kindertrauma

Traumafessions :: Reader NiNi on Rockwell's "Somebody's Watchin' Me"

Posted on By aunt john

After seeing that people were traumatized by HERBIE HANCOCK, I'm surprised there's no mention of one-hit-wonder ROCKWELL, whose video for "Somebody's Watchin' Me" used to freak me the hell out as a kid. Highlights include the shadowy floating head, the zombie guy in tighty-whities carrying a roast pig (wtf??) and the shower spouting blood (a particular childhood worry of mine). But these weren't the real traumatizers of this video; I'd been on a steady diet of horror movies practically since birth, thanks to a horror-loving mother.

No, the kicker was in the last moments of the video, where the creepy grinning mailman is seen to have a horribly deformed and strangely slimy-looking left arm, poorly concealed behind his mailbag. I suspect that it was scary because he looked otherwise normal (if a bit serial-killerish); making it worse is the way that poor ROCKWELL walks up to him in obvious relief after dealing with all the rest, only to be faced with this misshapen horror. Let me tell you, it made me suspicious of mailmen for quite some time! I would eye them surreptitiously, on the lookout for a disgusting withered claw, and all because of ROCKWELL.

Traumafessions :: Reader Amy on The Waltons

Posted on By aunt john

O.K., this one is weird but there was this one scene from THE WALTONS where the young girl is playing on a tall triangle shaped woodpile. She is told that it is dangerous, but keeps playing. The next thing you know she falls, and she gets hurt. I don't know why I obsessed about this but I would re-enact it with my paper dolls, Barbies… whatever I could get my hands on!

The Horror at 37,000 Feet

Posted on By unkle lancifer

An airplane disaster flick from the seventies is a guilty treat all its own, but grafting a pseudo-satanic supernatural crisis upon this sub genre, in my opinion, takes it into the entertainment ambrosia zone. Directed by DAVID LOWELL RICH (who would later helm CONCORD…AIRPORT '79) THE HORROR AT 37,000 FEET is a schlock-adelic, made-for-television movie from 1973 that still soars high after all these years. Put simply, it's pure Kindertrauma gold; no adult could take it seriously and no child could ever possibly be immune to its potent dose of uncanny insanity.

Like any proper airplane movie, we are first introduced to an assortment of the cartooniest individuals imaginable all wearing their personal bugaboos upon their sleeves. Unlike most airplane movies, these stock characters soon find themselves contemplating the benefits of sacrificing humans to "the old ones." Blame the cargo, someone thought it would be a good idea to transport ancient druid stones from an English abbey to the U.S. to be reassembled, but said stones, once utilized in black masses, beg to differ. Before you can say "Silver Shamrock!" a dog is frozen mid bark and more goopy ooze than usual is pouring down the aisle in coach.

Now, I said that no adult could take this stuff seriously, but not fitting into that category exactly myself, I have to say that THE HORROR AT 37,000 FEET does indeed weave its own kind of unnerving spell. The soundtrack, mostly seventies era cicada chirps (which are eerily similar to the sounds emanating from the creature in JOHN CARPENTER'S THE THING, particularly when the beast takes its first victim, a hapless caged dog) garnished with ambiguous cult-like chanting brought me right back to the television horrors of my youth (albeit between snickers). A hooded figure even appears for a brief glimpse; c'mon you don't have to be into heavy metal to know those guys are scary!

I'm not sure there is enough room to go into how spectacular the cast is. WILLIAM SHATNER is an alcoholic priest questioning his faith, (it takes all my will power not to go on and on about the SHATNER but for the sake of my marriage, I'll move on); BUDDY EBSEN is some kind of rich tycoon guy (I've always wanted to mention EBSEN on these pages so I can bring up how crazy-cool his "Jed Clampet" paintings are, CHECK THEM OUT HERE); the unsinkable TAMMY GRIMES (who is so creepy she gave birth to AMANDA PLUMMER) is on board to play a dowdy doom saying occultist; and ROY THINNES (AIRPORT 1975 and SATAN'S SCHOOL FOR GIRLS) is the dude responsible for the whole mile high horror club. I could go on, but I think you'll get the idea when I inform you that the plane is co-piloted by TOURIST TRAP's Easter Island-faced CHUCK CONNERS and none other than RUSSELL JOHNSON "the Professor" from GILLIGAN'S ISLAND (naturally).

The best scene, out of literally dozens, involves the dumbstruck surviving passengers' attempts to appease the evil presence on the plane with a sacrifice. Flirting with becoming a vicious mob, they grab a doll from a little girl (thank God there is always a little girl on these doomed flights) and decide to go voodoo crazy on it and repurpose it as an effigy. They glue fingernails onto the doll, hair, and even draw some kind of crazy clown face on it. It doesn't make much sense (I'd like to think the evil was smart enough to detect the difference between a living human and a doll), but the scene is just too lunatic not to love. Further joy is found when the mock sacrifice begins to bubble with brown ooze as it is rejected by the unappeased spirits.

To say they don't make 'em like this anymore is to put it lightly. There's a real swingers lounge atmosphere that prevails here with much of the cast chain smoking, guzzling booze, and making chauvinistic advances to pass the time between attacks. Eventually though, it is SHATNER who has been spewing dramatic monologues about his lost faith in God and humanity who holds the key to their dilemma. Ultimately he comes to the conclusion that the presence of evil itself signifies that there is also "good" in the world and he plows forward to sacrifice himself and save the day. His cheap, unconvincing, blue-screen martyr-death resembles a Colorforms version of Ripley's swan dive suicide in ALIEN3 combined with the opening hat plunge from SID AND MARTY KROFFT'S LIDSVILLE. It will likely be etched in my mind for all of eternity.

I thought that I had pretty much seen all the truly remarkable television horror flicks from the seventies, but I'm glad to say I was wrong yet again. One can gripe about the inconsistencies and the silliness that abounds (check out the super fake model airplane!), but THE HORROR AT 37,000 FEET is savvy enough to never waste any time (Let's hear it for 73 minutes!) and personally, I found it consistently captivating in one way or another throughout. I have no problem declaring it a trash masterpiece (trash-terpiece?). I'm truly sorry I missed this one back in the day of its original airing because there's no question in my mind that it would have freaked me out to no end and possibly had me assembling voodoo sacrifices out of my BIG JIM action figures (as with SHATNER, don't get me started on BIG JIM's "The whip"!)

UNK SEZ: Read More about THE HORROR AT 37,000 FEET at our pal Amanda's MADE FOR T.V. MAYHEM!

NOTE: HORROR AT 30,000 FEET is not currently on DVD but I found this priceless film and many others HERE.

Traumafessions :: Kinderpal Professor Von Whiskersen on the Sad Dog Bank

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Most people who know me would agree that I prefer the company of animals to that of my own species. As a child, when other kids might have had imaginary friends, I had imaginary pets. A homeless person on the side of the road might be ignored or rationalized out of existence, but seeing a malnourished dog or cat will stick with me for the rest of the day. I'm pretty immune from news stories of man's inhumanity to his fellow man (or rather, his humanity towards his fellow man), but stories of abused animals sicken me.

Anyway, when I was a child, there was a particular phenomenon that made me dread going up to the counter of most restaurants: The Crying Dog Animal Donation/Extortion Bank! If you've seen one of these, I'm sure you could instantly describe it, down to the smallest detail. You also understand why I'm writing about it. If you have NOT ever seen one of these calculated, inanimate manipulators, I'll educate you.

The Crying Dog Animal Donation/Extortion Bank was a plastic piggy-bank type device about 10 to 12 inches tall. It's form was that of some sort of yellowish hound dog, with long flowing ears, matched only by its long face. Its eyes welled with tears, with a single drop spilling onto it's cheek. There was almost always an attached placcard or business card for some local animal shelter with the following poem (which has been etched into my mind for at least the last quarter century):

"I'm so hungry I could cry. If you don't help me, I may die."

No doubt early super-computers were used to optimize the heart-tugging at work here. I'm pretty sure that the RAND corporation had some of their excess post-Vietnam War analysts work up some 10 volume set detailing the exact means to squeeze the hearts of children right in their chests. Needless to say, I was highly susceptible to this sort of manipulation. I would usually deposit money if I had any or, for days after I'd regret not having any.

I don't know if this is a Southern thing or just an '80s thing. I don't see them at restaurants as much anymore, which I am conflicted about. I like not getting depressed every time I go to the counter of A&W to pay for my Coney dogs, but I hate that a potential funding stream for homeless animals might be drying up.

If you missed out on this delightful cultural icon, don't worry. The RAND folks are still hard at work in their cramped basement offices, cranking out pure sadness and pathos. Now they'll beam it straight into your living room…and this time they've got SARAH McLACHLAN helping out.

Traumafessions :: Reader Phil on Punky Brewster

Posted on By aunt john

I couldn't find this in your archives, so I decided to send it in. If you have it, well, I gotta get this out anyway.

PUNKY BREWSTER was my all time favorite show as a tyke. I developed my first unrequited crush on SOLEIL MOON FRYE, wrote her a fan letter, the whole nine yards. There was something so perfect about that show to elementary school-aged me. Perfect.

Until Season Two.

Season Two featured a very strange two-part episode called "The Perils of Punky." In it, Punky, Cheri, Alan, the dog Brandon and Margeaux end up lost in a cave during a camping trip. They get told by an old Indian about a lost princess who was captured by an evil spirit and trapped in the cave. One by one as they explore the cave, they disappear. Only Punky is left. As she sits down on a rock, all hell breaks loose:

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was terrified. What had been up to that point a relatively benign episode of a beloved sitcom, turned into a whole bucket of nightmare fuel for weeks to come. I stopped trusting the television, especially my formerly favorite show.

At the end of the episode, Punky fights a demon (!) and rescues her friends, but I didn't see that until the season was released on DVD. Years later.

Punky. I'll never trust you again.

Watch "The Perils Of Punky" PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Name That Trauma :: Reader Boothe5 on Tots Terrorized by Toys

Posted on By aunt john

Can you help me figure out a movie?

  • Old black and white large mansion
  • I think there are two children under 10 yrs old
  • Creepy doll looks at a boy in play room
  • Wood rocking horse
  • Big fireplace
  • Old lady in movie, I think she's the caretaker or maid
  • I remember a large stair case
  • I think the toys are haunting the house or one particular doll is talking to the boy as I remember

UNK SEZ: Wow, I don't think I know this one, but I hope somebody figures it out because I want to see it! If anybody out there in Kindertraumaland knows what movie this is, drop us a line (or leave a comment) A.S.A.P.!

Traumafessions :: Reader Ally G. on Thriller

Posted on By aunt john

thriller!

I'm scared by all sorts of stuff. But the biggest scare-fest for me is Thriller, starring MICHAEL JACKSON. From the werewolf-type-thingy to the zombie that peeps into the camera right at the very end, it scares the holy crap out of me! Thanks for 16 years of trauma, Mr. JACKSON and Mr. LANDIS!

AUNT JOHN SEZ: Luckily for you Ally, the Gloved-One and/or his production company has forbidden the embedding of his seminal zombie video, so we can't display the full visuals.

Unfortunately for you, we do have the power to embed the below LEGO and BOLLYWOOD versions. Ummm… enjoy?

Traumafessions :: Reader Ian on The Mod Squad

Posted on By aunt john

In THE MOD SQUAD episode "Twinkle Twinkle Little Starlet," pretty little Julie Barnes is used as bait to catch someone who uses silk scarves to strangle blond girls who get to close to a talk show host. When Julie finds herself alone in the woods with the strangler she reaches into his vest pocket thinking it's a hankie, instead she pulls out a scarf and sees it's like the ones that the strangler used on the other girls. She is frozen in fear, and my heart was pounding feeling her fear too. I was between 8 and 11.

UNK SEZ: Thanks Ian for turning me on to this creepy and obviously very groovy episode of THE MOD SQUAD. I tracked down a very informative post on just this episode at a great site called MOON IN THE GUTTER,
you can check that out HERE!