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Entries from August 2010

Name That Trauma :: Reader Amber H. on a Wintry Earwig

August 31st, 2010 · 2 Comments

Well, I think I was about 7 or 8 and I was watching a Saturday afternoon movie (this would have been ’87 or ’88) and there was a movie about some kind of big, white worm that was crawling around a house… it would crawl into the people’s ears and take over their bodies somehow.

Seems like they were stuck there- because they were snowed in or something?

I just remember seeing the lady sitting in front of a fire, and watching that worm “sneaking” up on her…. totally FREAKED me out, but to this day I can’t remember anything else about the movie or who was in it.

On a side note, it reminds me of the STAR TREK movie where the bad guys put the little creatures in the good guys ears and it made them their slaves…..


Can’t stand it any more!


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Tags: Name That Trauma!

No Place Like Horror Part Two :: Horror’s Most Undesirable Living Spaces

August 30th, 2010 · 14 Comments

Remember back in the good old days of two weeks ago when Christine Hadden of FASCINATION WITH FEAR and I each shared our ten favorite horror homesteads? Well, it happened whether you remember it or not. We had so much fun that we decided to go on a second tour but this time we’re visiting our ten LEAST favorite horror dumps! Check out my ten most unwanted properties below and do make sure to travel over HERE to check out Christine’s least favorite picks!

Don’t get me wrong, Dr. So and So has exquisite taste in art and I love how clean and modern everything is but the spiral staircase is a real deal breaker. Personally I like to put a bandanna (or three) around my human centipede’s neck and take it to the park to play Frisbee every afternoon. Spiral staircases are stellar for averting unwanted escapes but in general they tend to be difficult to maneuver time wasters.

Ever since I was a kid I’ve found Chuck’s living arrangement leaving much to be desired. Poverty doesn’t have to be grim (think Edith the egg lady’s trailer in PINK FLAMINGOS) but this pad blows. I’m thinking if you ever find yourself coming home to find four senior citizens sleeping in the same bed it’s time to start packing.

8. TIDELAND (2005)
I wouldn’t say no to sharing a living space with JEFF BRIDGES. That said, I’d like to specify that I’d prefer it to be the living JEFF BRIDGES and not his rotting corpse in a white wig. See, contrary to word on the street, I really do have standards.

7. THE COTTAGE (2008)
I had mixed feelings about this movie but a very definite reaction to the crazy killer’s yellow kitchen. Quite simply it horrified the crap out of me. Not that I can verify it in anyway but I’m sure that I once read that more murders were committed in yellow kitchens than kitchens of any other color. For some reason the assumed happy hue just irritates the hell out of people and that is why you will never see a yellow hospital. Naturally the kindertrauma kitchen is pink, a color known only for making people hungry for Frankenberry Cereal, Strawberry Quick and TINY TIM tuneage!

6. EATEN ALIVE (1977)
The Louisiana hotel in EATEN ALIVE is nice enough but let’s be real here, there are way too many crocodiles in the front yard.

What the hell is so funny THWLW? Let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it’s me, I’m a little f*cked up maybe, but I’m funny how, I mean funny like I’m a clown. I amuse you? I make you laugh, I’m here to f*ckin’ amuse you?

4. 13 GHOSTS (2001)
I have as much use for a too clever for its own good clockwork puzzle-box house as I do another SAW sequel. You pull the wrong lever and suddenly the bathroom has glass walls and the door disappears. No thanks, privacy is my middle name and my last name is control.

3. HOUSE OF WAX (2005)
There’s so much wrong with this concept that I don’t even know where to begin. Call me crazy but I don’t relish the idea of having to wade through molten wax to crawl into bed every August.

This prefab pile of crapola reeks of unearned mundane vanilla privilege. I intuitively know that the thermostat is set at least twenty degrees higher than I would feel comfortable in. It makes me think of staying at a boring relative’s house and waking up early and pretending to be still asleep in order to avoid brain numbing small talk over coffee about last night’s episode of CSI: MIAMI. Demonic possession and hourly soul rape would be a welcome reprieve.

I believe the worst place ever invented is this here riverside shack in Haddonfield, Illinois. I’m not even sure this fragile lean-to stands next to a legitimate river, it looks more like a stream or a brook to me. We’ve all seen this scenario play out before, a theoretically straight guy down on his luck exploits the hospitality of an elderly amateur pirate in order to put a roof over his head. After a year of who knows what kind of illicit behavior the roustabout gets bored, puts his mask back on, clocks the parrot, kills his benefactor and then moves on to greener pastures. Give me ROB-ZOB’s driftin’ hobo Mike over HALLOWEEN 5’s poorly masked, unappreciative moocher any October 31st!

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Tags: General Horror · Horror House Hunters · Kinder-Link · Trauma-Shots

Traumafessions :: Bjarke”Eshbaal” J. of Horrible Horror on the Hell Train from Grim Fandango

August 29th, 2010 · 3 Comments

Hello once more, Unk, Aunt and fellow Traumatots – have you missed me? Since my last two entries on the Groke and Freaky Fred, I have for once NOT been pondering about what else I could think of from my childhood that freaked me out. In fact, I believed I had pretty much covered it all. That is, until a little while ago when a friend of mine, whom I have known for a very long time, told me with a tone of joy in his voice that he had gotten his hands on an old favorite PC game of ours, one we had completed I think maybe six or seven times when we were younger, and one that is probably my favorite of all Adventure games I have ever played. That game is Grim Fandango.

For those who don’t know of this awesome game, it is a LucasArts Adventure Game – yes, the same people who made the hilarious Monkey Island series. However, this time, they had the highly imaginative Tim Schaefer with them, who definitely was the one that made the game as unique as it is. Mixing Aztec concepts of the afterlife by having the underworld populated by Calaca-styled skeleton dolls with the crime noir style of detective films, this game had such an enthralling world to explore.

To tell you a little of what it’s about, in the game, it is established that when a person dies, he or she must go on a four year journey through the afterlife in order to finally get to The Ninth Underworld, the TRUE afterlife. However, some, like the main character Manny, have done so many bad things in their life that they cannot go before they’ve worked it off. Therefore, Manny, in the guise of a Grim Reaper, sells “travel packages” to the recently dead, giving them either a car to travel in if they’ve been good, or a bike… or maybe even just a walking stick and a coffee mug. However, if you have been a great person, you get a train ticket, shortening the 4-year trip to something among the lines of four hours.

However, Manny is distressed – he never seems to get a proper client, and at this pace, he’ll never work off his (to us, unknown) deeds. That is, until he finds a woman to whom he can sell a train ticket… only to discover that somehow, despite her perfect life, she seems to not be qualified for one. Someone is stealing the train tickets to the Ninth Underworld and selling them to the rich who don’t deserve them – and Manny, in his attempt to figure out the truth, sets out on his own journey to find the one responsible.

Have I mentioned this game is great? Not only is the world so vivid and imaginative, it is also darkly humorous, with many characters whose company you WILL enjoy. Manny himself is a wonderful wisecracker, and like everyone else, he is voiced perfectly. The game was composed of four discs, each of which representing one year of his journey to uncover the truth.

This game, however, also manages to be the only one outside the typical Silent Hill, Resident Evil and other survival horror games that have thoroughly freaked me right the hell out despite its usually amusing tone.

On I think maybe the third year or the beginning of the fourth of Manny’s journey, he arrives at the station and the gates to the Ninth Underworld, seeing that the people who got the tickets are simply waiting there, unable to get in thanks to the fraud. When he confronts the Gatekeeper about this, he is told there is nothing they can do, and informs the keeper that the tickets were stolen and sold to others who don’t deserve them. At that moment, the train comes, and the Aztec, in an uncaring monotone, simply remarks that now they’ll “see what they truly deserve.”

And at that moment, I was scared out of my mind.

The train does indeed arrive, and we see one quick shot of the bastard who put you through all this having a little sip of champagne… until the waving sign begins to spin, spin, spin ferociously, turning more and more red before it reveals a devil’s face and grows a devil’s whipping tail, soon pointing straight down to the abyss far above which the tracks are placed. But oh no, just having the train crash and seeing them fall to their judgment was not horrifying enough. At that very moment, the train grows spikes along what at this point can be described as its spine, and with a horrible sound of screeching metal, it’s outsides are scraped off in flames to reveal the face of a menacing, red, mechanically powered dragon – and I swear at that moment, you can still see the horrified skeletal faces of its passengers peeking out from holes in its side – before it leaps off the tracks and straight into a fiery pit.

My God, even if I knew that at some point in the game, Hector LeMans and the ones he sold the tickets to would get their punishment, I was in NO way prepared for the sudden harshness of the judgment, blocky ‘90-ies 3D graphics or not… and it is all topped off by the Aztec-looking gatekeeper sadly shaking his head like he just scolded a few unruly children.

If I remember correctly, this is also what truly sets Manny over the edge, and gets him desperate to settle things once and for all and prevent his client, Mercedes, from suffering the same horrible fate. But I may be wrong – it is so long since I’ve played it. All I truly remember are the funny sidekick Glottis, the amusing Fire Beaver scene, the giant track running cats… and THIS piece of indescribable horror.

Perhaps I’m weak, but I have yet to see or hear others speak of this scene with as much fear as me. However, I have heard MANY praise the game as one of the best ever, and I shall do the same – you owe it to yourself to play this. You will not regret it.

Just… don’t take the train to the neighboring town’s game shop. For the love of God, don’t take the train.

Bjarke “Eshbaal” Johansen

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Tags: Traumafessions

Name That Trauma :: Reader Andy C. on a Trio of Terrors

August 28th, 2010 · 8 Comments

I’ve wondered on and off about these over the years – they are totally unrelated except for the fact that I would have seen each around the same time, early 1980’s or possibly late 1970’s, and probably on WLVI – Channel 56, Boston.

#1: Might have been horror, might have been jungle adventure, might have been sci-fi. I remember it being in color. I remember absolutely nothing about plot or characters, but the scene that burned itself into my retina involved a large cave, in which was a big primitive looking stone statue/idol. I assume this scene was at the end of the movie, because there was some cataclysmic event and the cave was shaking, fake rocks were tumbling in slow motion, and water was flooding in (I’m pretty sure it was miniature-scale water also filmed in slow motion.) I also seem to specifically remember the head of the stone idol toppling over and a jet of water shooting out of the neck. I was equally fascinated and scared by this scene.

#2: Definitely a horror film that was played more than once, because I remember being drawn back to it in spite of the knowledge that it was going to scare the crap out of me. The scene that has stuck with me was a woman (who may have been sporting a beehive hairdo, which itself was kind of disturbing) being attacked by a bloodsucking, flowering plant. I think this was also in color, because I’m pretty sure I remember seeing the flowers being on transparent tubes so you could see the red blood being drained out of the poor lady.

#3: Some kind of spy/sci-fi movie, featuring people either trying to escape or break into some kind of high-security compound. The particularly traumatizing moments in this film were: A guy getting electrocuted while climbing a chain-link fence. (I think this was a twilight or night scene) and ESPECIALLY bad guys dressed all in black, hiding in closets and behind doors, and then OMG jumping out and stabbing people in the neck with a jet injector, either killing them or drugging them to be dragged away for further skullduggery. I was afraid of closets and potential lurkers-behind-doors for a long time after this one, and I still get a little freaked out by any film or T.V. scene involving jet injectors. I remember the costume/clothing looking pretty contemporary, so my guess is this was a late ‘70s production.

Thanks for any and all possibilities you good people can suggest!

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Tags: Name That Trauma!

Kindertrauma Funhouse :: With Special Guest Star Aunt John

August 27th, 2010 · 37 Comments

thank you for being a funhouse friend

Pull up a piece of wicker and join your dear old Aunt John out on the Kindertrauma lanai. The girls are about to come over for our weekly canasta and cheesecake hen party, but this Miami heat has done a real number on your Auntie’s memory. Can you please help me remember which movies these lovely ladies appeared in?

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

thank you for being a funhouse friend

NOTE: The winner of today’s Funhouse will receive a gift from Aunt John, and the card attached will most definitely say, “Thank you for being a friend!”

thank you for being a funhouse friend

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Tags: Kindertrauma Funhouse

Traumafessions :: Reader EA on the Haunted Mansion of Long Branch, NJ

August 26th, 2010 · 7 Comments

Hello again…you posted my “Sgt. Pepper/Aerosmith” trauma a while back so I thought maybe I’d send along another…

Growing up in New Jersey, you have more than your fair share of emotionally-traumatizing pitfalls. Every town, it seems, has a wooded area that is home to Satan worshipers. Abandoned prisons and mental institutions dot the landscape. And don’t even ask about what’s lurking in the Pine Barrens.

And yet, what to this day traumatized me so much that it STILL causes me to reflexively reach for the channel dial (even when viewed via YouTube on a computer) and STILL sends a cold shiver down my spine at the mere mention of Long Branch, New Jersey? “The Haunted Mansion.”

Specifically, this local T.V. ad for the Haunted Mansion.

It starts out with bouncy music and playful images of summer fun. The perfect weekend “down the shore,” as we say. Nothing at all wrong with it. But it plants that weird seed in the back of your mind: Why is it called the “Haunted Mansion and Amusement Pier”? Oh, wait…

Then it happens. The shadow on the stairwell. That’s what did it. A hunched figure in tattered clothes. Not a remote-controlled dummy, not a plastic mannequin. A REAL THING. Lurching towards the screen and disrupting the sun-drenched playfulness. He’s followed by a woman popping out of a coffin. Before my young brain could even process these images…we’re back to fun music and bumper cars. Almost like…you didn’t see what you think you saw. Move along, folks. Nothing to see here….

Which made the Haunted Mansion THAT MUCH MORE TERRIFYING. Does it exist? If so, why did they cut away so quickly? Is it REAL? Who is that man lurking in the stairwell? OH MY GOD, TURN IT OFF.

Researching this clip, I swear, the opening “For a day you’ll never forget…” almost stopped me cold. I hit pause and seriously considered whether or not I could play the whole thing…I could almost hear my older brother making fun of me and vowing to drag me to the Haunted Mansion

UNK SEZ:: Ack! EA, your traumafession reminded me of my own personal experiences with a commercial for Brigantine Castle. I tracked it down and egad, it’s got the very same hunchback shadow guy in it!

The scariest part of the Brigantine commercial for me was the skeleton arm chasing Rhoda. I was sure she was going to get pushed over the wall to her death!

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Tags: Traumafessions

Traumafessions :: Reader J.T.L. on the Emergency Broadcasting System

August 25th, 2010 · 2 Comments

Growing up with dwindling vision is one thing. Growing up with said vision and hearing the EMERGENCY BROADCASTING SYSTEM testing every single day on PBS, sometimes more than twice a day, was enough to send me running.

My worst time though was when I was seven; my grandmother had come to stay for a while. I was eating breakfast at the table when the GARFIELD cartoon I was watching cut to the E.B.S. announcer. She said I ran like all of hell’s hounds were on my heels and refused to come out from under the bed for about an hour. I don’t blame me for doing it.

Also the test pattern, the SMPTE color bars, did it, and did it well. Let’s see, vertical hold notices, claw machines, I was quite the little coward.

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Tags: Traumafessions

Carnival of Souls (1962)

August 24th, 2010 · 12 Comments

Some call CARNIVAL OF SOULS, the cheap as they come, sometimes poorly acted, sometimes barbarically edited, sometimes inadequately dubbed drive-in movie from 1962 a masterpiece and one of those “some people” is me. If you have never seen CARNIVAL OF SOULS before, rather than continue reading this flimsy appraisal, watch it HERE. I don’t want to spoil the surprise ending for you even though chances are that just by reading the words “surprise ending” you instantly know the score. Watch it now. I’ll still be here when you are done.

Yep, it’s that OWL CREEK BRIDGE, “Guess what? You’re dead!” zing again! Don’t let that final reveal spoil the whole movie for you, back when CARNIVAL was released everybody and their brother SHYAMALAN hadn’t milked the concept into oblivion yet. Honestly, I think you can just take that last scene out of the movie if you want. When all is said and done I’m not sure it really matters. It’s not that unique to be “already dead.” If you look far enough into the future every one of us is submerged in our own version of that car and we too are “already dead.” Just because we are all dead in the eventual future is no reason to feel blue. Life is a carnival of rich and exciting experiences to enjoy. Not convinced? Get in line behind Mary Henry, the driving force of CARNIVAL.

CARNIVAL is a beautiful film; it’s just plain cinematic poetry. Point out any flaw you like and I’ll tell you how it only enhances the overall ambiance. Minimalist, pure, gushing with the title’s promised “soul,” this is a film that transcends beyond mere entertainment to become a work of art. Made by moonlighting educational filmmakers, CARNIVAL has the omnipotent gusto of a monument that built itself. Director HERK HARVEY was inspired by a chance sighting of an abandoned pavilion and writer JOHN CLIFFORD admits that the script came to his mind fully formed and seemingly wrote itself. In other words, the universe demanded this film be made so naturally it’s a perfect beast that can be interpreted a zillion ways until the world explodes! We can go on and on about the stark, vivid photography, the haunting all-organ score and the film’s vast influence (go ahead and imagine a world where CARNIVAL OF SOULS never came to be, just don’t be surprised when some of your GEORGE ROMERO and DAVID LYNCH movies disappear too!) but let’s move past that because more importantly in my opinion, there’s something about Mary.

Mary Henry as portrayed by the STRASBERG trained beauty CANDACE HILLIGOSS is one of the most fascinating and unique characters in all of horror. With the exception of being easy on the eyes, Mary relies on none of the characteristics usually employed to gain audience sympathy and she’s all the more remarkable for it. Mary is a play for pay church organist with an apathetic stance on religion. I’m thinking that in 1962 this may have appeared a worthy sin to conjure supernatural comeuppance but today she simply appears frank. She’s clearly conscious of what she’s supposed to say to please others but it’s just not in her to do so. From what we get to know about Mary her stance makes perfect sense. Religion in a way requires you to give in to something bigger than yourself, to hand your reigns over to another force, something Mary is clearly loathe to do. Furthermore, anything that even vaguely tempts rhapsody might revolt her. Mary is just not feeling it.

Once again, the fact that Mary’s experience is revealed to be posthumous does not matter. I’d say the nightmare maze she endures is an exaggerated display of her genuine feelings about her place in the world. Not only does she find no joy or solace in religion, she appears equally ambivalent about psychiatry, romance, alcohol and apparently ballroom dancing. She’s basically crossed off and rejected every life-crutch in the book! The pinnacle of her dreads involves coupling with “the man.” (Director HARVEY portrays “the man” I’m sure officially due to budget constrictions but in reality due to this film just can’t stop being genius.) I’m sorry but Mary is some kind of wonderful. She’s an existentialist outsider and if you think she’s quick on her feet attempting to outrun death, just see how this gal books when she’s trying to outrun life!

When we first encounter Mary Henry she is passively involved in a drag race that ends with her female companions dead. Next she’s off to start a new life in a new town with a new job. Mary is a young woman who is just starting off in the world but the only thing she encounters in it is alienation. Various parental or authority figures attempt to maneuver her in the directions that they desire, to teach her the “rules of the game” but she just won’t budge. It’s tempting to chalk her position up to residue left by her accident but that just can’t be the case. Mary has a distinct viewpoint, a firm, fully formed outlook that could not have come to her overnight. She’s quite simply not buying whatever everybody is trying to sell her and the consequence of not going with the flow is exclusion. She adamantly states that she has little interest in the comfort or company of other people yet she eventually ends up yelling, “I don’t want to be alone!” Oh, if only you could have it both ways Mary!

On the surface CARNIVAL glides around like a ghostly supernatural spook show but many of the scenes of horror we witness have more than a passing resemblance to what you’d expect to find in an alien “pod people” scenario. There are plenty of shots of Mary running down oppressive city streets obviously estranged from the general public and she eventually succumbs to being stomped out by a mob. Death is omnipresent but “death” means meshing and succumbing to the crowd. Above all else the message seems to be that she can either join/integrate or slowly cease to exist. I read the ghouls that chase her as dark shadow images of the “living” who are attempting to snuff her out with equal determination.

Mary experiences two specific dissociative episodes. On the surface they read like periods where death has caught up to her or foreshadows of her ultimate fate. The first occurs after a rare pleasant experience with another human being, a notably androgynous sales lady. Is Mary so rigid that she can’t allow herself even a moment of pleasure? Has the saleswoman thrown her into homosexual panic? Mary’s existential dilemma overrides such notions. I believe she has come to the reverse SEX AND THE CITY conclusion that the approved uniform offers her nothing and that low and behold, consumerism does not fill the void. Her plight to maintain her sense of identity is not aided by the purchase of a dress. Yet another life-crutch kicked to the curb.

During Mary’s spell she spies workers jack-hammering in the street. The jack-hammers are powered by an engine marked “joy.” Is this some heavy handed symbolism backing up the idea that Mary’s issue is merely some sort of sexual repression? I see them more as accidental representatives of the oppressive forces trying to bully Mary into feeling something she doesn’t.

Mary’s next “loss of self” episode occurs when her primary bugaboo is triggered. Her car needs fixing and feeling vulnerable she asks if she can remain in it as it is repaired. As the car is placed in a lift and raised into the air, Mary has lost all control. (You can’t blame her for freaking really, the last time Mary let someone else be in control of the car things didn’t end up too good.) The underbelly of the vehicle is exposed and “the Man” draws closer. She is thrown into another frenzy of identity crisis and she ends up roaming the streets pleading to be acknowledged but invisible to all. This episode concludes like the first with Mary touching a tree and noticing a bird song in order to gain entry back to herself. Is Mary connecting to a more “natural” existence the answer?

If Mary wants to find a more “natural” existence she’s going to have to do it on her own and with zero support from those around her. I believe we do get a glimpse of her with her guard down at one point as she is playing her organ. It’s the closest thing to a sex scene we’ll get. If you approach CARNIVAL as simple horror she seems possessed but if you consider her larger drama she is at last free. Mary “gets down” playing the organ. She is filled with spirit and soul as she free styles some crazy goth tuneage. (Her shoes even disappear. ) Her one act of full self expression is thwarted by a priest that reprimands her for being “blasphemous.” Just like that bird in the tree, Mary does have a song to sing. It’s just not a song that some people want to hear.

Women were under much societal pressure to conform to certain roles in 1962 but let’s not throw out the universal baby with the feminist bath water. The world has expectations for all of us and those expectations are not always based on who we are as individuals. To me this is not a movie about death or heaven or hell and it’s most certainly not about a fragile gal in need of the boinking cure. To me the real undercurrent of horror throughout comes from the fear of losing one’s personal identity to the crowd and the counter fear of expulsion if one does not march in line. Ghouls or no ghouls, reality or dream, Mary buries the lead mid-film when she states simply, “I don’t belong in the world.”

It’s possible that Mary was designed by her architects to be a cold, frustratingly distant glass blond. If that’s the case they have happily failed, thanks in large part to the depths of HILIGOSS. I don’t really care about a filmmaker’s intentions anyhow. I’d never let a chef tell me what their food tastes like. If CARNIVAL is meant to be a simple, “You’re dead!” ghost tale, well, I’m sorry guys, you screwed up and made something more. Victory and heroics do not necessarily walk hand in hand and regardless of her outcome I see Mary as a noble figure. Her sword is her ability to question the status quo and to reject the false identities that are thrust upon her by others. She may end up submerged in a car but like I said before, don’t we all? I’ll close with my favorite frame in the whole film. In the top right hand corner you’ll see the face of the world’s preferred version of Mary; dead or alive, the bottom left displays the enigmatic real deal.

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Tags: General Horror

Name That Trauma :: Reader James B. on a Camouflaged Killer

August 23rd, 2010 · 6 Comments

Dear Kindertrauma,

A friend is trying to find the name of a movie. It opens with a flash back to a girl who was a babysitter. A guy comes to the door claiming car trouble, and afterwards the kids disappear. Fast forward to present day and the girl is working with a therapist. She ends up dying from same killer who was hiding by camouflaging himself. The killer then goes after the therapist by painting himself to look like a brick wall, and slowly drives the doctor insane by throwing his voice. Hopefully someone could tell us the answer.

UNK SEZ: Ironically, the camouflage gave this trauma away. Your pal has got to be talking about 1993’s WHEN A STRANGER CALLS BACK. I’m glad you brought this one up James B. because it’s an effective thriller that has somehow gone and blended in with the woodwork! Who would ever guess that a sequel made for cable 14 years after the original could be so darn good. In fact, there are many who believe that with this continuation, writer/ director FRED WALTON outdid his 1979 classic WHEN A STRANGER CALLS (WALTON also directed the beloved 1986 slasher APRIL FOOL’S DAY). CAROL KANE and CHARLES DURNING reprise their roles from the first film and if that weren’t enough, we get the added bonus of the not celebrated often enough scream queen, JILL SCHOELEN (THE STEPFATHER, CURSE II: THE BITE, CUTTING CLASS, PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, POPCORN). It looks like this one is lacking an official DVD release but I was able to stalk it down over at the YouTubes!

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Tags: Name That Trauma!

Name That Trauma :: Reader Sim on Crawling Clothes

August 22nd, 2010 · 3 Comments

Name that trauma!

Hi you wonderful and weird people, you… O.K., so this is all I can remember, and typing it is making my heart race and worry about sleeping later, I’m 38 for God’s sake! Trouble is I don’t recall how old I was, but probably around 11, 12, back in ’84-ish. And, I didn’t see the entire film; it was actually a clip of a film being shown on a quiz show…

So, there’s this kid ill in bed, it’s a dimly lit room I think, and he’s lying on his back clearly out of it covered in sweat; his mother touches his forehead then leaves the room, closing the door behind her. An item of clothing, can’t remember what, falls off a hook on the door onto the floor. After a few seconds of the camera still on the clothing, it suddenly but slowly starts to move across the floor to the bed…

And that’s it, forty seconds of film and a lifelong fear of clothes on the floor.

I’m hoping naming the source of my fear will help cure me of it, but I don’t think it’s that simple. But I can’t afford a therapist, so let’s give it a go.



Name that trauma!

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