Salute Your Shorties: Near Dark's Homer

A decade before Kirsten Dunst was reanimated by a ponytailed Brad Pitt, the world met Joshua John Miller's sad and slightly foul-mouthed Homer.

We never learn the full story of Homer's vamping although obviously, it happened a few bites before puberty. Played by Joshua John Miller (son of Jason and little brother of Lost Boy Jason Patric), Homer is a monster, an evil, humanity-hunting killer with little sympathy for the necks he bites (one of them being surrogate sister Mae, whom he turned just after she graduated high school). You wouldn't want to buy the kid a coke in a roadhouse.

And don't you DARE mispronounce his name. No, I don't know how one mispronounces such a straightforward word myself but you can bet my solar deflecting overcoat I'm not about to find out.

On the other hand, what makes H-O-M-E-R such a lasting character is that he IS sympathetic. Like a teenage Frankenstein or vegetarian zombie, Homer shouldn't exist. As Antonio Banderas musically purrs in Interview With a Vampire, it's unnatural to turn someone so young, a supernatural crime that creates a physically forever preteen with an ever evolving mind. Remember when you were twelve? Life wasn't the worst it could get--I hold that eighth grade was made for such hyperbole--but you knew you were simply passing through a treacherous but thankfully temporary phase . You were SO CLOSE to being a grownup, to losing baby weight in a growth spurt that would make sense of your proportions. Your body was on its way to being whole.

Now imagine someone pressing pause.

Poor Homer. Even amongst his own kind, he can't ever REALLY find his place. Severen (the delectable Bill Paxton) treats him to all the pitfalls of being the youngest sibling, while Mae shifts her attention to the same-aged newbie Caleb.  It's no wonder that he'd want to create an equal in Sarah, a young human who could, if turned vampire, be the one and only creature to eventually understand what immortality at the wrong age means.

Of course (SPOILER ALERT) Homer never gets that chance although darnit if he doesn't die trying. Erupting in a pre-Buffy burst of flames, Homer chases his lost friend into the sunlight, screaming her name as he burns himself alive en route.

Now that's a way to go.

Credit certainly extends to Miller, just thirteen when filming this dense role. Perhaps the '80s best "little brother actor," Miller finds the perfect balance in bringing out the old frustrated soul dangerously lurking inside his misleading kid frame. He would go on to more iconic (at least by Doll's House standards) roles in the underlooked Class of 1999 and the glorious cheese that is Teen Witch, but it's Homer that made such a haunting stamp on genre cinema, and for his work, The Shortening raises an honorary glass of fresh squeezed neck juice from a little person stunt double on the set of a kids' film.

Quick Stops!

I know--and hope--that all of you are in the midst of Halloween celebration/preparation/domination, but should you require any audio accompaniment, might I recommend a download of this week's Gentleman's Guide to Midnite Cinema? Aside from being one of the very best movie podcasts out there, episode 155 features li'l ole moi discussing the finer points of genre classic Near Dark with GGTMC's Large William, along with a whole lot of other podcasting superstars. Get thee to iTunes!

The Pax will be waiting

Also of note (and on the page): I took a ride on my (satanic) broomstick over to The Lightning Bug's Lair to drop a batch of 13 recommendations for best devil-made-me-do-it horror (or animated musical) movies. A few of my favorites showed up--because how does one NOT include something as amazing as this--so you might guess what you're in for, but I promise a few surprises and more importantly, a fine review of The Omen by the Bug himself. Fly away!

I've got pumpkins to kill kiss tell secrets to snort cuddle with carve. 

Yeah, that's it...

America, Eff Yeah (or something something)

As my fellow Americans and I prepare to gorge ourselves on hamburgers and s’mores (side note: does a s’more hamburger sound good, or am I just really hungry?), I thought it would be patriotic--or, well, timely--to round up a few installments of my favorite genre that represent some aspect of United States history. A complete timeline wasn’t possible because a) as far as I know, we’re still waiting for the proper Columbus-as-Godzilla analogy of my dreams and b) there aren’t nearly enough (that I know of) films set in the past. 

Still, I did manage to pull a few titles/notable time periods for your movie marathon. No matter what color passport you may keep, feel free to add more below. Based on some of my picks, we need all the help we can to make history not repeat itself.

Puritannia!

Truth be told, I can’t think of any great American horror films that truly capture the restrictiveness of Christian culture. Peter Weir’s brilliantly haunting Picnic At Hanging Rock does an incredible job of exploring the unnatural atmosphere of Victorian society, but, well, that classic is set in the 1900s on another British colony that begins with A. For colonial horror of a more cerebral ilk, one could check out the we’re-the-real-monsters A-list headed The Crucible, starring a horny Winona Ryder, a brooding Daniel Day Lewis, and lots of black magic loving teenagers who scream more than all Jason’s final girls combined or an entire cycle’s worth of America’s Next Top Model contestants. If so-bad-it’s-still-not-good films are your cup of tea, then sit yourself down for an MST3K zinger-ready viewing of Demi Moore’s Oscar-baiting, Razzie winning performance as Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter. It teaches some important national lessons, such as don’t have sex with priests even if they are Gary Goldman and never under any circumstances overestimate your acting ability.

Manifest Destiny

Go west, young man! And if in doubt, eat your fatter travel companions. The infamous Donnor Party of the 1840s ventured into unchartered territory by heading across the country in search of gold and good settling ground, but they’re far more remembered for their survival spirit and taste in good old fashioned American red meat. American citizen meat, that is. Short on supplies and near starvation, these ill-fated pioneers eventually began eating their fellow (dead, I believe) travelers, thus beginning our national tradition of cannibalistic antiheroes. Without them, would Anthony Hopkins have ever won an Oscar? (probably). For totally unfaithful adaptations of this event, see the well-made Ravenous or Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s Tromarrific Cannibal! The Musical. Warning: you will be singing about baked potatoes, snowmen, and trackers for weeks without fail. And you may want to eat people. I honestly don’t know which is worse. 

The Civil War

The bloodiest event in American history pitted brother against brother, North against South, and twangs against Yank speak. In terms of body count, it’s our most devastating war, although oddly enough, you won’t find a large amount of horror films addressing the subject. Near Dark adds an excellently evil layer to Lance Henrickson’s vampire by giving him a Confederate backstory (slavery supporting AND undead? shudders). One of my favorite forgotten horror anthologies, the Vincent Price starring From a Whisper to a Scream (aka The Offspring) sets its final segment during the last days of the Civil War, when a group of children orphaned by the North’s dominance find their own method of Reconstruction (hint: it involves a lot of pieces). The amateur acting is spotty, but the gritty barrenness of a war-torn society (rarely seen in the U.S. but sadly far more common elsewhere) is explored in a truly frightening way.

The 1960s

In 1968, George Romero changed American (and international) cinema with the gore-filled, hero lacking Night of the Living Dead. Aside from introducing the world to unlimited hours of entertainment in planning zombie escape plans, this little black and white horror captured a changing tide in national sentiment. The blatant acknowledgement of unequal treatment of blacks, the inefficiency of government authorities, and the disenchantment with the American heroism by the reality of Vietnam  has aged well in the 40 years since it’s midnight premiere. It won’t make you proud of this country, but it remains one of its most important cinematic milestones.

Getting depressed by the state of the red white and blue? For an all-American palette cleanser, check out 1997’s low budget, high body count Uncle Sam. Yes, it’s pretty much 85 minutes of patriotic kills using every implement you’ll touch this July 4th (flag pole? check; bbq? check; firecrackers? you get the point) and no, it’s not good. But with American heroes Isaac Hayes and Robert Forster on board, plus the most aggressive potato sack race ever put on film, you’ll get much more enjoyment than, say, watching televised fireworks scored to the Last House On the Left-like raping of John Philip Sousa’s legacy by high school marching bands.