Logs, pies, etc

Hello! I thought I would send up a flare about a new podcast endeavor I've got going on with Mike Muncer of The Evolution of Horror:

It's a weekly show that'll have us running through the entirety of Twin Peaks, episode by episode (and, you know, a movie when appropriate). The introductory episode is available now, wherever the finest podcasts are...available. Or you can listen right on the Evolution of Horror website. 

Mike is a bonafide Twin Peaks lover and I am a bonafide Twin Peaks total newbie, so I'm excited to see where this journey takes us. I've been a frequent guest on EoH, both the main series and through the Patreon, and it's always a grand ol' time podcasting with Mike. So whether you are a Peaks fan or, like me, you've never seen it, I hope you'll dig the show. Grab your logs, subscribe, and join us as we...I don't know, walk across the weird zigzag floor? 

See, I don't know this show. BUT I WILL. Huzzah!

Arise, fair Esther

2023 is winding down and I say good riddance! Sure sure, there were plenty of creamy middles and even some delicious highs. But we cannot ignore low lows from the past year either, including but not limited to The Exorcist: Believer existing, a Blu-ray release of Stay Alive still not existing, and Screaming Females existing and then not existing any longer, which means that the February show--where they were to play with Team fucking Dresch!!--I had tickets for was cancelled. With Persephone firmly tucked away in the underworld for the next li'l bit (stay strong, girl) and the sun setting at, like, 3:30 in the afternoon, the dark vibes seem perfectly fitting as 2023 withers to its end at last. 

But, soft! What choker through yonder window breaks? It is Esther's, and she is the goddamned sun! She has come to save us all with the news that Orphan 3 is in active development.

Perhaps you already know this, but regardless let me state it plain: I am such an Orphan fan. It is the goodest of good times. I never dared to wish for more, particularly as star Isabelle Fuhrman aged out of the role. But somehow, against all odds and the laws of nature alike, that not-wish was answered last year with Orphan: First Kill, yet another goodest of good times, which made me feel like a dope for thinking that Isabelle Fuhrman would ever age out of this role. Mind you, more than a decade had passed since the first film, and Fuhrman looks like a 23-year-old playing a 31-year-old playing a 9-year-old. Go figure! There are camera tricks and apple boxes galore, and we are never fooled for an instant into thinking anyone would assume she's a regular ol' child! The filmmakers also know this. None of us care. Orphan:First Kill is glorious. It's a film that probably shouldn't be at all but there it is and we as a species are better for it. 

"But no, that has to be the last? Unless...no. No, right?" Again, I daren't dream for more. But madlad William Brent Bell saw the love that lurks in my heart, and will deliver unto us more-phan. When will we see it? Who knows. It doesn't matter. Just knowing that Esther is out there in the ether is enough for me. I'm already writing letters to the Oscars, telling them to get ready to hand out all of their trophies to Orphan 3.  

Okay, in this one that choker is gonna be removed and her head will fall off at last, I just knows it!

Invitation to HELL YES

Approximately one minute into Invitation to Hell, I knew that the almighty Charles Nelson Reilly had beamed the movie down from Heaven above expressly for me.

Well, no matter. The fact remains that as Invitation to Hell lies on its little bed made of hay or whatever, I will forever dump frankincense and myrrh at its feet! This movie came out in 1984 and yet somehow I have only just seen it for the first time...? Yes, 1984 was almost 25 years (!!) before I was born, but still, we have coexisted for quite some time now. Where have I been? What have I been doing? What took me so long?

You know what, I am not going to get all wrapped up in regrets and wasted years. We are together now, this masterpiece and I, and nothing will ever keep us from one another. Nothing!

So what happened in the first minute of Invitation to Hell that had me RSVPeeing in my pants with a big fat resounding YES? Witness:

In keeping with Final Girl's longstanding tradition of using only 100% cutting edge technology to bring you images, I recorded that off of my TV with my phone.

I'm sure you watched that and said "I can't believe my eyes! Was that Susan Lucci of television's All My Children dressed like she's Thing 3 from some Dr. Seuss shit standing up in a weird way and killing a man with the power of her finger gun?" It was, dear reader. It was. Now you get what I have been saying!

perfection

 

feel the power

I know I had you at "Susan Lucci" but honey, the hits do not stop there! This is perhaps the one movie in the history of ever that truly has it all. Just a wee little bit of that all includes:

-- a family composed of Robert Urich ( of television's Spenser for Hire and television's Vega$...man, a show with a dollar sign in the title, those really were the days), Joanna Cassidy (she was in Blade Runner AND this AND she flew a hot air balloon over Mars in Ghosts of Mars, sorry but that is a career any of us should be willing to die for), Soleil Moon Frye of television's Punky Brewster, and Barret "Bastian from The Neverending Story" Oliver 

-- another family partially composed of that guy from Murphy Brown and The Bad Seed herself, Patty McCormack

-- cinematography by Dean Cundey and directing by Wes Craven (???!!!)

-- Kevin McCarthy! I love him so much

-- a town with a secret that isn't really that much of a secret

-- an evil country club (redundant I know)

-- a company called Micro-DigiTech 

-- a fistfight rendered more exciting thanks to the time-honored inclusion of nearby stacks of empty cardboard boxes for people to crash into

-- lasers

-- Hell (not really a spoiler as it's right there in the title)

-- this shit is MADE FOR TV

Now you get what I have been saying even more!

After several years of hard times and struggle while working on "projects" with "computers," Matt Winslow (Urich) has been hired by a "company" to be in charge of "special projects." The entire Winslow clan is pretty pumped about their move to the 'burbs of a burgeoning Silicon Valley. 

The local country club, Steaming Springs, is like the coolest hot shit place in town to join, and it's headed up by Jennifer Jones (Lucci). Having seen the first minute of this film, we know that Jennifer Jones has some kind of inhuman abilities and an impeccable sense of style; therefore, we can safely assume that there is something both nefarious and glamorous afoot at Steaming Springs.

We sort of get a hint about it all when that guy from Murphy Brown and Patty McCormack and their kids take part in the Steaming Springs (side note: I don't like that word "steaming") initiation ceremony, which involves bathrobes, pledging that you will forsake all others for The Club, and Jennifer Jones rocking some hair that's so big it stretches the laws of physics to their breaking point.

Honestly I would join too, if only for that robe. Finally, some satanists (I think? it's never made completely clear and you know what, I don't care) who understand that evil and comfort need not be mutually exclusive.

Anyway, they enter the steamy sanctum (not a euphemism) and the next thing you know, that guy from Murphy Brown gets a sweet promotion and Patty McCormack has a sweet new car. Matt's wife Pat (Cassidy) (yes, they are Matt and Pat) (yes, this movie rules so hard) really wants in on all the sweet club stuff. Didn't the family suffer enough during those hard times and struggles? Wouldn't some new furniture be great? What, is Matt a coward? Is that why he doesn't want to join? He's a little coward baby?

No, Matt is not a little coward baby. He is just a man who is content with furnishings that are only okay, his family, and his job designing a spacesuit meant to withstand the heat of Venus. This spacesuit comes complete with a built-in flamethrower, a built-in laser gun, and, conveniently, an interface that can detect whether or not a life form is 1) human and 2) friendly. Jessica Jones passes in front of this interface and SURPRISE, the results are not at all surprising!

 

Despite all the pleading from his friends and family and coworkers to just submit and join the club, Matt remains resolutely against it, so Pat and the kids join without him. After the steaming, there are noticeable changes to them all. For starters, Pat's hair size increases exponentially, as does her horniness and her murder-y-ness.

Horny and Murder-y: The Pat Winslow Story

Soon enough, Pat and the kids decide they will no longer tolerate Matt's stubborn refusals to claim the power that the club provides, so they all try to kill him.  

Listen, I know how delightful that image is. But reader, what no mere image can convey is that whilst attacking her dad, Soleil Moon Frye yells things such as "We don't like nice!" in a demon voice. No, I don't mean that the demon voice is her regular voice pitch-altered or dubbed or anything; I mean it's a seven-year-old doing a demon voice and it is absolutely as incredible as you think it is. Even more so, I dare say.

Matt dons his experimental spacesuit, heads to Steaming Springs, and goes about saving his family.

While some little girls may dream about riding horses or whatever, when I was a little girl I dreamed about someday seeing Robert Urich wearing a spacesuit and shooting lasers at Susan Lucci...in Hell. I can't believe that at long, long last, this movie made my dream a reality!

That happens and then we get to the Negative Zone. And then there's an explosive ending, by which I mean Susan Lucci kind of explodes. I know that is a spoiler. It will not diminish your enjoyment of the moment in the slightest.

I told you! This movie has it ALL.

Look, when I watched this last night I did not do so with the intention of writing about it here ("Girl you never watch anything with the intention of writing about it here!" -- you, probably) (also...that's fair) or anywhere else...but it had me in its steamy grip (gross) from the jump and it didn't let go for even a second. It will never let go! So here I am, handing you an Invitation to Hell and asking you to be my Plus One. Join me and claim the power of this movie! What, are you a coward?

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

Friday the 13th Part THE GAME: Final Girl vs Jason

As we all know, there's street smarts (gained via various life experiences) and and there's book smarts (gained via being a nerd), and it's not often the twain get to meetin'. "Sure, sure, maybe you know how to start a fire with nothing but two sticks and some hope," a nerd might say. "But do you know anything about the Teapot Dome Scandal?"

"Who cares?" the streetwise sassafras may reply. "I know all of the spots in my neighborhood where I can mooch off of someone's unprotected wifi. That's way cooler than something something quadratic equations."

My point is, as I have journeyed through life, as I have evolved from a nubile ingenue wizened crone into a full-on swamp hag, I have come to realize that I am severely lacking in street smarts, and nowhere is this deficiency more evident than in the realm of horror. Yes yes, I can talk about Amityville 4: The Evil Escapes all damn day (and I will, just try me)...I can bore dazzle you with some sweet-ass subtext analyzin' or maybe yet another list of obscure titles. But what good will all this nerd knowledge do me when I come face to mask with a deranged, homicidal wackadoo with copious mommy issues? Absolutely none.

You would think I'd know how to behave in Horror Movie Situations. You would think I'd be the last one alive, the one who gets away...geez, it's right there in my blog name.

You would think all that. But thanks to Friday the 13th: The Game, I've learned some cold, hard truths about myself. The biggest, perhaps, is that I should probably change the name of this blog to THE ONE WHO HAS TROUBLE OPENING DOORS AND MAKES BAD DECISIONS AND IS PRETTY MUCH ALWAYS THE FIRST TO DIE. It's not as catchy as "FINAL GIRL", but it's much more honest.

*record scratch* YES THERE'S A FRIDAY THE 13th VIDEO GAME.

*record scratch* YES THAT'S THE ACTUAL POINT OF THIS POST.

Friday the 13th in an asymmetrical 3rd-person survival horror game for PS4, Xbox One, and PC that attempts–and often succeeds–at capturing the spirit of the wonderful, terrible, long-running film series. You can play as Jason Voorhees and stalk all the jerks your mommy has told you to kill, or you can play as one of the counselors, desperately trying to find some means of escape. The game maps and Jasons are pulled directly from the films (for example, Part 2's Baghead Jason might chase you through Higgins Haven, as seen in Parts 3 and 4), while the counselors are more simple homages to movie characters, such as the designer impostor version of Violet from A New Beginning.

Jason has a plethora of skills and tools at his disposal: he can teleport throughout the map, lay down bear traps, and sense where you are. Counselors have varying strength and stats–things like stamina and repair–and can find weapons and first aid sprays scattered throughout the numerous cabins. There are several ways to make it out alive: fix up a car and drive on home, fix up a boat and boat on home, fix the telephone and call the cops, or simply survive for the entire 20 minutes of a match. Chances are, though, Jason is gonna get you. This is Friday the 13th, man! That's what he does! The movies feature a "Final Girl", not a "Final Everybody", after all.

As I intimated earlier, I'm pretty bad at this game. I die. A lot. Should I play as Jason (the killer is randomly chosen as the match starts), I bumble around and the body count is low. Sometimes, salvation is within my grasp and it still slips away, like in this clip, where some dude can't wait one second for me to get in the boat and he drives away, leaving me to my (eventual) fate:



And despite all of my ineptitude and horrifying win/loss record, every single match is so much damn fun. I have screamed and been startled so many times that I'm sure several years have been taken off my life. I've been creeped out, I've cried from laughter...it's just a grand ol' violent time, particularly if you play with friends. I mean, there's more tension in this gif than there is some of the later entries in the film series:


Critical reviews for the game haven't been kind; in fact, they've been fairly excruciating. Many of the criticisms are fair: Friday the 13th was not developed by a AAA studio, and it shows. When you die, you become a spectator–leaving a match early means you gain no xp, and if you die early, well...you're gonna be spectating for a while, and that might bore you. There are glitches, bugs, and server issues that crop up somewhat frequently. These issues are being addressed, however, and a recent patch improved wait times dramatically. Essentially, the game is only going to get better, and bigger: there's a story mode planned for release later this year, and you can be sure the game will expand via DLC. There is a shit ton of potential for this game to grow and improve and enjoy a long lifespan.

While the critical reviews have been damning, player reviews have been stellar, generally boiling down to yeah, it's got some jankiness but I don't care, I'm having a blast. As a Friday the 13th fan, there is so much to love here: I can play as a designer impostor Chris Higgins or a Baghead Jason. I can find Jason's cabin and put on his mom's crusty old sweater. If you die or escape early, there's a chance you can return as Tommy Jarvis. Jason can punch my head clean off à la Part VIII, or he can finish me off with the famous sleeping bag death from Part VII. It's frequently scary, frequently hilarious, always bloody, and often captures the essence of what makes slasher films so enjoyable. Honestly, I'd only be happier if I could play as Ethel Hubbard or the Banana Girl Hitchhiker. I've got my fingers crossed they'll be available eventually.

Knock Jason's mask off and reveal the grossness underneath!

I'm absolutely addicted to this game, I'm telling you. If you want to see it in action, to see me make a complete fool of myself and get murdered in any number of disgusting ways, I'll be livestreaming with my video game super pal Travis this Sunday, the 11th, at 7pm EST on my new twitch channel. To be honest, it's kind of all I want to do with my life at this point...so hopefully I'll see you at Higgins Haven! (For the ten seconds before Jason rips my jaw off, yay!)

Too Many Pazuzuzzzz

I'm sure that you think I sit here atop Mount Horror Blog, all exhausted from having seen every horror-flavored movie and read every horror-flavored book. I get it! Horror blogging is elite business, for 100% experts only. You can't just start a blog because you want to, it takes years of training and education. But here's the truth, dear reader: there's some stuff I haven't seen. There's some stuff I haven't read! For example, can you believe that I, in all of my 83 years on this planet, am only just reading William Peter Blatty's The Exorcist for the very first time? Much like me and a glass of Riunite on ice, the book is a bona fide classic...and yet here we are. Ah well, better late than never, there's a first time for everything, you're only as young as you feel, etc etc.

(aside: now I have "beautiful Mount Horror Blog!" stuck in my head to this tune)

Now then, my telling you all this isn't solely to brag that I do, in fact, know how to read. Nor is it to dazzle you with erudite insights like "Hey, The Exorcist is pretty good," oh no no. I'm telling you all this because the book got my brain all a-buzzin' with The Exorcist (duh) which got me watchin' the movie which got me thinking "Hey, there are way too many Pazuzus in The Exorcist Extended Director's Cut Version You've Never Seen."

The wholly terrifying subliminal demon face is used quite sparingly–and to great effect–in the original cut of the film. It scared me so badly that I really couldn't handle it. I hated it! It was great. Then along came The Version You've Never Seen and the floodgates were opened. Excised footage was unexcised, Friedkin got all George Lucas about it and added a bunch of stuff, like that awful Regan computer face when she grab's the doctor's junk. You know what I mean. It's bad. Heck, I'd just forever opt for the original cut, but I admit: I am a sucker for the spider walk. It's over-the-top and silly but I love it. So sue me.

Perhaps the worst, though, is that the latest editions of the film include a baker's dozen or more new subliminal demon faces. Let's face it (omg "FACE" it lol lol) once this shot happened...

...it was obvious that this was no longer your mama's Pazuzu. It's everywhere! And so it's really no longer scary. Less is more, more is way less.

On my most recent watch, though, I realized just how many Pazuzus are lurking. It is some Where's Waldo shit for real. Look at these screencaps!

Some of those aren't even subliminal! Yes, William Friedkin is a great director and a master of the craft and all that, but to be honest I don't know what he was thinking with all of this.

VHS Week Day 2: THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932)

On a brutally stormy night, five rain-soaked travelers seek shelter in a gloomy Welsh manor that's home to the wildly eccentric Femm family. In short order we're introduced to brother Horace, who seems more afraid of dangers lurking within the house than those without; sister Rebecca, who warns against "fleshly love" and all manner of blasphemy; towering, mute, disfigured manservant Morgan; withered, bedridden patriarch Sir Roderick; and...whomever is locked away in a tiny room on the top floor.

Winds howl, floorboards creak, candlelight flickers, and shadows loom large as the night wears on. Horace grows increasingly fearful and paranoid as he refuses to wander upstairs. Tales of murder, suicide, and sinful siblings abound. Despite a warning that Morgan can't touch alcohol as he's a violent drunk, Morgan gets drunk. Then he unlocks that door on the top floor.

Yes indeed, The Old Dark House is at times truly suspenseful, a classic...well, a classic old dark house picture. It's particularly remarkable that with this film, James Whale simultaneously creates a genre and provides a cheeky take on the same. Sure, sure, there are frights lurking about here and there. but even more prevalent are the laughs: it's as much a black comedy as it is gothic thriller. (Incidentally, Whale would perfect this combination a few years later in Bride of Frankenstein.)

The Femm house is full of secrets and weirdos alike, and the result is a film that feels way ahead of its time. Gender-bent casting (though billed as John Dudgeon, it's Elspeth Dudgeon who portrays Sir Roderick), gay subtext, talk of sex and sin, piousness and atheism render The Old Dark House positively transgressive. It never quite approaches camp levels, but it teeters on the brink. Actors have a grand old time with the material, in particular Ernest Thesiger, who would reunite with Whale and give a memorable performance in Bride. Here, as Horace, he's an absolute delight who manages to make "Have a potato" a line worth quoting forever and always.

While The Old Dark House is certainly lauded, it also tends to be a bit overlooked when the great Universal horror films are discussed. It's the sibling locked away in the rafters, the oddball who doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the family...but really, that just means that it needs–and deserves–even more love and attention. Have a potato!

"I love you. I really love you."

Whether you are an American or not, if you're following the political scene here in the United States–I mean, how can you avoid it?–then you're likely mortified, depressed, terrified, nonplussed, and just plain worn the fuck out. Then you remember the election is still 236 days away and you think about renting a convertible, finding the nearest canyon, and Thelma-and-Louise-ening yourself into sweet oblivion. On the other hand, you don't really feel like leaving the house today so you simply opt to curb your Internetting and social mediaing. You should probably do that regardless.

On the upside of this garbage, all the recent AIDS in the Reagan era news talk got me thinkin' about and revisiting Todd Haynes's other Carol* in 1995's Safe.

I fully admit, when I saw Safe in theaters back in The Day, I wasn't super satisfied. I was disappointed, even. I didn't get it. Mind you, that reaction had more to do with my own preconceived notions of what the film would be than with any of its actual shortcomings, if it even has any. But I went into it expecting some horror-flavored Outbreak-style disease flick (we all had contagious illness fever back then, you see), and Safe...isn't that, despite the fact that Carol White has an environmental/chemical sensitivity and sickness. Or does she?

Safe asks that question of the viewer, and many more besides. The truth and right-or-wrong of everything is kept just out of reach, constantly teasing, and it remains that way until the last frame. All of those questions raised and not a single answer given–what frustrated me upon first viewing ("Where are the exploding faces and people bleeding out, dammit?!") now tantalizes. I gave the film a second chance a few years ago and it clicked and since then, I've delighted in unraveling the layers, plucking at all the threads to see where they lead.

While Carol Aird of Carol and Carol White of Safe are both women concerned with identity and finding their place in the world, they approach these issues from radically different places. Carol Aird knows who she is and what she wants, it's simply a matter of having the courage to claim both and live true to herself. Carol White, on the other hand, hardly exists. She takes up no space. Her voice barely projects–she speaks not from her diaphragm, but from the slightest vibration at that top of her vocal cords. You can be sure she leaves no impression on a mattress when she gets off of it. She is dwarfed by her monstrously large upper middle class surroundings, by her marriage, by everything.

It's easy to read her sudden illness as a rejection of all of this as she tries to finally figure herself out, but again, Todd Haynes doesn't give us such a nice, neat little metaphorical package. We're never given any indication that Carol has an inner life or engages in soul searching whatsoever, and ultimately it's impossible to gauge her motivations. She is simply an empty vessel adrift. She was isolated in her domestic life, but she only leaves it to find herself further isolated–this time quite literally, as she takes to living in a germ-free domicile in a remote desert community of like-minded sufferers. Is she now happy? What does happiness mean to Carol White? Would she even recognize it?

By 1995, Julianne Moore was beginning to emerge as an Actress of Note, One to Watch after turns in Short Cuts and The Hand That Rocks the Cradle–and she is remarkable in Safe. Moore and Haynes provide a great example of that wondrous and rare director-actress synergy that is so rewarding to watch. She knows this character, she gets what he's written, and he lets her work. Every frame of the thing is worth savoring and the production design...it is perfectly 1987. The colors, the puffiness! A nightmare in pastel.

If you've yet to see Safe, fucking see Safe already. I realized in that theatre that it's not "horror", but in the years since I've figured out that it's existentially horrifying, so what's the difference? Play it fast and loose with genre conventions, man, and unravel those threads.


*YES I am still completely obsessed with Carol and I am sure I always will be, so you just count yourself lucky if I don't go ahead and turn this dump into a Carol blog once and for all

Ye gvd of Masfachusets Bay Colanee and oyerwise

Think not on the Fear that lyes vpon yy head and heart. Trust Yyself, Trust The VVitch, vnburthen Yyself and seest svch Entertaynments for the bettering of thy mind.

Or something. Basically I am still unpacking my thoughts and feelings about The Witch too much to write anything resembling a proper (or even proper-ish) review, but I thought I would chime in here to say that I loved it. So there.