kindertrauma

Year: 2015

Name That Trauma:: Dan D. on Zombies, Cowboys and Hookers

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Here are the two movies I keep asking about.

There is a movie I saw as part of a double feature at the Castro Theater in San Francisco. It was black and white and it may have taken place in Africa. The movie was about some rich people who lived in a walled off complex and they were always nervous about the natives. The main star was possessed or hypnotized by a witch doctor. That is all I remember.

The second movie isn't a horror film, and it was most likely from the 70s or 80s. All I remember is some young girl ran away or was kidnapped. She was forced into prostitution and doing drugs. The movie was about a cowboy or someone from the South coming to the city to rescue her. I think it was a Death Wish type movie.

Dan D.

UNK SEZ: Thanks Dan! I've got a hunch that the first flick you are looking for is 1943's I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE (check out the trailer below). As for the second one…it's killing me! I feel like I have seen it before. Maybe I'm just mixing together WINGS HAUSER's western garb in VICE SQUAD (1982) with the brother/sister team that appears in STREETWALKIN' (1985) though. We're going to have to leave that one up to our knowledgable readers and I have a sinking feeling I'm going to be kicking myself when I hear the answer.

Sunday Streaming Mother's Day Special:: The Kindred (1987)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Happy Mother's Day! Today I'm voting for KIM HUNTER as my favorite on screen mom! Not only was she a swell mom to BAD RONALD and was kind enough to hide him in a secret room when he accidentally killed a sassy smart aleck but she also played a mother of sorts to a slimy fish monster with tentacles named Anthony in the best ‘80s monster movie this side of THE THING! I'm talking about THE KINDRED and I will talk about THE KINDRED until the fine day it finally gets a proper DVD release! I'm not getting any younger folks and let me tell you, neither is my VHS tape! In the meantime, some saintly blessed person has put THE KINDRED up on VEOH so watch it below and spread the word!

Note: THE KINDRED pairs well with fish-flavored flicks like HUMANOIDS OF THE DEEP (1980) or DAGON (2001). Serve chilled with tartar sauce, a slice of lemon and a California white wine.

Name That Trauma:: Becky M. on a Sleepy Spider Swallower

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Hi,

My name is Becky and I was recommended to reach out to you folks with my search on an 80's horror film I can't track down info for. I must have been five or six at the time, and remember the trailer popping up on TV. It shows a woman lying on a bed, I think there are whispering voices in the dark, and a huge, hairy spider is very slowing coming down from the ceiling into her mouth!!! I was horrified and tried to cover my eyes, but I couldn't stop myself from watching. I never saw the film, still have no idea what it is, but the image of the woman's red lips opening and the spider about to go inside her mouth still creeps me out to this day!

Any info on this horror film would be greatly appreciated!

Thank again,

Becky M.

UNK SEZ: I'm pretty sure I've got your answer Becky! In fact, we've gotten a "Name That Trauma" on that very scene BEFORE. That's almost certainly WES CRAVEN's DEADLY BLESSING from 1981. Check out the trailer below….

Angel (1984)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I've got a fond memory of piling into a packed car full of teenage friends and heading off all wide eyed and enthusiastic to see ANGEL at the local theater opening night in 1984. I'm sure teenagers still pack into cars on Friday nights and hit their neighborhood movie houses but certainly gone are the days in which they can witness, on the big screen, a fresh slice of exploitation concerning a peer who is a high school honor student by day and a Hollywood hooker by night.

Good Lordy, our hero Angel was meant to be all of fifteen! That certainly wouldn't fly these days. Let me vouch for the eighties and state that the time period was not so much excessively permissive as it was chronically oblivious. As wrong-headed, ill advised and downright sleazy as ANGEL may come off as at first glance, it's got its heart in the right place and I've always found it more inspirational than provocative. Yep, I said inspirational. As an awkward, sexually confused teenager, ANGEL had a lot more interesting things to say to me than any slobbering PORKY'S flick or conformity-courting JOHN HUGHES offering.

Molly "Angel" Stewart (Kinder-fave DONNA WILKES of SCHIZOID, BLOOD SONG, GROTESQUE, JAWS 2 and 14 out of 38 episodes of HELLO LARRY fame) is a bright, kind-hearted kid who lives in shame. Her deadbeat dad ditched her at a young age and not long after her abhorrent mother abandoned her for greener pastures and a new beau. With the foundation of her identity built on assumed inadequacy and rejection, Molly commits herself to keeping up the appearance that she is normal and cared for in a sterile dollhouse apartment. Her days are spent working hard and being harassed at school and her nights are spent working hard and being harassed on the street where she prostitutes herself in order to make ends meet and maintain some semblance of control. She's a closet hooker and she knows that if she's ever found out, she'll be scorned and ruined. Poor Angel, it seems, is all alone and openly admits to never knowing the feeling of being truly loved…

Hold up, that's not entirely true. Throughout the course of writer/director ROBERT VINCENT O'NEILL's film we come to find that Angel is indeed loved and by many. Her birth family may be cold-hearted, self-centered shits but the family she chooses and assembles herself is impeccable, endearing and all kinds of awesome. And I think this is what makes ANGEL the movie so progressive, forward thinking and an unheralded touchstone in queer cinema (not because of any overt sexuality but because of the way it honors diversity and celebrates and defends deviation from the mainstream). What a valuable lesson to outsider youth, that there's a world outside the window of the creepy dollhouse room of emotional neglect they've been dumped in. Molly's not so different than many kids who take to the streets after their parents renounce them and her journey is about overcoming their dismissal and finding a support group of her own…

And by the way, what kind of nutcase wouldn't be on cloud nine with the two pictured above as surrogate guardians? Although we never meet Molly/Angel's real parents, I think it's safe to say the upgrade of upgrades has occurred. No stagnant familial gender roles collecting dust here, everyone is allowed to be their true, ever fluid selves. I wouldn't cross DICK SHAWN's cross dressing Mae unless I was looking to get clobbered and the always outstanding SUSAN TYRELL's tough as nails Solly Mosler doubles as the clan's resident sensitive artist (If I had to vote for what would be this flick's greatest misstep it would be that we are shown Molly/Angel preferring a stock figure drawing over one of Solly's beautiful paintings. It's a fun enough gag- it just doesn't jibe with anything else we learn about these dear people). Sure, these folks engage in some biting banter at times but spoiler alert: there's no doubt they genuinely care about each other's well being. In any case, SHAWN and TYRRELL together on screen are pure gold. If I had anything resembling arms I'd get a tattoo of he on one and she on the other.

Did I mention that Angel has bigger problems than hooking and homework? Yes, there's a killer on the loose! And what a killer! He's actually listed in the credits as simply, "The Killer" and he's pretty much the negative side of Molly's psyche personified. Like our beloved heroine, the killer has an estranged relationship with his mother. We know this by the way he sucks the yolk out of a hole in an egg while staring at a photo of her. Rather than embracing difference and exploring eccentricity though, the killer is one of those gross eighties, slick & slimy well-built puritans who, like an OCD Nazi, wants to rid the world of anyone he perceives as imperfect or unclean. It's worth noting that like many a deranged sociopath before and after him, the killer's go-to camouflage for hiding his hateful ways is masquerading as a devoutly religious person (in this case a hare Krishna. Not for nothing, supposed sinner Angel is the one who secretly donates her extra earnings to those in need).

Can Molly/Angel and a rag-tag team of allies which include the aforementioned stalwarts Mae and Solly, a not to be discounted oldster cowboy with plenty of fight left in him named Kit (the legendary RORY CALHOUN) and two of the rarest of beasts; a principled cop (CLIFF GORMAN) and a concerned guidance counselor (ELAINE GRIFTOS), both oddly preoccupied with doing the jobs, defeat once and for all, Judgy McJudgster, a.k.a. "The Killer"? Yes! Because Angel is the best!

Yeah, yeah, I know she's a prostitute and that's hardly the type of lifestyle one should want to emulate but don't worry she'll leave the biz behind as soon as she dispels the darkness and integrates her two personas. Besides, being a hooker is still ten times more dignified and self-empowering than whatever the hell happened to ALLY SHEEDY's character at the end of THE BREAKFAST CLUB.

Nope, ANGEL is not a perfect movie, the editing is weird and it almost seems like a couple scenes are missing but I think we all know by now that perfection is for egg sucking sickos and what are a few flaws anyway when a movie contains characters that are this memorably vibrant and so highly lovable? Let it be known, thirty plus years and counting, any friend of Angel's is a friend of mine.

NOTE: In case anybody missed the FUNHOUSE today, I made this ANGEL puzzle. Can you spot the ten differences?

Name That Trauma:: Kevin B. on Eyeless Spaceship Twins

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Howdy! I'm trying to help out a friend here, who's desperate to track down the source of many a nightmare. It was seen on Canadian TV in the late 90s, so it could either be a movie or a TV show.

It involves a pair of twins, both dressed identical, who board an alien spaceship. Afterwards, the ship's door opens again and their eyes have been gouged out. She seems to recall they were being filmed by a TV crew, and perhaps they won the chance to go on the ship. She says that looking back, it may have been comedic in nature, but she's not entirely sure.

If anybody has any hints or leads, that would be amazing.

Thanks a bunch!

Kevin B

UNK SEZ: This NTT should come with a trigger warning because even though I do not know the answer to it, the mere mention of twins and a spaceship has unearthed a memory of a movie I have longed to forget. That movie is SLAPSTICK OF ANOTHER KIND and now because I am evil and because it is on YouTube, I shall subject you to it as well as I'm not one to suffer alone…. Forgive me….

Sunday Viewing:: The Twilight Zone's The Hunt

Posted on By unkle lancifer

This week we lost a beloved member of the Kindertrauma family, our feline friend of twenty years, good ol' Gato Malo. Today's Sunday Streaming pick, my most favorite TWILIGHT ZONE episode "The Hunt" is dedicated in his honor. Rest in peace, Gato Malo! We love you and we'll see you soon!

Sunday Viewing:: Maniac Cop Trilogy

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Is there any better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than honoring the work of recently departed horror icon ROBERT Z'DAR by watching the exquisitely deranged MANIAC COP trilogy? The answer is nope. MANIAC COP and MANIAC COP 2 are generously offered by HULU below and luckily some unknown nice person has made part 3 available on good old YouTube as well! Rest in peace ROBERT! We miss you already.

Happy Birthday William Castle!

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Today is the legendary WILLIAM CASTLE's birthday. Let us celebrate by making him the focus of today's funhouse! Below are ten images from ten WILLIAM CASTLE movies. How many can you identify?

Traumafession:: GCG on Where The Red Fern Grows

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I realize someone before me has tackled this terrible subject, but it's been a while, and I need to focus more particularly on the film released in 1974, because as a child, I "experienced" the story on the page and the small screen simultaneously. Allow me to scare-quote that euphemistic verb, by the way, because this memory could be the worst of all from my childhood, the one that still makes me twitch with hopelessness even into early middle age.

Reading "young adult" fiction in the ‘70s and ‘80s (I don't think they marketed it as "young adult" back then; "children's literature," if I recall correctly) was a perilous business. Adult authors seemed to think that precocious ten-year-olds getting into non-pictorial reading for the first time needed to be apprised of all the horrible things that could happen to an innocent person throughout life. Bridge to Terabithia (rope swing breaks, Leslie falls and drowns in a creek), Tuck Everlasting (living forever sucks, just look at the miserable toad on the road who doesn't care if he lives or dies), The Outsiders (Johnny stabs and kills Bob, then later gets his back broken in a fire), Forever… (Michael nicknames his penis Ralph)—reading these books ensured that impending adulthood would look like atrocity footage. The Newbery Awards list was an honor roll of devastation and catastrophe.

Rawls' novel did not win the coveted Newbery, but it taught me never to read "children's novels" that were about dogs. Never. If you see a young boy embracing a dog on the cover of a children's novel: run. Or light the book on fire, and then run. Because adults use the radical innocence of animals and the deep attachment children form with them as an opportunity to teach them ways in which they can "accept death." They somehow think that the death of a pet is the shallow end of a death pool at the end of which dead parents and dead siblings and dead best friends float in ten feet of chlorinated death water. But I'm sorry to disappoint your pedantic urges, Rawls, "Old Yeller" Gipson, and the rest of you misery merchants: pets are just as intensely mourned.

Not content with spilling the intestines of one dog, Rawls pairs it with the second dog's death. Mind you, this second pet dies of despondency after its mate's demise! Sadness kills her! What happened to "accepting death," Rawls? And in the world of the novel, this is considered noble devotion at work: a red fern sanctifies the sacrifice, growing between the graves, validating the second death like a bride burning in India. Yes, it is good to stop living when your mate dies, Rawls would seem to be telling us.

Now, I know this is a family website but—fuck that book. And fuck the movie made from it in 1974. Previously, a contributor discussed the death of Rubin, the boy rival who falls on the axe. In the film, I remember the close-up of Rubin's face after the accident, a gout of blood running from his mouth, his eyes glazed in the wooded darkness. This was the moment that I learned a person could belch hot blood if they get axed in the stomach. The blood backs up and spills from the mouth. And children can die this way just as easily as adults; children, too, can rupture their organs with a sharp axe and regurgitate blood tainted with bile that originated somewhere near their kidneys. Thank you for letting my five-year-old self know! I don't think I would have matured correctly without that nugget of wisdom.

Let's talk about "treeing coons" for a minute, too. Aside from the dubious associations any American should make with that expression, the act of trapping a helpless raccoon in a tree, and then chopping down the entire tree in order to set your dogs on the defenseless animal, seems like extra-steps evidence of perverse sadism, all in order to get a Davy Crockett hat. Watching the film, I felt bad for the raccoon struggling to escape, running to the end of one limb after another in an animal panic, looking pathetically for a means to return to its innocent, bandit-faced life, free of Redbone Coondogs and Appalachian demon children. I have had a raccoon hiss at me on its hind legs while literally holding the lid of a metal garbage can like a post-apocalyptic shield, and I still feel this way.

I even felt bad for that tree. Again, who chops down a giant sycamore tree to catch a raccoon? Is that really the method required here? Weaken the ancient trunk enough with an axe so that some demented Old-Testament God can answer your sick prayers by sending a wind that topples it? What happened to sling shots, rifles, or let's-just-consider-this-a-win-and-let-everything-live? Whatever happened to catch and release? I realize Billy wants to save the venerable Ghost Coon—and bully for him—but look what happens when the natural hillbilly order of Kill Everything was disrupted: a boy falls on a hatchet and dies. What does that teach us?

Making a movie from a children's novel means letting a child five years younger experience the horrors of that book. I was a freakishly early reader (not that that helped me much in life, except to expose me to trauma much earlier than most children), but even the most illiterate kids can sit in front of a television and watch Rubin vomit blood and Little Ann collapse on the burial mound of her lifelong mate in total abject sadness.

Before I leave this subject to the carrion birds, let's review a couple book covers that deceived us as kids, the book cover illustrations that matter so much to visually inclined children. Here's the original dustjacket:

Ah, the halcyon days of frolicking with your best animal friends in the woods. But watch out! This is an autumnal setting! Do you know what that means, children? Of course you don't! You are still immune to the heavy-handed symbolism of the adult world. You think this is a lovely wooded scene, but in fact it Reeks of Death.

Here's a much later paperback edition:

Gosh, this looks thrilling, like a Hardy Boys mystery! What spooky, innocent fun this will be! I mean, sure, sometimes you notice the Hardy boys making fun of Chet for being fat now and then. A slight drop in your respect for the brothers, a nagging suspicion that they might be assholes to their friends, but otherwise safe, right? (I mean, at least until the spin-offs, when—allow my potty mouth one final f-bomb—a fucking car bomb kills Chet's sister, of course.)

Cheers,

GCG