Preview: Episode 20- Listener's Choice

We're recording tonight.
Its our fourth Listener's Choice and there will be words. OH YES there will be words...

This coming ep we'll be discussing 1974's Ilsa: Shewolf of the SS.


And  2011's Ink


One of these movies filled us with rage. Which one? Stay tuned!

Was there an alternative title for this?

Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2....Freddy's House Angry Penetration.

Seriously have you SEEN THIS MOVIE?! Some people were saying that you only see the gay metaphors when you're really looking for them. Perhaps I am looking really hard for them.
But when a gym teacher is pelted with countless amounts of balls as his naked supple butt cheeks are whipped with a wet towel by Mr Kruger before his body is penetrated by his claws, I start a wonderin'. This is after they pointlessly film the gym teacher's visit to a leather bar. WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT?!?!
They weren't even GOOD metaphors! What are they trying to say? "Hey, pal, if you come out of the closet, you'll become Freddy Kruger" WHAT?! WHAT THE HELL, MAN!
I have so many questions!
Why did the bird explode?!
Why does Freddy hate anything from Ikea?!
Why does our leading woman look like Meryl Streep?!
Why did our leading man have a box in his closet that was marked PROBE?!
Did I finally find a movie that pissed me off more than Jeepers Creepers and Exorcist: The Begining?!
WHY WHY WHY!
POR QUE!!!

....I'm okay.
Thanks Stac.
I'm so getting you back for this.

Why I Hate Jeepers Creepers, or: Why is your NUT SACK IN MY FACE?!

Just my disgust, movie. And anger. And RAGE! But mostly disgust. And possibly your mom.

I should be packing. I'm leaving tomorrow to fly to see Cins, and I haven't even dragged my suitcase out of the garage. I've got clothes and DVDs thrown everywhere, but nothing to put them in. It's also noon, and I haven't eaten anything yet, put on a bra, or brushed my teeth. Apparently ranting about this movie takes precedence to things that actually impact me physically; but that makes sense since I haaaaate this movie with the fiery passion of a collapsing super nova.

Why do I hate it so, you ask? A simple answer: betrayal. This movie betrayed me.

I saw it on cable, thank God, because if I had seen it in a theater I probably would have ripped all my clothes off, burned said theater to the ground, and streaked my body with the ash as I gibbered and wailed, incoherent with my rage and loathing. The premise was intriguing, and the first half of this movie was so good; it easily would have ended up in my top five favorite films if it had maintained that level to the end. But it didn't, and my adoration turned to hatred. I hate this film so much that I want to bite out its neck and drink its poisoned blood to make sure it NEVER RISES AGAIN.


She has that look on her face because after she kicks the shit out of the Creeper she's going for the director.

The initial set up is simple, and a lot of people seem to forget how effective simple is in terms of horror; you don't need fountaining, CGI blood or exploding nipples or whatever, you just need a basic, scary thing, and you need to present that in a way that will effect the viewer as best it can. This movie started out so in tune with that need that it was nerve-destroying; it's claustrophobic and insular at 55 mph. I ended up staying up until around 3 am to see the whole thing, and I had to work at 10 am the next day; I was usually in bed by 1 am at the latest so I could get my full eight hours. This movie's start was compelling enough to make me forgo sleep, something that I NEVER do. There is little I enjoy as much as sleep, so this movie was good enough to lure me from it.

A brother and a sister, close in age, are driving home from college on break. The siblings are Darry, played by Justin Long, who has been adorable in everything he's ever done in part because he looks perpetually fourteen, and his sister is Trish, played by Gina Phillips. She has got to be one of the most ass-kickingly awesome females in a movie ever, which makes it doubly infuriating that she was wasted in the sewer pipe this film degenerated into. They're squabbling, as siblings do, and it's great because it has this lazy, half-assed feel to it, like real siblings have when they're bored and there's nothing else to do besides push each other's irritation buttons. It's obviously hot and dusty in Trish's car, and the atmosphere is very conducive to making you remember the feel of those hot days at the peak of summer when everything turns gold and brown in the daylight because it's so hot. The sight of a green lawn in jarring because it's so out of place in the heat and drowsy countryside.

Then the truck comes up on their bumper. It's coming fast and laying on the horn, a rusty behemoth of a vehicle that screams "tetanus shot" at best, and "mobile rape and dismemberment unit" at most likely.

This is why some people drive armed. I'm just sayin'.

Unseen in the photo I used it a shot of the license plate, which Darry thinks says "BEATING U". They find out shortly that it's something much worse. Eventually the diesel dinosaur roars past them, and both breath a sigh of relief, glad he's gone. The driver is only vaguely seen in silhouette, wearing a wide brimmed hat.

During their drive the pair had discussed an urban legend about that particular stretch of highway; back in the '60's or '70's a couple had been running off together, and simply disappeared. There turns out to be some truth to that story as the brother and sister pass a church, and see the same ominous figure with the truck o' terror parked near a large culvert pipe. The figure, still primarily in silhouette, is dumping something large down the corrugated drain. They drive past, but eventually turn around, because they think they saw something moving in that package. This scene was GREAT. The siblings go back and forth a bit about keeping going and finding police versus going and seeing if someone needs help. The one cell phone they possess is out of juice, and it turns out the car's lighter is broken, so they can't charge it. It comes across as a very believable set of circumstances, all around, and so far no one is behaving in any fashion other than how you yourself might behave in a similar frightening situation.

They eventually decide to go back, seeing the truck pull away, and peek down the pipe.

That is all kinds of nasty looking. Feel free to insert whatever sex joke you've got on hand in here.

Darry accidentally falls down the shaft, and ends up seeing one of the Creeper's victims as he dies. The pipe turns out to lead to the Creeper's lair, and it is pasted all over with the remains of past victims, posed and sewn and shellacked into some seriously twisted "art". Darry and Trish decide to get the fuck out of there, and look for cops.

This is basically where the movie then drops trou and takes a huge, rank shit all over its viewing audience. From here it descends into psychics, crazy cat ladies, and supernatural panty sniffers. The Creeper takes a lot of damage from Trish, they figure out that the license plate spells "B EATING U" (I'd like to know where the fuck the Creeper got a vanity plate, since I'm pretty sure the DMV frowns on patrons attacking the employees), then takes off with Darry, and kills him. The end.

The decision to keep the Creeper shadowed was a good one, because that suit was fucking TERRIBLE. At one juncture, the monster is killing and eating part of a jailed prisoner. You can see the latex bend and buckle as the actor in the suit twists and turns. Had they just kept that damn suit shadowed, I don't think I would have reviled the ending as much as I did; that and had it kept along the lines of fantastical but still believable. But we left that behind when the psychic lady calls the kids at the diner. Really, just stop the movie here and you'll have a much better viewing experience than I did.

There is also a disturbing layer of sexual possession in this movie, made all the more upsetting by the director's back story. The Creeper's interest in Darry comes across to me a lot like someone being stalked by a rapist. There is repeated references made to the blue rose that Darry has tattooed around his navel, and the camera frequently lingers almost lovingly on him in a lot of shots. The placement of the tattoo is also upsetting as it loops around his bellybutton; the stomach is a very vulnerable place on human anatomy. It's also lower on the torso, just a few inches above the root to his penis. To me, the movie has a weird fixation on Darry's genitalia, which I don't believe is simply all in my head. Victor Salva, the man who wrote and directed this, is a convicted pedophile.

He was convicted in 1988 for assaulting a twelve year old who had been in one of his movies, and was also stupid enough to film it. Sheer genius here, folks. Now, I'm not calling for the man to be burned at the stake; he was convicted, did his time, and to the best of my knowledge has behaved himself ever since. But that is an ugly blot on a psyche, things like that tend to bleed through in creative endeavors, and it really shows in both of the Jeepers Creepers movies. Loving, lingering shots of very young, virile boys are in both movies, (like the boys sunning themselves on the top of the bus in the sequel, as well as the more insecure team members squalling about how one team member is a "faggot", for example) and given his history as an offender, I find that profoundly unsettling.

I work with kids, so my perv alarm was going off long before I knew anything about Victor Salva's personal history, so again, I don't think this is just in my head. The fact that no women are shown consumed by the creature is also telling; Trish survives despite the fact that she did virtually all of the damage to the Creeper AND despite her pointing out to it that she was a better choice of victim because she was stronger than Darry. I think Darry's vulnerability is what attracted the Creeper in the first place; Trish was never really in the same danger that her brother ultimately faced. In the sequel only one woman was killed (the bus driver, my favorite character) but for all we know he just picked her up and dropped her somewhere. None of the cheerleaders are targeted, only the male team members.

It lends a very chilling aspect to an enraging film series, and for me, turns the first film into something profoundly ugly. The fact that the second part of the original was total shit really didn't improve my mood any. If you enjoy this film then more power to you, I certainly don't begrudge you that. I'm simply stating why I hated it so much, not attacking anyone.

That said, MAN did this movie ever blow.

Review-The Ruins or Eh..wasn't as bad as I expected.

Oh don't get me wrong, it wasn't the best flick ever. But it did keep me entertained for about %70-%80 of the movie. I mean if anything it would have given me good mocking material, right? I was expecting painfully awful. What I got was mediocre...which actually wasn't too bad considering my expectations.


This will contain spoilers.

Synopsis - After a rousing night of drinking, sleeping with each other, and mocking the locals, a group of young American tourists think it would be cool to visit some lost ruins. Why? I have no idea. Possibly to fuck in them I suppose. But it turns out there are more to these ruins than means the eye I.E. Man eating plant life! AHHHH! And a group of natives stand guard and refuse to let them leave looking about as bored as the night watchman at your local strip mall.

See that? We are SO going to fuck in there.

Okay okay, I'm mocking it. Its kinda hard not to when a movie feels like a cross between Day of the Triffids and armature surgery night on the Discovery channel.

So, the Good.
The best parts about this movie are anything to do with the plants. Granted, its very hard to make grandma's creeping ivy appear terrifying but the movie does do a good job on making them feel threatening. Through the movie you notice the vines are slowly creeping up our our merry band of douche bags making their space smaller and smaller. And even the CGI when the vines do start to move doesn't come across as super cheesy. The only thing that I did chuckle at were how the flowers could imitate sound. It was a little weird but it seemed to work after a while and add the the creepiness of these plants.
The gore was very well done and even made me twitch and cringe a couple times. We have someones legs getting amputated with a hunting knife, we have a crazy blond chick cutting herself up in a mad blood covered frenzy, a couple heads get blown off, and of course we had plants slowly getting inside of people. Nope, no plant rape. But we do have moments of vines crawling into peoples wounds, people trying to cut out said vines, and vines generally doing weird things to bodies. I'm probably in the minority here but I have an aversion spidery vines trying to grow on you. Don't ask why because I have no clue were I developed that fear. My guess is when I watched Creep Show for the first time. But they definitely don't do the typical lash out and grab routine you very often at all. Its more like you wake up and suddenly you have vines all over you. They are stealthy ninja plants!

Don't judge my irrational fears.

The subplot of the natives being there to keep the plants from spreading had a lot of potential. I liked the idea of these vines being like a zombie virus. If any plant residue escaped, we'd all be making some sweet sweet vine love... Unfortunately this went no where which I will touch on shortly.

And The Bad
Despite the fact that the best part of the movie were the plants, the plants really didn't do too much which disappointed me. But I suppose we couldn't have too much plant action or the film would have been 30 minutes long. There was no doubt in my mind that this group could not out wit a plant. Seriously. I knew they were fertilizer the moment they came on screen. Still I longed for more plant action. Maybe this movie would have been better as a short film.
The characters...I mean come on. There was not one appealing character in the entire film. Everyone was a douche bag! Sometimes its fun to watch jerks get their comeuppance but you need to at least sympathise a bit with someone to feel the terror. I found myself thinking "Oh thank God they're dead now I don't have to listen to them whine!". While I know that they all had names, I could not remember a damn one. I classified them as No legs, The screechy blond, Lindsey Lohan's stunt double, The guy with the crow magnum brow, Dead meat, and the Hobbit. Though I have to admit I did like the screechy blond simply because the scene where she goes completely out of her mind was awesome.

And I bet you can pick out four of who I described.

The Ending....I mean COME ON. What the Hell?! Now at the beginning of the film we the viewers are given the impression that no one will escape the ruins because if any plant life gets out and spreads it becomes more or less like a zombie virus. And our American tourists are covered in plant dust. They even emphasise this more when a plant touches one of the natives children and they shoot him dead instantly. So the tourists have this great escape plan which is the horror equivalent of the"dressing in drag and doing the hula" routine while one of our heroes runs to safety. She runs! Gets into the jeep! She drives! She's free!!....and that's it.....Okay....so where's the pay off for that whole the plants cannot spread subplot you've been bugging us with? Hell if I know. And that subplot was something I thought was really interesting too. Yet it just gets tossed out the window.
I also wonder if anyone thought about bees when they came up with that subplot.

Anyways, The Ruins was okay but nothing I would get over excited for. It had some good gore moments so its worth checking out for that I suppose. Otherwise I would either catch it on cable or wait until it ends up on Hulu.
But if you do deside to watch it you at least get a payoff of some really good plant action

Chalk up another one for a drunken horror movie night!

I'm currently watching this gem.



Mustang Sally's Horror House.

Or...whore-er house. Less horror more porn-er.
Its kinda a Hostel meets Debbie Does Dallas. Since I'm currently watching it on Chiller its lacking the nuances such as nipples and the F Bomb.

The hubby and I are currently watching this sucker and we really cannot stop laughing. Its not Zombie Strippers by any stretch but I really would love to watch this sucker with some really snarky gal pals after a bottle of wine.

I would also like to point out this movie has the best hooker names EVER. Tushalene, LikiLick (shes the Asian one), Caressa, Titi-ana (don't you call her titty!), Persuasion, and the not quite creative but you see where this is going name, Kitty.

Check it out for a good Stupid horror film with big jugs!

Check out the trailer:

You Should Know Better, Dammit

I had me a wee epiphany the other night.

I love horror movies, and obviously, so do you or you wouldn't be reading this, I presume. (Or you're my roommate. Hi, Bevin!) But as fans, we all have to admit that there can be some truly terrible entries into our beloved genre. I'm sure this applies across the board, regardless of the story, but for some reason horror's failures seem to be so much more.. vivid.. than its filmographic siblings.

Every style of film has its cliches, but none seem to make my blood boil to the same degree as some of the rampant stupidity that scary (or want to be) movies seem to spread all over the camera lens like rancid mayonnaise. This is lazy thinking at its finest, in my regard, and it can take an otherwise enjoyable watching experience and turn it into a weapon that I swear to God in heaven above was designed for the sole purpose of pissing me off. So I thought I would take this blog, turn it into a nifty cyber soap box, and figuratively climb upon it to scream into the darkness of the internet.

The first of many cliches that is absolutely guaranteed to make me chew on tin foil in the futile hopes of calming myself down off of this precipice of SHEER RAGE is everyone's favorite: the bull shit ending. You know what I mean here; its become a staple of low budget horror in particular, and you can basically guarantee that any macabre movie shown on the Sci Fi channel will do this. I'm referring to what I have dubbed The Negated Ending. This is where the film makers either show themselves to be greedy, "edgy", stupid, or all three. This is where the climax of the film has delivered its pay off, the evil is vanquished, the couple or group of friends, or siblings, or whatever the survivor pool is comprised of, quip tiredly off into the sunset, assured that because of the rules that allowed the evil to be summoned in the first place, the evil is now no more. There is usually no way that the threat of the film could come back-- the ghost is exorcised, the bad guy shot, the monster banished, the portal to hell closed. And then what fucking happens, like you don't already know?! Somehow, improbably, the threat is back, tries to throw a little BOOGABOOGA at you, like you didn't see it telegraphed about an HOUR ago, and then the credits role.

Attention film makers who pull this stunt: I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU AND I HOPE YOU GET LIP HERPES! AND I HOPE IT ITCHES!! STOP DOING THIS!!!!


The next stupid cliche that makes me so angry I get a burst blood vessel in my eyeball: the "shocking" betrayal that, once again, you probably picked up on before the main titles had come up on the screen. Can't people who claim to be friends just be fucking friends? Have these dip shits been in the movie machine for so long now that betrayal is simply a way of life? I get that not everyone is who they claim they are, but not everyone is a lying douche nozzle waiting for you to turn your back so they have a clearer view of where to plant the knife, either! If you think your friend would fuck you over for pot or money or a lay, don't take their asses into the jungle with you! Have a pal prone to emotionally crumbling? Make sure you don't get partnered with them in the abandoned, creepy hospital! Are you a spy or consorting with them? THEN TRUST NO ONE! (I'm looking at YOU Indiana Jones!) I'm also going to give everyone in the world a hint: if Jake Busey appears to you, claiming he's in need of aid, keep fucking driving!

This spills over a bit into character stereotypes: on the rare occasion that you have a self sufficient heroine, why is her boyfriend always a cheating, abusive piece of shit? I personally make it my goal to terrorize those I date into remaining faithful. I can guarantee you emasculation at best, and if I find out about your inability to keep your tonker in your Tuffkskins during a high stress situation like we're being chased by zombies, your ass is brain food for the shambling masses of the undead. Why is there no such thing as a surviving and healthy relationship? If the guy isn't a prick then Leatherface is going to plant a zipper in his chest and wear him around to do his crazy chainsaw dance in.

One last one (for now) and then I'll wrap, because I can most assuredly go on all night on this topic. Ask anyone who's seen me (or wound me up into a) rant; it can go on for hours, involves frothing at the mouth, wild gesticulation, volume, and then tends to degenerate into drinking a lot of tequila and sulking. And sometimes sleeping on Cins' kitchen floor, but that's a tale for anther time.

My final peevish irritation is pointed at faulty anatomy. It's thanks to this thought that I got the idea for this entry as well as a future article, so score one for irrational hatred. Is it that fucking hard to crack out an anatomy textbook or something, to verify that your killing blow will, in fact, kill? My most recent red flag in this instance is the ever popular stomach stab. Did you know that this is, actually, a really fucking horrible, lengthy way to die? Unless the stabbing object manages to nick the major artery in the back, along the spine and the victim bleeds out, most wounds of this kind can actually take a long time to kill the person it is inflicted on. Shock might do them in first, if they were lucky, but otherwise what is likely to set in is sepsis, caused by stomach acid leaking into the body's cavity. I would imagine that death will eventually result from a massive infection, or organ damage. You don't just go *STAB*, and the victim then dies to death. And it is sure as HELL not a merciful way to kill someone! For fuck's sake, people!

I know that common sense and suspension of disbelief don't often go hand in hand, but come ON! Meet me in the middle, will you? I'm warning you: this WILL be an ongoing thing. So very, very much of the world ANGERS ME!