Author: unkle lancifer
Traumafessions :: Mike of What I Watched Last Night on The Child Molester
What I was about to experience was so frightening that it would seem like a punishment. Mom was concerned about what we were both about to go through and it showed on her face. We were there to see a movie about two little girls who took candy from a stranger and got into his car. The ending was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen; the girls' bodies lay, sprawled on the ground, looking like lumps of bloody meat wrapped in children's clothing. The tiny actors were dressed like real murder victims, whose bloody crime scene photographs were used. The bloodied childrens' corpses drove home the point that THIS WAS NOT JUST A MOVIE, it was real.
I was never sure if this actually happened or was one of the frightening dreams I was prone to until I found it by accident on the Internet. My recollections were correct, even down to the clothes the children wore. The movie was called THE CHILD MOLESTER, a public service announcement made by the Highway Safety Foundation in 1964 and shown in elementary schools around America for several years to educate parents and children about the dangers of talking to strangers.
NOTE: For the expanded version of Mike's traumafession check out his blog WHAT I WATCHED LAST NIGHT!
UNK SEZ: Mike, thanks for your traumafession and for informing us about this scary public service movie. I made the colossal mistake of watching it HERE and it's one of the creepiest things I have ever seen. I can't believe they showed this movie to kids!
I can understand them showing it to parents as a way to ensure they talk to their children about these matters, but showing that movie to kids is insane! The images at the end are completely indefensible. From what I read, you are part of a small unfortunate club as the film was pulled from circulation by the HIGHWAY SAFETY FOUNDATION shortly (and rightfully) after its release.
Now, thanks to you, I must now watch an episode of THE GILMORE GIRLS to counter the effects of what I have witnessed.
Kinder-News:: Paul Naschy Blogathon is Now!
UNK SEZ:: Don't forget our pals over at MAD MAD MAD MAD MOVIES are hosting a PAUL NASCHY BLOGATHON right over HERE!
The Initiation of Sarah (1978)
THE INITIATION OF SARAH (1978) may be wearing CARRIE's hand me downs but I don't think that's such a damnable thing. There are worse fates than knowing exactly what to expect from a movie and can there ever be too many stories about psychic nerd revenge? Being born for television broadcast prevents SARAH from going hog wild or stomping on too many toes. You'll find no skewering of religious fanaticism here; pigs blood is replaced by mud (and rotten tomatoes) and a sweaty work out will have to do as a stand in for sex. BRIAN DePALMA's classic needn't fret being usurped by this imitator anytime soon but let's be real here, there's only one movie in the world that features the unsinkable SHELLEY WINTERS and employs two of the world's most notable MORGANs (We're talking FAIRCHILD and BRITTANY.) Yes, this also-ran may as well be titled THE IMITATION OF CARRIE but it endures thanks to its fetching cast.
KAY LENZ (who will later star with CARRIE alum WILLIAM KATT in 1986's HOUSE) is our wallflower Sarah. She's a real uggo I guess on account of she wears oversize sweaters. We understand that Sarah is special from the first scene when she stops her more socially acceptable stepsister Patty (BRITTANY) from being raped ten feet in front of her on a beach. Rather than merely yelling "Hey, stop raping my sister in front of me!" Sarah uses her crazy power to knock the guy on his ass. INITIATION may fall infinity short of the emotional depths to be found in BRIAN DePALMA's take on STEPHEN KING's novel but the relationship between these two sisters, one with the opportunity for larger acceptance and one without, is actually pretty interesting in a BASKET CASE kind of way. In fact, Sarah's interactions with others may be what ultimately rescues this movie from the superfluous retread zone.
Once in college, Patty is accepted by a highfalutin, snobby sorority lead by tweezer-faced glamorpuss Jennifer (the FAIRCHILD) and Sarah is relegated to a dumpy sorority of theoretically drab outcasts. We're lead to believe that Patty is the fortunate one in this scenario, but I beg to differ. I admit that the idea of FAIRCHILD forcing me to don hobo drag and beg for change has always been a fantasy of mine but I still think Sarah receives the better deal. She gets to live in a gothic mansion helmed by creepy Mrs. Hunter (brilliantly insane WINTERS) and her roommates include Alberta "Mouse" (Italian horror staple TISA FARROW of ZOMBIE & the underrated says me, THE GRIM REAPER), butch, Izod clad Allison (slick chick TALIA BALSAM of the underrated says me THE KINDRED), and groovy Barbara ( Yay! Plunger gal NORA HEFLIN of the BLAIR-tastic BORN INNOCENT!) For all of Sarah's supposed awkwardness, she's also often seen canoodling heavily with dreamy assistant teacher Paul Yates (future MY BODYGUARD director TONY BILL.) Add to all that gravy the fact that Sarah has coveted psychic powers and I'm hardly convinced that hers is the sticky end of the lollipop. All Patty gets is the opportunity to watch Jennifer manipulate DONNA PESCOW's future squeeze ROBERT HAYS. (Yes, that's an ANGIE reference. Holla, Philly!)
Anyways, Patty and Sarah's sororities have a long history of hating on each other and it puts a giant wedge in their once simpatico relationship. Eventually Sarah starts developing a backbone and throwing grand pianos at her sister and dunking bitch Jennifer in a fountain. Her new found moxie is an inspiration to her sorority sisters and to her house mother who wisely decides to harness Sarah's hate to put an end to the rivalry but unwisely decides to use beloved Mouse as a human sacrifice in a garden maze ritual. Ultimately many things catch on fire and FAIRCHILD's face gets crusty.
If you are looking for simple entertainment, INITIATION is a fluffy success. It's a veritable late night classic and the scene involving FAIRCHILD's fountain comeuppance is highly memorable and plenty o' fun. Still, it's unquestionably undercooked and rough around the edges. I'm convinced that SHELLEY's character is, in fact Sarah's real mom, but for some reason that revelation is never exploited or properly addressed. I'm also of the thinking that SHELLEY's witchcraft is the cause of an injury that befalls "Mouse" but we're never allotted any acknowledgment or evidence in that area either and that would have helped too. Unable to fall back on gore or sex, the television movie's major strength comes in the form of characterization and story and these needlessly dropped threads leave a major dent.
This is a fun movie but there's no reason why it couldn't be more effective too. Unlike CARRIE's ultimate end, SARAH's feels strangely unfinished and substantially less satisfying. INITIATION may know whom to follow but it doesn't seem to understand why or where. As I said though, you do get WINTERS and two, count em', two legendary MORGANs and that ain't hay. Too bad SARAH is so oblivious to just how good she's got it.
NOTE:: This review is an important part of a nutritious breakfast AND it's a part of the FINAL GIRL FILM CLUB. For more on SARAH look HERE!
Kindertrauma Jukebox:: Dwarr's Screams of Terror
UNK SEZ:: I'm convinced this tune is the perfect Kindertrauma theme song! Thanks go to my dear old pal SCOTT for pointing me toward it!
Thanksgiving in Sunnydale
Urgh. Thanksgiving is not my favorite holiday. As much as I support murder when it involves electrocuting and burning alive your tormentors on prom night, murdering an indigenous people in order to swipe their real estate is kind of douchey. Maybe it's me but I'm not convinced that the yam with marshmallow dish everyone keeps raving about is all that delicious either. Plus there's the Kindertrauma holiday post dilemma to worry about. I really don't want to resort to that phony ELI ROTH trailer.
What I finally decided to do was just share with you a yearly ritual of mine, which is watching the BUFFY THE VAMIRE SLAYER episode "Pangs." This particular episode of BUFFY takes place on Thanksgiving and although it's hardly the strongest in the series, it does provide me with a certain amount of comfort. "Pangs" involves Indian warriors coming back to life through magical means to avenge their people. Like I just attempted, Wicca witch Willow makes comments condemning mass genocide but it sounds less annoying coming from her because she is a girl. It may not be BUFFY's shiniest hour, but it is the only hour of hers that involves turkeys, syphilis ad somebody turning into a bear.
While watching "Pangs" this year I started thinking about my long history with Buffy and, as I did, a memory resurfaced that, as it turns out, specifically involves Thanksgiving. Picture it. Philadelphia, mid-nineties, your Unk is living far from home and all of his so-called pals have other plans for the holiday that don't include him. One friend, let's call him "Spike" was in the same gravy boat so plans were made that we would spend Thanksgiving together. It should be noted that I may have had a thing for "Spike" at the time. In fact, I know I did because he had a physical impairment and was morbidly self-involved and I know that's how I rolled back then. So I cooked, I cleaned and I stocked the fridge with suds. Spike never showed though, he called me very late from a bar and he said he'd be there soon and then he STILL never showed. Cram a yam, I got stood up!
The toasty festive atmosphere began to curdle rapidly. The universe was pouring vinegar in my eggnog. I don't know why it hit me so hard. Why was the carpet not only pulled out from under me but also set on fire and placed over my head? A giant black vortex opened in the wall and tried to suck me through it. My instantly massive loneliness crushed down like a cartoon anvil. There I was, by myself, during a national holiday with an excess of alcohol and nothing to do but stew. Eventually my depression grabbed me by the nape of my neck and led me to the only fire escape not guarded by demonic trolls, the television…
I caught on to BUFFY early in its run but somewhere I had lost it. I must have hallucinated that I had more pressing things to do. Suddenly, it was the only thing on T.V. and I had no idea what was going on in the series by now but I was going to watch it anyway. The episode was from the third season and it was called "Amends." In it, Angel, the cursed vampire, is worn down with guilt and remorse to the degree that he goes to a hillside to await the sunrise so he can turn to dust. He has decided the world would be better off without him so why not? Buffy confronts him and tells him everybody goes through the same crap and screws up all the time and the important thing to do is just fight and most of all, that she's got his back (or something to that effect.) Talking Angel off the ledge takes too long though and with dawn breaking it doesn't seem like he'll make it indoors to safety in time. Then something happens, the sun won't be rising at all (Did I mention it's Christmas?) because for the first time ever in fictional Sunnydale's history, it's starting to snow…
I'm a lame-o and a light touch and snow is my Achilles heel forever. There I was munching down on mega melancholia and I just happened to stumble upon this cure. I wasn't so much moved as transferred to the other side of the psychological globe. That night's episode of BUFFY ended in the same way as that night's episode of UNKY, with divine intervention. I wasn't depressed at all anymore; I had a new favorite show.
After that I fanatically and ravenously caught up with all of the episodes of BUFFY I had missed and followed it to its (sob) conclusion in 2003. (My viewing of "Amends" did not take place during its original airing but during a repeat marathon of sorts.) I guess it might make more sense to watch that fateful episode "Amends" this time of year rather than "Pangs" but the latter fits in more with where I'm at today. The characters on BUFFY became my friends and family during a time when I really was for the most part alone in the world and watching them gather for Thanksgiving is strangely like gathering alongside them. I'm almost ashamed to admit this (and by almost I mean not really) but for a while I was consciously aware of the show surpassing the real world in importance to me. If you are a nerd with a favorite show you either know what I mean or are not as much as of a nerd as you think you are.
This post is a toast, a toast to my make believe family I guess. This Thanksgiving I give thanks to the Scoobies, for always being just a play button away.
So, what happened with that dude "Spike," the guy who left me at the cranberry sauce alter, high and dry on a cold night staring at a room temperature bird? I forgave him. While I'm talking about being thankful I might as well go that extra, after-school-special mile and talk about forgiveness too. I know carrying a grudge is more fashionable but I'm thankful that I ended up letting bygones be bygones. A year or so later he made "amends" and introduced me to Aunt John.