Festival Of Fear: Day 24: Friday Flashback ~ The Fog (1980): The Curse Of Antonio Bay

I can't believe after all these years of writing this blog I've never actually written anything about John Carpenter's The Fog.  It's one of my favorite 80's films, with atmosphere galore, nasty deaths, and Adrienne Barbeau, people!

(If you stare at this picture long enough, the ocean will appear to move...)

Antonio Bay is a gorgeous yet sleepy seaside village in California that is about to celebrate its centennial with several planned festivities. But just as plans are being finalized and last minute details are being discussed, strange things start to occur.   Local priest Father Malone (Hal Holbrook) notices a piece of stone falling from the old church in town, and in the gaping hole he discovers a journal written by his own grandfather a hundred years ago.  It tells of the six founders of the town and the plot they had to prevent a leper colony from putting down roots nearby.  They lit a fire on the beach, causing the clipper ship The Elizabeth Dane to crash into the rocks and sink, sending all the crew on board to a watery grave. As if that wasn't enough, the founders then stole the gold from the ship to fortify Antonio Bay's existence.

The film opened with the token curmudgeon (John Houseman, used to his full cantankerous potential here) telling an old ghost story to a bunch of little kids around a campfire, in fact telling this exact tale and adding that the six founders' descendants would have to pay the ultimate price when they came back 100 years later. Which is of course, that very night.

Meanwhile, resident Nick Castle (Tom Atkins) picks up a hitchhiker, Elizabeth (Jamie Lee Curtis) and heads for town for some late night fun.  They are shocked when driving into town, the windows in the car suddenly all shatter. All across town, weird things begin to happen.  Electronics go haywire.  Pay phones all ring at the same time. Windows fracture and break out. 

As a disc jockey set up in the town's lighthouse, Stevie Wayne (Barbeau) brings news and jazzy tunes to the inhabitants of the small fishing community by night and tries to keep her son out of trouble by day. On this ill-fated day, her son wakes her by delivering an old piece of wood with the word "DANE" on it to her while she is sleeping.  She drags it along to work with her and is startled when the words 'six must die' appear on the piece of driftwood before it bursts into flames.

Nick and Elizabeth have been helping look for a trio of missing fisherman and soon find the trawler stranded out on the sea with one of the fishermen dead inside with his eyes gouged out.  He has apparently scratched the number "3" in the wood of the deck.  (This indicates to us that he is the third of the six to die.) The boat and the victim also look as though they've been lost at sea for years. The boat is a rusted mess and the victim has decomposed far beyond the effects that just a day or so would produce.

As the town's special evening draws near, Father Malone corners the event coordinator Kathy Williams (Janet Leigh) and explains to her that they can't possibly continue with their plans, as they are celebrating the origins of a town founded on the murders of the doomed sailors.  He shows her the journal and tells her that the crew of the Elizabeth Dane intends to come back and seek vengeance for their murders.

Stevie begins to warn both sailors on the sea and residents of Antonio Bay alike that the inexplicable and strange fog is beginning to roll in and envelope the town.  Homeowners are greeted with a foreboding three-rap knock to their doors and if they dare answer, the ghosts of the crew of the Elizabeth Dane make them answer for the sins of their forefathers.

While not a big-budget horror movie, The Fog still manages to evoke an extremely creepy vibe.  Carpenter knows just when to pounce on wary viewers, and builds the suspense to a fever pitch here.  At once a sinister film, it produces the desired "ghosts-from-the-sea" effect by having glowing eyes and seaweed-draped clothing as they ramble, zombie-like, from place to place looking for their 20th century victims to seek retribution on.

Nowhere near as effective as Carpenter's Halloween (1978), it still branded him as a leading talent in the horror genre, a title he would keep for years to come.  The Fog  feels basic at best, but if there is a better tale of vengeful ghostly sailors out for blood, I need someone to let me know right away, because as much as I enjoy this take on it, I'd be sure to love anything else that seemingly betters it.   My favorite place in the world to vacation is the ocean, and I love horror movies with my entire heart, so the combination of the two makes me a very happy camper.

[Oh, and FORGET the 2005 remake, it's a lousy shell of the original, even though Carpenter and his producing partner, the late Debra Hill, had a hand in it.  Stick to the authentic Fog, and let it roll in and wrap you in its blanket of creepy goodness.]

Festival Of Fear: Day 17: Friday Flashback ~ Christine (1983): She's Bad To The Bone

I remember very well reading Stephen King's Christine when I was a teenager.   I was enamored with the lyrics to all those oldies opening the chapters, enjoyed the high school setting (since I was at that oh-so-annoying time in my life as well),  and of course I was pretty damn psyched that my favorite author had named a novel after me.  Ok, that last part isn't true..

Regardless, I was even more excited when I heard they were making it into a movie.  Christine is the type of book that begs to be scripted and put to the big screen. All that teenaged angst!  The diabolical car! Those oldies!!  Reminisce with me now, as I take a step back over thirty years ago....

We learn right off the bat that this car is absolutely nothing to mess around with.  Still on the assembly line,  it slams its hood on a guy's hand and then chokes another to death.  It means business.  We don't learn the car's moniker until after we meet Arnie (Keith Gordon), a nerdy high school senior with no guts, no girlfriend, and no glory. The tough-kid crowd at school is constantly bullying him, and his only friend is Dennis (John Stockwell), a rising football star who keeps the others at bay when it comes to picking on Arnie. 

One day coming home from school they pass by an old rusty car sitting in a backyard.  Arnie is immediately swept off his feet by the vehicle, and despite Dennis's many urgings to the contrary, purchases the 1958 Plymouth Fury.  The seller claims his brother died in the car but doesn't elaborate, only telling Arnie that "her name is Christine".  Arnie gets into a major battle with his mother at home when she learns he spent some of the money for his college education on this piece of shit car.  She tells him he is not allowed to park it in the driveway and so Arnie is able to work out a deal with the owner of a local garage to store Christine there.

Soon Dennis becomes aware that Arnie's infatuation with Christine has become an obsession.  He devotes all his free time to the car, and within a short time has it fixed up in showroom condition.  It's not just the car that goes through changes though.  Arnie has been changing as well.  His attitude becomes coarse and arrogant. He stands up to the bullies at school. He also ends up getting a date with the hottest girl in the school, Leigh (Alexandra Paul), a girl Dennis himself had eyes for. 

When bad-boy Buddy Reperton (William Ostrander) and his gang of bullies break into the garage one night and trash Christine beyond all repair, they soon start dying off one by one. It mysteriously seems as though Christine was always in the vicinity at the time, so local law enforcement (Harry Dean Stanton) begins to investigate Arnie. 

Meanwhile, Arnie and Leigh have an argument after she nearly chokes to death at the drive-in while Arnie stands outside the car, unable to get in.  She tells him she won't go in the car anymore, and Arnie flips out, telling her how much Christine means to him.

At this point, it becomes obvious Arnie and Christine are inseparable.  Dennis and Leigh devise a plan to put an end to the evil vehicle....but it won't be easy.

Christine is a fun horror movie.  I say this because you have to put all sense aside and assume that a car can take on a life of its own.  It's happened before in horror (best case in point: the James Brolin vehicle, The Car, 1977) and I'm sure it will happen again.  Possessed or evil items are always a huge hit with the genre crowd, and this movie fits in quite well.

It's not all about the car, though. You have to look a little deeper to get Stephen King's meaning in this one.  It isn't what Arnie did to (save and restore) Christine. It's what Christine did to Arnie. She changed him. The obsession that grows throughout the film, all with a backdrop of great oldies, is unnerving to watch.  Keith Gordon does such an admirable acting job, going from complete and utter nerd to the self-assured cool guy who just might be more dangerous than we think.  Christine makes Arnie her own, and she shows her jealousy by nearly killing "the other woman", dispatching of all the bullies in Arnie's life, and by having a hand in an injury that all but ruins Dennis's football future.  She's dangerous.  Evil. 

I would be remiss if I didn't again mention how great it is to hear all the old songs used in this film. They are perfectly matched to the actions of the film, like when Leigh is choking Robert and Johnny were crooning the 1958 classic, We Belong Together.  Better yet, when Christine is "fixing" all her injuries, the perfect placement of the Viscounts Harlem Nocturne still gives me chills (see below). Equally as impressive is the opening credits song, Bad to the Bone.  While George Thorogood didn't record that song until 1982, a year before the film's release, it's still a wildly appropriate song to introduce us to the malicious automobile. Also used to great effect was the Little Richard classic Keep-a-knockin'.  Christine was very picky about who she let inside her little world, and that song conveyed it perfectly.

The film, directed by John Carpenter, has become a favorite in horror circles, and I'll be the first to admit when it comes on TV I find it impossible to turn off.  One of the key scenes, when Christine is on fire and rolling down the dark streets, is a sublime scene of pure malevolence.  If you haven't seen it in a while, it's time to revisit.  This Christine won't steer you wrong.

Festival Of Fear: Day 10 ~ Friday Flashback: Salem's Lot: Grab Your Crucifix, We're Going In!

Just because a film is on television - or is a two-part mini-series to boot - doesn't mean it isn't going to be fun.  I can think of a ton of movies that were on TV (i.e. Dark Night of the Scarecrow, The Little Girl that Lives Down the Lane, Bad Ronald, The Stand, IT, The Woman in Black 1989) that are really worthy of your attention.  But let's make one thing very clear:  Salem's Lot   (1979) is one of the best.

Ben Mears (David Soul, a.k.a.Hutch from Starsky & Hutch) returns to his hometown after being away for an extended period of time.  He's chosen to come back in order to write a book about the creepy house on the edge of town - the Marsten House. It's a home that has a reputation for being haunted (of course) and Ben has always held feelings of fear where the house is concerned.  He first asks about possibly staying at the home, but is quickly shot down by the local townsfolk who tell him a peculiar old man and his "employer" have bought it.  The eccentric Mr Straker (James Mason) and his oft-gone Mr. Barlow (Reggie Nalder) are living there now, with intentions of putting down roots and opening an antique shop in town. Ben instead rents a room at a boarding house and begins asking questions around the town about the mysterious duo in the house on the hill.

Ben (very) quickly starts up a relationship with Susan Norton (Bonnie Bedelia) and in doing so becomes friends and confidants with her father, Bill (Ed Flanders).  He also confides in his old school teacher, Jason Burke (Lew Ayres) that he thinks the Marsten house is in fact, evil - and has been for as long as he can remember.

Things help the case for weirdness along when late at night the Marsten house receives a large crate, and soon there is an apparent murderer running amok.  While Ben and Susan are getting their groove on, people are dying in strange ways, though a common denominator seems to be a bite to the neck.  While it would be  plain and simple (and even logical) to explain away the problem by just admitting there is a vampire in town, no one in the town is willing to admit this, even though person after person winds up infected with the blood of the undead, effectively turning them into vampires as well.  The antiques business seems to be drumming up more customers than they expected.  In other words, business is good.

No one has to hit Ben over the head with a stake for him to catch on that Nosferatu has moved into the house on the hill.  He becomes dead-set to stop this inherent evil and take back his town before they all become blood-drooling spawn of the devil. 

Salem's Lot probably pales a lot in comparison  to the horror films of today, if only for the gore content and the amount of violence that was allowed on network television back in the late 70's.  Now if we turn on the  tube at any given time we're apt to see a man carving a swastika in someone's chest, sticking a meat fork in someone's brain, or burning someone alive (and that's just Sons of Anarchy, folks).  But what Salem's Lot DID have is atmosphere.  Loads of throat-choking fog drifting in and out of view, child-vamps knocking on your window in the dead of night, labyrinth basements of doom, and the ever-present pause for effect that commercial station identification inevitably brought.  You also get a continual sense of doom, a feeling that starts at the opening credits and rolls on throughout the entire running time.

With the good, inevitably comes the bad.  In this case, as bad acting, of course. Not everyone could have used lessons but let's face it, many of the cast needed some serious schooling on how not to OVER-act.  Starsky & Hutch was a fave show of mine back in the day so for me, David Soul could do no wrong. Even if he couldn't act, how could you do wrong with his blond wavy hair, sexy voice, corduroy jackets with patched elbows, and a super-cool Jeep??  But other than him, it was all pretty lame, but tolerable. The script more than made up for any acting shortcomings.

Effects wise, Salem's Lot conjured up one of the most effectively ghoulish vampires in cinematic history.  With a major ode to Nosferatu before him, Kurt Barlow is the epitome of a terrifying creature of the night.  None of this "take me to bed or lose me forever" kind of bullshit.  Just pure and simple evil.  A vampire who sucks your blood then throws you across the room while making a minion of your beautiful wife - or your youngest child.

Though the end result had Stephen King's source material ending up a little disheveled, the novel itself is really one of King's best, and it goes without saying that the man knows how to make your skin crawl. But in taking a few liberties with King's novel, what Salem's Lot the film really achieved is that it made vampires damn scary. All they wanted to do was eat you and force you to do their bidding for all eternity.  Seems easy enough.  Cinema keeps turning the wheels on the vampire legend, and quite often the lore just goes right out the window.  Lore is replaced with lure, with vampires itching to get the pretty girl into bed and making her one of his kind so he can love her forever.  Um, NO.  Vampires in legend just want to make you suffer, kill you, and/or force their will upon you.

As Jerusalem's Lot (as the town was formerly known) starts to slowly change its percentage of humans to vampires, Ben, Bill, Jason Burke, and young Mark Petrie (who has a penchant for horror films and knows all the right moves when it comes to effectively killing a vampire) set plans in motion to stop the evil Mr. Straker and his master Barlow from making the town a giant tomb.  Or should I say crypt?  And with Ben's girlfriend Susan all but a concubine of the undead, there's no time like the present to stamp out the vamp.

It's really easy to overlook the hokey here and enjoy this Tobe Hooper-directed gem.  He injects enough scares to make it a legitimate horror film despite its mild television roots. It has endeared itself to the horror crowd if for no other reason than it is a great representation of a frightening vampire film, in which the undead are terrifying as hell and awaiting your eternal devotion.

Festival Of Fear, Day 3 ~ Friday Flashback: The Howling (1981): "You Can't Tame What's Meant To Be Wild"

The Howling has the unique distinction of being released the same year as two other werewolf films, the wildly popular An American Werewolf in London, and the lesser known (and rather bizarre) Wolfen.  All three films hail from the greatest year in horror: 1981.
Joe Dante (Gremlins) directed this feature, and it has a really outstanding score from the great Pino Donaggio.

In its day, The Howling had heaps of praise dumped on it for its impressive practical effects, and boasted a really decent transformation brought to us by Rob Bottin, an understudy of Rick Baker, who would later astonish us with his work in John Carpenter's The Thing, among other work.

It is loosely based on a book by Gary Brandner and brings us the story of Karen White (Dee Wallace), a popular television news anchor who is on the trail of serial killer Eddie Quist (Robert Picardo), who is menacing the city with unusually violent kills and now has his eye on Karen. She helps the police set up a trap for the murderer by meeting him in a seedy porno shop with a theater in the back.  Eddie forces Karen to watch a video of a woman getting raped, but he won't let her see his face.  He whispers that he has something to show her, and just as she turns around to look him in the eye, the police arrive and shoot him dead as she is screaming.

Suffering from PTSD, Karen is unable to recall the traumatic incident, and can't remember just what was so terrible that she was screaming.  She also cannot render a mental picture of Eddie's face.  What was so awful?
She tries traditional therapy at the urging of her husband Bill (Christopher Stone, who later married Wallace) but without success, prompting her therapist to suggest a getaway to The Colony, a secluded retreat north of the city.

Upon arrival, Karen and Bill are greeted by a conglomerate of unique, bordering on bizarre, resort-goers. They immediately take a special interest in the couple, trying to make them feel welcome and advising them to settle in, that they will "love it here".  In particular, a sexy she-bitch Marsha Quist (Elisabeth Brooks) sets her sights on Bill, and eventually tries to seduce him outright.  When he refuses her come-on, he is attacked and bitten by a huge wolf-creature on the way back to his cabin.  Later in the middle of the night, Bill is seemingly 'called' to the woods, where Marsha is waiting for him.  They have feral sex by a roaring fire and are soon seen shape-shifting into wolves.  The next morning Karen notices the deep scratch wounds on Bill's back and realizes he has been with Marsha. 

Admitting something very strange is going on, Karen contacts her friend Terri (Belinda Balaski) who makes her way up to the Colony, after a discussion with her news producer boyfriend Chris (Dennis Dugan) about the various possibilities of what could be going on.  Being an investigative reporter, she has been following the Eddie Quist case and finds a strange connection once at the retreat.

 Unfortunately, Eddie isn't dead, and reappears just in time to thwart her plans to uncover the secret of the colony.  Soon after, Karen and Chris (who has made his way to the Colony as well) are forced to face the truth about what is going on, and end up fighting for their lives, let alone their humanity.  The scene in which Karen finally confronts Eddie and he transforms into a werewolf in front of her very eyes is one of my favorites in horror.

The Howling is at times, silly.  There is a boat-load of intentional humor within the film, but the 80's-style levity only endears the picture more to its generation.  It also has a laundry list of cameos in it as well, including folks like Roger Corman and Forrest J. Ackerman.
When I was a young teen, this flick was the bomb, I loved it. It holds a great amount of nostalgia for me, and I still find myself watching it again and again.

In horror, there really aren't a whole lot of decent werewolf movies.  It's an underutilized sub-genre with not a lot of worthy additions (I'd count An American Werewolf in London, Ginger Snaps and Dog Soldiers in the small circle, but not a whole lot else).  I've loved The Howling since it was released.  With it, Friday the 13th, and Halloween, I had a little go-to Trifecta of horror films I could come back to many times and never get sick of.  The effects and decent acting drew me in to The Howling, and it has great atmosphere:  dark woods, shifty eccentrics, and loads of fog rolling in. It doesn't resort to the whole "full moon" gag that every other werewolf film overuses, it implies that these people can shift into monsters at any given time, it doesn't have to be a full moon.  Which, if I'm being honest, is a whole lot scarier than knowing you have about 29 more days till you have to worry. 

I can't say much for the mostly-horrible multiple sequels that followed, but I will vouch for the greatness of this '81 classic.  If you've never seen it (who are you??), you need to take a trip up to The Colony.  You won't be disappointed.

Friday Flashback: The Slumber Party Massacre (1982) : Drilling Its Way Back Into Your Heart...

Back in the early eighties, there were loads of formulaic slasher films. And I'm guilty of seeing pretty much every one of them. I fondly recall the first time I saw Slumber Party Massacre, with it's pulsating electronic score and deranged nut-job wielding a power drill. It wasn't exactly brave new cinema, but it was a fast-paced, tight little film with a short running time so as not to bore you to tears while you wait for the red stuff to start flowing.

After an opening scene in which the paper boy delivers a fresh newspaper divulging the fact that escaped killer Russ Thorn is on the loose, we focus on eighteen year old Trish Devereaux (Michelle Michaels), who has invited her basketball team friends over for a slumber party since her parents are leaving town for the weekend. Her parents have charged their neighbor, Mr. Contant, to keep an eye on the house (and the girls, of course!) while they are away, to which he readily agrees to do.

At school in the locker room (after steamy showers and lots of gratuitous T & A shots), Trish's bitchy friend Diane (Gina Hunter) cuts up the new girl on the team, Valerie (Robin Stille) and the other girls add in their hateful two cents as well.  Trish wants to ask Valerie to the slumber party, but Valerie overheard the nasty comments and rushes out of the school.

Here's where I find myself having to mention what incredible bitches teenage girls are. Back in the day, it wasn't outright called bullying, and there was much less focus on it back then - but let's be frank when we say it most certainly was bullying, and this is a prime example. Just because someone is different (in this case Valerie was better than them at sports and is noticeably prettier) isn't a reason to be a cunt.  Regardless, it happens all the time, and this film is true-to-life in that respect.

While all the planning for the party is underway, our lunatic occupies himself with some practice kills by laying waste to several poor unfortunate folks before heading over to the Devereaux household.  Thorn, with wild, spastic eyes and dressed to kill in head to toe denim, gears up his weapon of choice - a power drill - and powers his way through bone and tissue - which of course means lots of blood and guts for us gore-hounds.

Finally making his way to the girl's party, Thorn proceeds to drill his way through the cast (which at this point include some peeping tom boys from school and the unlucky Mr. Contant) until there are only a few girls left - one of which is Valerie, the scorned girl from the gym who happened to live across the street from Trish.

No new ground is broken throughout Slumber Party Massacre, but humor abounds and the old-school feel of the film really reeks nostalgia. It's a fun 77 minutes, with no time lost on developing secondary story lines or explaining why Thorn has chosen the girls. It's just pure, early-eighties, slasher-film fun!

There are an ungodly amount of cliches in SPM. Catty teens who bad-mouth the new girl, parties (in this case, slumber) with no parental supervision, the creepy neighbor next door, the lone girl stranded in an empty school hallway or dark garage, underage drinking and drugs, the escaped lunatic with a penchant for young lovelies, etc...etc.  But to my surprise (and perhaps yours), it bears the stamp of two women: Director Amy Holden Jones and writer Rita Mae Brown.

Jones, an ardent feminist, worked with both Scorsese and Roger Corman in her career, and Brown (an even more staunch feminist) has found great success as an author, in particular with a series of "cozy" mysteries starring a cat: 'Sneaky Pie Brown'. 

It is said that when Brown wrote SPM, it was intended to be a parody of the slasher film, but the producers ended up playing it straight. But it still has some genuinely funny parts (such as when the girls eat pizza out of the box on the dead delivery boy's chest) and it helps the film be a little more original and likable than you'd imagine it could be. The two women even inject a dose of their own feminism into the film when the girls actually chase after the killer. We love tough girls!

If you've never taken a chance on it, I'd say you could do far worse, so give it a chance for some good old-fashioned 80's fun.

Friday Flashback: Misery (1990): One Big Bastard Of A Movie!

In keeping with our winter horror theme, we're going back to 1990 for a great film with a snowy setting, and a storm that figures in centrally to the story line.

An absolutely virtuoso performance by Kathy Bates highlights one of the best Stephen King adaptations ever made.  Rob Reiner lends a careful eye to detail and keeps the fluff to a minimum in this at times chilling yet always entertaining film.

Paul Sheldon (James Caan, also fabulous here) is a multi-million dollar selling novelist whose fortune has come from penning sappy historical romance novels with a main character named Misery Chastain.  He's disgusted with himself, tired of selling out to Misery's success and ready to try out a new genre. He is back at the Silver Creek Lodge as per his usual course of action when he's finishing up his latest manuscript. This time though, it's a departure from the romance he's been doing.

Proud of his work and excited to turn it in to his agent, he starts off for home but gets caught in a menacing blizzard and goes over an embankment and into a deep snow bank.

Lucky for him, someone has been following him and hence treks down through the snow to rescue him from certain death.  Enter Annie Wilkes (Bates).  Paul Sheldon's Number One Fan.

At first, Paul thinks he has to be the luckiest man in the world. Imagine your luck, wrecking your car in a major snowstorm. Easy to imagine it would be your last hours on earth, waiting to slowly freeze to death and perhaps not being found until the spring thaw.  But Paul is found, carried out (yes!) to safety by a big brute of a registered nurse. He's then driven to her humble abode and tucked into a nice warm bed. 

When he awakes, Annie is at hand with pain meds and an explanation of the severity of his injuries, including compound fractures of several bones in both legs, rendering him utterly helpless.
At first, all seems well.  Annie is a very attentive nurse, always ready with food, comfort, and stories of just how much she loves Paul's books.  What a crazy coincidence!  Snowbound at a house where someone doesn't just love his books, she lives and breathes them.

They get along like gangbusters for a while, with Paul even agreeing to allow Annie to read his unpublished manuscript (which she conveniently managed to dig out of his wrecked car as well), which makes her so excited she can barely contain herself. Annie also assures Paul that once the storm stops and the phones are up, she'll get in touch with both his agent and his daughter. She even introduces him to her pig, Misery.
Yikes.

There is a creepy moment of clarity however, when the two are discussing Paul's new novel -which Annie doesn't like in the least due to excessive profanity - and she flies off the handle, spilling hot soup on Paul.  Though she profusely apologizes, Paul gets a first hand look at the other side of Annie Wilkes.  And it's not pleasant.

Unfortunately, the final Misery book is released during Paul's extended stay at Annie's isolated farmhouse. Naturally Annie grabs up the first copy of the novel while shopping in town and digs in.  One night, Paul is awakened by a very pissed-off Annie, who has finally gotten to the part where Paul killed off Misery Chastain. And then, things get really (in Annie's words) oogy.

The local sheriff Buster (Richard Farnsworth), meanwhile, is following leads and doing his own investigating in an attempt to locate the missing author. Paul's agent (Lauren Bacall) also fears the worst as she tries to track him down as well.  He finds some newspaper articles about a trial that involved Annie and several dead infants at a hospital she was employed at. He matches one of her quotes from the trial with a line from one of the Misery books and presto!

But Annie isn't letting Paul get away with killing off Misery.  She exacts a revenge custom suited to her needs by forcing Paul to first burn his unpublished manuscript and then setting him up with a typewriter to write a new Misery book - one that will bring her back from the dead.  For inspiration, she puts on her Liberace records. 

But Paul isn't just going to lay down and give up.  He's getting stronger every day, and when Annie makes trips to town, he ventures out of his confinement and attempts to find a way out that he could manage while still in a wheelchair.  Sadly though, this idea ends badly when Annie finds out Paul has been out of his room. If you've seen this film, then you know what comes next. 

Misery doesn't shy away from showing how bad an unhealthy obsession can get. The film is torturing us just as Annie does the same to Paul, physically.  Paul's struggles to get out mirror Annie's struggle to keep him there at her house forever. When she admits she's never called anyone - that no one is coming to get him, and that no one even knows he's there - it's probably the most frightening moment of the entire film.  When you realize just how bat-shit crazy she really is, it's too late. You're completely engrossed. And loving every minute of it.

Like I said, Kathy Bates was so excellent, portraying what is now known to be one of the scariest horror villains (male or female) in all of movie history.  Put Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter with Kathy Bates here and you have a set of horror bookends that's hard to beat. And they have the Oscars to prove it.
At times it's hard not to feel a little bit bad for Annie- she's obviously a sad soul -but then you have to shake it off, remember that she killed a bunch of babies, and is more than one fry short of a Happy Meal.

But that's what makes Misery so deliciously good!

"The rain. Sometimes it gives me the blues. When you first came here, I only loved the writer part of Paul Sheldon. Now I know I love the rest of him, too. I know you don't love me, don't say you do. You're beautiful, brilliant, a famous man of the world and I'm…not a movie star type. You'll never know the fear of losing someone like you if you're someone like me."
~ Annie Wilkes

Friday Flashback: Silver Bullet (1985) : Full Moons and Private Justice

In honor of the blue moon tonight, I deemed it appropriate to reminisce about what else than a werewolf film.  Based on the Stephen King novella Cycle of the Werewolf, Silver Bullet is a classic 80's werewolf flick that sometimes seems more like a coming of age movie than a horror film.

 Not exactly frightening, it's still a fun ride and does have several recognizable actors in it.  Starring The Lost Boys alum Corey Haim (back in the day, before he was part of the dynamic duo of Corey (Haim) & Corey (Feldman), Megan Follows (Anne of Green Gables), Everett McGill (Twin Peaks, The People Under the Stairs), Terry O'Quinn (LOST, The Stepfather), and the ever-popular Gary Busey (does he really need an introduction?). 

Haim stars as Marty, a pre-teen paraplegic who has a souped-up wheelchair and a penchant for pulling pranks on his older sister.  Said sister is Jane, who narrates the film (as an adult thinking back) and is expected by her parents to help Marty at every turn. 

They live in the small community of Tarker's Mills, where something strange is afoot (literally).  A series of grisly murders has put a pall over the town, causing a curfew to be set in place and folks to hide in their homes after dark.  Local authorities, headed up by O'Quinn as Sheriff Haller, are at a loss, unable to explain why it appears like a monster is picking through the town for its evening meals.

When Marty's friend Brady is killed, a group of townsfolk decide to go all vigilante and take off into the woods to look for whomever or whatever is gruesomely murdering people left and right.
As the audience, we are well aware that the culprit is a werewolf.  If we couldn't have figured it out, the ominous music that plays every time the wolf is circling its prey gives it away. 
When several of the justice league are taken down by the wolf,  Reverend Lowe (McGill)  takes it upon himself to try to get the town to stop taking matters into their own hands. He begins to have disturbing dreams about the savage deaths of community members.

Marty's Uncle Red shows up at the height of the murders, pissing off his sister by acting like the drunken fool he apparently is.  But Marty adores Red, and the feeling is obviously mutual, with Red presenting Marty with a brand new set of wheels.  A cross between a wheelchair and motorcycle, the two dub the gift 'Silver Bullet', and though Marty is told to be careful and not go anywhere alone due to the gravity of the town situation, Marty doesn't listen too well and goes off on his own with the Silver Bullet.

While setting off fireworks near a local covered bridge in the dead of night, Marty is startled by the werewolf, who has shown up uninvited for a midnight snack.  But Marty is able to shoot a firework rocket into the wolf's eye, maiming it.  As Marty speeds away on his bike, it's obvious that we are soon going to know just who the werewolf is - with an injury to the eye he or she will be easy to pick out.

Which is exactly what happens.  As Marty tries to convince Jane and Uncle Red that there is a werewolf in town, we are privy to his identity - which lends a whole new aspect to the movie.  And when the trio discover who the werewolf is, things again shift and it's all about ending the wolf's wrath. 

Silver Bullet is no Dog Soldiers.  Nor is it An American Werewolf in London.  It's not Ginger Snaps or The Lost Boys - and it's not even The Howling.  But it is a fairly decent film with above average acting and some supremely cheesy moments that many fans of the 80's have a sentimental love for.

There does seem to be an unusual amount of graphic violence at times, and more blood than the film really deserves.  Silver Bullet should have absolutely been rated PG, as it just doesn't have the chops to be an R-rated horror film. But with Stephen King penning the screenplay it's my feeling that he amped up the gore and made sure it wouldn't be "just another kid's scary movie".
At this point in time, it seems fairly campy, but that's part of the fun of it.  While I used to think the werewolf special effects were really good, I realize now that they are relatively mediocre. But they are actually not too bad for practical effects for the time, and the plot has a bit of mystery that keeps it interesting till the end.  (But I have to say, for a really cool werewolf, you need to look to The Howling, four years Silver Bullet's junior)

Friday Flashback: Children Of The Corn (1984): HE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS Wants You Too!

Children of the Corn is one of those films I saw during my tender teenage years, and therefore I have fond memories of watching HE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS wreak havoc on poor little Gatlin.
While certainly not the prize apple in the Stephen King adaptation pie, COTC is still a fun and sometimes unintentionally hilarious flick.

That said, it truly is my belief that kids can ruin a horror flick quicker than you can say Chucky.  I tend to steer away from horror movies rife with little ones, as just like in television - when you add kids to the mix, it all goes to shit.  Now I know you parents are pissed at me stating that view, but I'm just being honest.  (Devil-children or other such possessed or evil mini-humans are a different story altogether.  I actually like films in which kids are offing adults, go figure. Probably why Children of the Corn works for me.)

As the film starts, I'm already pissed when I hear a kid doing a voice-over to describe the situation in Gatlin.  I despise voice-overs in most situations, they are a cheap-ass way to move a story along or give details. (*I do however, give a pass to Suspiria, in which a quick voice-over tells you all you need to know in the first five minutes!)

Regardless, Job (Robby Kiger) speaks over a flashback to a horrific event in the past in which the children of Gatlin take it upon themselves to rid the small town of all the adult supervision.  So with scythes and knives and other implements of destruction, the older teens slash, stab, and chop their way into orphandom (Is that a word? It is now.)  Seems the children's leader, Issac (John Franklin), and his lead crony Malachai (Courtney Gains, a hopelessly unattractive soul) are determined that the children in Gatlin follow their uber-religious ideals and their deity of choice: HE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS.  Which is apparently some kind of god of corn or what have you.  The quick analysis is that it's a cult.

Back in the present, Burt (Peter Horton) and Vicky (Linda Hamilton) are traveling through Nebraska to reach the west coast where Burt has accepted a position as a physician in Seattle. (Of particular note is the scene in which a battered copy of King's Night Shift - the book in which Children of the Corn appeared as a short story - is lying on the dash of their car. Nice move.)  When the radio starts to pick up only bible-thumping preachers ("NO room for the fornicators! No room for the homosexuals!"), the couple quickly deduce they're not in Kansas anymore. Matter of fact, they seem to have gotten stuck in the Twilight Zone when every sign they pass is for the town of Gatlin, and the only scenery they witness is giant corn stalks closing in on every road.  Their cross-country adventure takes a dreadful turn when they strike a young boy with their car. Examining the boy, Burt uses his astute medical skills to determine that the boy didn't die of injuries sustained in the car mishap, he had his throat slashed.  After stashing the dead kid in the trunk, they drive around looking for help. 

It's important to know that the boy struck by the car is from quirky, cult-happy Gatlin and was trying to escape the wacky sect, only to be cut off at the pass by followers of Issac, who do not allow any of the children to escape leave town.  When Job and his sister Sarah (Anne Marie McEvoy) are caught playing games and listening to music in one of the abandoned houses, Malachi brings them to Issac, demanding that they be punished.  Isaac lets them off the hook because Sarah has "the gift of sight" and has foretold the coming of "interlopers" who will try to interfere with their way of life.  In their eyes, all adults must die.  Naturally, Burt and Vicky are the interlopers.

When all roads seem to lead back to Gatlin, Burt and Vicky are forced to check out the small town and soon happen upon Job and Sarah in the aforementioned house.  When the couple splits up to try to find an another adult or at least a phone, Vicky is taken by Malachai and hung ceremoniously on a primitive cross - directly in front of the only other adult in town - a very dead police officer dubbed The Blue Man.  Issac's intention is to sacrifice Vicky to HE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS, which pretty much leaves her as valuable as anyone who turns eighteen in the fucked-up hamlet.

Meanwhile Malachai is terribly pissed off at Issac for wasting time continuously preaching and not taking action.  He demands that the other kids string Issac up on the cross instead of Vicky, which is just about the time Burt (along with Job and Sarah) is plotting the big rescue scene.  Suffice it to say, HE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS is hungry and accepts Issac readily.  But we've not seen the last of our creepy, unorthodox leader, oh no....

The climax of Children of the Corn is not exactly earth-shattering.  If you would have told me that HE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS was some kind of fire-demon or whatever the hell they were going for in those last scenes, I probably would have thrown my hands in the air and walked away. 
Hollywood's penchant for happy endings is at work here as well as sadly, the film's ending deviates a great deal from King's short story so that the finale is tied up with a big happy bow. 

The reason I have a special affinity for this movie is probably the time period in which I saw it.  I saw this one in the theater before I was age-appropriate, and I recall some parts of it actually being rather scary, at least back then. Truly, one of my greatest fears would be a bunch of kids killing off adults and trying to play God. Some of the lines from the film I am still using today, such as "Outlander! We have your woman!" and "He wants you too, Malachai! He...wants...you...too!"  Of course I am not using them in every-day sentences, but I am someone who extensively quotes movies, and sometimes you just have to say: "What hath the lord commanded?"