The Princess and the Frog (2009)

Growing up in the 1920’s New Orleans, Tiana’s father has taught her two things: hard work will get you want you want and don’t forget what really matters. Now Tiana is a waitress who is hoping to realize her father’s dream of a restaurant. But when Prince Naveen comes to town and both become prey in the plays of a local shadow man, her future is in question. What follows is an uninspired, insulting piece of garbage.

Disney’s latest money-pit, The Princess and the Frog, is an attempt at reviving classic Disney animation and it fails miserably. There is no charm, no life, no joy, and no beauty. Studded with death, dismemberment, and untold clichés, this movie has no soul. Even the score found herein by Randy Newman is forgettable. The film is set during the Jazz Age and there is nothing musically interesting to speak of.

Cheap jokes and even cheaper characters flail onscreen. The sequences in the voodoo emporium are one-dimensionally creepy and the shaman looks suspiciously like Prince. The bayous of Louisiana have potential until they are soiled by yet more uninspired animation.

Disney where is the brilliance you were once know for? Where’s the magic?! You insult your fans with this rubbish. If Walt and Roy could see the House of Mouse now, they’d be ashamed!!

There were no squeals of laughter to be found where I was sitting. My two young nieces were not dazzled. They seemed unaffected by what they witness. Thank God! And as I see it, the crying of young children says it all. Disney’s The Princess and the Frog is one to be missed.

(500) Days of Summer (2009)

Essentially the story of a boy who falls in love with a girl who doesn’t, this quirky romantic drama should be titled 'Reliving the past 500 days with Summer, a girl who I allowed to torture me.'

Greeting-card writer and aspiring architect Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) relives the past 500 days of his relationship with Summer (Zooey Deschanel) looking for clues on their doomed romance. Though he is told by Summer, a commitment-phobic eccentric, that she isn’t looking for anything serious, Tom plunges ahead. By day 244, he’s had his heart ripped out three times. Stupid boy keeps coming back for more.

(500) Days of Summer tries to be smart, but comes across cliché. The non-linear storyline is perhaps the most interesting element of the film. Told through days of consequence, we see moments of puppy love, spontaneity, drinking, shopping, goofing off, etc. The little vignettes are tender, but more often corny. The film wants to be many things and fails at them all.

The chemistry between Deschanel and Gordon-Levitt is rote. He makes googly-eyes the entire film. She has googly-eyes. Her vintage/thrift store wardrobe symbolism is eye-rollingly obvious. His hipster cardigans and messenger bags… well, these cool cats are so meant to be. Or not.

By the time the viewer reaches day 422, you want her to physically rip his heart out or him to snort a line to put YOU out of this pretentious misery. The culmination of days—day 500—is a cheap shot at the audience.

As I see it, (500) Days of Summer is a disappointing waste of time. Love hurts. So does this movie. It’s best avoided unless Garden State is all rented out.

Sherlock Holmes (2009)

Despite Guy Ritchie’s stamp of grit and rapid-fire, often blurry action sequences found in this adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s literary genius, Sherlock Holmes is spectacular. Well worth the price of admission, my good man.

Trading lively banter is Jude Law and Robert Downey Jr. as Dr. Watson and Holmes, respectively. Both are well suited in this new interpretation. Holmes is an insufferable man, that much holds true.  He’s a bit boorish too. Watson, a young, but well-rounded gentleman is looking to marry, settle down, and put their pairing behind them. But Holmes won’t hear of it.

Their last case centers on occultist Lord Blackwood (Mark Strong). Blackwood is convicted of murdering five women and on the eve of his hanging calls Holmes to his cell. ‘This is just the start…’ Holmes leaves all of Scotland Yard and Inspector Lestrade behind as he unravels a murderous conspiracy.

Ritchie has reignited my hero wonderfully. Building in just enough characters—including Holmes’ nemesis Professor Moriarty and Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams) who is annoying foil throughout the film—to spawn sequels.  Sherlock Holmes is a magnificent production. Old world London is gray, aptly violent, gritty, and beautiful. We see more of its dirty underbelly that anything else, but even that is delightful.

Holmes’ mindset is smartly rendered in a few key scenes that also foretell the impending blur. The screenplay underscores the impetus for Holmes’ odd manner and discomfort. Downey Jr. plays Holmes as slightly cocky, unyielding to society’s rules, and seemingly scattershot, full of undisclosed eccentricities. With his riding crop ever at the ready, Holmes dispatches his foes with a blend of critical thinking and martial arts.

In contrast is Watson. Law is gentlemanly and loyal. Ever apologetic for Holmes despite his frustration with him, Watson is a stalwartly friend. Don’t let the limp fool you. He is quick in the fight with his sword cane. Watson’s penchant for gambling was downplayed with only a few lines of dialogue, but here we see (FINALLY) Watson as Holmes equal.

Under Ritchie’s direction, Sherlock Holmes is alive and bare-knuckled, no less. I think Doyle would have been proud. The story is multi-layered; though it has its weaker points (see Rachel McAdams, the Dark Arts), the film remains a solid vehicle. A befitting, if odd score from Hans Zimmer brings another level of charm. Combined with otherworldly settings and detailed costumes, the production is a full-on assault of the senses.

As I see it, the screenplay of Sherlock Holmes is convoluted; the plot uninspired. It is the film’s weakest link. Redeeming the film are the performances by Law and Downey Jr. For that, my dear readers, you must go.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1973)

Add One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest to the list of greatest movies ever. Much like The Sixth Sense and Fight Club, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is a mind-blowing experience.

Incredible performances from Jack Nicholson, Louise Fletcher, and Will Sampson are at the center of this masterpiece. In what is essentially a film about the oppression of individualism, there are several other storylines that involve supporting characters that solidify themes of repression, careless optimism, redemption, and friendship.

Nicholson stars as R.P. McMurphy, who in an attempt to get out of a prison sentence, pleads insanity and gets sentenced to a mental institution. McMurphy’s belief that a sentence carried out in the asylum will be easier than prison. It’s not long before the McMurphy is butting heads with the institution’s wards and the iron-fisted head nurse Ratched. His defiance and optimism finds him continually at odds with Ratched much to the entertainment of his fellow patients.

Culminating to a dramatic bittersweet victory, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is a convincing story of human emotion like no other. Every element of this film builds upon the next to create a production worthy of praise. Director Milos Forman exacting formula creates a cold feeling of isolation, despair, and hopelessness amid Nicholson’s hapless optimism.

The screenplay is top-notch. The cast of supporting characters—all patients of the ward—add unbelievable subtle nuances. Brad Dourif as Billy Bibbit, a mentally challenged stutterer, Danny DeVito as the slow and harmless Martini, Christopher Lloyd play Taber, a voluntarily institutionalized man—why, we’re just no sure. Then there’s Chief, a tall Indian man who the others call ‘deaf and dumb’ played exquisitely by Will Sampson. All of these performances are multi-faceted and beautifully executed.

Finally, there’s Nurse Ratched, perhaps the most evil villainess known to cinema. With one cold stare, one even-handed comment, she can stunt the most collected of men. Her cold, calculated ways are the things nightmares are made of.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is a stunning piece of cinematic achievement. Exceptional at every angle, this film is must-see. I cannot think of a more thought-provoking, riveting film that is so ugly and so beautiful even now.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

What Jefferson Smith (James Stewart) lacks in experience, he more than makes up for in idealism.  In Frank Capra's classic Mr. Smith goes to Washington full of conviction, morals and good will only to be greeted by political corruption and greed.  After an bill he introduces causes exposes a pork-barrel bill that will make other senator's constiuents wealthy, Mr Smith because the target of an evil smear campaign.  Building to a filibuster on the floor, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is a grand testimony to idealism.  One almost wishes that Capra's drama could be required viewing for government servants.  We'd all be well-served to hear Mr. Smith's diatribe on the senate floor.

James Stewart plays Smith with a refreshing authenticity.  In contrast stands Claude Rains as seasoned, i.e., corrupted Senator Paine.  The two battle in very different ways, but as this is a Capra film we all know how it will end.  Supporting characters include Jean Arthur who has a terrific turn as a Capitol Hill secretary.

In this cynical modern time in which we live, its hard for this viewer to commiserate with Mr. Smith.  While the gentleman is the embodiment of the hope we all feel when we first cast a vote or write our congressman, it is too easy to be disenfranchised with the current state of affairs.  It's very nearly depressing.

Production wise, the film looks great.  Tightly edited, the scenes of our nation's capital convey the ideology of Mr. Smith wonderfully.  The lighting in these keys scenes work to draw your eye to particular passages of our nation's documents.

As I see it, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is best viewed with sentimentality.  It works more as a historical or period piece.  Compared to modern cinematic politcal works, this film is too mild and meek.  Then again, perhaps that falls on me, the viewer.  As Miss Saunders states 'maybe being jaded isn't such a good idea all the time.'

Bedtime Stories (2008)

It was at the behest of my nieces and the prodding of my brother who knows of my fascination with Russell Brand that I sat down to watch Bedtime Stories starring Adam Sandler. Dear readers, you know of my distaste for the man. His best days were on SNL.

As Uncle Skeeter, Sandler is remarkably sane. His penchant for odd voices remains, but this time, as the down on his luck everyman who is caring for his niece and nephew, the voices work. Adept at story-telling, Skeeter begins to notice uncanny parallels between the bedtime stories he’s been telling Bobbi and Patrick and his real life. Before long, he’s trying to manipulate the bedtime stories to realize his own reality.

The characters herein aren’t particularly deep in Bedtime Stories. The casting is solid with Brand, Courtney Cox, Keri Russell, Guy Pierce and Richard Griffiths. Cox is funny with her obsessive mom disorder. Her poor kids haven’t experienced the true joys of childhood thanks to mom’s fascination with wheat germ. Sandler, however, is the real star of the show. And as much as it pains me to say it, some of the dialogue is funny and completely relatable.

Sandler, I’m impressed. You’ve forgone the raunchy uninspired brand of humor I have cursed you for and made something enjoyable for the whole family. Interesting enough for the adults; captivating for the children. Even computer generated Bugsy didn’t annoy me. Well done.

It Might Get Loud (2008)

Watching The Edge and Jack White look on in awe as Jimmy Page lays into ‘Ramble On’ is the epitome of this documentary from Davis Guggenheim. Behold the guitar gods of rock!

Each god tells their story—in their own words—in their own guitar—each man unique in his genius and his ability to caress heavenly chords from their instruments. White’s Kat, Page’s Strat, and The Edge’s Explorer reflect the artist’s attitudes and influences. It’s fascinating as we the viewer become flies on the wall as these three reflect on their own music history. Page, the originator of sound, Edge, the consummate sonic professional, and White, the poor boy from Detroit obsessed with the sounds of yesteryear. Interspersed with visits to locations that became part of their histories, Guggenheim allows the ICONS to ramble on about techniques and creative process.

Though these musicians are very different in styles, one element unites them all: innovation. Listening to and watching this conversation is amazing. Upon arrival, one senses nervousness in the group. But director Davis Guggenheim cultivates a perfect setting—a natural habitat, if you will—that allows these boys to find their common link.

As Page explains the origins of Come with Me and the other two join, you expect to see lighting bolts. The Edge’s snippet of Stairway to Heaven is just cool as is his sound pedal board that requires a fork-lift to move. In contrast, is White’s ever present passion for pushing the edge of sound. The opening sequences of White constructing a guitar with odds and ends it brilliant. Page questioning White on his Seven Nation Army is a ‘wow’ moment—then Edge comments ‘can you show us how it goes?’. Both are in agreement. ‘That’s a great sound!’

From shop talk like what type of strings do you use to chord evolution—no part of this conversation will be inane to anyone. These boys are authentically bad-a$$. Drawing the title from The Edge’s comment during a sound check, Guggenheim just holds the camera and records the bad-a$$ summit.

Everyone is welcome to worship the Houses of the Holy. Look upon these men and celebrate all that is electrifying, loud, and right with the world and get your faces melted off. It Might Get Loud is truly a religious experience. And as I see it, the historical value of this rock gem is apparent. Go ye, therefore, and behold the jam session that unfolds as the credits roll. The Weight has never been lighter.

personal commentary: 2009 Airing of Grievances

For the uninitiated, the tradition of Festivus begins with the Airing of Grievances. I got a lot of problems with you people! And now, you're gonna hear about it. Lucky for most of you, this is a random selection of 2009 grievances.

I-40: You've been my best friend in 2009. But like most friends, you're a bit of a flake. The only thing I can count on from you is to make me late--for everything. You demand maintenance year round. The new asphalt looks good on you, but could you please finish up this major overhaul before I quit my job over you. This relationship isn't good for either of us.

Wilson Co: You are about as welcoming as a wart--interesting to look at, a novelty even, but ultimately a pain in the ass that won't go away.

Russia: After the 2008 freeze out, early 2009 brought what I thought would be the thawing of the Cold War. WRONG!! It is a strong as ever!! Allies don't treat allies like this. While the USA hates to sanction anyone, consider yourself sanctioned. That goes for all of your factions too. The US will no longer maintain a relationship with anyone who refuses to set the record straight and/or continues to operating in a manner that causes harm to their allies. Russia, you are a toad.

DVD releases: I have been complacent as George Lucas continued to take my money from new and almost never improved versions of the same films, but I am drawing the line. Effective now. A cavalcade of new releases hit the shelves this year--par for the course--but the nonstop versions are excessive. I don't want to purchase the same movie three/four times. One movie, please. Stop with the theatrical cuts, gay editions, collector's editions, director's cut, super-duper six-months later editions, gaffer's commentary editions, etc. Either release the movie you want me to see or don't release it at all. Unfortunately for you, Netflix is my friend. Suck on that!

Bono: I paid you $19.99+ tax of my hard earned dollars and all I got was a CD of crap. Yeah, I'm bitter, you jerk. How about a lot less proselytizing and more rock?

Ticketmaster/Live Nation: I could have started a trust fund with the amount of money I've given your this year. What do I have for it? An inbox full of spam, (if you like Coldplay, you will like The Jonas Bros--like hell I will!) and bad back. Gitmo detainees don't suffer like concert-goers do.

Christmas lights: After all that work, you have the audacity to go out. Thanks a lot, numb-nuts.

Alzheimer's disease: I hate you most of all this Festivus season. You have stripped my family of its figurehead. But more importantly, you are robbing me of my grandfather. Perhaps is existence is blissful--as you struck, he was unaware. But I see, hear, and feel you every day, the effect you have on my loves ones is despicable, and I hate you.

We Are Wizards (2008)

Billed as an entertaining documentary, I expected We Are Wizards to be to Harry Potter as Ringers is to Lord of the Rings. WRONG! This 79 minute freakshow is boring at best. The subjects showcased here give Potterheads a bad name. Focusing mainly on kids and middle-aged white males who have formed garage bands inspired by J.K. Rowling’s characters (Harry and the Potters, Draco and the Malfoys, Hungarian Horntails, etc), this documentary isn’t interesting and these people are pathetic. Each interviewee comes across a derelict with poor hygiene. They have passion for their respective weirdness, but none of it truly applies to Rowling’s series.

We Are Wizards doesn’t explore the origins of inspiration or what binds us to the phenomenon. Nor does it make its case for or against Harry. Opening with a few comments from a fundamentalist muggle that believes Harry Potter will inspire our youth to engage in Dark Arts thus bringing about the fall of society, the doc shows promise. Then it gets weird. A brief interview with the founder of The Leaky Cauldron fansite gives hope. Then it gets weirder. And finally a brief foray into Warner Brothers attempt at squashing fansites spirals into stupidity.

This documentary is a poor representation of Potter fans. This muggle will pretend it doesn’t exist. You’d best served to do the same.

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

Though an apt description of my past week, The Nightmare Before Christmas is known as the film of young suburban misanthropic Goths.  Dazzling stopmotion animation delights onscreen, but this viewer found the movie lacking charm.  Full disclosure: I gave up after 38 minutes.

It seems Jack Skellington, the king of Halloween Town is tired of the screaming and scaring every 31st of October.  Somehow he finds the door to Christmas Land and is dumbfounded by it as I am of this film.

The self-indulgent score overpowers every element.  Jack Skellington seems to be a character worthy of our compassion, but his elocution is pitiful.  The viewer cannot relate if he does not understand.

Unique as it may be, The Nightmare Before Christmas falls flat.  Stop-motion animation is a fabulous technique.  The film is fascinating to look at, but  you quickly get over that to find the story is unappealing.  It's tedious.  The musicality is the film's weakness.  Garbled and monotonous, the songs just aren't good.

As I see it, Tim Burton and director Harry Selick missed the mark with this one.  I'm at a loss to explain the film's cult following.  The film is a mess.  Burton's Corpse Bride is a far superior piece. Selick fares better with James and the Giant Peach or the creepfest Coraline.  The Nightmare Before Christmas is just that.

Star Wars in Concert (2009)

I’m afraid that I misspoke. I believe The Killers have been topped by the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra and Anthony Daniels. Performing selections from John Williams’ iconic score, the Philharmonic was exquisite. But that was just the beginning...

Star Wars fans of all ages descended on the former Sommet Center, united in their love of a fictional universe. In the rotunda of the Center, untold movie memorabilia was displayed. Costumes, props, and other iconic pieces from the film series were within reach. It was truly breath-taking. You just wouldn’t understand.

Mingling with Stormtroopers and R2D2 was truly amazing. Boba Fett and Bossk mugging for the camera while Death Star troopers and pilots looked on. I felt a bit ridiculous acting as excited as the eight year old beside me. Unlike my companion, I was unable to temper my reserve. Fully embracing the fanboy within, I flitted from display to display, engaging fellow fanboys—smiling and oogling— just soaking it in.

Beckoned to our seats by the sounds of the Universe, I waited with bated breath. The little man beside me and I carried on until the voice of Darth Vader introduced ‘a part of the rebel alliance and traitor’ Sir Anthony Daniels. C3PO himself guided our journey through the Williams’ canon.

Divided into a series of acts, the score came alive at the hands of the orchestra. Exploring the universal themes found throughout the films, each note corresponded with an image on the huge LCD screen behind the orchestra. A few particular moments stand out:

• Just back from Intermission, we journey to a most wretched hive of scum and villainy--Mos Eisley Cantina.  Listening to the jazzed refrains coming from Figian D'an and the Modal Nodes were rockin.
• The rise and fall of Anakin Skywalker was a bittersweet mash-up.  It's no secret--my loathing of Lucas' prequel.  This act was heart-wrenching, but dispicable all the same
• The twin suns of Tatooine.  Need I say more?

Overall, the concert was a treasure.  The memories made and shared today are priceless.  Wish you could have joined me.

A Dickens of a Christmas (2009)

This weekend Downtown Historic Franklin Tennessee was transformed into 19th Century Victorian England.  Mr. Dickens' himself was out and about on the mild December day enjoying the revelry.

Tolerable as I was, my companion for the day, Angelino and I meandered through the town sightseeing and people watching.  The city streets lacked for not for entertainment.  Threatening to breck into some Riverdancing, I had to move Angelino along.  We were nearly trampled by the careening carriage.

Sadly, we were disappointed by the period dancing which turned about to be a square dance calling without the square dancing.  These folks look as if a spring of holly had be inserted in an most uncomfortable of locations.

Missing from the day's events were roasted chestnuts and actual characters.  Mr. Scrooge was a most displeasing man.  Cold and embittered, I felt a pang of sadness for a poor soul.  But I whole hearted agreed that anyone going about with a 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled in his own pudding with a stake of holly through his heart--especially after our foray into the Cool Springs Mecca--an unholy of places.  Consumerism is god.  Rudeness his maidservant.

The day was a rounding success in keeping with the situation!

Joyeux Noel (2005)

Inspired by the true events of WWI, Joyeux Noel recounts Christmas Eve 1914 when French, German, and scottich soldiers found common ground in thoughts of home. Building up to the Eve, we follow a French Lieutenant, a drafted world-class tenor, a Catholic priest, and a pair of brothers. The French receive champagne to celebrate the holiday on the front lines. The Scottish receive bagpipes, the Germans miniture Christmas trees much to chargrin of their commandant. From each foxholes rises a celebration uniquely their own.

On the strains of Silent Night a truce is made. The harsh realities of war are forgotten if only for a day. The soldiers share drinks and pictures of home. They pause soccer games and singing to bury their dead. As friendships emerge, each man resolves himself as when morning breaks they are to become enemies once more.

Filmed in German, French,and English, Joyeux Noel is a rare foreign film that transcends agendas in part to writer/director Christian Carion.  He keeps from the sentimental and chooses to celebrate humanity and showcase the futility of war.  He is steadfast in finding the beauty among the ugly.

Joyeux Noel is a more than a holiday film.  It is a drama of significance, celebrating a unique brotherhood.

Scrooge (1970)

Albert Finney (Big Fish, The Bourne Ultimatum) is Ebenezer Scrooge in this musical rendition of Charles Dickens’ perennial favorite. Thought I had seen every interpretation, but this musical was new to me. Scrooge isn’t cold, or witty, or hateful, but rather he looks to be sucking on sour marbles. The contorted, puckered face is off-putting.

The real treat is Sir Alec Guinness as Jacob Marley. The character has a stronger role here. In retrospect, one can see the influences of this film on the most recent release. I see Zemeckis’ version in a whole new light. The special effects found here are perfectly moribund. The ghosts of Past, Present, and Future Christmas are fascinating. But the film really lacks luster for me.

Let’s be honest. The musical number can’t win any awards. The warbling herein borders on torture. They all last a little too long. The Scrooge/Marley foray into hell is silly.

It’s funny how polarizing Dickens’ short story has become. Scrooge is the favorite of many a friend and colleague. I, however, am steadfast in my love of Alistair Sims. As I see it, there is a version for us all.  Which one do you prefer?  Do tell!

A Christmas Carol (1938)

This adaptation of the Dicken’s classic is an oldie but not too goodie. I don’t take issue with the artistic liberties of director Edwin Marin (The Invisible Man). Rather, I am disappointed by the lack of charm.

Reginald Owen (Mary Poppins) stars at Ebenezer. The poor man pales in comparison to Alistair Sims and George C. Scott. Gene Lockhart looks strangely familiar but I can’t place him. Overall, the cast is nice bunch of MGM stars.  Ann Rutherford is gorgeous as Ghost of Christmas Past.  Nephew Fred played by Barry Mackay is a real treat.

As I see it, you can’t go wrong with any adaptation of A Christmas Carol. I just prefer my gems to sparkle.  Interesting trivia: Lionel Barrymore was originally tapped to star in this version, but bowed out due to injury.

Bonus Feature: CD

With only one concert left in my 2009 season, this was by far the best of year. Coldplay was an amazing religious experience, but The Killers rocked the house. With infectious enthusiasm, Brandon Flowers and Co. help me relive that February evening at the Opry house with their latest CD/DVD release Live From The Royal Albert Hall.

The Killers tear through classics like Mr. Brightside and Somebody Told Me with raucous energy. But the focus of the 2+ hours is Day and Age. Right off the bat, Brandon knocks out beautiful renditions of Human and This Is Your Life. The acoustic version of Sam’s Town that tears the soul. All These Things That I’ve Done takes on new fresh new emotion.  My favorites Joy Ride and Spaceman incite the crowd to swing and sing along.

With bonus festival performances that include Tranquilize and Smile Like You Mean It, the set is everything a Victim wants. The live CD makes the concert portable and nothing is lost in transference. The Killers continue to show ballsy commitment in their live performances.  The Killers Live From The Royal Albert Hall is a must have. If you buy one CD this year, make it Day & Age.

James and the Giant Peach (1996)

Young orphan James lives with his two wicked aunts, Sponge and Spiker.  A slave to the spinsters, James world is a lonely, miserable place.  His only solice is the memory of his parents.  Enter a spilled bag of crocodile tongues.  Overnight a giant peach grows in the wasteland of the front yard.  Before long, the huge fruit is rolling James and an odd bunch of inhabitants away and towards his dream of New York City.  During the journey, James is kept company by a lady bug, spider, centipede, earthworm, and a grasshopper.

Devilishly engaging and wonderfully macabre, James and the Giant Peach is produced by Tim Burton, directed by Henry Selick and adapted from the Roald Dahl classic.  The film is perfect.  A blend of live action and motion capture, it's equal parts odd and charm.

The cast of characters make the film.  Voices by Richard Dreyfuss, Susan Sarandon, David Thewlis, and Paul Terry warm the heart.  Pete Postlethwaite is delightful in a quaint role.  Aunts Sponge and Spiker are frightening.  The dialogue between James and his creature counterparts is vibrant, filled with humor and emotion.

The story is simple, but multi-faceted and is just as I imagined it.  The production values are left of center, fitting beautifully with my third-grade memories.  From the aunt's creepy old, far from square house to the lucious flesh of the peach, every image jumps from the scene making a vivid fantasy.

As I see it, James and the Giant Peach is a brilliant adaptation of a fine children's book.  Don't miss the perfect storm found herein.

Bonus Feature: CD

With lyrics like 'starting to feel a little abused like a coffee machine in an office' and 'I might steal your clothers and wear them if they fit me', don't look to Shakira's latest for thought-provoking lyricism.  But...  She Wolf explodes with sexuality and tight arrangments.

A range of influences can be found in this 16 track set which includes a few in her native language and live versions of Gypsy and She Wolf.  Each song reflects its producer exactly.  Pherrell Williams from The Neptunes blends his urban heritage with Latino simplicity on six of the tracks.  Long Time is a stunner.

Men in This Town is an ode to Matt Damon--you know, guys in general.  It's the longing in a girl's heart quantified.  Can't wait to hear this one remixed. Party in the USA is so last week! 

Gypsy doesn't try too hard and that aformentioned lyric does irritate my logical nature.  But beneath the amatuerish lyricism is a layered piece that includes sitar if I had to guess.  It's hypnotic and slightly stupid.

Wyclef Jean pops up in what is easily the albums best track.  Spy includes an inspired 'wah' that kills.  It's fun and earworm-worthy.  The track's freshness belies an explosive aggression.

Mon Amour is gorgeous FU that every girl can relate too.  Inspired and empowering.

Current 'it' boys Lil Wayne and Kid Cudi moonlight on a couple of club tracks that dare you not to move.  Simple back beats laid by Timbaland let Wayne flow typical nonsense.  Shakira gets to 'swing her hips like numchucks'--it's eye-rolling nonsense, but it oozes sexy.

Ultimately, She Wolf reflects its author.  Like Shakira, it's an unapologetic, smart, sexy album that revels in the feminine mystique.

The History Channel Presents: Christmas Unwrapped (2005)

The origins of the most celebrated holiday and its greatest traditions are examined in this History Channel special.  It's not all holly jolly; so don't watch if you don't want to know.  Harry Smith narrates.

Rooted in Pagan rituals, Christmas became the commericalized event it is now long after the Puritans banned, the Catholics assumed it, and England reveled in it.  The History Channel--much like this holiday-- is no respecter of religions so those who deem Christmas to be the birth of the Christ child could be dismayed.

Bawdy events of the Norse Winter Solstice would eventually become the first 'Christmas'.  It was a day of debauchery.  When the taverns and pubs couldn't be banned, our religious ancestors chose to 'join' them.  Poinsettias, St. Nick, and the first Christmas trees and cards--courtesy of Prince Albert--are traced through history with often time interesting results.  The history behind Dickens' short story and its effects on the holiday are equally interesting.

Christmas Unwrapped is a historical treat for holiday lovers.  The documentary makes no judgements, but serves to inform.  So whether you worship at the Wal-Mosque or not, the holiday is ultimately what you make it.  Grab your wassail and enjoy!

Ghostbusters II (1989)

Five years after saving New York from the apocalypse, the Ghostbusters have been disbanded. Drs Ray, Egon, and Venkman have moved on with new careers. And Dana Barrett has done some moving on of her own. Dana now has a baby. Unfortunately for her, a diabolical tyrant—Vigo the Carpathian—has chosen baby Oscar for his new home.

In Ghostbusters II , the entire gang has returned—unheard of by sequel standards. Also typical of sequels—suckiness. But you won’t find that here, not under Ivan Reitman’s direction. Ghostbusters II is essentially more of the same. Ooze, crazy 80’s soundtrack, and Bill Murray.

The set-up is classic. A river of ooze is flowing beneath New York City. Filled with the hate and vile of residence, the emotionally reactive goo is ready to explode. But after raging a war on slime that cost the city millions, the mayor is reluctant to let the Ghostbusters do their thing.

From Murray to Akroyd, Ecto-1 to Potts, every successful element from the first film returns. Because of that, the film feels more that familiar. Even without the top-notch, biting dialogue, there is plenty to engage. The addition of Peter MacNichol is a good turn.

The film’s examination of life beyond the trio (sorry, I’m not counting the token black) is fun. Ray’s bookstore is a total laugh. Spengler’s near cult-like following is a hoot. And Venkman’s become a cheese-filled TV host. Each spin fits our beloved characters well.

Ghostbusters II is a nice compliment. The tried and true formula is solid. As I am late to the bandwagon, the film further cements Bill Murray as an amazingly multi-faceted actor. As I see it, if you loved the first, you’ll enjoy the second.

Ghostbusters (1984)

After Drs. Peter Venkman (Bill Murray), Raymond Stantz (Dan Aykroyd), and Egon Spengler (Harold Ramis) are kicked out of the university, the trio goes into business exterminating poltergeists and supernatural pests of all planes. Discovering their first client (Sigourney Weaver) lives in the penthouse that seems to be the gateway from some hideous evil means the ghostbusters must stop a coming disaster of biblical proportions.

The charm of Ghostbusters lies in its simplicity. Unpretentious but authentic, Ghostbusters perfectly combines key elements for success. Dialogue, character development/casting, scoring.  It’s spot-on.

Bill Murray and his dead-pan delivery are priceless. As Venkman, the lady killer parapsychologist, he kills with highly quotable one-liners throughout the film. Aykroyd plays the naive straight-man with his scientific jargon. Ramis, the silent partner, gets a few one-liners of his own amid an otherwise dour shift. The chemistry between these three is unbeatable. Supporting cast including Weaver, Annie Potts, Rick Moranis, the eventual ‘token black’ ghostbuster played by Ernie Hudson, and the dick-less EPA inspector all add layers of interest and humor.

The combination of director Ivan Reitman and writers Murray/Ramis (I forgive you for Stripes) is tight. Reitman paces Ghostbusters well, keeps it from jumping the shark, and reigns in our cast without harming them or the film. The special effects, while dated, are charming and add another layer to love. The culmination of the Stay-Puft marshmallow man is great. (Apparently, I’m the only one left who didn’t see that coming.) Equally fun is Weaver’s evolution to David Bowie.

After viewing Ghostbusters for the first time, it is remarkably easy to see why the film continues to pervade pop culture 20+ years later. This is a film that makes you want to watch. As I see it, Reitman has made an absolute classic worthy of your love and mine.

Bruno (2009)

I don't know exactly what to call this satiric piece from Sacha Baron Cohen. 'Disgusting' comes to mind and that's really a shame. What could have been an insightful spoof is content to be stupidity.

Baron Cohen's character, Bruno, is a homosexual fashionista immigrating to America with one thing on his mind: being famous. Through a series of missteps and vast gayness, we follow Bruno being ridiculous. The events herein are random and ill-fitting. Nothing makes sense. Its Bruno flaunting his genitalia or watching other people flaunt theirs. What Ron Paul, Paula Abdul, or a black baby named OJ has to do with an Austria queer is beyond me.

Bruno is hardly polarizing—it’s harmless really due to the inane nature. It doesn’t bring anything positive or thought-provoking to the screen.. It’s as if Baron Cohen sets out to shock, nothing more. Anyone—gay or straight—will find the film repulsive. This is not funny.

I viewed this film with overwhelming incredulousness. I question the film’s entertainment value as well. Henceforth, I will pretend this garbage doesn’t exist.

Land of the Lost (2009)

Perservence is needed should viewers wish to partake of Will Ferrell's latest offering Land of the Lost.  Rest assured, you will be lost amid a hodge-podge of useless banter and unfunny moments.  This adventure starved mess-terpiece is a vehicle of stupidity amid inane pop culture.

Ferrell stars as an palentologist who is laughed at and dismissed by his collegues for strange theories.  Year later, Dr. Rick Marshall is found at the natural history museum being derided by elementary school students.  Joined by a beautiful woman and Danny McBride, stupidity ensues.

Land of the Lost isn't funny.  It's stupid.  I'm unsure about the 'inspiration' of the original television series.  What is certain is this film is way too ridiculously random to be of any merit.  Various pop-culture references are made, but even they are not worth the time.

Avoid this mess at all costs.  Right about now, I'm wishing for 90 minutes of my life back.

Underworld (2003)

For centuries, a war has raged between vampires and lycans. In the modern day, the lycans are all but extinct thanks in part to vampire warrior Selene (Kate Beckinsale). When she discovers the lycan are hunting a human, she will stop at nothing to find the truth—even if it means waking Viktor (Bill Nighy).

Let me digress for a moment—Bill Nighy is awesome! The guy doesn’t make a bad movie. Romantic comedies, blockbusters, period films, dramas… Supporting or lead role, Nighy owns each and always executes brilliantly.

Underworld, in essence, is a retelling of the Montagues and the Capulets. With Gothic tendencies, it’s a highly-stylized film with little bite. But it's fun.

Director Les Wiseman sets the stage with a narrative from Selene. Without that, we’d have more of a mindless romp. Casting is an interesting mix. Again, Bill Nighy as Viktor—overlord of the coven—is amazing!! Kate Beckinsale looks amazing, but is otherwise wooden despite attempts at affection. Scott Speedman, the human object of her affection is horribly reminiscent of Scott Sapp and is a complete turnoff.

The production is dark, rainy, and doesn’t follow its own rules, even breaking with horror conventions. Underworld doesn't effectively build suspense of terror; it builds action sequences and disjointed dramatic moments. But it’s fun.

The special effects are well done. The change from human to lycan is often shrouded, the transition is believable. Viktor’s resurrection was seamless. The cascades of silver and ultra-violet bullets aren’t nearly as cool as what you’ll find in The Matrix. Take heart, viewer. The leather-clan Beckinsale matches Trinity corset for corset.

So what is Underworld? It’s a violent, sexy, and uneven story that ultimately adds nothing to either genre. The idea is good; the legend behind it even better; the execution just isn't there. To enjoy Underworld is to not expect much.

Food, Inc. (2009)

“You are buying the idea of a tomato.” With that Food, Inc. sets out to explore the food industry’s effects on our health and our world. Through a series of interviews and investigations director Robert Kenner removes the veil behind the politics of food and just why a McDonald’s hamburger is cheaper than the head of lettuce.

One must be vigilant with films of this nature. Often these documentaries tend to be of a sensational nature. But in Food, Inc. you will find nothing but the awful truth. Ignorance may be bliss in this instance.  Don't watch if you don't want to know. Kenner is remarkably honest and more than willing to share both sides. Only trouble is Monsanto, Smithfield, and Tyson don’t want to talk.

Amid interviews with authors Eric Schlosser and Michael Pollan, we meet Tyson chicken farmers and Monsanto soybean growers who, in essence, are being bullied into producing a product cheaper and faster, but not (and often less) healthy. Making matters worse is the conflict on interest found on Capitol Hill.  Case in point: Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas was once an attorney for Monsanto. As a judge, he signed into effect laws which now threaten to crush local Midwestern farmers. Century farmers are being extorted and often shut down thanks to Monsanto’s genetically modified seed patents. Tyson, Perdue, Smithfield, IBP… they are all given the opportunity to refute the facts presented here, but remain silent.

Thankfully, Kenner doesn’t leave the audience in fear of the impending food apocalypse. Stoneyfield Farms and its blossoming relationship with Wal-Mart is an interesting chain of events. Wal-Mart—the Mecca of Consumerism—is listening to its customers demands. But the wisdom dispensing Joel Salatin of Polyface Farms brings a real charm to the film.

The film has many horrifying moments—the tomato just being one of them. With the holidays upon us, this viewer will be hard pressed to look at that ham without recalling the trucked in illegal immigrants (farmers that NAFTA put out of business) that now process that Smithfield ham and who might have lost his thumb during an endless work week. When he does finally get to his ‘home’, the ICE agents are there to meet him.

Food, Inc. is a provocative, disgusting expose that doesn’t preach. Rather it offers only the truth and a simple solution for affecting change. American’s corporate agribusinesses are threatening our lives and while Food, Inc. may not be a life-changing catalyst, it will nonetheless raise consumer awareness. And that is never a bad thing.

A Christmas Carol (2009)

Robert Zemeckis was going to lose this battle the moment I set foot in the theatre. Nothing compares to the classic 1951 version starring Alistair Sims. But in Zemeckis’ defense (not that he needs any); his animated adaptation of the iconic tale is a delightful reimaging.

Admirably faithful to Dickens’s tale, A Christmas Carol takes few artist liberties. The ones that Zemeckis bravely executes add a modern charm that is commendable. The 3-D effects (now, for the record, this is the first film that I’ve viewed since the 3D epidemic took hold in Hollywood) are arresting and beautifully rendered.

Star of the show—Jim Carrey, surprisingly enough, is lost in the film. Though we see glimmers of the spastic star, the motion-capture is top-notch and his ugly face doesn’t come through. Scrooge's expressions are more lifelike with subtle changes. Colin Firth as Scrooge’s nephew is a sweet surprise. Bob Cratchit (voiced by Gary Oldman) is a bulbous, nearly lifeless fellow--a true disappointment.

The Ghosts of Past, Present, and Future rendered are faithful, if sometimes oddly frightening. A few particularly dark scenes mar an otherwise family-friendly fare. They are truly terrifying and out of character, but I am a classicist. Modern film-goers will find no issues with the aforementioned.

The scoring is complimentary. Andrea Bocelli sings a beautiful piece over the nondescript closing credits. What a waste!

Here’s the part where I leave, once again, my readers with a quizzical expression. Visually, Zemekis’ A Christmas Carol is arresting, but often times, I feel the ‘flying over and through London’ is pure filler, detracting from essential elements. At one point, I felt nauseous. Additionally, I take to task the overly diabolical element of our specters. This film does not have the charm of previous renditions, nor do I think it captures the true spirit of the novel.

This version is all style with no substance. But criticisms aside, most movie-goers will find A Christmas Carol a decent if unsatisfying film.

Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

In Seattle, a young boy conspires to find happiness for his widower father, Sam (Tom Hanks) by calling into a radio show. On the other side of the radio (and country) is Annie Reed (Meg Ryan) who falls in love with Sam and his son Jonah. A letter from Annie convinces Jonah that she’s the one for his dad. But convincing his Sam is harder than he expects.

Nora Ephron’s romantic comedy is a sweet tale of fate, but it contains little substance and what a shame that is. Still Sleepless in Seattle gets something right. The chemistry between Hanks and Ryan is genuine but we never see much of it. Both of them have delightful comedic timing; they are a joy to watch—as is the entire supporting cast with such names as Victor Garbor, Bill Pullman, David Hyde Pierce, Rosie O’Donnell, and Rita Wilson. It’s a nice balance.

The integration of An Affair to Remember is smartly done, but under Ephron’s direction Sleepless in Seattle is uniquely its own. The biggest caveat for me is our unlucky couple don’t have nearly enough ‘almost meetings’. The focus seems to be on Jonah’s hope for his dad. It’s perfectly precious without the cloying nonsense.

As I see it, Sleepless in Seattle is an adorable movie that relishes in happy endings for all. Less is more and this film proves it.

Will Ferrell: You're Welcome America: A Final Night with George W. Bush (2009)

Will Ferrell's humor isn't for anyone, but his quick wit and quirky manners kill me.  Here, Ferrell brings the Dubyah impersonation he honed on SNL to Broadway with this one-man show.  Eight years in office gave Ferrell plenty of material, but this two hour DVD is laborous at best.  Ferrell has moments of funny, but there are more moments of stupidity than anything.  As a HUGE Ferrell fan, I was disappointed, not by the nearly mean-spirited skewering, but by the trawling.  Can't imagine anyone enjoying this. 

Sorry Will.  It needed more cowbell!

Year One (2009)

I have a question. Who thinks this is funny?! Endless sex and fart jokes do NOT make a movie. Who green lights a screenplay like this?! The same people who like Paul Blart, if you ask me.

Zed (Jack Black) and Oh (former It-boy Michael Cera) are two idiot cavemen that have an adventure laden journey through the ancient world after being kick out of their tribe for stupidity. Unlike Bill and Ted, Oh and Zed are lame. Strangely, it doesn’t seem to matter that Olive Platt, Hank Azaria, Zander Berkley, Horatio Sans, and Olivia Wilde pop up.

Year One is just not funny.

Postscript 11.07.09 ~ Herein lies the film's demise.  It's too long.  Watch the theatrical version and Year One is wee bit more palatable.

Rope (1948)

Two friends Brandon and Phillip (John Dall and Farley Granger) have killed their 'inferior' friend David and now plan to relish it by having a dinner party with David right under nose of his fiancé, parents, and their former professor, Rupert Cadell (James Stewart). Have the two committed the perfect murder? Only the night will tell. Odd clues lead Rupert to question the entire evening; he wonders if his former students have taken his academic theories a little too far.
Alfred Hitchcock's Rope is a Technicolor masterpiece. Though it’s never quite as suspenseful as Hitchcock’s other, Rope is masterful for what it accomplishes nonetheless. Set in one room, the camera never seems cut off. Each frame feels like one continuous motion. That alone is amazing. As the gentlemen scheme, we get a sense of the diabolical. True to form, Hitchcock doesn’t spell it, trusting his audience to connect the dots.

The friendship is fascinating in itself. Brandon, the dominant one, oozes evil and obnoxious. Phillip, the submissive, is a mere boy. David is strangled with a rope and placed in a chest. The friends then set candelabras, plates, and food on the grandiose chest. Janet—his fiancé, his father, the cynical Professor, all invited under a ruse, dines in the presence of this chest.

As the evening continues, Brandon parades about. Every second brings more confidence to his step in Nietzsche-esque repose. Phillip quickly begins to crumble. Agitated, sweaty, stumbled words—combined with his unusual outburst, it’s enough for Cadell to ask questions.

It’s not until the dinner guests leaves, that Rope amps up. Returning to the apartment under the guise of forgetting his cigarette case, Cadell slowly picks the two friends apart. Jimmy Stewart brilliantly executes his role of learned professor and social misfit to a tee. Slowly plotting, encouraging the boys to comfort, Cadell nails the murders through their own missteps.

The period setting is one of refinement. The backdrop of NYC plays from day to night in the windows of the apartment. In retrospect, prop usage is remarkable, seamless, really. The dialogue is wickedly humorous and comfortable. Rope’s climax—Stewart’s soliloquy—is a brilliant piece of writing.

As I see it, Alfred Hitchcock's Rope is yet another exquisite film from the master director. Technically seamless, engaging from the start, movies like Rope, is why I watch.

A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

Before leaving town Addie Ross wrote a letter to Lora Mae (Linda Darnell), Deborah (Jeanne Crain), and Rita (Ann Sothern). As the three married woman board a boat to vacation, Addie’s letter arrives to tell them that she has run off with one of their husbands. As the boat floats on, each wife recalls just what might have driven their husbands into the arms of the sophisticated ideal woman. Lora Mae is a girl from the wrong side of the tracks—literally. Holding out for an advantageous marriage, makes her nothing but a gold-digger to her businessman husband (Paul Douglas). While in the war, Deborah was something. Returning to civilian life makes this country girl married to a socialite husband stick out in the upper-class neighborhood. Rita is a housewife turned career woman who neglects her schoolteacher husband (Kirk Douglas). Each woman ruminates on her life and her husband. Each secretly hopes it’s another woman’s man, but worries it’s her own.

A Letter to Three Wives is a stunning masterpiece directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz (Cleopatra, All About Eve). The story, told through a series of flashbacks, is flawless. The beautiful narrative by Addie is just the beginning. The script is to die for and overall performances by the entire cast make this film rich with emotion.

Our female leads are multi-faceted, flawed characters that are fundamentally the same. Each wants a happy life with their respective husband. However, this unknown Addie has a far reaching effect. Each woman is concerned she’s just not good enough. Linda Darnell is stunningly gorgeous. Ann Sothern is equally top-notch. The husbands are particularly fine. Kirk Douglas as George, Rita’s husband is perhaps the most riveting of the three, but Paul Douglas threatens to steal his show.

The production is top-notch. Rich in black and white, A Letter to Three Wives evokes a glamorous time not only of Hollywood, but of everyday life. Virtually unheard of in modern times, this post-WWII setting is full of life, hope, and definitively gendered roles. The film’s classic style is true to the time, but it’s still shocking to see such blatant cigarette use and even some of the dialogue will raise an eyebrow. Not offending, mind you, just different given the current state of affairs.

A Letter to Three Wives is an authentic examination of relationships, showcasing not only the paranoia, but the good and the bad. Results are not guaranteed.

As I see it, A Letter to Three Wives is a genuine classic. With crisp cinematography and every element beautifully executed, this drama is one worthy of its accolades.

Dirty Dancing (1987)

As the last person in the world to see this one, I had some shame. Unfortunately, Patrick Swayze’s death was the impetus for seeing Dirty Dancing. Until now my exposure to Swayze’s talent was Saturday Night Live, Keeping Mum {sex-fiend golf instructor—priceless!}, Red Dawn {classic}, Donnie Darko {still hate that one} and Road House {zen bouncer—love it!}. No, I haven’t seen Ghost. Deal.

So we have the coming of age story of ‘Baby’ Houseman (Jennifer Grey) who expects a lame summer, but instead finds an uber-hot dancer instructor (Swayze).

Dirty Dancing is filled with melodrama and bad hair. Still, I like it and I’m at a loss for why. Is it Swayze’s sultry moves across the dance floor? ‘Cause it sure isn’t his hair. Perhaps it’s the tender caress down Baby’s body. It’s certainly not that lame sneer or incessant hip thrust. Enough! Act already! Jennifer Grey is cute as a button. Who knew her fashion sense would come full circle?!

Dirty Dancing is ultimately a one-trick pony. Its predictability was fun, but I had delusions of grandeur. I called for Johnny to die a fiery death in his car after Baby’s dad (Jerry Orbach) dressed him down. That would have been so much more tragic and wistful. Guess that’s why I’m not screenwriter. The climaxing musical number is delightfully sweet.

Dirty Dancing is entertainment. While I don’t feel my life is necessarily enriched for seeing it, I feel less of a leper. And that’s a nice feeling.

31 More Days of Horror: Christine (1983)

With great deft, director John Carpenter creates yet another classic horror film in Christine. He effortlessly builds a monster in an inanimate object. And what begins as a nerdy senior who buys his first car, a real beater, becomes a tale of obsession and fear.

Key to the film is Christine, the 1958 Plymouth Fury.  I haven’t experienced this much fear of an auto since seeing Spielberg's Duel earlier in the year. Surprisingly, the special effects used on Christine are slick, but oddly believable. Vengeful and jealous, Christine will stop at nothing to keep Arnie for herself, methodically eliminating those who would dare to hurt Arnie. Keith Gordan as Arnie is quite convincing. His evolution from nerd to cocky punk is brilliantly played with cold assuredness. John Stockwell as his best friend Dennis is perfect foil. Their dialogue inside Christine is a highpoint in the film. Dennis is petrified by fear for himself and his friend. Arnie gripped by madness seems unaffected.

Creating an atmosphere of terror and suspense, Carpenter plays the deaths well. The assault on Mooch is spine-tingling, but it’s the demise of Buddy that I remember most vividly—Christine on fire, gunning for buddy. *shivers* Arnie’s viciousness peaks alongside his car. The exchange with his father correlates beautifully with Christine’s plotting.

Who is brave enough to separate this man and machine? The final stand between the bewitched and the boy couldn’t be more intense.

Christine is a simple masterpiece thanks to Carpenter’s unfailing direction. He succeeds beautifully in blending modest effects, dialogue, and story into a haunting tale. Oh, not to be overlooked is the ever present, but almost subliminal scoring that never fails to deliver that extra frightening touch. They don’t make movies like this anymore.

31 More Days of Horror: John Carpenter's The Fog (1980)

Anything that opens with an Edgar Allen Poe quote has potential, but with director John Carpenter at the helm The Fog is so much more. Carpenter has created a creepy atmospheric ghost story in The Fog. Understated and eerie, the silhouetted revenge seeking century-old shipwreck victims turned villains provide efficient scares without the gore.

Opening with crusty old fisherman telling a ghost story to riveted children gathered around the campfire, Carpenter sets his audience up for the scare. A piece of driftwood surfaces and a glowing fog moving against the wind sets the tone.

A solid including Hal Holbrook, Janet Leigh, Jamie Lee Curtis and Adrienne Barbeau provide certain realism as residents of Antonio Bay. The town is preparing to celebrate their 100th birthday. Unbeknownst to township, the fog plans to drop in. Stevie Wayne (Barbeau) is the primary voice of our film as the local DJ. Each of the villagers adds a particular element of surprise, distain, and/or horror that is believable as they become prey for the watery phantoms.

Carpenter is content to build the tension slowly with wide shots of unpopulated expanse. As the fog envelopes the small hamlet, the chilling score ebbs and flows furthering the chill. The seaweed shrouded monsters success lies in the sounds and actions emitting, not the look. Carpenter is smart. You never actually see them. Rather you hear the distinct rap on the door and the particular squish of wet footsteps. The unfurling fog plays a character as well. Watching it swell around people, places, and things, the fog has uncanny finger-like tendrils that reach into the night. The suspense is unwavering and its release can’t come soon enough.

From the moment we discover the first body, The Fog is set to scare. With the addition of the cursed driftwood, we know something bigger it at hand. Though a humble and often forgotten production, John Carpenter’s The Fog is a truly terrifying masterpiece.

As I see it, this film alongside Halloween and The Thing will become an integral part—Carpenter’s trifecta—that is a must see around this time of year.

31 More Days of Horror: Session 9 (2001)

An asbestos removing crew is called into the Danvers State Mental Hospital. Phil (David Caruso) and Gordon lead a small team to remove the material a week. Unfortunately for them, Danvers State has some terrible secrets lurking. As Hank (Josh Lucas) begins removal downstairs, would-be lawyer Mike discovers a treasure trove of documents and interviews with former patients. Shared fascination with patient #444 leads every man unnerved.

Session 9 is a slow-burning, genuinely creepy psychologial thriller. It’s wonderfully atmospheric—set in a decaying, haunted building that once housed society’s rejects.  Writer/director Brad Anderson's uncompromising touch makes this one smart.

We don’t know everything about these blue collar workers, but from moment the job begins, we suspect something’s not right. What, we can’t quite pin down. But as the week progresses, each man begins to suffer the effects of Danvers State.  The derilict building is alive. An unexplainable tension that threatens to drive everyone—including the viewer—to the brink of insanity. And that’s only the beginning.

Two pivotal scenes evoke bone-chilling horror. Hank discovers old silver coins in the corner of one of the lower corridors. Knocking out the brick, coins, rings, bracelets, dentures, and glass eyes come pouring out. He doesn’t figure out he’s discovered the backside of the crematorium. In the other, Jeff is being chased by palpable darkness.

I hestitate to say more as the film’s success is in what you don’t see coming. As Mike’s obsession with patient #444 becomes more apparent and the cognizant viewer recognizes the parallels, the damage is complete and Anderson sets the stage for a truly disturbing climax.

Session 9 is an original, haunting film that you won’t be able to get out of your head. It’s ambiguitity requires the audience to think and maintain awareness because your life depends on it. There is no monster to be found in the dark, decaying corridors of Danvers State. But something is there and with every ‘OS’ moment, we get closer to it.

31 More Days of Horror: Drag Me to Hell (2009)

Set in modern day—I know, scary enough, the story follows the results of an up-and-coming loan officer Christine (Alison Lohman) who turns down an extension request made by a creepy Gypsy woman. An altercation in the parking garage convinces Alison that she has been cursed. A consultation with a psychic confirms it. Christine has three days. With the help of her boyfriend (insufferable Justin Long) and the psychic, Christine will try to keep her soul from being dragged to hell.

If you’ll check your common sense at the door, Drag Me to Hell is a solid scare. The main trouble with this one is Sam Raimi. He can build an effective thrill, a top-notch scare, a mind-boggling protagonist—but he always seems to temper it an overdosing portion of cheese. As a director Raimi consistently frustrates me because he builds the horror perfectly then kills it with humor.

The haunting of Christine is wonderfully creepy. The special effects are crazy good—the gypsy in particular. Whether it’s something tangible like a fly or the spirit realm, Raimi delivers the goods, but not the plot. Grab the popcorn and get set to scream!

As I mentioned yesterday, Drag Me to Hell is based on the 1957 classic Night of the Demon. While it’s not necessary to have seen the B&W version to enjoy this—Raimi spells it out—I do think a certain edge is maintained if you’ve seen the original. Regardless Drag Me to Hell is just the movie you want to see this time of year.

31 More Days of Horror: Night of the Demon (1957)

Curse of the Demon and its better British counterpart, Night of the Demon is a classic bit of horror. It’s the story of a crazed cult leader/magician who curses a psychology professor—and the inspiration for this year’s Drag Me to Hell. Dr. Holden (Dana Andrews), gentleman scholar and man of science dismisses the whack job and continues the investigation of the magician’s cult. An unwarranted slip of parchment is the death knell.

Unlike most horror films, director Jacques Tourneur exposes the demon almost immediately. Given the period, the demon is remarkably well presented. The director then spends the remainder of his time advancing the darkness keeping our stoic protagonist and the viewers on edge as we investigate the supernatural. We’ve seen the demon and it is scary, but it’s the other creeping events that really thrill.

The B&W production plays head games with the viewers. Long dark corridors are filled with lurking shadows. The wind seems colder and the night is longer than ever before. Alongside intelligent dialogue and characterization, the series of eerie events culminate for a thrilling end. A malevolent score further cements the fright.

The cult leader and his crazy mom help in one of the tersest scenes. At the request of Dr. Holden, a séance is held. Calling back Dr. Holden’s dead colleague leads to a bone-chilling accusation. See the film for this sequence alone.

Beautifully atmospheric, Night of the Demon simply asks it’s viewers to discern reality from imagination. But with the tempest at hand, that task is easier said than done.

Let Love Rule!

Experiencing a concert at the legendary Ryman Auditorium is like a religious event. The historic intimate setting allows for revival of sorts especially in the company of fellow concert goers. With Lenny Kravitz and his band filling the hallowed room with raucous refrains, you couldn’t help but be spirit filled.

A ho-hum opening set from some odd Canadian Muslim, the slim rock god saunter on stage. Rousing the crowd to its feet was easy; keeping them there was second nature as Kravitz way-laid into each crunching chord. His afro’d lead guitarist channeled freaking Jimi Hendrix—it was transcendental really.

Lenny’s focus for the night was love. Love for Nashville, his fans, his band, and the 20th anniversary of Let Love Rule. In return, the audience loved him back singing and swaying along with nearly every word. The concert was one non-stop jam session with long random guitar, horn, organ, or drum tangents between classics like Fly Away and Mr. Cab Driver.
It was a simply gorgeous evening!

31 More Days of Horror: Splinter (2008)

Seth (Paulo Costanzo) and Polly (Jill Wager) have planned this trip for weeks--anniversary sex under the stars. But when they become hostages of an escape convict Dennis (Shea Whigham) and his girl Lacey (Rachel Kerbs), the couple aren't sure they will survive the ride. After hitting a bump in the road that causes a flat tire, the foursome finds themselves prey of a bloodthirsty parasite. Trapped inside an abandoned gas station, the couples are forced to come together to outsmart the vicious splinter attacks from an unknown predator.

Splinter is a well executed indie horror movie that delivers. The movie knows exactly what its doing. The plot is simple: horny kids attacked. It's what director Toby Wilkins does with the screenplay that is so good.

Wilkins quickly amps up a mediocre beginning into a terse, claustrophobic standoff between victims and prey. Flickering sequences of gory demises and simple cinematography keep the film nicely paced.  The solid cast of no names provide human interest. But Splinter stays on target, disposing of them succinctly. Sure the film takes a few liberties, but the scare is so riveting you won't notice until after the credits roll.

Just how successful is Splinter? This viewer started on the sofa, but after the first vicious attack, spent the remainder of the film pacing back and forth.

31 More Days of Horror: Cube (1997)

If prime numbers scare you, then you best sit this one out. Otherwise you'll want to see this one for the horrific deaths. Saw-like in its execution, but esoteric in its origin, Cube will frustrate the modern cinema-goer, but will delight the existentialist. Six people are trapped in a maze of interlocking cubes with no apparent way out.

Low budget and quite visceral, Cube is an effective examination of madness and murder. The viewer is essentially dropped in with the characters. There are no explanations, no clues, no method before madness takes over. Though we quickly establish that some cubes are diabolical booby-traps, there is no release for our tension. As the group explores, peril is imminent. We just never know when.

The death sequences are quick, but top-notch. Often it’s the paranoia-inducing setting amid the claustrophobic cube that is more frightening. The human experiment is fascinating.  As personalities conflict, the group's evolution and ultimate demise is apparent, but its subtlety is chilling.

Numerophobes beware! Solving the Cube requires the genius in the group to factor prime numbers.  But even is math isn't your strong suit, for the longsuffering, the reward is well-worth the torture.

31 More Days of Horror: Grindhouse: Planet Terror (2007)

I’ve heard a few people this film called many things. ‘Awesome’ and ‘instant classic’ come to mind. Allow me to call it something too. I’m leaning toward ‘ridiculous’ or ‘insulting’. Writer/director Robert Rodriguez channels his inner Quentin Tarantino to create a self-aggrandizing homage film.

Everything about this biohazard zombie film is intentional—the crappy dialogue, the B-movie look, the melodrama, the bloody splatter and gore—it’s all supposed to be an awesome artsy send-up to the 1970s horror gems. Planet Terror is one unintentional disappointment. The film is neither entertaining nor inspired. It’s just a God-awful mess.

Incessant blood spurting is only the tip of this revolting iceberg that includes heads exploding like water balloons, random events that include some type of dismemberment—it’s all death spiral of stupidity. The film has an air of obnoxiousness that deflates any attempts at humor. The gritty nature should work for the film but instead further emphasizes the inadequacies of production.

Rodriguez and is ilk must enjoying beating off to this bullsh!t as I can’t see that Planet Terror serves any other purpose. Bruce Willis—I’m calling you out. Much like Samuel L Jackson in Snakes on a Plane—your role here is enough to make me boycott every film you’ll ever do again. It’s disgusting that you try to add some validity to this mess. Shame on you!!

In order to be successful a film of this nature must have purpose and not run scatter-shod. It is all too apparent that Rodriguez had no plan of action or rather he threw it to the wind. Regardless, the end product is torturous rubbish that I wish never to have witnessed. To think this insipid mess-terpiece actually has a market offends me and should be considered an affront to the true masters of the form. Planet Terror is a nasty hack job that should be avoided at all costs. With no redeeming qualities—none—zombie aficionados owe it to themselves NOT to see this movie.

31 More Days of Horror: Creepshow (1982)

Simply the best horror anthology, I though I’d reviewed this gem of a collection before. With the collaboration of director George A. Romero and writer Stephen King, Creepshow is a perfect balance of campy and creep. The cast is to die for and with Tom Savini applying his trademark gore; the film is a real classic!

The Crate with Hal Holbrook will have you rethinking warning signs. A crate is discovered under the stairs in the base of the university. It contains a hungry monster that Prof. Northrup has decided to use on his badgering wife Wilma. The strongest of the five stories, it is certainly the most memorable with monster gore.  The dream sequences of Holbrook imagining his shrewish wife's death are hysterical.

Jordy Verrill (Stephen King) is a self-described lunkhead who makes contact with a meteorite. The evolution of the story is a more funny that horrific. It’s the special effects that are the real treat.

On Father’s Day a murdered man returns to from the grave to strike back as his good-for-nothing, greedy relatives. The patriarch might have been a beast while alive; but he's come back as a monster!  Dependent on make-up and lighting, this gem is more a must see for a young Ed Harris and his dance moves.

My favorite stars Leslie Nielson as a diabolical husband who buries his cheating wife and her lover (Ted Danson) in the sand up to their necks and walks away. He assumes that the tide will take them down. You know what they say about assuming… This one is perfectly nuanced, claustrophobic, and dark.

And finally, the creature feature that centers on cockroaches. As someone with a great fear (thanks X-Files) of these little buggers, this one freaks me out!! A Scrooge-esque business man Upson Pratt lives in a bubble. The purpose of his newly designed uber –clean, highly sanitized, futuristic apartment is to prevent the creepy-crawlies from getting in. Epic fail! And the cockroaches come after him in a bad way. The climax here is a heebie-jeebies inducing nightmare!!

Each story is book ended by a boy who loves comic books, but whose stressed-out dad is a total douche. Jumping off the page and onto film, Creepshow is a perfect mash-up of gore, humor, creep and thrills. A real classic!!

31 More Days of Horror: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)

The inspiration for many films including two of its own remakes, the original B&W version still stands the test of time. Invasion of the Body Snatchers holds it’s own against modern horror thanks to masterful direction and the perfect build of paranoia.

Dr. Miles Bennell (Kevin McCarthy) is skeptical when he returns to his small town practice to find many of his patients complaining of the same story. A loved one is acting oddly, almost as if they have been replaced. A man of science, Dr. Bennell immediately dismisses the events, but before long strange things occur that don’t add up.

Dr. Bennell and the viewer begin to question everything. Who can we trust? Director Don Siegel delivers a tense, succinct classic that makes great use of minimalist elements. There’s no obvious demon. Instead we have a hunch. Acting on that hunch, the quest for truth will result in one of two things: insanity or death.

The casting is simply top-notch. Believability it key. The overall composition of the production is beautiful. Siegel makes great us of shadow to exhaust emotion. The score is another key element. Its ability to summon chills and drive the story subconsciously is the mark of a job well done.

A subversive attack on 1950s McCarthyism?  Maybe. I supposed you could project a number of social commentaries, but that takes all the fun out of it. Enjoy Invasion of the Body Snatchers for what it is—a thrilling scare.

31 More Days of Horror: Cujo (1983)

Centered on man’s best friend becoming a rabid demon, Cujo doesn’t require much of its audience because the believability is there. Here an untold gritty intensity is found in the mundane that will haunt you.

The Chamber’s family pet, Cujo, is a lovable St. Bernard. But an unfortunate romp in the fields results in Cujo being bitten. The dog’s health begins to deteriorate slowly. In the meantime, we the viewer get to learn about the soon to become prey.

Donna Trenton (Dee Wallace), wife of Vic and mother to Tad, is a typical housewife. Raising young Tad and combating the monsters in the closet are the highlights of her routine. But Donna is having an affair with Vic’s friend Steve. Vic takes it hard, but is determined to move forward.

As the movie simmers, we learn about the neighbors and their secrets. We explore more of Donna’s indiscretions. Essentially director Lewis Teague is asking us to judge them as he sets them up to pay for their sins. As Cujo becomes more disoriented and irritated, we have made our choices and are ready for penitence.

Cujo is a well-crafted traumatic experience. Ultimately, it’s the idea of it all that makes it so hard-hitting. But Teague makes the tension and claustrophobia real. Well-realized characters—especially Donna—furthers the fear wonderfully. Her emotionally-draining performance is chilling.

The final stand in the Pinto is nail-biting. The heat of the sun is bearing down up mother and son. Kudos to Teague! We know Cujo is waiting to strike, but do they chance dehydration or the dog? It’s a valid conundrum. Again the realism is terrifying.

Cujo is a solid thriller—one of King’s better adaptations, but it doesn’t get the billing of Misery. Sad, but I think it’s easily explained. With this film, you have to invest some time upfront for the nasty payoff. If you’re willing to do that, you’re guaranteed a terrifying good time.

31 More Days of Horror: From Hell (2001)

From Hell, the eerie atmospheric adaptation of a graphic novel might not qualify as a true hack and slash. However, the source material—Jack the Ripper—and the hunt for him is oozing with potential.  Under the director of the Hughes brothers, this viscious gory drama is bloody spectacular.  Furthering the goodness is  Johnny Depp as the opium-addicted Scotland Yard inspector.

Key to the film’s success is a fascination with Jack the Ripper. Victorian London is painstakingly recreated, gorgeously so and it becomes a playground for a man to prey on prostitutes. As Mary Kelly’s (Heather Graham) friends/co-workers are found dead, horribly disfigured, often disemboweled, the hunt for the killer becomes bogged down as Inspector Abberline’s theory may lead straight to the royal family.

The Hughes brothers effectively build tension and fear through the seedy streets of London. The cinematography creates amazing depth and shadows.  London was a creepy place in the 19th Century.  As the heinous murder mystery unfolds—supported by a top-notch score—the viewer can’t seem to grasp the horror. Much of the violence takes place off screen, but your imagination conjures gruesome images that will haunt for days. The throat slashing comes to mind.

From Hell is a great horror flick in the same vein of Silence of the Lambs or se7en. With its conspiracy theories, top-notch cast that includes Robbie Coltrane and Ian Holmes, and bloody violent images, its fine addition to any horror queue.

31 More Days of Horror: Child's Play (1988)

Chucky doesn’t get enough respect in my book. If you’re like me, you can remember the very first time and the way that creepy little ankle biter murdered with glee. Good Guy Doll, my @$$.

The opening sequence with a killer (Brad Dourif) transferring his soul into the doll is succinct enough. Mom buys doll despite not really being able to afford it because her son Andy wants one SO BAD!! Then the horror begins.

Right from the start, with the babysitter being stalked in the apartment and ultimately pushed out the window that overall-ed kid scares the begeezus out of me. Still does. Andy is the only one that realizes his doll is alive.

Kudos to director Tom Holland for making a smart movie. Sure, Chucky is a doll, but he’s also a cunning little sh!t and Holland toys with us. Most of the film, we the viewer, see little things that creep us out. The sequence with Andy’s mom and the batteries—I’ll never forget. She walks over to the table, discovers Chucky doesn’t have batteries in him. Look out! That sinister smile—that cackle—Chucky’s murderous rampage has already begun.

Child’s Play is a straightforward flick whose wheels threaten to fall off at any moment. Though we have some dicey bits, ultimately, the film balances solid scares with humor (intentional or not). See this; but don’t bother with the sequels.

31 More Days of Horror: The Invisible Man (1933)

Some movies transcend their genre to become classics. The Invisible Man is one of them. Though its age is deceptive, this B&W film continues to thrill thanks to phenomenal source work from H.G. Wells.

An experiment gone awry causes scientist Jack Griffin (Claude Rains) to become invisible. Desperate for a cure, he tries to hide out in the small village of Ipping. Between the drugs side effects and the nosy locals, his invisible hand is forced and he flips out.

It’s the performance by Claude Rains that ultimately makes this movie the force it is. His maniacal laughter, his voice dripping with distain, his slow turn to insanity is crazy good. "We'll start with a reign of terror. Murders of little men and murders of big men - just to show that we make no distinction."

Surprising most viewers, I think, is the film’s special effects. Rest assured they are quite solid. Griffin is most creepy when bandaged, but his transition to and from invisibility is top-notch. You never actually see Rains until the very end—it’s his vocal performance that causes the shivers.

The Invisible Man is a perfect balance of horror and fun. The film’s resident shrieker is certainly a put-off, but the dialogue—the film’s true star—is darkly vicious, but often darkly humorous as well. Please don’t let the film’s age dissuade you from watching it any time of the year.

31 More Days of Horror: The Birds (1963)

You know the idea of it is scary as heck—birds running amok in Bodega Bay. And with Alfred Hitchcock’s demented direction and unparalleled touch The Birds is as effective now as ever.

The film begins unassumingly—much like a romantic comedy of the day. San Francisco socialite Melanie (Tippi Hedren) crosses paths with handsome bachelor attorney Mitch (Rod Taylor) and follows him back to his hometown. The wholesome village of Bodega Bay soon experiences a seemingly freak avian assault. Locals comment on the random events, but the tide has already turned into a vicious fowl uprising.

Simple in its delivery, but brutally riveting The Birds is a masterpiece of horror for many reasons. We'll look at two.

1. No score.  Most viewers don’t notice it. There is no background music to speak of resulting in a truly horrific intensity when the birds assault.
2. Editing. Again, Hitchcock shows his brilliance. Right out of the gate you are entranced by his subtle techniques. See the pet shop scene at the beginning. It’s merely a clue to what is to come.

I love how Hitchcock builds the tension with no release. You’d have to be living in a cave not to know about this movie, so you expect—going into it—the birds to attack. But you get to stew. The viewer is pushed to edge before the mayhem is unleashed.

The scene that gets me time and time again is the school yard. That sequence of quick shots floors me every time. The chill up your spine, the shortness of breath, the goosebumps—God, I love it!

The Birds is easily my favorite Hitchcock film. So much more than a creature feature, this film is worthy of an examination. See this masterpiece. You won’t be disappointed.

31 More Days of Horror: Willard (2003)

Hypnotic opening credits are just the beginning to this atmospheric and moody creature feature. Willard Stiles (Crispin Glover) is a shy, but psychotic soul whose only friends are rats. When Socrates is murdered, Willard seeks revenge on The Man.

Deceptively simple, Willard doesn't rely on gore to score. Instead we are introduced to an introvert who has discovered a rat infestation and turns it into a true friendship with beady-eyed buggers. In seeming thanks for his friendship, Socrates and Ben are willing to do his bidding.

One element makes this movie: Crispin Glover. With untold emotionality, Glover is perfectly creepy. Those steely eyes, that sadistic gleam, those twitches, that hunch--it chills the soul.  His evolution from sick boy to masterful freak is a brilliant play.

Willard's revenge is ultimately directed at his cruel boss, Mr. Martin (R. Lee Emery). Martin berates and dehumanizes Willard at every turn. Embolden by Willard's lack of defense {Glover's slow simmer is palpable} Martin continues to bully until Willard is forced to turn to Ben. Ben {the rat, mind you} views this opportunity to cement his role in Willard's life and exacts his pound of flesh from Mr. Martin on Willard's behalf.

Every other element is a compliment to Glover. The modest production is dark and aged. Macabre, if you will. Willard is just a bizarre, cultish film with an ending to die for. It's revolting and fascinating all at the same time. Ultimately, the film works on two levels: as a black comedy or an allegory--you decide. Either way, you won't be disappointed.

31 More Days of Horror: George A. Romero's Day of the Dead (1985)

It's no secret.  Zombies are my favorite.  Vampires pale in comparison; they are distant second.  What is it that makes zombies so deliciously wonderfully?  I think it's George Romero's fault.  Last year, I reviewed my favorite Romero film.  Here's another one.

Writer/director George A. Romero pulls the morality card in Day of the Dead. Surviving in an underground bunker is a remnant of society, cleanly split between scientists and soldiers. The scientists are desperately trying to find a solution for a country overrun by the undead. The soldiers want them all dead. Everyone is on edge, infighting threatens to kill them all.  Then the zombies invade.

Romero's take a different angle with this one and it works beautifully.  He effectively builds the terror throughout the bunker with its claustrophobic feel and fringe scientists.  Throw in the zombies and off we go.  The pace is monotonous; it builds a sense of morbid paranoia within the viewer's own psyche.

 The beer-swilling, crazed, bullying soldiers that seem to get more thrills terrorizing the civilians are just the beginning. The scientist--the only normal one bunch in the bunch--isn't. There is just enough creep--the whirly-bird pilot, crazy-eyed scientist and Bub--to make the film worthwhile.

Day of the Dead contains a perfect gore to scare ratio that is both campy and disgusting. The exploration of the morality of zombie deaths comes to the cusp of annoyance, but the humanizing of Bub is an emotional angle that I didn't see coming. Thankfully, the zombie-fueled mayhem begins just in time.

Just like his others, Romero's Day of the Dead successfully stands on its own merit.

31 More Days of Horror: Platoon of the Dead (2009)

Well, it was bound to happen. I wouldn’t have thought it would happen so perfectly though. Midway through an otherwise exceptional horror-fest; I get a real dud.  For the love of all things horror; watch ANYTHING ELSE but this! Watch The Notebook! Watch The Mist! Watch Hannah Montana! Just DON’T watch this.


Platoon of the Dead has got to be the result of a long night that included a bong and some beer. The entire film is one tiresome hack job. The sad thing is I think the creators tried to make a legit zombie movie. They failed (and I venture just like everything else) miserably. Platoon of the Dead isn't even 'so bad, it's funny'. It's just bad; please save yourself and DON'T watch this!!

31 More Days of Horror: The Signal (2007)

When a signal sent out across phones, televisions, and radios cause the citizens of Terminus to become crazed, murderous freaks—look out! We see humanity explode into hate-filled rage in three gory transmissions told through three distinct perspectives.

A faithless wife tries to reach her lover who gave her a kick-a$$ mix tape the previous night. In the meantime, she crosses paths with her ex-husband. Violent, yet humorous narratives overlap to create perfect 21st Century paranoia.

Transmission 1 explores the initial outbreak of ‘the crazy’ and its immediate effects on our trio. Transmission 2 is where everything amps up. With brutality and black humor, Transmission 2 finds gruesome maniacs wreaking havoc in the city, but we focus on the husband--raging with jealousy--and his weapon of choice: a fire extinguisher. Transmission 3 is our climax where good and evil co-mingle. The viewer is not longer able to distinguish the reality from the hallucination.

Despite the seemingly disjointed stories, I trust my readers are smart. The second act contains wildly different undertones and although each transmission has a certain feel, there is on unifying theme… Gore is king!

The Signal doesn’t disappoint with juicy, bloody, gruesomeness. The freaky splatter is insane. But this low budget gem is smart, terse, and perfectly disturbing; its modern unpredictable horror worth watching.

31 More Days of Horror: The Blair Witch Project (1999)

The hype has past; film-goers have moved on. Now is the time to see The Blair Witch Project. The film is simple in its execution, therein lays its success. The film reminds us of that which is scariest—what we don’t see.

One very driven film student, Heather, drags two buddies along to document the story of the Blair Witch; who according to legend is behind the countless murders and disappearances spanning decades. Grab your gear. Let’s go camping!

The amateurish nature of the film is its best feature. Shaky-cam! Surprisingly, it’s not annoying, but enhancing. With this film, you must listen—not see. Listen to wind blow, the leaves crunch, and the faint noises in the background. The occasional revelation further cements that something is out there, but what? It’s an intangible malevolent being that scares you sh*tless.

Our trio isn’t stupid, just goofy. But as the situation quickly gets out of hand, they are clearly ill-equipped and the death spiral begins. Turning on one another, bickering, it’s not until Josh’s teeth are discovered that the group reunites.

Nothing prepares you for the final stand. And as you yell the cardinal rule {don’t go in there!}at the helpless duo, the film ends. Nice.

31 More Days of Horror: John Carpenter's The Thing (1982)

Twelve men, amid Antarctic isolation, must combat each other as trust gives way to fear in John Carpenter’s The Thing. A centuries old shape-shifting alien is loose on the scientific compound and everyone is suspect. Banding a makeshift truce, the researchers are led by MacReady (Kurt Russell) in an attempt to force the thing to reveal itself.

Amazingly effective elements come together to make this movie pitch-perfect. Carpenter’s build of dread and claustrophobia is so visceral—so disturbing. More than helping matters is Ennio Morricone's spooky soundtrack with that shiver-inducing bass line. The special effects are startlingly gory and bloody. Though the Thing is never viewed as an ‘entity’, the constant mutation is realistically unsettling.

Casting is yet another perfect feature. Kurt Russell is brilliant. It’s his no-nonsense attitude from beginning--Cheating b*tch!--to end--F*ck you, too!--that’s just the right touch of everyman. Juicy supporting roles that include Wilford Brimley, Thomas Waites, and Keith David are not full of character development per se, but make for scream-inducing kills.


John Carpenter’s The Thing feeds on the most human of emotions: fear. How he builds that--I can't quite figure out. He balances the gross with the shadow seamlessly, unnerving his viewers almost subconsciously. The suspense, the isolation never relents.

There are too many scenes to revisit, but my favorite sequence is MacReady’s blood tests. With the other scientists tied up, he tests each sample of blood with a red hot wire. The alien blood jumping from the Petri dish—still curdles my own—then leads into Window’s brutal demise and that uber-creepy spider thing.

Deserving of every accolade The Thing is one of Carpenter’s best. Intensely atmospheric, the film is crazy good horror.