Entries Tagged 'SHOCKtober 2022' ↓

SHOCKtober Day 16


If you thought I'd gotten all the cool characters out of the way when I posted earlier this month about R. J. MacReady and The Iron Lady well you thought wrong, friendo! Because you know who has more 100% pure cool pumping through her veins than a thousand R.J. MacReadies combined? Today's favorite character, that's who...

ROSALIE NORDON IN THE CHILD (1977)


Yeah, that's a picture of her chilling in a cemetery in the rain, which may be de rigueur uncool emo shit in today's Hot Topic world, but Rosalie was dong that shit in the...40s? 30s? 70s? Look, I've seen The Child a bunch of times but no, I am still not sure exactly when it's set. And I don't care! It's timeless as far as I'm concerned, and Rosalie is a goth pioneer. She is Laura Ingalls Whydon'tyouleavemealone, okay. Before we get into some more details though, catch a glimpse of her in action in the trailer for the movie:


(Did you spot the official SHOCKtober pumpkin mascot in there? The more you know!)

The Child is one of my very favorite zero-budget flicks. Yeah, that zero-budget is reflected in the sound quality...and the acting...and the picture quality...and and and. But it's also weird, creepy, and cool as fuck, and a lot of that owes to Rosalie.

When she's not hanging out in the cemetery, she is laughing at her father's attempts to rein her in...because this bitch's "friends" are a bunch of zombies who do her bidding! She draws pictures of her enemies (cool. creative) and the zombies go kill them. If I was Rosalie (I WISH) I, too, wouldn't have to tell anyone anything and no one could tell me shit! So it's nice to see that she knows and claims her power. She is a #bossbabe on a level that inspirational wall art from Home Goods and Etsy mugs can't even conceive.

Tommy Jarvis had his masks, Mark Petrie had his models...and Rosalie has her rubber spiders and King Kongaphrenalia. She's the only female cinematic Monster Kid that comes to mind, and if I'd seen this movie when I was a child, I probably would have tried to develop some graveyard telepathy to become like THE child. Rosalie is an inspiration in so many ways! 

Except in regards to fashion. Her fashion sense is terrible. But hey, my fashion sense is also terrible but 1) I'm not 12 and 2) I can't control zombies with my mind, so who am I to judge?

SHOCKtober Day 15


I like my vampires like I like my zombies: crusty-faced and scary-looking! I'm not going to tell you to keep your plunging necklines, your chokers, and/or your puffy sleeves away from me completely because I do enjoy a Hammer aesthetic and gothic vibe. But I am immune to the "ro" "mance" of vampire cin-e-ma, so if I have my druthers it's monstrous-looking monster bloodsuckers all the way. In what world--IN WHAT WORLD, I ask you--would I prefer a handome human-esque Mr. Barlow over the OG? In none. I want my Mr. Barlow to be bald, blue, and ten feet tall with creepy long fingers, gross rat teeth, and yellow eyes! 

Man oh man I love Salem's Lot so much.

And you know what? I'm just gonna do it: yeah, Mr. Barlow is today's favorite character. But specifically...

DESICCATED MR. BARLOW IN SALEM'S LOT (1979)


Why desiccated Mr. Barlow? Because that's what I look and feel like after watching Halloween Ends! It was so terrible. I mean, I expected that it would be...but I didn't expect it to be that particular kind of terrible. Imagine getting handed the keys to one of horror's greatest properties, securing iconic actors to reprise their iconic roles, getting John Carpenter to provide music once again...and doing THAT with it. Whatever THAT was. Just thinking about it turned my brain into a California raisin and dried me out so bad that I...uh oh...*turns to dust*

SHOCKtober Day 14

It's a dark, windy, rainy day around these parts and it's really got me feeling the spooky scaries of the season! And let me tell you, it's the perfect time to be all pumped about those spooky scaries because tonight is the night I'm fixin' to see Halloween Bangs Part Two. As I mentioned on SHOCKtober Day 9, I am positively broken out in a rash of anticipatory hives (gross) over it. However, I thought I was excited about participating in a good old fashioned hate watch...but in the time since that post (has it really only been five days?), it seems that I am genuinely, unironically looking forward to seeing it. 

Don't get me wrong, I haven't tricked my brain (nor has my brain tricked me) into thinking I'm going to like it or "maybe it will be good." This feeling is something else entirely, and I can't explain it. Maybe it's Jamie Lee Curtis and Kyle Richards reuniting again a couple of days ago on Part 1 of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Season 12 Reunion. Maybe it's the leaves blowing around outside. Maybe it's that even though the movies are awful, the yearly release schedule has somehow reignited the excitement I would get as a child when it was time to watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown or something. I don't know!

But I do know that today would have been a better day to talk about that lady with the iron in Halloween Bangs. That's okay though, we're still sticking with a Haddonfield denizen...

THAT KID WITH THE RAZOR BLADE IN HIS MOUTH IN HALLOWEEN II (1981)

Halloween II is such a weird movie. (I love it! And if you subscribe to the Patreon for The Evolution of Horror, you can listen to me talk about it (and its predecessor)! The empty halls, Jamie Lee Curtis's wig...it all comes off as really low budget and ultimately feels much nastier than the first film. 

That nastiness is exemplified by that kid who accidentally chomped on a razor blade--we get a bloody close-up that's much gorier than anything we saw in 1978, but more over it means that Michael Myers isn't the only Haddonfield wackadoo on the loose that Halloween. Some Brenda Bates-type out there made one of the most enduring urban legends come to life and gave any number of kids a lifetime's worth of trauma. That's a special kind of fucked up-ness we don't often see in horror movies, and one that wasn't matched until...why, until Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982) wherein magic Druid power made bugs come out of kids' faces. And yet it's boring old Michael "stab stab" Myers who's still the focus of this franchise? Please. He doesn't even have bangs.

Which reminds me! If you'll excuse me I have to get ready to watch the conclusion of the Lindsey Wallace saga.

SHOCKtober Day 13

As big-brained humans, we struggle with the so-called "meaning of life" and all of the big questions raised in our pursuit of said meaning. Why are we here? What is our purpose? What are we to do during our finite years? Is there a point to any of it?

Some folks find solace in their faith, secure in the knowledge that our lives are a part of some God's plan: a plan which includes watching reruns of Touched by an Angel here on Earth and then being granted a heavenly reward when our souls slough off their skin suits and make for the big...uh, place where you watch reruns of Touched by an Angel in the sky.

Others remain unsure about the why of it all but perhaps taking comfort in the simplicity of cogito ergo sum, reassured by Descartes that we do, in fact, exist. That may be an end in and of itself, and reruns of Touched by an Angel are just a bonus.

Regardless of whether one snuggles up to a bosomful of heavenly or earthly delights for comfort, however, humanity's deliberate and subconscious goal is ultimately to impose order on the chaos of life. We are here, life is queer...but if there's some sort of order we can kind of get used to it.

Lest you begin to feel too comfortable tackling those questions that plague mankind, though, Cathy's Curse is here to remind you that you know absolutely nothing and you never truly will. Like a member of The Flat Earth Society or a cinematic hardened rogue vigilante cop, Cathy's Curse feels stifled by "the law," be it the law of man or the law of nature. Cathy's Curse operates outside the system, beholden only to the rules of its own world, a world in which the logic of our world simply doesn't apply. Nothing has meaning. Meaning itself has no meaning. It laughs at your struggle as you try to figure it out, as you try to impose order on its chaos--for within this film there is only chaos.

Of course, Cathy's Curse isn't really film, it's more...something you experience. It's something that happens to you. It lingers, clouding your brain, clogging it with thoughts that may not be your own. Time will no longer have meaning. Meaning will no longer have meaning. Your new life will be consumed by Cathy's Curse, as mine was long ago, and your only choices are to adapt or to die. It's the Cathy's Curse curse!

If the characters in Cathy's Curse were actual humans, none of them would pass the Turing Test, for they do not react to situations or behave in the ways that actual humans do. This makes my job as "character chooser" particularly difficult, and I am tempted to call the film (the "film") in its entirety today's favorite character. But this feels like cheating, and so the honor goes to...

AGATHA THE MEDIUM IN CATHY'S CURSE (1977)

I could simply point to her bitchin' cape as reason enough to crown her. Or I could remind you that mediums are always my favorite characters, especially in horror movies from the 70s. They always go through some shit while they're communing with or channeling the dead, and I love it! Agatha is no exception: when she relives the fiery car crash that claimed the life of a young child during a reading, it's, as you might expect, a terrible experience for her. But Agatha is the only medium who ends a torturous session by saying that "we must do it again sometime." That's hardcore!

When she returns to the house later, Cathy is in the full throes of possession and tossing out incredible evil/annoyed glares.


Using the power of her possessed mind, Cathy confronts Agatha with a vision of herself as a crusty old crone: every woman's worst nightmare, amirite?

Crusty Agatha says "Well, if it isn't the great medium. 'Medium'? I'd say an 'extra-rare piece of shit!'" before the two Agathas face off against each other...

...and it feels as impactful as Father Merrin facing off with the Pazuzu statue at the beginning of The Exorcist, doesn't it?

After Cathy calls Agatha a "filthy female cow"--how many sick burns must Agatha endure??--they scream together, which unfortunately Father Merrin and Pazuzu did not do...although who knows,  maybe William Friedkin will find more unused footage and foist The Exorcist: Yet Another Version You've Never Seen on us at some point.

Then Agatha runs outside, faceplants in the snow, and is never seen again.

Did she faint? Did she die? Was she ever truly alive? Are any of us? Yet again, Cathy's Curse laughs at our struggle as we try to figure it out. Like Agatha, this movie really is an extra-rare piece of shit...and a favorite.

SHOCKtober Day 12

I don't know about you, but I live life such that I am well aware of my limitations, and in general I try not to regularly exceed them. I feel confident that I will never have to, say, cut one of my own arms off because I got it wedged between some rocks while I was out by myself traipsing through canyons, for that kind of endeavor is beyond my limitations. Of course, this is not to say that I will never be in a situation where I have to cut my own arm off--just that it's more likely to happen because I end up trapped beneath a toppled wig display at Spirit Halloween or something. 

The point is, I know my limitations as a writer, and I know that I am incapable of conveying in mere words what today's character is all about. Honestly, it's quite possible that no writer in human history could ever do it...so it's best just to present today's favorite character in all its glory...

THIS SCENE FROM CHILDREN OF THE CORN II: THE FINAL SACRIFICE (1992)

YES I mean the whole scene is today's character. YES I filmed that right off of my TV (it seems I haven't completely abandoned the old ways just yet). YES "The Final Sacrifice" is an outright lie, since the Corns are now like 80 movies strong. Hard to believe this wasn't the last one, though, considering it is obviously cinematic perfection.

You see why I cannot find adequate words to talk about it? All I can really do is wheeze out a "Barbara Bush" here and a "how does the remote work exactly" there and a "mah CHAY-yuh" over there and a "YEAH...YEAH! *CRASH*" over there. I am quite literally useless, even (or especially?) on my own blog.

So...umm...I guess I'll probably watch that clip on repeat for another hour or so and then head over to Spirit Halloween for some wig-browsin'. If I'm not back tomorrow, please send help and/or a hacksaw!

SHOCKtober Day 11

 

For someone who grew up on horror--and particularly on slasher movies--I came to the Sleepaway Camp series quite a long time after they were born. In fact, the powers of my science-computer show that it was late 2002, when the Sleepaway Camp: Survival Kit box set released. A horror pal told me to just get it because I would love those movies and because I always do whatever people tell me to do so they will think I'm cool, I got it. And he was right, I sure loved 'em! Part II, in particular, got me but good

And you know what, it still gets me! In particular...

WOMAN IN TRUCK IN SLEEPAWAY CAMP II: UNHAPPY CAMPERS (1988)

After Angela has killed just about everyone at Camp Rolling Hills (spoiler), she catches a ride out of the area with this truck driving queen who seems to have rolled in straight from an episode of Hee-Haw, and I couldn't be happier. From the moment she answers Angela's "Thanks for picking me up" with "Hell...ain't no skin off my tits" to that where she's dispatched to the great honky tonk in the sky, actress Jill Jane Clements makes the most of every moment and delivers every ridiculous line with a twang and a gusto that only a true character actor can provide.

Woman in Truck is very Ethel from Friday the 13th Part V: A New Beginning-adjacent, so much so that they could be sisters. Who are these over-the-top women with their over-the-top and completely out of place accents? Listen, if there's anything I've learned from every Halloween movie after the original, the less we know about a movie maniac or a dirt-farming/truck-driving honky tonk angel, the better. They are simply here to make our days a little brighter (and Woman in Truck sure does, even with a mere minute of screen time) before they get stabbed or poked or whatever, and I couldn't be more thankful for them.



SHOCKtober Day 10

 

Over the years, we horror fans have sadly grown accustomed to incredible performances being overlooked come mainstream awards season. Yes yes it's all a load of who cares bunk and personally I haven't cared about (or watched) the Oscars for at least a decade, but as a lifelong movie lover (I refuse to say "cinephile") I admit, to my shame I still retain residual feelings of loving the whole thing and wanting what I like to get the recognition. Sure, horror performances have been nominated on occasion--heck, I always forget that Sigourney Weaver was nominated for Aliens, a horror sci-fi blockbuster of all things--but I'll go to my grave bearing grudges about all the great ones that were snubbed: Toni Collette in Hereditary. Isabelle Adjani in Possession. Lupita Nyong'o in Us. I'm not holding my breath for Mia Goth in Pearl

And then there is the most egregious snubbing of them all: Lynda Day George's performance as tennis pro turned cop who goes undercover as a tennis pro Mary Riggs in Pieces! She should have earned all five nominations in the Best Actress category. The winner that year--Katherine Hepburn--wishes (in Heaven) she could electrify audiences the way Lynda Day George did when she yelled "bastard" three times.

Now that that's out of the way, let me continue with my pattern of talking about one character forever and then revealing the character I actually wanted to talk about today, who is...

THAT GIRL ON THE SKATEBOARD IN PIECES (1982)


I've seen many a wild Great Value Slasher in my day, but surely Pieces is the wildest. It starts at 100 on the bonkers meter and ends with the bonkers meter huddled in the corner in a puddle of tears from all the strain. It's got so very much going for it, from "bastard!" to the crazy carnage to the dialogue that will have your finger permanently planted on the rewind button to the treasure chest full of character gems to the fact that none of it makes any sense. And if there's one person who somehow encapsulates all of that at once, it's That Girl on the Skateboard.

Like every other victim in this movie, she exists only to add to the film's body count. But while everyone else is sliced, diced, and slap-chopped right off this mortal coil, she gets Final Destinationed for some reason. Actually no, that's not quite accurate. Final Destination sets up elaborate Rube Goldberg machine sequences to kill people off, whereas this icon has the time of her life and then slowly--and I do mean slowly--skateboards into a giant mirror. She sees the mirror when it's still a good distance away! She could easily just step off the skateboard! Instead she screams and watches as death moves inexorably closer...and death wears her face! *shudder*

I'm sure that has some kind of deeper meaning about the human condition, right? This is Pieces, after all. 


SHOCKtober Day 9

I tells ya, I feel like Linus sitting in the pumpkin patch awaiting the arrival of the Great Pumpkin as I sit here in a dumpster awaiting the arrival of Halloween Ends. However, there's one major difference between me and Linus: he wanted the Great Pumpkin to show up! But these new Halloweens...man. They're like a recurrent rash for which there is no curative unguent. Nary a salve! They keep coming back and coming back and I know I shouldn't scratch because that will just make it worse but I can't help myself because they're so damn itchy.

I did not enjoy 2018's Halloween H40 at all. Not at all! And when it was over, I would have been happy to abandon the series forever--though to be honest, even if I didn't rush out for the remaining films, curiosity would have gotten the better of me at some point. But on Gaylords of Darkness I said right out loud that the only way I'd consider seeing Halloween Kills on release was if they dared to bring back Kyle Richards as Lindsey Wallace. And they did it! And Kyle Richards cut her goddamn bangs for the role! And so Halloween Kills became known as Halloween Bangs!

I was 1000% sure they were going to kill her off at some point, but instead they merely wheeled her off-screen (literally) and killed off just about everyone else. So they're bringing her back again for Halloween Bangs Part Two, aka Halloween Ends (It does? THANK GOD) and I am honor bound to see it on release. I bet I'm going to despise it. I bet for sure they're going to kill her off this time, if only because there's practically no one else left. It's a problem of my own making, obviously. Had I known the extent of my ability to will this whole scenario into being, would I have done it again? Yes. I mean, those bangs!

Sitting here (in the dumpster) typing all of that out makes me think hmm...I probably should have chosen Lindsey Wallace's bangs as today's favorite character. But I didn't! I chose...

THAT LADY WITH THE IRON IN HALLOWEEN KILLS (2021)

The scenes of the angry mob that takes to the streets of Haddonfield and the hallways of Haddonfield Memorial Hospital and incessantly chants "Evil dies tonight!" compose what is undoubtedly the most insipid method of torture ever devised by humankind. To merely say "I hated it" does not remotely do justice to the power of my loathing!

And then, in the immediate wake of the film's release, someone pointed out that lady with the iron. I am ashamed to say I didn't spot her on my one (and only) viewing of the film, but to my credit I was probably trying to pluck out mine eyes during her fleeting seconds of screen time. But I love endlessly her nonetheless, and consider her Lindsey's bangs-adjacent in terms of being the best (or is that the only good?) things about that cinematic atrocity.

The idea that she was riled up enough to join the shouting mob but couldn't take a moment to grab anything more useful than an iron with which to murder Michael Myers...the image of her getting in at least one good wallop with it before Michael, like, stabbed her a hundred times or something...she is why movies were invented! She is the reason for this spooky season! What if she, like Lindsey and Lindsey's bangs, is returning for Halloween Bangs Part Two? The very thought of it has me quaking in anticipation more than I already was! I can't wait to hate it!


SHOCKtober Day 8

 

It is not exactly a we interrupt this program-style breaking news flash to say that John Carpenter's The Thing is one of the absolute greatest horror films of all time. Why, you only have to look upon the readers' faves lists of SHOCKtobers past for all the evidence you need: The Thing is always chilling right near the tip top o' the list. "But Stacie," you say. "You always stress that readers should submit their favorite films, not the films they think are the best. So really, The Thing being on the list only indicates that people like it, not that it's any good."

To this I say pfffft. Yeah, it's a list of favorites...but you seem to be forgetting that Final Girl readers have exquisite taste. It's by default, not design, that they only choose the finest, primest prime cuts of horror, just like this blog's proprietress! Now leave me alone, I have to go watch Cathy's Curse for the millionth time. 

Oh wait, I need to finish today's character spotlight first. Who oh whomst shall it be? Why it's...

R.J. MacCREADY'S HAT IN THE THING (1982)


That fucking hat defies all laws of physics and common sense! When MacReady--undoubtedly one of the coolest characters to ever grace a screen--dons it for his helicopter journey, it's one of the biggest, most baffling jump scares in the film. And mind you, this is a movie that features a dog turning into space spaghetti! That shit looks like something out of the Frank Gehry line for Stetson or something. It breaks my brain every time it makes its appearance. It lingers with me long after the credits roll; While some may be wondering if MacReady or Childs is the thing, I'm still wondering how that hat came to be, what it actually is, and whether the fact that it sits on R.J. MacCready's head makes it automatically cool despite its obvious uncoolness. I guess it does? 

At the risk of sounding like Cathy...ack! This hat is raising so many questions and conundrums...I should have chosen a character with much simpler reasoning. Like Blair! I love him because he's crazy and cranky, the end!

SHOCKtober Day 7

 

One of the things I love most about Don't Go in the Woods...Alone is that it's really just a parade of the most random characters you've ever seen in your life going into the woods (often alone) and paying the ultimate price for their foolery. It's so very not-deep that it makes any Friday the 13th film seem like a rich character study speaking to the human condition. It's insane.

I love each and every random victim (and the few non-victims) in that movie (or "movie," really), so obviously SHOCKtober easily could have been DON'TGOINTHEWOODSALONEtober. But alas, I didn't think of that idea in time and so I can only choose but one to call my "favorite" and let me tell you, even in a roster chock full o' icons, it's an easy choice:

THE ROLLER SKATING HIKER IN DON'T GO IN THE WOODS...ALONE (1981)

LOOK AT HER GO! Honestly, as I sit here looking at that incredible action shot...call me a wackadoo but I think she might be my favorite random character in all of movie history? I can't help but ask a million questions that I in no way want answered. All of those one million questions can be assembled Voltron-style into one mega-question: What is her whole deal?

Like I said, I don't want any answers. I just want to appreciate her for what she is, aka the real Lady Liberty. Have any of us experienced the true blissful freedom that her akimbo arms indicate she is feeling? Imagine the strength that comes with waking up and thinking, "Fuck it, I'm gonna rollerskate up and down a mountain today" and then doing just that...kneecaps out there catching some nice breeze because you don't wear kneepads--you fear no gravel. You will rollerskate through the woods you have been advised not to go in alone because you fear no...whoever the fuck was killing everyone in this movie. In ten seconds of screen time she motivates the audience more than 1000 Tony Robbinses could ever hope to. She is so powerful, she should be on all denominations of all the currencies in the world. 

I wonder what she's got in her backpack. I bet if there was some deleted scene where she opened it, it would let out a huge glow like the Pulp Fiction briefcase.

I'm kinda tired today, in case you can't tell.

SHOCKtober Day 6

Everybody knows that animals run amok and disaster movies are two chaotic tastes that taste *chef's kiss* perfect together, and no single movie demonstrates this quite like The Swarm. It's absolutely everything I could want in a disaster epic of any ilk, never mind one about killer bees!

It's director/producer/disaster king Irwin Allen going way too far, creating a bloated messterpiece that pushes the boundaries of common sense in every respect. The endurance test of a run time is a whopping 157 minutes but it feels more like a good three weeks or so. Romantic subplots are so ill-fitting that they come off as crammed into the proceedings with a crowbar. Terrific character actors (Ben Johnson, Richard Widmark, Fred MacMurray) and trash cinema icons (Cameron Mitchell) go toe to toe to toe with enough Oscar-winning actors to fill the entire Shrine Auditorium several times over. Lee Grant, Patty Duke, Henry Fonda, José Ferrer, Michael Caine, Olivia goddamn de Havilland...all of the scream, yell, and/or worry about bees and I could not be happier about it. 

Children die! Elders die! A (model) train rolls down a hillside and explodes! The Gulf of Mexico is set on fire!

Characters say things like "Houston on fire...will history blame me? Or the BEES?"

With all of the too too way too much-ness in The Swarm, how am I to choose only one favorite character? Hell, the whole movie could be my favorite character! 

But after I calmed down a little bit, the answer became obvious, and so today's spotlight rains down upon...

THE GIANT BEE HALLUCINATION IN THE SWARM (1978)

The Swarm is a movie overstuffed with patent absurdity, but still the big bee stands hovers alone in ridiculous. You see, the bees in The Swarm are a mutant strain of Africanized killer bees, which--along with the Bermuda Triangle and quicksand--were a very big worry back in the day. The Swarm does its best to play into the public's fear (and mild xenophobia) over these bees and so unlike their real-life counterparts, these movie bees are super deadly. You probably got that thanks to the "killer" right there in the name! 

4-5 stings will take you right the fuck out (to Heaven), but if you only get stung a little bit, you'll get sick and...hallucinate giant bees. Thank you, The Swarm, for this. It is so stupid. Thank you.


MAN, I LOVE THE SWARM!

SHOCKtober Day 5

 

Now look, I don't want to get all political during SHOCKtober and ruin any "good" "vibes" you might be seeking or enjoying by visiting this site. Horror, of course, is the LEAST political genre there is! A REAL Master of Horror would never dare infuse political messages into their work. If you don't believe me you can ask John Carpenter! Or a medium who can make contact with George A Romero (RIP king)!

But sometimes in this workaday world one has no choice but to bring up The Important Stuff, even somewhere like a horror blog. And so escapism be damned! I'm getting real by spotlighting the character who struck a blow for women's rights in the slasher genre...

THE BAG LADY IN THE FUNHOUSE (1981)

I love The Funhouse! I think my ancient review of it still sums up my feelings on it quite nicely: it really really captures the grimy carnival vibe and I'm super into it. It's one of the sleaziest slasher movies, but the sleaziness comes through in the details, not in the usual "naked women get brutally murdered" kinda grindhouse way. Of course it's a Tobe Hooper movie, know what I mean? I can't imagine him making any other kind of slasher movie.

So, about that Bag Lady! She comes a-marchin' into the ladies' room just as pleased as punch while two of our horny teens (Amy and Liz) talk about their horniness and whether or not they're going to "do" "it" with their boyfriends. That's when Bag Lady interrupts:

"God is watching you! He hears everything!"

And that's when all the Susan B Anthony coins in circulation began to shine brightly. For you see, the local doomsayer wackadoo is a stock slasher character, but clearly that's a man's job. Crazy Ralph, Abel, that guy in Just Before Dawn...it's always an unkempt fellow warning teens to stay away from places and be less horny lest they be punished. But The Funhouse says no! Women can be just as unkempt and nosy and off putting as men! Let's go real crazy here and have a woman be the Cassandra figure. That's feminism, baby!

Side note: FYI, I almost posted about the Animatronic Funhouse Lady from The Funhouse--another feminist icon, obviously--as today's character. Give yourself a thrill by spending some time thinking about what might have been!



SHOCKtober Day 4

 

If you've been around these parts for more than a ha'second over the last...oh lawd is it really kind of almost two decades?? then you undoubtedly have heard mention of or--if you're very very lucky--caught a glimpse of my beloved football-with-a-sword-attached from the 1981 slasher flick Graduation Day. It is perhaps the nonpareil weapon of all of slasherdom! So stupid, so impractical...yet so deadly! It's great.

Also, side note and fun (?) fact: the football-with-a-sword-attached came along so early in l'histoire de Final Girl that the "screencap" came from a photo I took with a potato digital camera of my TV, my VHS copy of the movie paused at just the right moment. In those days it never occurred to me to search for images or video, even if such things were out there somewhere. So I sourced pretty much everything myself, scanning old magazine photos or VHS/DVD cases, or taking terrible pictures of my TV. Yes, I, too, am so stupid, so impractical...and yet so deadly!

By now you're probably thinking that the football-with-a-sword-attached will be today's favorite character--and while it would be a noble choice, it ain't. But today's favorite is one of football-with-a-sword-attached's moviemates, and that is...

THE ROLLERSKATING PARTY IN GRADUATION DAY (1981)

To celebrate their impending graduation ceremony, the kids (or should I say "kids," because several of them look like middle age-ish adults who work at insurance agencies or something) of I Don't Know, Whatever High get together to party. It's standard slasher movie stuff, featuring a live band (some group called Felony, who I've never heard of, but they wear black lipstick so that's cool), necking, dancing, and rollerskating. So why does this party qualify as one of my favorite characters? Because of all the people who aren't rollerskating: they're just running/walking/shuffling laps around the rink!

I've never seen anything like it in real life or in a movie and I'm completely obsessed. It keeps happening throughout the (fairly long) scene and each shot of it adds years to my lifespan. I now anticipate living to 316.

If you're thinking "man, going around in a circle on wheels is one thing, but doing it on regular old boring feet must be such a drag" let the revelers of Graduation Day assure you that it's not a drag, it's a thrill! A goddamned fist-pumping thrill, okay!

It looks like so much fun that I'm tempted to head to the roller rink and shuffle a few laps myself. And if anyone says to me "What are you, some kind of weirdo?" I will say "Yes! But I am also a Graduation Day fan. Have you seen it? It's this slasher movie from 1981 and it's got Christopher George, Linnea Quigley, Vanna White--yes, that Vanna White, a football-with-a-sword-attached used as a weapon, and this scene at a rollerskating party where many people do laps even though they're not on skates. The lead actress's name is Patch Mackenzie, which, I don't know abut you but I think that's one of the coolest names I've ever heard." By the time I shut up I'd have the whole place to myself!

SHOCKtober Day 3


While it will undoubtedly be one of the great trials of my life, I hereby promise that I will resist the urge to post about characters and/or """"characters"""" from the Friday the 13th film series daily for the remainder of SHOCKtober. As I said, it will be difficult to resist because is it truly a franchise rich in fuckery...but moreover, ever since I submerged myself in its depths while researching my book Death Count, I think about this series all the time. It has become a constant refrain! It might be driving me mad!

So to satisfy the relentless gnawing at the edges of my brain, I must post about someone from the series at least once this month, and today is that day! The day where I post about...

THE SURLY CASHIER IN FRIDAY THE 13th PART III (1982)

Gaze upon her, if you dare! The scowl. The cool-ass hair. The tank top featuring...it's not Miss Piggy, but it seems to be some kind of Mae West pig? The cocked hip. The flash of red-tipped fingernails on said hip. She hates her job and she hates every single one of us and I don't blame her one bit!

Jason Voorhees wouldn't dare try to take her down (before he could get within 20 feet of her the power of her side-eye would have him running right back into Crystal Lake to drown a second time), but if he did try--please note I said "try" because he would most definitely fail--this queen wouldn't be scared, she'd be irritated. The only character who might--might!--be angrier than her is Rhonda Johnson of Killer Workout. (Now, I'm not saying that I'll be talking about Rhonda at some point this month, but...I'll be talking about Rhonda at some point this month.)

Look, I am not going to sit here and ignore the cranky, racist elephant in the room. Gone-too-soon angel/light of my life Vera Sanchez takes a millisecond too long to find her wallet, sullen shopgirl pounces with "We don't accept no food stamps," and Vera gives a "this bitch..." for the ages.

But man, look at that (incredible) contrapposto shoulder line! Is her casual racism a surprise? No! Do I endorse it? Of course not! Is it one of the verrry few passing moments in the franchise that speaks to anything approaching some kind of substance? You could argue that!

Back in SHOCKtober 2020 (which somehow feels like it was a good 15 years ago?) I couldn't choose between Friday the 13th Part 2 and Part III in my Top 20 Faves list. Those two films are like the Grady Girls of my heart: definitely not twins but also sort of the same. I still can't choose! But given today's spotlight character...hmm, you know...maybe I can declare a winner once and for all. Just don't tell Part 2!

SHOCKtober Day 2

 

After yesterday's wigifesto here at The Old Final Girl Place, you might be surprised to see that today's featured favorite character is in fact an actual character and real human person. To this I say: hey, I have no idea where the rickety-ass haunted minecart that is SHOCKtober will take us, so let's just sit back, pop a handful of Brach's Mellowcreme® Autumn Mix, and enjoy today's stop...

KITTY THE TOOTHBRUSH QUEEN IN ONE DARK NIGHT (1982)

I love One Dark Night because it is a movie that truly has it all: 

  • oozy corpses
  • tasseled boots
  • a clique of girls who call themselves The Sisters and wear matching purple satin jackets that say SISTERS on the back in a cool font
  • Meg Tilly
  • feathered-and-beaded roach clips
  • a dead, murderous, telekinetic Russian psychic
  • E.G. motherfucking Daily
  • a finale replete with dazzling effects courtesy of WETA Spencer's Gifts

and most importantly...Kitty! Who has a toothbrush in her mouth for at least 95% of her screentime.

Whether she's walking the halls of school or the halls of a local mausoleum, she's chewing on that brush. It's really weird and really gross and I love it!

Late in the proceedings, Carol finally gives voice to the question that has been plaguing the audience for at least an hour: umm, what's the deal with the toothbrush?

"I don't know," says Kitty. "I guess I just like the way it tastes."

Sure, don't we all enjoy the cool refreshing sensation that a minty flavored toothpaste provides? At some point in human history, somebody said "I would like to experience the cool refreshing sensation of a minty flavored toothpaste even when I am not brushing my teeth" and then they invented the breath mint. At some other point in human history, someone else said "I would like to experience the cool refreshing sensation of a minty flavored toothpaste even when I am not brushing my teeth, and also I really enjoy chewing" and then they invented gum. I'm sure these goods were readily available in 1982, but Kitty is like "Fuck that, I'm not spending money on mints and/or gum, I'll just suck on my used toothbrush all day to the disgust of my friends and, once blogs are invented, to the delight of some horror blogger." And here we are!

But Kitty's toothbrush provides her with more than mere flavors and bacteria. It is perhaps her only real friend! In death (spoiler), she reaches out not for Carol or any of the Sisters, but for toothbrush, her beloved companion to the end.

Let us hope that toothbrush and Kitty crossed the river Styx together, and now they're grossing everyone out in Heaven.