Fatally-yours review: The Fog (1980)

Fatally-Yours Review: The Fog (1980)

The Fog is tamer than John Carpenter’s other horror ventures, and doesn’t seem to gain as much love as, let’s say The Thing or Halloween. Where the latter gave birth to Shatner-faced Boogieman, Michael Myers and churned out seven sequels (not to mention Rob Zombie’s inferior remake in 2007), The Fog didn’t initially garner the same level of popularity with audiences, who were perhaps hungry for another iconic slasher villain. Nor did it necessarily offer the mind-bending and gory special effects witnessed in The Thing. That’s not to say that The Fog doesn’t deliver – it does, but on a different level entirely. An old-fashioned American ghost-story, The Fog is a campfire tale brought to life, bathed in swirling mist and darkness. Its origins deal with an ancient crime, and the sweet promise of retribution. It’s subject matter ripe for a horror film.

It’s the centenary celebrations of desolate town Antonio Bay, and strange occurrences have already happened. A small boat, bobbing on liquorice waters in the dead of night is attacked, surrounded by a fog bank that shouldn’t be there – there’s the glimpse of a huge, tattered sail as a ship drifts by, and then there’s the figures that emerge; thin, wraith-like men, armed with hooks. The bodies of the three men onboard are found the next day, looking like they’ve spent a month under water. It’s a mystery that’s gripped many members of the community, but few are ready to acknowledge the strange goings on and how they coincide with Antonio Bay’s grizzly past and the anniversary of the town. You see, a hundred years ago, a wealthy leper named Blake travelled with several members of his colony, hoping to settle just north of Antonio Bay. But, the town founders weren’t happy with the idea of “a leper colony a mile away”, and devised a plan. In the night, and amongst a heavy patch of fog, they purposely misguided Blake’s ship by campfire, guiding it into the rocks. The ship was destroyed and everyone on board was killed. The town founders, “the six conspirators” plundered the ship, stealing Blake’s wealth and invested it in Antonio Bay, including its church. Now, on the 100th year anniversary, Blake and his crew have returned, wanting to take back what is rightfully theirs, and the lives in place of the 6 conspirators, who were responsible for their deaths. It’s like Father Malone garbles; “The celebration tonight is a travesty! We’re honouring murders”. And indeed they are! But it’s not all doom an’ gloom, oh no – their misfortune makes for a very fine ghost story, and a creepy one at that.

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Movie Review: The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008)

The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008)

Not exactly looking forward to The Day the Earth Stood Still, I naturally went in with low expectations. I pretty much went in to appease Father – it was either this or Quantum of Solace, and I’m not entirely fickle when it comes to Daniel Craig’s blond, thuggish James Bond. I did enjoy Casino Royale, but alas, his second venture as 007 was on too late for this weary student (for shame). So, Keanu Reeves’ CGI-fest it was.

The credits open in a starry sky, with suitable ominous music present. It was a crafty way for filmmakers to grab my attention – I’m simple; I instantly associate starry sky + said ominous music with good films i.e. Star wars, Alien. Actually, while my mind was beginning to drift away, I did perk up, until the title appeared, reminding me what I was about to inflict upon myself. In all seriousness, I do try to keep an open mind when it comes to viewing films, regardless of budget constraints and actors present– being faced with the regular deadpan Keanu Reeves doesn’t make it easy, however.

The Day the Earth Stood Still is a yet another remake, and this time it's a modern update of Robert Wise's 1951 science-fiction classic of the same name. This time, however, Keanu Reeves' is playing Klaatu, a human-looking alien who lands on Earth complete with a giant robot in tow. In a rather marvellous scene, Klaatu is shot, and his robot goes on the defence, switching down tanks, and various fucking gigantic weapons which have surrounded them (courtesy of the army etc). It is a pretty cool scene, but you can't help but think; for crying out loud, another scene where human beings act stupid! Anyways, Klaatu is whisked away, and receives treatment by Dr. Helen Benson (Jennifer Connolly), who believes that the alien is here to save mankind from destruction. Klaatu later escapes, and calls upon Dr. Helen to help him. She arrives on scene with her stepson, (played by Will Smith's kid), and thus a journey begins, filled with almost fuck-all, aside from one of the most disgustingly obvious examples of product-placement I can remember in a blockbuster.

Fuck you, Ronald McDonald!

As it turns out, the dull and vacant Keanu -- eh, I mean, Klaatu, isn't here to save mankind, but rather save the Earth. From us. That's right, humans fuck-up again. Honestly, by the end of this film, I had such a tension headache for the sheer amount of stupidity displayed on screen . . . I swear, I almost had a brain hemorrhage. Regardless, it's up to Dr. Helen and her bratty stepson to change Klaatu's opinion of mankind, and encourage him to give us a second chance.

Btw, here’s a tip, if you thought it was a swell idea to invite some pals around, and maybe play a wee drinking game, DON’T revolve it around The Day the Earth Stood Still. For example; if you’ve to take a drink every time Jennifer Connolly’s Dr. Helen Benson smiles, then you’ll spend your entire evening stone-cold sober. Similarly if you’ve to take a slug every time Klaatu makes you giggle – in a good way i.e. the witty dialogue, and not Keanu Reeves' acting ability. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed a more humourless film, especially given that the characters don’t even smile. I know it could possibly be the end-of-the-world and all that jazz, but SMILE. I swear, drawing blood from a stone would possibly be easier.


I found the CGI atrocious. But then again, heaps and HEAPS of CGI just don't do it for me -- if it's your kind of thing, then this blockbuster may be for you. I personally didn't find it entertaining. Although I like Jennifer Connolly as an Actor, and I appreciate her ability, her character was so boring in this film --nothing particularly noteworthy at all. The wooden crown, however firmly rests on the head of Keanu Reeves. I really do wonder how much he got payed for this film. And again, I left the cinema with one big tension headache -- virtually every single human is portrayed as stupid and plain ignorant. Annoying.

Saying all this negative stuff, however, I do feel like The Day the Earth Stood Still did raise some interesting issues; namely how as human’s we’re not only destroying ourselves, but also our planet . . . who’d have guessed?!? I did get annoyed at the stupidity – everyone in this film is practically stupid. Not just stupid, but fuckin’ stupid. Honestly, everyone lacks common sense, and has this strange desire to fuck-up, blow shit up, blow shit out of proportion etc. Most of the film is dedicated to how fucking stupid humans are, and how’re we’re constantly fuckin’ up.

Ah, well, I think my Father enjoyed it anyway.

Fatally-yours review: The Haunting

Remember I mentioned this groovy website, like a wee while ago?

Well, I've recently started writing reviews for the website. Hopefully, it'll give me a larger incentive to actually focus on film reviews -- which I love doing, and move away from mindless ramblings -- which I alas, frequently do.

My first review for Fatally-yours is the horror classic, The Haunting (1963). Every week, I'll post the first couple of paragraphs, and then a "read on" option -- 'cause I might get into trouble if I slap the whole thing up here!

The Haunting (1963)

The Haunting is the "little old woman" of the horror genre - even if you don't like her, you've still got to show her some respect. Sure, it's a film frequently overlooked in horror circles; possibly due to its distinct lack of gore, sex and even creative death sequences. But that doesn't mean the film isn't memorable. You see, The Haunting doesn't deal with malicious monsters or some other creature that goes bump in the night (well, strictly speaking, it does, but they're not of your standard flesh-and-blood variety). Nope, The Haunting is a traditional ghost story. But, it isn't a rattling chains and floating sheets affair; it's an intelligent, thought-provoking tale. I'd go as far as to deem it the definitive ghost story.

Director Robert Wise (whose previous horror credentials include Curse of the Cat People and The Body Snatcher in the 1940s) has relied upon other means to invoke terror, however. What's scary is simple: it's the unseen, the burgeoning tension and mounting sense of dread, the noises and the strange, unexplainable occurrences. I believe that's something a truly gifted director (like Wise) can accomplish - create a menacing presence without the aid of a visual representation of the antagonist(s). And the late Robert Wise was one marvellous director. From the opening credits, he manages to captivate us, drawing us into his twisted little horror film of a house "born bad".

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Grr Argh . . .The Graveyard Book

Yes, so I've been incredibly lax on the whole blogsphere. I normally try to do at least three posts a week or something, even if it is frequently drunken-fueled banter. My qualms about having the lack of ID is a prime example. Yes, one day I hope I can conjure the motivation to actually seek sufficient ID -- I am getting annoyed at having to rely upon friends (and blackmailing various family members) to get me booze and horror films. Sad, I know, but that's the price for having such a youthful appearance . . . sigh

I'm better keeping my trap firmly shut; no doubt thirty will hit me, and I'll look like this:

Uhuh, that's the consequence of an extended student lifestyle right there, albeit with slightly less boob sagage (well, I really do hope . . .) Man, I'm now in the mood to watch Stardust. What a wonderful film -- I do love Neil Gaiman. Speaking of, I recently read The Graveyard book, and it was a lovely read. Obviously nothing entirely deep or intense, but it was delightful -- like a dark, modern day fairy tale. The type of offbeat story which is ideal for kids and adults alike. As I'm aware, there are a variety of editions of The Graveyard Book available (yes, one isn't enough for this publication); a children's edition illustrated by Chris Riddell, an adult edition illustrated by Dave McKeane, a limited edition slipcase edition, and one bound in human skin and inked with the blood of virgins (kidding, obviously).

For more info, scoot on over to The Graveyard book website

Tuesday Trailer of the Week!

28 Days Later (2002)

I love the trailer for Danny Boyle's apocalyptic horror film, 28 Days Later. Urgh, but not so much the tedious debates still abound on imdb -- is it a zombie film, or not?! It's one of those questions which sparks a rare response in me; shut up, and enjoy the damn film! Of course, 28 Days is so much more than mere horror fodder -- it's entirely thought-provoking, inspiring a "what if" train of thought. And those images of a ravaged, seemingly desolate London? Absolutely astounding.

I love the bleary beginning; the pulsating lights and the subtitles, telling us a story without actually showing us the events . . . yet. John Murphy's instrumental track In the House in a Heartbeat is suitably eerie, creeping around in the background. It's a wonderful track, even if it has been a bit overused post 28 Days. Plus, what other horror trailer has a nude Cillian Murphy? Exactly.

Groovy Website: Fatally yours

Aside from my various ramblings and phony reviews, I do sometimes draw attention to certain websites, which I think deserve more coverage than they initially receive. Fatally Yours in one such site, and I've enjoyed their reviews immensely.

Just click on the fancy banner/thang. Yes, I'm oh-so technical!



PS: They drew my attention to GingerDead Man 2, so they obviously rock!

I could've done without the porn

Firstly, I asked a friend to get me the German DVD of Hammer Horror's The Vampire Lovers. My reason? Well, there's a rather nifty commentary I wish to listen to, which isn't on my current edition. It sucks -- of course, I believe in equal DVD extras for everybody. Especially if it's something rather interesting in relation to the original text . . .

This morning however, when I thought my DVD had arrived and ripped off the packaging, I was greeted with this:

What the fuck!?

That's right. No, it's not Ingrid Pitt sauntering around in a nightie, sadly. It's just porn. I mean, I guess it's a lovely surprise an' all, but it wasn't what I was in the mood for. . . Emm . . . I dunno, I guess I can't use it for a potential review. Can I? Maybe?

Le sigh. Well, I guess it's easy to get the two titles confused. They both have the words "vampire" and "lover(s)" in the title. Okay, it's easy to get confused if you're my mate Chris. Sorry, Chris, next time I'll shop online with you. We'll get something nice and simple; a film that doesn't have a similar-sounding porno equivalent. Unless you did it on purpose, you sly bastard.

Since today was my "Lazy Day", (man, I don't get enough of those) I played some Guitar Hero, did some shopping and watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. I love that film so much, even if it's been a while since I'd last seen it. I mean, it's one of those films I'd ask my Grandmother about (she's a cool ol' lady, who loves the classic horror films, and rather knowledgeable herself), and she'd describe everything in detail. In short, she fed my early horror cravings. Thanks, Gran. Hopefully, I'll write a review of The Birds soon.

Also, how fuckin' cool is Repo! The Genetic Opera? Yes, it's bad, but I've only heard of this horror/sci-fi/musical hybrid recently. I'm already hooked on numerous songs, and have since purchased the soundtrack from iTunes. Goodness knows when I'll actually be granted the opportunity to watch this fabulous little film. Oh, and how I love Anthony Head. Yes, I'll admit it, I had a little crush when he was Giles in Buffy. Uhuh, Librarians can be sexy too. Well, I think so.

Em. Anyway, aside from Librarians and horror movies, I do actually love musicals, particularly if they're blended with another genre -- The Rocky Horror Picture Show being a prime example. Oh, how I love that film so much -- it's utterly ridiculous that I haven't seen it on stage yet. I'd totally dress up, and encourage everyone else to do like wise. And no, I'm not exactly stoked about the planned MTV Rocky Horror remake, but I'll no doubt watch it, thus contradicting myself. But, I digress. Here's my favourite song from the up-coming Repo! A Genetic Opera, Zydrate Anatomy;

For further interesting details, I encourage you to take a gander at the wonderful (and 100% official!) Repo! Website. Their Myspace is equal parts wonderful. So go and show your support! Hopefully, the film can ensure a wider run at cinemas. If not, well, I'll go for Plan B; hire a fuckin' projector and rent out my town hall. Okay, so I'm not entirely sure if we even have a town hall here, but screw it, I'll find somewhere! Heck, I'll ship out all the excess furniture, and use my sitting room if need be. It'll be cool.

McTerminator Salvation

Yes, I think McG is an absolute stinker of a Director. But, I'm going to keep an open mind with the release of Terminator Salvation. Surely to God, it can't be worse than Rise of the Machines?

Well, I am diggin' the poster art. It looks waaaay better than it's predecessor;

Which ain't difficult. It looks like Schwarzenegger and Loken couldn't be arsed getting their photos taken, and somebody got blindingly drunk, then thought it would be pretty nifty to slap the CGI counterparts on the poster instead. No problem. Except it sucks.

I still prefer the poster for the Terminator, even if it does look like Arnold's wandered into an 80s disco.

Tuesday Trailer of the Week

Street Trash (1987)

Are you tired of the same ol' routine? Bustin yer hump and gettin' nowhere? Drop out an' join the ranks of the few . . .

Okay, so ignore the first minute of this weeks trailer -- Street Trash isn't some stoner comedy. Yeah, sure, it is funny, but it's so much more than a mere comedy/horror. The effects are truly gross (perhaps reminiscent of early Troma), and maybe a wee bit offensive. But it's all done in the name of fun. Street Trash may be cheesy, shoddy -- actually the latter part of it's title is accurate, but it's very much entertaining, and worth tracking down.

Movie Review: Scar 3D

Movie Review: Scar 3D

Dir. Jed Weintrob

Our local cinema was pretty busy for this one, which is surprising. Scar 3D (2007) hasn't been given much publicity in this neck of the woods, and any review which I have read, has been pocketed away in the corner, its abysmal score highlighted more so than the meagre couple of lines devoted to it. But, heck, it is in 3D. And like myself, that's probably why so many people turned up. That's right, tap "3D" on the end of a title, and we'll turn up in droves.

Hailed as a 3D event, Scar 3D claims to be the first live action feature to be entirely shot in HD 3D. But don't be fooled by this simple boast; it wastes its gimmick, and the only entertaining scene is a striptease. That's right: the only memorable thing about this film is a pair of 3D jugs. And for the record, that's really sad.

On one hand, I really wanted to like this film: it's my first 3D horror film experience, and I've always been secretly jealous of those able to see Friday the 13th Part III 3D (1982), Parasite (1982) and even Jaws 3-D (1983) at the cinema. Sure, 3D films have been making a comeback, but most of them have been family friendly, adventure-filled pap. I want blood an' guts. I'm still holding out for Final Destination 4 to be released next year, and I'm bloody hoping it doesn't disappoint. Please, I can't endure another Scar 3D. I also love Angela Bettis (no, she doesn't annoy me at all), and could happily write about her contribution to the horror genre for days. Her role as the title-character in Lucky McKee's May (2002) horrified and moved me simultaneously, and as a result, won me over as a fan. But, on the other hand Scar 3D is just atrocious and no, not in the confusing "so bad its good" category, just plain bad. In terms of torture horror, this is the runt of the litter. While other torture horrors are running around yelping, and tearing shit to shreds, this one's still sprawled on it's ass, licking itself in inappropriate places. Don't ask me how you can sprawl on your ass, I'm just making a point.

Angela Bettis plays Joan Burrows, a thirtysomething returning to her hometown for her niece, Olympia's high school graduation. Sixteen years ago, however, Joan and her best friend were kidnapped by Bishop, the town undertaker who tortured them, playing a bizarre type of Sophie's Choice -- he'd stop cutting Joan, if she told him to kill her friend. Joan's pal died, and Joan escaped, killing Bishop in the process. In the present day, a copycat killer is offing the local teenagers, and with Olympia looking like a potential victim, it's up to Auntie Joan to save the day.

The action is beefed-up with several laborious flashbacks to Joan's ordeal with Bishop, showcasing how she earned the long scar flicked under her chin. Although we know what's going to unravel, it's here the acting is at its best and you truly believe that the girls are best friends, and terrified for each others survival. It's uncomfortable viewing. Saying this, Scar has some of the worst acting I've ever seen in a mainstream film. It really is cringe-worthy, especially when coupled with Zack Ford's absolutely dire script. Now, I'm certain the shock absorped most of my memory, but I think one exchange went something like this:

Olympia: "My Mom passed away sometime ago . . ."
Paul: "Oh. I'm sorry. So, did you remember your iPod?"
Yeah, I sure did, you insensitive bastard. That's what I'd say, but Olympia just acts all mushy. And stupid.

As with most torture horror, the blood-letting is pretty much unrelenting, and consequently, not much screen time is given for plot or even character development. It leaves behind a boring, clichéd affair, and the 3D element is pretty much redundant. A completely wasted effort.

I love Threadless

I love Threadless.

And Threadless loves horror.

Quite a wonderful combination, especially for me, the ever-geeky horror fan. Yes, I love my film-themed t-shirts (the more geeky/obscure, the better). But, they're normally designed for dudes, so they end up draped around my knees . . . well, aside from the ones which read "Vampire Bitch" and "Fucking Classy". Yes, I am a fucking classy vampire bitch. And I also make my Mother proud.

Rue Morgue, the leading publication for horror entertainment, has teamed up with Threadless.com for a design challenge. The concept is my favourite and yours: horror. That's right, so it'll be pretty darn easy. Yes, so easy that I won't be taking part. If you've got a passion for creating, and a groovy idea for a horror t-shirt, why not submit your idea? Your horrific design could win you a bunch of cool stuff like:

• Money
• Horror memorabilia
• A feature in Rue Morgue
• A "limited edition skate deck from Alkaline Trio"
• A 70s vintage Fender bass guitar
• And probably loads more of em . . . exciting stuffs!

But that all depends, can you topple this mighty T'?

I fuckin' hope so. The closing date is December the 1st, folks.

Urgh . . .

So . . .

I live in a tiny, teensy-weensy little town in the middle of Scotland. Everything closes at like, 10.00ish, aside from a few bars (and we know I get ID’d for everything). Therefore it is typically the bore. And the weather is also crap: it's cold, it's dark and it's windy -- not suitable for a girl with gorgeous locks of hair such as I. Oh, no! But my night isn't all doom and gloom: I've had to move about like a truck-load of furniture (I have biceps of steal), and I've uncovered some old VHS and a stack of DVDs which I'd forgotten about . . . Bad me. But good in the sense that I now have a bunch of awesome crap to watch! I mean, Hostel Part II . . . I think that one was okay, wasn't it? Anyway, I know it's so 2007, but I plan on writing something regarding the "Torture Porn" subgenre pretty soon. Even though I'm not a particular fan: my interest stems from the exploitation flicks of the 70s and early 80s (which I am a fan of -- well, the history at the very least), and torture porn seems to regurgitate some of those ideas/conventions, if pushing the barrier even more so.

Films that I have watched recently are: The Wicker Man (1973) and Scar 3D (2007). One was bloody wonderful, and one was . . . well, rather shite. Can you guess which one, hmmm? I hope you said The Wicker Man was bloody wonderful 'cause then you'd be right. That reminds me, I was flicking through a DVD magazine, and The Wicker Man was listed as one of the "All-time Greatest Horror DVDs" or something, and it highlighted Britt Ekland's dance as one of the stand-out scenes. And if you want to know why -- or more importantly, want to check out a classic horror movie, then go get The Wicker Man. That's right! Get it right now! Just remember it's the 1973 version, not that 2006 pap with Nicholas Cage . . . shudder.

I don't need an excuse . . .

Movie Review: April Fool's Day (1986)

April Fool's Day (1986)

Clara: “Have a nice party.”

Muffy: “Nice? It's gotta be better than nice. It's gotta be bloody unforgettable!”

April Fool's Day is a rarity in the horror field. On one hand, it's an 80s slasher, envisioned by the likes of Fred Walton, the guy who previously directed When a Stranger Calls (1979) and Frank Mancuso Jr, the producer of Friday the 13th Part II, III, The Final Chapter and A New Beginning (1982, 1983, 1984, 1985). So, we should know what we're letting ourselves in for, right?

Rather, I was pleasantly surprised when I'd ejected the DVD, and held it aloft with a twinkle in my eye, and a dopey grin on my face. You see, April Fool's Day is so much more than a standard 80s slash-fest. Sure, it revolves the narrative around a holiday, much like Halloween (1978), Christmas Evil (1980) and My Bloody Valentine (1981). But, and here lies a MASSIVE SPOILER: the rarity lies in the body count, which is a big-fat zero. Rather than feeling duped, and wanting to hurl my remote control at the TV, I instead wanted to hug the DVD case, and perhaps caress the disk a little bit. It's a crafty little film, which plays with the conventions of the slasher film, and as a result -- its audiences expectations. I know many people felt rather cheated when they viewed the ending (and oh, what an ending), but I'm firmly placed in the "Love" category.

The story is standard slash fare: A group of college friends are invited to the island estate of Muffy St. John (Deborah Foreman) for the weekend. Tragedy soon occurs on their journey (yes, they haven't even made their destination yet . . .) when a prank goes wrong and Buck is seriously hurt in a ferry accident.

The group watch in shock as he zooms off to the mainland, clutching his mangled face. But that's nothing copious alcohol can't solve as the friends party their troubles away. As they sit at dinner, chairs with bendy legs, drippy cups and a variety of other hilarious gags have been installed, courtesy of Muffy. The good mood begins to dissipate however, when Muffy's cousin Skip (Griffin O'Neal) and token motor-mouth Arch (Thomas F. Wilson) disappear -- of course, it could all be an elaborate prank, couldn't it? But pretty soon, Kitt (Amy Steele) has spotted a blood-splattered corpse drifting under the docks, and Nikki has fallen into a well overrun by the freshly strewn bodies of their friends. Of course, Muffy herself is also acting rather strangely: her quirky, innocent personality has shifted, and she's acting oddly, daydreaming about nothing and saying uncomfortable shit like:

Muffy: "Sometimes with the tides . . . it takes somebody all night to get here from the mainland. And even then sometimes . . . they don't make it."

It's now a case of whodunit, with the gnarled finger of suspicion pointing at the unfortunately-named Muffy. It doesn't put the friends at ease when they call the police, and they're told to "Stay away from Muffy". As the "body count" rises, and the climax draws closer, it's up to Kitt and her boyfriend, Rob (Ken Olandt) to piece together Muffy's murky past, including a twist that'll make you re-think the entire film.

Given the twist-ending, the film rises above conventional slasher films, providing something fresh and original, even if not entirely satisfying for some horror-fans. The performances by the young cast are certainly above-average, especially for such a modest budget -- Amy Steele once again makes a great protagonist, and Deborah Foreman is in turns sweet and creepy as Muffy/Buffy. The characters could have easily fallen into the stereotypes of standard horror films. Sure, there's the presence of the jock, the shy girl, the geek and the sex-kitten (of course, Deborah Goodrich embodies Nikki with enough energy and feist, adding more layers to the archetype than many of her predecessors).

Tuesday Trailer of the Week!

The Hills Have Eyes (1977)

I have a soft spot for Wes Craven's earlier work: The Last House on the Left (1972), The Hills Have Eyes (1977), A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). Heck, I even enjoyed Deadly Friend (1986) (aside from that pretty shiteous ending. Shudder). But, The Hills Have Eyes is one of my favourites: I love the ever-present theme of normal, civilised folks becoming brutal savages in the name of survival. Love it. It's possibly why I share an interest in the nature of the Final Girl. In short, Wes Craven may put his characters through hell, but he still cares for them. He still wants them to succeed (well, Last House aside . . .)

Looking through my collection, I forgot how Goddamn repetitive these old horror trailers were -- did the majority of folk living in the 70s suffer from memory loss/the inability to read? 'Cause, jeeze-oh, I think we know the film is called "The Hills Have Eyes". Bloody hell, we've only heard it half a dozen times.

PS: Watch out for the dodgy inbred cannibal wearing a great big fuckin' 70s wig! Fun!

National Novel Writing Month/ Happy Halloween!

Okay, so it transpires that November is National Novel Writing Month. And I'd never even heard of this glorious Internet-event before. Sure, I've heard of tosh like "Three Girls and a Cup" (Yes, no hyperlinkage. I may be a bore, but I'm keeping it clean and relatively shit free), and a bunch of other stuff. But no NNWM.

So, this year, I'm gonna attempt it. Yeah, I've got a gazillion other things I should be working on, but I really, really want to do this, so it's okay.

The goal is to write a 175 page novel (50, 000 words roughly), finishing before midnight on November 30th. The site also praises the crap you write -- and with a first draft, rest assured, you shall write crap. By the bucketful. But, as I previously stated, the crap is praised, and you get to join hands with other NNWM-ers in unity, knowing you've persevered. You also get a groovy certificate. Thus you need no other incentive. So, do it! Be my NNWM pal!

Also, hope everyone had a nice Halloween! Here's a couple of pictures from my second night dressed up as some skanky vamp (I'm the gimp on the right). Had an awesome night. First night we went on some ghost tour up near our local canal (that seems to be where our history is located . . . or something), and I had to walk around the woods drunk, with my white dressed tucked into my knee-high boots. Otherwise I'd be tripping around the joint. Not pretty or ladylike.

My vampire teeth look crappish here, but they were actually VERY cool. And sturdy. I know because I once bit Chris with them on -- he totally insisted, and I was like; "No . . . no! Okay!" Also, you can't see my tattoos/scratch marks, but they were also cool. My friend (to the left) was dressed as Sweeny Todd, but most folk thought he was a Butler. On account of this, I clicked my fingers and told him to get me a nice virgin. He wasn't impressed.

I want . . .

I want an Elvira statue. Yes, I do. I'm not really the kinda girl that's into collecting figurines (I know, shock horror . . .), but I really, really like this. Does this desire justify an entire blog post? Eh, feck yes! The statue pleases me, but sadly, the price-tag does not




Also, why is this the only decent close-up available? I'm not a demanding person, but I think we can do better than the standard cleavage shots. Especially if I'm gonna fork over my hard-earned cash. On a related note, I found £10 on the street today. I felt really guilty for picking it up, and started chatting to some old woman nearby, and asked if she'd seen anyone who'd dropped it. She told me to pocket it. That's right. She told me to pocket it: "There's nuthing ye can do, hen". I was torn, I tell you: I normally give money I find to charity, but alas there was none nearby (I know cause I searched), so I took the old woman's advice. There endeth my tale.

Movie Review: Vampire Diary

Vampire Diary (2007)

Dir. Mark James & Phil O'Shea

I hadn't heard about Vampire Diary until I'd read the review in the September issue of Fangoria. They'd proudly declared the film "Video of the Month", and given the review a nice, distinctive border -- dividing it from such tosh like Dracula's Guest and Hybrid (a tale of some poor sap, who during a transplant, has been given the eyes of a wolf --yes, really). Make no mistake, Vampire Diary may differ in quality, but it's low budget practically screams from the word go. For example: most of the sequences outside of the grimy, London clubs were filmed in one of the Director's apartments. Although a rather cramped environment, this provides the film with a greater sense of intimacy, focusing on the characters as opposed to details in the background. Even when our characters are on the run, and there is a City-wide search for them, all we hear is sirens and flickering news footage. It detaches the meager cast from the rest of the world, making their status as outcasts even more plausible.

The plot is another "found footage" affair, stemming from a sub genre which includes horror classic, The Blair Witch Project (1999), George Romero's Diary of the Dead (2007), Cloverfield (2008), [REC] (2007), and The Zombie Diaries (2006). Where the forgotten footage sub genre was rather fresh in the late 90s, it's now feeling a little bit stale, earning its own set of cliches. However, Vampire Diary does succeed in bringing new ideas to the fold -- a marvellous thing too, given the small production values. The story in question unfolds through the camera lens of Holly (the wonderfully Scottish-sounding Morven Macbeth), a young film maker who's producing a documentary on "weekend vampires"-- a cult of Goths who prance around London, dressed-up as vampires, complete with fangs. They're known as The Kindred, and they're a friendly bunch:

Holly is unfazed, but one night, when she is taping her particular band of subjects, she notices another vampy-looking woman filming her. Vicki (Hellboy II's Anna Walton) is a blood sucker with a difference -- she lacks fangs, saunters around in the daylight and kills her victims using a bolt-gun before slurping their blood. She also doesn't sleep in a coffin, which is lucky for Holly as Vicki is soon sharing her bed. But, Holly isn't aware of her girlfriend's origins until members of the Goth clique start dying, and Vicki-the-vampire confesses, showing her footage of the killings. Holly is horrified, but searches for new ways for Vicki to control her blood lust. In one sequence they try to rob a blood bank, only to appear in the news for their efforts. Their situation, however, is further complicated as the police draw closer, and Vicki reveals she is pregnant with a vampire baby.

The presentation of the vampire as a possible serial killer has been done before --most notably perhaps, in George Romero's fantastic Martin (1977), which also blurs the boundaries of psychological drama and disturbing horror -- is Martin a vampire or just really fucked-up? The debate regarding Vicki's vampirism is handled much the same, and is played about through out the film. The debate itself has even divided Writer/co-Director Phil O'Shea, Mark James and Producer Michael Riley. Taken from Fangoria #276:

"I'm never in any doubt that she is," says O'Shea unequivocally -- and as scriptwriter, ought to know. "One thing that concerned me was that if we made the film and transpired that she was not a vampire, horror audiences might feel a bit disappointed and let down." But Riley disagrees: "In my opinion, she is not a vampire. She shows how a smart, intelligent, sexy woman can manipulate people into thinking certain things. And she gets away with it. There's nothing, as far as I'm concerned, in the film that says absolutely, unequivocally that she's a supernatural monster. What she does is totally physical." That leaves James . . . "We always liked the idea of playing with the question of whether she is or not, and wanting to leave it open . . . You have to make your own mind up. I don't think I can really say."

Vampire Diary successfully avoids the pitfalls of the lesbian vampire sub genre -- this isn't an exploitation film, glorifying nudity or gore (even though there is plenty of each). It's more of a drama, a character study -- the idea that we're witnessing everything through the lens of Holly and Vicky's camera makes scenes travel at a choppy, comic book-like speed, disrupting the overall pace of the narrative. Although this may seem a bit disorientating, it provides a wider insight into the nature of Vicky and Holly's relationship -- we see their highs, and their lows -- their fights and make-up sex. Walton and Macbeth both play their parts beautifully -- Vicki is given enough vulnerability to underline her savage tendencies, whilst displaying a life-long sense of loneliness, and Holly's pushy edge dissolves as she does everything to protect her lover, and feed her.

Aside from this, Vampire Diary isn't without it's faults -- there's the usual quibbles and inconsistencies when it comes to documentary-style films: are the characters really that obsessed in film making? Oh, that's convenient, there's an ideal camera ledge right above their bath tub . . .There acting ability also varies when it comes to the co-stars, and the music is often rather intrusive -- but I guess it comes with the territory of such a film. Of course, these are minor, and it's easier to commend the film, especially given its tight budget. Vampire Diary may not be astounding film making, and it's not for everyone, but it's unique in its own twisted way, and you could do a whole lot worse than check this little film out.

Blog posts have benefits

Yeah, so on Thursday I was drowning my sorrows . . .

No, I didn't flunk a class (this time/yet), but it was my birthday. Yup, a whole other year older, and just as fuckin' stupid. And no, I'm not telling you my birthday -- and don't let the Myspace fool ya. I'm as stealthy as a ninja. A rather drunken ninja. Okay, maybe just drunken? Anyway, I'm a lady; I'm not divulging such details. However, at this rate, if I'm lucky, I'll end up as the slightly eccentric member of this bunch:

If I'm not lucky, then I'll end up like this:

Or slightly worse (heck, at least I'll have good teeth):

Anyway, the best part about birthdays is the presents -- eh, I mean the family together-ness. Obviously. Remember when I made this post, like back in the day? Well, I got what I asked for. Which just goes to show you: writing blogs does have it's perks. And if you have a lack of dignity/self respect (like I do), you too can get what you ask *cough* beg *cough* for.

Oh, and I also got the Hammer Horror boxset, which is just uber amazing. A perfect introduction to old-school British horror. If yer interested . . .

Trailer of the Week: The Haunting (1963)

"It was an evil house in the beginning -- a house that was born bad."

I know it sounds slightly ridiculous, but that's always the line of dialogue that resurfaces from my memory when I think of The Haunting. To say that it made an impression on me in my youth would be an understatement: I think it's the definitive ghost story. Sure, there's no gore and very little violence -- heck, there isn't even the obvious appearance of a malicious creature, but Director Robert Wise (whose horror credentials also include Curse of the Cat People and The Body Snatcher in the 1940s) has used other means to create a classic, psychological horror film. What's scary is simple: it's the unseen -- the tension that mounts, the noises and the strange, unexplainable occurrences. Just watch the films opening scene, which details the gruesome back story to Hill House, and the deaths of its previous occupants. It creates a mounting sense of dread through out The Haunting.

You know, I guess I've put myself in the mood for watching this ghost story again.