I Said Brrrrr! It's Cold In Here. There Must Be Some Chiller Theatre In the Atmosphere

No, I shouldn't even try a fake cheer. Just know that this past weekend was the biannual Chiller Theatre Convention in New Jersey so naturally, I put on my best pair of sneakers to troll crowded vendor floors and tiptoe around celebrities I wanted to ogle without paying.


This installment was by far one of my favorite experiences, and only part of that involved the toasted coconut pancakes eaten twenty minutes before entering the elegant halls of the Parsippany Hilton. Highlights, plain and simple:

1. Telling Ruggero Deodato that I loved The Barbarians, and hearing his enthusiastic response that the film is finally going to be available on DVD in the near future. Also, I think I referred to Cannibal Holocaust as "beautiful." Thankfully, he did not respond by offering me turtle meat.

2. Telling his table buddy Sergio Martino that I loved Hands of Steel  (I'm sure he gets that ALL the time) and finding out that his next film is supposed to shoot somewhere in Pennsylvania. For some reason, that disturbed me.

3. Buying these:

One of which stars a wrestler from G.L.O.W. (Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, for those uninformed), one of which is post-apocalyptic and involves rollerskating, and finally, a film I can't believe I didn't know existed, The Refrigerator, something I'm sure will put Death Bed: The Bed That Eats to the napping hall of shame.


4. Having a strange interaction with Lou Ferrigno (at the urging of Dear Friends Erica and Lisa) where we got a Polaroid photo (taken by a stranger just wandering the room) with the Hulk then spent about 20 minutes trying to decipher what he actually signed. Theories include "Lou the Hulk," "Love the Hulk," "Lou something Hulk," and "Lou Diamond Philips." Either way, I got to tell him that I loved his work in ...And God Spoke, and he smiled.

5. The highlight, by far:

Now obviously, Killer Klowns From Outer Space is in the treasure chest here at the Doll's House so the idea of meeting Grant Cramer (aka Mike Tobacco) evoked all sorts of inner swoons. What really creamed my pie, however, was how gosh darn nice a dude he was. This was apparently Mr. Cramer's first convention outing, and he seemed to be having an enjoyable time, or at least he tolerated my gushing, theorizing, and explanation of why Killer Klowns and The Happening should never share the same sentence. Best of all, my head nearly exploded when I learned that the Chiodo Brothers and Mr. Cramer have been developing a--hold your breath--SEQUEL to what is, quite simply, the definitive cult film of my generation. It seems a ways off but something that actually may indeed hopefully maybe yes indeed I hope I said I hope will get made someday. Sadly, it's not based on my idea for Klowns In Space , but hey, after 22 and counting years, I'll take anything.

So that was my lovely Sunday, capped by the debut recording of a lil cupcake called the gleeKast . Looking forward, I now order you to mark your calendars for the August 20-22, when Monster Mania mashes into Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and I attempt to befriend special guest Tim Curry via my own reenactment of the entire plot of Clue.

And Now For Something Completely Different...

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The gleeKast !

No, it has nothing to do with horror movies (although I did somehow work in an Oz reference, so there's hope). Yes, it has everything to do with glee. Which makes me gleeful. 

Anyway, my dear friend Erica and I have started a podcast (or podKast, if you will) where we hope to spend an hour a week rambling on about the greatest thing to ever combine high school politics, obsessive compulsive disorder, wheelchairs, pregnant cheerleaders, and jazz hands. The audio is a little patchy and the content a tad overenthusiastic (i.e., I was tragically born without an indoor voice) and yes, there are a whole lot of podcasts out there already that you should be listening to, but glee/me/musical-ee fans should still head to gleekast.podomatic.com to hear our maiden voyage into the podosphere. 

Because, ya know...we crave some approval.

And will do whatever it takes to get it.

Pimp Dolly

Some movies try awfully hard to just be awful. It's not enough, they say, to have a dwarf henchman; they go one step further by putting an eyepatch on said dwarf henchman and making him the keeper of an awful, occasionally nude girl band musicalized by electricity.

Yup. Blood Dolls is that kind of movie. 

And thus I spent 90 minutes with a film that clearly wanted nothing more than to make its audience say "That was weirrrrrrd." 

Granted, I've done this about as many times as I've brushed my teeth and sometimes, it works. In addition to hard rock and zombies, Hard Rock Zombies incorporates Nazis, self-cannibalistic dwarfs (apparently that's the go-to for ambitiously bizarre film), glorified statutory rape, and big heads, but it works due to its let's-have-fun spirit. Blood Dolls, a 1999 schlockfest from Full Moon, feels more as though writer/director/Full Moon granddaddy Charles Band patrolled a horror convention, took notes on merchandising and fashion, mixed it in a used blender still soiled with leftovers from past films, and made a movie out of it.

Quick Plot: Eccentric billionaire Virgil Travis has just lost a fortune to crooked former partners and thus his revenge scheme is about to take its bloody birth. Using a few racially stereotyped dolls shrunken down from a few former acquaintances that led to his downfall (black judge as pimp, Asian lawyer as dragon lady) and his deadpan juggalo-esque butler, the Southahn gentleman Virgil orders death by hand weight, gunshot, and tiny knife while the real instigator behind the money laundering reveals herself as the seemingly meek and good-hearted Moira, wife of Virgil's former business partner. The biggest twist comes when we first see Moira in the comfort of her home, where the dark-haired beauty proves to be a brilliant minded dominatrix feeding off the physical pain and sexual submission of daft, usually leashed hubby Harrison. 

Did I mention Virgil is eccentric? It's an important plot detail, but thankfully, you probably won't miss it due to the caged leather-clad girl rock group he keeps in his living room and stone head mask he wears over his itty Beelteguice head. Subtlety is not a selling point when it comes to Full Moon.

Blood Dolls is an exercise in forced wackiness, a sort of Leprechaun in Louisiana seasoned with the oddities of Bloodsucking Freaks (dwarf, caged women, torture, etc.). I found it tiresome and forced, but occasionally, slightly cute. Debra Mayer's role as the kinky mastermind was actually enjoyable, although it left me rooting for her simply because I couldn't respect any character who was amused by such obnoxious and bland music.

High Points

While the idea of his presence begins rather ridiculously, William Paul Burns's solemn performance as a very spiritual painted face right-hand man actually becomes funnier as the film progresses

Low Points

Even with warp speed kills, a single flimsy plot, and a dual ending, Blood Dolls stretches out its should-be-short running time to 90 minutes by adding dull rock song after dull rock song. I suppose a film has to fill out space for Sunday afternoon airings on SyFy, but Blood Dolls pads itself more obviously than a 14 year old girl at a school dance

Lessons Learned

Behind every mentally retarded man is a very kinky woman with a high IQ

There are worse things in life than being kidnapped, locked in a cage, and forced to perform bad rock music for a sadistic billionaire; you could be the sadistic billionaire who has to listen

Dwarfs carry singles

Rent/Bury/Buy

Blood Dolls will please many fans of the let's-be-as-goofy-as-we-can subgenre of horror comedy. Personally, I tend to have a rotating membership to that club, enjoying some of those films (ThanksKilling ) and hating others that just try too hard (Snakes On a Plane). I will concede that I began enjoying Blood Dolls much later in the story, when the whole "How crazy can we be?" attitude had settled and Band let his characters have their story. By the time I got to the Clue-like alternate ending, I was invested enough to smile, but perfectly pleased when it was over. That’s that. Now pass the gouda.

De-Filed!

April 16th is a day most celebrated by CPAs relieved to end the hellish tax season, but for those off-the-books employees, it's just another 24 hours of cash payments without government interference. Of course, under the table occupations come with their own drawbacks in addition to the benefits--not legal, of course--that one should always consider before biting a thumb at Uncle Sam.

But gee, how can I possibly know which unofficial careers are hazardous? Considering this is a column devoted to horror movies, do you really have to ask?

Graverobbing

As Seen In: I Sell the Dead, Repo! The Genetic Opera

Perks: Depending on the climate, the joy of working outdoors; coworkers won’t annoy you with personal calls or gum snapping

Cons: The smell of rotting flesh; the occasional zombie uprising; vicious wars with Irish street gangs; likely STDs contracted from client Paris Hilton

Babysitting

As Seen In: Halloween, House of the Devil, When a Stranger Calls, The Pit

Perks: Free reign on a stranger’s kitchen; access to cable TV; that feeling of power you can relish in dangling early bedtime over weaker beings

Cons: Becoming the target of a super efficient slasher, dealing with bratty, occasionally dirty-minded rugrats with Svengali-esque teddy bears

Handyman

As Seen In: The Beyond, The Bad Seed, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

Perks: There’s always a new task to tackle

Cons: Dealing with shoddy non-OSHA certified ladders can easily cause fatal falls over the gates of hell; Competition with other househelp can lead to legal woes; Disagreements with employers’ children never ends in your favor

Artist

As Seen In: Spiral, Fear of Clowns, The Driller Killer, The Collector (1965)

Perks: Get beautiful women to stare at you seductively in progressively less clothing each week; Host gallery openings where you can meet wealthy single men

Cons: Being stalked by topless clowns; Being kidnapped by creepy Terrence Stamp; Feeling mooched off of by your bisexual girlfriend

Prostitution

As Seen In: Peeping Tom, American Psycho, Saw II/IV,

Perks: Great for those that prefer nighttime hours; Occasional wealthy clients can yield a decent payday

Cons: The whole having-sex-with-maniacs thing doesn't always prove worth the stitches and chainsaw-caused concussions; Being locked inside dank real estate filled with poisonous gas and six other ex-cons

Thievery

As Seen In: The People Under the Stairs, Psycho

Perks: Enjoying money and pretty things that aren’t yours

Cons: Guard dogs; Twitchiness; Karma

Camp Chef

As Seen In: Sleepaway Camp

Perks: All the oatmeal you can sneak; In a world pre-Megan’s Law, it seems possible to get hired despite a clear sense of ill intentions towards kids

Cons: Nobody misses you (or your cooking) when you end up boiling in your own pot

Slavery

As Seen In: Candyman, Underworld, Broken

Perks: Zero stress wondering what to do with your time

Cons: Angry mobs; Chains can chafe 

I don't know about the rest of you, but I think I'll stick with clocking in my hours. Sure, even the most straight-laced employers can be agents of the devil, but at least they'll lead a paper trail into hell where, if you're lucky, a union rep just might bail you out. 

Why I Love: Spider Baby

I was happier than Rob Zombie at a truck stop when Final Girl ’s Stacie Ponder announced Spider Baby, or The Maddest Story Ever Told as this month’s Film Club pickaroo. To quote my original review (read here) back on Valentine's Day of aught 9:

“This is horror comedy the way it should be done. Unique and pitch-perfect performances around the board, disturbing images that tickle like a spider’s spindly legs, and cheerfully self-aware dialogue to make you giggle. If this film doesn’t make you smile, your heat is made of stone that needs to be ground and served on a platter with rabbit and fungus. Nothing personal. It just is.”

I stand by that statement with even more conviction one year later, especially as I’ve since seen Jack Hill’s quirkily brutal 1968 black comedy about four more times. I adore it because gosh darnit, it’s one of the most lovable genre films I know. My original review spouts oodles of admiration, and I’d like to build upon that here with a new installment I hope to eventually Page Widgetize called, plain and simple, Why I Love (a movie I've seen many times).

5 Reasons:

1. Lon Chaney Jr.

With a rich baritone and unfolded map of a face, Chaney’s presence is such a solid base of kind warmth. Nearing the end of his career (and life), the once famed Wolfman turns in an earnest performance that somehow reminds me of why I’ve always wanted to hug the Cowardly Lion.

2. Family Love

Sure, Virginia, Ralphie, and Elizabeth aren’t the clan you’d like to be waiting on at your Denny’s waitressing gig, but the Merryes are undeniably a loving a family through and through. Chaney’s Bruno is the guiding force, a man who has devoted his life to providing the best possible conditions for three monstrous children to spend a few years. The sisters’ devotion to Ralphie is plain adorable. Heck, even the family pets are treated with kindness and gentility (so what if they happen to be fuzzy man-eating tarantulas). 

3. Quirkiness of the ‘Normal’ Characters

It’s easy to write off Quinn Redeker and Mary Mitchel as token Marilyn Munster tropes. Clean cut and attractive, both “Uncle” Peter and Ann seem to fade behind the outright wackiness of Sid Haig’s slobbering Ralphie and Jill Banner’s naughty Virginia, but pay close attention to just how much fun both actors have with their smaller roles. Redeker’s blissful sunniness makes him the truest innocent--a feat in itself amid madness, cannibalism, and near incest. Mitchel’s Ann is rather adorable, especially when she’s imitating Universal monsters or, as most the film, absolutely drunk. 

4. Music

How the opening theme song--sung by a sly Lon Chaney Jr. himself--never made it on a  juke box beside Monster Mash is beyond me. It’s an adorably macabre, cleverly worded ditty worthy of annual Halloween replays, daily ringtones, and wedding processionals. Likewise the film’s musical score--something I never really listened for the first two viewings--is equally playful and bombastically fun.

5. Sisterly Bonds

As Virginia and Elizabeth, and Jill Banner and Beverly Washburn are simply perfect. They bicker. They tattle. They pout. Occasionally, they drop their competitive snickering in order to protect big/little brother Ralphie or sweeten themselves up to dear old Bruno. In other words, they’re sisters, for better and worse. Although the raven haired Banner and petite blond Washburn share no physical resemblance, we never doubt for one instant that Virginia and Elizabeth share the most dramatically binding of all family bonds.

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There you have it. If you still haven’t seen Spider Baby, I will be sending my minions of black widows to your home to sit you down, spin webs around you and your Laz-E Boy, and insert the wonderfully featured (including a super cheerful commentary with the rightfully proud Hill & Haig) special edition into your DVD player for immediate viewing. Once watched, be sure to head over to Final Girl and busy yourself with a roundup of other reviews that damn well better heap mountains of praise upon Spider Baby with equal fervor. Otherwise, those black widows are going off their vegetarian diet and righting what’s wrong in the world.

Paranormal ActSwimmity

Like many modern films with any morsels fit for digestion by the horror community, Lake Mungo is being marketed as a terrifying ghost story that makes The Blair Witch Project, Paranormal Activity, and The Haunting look like Casper Meets The Wiggles. The problem with that description is not that the film isn’t scary, but that Lake Mungo is of a hybrid, undefinable genre more akin to something like Jacob’s Ladder or Bug.

NOTE: Because this is a brand new release making its way through DVD and the After Dark Horrorfest, I’m instituting a self-no-spoiler policy for this review. All plot reveals and sssssecretsssss will, however, be fair game for the comments section so expect full divulgences after the jump. Until then, we'll keep it clean and pure.

You know the type.

Quick Plot: 16 year old Alice disappears while swimming with her family in suburban Australia. Months later, her seaweed-soaked body is found, prompting her family to deal with their grief in personal ways. Dad has nightmares but trudges on to work. Mom begins wandering town like a lost puppy late in the night. And brother Matty throws himself into investigating the strange appearances Alice may or may not be making in witching hour videos and backyard photography.

There’s a good chance that nothing in that plot synopsis whetted your appetite for this film. In terms of premise, Lake Mungo is a pretty plain tale inspired more by Sightings than The Sixth Sense. In no way, however, is it that simple.

Filmed in documentary style, Lake Mungo avoids the found footage format trend that makes viewers queasy. While some critics have complained that such a choice robs us of most dramatic payoff, I found the honest, straightforward narrative completely worked to make the story feel like a moving photo album missing key pages. Something has happened to this family, and their honest, baffled, and lost faces tell a sad and haunting tale.

There are dabblings with psychics and scandals, but Lake Mungo never quite goes where you expect. Critics who often complain about forced finales should be pleased with how organic Lake Mungo proves to be. There are plenty of chills generated from the more ghostly leanings, but ultimately, this is more a film about grief than gotcha! moments of shrieks.

High Points

The performances--particularly Rosie Traynor as June and David Pledger as Russell--a are believable for a documentary and layered enough to keep you intrigued. June’s introversion gives birth to a different kind of grief from Russell’s stoic false closure. Director Joel Anderson lets their pain speak for itself with no swelling moments of tears or screams, and as a result, the loss cuts even more deeply.

I was often reminded of another teenage girl disappears into Australian wilderness film, Picnic At Hanging Rock. Whether this was a direct inspiration or not, fans of Peter Weir’s 1975 ethereal genre-defying film may find some of Alice’s past comments about her future to be equally eerie.

Low Points

The main way Lake Mungo draws your attention to something amiss is to show video footage, then zoom in on the phenomena. While it’s still creepy and I’m thankful to have seen all the paranormal activity, I would rather have had a little more added mystery with more moments of did-I-see-that?

Lessons Failed

In order to avoid any spoilers, I will forego this section. That’s how much I love you all. I’m actually putting my education on hold.

Rent/Bury/Buy

I’d hate to repeat myself so soon after And Soon the Darkness, but like that slow burning 1970 thriller, Lake Mungo is a polarizing goosebumps giver or dull dud. Opinions will vary pretty sharply due to the creeping pacing and documentary style. If you have the slightest appreciate for suspenseful and ambiguous films that don’t really fit a specific genre, then rent Lake Mungo quickly and judge for yourself before the inevitable Paranormal Activity love/hate hype endangers your own viewing experience. I genuinely felt my heart beat a little faster during some of Lake Mungo and a day later as I think back, it feels even more haunting a story. While I’m generally not easy to scare (although my barely readable review of Magic might prove otherwise), the combination of striking imagery plus an utterly everday family living with tragedy truly struck some sort of nerve. Hopefully, it does for you as well. 

And remember, I've declared the COMMENTS section to be a spoil happy zone so hold your nose and proceed at your own risk.