V/H/S (2012): The Anthology Lives!

Review by Marie Robinson

Greetings, darlings! I have been immensely excited for this film since I first heard about it several months ago. I discovered it by looking up director Ti West’s (House of the Devil, The Innkeepers) filmography, eager to see what he was going to come up with next. At the time his next project was an anthology-style film called V/H/S, which sounded awesome, and had a bad-ass trailer. In fact, I believe I mentioned it at the end of my review of The Innkeepers. It became my most anticipated film of the year.

You may know that the film was released On Demand this past week, and although I really wanted to see it on the silver screen when it came to St. Louis in October, I could not pass up the opportunity.

The frame story is about a group of assholes that make money off of videos in the “up-skirt” fashion. One of them (we’ll call him Mustache) says that a guy tipped him off about a video that will cash in for a ridiculous amount of money; all they have to do is steal it from a guy’s house.

When the group arrives at the house and break in they find the owner of the house, an elderly man, dead in his armchair in front of several sets of staticky televisions. Whoever tipped off Mustache told him that they are looking for one specific tape; this man happens to have stacks of them, all unlabeled. The only way they can find “the one” is to watch them.

Each tape was done by a separate director; a list that consists of David Bruckner, Glen McQuaid (I Sell the Dead, Stake Land), Joe Swanberg, Adam Wingard, a group of directors called Radio Silence, and of course, Ti West.

I was SO excited for this movie that I was actually terrified that it was going to disappoint me horribly. Lucky, it was AWESOME!

Seriously, I’m not exaggerating. There are things that could lead you to believe that it is unoriginal. For example, it is a found footage piece and it is the anthology-style, there are dozens of each. However, this film is different from any other film you have experienced. The frame story and each individual “tape” are each completely original and refreshing. Oh, did I mention that this film is fucking scary? Hands down, the most terrifying film I’ve seen all year. I might also add that it is not for the faint of heart; it has gore that “goes there”.

It is stylish, it is clever, and it deserves applause from the horror community. These directors give us hope for the future of the genre, which we need with so many stupid films making money in the mainstream box office (The Apparition and The Possession are two good examples).

Speaking of horror anthologies, I caught wind of another one coming up next month. Called The ABCs of Death, it is a collection of 26 short films, each by a different director, and each film corresponds with a letter in the alphabet.
Obviously each word will be somehow related to horror, what the word may be was left up to the directors, themselves. Ti West is also on board with this one, as well as Adam Wingard, Ben Weatley (director of Kill List), and a directorial debut by beloved genre actress Angela Bettis (favorite of director Lucky McKee).

There is a short trailer/promo thing for it on IMDB, so check that out if you are interested.
It is scheduled to release on September 15th in Canada, October 4th in Russia, and November 2nd in the US (limited).

Lovely Molly (2012): The Slow Burn Returns

From half the team that brought us The Blair Witch Project comes a film that is easily the most unsettling film I've seen so far this year.  Directed by Eduardo Sanchez, Lovely Molly is somewhat of an enigma, as it was rather like several sub-genres of horror working together to present a tense though somewhat melodramatic movie that will leave an impression on the viewer that is hard to shake.  It's got elements of the supernatural which weave into demonic overtones, yet it's a ghostly thriller morphing into drama here and there as well.  And it's downright scary.

Let me get this out of the way first.  Sometimes I tire of horror fans being so hard on films.  Everyone wants things wrapped up in a big bow, tying up all the loose ends and rejoicing in the Disney ending that has everyone slapping each other on the back and guffawing in how wonderfully things worked out.  Ugh.  I like diversity.  I like ambiguous endings. I like characters that endure difficult situations and sometimes don't come out smelling like a rose.
Which is no doubt why I thoroughly enjoyed Lovely Molly.

When Molly (Gretchen Lodge) and Tim (Johnny Lewis, whom I recognized from Sons of Anarchy) move into her childhood home out in the country (I've yet to understand why on earth  people move into their family's old country house/estate when there are horrific memories of something awful that happened either at the house or to the people that live there...or both.  But time and time again, it happens.) it's quickly made known that Molly has had some issues.  With her dad.  With drugs. And evidently with her mind. But she's freshly married and starting a new life!  Ahem...then why would she move back to the likely source of her past undoing?  Maybe it was free? Yeah, we'll go with that.  People that are not rolling in dough oft make impulsive decisions that backfire miserably. We've all been there, right?

Almost immediately, things start to happen to rattle Molly.  Because Tim is a truck driver and spends days at a time away from home, he has an alarm system installed which promptly goes off in the middle of the night.
After calling the police to come investigate, they find nothing amiss except the back door hanging open.  While nothing comes of that incident, once Tim leaves Molly begins to experience things in the house. Voices that seem to be calling her name, odd sounds (was that a horse snorting?), and shadows that draw her to explore places like the basement and the old stables.  Her father's den seems to be an especially sore spot for Molly, yet she pays particular attention to it, staring at the many photos of horses and her father around the room.  Enticed to open a closet door in her old bedroom after hearing a child's voice crying, the film cuts as she starts to go inside - and this is when all bets are off. 

Molly's sister Hannah (Alexandra Holden) fears that her sister might be back on drugs when Molly swears to her that their father is still alive. Previous to this, she has in fact enabled Molly's nasty habit by giving her a joint or two on her birthday when Tim was away.  Hannah not only knows for a fact that their father is not still alive, (as we soon find out that she is the one who killed him), but has serious reservations about Molly being back in this house where she can be reminded of "whatever" happened between Molly and their dad. Perhaps he was sexually assaulting Molly?  That information is inferred but never truly spoken of outright.  Again, why she would move into this house (and why Tim would even want to, knowing how much pain it caused his wife) is beyond me.  But it makes for good scares.

Molly's fears escalate as she fears someone - her father? - is following her every move.  She starts to slack off at work and act extremely peculiar.  She is disheveled and cocky, pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable.  There is a scene that comes off in a very "The Entity"-kind of way, where an unseen assailant is violently raping Molly at the end of a hallway.  And for some reason, Molly likes to hang out naked a lot.  A scene where Tim comes home from work and finds her sitting naked on a bed staring at the wall is disconcerting. 

The film does have a bit of serious violence and a touch or two of gore.  There are some scenes with Molly interacting with the local minister and one with a deer in the basement (yep, you read that right) that beg an explanation - but don't be thinking that you're actually going to get one.  Molly also takes to following a woman and a young child around for some reason, filming them at random. There is a lot to be confused about here, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  As I stated, I like a little ambiguity with my scares.  I won't say Lovely Molly was frightening, in the way that oh say....The Shining was frightening.  Lovely Molly has more of an agitating haze over it.  

There is also some hand-held camera work here.  But don't let that dissuade you.  It's not like Paranormal Activity or Sanchez's claim to fame, The Blair Witch Project.  The hand-held scenes are for dramatic effect only.  The very first scene is a very distraught Molly, speaking into a camera about how something wasn't her fault. It sets the tone for the rest of the film, making the viewer aware that it's not your average horror movie.

I, for one, thought Gretchen Lodge as Molly was a total revelation.  She absolutely owns the part, baring her soul (and everything else!) and digging down deep to give one of the best performances in a horror film in quite a few years, if I'm being honest.  She was so utterly believable, so honest and authentic that I simply can't wait to see what she does next.  She transforms the film from average to distinctively interesting.

There are some disturbing visuals in this movie, and the last ten minutes are no doubt the creepiest in the whole film.  They will certainly have you wondering if Molly is simply depressed and faltering in her surroundings, back to being a raving addict, possessed by a demonic entity, or simply psychotic - in the worst possible way. 

And like I mentioned previously, if you like things to end with all your ducks in a row, you'll be pretty pissed off.  But if you're like me and things can go haywire and end abruptly, you'll be smiling while you scratch your head -  because the best part of this film is trying to decide what might have been going on - and what happened next.  The truth in layman's terms:  Do yourself a favor and see this creepy film, stat.

Eden Lake (2008) : Tell Me Again Why We Didn't Go To Paris?

Written and directed by James Watkins (The Woman in Black, 2012) and produced by the makers of The Descent, Eden Lake is a smart yet disturbing tale of romantic weekend plans gone completely awry.

Jenny (Kelly Reilly) and Steve (Michael Fassbender, before he was MICHAEL FASSBENDER!) are a couple very much in love who are off for a weekend holiday of camping at an off-the-beaten-path lake.  Steve even has the engagement ring in his pocket, awaiting the perfect moment. As they journey by Jeep through the rugged woods to their destination, they nearly wreck into a gang of teenage delinquents on bicycles. Averting that disaster, they once again encounter the hoodlums when they are settling in for a lakeside afternoon on the beach.  The gang makes it a point to blare their rap music at full blast as they party obnoxiously, and their Rottweiler continually makes his way down the beach to the couple's campsite, barking threateningly.  The duo tries to endure the group's mischief and manages to make it through the night.

As morning comes, Steve and Jenny find that their food has been infested with bugs so they decide to make their way to town to look for somewhere to chow.  Steve runs over a bottle that was purposely left under his tire and hastily fixes the tire, cursing that someone needs to reprimand the brats.  They try out the local diner and ask their waitress if she has seen the gang of kids on bikes, admitting to her that they have been harassed by them.  Unfortunately the waitress is one of the kid's mother. Oops! (I might have waited until after lunch before mentioning the gang. Pretty sure they got some spit with their eggs that day.)

Driving back to the campsite (which I wouldn't have even bothered to go back to at this point!), Steve notices the gang's bikes outside a house.  He stupidly checks it out, letting himself into the house.  While searching around, a father of one of the kids shows up and this forces Steve to hide, then dangerously leave through a window and slide down the roof from upstairs, only to jump a fence and run back to the jeep, just missing the wrath of the pissed off Dad, who has been shouting for his son since he walked in the door.  (Now really, isn't it time to hit the road and get out of Dodge? But noooooooo!)

Back at the beach (!), Steve decides to go snorkeling while Jenny takes a nap. (As if I would be able to sleep, knowing those assholes are around somewhere!).  When he heads back to shore, they notice their gear bag is gone.  As are Steve's wallet, cell phone, and car keys.  Uh-oh.  Naturally, when they return to where the Jeep was parked, it is missing.  Soon they are being chased menacingly by the group. 

After searching for awhile, they finally come across the gang hanging out at a campsite and Steve commands their apparent leader Brett (Jack O'Connell) to give back his things.  When Brett produces a knife, he and Steve begin to brawl and somehow in the scuffle Steve accidentally stabs the dog, mortally wounding him.  Brett loses his mind and when Steve and Jenny secure the keys and drive off in the Jeep, he and the rest of the gang chase them on their bikes.

As in every movie like this, Steve somehow manages to wreck the Jeep, getting himself stuck in the car. Jenny is able to escape and she runs off to get help.  She hides in the woods until daylight (so much for going to get help!) and returns to find Steve gone.  She hears a commotion and follows the voices to a clearing where she sees them torturing Steve, who is tied up with barbed wire.  The boys take turn stabbing Steve while Paige (the lone girl in the group) videos it with her phone.  (It should be mentioned that not everyone in this gang of punks are willing accomplices, and in fact in many instances some seem to want to run - until Brett forces their compliance by filming them all taking an active role in mangling and tormenting Steve.)

When Jenny is spotted, the gang takes off after her on bikes, which allows Steve to get away. He's lost a great deal of blood though, so when Jenny finally finds him she does some makeshift first-aid and they plot together to try to get out of the mess they are in.  And it's a chaotic and horrific mess, to say the least. Suffice it to say, Steve will have difficulty finding that 'perfect moment' to propose.

Eden Lake is a visceral, nasty-ass film that holds nothing back and yet seems entirely possible. There are no monsters in the traditional sense - no aliens, no ghosts, nothing supernatural.  It's just man against man in the most primal sense of the word. While Steve and Jenny would seem to have the upper hand, because they are adults, have a car, and most importantly - have the opportunity (several of them, actually) to just leave and write it off as a weekend from hell, they unfortunately drop the ball not once, not twice, but several times - allowing their younger counterparts to use their knowledge of the territory in which they live to their benefit, which it turns out is the greatest advantage of all. 

Whether or not Steve and Jenny make it out of the woods intact and are able to salvage their weekend (and their lives) is not for me to tattle here, for I don't think telling the ending is the best way to close this post.
But I will say that this is a truly frightening and tense film, one that I really enjoyed.  The acting is excellent, though the British accent of the lead bully Brett can sometimes be hard to understand.  He speaks quickly, and if you're not from in country it might be difficult to hear everything.  My husband kept saying "what did he say?" - so I know it wasn't just me.  But what we lose in translation is made up by the gritty performance he puts in as the cruel and sadistic villain here.

Obviously Watkins is a director to watch, though I find it curious that something as ferocious as Eden Lake was his first film, and his second turns out to be this year's remake of The Woman in Black, a classic English ghost story. Seems unlikely, yet it could prove that he is a man of many talents, and it will be interesting to see where he goes from here. 

All in all, I would have to recommend Eden Lake very enthusiastically.  It's not every day that a film can get this 'terrorizing-a-loving-couple' formula even half-way decent, so to have something of this caliber come along is a real treat.  The only films of late that I find to be on equal footing are perhaps The Strangers (2008) and Them (Ils, 2006)
If you haven't seen Eden Lake yet, don't be afraid to check it out.  You'll thank me later.

Mindless Movie Monday: The Pack (2010)

Review by Marie Robinson

Greetings, my ghastly readers! I have been slacking my bum off lately because I just started school up again. I hope you haven’t taken my absence the wrong way.

Just yesterday I watched a French film—The Pack (la Muete)—hailing from 2010. I was kind of going for a mediocre, easy-to-digest film at the time and this little eighty-four minute flick suited my mood perfectly.

It starts off with our protagonist, Charlotte (Emilie Dequenne), a pretty but angsty young woman cruising down the road. Her plan is to drive until the sun goes down and her stack of heavy metal CDs run out. She is being tailed by three extremely unsavory motorcyclists, one on them a presumed ex-love. To avoid them, she pulls over to pick up a hitchhiker (Benjamin Biolay). I don’t know how things are in France, but I have always had the common sense not to pick up strangers off the side of the road, especially when you are a lonesome female. Anyway, she thinks this is a good idea and takes off with the quiet, dark-haired, nameless boy.

Darling Charlotte seems to be toting this “bad-ass, chain-smoking, don’t-give-a-fuck” attitude, traits that I would usually like in a woman, but goddamit she will not stop making stupid decisions. I mean REALLY stupid. As fatigue sets in on the long drive, she decides to take a little napsy-poo in the passenger seat and let Stranger Danger McGee drive! I mean, I’m sure that’s what any of us would do, right? NO!!!

Tall, dark, and creepy drives them up to a small backwoods saloon called La Spack. Charlotte and the hitchhiker settle in and have a cup of coffee, a couple packs of cigarettes (seriously, these two never stop smoking); they’re tellin’ some jokes, havin’ a great time, and guess who shows up.

Oh, you already know it’s those biker douche bags, come to start some trouble. As some sort of fight/rape is about to ensue, La Spack, herself (Yolande Moreau, who I recognized instantly from Amelie), appears with a rifle and chases the bikers out of the place. Charlotte sits down to collect herself while hitchhiker goes to the restroom. 

After several moments pass and stranger boy has not returned, Charlotte goes to investigate. She doesn’t find the boy, but she does find a mysterious door that has been covered over with wallpaper. When she asks La Spack about the door, the woman simply answers that it has always been locked up.

When night falls, Charlotte returns to the saloon, breaking in to unlock the covered door. She succeeds in opening it, but is unable to explore her findings because she gets a two-by-four cracked over her head.

This girl… she is just so dumb! I’m not saying that she deserves to wake up in a basement, in a cage, imprisoned by La Spack and her son—the hitchhiker, but come on, what was this chick thinking. I guess she was just trying to be nice, seeing if little hitchhiker (Who’s name is Max, by the way) was okay…

This movie was entertaining enough, original enough, but it wasn’t anything special. Granted, it is writer/director Frank Richard’s first and so far only film.
The character development is unsteady and confusing; one minute someone is good, the next someone is bad. The action and suspense lacks grip, the soundtrack is terrible, and there are countless plot holes. It is no surprise we didn’t hear any Oscar buzz about The Pack, but it is a film that you can pop on if you are killing some time, or brain cells; no thought required.

Duh! I forgot to mention the pack, itself. When you hear that phrasing, the first thing you probably think of is werewolves—but that is not the case in this film. It actually refers to these blind, pale, fully clothed ghouls that live in the dirt and rise only to feed on human flesh. They look to me like a cross between the cave dwellers in The Descent and the Pale Man from Pan’s Labyrinth. Sounds cute, right?

This little jewel is streaming on Netflix!

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Hellraiser

The Blood Splattered Bride

Piranha ('78)

Premutos: The Fallen Angel

The Sentinel

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)

The Birthday 44 - My Personal Path To Horror, Part Two

Here's part two of my journey to horror.  This got a bit long-winded in parts. But I won't apologize because you'll either read it or you won't.  Missed part one? Click here.

Onward:

 23) The Woman in Black. Not just the book.  Not only the movie.  All of it.  Every version. It is the STORY. So frightening.  I read this book in my early twenties and thought at first that it was written back in the early 1900's.  It has the classic feel of an M.R. James story.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was written in 1983! Susan Hill has crafted such a legitimate tale of dread and terror that I've yet to find something I enjoy more. Simply put, it is my favorite ghost story. 

24) Marble Hornets:  A prime example of what the internet can do to you. Experience it.
Marble Hornets is a found footage-type of internet series that you can find easily on YouTube.  In it, a narrator tells the story of his friend Alex, who while filming his first film project (aptly titled Marble Hornets), seems to become more and more paranoid. He is convinced someone (later known as Slender Man) is following him and that he is in danger.  The film idea seems to fly out the window and Alex starts filming himself almost exclusively to try and get footage of the enigmatic Slender Man.  All I will say is that this simple online series scared the utter bejesus out of me.  Don't watch it before you settle in for the night's sleep.  Consider yourself warned.

25) My grandparents basement.  As a kid, I lived in the parsonage (which is another word for the house that the minister lives in, usually beside the church) with my mom and grandparents until my mom remarried when I was seven.  My grandparents also babysat me until I was old enough to be home alone - so I have a vast set of memories from their house.  And their fucking terrifying basement. For one thing, it had a fruit cellar.
A FRUIT CELLAR!! Hello, Norman Bates! Welcome home Mother!  Obviously I hadn't seen Psycho yet at that age but can totally understand now why it scared the shit out of me.  The fruit cellar smelled like dirt and had a single bare bulb dangling on a string.  The basement also had a primitive bathroom - just a toilet sitting in a wooden stall with a door on it. Good god almighty it had me wigging out every time I had to go down there. And going down the steps was a fright because there was no back on the steps - anyone could grab your feet from under the steps!  But worst of all, it had a huge clawfoot table that had dragons (well, they looked like dragons) carved into them. It was a dusty red color and I could swear the eyes of those dragons were staring at me.
Eeep! I can't even talk about it anymore.

26) M.R. James - "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad": A brilliant and scholarly Englishman, Montague Rhodes James wrote an unbelievable collection of ghost stories that are truly some of the scariest tales you will ever read.  My most favorite is the above mentioned story, and follows his usual strategy of an ordinary man put in an extraordinary and supernatural circumstance. I could write about James and his chilling works for ages.  So I'll stop here and hope that this prompts others to discover him and his fabulously spooky tales.

27) Vincent Price:  Saturday afternoons with The Pit & The Pendulum, The Masque of the Red Death, and Theatre of Blood.  Too many more to mention. Vincent Price entertained my mother and I for hours at a time with those old Castle & Corman flicks.  It really was my first introduction to Edgar Allan Poe, too.  And once I learned how many of Price's films were adaptations from the writings of Poe, I had to start reading the original stories. I still have a very special place in my heart for Vincent Price. I feel like he was my tutor, my guide into the world of horror.  And I thank him.

28) Black & White horror:  Carnival of Souls. Night of the Living Dead.  Black Sunday. Freaks. Psycho.
Some of my favorite horror films ever are not even in color. There is something that makes me pause when I am channel-surfing and land on an older movie like that.  Probably my first horror film in black and white was Night of the Living Dead.  Being from the Pittsburgh area meant there was no escaping that film, and I remember well watching it on Chiller Theater late Saturday nights with our host, Chilly Billy Cardille. Ah, those were the days.  But even now, black and white is one of my favorite ways to experience horror. Look how awesome those black and white scenes are from Blair Witch...

29) Horse Camp (tent camping) - As a young girl and into my teens, I used to go to a church camp for a week or two every summer.  Besides the obvious religious overtones, there was a theme.  Some kids went to White Water Rafting camp, some went to Explorer's Camp. I went to Horse camp. (See, I've always loved horses, since I was a little wee one.)  When I was in high school, campers slept in well-appointed cabins, but when I was in elementary school, campers slept in tents.  For a week.  In the woods. Granted, they were fairly big tents - slept around 8 kids and one counselor.  But hot damn it was scary!  I recall one summer night we had a horrific thunderstorm - and when you're eight, that is a major deal.  It was creepy as hell in those tents. But deep down, I liked being scared.

30) Willy Wonka / The Wizard of Oz:  Nasty stuff indeed for impressionable young children such as myself. Funny enough, what scared me the most in The Wizard of Oz wasn't the Wicked Witch of the West, or even Ms. Gulch...it was that freaking twister!  (That twister that was made with a muslin sock and some dirt...) Probably why I have such a thing for extreme weather now.  As for Wonka, I was particularly unnerved by the boat ride down the chocolate river.  Think ol' Wonka was tripping on acid a bit...
These two films scared me enough as a kid to realize I enjoyed the tense feeling.

31) The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew:  As a pre-teen, I read every Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew book that was written.  Did you know they first appeared in 1927?  They were a mystery series written by many different writers but under the pseudonyms of Franklin Dixon and Carolyn Keene.  Those books sharpened my crime-busting skills and kept my nose in a book for most of my childhood.  With titles like The Secret of the Old Clock and The Mystery of Cabin Island, you knew you were in for a spooky adventure.  Until I graduated to Stephen King and Agatha Christie, the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew mysteries kept this girl's time occupied for countless hours.

32) Vampires: I've always had a soft spot for the fanged wonders.  From reading Dracula as a kid, to True Blood today, I just cannot get enough vampires.  For several years, I only read vampire fiction.  I've since broadened my horizons, but I still prefer a little toothy adventure sometimes.  Vampires are nasty. Vampires are sensual.  They can rip your throat out or dazzle you with their Colgate smile.  They will always be my favorite monster, and my fave horror sub-genre.  Thank you Bram Stoker, for bringing these creatures into the mainstream where they have thrived for so long.

33) The Bible:  Yes. "The" Book. I was raised in the house of a Methodist preacher and was taught all those bible stories as a youngster. I always gravitated towards the scarier elements, like when Jonah was swallowed by the whale and lived to tell the tale. Think that one got me prepared for Jaws. Then there was Lazarus - raised from the dead! A probably precursor to my love for vampires? Or maybe Night of the Living Dead?  And oh my! Jesus being crucified? What is up with these Romans!? And don't even get me started on the book of Revelations.

34) Lucio Fulci and Eye Trauma:  (From the Bible to Fulci.  Don't see that too often.) Nothing bothers me more than something oogy happening to the eyes. That scene from Hostel where he cuts her eyeball and all that goop comes out?  Bad, but still not as gruesome as my pal Fulci's penchant for all things optical messiness. In The Beyond we get eye-eating spiders, in Zombi 2 we get a splinter piercing the eye, in The New York Ripper a guy cuts a woman's eyeball with a razor blade, in City of the Living Dead we get bleeding eyes...even in Fulci's historical Beatrice Cenci we get a spike drove through the eye...
So picture me as a fourteen year-old, getting my first taste of serious gore - and it had to be eye trauma.

35) Ozzy Osbourne.  I should add Black Sabbath in general here.  When I was thirteen, I went through a stage where I listened to Ozzy and Black Sabbath continuously.  I'm sure it had something to do with me being a minister's granddaughter and trying to get out from under that stigma, but I just wanted to go dark. Listening to the lyrics of some of those songs made me want to kill myself  made me more interested in things I knew nothing about. Dark things. When you added in music from the likes of Kiss, AC/DC, and Alice Cooper, I liked being the bad-ass.  While my friends were listening to The Go-Go's and Rick Springfield, I was listening to Diary of a Madman for the 300th time. Nowadays this wouldn't even be considered "dark" music but back in the day parents cringed and prayed for their child's soul if he was listening to Blizzard of Oz...

36) Twin Peaks:  I've rambled on and on about this cult favorite here on the blog and elsewhere.  The very first night I sat down to experience Twin Peaks, I remember I couldn't wait to see episode two. It was a truly quirky yet atmospheric television show. The deep, dark woods of the Pacific Northwest took center stage and proved the perfect backdrop for an underlying evil that permeated every pore of the infamous logging town.  All it took for me was a single stoplight, blowing in the wind as Angelo Badalamenti's haunting score set the scene...I was hooked.  If only it had been on HBO - I believe it would have had several seasons. I still miss it.

37) Disney films - So many villains, so little time.  My favorite was Maleficent, the evil antagonist from Sleeping Beauty.  Not only is she the most bad-ass of the villains, she can turn into a goddamned bitchin' dragon. Now tell me - how cool is that?  As a sensitive youngster, I was fairly terrified of her - and still am to this day.  Cruella de Vil ain't got nothin' on Maleficent. Nor does the old hag from Snow White or the horrible step-mother and step-sisters from Cinderella. Maleficent even goes as far as to say that she will unleash "all the powers of Hell" to stop Sleeping Beauty's true love (a prince, natch) from finding her. You know, that's some pretty heavy stuff for a Disney film.  I mean, telling kids about Hell at that age?  So many of the Disney films have extremely dark premises. Kids love 'em, parents love that their kids love 'em, and so scores of children experience evil - unintentionally, but it's there nonetheless.

38)  The Blair Witch Project:  One of the most successful independent films of all time, Blair Witch is such an exceptionally simple premise, but packed a punch and terrified millions of people 'round the world. Three twenty-somethings head into the woods, prompted by a local legend of a child-killer who murdered seven children and claimed that a witch that lives in the woods forced him to do it.  The trio head off to look for the witch and get lost in the woods.  The last five minutes of this movie caused me not to sleep for probably three weeks. Once you've seen it, the thrill is gone and it's not the same the second time around. But that first viewing - it's burned on my brain for all eternity.  I can still close my eyes and see that last scene.  I will never forget this movie.

39) Grimms' Fairy Tales:  1812.  The stories collected by the Grimm brothers were some of my first bedtime stories. Yep, my family was warped.  Can you imagine telling your child the story of an evil witch who lived in the forest and lured children to her cottage so she could EAT them?  Cannibalism? Really? Or how about Rapunzel, where a teenager was locked away in a tower so no boys would have sex with her one would find her.  Or Snow White, who was ordered to be killed by her evil step-mother, poisoned by an apple, and put in a glass coffin?  All of the tales originated in Germany, which perhaps explains a lot. I too, am half German - which perhaps explains a lot as well.

40) J-Horror: The captivating sub-genre of J-Horror is just that.  Japanese horror films. Most of them have been remade into Americanized versions, and some have been done well (i.e. The Ring, The Grudge), but the original versions are almost always superior.  Ringu is a chilling example of J-Horror done well. If you're not affected by seeing this movie, you're either lying or full of shit.  Dark Water, Kwaidan, Ju-On, and Premonition are all really effective as well. They are creepy, unnerving, and if you've only seen the American remakes of these films, you are missing out.

41) The X-Files:  The truth is out there:  I wholeheartedly miss The X-Files.  I was a die-hard from episode one.  I recall it not being very popular when it started out, seemed like a show that no one was watching.  But I was.  More a fan of the stand-alone episodes (like Home, Squeeze, and Irresistible) than the conspiracy episodes.  But the mythology of The X-Files is what drove the show to multiple awards and a huge fan following for nine seasons and two films.  It left a huge imprint on me and I've never found another show that meant as much to me. Still waiting....

42) Cornfields:  Combined with alcohol and the company of my ghost-hunting pals in high school, cornfields are pretty fucking scary. I went to the theater in 1984 to see Children of the Corn, and could never get those images of Malachai and Issac out of my head.  We used to run through the fields in the dead of night, trying to purposely get lost and scare the crap out of each other. We were obnoxious and stupid and probably ruined our fair share of crops, but it was scary as hell and we loved it.  I even went as far as to spend the night in a cornfield with a couple friends.  Issac never showed up, but the morning dew did and we got soaked through and through.
My niece Alaina already loves cornfields, as you can see!

43) True Blood: I already prattled on about my love of vampires. But as a die-hard horror fan, True Blood is like my catnip.  I'd already read Charlaine Harris's Southern Vampire series of books about the goings on in Bon Temps, but to have Sookie, Bill, Eric, and (thank you Alan Ball) Alcide brought to life has just about made my life.  Season 5 has just concluded and I am more anxious than ever to find out what is going to happen to all the vamps, werewolves, shifters - heck, even the fae - next season.  The show is campy good fun, and no one - I mean NO ONE - can make a vampire death as much fun as True Blood does.  Splat! doesn't even cover it.  Just awesome stuff. Long live True Blood.

44)  The Shining:  There's no getting around it. The Shining is one of my biggest influences in my horror existence.  I love the Stephen King novel (it's my second favorite novel, next to Straub's Ghost Story), but here I am talking about the Kubrick film.  There are so many wonderfully spooky images in this movie - and even with Jack Nicholson's suppposed over-the-top performance (I for one, LOVE it), it still stands as one of the best horror films of all time. 
I have loved it since the first time I saw it, and watch it at least two or three times annually. It is just the true definition of horror, and it scares me to death. What a great feeling!

*Thanks for reading part two.  At this point I'm glad I only turned 44.  I don't think I could have done it if I were 60.