Broody Seeds

HEY! I'M TALKING TO YOU!

Just wanted to send out a friendly reminder that I also host a podcast. And more importantly, this week, I host a podcast about The Brood and The Bad Seed. Listen via iTunes or whatever fancy dancy technology you use. 

Bottoms up!

The Curse of the Shortening

Thwarted, once again. 

Let me tell you folks, I had some grand big but-not-in-a-vertical-way plans for this month, yet once again, the hustle and bustle of the real world (minus Puck) reared its head to complicate my February coverage.

Also, there was a kitten.

No, concerned Animal Hoarders viewers with the call-in number on speed dial, I did not bring this adorable little feline into the already crowded 4-cats, 2-people apartment I call home. But I did find this little fella squatting in my apartment building hallway on a cold winter's night, which led to a few days of converting my bathroom into a highly secure foster home undetectable to the rest of the brood. Perhaps it was fitting that my real-life February would be crashed by a tiny yet mighty creature. But it was still a tad inconvenient.

Also, I won't lie (mostly for fear of being karmically repaid/punished in the style of last year's most terrifying February entry, Roberto Benigni's Pinocchio): I like the Olympics. A. Lot.

Sochi strays, opening pomp, Bob Costas' eyeballs bravely fighting a losing battle to that smarmy and sneaky Matt Lauer and his presumed conjunctivitis planting, and most of all, A TERRIFYINGLY ICY RUSSIAN PRODIGY DOUBLE AXELING WITHOUT IRONY TO THE THEME FROM SCHINDLER'S LIST.

Not to mention the glory of Pairs fashion, shockingly outdoing the typically Vogue: Slovakia caliber of Ice Dancing dresses.

Anyway, my point is that I just didn't get to go the distance I was hoping for this month, but that's what fellow bloggers are for!  Thankfully, good pal Elwood Jones of From the Depths of DVD Hell picked up some slack with a few Shortening-minded reviews. Check 'em out!

Orphan
Curse of Chucky
Piranha 3DD
The Brood

Want more? Head on yonder to Pearce's Horror Movie Reviews for his thoughts on one of the hallmarks of '80s Shortenings, Ghoulies. Because you can never have too much of a little thing!

As always, we'll be back shortly with some less specially small tales of horror. Until then, stand tall!

Did I Kill Davy Jones? Also, Thus End'th The Shortening

As we say goodbye to 2012's 2nd Annual Attack of the Vertically Challenged Villains: The Shortening, it brings me incredible sadness to mourn the passing of my very first crush and perennial petite powerhouse, Monkees lead singer Davy Jones.

Growing up in the late '80s, I fell in love with basic cable's reruns of their comedy show, so much so that I used my very first tin of push pins to hang posters of Davy's sparkling eyes on my bedroom walls. Two years ago, I blushed my way through meeting him at New Jersey's Chiller Theater convention where I was excited to discover he was still good-looking AND a good inch and a half taller than me.

While there, I bought a fan club worthy autographed 8x10 glamor shot that still proudly hangs over my toilet, meaning Mr. Jones will forever watch over those who do their bodily business in my apartment.

Davy Jones passed away on Leap Day. As far as I'm concerned, that implies we only have to acknowledge the fact that he died every four years and therefore can go back to daydream believing him back into existence for the other three. That's how the system works and I'm sticking to it.

It's a fitting, solemn end to 2012's Shortening, though personally, I'm a tad disturbed. See, just two weeks ago, I also had to mourn the passing of a celebrity I harbored serious romantic feelings for throughout my elementary school years: former Mets catcher and baseball Hall of Famer Gary Carter, who succumbed to brain cancer on February 16th. If I could have been an underage polygamist in a highly experimental tribe, you can bet a few leprechauns that I would have been Mrs. Emily Intravia-Carter-Jones. It worries me to see the highlights of my youth taken before their time. Now let us lend kind thoughts and extra bodyguards to other notable entries in my imaginary lovebook, including fellow vertically challenged superstars Rick Moranis and Martin Short.

On the sunnier side, we have one last round of Shortening sharing! Thanks and cuddles to the following bloggers who tackled some vertically challenged villains and lived to write about it:


Over at Cinema Gonzo, sir Thomas Duke headed back to the swinging '60s for the oddball little person horror, Curse of the Doll People. Find it in its glory this way

Also on a Mexican trek was Ms. Mermaid Heather, who opened up the toy chest for a review of Dolly Dearest and thusly conquered both The Shortening and Women In Horror Month:

The cool as an air conditioned space Elwood Jones headed up north for one of my personal favorites, David Cronenberg's extra gooey The Brood. Go have a taste.

Dare you forget T.L. Bugg's swap duty covering 2008's killer kids in a winter wonderland classic, The Children. It might not be a fair fight for poor Darby O'Gill's leprechaun army, but the Bugg still does it right.

Finally, though I failed to find a proper doll flick for this month's festivities, the Direct to Video Connoisseur came to the rescue with pristine coverage of Puppet Master 2 and the quick cut-and-paste job (of the movie; not the review) for Dollman vs. Demonic Toys.

As we march on through March, there are glimmers of hope: HorrorHound Weekend's biannual snugglefest, a hopeful Leprechaun marathon on the SyFy Channel, the return of Community, the quest to snag a green milkshake in the Bronx that's supposed to be that way. Will anything top little people conning men out of their souls, shrunken men fighting tarantulas, Mickey Rooney encouraging child labor, or Harry Potter trying to out-act creepy monkey dolls? It's hard to say but I take comfort in knowing we will always have 2012's Shortening, and more importantly, Davy Jones will always watch my houseguests pee.

Let the Sunshine In. Then Die.

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

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

In rough chronological order:

1. The Wicker Man

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

2. I Spit On Your Grave

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

3. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

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

4. Jaws

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

5. The Brood

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

6. Friday the 13th

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

7. The Burning

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

8. Day of the Dead

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

9. The Devil’s Rejects

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

10. Dawn of the Dead

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

11. All the Boys Love Mandy Lane

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

12. The Strangers

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

13. 28 Weeks Later

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

14. The Ruins

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

15. Carriers

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

and a few Honorable Mentions via some fine folks on Twitter

Cabin Fever

The Crazies

Drag Me to Hell

Let the Right One In

Martyrs

Picnic At Hanging Rock

Rosemary’s Baby

plus & Recommendations I Haven’t Seen:

And Soon the Darkness

The Children

Curtains

Dead Snow

Mother, Can You Spare Some Blood?

In case you have forgotten, Mother's Day is quickly approaching. Before you rush off to make those brunch reservations, take this quiz to get a better understanding of just what kind of parent you have, what to get her this Sunday, and what all of this might mean for your personal safety. 

1. On your 5th birthday, your mother bought you:

a) a gift certificate for free anger management classes

b) a dress-up kit, complete with wig

c) a silver crucifix, which you promptly melted using your yellow eyes

d) nothing. Counting is too hard

2. In your baby photos, your mother is typically:

a) absent

b) holding you wayyyyy too close

c) staring frightfully ahead with dead eyes

d) chewing on your leg

3. You run into the house crying with a skinned knee. Her reaction is to:

a) lick the fluid oozing from the wound

b) amputate what she can and stuff the limb to put on prominent display

c) cry

d) shrug. What do you expect when you sprint on rocky terrain?

4. At the local PTA meeting, your mother is most likely to:

a) supervise her minions as they bludgeon your teacher to death

b) stay home. How could she possibly leave you there all by yourself?

c) brag about your performance in the school play

d) school?

5. Mom’s going out for the night. Your usual babysitter is:

a) a grumpy British psychotherapist

b) your mother. She’s a table-for-three kind of dame

c) the elderly neighbors across the hall

d) your own survival instincts

6. You’ve misbehaved. As punishment, you might receive:

a) death at the hands of your trollish half siblings. After all, you’re incredibly easy to replace.

b) shrill nagging

c) an exorcism

d) a cheerful pat on the back, or shackles

7. When it comes to bonding with your mother, the best shared passion is:

a) pure hatred

b) absolutely anything

c) Scrabble

d) hunting

8. Her style icon is:

a) Joni Mitchell

b) Julia Child

c) Florence Henderson

d) Raquel Welch circa One Million Years B.C.

If you answered...

Mostly A’s

Your mother is: Nola  Carveth (The Brood)

The Good News: Your emotions may have the power to manifest themselves into creepy little dopplegangers that do your bidding.

The Bad News: Your safety and sanity is questionable. 

The Bottom Line: You hail from a second generation broken home, so you should certainly be wary of letting history repeat itself with the wrong partner. Your more immediate concern, however, involves staying alive long enough to legally emancipate yourself from your rage-enhanced mother before she unleashes her Cronenbergian spawn on your ungrateful butt. Luckily, your dad seems like a genuinely nice guy, so catch the next flight to Canada and start readjusting. 

Best Mother’s Day gift: A stress ball

Mostly B's: Your mother is: Mrs. Bates (Psycho)

The Good News: You’ll never be alone.

The Bad News: You’ll never be alone.

The Bottom Line:You were a lonely child and as a result, you have developed an unhealthy eagerness to please and/or connect with others. Romantic relationships have proved to be something of a challenge, as your Oedipal desires have complicated your taste in the opposite (or same) sex. The best thing you can do for yourself is to make a clean break. Start fresh. Relocate. It’s never too late to become a new man (or woman).

Best Mother’s Day gift: it doesn’t matter; nothing is ever good enough.

Mostly C’s

Your Mother is: Rosemary Woodhouse (Rosemary’s Baby)

The Good News: She has great taste in real estate

The Bad News: She’s kind of an emotional mess

The Bottom Line: You grew up surrounded by a solid network of older and financially successful guardians, but that may have left you spoiled and harboring an unearned sense of entitlement, particularly since your mother never seemed to know just how to handle you. Her instincts were usually on target, but she’s easily influenced by those with more force--including, unfortunately, your emotionally absent father. It’s up to you to find your true inner self, but always take comfort in knowing that your mother loves you, even if you are sometimes a lil devil.

Best Mother’s Day gift: valium 

Mostly D’s

Your mother is: Mama (The Hills Have Eyes)

The Good News: Despite her limited physicality, she did stress the importance of exercise and the outdoors

The Bad News: She didn’t let you play well with others.

The Bottom Line: Discipline was never a priority for your parents--particularly your cave-ridden mom, who encouraged you to stay out past curfew if it meant you’d be bringing home the bacon (or baby). You may have built up some unrecognized resentment towards the lax parenting (especially when combined with the border limits imposed) so it’s time to start building a solid foundation. You need a little more stability in your life, relationships, and diet. And vegetables. Apply for a job. Get your associate’s degree, find an apartment, and adopt a dog. Wait, forget the last part. Just start with a plant.

Best Mother's Day gift: Duh, a meaty little puppy

ArachnaCronenberg-ia!

David Cronenberg is probably my favorite director, yet it embarrasses me to admit that I don’t own a single one of his films on DVD. For the most part, I’ll blame the economy (because everyone else is doing it and I hate to feel left out). Since his releases are often double discs or even Criterion editions, I usually have trouble finding them for under $25 (and when your video library includes 200 titles that rang in at $30, justification is rather difficult). On the flip side, his lesser celebrated (but not by me) films like The Brood are bare bones releases, yet because of their general unavailability, rarely clock in under $15.


Perhaps I can compare it to how I feel about upscale Chinese restaurants; why pay $20 for a smaller serving of sesame chicken when I can order a lunch special double the size, a quarter of the price and get extra fortune cookies upon request? Okay, with the exception of one scene in eXistenZ, there is no actual link between David Cronenberg and my tastes in Asian cuisine, but I did just order takeout. Emily’s stomach will stop blogging now.

There’s another reason though, for the Canadian vacuum in my DVD collection. I tend to buy films with rewatchablility. I can turn on Basket Case or Dawn of the Dead while washing dishes, matching my orphan socks, or cooking (i.e., microwaving leftover Chines takeout), but Cronenberg’s works always require far more energy. There’s rarely a feel-good moment to be found, and as much as I love doublemint Jeremy Irons, randomly looking up from my computer at Dead Ringers gynecology amok scenes are less than entertaining when I just want to play Boggle.

Spider, like many C-films, is not an enjoyable film. It’s a thoughtful, well-crafted, fascinating and deep character study, but despite a title that sounds ripped off the SciFi Channel, this is no web in the park. Ralph Fiennes plays “Spider” Cleg, a middle aged schizophrenic who has recently been released from an institution into a not-so caring halfway house run by Lynn Redgrave. Within 20 minutes, we see that this isn’t the story of a man trying to fit himself into society or form some kind of relationship with another human being; this is a psychological exploration of Spider’s life and how he came to be the mumbling ghost of a man we watch shuffle through a cold and lonely London today. To do this, Cronenberg follows Fiennes as he wanders through his childhood following himself as a quiet boy whose downtrodden parents are played by the incredible Gabriel Byrne and Miranda Richardson (who also takes on the looser role of a pub temptress named Yvonne with equal grandeur, thus giving the finest dual performances since, well, Jeremy Irons in Dead Ringers).

To go any further may spoil what is an intriguing and original film, so I’ll leave my rather uninformative synopsis to say this is not a film about its story, but a study in mental illness that brings the audience inside a scary, confusing, and altogether fascinating place.


High Points
The performances--particularly Richardson, who is simply phenomenal--are all top notch and become even richer upon second viewing when you realize just how multifaceted they are

Many of Cronenberg’s images--like the DVD menu shot, where Fienes huddles down in a long coat that makes him seem like he has no head--are quite haunting


Low Points
Despite a title that begs for arachnids, there are no actual spiders in this film


Rent/Buy/Bury
Buy: It’s hard to be overly enthusiastic when recommending a film like this. You don’t watch it for fun and you might not even fully understand everything you see after the first time. In many ways, this is one of those miserable tales that makes you feel tired and itchy just to be watching it.

Having said that, this is a film to own, or at least rent with the intention of paying late fines when it’s overdue. Like a good Sondheim musical, everything it offers is not on the surface and sometimes won’t be found until the third go around. Several featurettes detail all areas of production and Cronenberg’s commentary track is extremely enlightening. Not only do you learn a little more about the film, you also come to realize just how challenging these roles were for the cast. Anyone with an interest in acting can learn a lot from the very particular nuances of Byrne, Richardson, and Fiennes (who was the pioneer of bringing this book to the screen) and students of psychology may find a truly introspective look at schizophrenia (eat that Russell Crowe! I mean, I loved you in Mystery, Alaska, and I baked you cookies and put that phone down please).