Traumafession:: Reader Lu R. on I Come In Peace
Hi,
Your site encouraged me to search again for a film that I saw in the 90s on TV, when I was 5. I woke up in the late evening, so I went for my dad to read me another bed time story and maybe to get a cookie. He watched a film on TV and I got a glimpse of it while I walked up to him. This one scene stuck in my memory. There was some weird bad robot with white hair and a good robot with black hair and – for whatever reason – I thought the bad one was collecting breast milk.
So, today I searched differently and went through every horror film made in the late 80s and early 90s. It turned out that I saw "I Come In Peace". In the particular scene that I saw, the bad not-robot-but-alien had a female victim. I guess since the bad alien ripped open the shirts of its victims and pumped white liquid into and out of their bodies, I thought it had to be breast milk. Now that I know that the liquid is supposed to be heroin and endorphins, the film seems to be less fucked up than I thought it was. The trailer also seems to be more trashy than horrifying, but for a kid it was really scary. Maybe someone else suffers some Kindertrauma from that one.
Traumafession:: Uncle TNUC on Missing Link
I can barely type words on a laptop right now because of the brain explosion I just experienced by finding Kindertrauma. Seriously, what a great site! Anything and everything to do with obscure childhood memories is what TNUC is all about. Yes, TNUC (pronounced "tee-nuk") is the site that i've been running for the past few years. I've turned things I obsessed with in my childhood (or feared) into basically, attempted works of art. That includes music video edits, mixtapes and more. If i'm making no sense so far, please go take a look at the site. By the looks of things around the Kindertrauma camp, i'm sure you'll enjoy the product!
My latest childhood nightmare comes from a little Cro-magnon direct-to-vhs wonder called MISSING LINK (1988). I remember catching this movie late one night on HBO when I was around 10 and it both facinated AND sent shivers down my overalls at the same time. The setting? Africa, 1 million years ago. The star? The last neanderthal on earth. The plot? Watching this Cro-magnon stud walk around Africa day + night, with nothing to do but stare at wildlife and get high (yes, really). I recently turned this movie into a music video edit for one of my favorite artists and friend, Steve Moore. Have a look at the video to get a peek at MISSING LINK!
Sunday Streaming:: Nomads (1986)
Can I recommend 75% of this movie and warn you about the remaining 25%? If you can appreciate a thoroughly eighties supernatural thriller complete with a shamelessly obtrusive soundtrack, grievous apparel and a near non-stop barrage of light shafts shooting through Venetian blinds then you, like me, will want to see this. The rub is that to experience these wonderful things you'll also have to endure PIERCE BROSNAN speaking with an excruciating French accent. It sounds easier than it is. My tip is to use your imagination and pretend that it is not happening, that's what I did. I just kept a straight face and willed myself into hearing something different than what I was. It's worth the effort because as mawkish as this movie can sometimes be, it also, occasionally, hits a profoundly eerie note especially if you watch it late at night when your brain is partially defenseless. There's a scene in this flick involving a nun that is straight out of THE SENTINEL. I'm not exactly sure what it meant or why it happened but it spooked me all the same. In fact, there's much creativity on display involving the mixing of perspectives and realities, even if every artsy stab doesn't successfully hit its mark. I'm even going to forgive the near nuclear level of soapy melodrama it secretes because I'm rationalizing that it adds to the dream like tone. But again, you must brace yourself for the accent.
You'd never know it but NOMADS is about a group of wandering evil spirits haunting L.A. in the guise of MTV-style hooligans. Once you become aware of them you're better off dead because they will not stop harassing you and they will even drive motorcycles into your house! There's a lot of delectable mumbo jumbo about these rascals being attracted to places where awful things have occurred and about Los Angeles being built on a desert that no one should call home. As far as my needs are concerned though, the most important thing to know about this demonic tribe is that they are portrayed by the likes of ADAM ANT, JOSIE COTTON and I shit you not, MARY WORONOV!!! Witnessing WORONOV dancing on the hood of a car is worth enduring a thousand phony baloney accents! Sorry, I don't mean to beat a dead horse, it's just that I'm convinced that BROSNAN's accent is solely responsible for this movie being marginalized and worse still, it's really so unnecessary to the story! (Seriously, if I was a producer who saw a rough cut I would have got on the horn and demanded the whole thing be re-dubbed.) Sans grueling accent, you may not have a blockbuster but at least you've got a stylish, super-quirky, mind-trippy, cult-oddity that ridiculous though it may be, leaves a uniquely haunting impression. Frankly I'm a little surprised that writer/ director JOHN McTIERNAN was ever allowed to work again, but I'm so glad he was because he later delivered the classics DIE HARD and PREDATOR! Tres bien!
Kinder-News:: Drew Daywalt's The Hurting Man
UNK SEZ: Listen to this great news! Our old pal DREW DAYWALT has just signed a deal to direct the horror feature THE HURTING MAN based on his own original script and executive produced by LARRY FESSENDEN of THE HABIT and THE LAST WINTER fame! This is from the press release:
THE HURTING MAN follows the story of a police officer who tragically finds his family murdered after a failed 911 call and now must work to save their souls from a demonic boogieman haunting his childhood home.
"I wrote this script and kept it close to my chest," says Daywalt, " because this one was written from my own worst terrors, both as a parent of small children, and also tapping into my own childhood fears of a hideously costumed boogieman. This one's going to scare the hell out of everyone. I promise. I can say that because it really scares me, and I'm letting my fear guide me on this one."
Says Fessenden, "There's a certain kind of genuinely terrifying old-school-campfire scare that Daywalt gets right in his Fear Factory gems and I can't wait to see him nail those chills in a long form film."
This is exciting news for any horror fan familiar with DREW's fantastic previous work! Make sure you keep up to date by liking the film's Facebook Page HERE. And keep yours eyes out for his soon to be unleashed flick THE PASSENGERS which sounds equally kindertraumatic! In the meantime, it's always a good time for this DAYWALT classic…
Valentine's Viewing:: Raising Cain (1992)
If RAISING CAIN (1992) does not register as premium De PALMA, please consider that ALL movies that fail to feature NANCY ALLEN are inherently flawed. Beyond that gross defect, CAIN, unsteady and riling though it may be, is thoroughly fascinating. So what if it loves leaving the audience in a lurch, how can anyone who adores film not recognize that same affection mirrored on the screen? Don't expect me to be one of those goofballs who whines about De PALMA's glorification of HITCHCOCK. First off, that's nothing to be ashamed of, secondly, I never get tired of directors unabashedly exploring what inspires them and thirdly, De PALMA brings more than enough of his own idiosyncratic voice to the table, thank you very much. His visual excesses, unfathomable choices and awkward self-awareness are exactly what curl my toes; if anything, I wish I could lure him even further out on his favorite limb. CAIN is completely oddball beneath its misleading suburban surface and somehow unique even while presenting an almost "greatest hits" version of the director's previous thrillers. It's exquisite, it's a mess, and it will make you wish you were provided a map or at least some post-it notes to identify what is dream, memory or hallucination. If you don't particularly take to this movie, I can't particularly blame you but here are five things that I love about RAISING CAIN…
1. The voice-over: De PALMA's original idea was to open CAIN focusing on the internal world of Jenny (LOLITA DAVIDOVICH) who is contemplating having an affair (a la DRESSED TO KILL). Only later did he plan to let the cat out of the bag that cuckold husband Carter (JOHN LITHGOW) was juggling an assortment of personalities, of which, at least one was homicidal. In a bout of charity toward the viewer, De PALMA re-cut the film in order to expedite the focus towards hubby Carter's madness. It does work in helping us understand Carter is bonkers from the get-go but we are left with Jenny's story floating in a bubble closer to the center of the film. The ripple effects of the switcheroo results in Jenny delivering a tardy, gawky voice-over exposition that discontinues as abruptly as it materializes. Maybe it makes sense. Maybe Jenny is loopier than her husband. When we shift to her perception, the whole world is fuzzy Valentines and her love interest Jack Dante (STEVEN BAUER) happens to be impossibly slick, ripped off the cover of a Harlequin romance. They even share a hospital-set soap opera-style kiss (she's a doctor) as his ailing wife watches, wails and politely drops dead. Jenny's screamingly artificial narration actually fits her gauzy, trapped in a daydream existence but yeah, I mostly love it because it's weird. The device follows her snapping out of a nightmare, as if she's woken up to find herself in a movie (and yet another dream). I'm not lost. I think I'm right right around the corner from MULHOLLAND DRIVE.
2. The creepy kid: So Carter is insane. I can safely tell you about at least three of his personalities. One is his twin brother Cain who is elected to do all the dirty work, one is his child self, "Josh" who gets to feel all the emotional pain and then there is "Margo" who should not be disturbed because she doesn't put up with nonsense. De PALMA certainly has PSYCHO on the mind (especially when it comes to victim disposal but let's submerge that vehicle later) and he's also eyeing that film's sibling flick, MICHAEL POWELL's PEEPING TOM. Both films are ostensibly about crazy people doing murderous things but at their core, if you ask me, they're really about shitty parents. Carter's dad was a child psychologist who tortured and traumatized him in order to record the results (much like PEEPING TOM) and tellingly, not one word is spoken about his mother. We know nothing about her except the primary knowledge that she clearly failed to protect him. This is perhaps why the shadow of the Margo personality looms so large; she is the protector Carter was denied (not to mention the protector he longs to become, our very first view of Carter is of him wrapped around his own child in a guarding maternal pose). Trickster De PALMA has a blast playing with different ways of presenting Carter's selves. One of the freakiest representations occurs when out of the blue, a curly headed, cherub looking tyke confronts Carter with a distorted, almost demonic, voice, "I know what you're going to do! It's a bad thing and I'm going to tell!" The viewer has no clue at the time that we are witnessing a projection of Carter's youngest identity (or that the person the kid is threatening to inform is Margo). It's out of left field, ELM STREET– level surreal and as bizarre as it is alarming.
3. Morning has broken: This tribute is a work of art. Carter/Cain, like Norman Bates before him, means to hide a dead body in a car and roll it into a lake. The water is black as tar and the car and all that floats atop the lake are ochre, copper and gold. But wait! The prey is not dead! As she screams, the accusing spotlight sun awakes, the curtain of night drops and gossiping birds shriek like alarm clocks. The morning light spreading over Cain's face is fantastic. It's played for suspense that his murderous crime might be exposed but it's also a clever portrait of Carter's eclipsing identities. I'm guessing De PALMA is less interested in mimicking a method of body disposal than he is giddy to duplicate HITCHCOCK's predilection for feeding the fires of viewer collusion.
4. The longest yard: PSYCHO doesn't get grief too often but when it does, it's typically over the way Norman's condition is (some say) heavy-handedly explained by a killjoy psychiatrist at the film's conclusion (De PALMA nabbed DENNIS FRANZ for a similar thankless job in DRESSED TO KILL). Personally, I don't mind a little post-trauma pow-wow and who takes one lone character's viewpoint as gospel anyway? De PALMA has loads of back story and clarification to get off his chest in CAIN and he kindly gets it out of the way relatively early and in a most entertaining way. Enter FRANCES STERNHAGEN as scene-stealer Dr. Waldheim who due to cancer wears a jet black wig which she claims makes her look like a transvestite. No need to pull up a chair! Dr. Waldheim is taking you for a little walk! There's nothing not to love as the good doctor fills us in on everything we need to know in an incredibly lengthy continuous shot while the camera spins around her and she is humorously yanked to stay on course down several floors and tilted flights of stairs toward the payoff of an almost comical screaming corpse. I like a show-off and this incredible scene has at least two…or three.
5. The closer: There is no way to fully explain the climax of RAISING CAIN. It's like a multi-layered clashing collage or a cinematic scrapbook of postcards from places the director has visited or conquered. Critics would walk away with boring accusations that De PALMA was cannibalizing himself but meanwhile dude was double dipping his corn chips in the meta mash-up bean dip years ahead of schedule. I can't explain it and I don't have to. It should be enough for you to know that the epic finale involves a cross-dresser, a mad doctor with a Norwegian (?) accent, a baby carriage, a tot in a red hoody, slow-mo spilling groceries, lightning flashes, a deadly sundial on a wayward truck and a couple unexplained belligerent drunks and that the entire concoction utilizes three floors of a neon lit motel. It's a symphony of insanity and wanton black humor and no other director in the world would dream it up. There's plenty to pick apart in RAISING CAIN but none of its foibles can overshadow the pure crazy brilliance pounding through its veins. To tell you the truth, I didn't think much of it when I saw it in the theater way back in 92'. I was riveted by some of what I saw but most of it turned to mush in my head. That's O.K., love at first sight is overrated anyway. Did I mention that the bulk of the movie takes place on Valentine's Day? Think of RAISING CAIN as a Valentine from De PALMA. It's not the sweetest chocolate from his heart shaped box but I reckon it's one of the chewiest. Hopefully you are not allergic to nuts.
Name That Trauma:: Reader Tom S. on a Candy Cavity Witch
Hello Kindertrauma. I was wondering if I might be able to tap your extended knowledge base in helping to find an old poster image.Here's what I can remember so any further details or better yet, the actual image would be super cool.
When I was in kindergarten, circa 1979, there was what I believe to be an educational poster for dental health. It featured a witch with gross rotten teeth behind a table piled with candy and sweets. My sister used to refer to it as the "candy cavity witch". As a young kid I found it disturbing but I couldn't not look at it. A few years later I saw the same image in a book but ever since then it has only been a distant memory. I've done image searches and checked eBay with no luck. Please tell me I'm not imagining this memory! Any of you or your readers' collective memory able to help out on this?
Thanks.
Tom S.
Sunday Streaming:: The Howling V: The Rebirth
JOE DANTE's THE HOWLING is one of the best werewolf movies ever made but the litter of disconnected sequels running around with its name on their collar are mostly runts. The possible lone exception is THE HOWLING 5: THE REBIRTH which has recently shown up on Netflix Streaming. I wouldn't blame anyone for not wanting to jump into the fifth installment of a notoriously lackluster series but this flick can stand alone and might be better thought of as a loose remake of THE BEAST MUST DIE!. The pacing can be sluggish and the acting can be woeful but you may find yourself happily looking past any and all faults in order to hang out in such a fantastic setting. THE HOWLING 5 takes place in a desolate castle in Budapest, full of secret passages and candle lit halls and best of all there is a impenetrable blizzard raging outside!
The set-up is akin to a classic whodunit mystery with a group of strangers receiving invitations to show up for an event only to be isolated and killed off one by one, in this case by a guest who happens to have fangs. Why, there's even a shady butler and creepy maid on board to fill out the suspect/victim list! On Netflix the movie is presented full screen and looks every inch a VHS rental or late night cable watch circa 1989. I should warn you in advance that there are no gooey transformation scenes and that our werewolf is only shown in the briefest of flashes. I know that's sad but it ultimately adds to the effect that you are watching something classier than you are. If it's any consolation, THE HOWLING 5 does sport a mean decapitation, it's not bloody but it's well staged and fiendishly cruel enough to get a thumbs up from me. Approach this one with an open mind, I have a feeling as soon as your ears catch the gloomy goth late-eighties score you'll want to save this puppy from the pound.
