











your happy childhood ends here!

Hey Guys,
Here's a Traumafession that I'm surprised no Gen-Xer has submitted yet…
In the summer of '77, my folks took me to the local drive-in to see ORCA. I was 8, so I'm not sure why my parents felt like a JAWS rip-off about a killer whale munching on people was appropriate. Another neglectful yet nostalgic chapter of '70s parenting…
Anyway, my Trauma is the scene that triggers Orca to feast on RICHARD HARRIS' crew (and BO DEREK's leg):
HARRIS accidentailly harpoons Orca's pregnant mate and reels her up to his boat's deck. While she's hanging there, she miscarriages — in blood-spurting slow motion — as she squeals in agony.
The baby whale plops to the deck, and what does Harris do? He hoses the poor little critter over the side like so much chum!
I was barely learning about the birds and the bees at age 8, so seeing all this water-mammal miscarrying mayhem unfold on a huge drive-in screen definitely scarred me for many moons to come.
(Shameless plug: Read my review of ORCA HERE.)



I've been burned too many times to be picking out china patterns just yet, but I feel like me and THE WALKING DEAD have the goods to go the distance. The new AMC zombie series (literally) starts with a bang demolishing any worries that television restrictions would render its undead denizens dry and bloodless. As much as I appreciate the gory generosity on display, I stand more impressed by the introduction of a genre lead that exudes depth in the face of death. ANDREW LINCOLN, as sheriff deputy Rick Grimes, got me wrapped around his finger early on stumbling out of a hospital and responding to the mass destruction in front of him as an actual human being might.
Not to get all BONNIE TYLER on your ass, but I feel like I've been kind of starving for a male hero in a horror piece who's deeper than a tuna can. Excluding psychopaths (cross-dressing or otherwise), it's slim pickings from where I'm sitting (on my couch.) I feel like guys are not allowed to emit anything emotional for fear that it will be read as some kind of deficiency and it makes for me being sort of bored out of my skull a bunch. I guess there is some cultural imperative to keep dudes' yaps shut (you'll have to work all that out for yourselves, world) but in the meantime, the trickle down effect results in me yawning. I like this Rick Grimes protagonist, he makes mistakes, he's fallible and egad, there seems to be something going on both in his head and in his heart. He may have jumped out of a comic book but he's the antithesis of a cartoon. There's a scene in WALKING DEAD that gallantly balances absolute horror with equisite mercy and it has left me thinking that I will always remember where I was the first time I saw it.

You can attach any meaning to zombies that you wish. Their usual anonymity can represent the brain dead masses or the casualties of war. No matter how you approach them though (be they fast or slow), they will always have something to say about how we feel about our dead. Disgust, horror, fear, if you look hard enough you might just find guilt and sympathy too. We have been told a zillion times before that they are "us," yet the fact remains that we as viewers continue to line up to see "them." Thanks to this Rick Grimes person, THE WALKING DEAD might just change that. I may have to start routing for the living again.
Are Hallelujahs in order? Being between television shows to live vicariously through can be a painful experience for me. As much as I enjoyed the first two seasons of TRUE BLOOD, the last season turned on me and left me on the roadside. What was once a show about an outsider discovering an ostracized counter culture where her gifts were valuable became a show about choosing which out of four impossibly hot monsters to hump. (I can't relate to that because I've never had more than three impossibly hot monsters to select from.) I don't mean to call out TRUE BLOOD it's just that I found WALKING DEAD's glamor free tone ginger ale refreshing. There does seem to be a love triangle looming over the horizon but as long as they keep one dangling eye focused on entrails, decomposition and the tragedy and agony of death, I'll survive.
I can't compare THE WALKING DEAD in its new form to the comic book because I have, out of sheer laziness, never read the series but I can say that if the premiere episode is any indication that we may be about to experience something amazing. There is the potential here to breathe new horrific life into the leaning toward parody living dead genre but my attention may be less due to the gruesome element and more due to the human one. Slow or fast, zombies are a dime a dozen, THE WALKING DEAD's more significant offering may end up being a character who you honestly dread to see joining their ranks.

Ya see, back when I was a mere critter I got the idea to cut out all the movie ads for horror movies that I saw in the paper and luckily I decided to do this in the best year ever! I present to you today as a Halloween treat the first eight pages to be followed up with eight pages next Sunday and so on until the book is transformed completely into computer-flavored, cyber information! Please enjoy the young Lancifer's hard work as I can assure you that nobody did back when it was being assembled.
Have a Happy Halloween you good people of Kinder-land and remember: Do not eat food with razor blades shoved in it because then your throat will be shredded into strips and blood will come gushing out of your mouth and you can't scream because you are drowning in your own blood today!
(AUNT JOHN SEZ: To see the images at their full resolutions, click the thumbs and then control/right click on the image & select View Image. Just do it!)

UNK SEZ:: Today's funhouse is special because it also serves as my ten picks for the perfect Halloween movie marathon! I should tell ya up front though, I did NOT include the actual HALLOWEEN series or the ROB ZOMBIE re-duo because you should already know to watch those! Anyhows get started and you shall end up with a super deluxe, Unk-approved Halloween viewing schedule!












One of the most powerful aspects of HENRY JAMES's novella THE TURN OF THE SCREW is its elusive, hard to pin down nature. The story itself behaves in a ghostly manor, flittering and floating in and out of focus while cornering the reader into the position of questioning the validity of all they encounter. JACK CLAYTON's TRUMAN CAPOTE-penned, FREDDIE FRANCIS (THE ELEPHANT MAN)-lensed cinematic adaptation has a similar modus operandi (although it does throw us an extra bone of solid information by giving our protagonist, at last, a name.) The big question seems to be whether nervous governess Miss Giddens (DEBORAH KERR) is, in actuality, encountering the supernatural or whether she is, in fact, insane. Are the apparitions real or only in her head? After a recent watch I have come to the conclusion that Giddens is bat shit bonkers regardless of whether the "abominations" are real or not.

Having zero experience in childcare, Miss Giddens is hired to take care of two neglected orphans by their emotionally stunted playboy uncle. He gives her complete control of their well being provided he doesn't have to hear about it and she swoons and coos like a Victorian TWILIGHT fan at his glacial unavailability. He asks her if she has an imagination and she replies with the understatement of the century "Yes." I don't mean to be too hard on Giddens, I know she means well, but once you get to know her you realize that her masochistic longing to be lost in the shadow of something larger than herself has catastrophic results. Really, if the children left under your charge have only a fifty percent survival rate, you should expect a certain amount of criticism.

The fact that Gidden's loose screws need a few extra turns is evident from the start. Taking her humble pastor's daughter background into account, Gidden's overwhelmed reaction to the wondrous country estate she is to oversee is understandable. What's less comprehensible is her exaggerated enchantment with not only her employer but his niece and nephew. If she's to be an authority figure she's off on the wrong foot, routinely claiming to be swayed this way and that by the charms of others. It sets up a precedent that weaves through the entire tale; that Giddens herself is unaccountable for her actions. Her dealings with young Flora (PAMELA FRANKLIN) seem, at first, natural enough but when Flora's sibling Miles is expelled from school for vague reasons her bearings begin to wobble. This is when her previously mentioned "imagination" gets revved up and Gidden's imagination has the tendency to conjure up the worst possible scenario whenever it is given space to do so.

By her own account Giddens was raised under close scrutiny in a space too small for secrets. Suddenly the world is open to her and her mind can travel to wherever it chooses. She states that children need, "someone to belong to them and to whom they belong" but like many a neurotic the wants and desires that she projects upon others are, in reality, her own. Gidden's unwarranted enthrallment to the children's uncle flares clear as day. A fire is sparked but it needs to be fed to burn. Her feelings, like clipped flowers, require a vase. While playing hide and seek with the children, Giddens comes across an old photo of a striking dark eyed man. She has found the vessel for her desires, desires that scare the bejeezus out of her. For perhaps the first time in her life Giddens is in a position of power and her longings undermine her newfound sense of control. Every bonehead move she makes from here on out is a misplaced attempt to regain equilibrium and command. The witch-hunt has begun, there are dark forces about and she alone can sense them. She becomes the personification of the adage that when you point a finger at someone else you have four fingers pointing back at yourself.

As it was then and as it ever will be, the best method of crafting an impenetrable cloak of immunity is to state that your actions are "for the children." Giddens hysteria is allowed to breed unchecked once her righteous motives are declared. She grills the housekeeper Mrs. Grose for any morsel of deviance she can unearth. Peter Quint, the man in the photo and Miss Jessel the former governess (who was not as pretty as Giddens by the way) had an illicit affair before they both kicked the bucket. We are told that Quint (not unlike the children's uncle) had a mesmerizing power that made resistance to his will futile. Their love was a "sickness" and who knows the horrors that the two innocent children witnessed. Giddons and Grose's exchange plays out like an over the clothesline gossip exchange between BEWITCHED's Mrs. Kravitz and THE SIMPSONS' Helen Lovejoy. Giddens can barely hide her lady boner under her hoop skirt of scandalized indignation.

To me, Miss Giddens shows her hand clearly and I'm not buying her, "For the children" catchall excuse in the slightest. She's not concerned that the children may have been traumatized. She doesn't care that they are in a state of mourning. It doesn't even register that the children have made no complaint of ill treatment. Her choice of wording, that the children have been "contaminated" is such a red flag, it's a wonder she's not trampled by a wayward bull. She seems more concerned that the children have a wanton knowledge that she is not privy to and her efforts to make them confess that supposed knowledge is unforgivable. The way she tries to force Flora into saying that she sees the ghost of Miss Jessell, someone whom Flora was close to and who died within the past year, resembles the type of forced coercion you might find in a police interrogation. When Mrs. Grose admits that she didn't see the phantom either, she is promptly accused of betrayal. Giddens eventually puts her foot down. It is made clear that she is in charge of the house and by some spurious extension, in charge of what everybody sees or does not see.

Again, whether the ghosts are real or unreal, is to me, beside the point. It's Miss Giddens reaction to what she perceives which should be scrutinized. I don't blame her for being unnerved by the uncanny but her sightings of these entities, even if accepted as authentic, are generally neutral. No real threat is ever made and she pulls her assumptions about possession and the children's complicity right out of the air. Even more telling is her magical solution to her imagined crisis, everyone must simply admit that she is right and it will all go away. People tell you who they are and Giddens is never in deeper focus then when she states "My father taught me to love people and help them. Help them even if they refuse my help and even if it hurts them sometimes."

Giddens does indeed hurt Miles and she hurts Flora as well, that is what tends to happen when someone unable to face their own demons, projects them onto somebody else. Conspiracy and possession theories aside, Giddens does exhibit a particular fear of Miles. Their intimacy level is disturbing overall but when things come to a head he calls her on the fact that she does not see him as "normal." It's easy for the viewer to read Miles' sophistication as creepy but his adult demeanor carries an extra worry for Miss Giddens. Before his light is snuffed out he exposes Giddens' worst fret of all, that she's fooled no one and that her pleads for compliance reveal her fear that she is going mad.

As Giddens sees or imagines Quint's laughing visage nodding in approval, Miles sends the point home calling her a hussy and a dirty-minded hag. She rationalizes it's the voice of Quint but perhaps it's merely the up ‘til then AWOL voice of reason. That may sound harsh, and I'm not unmoved by Giddens' momentary flash of understanding of the horror she herself has caused but the fact remains that she had many chances to rethink her route and ignored them. I think her real fear of Miles may have come from the idea that he, unlike the impressionable and uneducated Mrs. Grose and his younger sister, could see right through her. Maybe Miss Giddens is easily swayed and charmed but Miles is another story.
The final question may be why does Giddons when offered a newfound freedom cower at the foot of her own desires? Is her strict religious background to blame? Check out her expression when Flora relates her understanding that a ghost is one that God has judged to be "bad" and has thus been "left behind" and then get back to me.

Please don't misinterpret my condemnation of Giddens as a critique of the film. It's a truly brilliant piece of work and as far as ghost stories go it's only peer is ROBERT WISE's THE HAUNTING which it predates. If you want to wait for a superior take on the HENRY JAMES story prepare to wait forever. Besides being a visual stunner, its use of sound is absolutely extraordinary and remains influential to this day (THE INNOCENTS is even sampled in the cursed tape from 2002's THE RING.)
Director CLAYTON deserves big ups for not pushing too strongly one way or the other and allowing the viewer to choose their own path and decipher the images however they choose. The two child actors, MARTIN STEPHENS (VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED) and PAMELA FRANKLIN (THE LEGEND OF HELL HOUSE) give unforgettable performances and DEBORAH KERR as Giddens has an intense sincerity that convinces you to the core. KERR is so good that I believed her and Miss Giddens the first dozen or so times I saw THE INNOCENTS. I guess being bombarded by hysterical propaganda and fear mongering on television all these years has had its benefits. Somewhere along the line I've learned to worry less about the steely glint in the theoretical Quint's eye and worry more about the fanatical frenzy in the eyes of the very real Miss Giddens.



It's that time of year again when I usually jump on a soapbox and plead with the civilized world for the banning of Mary Jane candy. Since all of my previous efforts to rid the Mary Jane scourge from trick or treat bags across the land have gone widely ignored thus far, I have chosen to take a different, more dignified path.
My imaginary friend Cloister, the three-eyed donkey often says, "Why be a negative Nellie when you can be a positive swellie?" Now, I usually don't listen to Cloister because Cloister also says things like, "Take the money!" "Put your hand in the fire!" and "Push Aunt John off the step stool!" but this time I think Cloister has a point. Instead of talking about the Halloween candy I hate why not talk about the candy I love?
Because C3-PO would be intolerable without R2-D2 I elicited the help of the legendary and by all accounts very real Kinderpal Mickster (Check out Mickster in Halloween garb HERE!) to aid in my venture into the world of not bitching about the grossest candy ever made, the Mary Jane. Both Mickster and I both thought long and hard and picked our favorite five Halloween candies. Below you'll find our choices and please keep them in mind when selecting what to distribute from you door this Halloween. Yo, Mickster, you're up first!

MICKSTER'S CANDY TOP FIVE
Reese's Peanut Butter Cups: Hey, you got your chocolate in my peanut butter…you got your peanut butter in my chocolate…two great tastes that taste great together! The orange packaging of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups makes me feel all warm and Halloweenie inside!
Candy corn: Whenever I see the yellow, orange, and white of candy corn, I automatically think of Halloween. Mmm-yummy sugar goodness!
Caramel Apples: Delicious and sticky caramel apples remind me of the Halloween Carnival at my elementary school. I looked forward to that carnival every year! Unfortunately, it is now called a "Fall Festival." I say boo and hiss to that! I would never accept a caramel apple trick-r-treating because of the trauma of seeing that kid's tongue in HALLOWEEN II.

Fun-sized candy bars: Fun-sized Snickers are simply fantastic! However, I am cautious if a hippie offers me one because of the warning given by Harris on the Tricks and Treats episode of FREAKS AND GEEKS. He warned Sam, Neil, and Bill that evil hippies were replacing fun-sized candy with chocolate-covered poop! Grody to the max!
Tootsie Pops: How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie roll center of a Tootsie Pop? I'll never know because like Mr. Owl from the classic commercial, I cannot resist crunching after lick number three!

UNK'S CANDY TOP FIVE
Lemon Heads: I've always related to Ferrara Pan's Lemon head candies. Like me, they are cheap as hell. Plus, I know I have a giant head even though most people avert their eyes and are polite about it. It's O.K., I've accepted it, we can't all be CHRISTOPHER GEORGE. I was once upon a time also a fan of Cherry Clan candies too but those dudes had to go away because one day everybody realized that they were racist.
Kit Kat bars: I probably sound like a commie pinko that you would like to burn at the stake but my opinion is that chocolate is no big thing. I don't hate it or anything; I just don't understand the crazy, Pavlovian response it usually gets from people. What's the big deal? It is rare or something? The stuff is everywhere. I would think coconut would be more of a delicacy because you have to scrape it out of that hairy shell. Anyway, I cannot fault the Kit Kat bar as it transcends chocolate's usual limitations with the help of that crispy wafer thing shoved inside it.
Smarties: These seem kind of like a rip off and sort of taste like chalk but they never fail to remind me of Halloween. Also, a little known fact is that they actually do make you smarter if you eat enough of them.

Sour Patch Kids: I blame all the suffering in my youth from the fact that Sour Patch Kids were not invented yet.
Bottle Caps: Bottle Caps are delicious like nobody's frickin' business and they taste fuzzy. Word on the street is that even people who hate root beer flavor candy enjoy root beer flavored Bottle Caps. These days it seems like they are only around during Halloween and can only be found in Willy Wonka assortment bags. I miss the classic squashed head packaging myself but I'll take them anyway I can!
Now it's your turn! Speak now or forever hold your peace. What is your Halloween Candy Top Five? Let us know what you like so that we'll be sure to hand it out this Halloween!
