Entries Tagged 'Final Girl FIlm Club' ↓

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!
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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.

Film Club picking time, hooray! This one was a no-brainer...or should I say, an edible-brainer?

No, I shouldn't say that. It makes no sense. Anyway. Ladies, gentlemen, and "others", I give you movie #28 (holy crap!) for the Final Girl Film Club:


Between all this talk of zombies yesterday and the fact that Burial Ground was the far and away winner in my recent "Hey, what should I watch?" informal poll-o-rama, it's the natural choice...and I am a natural woman, so there you go.

Well, technically I only feel like a natural woman, but I suppose that's good enough for now.

Folks, get ready for some super-mad, super-gross, super-makes-no-sense Italian zombie action from director Andrea Bianchi. I can't wait! Even the trailer is grody TO THE MAX.



WOO HOO I SAY. Netflixers can pick up the movie here. The rest of you will have to undertake your own arduous journeys to obtain the film. Be strong, my friends!

The film: Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror
The due date: Monday, July 6

Yes, I realize that's a long ways away, but the end of June is wack for me, so there.

I'm not going to expend a lot of jibber jabber before I get to the nougaty center of this story, which is thus: I totally did not watch Amityville II: The Possession.

I know. Could I BE any more of a lame? No...no, I could not. But gather 'round, all yon children, whilst I weave a tapestry of reasons and excuses to hang on the wall of the Final Girl Film Clubhouse!

Mr. Roper obviously has neither the time nor the inclination to listen to my blathering. He also seems to indicate that he finds the entire affair a little "fruity".*

Anyway, since I announced the selection I kept putting off watching it and doing other things and making some stuff and whatever, you know? And let's face it, I was a little bit bleh about the whole thing from the get go, which left me unmotivated to watch it- just ask my mom! I told her that very same thing yesterday when I dutifully did my duty and called her for Mother's Day. I probably should have postponed the due date, but those of you who are far more diligent than I started sending links to your reviews, so I felt I should I should just dutifully do this other duty- the duty of watching it. Earlier today I decided the time was right and Burt Young or no Burt Young, I had to get going. I went over to Hulu to get my Amityville on, only to discover that the movie was GONE. Gone as in no longer on the site, as if it fell into the depths of Hell through that weird, hidden red room in the basement. This was discouraging.

Denise Richards is as shocked as I was.

Rest assured, however, that my quest for Amityville II did not end there! People, I actually put on shoes and walked to the video store to pick up a copy, only to find giant signs plastered everywhere stating that Video Hut is going out of business, and that everything simply must go. I spent a good deal of time browsing, as movies were going for $5. However, this sale has been going on for a week or so and the place was pretty picked over- I'd go so far as to say that the remaining pickins, in fact, were quite disappointing. Either I'd seen the movies but felt no desire to own a copy forever and ever (stuff like I Know What You Did Last Summer) or my curiosity about a film simply didn't warrant spending a whopping five bucks (stuff like The Return starring Sarah Michelle Gellar; did anybody actually see that?). I almost bought Guns and Lipstick starring Sally Kirkland and Robert Forster, but in the end I left Video Hut empty handed. Of course, now that I'm thinking about it, I kinda want to go back for that movie. Or if I have a sudden, burning desire to pick up anything from the Erika Eleniak catalogue, as it seems it was available in its entirety.

As I walked home, I felt like a big ol' douche that I wouldn't be able to post a review for my own fucking Film Club. But then The Carrie Nations came on my walkman...excuse me, my iPod...and I felt better. So much better, in fact, that I spent the rest of my stroll home wondering why I haven't yet picked Beyond the Valley of the Dolls for the Film Club regardless of the fact that it's not horror. Then I wondered how I could get Erica Gavin to be in one of my movies, and then I was home. Then I did some other stuff, and now I'm here telling you all about my fascinating attempts to watch Amityville II: The Possession. That's...totally better than a review, right? Briefcase Woman thinks so, hooray!


Film Club Coolies, y'all!

The Film Club Coolies are EXTRA cool this time ('cause, you know, they actually watched the damn movie and wrote about it), and I implore you to visit their sites. They're not lame-os like yours truly, even though REALLY it's all Hulu's fault**.

The Verdant Dude
Zombie Cupcake
Vegan Voorhees
Creature Cast
Banned in Queensland
Michael Petrik
The Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense
The Horror Section
Bloody Good Horror
Down Inside You're Dirty
RJ Battles
From the Depths of DVD Hell
Emma Blackwood
Stephanie Vaughn
















*Big ups to my pal Brent Schoonover for sending me this picture. I've been waiting for any old excuse to post it.

**Still, I'm gonna watch this movie one day, I swear. No, honest, I SWEAR. I really want to see Amityville Dollhouse and Amityville Part Whatever: It's About Time, so I'll just have to make an Event Week out of it. I mean, I friggin' loved Amityville 4: The Evil Escapes!

Part five of my riveting "So I Made A Movie" series is on the way- a big thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting and all that. Sharing is the latest craze! In the meantime, however, here are some kibbles and bits so you don't get bored waiting around.

From the Siiiiiiiigh Department: Via Variety and the rest of the internet comes news that Katie Holmes has been cast in the remake of the 1973 made-for-TV flick Don't Be Afraid of the Dark. It's co-written by Guillermo Del Toro, so my hopes are still a bit high, but...Katie Holmes? That's a sigh of resignation up there, not of dreaminess. If they really wanted a Dawson's Creek alum, why not Michelle Williams? She's fairly interesting. Or even the lady who played Gram. Or what about Leann Hunley? She was on a couple of episodes, but she's perhaps more famous for her portrayal of Anna DiMera on Days of Our Lives...or maybe her brief appearance on the dead WAY before its time Models Inc, wherein she was married to William "Greatest American Hero" Katt, who was having an affair with Carrie-Anne "The Matrix" Moss. Of course, she was only having an affair with him to get closer to the son she'd given up many moons before who'd been adopted by Leann Hunley and William Katt; as you can imagine, things didn't turn out well as eventually William Katt found out about the whole ruse and broke things off despite the fact that Carrie-Anne Moss had actually fallen in love with him. Losing William Katt and her son really drove Carrie-Anne Moss over the edge and she started, like, impersonating Linda Gray and stuff, and things spiral out of control until she's institutionalized. Her shrink was a total wackadoo, though, and he kept her drugged up all the time as he enjoyed raping and molesting her, and let's face it, those sorts of things are easier when there's lots of diazepam involved. Finally Linda Gray helped her catch the doctor's dirty deeds on tape and Carrie-Anne Moss was free. Then, somehow, she ended up kidnapped and was forced to work in a Mexican brothel- she was still there when the series was abruptly cancelled. Every character on the show had a 30-second wrap-up in the last episode except Carrie-Anne Moss, who one can only assume must still be rotting and humping her days away in that brothel.

Anyway.

From the I Told You I Want To See This Department: Remember a while back when I mentioned Walking Distance and how I was totally looking forward to it? Well, I still am. I love how they're keeping info largely under wraps- it's a refreshing change from the constant barrage of images and info the internet barfs up regarding most films. There is a bit more of a Walking Distance tease at Icons of Fright, however: they've posted up a short behind the scenes video. Yarrr, Adrienne King! Reggie Bannister! And Shannon Lark, who I may have mentioned around here recently.

From the Don't Effing Forget Department: Don't effing forget, Monday is Film Club day! Get your Amityville II on!

From the Well How the Fuck Old Does That Make ME Then? Department: Today Breckin Meyer turns 35, Traci Lords turns 41, and Amy Heckerling turns 55.

From the Me Me Look At Me Department: If you scroll alllllllllll the way to the bottom of the page, you'll see that I finally added the "followers" gadget. I don't really know what it does, but it's there anyway. Does it make it easier to get updates or something?

From the You're Soaking In It! Department:

Have you ever changed your mind about a movie upon repeat viewings? Sometimes something you once loved loses its luster- for example, Caveman (starring Ringo Starr as...a...caveman) simply isn't as great as it was when I was nine. Actually, that's putting it mildly- that movie is such a black hole that admitting (if only to myself and the seven of you reading this) that as a child, I loved it, makes me question all of my opinions regarding everything. I could be wrong about so many things! Like, maybe The Texas Chain Saw Massacre actually blows. Or maybe my hat was never in fashion. Or maybe I don't know why the caged bird sings. Perhaps my world view is backwards!

The upside to this is that sometimes a movie is better than your first viewing belied. The first time I saw Session 9, I thought it was alright. The second time I gave it a shot, though, I asked it to marry me...so I'm certainly glad I gave it another go.

This is all a big, long, boring way for me to introduce the next Film Club choice: Amityville II: The Possession (1982). Once upon a time, I tried to watch it but I just couldn't get into it. I fully admit that this may be due to the fact that it stars Burt Young and I have a high aversion to Mr Young, who may be a perfectly fine gentleman in real life but I can't quite stand his stinky, greasy, sweaty, dirty onscreen persona. Plenty of horror fans have gone to bat for Amityville II, both here and elsewhere around The Information Superhighway, that I'm thinking the film may warrant another look. While I'm willing to deal with some Burt Young, however, I'm not going to do it alone...thus, let's welcome Amityville II into our collective Film Club Bosoms, yes? Yes!



Here's the link for all you Netflix enthusiasts. Or- check this- you can totally watch it on Hulu for free*. In other words, no excuses, people!

So, let's join cyber-hands together and turn our faces to the sun in the hopes that Amityville II: The Possession is indeed an underrated gem. Let us hope that when all is said and done, we've watched some good horror and I've learned a valuable lesson: that you can't judge a book by its Burt Young, or you can't judge a Burt Young by its cover, or something. None of that really makes sense, but you know what I mean.

The movie: Amityville II: The Possession
The due date: Monday, May 11

*I learned that Hulu has free horror movies from Sam Hawken, an FG reader who started his own Film Club revolving around said free offerings. Free-n-legal is awesome!

When you break it all down to the nitty and the gritty, The Beyond (1981- sweet) isn't difficult to comprehend. At a Louisiana hotel in 1927, a painter named Schweick (Antoine Saint-John) is nailed to a wall and doused with quick lime by a torch-wielding mob who claims the man is, in fact, a warlock.

Fifty-odd years later, Liza (Catriona MacColl) inherits the hotel from a distant relative. As it's being refurbished to become business-ready, bad juju long thought dead is stirred up once more. Joe the Plumber (Giovanni De Nava) breaks a wall to find the source of a leaky pipe, only to find the desiccated remains of Schweick. This being a Lucio Fulci film, explicit ocular trauma ensues.

Soon thereafter, Liza meets Emily (Cinzea Monreale (as Sarah Keller)), a hot blind chick just a-hangin' out in the middle of the road with her faithful companion dog Dickie.

Emily tells Liza that she's been "looking for her", and goes on to warn her not to reopen the hotel. It's built over one of the seven gates to Hell, and should the gate open, well...that would, like, be bad and stuff.


Liza's from New York, though, so she feels adequately prepared to deal with whatever Hell might spew forth. She marches boldly into Schweick's room and lo and behold, bad stuff happens. Like, the dead can walk and they're awfully slow and depressed-looking, but they still want to KILL KILL KILL kind of stuff.


With the help of hr new pal Dr. John "I'm a doctor so I don't believe any of this crap" McCabe (David Warbeck), Liza must figure out a way to re-seal the gate before H-E-double hockey sticks comes completely to Earth.

See? Easy, breezy, beautiful...or at least, you'd think. As I said, however, this is a Fulci film and as such, the simplest of plots becomes twisted in and around a nightmare of great visuals, over-the-top gore, and horrendous dialogue that is frequently nonsensical. As a viewer, you'll either worry about things in the film that really make no sense whatsoever (did that acid spill itself, and how did it end up pouring all over the woman as she lay on the ground, since she was standing across the room from it...?) or you'll sit back and enjoy the ride (me like cool acid burning face shot and bloody foam! or foamy blood! or whatever!).


There's more than enough fun- though I sort of hesitate to use that word- to be had here if you're willing to experience The Beyond rather than think about it. The effects range from pretty damn good to pretty damn bad as we see tarantulas eating faces, a girl getting her head blown off, and more ooey gooey dripping goo than can be found at your local...your local... umm... goo factory.

There's some genuine terror to be found here as well; I'm thinking specifically of the scene where Joe the Plumber's eyeless corpse rises from the fetid water of a bathtub...had I seen that as a young'un, my brain would have broken right in half. The film's ending is beautiful and haunting, as Liza and John find themselves in the vast wasteland of the afterlife, doomed to an existence as sentinels o' Hell.


Plenty of folks think The Beyond is an overrated mess; plenty of others think it's Fulci's finest effort. I'd say it's somewhere in between- it's an atmospheric, zombie-riffic, painful-looking-contact-lens-riddled good time. Sometimes it's okay to just be entertained, you know? And boy, was I entertained. I've also got a hankering for more Italian zombie flicks...

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Film Club Coolies, y'all!
-----------------------------

Hagi's Movie-a-Day
New Otherton
Banned in Queensland
Creature Cast
Zombie Cupcake
From the Depths of DVD Hell
Matt Hersh
Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies
Aphorisms and Ectoplasm
The Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense
Awesomeness For Awesome's Sake
Gorillanaut
The Horror Section
The Inevitable Zombie Apocalypse
Sam Hawken
Acidemic Film

Yes, you read that headline right! I've got all sorts of goodies for you today. So why don't I just shut up and get to 'em already?

First up: I've got 4 day passes to Fangoria's Chicago stop on their Weekend of Horror tour! 4 passes to give away! In a giveaway contest! The show is coming up fast (March 6-9) so enter now by dropping me a line:

Send an email to stacieponder at gmail dot com with "FANGO" in the subject line by...mmm, 2pm (PST) on Monday, March 2. I'll draw winner names that day- they'll be drawn randomly, so butt-kissing won't get you anywhere.

Of course, that doesn't mean that butt-kissing isn't welcome.

The guest list is SA-WEET- Lamberto Bava! Ruggero Deodato! Marilyn Burns! Alan Rowe Kelly! Don't be a jerk...enter NOW!

Nextly, this recent discussion of Ye Olde Timey Slasher Movies can mean only one thing: it's Film Club pickin' time! And I'm pickin'...

Fulci, baby, and his 1981 goresterpiece (I don't know what that means) The Beyond. Boing!

The film has been recently released in a super-fancy-pants edition but it's not on Netflix's current rotation, so you "everything has to come to me or I won't do it" types may have to rethink your strategy. Or not. I guess it depends how cool you want to be. Or not be. Whatevs.

Prepare to have your mind warped!

The film: The Beyond
The due date: Monday, March 30

I couldn't "run" a "blog" that's "supposedly" about "slasher movies" for almost four "years" and not have reviewed Friday the 13th (1980) and My Bloody Valentine (1981) before today. Well, I could, of course, but that would be silly. The point is, you can click those links to read my original reviews; I love these movies, always have, probably always will. In the wake of the new remakes of each film, uncut special editions of the originals have hit the market- if you're a veteran like moi, are they worth your time and dollars? In the interests of answering that very question, I watched 'em back-to-back: a good old-fashioned early '80s slasher double feature. In further efforts to recreate the early '80s, I put a friendship ribbon in my hair, squeezed into a training bra, and chugged about half a gallon of Sunny D. No, it wasn't pretty at all, but thank you for asking.

In related news, holy crap, almost four years I've been doing this.


I'm still struck by how well this film fits the slasher paradigm while it also sets itself apart from its contemporaries. Director George Mihalka really captured the feel of a small mining town (perhaps because...umm...it was filmed in one)- far better than the remake did. The mine is still unbelievably creepy, the miner is still one of the great killers in all of slasherdom, and nearly thirty years on (!!!) the film still works.

Is it worth a double dip? Absolutely effing YES. Prior to My Bloody Valentine's release, the MPAA notoriously excised virtually all the gore; now we can all see what we were missing all those years ago and...wow. MBV doesn't fuck around! Every single kill has been amped up here and there are body parts and eyeballs galore. It's a completely sick thrill to see poor Mabel (excuse me...Madame Mabel) flop around in that dryer like never before.






In addition to the lost footage, there are documentaries, interviews, and everything else you could hope for on a Special Edition release. This DVD is probably the greatest thing to come from the release of a remake- if it weren't for MBV 3D, who knows when or if this would have seen the light of day? Hooray remakes!

Whoa, sorry, I take that back. Don't wanna get carried away, there.


Upon watching Friday the 13th, I was struck with some primo "Get off my lawn but bring me an icepack first because my bursitis is acting up!" I just couldn't help but think, "Golly, remember when the characters in horror movies were likable? And they weren't all douchebags? And even though they weren't necessarily deep or particularly well-drawn, they were still interesting? And they would even do things like read?"


Then I got really sad that Laurie Bartram is no longer with us and that she didn't make more movies while she was.

You know what? This movie still holds up, dammit. It's written off as a pile of crap all the time, even by horror enthusiasts, something I'll never understand. There's a bit of mystery, there are plenty of frights, and the explicit violence is still shocking and is still some of Tom Savini's best work. And Crazy Ralph is just so cool in this I can't even take it. So there.


Is it worth a double dip? Absolutely effing NO. If you're a Friday/slasher wackadoo like myself, that word "uncut" which adorns the DVD case may prove irresistible, and if you've never owned Friday the 13th, I'd probably still recommend you drop $10-20 more and get the box set containing films 1-8. The "extra footage", however, amounts to mere seconds- a few kills are a wee bit longer, and in one case (the famous Jack gets a spear through the neck scene), the additional angle actually gives away a bit of the fakery. Move along, kids, there's not much to see here.

There are a couple of documentaries- who wants to be the one to tell Robbi Morgan that Annie isn't the first one killed in Friday the 13th?- that are alright but not particularly groudbreaking. The sick thrill here is watching Betsy Palmer call the script a "piece of shit" as she sits next to writer Victor Miller. The short film Lost Tales from Camp Blood is, to be honest, a complete waste of time. A couple of morons in a plywood house get killed by...is it supposed to be Jason? I don't know. You can't really see him and in the credits he's just called "killer". If you want some no-budget horror, look elsewhere; Lost Tales is 8 minutes of your life you won't get back.


The early 80s have still got it, baby...Sunny D, on the other hand, is pretty damn nasty.

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Film Club Coolies, y'all!
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Evil on Two Legs
From the Depths of DVD Hell
Hudson Lee: Friday the 13th / My Bloody Valentine
Gorillanaut
Goremania: My Bloody Valentine
Invasion of the B Movies: Friday the 13th
Sam Hawken
Movie Moxie: My Bloody Valentine

Don't forget, kids! Monday is Film Club Day. On the slab will be the uncut versions of Friday the 13th and/or My Bloody Valentine, so get ta watchin' and writin'!

When I started Final Girl once upon a Ye Olde Time, my niche was covering slasher movies. I slowly began writing about other subgenres because let's face it, there's only so much you can write about slasher films on a regular basis...and besides, I love horror in all shapes and sizes and flavors. I don't discriminate!

For the next Film Club MEGAEVENT, however, I'm takin' it back to my slasher roots. A positively DREAMY early-80s double bill, folks:

Friday the 13th, UNCUT.

My Bloody Valentine, UNCUT.

I've written about both films before, but these forthcoming special editions feature footage never before seen by my very eyes, so they're definitely worth revisiting. Friday the 13th is rumored to have a...err...whopping 34 seconds of lost footage added, but My Bloody Valentine promises to be a real treat with upwards of a (for reals) whopping nine minutes of additional footage- largely, all the gore and effects (in)famously excised by the MPAA. Fans (me) have been wanting to see this footage forever, and now all of our (my) dreams have come true. Alright, so not ALL of my dreams. My cat is still unable to scoot around the house like a fat furry hovercraft. I have faith, however, that someday technology will catch up to my deepest desires!

MBV hits this week! THIS WEEK! This very week in which we are living! F13 should be out on February 3rd. I have no idea what the Netflix deal may or may not be- you may, in fact, have to leave your house to seek out a copy when the time comes. Write about one movie, write about both- just make sure you're writing about the new editions. Whatever you choose, this is a primo opportunity to check out some of the finest slasher flicks from the genre's heyday. As President and Supreme Ruler of Final Girl, I simply can't pass them up!

The films: My Bloody Valentine (uncut) and Friday the 13th (uncut)
The due date: Monday, February 23

Grindhouse, the brainchild of writers/directors Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino, didn't exactly perform up to expectations at the box office. In fact, it was a bit of a flop- sort of like that scene in Pee Wee's Big Adventure where Pee Wee goes over to Francis's house in search of his bike and Francis is "having his bath" in, essentially, a pool. The two man-children tussle, and at one point Francis does a big belly flop and slides along the floor; it's not only disturbing (he squeaks), but it looks painful. Yeah, Grindhouse was kinda like that. Or not. Look, all I know is that I saw my tape (yeah, tape) of Pee Wee's Big Adventure on the shelf when I fetched Planet Terror last night, so I've got Pee Wee on the brain. I really love that movie, but I usually forget about it until I start thinking about it (I know, that's, like, the way the brain works)- then I think "Aw, man, I love the Alamo scene...oooh, Morgan Fairchild...Mr Buxton's jumpsuit!" and the fever builds until I have to watch it. So, excuse me for using a clunky Pee Wee simile, but, you know, they can't all be gold.


First up on the Grindhouse double bill is Robert Rodriguez's Planet Terror, an ooey-gooey zombie flick that's 105 minutes of pure, unadulterated fun.

As can be expected, the Army's tinkering with biological and chemical weapons results in green gas filling the skies over the Texas countryside, which in turn transforms the populace into hideously deformed, pus-oozing, flesh-eating monsters. A band of plucky survivors, featuring world-renowned badass Wray (Freddy Rodriguez), one-legged go-go dancer Cherry Darling (Rose McGowan), BBQ maverick J.T. (Jeff Fahey), and lesbo-style doctor adulteress Dakota (Marley Shelton), fights its way through the body parts and goop as they try to last the night.

As I said, there's no denying the fun of this movie. The colors are luscious, the action is over-the-top, and the gore flies freely- it's as if rather than trying to recreate a true Grindhouse -style movie (which would have about 1/1000 of Planet Terror's budget), Rodriguez created a pastiche of everything he loves about those films. With its perfect synth score and liberal use of lights and smoke, this flick is akin to an American reinterpretation of an Italian interpretation of a John Carpenter movie. It's truly an outrageous sight to behold, and if you're not wearing a big, goofy grin when Cherry Darling flies through the air in front of an explosion and launches rockets out of her rocket launcher leg, then I have to wonder what kind of movie would give you a big goofy grin.


My biggest complaint with Planet Terror is Rose McGowan, who...well, I'm not sure exactly if her performance is so stilted purposefully (this is, after all a Z-grade movie on a big budget), or if the countless Restylane injections have not only frozen up her face but also her acting abilities. With that machine gun leg, Cherry Darling has the potential to become a real action/horror movie icon; with McGowan's flat performance, however, she's just a girl with a machine gun leg. Which, I'll admit, is still pretty fucking awesome. I just wish she'd been a little less self-conscious and a bit more fun, like the rest of the cast.

If I never see "The Crazy Babysitter Twins" or Quentin Tarantino in a movie again, though, it won't be too soon. Or it will be too soon, or however the saying goes when I mean that they were all fairly irritating.

Scenes to watch out for: "You'll blow your own head off!" and The Death of Fergie, which oddly enough got me thinking about Lamberto Bava's Demons...definite 80s Italian vibe.




On to the much-maligned Tarantino-helmed half of the proceedings, Death Proof. A bunch of obnoxious girls spouting obvious Tarantino dialogue* head off for a weekend at a lake house, stopping several times along the way to drink margaritas, pound shots of Wild Turkey, talk about sexy times, and smoke up. Enter the nacho-loving Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell), a man who likes to use his "death proof" stunt car to terrorize and/or kill obnoxious girls.

A big complaint about this film is that all that dialogue and yammering gets in the way of the action, and sure, it does. Tarantino isn't simply paying homage to the Grindhouse movie here, he's making one. Check out Unhinged, or hell, even Halloween: horror movies of yore were largely dialogue and yammering. Girls talk...and talk...and talk, and then 40 or 50 minutes in, something happens. Keeping this in mind, I was totally on board with the first half of Death Proof. Tarantino lays out all the hallmarks of the slasher film (weekend getaway, etc), epitomized in the scenes where Arlene (Vanessa Ferlito) keeps noticing this creepy black car that seems to keep noticing her. That shit is straight outta Halloween y'all.


In related news, Vanessa Ferlito is pretty fucking terrific in this movie.

When everyone decides it's finally time to head out to the lake house for reals, things get cooking. Pam (McGowan again, just as horribly one-not as she was in Planet Terror) makes the mistake of getting into Stuntman Mike's car and suddenly he transforms from sorta-weird has-been to totally-weird homicidal has-been and it all goes to hell.

Exhilarating hell. Once Stuntman Mike gets his death proof on, the car crash is phenomenal and, as pointing out in the script for the film, decidedly not CGI. At this point, Death Proof absolutely lives up to its tagline: "A white-hot juggernaut at 200 miles per hour!"

Sadly, though, all that promise comes to a grinding halt in the second half of the film when the action shifts from Texas to Tennessee. As all of our protagonists died in Mike's assault, we're introduced to a new group of girls, even more obnoxious than the first. As they're all involved in the film industry, they sit around once again spouting obvious Tarantino dialogue about their lives and their jobs and sexy times and how rad Zoe Bell is.


In the parking lot of a convenience store, they catch Stuntman Mike's eye. The girls take a Dodge Challenger for a test spin, which not only allows for Zoe Bell to act like Zoe Bell, but also for Tarantino to list off some muscle-car films we should all seek out immediately. Stuntman Mike catches up to them and engages the girls in some vehicular terrorizin', then the girls turn the tables. Mike wimps out, the girls beat the shit out of him, the end. Literally.

The car chase is fantastic and again, CGI-less. It's filmmaking of a type you don't really see on screen anymore- there are no frenetic edits. Tarantino goes for lengthy shots that up the tension, and again, it's exhilarating. It's too bad, however, that this fantastic sequence is mired in so much bullshit.

It's obvious that Quentin became enamoured with Zoe Bell on the set of Kill Bill, so he decided to build a movie around her and her abilities. That's fine, I suppose, she's great and all, but someone already built a movie around her: the 2004 documentary Double Dare. When Death Proof should have been riding the momentum gained from that magnificent wreck that concluded the first half, it became mired in too-long stories about Zoe Bell's exploits, and that's a real missed opportunity.

Death Proof would have worked better, I think, as a type of rape-revenge film. It is, of a sort, but there's no "rape"- for the ass-kicking/potential murder of Stuntman Mike to pack the wallop it needed to, the stakes needed to be much higher than a game of chicken where no one got hurt. If Tarantino had spent less time at the shrine of Our Lady Zoe of the Bell and more time, say, offing one of the second half's protagonists, the end would have been far more cathartic than it turned out to be. Why not have Mike, I don't know, run over Lee (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) or something? She was completely inessential to the story anyway, and it would have provided a believable impetus for revenge.

All of that said, damn, Tarantino really knows how to shoot a movie. The first half, wherein he kept up the Grindhouse conceits (scratched "film stock", etc), was spot fucking on. I'm not sure why he chose to present the second half in pristine DV, but it was a disappointment regardless.

All of that said, the Grindhouse conceits in both Death Proof and Planet Terror are a bit maddening, for all their "authenticity". They're made to look like films from the '70s, but both also feature modern conveniences like cell phones. It simply doesn't jive or make sense: if these are meant to be "lost films" of a bygone era (I wish this was the intent, but I doubt it), then get rid of the cell phones. If they're modern films in the style of the bygone era (more like it), then why is the "stock" so beat up? It's akin to a CD player made to look like a record player: essentially pointless. Get a GD record player and spin vinyl, or play your CDs on an appropriate device.

Still, I admire the obvious love and nostalgia going on here, and if nothing else, the work of Rodriguez and Tarantino has brought about a revival of Grindhouse flicks- for better or for worse. Anything that brings Pieces to the masses, after all, is fine by me. Unfortunately, I think the ultimate failure (relatively speaking, natch) of the project indicates that the days where audiences would gladly sit on questionably-stained seats for two features and trailers galore are pretty much over. The geeks will still sit for hours on end, sure, but attention spans and "movie culture" have changed, no matter how much some of us may wish otherwise.

Really, though, where were the tits?



*Let it be noted that I don't necessarily mind Tarantino dialogue, unless it simply becomes a list of what QT likes. I mind that all of his characters, male or female, sound alike. The onus is on the actors to make them individuals, and only some of them succeed.

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Film Club Coolies, y'all!
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The Dark Side Critic
The Agitation of the Mind
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Fade In
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Margarita Salt
It's Dark in the Dark
Movie Chunks
Exiled from Contentment
Movie Moxie
Acheter et entretenir sa tronconneuse: Planet Terror / Death Proof

58% of you decided that the next Film Club choice will be Grindhouse, and so Grindhouse it is.

Check it, youse guys: you can instantly watch the whole shebang on Netflix by clicking HERE. You can watch or rent Planet Terror by clicking HERE; for Death Proof, click HERE.

As for me, I'm going to make it a true grindhouse experience by doing the following:

1) dumping soda and garbage on my floor
2) creating mysterious stains on my couch
3) inviting several shady people over to sit in my living room while I watch
4) starting the movies at midnight
5) watching both movies in a row

So there.

Hey, I've never seen Planet Terror- I can only assume that her gun shoots flame-colored lightning and words.

To the 42% of you who voted for Pete Walker's Schizo, don't worry. It'll have its day in the Film Club, I promise!

The film(s): Grindhouse
The due date: Monday, January 6

Thanks to everyone who voted!

As we continue on our slow, inexorable march toward death, there are a few things we can be sure of. Pizza will remain delicious, Paul Reiser will remain irritating, Demon of Paradise will always be a terrible movie, and on Wednesdays I'll have a new column up over at AMC. This week, I posit thusly: What Ever Happened to Hag Horror?. Now, more than ever, it's a question of extreme pertinence.

In a show of solidarity with my column, last night I watched What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? and I was wildly entertained. I must say, however, it's extremely difficult to watch someone beat the crap out of Ruth Gordon (my beloved Maude!) with a telephone, even if that someone happens to be Geraldine Page.

Onto other pressing matters! It's time to choose a Film Club Choosie! This time, it's up to you...sorta. I'm putting a poll up over yonder in the right hand column, and come Monday we'll have a winner. The nominees are...

A face from the past shatters a young figure skater's marital bliss in director Pete Walker's grisly shocker. Samantha Gray (Lynne Frederick) is ecstatic about her upcoming wedding … until an unwelcome guest shows up to begin a crusade of terror: her mother's ex-lover (Jack Watson), who killed Samantha's mom 15 years ago as she watched. With Samantha's friends getting picked off one by one, can she stop the madman before becoming the next victim?

Pete Walker! 1976! It was in the running the last time I had a Film Club poll and it didn't win, so it's in the running again. Schizo is totally like Joslyn, who was on America's Next Top Model this cycle after auditioning more than 30 times. I'm not sure if that's admirable or wackadoo, but it's worth mentioning.


Yes, folks, I mean a Final Girl Film Club twofer: both Robert Rodriguez's Planet Terror:

El Wray (Freddy Rodriguez) and his ex-girlfriend Cherry Darling (Rose McGowan) fight an army of zombies infected with a biochemical weapon unleashed by a psychotic Army lieutenant (Bruce Willis) and an opportunistic scientist (Naveen Andrews).

and Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof:

Popular cult filmmaker Quentin Tarantino wrote and directed this high-octane thriller that stars Kurt Russell as a serial murderer who uses his revved-up car as a killing machine. After transforming his Dodge Charger into an indestructible weapon, Stuntman Mike climbs behind the wheel to terrorize a group of women on the road. Rose McGowan, Rosario Dawson, Jordan Ladd and Vanessa Ferlito also star in the ultimate road rage film.

Yes, I realize that everyone except me has seen Grindhouse. Mayhaps this will influence your voting, or mayhaps not.

So what will we watch? The choice is in your hands!

The film: ??
The due date: Monday, January 6

Go get your vote on! If not for me or for yourselves, then do it for Briefcase Woman.