Entries Tagged 'Final Girl FIlm Club' ↓

Gather 'round, yon children, as the Final Girl Film Club takes a wondrous trip back to a time when black & white was where it wuz at and Sid Haig had a hairless face! Lo, my friends, let us watch and discuss Jack Hill's 1968 blackcomedisploitation classic...SPIDER BABY! Or, The Maddest Story Ever Told. Hey, whatever floats your hereditary neurological disorder.

It's on Netflix instant watch and available for cheap in all the world's finest stores. Why, I got a copy on VHS for the low, low price of one dollar! Or, The Maddest Price of One Hundred Pennies.

EDITED TO ADD: You can download Spider Baby for free from the Internet Archive. Now you have no excuse not to participate. For that, you can thank reader The Dreaded Rhubarb!

The film: Spider Baby
The dude date (typo that stays): Monday, April 12

True (and possibly gross) story: A long time ago in a galaxy...well, in this galaxy, I lived with someone. One fine evening this so-called Co-Habi-Tron 2000 got a stomach bug and barfed. Barfed on the way to the bathroom. Now, I've not had a stomach bug since 1st grade and I've never had food poisoning. I'm not a vomiter, unless...yes, there have been some alcohol-related times but what can you do? I live on the edge, and I always fight for my right to party.

Ahem.

Anyway, this sudden display of not being in control of one's body completely freaked me out. It broke my brain. Really. I became paranoid about catching the stomach bug. I spent the next 2 weeks fixated on perceived feelings of nausea: "Am I gonna throw up? Am I gonna...yes, I think...ohh...I'm...eh, never mind." I never got that bit of flu (awesome) and I never barfed, but no matter: as I said...brain broken. I got paranoid about eating in restaurants for fear of food poisoning. As everyone else in the world has had it at one time or another, I grilled everybody: What's it like? How did you know you had it? How long did you have it? Where did you eat? Whenever someone at work said he had the "flu", I had to ask if it was a cold or a puke thing. I couldn't watch anyone barfing in movies or shows or what have you.

I don't know why it happened or why it continued so long. It was ridiculous. Then all of a sudden I was better. Brains are funny that way, I guess.

Another true (less gross, more juvenile) story: There is an office building along the highway near my hometown that has windows on one side laid out like this:


To me, this place has become known as The Tit Building. Generally people don't know what building I'm talking about when I mention it as a point of reference...but I cannot unsee the word "TIT" spelled out in its windows. It baffles me that it got past the blueprint stage.

I tell you these two anecdotes not simply because my life is so incredibly fascinating...no! I tell you because both anecdotes came to mind while I was watching Uzumaki (2000), the tale of a small Japanese town that falls under the curse of the vortex.

It all starts innocently enough. People "act a bit funny". A man spends several hours quietly videotaping the swirl of a snail's shell. Soon enough, however, many of the citizens of Kurouzu are completely obsessed with the vortex pattern- like, obsessed to the point that they begin to harm themselves in some incredibly grotesque ways. Everywhere they look, they see the spirals. Their brains are broken by the curse, and the only hope, it seems, is to remove all signs of the spiral from their environment. That sounds easy enough, but ask yourself this: is a life without Pecan Spins a life worth living?

Uzumaki starts out as a bit of a kooky fairy tale; the music is exceedingly incongruous with the action, and it almost plays as a horror-comedy. By the time the words "There is still a spiral in your ear..." are spoken, however, it crosses over into the land of dread and mindfuckery. In a word, it's creepy.

None of it is really explained, so you're going to be left with questions in the end, like: Why is the town cursed, exactly? And...how do people turn into giant snails...? But this is an imaginative, bizarre just take the ride kind of horror film, and as such it's both unsettling and entertaining. The idea that thoughts can become obsessive to the point where they lead you to break as many of your own bones as possible- and you think it's a capital plan- is truly terrifying. I'm glad I got over my weird puke obsession when I did.

Yes yes, I'm sure Junji Ito's manga that provides the basis for this film is better than the film itself. I've never read it, although I know I should. And I will, one of these days. You don't need to remind me, Bossy!

Film Club Coolies, y'all!
--------------------------------
Parry Game Preserve
firthofforth
In One Ear...
Sinema Obscura
The Horror Section
Va's The Cinema Experience
The United Provinces of Ivanlandia
Pussy Goes Grrr

...let's get WEIRD! For the next meeting of the ol' Final Girl Film Club, let's all try to wrap our minds around the 2000 film Uzumaki.


I've never seen it or read the comic it's based on, but both have long been on my list. I say it's time to make the leap from dreams to reality! From the Netflix description (yes, y'all, it's available there):

Discover Akiro Higuchi's groundbreaking film, Uzumaki (which means vortex), an aptly named masterpiece about a town gripped with fear because of the menacing march of an otherworldly force that threatens to destroy the area and turn its residents into ghastly snails. Can a young girl, Kirie (Eriko Hatsume), and her paramour, Shuichi (Fhifan), save their homes and neighbors? Or are they the next victims of the unstoppable force?

Mmm, a big helping of Japanese cinema with a side of wackadoo. I'm so excited I could puke!

The film: Uzumaki (2000)
The due date: Monday, March 1

You know the drill...link to me in your write-up, then shoot yer URL to me at stacieponder(at)gmail(dot)com.

I want to make out with Mario Bava's Black Sabbath. I want Black Sabbath to like me in that sort of desperate way, the way you feel when you're smitten with someone who's so much cooler than you are, someone who's prettier and has an accent and manages to command a room by simply walking into it. Mmm, Black Sabbath. I tre volti della paura. The Three Faces of Fear. Whatever you call it, this 1963 movie has style and atmosphere and it's an anthology and yes, an accent...so what's not to love? Nothin', that's what! There, now that that's settled...

Bava does away with any attempt at a typical lame framing narrative by simply having star Boris Karloff stand in front of a candy-colored screen and let us know that...well, that we're going to watch a movie. It will be a journey into the supernatural, we'll be scared, etc etc. It's all rather trippy and mood-setting, but it's a bit of a bummer that Karloff's wonderful voice is dubbed over in Italian. Still, it's good that we don't waste any time before getting down to business.

Preceding Black Christmas, When a Stranger Calls, Scream, and all the other great terror-on- the-telephone flicks, this segment features Rosy (Michele Mercier), a young woman who comes home one fine evening and immediately receives a series of threatening phone calls.

As the calls coincide with the prison escape of her violent ex-boyfriend, she's rightfully anxious about the whole "You're gonna die tonight!" thing. To ease her mind, Rosy calls Mary (Lidia Alfonsi) and asks her to come over. It turns out that Mary is another of Rosy's exes, and she may also have nefarious plans for Mary...

Mua ha ha! There are several twists and turns in The Telephone, and it all zips by like one of those summer breezes that makes you feel fine. There's a minimal amount of dialogue, the action is confined to a single set, and it's pure tension barfed up on screen. We all know that tension is best when it's barfed up, so it goes without saying that The Telephone is a success. Before the premise overstays its welcome, we're whisked away to the magical land of...


A family, living way out in the woodsy middle of nowhere, awaits the return of their patriarch Gorca (Boris Karloff), anxious that he may have succumbed to the curse of the wurdulak, a type of vampire who craves the blood of its loved ones. When Gorca finally arrives (bearing the head of an eeeevil cursed Turk), it's difficult for everyone to discern whether or not he's been transformed...what's not difficult to discern, however, is that Gorca alarmingly resembles something a cat would cough up.

So begins a long night of waiting and suspecting- who, if anyone, has become a wurdulak? Wouldn't you like to be a wurdulak, too? Again, Bava employs minimal yap yap; there are lengthy passages, silent save for a constant wind, throughout the segment that create a feeling of creeping dread. When these periods of quiet are broken by the sound of a dog howling or, even more frighteningly, the pleas of a child thought dead, the effect is startling.

Bava truly captures the feel of a gothic fairytale in The Wurdulak; the colors and the artifice of the sets (interspersed with real outdoor locations) make it play out like a Hammer film by way of Dario Argento. The pace may be slow, but the visuals are scrumptious. It's tempting to simply post the entire segment frame by frame, but that would perhaps imply some sort of mania on my behalf, so here are a mere few of my favorites.





The first two stories in Black Sabbath may leave you riding high, but it only gets better: Bava saves the best for last.

A nurse is called to the home of a recently-deceased countess; the body needs to be dressed and the resident housekeeper is way too skeezed out to do it. And who can blame her? If I walked into that bedroom and was confronted by this visage:

...I'd probably just go squat in a corner and cry.

It seems that the reclusive countess was heavy into séances and the like, trying for whatever reason to make contact with the spirit world. The local populace believes that it was this tinkering with ghosts that killed her, not the reported heart attack.

Nursie doesn't buy into the mumbo jumbo and quickly does her duty, pausing only to swipe a ring off the corpse's finger. As you may have guessed, this is a big karmic no-no. The countess doesn't look kindly on this from her perch in the afterlife, and the nurse (who I kept pretending was actually somehow Diana Scarwid) soon learns that pre-grave robbing is not a good idea. In a word*, The Drop of Water is hair-raisingly creepy, outright terrifying, and more than worth your ticket price to Black Sabbath.

In a bizarre, brief, 4th wall-breaking outro, Karloff lets us know that he hopes we enjoyed our journey into the supernatural. Yes, Boris, I truly did. Black Sabbath is a true Creep Show, all old school storytelling and oodles of atmosphere. I like it so very much...I just hope it likes me back.



*may be more than one word

By the way, I'm counting this film towards Category 1 in Operation: 101010!


Film Club Coolies, y'all!
--------------------------------
Nilbog Milk
Moving Pictures - Haiku Film Reviews
The United Provinces of Ivanlandia
Banned in Queensland
In One Ear...
namtab
The House of Sparrows
Things That Don't Suck
United Monkee
Film Shuffle
firthofforth
emma blackwood
Mother Firefly's Faster Pussycats!
Mondo Bizarro
RJ Battles

Hmm, what a bold statement to make in my post title, no? NO! Because for the next round of Film Club joy, I want to watch Black Sabbath (or, as the Eye-talians call it, I tre volti della paura). Those of you who have seen it know that it is indeed an awesome movie. Those of you who will be seeing it for the first time- well, you're in for a treat.

This 1963 anthology film by Mario Bava stars Boris Karloff. That is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Netflixers, it's available so get ta queuein'! I'm so ready!

The film: Black Sabbath
The dude date (typo that stays): Monday, January 25...2010! So futuristic.

If you are particularly astute, you will notice that I have done a comic for this month's installment of the Film Club.

If you are super wicked astute, you will notice that I just darkened the pencils rather than inking the strip. This was my effort to give the comic an old-timey, vintage feel.

That, or I was just feeling lazy. Either way, clicking makes 'em big!






Film Club Coolies, y'all!
----------------------------
Nilbog Milk
Creature Cast
Slammed & Damned
Invasion of the B-Movies
Zombie Cupcake
Hey! Look Behind You!
The Verdant Dude
Mike Petrik
The Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense
emmanation
In One Ear...
namtab
Pussy Goes Grrr
Movie Reviews and Everything Else
Mother Firefly's Faster Pussycats
Things That Don't Suck
The United Provinces of Ivanlandia
Mermaid Heather (she's back...one of us! one of us!)
Emma Blackwood

Don't forget, y'all: come Monday, all the cool kids will be twirlin' 'round the flag pole and discussing The Wicker Man. Lest you care to find yourself the laughing stock of your friends, your neighbors, their pets, The Internet, and all the world over, then give it a watch!

Those who write about it can send links to their reviews to me at stacieponder at gmail dot com dot org dot ca dot dot dot.

Pagans ahoy!

Dear y'all,

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?


...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?



Hooray!

...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.

Here's to 10,000 more posts! HUZZAH!

Wow kids, sorry it's taken so long for me to pick the next...pick for Film Club. What matters now is that I've gone and done it. Behold, for I'll say it now:

The Wicker Man (1973)!

Please note, I'm talking about the original version, the Christopher Lee and his crazy hair edition- NOT the Nicolas Cage in a bear suit remake. Was Nicolas Cage in a bear suit in the remake? I think he was...or he kicked a bear-suited person in the face or something like that. I don't know, I haven't seen it. Maybe I will...maybe I won't. But no matter the direction my whims take me in the future, this installment is all about the '70s, baby. Netflixers, click here!

The film: The Wicker Man (1973)
The due date: Monday, December 14

As always, email your review to me at: stacieponder at gmail dot com. Be sure to include a link to Final Girl in your post!

Oh, Film Clubbers, I'm guessing that some of you (if not all of you) had a hard time making it through Slaughter High (1986). It's not a great movie by any means, or even good. However, it has a special place in my heart and of this I am not ashamed. I'm not ashamed I tells ya!

Marty Rantzen is a high school nerd who's picked on and humiliated by all the cool kids. An April Fool's joke goes about 50 miles too far, and Marty ends up in the hospital covered in horrible burns. Ten years later, the cool kids all receive invitations to a class reunion...and one by one, they all die die die.

I'm not going to delve into gobs of details recapping the plot, because Slaughter High follows the standard slasher movie formula: a traumatic event breaks someone's brain, then that someone seeks revenge on the perpetrators of said event. The film hit towards the end of the slasher heyday, and it's undoubtedly a fairly lethargic entry in the genre. Still, as I said...I kind of love this movie. Those of you who've seen it may not understand how that's possible, so I'll make with why:

• The score is by a slumming Harry Manfredini, who utilizes his famous Friday the 13th work for a sting.
• Slaughter High comes to the world courtesy of the Sultan of Sleaze, producer Dick Randall...who also gave the world a little something called Pieces. That should tell you all you need to know before you even press PLAY! Randall briefly appears in Slaughter High as film agent Manny, who's got a Pieces poster on the wall of his office.
• The "prank gone awry" in the film is one of the most horrible in all of slasherdom: after being lured into nudity with the promise of sex, Marty is photographed and laughed at by his classmates...then he's subjected to some mild electrocution...then he's given a swirly...then he's given a fake joint that causes him to barf...then he's burned with nitric acid and fire. You can't really blame him for being a little pissed off.
• This movie features the most egregious use evarrrrr of actors far too old to play high schoolers as high schoolers: Caroline Munro, for example, was 36 here- a couple of decades beyond her school years.
• Not only are the actors too old for their roles, they're too British. Bad American accents abound, while their native accents peek through from time to time.
• These characters have got to count amongst the stupidest in all of horror movie history. There's a killer on the loose, but they're constantly separating and spending time having sex and taking baths. Their big escape plan involves riding a fucking tractor to safety- surely the killer could never catch up to a vehicle traveling 5 miles an hour.
• The sex scene is AWESOME. Stella, who's a leopard print-clad Markie Post-by way of Jersey-type, seduces Frank with this hotness: " I wanna go to bed with you, Frank." It works, and when she asks for a little mid-coital dirty talk, Frank responds with "Uhh...tits...screw...tits..." It's the best sex scene EVER.
• The aforementioned bath-taker is Shirley, who gives one of my favorite bad line readings of all time when the gang first arrives at the reunion: "C'mon you guys, let's par-deeeeeeee!" I want to make it my ringtone and my unholy life partner. Is that possible?
  

• One of the elaborate killings involved a poisoned can of beer, which causes the drinker's guts to burst through his abdomen Alien-style. Never mind trying to figure out what kind of poison could possibly do that- let's try to solve the mystery of how the poison got inside a sealed beer can!
• Oh yes, the deaths in Slaughter High are indeed elaborate. Running acid through the sewer lines just in case someone decides to take a bath (good thing that panned out!), the poisoned beer, a bed rigged to electrocute whoever's in it just in case someone decides to sleep or have sex (good thing that panned out!)...the set ups are so complicated and impractical that they make Final Destination jealous.

Now, all these bullet points are either going to drive you to the hallowed halls of Slaughter High, or leave you yelling "Fuck that noise!" I suppose it has to do with tolerance levels and the like. Me? I've got a pretty high one. Read on to find out what the rest of the Film Clubbers think...lots of first-timers this month, which is awesometastic. Now let's par-deeeeeeee!

Film Club Coolies, y'all!
-------------------------------
The Verdant Dude
The Horror Section
Exquisitely Bright
Things That Don't Suck
The House of Sparrows
Hey! Look Behind You
namtab
emmanation
The Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense
Video Updates
In One Ear...
Reel Whore
Mr. Cellophane
Kaedrin
Vegan Voorhees
Dave's Blog About Movies and Such
Tim Kirk
My New Plaid Pants
Movie Reviews and Everything Else
Kill Everybody in the Whole World

My dearest dudes, dudettes, and whatevers,

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...

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!

Obviously I opted to do something a little bit different this time around. Also obvious is the fact that I skimmed over a lot, and I didn't really "review" the movie much per se. Then again, I did draw an eyeless Ida Lupino, so that must be worth something!

I also just realized I forgot to use my "Private Club of The Satan's Helpers" joke. Dammit! Oh well. Next time...I'm sure there's plenty of Satanariffic flicks in Final Girl's future. Meanwhile, for more in depth talkin' and reviewin', check out the folks below. Big thanks to all who participated!

Film Club Coolies, y'all!
----------------------------
Video Updates
Tech Noir
Planet of Terror
Tim Kirk
Steph Is Dead
Slammed & Damned
Things That Don't Suck
Movie FanFare
namtab
Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense
Celeberrimous
From the Depths of DVD Hell
Gorillanaut
Film Shuffle
Emma Blackwood
Orchestrated Horror

Yes, it's time for another round of pure "eye-popping action and electrifying thrills" (Earl Dittman, Wireless Magazines) that will "leave your head spinning" (Peter Travers, Rolling Stone) with me, just a gal who's "funny, strong, gorgeous – and ultimately a woman of power and dignity" (Pete Hammond, Maxim)- it's Film Club Choosening Day! Here's what else the critics are saying about today:

“A full-throttle thrill ride.” – Chloe Houser, KPOX-TV
"An intense…riveting…adventure." – Steve Oldfield, FOX-TV
"...nothing less than a national treasure.” - Roger Moore, Orlando Sentinel

As you can see, you're in for quite a treat. But enough with the suspense! Let's get to it. The next Film Club movie is...dun dun dunnnnn...


Yes, my pretties, this FGFC go-round promises to be positively Satantastic. You may remember The Devil's Rain from that time I talked about buying it and I nerdishly pointed out the grammatical errors of the tagline. Or not. Mayhaps this is the first time you're hearing about this beaut from 1975 and you're all meehhh. Well, if that's the case, I've got a whopping 30 words for you to get you excited for this "delight for the eye, thrill for the spine, laugh for the belly, message for the heart, bonbon for children and captivating pleasure for adults!" (Gene Shalit, The Today Show):

Ernest Borgnine Tom Skerritt Ida Lupino John Travolta William Shatner Anton LaVey Eddie Albert Keenan Wynn and did I mention Ernest Borgnine with goat horns because it's totally in there

WOW. That's apparently the DVD menu, something I will miss out on as I will finally be watching my VHS copy. Those of you interested in the more technologically advanced version can find it on Netflix here.

Now, I realize that the due date is a bit far off and I apologize as we're all now dying to dig into The Devil's Rain. Thing is, I've got Ludlow to finish between now and then, and frankly a goat-horned Borgnine deserves my complete attention. Besides, it gives you whores time to pass around that Netflix copy like it's the Clap...I mean, I'm just gonna go out on a limb and say that this film is one the entire world needs to see. The critics agree!

"You will love this movie! " - Sandy Kenyon, WABC-TV
"It will suck you in and rock you to the core. Killer movie!" - Kevin Steincross, KTVI-TV

That last quote is actually about Twilight, just so you know.

The film: The Devil's Rain
The due date: Monday, September 7

Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror (1981) typifies that which we folks around here call a "Tiffany"- that is, this Italian zombiefest coulda been so beautiful, but you simply can't hold what coulda been, dig? The film tackles the standard spaghetti-n-eyeballs formula, at times throwing a few innovations into the genre; somehow, though, this movie that coulda and shoulda been a cult classic ends up just sort of...there.


An archaeologist who bears a striking resemblance to comic creator Alan Moore discovers "an incredible secret" whilst mucking about in a crypt beneath a mansion; one can only assume that it has something to do with the living dead, for soon reanimated, rotting corpses are biting his bearded ass.

Well, not literally. The zombies do make with the munch munch, though, despite the professor's pleas of "Stand back! I'm your friend!" NOTE TO SELF: Zombies care not for friends.

Soon thereafter, a bunch of people show up at the mansion because...umm...they're friends with the professor, I guess, and he wants to tell them all about his incredible secret. It's never fully or clearly explained, but no matter! What's important here is that we get plenty of scenes with a bunch of unappealing people almost having sex, classic lines of dialogue such as "You look just like a little whore- but I like it!", and we're introduced to Michael (Peter Bark), the 40-year-old 12-year-old who looks just like a mini-Dario Argento.

Yes, he's supposed to be a child...a child with some serious mommy issues- but we'll get to that later.

Don't worry, it won't take long to get to Michael. There's not much else to explain in Burial Ground, because there's no story. Zombies show up, people kind of run away or sometimes fight, and that's that. Mind you, I've never seen the walking dead walk slower (seriously, even the Romero Shufflers are all "Can you guys please hurry the eff up? We're hungry, here!"), nor have I ever seen a stupider ragtag group of survivors. They stand there and say things like "They're coming towards us!" as the zombies slooooowwwwly do just that.

By the way, this zombie (whom I nicknamed Marty Feldman) was my favorite:

As I stated earlier, writer Piero Regnoli and director Andrea "Strip Nude for Your Killer" Bianchi add a few welcome innovations to the mix. First, the zombies take to using tools to aid in the pursuit of their prey: from farm implements (!) to battering rams (!!) to a random power saw left plugged into the wall of a rural monastery (!!!), these dudes will do whatever it takes to get their munch munch on. The best sequence, perhaps, comes when the foolish housekeeper dangles herself out the window to check out the happenings, only to have her hand impaled when a zombie- surely some ninja zombie, or perhaps a zombie who was a circus knife-thrower at one time- chucks a spike through it. Then, as you'd expect, the rotters slowly cut her head off with a giant scythe.

Yeah, it's silly, but it's also a frightening twist; zombies are supposed to just stand there, or mill about, or- worst case scenario- run. They're not supposed to throw things, or poke at me with...pointy pokers. And for Charles Nelson Reilly's sake, they're certainly not supposed to climb up anything except maybe stairs! They're not allowed to scale buildings, dammit, but in Burial Ground they do, and it's sort of my worst nightmare come to life. Or unlife. Or whatever.

One element that seems to distinguish Italian zombies from their non-Italian counterparts is the fact that these bastards are fetid corpses, all oatmeal-faced and maggot-covered, who rise from the ground. Elsewhere in cinema, the walking dead are generally just sort of blue-faced and shambling about. I want hands busting through turf a la Creepshow, and I want to smell 'em coming before I see 'em. In this respect, Burial Ground totally delivers.

And now it's time: undoubtedly the most ridiculous and notorious element of the film is l'il pervy Michael. A scene of a mother comforting her son quickly devolves into the viewer crying "Why the fuck is there about to be incest happening on my screen?!" as Michael attempts to feel up mommy, wondering why she refuses to offer some boobage like she did when he was a baby. He's a determined 40-year-old 12-year-old, though, and when Michael is later bitten and transformed, he immediately takes advantage of the situation to get what he wants. It's an absolutely shocking sequence, the dubious highlight of Burial Ground upon which the movie's entire reputation is built.

There's plenty of gut-munching and maggots and zombies galore, but in the end Burial Ground never seems to gel completely into a satisfying whole. I didn't really care about much of anything going on, although it's an interesting piece of Italian zombie cinema, to be sure (if only for the sideshow that is Michael). If nothing else, the film proves one thing: sometimes movies need a plot! Oh, and that zombies care not for friends. So...two things.

Let's put it this way: the typo in the quote that marks the end of the movie somehow makes perfect sense.


Film Club Coolies, y'all!
--------------------------------
The Hougly Film and Beer Journal
Kaedrin
Dave's Blog About Movies and Such
Brutal As Hell
The Film Reel
Banned in Queensland
Full Moon Reviews
Zombie Cupcake
The Verdant Dude
The Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense
namtab
Askewed Views
The Horror Section
The Inevitable Zombie Apocalypse
Rogue Dave
Sam Hawken
Invasion of the B Movies
Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies

Dear My Bitches,

First of all, this post is not hardcore in the least. Actually, it's rather lame. See, I'm knee-deep -- scratch that, I'm fucking xyphoid process-deep in editing Ludlow and I haven't much time to do much of anything except stare at the computer, wondering if what I'm doing is any good. I'll be finished with it early next week, and then... MUA HA HA.

Speak of mua ha ha, here's another screen cap. Oh how provocative.

My point is, I'm totally super big-time sorry that things have been quiet and lame around here, but before you know it I'll be back to watching movies and trying to think of pithy comments just for you. Things won't really heat up- if they ever...you know, actually "heat up"- until it's time for the next Film Club installment, when Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror ushers in AN ENTIRE WEEK of foreign zombie action. Well, foreign to me and my fellow Americans, anyway.

Speaking of zombies and me actually writing stuff, my AMC column this week is all about the many zombie flavors there are available- enough to fetidly fill a Baskin-Robbins.

I'm not sure that entirely makes sense, but anyway.

You can always be my fake cyber-pal if I don't blog enough here to keep up with your absolutely maddening demands. I mean, how would you know that I wanted some pickles today unless you follow me on Twitter? These are the issues that impact my life.