Thursday, February 6, 2014

Beast From Haunted Cave (1959)

This 1950's black and white classic holds a very, very special place in my heart. Not only is it filmed in the Black Hills of South Dakota, my home state, but it also has a hilariously inaccurate and uncomfortably long tag line: "Screaming young girls sucked into a labyrinth of horror by a blood-starved ghoul from Hell".  I really love this so-wrong-it's-right film.


I've been looking for a good movie to give my first All GIF review to - Beast From Haunted Cave should be good. But let's iron out a few things first:

#1: No young girls are sucked into a labyrinth of horror.
#2: A few walk in voluntarily.
#3: There is no evidence to conclude the monster is blood-starved.
#4: It's a spider thing, not a ghoul...as far as I can see.
#5: The ghoul is not from Hell - it lives in a cave and is most likely a lost ancient arachnid that just needs a hug.
#6: The cave, young girls, ghoul, and Hell all play rather minor roles in the film.
#7: This movie is actually about money, sex, and power.
#8: The cave is not haunted.

Now that we got that out there - let the GIF party begin!

The movie begins and it looks like it has promise!



But within a few seconds I get confused by the Fear-Freezing Suspense... WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?



Then there is a bunch of people skiing:



Enter criminals, unawares there is more than just gold in them there hills:



The criminals, one being The Girlfriend, immediately begin arguing. In fact, that is what they do through the entire film. They "fight" over drinks, singing, gold, snow, gold-stealing plans, people's attention:



Me, at this point:



Plans are made for gold thievery. None of which make a whole lot of sense:



Thieving plans involve taking unsuspecting people into the woods. That's when things begin to get ugly...





Enter: Beast From Haunted Cave!



Actually, it's more like this:



Monster does monster business:



And then suddenly, the monster's reign of terror is over:




And now, The Beast From Haunted Cave is added to your Favorite Movies of All Time List:



You're welcome.
Pairs best with anyone and anything silly.

In fact, you can watch is now for free through the Internet Archive!!

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Your Friend The Fiend

While doing my recent annual What Is In All These Boxes? apartment cleanse, I stumbled upon a couple slips of paper that brought a smile to my face.

Back when I first started this blog I thought it would be fun to write reviews from the monster's point of view. On those found slips of paper were my four attempts at just that - reviews of very bad horror movies from the villain's point of view. Four attempts, that is as far as I got before deciding to write more about myself.

Here for your amusement (and so I can toss away these pieces of paper) are the poorly written reviews from a category I toyed with titling: The Rapscallion's Response, or The Villain's View, or Your Friend The Fiend.

The Terror (1963):



Wow, what can I say but it was such a pleasure to work with Boris Karloff and Jack Nicholson. Maybe I was a little too excited because my performance as The Terror wasn't all that terrifying. Although the film was named after me, I simply wasn't that clear in my role. I mean, I wasn't really given proper direction. In fact, the editing left me feeling as if my role really didn't even have a point at all. It was mostly about Jack and some strange lady. I felt as if my character morphed into some sort of existential crises that became lost in a drunken haze at some ego-busting art show that I found tickets too the night I was kicked out of Ed's Bar and Grill for the last time, but I digress.

Although I didn't feel as if my role as The Terror really flourished in this picture, I did enjoy working with Big B and J-Nick. They were good sports. Ah, and the other actors in the film were good too, even if they just wandered around the screen as aimlessly as I did.

Watch me here!


Man In The Attic (1953):



I'm a creepy guy and women love me, at least one woman who has the balls to perform 1950's burlesque shows in Victorian England does. Yeah, that's my type of girl...absurdly ahead of her time. The slut. Women. I love/hate/love/hate women. It's cool though, 'cause I live in some stranger's attic and I work odd hours. I'm just like any other dude, 'cept I live in an attic, work strange hours, and love hate women.

Watch me here:

Scream Bloody Murder (1973):



Nonsensical murderous rampage. That's what I'm about. Okay, sometimes I sleep but really I'm mostly all up in the nonsensical murderous rampage grill. There is also this girl that is kinda cool. Nonsensical murderous rampage. That's what I'm about. Better recognize Midwestern wholesome values suckas.

Watch me here:


Funeral Home (1980):


I'm a funeral home. Why would anyone in their right mind want to turn me into a bed and breakfast? It's beyond me. But c'est la vie. I'm at the mercy of a teenage fantasy and her grandmother's reluctance to let go of the past. Out of spite, I'll just stay moody, impracticable, and a magnet for trashy guests. Don't let the door hit you on the way out!


Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Celebrity Ghost Stories (Television Show, 2008)

I stumbled across this series while on an impromptu solo vacation not too long ago to a little island in Puget Sound. I like to do that from time to time - just run off at the last minute to some little snug hidden from the city to blend with the locals and day dream for days.

On this particular exploration, I walked off the ferry on a cold and drizzly November day with an absurdly heavy leather bag over my shoulder and a cigarette hanging from my lips. I knew the name of where I was heading but unlike most of my explorations I didn't exactly prepare on how to get there except to take the ferry across the monster-riddled waters and walk to the island's village square. I figured, it's a small island, how lost could I get?

It was a larger island than I had anticipated (on foot), and I will no longer be carrying my laptop AND some books in one bag. There were bruises...for days.

So after giving myself the walking tour I had intended on taking sans heavy bags, I finally located where I would be staying, a little cottage structure tucked away in the woods. The desk clerk was pleasant and quite curious why I choose their place to stay in for the weekend. I hesitated before saying "smoking rooms are a luxury these days" and instead smiled, wiped some sweat from my face and told her that I simply wanted to get away to see some sights and do a little writing. Also true. She smiled back. I'd like to think she thought I was famous. I often like to walk around thinking I'm giving the famous air.

The room was neat, cozy, and perfect. I lit a cigarette, plopped on the bed, and turned on the TV. Sweet indulgent heaven. While trying to figure out the remote I noticed a television show called Celebrity Ghost Stories. I snorted. Surely that type of television cheese would be awful. I made a point of being back in the room by the time it started (8:00 PM).

I walked out of the room and went in search of food. The sky was already growing quite dark and the rain picked up. No one was around, the forest was reaching out into the lonely wet street and for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to take a route I hadn't yet explored. I could see the village lights up in the distance and was thankful, just 5 minutes into fairly aimless wandering and I was ready for some faces and light.

Just then a tumble of wet leaves blew across my face. I stopped, looked to my left and noticed a large number of suspiciously non-forest looking bushes and  a piece of what appeared to be at one point a mowed lawn yet my surroundings didn't feel habituated by people - for a while.

Like a genius I followed the strip of lawn through the bushes and found myself staring at a completely dark Victorian house. I mean dark empty. The porch was falling apart and the windows and siding hadn't seen a kind hand for decades.

The smarts kept coming. I walked closer, to examine. I nearly stumbled across the For Sale sign that had fallen over and I couldn't keep my footing. The place was almost dizzying. Not because of the size (it was a smaller house), but it seemed so lost and yet right at home at the same time. I felt like I was trespassing but I kept telling myself that the For Sale sign world keep me safe. There was another sense of trespassing, however. A surreal sense, but I kept on walking.

I made it to the porch, cupped my hands to the window and peered inside. At first I saw a huge kitchen which opened into an even larger dinning room. Indecipherable items were scattered about. The place was certainly empty, for a long time, but it still felt like life was just trying to make it's way through the cracked floorboards and disheveled wallpaper.

I followed the porch to the side of the house. I could see what once was probably a lovely little garden, a toppled-over storage shed hid partly in the dark forest. A rocking chair sat idle on the porch overlooking what was probably a gardeners paradise. I looked inside another window and saw stairs, a little pantry, and something else - something that moved. Some sort of shadow darted into another corner of the house. What was that? It was gone as quickly as it caught the corner of my eye.

Suddenly I had an overwhelming sense of intrusion. It was time to head out. Then I heard it. Or at least I thought I had heard something. Noise, life, a busy home, lively home, an old man's hearty chuckle - jokingly shouting to someone. To me? There was life after all? The house was still bustling. I couldn't see it, but someone or something could see me - and it was having a good time.This place WAS a good time. Was.

I quickly jumped off the porch and walked away shaken but intrigued. This place spooked me and yet, something about the experience felt very personal.

I finally found a place to eat and wandered home via the safe-non-haunted house route. I also made it back in time for Celebrity Ghost Stories. I was enamored. I sat through several episodes and by the end I was jumping at the slightest sound. I was so engrossed that I had to step outside for a while and take a breather. I had never experienced a TV show quite like this one. It was a lot of fun.

The  next day I woke up and decided to go to the local museum. Small local museums are the best. To my great surprise I met an elderly man who spent his childhood living near the very house I stumbled across the night prior. He was childhood friends with their grandchildren. He was frail yet sprightly and said with fondness, "They always had food, always, and took care of anyone who passed through town, especially school teachers. They let the teachers live there with them. Good people - one of the original founders of the island."

If you even remotely enjoyed a bit of the story I just relayed then I highly suspect you will like this series. The stories these celebrities tell are told camp fire style yet more personal, more moving. These are stories from the heart. Ultimately, the stories told here are of a caliber I tip my hat to.

Celebrity Ghost Stories, the stories and how they are told, is like my little adventure. No huge spooky moments or monsters - just a little snip-it in time where something has chosen to laugh, scare, and perhaps love you for no reason except you were in the right place at the right time. Something that gives you a story to share and makes you wonder. This series is a reminder that no matter who you are, adventures are always right there with you, you just have to peek in a little bit. Happy New Year.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Suck (2009)

Tis the holiday season still! Time to say thanks and give.

I'd like to say thank you, personal music collection, for being so bad ass. In honor of being so bad ass, I'm going to make a mixed CD and give it as gifts to all my loved ones. Sharing my bad ass music collection makes me feel good because my loved ones love the CDs and I enjoy knowing I have such a bad ass collection.

Which brings me to tonight's movie.

If you love music - and I mean good music not crap - the really sexy cool music, like everything in my collection, then you'll love this movie.

Netflix has been yelling at me to watch this film for a long time and for some reason it has taken me a very long time to warm up to it. It takes me a while to warm up to vampire flicks period. Perhaps I'm a little burned out, or perhaps they are a little over played, but ultimately I feel vampire movies seem a fang too easy to make for me to find instantly intriguing.

NOT SUCK, as it turns out.


Partly because the music is awesome. If you enjoy music by Catherine Wheel, Jesus and Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine, and Swervedriver then you know what I'm talking about here.

I almost threw this one into the Happy Horror category but decided against it because the undertone of the film is no laughing matter. Sure sure, this comedy vampire movie is about a band trying to make it and ultimately do because they become cool: with their addiction. 

It's their addiction that grabbed me pretty hard. Although it's about blood in the film, the undertones parallel anyone, especially band members who, as they become more popular, are increasingly exposed to a dark and seedy world of drugs, etc. That stuff is not funny, but Suck sure made a fine dark comedy about it.

Which makes the music stars that appear in the film all that more intriguing. For instance, Iggy Pop (my birthday buddy), who is surprising alright after his decades of abuse is actually the words of wisdom for the band and tries to get them to kick their habit. While Alice Cooper, a staunch anti drug and alcohol advocate in real life, is the pusher man in this film.

This is a fun film and a good one for those that don't like Ultimate Horror films. It's smart, pretty, sexy, and fun. A great Saturday night flick. I'm adding to the favorites list because of the music and creativity.

Suggested pairing. Red wine and your favorite play list.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Santa Sangre (1989)

Happy Holidays everyone! In honor of this festive season I've decided to watch a horror movie with the word 'Santa' in the title!

Actually - it's taken me about three years to get through Santa Sangre.


I'd start it and then six to eight months later I'd watch a little more but have to stop because all of the crazy - brain could not take all of the crazy - then pick it up again only to be defeated by the crazy for another six to eight months.

Santa Sangre is completely and totally insane. 

Like, if Carrie's mother and Norman's mother got together for a three month binge on PCP all the while their children were their disguised dealers insane.

This film is very disturbing, but it takes a while to realize how disturbing it is because the film moves so erratically and over-the-top. There is blood and feathers everywhere,  including an elephant with blood shooting out of it's trunk. Circus performers EVERYWHERE (note, there are many clowns....many many clowns). I'm going to just give you a moment to soak up this visual so far.

....

Okay, moving on. Religions, sex, prostitution, child abuse, and infidelity play a huge role too. And it gets worse! Once you realize what's going on, for instance when you realize how connected the son is to his neurotic mother, your skin crawls and you just want the ride to stop. This is why it took me so long to get through this epic film. It was too dark, insane, and disturbing for me to watch in one seating.

That said, I'm glad I finally got through it. This is an incredible film and deserves the praise it has received. I don't think I'll watch it again though. Once is enough.

Now, to top this whole experience off, read this IMDB Message Board post titled: "NOT A FILM ABOUT SANTA!!". To quote the user:

 "I took my kids to see this film last night as they are still young enough to believe in Santa Claus. I didn't get it though; this film has got nothing to do with Santa? I demanded my money back but didn't get it because we had sat there for too long (waiting). My kids were really upset. I can't believe someone would want to mislead us like that! It makes me really angry."

 Ohhhhh hooo hoo, ahhh HA HAHAHAHA. Ah. Thank you, erlendsp. Thank you for that, I really needed some dark comic relief after watching and writing about Santa Sangre. Going to cry as I laugh now.

Off to watch happy things for a while. Happy Holidays!