UNK SEZ: Your poor, long suffering under-appreciated AUNT JOHN is recovering from eye surgery today so this eye-centric funhouse is dedicated to him! Make sure you send AUNT JOHN's eyeball some good vibes today because without those peepers this joint would not exist!
If you want to meet two of my favorite characters in the world of horror then you must watch producer/writer GEORGE (GAMES, RUBY) EDWARDS' lone directorial effort THE ATTIC. I can't get enough of meek, noodle-legged ticking-time bomb Louise Elmore (Oscar-nominated CARRIE SNODGRESS in one of her best roles) and her snidely, cantankerous wheelchair-bound pop Wendell (Oscar winning dynamo RAY MILLAND throwing superfluous logs on my fan-fire.) I love observing their mutually draining and detrimental shackle bond twice as much as they appear to hate experiencing it. Interestingly this dysfunctional duo made an earlier appearance portrayed by different actors in 1973's THE KILLING KIND. I'm forever grateful that TONY CRECHEALES and GEORGE EDWARDS who wrote both films found the two worthy of closer examination as in my world, these characters are welcome to sit at the same rotting picnic table as Baby Jane and Norman Bates.
Like Baby J. and Norman my ATTIC pals are trapped in the molasses of their own minds. The passing of time alone is horror enough for these under inflated floats that failed to keep up with the parade. Librarian lush Louise, once set to propel away from her father's critical eye instead finds herself eking out scraps of purpose as his unappreciated caretaker, a punishment she bestowed upon herself for the crime of being abandoned at the altar. Although she dreams of escape, she is as tethered to her past as her father is to his chair. Her only release is found in hidden hooch, vivid murderous fantasies, one night flings with sailors, the occasional failed arson attempt and her ever-expanding monkey collection. Mercifully, she does meet a new friend (RUTH COX) who inspires her to break her routine but the introduction of light into Louise's dark corner of the world illuminates a few truths she might have been better not to know. THE ATTIC is as tragic as anything can be that involves monkeys.
Some folks accuse THE ATTIC of not being a horror film at all but I say it only illustrates that the genre is less rigid than it is given credit for. Maybe there is little to no blood spill and maybe the few dry kills take place off screen, but that doesn't dilute the general awfulness that befalls our tipsy protagonist. Released in 1980, during the height of the slasher boom, THE ATTIC is particularly and perhaps purposefully out of touch with the times; a fact made all the more clear when Louise attends a slasher film within the course of the film.
Late to the party though it may be, THE ATTIC and Louise are more in step with the spooky spinster flicks that came in the wake of WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? Which makes sense considering our characters first appeared in a movie by CURTIS HARINGTON the director of both WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH HELEN? and WHOEVER SLEW AUNTY ROO? It's not the best pedigree if you're looking to court a teen audience, but I like being reminded that once upon a time folks thought it was just as frightening to loose your mind as your head.
If I'm making THE ATTIC sound overly dowdy and maudlin then I'm not explaining it right. It's actually one of the funniest movies in the world to me partially due to its intentional black humor and partially due to its high-pitched melodrama. I can't help thinking that cult classics HAROLD AND MAUDE and WHERE'S POPPA? were of equal influence as the previously mentioned horror films as THE ATTIC shares those films affection for morbid levity, suspicion of parental authority and utilizing mellow seventies music as a Greek chorus to back up the action on screen.
Even though the film is humorous (and how could any movie that pairs an ape in a sailor suit against a grouchy MILLAND not be?) when it decides to nosedive into the well of horror, it does so with knowing assurance. Our final moments spent with Louise before the curtain falls are both uber-gothic and catastrophic. Perhaps, it's all more creepy than actually scary, but that will depend on how frightening you find the idea of a life misspent crushing oneself to suit the whims of another. To me, horror doesn't get much scarier than that.
What is it about ventriloquist dummies that seem to scare people so? Is it their dwarfish human-like bodies, their wooden ligaments grotesquely moving in a mockery of life? Is it the cruel turn of their painted lips, the gleam of their wide, staring eyes? Or is it the fact that their purpose is to sit in one's lap, granting them the perfect opportunity to wrap their cold, hard fingers around your throat… laughing all the while?
I know I'm not the only one with this affliction. I've seen a few Traumafessions here already dedicated to the topic of those firewood automatons. So, why then, do people seem to cringe and shudder at the sight of those ghastly puppets sitting in faux innocence on a shelf or under a stage light's glare? To be honest, I couldn't tell you. What I can tell you is that they've terrified me all my life. And they show no sign of stopping.
I believe my first memory of animated marionettes came to me while watching television with the family one afternoon. There was a clip from what I believed for the longest time was MAGIC, but later discovered to be the cheapie British chiller THE DEVIL DOLL. I distinctly remember seeing that little bastard Hugo in crackling black and white, his beady little eyes narrowed with murderous intent and a dagger in his crafted hand. "No, Hugo!" his master commanded. Slowly, the dummy withdrew his weapon and I withdrew into the cushions of the couch. If I hadn't been officially traumatized before then, I was now.
My elementary school library was not any help at all. During this time the GOOSEBUMPS series was all the rage, and it was these that helped foster my love for horror fiction. But though I could easily brave the horrors of MONSTER BLOOD and even face down the REVENGE OF THE LAWN GNOMES, there was one that I simply would not touch. NIGHT OF THE LIVING DUMMY. Or as I thought of it, NIGHT OF THE SLEEPLESS BOY. Slappy the Dummy sealed the deal for me, and the cover of his respective volume was enough to scare me when picking it off the shelf, let alone considering reading the damn thing.
Full-on evil was manifested in that diabolically grinning face, his blood-red lips lining pearly oak teeth that I knew would eagerly chomp at my fingers and toes if I wasn't careful reaching into dark closets or getting out of bed. As cheated as I might have felt to discover that the actual book only contained a cameo appearance by the demonic dummy at the very end (?!), that cover was enough to tell me all the horrible stories I needed.
It didn't stop there. I was continuously haunted by these monsters, and even a peaceful lunch of PB&J couldn't stop the shivery horrors of "The Dummy" episode of THE TWILIGHT ZONE from descending upon me. This was my first full viewing of a living-dummy story and I can never forget it. Even in the gleaming sunshine I was cold with terror, jumping every time that ringing, acidic cackle of the mischievous Willy erupted in Cliff Robertson's, and my own, paranoid mind.
Seeing Willy's eerie silhouette on the wall was a looming threat, a threat that I could hear lil' Willy himself whispering in my ear, "I know you see me, Jose. I want to let you know that I see you too. But you won't see me. Not at night, when I come to find you."
And still they persisted me. Even a film as unfortunately flawed as DEAD SILENCE can still get to me, still send waves of goosebumps down my arms. Walking down corridors, I can't help but wonder if that groaning creak I just heard was a stressed floorboard… or perhaps the sound of a dummy's foot stalking my shadow.
Who is it this time? Is it MICHAEL REDGRAVE's homicidal familiar from DEAD OF NIGHT (1945)? Is it the knife-wielding fiend from THE DUMMY ? Whatever foul creature it may be, they still bring on the trauma in me with the glint of their ceaseless smiles and the nod of their oiled throats. When I see them, I hear a sound, one that chills the marrow in my bones and makes me want to curl up in a sweating, terrified ball.
It's the sound of laughter in the dark.
UNK SEZ: Thanks Jose for sharing this ultimate ventriloquist dummy traumafesion! Folks, as long as you don't happen to be an animated ventriloquist dummy you are welcome to join Jose over at his main haunt MEPHISTO'S CASTLE as often as you please HERE! Tell 'em "Slappy" sent you!
Not my trauma… but it must be someone's. The image (above) is a screengrab from the music video for INFORMATION SERVICES by MOON WIRING CLUB, found on YouTube, which appears to consist largely of clips from strange stuff that once aired on British television.
Some of the images belong to a reportedly very scarring episode of PLAY FOR TODAY called Robin Redbreast, which is notorious for being Brit TV's HARVEST HOME/THE WICKER MAN and is a bit of a holy grail for fans of the weird and obscure, but I have had no luck at all tracking down whatever production this creepy image appeared in. I'm pretty sure it was a TV production, so chances are pretty good that someone out there saw it at an impressionable age and has been dreaming about it ever since, so I was wondering if you could post the pic and the YouTube (video) and, hopefully, some kind soul could finally satisfy my curiosity about this thing, whatever it is.
Love the site!
UPDATE: NAME THAT TRAUMA SOLVED! Kudos to reader chopmeup for naming it with the SUPERNATURAL (1977) episode "Dorabella."
It's time to go trick-or-treating again but why waste your time on houses that don't deliver? Here are twelve horror homes that we recommend avoiding!
12. HOUSE OF WAX
This place? The only "candy" they hand out are those wax soda bottles with colored juice inside. Unless you are a fan of those things, don't bother.
11. CREEPSHOW Billy's House
Don't be fooled by the pumpkin in the window! Billy's dad is cranky and not such a fan of horror in general.
10. HOUSE OF 1,000 CORPSES
Props go to the Firefly family for their year round commitment to Halloween decorations but unless you have time to sit through an amateur variety show, it's not worth the trouble.
9. HELL NIGHT (Garth Manor)
One two many Gorks. 'Nuff said.
8. TRICK 'R TREAT (Steven's house)
I should probably warn you about Principal Wilkins' house because he and his son Billy are liable to carve your decapitated head like a pumpkin but instead, I say stay away from Mr. Kreeg's place because he thinks generic peppermints are passable as treats!
7. THE HAUNTING (Hill House)
This place is far off the beaten track and once there nobody will be around if you need help. No one lives any nearer than town. No one will come any nearer than that. In the night. In the dark.
6. HALLOWEEN (The Myers house)
The place has been abandoned for years and not only will you not get any candy, you may bit hit by a stray rock thrown by an angry mob of Haddonfield locals!
5. FRIDAY THE 13th part 2 (Jason's shack)
Yes, hillbilly Jason has THE BEST Halloween centerpiece for his table in the form of the rotting decapitated head of his mother but other than that the place is still a shack and the candy he hands out is super low end (Mary Janes)!
4. PSYCHO 2 (The Bates house)
Speaking of dead mothers, you might as well skip Norman's house when trick or treating too. Not only are the front stairs a bitch to climb, but who in their right mind hands out toasted cheese sandwiches for treats?
3. POLTERGEIST (The Freeling house)
This house folded up into itself and then disappeared into another dimension and with no front door to knock on, it's really a waste of valuable trick or treating time.
2. THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE
This place offers the opposite of candy because the opposite of candy is being shoved on a meat hook. Am I wrong?
1. CARRIE (The White House)
Talk about evil! Rather than candy, Margaret White hands out Chick tracts!
BONUS TIP: If you find you've eaten too much Halloween candy this year just stop by THE CHANGELING (1980) house on November first! Nothing burns calories faster than running away from a ghost powered wheelchair!
Hello Kindertrauma,
I've been a fan of your site for a few months now. Name That Trauma is definitely my favorite section. I've had this on my mind for a while now, and finally broke down and decided to submit this one.
I think it came out in the early 1980s, and may have been an After-School Special, or maybe a kids show on HBO or Showtime. It didn't scare me or anything, but it stuck in my head for some reason because it was a little bit disturbing. I'm hoping this is an easy one:
There were two kids involved, a boy and a girl, maybe around 10 years old. They had a shrunken head and a pan flute, and I think there may have been bongo drums too. The kids would play these instruments and the shrunken head would come to life and talk to them. I have no idea what the plot was.
Please help me out here.
Thank you,
— Merk H.
UPDATE: NAME THAT TRAUMA SOLVED! Kudos to reader Barry Meyer for stepping up to the plate with THE BOY WITH TWO HEADS (aka CHICO THE RAINMAKER)!
The black curtain opens up on an autumn breeze knocking DEAN CUNDEY's camera out of a tree. "The Chordettes" facetiously beg Mr. Sandman to deliver Ben Tramer but that high school dream is doomed to be crushed between a parked van and a speeding police car, only his perfect teeth survive the explosion. We have been promised "More of the Night He Came Home" and "The Nightmare Isn't Over!" but this direct continuation begins by putting its workman boots on the wrong feet. Shot seven (?) times, "The Shape" falls into the Doyle front yard rather than the back. It takes three years for a town to change in one moment. This is bizarre-o Haddonfield where razors hide in apples and your sister wears a wig. Everything is familiar but not exactly right.
We may have strayed off the path but who doesn't want to be here? Long monolithic shadows lay all over the place, crappy paper decorations abound and suburban backstreets transform into mazes lit only by the occasional orange glow of an expertly carved jack-o-lantern. Costumed tykes gallop the streets at whatever odd hour it may be and every radio and TV set is tuned to a horror station. Is there an impromptu carnival forming or is that an angry mob? There's no need for murderer at large Michael Myers to loom in the background. Inspired by the evening's showing of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, he walks deliberately center stage, a floating white death skull with albatross commitment. Slippery blood is about to poor. It's later than we think.
Oh Haddonfield, earlier this evening, three years ago, you where the epitome of good wholesome small town values, my how you have fallen. Sheriff Hackett, your daughter is dead and you are the last to know. You'll be no help tonight. Just go home. Mr. and Mrs. Strode, I once had faith in you. Why can you not be reached by phone? You must have heard what's going on; don't you wonder where Laurie is? "I told you I'm not your mother!" Why the harsh angry tone? What's the point of having a secret adoption when you're going to drag your young daughter to the sanitarium to visit her unknown sibling anyway? Are these literal flashbacks or symbolic dreams? Oh Haddonfield, why have you washed your hands of your children? Why do you trust your infants to be watched by nurses who exit their posts in order to have sex in therapeutic hot tubs with undesirable pot smoking ambulance drivers? The Doctor is in…toxicated! Get it together town!
At the end of the day (or night), HALLOWEEN II is too stuffed with jolly holiday paraphernalia not to sink into and enjoy, though critics who take it to task for its shallow shuffle have a point. Yep, more bloodshed abounds than in the prudent original but its reputation for gore mongering is relative and exaggerated. The film's strong suite is its Achilles' heel and that would be its Tiger-Beat infatuation with killer Michael. Myers will never cut quite such an impressive form as he does here, but there's no room in the spotlight for anyone else. The cards are stacked in his favor to such a degree that every other character seems chained to an invisible radiator. The cops are not allowed to act as cops would, the hospital staff is not allowed to function as humans might and heroine Laurie Strode is drugged and denied not only her right to fight but also her personality as well; her soul replaced by random snapshot images of her connection to her attacker, her voice crushed down to a whine. We should give her a break though, she must be exhausted.
Maybe it's best that Laurie sat this one out. HALLOWEEN II may not be the clean pure classic that the original is but as resume material for Michael's future work as a horror icon, it's certainly persuasive. Parts of it feel no deeper than an adolescent power fantasy, an oversized action figure crashing through shoeboxes to crush smaller dolls but where it may fail on a storytelling front, it still captures the rowdy spirit of the night securely.
Once upon a time I thought that the original HALLOWEENs 1& II were intertwined, two perfect bookends thicker than thieves. Now each year the two movies siblings grow further apart. The elder child (I) is still my pride and joy while the younger (2) is a delinquent I'm prone to make excuses for. One is thoughtful and sharp and the other is willfully crass but direct. For me it's easy to pick a favorite but so what? Who needs a world of perfect movies? The important thing is both share the same esteem for the 31st of October and Halloween is just as much a time for callow tricks as it is for tasty treats.
