Day 7 - "She was born under an unlucky star."

I'll just say what one voter already knew, right up front: The Vampire Doll (1970) rules.

I'd long wanted to indulge in director Michio Yamamoto's Bloodthirsty Trilogy, and thanks to the blessings of SHOCKtober I finally cracked open the simply gore-geous Blu-ray from Arrow Video (I've been busy, okay) and phew lawd, I'm in love. In love, I tells ya! From the warm fuzzy feelings the familiar Toho Studios screen will induce in anyone who grew up watching Godzilla movies to the end credits, I was in this to win this Japanese take on the bloodier, creepier side of Hammer-style horror.

On a dark and stormy night, Kazuhiko Sagawa (Atsuo Nakamura) takes a taxi to the family estate of his fiancée Yûko (Yukiko Kobayashi), deep in the countryside. He's excited to see her, as he's been away for six months...but he's worried, because she was supposed to meet him at the train station. Sadly, Yûko's mother (Yôko Minakaze) confirms Sagawa's worst fears, telling him that Yûko died just two weeks prior in an auto accident caused by a mudslide.

But is Yûko really dead? Or is her that Sagawa sees wandering the grounds late at night, ethereal in her flowing, white gown?

A week passes and Keiko Sagawa (Kayo Matsuo) hasn't heard from her brother since he went to visit Yûko. Worried, she and her boyfriend Hiroshi (Akira Nakao) head to the estate in the countryside, and the question remains:

First of all, yes, look at how impossibly damn cool Hiroshi and Keiko are. 

The Vampire Doll is a lean, mean 71 minutes as it wastes no time getting to the goods and...well, staying there. It's a fascinating 70s contemporary take on Western gothic as filtered through a Japanese lens: Yûko's mother dresses traditionally, but her estate is decidedly Western ("My husband was a diplomat," she explains, simply). She's suitably sinister, her motives largely unclear as she keeps insisting that her daughter is really dead, even though her daughter is spotted all over the house and its grounds. Keiko and Hiroshi are the perfect detective duo, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery and find Kazuhiko. Yûko is creepy as hell but her story is ultimately a sad one. In fact, "creepy as hell but ultimately sad" is how I'd sum up this whole movie. (That's how you know this is Asian horror baby!)

I know I'm all over the place and not really saying much here, but hey--this is one of those films that Ijust want to yell "GO WATCH THIS!" about because it's simply a delightful experience and perfect SHOCKtober season viewing. So do yourself a favor. GO WATCH THIS!

"Ohio"

I tells ya, I don't know how many unfinished posts I have sitting in my drafts, but it surely numbers somewhere around a metric fuckton. Since we last spoke (with our eyes), I have started posts about movies I love, movies I do not love, and movies I have no particularly strong feelings for one way or the other. Every single one of those drafts immediately devolved into what I will generously call pandemic feelings, because how could they not? It is something that everyone in the world is dealing with--even those dum-dums who won't wear a fucking mask--so of course it must be acknowledged. And in case you haven't noticed, in addition to a GD pandemic, the world is on fire in other (vitally important) ways. Hundreds of people are marching every day, even if algorithms and the media have decided not to show us the protests anymore.

See how it happens? Now I have a paragraph of acknowledging the acknowledgments.

I mention all of this not only because it (sort of) explains that I haven't completely forgotten about this place, but because if you're a regular Gaylords of Darkness listener, then you may have noticed we've been absent a couple of weeks. This was a conscious decision, as a podcast talking about horror movies would just be taking up space and diverting from more worthwhile causes. We've been using our social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram) to boost other voices. There's often a dissonance when we talk about politics and the world at large on our show--like, there are literally children in cages at our border, while we sit here chatting about Nail Gun Massacre--and that dissonance has never been as pronounced as it's been lately.

Of course, there are a handful of horror movies that are extremely relevant to the current political climate, and one of those horror movies is Suspiria. You may have heard me mention it around here once or twice or 31 times.

Today, Gaylords of Darkness returns with our fourth episode about this masterpiece...and this time, Anthony and I are joined by Suspiria screenwriter David Kajganich and director Luca Guadagnino.

YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT. YES I AM DEAD.

You can listen to it here, or find Gaylords of Darkness wherever you kids conjure your podcasts--Apple, Spotify, whatever.

To say this opportunity and conversation mean absolutely everything is obviously the hugest of understatements. We chat for about an hour about revolution, representation, Final Girls, lesbian sex covens, and so much more. We talk about the film in ways I've never heard or seen it discussed! There are revelations! Revelations, people!

I don't know where we could possibly go with Gaylords after this (or heck, with Final Girl), but we're going to try. As we mention at the end of this show, we've got a small plan that makes us feel okay about continuing to record and publish episodes as the world rages. Consider following us on one of those social media platforms, because that's where we'll be announcing and updating in the next few days. I'll try to post about it here, too, but you'd probably have to read a paragraph of pandemic feelings to get to the good stuff, and who wants that?

Masterpiece Theatre...of, Like, Blood and Whatever

So listen, to be honest with you guys I have not watched a lot of horror lately. The things I am anxious to see have not made their way to my orbit yet (hey The Witch will you hurry up and get in my face, please please??) and everything that is currently in my orbit seems dull. Thus, I have been indulging hardcore in my other lifelong cinematic obsession, actresses acting the shit out of stuff. I could talk about these movies here–you know, write a million words about every frame and moment of Carol, or maybe a piece praising Marion Cotillard's posture throughout Two Days, One Night–but horror is Final Girl's wheelhouse and so I simply bother everyone around me with these other thoughts. The world is either richer or poorer for it, I am sure.

Anyway, this all got me thinking–what are some of the great performances in horror? What actors and actresses fucking kill it and make you grateful that cinema exists? It doesn't have to be a lead character, or any performer you've ever heard of. It can just be a single, small moment that rings perfectly true and leaves you breathless. Some of my favorites:

- Sissy Spacek in Carrie, obviously, heartbreaking even when she's terrifying
- Donald Sutherland wailing as he holds the lifeless body of his young daughter in Don't Look Now
- Essie Davis in The Babadook, a performance which would have been nominated for an Academy Award if the world were just. The movie isn't "the scariest thing you've ever seen" as the marketing promised, but it is an astonishingly honest depiction of depression and grief with some horror thrown in.

- Veronica Cartwright losing her shit in Alien
- All of Martyrs, of course, but the moment where Lucie stands on the bed and fires her shotgun at the daughter hiding underneath...it's such a fleeting moment, but Juliette Gosselin's reaction is pure, unadulterated fear–something that horror calls for so often and is so hard for actors to truly deliver.

I have some more in mind but I want to hear from you! What and who are your faves? And don't everybody say Lynda Day George in Pieces, we all know that flawless performance can't be touched.

Day 22: WE ARE WHAT WE ARE (2013)

I kind of want to wait another week to write a review of We Are What We Are, because I feel like I'll need at least that long to come down, to process it. I knew nothing about this movie going in (it's a remake of a 2010 Mexican film, what the heck!), and when the Netflix description mentioned a family of cannibals keeping up traditions and all that, well, I certainly wasn't expecting...this. I didn't anticipate the movie would be drenched in sorrow from beginning to end. I figured I was in for exploitation and gore, you know, and to find my guts twisted up from tension and melancholy was a pleasant–no, make that a heartwrenching, bittersweet, terrible in the best way–surprise.

The Parker family has always kept to its ancestral ways, but as more...responsibilities...fall to teenage daughters Iris and Rose, they begin to have doubts. Why can't they be like everyone else instead of what they are? Does the Maker truly forgive, and will the unceasing rains and rising waters wash away their sins?

While it's one of the more depressing horror movies I've seen, I can't say enough good things about We Are What We Are. As I said, it's still working its way around my brain and I'm basically just a meat sack full of feelings right now. Everything floored me, everything. The gloomy-ass atmosphere, the subdued script and pitch perfect acting that brings these rich characters to life–oh, the acting, I want to marry the acting. Actually, I might have to cancel the rest of SHOCKtober not only because come on, it's all downhill from here, but because I want to marry the whole movie and spend the remainder of the month honeymooning with it. THIS MOVIE, YOU GUYS.

Let me tell you about some stuff I watched

Boy I tell ya, this life as a well-versed horror fan is indeed a hard knock one, for I generally feel that I've seen all the good horror movies there are to see. I find myself totally envious when I learn that someone has yet to see a time-honored classic such as Halloween or Devil Dog: The Hound of Hell. "You there!" I say. "Your face is about to be rocked off by unbelievable heights of terror. I remember that feeling well, and I find myself totally envious!" Then they say "Get away from me, old woman," and I go back in the house.

Listen, I ain't got time to be a cynic anymore and I try to give every movie a fair shake. I certainly don't add The Curse of Lizzie Borden: Prom Night to my Netflix queue with any notion that it's going to end up in the Criterion Collection of my heart (its title most definitely will, though, I mean oh my god). Still, when I decide to give a film my eyeball virginity, I want to believe it has the potential to blow me away but good. It happens very rarely, but when it does my eternal horror flame burns a little bit brighter.

Well. Said eternal horror flame is now an eternal horror bonfire thanks to Who Can Kill a Child? (1976), which blew my mind so much that I'm still trying to process it.

A third pregnancy has Tom (Lewis Fiander) and his wife Evelyn (Prunella Ransome) feeling a bit overrun, so they leave their two little ones at home in England and head to a remote Spanish island for a brief vacation. After a four hour journey in a small powerboat, they arrive at Almanzora and find it eerily quiet and empty save a few children who do little more than stare at them. There is no one in attendance in the shops, houses, and hotel in the small village; food left on tables and a television tuned to static indicate that folks must have left in a hurry.

The truth is much darker: the island's adult population was murdered by the children, and Tom and Evelyn are next.

Now, now, before you go thinking, "You were blown away by some Children of the Corn shit?" let's get a few things straight. Sure, on paper Who Can Kill a Child? sounds similar to the best part of Children of the Corn (come on, everyone knows that the part where the kids kill their parents is the best part of that movie), but trust me, man, this is no Corn-ening. Who Can Kill a Child? is depressing and shockingly brutal, if not necessarily graphic. It's a fantastic watch but a tough one, particularly the lengthy opening credits sequence, which consists of several minutes' worth of vintage newsreel footage depicting the atrocities committed on children in concentration camps and wars the world over. Honestly, it's too much; I managed to resist the strong urge to fast-forward, and I nearly turned the whole thing off. I get the point that director Narciso Ibáñez Serrador was trying to make with it, but it still feels exploitative and largely unnecessary.

Don't let it dissuade you from watching this film, because the rest of it is must-see, a primo slice of 70s horror and an incredibly tense experience. Still, be warned: this movie does push boundaries and break some of mainstream cinema's last taboos by answering the very question it poses in the title.

On the exact opposite end of the spectrum from this film is Spooked, a brand new Internette Comedie Programme from Geek & Sundry.

The show gives a gentle- and I do mean gentle!- ribbing to the horror genre and those ubiquitous ghost hunter-style programs as we follow the exploits of a rag-tag group of Dollar Tree paranormal investigators. The premiere episode follows the group as they suss out some poltergeist activity and bust some ghosts at the home of a newlywed couple.

As it's only one episode in, Spooked has yet to find its legs thanks to the "getting to know the cast" bits that weigh down nearly all first episodes. It's off to a promising start, though, particularly as it's co-written by Felicia Day, whose webutainment (let's pretend that's a word) pedigree can't be beat. Make no mistake, the show is a comedy with the lightest sprinkling of horror...but I'm down to see where the show goes. If I were to write Spooked one of those open letters that seems to be de rigueur nowadays, it'd go a little something like...this, which totally counts as writing an open letter, I guess:

Dear Spooked, 

Don't be afraid to have a bit more bite if you want to reel in the horror crowd; after all, the best horror-comedies feature the genres living together in perfect harmony à la ebony and ivory. Take a cue from Sam Raimi's playbook (or hell, Edgar Wright's) and get your hands dirty!  

Also, please, the Annoying Tech Guy stock character is so irritatingly overplayed in paranormal horror movies, you don't need him, too. 

Kudos on a diverse cast and featuring women who are married- to each other!- in the episode without making it, like, a thing. Someday mainstream entertainment will catch up to the people who simply make the kind of shit they want to see and put it on the web. 

Oh, and after her fucking brilliant performance as Ellie in The Last of Us, Ashley Johnson has an Ultimate Lifetime Forever Free Pass from me, so casting her in this ensures that you will always have at least one viewer (me). I would even go see, like, Black Christmas 2 if she were in it, even though the very idea of a Black Christmas 2 is an abomination and makes me want to kill myself. I mean, I hated the first one so much, a sequel would just- but wait, this isn't about me, it's about you. What was I saying? I don't even know anymore. Well, bye.   

PS - there should be a horror vlog on Geek & Sundry, I am just saying.

You can watch Spooked on Hulu and/or on Geek & Sundry's YouTube channel.

In other Internette news, check out We Come in Pieces: The Rebirth of the Horror Anthology Film, a short documentary about...wait for it...horror anthologies. Familiar faces such as that of Joe Dante discuss what makes a horror anthology so great. Because they are! You should know by now that I love 'em so hard. Any fan who knows what's up should give this one a whirl...at the least, you'll be reminded how super fucking rad the soundtrack for Creepshow is. And you can feel superior when none of the talking heads mention that the segment they go on about in Tales from the Darkside: The Movie is a remake of a segment in the Japanese anthology Kwaidan (1964). Geez, pffft, everyone knows that, like why didn't they uh ohhhhh my anti-obnoxious pills are wearing off, I gotta go!

amazon one-star reviews: THE EXORCIST

Hey everybody, it's William Friedkin's birthday! Why not celebrate with a one-star review of his masterpiece, The Exorcist? I'm sure he'll be thrilled.

I'm not surprised that the film has received its fair share of negative reviews from the masses, particularly those who have recently seen it for the first time. This movie has been hyped beyond measure, consistently cited as one of the greatest horror films in the goddamn universe. If anything, that kind of praise can work against a movie: if "one of the greatest horror films in the goddamn universe" doesn't totally completely 100% rock a new viewer's face off, the film becomes an overrated failure. I'd say that changing audience sensibilities and the decidedly 1970s pacing of The Exorcist share the bulk of the blame for that, but I know hardcore horror fans who don't like this film and don't think it's scary whatsoever (generally because they're atheists and therefore, you know, what's so frightening about Satan and the such?). I think anybody who doesn't like The Exorcist is a crazy person, but hey, everybody has their hang-ups.

But enough about what I think of The Exorcist- what does this Amazon reviewer think about The Exorcist? This one-star critique is a real treat: a critique within a critique! It's like the Russian nesting doll of reviews.

THE EXORCIST, the saddest and most disgustingly bad movie of all time, is the classic story of a young girl, Regan, whom through a Squeegy Board, becomes posessed by Satan. The film is supposedly based on a True Story about a young boy, whom in 1949, became posessed. That is unconfirmed.

MY REVIEW:
"I hate this movie with a passion because it is so evil, and only a devil worshiper would love this movie and want to watch again and again. It is the ultimate evil you can find in this world. The scary thing about it is, is that this movie is based on a true story. NOW DON'T GET ME WRONG: This movie is VERY scary, but is just a gross out devil movie. No one in this whole world should see something so terrible. IT IS BAD- plain and simple, and I mean BAD as in it isn't a good movie for anyone to see. So all of you people who say this is a great movie, you just make evil seem so good."

I am glad this review opened my eyes to my own nature. No longer can I deceive myself: I am a devil worshiper. Otherwise, how could I love The Exorcist? Everything I thought about myself has been a lie! I have not been living a Satan-tastic life so far, but that's going to change right now. I'm bustin' out my Squeegy Board and later, after dinner, I'm gonna sacrifice somethin' but good.

Hello, this is Murder calling

One of my favorite activities is boring A Young Person to the brink of collapse with a litany of things that used to be better and/or things they've missed out on simply because they weren't around to experience them. Sure, sometimes I'll pause in my droning and think, "Have I become an actual crone yet? Do I really need to lament the loss of Fudgalicious right now? If I do, could I not do so privately? Surely this Young Person would rather skateboard or drink a Four Loco than listen to me talk about The Good Old Days." Then I stop zoning out and realize that the Young Person wandered off because I was no longer talking but simply staring off into space instead.

Their loss though, amirite? Yes! By wandering off, they will miss my blathering about specific topics related to things being better decades ago. Topics including, but not limited to:

1. Fudgalicious gum
2. Freshen Up gum, which I guess is still around but no one buys it because when you think about it, the way it squirted into your mouth was a bit disconcerting, really
3. I don't know why I keep mentioning gum. I don't even chew gum. That's not really a topic for the list, I am just saying.
4. Dallas, Dynasty, Knots Landing, Falcon Crest, Arthur Hailey's Hotel, and why am I not writing a book about 80s nighttime soaps
5. Made-for-TV horror movies
6. Having to wait a year (at least) for theatrically-released movies to come out on video, and then only renting everything because movies were, like, $100
7. Comics were everywhere

NOTE TO SELF- a talking point to add to this list in these future "conversations" (let's be real, it's just me going on and on): telephones, specifically as they used to relate to horror movies.

Look, I am not so old as to not realize that phones are still around. But let's face it...when it comes to horror movies, the tiny portable computer camera phone devices everyone has nowadays are boring. "Oh no, I can't get a signal, we're doomed!" - snooze. "My cell battery is dead!" - oh no, feel the excitement. "A signal transmitted through our mobiles is turning everyone into zombies! Well, maybe not technically zombies, but I guess it depends on your definition of a zombie!" - You know, lots of things turn people into zombies, be they technically zombies or no. Cell phones are just Dullsville, you guys. And as far as I know, they are not readily available in sweet avocado or mustard colors, so again: what is the point of them?

In The Old Days, handsets were usually connected to bases, and bases were always connected to houses. Literally! Connected by wires! If someone knew your phone number, chances were good they knew where you lived. If you answered the phone, you were home. Sure, now folks change cell numbers frequently- but once upon a time, you were tethered to that shit for life. And in case you are a dummy, let me remind you that the "mobile" in "mobile phone" means that you can take your phone with you. How scary would the beginning scenes of Scream been if the killer had called Casey while she were at CVS instead of making Jiffy Pop in her own kitchen?

"Do you like scary movies?"
"What's that? Sorry, I can't hear you."
"I said, 'DO YOU LIKE SCARY MOVIES?'"
"Excuse me, can you tell me where the unguents are?"
"Hello?"
"Sorry, I'm at CVS and I need-"
"DO YOU LIKE SCARY MOVIES?"
"Who is this? Can you call back? I need to browse the salves aisle."
"WHEN YOU GO HOME I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."
"Well, I guess I won't go home, then."

Answer: not very scary, except maybe for whatever situation she's facing that requires the application of a medicinal balm.

"Send help, I have a rash!"

Just look at the way she's being harassed! It's much tougher to bother someone with weird questions or heavy breathing nowadays with this Caller I.D. business. If I don't recognize a number, I don't answer. If they keep calling, I turn my phone off. If they leave disturbing voice messages, I delete 'em instead of listening to them. Let me tell you, Billy and his "Don't tell what we did, Agnes" business wouldn't have gotten very far with me. This is why my life is not nearly as terrifying as Black Christmas. I love that movie, but I am not complaining.

See? AVOCADO.

As numbers were tethered to phones and phones were tethered to houses, so were people tethered to...phones and houses. If you left your home to escape whatever masked whackadoo trying to whackayou, you had to leave your lifeline behind. No rushing out to hide behind the garage and call for help! Kids today have it so easy. Why, even if you stayed home to call the cops, the kookadook could simply cut the phone line.

And then, of course, phones could also tether you to your death!

Yes, I drew this, so what

There are multiple ways for this: the obvious, as employed my Mr. Myers, above, and then like this, in the POSITIVELY DELIGHTFUL (so delightful I had to yell it) 1982 flick Murder By Phone, which I just watched and which is the reason I am thinking so much about telephones in horror movies:

Man oh man, this movie! Okay, when I say yell "POSITIVELY DELIGHTFUL", I really mean "largely terrible" except for all of the titular murders by phone. Yeah, there's some plot that involves environmental superprofessor Richard Chamberlain and his Mighty Beard trying to solve these murders by phones, but the plot really just gets in the way of the murders. You know, the murders by phones.

AND HERE THEY ARE. Now you don't have to watch 80 minutes, you only have to watch two. Although, be warned: it's so awesome, you may spend 80 minutes watching two minutes 40 times.


The beeping. The shaking. The bleeding from all the head holes. The lightning and thunder indoors. The people getting blasted off their feet and crashing into various things. The venerable John fucking Houseman getting murdered by phone! If there is a Heaven, my friends, it is this two minutes of cinematic history.

Also: see? AVOCADO.

Also also, it should be noted: the second death...that of Mr. Office Man, cements my new-found love of people flying through the air whilst remaining seated in chairs, a love that began with Children of the Corn II: The Final Sacrifice. I want it to be in every movie forever from now on. And maybe retroactively put in every movie that's already been made. What am I saying, "maybe"? Definitely.

Wait, what was I talking about before I got distracted? Oh yeah, telephones in horror movies. Here are some others where phones play a pivotal role- if not in the movie itself, then in my mind, which is the only thing that really matters:

• When a Stranger Calls / When a Stranger Calls Back (I mean, DUH)
• Don't Answer the Phone! (this is also the title of a chapter from my forthcoming book, Hermiting 101)
• A Nightmare on Elm Street 

Yes, I drew this, too SO SUE ME

• The Ring
• 976-EVIL (Satan has a phone number, y'all!)
• Friday the 13th Part 2 (the phone is totally tied to Alice's death for me)

And, of course, One Missed Call, the poster for which only proves how unscary cell phones are.

What the hell is that? Who decided that was a good idea? It makes me feel bad for the film, because man, that poster really puts the film at a disadvantage from the get-go. How could it bounce back from being saddled with that image? It's like...I don't know, being born only a head or something. Maybe that's not 100% impossible to overcome, but it's got to be 99.5% impossible at best. If you were only a head, how would you breathe or turn the pages while you're reading Entertainment Weekly or be alive? It would be super tough. And with a poster like that, how could One Missed Call be good? The answer lies in its infamous 0% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. I can't personally testify to its quality, because I've never seen it. Why would I? Life is too short, and it's much better spent watching people fly through the air on office furniture and boring The Young Folk.

awesome movie poster friday - the UNDERRATED edition!

As the title of this edition may let on, I find that the following movies are vastly underrated- criminally overlooked, even! Sure, we hardcore horror nuts might know about 'em or talk about 'em, but...won't someone think of the children? How are the softcore horror nuts supposed to know about these if we don't spread the gospel? SPREAD IT! SPREAD IT I SAY!

Okay...this is getting weird. Anyway.

Candyman (1992)

"Candyman? Say wuuuuut?"- yeah, I know how you do. Look, we've all seen Candyman and maybe we all like Candyman. Some of us even love Candyman. Yet...somehow it's neglected when great horror movies are discussed. Is it because it hit during the Great Horror Drought (c. 1987-1996)? Is it because it's lumped in with slasher flicks when it's really so much more? I don't know. I don't have all the answers, so get off my damn back with your damn questions! I admit: it's one of my favorite horror movies, but I'm always forgetting about it...but then maybe I've just trained myself to be that way so Candyman doesn't get me.

Paperhouse (1988)

One of the coolest, most imaginative genre films is one you've perhaps never seen, thanks to the fact that it's never been given a proper DVD release in the US and it's pricy to come by on VHS. This spare, creepy film about a sickly girl who can dream herself into the worlds she draws was directed by Bernard Rose, who also directed Candyman. Hmm...

Messiah of Evil (1973)

Look, I made my case for Messiah of Evil earlier today, so what else can I say? Okay, I can say this: check out the second ad here, which uses one of Messiah's alternate titles...and the tagline from Romero's Dawn of the Dead. Oh, misleading advertising...you so crazy!

Let's Scare Jessica to Death (1971)

When this cult classic was released on DVD not too long ago, some people were all "Eh, I don't see what the big deal is." Let's shun those people!

Alice, Sweet Alice (1976)

Ah, one of the first movies I reviewed here on Final Girl...way back when I didn't know what I was doing and most of you weren't even born yet. That's okay- we all learn and grow. Crappy writing on a nascent horror blog doesn't change the fact that Alice, Sweet Alice is an exercise, sweet exercise in terrifying, perverse slasher filmmaking that will leave your teeth feeling scuzzy and your face rocked off into the atmosphere.

The Grapes of Death (1978)

I can't blame you if you've yet to get on board with this sorta-zombie flick from Jean Rollin- why, I'm but a recent convert myself. Therefore, you get a 6-month grace period (STARTING NOW) to check it out before you are SHUNNED.

Just kidding. I'll only shun you behind your back, I swear!

PS: If you haven't seen the film, a warning: the middle poster miiiiiight be a liiiiiiittle misleading...by which I mean it totally is.

PPS: This movie deserves better posters. I think the first is actually a DVD cover, and the third is...well, what's it trying to convey? That there are giants running amok, or perhaps that the woman is very tiny? Are they implying there's some sort of weird Dr. Moreau-style fusing of humans and fruit- some Fruit of the Loomening, if you will- to be found in the film? There isn't, although I might be into that. DON'T JUDGE ME.

mah willies

Over at The Horror Digest, friend to both Final Girl and cats André put out a call for everyone's Top 10 Willies-Inducing Moments. Because I like to feel as if I belong, I've done gone and made up mah list! I've talked about plenty of these moments before in one capacity or another, but what can I say? If they gimme the willies, they gimme the willies. Besides, all the world loves a list, right? RIGHT?

The Shining - in the hallways

You know, I could simply write "the whole damn movie" when talking about Shining-induced willies. Every time I watch it, I have a new favorite scene or moment. I'll notice something I've never noticed before, or some little noise will get under my skin. Danny's hallway racetrack never fails to get me, though- and it's not simply because of those damn Grady sisters. It's Stanley Kubrick's use of sound that contributes immensely to the sense of unease at play; the wheels on wood and carpet...wood and carpet... It's the claustrophobic symmetrical framing of the scene. It's the disarming soundtrack. And yes, it's those damn Grady girls.

Black Christmas - the eye behind the door

Jess walks into a bedroom, finds her friends brutally slaughtered...and the killer is hiding behind the door, watching her and whispering to her. The tagline for Black Christmas is absolutely right: if this picture doesn't make your skin crawl, it's on too tight! Also, you're probably a jerk.

Session 9 - Hank returns to the asylum

Hank's greedy nature gets the best of him and he returns to the abandoned insane asylum after work, late at night, to abscond with the jewelry and gold teeth of dead patients. As he wanders the tunnels with only a flashlight to guide his way, he discovers he's not alone.

The Haunting - noises outside the door

Hill House is haunted. Whatever's haunting it stalks the hallways. It's very loud and it's right outside your door, pounding on the walls...

Salem's Lot - Mrs. Glick stirs

My inclination was to choose a Mr. Barlow-centric moment from Salem's Lot- man, that vampire's ugly mug gives me the serious willies every time it pops up. But this scene, in which the dead Mrs. Glick returns to (sort of) life as a vampire, is so full of dread that my goosebumps get goosebumps.

The Fog - Mrs. Kobritz answers the door

Old ladies are not supposed to get killed in horror movies. It's against some sort of law or something! John Carpenter is not afraid to go there, however, so he sends poor Mrs. Kobritz to answer the tap-tap-tapping at her door. Unfortunately for her, it's not an Amway salesman lurking in the fog. It's a bunch of mean leprous ghosts.

Yes, "Amway salesman". Apparently it's always 1979 in my world!

The Blair Witch Project - hands on the tent

I love Blair Witch. There, I said it and I don't care who knows it! It's got some unbelievably frightening sequences- not the least of it is the middle-of-the-night, middle-of-the-woods sound of children laughing...which is immediately followed by hands pounding on the outside of our unlucky filmmakers' tent. So not cool. SO NOT COOL. I like to camp. I have to very consciously not think of this scene whilst doing said camping- otherwise, I will undoubtedly puke my pants.

[REC] - that GD thing in the attic

I think [REC] is terrific. The first time I saw it, I could not cope with the end sequence in the attic. I held my breath. It gave me nightmares. It's still just about too much. It's perfect.

Event Horizon - someone's in the medical tent

Sometimes, all it takes is that all-familiar no one is supposed to be here trope to induce major willies. I'm not sure if it qualifies as the uncanny or cognitive dissonance or what, but that awful feeling that accompanies the thought I'm supposed to be alone here, but I'm not is largely what horror movies are made of for me.

I don't even know if that makes sense- I kind of feel like I simply typed a bunch of words that may or may not go together- but if you know what I mean, then I can tell you that this scene from Event Horizon is a prime example of it.

The Exorcist - that GD face

Is it Pazuzu? I don't know. I don't care. That face that subliminally flashes a few times throughout The Exorcist has frightened me since forever. I hate looking at it. I hate having it on my screen, on my blog. I can't rationally rationalize it away- that it's just Eileen Dietz in makeup. IT'S TOO TERRIFYING TO ME, and now I have to go because of it.

Day 5: "I've never felt like this before."

It's a wonder to me that Mausoleum and I have both been walking this planet since 1983, yet last night marked the first time we'd crossed paths. Approximately three minutes after I started playing the DVD, I realized that I'd found my one true soulmate. It doesn't matter where Mausoleum has been all my life- the important thing is that we've found each other at last, and we're now destined to walk the earth together!

Whilst visiting her mother's grave, li'l Susan decides she no longer wants to live with her Aunt Cora. She takes off running through the graveyard, stopping only when she hears someone whisper-singing her name. She peeks inside one mausoleum, but then spots another one across the way that's far more interesting in that it features its own weather system.

She enters the crypt, which is all lit up in greens and purples like the finest Spencer's Gifts. We learn that this is the tomb of the Nomed family...yes, NOMED. That's some seriously Nilbog shit, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, a clawed hand rises from the sarcophagus, things that defy explanation happen, and Susan's eyes light up all green and make a laser noise. The girl done went and got herself possessed!

Fast forward! Susan is now all grown up- she's portrayed by ex-Playboy Bunny Bobbie Bresee and she's married to Marjoe fucking Gortner. A charmed life, you say? It's easy to assume so, but there's a dark side to this fairytale existence! See, a woman of Susan's...err, attributes finds herself constantly subjected to the lechy gaze of creepy weirdo peeping tom gardeners and creepy weirdo Dan Haggerty-esque disco patrons.


All Susan wanted to do was go dancing with her husband (yes, Marjoe fucking Gortner disco dances!), but that Dan Haggerty-esque jerk made it so difficult that she was left with no choice but to use her magic green gaze to set his car on fire while he was locked inside.


The next day, the creepy gardener makes a bold pass at Susan while her husband is at work- her eyes get their green on and we know it's time for some demonic justice! But not before we bear witness to an eerily silent montage that clues us in as to just what, in fact, a gardener does with his day after making a pass at his employer:

He puts down fertilizer!

He mows the lawn!

He reads whilst eating lunch!

He takes a nap on the dock!

He sharpens his axe...

...and uses it!

Finally, Susan gets around to launching Operation: Get Back At The Grope-y Gardener: she strolls out onto her balcony wearing only a towel, then sips Riunite as if she's straight from a Jackie Collins novel.

Okay, in reality that's only Phase One of her plan. She continues the seduction approximately 9 hours later, when it's pitch black outside...insert helpful moon shot!

Susan's plan includes actually sleeping with the gardener- boy, this really teaches him a lesson! He suggests they partake in another round, but instead, Susan does her green-eyed thing, turns into some sort of a monster, and kills him with a garden implement. Okay, I guess that really teaches him a lesson.

Soon enough, Susan's victims don't actually have to trespass against her in order for her to unleash the NOMED lurking inside. Poor Aunt Cora, for example, shows up for a visit only to find herself floating around and killed dead thanks to her monsteriffic niece.



One person spared Susan's wrath is Elsie the maid (LaWanda Page...yes, Aunt Esther from Sanford & Son!). Intended as comic relief, Elsie is, in fact, a whopping slice of politically incorrect pie. Yet while she's given to saying things like "Great googily moogily!", Elsie is a rarity in that she's a black character who makes it 'til the end of the picture. When faced with a green fog emanating from Susan's bedroom, Elsie admits there's "Some strange shit goin' on in this house!", yells "No more grievin', I'm leavin'!", and splits.

There's so much more to Mausoleum, but I don't want to give away the whole package, as everyone should be allowed to discover it for him- or herself. Director Michael Dugan has truly given the world a gift! However, a few highlights:

- Susan undergoes hypnosis where she reveals her NOMED nature and corn teeth!

- There's the use of the term "facial fantasy"
- Dialogue includes "Yes...there's a history of possession."
- When possessed, Susan's depravity has no limits- she steals art from the mall!
- Something happens- I cannot reveal what it is, for you must witness it with your own eyes, but suffice it to say, it causes Marjoe fucking Gortner to pull what can only be called a Ridiculous Face of Pre-Death:

- While Mausoleum makes no sense as a whole, the very last shot of the film is so illogical that it actually defies the laws of science and mathematics. Even if you've never seen the film, your guess as to what the fuck is going on here is as good as mine:

- Then we get the end credits, which feature a tender song called "Free Again", written and sung by Frank Primato. It boasts lyrics like "Let's blow the fire dead...that's burning in my head..." and it's every bit as dreadful as you think it would be.

In case you haven't guessed, Mausoleum is a terrible, terrible film. The acting is horrendous, the dialogue atrocious, and the timing between the players is so off that every scene comes across like rejected audition tapes. There's a charm to Bobbie Bresee, but it's one borne of a performance that feels bathed in quaaludes. The sound is awful, as if there's a muted coffee pot percolating somewhere just off camera for the duration of the film. The direction is all but incompetent at times with dull compositions, pointless zooms and pans, and bizarre insert shots. The end of the film, featuring the "exorcism" (I use that term wicked loosely), takes 20 minutes but should only take seven. The creature effects, by genre vet John Carl Buechler, are '80s-style cheesy.

All of that is true, but oh how I loved this movie! I never wanted it to end, ever. On a scale of 1-10, I'd honestly rate it infinity. Lawd help me, it's true- the depths of deliciousness achieved are face-rockingly limitless. Forgive me, Shark Attack 3: Megalodon...step aside, Pieces...there's a new love of my life, and its name is Mausoleum!