Entries Tagged 'Adrienne Barbeau fucking rocks' ↓
23:45 – Creepshow
December 27th, 2009 — 23:45, Adrienne Barbeau fucking rocks, From The Feeds, Tom Atkins fucking rocks
23:45 – The Convent
December 12th, 2009 — 23:45, Adrienne Barbeau fucking rocks, From The Feeds
A Field Guide to Horror Movie Jerks
November 9th, 2009 — Adrienne Barbeau fucking rocks, friday the 13th, From The Feeds, halloween, jerks, Zombies
Today, however, I want to focus on horror movie jerks. I've talked about those in the past as well, but never have I written...
Yes, my friends, there are many varieties. I'd like to get a few guidelines out of the way first: first and foremost, I'm talking about the jerks who are essentially a part of the protagonist's posse. It goes without saying that the bad guys are jerks- I mean, they kill people; and sometimes the villains have lackeys who definitely cross from expected bad guy jerkiness into wicked bad guy jerkiness- Mr. Straker, I'm looking at you. In the interests of this guide, however, the discussion is relegated to secondary characters who are purportedly on the side of "good". There, glad that's settled.

I love Annie from John Carpenter's Halloween. Perhaps it was a steady diet of "Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions" when I was young, I don't know...but whatever the reason, I generally love a smart and/or sassy mouth, especially when the person wielding said mouth is cranky (see also: Barbeau, Adrienne - Ed.). Mayhaps it's all rebellion against my 5th grade Social Studies teacher, Mrs. Nickerson, who told me that "Nobody likes sarcasm!" as I was getting in trouble for...well, for having a smart mouth borne of a steady diet of "Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions". I beg to differ, Mrs. Nickerson! I love sarcasm and I love Annie Brackett, even though she's kind of a jerk to her friends and the children she babysits...although I Lindsay kind of deserved it. Wait, what was I talking about again? Ah yes, the jerk you're smiling at despite the jerkiness, and you're kind of bummed when they die.








There you go, a little primer on Horror Movie Jerks. What did we learn today, friendos?
- If you have need of a good horror movie jerk, watch any George Romero or Friday the 13th movie. Jerks abound!
- Jerks always get what's coming to them. So much time is spent making the viewer side against this person that they're practically filled with bloodlust by the time the jerk gets killed. Seriously, when people are rooting for the mass murderer instead of you, you may want to rethink how you interact with your fellow human beings.
- Don't be a jerk!
Day 18: “Nothing is forgotten.”
October 18th, 2009 — Adrienne Barbeau fucking rocks, dallas, From The Feeds, Reviews, SHOCKTOBER
Anyway, all those keywords I dig come together to bring me- and the world- The Spell, the tale of an "obese" teenager who strikes back at her tormentors with the mysterious powers of her mind.
Hey, maybe that's it! Maybe Lee Grant has mysterious mind powers, and compels me to watch her films.




Rita, meanwhile, starts to become a little more jerky by the day as she gets a little more witchy by the night, sneaking out at all hours in her finest capery to hone her telekinetic skills with the help of her mentor.





At home, however, Rita smiles serenely as she embroiders her "Hang in there, kitty!" wall decoration and remains preternaturally calm in the face of hideous nightwear.

The hijinks escalate as Chris almost drowns at a swim meet and dad is almost flattened by a car...and although Rita's not present during either incident, Marilyn begins to suspect that something's hinky with her eldest. Soon it's time for a
Okay, so "for the ages" might be a bit of an exaggeration.
Okay, so "a bit of an exaggeration" might be a bit of an understatement. This is a made-for-TV effort that's fairly tame even for its time period. Again, I can be easy to please, and this bargain basement Carrie pleased me. It's little more than a pleasant 70-minute diversion, and what's wrong with that? Dammit...it must be Lee Grant and her witchy ways compelling me again. But how was I to know? It's not like she was wearing a cape!
For a limited time, you can watch The Spell on Hulu and judge for yourself if you're so inclined.
Day 7: “I call it ‘the sucker'”
October 7th, 2009 — Adrienne Barbeau fucking rocks, cuckoo nutso, eeeevil, From The Feeds, multi-pack mania

Yes, I said Creeptales. Surprisingly, it's also an anthology movie. It's available in the same multi-pack as Slash Dance and Knight Chills...and if you've read my reviews of those movies, then you can surmise that Creeptales pretty much stinks. But does it stink in a delightful fashion? That's the real question here.
The wraparound story is one of the most irritating I've ever witnessed: some doofus hunchback ghoul-types set about trying to find a copy of Creeptales, but unfortunately for them the video store is closed. Then they remember that their Uncle Munger was buried with a copy, so they dig it up, then invite all their doofus monster friends over to watch it.

I know- it doesn't sound so bad...a little corny-cute, even. But it dragged on for so long and was so full of irritating doofus chatter, I almost couldn't take it. My finger was even on the STOP button, but then at last the first segment began...in hindsight, I wish I'd pressed the button.

Elizabeth goes to stay with her much-older cousin Viola and crippled Aunt after a lengthy hospital stay. Viola has a secret: after she was raped by Elizabeth's father (yes, her own brother) she gave birth to a still born baby, and later went a bit cuckoo nutso. She kills a nosy cop and Elizabeth, then cradles her skelebaby. See? Cuckoo nutso. The end.
It did, however, feature this line, which I'm going to use with regularity whenever anyone starts bitchng at me: "You're making my gallbladder act up!"



Though this segment was fairly pointless, the garb of the two guys (as seen above) made me a bit nostalgic for my junior high days. You know, being "punk" but not at all punk, and wearing lots of buttons on a tweed trench coat. Also, when they got in their car, one of them said "Come on, let's rap some more!" and then they rapped...and I don't mean they talked. I mean they rapped.

Huh?
"Sucker" began with this shot...

She's awakened by a ringing doorbell, and we see that the woman is not all flowy and ethereal like her dream-persona; actually, she's a big slob. The man at the door is a traveling salesman who gives her a magic dustbuster that she can use for one day to rid her life of all the filth, which she blames on her husband. The only caveat is that she can't point the vacuum at people, and she can't use it for more than 30 seconds at a time, lest there be eeeevil consequences. In the course of cleaning her entire house, however...well, I guess she uses it longer-than-30-second intervals or something, because all of a sudden she's gained 500 pounds. By the time her husband (who's not at all the jerk she's made him out to be, by the way) gets home, she looks like this:

"Sucker" was probably the strongest of the bunch- the best of the worst- and it felt like it probably could have been an episode of Tales from the Darkside when the show was hobbling along on its last leg. That should give you a clue about this whole affair; I realize I've skimped on the descriptions, but there wasn't much to describe in any of these. Creeptales is a low-budget anthology flick, and the stories are middle of the road at best. The framing narrative was excruciating, and when the film cut back to it between segments, I hit fast forward.
The late Forrest Ackerman was listed as a "Creative Consultant", but I have no idea what that means. As anthologies go, this isn't enjoyably bad like, say, House of the Dead, and it certainly can't hold a candle to Creepshow or the Amicus efforts.
There, now I've written about it, so leave me alone...you're making my gallbladder act up!
it’s here, it’s here!
October 1st, 2009 — Adrienne Barbeau fucking rocks, awesomeness, From The Feeds, SHOCKTOBER

Can you feel it in the air? Can you dig it? It's October, y'all! Wait, scratch that- it's SHOCKTOBER! Time to buy your fake eyeballs at the grocery store, time for the crunch of leaves and the rustle of cellophane on the boxes of Ben Cooper costumes.

The horror blogging community seems to agree, and most everybody's got plenty of tricks and treats in store for your ass this month. Behold...IF YOU DARE!
- Arbogast on Film will once again delightfully deconstruct 31 screams in 31 days
- Things that don't suck include 31 Days of Horror at Things That Don't Suck
- Cinema Suicide is posting a month's worth of Halloween trivia
- It's Shocktober Classics time at Classic Horror, new reviews every weekday
- The Vault of Horror is exploring the Naughtie Aughties year-by-year
- Get in the mood for the season with Day of the Woman as she explores the bits and pieces that add up to Halloween
- Fascination With Fear will be gettin' its quote on all month long
- Countdown to Halloween with a sweet-smellin' potpourri of bloggers at...umm...Countdown to Halloween
- Cinema Fromage is running a serialized horror story all month: Long Harvest
- There's more counting down with countdown participant The Drunken Severed Head
Whether you're

dream a little dream
August 24th, 2009 — 1985, Adrienne Barbeau fucking rocks, From The Feeds, Reviews
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!
