Vay-Slay-tion...eh, it's vacation; I can't be bothered to make a clever title

There are a lot of options when it comes to choosing a vacation plan. Too bad most are simply one-way tickets taking you straight into horror movie hell. 

Examine:

Cabin In the Woods

Sometimes you just want to get away from it all, snuggle into a flannel and tap into your inner woodsy hermit. Too bad this usually ends in zombification, skin-rotting disease, sexual abuse via forestry or genital mutilation. What, you think Evil Dead, Cabin Fever, and Lars Von Trier's Antichrist are exceptions to the rule?

Athletic Excursions

Most of us prefer to exercise our alcohol tolerance during a vacation, but there are the bizarre few who escape to foreign lands in order to best be active. Serves these physical overachievers right for encountering such horrors. Robert Fuest's 1970 chiller, And Soon the Darkness, follows two fit young women exploring the French countryside via bicycle, working their legs so much that it becomes impossible to run away from the mysterious menace hunting their ten-speed path. Similarly, the kickass girl group at the center of The Descent could be enjoying leisure tours of the Appalachian Mountains, but sadly, the only thing they learned from Deliverance was that a sleeveless red leather jacket looks good in the wilderness.

Snowy Escape

If you're like me, you see the sweltering heat of summer as a preview of hell, making a winter getaway in June as close as you'll come to the pearly gates. It makes perfect sense for the Norwegian med students to snowmobile their way through Dead Snow while on a school break; it's just a shame their drinking games get interrupted by Nazi zombies. Things could be worse. They could be fighting their own flesh and blood, much like the ill-fated parents of The Children, another winter-break horror that ends in doom.

Island Adventure

Because you know how much directors like the contrast of blood on snow, you wise up and hit the sand somewhere safe where no real-life horror can ever find you. Of course what you get instead is generally a supernatural menace thirsting for your suntanned flesh. Look to Lucio Fulci’s Zombie for a pair of innocent (just slightly nude) scuba divers thrown into an undead infested Caribbean paradise. And no, don’t assume you’re safe just because you already survived a harrowing horror movie fate. Poor Sheriff Tiler has to rebattle the titular Jack Frost in the 2000 sequel to the world’s greatest film about a killer snowman. Yes, there’s a killer snowman in the tropics. Don’t think too hard. You’re on vacation.

Cruisin

As long as you’re immune to seasickness, why wouldn’t you hop on board a cruise ship? Live music, shuffleboard, and daily all-you-can-eat buffet trips...What’s the catch? Nothing really. Just the minor inconvenience of being stalked and slaughtered by a tall dude with a machete (if, of course, you’re referring to the first 3/4 of Jason Takes Manhattan). Rather keep your itinerary in your own hands? It’s hardly safer, at least if you’re weak to the charms of Billy Zane (and who isn’t?). That’s the lesson learned by Sam Neill and Nicole Kidman in 1989’s Dead Calm, and unless you plan on having sex with a psychopath and aiming a bow and arrow at your beloved pooch, I advise you observe it carefully.

Road Trip Fun

See America the way Henry Ford intended with a cross-country road trip accompanied by hours of I Spy. One can only cycle through 99 Bottles of Beer On the Wall so many times before the  need for a new adventure rises, at which point there are plenty of inbred cannibals (Wrong Turn), possessed mannequins (Tourist Trap) and dysfunctional psychotic families (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) waiting to make your vacation a little more memorable.

Welcome to Reboots, Bitch

There are three reasons why the Nightmare On Elm Street franchise has always been superior to Friday the 13th.

1. Freddy Krueger was morally monstrous, a mean-spirited killer (and by most estimations, child molester) who targeted kids and teens simply because they were tempting and vulnerable, not, as Jason did, due to their sexual promiscuity or employment with summer camps. This was a cruel and sadistic man who took pleasure in exploiting the fears of nice enough kids who, for the most part, would rather be doing productive things (like playing Dungeons & Dragons or pumping iron) to having unchaperoned sex parties or playing strip poker.

1. With exceptions, the teens-in-peril of the series had some sort of defining characteristic that may not necessarily have made them three-dimensional Oscar contenders, but always gave the audience some kind of soft spot to stake their sympathies inside. The titular Dream Warriors of fan favorite Part 3 are stereotypes (junkie, wheelchair kid, puppet master...everybody knew a puppet master in high school, yes?), but they’re affectionately drawn stereotypes that mostly inhabit their characters with gusto that pays off...just not always in their favor. Knowing Taryn is a recovering heroin addict makes watching her get impaled by Freddy’s needle fingers all the more horrifying and sad.

1. Jack Bauer be damned, everyone must sleep. It’s inevitable. At the same time, you have no control over what films will play on the nightly screenings that are your dreams. The very idea that the one you hate more than anything will be on constant loop is terrifying (Sex and the City: The Movie? Noooooo! Then again, it could be worse...)

Now. I bring these points up in preparation for what I assume will be an instant defense of why...

hold your breath...

I liked this remake

(ducks)

Quick disclaimer: I didn’t looooove this movie or want to instantly cuddle with it, a la The Fly ’86 or Dawn of the Dead ’04 (although to be fair, the latter is more of a wham-bam-thank-you-til-next-time tangle in the sheets than serious affair). But hey. I had a good time. A few SPOILER-y reasons why:

1. Freddy is an asshole

A twisted and sexual deviant who plays with his victims’ pain until the very last second (sometimes 6 minutes after it’s over, at least for poor TV John Connor). Now as much as I love Jackie Earle Haley, I’ll concede that it wasn’t his performance that sold me on Freddy 2.0 (and trust me: it also wasn’t in any way the makeup design, which resembled a roasted marshmallow burnt over a penis). What I liked about this villain was--and I’m a little shocked by this--his backstory as a perverted and deliberate sadist. The development of who Krueger was in his lifetime and how that damaged these kids--plus the convenient explanation of why he was hidden and what buried memories brought him back--worked for me, even if it had a touch of Law & Order: SVU sprinkled in the mix.

2. Tired, so tired

Laugh at Not Johnny Depp’s Googl--er, Gigablasting of “sleep deprivation” all you want (I did), but also concede that the foreshadowing, albeit clunky and typical, actually paid off. Past films in the Nightmare series often featured dreaded microsleeps, but the remake does a surprisingly decent job of planting the knowledge--both of dozing off and, far more frightening, slipping into an actual coma--to create a more specific danger zone for the kids.

3. Imagining, Re

I’m sure many an ‘80s kid is twirling his or her scrunchie in anger over the fact that Not Johnny Depp didn’t have a date with Death Bed: The Bed That Regurgitates or how Nancy’s perfect chestnut locks never drew a gray streak. Amazingly enough, these are rarely the same .0003% of the population who celebrated Gus Van Sant’s Psycho. A Nightmare On Elm Street wasn’t the best reinterpretation of subject matter that I’ve seen, but I appreciated how it handled some of its winks and nods to Wes Craven’s original. Chris (aka Not Tina)’s bed death was mean in a different way from the slice ‘n dice horror of the original, but why not? If I wanted to see the same shot-for-shot tear-her-up murder, I’d put on my DVD. I appreciated the references, as opposed to craving redo-s.

I’m not going to dip Samuel Bayer’s A Nightmare On Elm Street in dark chocolate and savor each bite with milk. This was by no means a great film or even in the top tier of remakes, but I enjoyed a lot about this movie. Sure, the characters had little spark, the murders lacked ingenuity, and CGI was abused worse than Stephen Hawking, but there was also some new storytelling to be found in a series that had been in rather stale hibernation for some time. 

Isn’t that what a ‘reboot’ is supposed to do?

Onto more important matters:

Can we please talk about the positively bizarre trailer for Beastly, projected future entry in the Deadly Doll House’s Horrible Non-Horror! Although it might be horror. Or rom-com. Or high school dramedy. Or superhero saga. Or revenge tale. 

I. Don't. Know.

Maybe Neil Patrick Harris, who actually suppresses a vomit in the preview, can better explain. Perhaps we can trust whichever Olsen twin it is playing a hobo sorceress to point us in the right direction. Either way, this is bound to be one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life, and I met two Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz.

Space: The Jan Brady of Earth Day

Oh Earth Day huh? Guess what-I LIVE on the earth. Every day.

What about Mars? Jupiter? Naboo? Or those shiny high-tech ships floating in between? 

In honor of all those masses of matter not acknowledged by 24 hours in spring, I give you a few choice options for genre films not bound to the third planet from the...

Sunshine

Danny Boyle’s true masterpiece, a polarizing mashup of 2001 and Halloween, is a visual vacation that poses rich questions about science, faith, morality, and just how powerful a fantastic musical score can be. Straight sci-fi fans typically rip on the Event Horizon-ish final act, but it’s a natural extension of the sun-as-false-god themes that begin the opening scene. Then again, since the main plot surrounds saving a certain water-based planet, perhaps this film doesn’t belong on the list at all.

Starship Troopers

There aren't really enough words in the English language that properly express the joy that can be found in Paul Verhoeven's original 1997 satirical sci-fi thriller, so it's fitting that most of the film takes place in another galaxy (where I'm sure another mother tongue can add to the vocabulary). Based on this series (originally envisioned by controversial-lite Robert Heinlein) of great gore, 90210esque romance, and cutting satire, Earth may be a far prettier planet than what’s found in the outer ring, but it’s also filled with fascism, genocidal militarism, and Denise Richards. I’ll take the bug planet.

Jason X

Fans of the franchise are deeply divided over the tenth outing of Mr. Voorhess, set 450 years in the future and filmed on the cheap in Canada (not quite as exotic as space, but with better pancakes). Personally, I can't get enough of a face-dunk into liquid nitrogen, a David Cronenberg cameo, tight-in-all-the-wrong-places space uniforms (for the ladies only, natch) and the general spirit of low rent cheese dripping off every bargain priced reel. 

Alien(s)

The grandfather (well, more appropriately, grandmother) of modern sci-fi horror, the first two films from this franchise make a fine case for moving off-planet, if only to experience better movies.

Event Horizon

This surprisingly atmospheric debut of Paul “Not Thomas” Anderson, Event Horizon mixed the cold space castaway mood of Alien with a good old fashioned Nightmare on Elm Street dreamy slasher batter. Infamously edited by a baffled studio, Event Horizon has survived twelve years as a mini-fan favorite, a bloody sci-fi that plays with wormholes, hell, and gravity. Memorable moments include Jack Noseworthy’s nose worthy nosebleed and glimpses of carnal orgies not quite touched upon in Apollo 13. Ever wonder why you didn’t get that Oscar, Ron Howard?

Moon

Much like Sunshine, Duncan Bowie’s 2009 film doesn’t really have a home base in any strict genre. As a scientific premise mixed with horrific possibilities and striking moral drama, Moon tells the tale of an astronaut (played insanely well by Sam Rockwell) living alone 239,592 miles from earth (who needs it). To say more borders on immediate spoiler territory, but for lunar cinema that disturbs on an intelligent (and very human) level, head to the Moon. 

Leprechaun 4: In Space

Somewhat inevitable and sadly disappointing, this fourth entry into the Leprechaun saga never quite finds its inner chest burster. Still, you can’t go totally wrong with the spirit of Warwick Davis being transferred through urine and er, other bodily fluids, especially when light sabers are involved. 

Let the Sunshine In. Then Die.

Daylight Savings is a cruel calendar trick and a reason to distrust farmers, but we can be thankful for  one thing: sunshine. Bright, warm, orange hued illumination a whole 60 minutes ahead of schedule.

As I walked home this week and actually saw things, I started thinking about the effectiveness of daylight and its underuse in horror. Sure, there’s some primal fear and easy camera tricks to harvest in midnight cinema, but today, let’s take a look at films not afraid to let the sunshine in.

In rough chronological order:

1. The Wicker Man

Some of the earlier eeriness occurs in that sexy witching hour, when snails cuddle and Britt Ekland’s body double booty shakes, but Robin Hardy’s 1974 classic enigma truly comes to pagan life in its last terrifying act set during a beautiful fall early afternoon (well it starts in the morning, but those choral parades take forever). With the bright glare sometimes forcing you to look away, the film bypasses any of the tricks of night vision, letting all the weirdness of bunny masks, pancake makeup, and group singing hang out in full view. When (SPOILER ALERT) Sergeant Howie screams his final hymn from a blazing, goats a’fire filled sacrificial structure, the glory of the natural sun shines straight through to the audience.

2. I Spit On Your Grave

Brutal gang rape is horrifying any time of day, but this 1978 shocker is made all the worse by its fully lit cruelty. Filmmaker Meir Zarchi doesn't shy away from showing you the horrors experienced by lead Camille Keaton, filming her pale body with a matter-of-fact detachment that simply lets the crime speak for itself.

3. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Spanning dusk to dawn, Tobe Hooper’s classic set the bar for all-out backwoods psychohorror. The introduction of Leatherface--silent, husky, and full of gutty grime--is shocking not just because of his untamed violence, but also due to the sudden appearance of such a grotesque human in full light. It’s fitting then that TCM ends on such a memorable, sun-lit shot as our chainsaw-wielding madman swings his roaring sword across a slowly waking Texas morning landscape.

4. Jaws

Quint’s account of the USS Indianapolis may be told in haunting shadow, but his lower half gets crunched on what may otherwise be a perfect July beach morning. 

5. The Brood

Generally, kindergarten days begin with the Pledge of Allegiance and one kid vomiting in the morning circle, but leave it to David Cronenberg to capture a different sort of start to alphabet games and adding practice. This 1979 chiller features many fine sequences, but it’s the schoolteacher slaughter that truly horrifies anybody with a pulse. A sunny winter morning turns exceedingly bloody as two evil gnomish creatures bludgeon Ms. Mayer with kiddie tools...right in front of a classroom full of 6 year olds. Time for milk and cookies yet?

6. Friday the 13th

A good deal of this series benefits from those summer days, fitting when the entire concept is based on camping. Since we already know what Jason Voohres looks like by Part III, there’s really no more point in hiding his face in the nighttime shadows (something the misguided remake didn’t seem to understand). All this sunny machete action began in its ‘80s glory with the initial film, where several counselors met their end before they got the chance to put on their pajamas. More notably, the 1980 hallmark of dead teenager movies ends with one of the best jump scares in horror history, when final girl Alice survives into the early morning, only to get a terrifying wake-up call with a dozen and counting sequel potential.

7. The Burning

Yes, George Costanza himself--with hair--handing out condoms to camp counselors intent on seducing underage high schoolers is reason enough see this not-so-good 1981 slasher, but the real highlight is a raft massacre of a dozen kid campers via sharp, rusty garden shears. A great scene of gruesome cruelty and refreshingly timed for all to see.

8. Day of the Dead

Not the best Romero installment by any means (or at least, mine), but it’s hard to argue with those opening five minutes, where scabby, rotting zombies shuffle through an abandoned Florida street on what could otherwise be a fine day for a jog.

9. The Devil’s Rejects

The perfect flip side to the rave-colored black-lit House of 1000 Corpses (look close enough and I’m sure you’ll find some velvety neon posters of wizards hanging on Dr. Satan's walls), Rob Zombie’s matured throwback followup is dripping with the sweaty grime from a hot southern sun. From the daytime hotel massacre and truck scramble to the slow-motion Freebird finale, The Devil’s Rejects makes you feel the heat, one stabbed banjoist at a time.

10. Dawn of the Dead

Zach Snyder's surprisingly spry reimagining of zombies gone shopping smartly avoids the better-in-the-dark style of so many other modern films by opening and closing with two beautifully spring-like sunny days...that just happen to include Olympian trained sprinting undead. Before Johnny Cash's Man Comes Around or Ving Rhames' cool rears its shiny bald head, Dawn of the Dead starts so innocently in a bland, postcard worthy suburb of middle America before waking up the next day to neighborhood shootouts and helicopter crashes. It's fitting that the film ends at its titular time of day as our survivors make their way to a new--probably very short--life sailing a yacht on what would otherwise be an expensive mini vacation.

11. All the Boys Love Mandy Lane

Sure, the bulk of this still unjustly unreleased slasher takes place overnight on a blood-soaked ranch, but its grand finale gets the hot desert morning treatment, making its stunning twist all the more jarring. See it to believe it...when it actually gets legally put into theaters.

12. The Strangers

While the majority of this unofficial Ils remake occurs in the quiet midnight hours, the real horror is saved for sunrise. To avoid spoiling a fairly recent film, I’ll tread softer than the barely audible whispering of star Liv Tyler and simply say that in this surprisingly vicious minimalist slasher, the terror doesn’t end just because it’s time for waffles.

13. 28 Weeks Later

Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later offered a few effective AM shots, but it’s Juan Carlos Fresnadillo’s underrated sequel that takes full advantage of the rare British sun with one of the most terrifying opening sequences of recent years. There’s a reason you have to seal yourself indoors in the event of an infected cannibal rampage, and all it takes is one open eyehole to let the chaos destroy any safety you’ve built with fellow survivors. Watching a horde of infected chase after Robert Carlyle, operatic classical music playing maniacally in the background, is enough to make you turn out the lights.

14. The Ruins

Most vacationing college students traveling to Central America want nothing more than to surround themselves with hot people and work on their tans, but that gets taken a little too far in this 2008 adaptation of Scott Smith’s novel. Five fresh-faced young folks find themselves trapped on a mysterious Mayan structure, battling the threat of homicidal vines and--cue the sound cue--each other. While the film’s screaming plants lurk inside darkened caves, most of the more disturbing action occurs under the dry, scorching sun to ill-prepared twentysomethings running low on water and high on tequila. Nearly everything is fully visible, and all of it horrific in a way rarely seen in your typical pretty-people-in-trouble flicks of the 21st century.

15. Carriers

Highly contagious disease is ravaging its way through America--and presumably, the world--but you’d never know it if you just glanced out your window. The gorgeous weather offers an intriguing contrast to the increasingly tense atmosphere of this 2009 thriller as humans die off and plague erodes the line between morality and survival. There’s something disturbing, and yet perfectly fine about nature’s continuance in the face of human obliteration, and Carriers captures it with sunshine to spare.

and a few Honorable Mentions via some fine folks on Twitter

Cabin Fever

The Crazies

Drag Me to Hell

Let the Right One In

Martyrs

Picnic At Hanging Rock

Rosemary’s Baby

plus & Recommendations I Haven’t Seen:

And Soon the Darkness

The Children

Curtains

Dead Snow

Michael's Monster Mash

I bet you must think I love Halloween. 

You don't know me.

364 days of the year, I'm a normal guy. A little quiet. Kinda tall. But on the whole, not much different from your average former mental patient bearing a slight resemblance to William Shatner.

I’m cool with that. If I had wanted to be famous, I would’ve done a reality show, not gone head-to-head with Mickey Rourke to see which beefy thespian could sabotage his career with worse script choices. There’s a reason I didn’t do Halloween III: no way was I gonna share the stage with Tom Atkins. That dude elevates every performance around him and before you could’ve said silver shamrock, I’d be a red carpet fixture.

I don’t need that.\n\nYet here we are again. It’s October 30th, and like any supervillain with a franchise to his name, I gotta go to work. It's tiring. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. Sure, it doesn't look like I run fast, but if you saw my frenemy Leslie' Vernon's self-indulgent documentary (more on that douche later), you'd know that it takes both physical agility and self-discipline to take such long strides while still looking like we're just strolling down the street with time to kill. I didn't even get to the blood stains, bullet wounds, or fact that I've never ever had the chance to just wind down with some leftover fun-sized Milky Ways and enjoy Charlie Brown's misadventures.\n\nIn a way, I totally know how Santa Clause feels. Except I’ve never tasted a butter cookie with green sprinkles.\n\nSo this year, I decided to do something different. It helped that I planned ahead and got my killing spree out of the way in August. Some may say it's not the same, but my mom seemed to approve. She even got me a pony, and that’s just super awesome to the extreme. Besides: my psychiatrist keeps bugging me about getting out of my shell or self-imposed blackness or whatever, so I wanted to show him that I'm not as unresponsive as he thinks. Then he died. For like, the eighth time. So now I have no ascot to prove anything to but guess what? I already sent out the invites.\n\nGruuuuuuuuuuunt. First of all, this might surprise you, but I don't...well...I don't have many friends. I go to bars and just sort of blend into the dark lighting, plus I’m straight edge which just adds pressure. I'm not into sports cause they're a little too competitive. I tried Craig's List "strictly platonic" ads but I didn't trust the purity of the posters and, well, a few complaints, lawsuits, and mangled bodies and now I'm banned from that entire site. I was on Facebook for a while but it just felt like everyone there was putting on a front. I was about to give up when this great new invention called Twitter came around. I like it cause I don't write good (as I always say, spell check is the greatest thing since sliced necks) and with just 140 letters (someone told me they were "characters" but I've never heard of that word before), it's hard to mess up too badly. \n\nI won’t lie: it’s pretty darn confusing. I'm not too computer savvy, so I just usually "follow" whoever "follows" me. This was really weird at first. I'm so used to doing the stalking, I didn’t quite realize what all the lingo meant. Stabbed a lot of girls named Brit.ney and learned a valuable lesson about how women never look as good as they do on the Internet. Also how women on the Internet are not usually women in real life. \n\nAnyway, once I realized that Twitter was a great forum to collect identities and send out news, I posted an invite for my Monster Mash Halloween Party. \n\nThis is really hard to say--and not just because I don’t usually use words--but I’m actually super nervous about tomorrow night. I can strangle any old class clown, but when it comes to social events, I’m about as smooth as Leatherface’s chainsaw. \n\nSpeaking of which...he’s totally coming. I know this not because he RSVP’d, but because every ten minutes since the e-vite left my outbox, he’s been calling me with a million questions. What’s the dress code? What’s the face code? Will there be chili? It’s like the dude’s never been to a party before. I mean, sure I’ve never been invited to a high school dance or parents-away kegger, but like any slasher, I’ve crashed enough to take some notes. \n\nSad thing is, he’s not even the worst one. I told Tiffany and Chucky Lee Ray it’s okay to bring their son, but apparently there’s all sorts of family drama there. I need to know if I should cancel the clown. According to his website, Pennywise doesn’t refund deposits the day of and I already have bad credit. \n\nJason won’t come if Freddy comes, Freddy won’t come if Jason comes, Norman’s waiting for permission from his mother, and Kang and Kodos are trying to get me to foot their galactic toll bills. I stupidly promised the Crypt Keeper that he could be in charge of the music, but Leslie’s totally convinced the old corpse is just trying to get control of the microphone to try out some of his comedy material. \n\nI can handle pressure okay, and I wouldn’t really be complaining about all of this if there wasn’t one guest that I’m actually excited to see. Now I know I shouldn’t jinx a good thing, but I really like her. She’s totally my type: skinny, shy, studious, virginal, non gender specific named, and best of all, she totally knows what it’s like to have superpowers that don’t match up with social skills. It’s a match made in heaven, except for the fact that she’s convinced she’s going to hell and well, to be honest, she might be out of my league. I know Jamie Lee was prom queen material, but that wasn’t until after I broke her in. Carrie’s a genuine princess and I’m just a lump in a jumpsuit. Worst of all, Leslie’s been eyeing her for months now and he’s way slicker than I could ever dream of being. Not that I dream. You have to sleep first.\n\nWell, I should stop dilly dallying and start decorating for the big night. Party City had a sale on those Halloween Christmas lights and I bullied some babysitters into carving pumpkins, so I think that on that front, I'll be in good shape. Or a good Shape. Ha! I am ON! \n\nAs for the party, you’ll have to come back next week to find out how it turned out. Any advice would be totally appreciated below. Like, for example, trick-or-treaters who don’t wear costumes. I’m supposed to kill them, right? \n\nHelp me out guys. I reallllllllly don’t want to embarrass myself in front of so many of my peers. They already have me slumming in 3-D next year. How much lower can I go?\n\n

Fangoria Friday

Kane Hodder=Rock Star





The taller man is Jason VII-X's slightly larger brother, who seems equally awesome. Framed between is my lovely friend Erica, who wow'd the Bros. Voohrees with her eyes. I'm the squished little head on the right being lovingly squeezed by an arm that has once crunched through many a promiscuous teen.


Other events of note: buying too many movies (including, finally, the 2-disc Battle Royale (although the salesman didn't know if there was a question mark following the death of a certain female character, so I'm hoping I got the non-terribly subtitled version), a few movie posters (The Ewok Adventure II: The Battle For Endor--in Italian!!!), and some random gifts for those parts of the family that might appreciate them. I don't know if Fango is bigger in other locations, but the NYC Javitz Center was so large that it felt a tad empty. In a way, this made mingling a little easier, although I do feel for Guillermo Del Toro speaking to a quarter-filled room way too early on a Friday night. A few Last House on the Left cast members gave an enjoyable panel and Tom Savini did his usual moody Saviniscious convention kick (which involved playfully messing a little with Hodder's table then scooting away when a fan had to reload his camera).


I chatted a little with the lovely Robin Sherwood of Tourist Trap, the vocal George Kosana and John Russo, who both had their Night of the Living Dead trivia to impart (Kosana was quite insistent about taking credit for improvising Night's most famous line, "They're dead, they're all messed up"), and filmmaker David Gregory, whose new film Plague Town, will be reviewed here shortly.


The biggest tragedy of the weekend? I won't get to see Jack Ketchum's panel on Offspring due to other commitments. Should my cable guy come early on Sunday and not drag me to a drumstick feast at Medieval Times, I may flirt with the idea of a Sunday visit, but that's looking less and less likely (the Fangoria part; I'm still holding out for a Jim Carrey-esque adventure with Cablevision's installation crew). I do urge anyone in the area to check it out. Tickets are $20, and the floor was loose enough that you could wander and chat with a few notable names without feeling compelled to fork out another $20 for an autograph.


And if you do find your way to the way too clean basement on the West Side of Manhattan, tell Mr. & Mr. Hodder that the ladies with firm handshakes say hey. But do it in a sexy voice.