Month: March 2009

I have selflessly waded through some real crap in the last few weeks, searching through my massive stockpile of Steven King movies for those few gems that stand a cut above the rest. We all know that Carrie, The Shining and The Green Mile are legitimate, well-made pieces of cimema. I’m talking about sorting through the really, truly crappy stuff; trying to determine which of his bad movies are bad enough to be funny, which one’s don’t take themselves too seriously, which ones are scary not just for their content, but because they have a production quailty similar to that of the VHS in The Ring, and may actually be haunted.
Creepshow is one of these gems. Released the same year I was born, It has become a cult classic, so I am far from the first person to point out it’s brilliance, but I may well be the first person to point it out to the four people who read my blog. Creepshow is great because it hits all the highs and all the lows at once. It is hilarious, both intentionally and unintentionally. It has parts that try to be scary and fail, and parts that try to be scary and really succeed. It has laughably bad special effects and images that have haunted me for weeks. Best of all, it has great performances by unknown actors and atrocious performances by future stars.
Creepshow consists of five short stories woven together by a flimsy framework featuring Steven King’s own son (giving possibly the worst performance by a child actor in the history of film) as a boy who can’t get enough of his horror comic books. The first story is a classic zombie revenge fable featuring a young (but not that young) Ed Harris. The second is a short rip-off of The Blob featuring a one-man cast of Steven King himself. It’s interesting to note that while his son is a bad actor on the level of Ali Larter, King himself is pretty fun to watch. He’s the only one who seems to be consciously playing this comic book movie in a comic book style. In fact, King’s cameos in all his movies have a sort of winking awareness to them, unlike Stan Lee’s cameos in all the Marvel movies, in which he seems overly enthusiastic and occasionally disoriented.
The next short features my favorite star turns of all: Leslie Neilsen versus Ted Danson. The film catches both men at turning points in their careers; Nielsen has just done Airplane, but has yet to embrace his transformation from dramatic actor in campy films to campy actor in brilliant comedies. He plays it his deadpan best, but you can sense his sneaking suspicion that this film, and his entire career for that matter, might soon be enjoyed only ironically. Meanwhile, Danson has recently booked Cheers and quite visibly doesn’t give a fuck about this movie. He seems barely interested in his scenes (which feature his death, reanimation, and death again) and becomes the film’s second victim of “Larterism” (speaking English as if you’re reading it phonetically, with no knowledge of meaning or context).
The final short is another one-man nightmare featuring the scariest image I have seen in months, and I watch a horror movie almost every night. I can’t think of any clever way to allude to it, so I’ll just tell you: dude gets HIS WHOLE BODY FILLED WITH COCKROACHES. Now I will be the first to admit that cockroaches freak me out. A few crawling around my apartment, let alone my body, are enough to reduce me to the physical and mental state of an 11-year-old girl meeting the Jonas Brothers. For me, this short scene was one of my few tastes of genuine terror since I saw a live birth in 9th Grade Health.
Even if you’re not in it for the scares, or the gross effects, or the camp value, this movie is worth checking out for the IMDB credits. It’s a wonderful example of low budget horror movies as the great star-finders that they are. Doing a horror movie is one of the only ways that an unknown actor can get screen time, since horror movies are one of the few genres that don’t require stars to sell them; the scares themselves are the stars. Consequently you see more horror movies at the bottom of A-List resumes than soaps & commercials combined. So if that body filled with cockroaches turns you off, just think how that effect helped get this movie made, and how this movie and many like it launched the thriving careers of some of our most popular and respected stars.
Here are a few of my favorites, and the secret shames that gave them names:
Paul Rudd – Halloween 6: The Curse of Michael Myers
Johnny Depp – A Nightmare on Elm Street
Jennifer Aniston – Leprechaun
Kevin Bacon – Friday the 13th
John Travolta – Carrie
Julianne Moore – Tales from the Darkside
Doug E. Doug – Dr. Giggles
Meryl Streep – Sophie’s Choice

Alert citizens: awesomeness has occurred. The good people at Piano Fight Productions in sunny San Francisco have agreed to include my new show “TMZ TV: Too Many Zombies!” in their Shortlived Festival this spring. I went back to the script and devised a tight, 12-minute, California-exclusive version of the show, so what you see in the Studio 250 Theater at 965 Mission Street on Friday and Saturday nights starting April 3rd has never been seen before and will most likely never be seen again. It’s a competition, so my show runs every weekend until it’s voted out. I’m obviously not a local, so if you’re reading this from California (admittedly, very unlikely) please go over there and check it out! If not, just check out this company. They seem really dope. In fact I like them so well that I’m spattering their link all over my blog like a loveless back ally facial.
I love San Francisco. I yearn to escape there someday. I’ve got some family and a few friends out there, the people smile at you on the street, and the cost of living is one I’m familiar with (unreasonably high). It’s a fast town with a happenin’ scene (my cousin is a successful DJ there) but it also has access to the kind of natural beauty that I grew up with and that, I’m forced to admit, is firmly stitched into my DNA. The only think missing for me up to this point has been the comedy community, and Piano Fight seems to be filling that need in an aggressive yet tender way. Right on boys.

Dearest Robot,
Thank you for taking the time to read my humble musings and post intricate comments on them many, many times each day. I need every reader I can get, and far be it from me to quell your admiration. However, I feel that your observation the other day was so inflammatory that I am moved to open a dialogue with you. In response to one of my recent posts, you brazenly commented:

bunfmom
http://chrzsedrszkt.com/ | ndjghe@tiumxh.com | 63.115.180.130
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How dare you sir? The temerity of this robot. Honestly, dinmfeglzpen? And as if that’s not enough, [url=http://gzzorcprdqjj.com/]gzzorcprdqjj[/url]? Grow up asshole. I have a good mind to 63.115.180.130 you right back, all over your face! 5×46TC my left nut! You think you can just come in here and http://uaqtkenfgdaa.com/ on my blog? On my website?!?
Fuck off short circuit.
(i.e. – stop spamming me, assholes)

On an unrelated note, over in in-joke corner:

DEENA! Ooo child
Your good at SO many thangs
SO muthafuckin many thangs!

Confused Asian woman wearing a pink kimono.
In Midtown Manhattan.
On St. Patrick’s Day.
GIRL YOU GON’ GIT PINCHED!

I have recently come into possession of about 50 Steven King movies. In an effort to feel productive as I lie on my couch, watching them one by one, feeling the prime of my life slip away, I am taking the liberty of reviewing my findings here for your education, saving you the valuable time and brain cells it would take to absorb them all yourself. You can thank me later, since if you are reading this it is highly likely that I know you personally.
(Note: since most of these aren’t worth seeing if you have a life, I will be SPOILING THEM ALL).
The Mangler: I was drawn to this title because “The Mangler” to me implies a serial killer, and a gruesome one at that; the kind that escapes from mental asylums and leaves hooks on the car door handles of young lovers. Therefore I was shocked to learn that the Mangler, in this case, refers to a WASHING MACHING.
Yes indeed, a large industrial laundry machine like the one pictured here. I read in his biography that Steven King used to work in an industrial laundry before he became a bazillionaire, so this story was no doubt an idle workplace fantasy that he dreamed up based on the things around him, much like I often daydream that the letter opener at my desk is the Sword of Power and will transform me into He-Man if properly invoked.
The problems with this movie are twofold:
One: It stars Ted Levine, who you probably know as Buffalo Bill from “The Silence of the Lambs.” As that character, he talked in a kind of affected drawl that sounds like a cross between Forest Gump and Jeff Bridges with a loose filling. When I saw “Silence…” I thought it was a nice character choice for the creepy villian. After seeing “The Mangler” I now realize that no, that’s just the way he talks. It kind of starts to grate on you when he plays the lead.
The other small problem with the movie is that the villain is a WASHING MACHINE. It is incapable of movement and therefore cannot even chase you as fast as a re-animated corpse or a lumbering serial killer. Therefore, as the body count rises, it becomes increasingly difficult to believe that people keep standing so close to it. Most of the deaths on the latter half of the movie play out much like this:

Hapless New England Factory Worker: “This machine just mangled that old lady!”

Evil One-Eyed Employer: “Which machine?”

Hapless New England Factory Worker: (pointing to it) “Why this one right here…OH MY GOD! IT’S GOT MY POINTIN’ HAND! I’M A GONNER FOR SURE!”

It’s amusing, but makes distractingly little sense, and needless to say that an object lesson in workplace safety was not what I was looking for when I threw in “The Mangler.” I was looking for the sociopath with the hook for a hand who, even if he’s too crazy to sprint after the escaping teens, will at least chase them at a brisk stroll.