Drag Me To Hell mini-review

Just got back from seeing the movie. It was one of those experience that blasted away my ability to render a coherant opinion (and believe me, it takes a lot to do that.) I'm probably gonna try this again at a later date, but just go with this:

See. This. Movie. Now.

However, this movie is likely to offend WASPS, farmers, and the Romani people.

Fear [s] Of The Dark

I really liked this movie.

Fear[s] Of The Dark is an animated anthology of horror tales from the most well-known graphic novelists and animators in Europe. It's gotten a lot of buzz in the film festival circuit, and it's all well deserved. FotD is a gorgeous film, absolute eye candy, and the film's minimalist take on the genre is really cool.

Sure, there's a bunch of weird arty stuff in here. The wraparound narrative is a woman listing her fears, both large and small, as asymmetric black and white patterns dance across the screen. It's actually pretty cool, but it's not going to appeal to people who like their horror performed in a straightforward manner.

The stories themselves are all familiar to the long-time horror fan: madness, possession, ghosts, the knife in the dark. The stories are sparse and are more of a showcase for seeing what the artists can do with old tropes. It works well. Even the weakest narrative, a story of a man recalling his childhood among a rural area full of monsters, is still a pleasure to watch.

The best segment, far and away, is the tale of the man stumbling around in the dark house as something sinister stalks him. The story is told completely without dialogue and the play of darkness and silence makes this easily one of the creepiest horror stories I've ever seen. Get a little taste of it here:





So, yeah, go check this one out. It's something new, something different, and it's lovely.

Dance of the Dead

As I've probably mentioned before, the zombie archetype tends to be very character-driven. We need to understand and empathize with the characters in the story as they stand against a world-wide annihilation. The heroes of Dance of the Dead are misunderstood geeks facing a zombie apocalypse, earning the love and respect of the people who previously spurned him.

Sounds pretty familiar, right?



This time around, the heroes are the various dweebs and underdogs who couldn't get dates to the prom. When the chemicals from a criminally mismanaged power plant reanimates the dead, the sci-fi club rushes to the prom to save their fellow classmates. It's total geek wish fulfillment, which I can relate to.

The story also covers the notion that high school society is so stratified that the only way people from disparate groups would ever mingle is when they're under attack. This, of course, allows the cheerleaders and prom queens to marvel our geeky heroes' prowess as they dispatch legions of the undead. This idea was similarly covered in The Faculty, but that film suffered from being too pretty, too Hollywood, and full of too many attractive actors. The kids in DotD look and act like gangly, awkward, nervous teenagers, and it adds a layer of realism to the work. You really get the sense you're watching a teenage fantasy, something scrawled in jagged, enthusiastic script in the back of their notebook.



Being as much an action film as a horror movie, the teenagers prove themselves to be surprisingly skilled fighters. The stuntwork in the movie is amazing, particularly the scene where the heroes are running through a cemetary while the zombies explode out of the graves around them.

Dance of the Dead was entertaining enough, but it didn't exactly rock my cage. It was a little too earnest, a little too needy, a little too precious. It splits its energy among too many characters and many of the heroes are actually pretty unlikeable. Still, there's a lot of good stuff here. Unlike a lot of horror movies aimed at a teenage market, this one feels authentic. It's rough an unpolished and passionate and enthusiastic and it doesn't cynically try to sell the audience something from adulthood. It's the cinematic equivalent of a mash-up, and I dug that. Keep an eye out for director Gregg Bishop. I want to see what else he's got up his sleeve.

If that doesn't sell you, there are Zombie Teenage Makeouts, cynical gravediggers who attempt to keep the whole mess in check, and the prettiest rock band I've ever seen lulling the zombies into a stupor with their music. Check it out.

The Shining (special concussion edition of Creature Cast)

We are, of course, referring to the Stanley Kubrick movie, not the anemic made-for-TV film from the 90s.



That Stanley Kubrick's film is a classic of the genre is beyond question. It's successfully scared the crap out of me for years, and each time I return to it I find something new to be frightened of. Instead, I want to talk about a few subjects that come up around the film, specifically the characterization of Wendy Torrance, Jack Nicholson's iconic performance, and the notion that there isn't anything supernatural going on in the Overlook Hotel.

1) The characterization of Wendy Torrance.



There are a whole lotta people who can't stand Wendy Torrance. She's funny looking, she acts like a doormat, and she keeps doing completely illogical things as the situation worsens. She comes off, frankly, as an apologetic wimp, trying to reconcile with her deranged husband as he keeps shelling out abuse on her.

All that stuff made her interesting.

First off, if she was truly a strong woman, she probably would have gotten the fuck out of the relationship ages ago and then we wouldn't have had a story. Second, there's a weird apologetic need horror types have around including the Strong Female Protagonist.

One of the criticisms that swirled around Quarantine was the fact that lead character Angela Vidal wasn't particularly tough or capable. Given that the actress portraying her was also the hard-boiled cop from Dexter, a lot of people were upset that she played the character as weak and confused. But that's precisely how I'd be if I were trapped in an apartment building full of screeching plague victims. I think people's natural reaction to horror is to be horrified, but the standard for female horror protagonists has become characters who treat the supernatural with a mix of terror and annoyance and who are infinitely capable of fighting back.

The re-characterization of Wendy Torrance was one of the big problems I had with the made-for-TV version of The Shining. As played by Rebecca De Mornay, Wendy is too strong, too capable, and would probably have ditched her husband long before he ever set foot in the Overlook. Then again, the TV series also completely removed culpability from Jack Torrance, making him a total slave of the house. Maybe he was a nicer guy in that world, who knows?

In Kubrick's version, Wendy Torrance is an abuse victim to the core. Her self-esteem has been completely eroded, she rationalizes her crazy husband's behavior, and she is high-strung and close to the edge of sanity. It's a painful portrayal to watch, and there are a lot of people who have some weird pathological need to hate that kind of weakness and pass judgment on her, but she was a great character and one of my all-time favorite final girls.

2) Jack Nicholson's performance...



ain't my favorite.

Okay, once he goes full-tilt nutso on Wendy, he gives one of the most iconic performances in history. By that point in the film he's become a cauldron of rage, spousal abuse personified. He's a lot less likable than the Jack Torrance from the novel, who really was a victim of the house's influence. He's pretty much a prick throughout the movie, long before the Overlook gets its claws in him.

Final Girl stated it better than I will, but when Jack begins his descent into madness there's no subtlety to it. We never see him question the visions he's seeing or resist the house's call to murder his family. He goes bug eyed, he licks his lips like the Joker, and he acts like your generic homeless nutjob. The performance is completely over-the-top, which works better late in the movie than in the earlier, quieter scenes.

I could probably make some pointed comparisons to his work in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest but I've got a concussion.

3) What if nothing supernatural is going on in the Overlook?



I don't remember where I first heard this theory, maybe in John McCarty's Movie Psychos and Madmen, but people have occasionally made the argument that nothing supernatural is going on at the Overlook, that the isolation and pre-existing neurosis of the family is creating all the occult occurrences. No one witnesses the same haunting the same way, every character in the hotel undergoes some sort of mental collapse, and all the events that occur come from within the characters.

If there was ever a place to have a complete break from reality, it would be the isolation of the Overlook Hotel. You can imagine the place brimming with life during the tourist season, where there are people filling its vast halls, taking in the breathtaking vistas that Kubrick shows us. It's actually quite a beautiful place. Isolation brings a real sense of menace to all that enclosed space. I've given myself the creeps going through long, luxurious hotel hallways late at night. There's something about the light, the patterns on the floor, and all those silent doors, stretching out into near-infinity that just creeps me right the fuck out. It's not impossible that environments like this would drive a family over the edge.

Obviously, this theory falls apart on close inspection. Both Hallorann and Danny Torrance clearly have some psychic bond, someone had to let Jack out of the pantry after Wendy locks him in there, and Jack Torrance appears in the old group photo at the movie's end. But it doesn't take much effort to shoehorn this particular interpretation of the movie, and I think the story is all the richer for it.

Anyway, that's what I got for you today. Now, cleanse the palette with the best Simpsons parody evah!



Also, please don't drink and drive. You might hit a blogger who NEEDS his brain to work properly.

Creature got into a car accident.

In keeping with my general real world horror/fake horror thing, I got into a big-ass auto accident this week.







The guy was drunk, he smashed into the rear of my car, and he collided with several other vehicles while attempting to flee the scene. I asked the cop that as a peaceful, forgiving, yoga-practicing dude, was it wrong for me to wish death by herpes on the guy. He laughed and said "no comment."

I got off real easy on that one, sustaining a mild concussion, some whiplash, and back spasms. I try to exercise regularly and I don't want to become one of those guys who is always in pain and can't do anything fun.

Lesson: Please please please don't drink and drive. I have an awesome post in-bound about Stanley Kubrick's The Shining, but it may take some time to get to. Right now all I'm capable of doing is watching 60s caper movies starring Michael Caine and going page by painful page through Chuck Palahniuk's Haunted, which I'm not particularly enjoying.

Silent Hill Cosplay

I found this while browsing Kotaku. Apparently some very dedicated cosplayers did an awesome Pyramid Head/Nurse shoot from the Silent Hill series.

I'm a big fan of the Silent Hill games. I'm currently playing through Silent Hill: Homecoming and will probably write some article for your sick amusement. In the meantime, check out the incredible gallery here.

Song of Kali by Dan Simmons

I have never been to Calcutta, I've never walked over piles of human waste, I've never been stuck in an ass-to-tits traffic jam caused by a cow, and I've never been cornered by mobs of beggars pressing against me for a handout. I HAVE been to Comic-Con, which is not an entirely dissimilar experience, but the sheer crushing weight of that kind of poverty was beautifully recreated in Dan Simmons' book Song of Kali.

Song of Kali has been on my reading list for a long time, particularly after re-reading Poppy Z. Brite's Calcutta, Lord of Nerves story from the Living Dead anthology. That story was a favorite of mine for its vivid prose and ghastly imagery. She claimed to be inspired by Simmons' work and I decided to check out the source material. Needless to say, I was not disappointed.



I'm inclined to be kindly predisposed to horror. I keep trying to warn y'all that I'm a lousy reviewer because of my tunnel-visioned, fanboy love for this stuff. Hell, I'm typing this review while watching The Gravedancers. Needless to say, I don't expect anyone to really take what I have to say seriously. But while I have loved many a crap novel in my time, I rarely come across anything as beautifully written or as richly detailed as Song of Kali.

In the book, the song of Kali is the personification of all the miserable entropy in the world, and Calcutta is the fetid embodiment of her song. Simmons' book is famous for its vivid depiction of the city's squalor and hopelessness, earning the World Fantasy Award in 1986. The award is well-earned. This book has some of the most vivid and poetic prose I've ever read. I challenge anyone to read the first chapter and not be completely engaged.

The book follows Robert Luzcak, a poet and magazine editor, as he goes to Calcutta at the invitation of a local literary society to pick up a new poetry collection from the presumed-dead poet M. Das. As he explores the city, he finds himself pulled deeper into the (possibly) supernatural events surrounding M. Das and his sinister new work. Eventually Luzcak and his family pay a terrible price for crossing the cult of Kali, in one of the most horrifying final sequences I've ever encountered.

This is not a book that thunders you over and over with gory bodies plopping on the pages. The story unfolds gradually as Luzcak slowly delves into the mystery behind M. Das's work. The easy pacing is a blessing to the story. Reading the book feels like sinking into a warm bath of Good.



Now, while I greatly enjoyed the book, I do have to relate an experience I had while reading it. I work for a company with a lot of Indian immigrant employees and while I was riding an elevator with my nose stuck in the book, a couple of guys got on the elevator with me. They took a glance at the cover and looked at me with a cocked eyebrow.


I felt a bit self-conscious after that encounter. The book is not particularly kind to Calcutta or certain aspects of Indian culture. It has a certain white-man-looks-down vibe about it in places. I'm actually very curious to find out what an Indian person thought of the story. Were there elements that they could relate to, or did they view it as a writer trying to make a statement about evil by demonizing another culture? On the other hand, Simmons begins chapters with quotes from famous Indian poets describing Calcutta in equally inelegant terms. Curiouser and curiouser.

Anyway, go check it out. It's one helluva piece of literature.