Showing posts with label happy holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happy holidays. Show all posts

Monday, November 28, 2016

Different Kinds of Holiday Horrors



Throw away your high heels and work cell phone, put on your dangerously oversized earrings, and add some whipped cream to your cocoa. It's Cozy Cardigan Christmas Movie Time, and I've got BIG things planned.


Over at my podcast, The Feminine Critique, I'm shooting out mini-episodes faster than a strict career woman can change her ways and save Christmas in a charming small town. On deck is a whole bunch of Hallmark, Lifetime, UP, and FreeForm originals wherein, well, a strict career woman changes her ways and saves Christmas in a charming small town. There's also one about Nick Lachey's younger brother as a rock star who, well, saves Christmas in a charming small town. Oh! And Daphne Zuniga saves Thanksgiving in a charming small town AND she starts as, you know, a strict career woman. 


I have a lot to say about these movies. You can download at iTunes or figure it out here.

If you prefer to SEE me when I talk about Candace Cameron Bure saving Christmas in a charming small town AND you're in the New York area on Friday, December 9th, then come on down to Brooklyn's Alamo Drafthouse. I'll be participating in a very special Kevin Geeks Out comedy show about, you guessed it, holiday specials. You can get all the details here


Hope to see you there!

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Merry Xmas!



/Life Day/Belated Hanukah/Eventual Kwanza/ Future Little/Russian Christmas/Festivus/Survival of the Mayan Apocalypse/Boxing Day/Patrick Swayze Christmas

Whatever it means to you, I'm off today and my apartment smells like pine cones. So let's take a cue from Mr. Sims and party like it's 1984! 


Tis the season to be jolly and joyous, after all.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

A Very Dead Doll's House Thanksgiving


Like most Americans, I used to consider Thanksgiving something of a filler holiday. Sandwiched like leftover turkey breast between the giddy thrills of Halloween and the glitzy glam of Christmas, a historical Thursday devoted to a food that never struck my fancy and brushed-over happy Native American history just felt like a lucky three-day vacation. Sure, the college years made it something of a tentpole (and a great chance to see who got fat by visiting the hometown bars) but the actual importance of the day never hit me until quite recently.


For various reasons, the fourth Thursday in November has become rather special to me. While the virtually endless stream of alcohol and pie certainly has something to do with it, there’s also the whole sense of having plenty to be grateful for, and better yet, being surrounded by people I love while doing so. Also, endless stream of alcohol and pie.


So in honor of a day now reserved for unlucky turkeys and Godzilla-esque balloon animals threatening Manhattan with every floating step, I give you an alphabetized list of some of the things that make me thankful on this ThanksKilling Day:

A for avocados, I eat them right off the knife



B is for Branan, he's my roommate/the love of my life


C is for conventions, where Internet friends mingle and frolic


D stands for dolls, even if they've made me something of an alcoholic


E recalls Endy Chavez, a man who almost brought the Mets to the World Series


F celebrates cats, because I do so love the feline species


G for George RR Martin's Game of Thrones, so addictive and imperial


H is for Honey Nut Shredded Wheat, my ultimate breakfast cereal


I is for Inwood, my new hood and home


J because I love Jeopardy!, even if it's hosted by a cruel Canadian gnome


K stands for killer klowns, beds, refrigerators, and all the villains of horror fun

L for public libraries. Take advantage of them if you’re not dumb



M can represent both my mom and dad



N is for nachos because when I eat them, I can't be sad


O stands for Ommegang beer, my favorite brewer of glee



P is for podcasting, where I can speak and listen merrily


Q stands for queues of the Netflix variety


R represents you my readers, a most awesome society


S marks my siblings of which there are three


T would be Thanksgiving, the day that I drink with revelry 


U because the unicorn in Cabin In the Woods brought me to tears


V signifies ventriloquist's dummies. Hey, we all need something to fear



W marks The Wizard of Oz,a film near and dear to my heart


X for Xander Harris, Buffy's best pal always loyal and stalwart


Y will be Yoda, my favorite fictional creature in the movies

Z for zucchini, shooting health and flavor out like an uzi


Okay, so the last one was a tad weird, but that's what I've got. Happy Thanksgiving one and all!

Thursday, August 23, 2012

What Big Hooker Boots You Have



Not since Zombie Death House have I sat down for a violent-prisoners-take-out-the-staff horror treat. Something tells me the hair won’t have nearly enough volume in 2010’s Medium Raw

Quick Plot: Some years ago, a serial killer dubbed The Wolf killed a lot of little girls, including our hero Johnny Morgan’s kid sister. Now a surly young detective, Johnny (played by director Andrew Cymek) gets his second chance at catching the elusive killer when his mentor (John Rhys-Davies in non-dwarf form) discovers he has returned.


Meanwhile, Johnny’s new wife Jamie is a psychiatrist at a maximum security asylum for the criminally insane. It’s a darkly lit place with a bad reputation, as its former head doctor was a fan of torturous therapy. Now run by his son Dr. Robert Parker (William B. Davis), the hospital operates under the theory that insanity can be cured and treated with kindness. When that doesn’t work, all patients wear electric shock collars that send a mean jolt if they get too close to the staff.

You see where this is going, right?


After Johnny collars The Wolf (real name: Harold Grierson), justice takes a turn when lawyer Mercedes McNab (better known to Sunnydale citizens as Harmony) gets Grierson a softer sentence to, you guessed it, the same asylum Jamie (now separated from Johnny) does her rounds. Once a nurse’s granddaughter comes to visit wearing a red cloak on Christmas Eve, you can bet a steak dinner that the power will go out and the tables will turn.


Medium Raw is an unusual film in both good ways and bad. It’s hard to dislike any inmates-take-it-back film, simply because such a Marat/Sade premise will always yield something fun. In this case, we get a cheerfully mad nudist in a Santa hat, a brutal giant with a soft spot for Jamie’s singing and a hard spot for the color red, a god-loving psycho who talks like Macho Man, and a deceptively grandmotherly patient named Mabel who just so happens to be a cannibal with specific cooking techniques. All that stuff? Super.


Unfortunately, we also get their victims. Cymek looks the part of a young distressed detective, but he never really seems to be weighted by the horrors he’s experienced. Brigitte Kingsley (also the producer) is dreadfully miscast (and mis-styled) as a brilliant doctor who looks and acts more like a centerfold. Their scenes together lack any real chemistry, which wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t drawn out in the worst possible way.


I’m being very specific when I say “drawn out in the worst possible way” because it’s quite literal. At one point, Jamie is trapped in a James Bond-ish slow death drowning apparatus. She knows her time is short—like, really really really really short—and so she urges Johnny to go save someone else and get back to her if he can. Considering the fact that every second counts, you’d think he would make up his mind then launch into action and return with equal speed. Instead, Cymek uses this scene to show how sad he is by the whole thing, i.e., standing there looking torn, vowing not to leave, then deciding to leave but continuously turning around before trotting away. Take your time dude. No rush.


Except yes rush, because tick tock. You’d think Johnny would learn his lesson when he returns to find Jamie’s cage underwater. Rather than immediately SPRINTING towards it, he takes the moment to stop, shout “Jamie!,” and then run to her aide. I know it’s the kind of detail that works for dramatic effect, but when time being of the essence has been DRILLED into this subplot, it’s impossible for an audience member to ignore how stupid his actions seem.

I realize I’m harping on small things, but there are a lot of those kinds of poor choices that keeps Medium Raw from ever being as effective as it could be. We even have two assumedly ace detectives investigating an extremely violent criminal without calling backup, as if everything they learned about police work came from Danny Glover’s incompetence in Saw.


These things aside, Medium Raw does have plenty to enjoy. The oddly black humored impromptu cannibal cooking lesson is twisted fun, and a lot of the fairy tale imagery (when not obvious) creates an artistically unsettling tone. Of course, it would help if we could actually SEE the details, something Cymek seems loathe to do based on the pitch black lighting choices. I suppose it’s meant to heighten the mood or show us the darkness of the asylum but really, it just means I squinted a lot.

Not. Pleasant.

High Notes
The actual design of The Wolf’s chainmail garb is wonderfully weird


The Juggernaut-ish big guy who hates red is wonderfully used as a sort of tool of the good and bad. We see from his interactions with Jamie that he’s psychologically unbalanced, not naturally evil. It’s an interesting touch that works well when Johnny enlists him as his own sort of weapon against The Woodcutter


Low Notes
Dear Lighting Department: It’s nice to see things now and then. Yours, Emily


Lessons Learned
Lawyers’ personal files always include a sexy headshot

All toes are important

  
Acceptable workwear for a psychiatrist in a home for the criminally insane includes skin-tight t-shirts, miniskirts, and knee-high leather boots with heels sharp enough to cut through arteries

When someone cooks your staff for dinner, that person is not your friend

Rent/Bury/Buy
When it comes to most of the newer genre films on Instant Watch, Medium Raw is something different. So long as you can get by the fact that everybody onscreen acts like an idiot (and that the lead two act rather terribly), it’s not an awful way to waste away 90 minutes. And hey, it gives us a double shot of holiday AND mental asylum horror. For that, I can be thankful with a mediocre product.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Hippoty Hoppoty Homicide!



As some of you know and others don't care about, I spent the last year or so contributing to Pop Syndicate, a recently deceased website that lost all its past content (and writers). The following article appeared in 2009 and since you can't find it anywhere else in InterWorld, I'm rerunning it here. Apologies for the deja vu.



Controversial, religious, or rainy, Easter weekend is more than just an excuse to gorge yourself on Cadbury Creme Eggs. Namely, it’s a time to watch seasonal horror movies! A few recommendations:
Critters 2: The Main Course




One of the few genre films specifically set during Easter and for a very good reason: critters hatch from eggs, and what better way to feast upon an idyllic small town than by Trojan horse-plowing your way into the homes and baskets of tasty locals?
Jesus Christ: Vampire Hunter



And on the third day, Jesus rose...to kick some undead ass. According to this affectionally campy musical/action/horror/wrestling romp, Christ will sing, dance, and spin kick through sunglass-wearing gangs of blood drinkers, especially if the monsters are on the prowl to purge the world of its lesbian population. It’s as silly as its title suggests (note that I haven’t even mentioned the luchador sidekick or voice-of-god speaking through an ice cream sundae) but this low budget oddity is a surprisingly good time and way more fun than Sunday mass. If your ears are feeling fancy, check out Episode 14 of the Girls On Film Podcast for our gushings.
Night of the Lepus



I often take issues with fear snobs sneering at the threat of killer dolls, but I’ll confidently eat my Easter bonnet to say bunnies are not, never were, and can never be scary. Perhaps the best proof is offered in this infamous flop(fy eared) 1972 monster flick, in which giant rabbits wreak havoc on mankind and Janet Leigh. It’s adorable.
Fear No Evil

I usually recommend this 1981 entry into the antichrist subgenre for its see-it-to-believe-it death by dodgeball, but to be timely, we could also cite the subplot passion play for the perfect Easter Sunday (or Good Friday) viewing. A smiling actor playing an actor playing Jesus (and fittingly voiced by the director in one of the best cameos since Hitchcock) gets more than church community adoration when Satan’s teenage son accepts his legacy at the town’s annual celebration. Needless to say, next time you subject yourself to theatrical crucifixion, it’s best to ask for a stunt double. (Read my original review here)
Black Sheep



Zombies moan. Body snatchers shriek. Asian ghost girls make strange clicking sounds. But only genetically altered New Zealand lambs bleat, as this 2006 horror comedy proudly proves. While I’ve always been a tad reluctant to chow down on the lamb chops my grandmother made on Easter (particularly when cardboard sheep were smiling in decoration form around the kitchen), the man-eating mammals here remove any guilt I have dishing out seconds.
Fatal Attraction



In keeping with the theme, one could easily argue that Glen Close’s golden perm bears a striking resemblance to Lampchop herself. Plus, a bunny stew served by an obsessive murderess is the perfect Easter dinner, particularly for psychopaths in need of solid protein for another night of stalking.
Arachnophobia

Okay, so there’s no Mega Spider vs. Giant Bunny action here, but the main threat in this likable 1990 creature features is a nest of hidden eggs. What’s more festive than that?
Did I pass over any of your favorites? (See what I did there, Pass-ov--never mind) . Bad punning or not, add or your own and have a great Peeps-At-Half-Price Monday!