I have been, and always shall be, your friend. ~Spock, The Wrath of Khan
Of my friend, I can only say this: Of all the souls I have encountered in my t
I have been, and always shall be, your friend. ~Spock, The Wrath of Khan
Of my friend, I can only say this: Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most...human. ~Capt. Kirk, The Wrath of Khan
I'm betting the vast majority of readers/listeners finding their way to this book will have been lifelong Trekkies, having come of age watching Star Trek in syndication, waiting with keen anticipation as each motion picture installment was released in the franchise, discovering new things to love about the Trek verse as it expanded/exploded to include The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and Voyager.
This isn't me. I'm coming to Trek shockingly late -- 50 years after the 1966 premiere of the original series starring William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy. For me the paint isn't even dry. It started only last summer with the release of Star Trek: Beyond. I decided I would go see it, but I didn't want to do that until I had watched the first two movies in JJ Abrams reboot (keeping in mind I had never seen an episode of Star Trek -- ANY Star Trek -- in my life, nor any of the movies). As someone who had been raised and steeped in the horror tradition, A LOT of sci-fi nerdy stuff passed me by altogether (yes, including Star Wars). I wasn't interested, and for a long time, I really didn't think any of it was being made for me anyway. None of it felt like my "tribe" so to speak, or anything I was able or willing to relate to.
Fast forward to August 2016. I watch the Abrams movies and LOVE them -- especially Beyond which is my favourite of the three. I loved these movies so much, and fell in love with Pine's and Quinto's portrayals of Kirk and Spock so completely, it triggered an almost immediate overwhelming desire to go back and watch the entire run of the original Star Trek -- yes, even season 3, all of it -- which as any Trekkie reading this knows is an exercise in endurance, patience and frustration at the sharp decline in quality the series would take in its final year.
But it was worth it -- after seeing a new generation of young actors tackle these iconic characters so successfully, I had to go back to the beginning and experience the Shatner/Nimoy dynamic that launched a franchise so big and so far reaching it was still finding people and captivating them five decades later. I needed to see with my own eyes, feel with my own heart, what was so special about this low-budget sci-fi television show from the 60s that would make millions of people from all over the world into lifelong Trekkies.
I came to this project with a lot of skepticism, certain after all these many decades there was no way the show would have the ability to resonate with me now or hold my interest. Too much time had passed. It would seem too old-fashioned, cheap and silly. And for sure, watching those first few episodes I giggled at some of the ridiculous cheesy "special effects", the poorly choreographed fight sequences where no attempt was made to hide the stunt double, and Shatner's chewing up the scenery every chance he got.
But these elements became part of the show's vintage charm for me, and more than that, superficial characteristics of a show that would go on to convince me of its imaginative and thought-provoking storytelling wrapped up in a contagious adventure of the week style. I was hooked. More than that, like millions before me, I was falling in love with Mr. Spock -- the forever logical, keenly observant and emotionally controlled First Officer of Starfleet's USS Enterprise -- a role I can't believe anyone else could have brought to life so vividly or memorably as Leonard Nimoy.
As I made my way through the original TV series (with the help and guidance from a bona fide Trek nerd who shall remain unnamed), I would also begin watching the films. The deeper into the Trek verse I went, the more deeply attached I became to the characters, and began to fully appreciate the unique on-screen chemistry shared between Shatner and Nimoy. The best actors act -- they are paid to feel things they are not really feeling -- but that nebulous, indefinable chemistry cannot be bought and sold, faked or forced. What Shatner and Nimoy share on the screen as Kirk and Spock is something special and precious to behold. It would shape and inform a unique, sometimes difficult and contentious, friendship that would last half a century.
Listening to Shatner read aloud his remembrances of his friendship with such a charismatic, multi-talented, deeply loved man, I came to the conclusion that Shatner is being sincere here. You can hear the respect and unchecked admiration for the man Nimoy was, and the blinding love Shatner held for him (even when his narcissistic tendencies would bring up feelings of competition and jealousy and even resentment). It's sweet, and at times terribly sad. You can detect a note of loneliness in Shatner's words as he confesses to his lack of any lasting friendships with anyone, save for Nimoy who Fate had fused the two men together on this remarkable journey of a lifetime. But even Nimoy -- after decades of sharing his world with Shatner -- would suddenly (and inexplicably from Shatner's viewpoint) end their relationship and cut off all direct contact.
Shatner doesn't go into too much detail regarding the men's epic falling out. He's playing dumb and seems honestly baffled and hurt why Nimoy would cut him out of his life around the time Shatner was making the documentary The Captains in 2011. Obviously, whether Shatner wants to confront his role in the falling out or not, the saddest part of all of this is that these two men brought together, and held together, by extraordinary circumstances, would not have each other as one faced a terminal illness and death. When Nimoy finally did pass away in February 2015, Shatner chose to appear at a charity fundraiser for the Red Cross and would not make it to Nimoy's funeral, a fact I'm sure some Trekkies will never forgive him for.
I choose to be a little more forgiving and understanding. I feel Shatner's grief and sense of loss are genuine and keenly, sharply experienced. While there is a lot of information presented here that is re-hashing material previously published elsewhere, there is also a new-found humility as Shatner tries to work through some of his feelings of inadequacy, and never quite measuring up to the depth and breadth of talent and integrity that was Leonard Nimoy. It really is a love letter in a lot of important ways, as Shatner attempts to make sense of the wonder of it all and his and Nimoy's place in it as he faces his own inevitable mortality.
I can only hope when it's Shatner's turn to shuffle off this mortal coil, there is some kind of afterlife waiting for all of us, and that he and Nimoy find each other there and find a way back to forgiveness and the special friendship they once shared.
I'm going to end this review by recommending the recent documentary For the Love of Spock. This isn't just mandatory viewing for Trek fans, but is also a poignant and comprehensive look at the life of a remarkable man and the resonating influence of an iconic figure who has come to mean so much to so many. LLAP friends.
“If anyone reads this when I have passed to the big bad beyond I shall be posthumously embarrassed. I shall spend my entire afterlife blushing.”
Didn'
“If anyone reads this when I have passed to the big bad beyond I shall be posthumously embarrassed. I shall spend my entire afterlife blushing.”
Didn't we all feel this way about our diaries as hyper-dramatic, brooding adolescents, at the mercy of our raging hormones and our short-circuiting ever expanding neural pathways and vivid imaginations? Sure we did, those of us who bothered to "write it all out and down" (which I think tends to be more of a female act of expression, than male -- but I could be wrong there). From the time we are little girls, women are "encouraged" to keep a diary, a locked and private totem where we can pour all of our heartfelt dreams, desires, bitter disappointments, enraged indictments of others, etc, etc. At its best, diary keeping can be a cathartic positive form of meditation and contemplation, giving its writer opportunity for reflection and insight.
Mostly though? It is a place to go to rage and seethe, pine and moan. It's a place to write bad poetry, a place to confess the most intimate details of our most crushing of crushes. It's a baring of the soul in the most embarrassing of ways. There is a popular podcast capitalizing on this embarrassment factor by persuading adults to read passages from their early diaries in front of a live audience. Mortified can make for sweet and honest listening, funny, endearing, and sometimes cringe-inducing as we relate a little too closely to what's being read aloud and recalling something from our past that we'd just as soon forget. At one point or another, we've all been there.
In 1976, Carrie Fisher was 19 years old and had begun filming what would arguably become the most famous science fiction movie of all time, launching a franchise and characters that in the intervening years have resonated with millions around the world (and continues to do so as new installments hit theaters). No one at the time could have possibly predicted the film's gargantuan success, least of all its young co-stars, and perhaps especially, a fresh-faced, doe-eyed, insecure and terrified Ms. Fisher.
So what is this short memoir really? A little less than half is some of the passages from the diary Carrie kept in 1976 while filming Star Wars. But for you die-hard fans out there, this isn't an exclusive behind-the-scenes tell-all on the making of George Lucas's epic, enduring space opera. There is very little to none of that kind of detail here. Instead what we have is the (sometimes) mortifying, but achingly honest, musings of a young woman in the throes of infatuation with an older married man.
In 1976, Harrison Ford was 35 with a wife and two children, but this didn't stop him from starting a brief, nearly wordless affair with the young Carrie Fisher. She fell into a confused, anxious, questioning kind of love, Harrison remained detached, composed and in control. Not surprisingly, an affair between one so young and inexperienced, and one so matured and advanced in his life choices was terribly lop-sided in its balance of power. It didn't help that at the time Harrison was the very epitome of the "strong, silent type". Whatever he was feeling or thinking, Carrie was only left to guess, and pour her musings and insecurities out onto the page.
For context though, and the all elusive sub-text, the sharing of these innocent diary musings are an interesting addition to the Star Wars canonical universe. For decades, fans and celebrity gossip mongers have speculated that an affair did indeed take place, but both Carrie and Harrison never confirmed or denied, they just stayed mum. Some things are private, even for someone like Ms. Fisher who is famous for over-sharing. So why come clean now? Carrie explains her reasons, and I respect them. I don't think she did this to be salacious or provocative, this is just an extension of the honesty she's brought to all parts of her life, and after forty years she felt enough time had passed that no one was going to care enough to be hurt or feel betrayed.
Carrie presents her affair with Harrison in a rueful, breezy manner but it's clear just how torturous and unhealthy a thing that it was (how it starts is even more disturbing, but likely not unique to young film actresses everywhere). This isn't a fairy tale. Largely, the account left me sad, and a little depressed.
The other half of the short memoir (which I liked much better) reads like a smart, sassy essay, as Carrie tries to put her life as Princess Leia into some kind of larger context, what it's like to be super famous for one role, and how the line so quickly and easily blurs -- "am I Princess Leia, or is she me?" Carrie has some amusing anecdotes to share about fandom and the often odd behaviors and requests she's been subjected to for over forty years, but she also expresses her deep love and gratitude for the millions of fans who will only ever see her as Princess Leia.
It was bittersweet listening to this as an audiobook -- Carrie's voice is confident, with her signature snark and wry amusement. It is a voice filled with a zest and perpetual curiosity for life, a life that was just recently cut tragically short at age 60....more
I always feel guilty when I snag a book from NetGalley and don't love it. But hey -- impartial reviewing and honest reader response is what we all cra I always feel guilty when I snag a book from NetGalley and don't love it. But hey -- impartial reviewing and honest reader response is what we all crave, right? So I get over that guilt pretty quickly.
Adam Rockoff has a great idea here. While my real passion is to watch horror movies (not read about them) every once in a while a book like this sneaks past my defenses with a come hither look I can't resist. That's what this book did with its great cover and catchy (if wordy) title.
Essentially what Rockoff is attempting to do here (and largely fails) is what Stephen King accomplished decades ago with flair and brilliance in his nonfiction study of the horror genre Danse Macabre. What did I want this Christmas season? What do I long for keenly every year that passes? A goddamn, updated sequel! Get on that Uncle Stevie, before it's too late!
King's masterpiece covers horror in all its manifestations in print, and on the big and small screens. Rockoff narrows his focus to just the movies, and that would be enough if it had been a wide view of horror on the big screen, but Rockoff's kink is the slasher / exploitation films (the subtitle for this book should have been my first clue).
Rockoff has already written a book about the rise of the slasher film called Going to Pieces -- heh, cute title -- and without having read it, I'm left with a sneaking suspicion that this follow-up book treads a lot of the same ground. In The Horror of it All Rockoff has a major rant against Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel for a special edition episode of their show Sneak Previews aired in 1980 in which the film critics lambast these "slasher" flicks as a dangerous and despicable trend in film both demeaning and dangerous to women (these men are so high up on their high horse here I can't imagine they can still see the ground). Don't get me wrong -- I love Roger Ebert, he remains one of my favorite film critics -- but boy, was he mostly a fuss bucket when it came to horror movies in general. It wasn't his genre of choice and it showed in many of his prejudicial (and often undeserved) negative reviews of some great movies.
Rockoff is justified in tearing a strip off these two men in an instance where they show complete ignorance about a genre and its fans. Neither Siskel or Ebert appear to have actually sat through any of these movies they are so quick to dismiss as sleazy and misogynist. They show no awareness of "the Final Girl" who often survives to slay the "monster" herself, as well as suffering from the common misconception that it's only women killed in slasher films. Quite the contrary; studies show men are just as likely to die violent deaths on screen in horror movies as their female counterparts.
But I get it. As a fan of the genre since before I could tie my own shoes, I've come up against that kind of prejudice many, many times. Horror is a genre where the consumer is attacked as often as the content itself. Understanding the appeal factor of horror is difficult for some people to accept, people who will look at you with a wary expression as they ask "how can you read/watch that stuff"? As if we should be ashamed, as if we are somehow mentally warped or our moral compass dangerously askew. Don't worry, it isn't. Horror appeals to many of us for very solid, rational, non-psychopathic reasons, I swear. And it appeals just as equally to men as it does women. And that doesn't make the men misogynists, or the women failed feminists.
But I digress. Back to Rockoff. His goal here is to really champion for the slasher films and the deranged and disturbing pushing all the boundaries it can possibly think of exploitation films. And I wouldn't have had a problem with that. But it gets a bit repetitive and tiresome and a lot of the movies he winds up talking about are pretty obscure if you're not a complete and utter fanatic for everything underground and out of print (I'm not).
In his introduction, Rockoff promises to approach horror in a very personal essay, knitting together his experiences of the genre using memoir as a lens. I love that idea. I love hearing about people's personal reactions to movies or what was going on in their lives when. One of my favorites of these sorts of anecdotes came from my own mother. She was dating my father at the time of the theatrical release of The Exorcist.
It was a date movie for them (these are my genes). They had to park the car at the very back of the mall parking lot. When the movie let out after 11pm the mall was closed and the parking lot was almost empty. They walked to the dark, abandoned hinterland of the lot to their car. When my mother went to open the passenger door (this was 1970's Newfoundland - people rarely locked their car doors) a giant looming shadow of a man sat up in the back seat and groaned. My mother screamed. My father cursed (and probably shit himself). Turns out that while they were watching the movie, this guy stumbled out of the bar drunk and crawled into my parents car to pass out mistaking the car as belonging to his friend.
Rockoff has a few personal stories like this, humorous and charming, but not nearly enough of them. He can't help but slip into the film school analysis voice, reviewing and critiquing. Too much of the book's contents feel like grad school essays, a little pompous and righteous. In an effort to "legitimize" horror and testify to its importance and validity, Rockoff comes off sounding like a bit of a haughty dick.
Then there's some sections that just don't work at all, and their inclusion confounds me. Case in point -- in Chapter 5 "Sounds of the Devil" Rockoff talks about the (un)natural marriage of heavy metal music to horror movies. The two go together like PB&J in some ways, in other ways it's a misfit experiment gone awry. He raises a few interesting points and then inexplicably goes right off the reservation with a blow-by-blow account of the time in 1985 Tipper Gore helped found the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC) and brought the fight to Washington in the hopes of compelling the music industry to adopt a voluntary rating system warning of the explicit lyrics destined to corrupt and warp innocent children.
Halfway through this chapter I felt like I was reading a completely different book that didn't have anything to do with horror movies at all. It just seemed really out of context and ultimately onerous. I remember when this bullshit was going on at the time -- even at 11 years old I scoffed then, I scoff now. Plus, it's not nearly as interesting a story as the Comics Code Authority and the war against horror comics of the 1950's (check out The Ten-Cent Plague: The Great Comic-Book Scare and How it Changed America and Comic Book Nation: The Transformation of Youth Culture in America). And I'm really looking forward to checking out this 2014 documentary Diagram for Delinquents.
If you've made it to the end of this lengthy, rambling review I thank you. You are a good sport and too kind. I didn't hate this book but it failed to really engage me or entertain. I don't recommend it; instead, pop some popcorn, turn out the lights and cue up your favorite scary movie.
"It's not like my mother is a maniac or a raving thing. She just goes a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?" ~Norman
"It's not like my mother is a maniac or a raving thing. She just goes a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?" ~Norman Bates, Psycho (1960)
***Note: the following review contains spoilers for the films Psycho, Carrie, and Friday the 13th.
I've had this slim volume by film critic David Thomson on my currently reading shelf for months and it was high time to finish it, or abandon it. I finished it...barely.
Psycho is one of my favorite movies for a thousand reasons, including all of the fascinating stories that surround the mythology of how it was shot, Hitchcock's battle with Hollywood censors, his genius marketing plan, and the film's subsequent shell-shocking and titillation of 1960 movie audiences. So when a book like this promises to show me the moment of Psycho and how its director taught America to love murder, I'm there. The only thing that rivals talking about the movie itself for me, is talking about the cultural Zeitgeist in which it was made and received.
Thomson's thesis in an ambitious and exciting one. His book, on the other hand, is a wishy-washy example of intellectual masturbation that goes nowhere and proves nothing. Dare I say he comes off as an idiot quite frankly, full of sound and fury, in a treatise absent of any real meaning or value. He has added zero new to the debate on Hitchcock's films, or Psycho in particular.
This slim volume is less than 200 pages long and reads more like a series of short essays for somebody's film blog rather than a serious book by a world-renowned film critic. The first fifty pages are literally almost a scene-by-scene recitation of the entire movie with no analysis or context. What is the point of this exercise??? It strikes me as so self-indulgent in a short work that has a big thesis to prove.
Thomson is also very obsessed with the first 40 minutes of the film - right up to the infamous shower scene. Post Marion's murder, for him the movie unravels and pales in comparison to the first half. For me, Psycho works as an organic whole, a symphony of screeching violins and Hitchcock's masterful sleight of hand. Hitchcock wants us positioned just so on the rug for maximum effect when he pulls it out from underneath us. This requires the effort of the entire movie, not merely the first 40 minutes, no matter how well set up.
In fact, one of my favorite moments in the film comes after the shower scene, when Norman performs his frantic, largely silent clean-up that features the slow sinking of Marion's car into the dark swamp. I love that moment when the car pauses and stops sinking. We're surprised to discover that we want Norman to succeed in the cover-up. We feel bad for him, with his lonely life and his crazy mother. Now with Marion out of the picture, he has become the character who we identify with the most. We are being manipulated for the big reveal. It's crucial the audience feels something for Norman, and while the first 40 minutes are critical, to assess the rest of the film as weak and untethered is unimaginable to me.
One of the most interesting aspects of Psycho is how it was marketed. Hitchcock's lengthy teaser trailer was unheard of at the time, as was his explicit directive that no audience member be allowed into the movie once it had begun. Studio exec Lew Wasserman argued for big simultaneous openings in LA and New York, quickly followed by the widest possible release, also unheard of at the time. It's interesting to note that it would be Wasserman, some 15 years later, who would finally succeed in his bid for nationwide release with Jaws, the first ever summer blockbuster that opened simultaneously in 400 theaters. None of this interests Thomson however, and his discussion of these matters takes up a measly, utterly disappointing five pages.
The chapter I was most keen to read is entitled, "Other Bodies in the Swamp" (great title!) Here, Thomson's thesis is to examine "the spreading influence [Psycho] exerted on other films, especially in the treatment of sex and violence." It's territory that's been trampled to death, for if you look hard enough you can see the long reach of Hitchcock just about everywhere in film. But here is a seasoned film critic who specifically wants to single out Psycho and measure its long shadow over contemporary movie-making. I can get on board with that.
This is the weakest and most pathetic chapter (second only to the weirdly included, Kerouacian chapter on driving America's highways and stopping at small motels along the way). Thomson's analyses of the films he selects are ridiculously superficial not to mention rife with spoilers, which should always come with a warning. He includes John Carpenter's Halloween (1978) when Sean S. Cunningham's Friday the 13th (1980) is Psycho in reverse - it's not the son who is doing all the killing, it's the mom!!! He also tries to make a case for Kubrick's The Shining (1980) when anyone with a lick of sense knows it's DePalma's Carrie (1976) that has Psycho all over it, from the opening shower scene, the cheekily named Bates High School, the crazy, overbearing mother, and Psycho's four note violin theme making repeated appearances.
Where we really see Hitchcock's influence on DePalma's film-making style at work is in the treatment of voyeurism. Hitchcock was all about voyeurism, not just for his characters, but for his audience. What are you doing when you go to a movie? You are engaging in the ultimate act of voyeurism. In Psycho, we spy on Norman spying on Marion through a hole in the wall. In Carrie, we spy on Chris and Billy as they hide under the stage and wait for the perfect moment to drop the bucket of pig's blood. We watch Sue Snell's expression as she traces the rope to its final destination. Her eyes become our eyes, just as our eyes became Norman's during his spying of Marion. It's a shifting of guilt and a kind of audience culpability that Hitchcock mastered.
This is such a lame excuse for a book that I'm embarrassed for it. I cannot speak for the author's other works. I'm sure his sizable reputation in the field contributed to this "grocery list" being published in the first place. It should not have been. It is a waste of paper and the reader's time. It doesn't even come close to proving that Alfred Hitchcock taught America to love murder, nor does it even try to. Save your time and your money. Watch the movie instead. You and your friends will come up with way more interesting things to say about it than this guy does here. ...more
How could I resist a behemoth, colorful coffee table book about cinematic monsters put together by the legendary John Landis? I couldn't of course, it How could I resist a behemoth, colorful coffee table book about cinematic monsters put together by the legendary John Landis? I couldn't of course, it would have been impossible, which is why I'm writing this review.
I have a bit of fangirl squee going on for Mr. Landis, who wrote and directed one of my favorite movies of all time -- An American Werewolf in London. He's also famous for Animal House and The Blues Brothers (and a plethora of cheesy stinkers that I won't mention here). Landis hasn't made a lot of monster movies, but what makes him the perfect person to put together a book like this is two-fold: 1) he's a screaming fanboy for the genre and 2) he's best friends with a lot of the directors -- and more significantly, special effects masters, who make the monsters come to life.
This entire book really does read like a love letter from a fanboy. Landis's characteristic exuberance pours across every page captured in about 1000 exclamation points. Seriously, this book has A LOT of exclamation points. So many I began to giggle and couldn't help but remember this scene from Seinfeld. No amount of exclamation points however, can truly capture Landis's passion and enthusiasm for the medium, his sparkling eyes, his fervent gesticulating, his habit of leaning forward as if he spends most of his life perched on the edge of his seat (which I firmly believe is the case). Watch this guy in person and you'll see what I mean.
So this is not an academic treatise on cinema culture. Landis makes this very clear in his introduction when he calls his book "a labor of love" and not "a ponderous examination of film theory." Budding special effects geeks out there should take note that the book is also missing detailed descriptions from the creators of how movie monsters actually get made. There are no secrets of the trade I'm afraid.
This book is mostly a magnificent, shiny compilation of movie stills and posters featuring just about every monster that has appeared on film in the last 100 years (the good, the bad, the ugly and the cheesy). It is by no means an all-inclusive encyclopedic list; still, there's so much to feast your eyes on, I don't think you'll be left feeling cheated. Some of the most fun I had was spent pouring over the movie posters and laughing at some of the ridiculous tag lines:
That's not how you write a tagline. This is how you write a tagline: (can you name them all without employing Google?)
1. In space, no one can hear you scream. 2. When there's no more room in Hell, the Dead will walk the Earth. 3. Who will survive, and what will be left of them? 4. A romantic comedy. With zombies. 5. Trapped in time. Surrounded by evil. Low on gas. 6. Man is the warmest place to hide. 7. To avoid fainting, keep on repeating...it's only a movie, it's only a movie. 8. If Nancy doesn't wake up screaming, she won't wake up at all 9. Herbert West has a good head on his shoulders, and another one on his desk
In addition to Landis's short introductory essays to every chapter, he has also included "conversations" with some of the biggest names in the business -- Christopher Lee, Joe Dante, David Cronenberg, Sam Raimi, Guillermo Del Toro, Ray Harryhausen, Rick Baker and John Carpenter.
I adore Guillermo Del Toro. To me he is a big giant teddy bear with a soft warm voice and a generous expansive laugh that erupts from the bottom of his belly. He is articulate, introspective, and acutely observant of the human condition. It is what makes him such an extraordinary storyteller and filmmaker. I would listen to him talk about any subject under the sun (and have in countless interviews), but when he speaks of horror and what scares us I am absolutely, positively riveted. The world could end around me and I wouldn't even notice. In the conversation recorded between he and Landis, Del Toro shares very specific ideas of what constitutes "monster" both philosophically and cinematically.
John Carpenter is the "old guy" now, cynical, almost curmudgeonly, wise with the long view. I love his take on the value of getting "to see" the monster. Implied horror which is only hinted at is basically bullshit and a cop out to Carpenter. Movies like The Haunting and The Innocents represent "the bad and beautiful way of making horror movies." He argues: "I paid my money, I want to see what the fuck it is." That made me laugh so hard. It's true that there is power in what we can imagine, but turning on the spotlights, pulling back the curtain, and letting us really see everything -- leaving nothing to the imagination -- can be a satisfying, cathartic experience in its own right. Ballsy filmmaking too, cause it can blow up in your face if the audience sees any strings or zippers.
This is one of the things that made American Werewolf in London so ground-breaking. Landis wanted to show David's violent metamorphosis from man to werewolf in broad daylight with no cutaways and thanks to the amazing work by Rick Baker he pulled it off. To this day it remains an extraordinary transformation, putting to shame many modern day monsters and their over-reliance on CGI effects.
The chapter entitled "The Devil's Work" includes Carrie White, and I do not think this is the best fit for her, since her abilities and acts of violence do not originate with or are influenced by Satan (Carrie's mother certainly believes this to be true, but we know better). I was also disappointed that Viggo Mortensen's portrayal of Lucifer in The Prophecy did not make the cut. Viggo has very little screen time, but what he has he uses to astonishing effect. It's a chilling, convincing performance (certainly heaps better than Gabriel Bryne's in End of Days alongside Arnold Schwarzenegger).
Missing from the "Ghosts" chapter is Stir of Echoes with Kevin Bacon, which always gets overlooked in favor of its more famous cousin The Sixth Sense. For the record I think Stir is the better movie. If you haven't seen it, pick it up because it is awesome.
If you have a coffee table in your home, this is the perfect book for it (or your bathroom if that's how you roll). Wherever you keep this book in your house, you'll likely never run out of horror movies to watch. There's plenty I haven't seen, and plenty more I can't wait to see again. It's a luscious, visual feast for the eyes and incredibly fun to flip through. It would make the perfect gift for the film buff or horror junkie in your life.
All I can say is, when do we get the movie? This book would make an awesome documentary. Watch the trailer here.
I love lists, I love movies, so when a little book like this comes along compiling lists of movies using unconventional themes then I'm there, popcorn I love lists, I love movies, so when a little book like this comes along compiling lists of movies using unconventional themes then I'm there, popcorn in hand. This is a cute book, but it isn't revelatory, and it isn't going to turn you into a slavering film buff if you aren't already one. There's a bit of trivia embedded in the concise film annotations, but nothing you're not going to stumble across on IMDb.
The real value of this book is to pass it around amongst friends and get inspired to make your own lists. The one thing it does well is to showcase that there are other ways to group movies together than the traditional "Best" lists critics and organizations like the AFI are famous for.
For example:
Flops That Aren't Actually Half Bad Great Movies Based on Plays Better Than the Book Psycho, and Other Surprising Christmastime Movies Nine Westerns That Aren't Westerns
I'm just getting warmed up here -- stop me before I make another list!! As I've said, I love lists. If you feel so inclined, please share in the comments. ...more
I love lists, I love horror movies, so when this little baby crossed my path I snatched it up without even thinking about it. As a handy reference guiI love lists, I love horror movies, so when this little baby crossed my path I snatched it up without even thinking about it. As a handy reference guide for the uninitiated, it's almost perfection. For the more discriminating horror veteran, it's laced with lots of glossy extras. Even though the accompanying essays are short, most are meaty, with tidbits and trivia and a little film canon context, enough to help you win your next bar bet anyways. However, spoiler phobes beware -- a few of the essays do reveal some major plot twists (which is a real shame), so watch the movies first before you read the blurbs is all I'm saying.
This 400 page pint-sized gem contains full color reproductions of the original movie posters for all 101 selected films. I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed pouring over the details in those. In addition to the posters, there is one movie still per film. Fun! As for organization, this IS NOT a countdown list from 101 to number 1. Rather, each chapter is organized by decade beginning with the 1910's and ending with the 2000's. While it's fun to countdown, I liked this presentation better. Lists can be so subjective and arbitrary at the best of times -- to come at these movies in the context of the decade in which they were made makes way more sense.
On to the list itself:
This is a very respectable selection of films, and as a horror movie buff who has been avidly watching since she was eight years old, I give the editors my stamp of approval, with a few caveats and addendums. First of all, the selections are a nice mixed bag of old and new, foreign and Hollywood. If you're not interested in classic cinema, a lot of these movies probably won't appeal to you. The first six chapters include films to the end of the 1960's. Five movies from 1932 alone. Even for my tastes, which run the gamut, I would have liked to see more emphasis on post-1960 horror cinema (it's come a long way, baby).
I also felt that the selections leaned a little too heavily on the "critical darlings" like Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci and Ingmar Bergman as well as other weird and dated movies that have been sanctified as "must see classics" amongst the snobbish film aficionados. Still, despite some of this pandering, there is a lot of celluloid on this list that if you haven't seen yet, you really must make the time to do so.
I was tremendously relieved to see that Sam Raimi's Evil Dead 2 made the list; even so, it should not have come at the exclusion of the 1981 original Evil Dead. Both are brilliant, but the original is such an exquisite piece of guerrilla filmmaking on a shoe-string budget and balls-to-the-wall wunderkind genius that to leave it out of the 1980's chapter is more than just remiss, but an actual crime. At least the original gets mentioned in passing as a landmark for the genre. Other "must see" films I was chagrined to see overlooked: Alien (1979), The Changeling (1980), and John Carpenter's The Thing (1982). Not to mention neitherversion of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Egregious oversights.
So here it is, the complete list of 101 horror movies you must see before you die. I have hyperlinked to the trailer all those near and dear to my heart.
I don't read celebrity gossip rags or keep track of who's marrying / divorcing / screwing who at any given time (not that there's anything wrong with I don't read celebrity gossip rags or keep track of who's marrying / divorcing / screwing who at any given time (not that there's anything wrong with that people!). I definitely didn't pick up this memoir of one of Hollywood's all-time pretty boys hoping for a salacious tell-all about who wears women's underwear or who includes small animals in their sex play.
So why the hell did I pick up this book? Several reasons top the list:
1) Reviews promised it offers a poignant, self-deprecating coming-of-age tale in the long shadow of the Hollywood sign (I'm happy to report that's mostly the case).
2) Rob Lowe: yes, I did crush on him when I was a teenager, and lo and behold these many, many years later, I was curious to see what kind of a man he had grown up to be. Not ever having seen one episode of The West Wing or either Austin Powers movies (a ridiculous gap in my pop culture history), I lost track of Mr. Lowe somewhere in the late 80's.
3) I'm a sucker for memoirs that focus a lot on the making of movies. Don't ask me why -- I don't act, have never wanted to make a film, but I love movies as only a fan can and every so often a memoir will come along that captures the magic of movie making in a way that enthralls me. I'm one of those geeks who will listen to director's commentary and "the making of" extra features, not for every movie, but always for the films I love. Should you care, my favorite memoir of this sort is Bruce Campbell's If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor. Bloody brilliant!
So for all of these reasons, I knew pretty early on Rob and I would be spending a few evenings together. I went with the audio version and am so glad I did. Rob's voice is lovely, but he also offers up a pretty decent impersonation of almost every person he has crossed paths with. Not all of them are great, but most are funny, and a few are so spot on they had me rolling with laughter. He certainly had Patrick Swayze down cold. I particularly loved his wry assessment of his super energetic co-star: "he makes Tom Cruise look lobotomized".
I had no idea Rob's early life included close friendships with the Sheen and Penn family. His one anecdote about the first time he meets Martin Sheen is hilarious -- considering Martin is just returned from the jungle and the two year Apocalypse Now drug-induced, frenzied insanity that was that.
There are no earth-shattering confessions. Much of the book reads like a love letter to his long-time wife (a rarity in Hollywood for sure) and children (two sons), and for a man approaching 50, that is as it should be, and I was glad to hear that he chose the road of sobriety and sensibility. Heaven knows it could have gone the other way -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ciFGqXIUPU&feature=relmfu...more
This book drips fun and if you're one of those not immune to such things, it will bite your ass so hard with the nostalgia bug, it may take you days tThis book drips fun and if you're one of those not immune to such things, it will bite your ass so hard with the nostalgia bug, it may take you days to recover. Yes, I'm one of those.
I missed the hardcore gaming hysteria of the 80s - though I did play my fair share of Pac-Man and Super Mario Bros. What I didn't miss was the music and the movies. There was a lot of shit, but there was awesomeness mixed in there too, and one of the things this book manages to do is to mine some of that awesomeness. Then it wraps it in an addictive quest adventure riddled with puzzles and clues meant to tickle the nostalgia center in your brain (I think it's located in the lower cortex, or maybe it's the amygdala?)
Either way, this really is the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for the 80s generation. It was by no means a perfect decade, but it had its moments of glory and splendor. There was a dark side to the decade, but for those of us coming of age, it was a decade filled with promise and innocence too. Much of the wool wasn't pulled from my eyes until the 90s, when arguably the music got much better, but also angrier in its rawness and honesty. In the mid-80s, I was still young, hopeful, and blissfully naive, she-bopping around to Cyndi Lauper. This book made me itchy to try and recapture some of that blissful ignorance, but as the saying goes, you can't go home again.
Then there is the invention of the OASIS itself. I'm still waiting for the hoverboards from Back to the Future II to make it to market, so I'm not gonna hold my breath on this sultry siren song of the most mind-blowing virtual reality version to come to fruition any time soon. I would say we're all better off if it doesn't. I mean, who could resist? (view spoiler)[Live in my favorite movie or TV show? You mean I can be Brody on the Orca? Or hunt demons with Dean Winchester? You would never see me again! (hide spoiler)]
Book? What's a book? Notice how not one novel is mentioned in this story (well, save for Halliday's Almanac thing). There's good reason for that. If you've been sucked into "Neverland on crack" it won't leave much time for pleasure reading. I know the character of Halliday is a gaming geek at heart (which I guess means he doesn't read), but I was so disappointed that there was no referencing of the iconic novels of the 80s. And while I appreciated some of the movie references, I really missed the shout-outs to the horror genre. Not only does this decade mark the rise of Stephen King, but there's The Shining, The Evil Dead, The Thing, An American Werewolf in London, The Lost Boys (I could go on, but I won't).
Bottom line, this is a FUN book, addicting and charming, and I can't imagine it won't be optioned for the big screen. This book is epically cinematic and will likely make an even better movie. ...more
Horror movies and I? We go way back. I've been a voracious consumer since I was eight and my enthusiasm for the genre hasn't diminished with ... ahemHorror movies and I? We go way back. I've been a voracious consumer since I was eight and my enthusiasm for the genre hasn't diminished with ... ahem ... maturity and wisdom. So yeah, it's been a lifelong love affair, one I don't hide, or feel I need to apologize for. Because even amidst the dreck, there exists some awesome cinematic gems, and amidst the classics there are film moments of hair-raising, heart-stopping, enviable genius.
The naysayers who decry: "how can you watch that garbage" are rude asshats, unimaginative douchebags or big fat chickens. Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. Rationally I know horror movies aren't for everyone, but there's that rabid part of my brain that thinks if you're not with us, you're against us.
In writing this little manifesto on how to survive a horror movie, Seth Grahame-Smith proves that he understands horror and humor are a marriage made in heaven – the two go together like Pam and Jim, Butch and Sundance, Pancho and Lefty, Dolly and Kenny and that other celestial match – Sam and Bruce. Horror indulges in all forms of comedy – satire, slapstick, black, blue, Freudian, farce, irony – you name it, it’s been done; in some cases to humbling effect, either deliberately with great focus, or by happy, moronic accident. Don’t believe me? Look no further than these cinema classics (and I’m not being facetious here): An American Werewolf in London, Evil Dead I and II, The Return of the Living Dead, Creepshow, and Shaun of the Dead.
All of the above are prime examples of why I’d rather be watching horror movies rather than reading about them. But every now and then a book of this sort breaks through my defenses, giving me that “come hither” look I just can’t resist. This book has giggles, a few gut busters, and a whole lot of in-jokes delivered with tongue firmly planted in cheek. There are some sections that fall flat being over-written and a little dumb, but there are also shining moments of pure cleverness. Any die-hard horror fan who reads this little book is going to think “I could have written this and probably done a better job”; maybe, but you didn’t, and neither did I so we’re going to shut our pie holes and give props where they’re due.
More than anything, this little book is pure goddamn fun. Plain and simple. However, it is not a classic – for that you have to read If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor and Danse Macabre. These definitive texts will teach you everything you need to know about the industry, the genre, the people who make their living by it, and the people who love it. Seth Grahame-Smith wants to make us laugh, but it also comes across how much he loves celluloid horror and because of that I know he is one of us and therefore to be trusted.
There are just too many delightful nuggets to quote from here and rather than trying to capture them all I’m just going to say go read the book. But I can’t resist throwing out a few of my favorites:
The Seven Deadly Horror Movie Sins: 3rd Deadly Sin: Independence – “Screw you guys I’m going home”. Actually you’re going about a third of the way home.
5th Deadly Sin: Curiosity – “Do you think it’s dead?” No. Go ahead and poke it with a stick.
How to Defeat a Killer Doll: Kick the Crap Out of It. Why are you running away from something that could be imprisoned with Legos?
How to Kill a Vampire: Interview It.
What to Do If Your Corn Has Children In It (I still can’t say this out loud without giggling my ass off)
The Amityville Horror (1979) – Bad things happen in house. Family buys house. Bad things happen to family.
Carrie (1976) – If you haven’t seen this masterpiece yet, pelt yourself with tampons and go to your prayer closet.
The Hitcher (1986) – How many times do I have to tell you: Never pick up Rutger Hauer!
Seven (1995) – I went to see this film by myself on a cold, rainy Boston day. I haven’t smiled since.
The Sixth Sense (1999) – Hi, my name’s M. Night Shyamalan. Trust me…you’ll learn how to pronounce it.
This book is a visual, gory feast -- lavishly illustrated -- for horror movie buffs everywhere. Since film is such a visual medium, it makes sense thaThis book is a visual, gory feast -- lavishly illustrated -- for horror movie buffs everywhere. Since film is such a visual medium, it makes sense that it's the pictures that make this book worth a look, certainly not the text -- which falls waaaay short. The editors have not offered any new insights or revealed any long held secrets about these iconic films. Most of what the contributors have to say, has been said elsewhere (and better).
The films included are popular and mainstream, and mostly American, so if you're looking for foreign or more cultish selections, you will be disappointed. Sam Raimi's Evil Dead franchise is mentioned but briefly and only in passing with no movie stills ... an unforgivable omission in my books. Also, I don't know how any of these reference books get published without an index! Still ... this is a fun book and a scrumptious display of movie images from both old-style Hollywood to the sleek and inventive Asian horror. ...more
So this book promises to deliver up the 101 strangest, sleaziest, most outrageous movies you've never seen -- and let me tell you that's not an idle bSo this book promises to deliver up the 101 strangest, sleaziest, most outrageous movies you've never seen -- and let me tell you that's not an idle boast. Romano really, really, really delivers the goods on that score. The films listed are strange, sleazy, and outrageous and I haven't seen any of them. Given the "mockumentary" nature of the imaginary canon entirely made up and pulled out of the ether, there's a very good reason for that!
I love movies, and fancy myself a bit of a cinephile, but this collection is truly for the hardcore, low-budget movie fanatic with a penchant toward the bizarre and sexploitative (some of these drive-in / adult movie house flicks make Russ Meyer movies look like Disney productions).
What does this book have going for it to warrant 5 stars? Despite its sleazy inspirations and subject matter, it is an amazing compilation of underground cinema's greatest hits. Pardon the expression, but it's a cult classic lover's wet dream. With tongue firmly in cheek Romano has an encyclopedic knowledge of the extremely no-budget indie movie scene; his essays are rich in behind-the-scenes details, little known facts and interesting tidbits that if you can stomach to read it, pull the whole trashy scene together into a fascinating larger cultural context. I admit I skimmed most of the essays, but what I did read was sordid, sick and utterly entertaining.
What's more, the color plates of the fake movie posters are fantastic; my favorite part was collecting all the obscure tag lines -- oh! so dreadful but too goddamn funny to be missed.
Twisted Kisser:This man has just killed his wife for the second time...will the third time be the charm? Toolshed of the Living Dead:For godsake, don't go in the shed!
That's just the tip of the iceberg. I would say this is a book you want to own and cherish -- the ultimate coffee-table book -- but friends and family may disown you, so perhaps it's just better to borrow it in secret from your public library like I did. ...more
I was really excited when I first heard that Stephen King was compiling a book about his favorite short stories that have been turned into films. I hoI was really excited when I first heard that Stephen King was compiling a book about his favorite short stories that have been turned into films. I hoped and prayed for something that was a cross between On Writing and the ever so classic and insightful Danse Macabre -- but alas, what King fans get is a reprinting of five previously published stories.
Once I got over my initial (crushing) disappointment, I realized that the old stories are at least introduced by King, and these short intros are new. So at least that's something. Furthermore, the five stories he has selected are oldies but goodies, as the saying goes. Readers unfamiliar with King's shorter works now have a chance to see that not everything the master writes is of door-stop length. When he has a mind to, King can embrace shorter but sweeter and do a fine job. Anyone who hasn't read Rita Hayworth & the Shawshank Redemption is in for a real treat. If you haven't seen Frank Darabont's adaptation starring Morgan Freeman and Tim Robbins rent it tonight! You won't regret it. It's wonderful, and not horror, but dramatic and sad and beautiful and hopeful....more
Very cool, very funny...this comprehensive, sometimes off-the-wall, book of lists is chock full of mainstream horror and hard-to-find cult classics anVery cool, very funny...this comprehensive, sometimes off-the-wall, book of lists is chock full of mainstream horror and hard-to-find cult classics and a must read for the horror addict (and dedicated listmaker nerds like myself). I had an absolute ball perusing these colorful lists, compiled by some of the biggest names in the genre, including Stephen King (who lists his 10 favourite horror novels / short stories of all time). You will be inspired, intrigued, and amazed and have a helluva good time along the way. You will also never lack for a good movie or book idea ever again. For the horror novice, this deluge of lists is a baptism by fire of everything the genre has to offer, from the good, the bad, the ugly ... and the Italian ;-) Trivia buffs will rejoice!
My only criticism is that the book does not have a Table of Contents (or an index) for each list, so you can end up doing a lot of flipping pages to find the ones you want again. Other than that, dig in and enjoy!...more
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