Day 20 - "Then I am a freak, the girls are right!"

When I first reviewed Audrey Rose (1977) for a SHOCKtober past--2009, to be precise--I found it fine but disappointing because I'd been told it was terrifying, not only by someone I knew but also by the VHS box for it. Since it appeared as one of a lone reader's favorite horror movies on the 2020 list, I thought this year would be a good time to revisit it to see if I would enjoy it more than I did way back when.

Spoiler alert, no I did not! In fact, I think I enjoyed it less!

It's got a fine birth year in 1977. It's got a fine cast in Anthony Hopkins, Marsha Mason, John Beck of television's Dallas. It's got a fine director in Robert Wise. He directed The Haunting for chrissakes! 

What I remembered from last time, mostly, is that there is so much screaming and crying, and Anthony Hopkins says "Audrey Rose!" a lot. What I didn't remember is that Marsha Mason really doesn't have much to do beyond this:

Even she has admitted she disliked the role: "All I did was cry!"

I'd also forgotten just how little horror there is in all the drama. I'm good with that kind of thing usually, but once this really gets to the courtroom plotline, it is just glacial and dull and I start dreaming about the fantastic horror movie it could have been. That's pointless, I know, and unfair to the film Audrey Rose actually is. I don't care! I also know I'm giving a shitty "review" this time, and I don't care about that either! (That 2009 review is a bit more in-depth, if you are interested.) This movie made me cranky. Is that the movie's fault? I'm not sure!

But I do know that I'm counting my blessings that Chris MacNeil was a single mother, because she could and did do whatever it took to get help for her daughter and wasn't clamjammed by her stubborn husband.  

Well, I have given this film two tries and I think that's enough to say "I am happy for that reader who calls it a favorite, but it is definitely not for me." If you catch me trying it again during SHOCKtober in 2037, please knock the videotape out of my hand!

A Bava by any other name

Anybody who's into Italian horror movies at all knows that figuring out how "franchises" work can be, to put it mildly, an experience on par with falling into a room full of razor wire. Every movie has 85 different titles in Italy alone, many of which insert them into any old series for whatever reason. Of course, the Zombie films are notorious for this, so much so that two people discussing the same movie will come off looking like they're in an Abbott and Costello skit as directed by Erwin Schrödinger.

"Do you like Zombie?"

"You mean Zombi 2?"

"I mean Zombie, like Zombie 1, I guess."

"Zombie 1 is Zombi 2."

That's only scratching the surface of the fuckery behind that film alone. I mean, let's not forget Zombi/e 3, a title that has been given to Let Sleeping Corpses Lie, Nightmare City, Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror, and Zombie Flesh Eaters 2. Then we have The Church, which is also sometimes called Demons 3...but then there's also Demons 3, which is also called Black Demons, and there's Demons III: The Ogre, which has nothing to do with the Demons series. You need a fucking Rosetta Stone and a PhD in quantum physics to sort this shit out!

My point is, Beyond the Door II isn't a sequel to Beyond the Door whatsoever. They merely share an actor, who isn't even playing the same character in both films. Yes, that is akin to calling Little Women "Midsommar II" because Florence Pugh appears in each. Then you go see Little Women and you're like "Okay, this is a sequel, so when do the little women jump off of cliffs and/or set their boyfriends on fire...?" 

(To be fair, maybe they do that in Greta Gerwig's Little Women, I don't know, I've never seen it.)

So! Since Mario Bava's Beyond the Door II (1977) is not actually, you know, Beyond the Door II, I'll be using its Italian title, Shock. I'm sure you already know it by that title, since 1) I think it's the preferred title nowadays, even in these here United States, and 2) only the hippest, most in-the-know people read this blog. 

And because you are therefore hip and in-the-know, I bet you're also well aware that

SHOCK RULES!

Seven years after her drug-addict husband's suicide and her subsequent nervous breakdown, Dora (Daria Nicolodi) moves back to the home they shared with her son Marco (David Colin Jr, your link to Beyond the Door!) and new husband Bruno (John Steiner). It's not long before everyone starts acting a bit weird: Dora gets increasingly paranoid, Marco gets increasingly hostile towards his mother, and Bruno hides the key to the locked basement. Is Dora headed for another breakdown? What's going on in this house? And as Aretha Franklin might ask, who, exactly, is zoomin' who?

Early on in the proceedings, as the family settles into their new-old digs, the score by I Libra (featuring ex-Goblin member Maurizio Guarini) does much of the heavy lifting in establishing some kind of mood or atmosphere, letting us know that, say, a Slinky coming down the stairs or a shot of a bookcase should be considered scary. As you begin to wonder what this movie is getting at, however, the happenings get trippier and trippier, the requisite chunky and painful-looking white contacts appear, and the blood starts flowing through a series of twists and turns that lead to a wholly satisfying payoff. A payoff that makes sense! In an Italian horror movie! Can you believe it?

this is some Amityville shit

Shock doesn't have the candy-colored aesthetics and obvious location trappings that those familiar with Bava's work might expect, which makes it all the more astonishing that the film's contemporary 70s Italian country home comes to feel ten kinds of spooky and gothic all the same. Why...maybe bookcases and Slinkies are scary!

There's no shortage of the in-camera tricks and effects that the director is famous for, though, particularly when the film takes on a kind of dream-logic state. This includes this famous shot, one of the absolute coolest, most iconic jump scares in horror (and which was aped to far, far lesser effect in...sigh...Annabelle):

More than anything else, Shock is an incredible vehicle for Daria Nicolodi, her personal favorite performance and one rivaled only, perhaps, by her turn in Deep Red. Her slow transformation from doting mother and wife to fraught Woman on the Edge plays to all of her strengths as an actress, particularly her expressiveness and physicality. Her vibe in this--with her long hair, wide eyes, and flowing dresses and nightgowns--adds to the unexpected gothic atmosphere and brings to mind Isabelle Adjani in Herzog's Nosferatu, which rose from the grave two years after Shock.

This is Bava's last film and something of a torch-passing to his son Lamberto, who is credited as assistant director but widely regarded as co-director, ostensibly making this his first film. I'm not sure how well Shock is regarded in pater Bava's filmography; it's certainly not cited as a great by horror fans as often as A Bay of Blood, Black Sabbath, or Black Sunday are. But who cares! This was my long LONG overdue first viewing and I frigging loved this. It's part haunted house movie, part possession movie, part mystery, part psychological thriller and ALL parts wicked cool as hell. Everyone who's hip and in-the-know knows!

SHOCKtober: 384-363

And the wind whispered...each movie listed here got ONE...VOTE...EACH...

384. The Conjuring 2 -- 2016, James Wan
383. The Convent -- 2000, Mike Mendez
382. The Dead Zone -- 1983, David Cronenberg
381. The Devil Rides Out -- 1968, Terence Fisher
380. The Devil's Backbone -- 2001, Guillermo del Toro
379. The Devil's Candy -- 2015, Sean Byrne
378. The Dorm That Dripped Blood -- 1982, Stephen Carpenter & Jeffrey Obrow
377. The Dunwich Horror -- 1970, Daniel Haller
376. The Faculty -- 1998, Robert Rodriguez
375. The Fly -- 1958, Kurt Neumann
374. The Frighteners -- 1996, Peter Jackson
373. The Gate -- 1987, Tibor Takács
372. The Gates of Hell -- 2008, Kelly Dolen
371. The Gorgon -- 1964, Terence Fisher
370. The Hand -- 1981, Oliver Stone
369. The Haunted Palace -- 1963, Roger Corman
368. The Haunting -- 1999, Jan de Bont
367. The Hills Have Eyes -- 1977, Wes Craven
366. The Hole -- 2009, Joe Dante
365. The Host -- 2006, Joon-ho Bong
364. The House on Haunted Hill -- 1999, William Malone
363. Howling V: The Rebirth -- 1989, Neal Sundstrom

The Convent forever! I will always love that movie. I can't believe it was released in 2000, though, what the heck. Lots of these release dates...1999? 1998? Goodness me, how old am I? Time keeps on somethin' somethin' somethin'...into the fyoo-tchaaaaa.

Look, I know this is a list of favorites and I do not judge them! We all love things and that's just great. But I would be lying, dear reader, if I did not say that it physically pained me to put #368 on this list. My feud with that film will never end! I will take it to the grave and beyond!

SHOCKtober: 427-406

Hey, if you assumed that each film listed today received ONE VOTE, then you didn't make an ass out of u or me! Because they did receive one vote each. Good job.

427. Saturn 3 -- 1980, Stanley Donen & John Barry
426. Scanners -- 1981, David Cronenberg
425. Seance on a Wet Afternoon -- 1964, Bryan Forbes
424. Shallow Grave -- 1987, Richard Styles
423. Shock -- 1977, Mario Bava
422. Signs -- 2002, M. Night Shyamalan
421. Silver Bullet -- 1985, Daniel Attias
420. Sinister -- 2012, Scott Derrickson
419. Sisters -- 1972, Brian De Palma
418. Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers -- 1988, Michael A.Simpson
417. Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland -- 1989, Michael A. Simpson
416. Sleepy Hollow -- 1999, Tim Burton
415. Slut -- 2014, Chloe Okuno
414. Sorority Row -- 2009, Stewart Hendler
413. Southbound -- 2015, Roxanne Benjamin, David Bruckner, Patrick Horvath, Radio Silence
412. Splatter University -- 1984, Richard W. Haines
411. Spookies -- 1986, Genie Joseph, Thomas Doran, Brendan Faulkner
410. Spring -- 2014, Justin Benson & Aaron Moorhead
409. StageFright -- 1987, Michele Soavi
408. Stake Land -- 2010, Jim Mickle
407. Starry Eyes -- 2014, Kevin Kolsch & Dennis Widmyer
406. Stephen King's Riding the Bullet -- 2004, Mick Garris

Stephen King's Riding the Bullet, eh? Well good for him, I say!

Listen, I don't want to victim blame but you really can't attend Splatter University and not expect a mess everywhere at best, to be murdered at worst.

If you haven't seen Starry Eyes yet...you really should see Starry Eyes.

And remember, kids, Angela is always watching!

SHOCKtober: 448-428

Say it with me now...each of these films received ONE VOTE each!

448. Plan 9 from Outer Space -- 1959, Ed Wood
447. Poltergeist III -- 1988, Gary Sherman
446. Pontypool -- 2008, Bruce McDonald
445. Prometheus -- 2012, Ridley Scott
444. Psycho II -- 1983, Richard Franklin
443. Psycho Cop Returns -- 1993, Adam Rifkin
442. Puppet Master -- 1989, David Schmoeller
441. Quatermass and the Pit -- 1967, Roy Ward Baker
440. R-Point -- 2004, Su-chang Kong
439. Rabies -- 2010, Aharon Keshales & Navot Papushado
438. The Rape of the Vampire -- 1968, Jean Rollin
437. Razorback -- 1984, Russell Mulcahy
436. Rear Window -- 1954, Alfred Hitchcock
435. The Reflecting Skin -- 1990, Philip Ridley
434. Resolution -- 2012, Justin Benson & Aaron Moorhead
433. Return of the Living Dead III -- 1993, Brian Yuzna
432. Rituals -- 1977, Peter Carter
431. Rock 'n' Roll Nightmare -- 1987, John Fasano
430. The Rocky Horror Picture Show -- 1975, Jim Sharman
429. Rose Red -- 2001, Craig R. Baxley
428. Satan's Cheerleaders -- 1977. Greydon Clark

Fun fact about Rituals...in my review, I posted a screenshot of Hal Holbrook sitting in the middle of the road, staring into the sunrise and made a joke about it being the cover of his 1978 lite-rock album "On the Road to Soft Gold." Well! Someone took that as a tidbit of truth and added it to the trivia section on the film's IMDb page. (It has since been scrubbed.) Well well! Apparently someone reading that trivia page also took it as a tidbit of truth and mentioned it in the commentary track of the movie's DVD release.

Look, obviously we all want to live in a world where Hal Holbrook releases soft rock albums, but we are not there yet. Man, the whole debacle is my one claim to fame and I didn't even get credit for it!

Also: fuck yeah Psycho II!

It's SHOCKtoberin' time!

Can you feel it, pals? It is upon us at last! SHOCKtober is here! I hope you have stocked up on (fake) eyeballs and candy corns because we have a shitton of movies to count down this month! Why you would need a bunch of (fake) eyeballs and candy corns to read a list on a website I do not know. But that's your problem not mine!

Me when I woke up and realized it's October

Now look, before we get into the nitty and/or the gritty, lemme get a few things out of the way:

• Again, THANK YOU to everyone who sent in a list! Without you...well, I would have had to come up with another idea for the month and that would have been a drag. Also it would have made me feel bad, so hooray.
• The list is much bigger than I was anticipating! 630 movies, y'all, way to go!
• That said, between the hundreds of votes, SHOCKtober 2017's list of 630 movies and SHOCKtober 2010's list of 732 movies, NOT ONE OF YOU voted for Amityville 4: The Evil Escapes. Exactly what does a possessed floor lamp have to do to get some respect around here?? I tell ya, when I realized it was going to be neglected again, I felt like canceling SHOCKtober, throwing my computer out the window, taking to my fainting couch for a while (aka my regular couch), finding the nearest cliff, throwing myself off said cliff, and exploding when I hit the ground. You know what else was thrown off a cliff and exploded at the bottom? THE POSSESSED FLOOR LAMP. But I guess none of you care about that. Harrumph! HARRUMPH I SAY.
• Well, I'm going to try (or at least try to try) to soldier on regardless. It's true what they say on The Internet: no list is perfect.
• Actually, it's more like they say "This list sucks you suck why do they even let you write here you don't even know anything about horror movies you're stupid"
• Actually, it would be "your stupid"
• Oh! Listen, for real, thank you for all the variations on "hooray" you included in your submissions, like "hooray Final Girl is back" and the such. Truly, made my day every time.

List...rules, I guess:

• There's a super slim (I hope) chance that films may be listed twice, like if a movie has a weird alternate title and I didn't catch it before posting. We should be good! I am just saying.
• Everything is ranked according to the number of votes received, but when multiple movies earned equal votes, the ranking is just mostly alphabetical. So if they each got one vote, there's really no difference between Movie #630 and Movie #200. I'm sure you could have figured that out. I am just saying.
• I'll be linking to any reviews I've done. I'll be posting every day throughout the month–sometimes even more than once!–so keep your eyeballs (fake and real) at the ready! 

So! Without further ado or aduh, let's get down to it!

Each of these films received ONE VOTE. That's right–only one person in the whole world likes these movies!

630. 1408 -- 2007, Mikael Håfström
629. 10 Cloverfield Lane -- 2016, Dan Trachtenberg
628. 3 Women -- 1977, Robert Altman
627. 30 Days of Night -- 2007, David Slade
626. Five Million Years to Earth -- 1967, Roy Ward Baker
625. A Night to Dismember -- 1983, Doris Wishman
624. A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge -- 1985, Jack Sholder
623. A Page of Madness -- 1926, Teinosuke Kinugasa
622. A Serbian Film -- 2010, Srdjan Spasojevic
621. Absentia -- 2011, Mike Flanagan
620. Alien 3 -- 1992, David Fincher
619. Alien Covenant -- 2017, Ridley Scott
618. All the Boys Love Mandy Lane -- 2006, Jonathan Levine
617. Amer -- 2009, Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani

I didn't much care for the original Cloverfield and as such I was not enthusiastic about 10 Cloverfield Lane. Not even with its John Goodman-osity and its Mary Elizabeth Winstead-ness! But when I finally made a little time for it...hat-cha, it's some damn fine entertainment. I loved it.

3 Women! If you haven't seen 3 Women yet, what are you waiting for? Go watch it, it's fucking sublime. Sissy Spacek and Shelley Duvall should have appeared in more movies together. Many more. Many, many more. Every movie ever, actually.

If you have seen 3 Women then here, watch Doris effing Wishman and Roger effing Ebert on Conan O'Brien in 2002 and lament the fact that we used to be a society where people like Doris WIshman and Roger Ebert were on talk shows.

Now listen up!

Please, if I may speak for every single horror fan in the world, let me say this: horror fans never shy away from a bad movie. Sure, some of them are rage-inducing (for some examples, I suggest perusing the succinctly titled "go fuck yourself" tag). But there is something about a delightfully bad movie, movies made completely in earnest that just don't work that is so endearing and entertaining–your Shark Attack 3: Megalodons, your Nail Gun Massacres–that are a cause for celebration amongst horror fans. We embrace them but hard and spread 'em around like the very best herpes.

What I find fascinating, though, is when the non-horror fans–you know, the squares–weigh in. Nothing, then, is off-limits from their critical eyes! Classics aren't safe! No movie is unassailable! Our top tens and unholy grails are laughed at, put down, and scooped out right out from under us like yesterday's cat litter. While horror fans are not a monolith by any means, there's still a canon, right? Stuff like...oh, I don't know...Suspiria. A total masterpiece! Yeah yeah, the plot is thin and some acting is dodgy but who cares? Suspiria rules!

Then an outlander comes along and goes, "Nah, it's bad."

"But but...look at it!" you cry sneer. "It's...just...look at it! And that score!"

"Yeah, I get that. But still, it's a bad movie," they respond. And then you start to question everything! Is it bad? Can it be legitimately brilliant and legitimately not so simultaneously?

Okay, so instead of all of this playing out hypothetically, you can listen to it all play out for real! That's right, I was a guest last night on The Download, a show out of Chicago's WGN Radio, and we talked about bad movies, good-bad movies, the best bad movies, and lots more in between. Get it in your earholes by CLICKING RIGHT HERE.

Listen! As I lose my mind when someone suggests that Candyman is bad. Thrill! As I try to spread the gospel of Its Holiness Cathy's Curse.

Geez Louise, I love Cathy's Curse. So much so that...well, check this out:

Toot toot, there is the sound of my own horn. That's right, I honk it proudly and loudly because being quoted on the new Cathy's Curse Blu-ray and DVD is like a dream come true....and in this workaday world, we need all the joy we can get before the sun expands and consumes us. (YES there is a restored 2k Blu-ray of Cathy's Curse, can you believe it? What a time to be alive!)

Here is the thing about being on that radio show, though: they referred to this here Final Girl as being, well, dead. I formerly had this blog and all. I suppose that's sort of true, as I did officially put it on hiatus some time back, but...man, you guys, it really, really bummed me out hearing that. It actually gave me the sads to think about this site in the past tense (I mean, I have posted a couple of times since the hiatus), to act like it's dead or talk about it like it's not standing right there, hello, listening to us. So I don't know. I think I should do something about that. My horror feelings took a nosedive for a while there, a long while, but the flames have been fanned over the last couple of months and maybe it's time to get the band back together?

But anyway. Suspiria. Bad? But...just...just look at it!

screencaps courtesy Screenmusings

VHS Week Day 14: MARTIN (1977)

George A. Romero: he's more than just zombies. I know that you know that, you're savvy and learned. I'm simply pointing it out to the total horror noobs who only know Romero from his three (AND ONLY THREE) (okay, maybe Land of the Dead is kind of fun to watch once, but THAT'S IT) great zombie films: Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, and Brunch Day of the Dead. Though the films are often overlooked, Romero has explored horror in ways far removed from those undead shuffling people-eaters. One such film is 1977's Martin.

Set amidst the depressed, crumbling landscape of fading steel town Braddock, PA, Martin tells the tale of...well, of Martin (John Amplas), who believes himself to be a vampire. His elderly cousin Cuda also believes that Martin is a vampire. It's been a family curse for generations, and while Cuda allows Martin to live with him, he also makes the young man a promise: "First I will save your soul...then I will destroy you." But is Martin actually a vampire? Or is he simply a kookadook?

Romero isn't interested in definitive answers as much as he is in deconstructing the vampire genre and deromanticizing the myths. Regardless of Martin's true nature, he's no gothic-flavored bloodsucker from a Hammer production; nor is he a terrifying, otherworldly creature à la Salem's Lot's Mr. Barlow. Garlic, crosses, and sunlight give Martin no pause. He's incapable of mesmerizing victims into submission, so he relies on drug injections to do it for him. He has no fangs, so he wields a razor blade. Martin's reality is completely unlike the bodice-rippers and monsters we're accustomed to calling "vampire."

Martin is rife with the same types of simple metaphors and symbolism that Romero incorporates into many of his films. It's an examination of sexual repression and insecurity as well as a swipe at religion, particularly the ways in which staunch religious beliefs can twist a person or a family. The "family curse"–what Cuda claims is the curse of Nosferatu–can be seen as any kind of "otherness" or perhaps it's merely hereditary mental illness.

Aside from all of this, Martin works fairly well as a straight-up horror movie. Because the attacks rarely go as smoothly as Martin plans, they're prolonged and all the more shocking as his victims fight back. While it's easy to feel sympathy for poor, confused Martin, there's no doubt that he is a monster. Whether he's of the mythical or the mundane variety, though, that's for you to decide.

VHS Week Day 11: THE HAUNTING OF JULIA (1977)

It is quite fitting that The Haunting of Julia is better known as Full Circle because friends, my brain with regards to Final Girl is coming full circle. Or, okay, not quite full circle. More like my brain and this blog are forming something that is sort of like a möbius strip slowly sinking into quicksand. Time is folding in on itself and tearing apart. This has all happened before and it will all happen again. Up is down, dogs and cats are getting married, and, as usual, I can't find my pants.

Look, what I'm trying to say is that I've already reviewed this movie here! It was even a gotdanged Film Club choice! I knew I'd seen it–several times, in fact. I'm not that crazy. But as I never added The Haunting of Julia to the looonnng list of review links when we talked about it 3+ years ago, I plumb forgot I wrote about it. I watched it again for VHS Week, wrote down a bunch of notes...and then found the old review, which touches on basically everything I wrote down in my notes. I've talked about a lot of movies here and this blog is over ten years old and I am over 81 years old so give me a break.

So you know what? I'm not gonna try to come up with new ways to say the same things, nor am I going to make you click something and go to another page. That's right–I'm cuttin' and pastin' and no one can stop me. The old review is in between the pics.

You know what I love about Mia Farrow? It's the way she appears so vulnerable and fragile–what with her slight frame and her look of bewilderment and her delicate features–but she's got such a goddamn spine to her. I find myself wanting to protect her (or, I suppose I should say, characters she portrays, like Rosemary Woodhouse and Julia Lofting), but when push comes to shove she proves she won't be pushed or shoved.

And so after the tragic death of her young daughter and a breakdown, Julia ups and abandons her husband Magnus (Keir Dullea) on the spur of the moment as she leaves the hospital. Before long, Julia is...wait for it...haunted. But by what? The spirit of her daughter? Her own guilt? The spirit of the house's former resident? Unlike nearly every other supernatural flick on the market, The Haunting of Julia keeps all the goings-on vague and subtle, so much so that we're hard-pressed to discern whether or not there's any haunting going on at all. There aren't any Poltergeist-style furniture-flying-around-on-its-own theatrics to be found; sure, there's some bloodshed and casualties, but it's more about atmosphere or, as Julia puts it, the "feeling of hate" that engulfs her home.

Still, what's a good ghost story without some sort of mystery to be solved (not to mention that since it's a 70s film, there's a good old fashioned séance to boot)? And boy, Julia uncovers a good one–a downright chilling one, with a ghost that could give The Ring's Samara a lesson or two in evil. A note to wayward ghosts everywhere: I'm not fucking helping you, you're on your own.

The Haunting of Julia is a quiet film that will get under your skin more that it will outright scare you, and if quiet-n-subdued ain't your bag, it will undoubtedly get on your nerves more than it will get under your skin. But if you're in the mood for some precious blonde daughter dies early on and does she come back as a ghost or is her mother just mad with guilt? horror (that's totally a subgenre, you know), pair this up with Don't Look Now and go nuts!

As I said, there are no spook house histrionics to be found. There is grief so intense that it presses down upon you. There is a subtle unease throughout and by the time we get to the ending–and what an ending it is–the cumulative effect of this sad, chilling tale is incredibly powerful. But there are no easy answers, which may prove frustrating if you don't fall under Julia's spell.

There are plenty of similar films from the era that fans love to talk about: Don't Look Now, The Changeling, Burnt Offerings...films that have shocking, memorable moments worth recounting. The Haunting of Julia isn't "iconic" in that way (no red balls bouncing down the stairs, no homicidal dwarves), but it's absolutely worth adding to the pantheon. It's got a devoted following even as it's been completely neglected since the days of VHS. What I wouldn't give for a restored version, one that wasn't overly dark at times, one that doesn't snap and crackle, one that doesn't sound like there's a generator running just offscreen the entire time. Should it ever finally get the home release love it deserves, I'm sure I'll review it again, having forgotten all about the time I spent writing this post. No offense or anything, you're great. It's not you, it's me.

Wait, what was I talking about?

VHS Week Day 7: RABID (1977)

After a horrific motorcycle accident, Rose (Marilyn Chambers) is brought to a nearby plastic surgery clinic to treat her life-threatening wounds. As Rose is unconscious, doctors say "Eh, why the hell not?" and perform an experimental skin graft, treating her excised thigh tissue before transplanting it inside her abdomen. There's a chance for cancerous tumors to develop, but when the patient finally wakes a month later, the result is much worse: instead of sprouting tumors or rejecting the graft, Rose now has a sphincter (or a vagina, depending on the results of your Rorschach test) under her arm, from which a needle-tipped phallus occasionally protrudes. Human food no longer cuts it for Rose, so she goes around hugging people and poking them with her armpit-sphincter/vagina-needlepenis, which allows her to drink their blood for sweet sweet nourishment. If the victims don't die, they quickly become frothy and leaky and bitey and murder-y–"rabid," if you will. Before long, Montreal is collapsing in violent (and gross) chaos, while Rose, largely unaware of her condition even when she gets her hug o' death on, attempts to reunite with her boyfriend.

"I thought you said the results were worse than cancerous tumors," you say. "An armpit-sphincter/vagina-needlepenis sounds awesome and quite useful."

Touché!

I mean, I'm not really sure what else to call what's going on here besides armpit-sphincter/vagina-needlepenis

The good times can't last forever, though, and Rabid ultimately has one of the more depressing, nihilist, empty endings I've seen in a horror film. Gotta love that David Cronenberg and his love of humanity!

While Rabid may not rank with Cronenberg's best–it's a bit bloated in the midsection and hews a bit too closely to its predecessor Shivers–it's still got that delight(fully disgusting) sleazy/cerebral combination that only he can deliver.

While she wasn't the director's first choice for Rose (Cronenberg wanted Sissy Spacek but producers balked at her accent, of all things), the stunt casting of porn star Marilyn Chambers in her first leading mainstream role turned out to be a genius move if you want to give Rabid a feminist read: Rose dispatches plenty of men–who assume they have a right to her body–with something akin to passionless sex.

Spacek makes an appearance in the film regardless

Of course, you don't have to get all hoity-toity with it. Rabid is quite satisfactory as a straight-up virus/body horror film, no metaphors or analysis required! After all, if there's one thing I learned in Psych 101, it's that sometimes an armpit-sphincter/vagina-needlepenis is just an armpit-sphincter/vagina-needlepenis.

SHOCKtober: 309-291

Day Two brings us some good, good stuff so I'll shut my yap and get to it. Each of these movies received one vote.

309. Confessions -- 2010, Tetsuya Nakashima
308. The Crazies -- 2010, Breck Eisner
307. The Eye -- 2002, Oxide Pang Chun & Danny Pang
306. Invaders from Mars -- 1953, William Cameron Menzies
305. Scanners -- 1981, David Cronenberg
304. Double Indemnity -- 1944, Billy Wilder
303. Lady in White -- 1988, Frank LaLoggia
302. Terror Train -- 1980, Roger Spottiswoode
301. La residencia (The House That Screamed) -- 1969, Narciso Ibanez Serrador
300. Psycho II -- 1983, Richard Franklin
299. Trick 'r Treat -- 2007, Michael Dougherty
298. The Tunnel -- 2011, Carlo Ledesma
297. Eraserhead -- 1977, David Lynch
296. Mute Witness -- 1994, Anthony Waller
295. Prom Night -- 1980, Paul Lynch
294. Michael Jackson's "Thriller" -- 1983, John Landis
293. The Hypothesis of the Stolen Painting -- 1979, Raoul Ruiz
292. Demons -- 1985, Lamberto Bava
291. Cape Fear -- 1962, J. Lee Thompson

In case you're thinking to yourself "Thriller whaaaaaat!", let me just say "Thriller yesssssss!" because as far as I'm concerned, that video is a short film. It is also awesome. AND it provides the basis for one of my famous "I am old" stories, that goes as follows:

When Thriller hit, it was such a big deal, you guys. As it was the days before everyone had instant access to every piece of entertainment in the history of ever, MTV would actually schedule showings of it throughout the day. We neighborhood kids would stop whatever we were doing, run indoors, watch Thriller, and then go back outside to play 20 minutes later. Life was filled with zombified dance numbers, and it was good.

fuck you, Thriller is the best

Anyway, what else? I really, really need to see The House That Screamed. I was first made aware of it when it ended up at #229 during SHOCKtober 2010, but I've yet to track down a copy.

I love Demons! I love it so much, it's so stupid and gross. I wish I loved Trick 'r Treat more than I did...maybe it deserves another viewing? And I'll tell you right now: for someone not usually considered a "horror" director, David Lynch figures into SHOCKtober 2013 (and 2010!) pretty damn prominently.

Don't Take Your Booze-Addled Tantrums to Town

While I admit that I am no Murder, She Wrote, I like to think that my deducing skills are somewhat substantial. The swirly thing on the stovetop turns orange, I deduce that it's hot. I eat a berry and begin to die, my penultimate thought is "That girl is poison!" (my last thought would be "Am I really to shuffle off this mortal coil with a Bell Biv Davoe song stuck in my head?") because deduction. And so, I see this poster for Ruby (1977) and I immediately set about to deducerizin'.

The title: clearly a Carrie rip-off a la Jennifer.
The Piper Laurie: clearly a Carrie rip-off a la the episode of Matlock that Piper Laurie was in LOL just kidding but can you imagine an episode of Matlock that rips off Carrie, come on that would be one of the reasons life is worth living.

Okay, so I somehow deduced from the totally not obvious clues that Ruby is going to somehow rip-off Carrie. But! don't go thinking that the girl who takes up 2/3 of the page is Ruby, oh no. Read the fine print and school yoself- Piper Laurie is Ruby. And I dunno, there's definitely a Rosemary's Baby kind of thing alluded to, like maybe Ruby is all evil and has sexytimes with Satan or something and then this girl is born and sixteen years later the girl goes all telekinetic and there's, you know, death and whatever.

Anyway, that's all what I deduced from the poster. Not gonna lie, I was totally excited to watch this...not only because of the perfectly perfect movie I was imagining in my head, but because of such Amazon user endorsements as

Knowone remebers the good movies! but, I still remember " Ruby " That's a great movie.

and

REAL GOOD, DIDN'T EXPECTED!!!

Ruby and I, we were gonna be friends, see. Friends. I could picture it clearly: Ruby and I running hand-in-hand through fields of gold, laughing and singing the theme from Family Ties together. I imagined in every future conversation I'd ever have I would blurt out "Holy fucking shit, have you ever seen Ruby?" because it would need to be seen. I'd become a Jehorror Witness, clutching a DVD whilst knocking on every door in every neighborhood to ask "Have you heard the good word about Ruby?" I felt as if my life were truly about to begin.

Man, I gotta stop doing that!

Although I suppose I can't really blame Ruby for being not at all what I was expecting. Ruby is what Ruby is, after all. But! What Ruby is is pretty terrible, and that's not my fault.

Ruby and Nicky (Sal Vecchio) are out for a moonlight-n-champagne tour of a swamp when Nicky is ruthlessly gunned down by a vicious mob of mobsters. Ruby, all stressed out, immediately goes into labor- christened in blood, indeed.

Before you can say "Wait she was pregnant what is up with drinking that champagne, was it actually sparkling cider or something", it's 16 years later and my, how things have changed! Ruby owns a drive-in, appropriately called Ruby's Drive-In. The mobsters now work for Ruby, selling tickets and crappy concession stand burgers or running the film projector. Leslie the Swamp Baby (OMG WHAT IF THAT WAS A MOVIE) has grown into a mute weirdo who sometimes bites people. Ruby loathes Leslie because she'd rather have Nicky back in her life than be all alone, saddled with their offspring whose Bud Cort-ish face always looking looking LOOKING.

I mean, it's Harold in drag, amirite

Before you can say "Wait how can Ruby's Drive-In be showing Attack of the 50ft Woman when it's supposed to be 1951 and everyone knows that movie came out in 1958, duh", the mobsters start dying courtesy of some invisible force. As the bodies pile up, ex-mobster and erstwhile Ruby-lover Vince (the ever-stalwart Stuart Whitman) grows concerned. However, all of his "Hey Ruby, everyone is dying in strange, awful ways...maybe we should do something about it?"s are met with a "Aw, shaddap!" for you see, Ruby is still a real moll, the type of woman who wears feather boas in the home–in the home–and maintains a constant, fine patina of booze buzz.

Vince takes matters into his own hands and calls in a psychic expert who determines that yes, something is indeed afoot. But what?

What indeed. Leslie is possessed by Nicky, who apparently has been offing his murderers for revengeance. At this point, Ruby turns into a quasi-possession flick which, if you know anything about me you know normally I am seriously into...but Ruby is too little too late and more than a bit too wait why is this happening. Why did Nicky wait 16 years for revenge? Why would he possess Leslie when he was perfectly capable of getting shit done as the aforementioned invisible force? Questions remain unanswered as the film culminates in a freeze-frame ending (always a treat- ALWAYS A TREAT I SAY) apparently disavowed by director Curtis Harrington. Sure, it's a slapdash and nonsensical, added solely for the shock value, but it has a bit of a nice EC Comics-vibe that marginally redeems it.

total moll

While Piper Laurie is terrific, I can't help feeling a bit bad for poor Ruby, neither classic nor cult classic, destined to be remembered by only a few- Knowone remebers the good movies!- and forever relegated to the Z List. It's too bad, because the film feels as if it was dealt a real disservice by it being shoved into a Designer Imposter Carrie/Exorcist box; had it been treated as a proper ghost story, it coulda been a contenda. As it is, it looks like I continue to run through the fields of gold alone.

SHOCKtober Day 3: The Haunting of Julia

You know what I love about Mia Farrow? It's the way she appears so vulnerable and fragile- what with her slight frame and her look of bewilderment and her delicate features- but she's got such a goddamn spine to her. I find myself wanting to protect her (or, I suppose I should say, characters like Rosemary Woodhouse and Julia Lofting), but when push comes to shove she proves she won't be pushed or shoved.

And so after the tragic death of her young daughter and a breakdown, Julia ups and abandons her husband Magnus (Keir Dullea) on the spur of the moment as she leaves the hospital. Before long, Julia is...wait for it...haunted. But by what? The spirit of her daughter? Her own guilt? The spirit of the house's former resident? Unlike nearly every other supernatural flick on the market, The Haunting of Julia keeps all the goings-on vague and subtle...so much so that we're hard-pressed to discern whether or not there's any haunting going on at all. There aren't any Poltergeist-style furniture-flying-around-on-its-own theatrics to be found; sure, there's some blood shed and casualties, but it's more about atmosphere or, as Julia puts it, the "feeling of hate" that engulfs her home.

Still, what's a good ghost story without some sort of mystery to be solved (not to mention that since it's a 70s film, there's a good old fashioned séance to boot)? And boy, Julia uncovers a good one- a downright chilling one, with a ghost that could give The Ring's Samara a lesson or two in evil. A note to wayward ghosts everywhere: I'm not fucking helping you, you're on your own.

The Haunting of Julia is a quiet film that will get under your skin more that it will outright scare you, and if quiet-n-subdued ain't your bag, it will undoubtedly get on your nerves more than it will get under your skin. But if you're in the mood for some precious blonde daughter dies early on and does she come back as a ghost or is her mother just mad with guilt? horror (that's totally a subgenre, you know), pair this up with Don't Look Now and go nuts!

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SHOCKtoberiffic!
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Aim for the Head
Blog@Rotten Cotton
Life Between Frames
moneyandahalf
Mermaid Heather
Thrill Me!

Two sentences and a verdict.

I've seen several movies lately, but time and ennui have rendered me impotent with regards to writing big reviews. Therefore, I am writing these "two sentences and a verdict" blurbs...just to get them out of my system. Lame? Perhaps. If you don't like it, move to Russia!

Hee hee, "impotent".


In Memorium: In writer/director Amanda Gusack's 2005 feature, Dennis and Lilly move into a house and sets up surveillance cameras to document Dennis's battle with terminal cancer. Footage reveals that there are spirits-n-forces lurking around.

Two sentences: While critics have gone goo-goo over this film, calling it terrifying, brilliant, and everything they felt Paranormal Activity was not, I found it...okay. More plot, yes, but fewer scares.

Verdict: Not goo-goo.


In My Skin: In this 2002 film, a woman grows increasingly fascinated with her body after suffering a disfiguring accident (that's from the imdb page, yo).

Two sentences: French writer/director/actress Marina de Van proves she's got as much to say in as outré a fashion as her male counterparts in this startling examination of disconnection and disassociation. I love modern French horror cinema, and holy fucking shit, I love this movie.

Verdict: Yes yes yes, a thousand times yes, I can't wait to watch it again.

Shock Waves: After their boat sinks, survivors take refuge on an island that's soon beset by water-logged Nazi zombies.

Two sentences: This slow-burner of a movie combines many things I love: 1977, Peter Cushing, Brooke Adams, sogginess, and a Let's Scare Jessica to Death-ish narrated setup. I dug the moodiness, but it sure ain't gonna be everyone's cup of brine.

Verdict: Enjoyable enough, but would I watch it again? WOULD I? Probably not.

S&Man: From the Netflix description: Exploring the parallels between filmmaking and voyeurism, director J.T. Petty aims his camera at the world of underground horror films, interviewing scream queens and scholars and finding one auteur whose snuff series seems all too convincing.

Two sentences (and some spoilers): Going off of that description, I thought this 2006 film was solely a documentary, and I was diggin' it big time...and actually questioning if the one "auteur" was, in fact, making snuff films. It is not solely a documentary- fact and fiction are mixed, and I done been duped.

Verdict: I really liked it, but I may have felt differently throughout had I known of the ruse. Oh, and FYI: it's pronounced "Sandman", not "S & M Man" or "Samperasandman".