Midnight Movie of the Week #125 - Chopping Mall

After Popatopolis, I felt like I needed a reminder about why Jim Wynorski belongs in the heart of the midnight movie lover, despite his more recent SKINematic adventures.  Enter Chopping Mall, the only slasher movie whose killers are robots that look like souped up and angry at the world versions of Johnny Five.  Wynorski's 1986 flick - the second of the 90 films he's directed - might be the greatest thing he ever did. That might sound sad to some, but I'm determined to make this a tribute to Wynorski's fine early work, not a reflection on his tit-flicks.

If you need a synopsis, here it is.  A bunch of couples - offset by nerdy guy Fredy (Tony O'Dell) and sweet girl Alison (Night of the Comet's Kelli Maroney) decide to have sex and/or petting (gotta keep one virgin in the game, right?) in a shopping mall department store after hours on a Friday night (apparently the store won't be open again till Monday...which seems kind of ridiculous).  The problem, as evidenced by the film's alternate title (Killbots), are three security robots, once known as "Protectors" who are malfunctioning due to a good old fashioned lightning strike.  When Benjamin Franklin discovered electricity, he was clearly looking forward to this moment in history.

With that synopsis and a script that includes lines like "I guess I'm just not used to being chased around the mall in the middle of the night by killer robots", Chopping Mall pretty much sells itself to the viewer.  This is the part where I'm supposed to pull a magic rabbit out of my film observing hat, and tell you how there's a deeper, underlying issue in the film that really makes me love it.  But, if I were to pull that trick right now...it would be a crock of crap.

With apologies to the deep meaning lovin' crowd, Chopping Mall is exactly what you'd expect Chopping Mall to be - a tongue in cheek flick filled with carnage, poor attempts at comedy, a few nude scenes, and the horror cliches that anyone who grew up in the '80s was born to love.  And it's that face value charm - the charm that comes out when you realize that Chopping Mall offers up EXACTLY what you'd expect from a film called Chopping Mall - that really makes this one a winner in my book.

Of course, expectations might run a little low for some - I'm ashamed to admit that I avoided this movie for years because I couldn't believe that it wouldn't find a way to mess up the premise - so perhaps I should point out a few high points of Wynorski's film.  The cast of '80s actors doesn't include any glaringly awful performances that detract from the experience. (On the flip side, Maroney and O'Dell are actually very likable, and the gorgeous Ms. Crampton is never a bad thing to watch.)  The camerawork and editing are professional, are accompanied by a synthetic musical score that fits the time period perfectly, and the whole flick clocks in well under 80 minutes - meaning it can't overstay its welcome.  I know it sounds like I'm basically saying "the movie does everything OK", but don't tell me you haven't seen an otherwise exciting b-movie ruined by one or more of those things going terribly wrong before.  The film also gets a boost in credibility - at least in my mind - because it's shot in the same Los Angeles mall that has hosted a ton of Hollywood productions, most notably - again in my mind - Commando.

The point? The point is that all of those things that you might expect would ruin a cheesefest like Chopping Mall are handled well by the director and his cast and crew, who were definitely having fun with such a sensational idea for a horror film.  It's truly a rare occasion when such a blatant b-movie meets its potential perfectly - Remember how excited everyone was about Snakes on a Plane? I love that flick too, but it certainly missed a few marks and left a lot of bad impressions - and that's the kind of movie that I'll always throw my weight behind.  If you're looking for something that you can write a term paper on for a film class, go elsewhere.  If you want to see the prototype for after hours cable cinema of the late '80s, go hit up the Chopping Mall.

Here's A Podcast I Did About They Live

Gosh you guys, I've been supposed to tell you about this for like two weeks. And I'm stupid sometimes, so I forgot.

Anyway, I'm very honored to have been given a chance to be a guest on The Sinister Spotlight over at Mephisto's Castle, where good ol' Jose let me pick any movie in the world that I wanted to talk about.  He hit me over the head with a hammer when I picked Take The Lead starring Antonio Banderas as a dance teacher, so then I changed my mind and picked They Live.

What follows is the YouTube link to said podcast.  It features some good thoughts and an unconstitutional amount of "uh huhs", "yeahs", and "yeps".  There's a reason I keep to using this keyboard, folks.

Anyway, if you'd like to peep it....here you go.

Popatopolis

(2009, Dir. by Clay Westervelt.)

You know you're a b-movie nerd when you find yourself immensely fascinated by the chance to watch Jim Wynorski at work. I've never given much thought to what it's like on a Martin Scorsese set or pondered how much work gets done in a day by Quentin Tarantino. But when I heard about Popatopolis - a documentary that follows Jim Wynorski through the filming of a b-movie - I was instantly intrigued.

I've written a little bit about my experience with Wynorski in the past, but here's a recap. When I was a wee The Mike, Wynorski's The Return of Swamp Thing was one of my favorite things in the world.  That was my first Wynorski experience, so imagine my surprise when a much older The Mike decided to give Cheerleader Massacre - which looked like a cheesy slasher from the outside - a chance based on Wynorski's name.  The gap in both style and substance between the goofy and fun '80s flick and the poorly constructed, z-grade slasher with a softcore sex scene in the middle was gigantic as can be.  (And that's considering how little style and substance something like The Return of Swamp Thing has.)

My studies of Wynorski moved backwards to campy '80s goodness like Not of this Earth and Chopping Mall - and I seriously had a conversation yesterday with someone about Chopping Mall being one of the 100 best movies ever - so it was another sharp contrast when I jumped into this documentary, which follows the director as he makes his 2005 opus The Witches of Breastwick - and does so in three days.  The film follows Wynorski and his cast - which consists of a bunch of girls who are willing to "pop their tops" and one dude - while also interviewing some b-movie icons like Roger Corman, Julie Strain, and Andy Sidaris - about Wynorski's work.  The disconnect that I felt is certainly present in this movie, too.

In fact, the most interesting thing about the documentary to me is when the people around Wynorski - primarily actress Julie K. Smith, who seems like that one person in a group of friends who is smart and likes everyone but just can't stop gossiping about stuff - start to question the director for "settling" into these softcore thrillers instead of making drive-in-style films like Chopping Mall or Swamp Thing anymore.  Many of the actresses interviewed - like adult film star Stormy Daniels, who seems to have no understanding of where she's at while making her first "mainstream" movie (though she did go on to appear in both The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up, which is probably proof that Judd Apatow likes porn - don't have a lot to add to Wynorski's story and are just in the film because they happen to be in this softcore film. But Smith and Wynorski alumnus Strain, have a lot of interesting things to say about where Wynorski is at this point in his career and how the man works.

Another interesting, if not sad, twist occurs when the filmmakers interview the 55 year old Wynorski's mother, who talks about how little she knows about his films and how she saw Chopping Mall and doesn't understand why there had to be a naked scene in it.  The filmmaker seems to be making another comment about Wynorski's choice of genres at this stage in his career.  I haven't done all the research, but I'm willing to bet that the majority of Wynorski's 90 films have some female breasts in them, but titles like The Bare Wench Project, The Witches of Breastwick and the more recent Cleavagefield (you get bonus points for that pun, Jim) leave little doubt about what the director's intentions are.  And yet, here we are, talking to his 75-80 year old mother, about what kind of sweet boy he was and how he warns her not to watch his movies because she won't like them.  It's more than a bit awkward.

Popatopolis almost makes a joke out of Wynorski - Smith probably gets the biggest positive rub from the film, even though I get the feeling that the actress tries really hard to come off as a pair of tits with a heart of gold - but as we see him at work we get the feeling that there's more to the director than his half-hearted boob films.  The Jim Wynorski we see on set of this throwaway film is a passionate director who cares about what he's making and seems determined to overcome terrible odds to get his film done.  In a way, Wynorski reminds me of every day challenges where we have to buckle up, admit that we can't make everything perfect, and just fight to get the best out of the resources we have.

I've made a bunch of assumptions about a bunch of real people in this review, and I mean none of them as disrespect.  The corner of b-moviedom that hosts Jim Wynorski is just as valid to me as any other, and I'll gladly sit down with more from the director (probably from his early years, but I'm not too discriminatory) any time.  It's just that Popatopolis pulls back the curtain that I was already wondering about (Curse you, Cheerleader Massacre! You didn't even have cheerleader outfits in that movie!) and got me in that same kind of loving gossiper mode that Smith seemed to enjoy.  For better or worse, Jim Wynorski has done some cool stuff for b-movies, and Popatopolis helped my clear up my perspective on the director in plenty of ways.

If you wanna check out Popatopolis, I encourage you to use that Instant Netflix thingy and check it out.  It'll take 75 minutes of your life and - if nothing else - remind you of a few cool '80s flicks and show you some chests.  If you're like me, you might get even more out of it too.

ALAN WAKE: The Horror Universe That The Mike Needed

You guys, I'm just gonna say it. I'm really bad at video games. I try, because they're so darn fun some times, but I struggle mightily whenever they require things like more than four buttons or hand-eye coordination.  (Seriously, why can't they all be Tecmo Super Bowl?)  Anyway, I think I'm even worse at horror video games than real video games.  I like to observe horror, I don't like to participate in it.  (Yeah, that's my excuse for being a pansy.) 

So, you can see why it took me far too long to get into Alan Wake, despite my gamer friends; insistence that it was "a The Mike game" and "right up my alley."  I finally went ahead and got the game sometime last November, but it still took me forever to actually get into the darn thing. When I did, I kept thinking more pansy thoughts, like "Man, this would be great if I didn't have to PLAY it."

But I was dumb and wrong when I thought that.  As I finished Alan Wake this weekend, I became terribly mad at me.  OK, so the game play is a chore and it's wicked hard sometimes, but dangit...I kind of loved the horror story it told.  Why's that, you ask?  Well, here's a few reasons why.

I suppose backstory is important - the backstory of the game, not the boring exposition into my boring life that I already gave you - so here's Alan Wake in a nutshell.  Famous writer Stephen King Alan Wake heads to a small town called Bright Springs, where he and his wife, Alice plan to spend some time in a cabin on Cauldron Lake so he can write and not have nightmares and she can not be afraid of the dark.  Those things don't happen, Alice disappears into the darkness, and Alan - armed only with a flashlight and whatever guns, bullets, and batteries that he can find along the way - must make it through a series of crazy and supernatural nights in which ominous shadow people known as "the taken" try to off him while grunting weird one-liners from their past lives.  There's a dangerous woman in black, a weird diving suit guy who might transcend time, an angry/irrational FBI agent and a whole host of "poltergeist" objects out to stop Alan too, and plenty of twists and turns along the way.

Here's the thing: Alan Wake shouldn't work. It's repetitive, it doesn't always make sense, there's not really any "boss" battles that lead to fist-pumpingly triumphant moments, and most of the "scares" are telegraphed and or given away by the formula.  But for every one of those annoyances and flaws, there's something that makes me really love what Alan Wake has to offer as a horror narrative.

First off, there's the most obvious thing I love about Alan Wake, which goes against a lot of thinking in both the horror genre and the video game world: There's pretty much ZERO blood in Alan Wake.  I don't know about you guys, but I rarely have nightmares that are as gory as a Fulci film or a crappy modern horror remake or anything in between.  I have nightmares that don't make any kind of sense but creep me the heck out and seem like endless struggles against whatever evil is out there.  That's what Alan Wake feels like.

 Alan Wake doesn't have to sensationalize things, it doesn't have to gore things up, it just goes kinda crazy and keeps doing the same thing until it wears you down.  It was several episodes into the game - oh, we gotta talk about the episodes in a few - when I realized that the fatigue I felt while playing the game wasn't as much because it was tedious as it was because the game was intentionally trying to wear both Alan Wake and I down. It's like the Billy Zabka in Karate Kid of video games. It annoys you and that's exactly what it's supposed to do. You can't blame it for that.

There's also that big elephant in the room about Alan Wake that it really took me a while to "get". Alan Wake, the character - or, to put it more simply, the guy we're forced to spend 8-10 hours controlling - is kind of an annoying dude.  He's all emotional, he's totally monotone sometimes, and he spends a lot of time sounding like he really isn't capable of dealing with his predicament. He's not exactly a whiner, but he's not a hero.  Basically, I didn't want to like Alan Wake. So, I'm running around, being to Alan Wake what Cusack was to Malkovich, and I'm not really caring. But again, it's one of those things that just kind of happened as the game went on. Alan Wake works as an anti-hero, even if we don't like him personally, because we care about his plight.  We get so invested in the journey, and the film reveals more and more about what Alan's up against, and we start to "get" Alan Wake - both the game and the character.

(By the way, I simply can not understate what Alan's agent/friend, Barry, brings to the game.  He's one of the most fun side characters in a video game I've played, and he's a great comic relief while also being a sympathetic character too.  There's a sweet moment between Barry and Alan that was a total fist pump moment for me, and that was another moment where I really realized that I was falling for Alan Wake's methods.)

Now here's what I'm hear to really say. I think, as bad as video game adaptations usually are, that Alan Wake might actually work better as a TV series.  As I mentioned earlier, the game is specifically designed to look like a TV series, segmented out into six episodes, each of which have their own story arc and each of which tie back into the bigger plot.  I'm not gonna go all the way and say that the thing wraps up everything by the end of Episode Six - there are two more DLC Episodes and a stand-alone Arcade game that I hear add to the Alan Wake universe - but the way things tie back together shows that the folks who put together Alan Wake had a greater vision than they sometimes let on.  It's absolutely fascinating to me when I realize that I've seen very few video games with a better narrative tale than Alan Wake - because I can't believe that someone allowed a video game to tell that much story while being a horror tale.

I was so wrong about Alan Wake in the early chapters of the game, and when I got to the end I was shocked by how satisfied I felt. But my thirst for this universe of horror was not quenched, and I doubt some short DLC and an Arcade game will do the trick. When Alan Wake utters his final line of the game, it's the game's way of admitting that there is a world of possibilities out there for what could happen next in this universe.  There's no reason we couldn't have an HBO or AMC series with that guy from True Blood (the Skarsgaard kid, not v-neck shirt guy) that's produced by someone like David Cronenberg, is there?  Because that's really what Alan Wake is - a mind-bending introduction to a horror world that exists somewhere between In the Mouth of Madness and Videodrome.  There are stories to be told about Alan Wake and his world, and the ones runnin' through my head remind me of horror titans like King, Carpenter, and Cronenberg.

I know that comparison of a video game to three of the best voices in modern horror sounds cray-cray, but I honestly kind of believe it. Despite my efforts to the contrary, it turns out that Alan Wake is exactly the breath of fresh air (OK, it's a two year old breath of air now, I TOLD YOU I WAS SLOW) that I needed in the horror scene.

Well played, Xbox 360.  Well played.

Oh, and the soundtrack kicks tons of butt.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #34 - Poltergeist

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water  Number 36 - Army of Darkness  Number 35 - The Legend of Hell House

Poltergeist

(1982, Dir. by Tobe Hooper.)

Why It's Here:

When I talked about "classic" haunted house movies in that last post about The Legend of Hell House, I was talking old-fashioned stuffy stone foundation haunted houses.  I was not talking about them "Oh hey, it's a modern house that's got some haunting going on!" situations, like the one in Poltergeist.  The collaboration of Tobe Hooper and Steven Spielberg - if that's what it was....we may never know - brings haunting to a new generation.  And it does so in pretty darn fun ways.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

There are a lot of great moments I could mention here....the swimming pool (YOU TOOK THE HEADSTONES BUT YOU DIDN'T MOVE THE BODIES!), the good ol' "They're here.", or even the wacky sliding across the kitchen floor in a football helmet gag that reminds us that this is the happy '80s and that even hauntings have their happier moments.  But the clown doll and the old gnarly tree are really what get me.  

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

Considering how successful Poltergeist was, you'd figure there would be some decent imitators that followed it.  But, you'd pretty much be wrong.  Seriously, there just aren't a lot of movies quite like Poltergeist out there.  I guess it'd play pretty well with A Nightmare on Elm Street, the other darling of the early '80s that sets its horror in a very '80s neighborhood with very '80s people and dads with receding hairlines.

What It Means To Me:

I never really quite know what to make of Poltergeist.  Part of me's all like "Hey man, nobody gives Poltergeist much credit, probably because it's all commercial and stuff". Then part of me's like "Dude, you're only putting Poltergeist at 34? What's wrong with you? It's iconic and everyone's gonna laugh at you!" Such is the conundrum of Poltergeist. I'm not wildly in love with it, I'm not gonna be some pervert who goes around websites trolling and talking about how much I love Heather O'Rourke's dead corpse, but I'm also not gonna dismiss it and usually when it's on I'm not gonna change the channel. It's a paradox of horror goodness, but when you get down to it it's basically just a darn good horror movie.

Midnight Movie of the Week #124 - The Ghost In The Invisible Bikini

Don't look at me....I can't explain it either.

I might have been supposed to say SPOILER ALERT right then, considering that quote I just typed is the final line of The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini.  But anyone who's gonna be upset about spoilers for a movie called The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini isn't ready for The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini.   Heck, anyone who's planning on looking at a movie and going "oh, I didn't like how they did that scene" or "I think the tone could have been different when Monstro ripped apart the bars of his cage" isn't ready for The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini.  This is not one of them "thinking" movies.

I probably sound kind of silly, and I will continue to sound so for what is likely to be the rest of this article.  But there is something in my brain - something I, like the quote says, just can't explain - that tells me that The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini is basically the greatest mindless movie ever made.  The part of me that's researched cinema of the '50s and '60s and knows that there were tons and tons of beach party/haunted house/haunted beach party movies that came long before this one - which arrived at the tale end of that cinematic "movement" in 1966 - should probably dismiss the movie too, considering it's derivative of a lot of movies that came before it.  But those parts of me just have to be content to shut the heck up right now. Because I've been in love with The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini for several years now, and they don't have the power to take that from me.

Just listen to this set up: A recently deceased rich old guy, Hiram Stokely (played by the late Boris Karloff) is woken from his coffin by his old lover Cecily, a trapeze artist/sex symbol who tragically lost her life in a circus accident.  She lets him in on the secret of his passing, but informs him that she's here to help him "get up there". To achieve that, he has to do one good deed within 24 hours - which he parlays into a gathering of his heirs at his old, allegedly haunted estate.  He can't leave the crypt - I guess that first day of being buried is kinda an incubation period? - but if Cecily can prevent his bad heir (a sinister guy named Reginald Ripper who's played by none less than Basil Rathbone) from getting the estate and help his good heirs gain the prize and his millions, then Hiram's headed to the pearly gates.

As the characters converge on the old haunted estate, a pool party - complete with band and musical numbers led by Nancy Freakin' Sinatra - breaks out.  A seance happens, a biker gang starts to scope the joint, and a couple of circus workers show up with a giant ape in the back of their truck.  Ripper's redheaded daughter, Sinistra, tries to use her assets to woo one of the young heirs, while the two less party-centric young heirs team up to try and find a positive solution to this night of terror.  As you would guess, a mild form of madness follows.

As the characters all race around the house, crashing into each other and their surroundings, Cecily's ghost from the title moves among them - invisible bikini and all - manipulating the surroundings and causing a lot of confusion for the less morally driven partygoers.  Primarily, this means we get to see a blue outline of Susan Hart - minus those areas that would have required a bikini - popping up on the screen and making some sort of silly thing happen.  Sounds childish? Yep. But it's so ridiculously fun.

And, knowing that no movie is truly complete without some man-in-gorilla-suit action, the carnival star known as Monstro starts to make his way through the house - all the way into the "Chamber of Horrors" where the film ends as the mayhem escalates throughout the last 20 minutes of the film.  I seriously want a guy in a gorilla suit in every movie ever, you guys.  I know that's ridiculous, but I dang sure want it...and you can't take that from me.  Guys in gorilla (or ape or orangutan or whatever they are) suits are ALWAYS welcome in my world.

If you can't have fun with The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini, I'm just not sure I can talk to you right now.  It's basically like watching a live action version of Scooby Doo, except there's no stoner and dog and there's lots of girls in bikinis and there's goofy musical numbers and there's Boris Karloff getting hit on by a cute blonde who then becomes a ghost with no bikini.  And that's really all you need to know.  If you think that sounds like fun, you should probably check out The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini.  I can't explain why...but I know I'm right.  And that will help me to sleep well tonight.

 The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini kind of completes me.

Mother's Day

(2010, Dir. by Darren Lynn Bousman.)

I have to admit, I've never finished the original Mother's Day, a 1980 cult film treasure - according to some - from the folks over at Troma.  I remember trying to watch it a while back, but I was in the mood for something shiny and watching Instant Netflix is about my least favorite thing in the world, so I ended up moving on and saying I was gonna catch up with it later.  And I never did.  So, this review of Mother's Day - the recently released remake of said film - shall just focus on the newer, shinier Mother's Day.

Rebecca De Mornay - who I feel like we haven't heard from since like 1995 and something like Never Talk To Strangers - takes center stage in Darren Lynn Bousman's film, as the matriarch of a criminal family who take control of a private residence where a bunch of hip and trendy people are having some sort of celebration.  It seems that Mother's three sons have just failed in crime, and need the safety of their old home - despite its new owners (a married couple with their own issues played by Jaime King and Frank Grillo) and their guests who appear to have just walked off the set of a Light Beer commercial.

What follows is a long and painful evening of torture, tears, and tribulations.  With 5 criminals and about 10 hostages/victims, there's a lot of opportunity for varying kinds of madness and violence in the film, which runs for what feels like a terribly excessive 112 minutes.  Most of that time is spent making sure each and every character is given some sort of unique torture while also being involved in one or more different attempts to escape or overthrow the family that is holding them hostage.  Sometimes it feels like Bousman and writer Scott Milam wrote their script while playing Clue - Is it the husband in the upstairs with the clothes iron? Or is it the tattooed lady in the kitchen with the knife? - as they refuse to pass up any opportunity for a good bit of trauma.  Surprisingly, there's evidence of more restraint when the film deals with gore - there's blood, but not on a Saw-esque level - than evidence of restraint in the editing room.

Despite its repetitive nature, the film doesn't wear out its welcome entirely.  The cast is hit and miss, but the performers that shine - like King, Warren Kole as one of the brothers, and Deborah Ann Woll as the timid sister of the criminals - give very strong performances that hit all the right marks.  Other cast members are less likeable - Patrick Fleuger has some bad moments as the alpha brother, while most of the folks who spend the movie whining in the basement grated me (except the always welcome Briana Evigan, who's...well...HOT) - but there's no one in the film who completely sucks life from the production.

But the film's really all about De Mornay and her wicked turn as Mother - which, thankfully, is the best thing about the movie.  The character is one of the more interesting and disturbed that we've seen in horror for a while, and the actress plays off her past work - like her unhinged turn in The Hand That Rocks The Cradle - to balance between brutal and loving throughout the film.  There's some fantastic dark comedy inside the motives of Mother, which also allows De Mornay's performance to offer a tiny reprieve from the other terrors on screen.  To put it simply, she's the main reason I can even come close to recommending this film.

There are some good moments throughout the film - an interaction between one of the aggressors and two ill-fated women at an ATM was fantastic, and plenty of other brutal scenes are handled with surprising grace - but another edit and a little more grit would have gone a long way to making Mother's Day feel like something more than just another run-of-the-mill home invasion film.  I wanted to like the film a lot - several moments and one fantastic lead performance gave me hope - but the full package fell a little short of being something I feel comfortable suggesting to others.  I guess you could give it a rental if you're really interested, but don't get your hopes too high for this one.

The Fields

(2011, Dir. by Tom Mattera & David Mazzoni.)

Being a kid on a farm is really friggin' boring sometimes. Much like the kid at the center of The Fields, I was once a kid on a farm too - I feel his pain.  Granted, I was a kid on a farm who had to do farm work and who had a satellite dish and a Super Nintendo Entertainment System at his disposal.  But, when I wasn't busy winning Home Run Derbys with Ken Griffey Jr. and when Wayne's World 2 or Last Action Hero weren't on HBO and when I didn't have to help my dad castrate pigs or lift bales of straw - well, then I sometimes got bored.

Since this kid is on a farm in 1973 and comes from a broken family (who'd have guessed that Tara Reid wouldn't be the world's most stable mother?) - he has to deal with a lot more boredom than I did.  Which means he decides to not listen to his grandma, played by one of the greatest Iowans of all-time Cloris Leachman, and starts playing around in the fields that surround their farmhouse.  We know that's a bad choice - partly because the movie makes it seem pretty ominous, partly because it's the damn title - but it takes a long time for us to figure out why.

Instead, we get a prolonged look into the psyche of young Steven, the real star of the film, a curly haired kid who I kept expecting to shout "O'Doyle Rules!". (Yes, it's a Billy Madison reference.  HE LOOKED LIKE THOSE KIDS, alright?) But then again, I'm not entirely sure what we learn about Steven, except that he likes Godzilla and Ultraman (WHO THE HECK DOESN'T?) and runs around in corn fields while his Grandpa is nice to him and Cloris Leachman watches horror movies - if nothing else we get glimpses at Carnival of Souls and Night of the Living Dead during the film.

The Fields thinks it's a lot more dramatic than it appears to be.  Everything is presented with a kind of graceful and subdued tone, and the film does a good job of giving everything an autumnal color scheme that goes along with the mood the directors seem to desire.  It's all well and good in the looks department - even if those looks are rather drab and unappealing - but that doesn't really matter when very little drama actually happens.

Look, it's OK to try and be something bigger and more interesting than your standard indie horror film - I definitely appreciated the fact that The Fields wasn't another gorefest full of torture and teenage idiocy - but you gotta offer the viewer something more than a half-cocked story about kinda crazy folks that look like the family from The Texas Chain Saw Massacre's normal cousins from Ohio.  Seriously, if this movie was set in a desert the title would be The Hills Have An Unstable Temper But Really Aren't Scary.

It can't have that title though, because there's those darn Fields.

The Fields is now on DVD via our friends over at Breaking Glass Pictures, so feel free to learn more about it at their site or at the film's official site. It's not the worst thing I've seen in a long time, but it did little more than remind me of how boring farm living would have been without Schwarzenegger, Griffey Jr. and Wayne & Garth.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #35 - The Legend of Hell House

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water  Number 36 - Army of Darkness

The Legend of Hell House

(1973, Dir. by John Hough.)

Why It's Here:

I hate to go all smear campaign right at the start, but here's the thing.  If you put The Legend of Hell House and The Haunting in front of me - which are probably the two classic haunted house movies in my mind - I'm gonna pick The Legend of Hell House at least 4 out of 5 times. And most people go the other direction.  The Haunting is revered as the king of haunted movies and Legend of Hell House is seen as kind of its kooky cousin...and that saddens me.  The reasons for my sadness are twofold: a) I REALLY love The Legend of Hell House, and b) Julie Harris' narration of The Haunting makes me want to put drumsticks through my eardrums like a Spinal Tap drummer on a drum kit (before combustion).

The Moment That Changes Everything:

One thing I absolutely love about Hell House is that this house is a vile, foul-mouthed, and often perverse muddertrucka.  Perhaps the most intense example in the film is when the straight-laced wife of a scientist played by Gayle Hunnicutt gets a little bit possessed and starts ranting about sadistic sexual fantasies to the terrified Benjamin Franklin Fischer, portrayed be the always scare-able Roddy McDowell.  The intensity shown from the character is one of the clearest indicators in the film that this house is not playing Scooby Doo with its inhabitants.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

Well, The Haunting, obviously.  I know I was dogging on it earlier, but a double feature of these two films could basically be called The "Everything You Ever Need To Know About Old Dark Haunted House Movies" Double Feature.  So what if the voiceover makes me want to staple my ears to my cheeks and bring out the crazy glue, the rest of the movie is bloody perfect.

What It Means To Me:

I learned how much I love Richard Matheson from the movies - to be honest, I'm just now finally reading his novel Hell House for the first time(!) - and The Legend of Hell House represents exactly what I love about the writer.  There's a mixture of science and supernature, a balance between physical and mental struggles, and a heck of a lot of wonderfully drawn scenes that don't hold anything back.  To me, Hell House is a prototype for a lot of the things I want to see in any horror movie/story.

Midnight Movie of the Week #123 - Phantasm

I seriously don't get Phantasm.  I've seen Phantasm a bunch of times - like, 12 or 37 times, at least - and I swear that every time I watch it again for the past 15 plus years I've been like "Wait a minute, what in the name of Franklin Delano Roosevelt was THAT?" at least once.  (Sometimes I don't curse FDR, sometimes I say Amelia Earhart...depends on my mood.)  But what I do quickly realize whenever I take a gander at Phantasm, is that few films have ever mimicked an actual nightmare quite like this one does.

In a way, one could argue that much of Phantasm plays out as the nightmares of a slightly pathetic young boy named Mike (this post has been edited because I'm stupid sometimes, act casual) who looks and talks in a manner that isn't traditionally masculine.  His parents are dead, his brother might leave him behind, and he's certainly not cool enough to be popular at school - we can tell that even though we never see him in that setting.  About 87% of the film is about realizing just how helpless Mike is, by my estimate.

Normally a film about such a character would be difficult, but we get the sense early on that the world of Phantasm isn't quite right.  So many sequences throughout the film feel like nightmares that the characters might be having.  At the beginning, a beautiful woman kills her lover and then morphs into an old man/cryptkeeper.  Later, another sexual encounter adds a bit of voyeurism and some kind of critter that looks like one of those Star Wars Jawas. (Sorry, you will never get me to talk about Phantasm and NOT mention Jawas.)  But primarily, bad stuff starts happening to Mike, and most of it feels like something we can't be sure is dream or reality.

The thing we learn pretty quickly is that Mike is one of those kids who's a) got a heck of an imagination and b) doesn't seem content with the simple parts of life.  Heck, his bed is next to a giant wall sized photo of the view of Earth from the moon - how much more "out of this world" can a kid be?  But it doesn't mean that Mike's dreams are all ridiculous.  Some moments - like the one when we see Mike chasing his brother who is always just out of reach and mysteriously can't seem to hear Mike's effeminate shouting - are pretty realistic human nightmares that let us in to the kid's troubled mind.  These aren't exactly unconscious thoughts in his mind - he vocalizes to a fortune teller (his only counselor, I guess) that he fears his brother is planning to leave him behind, but the signs are clear: Mike doesn't know how to deal with his fears, and they're seeping into his dreams.

There's a catch in Phantasm, however.  Writer/Director Don Coscarelli never really lets the viewer in on the gag.  Very few scenes are really played straight up as straight out "dream" sequences, but so much of what we see doesn't seem possible in a real world.  And a lot of the events that happen don't tie in to later scenes, leaving the viewer - or maybe it's just me, but for the sake of my own sanity I'm going to assume this happens to other viewers - pretty confused as to what really did just happen.

When Coscarelli and the film are on top of their mysterious and dark game, the images on screen seem completely surreal.  Many scenes feature pitch black backdrops, showing only the things the director wants us to focus in on.  Other sequences, like a strange antique shop late in the film, seem to embrace clutter and try to obscure our vision.  Each change in perspective seems intentionally drawn - and is usually punctuated by one of my favorite horror movie musical scores ever - it just doesn't always make sense from a storytelling perspective.  Especially when it gets all intergalactic planetary. (Or is it planetary intergalactic?  RIP MCA.)

I could drive myself mad trying to put together the pieces of Phantasm - I haven't even mentioned the chilling performance from Angus Scrimm or the iconic-if-not-ridiculous "silver sphere"! - but I don't really want to.  There's enough here, from Mike's gender issues to the Jawas from Mars with Banana Pudding blood (Can I trademark that moniker? "Jawas From Mars with Banana Pudding Blood" would make a great rock band!), to make the sum of the parts one of the most interesting and incessantly watchable horror movies of all-time. If I could have nightmares that look like Phantasm, I'd be really friggin' proud of my nightmares.  Why should I try to bring little things like "making sense" into that equation?

 (One more thing, and it's a GIANT FREAKING SPOILER. So stop reading if you haven't seen Phantasm.  Seriously. Stop it!

OK....the ending of the movie.  You know how awesome it is when Angus Scrimm shouts BOOOOYYYY. But y'know what I really love? The sound effects right after that.  Mike goes through the mirror into dreamworld, and all we can hear is this crazy cacophony (I just had to say cacophony...it's a real word, and I love it.  It's used to describe that sound when a bunch of noises are fighting against each other, like jazz music or Oprah Winfrey eating a canned ham.) of noises that sound like a bunch of dogs and demons (I swear one of those sounds in there is straight outta The Exorcist.) fighting over the girly boy's bones.  I swear, it's one of the coolest sets of sound effects out there.  Check it out.)

 Sweet dreams, Midnight Warriors!

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #36 - Army of Darkness

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water

Army of Darkness

(1993, Dir. by Sam Raimi.)

Why It's Here:

Are you freakin' kidding me? Any list of any kind of movies that has to do with me has to include Army of Darkness.  It's pure, unadulterated, awesomeness.  It's pretty much the most fun movie to watch.  Ever.  I don't really have to explain Army of Darkness, at least not to myself.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

When that chainsaw gets tossed into that pit and Bruce Campbell leaps into the sky and everything clicks into place...well, that's when my soul really starts dancing.  Of course, there's about 97 moments in the short film that create the same feeling, but that's the first one that comes to my mind tonight.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

Well, there's two films that OBVIOUSLY go so well with this one - but I just might end up talking about them later in this list.  So, if we're gonna pair something else up with Army of Darkness, we're gonna need something funny, exciting, monstrous, and good looking.  Something like....Tremors.  Yeah.

What It Means To Me:

I think I've written about my evolving favoritism in regard to the Evil Dead series before, and how my appreciation of each film differs by the year.  (Yup, I have.) But Army of Darkness has always won me over as the most accessible film of the trilogy, the kind of flick I could put on even with my least horror-friendly friends and still get plenty of smiles and laughs.  It's gotten me through a lot of bad moments, too, and no amount of age and recognition of the film's lesser qualities will ever take that from me.

FMWL Indie Spotlight - It's in the Blood

(2012, Dir. by Scooter Downey.)

Over the past week or two, I've really struggled to make peace with It's in the Blood.  But I want to make one thing quite clear right now - that struggle is not, in any way, a bad thing.  I think.  I'm not really sure, but after two viewings and a large amount of thought, I'm relatively sure that it's not a bad thing.

One of the easiest things to do when you watch a ton of movies is to start comparing them to each other.  The Cabin in the Woods gets compared to Shaun of the Dead because they're both horror comedies, Friday the 13th gets compared to Halloween because they both have masks and knives and what not.  And when you're trying to gauge how effective a film is, your mind goes straight to whatever you can compare it to. It's no different than when you go shopping and compare prices/qualities of other products, really.

So why have I struggled so mightily with It's in the Blood? Because I couldn't think of anything I've ever seen that is quite like it.  Some of the themes and images are familiar, to be sure, but the way in which the whole film comes together is incredibly unique. 

We'll start with the easy stuff.  The film follows a son (played by writer/producer Sean Elliot) who returns to the country home of his father for a bit of wilderness adventure.  As the son and father head out into the woods, they run into things like dead dogs, strange visions, and ominous spirits - the kind of things we've naturally come to expect (and accept) from horror films.  His father is an old-fashioned, gruff, alcohol-swigging sheriff, played by none less than genre icon Lance Henriksen.  We know what we can get from Henriksen, the same powerful presence that was harnessed by films like Aliens and Pumpkinhead, and his performance in this film is up to snuff with the rest of his storied career. 

While the pieces of the film are common, the path that Elliot and co-writer/director Scooter Downey is one-of-a-kind.  The film's official website promotes the story as a "psyche-saga", and even provides a fancy definition of that term.  Now, I read that definition, and I even went and got a degree in psychology from a relatively credible university one time, and I'm STILL relatively confused to what that term means.  But I think I like it.

It's the mindset - or maybe I'm supposed to say psyche - of It's in the Blood that sets it apart from so many other horror films.  Elliot's character has a dramatic personal journey to make throughout the film, and his survival depends on his ability to stand up to his current predicament and the demons of his past.  This sounds like another cliche too, but the manner in which Downey and Elliot present the story is so well done.  There was a little bit of confusion early on, I must admit, but the story becomes much easier to follow as it rolls through different events and times.  You're going to have to think a bit - if that's not your cup of tea, there's a Nightmare on Elm Street sequel somewhere out there for you - but I think that makes the journey through It's in the Blood all the more worthwhile.

I've written a lot about this movie so far, and I feel like I could go on for days.  I haven't mentioned the fantastic special effects, I haven't mentioned the dynamics between Henriksen and Elliot, I haven't mentioned some cool and practical gore.  I haven't mentioned many of my quibbles with the movie either, like some of the monstery scenes near the end or a few changes in tone that don't quite flow evenly.  The trouble is, I'm still not done thinking about It's in the Blood and everything it offers the viewer. I'm not sure I love the movie yet, but I'm dang sure loving my experience with it.

More information about It's in the Blood, which is currently awaiting wide release, can be found at that official website or in a glowing review by FMWL's buddy Cortez over at Planet of Terror.  I think you should look into it, obviously, because I've already watched the movie twice and I'm still looking into it.  If you want a horror movie that asks you to think, It's in the Blood might be the unique horror movie for you.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #37 - Dark Water

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool

Dark Water

(2002, Dir. by Hideo Nakata.)

Why It's Here:

The "long-haired Japanese ghost" craze of the early 2000s took over the horror scene in the blink of an eye.  Films that made an impact in the Far East, like Ringu and Ju-On, became American remakes like The Ring and The Grudge before many Americans even knew their predecessors existed.  I gotta admit, I wasn't a big fan of several of these films due to their repetitive nature - sometimes it seems that if you've seen one creepy Asian woman with hair in her face, you've seen them all - but Dark Water (which would also be quickly remade into a Jennifer Connelly thriller) has always stood out to me thanks to a deep story, good acting, and a boatload of creepy images.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

First of all, since when can schools let kids play hide and seek? Is that just a Japan thing? Do I have to move to Japan now so my imaginary kids can play hide and go seek in school? I just may.

Now that that's said, Dark Water takes a game of hide and seek and makes it scary as heck, as the young girl that our story follows sees a ominous approacher from her secret location.  A rain coat and a wet child have never been more effective.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

I'm gonna pimp my other favorite Asian horror flick here, Kairo (aka Pulse), which was also horribly remade but stands alone as an incredible effective technohorror film.  It's horror on a much bigger scale - the final scenes are mind blowingly grand - and maybe I'm being racist by pairing it up with another Japanese horror flick (couldn't I have just said some American ghost/child/mother tale like The Others?), but oh well.  If you want the best modern horror that Japan has to offer, I say you go with Dark Water and Kairo.

What It Means To Me:

I was barely 20 when The Ring happened to America, and - thanks to this gosh darn internet thing that opens up possibilities that have no end - learning about the horrors of Japan was my first real foray into horror from other continents.  I saw a lot of decent J-horrors before I finally fell in love with Dark Water, but it inspired me to dig even deeper into horror from new sources and places.  That's kind of a big deal for a horror nerd like me.

The Avengers

(2012, Dir. by Joss Whedon.)

My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to convince you that you should see The Avengers.  It's one of the easiest missions I've ever had, and one of the most difficult missions I've ever accepted.  I'm sure most folks out there see ads for a movie that throws a bunch of super heroes who have won big screen acclaim into a blockbuster-building-blender and think something to the effect of "Well, duh, I'll see that." Those people have my eternal respect.  But there are some other folks out there who look at The Avengers and see a comic book cinema vending machine and think something like "Man, there can't be anything substantial in such a convoluted concept". I dig those folks too - the skeptic always has something good to say, no matter how crazy - but I aim to convince them that they are dead wrong.

I have to admit, I was almost one of them skeptics.  I adore comic book mythology to a fault, and have dug at least 87% of the Marvel adaptations to come down the pipeline in the past decade. (Even Daredevil. I regret nothing.)  But I was really unsure that The Avengers could hold the weight of Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, The Hulk, and friends without falling apart and slipping away from the filmmakers.  Really, the whole project needed its own hero. When cult icon Joss Whedon - the dude behind Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Firefly, and plenty of other nerdy favorites (Like The Cabin in the Woods, which is now my second favorite thing I've seen in theater this year) - took over the project, I should have put my doubts to bed.  But I had to see it to believe it.

Now that I have seen it, it is certain in my mind that Joss Whedon is the true hero of The Avengers.  His script, which is filled to the brim with scenes that are honestly hilarious, is also incredibly faithful to the heroes as they've appeared in the comics and films that led to this point.  I really didn't know how someone could make all these characters fit together in one place - you are mixing Asgardian demi-god with 1940s soldiers and billionaires with fancy toys, after all - and anyone with a passing knowledge of Avengers comics knows that personality clashes are par for the course with Earth's greatest heroes.  Whedon deftly handled each character with this in mind, using the differing personalities to create a lot of humorous interactions that build the characters while keeping the audience engaged in a lighthearted manner.  In a great way, Whedon even manages to turn some jokes, like a modern SHIELD agent's "fanboy" love of Captain America, into dramatic events that advance the plot.  And he does all this comedic styling - I honestly can't remember the last time I've laughed so much in a theater - while keeping the action going and making a 140 minute film fly by the viewer's eyes in a flash.

Whedon's masterful ability to bring a bunch of legendary heroes together in one film wouldn't work if the cast didn't meet or exceed the viewers expectations, and pretty much everyone in the film is on top of their game.  Robert Downey, Jr., Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and Scarlett Johansson all reprise the roles they held in Marvel's latest wave of superhero films (Iron Man 2, Thor, Captain America: the First Avenger), as does Jeremy Renner, who expands his Thor cameo as Clint Barton (Does the film ever actually call him Hawkeye? I don't think it did.) into a pivotal role in the plot here.  Samuel L. Jackson and Clark Gregg return on the SHIELD side, alongside newcomer Cobie Smulders of How I Met Your Mother, on the side of SHIELD, the agency who brings the group of heroes together.  Everyone is right back on track, picking up where they left off in the previous films, which means Downey chews up the scenery, Evans looks heroic, Hemsworth hams it up with a chiseled jaw, and so on.  But none of them are the most impressive returning cast member.

That honor has to go to Tom Hiddleston, who returns as Loki to play villain to not just his half-brother Thor - but to all six Avengers.  It's a gigantic task that worried me as I watched the film coming from a distance.  I wasn't that impressed by Hiddleston's Loki in Thor - the best thing I had to say about him in my Thor review was that he was "serviceable" - but his power-hungry turn as the man who may destroy Earth here is really fantastic.  The London born actor manages to be physically imposing, despite his diminutive stature, and it's pretty easy to buy into him as the God of Mischief (with a Zod complex) from his first appearance in the opening scenes.  He's aided by an alien force - make sure you stay through the end credits for more info, as is common for Marvel films - but the film doesn't feel like it needs anything more than this one well-drawn villain to make us feel like the world needs heroes.

The biggest winner in the film, however, is the hero who's played by a new face to the Marvel universe.  Dr. Bruce Banner and The Hulk - formerly represented by Eric Bana and Edward Norton and a bunch of CGI creations - are now represented by Mark Ruffalo (and some more CGI) and are better than we've ever seen them on the big screen.  Ruffalo plays the scientist Banner with a nerdy charm that's kinda pitiful, but kinda charming, and interacts very well with his peers, particularly in some science lab interactions with Downey's Tony Stark.  Though Ruffalo's banner is sufficiently nerdy - this is the closest anyone's been to recreating the beloved/pathetic Banner character that Bill Bixby portrayed on the famous TV show of the late '70s (I so wanted to hear the lonely man theme with Ruffalo's character) - it's his Hulk form that really steals the film.  Once "the other guy" is released in this universe there is no turning back, and a combination of breathtaking choreography and fantastic special effects make this Hulk the best visualization of the character that's ever been seen.  Though the film's final battle sequence showcases all of these heroes, everything really boils down to Hulk smashing things - and he does so in an incredible manner.  This is his movie, the rest of our heroes are just living in it.  (Also living in it, and making my nerd face smile? Harry Dean Stanton.  You'll see why.)

With very few missteps - I wanted a little more Thor because I didn't feel he was used as well as he was in his own film, that's about the only quibble I had with the film - and so much humor and action and so many general awe-inspiring moments, I can't complain at all about The Avengers.  Heck, I want to see it again right now.  It's the prototype for what a summer blockbuster should be, because it's written for nerds by nerds and is still incredibly accessible to any filmgoer.  Heck, this is more than what summer movies should be....this is what movies should be.  Don't miss it.

Midnight Movie of the Week #122 - The Dead Zone

If you were to ever walk on up to central Iowa and find The Mike's Lair and be like "Hey, The Mike, I was wonderin' who you think the scariest on screen villains ever are", you'd probably hear me mention Greg Stillson.  It's a name that gets little publicity in the horror scene - though there are some smartsy, politically knowledged types who throw the example out whenever important elections come up - but it's one that has chilled me for a long, long time.

 Greg Stillson, who we'll get to in a minute, is just one of the things to love about The Dead Zone.  Whether you prefer books (it's definitely one of my very favorites from Stephen King), TV shows (some give it a bad name, and sometimes it deserved it, but I dig the Anthony Michael Hall led USA Series), or movies (the 1983 adaptation by David Cronenberg that I hope to focus on here) - there's a dose of Dead Zone for just about everyone who loves a bit of telekinesis or "second sight" or whatever you want to call the powers of someone who touches people and sees into their life.

Christopher Walken - only a few years removed from his Oscar win for The Deer Hunter and still looking rather young - stars as Johnny Smith, the ill-fated teacher who enters a coma as a simple young man and wakes up five years later with the power to see.  This power - which allows him to see important/tragic events in peoples' lives - could go a lot of ways (Walken himself famously spoofed the role on an episode of Saturday Night Live), but the film narrows them down to three key points.  These days, you get the feeling a trilogy would be made out of this material - as the TV series showed, there's plenty that could be done with the character - but this film does a more than adequate job of following King's novel and wedging Johnny's story into 103 minutes.

It would be easy for the film - directed by generally abstract filmmaker David Cronenberg - to have gone off on tangents and radically altered King's story.  It worked so well for The Shining, so why not let Cronenberg explode some heads or turn non-vaginal body parts into vaginas?  I have to wonder - did Cronenberg have full control over the movie? Was the studio watching over his shoulder? Or did he really like King's story that much that he didn't want to mess with it?  Whatever the answer is, I'm pretty glad that he - for the most part - stayed true to the novel.  Anyone who watched all six seasons of the TV show - I can't be the only one, can I? - knows that that thing dragged out the most interesting part of the story and never really found closure.

 The most interesting part of the story, as I hinted earlier, is Greg Stillson.  Though Johnny's first encounters with his powers and his time assisting a local sheriff (Tom Skerrit!) with a murder investigation are interesting enough, there are few characters in horror that provoke the same philosophical dilemma that Greg Stillson does.  When we see what Johnny sees - a real world terror the likes of which man has (thankfully) only imagined - Greg Stillson immediately becomes one of the most dangerous men in horror.

Played with a ton of sleaze by Martin Sheen - who seems to partially channeling his future Mass Effect 2 & 3 character and partially mimicking his son Charlie's future crazy eyes - Greg Stillson represents a man who might tear the world apart.  And he's not a dude who might tear the world apart because he's a monster or because he's a physical terror or because he's supernaturally affected. We don't really get a full "why" Greg Stillson might tear the world apart in this movie - the book and show each do more to establish Stillson's mental issues and lust for power/control - but when we see Johnny's vision of Stillson's future there's no questioning that he's more than a bit mad.

With a series of interesting segments (featuring killers, children, politics, and more) and a powerful lead performance by Walken, The Dead Zone is always an interesting story.  It's not the most ambitious story that Cronenberg or King ever put together, but it manages to inspire a lot of thought without diving too far into "crazy about science" territory.  I suppose reading the book would be a bit more rewarding than watching the film - DON'T TELL ANYONE I JUST SAID THAT - but if you're in a pinch for time you'll surely enjoy The Dead Zone as an intelligent and well-made '80s horror film.