Entries Tagged '1985' ↓

Ghoulies (1985)

Review by Theron Neel One of the best things about having an open mind is the chance it provides for redemption and rediscovery. Take Ghoulies, for instance. I saw this flick on its release back in 1985 and immediately wrote it off as a lesser Gremlins, as did many others. Then I promptly forgot about it. [...]

dream a little dream

Okay okay okay...you guys...I had the best dream last night. See, it was about Jack the Ripper, right? Well, in a way it was. Okay, so, the cops were chasing him across London Bridge...and I know that London Bridge isn't anywhere near Whitechapel, but it was a dream, so gimme a break! Anyway, the cops were chasing him and they shot him and he fell into the Thames...only on the way down, this, like, big rock from the bridge came loose and it, too, fell in the river. And yes, I know that Jack the Ripper was never shot, but again...dream. I mean, I've never met Madonna either, but this one time I had a dream that we sat next to each other on the bus, so clearly in Dreamworld anything goes.

Then, all of a sudden, I was in freakin' Arizona! And it was 1985! Dreams are so crazy, lol. Soooo, there was this, like, recreation of an English village or something, except it wasn't very English-y...you know how it is when, in your dreams, you know it's supposed to be something even though if you were awake you'd be like, "Okay, this is not at all like it's supposed to be!"? It was like that. What I mean is, the English village had a gift shop with severed wax heads which, as I said, isn't very village-y, but I remember seeing a sign so I guess it was a village- or at least the Arizonian concept of an English village. But I'm getting off track!

Okay, so London Bridge ended up in the Arizona fake English village. Like, they shipped it over stone by stone...which seems like a really stupid idea, I know. And you're all "Okay, now I know it was a dream!"...but dudes and dudettes, the whole bridge thing really happened. I remember reading about it on The Internet, which I guess is how it leaked into my dream. Weird, right? But it gets weirder!

So, remember that stone that fell into the Thames alongside Jack the Ripper? Yeah, well, the next thing you know, it was found, brought to Arizona, and put in place on the bridge. Next thing you know, someone's bleeding on it- I know, kooky!- and I remember, like, a puff of smoke or fog or some shit and POOF. Jack the Ripper was alive again, in Arizona! I know, it totally doesn't make sense, but there you go.

The best part about this dream, though, was that there were so many cool people there...like Clu Gulager and Rose Marie and Randolph Mantooth and Stepfanie Kramer of television's Hunter and Adrienne freakin' Barbeau! The last time I had a dream featuring all those people, it was like I was a contestant on some game show that was like a cross between Hollywood Squares and Press Your Luck. I was about to win BIG MONEY, but then I woke up. I hate that! Last night, though, my dream went on and on AND ON...and David Hasselhoff was there, and he was a cop who was all "troubled" because he shot a kid who'd robbed a store- Hoff thought the kid was carrying a gun, but it turned out he was actually holding a can opener. Ha ha, dreams be so crazy!

Anyway, the dream was exceedingly boring and stupid and not scary and most decidedly NOT a nightmare, but right before I woke up David Hasselhoff got into a fist fight with Jack the Ripper, so I guess that was cool. Plus, I was sleeping anyway- and what else is there to do while you're asleep then have stupid dreams?

Oh God...that was no dream...that was really happening!

1985 wasn’t so bad

So today I was thinking about, you know, like, stuff and stuff, and I was all...hmm. Yeah. "Horror kinda nosedived as the 1980s went on and on." Then I thought about 1985 and I was all, "Well, that wasn't such a bad year." Then I thought about the fact that I used to wear nylon pants in the mid-80s, and how that was a terrible, terrible decision on my part...especially when one considers that I would generally couple said nylon pants with Chuck Taylors and Hawaiian shirts. What the fuck was I thinking?

Anyway, yeah, horror in '85. Some good movies, and a turn toward black comedy. Notable, perhaps. Perhaps not. I guess that's a decision you'll have to make for yourself, consequences be damned. Not unlike opting to pull up some nylon pants.

Return of the Living Dead

This film completely cordoned off a piece of my heart reserved forever and always for Linnea Quigley.


Gordon + Lovecraft + Combs + Crampton are mid-80s Fab Four as far as I'm concerned.


SAKES ALIVE. Why oh why can't I zip around the universe all nude-like, shooting lasers out of my eyes? It's all I want in the world!

Fright Night

Three things always spring to mind when I think of Fright Night: 1) Amanda Bearse's magically-lengthening vampire hair; 2) "Oh, you're so cool, Brewster!"; 3) Chris Sarandon's off-white cable-knit sweater.

The Stuff

I've never seen The Stuff. There, I said it.


This movie makes no sense and it's wicked gross. I fucking love it.

Day of the Dead

Oft-maligned, but I've always dug Day of the Dead. Maybe because it was the first Romero zombie pic I was allowed to see...saw it at the drive-in. Brain chaos ensued. "Yes, sir...fuck you, sir!"

The Company of Wolves

Saw this once upon a time- and when I say "a time", I mean "a horror movie sleepover pizza party time"...meaning, I thought it stunk. Undoubtedly, I need to revisit it.

So...1985. Whatchoo tink?