The Blind Buy
As I’ve said, apathy is easy. So it is with tremendous ease that I will drop money on a DVD or Blu-ray that I’ve never seen or even heard of before I buy it. It is a habit that has yielded some amazing gems such as Ink and Avalon.
A few weeks ago I was feeling a bit antsy with some gift cards in my pocket and a need for quirky films about humanity. I took to searching comments about movies I have already seen that I enjoyed and were similar in feeling to what I was craving. In those comments I found recommendations for other films — films I’d never heard of before. Armed with a list of titles I set to work and, three weeks later, had in my possession some new blind buys: Sunshine, The Fountain and The Fall.
Were these blind buys successful?
A Taste Of My Mid-Life Crisis
Yesterday was haircut day for yours truly. I pulled out of my driveway and threw on the radio, ignoring sports talk, the wife’s pop stations, and the local college’s radio offering in favor of some nice rock radio channel-surfing. I tuned into what I thought was the local classic rock station out of Boston and settled in for some Boston or Bob Seger or Led Zeppelin. Maybe some Gimme Shelter, Feel Like Makin’ Love, or Somebody To Love (the Queen version, as Jefferson Airplane would be on the oldies channel). But I had clearly made a mistake of preset, because instead of the sweet riffs of Hendrix or the octopus-style drumming of Ginger Baker or Michael Anthony’s ignorable bass lines, I got an earful of…Slash.
She’s got a smile it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue skies
(Skies…skies…)
Well that couldn’t be right. My wife must’ve changed up the presets, right? Obviously I was too busy driving safely out of my street to pay attention to which station I hit, right? Clearly I had stumbled on the rock station out of Providence, RI, right? Classic rock wouldn’t be playing Guns ‘n’ Roses, right? Right? RIGHT???
But it could, and it did, and it had. And as I listened to the song that extended hair metal’s life by about five years, a few things occurred to me:
1) Guns ‘n’ Roses’ classic debut, Appetite For Destruction, is 25 years old this year.
2) The music that I listened to growing up and considered “classic rock” was between 15 and 25 years old at the time.
3) Which means, goddamn it, I am getting older…
* * *
Believe me, I don’t fear it, or try to fight against it. I’m quite comfortable with my age. On my 30th birthday, as I discovered strands of grey in my hair while getting ready for the day, I found myself smiling with pride and relief – grey hair on your head isn’t brown hair in the sink, and I’d rather be grey than bald any day of the week. I am exactly 20 years older than my niece, and 24 years older than my nephew, and I have had the joy and privilege of watching them grow and mature into people that I not only love as family but truly like as people on their own terms. The horror flicks I could only dream of renting as a wee lad are now part of my permanent DVD collection, to be savored any time I want. And I wouldn’t want to be a teenager again for anything – I’m not so far removed from those years that nostalgia colors the reality of those awkward, sometimes terrifying, rites of passage into adulthood.
But I will not lie to you. Hearing Guns ‘n’ Roses (a band that not only has its roots in the 80s, but in the late 80s, which makes it older than a college’s Class of 2012) on classic rock radio (which traditionally featured music from the late 60s through the 70s) was a cold slap of reality. The only 80s music that classic rock would play was (should be?) the later albums of bands with their roots in the earlier decades (Aeromsmith’s Permanent Vacation and Pump…The Police…Van Halen…AC/DC with Brian Johnson on vocals…you get the idea). Now I have to realistically expect music from my teenage years to feature prominently, though I pray it’ll only be true rock bands like Guns ‘n’ Roses, Def Leppard (up to Pyromania, please, as I was sick of the Hysteria album after the 3rd listen), Scorpions, Motley Crue…and not the pretty-boy “glam metal” of Poison, Warrant, Enuff Z’Nuff, Trixter, and what a female friend from my distant past referred to as “White bands” (White Lion, Whitesnake, Great White…). I don’t think my heart can take those slow-dancing pop standards (“Love Of A Lifetime,” “When The Children Cry,” “Fly High Michelle,” “Heaven,” and so on ad nauseum) being lumped in as “classic rock” alongside “More Than A Feeling,” “Seasons Of Wither,” “Unchained,” “Night Moves,” and so many just-plain-great tunes.
Which may be music snobbery on my part. I like those songs for the most part, but I don’t think they belong with the giants of my own youth. Put it this way: whether you love or hate Bruce Springsteen, Ozzy Osbourne (with Black Sabbath or solo), or the Rolling Stones, do you REALLY think Poison’s Open Up And Say Ahhh! album belongs alongside Born To Run, Paranoid, or Sticky Fingers? Can you name a single hair band that belongs in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame? That music speaks to a time in our pop culture history, true, but so do the exploitation films of the 70s. And while I love Coffey, Foxy Brown, the Blind Dead series, The Devil’s Nightmare, School Of The Holy Beast, and the slasher flicks of the 80s, I have no illusions that those movies are not classics in the traditional sense. I’m not kidding myself by putting them at the same level of the first two Godfather films, Glengarry Glen Ross, or the majority of Hitchcock’s filmography. The exploitation genre, and glam metal, is junk food. And while I like junk food, I’m not eating it for dinner.
But the truth is the truth. Time passes whether you like it or not. The “latest” of our parents becomes our “classic.” The music that I remember as new and revolutionary is oftentimes dismissed as “old people’s music.” And so, in the end, I have to make my peace with the fact that I am…shudder…an adult. To be referred to as “Mr. Scheckland” by the kids in my neighborhood. To remember where I was and how I reacted to my first time seeing Guns ‘n’ Roses and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video on MTV. To chuckle at the memories of slow dancing with girlfriends to those wonderfully, awfully cheesy hair ballads. To grit my teeth and get used to hearing “Rock You Like A Hurricane” and “Rock Of Ages” and maybe “I Wanna Rock” on the same radio channel as “Rock ‘n’ Roll Never Forgets” and “Rock ‘n’ Roll” and “We Will Rock You.” To accept my pop culture age with the same grace that I accepted my biological age. Hey, at least I have my iPod to help me ease into that particular tar pit with “Peace Of Mind,” right?
But I swear, the first time I hear “Wish You Were Here” segue-way into “Give It To Me Good” or “Talk Dirty To Me” or – God help me – “The Final Countdown,” I will tear my car stereo out with my bare hands and toss it out of my car…
And John Adams? I wouldn’t laugh. You’re less than five years away from Smashing Pumpkins being tossed in with the rest of us dinosaurs…
Apathy Is Easy
It really is. I’m not sure if this is a trait limited to just dicks or if it’s a shared human experience. All I know is that after work it’s easier to drink beer and watch television than to actually accomplish something meaningful, like laundry or writing a blog post.
I’ll go find some clean underwear and something to write about.
What Matsumoto Likes
Shibatabread has translated an episode of Downtown’s Gaki no Tsukai ya Arahende (ダウンタウンのガキの使いやあらへんで!!) in which the four other comedians try giving Matsumoto different items to see whether or not he likes them. The manner in which Matsumoto receives these gifts is… different.
GNT (Subbed) What Matsumoto Likes uploaded by ShibataBread.
I laughed much more than usual at this episode. There is a casualness to their filming with complete acknowledgement that the setups are silly, odd, and sometimes don’t make sense. Knowing everyone’s reactions are more real than scripted make the especially funny moments in this even more especially funny.
31 in 31: Third Film’s a Charmer
The film I’m about to talk about is…well, it’s one of my favorites. Not just one of my favorite horror films, but one of my favorite films, period. It’s one I know I can show to non-horror fans and have them enjoy. And if this is your first time hearing about or seeing it, then I envy you. Please, permit me to introduce you to…
Behind The Mask: The Rise Of Leslie Vernon (2006)
Glen Echo is a quiet town with a secret. Twenty years ago, a young boy was captured by a mob and killed in what can only be called vigilante justice. Tossed over a waterfall for his crimes, the boy was left for dead. Now, as the anniversary of his death approaches, the boy has returned home. He is no town legend. He is all-too-real. He has invited a documentary film crew to see what he will do, why he will do it, and bear witness to the birth of a new monster. Crystal Lake has Voorhees. Springwood, Krueger. Haddonfield remembers the name, Myers. Now, Glen Echo was come face-to-face with the sins of its past and remember the name…Vernon.
Behind The Mask: The Rise Of Leslie Vernon is more than a mockumentary, more than a slasher flick. It is a seamless combination and more than the sum of its parts. We are brought into a world where all of those “supernatural murderers” (Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, et al) are real beings. And yet, when we meet Leslie, we find he is no different from us. He is intelligent and charming. He loves his pet turtles and is loyal to his friends. He charms us, and because we cannot help but like him, we become – like grad students/filmmakers Taylor, Todd, and Doug – complicit in the crimes he intends to commit.
In lesser hands, the film wouldn’t work. But the script, written by David J. Stieve and Scott Glosserman (who also directed), provides a great balance of humor, tension, and flat out horror. We genuinely like Leslie and the college students who follow him, as well has the husband and wife who act as Leslie’s mentors and have a history of their own. As a result, we find ourselves rooting against Robert Englund in the role of the Loomis-like Doc Halloran. And, as the body count rises, we eagerly wait for Vernon’s chosen “final girl” to step up and accept her destiny. The film breaks down the cliches of the slasher film while simultaneously confirming and building on them. There is gore, but it is restrained. The end result is a horror flick that entertains both new horror fans and those who’ve “seen it all.”
There are cameos. Kane Hodder (of the Hatchet films, Friday the 13th sequels, and too many horror flicks to list) briefly shows up as a citizen of Glen Cove. Zelda (Poltergeist) Rubenstein plays a librarian in what would be her final role. There is the aforementioned Robert (Freddy Krueger) Englund. And the great Scott Wilson plays Vernon’s mentor, Eugene. The main characters – Angela Goethal as Taylor Gentry, Ben Pace as Doug, and Britain Spellings as Todd – are charming and likeable. But no one steals the show from Nathan Baesel as Leslie Vernon. In fact, it is a crime that he hasn’t appeared in more films.
I’m begging you, see Behind The Mask: The Rise Of Leslie Vernon. You will love it. It’s on Netflix Streaming right now, and it’s well worth your time. If you do decide to take my word – and Cthulhu bless you for that – it wouldn’t hurt to try and get a copy of the DVD, as the deleted scenes are brilliant in their own right (especially the scene that explains how a walking killer can catch a victim that’s running for its life). I leave you with two final thoughts:
1) The sequel is in pre-production. Because Starz/Anchor Bay – the distributors of the first film – stupidly doesn’t want to be involved with it, the creators are following a more grass roots approach to raising funds. If you find yourself loving this films as much as I do, please visit their Facebook page
here and consider helping out.
2) LONG LIVE LESLIE VERNON!!!
31 in 31: JT Petty
And so it begins!
The beauty of being a horror fan these days is that one has a wealth of places one can look when one is hunting for the next fix. Back in the 80s, one needed to rely on the local Mom ‘n’ Pop video store, Fangoria magazine, and basic word of mouth to find the good stuff. But today? If you can’t find a copy of magazines like Rue Morgue or Fangoria near you, there are enough web sites and message boards to help guide you. On Demand, Netflix, Red Box, and Blockbuster also help to feed the need. It is a good time to be a horror fan!
FILM #1: THE BURROWERS (2008)
To start the month off, I decided to finally watch a film that I’d heard about through various channels, from various people. Word of mouth was good enough, and I’m a sucker for cross-genre flicks, so this Western/Horror movie was right up my alley. The Burrowers, set back in the Dakota Territories of the 1870s, starts out with an attack on a homestead. The men are killed and the women and children are kidnapped. A posse is formed to track down the Native Americans responsible, but what they find is something far, far worse.
The beauty of The Burrowers is that director JT Petty (and you wondered why his name is in the title!) balances what makes a solid horror flick with the beats of a good Western. Relations with the local native tribes can charitably be called “hostile,” as can the (beautifully shot!) land itself. In other words, these characters that we root for face plenty of danger before the secret of what they’re hunting is revealed. It is a credit to the director and the script that our heroes do not do anything illogical or stupid – mistakes are made, but within the confines of what little the characters know or believe.
The Burrowers is a meticulously paced film. Petty succeeds in crafting a suspenseful little flick that relies more on a building of dread than on cheap jump scares. Characters are developed in such a way that the viewer’s sympathies are earned and never betrayed, and when death comes, it has impact. And it’s not much a spoiler to call the climax and ending bleakly realistic. Which makes The Burrowers a good film for me to start my month of viewing and one that is well worth your viewing time. Which brings me to…
FILM #2: SOFT FOR DIGGING (2001)
When a hermit goes looking for his escaped cat, he is witness to a horrible crime. He reports it to the police, but when a search turns up nothing, the case is quickly closed. Did he imagine the whole thing, or did someone get away with murder?
It’s a quick synopsis for a quick (74 minute running time) film. But the plot of JT Petty’s film debut moves like its elderly main character. The first line of dialogue (“Murder…”) occurs at about the 14 minute mark, and not another word is spoken until about the 62nd. One hopes that the soundtrack and acting will help move the film along, but one is disappointed. In fact, there are “chapter” cards that actually slow the pacing down further. The revelation of killer and motivation borders on nonsensical, which adversely affects the fate of the killer (about which I will only say “two minutes of sheer audio annoyance”) as well as the end of the film. Which is a shame, because those opening 14 minutes, while glacial in pacing, set up what should have been a tense, brisk film. But chalk up Soft For Digging as a learning experience for a director who would later make something as solidly creepy and entertaining as The Burrowers.
Check The Fucking Label
Right, no fucking around. This post is for men, by men.
Gentlemen I tell you this, and it is a hard lesson learned, check the fucking label.
This is a message that has numerous applications to all facets of the male lifestyle, however trying to apply this message to all facets of the male lifestyle is too fucking hard and tedious. I speak to one specific application of this message: purchasing underarm deodorant. This is my story.
Building the Ferrari 458 Italia
The Ferrari 458 Italia is probably the prettiest Ferrari to come out of their factories for a couple decades. It’s also a car that Ferrari is especially proud of and rightfully so. To that end they’ve put together a series of videos that walk you through the process of creating a 458 from raw bars of aluminum to the finished car ready to go into the garages of rich and lucky people. Watching these videos will kill an hour or so of your time, but I (and perhaps a few others will) find it very interesting. By the time you finish watching these videos the massive price tag of the Italia, around the US$250,000 mark, suddenly starts to make some sense.
31 in 31: The Pre-Game Show
September 25th??? Jaysus, where does the time go???
We have so much to discuss. Books to review. Films to rave about and slag. I’m sure I have a fantasy sports rant in me somewhere. And I keep putting off my review of a nasty li’l (heh…) film called The Sinful Dwarf. But all of that needs to stay on the back burner for now. You’ll have to wait to hear my thoughts regarding the first two parts of Mira Grant’s zombie apocalypse trilogy. No time (yet) to convince you that Pirate Radio is a film that is very, very good for you. Amanda Palmer will dodge my loving ire for a bit longer. Because we are six days from October, and with that months comes Halloween, which has inspired two traditions in the Scheckland household: the reading of The Book of Lists: Horror and Stephen King’s Danse Macabre, and…
31 Films in 31 days!!!
The rules are pretty simple. Over the course of October, I will watch 31 horror/exploitation films (averaging – you guessed it! – one a day for 31 days), and post my thoughts and reviews in this very forum for your amusement. To make things more difficult or interesting, I usually set limits for my viewing – only films I’ve never seen before, strictly foreign horrors, a month of slashers, “It Came From My Cable Box,” etc. This year, to add a more interactive wrinkle, I will only watch movies I get from Netflix Online. While that will make viewing easier as far as my ability to actually find films, it makes thinks a bit more interesting in that anything I watch, you can watch. As always, if I don’t post it, I didn’t watch it. So, in six days time, please join me as I kill time, (probably) brain cells, and (quite possibly) the will to live.
31 Films in 31 days!!!
Absolutely Tasty
I’d hate to run the month of September without a post to Team Dick. Lacking that extra link in the archives list you see to the right would be sad. I have more than a few things I could write about, but it’s all too serious.
Thankfully I was inspired the other day to repeat something I saw on television! Now I’ve got fodder for a blog post.