I'm cranky today. Therefore, I decided to post about a subject that makes me happy: great reveals in horror movies. I don't mean, like, when we find out that Mrs. Bates is actually Norman Bates (PS- spoiler alert) or a simple jump scare or something along those lines. I'm talking about movies that take their sweet-ass time revealing what, exactly, is killing all the pretty young things. Or what will soon be killing all the pretty young things. You know- the monster. It's all about anticipation capped with a mind-blowing holycrapdidyoujustseethat moment. Here are my five favorite examples in no particular order; you may disagree with my choices, but that's your beeswax. (PPS- more spoiler alerts)
Salem's Lot
I talked about this a bit in my review of the 1979 made-for-TV miniseries Salem's Lot oh so many moons ago- it's just that amazing.
Aside: this was made for TV. MADE FOR TV. Made for TV and it's got more scares than most of the crap at your local thee-ay-ter. The old days were better, etc etc.
Anyway, while there's plenty of vampire action and weird goings-on going on in the Lot, all everyone keeps talking about is "Mr. Barlow this" and "Mr. Barlow that". Who is this guy? Some shy, old antiques dealer? More than two hours into the production, we meet this Mr. Barlow, and...well...
Actually, "meet" is too gentle a word to use for our introduction to this mystery man. Suddenly, oh so suddenly, he's there- BAM, in your face like an edgy comedian or an energy drink. We may have suspected that Mr. Barlow was the king of the new crop of vamps floating and biting their way around town, but no one could have suspected he'd look like that, like your worst possible nightmare come to life. Not. Cool.
The Ring
I don't care what you say, I love The Ring. Certainly the waterlogged ghost-girl idea has become boring since this film hit in 2002, and there's no denying that the herky-jerky camera style has been overused in horror like an old man's handkerchief, but come on. When we were introduced to Samara all those years ago we were innocent! It was a novel concept! The endeavor was as invigorating as a York Peppermint Pattie with only half the calories (no, that doesn't make sense).
Anyway, The Ring. Sure, we see Samara a bit on the eeeevil videotape, and we see the results of...whatever it is she does to victims seven days after they watch said tape. But it's not until the film passes the 90-minute mark- not until we think everything's gonna be a-ok, that Samara has gone off into the light- that we see her in all her water-logged, stinky glory. It's bitchin'. No, we still don't really know what she actually does to people, but I don't really care. She crawls out of TVs, and that's all I need to know.
Oh, and when getting these screencaps I noticed that this...
...is a copy of The Craft. Thought you might like to know.
Alien
I don't usually find monster movies scary, but Alien is a huge exception to that. Part of the reason why the film works so well is because it keeps building and building- the crew of the towing vessel Nostromo faces an enemy that quickly adapts to its environment as it grows. We get a glimpse of the titular xenomorph more than an hour into the proceedings, when Brett (Harry Dean Stanton) heads into the bowels of the ship to find the tiny alien which burst from the chest of a crewmate just hours earlier. The alien is no longer a chestburster, though: it's grown into a hugely tall, drooling, dual-mouth-wielding, acid-blood-squirting badass. Yeah, didn't expect that.
In related news, I want to open a sci-fi-themed strip club called The Titular Xenomorph.
The Descent
Our plucky spelunkers of Neil Marshall's The Descent are pretty well fucked about 20 minutes in. After a section of the uncharted cave they're exploring collapses, they desperately search for a way out...and then stupid ol' Holly (Nora-Jane Noone) goes and injures herself, putting a serious damper on a decidedly crappy day. Oh yeah- and they're not alone.
Marshall gives us quick glances here and there, enough to let us know that there's something in the depths with the women, but we don't get a good look at the crawlers for almost an hour...but when we do, it's a complete shock. As their dire situation causes the women to begin to panic, their infrared camera pans around and a crawler is THERE, having snuck up behind them silently. Yes, I use "snuck" even though it's not a real word, because it sounds cooler than "sneaked". My tenuous grasp on the English language aside, the sequence is fucking brilliant, a highlight of the terrifically terrifying film.
The Texas Chain Saw Massacre
Holy crap, whaddayou know: Tobe Hooper is responsible for two out of my five choices!
In the first half hour of the film, a van full of teenagers deals with a lot of bad stuff- the unrelenting Texas sun, the crazy hitchhiker who brandishes a knife at them (and himself), Franklin whining and eating a sausage- but it all leads up to the horrors inside the isolated farmhouse that Kirk and Pam find. There's a generator running, but no one seems to be home...when Kirk heads inside to investigate, his curiosity is piqued by the squeals of a pig emanating from a strange doorway that's bedecked with animal skulls. Of course, it's not a pig- it's Leatherface. He appears in a close-up, and before we even know what's happening, he's bashed Kirk over the head and dragged him inside the mysterious room. He slams the door shut without a word, and it's on. It's absolute horror movie perfection.
So there you go, my five faves. I must say, I'm slightly less cranky now, having written about some of the best scenes horror has to offer...unless it's just the Thunderbird I've chugged while writing this. Either way, I feel so pretty!
Nope, this isn't horror-related so brace yourself: today is the birthday of one Mr. John Waters, and I can't let the occasion pass without posting something from one of my favoritest movies (of his or otherwise), Female Trouble. This scene seems like the most obvious, so here you go.
"I hate you, fuck you! Fuck you, both you awful people!" Oh, I could watch it all day. Divine was a unicorn.
We here at Final Girl, a division of StacieCo Enterprises, appreciate your patience. We will resume horror programming shortly.
So, how 'bout those Oscars, huh? Though Heidi and I will be discussing them TOMORROW on the premiere episode of The Scare-ening, I wanted to touch on them briefly here at The Old FG Place.
I am so excited about The Scare-ening. Sorry, just had to say that.
First of all, yes, the tribute to horror montage. A few clips were included that had most of us horror nerds scratching our heads and frothing at the fangs (Edward Scissorhands? Beetlejuice?)- yes, the appearance of Twilight was pandering- but come on now. What do we expect? It's the Oscars. While I think that some of the greatest films of all time fall under the horror umbrella, the tribute was a bit out of place and, frankly, bizarre. It was a little à propos of nothing, wasn't it? While that made it all the more awesome...well, I don't know. Maybe I'm in the "I'll take what I can get for now" camp with regards to horror being acknowledged by the mainstreamiest of mainstream Hollywood events. They showed Leprefuckingchaun and mongoloid baghead Jason crashing through a window. While Lauren Bacall sat in the audience and watched. That, my friends, is gold.
Let's not forget that Roger Corman got an Academy Award, as did Bob Murawski. So, there's that.
Then, of course, there's Kathryn Bigelow's win. I don't want to get into it too much (ahem, The Scare-ening, cough), but...it's a big deal. It's a really big deal- and yes, I say "big deal" bearing in mind that it's about movies and not, like, curing cancer. In terms of film, however, it's huge, for so many reasons. The sight of her clutching her two Oscars is not one that's likely to leave my brain place anytime soon- and I'm sure most every horror fan was thinking about Near Dark.
While we're not forgetting about things, let's not forget about Quentin, either...or, lawd help me, Eli Roth sitting there, pomaded within an inch of his life. Overall, horror had a damn fine night at the Kodak.
It's kind of funny- when Near Dark was a Film Club pick just about two years ago, I wrote "Remember Kathryn Bigelow?"- not that she hadn't done anything over the years, obviously, but it had been a while since her name had been tossed around. Little did we (or, maybe just I) know that she was cooking up The Hurt Locker, and that with it she'd make history and it's really so fucking cool I can't take it.
But enough about that. Until tomorrow.
Over at Halloween Addict, the aforementioned horror montage has been broken down. One or two clips are unidentified...get your magnifying glass out and solve the mystery (I'm right about A Nightmare on Elm Street, though, dangnabbit)!
Proving that the Oscars ain't the only Awards show in town, The Vault of Horror's Brian Solomon has once again wrangled the Cyber-Horror Awards into existence. Mind you, these are not awards for movies about cyber-horror (unfortunately). No, these awards are chose by people who write about horror in a cyber-fashion. I am one of these people! I think I got one category right, which probably proves something or other.
You probably haven't been wondering what happened to 23:45, but I'm going to tell you anyway. I had to slow that shit down, y'all! I blasted through all of my movies in a couple of months. Well, not all of them, exactly, but the stuff on DVD that I've already seen. I don't want to spoil movies I've yet to see, and VHS is a bitch for screencaps. But! There will be more on the way, just...you know, once a week or so. I decided to flip that number, though, and start 54:32 simply because I can. I think it's neat, okay? So in just a few moments...hold onto your pants...I'll have the first one posted. Whatever will it be?
One of my favorite things about horror movies is the all-too-rare "completely effing incongruous song". Now, I'm not talking about a misguided soundtrack, or the awful generic heavy metal that is constantly droning throughout most indie horror flicks.
Tangent: what's up with that, anyway? Are directors afraid of silence and/or ambient noise? TURN OFF THE MUSIC, IT WILL BE OKAY.
Sorry, had to get that off my chest. Now, what I am talking about, Willis, is the random song that doesn't much fit with the mood or atmosphere of the film whatsoever. This song may have you scratching your head. This song may pull you out of the moment- but the rarest of the rare pulls you out of the moment with straight-up awesomeness. Such is the case with these, my five favorite WTF? horror movie songs. I listen to them on my iPod because I am that hip (tell me I'm hip!). Here they are, in total countdown to YESSSS! order.
Before we get to The Cow Who Can Act, we're treated to some truly bizarre music during the opening credits: "Peaceful Verde Valley" by Dorsey Burnette. I'm not sure what kind of mood this song is supposed to establish, exactly: perhaps the peace of our verde valleys is meant to be ironi-tastic. Who cares? You know you want to sing along.
Phew, had to get that out. This 1986 movie might suffer from a case of the "What the Fuck Am I?"s- is it a slasher? a possession movie? a musical?- but what it doesn't suffer is a lack of I love it-ness. It's such a product of its time...and if you love 80s horror as much as I do, you'd be a jerk not to love Killer Party.
Oh my God, this song is so good! It accompanies both the opening and closing credits...and best of all, it's sung by the actresses who play the three leads (Vivia, Jennifer, and Phoebe).
WHY ISN'T KILLER PARTY ON DVD? I feel like starting an internet petition.
Short and oh so sweet is this little interlude in the opening story, "Father's Day", which finds Cass and Hank getting down. Thoughts:
1) I should have included this in my AMC column about horror movie dance scenes 2) Cass was total 80s white hotness 3) I love that this is recorded right from the movie and you can hear Cass's bangles...bangling 4) What the fuck kind of dance was Ed Harris doing, anyway?
I know plenty of people who dig this David Hess-flavored rape-fest of a movie, but it's not really to my taste. What is to my taste, however, is this amazing track that accompanies a rapist-rapee dance sequence during a party at said house on said edge of said park. How can such a great song come from such a terrible film? How??
One of these days I've got to write up some sort of review of Maniac, a film frequently slapped with the "misogynist" label- erroneously slapped, in my opinion. It's a fine line between being misogynist and being about misogyny, and I find Maniac to be in the latter category. It's not an easy movie to watch, and it's certainly not an overall pleasant experience- though it does contain some of the best stalking scenes in all of horrordom.
Whatever Maniac may be, however, it does clearly feature the MACK DADDY of fucking great incongruous horror movie songs with "Showdown". Amidst all the graphic violence, there's a scene that features sweaty creepster Joe Spinell breathing heavily while the object of his affection, Caroline Munro, photographs fashion models (that's her spouting direction and encouragement in the song). So so so sooooo good. Yippee...ki yo...ki YAAAAAAAAY!
Since the rest of the world posted their End O' the Decade Specials, you know, weeks ago, I figured this would be the perfect time for me to do the same. Always on the cutting edge, c'est moi! So, what exactly is it that I've assembled here? Well, it's simply a list of horror movies I've really enjoyed from the last decade. That's it. I'm not saying they're "the best", and they're not the only horror movies I've liked- in fact, I'm not quite sure what criteria I used in choosing titles beyond "Would I watch it again? Why, yes I would!" Therefore, this list is rather Final Girl-specific...in other words, there's probably lauded films you'll be surprised to find missing, and some real pieces of crap you'll be surprised to find included, but that's just how we do here at the ol' FG. That said, there are plenty of good movies I've yet to see- at least, I hope there are- so feel free to shout 'em out loud in the comments.
I meant to include ten films from each year to make a nice-n-weighty (that's my style) master list, but damn...some years just stunk and I had a tough time finding even a couple of titles to feature (2005, I'm looking at you!). On the other hand, 2007 and 2008 saw some fucking terrific movies. Oh, and release dates/years might be wonky, as they sometimes are, but again- that's just how we do. Links to reviews are provided, if I done reviewed 'em. Oh, and they're not in any particular order, but I'm going to put an asterisk next to my favorite selection from that specific year. A couple years, phew, it was a tough choice. Anyway, without further ado...
And there you go. Don't you feel more fulfilled now? I know I do.
So wait, those asterisks...does that mean that I liked The Convent more than I liked American fucking Psycho? Yes, it's true. Of the two, is The Convent the better film? Most certainly not. But "quality" doesn't always relate to "entertainment value", and I had more fun with the day-glo nuns. That's just the way it goes sometimes, homies. There's no accounting for taste.
2008 and 2009 were perhaps the most difficult for me to choose a "favorite". Did I actually enjoy Martyrs? That's really really not the right word, but it's a film I'm still thinking about months after seeing it...it's a film I'm still trying to wrap my head around enough to even write up something on it, something that the movie deserves. So yeah, I guess it was my favorite of that year. For 2009, it really came down to Drag Me to Hell and Orphan, for I so loved them both and had a grand time with each. Esther faltered a bit in the final lap, however, so the prize goes to the yuck-toothed gypsy. Hooray!
Looking back at the decade, it's remarkable how far the genre evolved between 2000- coming off the age of Scream and "WB horror"- and 2009. First of all, the WB doesn't exist anymore. Second, it seems that filmmakers are responding to the desires of the audiences (whether consciously or not) for smarter, more thought-provoking, effing scarier films. Sure there's always going to be stuff for us to complain about, from remakes to sucky sequels to general lameness, but if there's one thing I've learned from this post, it's that it's a great time to be a horror fan.
So this is it, my big 1000th post. Though I really have nothing profound to say (shock), I couldn't let the moment pass by without acknowledging it somehow. I marked the occasion of my 500th post with a rather lengthy entry describing Final Girl's humble roots and highlighting a few of my favorite posts. Wow, I just noticed that my 500th hit on November 20, 2007- almost two years ago to the day. That's surely significant of something...? Probably not. Anyway, what's happened in the two years since my last major milestone?
Since post #500...
...I think we can all agree that one of the best things that's happened around here has been the introduction of Briefcase Woman, who came along one fine day in May, 2008 to demonstrate the joys that can be had when one votes. Since then, she's spread her enthusiasm all over this blog like...like...well, let's honor her origins and vote for an apt simile, shall we?
...the Final Girl Film Club keeps chugging along, powered by the awesomeness of The Internet. We've covered a whopping 18 films since post 500, and there's no sign of stopping yet. Next up: The Wicker Man on December 14. What movies would you like to nominate for FGFC coverage? Before you answer, take a quick peek at my reviews archive to make sure I haven't already reviewed it.
...I made a movie- a few, really. Ludlow will be ready for mass consumption soon, a thought that's as terrifying as it is metaphorical boner-inducing.
...I've written 85 columns for AMC (holy crapping crap) and I've started contributing to Rue Morgue magazine. Both make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
...this little site just keeps on keepin' on, mostly business as usual. Reviews, stupid pictures, blah blah blah. As you know, I love Final Girl more than Donkey Kong loves throwing barrels at plumbers. While I could write exclusively for myself and be somewhat satisfied (being an only child grants me a +15 to both mana regeneration and my ability to entertain myself) (sorry, I've been playing Dragon Age: Origins) (it's so fucking awesome)...well, it wouldn't be the same without you guys reading it. Again, I say hooray!
Okay, now tell me what's been your favorite post or feature or whatevs here on Final Girl so I feel pretty.
What? I'm allowed to fish for ego-stroking compliments every 500 posts, that's the rule I made up.
Y'all, I have an unabiding, irrational, and unconditional love for Brittany Murphy...the kind of love you have for an actor that makes you sit through movies you wouldn't normally watch with 10-foot eyeballs (yes, I've seen Uptown Girls), the kind that causes you to deny all the rumors outright (even when you hear them from a really good source), the kind that makes you sad when the actor's career ends up...not where it should be.
She gets such a bad rap in the court of public opinion for...well, I don't know why, really. There are other celebrities out there raping, murdering, drunk driving, having affairs- yet Murphy is almost universally maligned for making some bad movies and assumptions about her private life. Really, though, that's all neither nor there, and as I said I deny all rumors anyway. The point is, I think she's a rather extraordinary actress who's vastly underappreciated. Once the elder generation of lauded actresses retires- the Dench-caliber ladies- who the fuck from the younger generation is going to take up the crown? It's a short list, in my opinion, and I hope Murphy can pull her career out of the basement to join it.
Yeah, she underwent some sort of transformation that seems, to be, "Hollywood" mandated and yeah, she'd made some caca mainstream movies that flopped. But then there's Clueless (fucking classic), and there's Girl, Interrupted- the film for which Angelina Jolie got all the glory. Jolie's performance is pretty damn good but it feels a bit showy to me, all surface- contrast it with Murphy's turn (or Angela Bettis's, for that matter), where there's a few more layers added to your standard "crazy" character. Watch Spun, watch some King of the Hill, watch Sin City and Common Ground and Freeway and for fuck's sake watch The Dead Girl, a fantastic movie which she (along with Toni Collette, Kerry Washington, Mary Beth Hurt, and Marcia Gay Harden) tears up, and see what you think. She's got range, and she's one of those few actors who has the ability to make you forget their real name while they're on screen...at least for me, but again, this is maybe an irrational thing.
She's dabbled in horror a bit, most notably in the darkly comedic slasher flick Cherry Falls, which I really need to get around to reviewing. There, now I've tied this odd diatribe about one of my favorite actresses into my usual content here at Final Girl. Hooray!
It's a wonder to me that Mausoleum and I have both been walking this planet since 1983, yet last night marked the first time we'd crossed paths. Approximately three minutes after I started playing the DVD, I realized that I'd found my one true soulmate. It doesn't matter where Mausoleum has been all my life- the important thing is that we've found each other at last, and we're now destined to walk the earth together!
Whilst visiting her mother's grave, li'l Susan decides she no longer wants to live with her Aunt Cora. She takes off running through the graveyard, stopping only when she hears someone whisper-singing her name. She peeks inside one mausoleum, but then spots another one across the way that's far more interesting in that it features its own weather system.
She enters the crypt, which is all lit up in greens and purples like the finest Spencer's Gifts. We learn that this is the tomb of the Nomed family...yes, NOMED. That's some seriously Nilbog shit, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, a clawed hand rises from the sarcophagus, things that defy explanation happen, and Susan's eyes light up all green and make a laser noise. The girl done went and got herself possessed!
Fast forward! Susan is now all grown up- she's portrayed by ex-Playboy Bunny Bobbie Bresee and she's married to Marjoe fucking Gortner. A charmed life, you say? It's easy to assume so, but there's a dark side to this fairytale existence! See, a woman of Susan's...err, attributes finds herself constantly subjected to the lechy gaze of creepy weirdo peeping tom gardeners and creepy weirdo Dan Haggerty-esque disco patrons.
All Susan wanted to do was go dancing with her husband (yes, Marjoe fucking Gortner disco dances!), but that Dan Haggerty-esque jerk made it so difficult that she was left with no choice but to use her magic green gaze to set his car on fire while he was locked inside.
The next day, the creepy gardener makes a bold pass at Susan while her husband is at work- her eyes get their green on and we know it's time for some demonic justice! But not before we bear witness to an eerily silent montage that clues us in as to just what, in fact, a gardener does with his day after making a pass at his employer:
He puts down fertilizer!
He mows the lawn!
He reads whilst eating lunch!
He takes a nap on the dock!
He sharpens his axe...
...and uses it!
Finally, Susan gets around to launching Operation: Get Back At The Grope-y Gardener: she strolls out onto her balcony wearing only a towel, then sips Riunite as if she's straight from a Jackie Collins novel.
Okay, in reality that's only Phase One of her plan. She continues the seduction approximately 9 hours later, when it's pitch black outside...insert helpful moon shot!
Susan's plan includes actually sleeping with the gardener- boy, this really teaches him a lesson! He suggests they partake in another round, but instead, Susan does her green-eyed thing, turns into some sort of a monster, and kills him with a garden implement. Okay, I guess that really teaches him a lesson.
Soon enough, Susan's victims don't actually have to trespass against her in order for her to unleash the NOMED lurking inside. Poor Aunt Cora, for example, shows up for a visit only to find herself floating around and killed dead thanks to her monsteriffic niece.
One person spared Susan's wrath is Elsie the maid (LaWanda Page...yes, Aunt Esther from Sanford & Son!). Intended as comic relief, Elsie is, in fact, a whopping slice of politically incorrect pie. Yet while she's given to saying things like "Great googily moogily!", Elsie is a rarity in that she's a black character who makes it 'til the end of the picture. When faced with a green fog emanating from Susan's bedroom, Elsie admits there's "Some strange shit goin' on in this house!", yells "No more grievin', I'm leavin'!", and splits.
There's so much more to Mausoleum, but I don't want to give away the whole package, as everyone should be allowed to discover it for him- or herself. Director Michael Dugan has truly given the world a gift! However, a few highlights:
- Susan undergoes hypnosis where she reveals her NOMED nature and corn teeth!
- There's the use of the term "facial fantasy" - Dialogue includes "Yes...there's a history of possession." - When possessed, Susan's depravity has no limits- she steals art from the mall! - Something happens- I cannot reveal what it is, for you must witness it with your own eyes, but suffice it to say, it causes Marjoe fucking Gortner to pull what can only be called a Ridiculous Face of Pre-Death:
- While Mausoleum makes no sense as a whole, the very last shot of the film is so illogical that it actually defies the laws of science and mathematics. Even if you've never seen the film, your guess as to what the fuck is going on here is as good as mine:
- Then we get the end credits, which feature a tender song called "Free Again", written and sung by Frank Primato. It boasts lyrics like "Let's blow the fire dead...that's burning in my head..." and it's every bit as dreadful as you think it would be.
In case you haven't guessed, Mausoleum is a terrible, terrible film. The acting is horrendous, the dialogue atrocious, and the timing between the players is so off that every scene comes across like rejected audition tapes. There's a charm to Bobbie Bresee, but it's one borne of a performance that feels bathed in quaaludes. The sound is awful, as if there's a muted coffee pot percolating somewhere just off camera for the duration of the film. The direction is all but incompetent at times with dull compositions, pointless zooms and pans, and bizarre insert shots. The end of the film, featuring the "exorcism" (I use that term wicked loosely), takes 20 minutes but should only take seven. The creature effects, by genre vet John Carl Buechler, are '80s-style cheesy.
All of that is true, but oh how I loved this movie! I never wanted it to end, ever. On a scale of 1-10, I'd honestly rate it infinity. Lawd help me, it's true- the depths of deliciousness achieved are face-rockingly limitless. Forgive me, Shark Attack 3: Megalodon...step aside, Pieces...there's a new love of my life, and its name is Mausoleum!
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.
Okay, so I live on the lower left coast, where the leaves don't change until January (if they change at all)...and Ben Cooper costumes are a thing of the way way past. Just let me have my Halloween-time delusions, won't you? It's the most wonderful time of the year!
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!
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
As for moi, I'm heading back to my SHOCKTOBER roots and watching & reviewing a movie every day for the duration of the month- the caveat being that I'll only feature movies I've never seen before. Old stuff, new stuff, great stuff, bad stuff, B & W, cullah, stuff I should've seen long ago but lamed out on...it's all up for grabs. I'm really excited to dive back into the daily madness. I've even got a few of my famous (to me) butt-numbingmarathons planned. And other stuff.
Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother a reader or a blogger, there's not doubt: SHOCKTOBER is the best time to be a genre fan!
Hey, remember a few weeks ago when I was all, "Yeah, so I'm inking this comic book and the penciler is this guy named Brent Schoonover and he's really a terrific artist!"? And remember how we all drooled over his Creature from the Black Lagoon illustration?
Yeah, well...feast your peepers on what arrived in my mailbox today.
Click! Make big! I'm still pinching myself over the gross beauty of this 11" x 14" inch amazingness. Go to his website, get some Brent art, and let's all pinch ourselves together! HOLY CRAP!
It's time to choose another movie for the communal experience known as The Final Girl Film Club. I am super duper triple dipple wicked mega excited about October Shocktober's pick...almost as excited as I am about Shocktober itself! I'm heading back to my slasher roots to pick a movie I've talked about here at The Old FG Place many times, but I've never properly reviewed...folks, please give it up for...
SLAUGHTER HIGH!
A decade after a cruel prank against a fellow student went horribly awry, eight friends receive a mysterious invitation to a "private" reunion at their now-closed high school, where they come face-to-face with a frightening figure from their past. One by one, the once-popular former students fall victim to a twisted, bloody fate, and the only person laughing now is the one getting revenge.
That's the Netflix description...here's the link for those of you who get your movies in that oh so modern fashion. Me? I'll be watching a cruddy old VHS copy. It's totally appropriate.
Super psyched!!
The film: Slaughter High The due date: Monday, October 19
As always, email your links to me at stacieponder at gmail.com. Include a link to Final Girl in your write-up and you're GTG!
Actually, "meet" is too gentle a word to use for our introduction to this mystery man. Suddenly, oh so suddenly, he's there- BAM, in your face like an edgy comedian or an energy drink. We may have suspected that Mr. Barlow was the king of the new crop of vamps floating and biting their way around town, but no one could have suspected he'd look like that, like your worst possible nightmare come to life. Not. Cool.
Oh, and when getting these screencaps I noticed that this...
...is a copy of The Craft. Thought you might like to know.
In related news, I want to open a sci-fi-themed strip club called The Titular Xenomorph.
So there you go, my five faves. I must say, I'm slightly less cranky now, having written about some of the best scenes horror has to offer...unless it's just the Thunderbird I've chugged while writing this. Either way, I feel so pretty!
