Category: General Horror

I caught LIFEFORCE back when it first appeared on VHS and was none too impressed with it. I've always avoided it as a positive example of TOBE HOOPER's work due to my unfavorable memory of it. Then the other night it slunk into my living room via the MGM HD channel*. It happened to be the longer cut of the movie with its original HENRY MANCINI score fully intact boasting a new transfer overseen by HOOPER himself. LIFEFORCE is loony and it careens and wobbles around like a runaway bumper car. I don't blame myself for loosing my grip and falling off of it way back when. It asks you to accept some serious absurdity particularly in the acting department but if you're game, it's astounding or, at the very least, refreshingly bizarre. Color me a convert; I see it now as an epic genre smorgasbord so damn nice I had to watch it twice. Oh boy, I dig the opening & closing theme…

*As an aside allow me a moment to gush over the MGM HD channel. Because I love it so much, it is sure to betray me soon so let me rave and ramble before the curtain falls and I'm hit with a sandbag. Recently on MGM HD I have witnessed bile like SUPERBEAST and MONSTER DOG transformed into strangely watchable train wrecks, the piss poor TENTACLES resurrected as a camp classic with a killer soundtrack and borderline faves like SQUIRM and THE BELIEVERS vividly revitalized. They showed the still stunning (to me) STILL OF THE NIGHT which has never made it to DVD and even the elusive PREDATOR pre-dater WITHOUT WARNING which never even crawled onto VHS!

Can you imagine a high-definition KILLER KLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE? I admit that MGM-HD was incapable of changing my tune about CLIVE BARKER'S LORD OF ILLUSIONS, but I did end up with an appreciation for the scary DIAMANDA GALAS song that plays over its closing credits. If you don't have HD just ignore me but if you do, I need to tell you to make sure you check out this channel especially considering the VINCENT PRICE-heavy schedule they're threatening for October! Holy crap SHADOWS AND FOG is on as we speak! Try to tell me that's not a beautiful looking movie. Gush done.

Where was I? Oh yeah, LIFEFORCE is crazy! You really have to make sure you walk into this movie using the right door. If you go by the trailer's assertion that an ALIEN-like serpentine sci-fi horror flick is about to commence, you are sure to require a handkerchief for your multiple tears. LIFEFORCE I think is better off approached like a sweeping epic fantasy adventure that opens in heaven and closes in hell and along the way high fives a half dozen beloved sci-fi and horror devices and ends giving a big wet smooch to QUARTERMASS AND THE PIT.

It's not a simple movie, it does not walk a simple line and yes, it can't help coming off as semi-dopey thanks to the exaggerated earnestness of its major players. It's a weird mix and much like riding on the back of a cartoon unicorn, you simply have to lean into the turns or you'll be a miserable wreck. It's all very silly but get over it and you'll get a giant basket of candy.

Maybe if they had gone with the original title provided by the source material, COLIN WILSON's novel "SPACE VAMPIRES," folks could more easily accept this odd film's extravagantly pulpy disposition. Not that we're talking FLASH GORDON here, the learned WILSON's metaphysical take on vampirism is a deep well masquerading as a puddle.

Forget pointy fangs and blood loss, the LIFEFORCE parasites perform in such a manner as to remind me of my first ill fated marriage to the dead and buried Latino heart throb Aunt Hector. These vamps use your soul as a sippy cup and suck out your will to live. The peaceful release of merciful death is even wickedly withheld. It turns out your dehydrated corpse must then rise to perform the same atrocity to whoever is unlucky enough to get near you and then they are compelled to go do the same. Soon the world is 28 DAYS OF THE LOCUST LATER, all screaming zombie chaos. In other words, if you ever meet somebody who seems too good to be true it's probably because they are a giant bat demon spewed out of the tail of Haley's Comet… but you knew that already didn't you?

If you've ever entertained the notion that POLTERGEIST doesn't quite feel like a HOOPER movie, you've gotta check LIFEFORCE out. If I didn't know who was driving, I'm not sure who I'd accredit this divine madness to. Really, when people say a movie doesn't feel like HOOPER, don't they really mean that it doesn't resemble THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE? I've said it before that TCM is a perfect storm. If it only took talent to make such a thing there'd be masterpieces growing on trees. I think it's commendable that HOOPER doesn't drag around a stagnant voice, with this jaunt he howls at the moon.

I mentioned QUARTERMASS AND THE PIT (AKA FIVE MILLION YEARS TO EARTH) earlier. LIFEFORCE's climactic vision of the destruction of London due to alien sabotage strikes strongly as taken from the same mold. As I found myself succumbing to LIFEFORCE's fantastical grab bag of supernatural sci-fi salad I thought of the vast and necessary leap required to adore (or tolerate) HALLOWEEN 3: SEASON OF THE WITCH.

Both QUARTERMASS and HALLOWEEN 3 have a creative name in common, NIGEL KNEALE. KNEALE might rightfully tell me to blow it out of my ear but LIFEFORCE intentionally or not, bows towards him. I'd also like to out CARPENTER's semi-unofficial (the script was authored by CARPENTER pseudonym "Martin Quartermass") KNEALE tribute THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS as at least a spiritual sibling of LIFEFORCE with its metaphysical spine and its desire to peak behind the veil of the everyday and stare into a larger universal horror.

I'm rearing off topic I know. Let's talk about LIFEFORCE's cast. I would be remiss not to mention what grabbed many a viewer by the bullhorn and pulled them through this avalanche of outlandishness when it haunted eighties cable, one MATHILDA MAY. I can't say MAY is not well cast as a cold figment capable of inspiring slobbery servitude. Carrying the duel weapons of (cough!) scant dialogue and scant attire, MAY glides straight through the sometimes overstuffed laser show like a hot knife through margarine. Haters gonna hate but it's no easy feet to upstage an apocalypse. STEVE RAILSBACK needs less ham in his diet but has an overall convincing worminess that makes him ideal space babe fodder. PETER FIRTH is cotton candy clueless but the scenes of him running through London with gun drawn as zombies swarm are among my favorites in the film. You even get PATRICK STEWART speaking in tongues and forcing guys to make out with him. Do you need to know more than that? My favorite though may be FRANK FINLAY who I've never met before. Where have you been all my life FRANK? There's a scene near the end where he dismantles in front of a blood stained skyline and it's semi-jaw-droppy.

So's anyway suffice to say I now dig the LIFEFORCE. Any vague shame I might feel makes me desire this everlasting gobstopper of a film even more. B-movie invasion, vampire romance, zombie contamination, mind reading, possession, insane asylums, space ships, EGON SCHEILE paintings brought to life, near constant breaking glass and lasers blasts , all natural boobs for some, unsolicited PATRICK STEWART make out sessions for others. It's "out there" and "out there" movies are easy to rip to shreds. Personally I'm much happier getting high off of the secondary smoke that comes off the screen. Anyway, I'm chalking another one up for the HOOPER, movies don't have to be good to be great and this one (and particularly this HD edition) is infinity times better than I recall.

Some call CARNIVAL OF SOULS, the cheap as they come, sometimes poorly acted, sometimes barbarically edited, sometimes inadequately dubbed drive-in movie from 1962 a masterpiece and one of those "some people" is me. If you have never seen CARNIVAL OF SOULS before, rather than continue reading this flimsy appraisal, watch it HERE. I don't want to spoil the surprise ending for you even though chances are that just by reading the words "surprise ending" you instantly know the score. Watch it now. I'll still be here when you are done.

Yep, it's that OWL CREEK BRIDGE, "Guess what? You're dead!" zing again! Don't let that final reveal spoil the whole movie for you, back when CARNIVAL was released everybody and their brother SHYAMALAN hadn't milked the concept into oblivion yet. Honestly, I think you can just take that last scene out of the movie if you want. When all is said and done I'm not sure it really matters. It's not that unique to be "already dead." If you look far enough into the future every one of us is submerged in our own version of that car and we too are "already dead." Just because we are all dead in the eventual future is no reason to feel blue. Life is a carnival of rich and exciting experiences to enjoy. Not convinced? Get in line behind Mary Henry, the driving force of CARNIVAL.

CARNIVAL is a beautiful film; it's just plain cinematic poetry. Point out any flaw you like and I'll tell you how it only enhances the overall ambiance. Minimalist, pure, gushing with the title's promised "soul," this is a film that transcends beyond mere entertainment to become a work of art. Made by moonlighting educational filmmakers, CARNIVAL has the omnipotent gusto of a monument that built itself. Director HERK HARVEY was inspired by a chance sighting of an abandoned pavilion and writer JOHN CLIFFORD admits that the script came to his mind fully formed and seemingly wrote itself. In other words, the universe demanded this film be made so naturally it's a perfect beast that can be interpreted a zillion ways until the world explodes! We can go on and on about the stark, vivid photography, the haunting all-organ score and the film's vast influence (go ahead and imagine a world where CARNIVAL OF SOULS never came to be, just don't be surprised when some of your GEORGE ROMERO and DAVID LYNCH movies disappear too!) but let's move past that because more importantly in my opinion, there's something about Mary.

Mary Henry as portrayed by the STRASBERG trained beauty CANDACE HILLIGOSS is one of the most fascinating and unique characters in all of horror. With the exception of being easy on the eyes, Mary relies on none of the characteristics usually employed to gain audience sympathy and she's all the more remarkable for it. Mary is a play for pay church organist with an apathetic stance on religion. I'm thinking that in 1962 this may have appeared a worthy sin to conjure supernatural comeuppance but today she simply appears frank. She's clearly conscious of what she's supposed to say to please others but it's just not in her to do so. From what we get to know about Mary her stance makes perfect sense. Religion in a way requires you to give in to something bigger than yourself, to hand your reigns over to another force, something Mary is clearly loathe to do. Furthermore, anything that even vaguely tempts rhapsody might revolt her. Mary is just not feeling it.

Once again, the fact that Mary's experience is revealed to be posthumous does not matter. I'd say the nightmare maze she endures is an exaggerated display of her genuine feelings about her place in the world. Not only does she find no joy or solace in religion, she appears equally ambivalent about psychiatry, romance, alcohol and apparently ballroom dancing. She's basically crossed off and rejected every life-crutch in the book! The pinnacle of her dreads involves coupling with "the man." (Director HARVEY portrays "the man" I'm sure officially due to budget constrictions but in reality due to this film just can't stop being genius.) I'm sorry but Mary is some kind of wonderful. She's an existentialist outsider and if you think she's quick on her feet attempting to outrun death, just see how this gal books when she's trying to outrun life!

When we first encounter Mary Henry she is passively involved in a drag race that ends with her female companions dead. Next she's off to start a new life in a new town with a new job. Mary is a young woman who is just starting off in the world but the only thing she encounters in it is alienation. Various parental or authority figures attempt to maneuver her in the directions that they desire, to teach her the "rules of the game" but she just won't budge. It's tempting to chalk her position up to residue left by her accident but that just can't be the case. Mary has a distinct viewpoint, a firm, fully formed outlook that could not have come to her overnight. She's quite simply not buying whatever everybody is trying to sell her and the consequence of not going with the flow is exclusion. She adamantly states that she has little interest in the comfort or company of other people yet she eventually ends up yelling, "I don't want to be alone!" Oh, if only you could have it both ways Mary!

On the surface CARNIVAL glides around like a ghostly supernatural spook show but many of the scenes of horror we witness have more than a passing resemblance to what you'd expect to find in an alien "pod people" scenario. There are plenty of shots of Mary running down oppressive city streets obviously estranged from the general public and she eventually succumbs to being stomped out by a mob. Death is omnipresent but "death" means meshing and succumbing to the crowd. Above all else the message seems to be that she can either join/integrate or slowly cease to exist. I read the ghouls that chase her as dark shadow images of the "living" who are attempting to snuff her out with equal determination.

Mary experiences two specific dissociative episodes. On the surface they read like periods where death has caught up to her or foreshadows of her ultimate fate. The first occurs after a rare pleasant experience with another human being, a notably androgynous sales lady. Is Mary so rigid that she can't allow herself even a moment of pleasure? Has the saleswoman thrown her into homosexual panic? Mary's existential dilemma overrides such notions. I believe she has come to the reverse SEX AND THE CITY conclusion that the approved uniform offers her nothing and that low and behold, consumerism does not fill the void. Her plight to maintain her sense of identity is not aided by the purchase of a dress. Yet another life-crutch kicked to the curb.

During Mary's spell she spies workers jack-hammering in the street. The jack-hammers are powered by an engine marked "joy." Is this some heavy handed symbolism backing up the idea that Mary's issue is merely some sort of sexual repression? I see them more as accidental representatives of the oppressive forces trying to bully Mary into feeling something she doesn't.

Mary's next "loss of self" episode occurs when her primary bugaboo is triggered. Her car needs fixing and feeling vulnerable she asks if she can remain in it as it is repaired. As the car is placed in a lift and raised into the air, Mary has lost all control. (You can't blame her for freaking really, the last time Mary let someone else be in control of the car things didn't end up too good.) The underbelly of the vehicle is exposed and "the Man" draws closer. She is thrown into another frenzy of identity crisis and she ends up roaming the streets pleading to be acknowledged but invisible to all. This episode concludes like the first with Mary touching a tree and noticing a bird song in order to gain entry back to herself. Is Mary connecting to a more "natural" existence the answer?

If Mary wants to find a more "natural" existence she's going to have to do it on her own and with zero support from those around her. I believe we do get a glimpse of her with her guard down at one point as she is playing her organ. It's the closest thing to a sex scene we'll get. If you approach CARNIVAL as simple horror she seems possessed but if you consider her larger drama she is at last free. Mary "gets down" playing the organ. She is filled with spirit and soul as she free styles some crazy goth tuneage. (Her shoes even disappear. ) Her one act of full self expression is thwarted by a priest that reprimands her for being "blasphemous." Just like that bird in the tree, Mary does have a song to sing. It's just not a song that some people want to hear.

Women were under much societal pressure to conform to certain roles in 1962 but let's not throw out the universal baby with the feminist bath water. The world has expectations for all of us and those expectations are not always based on who we are as individuals. To me this is not a movie about death or heaven or hell and it's most certainly not about a fragile gal in need of the boinking cure. To me the real undercurrent of horror throughout comes from the fear of losing one's personal identity to the crowd and the counter fear of expulsion if one does not march in line. Ghouls or no ghouls, reality or dream, Mary buries the lede mid-film when she states simply, "I don't belong in the world."

It's possible that Mary was designed by her architects to be a cold, frustratingly distant glass blond. If that's the case they have happily failed, thanks in large part to the depths of HILIGOSS. I don't really care about a filmmaker's intentions anyhow. I'd never let a chef tell me what their food tastes like. If CARNIVAL is meant to be a simple, "You're dead!" ghost tale, well, I'm sorry guys, you screwed up and made something more. Victory and heroics do not necessarily walk hand in hand and regardless of her outcome I see Mary as a noble figure. Her sword is her ability to question the status quo and to reject the false identities that are thrust upon her by others. She may end up submerged in a car but like I said before, don't we all? I'll close with my favorite frame in the whole film. In the top right hand corner you'll see the face of the world's preferred version of Mary; dead or alive, the bottom left displays the enigmatic real deal.

Greetings, from your friendly neighborhood, unrepentant TOBE HOOPER apologist; I'm sorry but I kinda love 2004's TOOLBOX MURDERS. I know that's not the consensus but the heart wants what the heart wants. How can a movie from 2004 fill me with such nostalgic glee? I'm not sure, maybe because it's just so fabulously old school in its stance. No, there's nothing very revolutionary going on here, just a plain, mostly straightforward affair cooked medium rare and served garnish free, but I find it hits the spot all the same. I don't need any more than this. That'll do pig, that'll do. Oh, just allow me to break my affection down for you…

TOBE HOOPER

Give this guy a break will you? He drops the ball now and again but he knows what he's doing. There may not be anything as robust as the famous door slam from THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE in TOOLBOX but there's plenty to relish anyway. On several occasions HOOPER steers your attention one way and then slams you from another direction entirely, that's what I call a scare that's earned, baby. He knows what you expect and he likes to tease you. One of my favorite bits involves a bathroom medicine cabinet that is opened to reveal…nada. TOBE, you foiled the medicine cabinet scare! I could kiss you!

ANGELA BETTIS

What a spitfire. Imagine an unhinged HOLLY HUNTER fused with a robotic praying mantis and then set free to needle at will. BETTIS just fascinates and the horror world is a better place having known her. Her character here "Nell Barrows" is more tack sharp and caffeine restless than her usual wounded birds; she's a vintage observer who senses something afoul and won't be stifled. She is also quietly mourning the recent death of her father and am I reading too much into the movie to say her journey is all about confronting the ugly eventuality of the grave?

SUPPORTING CAST

BRENT ROAM is a refreshing change of pace from the lantern jawed Aryan dullards usually picked to play the rational boyfriend plus, if you ask me, he was born to wear scrubs. JULIET LANDAU is lead material and she is able to transform a sidekick part into something exceedingly sympathetic. SHERI MOON is SHERI MOON, she's got a Manson gal meets my hippy babysitter vibe that is too strong for me to resist. Go ahead and find her annoying if you must. I want her to read me a bedtime story and teach me how to smoke. RANCE HOWARD, father to RON and CLINT, is just plain Hollywood royalty and it's nice to see him treated as such within the film.

CINEMATOGRAPHY

Director of photography STEVE YEDLIN also shot MAY, so you know he's no slouch. There are some velvet black nighttime scenes spiked with wet, reflected colors and even the scant daytime scenes have an otherworldly, corrupt Garden of Eden quality. The interiors overall have a pungent air of romantic sleaze that bring to mind NAN GOLDIN photos. This is a low budget film that, to my eyes, looks top of the line even as it's delighting in dilapidation.

THE AMBASSADOR HOTEL

Playing the role of the creepy Lusman Arms apartment complex is the legendary AMBASSADOR HOTEL. THE AMBASSADOR has appeared in hundreds of movies from A STAR IS BORN to SE7EN and it just drips history and personality. It was demolished by a bunch of idiots in 2006 and this is one of its last few cinematic appearances. I'm adding this title to the ever growing list in my head that says when it comes to creating horror there are three important things to consider… location, location, location.

THE STORY

Not unlike delicious Razzles brand treats which are first a candy and then a gum, TOOLBOX is first a slasher and then a supernatural shocker with a SUSPIRIA boner. I dig the MULHOLLAND DRIVE-light "Hollywood's gonna stomp your dream" theme that weaves through it too. Traditionally, in name only remakes make me see red but in this case I call it kosher. TOOLBOX is not trying to be a more modern, hipper version of the original and it ends up offering a denser mythology than the previously existing one. As much as I appreciate the original and its outstanding cast, I'm glad this doesn't go down the same torturous trail.

THE KILLER

"Coffin Baby" as named by HOOPER, is a creepy and intimidating creation with a tasty back-story to sink your teeth into. We're given enough information to intrigue but not so much that we feel he's completely pinned down or knowable. TOBE does a crackerjack job of never allowing the viewer too much time to focus on the killer's mug but delivers enough so that you don't feel completely cheated either. We're dealt pieces and splinters only, leaving our brains to assemble and assume the worst. Like many a great monster, Coffin Baby, as the looser in a Faustian deal, has got his cursed tragic side too. His giddy victory dance exuberance after disintegrating a victim's face with lye makes me want to get to know him better. Last I heard there was a sequel in the making, speed it up!

THE KILLS

If you check out the deleted scenes on TOOLIE's DVD you'll see some classic, over-the- top, blood splattery kills that were sadly dumped in order to obtain a useless "R" rating. Considering the film's nearly nonexistent theatrical life this is sort of like chopping off your nose to go to a dance at a country club that won't let you in. Filmmakers please don't bow down to the antiquated "R," better you should save your bloody charms for the more appreciative home viewing crowd. I'm not saying the "R' rated TOOLBOX is too weak, just that the difference between seeing a drill going into a head and a drill going into head and then coming out of a mouth is a big one for gore fans like me.

ALL IN ALL

TOOLBOX is really one of the better films that came out of the 2000's if you believe my notoriously indiscriminate opinion. In fact, I suspect that only ageism and anti-HOOPER sentiment keeps it from being heralded as such. If this movie was released with the false claim that it was directed by a young first timer named, say "Travis Hasbro" everybody would be all over the place claiming "Travis Hasbro" was the next big thing. Well, fuck Travis Hasbro, TOBE HOOPER is the man. I hate it when people call the director of THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, SALEM'S LOT, THE FUNHOUSE, the seriously underrated EATEN ALIVE, and POLTERGEIST for Pete's sake (not to mention superior episodes of THE OTHERS and TAKEN) a "one hit wonder." It's called counting, my friends. I'm not blind to HOOPER's duds but I think it's preferable for an artist to create some great and some bad rather than all mediocre.

NITPICKS

Just to prove I'm not all puppies and rainbows (actually, I am) here are a few, special bonus nitpicks for you cranky folks out there! Sometimes the movie may be a bit too dark (particularly during the kills), some of the sideline characters are a bit too cartoonish and dilute the tone, the closing BUDDHA STALIN song blows chunks and whoever chose the hideous glowing SLIMER fonts for the opening and closing credit sequences needs to be retroactively fired. There, I'm out! Here's hopin' I see you again soon Coffin Baby!

There ain't no cure for the summer time blues but 1981's GHOSTKEEPER works as a mighty fine placebo. Director JIM MAKICHUK thankfully resists gilding the lily and permits the frozen Canadian landscape to play its own chilly tune. There's no spray-on frost on these windowpanes. Snow encrusted trees tower like glittering skyscrapers and we're shown that walking a few feet through the accumulation is a feat in and of itself. Filmed on location in a preexisting lodge/hotel, the devil's in the details everywhere you look. Some accuse this movie of being a poor man's THE SHINING but you'll find no clean, calculated imagery here, it's all very worn and haggard and the dark, damaged indoor photography reads like bad memories better left avoided. There's a vibe established and it's pretty powerful even if the spine of GHOSTKEEPER is frustratingly brittle.

Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before; malfunctioning vehicles result in the seeking of shelter in a seemingly abandoned whatever. Hoary as it may be, this is my jam; this is my favorite song on the radio. Let me introduce you to Jenny (RIVA SPIER) an introverted doormat-in-training who lives in fear of losing control like her insane mother once did. Then there's Marty (MURRAY ORD) her too casual boyfriend who understands that ambivalence is the sharpest knife in the drawer when tormenting your partner. Our "three's a crowd" trio even comes complete with a bubbly flirtatious blonde ripe for punishment named Chrissy (SHERI McFADDEN). I think we're meant to dislike Chrissy, but thank God she's present. Sure, she's a floozy and macking on Marty but at least she's lively. It's New Year's Eve gang, lighten up!

These characters don't sound particularly likable because they're not but their dysfunction adds to the grim mood. There doesn't seem to be any space for gallantry and we sense early on that Jenny stands alone. The three eventually encounter the caretaker of the hotel, a foreboding older woman (an invaluable GEORGIE COLLINS) who apparently buys her apparel at "Gap for witches." The crone wastes no time sprouting ominous warnings and suggestively compliments Jenny on her "inner strength." I don't want to give away the ending but there's a bit of a lift from THE HAUNTING going on here. Jenny is being groomed and her so-called "inner strength" seems to be her advanced ability to stay tight-lipped while catering to others. The point is made that Jenny is a seasoned pro at keeping certain monsters at bay and that the old woman is getting a bit long in the tooth for whatever her mysterious racket may be. I should also mention that the hag has a son who runs around with a chainsaw and that there is a weird igloo prison in the basement housing a ghoul.

Now I know that all sounds inviting but don't let's everybody jump on the GHOSTKEEPER train just yet. Exactly half of you will hate it. There's zero gore and it loses some major steam toward the end. In other words, you need to put two quarters in for every gumball you get out of this machine and I don't think everybody is going to have the patience for that. It's really rather frustrating because it does such a fine job of setting you up and then just when it has you where it wants you, it loosens its grip. It whispers in your ear, expertly tunes your fork and just when you're preparing for the bite down it mumbles something about Indian legends and lets the moment pass. Still, somehow some of the seemingly throw away imagery (for example: a long line of empty chairs facing windows filled with nothingness) wedge their way under your skin and set up camp there. A chase scene through the attic is not exactly miraculously staged but the attic itself is an authentically unnerving space where you'd never want to be.

The ultimate ending is gratifying enough but things do get murky just as they should be crystallizing. If you happen to favor misty ghost stories that linger rather than jack in the box scares though this is a true find. Personally, I've never met an early eighties Canadian horror film scored by the guy who did MY BLOODY VALENTINE and edited by the guy who did BLACK CHRISTMAS that I didn't like. It's true that I craved for it to gel and be less gentle but the apprehension it inspires (at least for awhile) is pretty impressive. It's hard to forgive a film for not dropping the hammer when it has you in the position to do so, but it certainly deserves some credit for getting you in that position in the first place. So O.K., maybe my snowshoes were not exactly blown off but I did feel a chill in July during a hellish heat wave and that my friends is pretty darn cool.

NOTE: Thanks to Amanda and Taylor for pushing me to see this one!

NOTE 2: The above video has nothing officially to do with GHOSTKEEPER but who cares. I think they make a good team.

Kinder-friendly Andre Dumas of HORROR DIGEST recently posted a list of her "Top Ten Willy Inducing Moments" and what an intriguing list it is. I love the idea of diving right down to the nitty-gritty of what gets under your skin. As far as I'm concerned, you can buy as many posters, T-shirts and DVDs as you like but if you don't know the willy first hand, then you're really just a horror tourist!

Fellow bloggers have followed suit and the results have been equally compelling. Unfortunately, my tardiness to the willy party (that sounded better in my head) means that many a good willy is now already spoken for (that did too.) Christine over at FASCINATION WITH FEAR mentioned Father Karras' mother from THE EXORCIST and the chilling last lines from SESSION 9 and I couldn't agree more. Johnny Sandman of PARADISE OF HORROR nabbed the furry ghost from THE SHINING and my favorite scene from HALLOWEEN. The Mike of FROM MIDNIGHT, WITH LOVE jumped on that last chilling shot from PRINCE OF DARKNESS and the creepy as hell parents from THE GATE. Mike of ALL THINGS HORROR included the famous window scenes from both SALEM'S LOT and THE OMEN and BJ-C of DAY OF THE WOMAN dug up creepy laughing Linda from THE EVIL DEAD! Andre herself mentioned such goodies as the not so ghostly apparition from THE INNOCENTS and that damn Zelda from PET SEMATARY!

Well, I had to join in even if some of my favorite creepy scenes had already been mentioned, so here goes…

I've mentioned the daddy long leg spider hive from THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE before. I consider myself a friend of spiders but these guys I can do without. I really believe that they are up to no less than chewing a hole into the universe. Bad spiders!

DOLORES CLAIRBORNE is not a scary movie but the scene where JENNIFER JASON LEIGH looks into a mirror only to see the back of her own head is as startling as being doused with a bucket of ice. It's a shock that reverberates through the rest of the film and it is a brilliant representation of her disowned self.

Speaking of shaky identities, the ultimate reveal of ANGEL HEART may be cliché by this point but it blew my brains into smithereens when I first encountered it. MICKEY ROURKE (who has the best man-scream in the world) crying; "I know who I am!" still gives me the goose bumps.

DAY OF THE LOCUST lulls you into thinking you are on firm ground and then shakes you like a snow globe. Suddenly, the whole world turns violently surreal and there's just no going back to normal. This is herd behavior at its most nightmarish, a flattening bulldozer of chaos.

INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHER's final moment is cruelly sadistic and outrageously pessimistic. Man, how did DONALD SUTHERLAND pull that unearthly trick with his face? I'm sure they would distort his mouth with CGI these days but that all natural howling mug's only competition is a MUNCH painting.

UGH, this has always haunted me. I can't stand MELODY ANDERSON's smirk when we find out she's moonlighting as a murderous zombie in DEAD AND BURIED. First of all, it's all filmed in BLAIR WITCH grainy-cam and secondly, not my MELANIE ANDERSON! Not she of the cherub cheeks, not DALE ARDEN! I can't stand it. I have to throw up.

I don't know how they achieved the evil face at the end of DON'T GO TO SLEEP, but I think it involves worshipping Satan.

Speaking of Satan, this face from SATAN'S TRIANGLE jump started my relationship with horror. It is the most evil thing in the world and I wish it would take a rest from spooking me. This atrocity is, in actuality, my number one willy but I refuse to allow it the satisfaction of knowing that.

You'd think that becoming an adult would save me from the worst of what the willy has to offer. I can use my rational mind to protect myself now right? Enter DAVID LYNCH. Hello, folks, my name is Unkle Lancifer and I am currently too scared to watch MULHOLLAND DRIVE. I saw it twice in the theater and it made me feel like I was going nuts. The old people, oh good lord, the old people! Their out of control maniacal smiley faces were bad enough, bringing back memories of both DON'T GO TO SLEEP and SATAN'S TRIANGLE but then they had to go one pounce further and become tiny berating imps. Welcome to my hell, this is pure unmitigated insanity dumped right out of the box. DAVID LYNCH, for future reference, I scar and sue easily.

At this present date I decree that the wall/face from THE HAUNTING may be my personal ultimate willy. I believe it to be the willy in its purest form. If I've learned anything from compiling this list besides (1) I hate mobs (be them man or spider) and (2) I have serious identity issues that I should look into, it's that (3), I can't stand smiling faces!!! Please everybody stop smiling you are FREAKING me out! My one refuse from the smiling masses is my home where smiling is prohibited but THE HAUNTING seems to want to tell me that a smile can be found anywhere even on a wall. Damn you THE HAUNTING, is nothing sacred? Are you, THE HAUNTING, trying to suggest that all of my willies exist only in my head? Why would you say that THE HAUNTING, and more importantly why would you smile when you say that?

Holy crap, that's too many willies for one day even for me. Now I'm depressed. Well, in all my time on planet Earth I've only found one sure fire cure for the heebie jeebies, the willies and the blues and it's called watching FLASH GORDON! Here's the MELODY I know and love. Go Flash Go! Go Flash Go!

Note: MULHOLLAND DRIVE oldster images courtesy of CHILLY SCENES OF DREADFUL VILLAINY!

UPDATE: Stacie Ponder of FINAL GIRL fame has posted her 10 williest willies HERE! While you're hanging out at the Ponder palace make sure you check out her bloggenaire feature on Kinder-pal Amanda by Night HERE!!!

PLUS: Dod from THE WGON HELICOPTER joins in HERE!

PLUS: MAGNIFLORIOUS does some good willies HERE!

PLUS: THINGS THAT DON'T SUCK and HORROR EXTREME!

And don't forget Pax Romano of BILLY LOVES STU and a ton more HERE!

I've somehow been able to elude seeing 1984's FATAL GAMES for decades. I've never heard much praise thrown upon it and I've always been turned off by its beyond bland VHS cover art… avoidance has been a breeze. A friend even loaned it to me once and it sat on my T.V. for months quietly gathering dust until I returned it unviewed. Who was I kidding though, FATAL GAMES is an eighties slasher so it was only a matter of time until I broke down. I could run but I could not hide, I had to get it over with. I watched FATAL GAMES and now a new chapter of my life begins…

Overall, FATAL GAMES (a.k.a. OLYMPIC NIGHTMARE) sucked as much as I thought it might but I can't say it was completely without entertainment value. If it was just a wee bit better it would be a complete and total washout but its perpetual atrociousness makes it strangely worthwhile for those of us with a masochistic need to scrape the bottom of the barrel. I would have jumped off of this maladroit mobile early on but several things kept me clinging. First of all, I owe SALLY KIRKLAND my attention because she was in THE HAUNTED, which rules, second it was nice to see SUZANNA LOVE's BOOGEY MAN bro NICHOLAS again, and third, I kind of liked the kills, monotonous as they are.

If you've seen 1981's GRADUATION DAY then you've run this lap already. A mysterious maniac, instead of killing humans, has decided to kill athletes instead (yes, I suck at sports and don't act surprised.) This time the killer hides in the shadow of a hoodie, ala URBAN LEGEND, and utilizes a signature pointy weapon, the javelin. I know it's wrong but even a terrible movie deserves some points for showing people being impaled on a javelin. I have no desire to now own FATAL GAMES on DVD, but I do have a strange desire to go out and buy a javelin, maybe two.

I have a feeling that director MICHAEL ELLIOT had some fun and was enthusiastic about filming the film's crazy climax and its bizarre deaths but had no love for filming the rest. I say that because it shows. The filler between the mayhem is pretty damn laborious and I'm not a stickler for continuity, but I sure miss it when it's M.I.A. It's night, it's day, they're in the school they're not in school, "characters" say they're going out for hamburgers and then end up in a Mexican restaurant, I don't get it. Furthermore, plot lines are presented and never followed through with and you have to hear excuse after excuse about why people don't catch on to the obvious. Speeches about "winning" and being "the best" also tend to make me want to blow my brains out (or at least nose dive onto a javelin.)

FATAL GAMES must have been simply intolerable on release but being from 1984 it does have a great deal of chewy nostalgia to offer now. I know I usually wave an invisible cane and bitch about the good old days but my eyes done been opened. I'm really glad that boys don't have to wear nylon Daisy Dukes anymore and that women have abandoned the macramé leg warmer. Some people may find it absorbing that, because of the locker room atmosphere, there is a plethora of nudity going down. If you want to see a completely naked lady chased down a hall then you are indeed in luck. Poor me, I was left cringing at dudes in billowing, bloomer-like "tighty whiteys" that looked like they were stolen from my dead grandma's laundry basket, talk about your double standards and also, blech.

I'm glad I finally did succumb to FATAL GAMES because really the killer reveal is hilariously awesome and the final fifteen minutes or so are almost up to snuff. The kills throughout too, were acceptable for the most part (we even got a traumafession about one of them HERE.) But even I, master Turdpol (stands for turd polisher) cannot pretend that there is much to the rest of the film besides the type of pain you are usually accustomed to experiencing in a dentist's chair. If you have lots of friends and you are all raging, sarcastic alcoholics who need to feel superior, you should join together one day and watch this one as a group and trade barbs, YOU will have a blast. Don't be like me and watch it alone during the day on Youtube eating Sour-Blast Skittles, because that may destroy you or at the very least, leave you making a mental note to update your drawers.

If I've learned anything doing time on planet kindertrauma, it's that there's no way to predict what's going to disturb you. More than anything, fear is an emotional response and your rational mind can blow the whistle all it likes, fear is going to keep doing its crazy jig if it wants to anyway. Now, I can't say that 1982's THE SLAYER actually scares me but I will admit that it never fails to creep me out.

I caught THE SLAYER back in the day on VHS and I remember my first thought as the film began was, "Oh crap, it's one of those cheapie backyard homebrews and poor me is in for a world of boredom." Little did I know that by the movie's end I'd be left with a strange feeling, a feeling of being genuinely unnerved. That the movie was able to leave a stain on the shag carpet in my brain is even more startling when you take its not very good acting, chalk board scratch dialogue, and MS. WIGGINS pacing into account.

I wish I could say J.S. CARDONE's THE SLAYER was some expertly built mind fuck machine or something but it's just not. There are some nicely done suspense scenes, a few better kills than you should reasonably expect and an interesting pre-ELM STREET death by dream mechanism but none of that is really enough to explain why it creeps me out. Maybe I'm just hanging on to the effect it had on me in my youth but a recent watch did nothing to change my opinion that THE SLAYER has the goods, even if I can't explain it on a technical level. It's like an abstract painting more or less, the feeling you're left with is more than the sum of its parts.

Maybe it's a victory of ambiance and milieu. THE SLAYER takes you to a crusty remote island, shoves you into an authentically dilapidated theater and milks a raging thunderstorm for all it's worth. There are scavenger crabs dancing on a dead woman's face, folks getting trapped in nets, and death by oar and fishhook. It all feels very natural and lived in so much so that no wooden acting can deter the coastal climate from leaving its mark. Feel free to throw this one into a spooky sea shanty marathon with TOWER OF EVIL, DEAD AND BURIED and THE FOG. I may even be able to use THE SLAYER as an other example alongside SESSION 9 and the original CHAINSAW that nothing beats real on location shooting. No art director in the world can counterfeit the power of an environment with genuine history.

I also have to give plaudits to the main character here, Kay (SARAH KENDALL) she's somewhat unconvincing, certainly annoyingly repetitive, and unapologetically, narcissistically neurotic. She'd never fly in the modern post RIPLEY age but her ghoulish face and cornered, feeble disposition adds an extra depressive coat onto the rack. I miss this type of almost Victorian female horror protagonist whose main contribution is to be the seer or the voice of dread. That may mean heavy fretting and zero kick-ass but in a supernatural, psychological tale it quite simply works. Feminists may cringe, but I think it adds to the bleakness of the situation if the main character is dwarfed and quivering in awe of the phantasmagorical. In other words Kay's not a hero, she's not even likable and that's what the story (yes there's more than one kind of story!) needs.

So will everybody love THE SLAYER? I really doubt it. Like I said, the acting is stiff, the dialogue makes you want to light yourself on fire and the music is simultaneously the greatest and most intrusive thing you've ever heard. Still, good kills and mood up the wazoo, you can't beat that! I watched it super late the other night, in probably the best of circumstances (in air conditioning, from my bed) and it still got to me after all these years. Whether it's the winged clipped desperation of creepy Kay or just the singular barnacle busted atmosphere, I'm thinking this captures something unearthly and unique. As far as I'm concerned, pimples and all, it's a dream (or nightmare) come true, a gory slasher movie with a surprisingly convincing air of the uncanny and an eerie "wrongness" I still can't quite put my finger on.