...:::Kids Who Kill:::...

I love JACK KETCHUM, he scares the hell out me and once opened, you’d need a crowbar to pry one of his books out of my hands. OFFSPRING, scripted by KETCHUM himself, is based upon the literary sequel to his inaugural terrorizer OFF SEASON. If you’re wondering why we’re being presented with an adaptation of a sequel before its predecessor, as with many movie head scratchers, it involves a behind the scenes legal issue of some sort. No matter, OFFSPRING works just as well as a standalone story. In fact, the skeletal plot shadows the original tale closely. Basically you have a group of civilized folks battling off a tribe of attacking feral cannibals. An ex-cop is brought in to aid the police and a bloody climax takes place in the cave dwelling of the snarly savages.

On the page KETCHUM can convince you of anything, but OFFSPRING, as a film, has a much steeper hill to climb. Even though I have to admit to being vaguely freaked during some scenes (particularly during the first major attack on the film’s happy family) there’s a great deal here that fails to persuade. I like to think of myself as pretty adept at forgiving a film its budgetary restrictions, but the cave here looks borrowed from SIGMUND AND THE SEA MONSTERS and unfortunately (thanks to Aunt John’s tutelage) I now know a bad wig when I see one. Trust me, the wild marauders depicted are truly disturbing in their actions but, much like in the case of the now dated original THE HILLS HAVE EYES, it’s difficult to always take the grunting, blackened-toothed actors in loin clothes seriously.

Lovers of raw, depraved cinema may find scraps to gnaw on here and I appreciate the sparse approach, especially in terms of the films soundtrack. Still, the lack of credibility remains a major roadblock. The reality is, bringing KETCHUM’s vicious vision unadulterated to the screen is probably not only impossible but also illegal. Where say, THE GIRL NEXT DOOR made up for its cinematic limitations by concentrating on tone and performances, OFFSPRING, by nature, hasn’t quite the same option. Director ANDREW VAN DEN HOUTEN (HEADSPACE) can’t really be faulted for going straight for the jugular but without a believably solid rack to hang his entrails on, it’s an empty gesture. OFFSPRING has disturbing moments for sure (how else can you describe an infant thrown like a football?), but mostly it just feels routinely (and too often, humorously)…off.

[Read more →]

Believe the hype, ignore the backlash, the long awaited TRICK ‘R TREAT is definitely more treat than trick. Not only standing tall as an unabashed love letter to everybody’s favorite holiday, this movie succeeds as an ode to anthology films, horror comics and a twisted yet less cynical sensibility all but forgotten. If you’re a fan of eighties horror and have been missing the goofy dark fun of films like FRIGHT NIGHT, NIGHT OF THE CREEPS or especially CREEPSHOW, I guarantee you are going to gobble this up. It’s scary without being nauseating, funny without being brain dead and overall works like an injection of candy corn right into your veins. Sometime between now and the 31st of October do yourself a solid and rent or buy this film. If TRICK ‘R TREAT doesn’t get you in the Halloween spirit then frankly, you are a lost cause and deserve whatever egging, T.P.ing or flaming crap filled paper bag you find on your doorstep.

I won’t go into the whys and why nots of this films history. Most of you are probably aware that it missed a chance at a theatrical run and has wound up as a direct to DVD offering instead. Truth is, I’m not sure that modern audiences even deserve this kind of movie anyway. It’s beautifully shot, having no interest in looking sewer doused, characters are not required to be humiliated before death and at no point did I feel like somebody was trying to sell me a cell phone, a pair of jeans or a can of soda. If you’ve been waiting for the scariest movie ever made, keep waiting, this is more about that crisp creepy breeze that blows into town in autumn and the anticipation and excitement that occurs when darkness falls. It’s not a nail-biting ordeal; it’s a joyful, yet sometimes potently subversive salute to the convivial side of the macabre.

Remarkably director/writer MICHAEL DOUGHERTY has captured the spirit of All Hallow’s Eve like a bat in a fishing net, a feat made more impressive when you consider how many have failed at that task before him. Rather than compartmentalize his tales, he allows them to weave and interact and the result is rather innovative in the realm of anthology horror. This is obviously a work of love and it shows and although its final moments could have used a little extra punch, there are few things to complain about here. Maybe I’m suddenly old fashioned or maybe this film just falls right in line with my own tastes, but one thing is for sure, there’s no doubt I’ll to be watching TRICK ‘R TREAT every October (along with my other holiday standbys) till that old grim reaper comes and tears me away.

[Read more →]

As notorious as 1984’s CHILDREN OF THE CORN may be, one could hardly call it a cinematic masterpiece. Whatever its shortcomings, and there are many, it remains memorable almost solely due to the genuine, can’t be faked creepiness of its two main stars and no, I’m not referring to LINDA HAMILTON and PETER HORTON. As Isaac, the preternatural preacher, JOHN FRANKLIN (25 at the time) gave off a disturbingly uncanny vibe the likes of which audiences would not witness again (until perhaps just recently with ISABELLE FUHRMAN’s remarkable turn in THE ORPHAN). Isaac’s right hand ginger general Malachi (COURTNEY GAINES) provided an almost equal amount of consternation with a mere glare that could stop a clock.

The Syfy Channel’s 2009 interpretation may have had the intention of adding a darker more hopeless vibe with an assist from original author STEPHEN KING, but the results, thanks to erroneous casting, are an unpopped kernel. It may not seem fair to place all of the blame for this movie’s failure on the lap of child actor PRESTON BAILEY, but without a believable or at least remotely menacing Isaac (BAILEY should be shilling Welch’s grape juice rather than shepherding a cult), the entire effort is pointless. Don’t expect the new-fangled Malachi (DANIEL NEWMAN) to pick up the slack either; the only type of fear he instilled in me was the type that had me scrambling to IMDb to check out his date of birth (thankfully dude is 28). For further evidence, check out the photo below. Now, which Malachi do you want to run away from and which do you want to go paddle boating with in Central Park?

Epic casting fails aside, there’s more wrong here than the Smurf-ification of the children. BATTLESTAR GALACTICA’s KANDYSE McCLURE (who did KING a disservice once before as Sue Snell in the CARRIE re-blotch) is borderline intolerable as one-note harpy Vicki. Although Vicki’s in-car gang assault does manage to muster up some steam, it’s not nearly strong enough to make up for the fact that most of the kiddie mob scenes resemble poorly staged grade school war reenactments. Worse of all, unless I had a blackout that I’m not aware of, the film just stops with what has to be one of the most anticlimactic closings I have ever witnessed. CORN fans disappointed with the original film’s reveal of “He who walks behind the rows” will find that issue solved by credits rolling speedily past instead.

As a fan of STEPHEN KING’s short story I really wanted to like and was excited for a more a faithful adaptation of his tale. There are some interesting tweaks like having main guy Burton (relatively faultless DAVID ANDERS) suffer from ‘Nam flashbacks, but for the most part I was left mostly depressed about just how weak the pen is when up against lackluster filmmaking. An uncut DVD is just around the corner, but unless it includes an entirely different production amongst its features, I say chase it out of town like an outlander.

[Read more →]

FRAYED starts off with a bang, subjecting the viewer to what has to be the most brutal on-camera bludgeoning this side of IRREVERSIBLE. We’re watching a home video of a child’s birthday party and although little Kurt Baker’s behavior has been consistently atrocious throughout the festivities; the murder of his mother with a baseball bat really takes the cake. Needless to say, it’s off to the funny farm with Kurt, where he shall sit in a chair and think about his actions for thirteen years whilst giving kid sis some time to adjust to normalcy before his inevitable homecoming. Yep, the springboard applied here is Slasher Movie 101, harking back to pep-pep HALLOWEEN but don’t get too cozy kids, the playing field may look familiar, but there are curve balls up ahead.

Here is a movie that is well aware of its audience’s expectations and remarkably uses them to its advantage without condescension. You never have to think twice about whether there are real fans of horror driving this rig. The atmosphere is spot on and the scares well orchestrated, even the timing, lax by today’s standards, rings true of a more patient early eighties hack and slash. Perhaps most importantly the masked killer himself is a successful ode, although it should be said that his lumbering stride and rag doll silhouette favors MADMAN more than MYERS.

On the downside FRAYED may be a bit imprudent with showing some of its cards too early in the game, although it hardly alters the level of suspense, I felt I was privy to a particular reveal way before I should have been. That said, FRAYED can afford to be generous with the dispensing of information because as it turns out, it has more than one trick up its sleeve. Some of the performances might leave something to be desired, but the pivotal ones (particularly TONY DOUPE as Kurt’s sheriff father) are right on the money. All lapses considered, this is still a damn sleek looking independent production that follows through on its mission to honor a specific type of film while adding modern flourishes and a more in-depth psychological under current.

The real break down goes like this: the first kill made me wince, an appearance of the killer in a window mid way through the film made me jolt upright and the ultimate conclusion had me thinking: “Holy crap!” If that’s not time well spent I don’t know what is. If you are a classic horror fan I think you will enjoy FRAYED, and if you are a slasher fan, you just might love it.

[Read more →]

There is something really wrong with the Poe children (real life siblings AMBER JOY and AUSTIN WILLIAMS): they don’t talk much, they show cruelty towards small animals, and they are getting sent home from school for biting people. Father (NEAR DARK’s ADRIAN PASDAR) thinks religion is the answer while mom (CADY McCLAIN) votes for psychotherapy. Meanwhile, as matters escalate it’s clear to the audience that both parents regardless of their beliefs, really worship at the altar of denial.

HOME MOVIE is one of those found footage films like THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT, CLOVERFIELD and [REC] that places the viewer smack dab in the action thanks to the notion that some people like filming things more than they like staying alive. It is fascinating in places, frustrating in others and I think one’s enjoyment of it will probably be determined by how tightly they cling to the whole “this is reality” thing.

Personally I’m torn, I love this film’s cryptic foreshadowing and its refusal to identify the origin of the evil involved, and yet parts of it feel like a cheat. For example, the parents seem incapable of retaining any knowledge of previous insurrections on the part of their children. If your kids killed the goldfish, moved on to frogs and then graduated to crucifying the cat, wouldn’t it be logical to keep them away from the family dog? On the other hand, this may be the only movie I’ll ever get to see that features ADRIAN PASDAR in a pink bunny suit, so like I said…torn like NATALLIE IMBRUGLIA.

I think there is a strong story here that deserves better than having to slavishly touch base with the whole “fake reality” trope at regular intervals. Those who enjoy pointing out puppet strings can have a field day ripping apart the incongruities that abound. Better time is spent perhaps appreciating the legitimate creep factor and the subtle psychological game play, which is ultimately a great deal more interesting. I have to say as much as I didn’t buy the film’s central conceit; there are certainly scenes that really work fantastically at getting into your brain and staying there like a bad jingle (or an ice cream truck tune).

HOME MOVIE is effective enough to stand out from the crowd, but for maximum enjoyment it might be a good idea to take a leap of faith in regard to its fuzzy logic. It may not be able to convince you that it is “real,” but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was persuasive enough to have some parents out there locking their bedroom doors at night anyway.

[Read more →]

It’s no secret that I love a good killer kid flick but with the exception of TOM SHANKLAND’s THE CHILDREN (‘08), they have been pretty scarce of late. Kids do show up often in modern horror but for the most part, they have been hollow-eyed window dressing propped up to utter Cassandra-like warnings or just plain ineffectual, weightless ghouls. It’s about damn time somebody stripped the supernatural out of the equation and introduced a killer kid who cuts through the bullshit and gets the job done. The tag line for THE ORPHAN may read “There’s something wrong with Esther,” but for those thirsty for a new horror icon, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Esther at all.

You might think reading this review on a website called Kindertrauma might mean that I was an easy target for THE ORPHAN and that essentially in my case, the filmmakers were preaching to the converted. There may be some truth to that, but let me say that after learning the film was being delivered by DARK CASTLE ENTERTAINMENT I was cautiously un-optimistic. DARK CASTLE has provided snippets of worthy horror but they usually have a chronic ability to screw up their films by trying way too hard. What should be a straight forward affair usually ends up a convoluted heap of kitchen sink half-thoughts resembling a late in the game KATAMARI DAMACY ball. THE ORPHAN carries little baggage besides a water cooler ready, ace up its sleeve, and it is all the better for it. God bless its adherence to the K.I.S.S. principle (Keep it simple stupid!) and its highly unfashionable patience.

Taking structural cues from domestic disturbance television flicks and early nineties usurper porn (a shout out to my peeps Peyton Flanders and Hedy Carlson!), THE ORPHAN bravely discards the typical pandering bells and whistles (AUNT JOHN SEZ: Do you mean ta-tas?) used to glamour (in the TRUE BLOOD sense) teenage boys and gets right down to some seriously trashy campadelic partying. That it is able to provide actual acting opportunities to its adult cast in the meantime is just that much more impressive. It’s by no means a seamless masterpiece, and logic is not so much leaped over as jet-packed over, but there’s no way around the fact that you get your money’s worth here.

I don’t care how much cash this baby hauls in or how many knee jerk, dismissive reviews it accumulates, even if it has to gain its reputation in the home market, I assure you that THE ORPHAN is here to stay, be it by go-to punchline, S.N.L. skit or SIMPSONS TREEHOUSE OF HORROR reference, Esther is going to wedge the heal of her Buster Browns into the public consciousness for good. Even if the general public turns their back there is no way the gays are going to drop this ball. Drag queens, practice your Russian accent, October is only a few months away!

P.S. Commit this name to your memory: ISABELLE FUHRMAN!

UPDATE: A little added incentive to go see THE ORPHAN while it’s still in theaters…

• Review from DINNER WITH MAX JENKE
• Review from FREDDY IN SPACE
• Review from I LOVE HORROR
• Review from PLANET OF TERROR

[Read more →]

Oh THE BROOD, how I love thee. Is there any better horror film for Mother’s Day than THE BROOD? Is there any better horror film for any day than THE BROOD? From Kindertrauma’s inception, we’ve always felt a keen bond with this CRONENBERG masterpiece. Here is a film that deals with two of our favorite pet themes, “Tykes in Trouble” and “Kids Who Kill” (albeit mutant kids) and although we’ve mentioned it in numerous posts, we’ve yet to really stop and give it the proper attention it deserves. Why? Because I have been way too scared to. THE BROOD, like much of CRONENBERG’s work, is just so damn interesting on so many levels that it has always attracted absolutely fascinating discussions from minds much sharper than my own. How could little old me objectively examine something so grand when my gut instinct is to just bow down and kiss its feet? I guess I’m just going to have to man up because we need a proper THE BROOD post up in here and it’s not going to write itself. So here goes kids, I’m throwing my propeller beanie into the ring…

ART HINDLE plays Frank Carveth a guy with many an issue, the least of which is the fact that he seems to own only one pair of corduroys. Frank discovers wounds on his young daughter Candace’s back and suspects that they came courtesy of his strange, estranged and partially deranged ginger-ex Nola (perfectly cast hand grenade in a housecoat SAMANTHA EGGAR.) At the time Nola is undergoing unconventional therapy in a safe trap house called the Somafree Clinic, and any question as to whether this treatment will be beneficial is answered by the fact that Nola’s Doctor, Hal Raglan, is portrayed by a tightly coiled ham sandwich named OLIVER REED. We follow Frank as he learns that there is a hideous side effect to Raglan’s cutting edge work. Raglan’s patients’ pain, once drudged to the surface, manifest into physical form. In Nola’s case, troll like beast children are spawned and are set out into the world to express her rage mostly by smashing people on her shit-list in the face with blunt objects.

It might all sound a tad silly, but in CRONENBERG’s hands (or should I say through his mind?) it ends up saying more about the human condition (and family dysfunction in particular) than all the hand wringing dramas you can think of combined. Inspired by CRONENBERG’s own strenuous divorce, there is real venomous acrimony here. Some (including the director himself) claim THE BROOD is his answer to KRAMER VS. KRAMER, and if it is, than his “answer” is a smack of a wooden meat mallet to each Kramer’s skull with perhaps an extra little whack for the Mrs. As worthy as THE BROOD’s concepts about how the mind affects the body are, the larger truth unearthed involves how abuse lingers from generation to generation in a family like an unshakable hereditary disease. Now that I think about it, maybe both ideas are as compatible as broken vases and black eyes.

A funny thing happened on the way to the forum. While doing a little background reading on THE BROOD (yes, I was wearing bifocals) I came across, I’m sure a very well meaning person, who was outraged by a particular scene in the film. In the scene (which was built to disturb and therefore must be considered successful) a woman is savagely (and some say hilariously) bludgeoned to death in front of a group of young school children. The disgruntled viewer was upset that such a scene would ever be filmed with children present. I personally assume that precautions were taken like, I don’t know, telling the kids that they were filming a movie or perhaps editing things in such a way, but something about this person’s indignant tone stuck in my craw. It seems to me that a lot of adults spend a lot of time worrying about what children witness on television or in movies (as well they should), but not so much time worrying about what behavior they witness in their own homes. This might sound off topic, but I think that it is partially what THE BROOD is about, the lingering effects of witnessing domestic abuse (physical, verbal and psychological) and the curse of absorbing your elders’ insecurities and prejudices (not to mention, rage). Violence on the T.V. is scary (check out this site called kindertrauma…) but sometimes mom and dad and grandma and grandpa leave real lasting wounds that you can’t simply turn off with the flick of a switch.

Was that a soapbox I just stepped off of? I apologize, but as I said I cannot even pretend to critique THE BROOD; the movie is just too damn awesome and over my head. In order to leave on a positive note though, I will add this, the score, (the first of many done for CRONENBERG by HOWARD SHORE) is so incredibly perfect that it makes you want to slap someone.

[Read more →]

Perhaps the one thing your Aunt John knows even less about than birthing babies is the actual desire to have one in the first place. Really, the last thing I need is someone else to ruin my figure, or a write a tell-all book about my disdain for wire hangers. Despite my intrinsic lack of maternal yearnings, I found myself drawn into the dilemma of the childless Czech couple in surrealist director’s JAN SVANKMAJER’s LITTLE OTIK. After the hopelessly impotent Karel (JAN HARTL) fails at impregnating his barren wife Bozena (VERONIKA ZILKOVA, a dead-ringer for HOPE DAVIS if there ever was one), he carves her a baby boy from a gnarled tree root. Bozena is instantly smitten with her psychotic-looking PINOCCHIO, which she names Otik, and begins mothering it as if it were a real child.

Director SVANKMAJER skillfully sets up the action to first seem that Bozena is so far removed from reality that she really thinks her swaddled root is a living and breathing baby. Alas, Bozena is not completely bonkers, though her later actions speak otherwise; Otik is quite the animate object with an even bigger appetite to match. Without spoiling too much, let’s just say he successfully moves from the bottle stage to solids in record time.

Providing a perfect foil to the harried parents with the killer (tree) tyke is the downstairs neighbor girl Alzbetka (KRISTINA ADAMCOVA). The parallels between Alzbetka and THE BAD SEED’s Rhoda Penmark, on the surface, are somewhat obvious: the tow-headed plats, the expressionless affect, and the precocious ingenuity needed to dispatch a pesky pedophile. What differentiates Alzbetka from Rhoda is her subtle transformation from one-note creep to full-fledged Mother Hen. When his parents abandon Oztik, Alzbetka, just short of strapping on one of those BabyBjörns that bother me so, picks up the slack and steps in as the ‘tween surrogate mother figure. As she is cleaning out her mother’s refrigerator, ADAMCOVA steals the movie out from everyone, when the third and final act becomes, more or less, her story.

Known for the animated shorts MEAT LOVE and FLORA, which both make cameos in the film, director SVANKMAJER brings his passion for food, signature animation style, and eye for disconcerting close-ups to LITTLE OTIK. Despite its lengthy run-time (2 hrs. 6 min.), the hypnotic visuals speed the movie along. The next time one of your mid-to-late thirties gal pals starts kvetching about her biological clock, sit her down and make her watch this film. Motherhood is really not for everyone, and it is not without its consequences.

*Special thanks to Reader Tara S. for bringing this gem to our attention!

[Read more →]

Effective killer kid movies are hard to come by. Their shock value has diminished severely since the days of THE BAD SEED and truth be told, few movies are willing to take the sub-genre to the extremes needed to be successful. One false move by the director and you’re looking at a campy joke. One false line reading by a kid actor and you’ve permanently lost your audience. 2008’s THE CHILDREN (not to be confused with the unintentionally hilarious shocker from 1980) is a film by director TOM SHANKLAND that routinely impresses by not shying away from the disturbing nature of its subject matter.

Taking place over a snowy Christmas holiday two families meet for seasonal festivities. Tension is patiently doled out as we slowly find that the children of these families are beginning to act more and more feral due to an unnamed virus. The madness that blankets the children is of the cold and icy variety and the film highlights this visually with its grey bleakness. As we progress the general static atmosphere becomes more and more frequently punctured by migraine inducing blasts of vivid imagery, harsh primary colors and shrill sound. In some instances these frenzied collisions of tone are annoying as hell, but they also provide a pitch perfect arena that could believably incubate domestic insanity.

There is a balancing act evident throughout the film’s running time of which director SHANKLAND is dutifully aware. Most of us would like to believe if we were confronted by a homicidal child we could more than hold our own, but in THE CHILDREN confusion and chaos reign supreme. The adult victims are slow to the realization that their beloved offspring have gone batty and even upon realization, struggle to accept that they will have to use violence themselves in order to survive. A great deal of the film’s success in building a believable groundwork for its action that is derived by keeping both the audience and the film’s characters partially in the dark. As things escalate the parents’ natural instinct to scapegoat rather than implicate their own children muddy the waters even further. Refreshingly, we are also presented with a teenage character who seems to be the sole heir to clarity when the dominoes begin to fall.

There is something about killer kid movies that will always strike the funny bone. Watching perfect little angels behaving badly is innately amusing. THE CHILDREN is smart enough to follow the lead of WHO CAN KILL A CHILD? by demanding that the audience think hard about when violence is necessary and allowing them to appreciate the parents’ dilemma rather than dwell on heroics. The end result may not scare the crap out of you, but be prepared for plenty of creeps due to some severely haunting images and a couple of flinches thanks to some convincing gore. If nothing else, if you have ever wondered what it would be like if somebody made a killer kid flick and not only took its subject matter seriously, but didn’t back down in fear of stepping on sensitive toes, you now have your answer.

[Read more →]

Before we start talking about the movie THE UNBORN I have to tell you guys about the crazy day I’ve had. Can you believe that I ran over a four-year-old child in my car?

Oh, don’t worry. He seemed O.K. when I left him. In fact, all I gotta say on the subject is what a weird kid!

Now, do you feel that perhaps my attitude about what I’ve done seems a bit I don’t know… casual? Well don’t worry, I DID NOT run over a kid in my car but in the movie THE UNBORN a character literally tells her friend what I just told you and her friend’s response is to basically shoo her away and change the subject back to herself. Herself being Casey Beldon (ODETTE YUSTMAN), who just won’t stop bellyaching about some ghostly unborn sibling who keeps tormenting her. Hey Casey, if you think unborn siblings are a pain in the ass, try dealing with ones that lived!

Being inherently self obsessed and devoutly whiney myself, I hate to throw stones but Casey’s reaction to her gal pal’s admission to a hit in run incident involving a child is pretty much par for the course in THE UNBORN. Vivid hallucinations of head twisting ghouls, potato bugs springing out of cracked eggs and tentacles sprouting out of glory holes in a women’s rest room (!?!) illicit similar reactions. Sure she screams with the best of them, but the constant constipated expression on her face in the aftermath would be a more appropriate reaction for somebody who has misplaced her cell phone.

I tried to have an open mind and give THE UNBORN a fair shake. I swear to God I did, even though I knew going in that this would probably be one of those post-RING killer kid flicks where everybody’s C.G.I. jaw expands like taffy and the camera shakes a lot to represent action. While we are on the subject, PLEASE STOP MAKING BLUE TONED MOVIES! I feel like I’m flipping through a fashion magazine at the dentist’s office rather than watching a film. I once had an art teacher say to me, “If everything is important, nothing is important” and I think that applies to films like THE UNBORN that bludgeon you with their visual style. (Entire UNDERWORLD series you might want to jot this down.) It looks great, I’m a sucker for a glossy well photographed flick but when there is zero contrast throughout, it ends up looking like a subway car speeding by that you just can’t focus on.

I would have loved a well done exorcism movie my friends but I just can’t get behind a movie that stubbornly refuses to touch ground with anything resembling life on this planet. I think SPEED RACER had more of a natural sense of the human condition than I found here. Furthermore, how can I ever forgive a movie that makes GARY OLDMAN look like RODDY McDOWALL? To be nice, THE UNBORN does have a few cool, surreal moments, …well, actually no, I take that back. I think that the winter backdrop looked nice…um…yeah, the snow was pretty. Well, I’m sorry THE UNBORN ya kinda suck, but I will throw ya this bone…that glory hole monster was like the second most disgusting thing that I have ever seen in a public restroom, so big props there!

[Read more →]

Maybe your Unkle Lancifer is naive but my reasoning behind making my personal ordeal public is the idea that perhaps by doing so I can allow the healing to begin and maybe just maybe, save somebody from making the same mistakes I have…

Last night I invited the movie EDEN LAKE over to spend some time with me. I had heard some great things about it and had seen it on a couple of best of 2008 horror lists, so I guess I was intrigued. Originally I wasn’t attracted to it at all. I wasn’t thrilled with the box art it wore and let’s face it, I’ve been around the block a couple times; I doubted it had anything new to offer me. At some point I heard it was about killer kids and I must have just convinced myself that my interest was professional and that our meeting would benefit Kindertrauma in some way. All right I’ll be honest, in the back of my mind I guess I did want to be scared a little too. It’s been so long since a movie really got to me, you know? Maybe EDEN LAKE could make me feel the way I used to, when I was young and the world was full of horrifying possibilities…

EDEN LAKE slipped into the DVD player at about eleven. I sorta made it watch the TOP CHEF finale with me first (Carla, NO!!!!). I had been drinking some beer, but I swear I was not drunk and from what I could tell neither was EDEN LAKE. Everything was fine for a while. Sure it was a bit uncomfortable and I did feel like I had heard everything EDEN LAKE was saying to me a million times before. Still I wasn’t going to throw in the towel, a lot people really seemed to like EDEN LAKE, and a movie with that many friends can’t be all bad right? I mean, at least that was what I was thinking.

Aunt John went to bed around eleven thirty which was fine by me. I don’t need a chaperone and I could tell Auntie wasn’t too keen on the way things were moving forward anyway. He wasn’t too supportive about my relationship with WOLF CREEK either and that worked out fine, so more room on the couch for me! Now that we were alone I was hanging on EDEN CREEK’s every word. The closer I looked the more it became evident that EDEN really might deserve its reputation.

Then EDEN LAKE hauled off and punched me square in the face…

Before I could even react, EDEN LAKE punched me yet again. When I stood up to demand that it get out of my DVD player it boxed my ears and kneed me in the groin. I fell into the coffee table knocking over a bowel of Gummie Life Savers. I remember staring at their bright colors and noticing how they clashed against the carpet. EDEN LAKE began to kick me over and over again in the stomach, my pleas for mercy met with mocking laughter. At one point I remember EDEN offering me a hand, as if it were all just a misunderstanding and that it really did want to be my friend, but the pathetic smile I mustered at this idea was quickly erased by a brass lamp crashing down upon my head. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Sure my blind date with IRREVERSIBLE didn’t exactly go as planned either, but I chalked that one up to being my fault for ignoring the signs. I trusted EDEN LAKE to be a gentleman; I mean it’s British for chrissake!

Maybe I’ve got a bit of that Stockholm syndrome because even though I got my ass handed to me, I can’t let go of the fact that EDEN LAKE, vicious as it may be, really is a good film. I know it’s manipulative as hell, but it looks really good and it takes its job seriously. I’m still aching though and trying to see through a fog of hopelessness. Did I get what I asked for? I wanted to be horrified but I guess I forgot what that really meant. Now I’m left picking up the pieces. How can I explain any of this to anyone who has not experienced it?

If you’re reading this EDEN LAKE, I want you to know that you are a very good movie, but make no mistake I never want to see you again!!! Also, I think you may have accidently taken my will to live with you in your haste to leave the crime scene. Do you think you could just slip it through the mail slot the next time you are in the area? I’m gonna need that back.

[Read more →]

Hey look at the date, it’s Friday the 13th!!! What a great day to make Jason Voorhees, Camp Crystal Lake’s resident bad boy an Official Traumatizer! There is not much I can say about Jason that hasn’t been said elsewhere, but what I can do is tell you about my own first experience with the film FRIDAY THE 13TH and my original introduction to the little mongoloid boy named Jason Voorhees.

Little Unkle Lancifer was too young to go see the first FRIDAY THE 13th in the movie theater, but thanks to FAMOUS MONSTERS magazine I was well aware of its existence. (Although to be accurate, I was at least partially confusing it with another film, 1979’s THE ORPHAN). My eldest brother, who I imagined at the time had the most fulfilling existence imaginable, WAS old enough to check out this intriguing and mysterious movie which he did as far as I recall, as soon humanly possible.

Now, unlike myself, my older brother is not a light touch when it comes to horror. In fact, it was a badge of honor for him to return from a film and declare himself unfazed and unimpressed by what he had seen on the screen. His attraction to the genre appeared to me to be more as if he were accepting some unsaid dare. He was out to prove that he could withstand anything presented to him and I was sure at the end of the day he would much rather be watching BRUCE LEE.

My usually too cool for school older brother returned from FRIDAY THE 13th in a state in which I had never seen him. He was flushed, he was amped and he was absolutely beside himself. It was if he had just witnessed a train crash and was still working through the adrenaline that was coursing through his body. He was literally stunned and therefore I was too, stunned that there was something so scary that it could leave my roughneck, ninja-star throwing sibling in such a state.

Eventually I grew up to be the kind of film spaz that will go ballistic if a movie is ruined for me even slightly. I’m the jerk that won’t enter a theater if I think I’ve missed 30 seconds of the opening and I am known to drive normal people insane with my excessive use of “pause” and “rewind” at home. At this young age though, for all I knew, my only chance to experience FRIDAY THE 13th would be vicariously through my brother so I demanded he tell me everything he could remember of what he had witnessed.

Uncharacteristically, my brother fulfilled my request and regaled every detail from the opening jeep murder to the closing credits. I was mesmerized from start to finish as images both titillating and horrifying passed through my young head. Some might describe FRIDAY’s plot as slight or even non-existent but, due to my own verbal introduction to the happenings of Crystal Lake, to me it will always skew closer to one of the greatest campfire stories/legends ever told. At this point in my life (and maybe it’s due to the fact that I was ruefully born with only one foot in reality) I took the events told to me as gospel. When he eventually described little Jason’s final exodus from the murky bottom of the lake my jaw hit the shag carpet.

Not very much later a VCR appeared in our living room. Our family was one of the first in our neighborhood to be graced with one (don’t feel too bad for those other kids on the block, they all had that amazing invention called “cable” which we could only dream of). Wow. The idea of watching a WHOLE movie in your home whenever you wanted… what a luxury! Not surprisingly, one of the first tapes I had to get my grubby hands on was FRIDAY THE 13TH; now I could finally see what all of the hubbub was about and watch the vaporous story in my head transform into something permanent and concrete on the television screen.

I am happy to say that I was not even remotely disappointed. I could not believe I was getting a chance to eavesdrop and spy on this incredible universe full of denim cut-offs, strip Monopoly and bloody decapitations. If this was what being older was going to be like, sign me up I thought. I’m sure actually being systematically butchered by an unseen presence probably bites the big one in real life, but to me, at the time, it seemed like a great way to spend a Friday night. As LYNN REDGRAVE used to say, “This is Living!”

Having already heard the entire story from my brother you would think that I would be completely prepared for the film’s shocker ending, but poor dense me was still taken off guard. I knew Jason was at some point going to rise from the lake, but I had foolishly thought that there would be some kind of build up to such a thing. As Alice (ADRIENNE KING) put her hand into the reflecting water of Crystal Lake, I was pretty sure young Jason was a few scenes away and I instinctively assumed that a JAWS like score would warn me of that danger approaching. No such luck, as Jason jumped out of the lake I jumped out off the couch. I simply had no defense in regards to FRIDAY THE 13TH and I loved the freefall feeling it injected me with, like being on a sled and knowing the ride wasn’t over until the sled said it was over.

No matter how securely the original FRIDAY embeds itself within our culture (Let’s face it folks, it’s here to stay), for some reason, it has always been able to squirm its way out of receiving all the respect that it rightfully deserves. The critical among us can fault the direction, but the reality is that FRIDAY accomplishes everything it sets out to do and then some. One could fault it for being derivative or slap-shot, but dozens of films have tried to duplicate its sense of place and atmosphere and failed miserably. You can even gripe that there is little in the way of characterization, but personally I don’t need to know that much about a person to assume that they don’t deserve (or appreciate) an axe splitting their skull in two. You can pile up all the knee jerk dismissals you like, but there is a reason why so many return to this movie again and again throughout their lives.

Jason works and Jason has always worked. Those of us who were introduced to him in our youth eventually do master some control over our fear of him, but we’re still his bitches all the same. Like many slasher films, FRIDAY is, at its heart, a campfire story and campfire stories not only do not require the fundamental elements that create great literature to work, but actually are hobbled by such useless chaff. It is meant to scare you, to leave you feeling unsafe, to make you think twice about that twig that just snapped. It’s meant to cast a spell over you that alters your perception to the point that the world around you suddenly seems unfamiliar and fraught with potential danger. It’s meant to be fun, a giddy first dance with death; a way to take the anxieties associated with the approaching seductive freedoms of adulthood and milk them for all they are worth. I’m glad that my first FRIDAY THE 13TH movie actually took place in my own head thanks to my older brother’s surprisingly good storytelling skills, but let’s face it, my brother had some excellent material to work with; Jason Voorhees is a potent legend and a born Traumatizer.

WANT MORE JASON?

• Traumafessions :: Reader Stutz on FRIDAY THE 13TH
• Traumafessions :: Reader Erczilla on FRIDAY THE 13TH
• Traumafessions :: Reader Robert on FRIDAY THE 13TH
• Traumafessions :: Reader Ricky on FRIDAY THE 13TH
• Kinder-News :: The Truth Behind Chris Higgins’ Blackout!
• The Awesome FRIDAY THE 13TH art of JIM HORWAT
• Trauma-Mommas :: The 10 Most Horrifying Movie Moms
• The Horror Movie Bar Crawl Featuring FRIDAY THE 13TH PART II
• The Kids of Crystal Lake

[Read more →]

I can’t lie to you kids. The first two stories in this DAN CURTIS-directed, RICHARD MATHESON-scripted horror anthology/potential series pilot are in my opinion, not so hot. They are well cast and serviceable enough, but your usually game Unkle found himself looking down at his non-existent watch on more occasions than he would prefer. The first tale involves a young ED BEGLEY, JR. traveling through time in an antique car (’nuff said) and the second involves PATRICK MACNEE (yikes! Count Iblis from the original BATTLESTAR GALACTIA!) and ANJANETTE COMER (from Kinder-fave THE BABY) in a rather routine vampire tale. Third times a charm though, because the last story entitled “Bobby” delivers more creeps than an OSMOND family obstetrician.

In “Bobby,” JOAN HACKET (HOW AWFUL ABOUT ALLAN) is a grieving mother who is having trouble dealing with the recent drowning death of her young son (BURNT OFFERINGS’ chimney pancake LEE MONTGOMERY). Rather than going the Mrs. Voorhees route and hacking up individuals who are not even remotely responsible for the tragedy, JOAN decides to attack the problem at its source and reanimate her drowned kid via black magic. Take it from me, black magic can and will fix all of your problems BUT there is always some kind of tricky catch! Dealing with Satan is a lot like dealing with Colombia House.

You don’t have to be familiar with THE MONKEY’S PAW or even PET SEMATARY to know that Mom is in for a rude awakening when a soaked Bobby does indeed show up on her doorstep. Her gradual realization that Bobby is not quite as she remembers is akin to getting excited to watch LAVERNE & SHIRLEY and then realizing it is a “California” episode. CURTIS, who staged a parallel two character showdown in TRILOGY OF TERROR, knows which screws to tighten and when and the final moments in “Bobby” brand a similar lasting mental scar. My favorite bit involves a mocking, paranoia inspiring phone call from the never seen Dad. It’s a classic moment of all-consuming dread that really gets under your skin. As mediocre as DEAD OF NIGHT begins, this last tale more than makes up for it. “Bobby” is not only classic DAN CURTIS, it’s some serious classic Kindertrauma as well.

[Read more →]

There is a nice list on this website featuring little kids who are killers and they are all great examples. There is another killer kid that should be mentioned; Melissa Graps (VALERIA VALERI) from MARIO BAVA’s KILL BABY KILL. Melissa was the daughter of some local hated Baroness and was accidentally killed by a bull during a town festival. The locals were too busy getting plastered and they didn’t like the kid, so they ignored her, even when she rang a church bell for help and so she eventually bled to death. Momma Baroness, who happened to be a medium, decided to get revenge on the town by summoning up her dead 7-year-old and having her kill the locals.

The first time Melissa would appear to her victims she would only creep them out. The second time she appeared to them she would force them to kill themselves! She would show up with a mischievous giggle that was years ahead of DR. GIGGLES and there would be P.O.V. shots of her swinging on a swing in the dead of night. One victim, the town inn keeper’s daughter, was taunted by the ghost child when Melissa put her hands on her window, placed her face up to it and simply stared at the poor kid!

Of course the teenager knew that she was Melissa’s next target so her parents enlisted the help of a local witch who, among other things, flogs the kid with thorny bushes! She also makes the kid wear a ring of barbed wire around her torso to ward off Melissa. The doctor who was sent to town to investigate the suicides finds this out and thinks it’s crazy. He removes the barbed wire from the girl and assumes that it is all superstition and that the girl will be alright. WRONG!!! The next night the girl is woken from her sleep and she sees Melissa by the window again. Melissa puts the girl in a trance and she forces her to impale herself with a piece of metal that’s sticking out of a wall mounted candle holder. There is another scene where the doctor goes to the Baroness’s castle and he runs into the ghost who announces her presence by throwing a bouncing ball down the hallway.

Melissa then tells the doctor her name and runs off giggling down a spiral staircase. The kid has this sadistic look in her eyes. This is seen when she shows up in the closet of the town burgermiester as he’s about to give the doctor’s new found assistant, a local med student played by ERIKA BLANC of THE DEVIL’S NIGHTMARE fame, a birth certificate showing her who her true parents were (ERIKA is apparently tied in to the killer kid’s history).

O.K., I don’t want to give much more away, but near the end the doctor and ERIKA go to the Baroness’s place and she takes him to Melissa’s bedroom which is full of dolls. Well guess who is sitting on the floor with the dolls!

(That repeating room sequence HAD to have inspired DAVID LYNCH when he did that Red Room sequence in the last episode of TWIN PEAKS!)

Creepy kid eh? So there she is. Melissa Graps, creepy killer child who could fit in with all the other Kindertrauma kids who kill!

[Read more →]

One of the very first horror movies that I ever caught on VHS was 1980’s THE BOOGEY MAN directed by ULLI LOMMEL. It’s box art and title had me assuming I would be viewing something along the same lines as HALLOWEEN. Boy, was I in for a surprise. Sure the opening scenes visually crib from JOHN CARPENTER’s classic and the title is an obvious cash-in, but that’s where the similarities end. If you’re looking for subtle nuance or even a vague feigning of good taste just let THE BOOGEY MAN, as Dionne Warwick sang, “Walk on by.” This movie though, as rough around the edges, derivative and generic as it sometimes is, just can’t help being strangely disturbing in it’s own way. The opening kill alone should be in the kindertrauma hall of fame.

Let’s face it, HALLOWEEN’s Judith Myers had a pretty good life up until her brother snuffed it out. Not so with THE BOOGEY MAN’s young brother and sister team Lacey and Willy (NATASHA SCHIANO and JAY WRIGHT) who, when we open the picture, live in the kind of f-ed up environment that wouldn’t befall Judith Myers until ROB ZOMBIE got a hold of her years later. When we first meet these wide-eyed siblings they are spying on their drunken wreck of a mother as she seduces a butch bruiser in the family living room. We never see the guy’s face clearly because soon mom’s kinky pantyhose fetish comes to light and he is wearing said hose on his face.

Help me out here ladies, pantyhose on a man’s face: sexy or time to run for your life? (If you have to think about it you’ve come to the right site). Anyway, this guy scared the living crap out of me back in the day. I mean, props to mom for getting her groove on but this ain’t the type you want hanging around your kids! That obvious fact is made even clearer when the kids are caught spying and, under the approving eye of drunk mommy, the little boy is tied up and gagged to a bed and then slapped for good measure. Luckily sis in her candy cane stripped pajamas knows exactly where the family keeps the butcher knife so she cuts loose her bro. Once free lil’ Willy, as boys will often do, decides it’s high time to stab pantyhose face in the spine as he bumps ugglies with trashy ma in that oddest of make-out joints the bedroom.

What else do you need to know about this movie? 20 years later the kids are grown (and f-d) up and played by real life brother sister team SUZANNA and NICHOLAS LOVE (Suzanne was LUMMEL’s BARBEAU at the time.) They are desperately trying to get over their serious DR. PHIL baggage but Willy is so damn shell shocked he’s gone mute. Sis Lacey makes the brilliant decision to revisit her past in order to heal (don’t try this at home folks!) but ends up freeing the dead dude from a mirror he’s been hanging out in so that he can brutally demolish everybody she comes into contact with.

THE BOOGEY MAN is a cheap, synth scored, runaway train but there are so many ideas (both original AND stolen) bouncing around that you kind of just have to sit back in awe. There are plenty of amazing deaths (the kissing double murder by a knife through two open mouths is inspired) but if gore ain’t your bag you’ll be happy to know that people are routinely speaking in demonic voices, shooting light beams out of their eyeballs and hovering above the ground too. I’m telling you, this supernatural slash-a-thon knows know bounds! In fact, the creepy windows from THE AMITYVILLE HORROR even stop by for a spell (pretty amazing when you consider those windows totally snubbed THE AMITYVILLE CURSE!) THE BOOGEY MAN is strewn with some choppy editing and technical problems galore but its willingness to be as deranged as it wants to be (scary pantyhose face included) leaves a lasting impression.

P.S. O.K I admit it, I did rewind over and over again the part where the brat gets a window (the non-AMITYVILLE type) smashed down on his head. Does that make me a bad person? Aw, who asked ya!

[Read more →]

Hey here’s a movie that disturbed me as a child and I have not been able to figure out what movie it was. Not even Joe Bob Briggs could figure this one out, people working in underground movie shops just shrug. The movie was made in the ‘80s and it’s about two girls around the age of 8 who live on a beach. One is brunette and the other is blond, I think their mom is single and she hooks up with some guy who is their next-door neighbor. The guy gives the blond girl a camera for her birthday and the two girls go around taking pictures of everything. They sneak in on their neighbor having an affair with another woman and conspire to black mail him writing him threatening letters with photographic evidence. The adults freak out and everything, lots of drama.

But the part that freaked me out was the ending, the blond girl gets a hold of a revolver and shoots the guy to death at the end on the beach! Like I’m talking big bloody squibs, and the really awful part is the girl turns the gun on her brunette haired friend, the movie ends with a crying small girl running into the water with blood squibs bursting on her back! I use to watch every horror movie imaginable when I was young and was never bothered by any of them but this movie always filled me with a feeling of dread. It never occurred to me that kids could die violently before I saw that and I remember being seriously disturbed after the first viewing.

I saw this movie like more than once when I was a child because my sister kept renting it but she can’t even remember the title now. This was back in 1988 when I last saw it and I was in kindergarten. I think I eventually end up asking anyone I talk movies with about this movie, no one has seen it, plot summary search on IMDB brings up nothing. Really hard to find any info on it. I think it might have had the word SWEET or BABY or DARLING in the title.

UNK SEZ: Dear Charles, you made my day because I know exactly the movie you are talking about is! It’s from 1989, stars JOHN HURT and is entitled LITTLE SWEETHEART. In fact, that movie is actually based on a novel by ARTHUR WISE called NAUGHTY GIRLS which I read In my youth. Strangely enough, that book had such an impact on me that not only did we post the cover in the early days of Kindertrauma HERE but we also use a bastardized verson of its artwork as the kindertrauma Myspace avatar! I’ve never actually seen the film as I did not even know of its existence until recently but, considering the impression it left upon you, I’ll be tracking it down soon! You can check out the trailer HERE.

[Read more →]

Look at that damned calendar! The year is over!! What the heck?! Remember good ol’ last year when we were able to do an overview of all the creepy kids that appeared in horror films over the year? Sure you do, it’s HERE. Well, what in the name of Rhoda Penmark are we supposed to do this year? Sure, kids appeared on the sidelines in movies like MIRRORS, but their presence seemed only required so that they could mutter faux-creepy slogans for use as gotcha moments in the movie’s trailers. THE ORPHANAGE ruled for sure, but one movie does not an end of year overview make and technically it was made in 2007.

If you’re anything like the frightening voices that torment me nonstop in my head, you’re probably screaming in a twisted hag voice “Unkle Lancifer, you need to get out more!” Yes, countless hours were wasted this year playing Lego Playstation games, I’ll grant you that, but remember I live in Bumblef*ck where the only films on the theater marquee are ROCHELLE, ROCHELLE and THE FLOWER THAT DRANK THE MOON. Adding insult to unjustifiable rationalization, TRICK R’ TREAT is still sadly M.I.A. and the U.K. flick THE CHILDREN is yet (to my knowledge) to jump across the pond.

What was I to do? How was I to make any kind of statement about kids in horror in 2008? I think there was a kid in that French movie FRONTIERS, I assume there was a zombie tyke in QUARANTINE, and didn’t some kids try to warn people to stay clear of THE RUINS? A spiraling spurious non-list began to form in my mind’s eye. Who was I kidding? Then, there I was at my wits end and fantasizing about fashioning a noose from NERDS ROPE when I received a message from a carrier vulture named Saint Antonio Sanchez informing me that maybe perhaps I should check out LET THE RIGHT ONE IN…

LET THE RIGHT ONE IN makes up for everything, and it saved my year. I’m not just saying this because I was on the precipice of the abyss when we met; I mean it. Even outside the realm of horror it may be the best movie of the year, it certainly and without question is the Kindertraumiest. Aunt John has no say in this matter whatsoever; I’m prepared to skip camp if rebuffed. I, with the power of Grayskull and inspired by this unique film, have decreed that a new award must be forged for future years and that award is the KINDERTRAUMA MOVIE OF THE YEAR! That’s right, it’s official, LET THE RIGHT ONE IN is KINDERTRAUMA MOVIE OF THE YEAR! We must all listen to MORRISSEY (to whom it owes its title) today in celebration.

What is so special about this movie and what can I tell you about it without ruining it? First of all, I’d just like to say this movie does not spaz out and get all up in your face. That is very important to me. It’s calm and peaceful yet stand warned, it’s not afraid to smack you around a little when you start feeling too secure and cozy. It’s about actual human connection, how we change the people who come into our lives and how they change us. More importantly, it shows how outsiders can identify themselves in each other and gather strength from their alliance. (Call me nuts but REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE and THE LITTLE GIRL WHO LIVES DOWN THE LANE sprung to my mind not to mention E.T. with a taste for blood). To top it all off there is mucho snow (my cinematic Achilles heal) and the whole thing is filmed as simply and as exquisitely as humanly possible.

It is a “horror” movie for sure, but I have to point out that it reflects the actual universe that we live in far more accurately than most non-horror films (Certainly more than all the superhero, wedding disaster and dopey buddy flicks released this year combined). This is the real deal folks. The main characters may be twelve (even twelve for a looooong time) but their ability to bond without judgment and care for each other is something you rarely get to see in films that feature characters of any age.

Less you think I’m reviewing SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING COFFIN, I should inform you that many people die undeserving deaths within this film and at the hands of these spiritual and soulful characters. Well, what can I tell you? You got to break eggs before you devil them and I’m so enamored with these kooky kids that if that’s what keeps ‘em writing love notes and teaching each other the Rubik’s Cube, so be it. (By the way, apparently there is no moral question in my mind concerning the film’s final poolside massacre as I laughed whole heartily and gleefully all through it, I may have even clapped).

I really don’t want to say much more as I don’t want to spoil anything, but GO see this movie! If it’s not playing around you yet go buy the book it’s based on by JOHN AJIDE LINDQVIST instead (I’m devouring it now). This is the type of horror tale that comes around far too rarely and, like a long lost soul mate, it lifts the genre up to a whole new level.

P.S. Many films have attempted the proverbial “attacked by cats” scene with questionable to borderline comical results. This is due to the rookie mistake of actually throwing live cats onto people in order to simulate the melee. Not so in LET THE RIGHT ONE IN, I’m so happy now that somebody has finally done it right!

[Read more →]

I kind of enjoy this quiet brooder that many seem to despise. I can’t disagree that it’s far too familiar and that nobody needs another “Where’s My Kid At?/ Not Without My Undead Daughter!” flick. Maybe I’m just a sucker for its Isle of Mann pretending to be a Welsh seaside location. Then again I’ve always had a thing for hometown heroine MARIA BELLO who, if she donned a fake mustache, I’d marry tomorrow (sorry A.J.!) I admit that THE DARK may not reinvent the wheel-o, but the cinematography is borderline gorgeous and even though it has maybe five too many endings, it’s got a passionate core that’s enviable.

BELLO plays Adelle, an emotionally distant mother who carts her young daughter Sarah (SOPHIE STUCKEY) off to the isolated shabby chic home of her estranged ex (SEAN BEAN). Nightmares of losing her daughter become prophetic as the little girl ends up being whisked away by the crashing sea. In actuality, she is trapped in a mythical Welsh underworld known as “Annwn.” Soon after a girl similar in age as the missing daughter appears and it becomes evident that a trade of some sort has been made. Unfortunately, folks who return from Annwyn are worse for the wear and tend to have a highly toxic effect on livestock and a general schleprockian disposition.

Following the requisite searching of the local library’s microfilm collection, Adelle decides the only way to get back her real daughter is to force a trade back by chucking the new kid off a cliff. (Personally I would have kept the depressing Wednesday Addams chick and let my iPod wearing mouthy brat to her new home.)

I doubt THE DARK could rock anybody’s world, but it’s a perfect time-waster on a winter night. I rather enjoyed learning about the refreshingly low key limbo like dimension “Annwyn” to boot. The whole affair is more spooky than scary, but MAURICE ROEVES is perfect as the salt of the Earth handyman Dafydd and flash back scenes of homemade lobotomies are actually kind of cringe worthy. Extra kudos are earned by showcasing a suicide cult learning the hard way that the first step off a cliff is a real doozy.

More than anything though, this movie has the world’s most profound, yet borderline hilarious pie-in-the-face door slamming scene I think I have ever witnessed, That’s gotta count for something!

[Read more →]

This telekinetic killer munchkin flick is not like anything you’ve ever witnessed. You know your old Unk not only has a high tolerance for lameness, but also a masochistic sweet tooth for it, right? Well, I may have finally met my match. Here is a movie that had me waxing nostalgic for the brilliant acting in CATHY’S CURSE and the technical achievement of THE CHILDREN. Watching KISS DADDY GOODBYE is sort of like watching your clothes twirl around in a drying machine while overdosing on Quaaludes. It’s not so much a movie as a celluloid incantation infused with the power to make time stop.

After watching their father get lazily murdered by vaguely interested motorcyclists, lethargic psychic-wonder twins Beth and Michael reanimate their pop’s corpse. Revenge for his ghastly murder is put on hold, as zombie Dad’s primary function seems to be as an unpaid servant/chauffeur. (If your idea of horror is watching blank faced children eating yogurt and building sand castles look no further). Social worker MARILYN BURNS (THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE) and police officer FABIAN FORTE are at risk of discovering the truth about the tykes if they ever leave the one-desk police station set they seem perpetually trapped in.

As dopey as the general plot is, it’s the film’s delivery that will hold you spellbound. Everyone seems hypnotized and perhaps discretely zapped with unseen cow prods when required to speak. The only word I can think of to describe the two children’s performances is “narcoleptic.” To tell you the truth, I’m not the type to require that a film have even passable acting in it. I’ve done without many times before and I’m fine, who am I LEE STRASBERG? Yet, I would prefer that actors are at least of the caliber to deliver a line without trailing off, getting glassy eyed or becoming visibly bored.

At some point the director must have gotten as exasperated as myself and decided to coin the term “think-speak.” This is when the kids stop talking all together and begin to communicate by awkward silences and barely focused half stares. It doesn’t really solve the problem but it does, at least, present a much-needed break from it. MARILYN and FABIAN do not fare much better, which is a shame because those two are sort of my dream cast. I have a feeling that just being in the general vicinity of the children made them drowsy. The two are sort of forced to walk in circles throughout and spend a great deal of time waiting for MARILYN’s car to get fixed.

Frequently shown on ELVIRA’S MOVIE MACABRE, this is one movie that benefited richly from colorful inserts filled with bad puns and big boobs. Even without ELVIRA’s help, though, there is something so backwards and misguided here that you’re sure not to ever forget the experience. Mind numbing drudgery aside, there is probably no way a person could get through a viewing without laughing out loud at least once. Maybe laughter was not the response the filmmakers intended but it sure beats a yawn.

[Read more →]

Life just served young Mark Evans (preternaturally saucer-eyed ELIJAH WOOD) a steaming shit sandwich with a heaping side of SUCK! After his mom succumbs to cancer, Mark’s tall drink of Philly tap water father (DAVID MORSE) jets off to Japan on business and dumps him off at his uncle’s house in scenic Maine. Unfortunately for Mark, his temporary housing situation involves living under the same roof with his mildly depressed aunt Susan (WENDY CREWSON), she’s grieving/ blaming herself for the loss of a toddler son who mysteriously drowned in the bathtub, and his psychotic cousin Henry (America’s then box-office golden child playing against type, or was he?, MACAULEY  CULKIN). At first, relations between the boys are pretty cool, and Henry includes Mark in his favorite pastimes of taunting the neighbor’s dog and dropping a dummy off a highway overpass. Henry’s sinister behavior escalates, and Mark tries to warn any and everyone that will listen that Henry is a full-blown whack-a-doodle. Of course no one believes Mark’s wild accusations, and he ends up being sent off to therapy. Aunt Susan finally manages to put two and two together when she stumbles across her late son’s rubber duckie in Henry’s woodshed workshop. Without spoiling the action, the ending is a real cliffhanger (literally), and Aunt Susan is forced to make a cinematic choice normally reserved for the likes of MERYL STREEP.

On the surface, THE GOOD SON has all the elements of a camp classic. CULKIN takes a page from the PATTY McCORMACK/Rhoda Penmark playbook and knows how to turn on and off the crazy at the drop of a stuffed dummy onto a crowded expressway. The lack of actual kills by CULKIN though, is what keeps THE GOOD SON from being an actual contender in the killer kid genre. Sure, he tries to ice his sister, but she lives. He tries to shove his mom off a cliff, yet fails. He doesn’t even manage to take out a single motorist with the appropriately named effigy Mr. Highway! Yeah, he cops to drowning his unseen younger brother in the bath, but we never even get a flashback! If you’re going to base a whole movie around a pint-sized psycho, you really need to give him or her a measurable body count.

• Henry causes an interstate pile-up with the help of his pal Mr. Highway
• Crack-the-whip with little sis results in a scene that was sadly overlooked on our ICE SAFETY LIST . Doesn’t anyone ever listen to WALKEN?
• Mark freaks out when he thinks Henry has poisoned the family’s food and goes apeshit on the refrigerator
• Lil’ Mac drops the F-bomb

[Read more →]