Poltergeist 3

    This post is part of FINAL GIRL‘s


        In which participants:

          “write about something in the world of film that fills you with complete and total unbridled fucking retarded JOY.”

            I’m not sure I know what this “joy” thing is, but I do know that you’re supposed to say “mentally challenged” rather than “retarded” and “whoopee” instead of the “F” word! Wait a minute, that sounds kinda douchey, perhaps I missed the point of this whole thing! Actually I know exactly what my pal Final Girl, aka Stacie Ponder is talking about. You see, all us folks who write about movies sometimes we forget that we’re supposed to sorta LIKE movies a little bit. It seems we’re kinda busy trying to be know-it-alls all the time and that we forget what it’s like to just enjoy the stuff. Anyone can sit back and judge and critique but you know what? It’s super fucking hard to make a movie and it’s not something any retard can do. Movies are amazing things and they can change the way you think about stuff and they can take you away from all your worries almost as well as alcohol can, but without that whole waking up in an alley with a missing shoe problem. We tend to fold our arms and say, “Show me!” to the screen rather than putting a little effort forth and trying to understand what the filmmakers were trying to do and that’s OUR loss. I’m not saying that there aren’t lousy movies out there, but let’s be honest, there are way more lousy audience members.

              So to quote one of my favorite lines from the unloved DEMI MOORE vehicle MORTAL THOUGHTS “Where is the joy?” Well for me the joy is in perfect moments in not so perfect movies like MORTAL THOUGHTS. Stacey’s gauntlet toss had me thinking “Here is the perfect time to defend one of my favorite flicks that everyone hates!” Would it be CATHY’S CURSE or THE ATTIC? Honestly, both of those movies just seemed too big for me to tackle in my post Saint Patrick Day’s haze.

                Then it came to me, POLTERGEIST 3! How I love it! And not even because it’s a freaky failure or because there’s big hair and awful GOLDEN GIRLS style pastel clothes and truly shitty dialogue. I’m just amazed that it exists and I can watch it everyday. I think it’s just weird as hell and strangely moving and there’s a real yucky death vibe in there. It’s just so damn DIFFERENT from everything else. I love that none of the effects were done in postproduction. I love the corny mirror tricks. I love director GARY SHERMAN(DEAD AND BURIED). I love NANCY ALLEN. Holy shit, I may even love the intolerable Scott (KIPLEY WENTZ)!

                  I love it so much more than I could ever love a “good” movie. Honestly, you really don’t know what love is until you figure out how to love imperfection…I think Jesus told me that, pass it on. So there I was ready to write my review and I remembered THIS FANTASTIC POLTERGEIST 3 SITE! I thought I’d just check it out for last minute inspiration, but once there I said to myself, self I sez “HERE is the joy… This is joy in all its fucking retarded glory!”

                    Webmaster David Furtney who is well aware of P3‘s considerable faults is infatuated and madly in love with P3 to a degree that should be envied by filmgoers everywhere. Let me go one further, as a human being on this planet consider yourself lucky if ANYONE ever loves you with a fifth of the devotion that David does his P3. When I saw that he even linked to an online SPEAK n SPELL game I nearly choked back tears. My “Don’t be a douchbag day” dreams had been answered!

                      I can’t tell you that POLTERGEIST 3 is a good movie, but I can tell you what love is and if you don’t recognize it when some one is pointing it out to you as plainly as I am here, then you my friend may be ever so slightly douchey. So rather than post a review, I suggest we all check out DAVID’S SITE, maybe it won’t change your mind about POLTERGEIST 3, but I think it may remind you of a similar movie that you have in your collection; one that you may not be exactly proud of, but that you turn to now and again when you want to remember what joy is.


                      Clad in a sweet pair of L.A. Gear hi-tops and patchwork short shorts, spoiled twenty-something Tory (JENNIFER ANISTON) moves into a dilapidated bungalow in the middle of nowhere with her father. Unbeknownst to the father/daughter duo, and the trio of painters they contract to spruce up the place, there is a gold-obsessed leprechaun (WARWICK DAVIS) locked in a crate in the basement. While Tory and handyman Nathan (KEN OLANDT of APRIL FOOL’S DAY and SUMMER SCHOOL fame) set to painting the side of the house electric blue, the developmentally disabled Ozzie (MARK HOLTON, “It’s not for sale, Francis!” from PEE WEE’s BIG ADVENTURE) frees the wee monster from his wooden prison. No one believes Ozzie at first when he tells of seeing a leprechaun in the basement, but they all come around pretty quickly after it starts tirelessly terrorizing them for his gold. The leprechaun is pretty persistent, and manages to send Tory’s father to the hospital, injures Nathan’s leg with a bear trap, and kills a cop and a precious metals expert in his quest. After Tory returns what is believed to be all of the gold hidden in a wishing well, the leprechaun keeps up with his attacks, demanding the return of a final missing coin unfortunately located in Ozzie’s stomach. Nathan and Ozzie distract the leprechaun by tossing an assortment of pumps and flats into the yard (aside from having a thing for gold, the leprechaun also has a shoe fetish), so Tory can slip away to a local convalescent home to learn that only a four-leaf clover can stop the pint-sized psycho. Tory and the boys eventually manage to immobilize the tiny terror with a clover and imprison him in the wishing well before the end credits, but not before viewers are subjected to a nightmarish mishmash of bad puns and sight gags that were better delivered by FREDDY KRUEGER.

                      • All of the scenes involving the leprechaun and his various modes of miniaturized transport: tricycle, toy car, roller skates, wheelchair, and skateboard
                      • The leprechaun careens through the fence and leaves a perfect outline of his body ala a BUGS BUNNY cartoon
                      • The leprechaun’s tiny hand pops through the receiver and caresses Tory’s cheek
                      • Tory’s sizeable portable phone (cellular technology has come along way since 1993)

                      Traumafessions :: Aunt John on Darby O’Gill & the Little People

                      I was either in second or third grade at the time, and as a special St. Patrick’s Day treat my entire grade school was forced to don green attire, drink Shamrock Shakes concocted by the cafeteria staff, and watch DARBY O’GILL & THE LITTLE PEOPLE in the gymnasium. Overall, the film was pretty dull and could barely hold the attention of kids cracked out on mint-chocolate chip drinks. The mass boredom quickly gave way to hysteria with the on-screen appearance of the screaming banshee, who had come to claim the soul of title character’s daughter who had fallen ill after chasing a horse up a mountain side. The younger kids started screaming and some were even audibly sobbing. Things got worse when the phantom death coach came tearing out of the sky to take Darby in place of his daughter. The girl sitting in front of me on the floor became so upset she vomited green ice cream chunks all over the back of the boy sitting in front of her. The teacher running the projector stopped the film, and I don’t think they ever showed it again for St. Patty’s Day.

                      Still Of The Night


                       What in the name of God is a MERYL STREEP movie doing on Kindertrauma? Before you throw your computer out the window, let me explain. STILL OF THE NIGHT also stars the recently deceased and highly mourned ROY SCHEIDER (JAWS)! It is a quiet, slow boiling homage to HITCHCOCK (visually, it’s more INTERIORS-era WOODY ALLEN) and although it wouldn’t induce a goose pimple on your old Aunt Tilly, it was released in 1982 and sometimes that’s enough. SCHEIDER plays Dr. Sam Rice, a psychiatrist whose patient may or may not have been killed (sadly off screen) by Brooke Reynolds (STREEP in her lone chain-smoking Femme Fatale performance. Between you, me and the lamppost she actually cleans up real good). O.K., that’s sorta the whole plot, someone’s trying to snuff ROY’s light out too, and we’re supposed to think it’s the STREEP, but nobody does because that’s far too obvious. The real reason that S.O.T.N. made it to these pink pages is because, at one point, ROY recounts his patient’s Frued-orific dream which has a handy riddle inside, that once deciphered will reveal the real killer. This dream features a very scary little girl. In fact, she’s so creeped-out that when she pulls her teddy bear’s eye off, it bleeds real blood! The little waif proceeds to make like a pint-sized Freddy Krueger and chases the poor, soon-to-be-dead dreamer around a swanky Long Island abode. Ultimately, she bursts through a door with pupils painted on her eyelids and autumn leaves swirling about her head while an ear splitting scream blares. The dream sequence is pretty damn cool and, truthfully, so is the surprise ending where I promise you a knife does come into play in some capacity. The bad news is you will have to endure a non-thrilling auction house scene that tries to pry suspense from ROY passing STREEP a note undetected. STILL OF THE NIGHT is probably too still for most horror junkies but, the great part is, if you ever find yourself getting bored, you can always play spot the HITCHCOCK reference.indelible scenes

                      • Roy has an Uncle Charlie ala SHADOW OF A DOUBT
                      • STREEP sits in as the prerequisite blonde ice queen and JESSICA TANDY (THE BIRDS) is present as well
                      • Dreams play a large role (SPELLBOUND) and there’s also an auction (NORTH BY NORTHWEST)
                      • STREEP conveniently moves into an apartment behind her alleged prey allowing for voyeuristic REAR WINDOW camera play
                      • That first step is a doozy! (VERTIGO)

                      The Kindred


                       Right before kicking the bucket with an unsolicited assist from diabolical Dr. Lloyd (mad as a hatter ROD STIEGER, AMERICAN GOTHIC), Amanda Hollins (BAD RONALD‘s ma KIM HUNTER) informs her son John (DAVID ALLEN BROOKS) that he has an unknown brother named Anthony. She also requests that he go to her house and destroy all evidence of the secret experiments that she has been working on over the years. Rather than heed his mom’s dying wish, John invites his girlfriend, his co-workers and a shifty follower of his mom’s theoretical writings (AMANDA PAYS , LEVIATHON) up to the old homestead for a weekend of snooping and dropping like flies. What John discovers, besides that his friends are mortal, is that he may have got the looks and brains in the family, but his long lost brother got the amphibian complexion and the desire to maim. If ever there was an unheralded, long lost classic from the eighties this is it. The story moves at a clip, the characters are engaging (GEORGE CLOONEY‘s ex TALIA BALSAM of CRAWLSPACE is especially good) and most importantly, the latter half of the film is wall-to-wall sludge, stomach busting effects and edge of your sofa suspense. I’m shocked that it does not have a better reputation among horror fans. Sure, it opens like one of those boring, claustrophobic mad scientist in an underground bunker flicks, but once it gets revved up. it plays like the great missing H.P. LOVECRAFT adaptation that STUART GORDON forgot to tell you he made. I have to admit to being partial to tentacles, be they octopus, squid or BOOGEN in origin, and this pictures got’ em by the truckload. Why they even sprout out of a watermelon for chrisake! There is a human to fish transformation scene, rickety floorboards that lead to a subterranean pit of mini monsters, and a rousing climax that leaves STIEGER covered in clear gelatinous goo. If you’ve somehow missed this once late night cable regular, do yourself a favor and track it down. The kill ratio may be low but the slime tide is remarkably high.indelible scenes

                      • From the That’s Gotta Suck! File: Being trapped down in Dr Lloyd’s basement full of homicidal open sored puss-faced mutations
                      • Quiet drive is disturbed by watermelon exploding with creature and every orifice in driver’s face being stuffed with tentacles
                      • Screaming cat-like monstrosity on the operating table
                      • Melissa (PAYS) violently shoves a fetus critter back in the jar
                      • John’s ultimate showdown with brother Anthony!

                      Official Traumatot:: Billy Jacoby


                       Even if you don’t know his name, you’re sure to have seen BILLY JACOBY before. He appeared in nearly every other television show and movie produced during the eighties. Juggling multiple monikers throughout his career and now known as BILLY JAYNE, this OFFICIAL TRAUMATOT’s genre resume may be the longest on record. Putting aside his most visible turn as the wise-cracking Buddy in the teen TOOTSIE-in-reverse masterpiece JUST ONE OF THE GUYS, his credits include BLOODY BIRTHDAY, HOSPITAL MASSACRE A.K.A. X-RAY (in which he was paired again alongside BLOODY BIRTHDAY costar ELIZABETH HOY), THE BEASTMASTER, the great SUPERSTITION, the classic CUJO, the amazing NIGHTMARES, the nearly unwatchable DEMONWARP and even the DAVID DeCOTEAU helmed JUDY LANDERS infected trashathon DR.ALIEN among others. It’s high time we all salute the hardest working TRAUMATOT in the business!     

                      Bloody Birthday


                         If you ever give birth to a baby during an eclipse, take my advice and throw it into the nearest trash can. Babies born during an eclipse, having missed the influence of Saturn, have nothing by the way of human conscience. I can tell you first hand that living without a conscience is no big whoop; however, these eclipse babies also develop a passion for brutal murder, and without the conscience thing to curb their bloodlust, what you get is a situation like the one depicted in BLOODY BIRTHDAY. In this case, three kids are born on the same eclipse sullied day and as they near their tenth year of life on our blue planet, their insatiable desire for murder cripples, or at least complicates matters for, a small Californian town. The three kids in question are as follows; four-eyed weasel Curtis Taylor (BILLY JACOBY), cruel MISS-PIGGY-faced Debbie Brody (ELIZABETH HOY) and a boring blond kid who only becomes less so when a fish bowl is chucked at his head (STEVEN SETON). Whenever they can, they kill the innocent with an arsenal of jump ropes, skateboards, shovels, arrows, and, when time is of the essence, guns. Little Debbie is so blatantly evil that she charges her mischievous posse quarters to check out big sis Beverly (The non “Wubba Wubba Wubba” JULIE BROWN ) undress! Thank all that is holy that sometimes-sitter Joyce Russel (THE PREY‘s LORI LETHIN) and her lil’ bro Timmy (Mike Seaver’s pal Eddie from GROWING PAINS, K.C. MARTEL) figure out exactly what the terrible troika’s got cooking and vow to put an end to their sinister shenanigans. With a bucket load of bottom of the barrel co-stars (top billers SUSAN STRASBERG and JOSE FERRER make glorified cameos ), and a script whose mantra is “destination nowhere”, BLOODY BIRTHDAY may be an amateurishly decorated, half-baked affair but thanks to the nonstop mayhem, it’s also a wish come true for killer kiddie flick fans.indelible scenes

                      • Mid coital teens pulverized in open grave
                      • Dad cop Brody bludgeoned in the front yard
                      • Junk yard refrigerator trap
                      • Curtis tries to run down Joyce wearing ghostly guise
                      • The great ant poison birthday cake debacle
                      • BLOODY BIRTHDAY‘s ultimate trademark set piece JULIE BROWN gets arrow in the eye through makeshift bedroom closet glory hole



                       GREEN ACRES truly is the place to be! EDDIE ALBERT would have won his famous theme song country vs. city debate with EVA GABOR a lot quicker if he left out the “chores” lyric and simply reminded her of the “C.H.U.D.s!” The Big Apple may have stores and Times Square, but neither of those selling points can be experienced when one is being pulled into a manhole by a glowy-eyed subterranean mutation. For our less citified readers I should explain exactly what a C.H.U.D. is. The acronym stands for “Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dweller” or “Contamination Hazard Urban Disposal” depending on whom you ask. If you receive the latter reply as an answer to your query, you are probably speaking to someone who is deeply imbedded in the cover-up of these monstrous creatures. In addition, if you’ve ever found yourself wondering why radiation poisoning is not a viable solution to our country’s homeless problem, look no further. It turns out that radiation has a strange effect on the homeless. The sad truth is it turns them into C.H.U.D.s. In the old days before you could just Google such facts, folks had to find out the hard way. Disgruntled fashion photographers (JOHN HEARD), mop topped soup kitchen volunteers (DANIEL STERN) and even widowed (by C.H.U.D.-ly means) police officers (CHRISTOPHER CURRY) had to get their hands dirty to discover what you just learned for free. For those who are thinking, “Just round up all the bag people and transients and ship them off, that’ll solve the problem!” I have to disagree. It’s actually the illegal transportation of radioactive toxic waste through our sewer systems that is the real culprit here. How can you differentiate between normal homeless people and those that have gotten the C.H.U.D. bug? Well floodlights for eyes and green skin is one fool proof indicator, but try this test the next time you’re passing by a hobo camp; just stop and offer up some coinage. If your arm comes back a bloody stump, you’re most definitely dealing with a C.H.U.D.!indelible scenes

                      • Lady walking her dog is pulled into manhole
                      • Lost father and young daughter use phone booth and accidentally dial 1-800-C.H.U.D.
                      • Poor puppy is found hanging by leash in sewer
                      • Considerate C.H.U.D. elongates neck for easier Samurai sword slicing
                      • HEARD & STEARNS exciting manhole escape!

                      South Park: Imaginationland


                       Even if you are not a regular fan of SOUTH PARK, you doubtlessly are a fan of someone or something that makes a cameo in SOUTH PARK IMAGINATIONLAND. Freddy, Pinhead, Jason, THE PROPHECY‘s ManBearPig, CLASH OF THE TITAN‘s Medusa and even every nerd boy’s wet dream, Retro-Cylons (!) can all be spotted. Those are only a handful of the trauma-inducing icons that appear in the special three-part ,epic mini-movie. I’d reveal more, but the less you know the better about this colorful collage/map of the inside of your pop-culture-fried brain that’s guaranteed to push your DVD player’s “pause” button to its limit!