The Return of Captain Invincible - Midnight Movie of the Week? FAIL.

(Note from The Mike: I intended for this movie to be my Midnight Movie of the Week. But, I watched the movie again and I find that...I don't really want to recommend it anymore. So, here's a few words and a video to tide you over until I can put together a Midnight Movie of the Week post that I'm comfortable putting the FMWL stamp of approval on. Happy viewings!)Between making his "my mother was raped by a forest beast and now puberty's bringing it out in me" epic The Beast Within and the unforgettably horrible "Werewolves have bispeciesal orgies?" sequel Howling II: Stirba - Werewolf Bitch, French-born director Phillipe Mora made one of the oddest musicals ever made. That film is The Return of Captain Invincible, which balances incredible goofiness with maddening stupidity, all while starring Alan Arkin as the down-and-out superhero due for a revival. I've known this wasn't a necessarily good movie for some time, but I don't think I realized until tonight just how incredibly awkward and borderline terrible Mora's musical adventure is.

To simplify the plot, Captain Invincible's story begins the same way The Incredibles would begin years later...with newsreel footage of the the hero's greatness and then the legal reasons behind his unfortunate demise. It seems Captain Invincible is now a drunk, living on the streets of Sydney, Australia (like the fellows behind Superman Returns, Mora knew it was far too expensive to shoot in New York, which is shown in stock footage when necessary), until a female police officer realizes his identity at the same time The President - who's just finished singing a song in which all the words are "bullshit" to his advisers - comes to ask him for one last favor. Invincible must now get sober and get his powers back, because there's evil out there that needs stopped.

That evil is presented in the form of Mr. Midnight, played by FMWL Hall-of-Fame Member Christopher Lee. Lee is pretty much the only good reason to watch this movie, aside from a couple of interesting musical numbers written by Riff-Raff himself, Richard O'Brien. I guess I should give a small bit of credit to Arkin, who does a fine job with what's offered to him. He spends most of the film on-screen with an incredibly uninteresting Aussie actress named Kate Fitzpatrick, whose blandness does the film no favors, especially considering she has no comic timing.

The Return of Captain Invincible tries really hard to be likeable. It does have a room full of killer vacuum cleaners, a gun made out of a giant plastic fish, midget dunking, and a lot of blouses being randomly ripped open. But it's poorly edited, lacks any interesting characters or performers, and just feels tedious at times.

But then again, THIS HAPPENS:



So yeah. Christopher Lee singing = awesomeness. That's really all I need to say. The world does need a shining hero, but this is completely not that hero. :(

Defendor

2009, Dir. by Peter Stebbings.

Superhero movies have always been a safe haven for me, from both entertainment and psychological standpoints. As a young adult, I always felt the urge to do something positive for society, to help resist the forces that often cause trouble for all of us. These movies have, when not poorly made, offered up a reminder of the power that action can have in our society, and reminded me of the strength that lies in positive intentions. Luckily for me, I'm (mostly) sane and know the difference between fiction and reality, and thus left the fight to others while choosing a profession that keeps me involved with those in need in a safe environment. If I weren't (mostly) sane, I might have ended up like Defendor.

Despite a funky trailer that seemed to promise Woody Harrelson would continue his tough guy antics from Zombieland, one needs to be cautioned before going in search of Defendor. This is not a goofy action/comedy, and in fact it's a film that left me wondering if I should even review it here. (But, for your sake, I am. Because I'm awesome.)

Instead of offering a comic action plot, Defendor plays like an independent character study, introducing us to Arthur Poppington, a hero who answers to his own calling. Instead of that, I could say that he's a hero who's highly delusional and probably a hero that most people wouldn't feel comfortable having on their streets.

But lets roll with the first explanation, for the sake of not turning Defendor into a terribly sad story. Arthur/Defendor is a man who was raised by a prostitute (until she died from a drug overdose), never knew his father, and only received a bit of parenting from an aging shopkeeper and the pages of comic books. Now, he's a middle aged man (how he lasted that long is a mystery to me), and has only a couple friends - his boss (Michael Kelly) and a young prostitute (Kat Dennings). All he remembers from his youth is that "Captain Industry" is responsible for his mother's demise, and he's determined to clean up the city that took her from him.

There's a romantic and tragic feeling that emanates from the core of Defendor, which is slowly paced by first-time director Peter Stebbings with a focus on developing Arthur as a sympathetic individual. For the most part the film succeeds at this, thanks to Harrelson's ability to play the role with a straight face and some strong cross-cutting between scenes of Defendor in action and scenes where he's being interviewed by a psychologist played by Sandra Oh. We know by the midpoint of the film that Defendor is not the iconic hero we're used to, as he struggles to deal with his equipment often and fares as poorly in battle as is humanly possible.

Defendor struggles through the final act, as we continue to see the man beaten down to a point that it becomes near painful to the viewer. The final impression left by the film keeps with the rest of the film's tone, and there are few heroic moments that would lift one's spirit in regard to Defendor's heroic quest.

I quite admire Defendor as a film. It's content with marching to its own beat, telling its own story, and creating a world that's emotionally captivating with a real-life character. It most definitely is not the film advertised, and I'm sure many looking for a cheap laugh will be sorely disappointed by the dark tone of the film. While I do recommend Defendor as the first superhero film I've seen that feels like an independent drama (at its best, it's Kick-Ass meets Marnie), beware that you're not going to get what the previews sell you.

As for me, I'm gonna go back to embracing my safe role as a helper of others, and remember Defendor as a cautionary tale about good intentions that come from bad mindsets.

Midnight Top Five - The "She Blinded Me With Science Fiction" Edition

First of all, yes. I did conceive this post solely based on my desire to write that title. Sorry. (And if you don't know the title's significance, listen to this stuff, because the '80s rule.)

So, the newest Midnight Top Five focuses on five fine women who've blinded me with their beauty in science fiction films and television. Did I intentionally avoid easy choices like Princess Leia, anything Milla Jovovich has done, and Barbarella? A little bit. But these five make my blood boil in any century of any alternate universe on any planet. Alta (played by Anne Francis) in Forbidden Planet - Sure, "Why don't you kiss me, like everyone else does?" might not be the best pick-up line, but Alta's naive purity just reeks of charm. It's slightly creepy that her father keeps her around in dresses that could double as t-shirts, too, but she's cute enough that even a straight-faced Leslie Nielsen gets flustered. Plus having her around might bring Robby the Robot, too. (Now that's what I call friends with benefits!)Calamity Jane (played by Mary Woronov) in Death Race 2000 - It's a close race (har har!) between her and Roberta Collins' Matilda the Hun in the battle for this film's crown of hotness, but I'll take a cowgirl over a Nazi any day. Woronov brings a unique beauty to the film, and she's got a mean streak to match it. Just don't try to score her navigator and get away with it!Edith "E." Johnson (played by Melanie Griffith) in Cherry 2000 - It turns out the year 2000 was full of vicious ladies, and here we get a redheaded bounty hunter who's collected on The Mike's heart. She's redheaded, she's good with a car or a weapon, and she doesn't get lost easily. And did I mention she's a redhead?Kaylee Frye (played by Jewel Staite) in Firefly/Serenity - I don't know what I can say about Kaylee. I mean, have you seen her? She's the cutest thing EVAAAAAAAARRRRR! She's a mechanic, which is hot, but she's also the sweetest thing of, like, ever. Seriously. She turns me into a droolbot, that's how cute she is.Princess Ardala (played by Pamela Hensley) in Buck Rogers in the 25th Century - I know, I know. I should pick Colonel Wilma Deering, who's virtuous, loyal, and dependable - all while looking like a grown-up Kristen Bell - but....dammit, Princess Ardala is the definition of temptress. If I picked her over Wilma, would I end up an emasculated brute servant whose only function is to please her when needed? Probably. But dammit...she's hot.

Got your own sci-fi loves you wanna share? Hit up the comments below. Until next time, here's a tribute to the everlasting battle between Wilma and Ardala that goes out to these five fine foxes. If any of y'all ever enter this reality, call me!

(BTW, Does it seem to anyone else that I'm saying I only like women who are invalids, or women who have fast cars and/or guns and/or who could destroy me? My bad.)

Nerdy Post Alert! My Personal Midnight Treasures

I don't really feel like writing much today, but I wanted to post something anyway. Thus, I thought I'd use today to show off some cool stuff, particularly some of my favorite items from my DVD collection and from among the few VHS items I still own. You can click on any item to see a larger version and the dust on my coffee table.First, my ridiculously silly collection of the Halloween series that I love far too dearly (backlit by some gamma radiation via The Incredible Hulk). On the left is the Widescreen VHS from which I first saw what is now my favorite horror film (in fact, I've never seen the film cut for P&S). Then, you'll notice that I have not only a silly FOUR copies of the original film including DVD and Blu-Ray, including the transfer raped 25th Anniversary Edition and the "Extended Edition" which includes 15 minutes filmed by Carpenter during the making of Halloween II (This was also the point when Carpenter retconned the "sister" subplot back into the first film, though it was never intended for it originally).

After that, you'll notice that I also have two copies of each Halloween II-Halloween 4, each because the initial DVDs featured less than stellar transfers. I could have updated to a better version of Halloween 5, too, but thankfully Tina Williams saved me some money there. Oh, and there's a gap after Rob Zombie's awful Halloween where Rob Zombie's Halloween II was supposed to go....alas, I'm not crazy enough to buy that turd. Yet.Then we've got some VHS goodies, starting with C.H.U.D (which is on a fine DVD, so isn't the biggest deal) and C.H.U.D II (which has never seen the light of day on DVD). The latter is certainly one of the worst horror sequels out there, while the original is a shockingly serious horror flick that I'm sure I'll write on soon. With them is my prized copy of the Hulk Hogan pro-wrestling flick No Holds Barred, a movie which has a huge place in my childhood but also has never hit DVD.Rolling with the VHS love, here's my copy of Happy Birthday to Me as originally released in 1981 which I found in my former next door Hastings store on my first visit there. Happy Birthday to Me is not only a slasher I find fabulously entertaining, but was listed as one of the popular movies in theater on the day I was born by one of those "Day You Were Born" things that my parents hung by my room all my life. Was it fate?

The copy of Creature from the Black Lagoon shown is the one I refer to in my bio above, that was one of the first VHS horrors my parents ever got me while I was in second grade (my copy of The Blob from the same time period is still around somewhere, too). With it is another vid that's been in the family a long, long time - Godzilla vs. Megalon, featuring my family's favorite size-changing robot controlled by a boy who's too old to be wearing that diaper, JET JAGUAR!Next we have what is surely the prize VHS to me, an original copy of Clownhouse. If you don't know the story of Clownhouse, 29-year-old director Victor Salva was convicted of molesting the film's 12-year-old star, Nathan Forrest Winters, and the film has not been distributed since this VHS was released in 1990. (On the flipside, Salva was convicted to three years in prison, only served 15 months, and was directing films for Disney by 1995. Up yours, American justice system!)

Legal and sexual hijinks aside, my sister and I watched this movie darn near weekly growing up, renting this copy from the late Freedom Video in Marshalltown, IA so many times that my mother begged and pleaded that the store just sell us the video. It wasn't until that store closed in the year 2000 (IN THE YEAR TWO THOUSAAAAAANNNNNNNDDDD!) when my fabulous mother rushed into the store and snatched up the copy as soon as the closeout sale began, that this one FINALLY hit my collection.

(MGM produced a DVD of the film in 2002, but it was never released. My sister and I may each have copies of it that we acquired via eBay....)Lastly, here's the DVD set to rule them all. A Christmas gift that my parents acquired while Universal's Monster films were out of print (you'll notice that the titles on the coffin lid/cover are in Portuguese) this 8 film set of the iconic classics is the set most responsible for the horror-lovin' The Mike that you read today. Revisiting these films on DVD after not seeing them since I was a very young tyke has been a revolution for me as a filmgoer. Even now, while new DVDs of these films are all over the place, this coffin shaped box never leaves my apartment without me, and is truly the crown jewel of my collection.That's all I've got for today, but please feel free to list some of your favorite genre finds in the comments. I loves my horror goodies almost as much as I love the people who gave them to me.

Are Blain and Mac from Predator Gay? (Spoilers Within)

For starters, I feel obliged to state that this post is written with the utmost respect to people of all races, creeds, sexual-orientations, genders, and planets. (Except for John Elway - Up yours John Elway!) I do not intend, through my pondering here, to pass judgment on any lifestyle, we're all equal in my book. Although, I do enjoy ladies, so if you're reading this ladies...Hi there.

If you're like me, you've seen Predator a few dozen times in your life. And if you're not, you should see it a few dozen times anyway. It's the perfect fusion of action and sci-fi, a muscle-bound cousin to John Carpenter's The Thing that mixes the appeal of Schwarzenegger with top notch effects, an adrenaline-pumping musical score, and a truly original monster. It also features a cast of incredibly macho characters, toplined by Carl Freaking Weathers, WWF Star and future politician Jesse 'The Body' Ventura, and Arnie's Commando co-star Bill Duke. But the more I've watched it, the more I've come to question the characters played by the Ventura and Duke, and their relationship within the movie.

We're introduced, briefly, to Mac and Blain, played respectively by Duke and Ventura, as soon as the helicopter transporting Schwarzenegger's team of "half-assed mountain boys" opens its doors the first time. Blain is Mr. Casual, with his blue jeans and MTV T-Shirt, while Mac is fully suited up. The two don't seem to have much of a connection, even in their next scene, where the helicopter is heading toward the team's final destination. Mac and Blain sit as far apart as possible, but always seem to be in the same shot through the camera's eyes. In this scene Blain makes a famous comment about being "a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus", and after another team member makes a joke about Blain's comment, the camera shifts to Mac - who's quietly paying attention despite his distance from the conversation. The only interaction between the duo in these early scenes comes when Blain offers Mac some of his chewing tobacco, then smiles coyly after Mac refuses.

Despite being known as one of the "manliest" movies ever made, many have commented on the homosexual undertones of Predator. It is, after all, a movie about a bunch of sleeveless, sweaty dudes with big muscles in a jungle who often like to armwrestle mid air. But I've never really found anyone, shy of a few snickering imbeciles (for the record, I also am not opposed to snickering imbeciles, and occasionally embrace that same role), who has really looked at the blatant insistence in Jim and John Thomas' script that Mac and Blain are the most deeply connected members of the unit. It probably was youthful immaturity that led me to first think it, but I became convinced somewhere amidst my viewings of Predator that Blain and Mac just might be in a homosexual relationship.Some of it lies in the obvious stuff, like the extremely phallic image of Ventura's Blain turning himself into a human turret during the film's siege scene or the moment after Blain's unfortunate demise when Schwarzenegger's Dutch consoles Mac, who can't look him in the face while saying "He was...uh...my friend". Now we all know that men aren't supposed to show emotion or have close relationships with others, at least according to movies, so it's easy to assume that Mac's extremely emotional response is coming from a deep, personal relationship with Blain. Sure, Blain makes a derogatory comment about homosexuals early in the film, but that's a common defense mechanism.

Mac is also a distant character from his peers for most of the film, quietly shaving on the flight and saying few words to anyone. He has a couple of run-ins with Weathers' character, who represents the military authority, and at one point threatens to "bleed" the character secretly and leave him dead. This resistance to authority is obviously a sign that Mac thinks the character is a threat to him. While he does vocalize that he fears Weathers' Dillon is "ghosting" the team, maybe there's a deeper issue for Mac. Don't Ask, Don't Tell, perhaps?

We also get Mac's teary reaction to Blain's death, both by him taking a drink in tears before leaving a beaten flask that must have had some sentimental value on his friend's mutilated body. Later he does exclaim, only to god and the heavens, about how it was "just you and me, nobody else" when reminiscing about his time with Blain. This scene, in the past, had been the one that most led me to believe my hypothesis: That Mac and Blain were secret lovers. Watching the movie again today, with this theory as my prime point of reference....I'm not as convinced as I once was.As I alluded to above, movies like Predator train us to think that "real" men are big and tough and don't do anything but be awesome and tell jokes. As a teen, it was easy for me to think about what was going on with Mac and safely think "Dude, those dudes must have been gay!" because of the emotion shown. The movie does take baby steps to prove that theory wrong, as Mac refers to Blain, post-mortem, as "bro"...not exactly a term of romantic affection. But it was Mac's deep emotional reaction that really took center stage, and it's the kind of reaction that movies generally hold for romantic relationships.

Maybe there is a hidden romance in Predator. I had planned this post as a confirmation, sure I would find the hidden key to my theory while watching the movie again, but instead I see it simply as a question that could be asked but doesn't appear to have tangible evidence in its favor. The fact that those smirking imbeciles, like myself have at least made the comments about it says just as much about the ideals movies try to impart among us in society as it does about the characters' sexuality. For me, my look back into Predator still leaves me feeling like there might have been more to Mac and Blain's relationship. But it also makes me think more about the stereotypes that have been set forth for our youth - and as someone who works with teenagers today, I know they're still out there.Feel free to weigh in with your views on Predator's secret relationship in the comments below. Heck, one could make the case that the entire film is about gay characters who're being hunted by a monster whose face is a vagina with teeth...but that's a different story for a different day.

THIS. JUST. HAPPENED.

Real post later, I just wanted to take a moment to point out the fact that THIS movie exists.

From the studio behind Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus and Mega Piranha.

You're darn right I bought it.

Midnight Movie of the Week #14 - Spider Baby or, The Maddest Story Ever Told

It's no secret that the horror icons from Universal's monster films of the "golden era", did not ride off into the sunset with their heads held high after the studio's reign of terror ended. Most know that Karloff stayed busy in TV and drive-in movies (including occasional masterpieces like Targets), and more probably know about Bela Lugosi's spiral down into failed improv-TV pieces, Ed Wood films, and drug addiction. But few focus on the career path of Lon Chaney, Jr., who played second fiddle to both of these men AND his renowned father. Chaney suffered from typecasting despite strong work in Hollywood hits like Of Mice and Men and High Noon and, as I learned while researching today's film, slipped into alcoholism in the later years of his life. Like Lugosi, he hit a low when he showed up on a 1952 live TV broadcast of Frankenstein drunk.

You might think a drunk Frankenstein could work, but it won't if that Frankenstein thinks it's a rehearsal and mutters "break later" while leaving each piece of furniture he's supposed to smash intact. (In fairness, who wants to watch a version of Frankenstein that's all furniture smashing anyway?) But fear not - Chaney, if only for the better part of twelve days, found something that inspired him to stay sober in 1964 - Jack Hill's script Cannibal Orgy, or The Maddest Story Ever Told (Yeah, I didn't expect that title to hold either...we now have Spider Baby or, The Maddest Story Ever Told).

Spider Baby is, in the simplest terms, one of the most original horror films I've ever found. The story focuses on the Merrye family and their "rare and peculiar" brain syndrome, which causes the deterioration of the brain as an individual ages. Chaney plays Bruno, the guardian of the Merrye estate and their three surviving children, who are definitely among the maddest characters ever known. There's Virginia, the spider-obsessed dark haired daughter who starts the murderous action in the film's opening scene; Elizabeth, the blond haired daughter who spouts verbal abuse while hiding behind a pouty face; and Ralph, a bald and drooling invalid played by resurrected horror star Sid Haig.Playing like a haunted house film with real-life haunters, Spider Baby picks up steam when a few visitors show up at the Merrye house. They include a pair of distant relatives (soap-opera star Quinn Redeker and House on Haunted Hill veteran Carol Ohmart) and a pair of nosy social workers (one of whom is Panic in the Year Zero's Mary Mitchel). The Merrye family's "secrets" simply must not get out, and Bruno begins to have more and more difficulty controlling the children as the night goes on.

Chaney is the star, but the rest of the cast is also fantastic. Beverly Washburn and Jill Banner are the Merrye daughters and, at 20 and 17 years old, are both able to harness their youthful exuberance into a fantastic bit of insanity. Redeker hams it up brilliantly (to this day he still hates his performance; but I find it to be the definition of unintentional comedy) and Ohmart willingly flaunts her bosom while playing the sexual target for Haig's goofy manchild. It's a good thing.

But Spider Baby is Chaney's barbecue, and it tastes good. The veteran plays off the young cast perfectly, pleading with the children with vigor as his character's resolve slowly fades away. Like his best performances in Of Mice and Men and The Wolf Man he's a physical presence, using facial expressions to advance the story and create a connection to the viewer. Near the end of the second act he provides a knockout monologue that proves he was a better actor than he had ever been given credit for, and I still remember nearly choking up in tears the first time I saw him deliver this incredibly heartfelt speech. As if the scene isn't sad enough, Hill speaks in the DVD commentary about the fact that Chaney, due to his health and the film's distribution issues, never got a chance to see the completed film that he cared about so much.I can't say anything more about Spider Baby without getting all gushy, so I'm going to keep my final statement short: See Spider Baby. To me it is without a doubt one of the most original, entertaining, and impressive B-movies ever filmed. And when you consider Chaney's path back to horror stardome, plus the path to distribution and the rescue from a slew of bad VHS copies (Hill goes into great detail as to the film's distribution woes during the commentary), I'd say the restored version of Spider Baby should be one of the treasures of any classic horror fan's collection. For me it's definitely more than just another Midnight Movie of the Week.

(Big props to Stacie @ Final Girl for choosing this as this month's Final Girl Film Club pick. Head over there on the April 12th to check out more reviews of a true classic!)

State of the Midnight Address: Vol. 2 - The Horror Community, Goals, and Lists of Buckets of Blood

The above image, found through a simple Google Images search of the word "horror", is one of the internet's newly popular "demotivators" - jokes designed by the most cynical and sarcastic minds out there. It comes from a site named "101 Reasons to Stop Writing", which appears to be aimed at writers of fiction. However, ask any horror blogger if they've ever come to a point where they've considered shutting their cyberdoors, and most of the time they're quick to recall moments of despair. Last time I did one of these posts, I shared how I stopped writing due to frustrations in early 2009, and I've heard many other bloggers, even some of the most respected bloggers I know, share similar stories. It's a fact of life for those of us who're trying to share our passion, and I personally have had enough of people trying to rain on our parade.

When I started writing, I never intended to be part of the horror blogging community. For starters, I didn't plan to write primarily on horror (though I was sure I'd skew that way). But I also, to be honest, really had no idea there was such an active horror blogging community out there. I've always took pride in my independence as a fan of cinema, and when I started writing this site my goal was simply to throw my opinions out into the abyss and see what happened. It was soon after that I realized - what I was saying didn't matter. This wasn't because I was wrong, or because I was bad at what I was doing (though I'm sure some found it that way, but hey, that's their opinion). It was because I wasn't connected to anything. I had about five readers who checked in once in a while, and I had NO clue where I could go with this blog - let alone where I wanted to go.

After months of inactivity with my focus on other venues, a moment came last fall when I suddenly was looking at my free time in a fresh light. And when I started to ponder what I really wanted to be doing with my time, writing and talking about the movies I loved was the best thing I could think of. Thankfully, I had made a few acquaintances that opened the door to the horror fan world for me...and things escalated quickly. Through the people I've met in the horror blogging community, and despite the drama that occasionally sidetracks them, I've been reminded of how much I really love sharing my thoughts with others.

To anyone out there who's trying to get a similar feeling, I urge you to find a way to get involved in the horror community. It's a huge heap of folks, and there are always some people you simply won't mesh with, but we're the only thing that can keep each other relevant. Through the people I've read from and conversed with I've acquired countless ideas for my blog, formed new opinions on old favorites, and found new favorites I may never have come across. Each of us have our own set of goals, but we need to realize that a little help from a like-minded soul is never a bad thing. Personally, I'm more than willing to offer any help to someone who's seeking it, because, like Cat Stevens said, "baby, baby, it's a wild web -and it's hard to get by just upon a smile."

That said, a recent trend in the blogosphere has been the creating of a "Blood Bucket List" (see these folks for details). From my understanding, it's a list of things you hope to accomplish before your blog shrivels up and you become an accountant. Since I've been talking about my goals at FMWL, I'm gonna offer up a few short (since I've already spouted five paragraphs of drivel) items that would be on my list, the first of which I've already covered - I'd like to help members of the horror community support their peers' goals (while staying true to my lone-wolfish ideals). After that, I've got the following things on my list.1) I want to attend Blobfest in Phoenixville, PA. If you've been around this blog much, you know how I feel about Blobs (I'm for them). The original The Blob was one of my first horror loves, and I want to visit the town and theater it was filmed in and see the film on the big screen while experiencing Blobamania. I had planned to go this summer, but I'm not sure I'm going to be financially able to pull it off. Regardless, I'll be there someday.
2) I want to host something. Or at least, do a commentary or two. I would love, love, love the opportunity to be able to present a movie I really love. Quite honestly, that's what my primary focus is here, especially with my Midnight Movie of the Week series. I want to shout from the mountains and let everyone know that I LOVE THIS MOVIE AND I WANT TO SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL! And while writing is a blast, I'd love to do it through spoken word too.
3) I want to write a book detailing everything I've ever thought about Halloween....and its sequels/remakes. I love John Carpenter's Halloween more than I love most anything. I've gone off on tangents about it at random times in random places for random reasons, and someday I want to put all my ramblings together in one coherent place. And yes, I'd cover the rest of the series, from the first moment of doom (the sister subplot being introduced in the sequel) to Rob Zombie's urinal cake-ish remakes.4) I want to be viewed as someone whose opinion on these films is valid....even if I do overuse '80s slang and run-on-sentences and parentheses. I don't care if people agree with me, I'll be the first to admit that I ramble and occasionally entirely miss the point of a movie, or that I simply don't find a movie gripping for stupid reasons at times. And yeah, I'm gonna say totally and awesome a lot. But I want people to be able to look through my convoluted words and respect that I am someone who deeply cares about what I'm doing and strives to improve their output one day at a time. Because if I didn't believe I could do it, I wouldn't be doing it.

That's it. Until next time, my fellow midnight explorers, I urge you all to hold strong to your beliefs and goals, and don't stop searching for the things you'd like to cross off your Blood Bucket List. Peace, I'm outta here.

The Commune

2009, Dir. by Elisabeth Fies.

Back in 1996, I was a teenager obsessed with learning everything I could about cinema. It was the year when The Mike, though he wouldn't be named such until his college days, was truly born. It was also billed as the year of independent cinema, when 4 of the 5 Oscar best picture nominees were "independent" films. Those independent films were made by directors named Coen, Leigh, Minghella, and Hicks. In the meantime, directors named Wachowski, Liman, Boyle, and Anderson (times two) were making indie flicks that were putting their names on the map. With all due respect to those filmmakers, each of whom have gone on to bigger things, the definition of "independent" when it comes to cinema has changed dramatically since then.

Nowadays, thanks to factors varying from our hallowed internet movie news sources to the Netflix craze and the invent of streaming video, it's become a thrill to find truly independent films. These are the films that wouldn't have found their way to viewers years ago, even in the "indie" friendly scene of 1996. One such film is Elisabeth Fies' self-proclaimed "New Cult Classic" The Commune, which has recently taken the horror blog world by storm - forcing The Mike to investigate.

For starters, the psycho-spiritual brand of horror from the late '60s and early '70s has always been my personal favorite brand of horror, so I was more than pleased to find that The Commune offers an inspired variation of the paranoia that I'd expect from a horror classic. The film follows Jenny (Chauntal Lewis), the 16-year-old child of divorced parents, who's forced to join her father for some time at his creepy naturalist commune. Once she arrives she immediately begins to have psychotropic dreams and acquires weird gifts while she sleeps, which doesn't seem to concern her father or the matriarch of this autumnal community, Rhea, who's played with vigor by veteran actress Adrian Lee.

In the meantime, Jenny does what most girls her age do in horror movies - looks for ways to establish her independence and for boys who catch her fancy. She finds the latter in small-town bad boy Puck, an aspiring musician with a mini goatee and a guitar who just happens to have a song on tap that he can make about a girl named Jenny. (Hey Pucker, Tommy Tutone beat you to the punch.) Like any good survivor girl, Jenny works hard to maintain her purity - both from the adolescent rocker and from her father's overbearing expectations. (No fries? REALLY?)

The Commune does a good job of establishing both Jenny and the environment she's trapped in during its first hour, with plenty of hints like little-girls drawing phallic objects or defaced photos in convenient file cabinets that remind horror fans of films gone by and keep the tension rising. But the fear of the unknown peaks in both Jenny and the viewer as we reach the final 30 minutes, when sexual and religious tensions finally hit their peak.

In its final reel, The Commune cements itself as a fanatical tale of horror that reminds of The Wicker Man or Rosemary's Baby. Fies' camera provides a point blank look at the shocking events of the final scenes, and by framing the events in this manner the viewer is forced to gaze directly into the film's terrifying reality. After being shown part of Jenny's fate in the opening moments of the film, seeing the events that led to her condition made me sick to my stomach as I struggled to wrap my head around the magnitude of the characters' evil actions.

The Commune took its time in grabbing my attention, and I almost gave up the hope that I'd found the effective "cult" flick I'd been primed for via the reviews I'd found. Unlike last year's The House of the Devil (which the DVD case compares this film to), the buildup didn't grip me entirely, and a few moments seemed to drag - particularly those involving the young lover, Puck. That character, played by David Lago, was an enigma to me throughout the film, but I think the fault there lies more in my attempts to "read" the film with my horror fan eyes before i would let it unfold. The character serves as a parallel to the communal group Jenny is trapped with, but his intentions became a point of contention in my mind throughout the film.

Disregarding a few quibbles with pacing, I've got nothing but respect for the work done on The Commune. The film honestly feels like it belongs on a drive-in double-bill with The Wicker Man or The Mephisto Waltz, and I'm not gonna complain about anything I can place alongside the 1970s' religion-based horrors. I wish the best to everyone involved with The Commune, as they've produced a mind-bending exploration of the horrors associated with alternate lifestyles and beliefs. I've little doubt Ms. Fies' film will inflict welcome discomfort on any viewer looking for a practical chiller.

If you'd like to view (or visit, muahahahaha!) The Commune, check out the official site for a trailer and viewing links!

FMWL's Opening Day Celebration - A Tribute to Juan Primo

As a young The Mike, one of my deepest loves was baseball. Maybe that love never hit the level of my love for football, in which my Dad and I share our deepest bond as Packers fans, but there was always a peaceful, easy feeling when baseball season rolled around. Maybe it was the fact that summers were more meaningful then, or maybe it was the five years I spent in our high school team's dugout as stastician/P.A. announcer (yes, I was a nerd), but the game of baseball itself has always been a stress reliever for me (which is definitely the opposite of what my passion for football provides). Thus, baseball movies have always had a soft spot in my heart. While I'd never consider most of them as anything I'd ever mention on this blog, there's one movie that sticks out in my memory as a seedy blast - Tony Scott's 1996 thriller The Fan.

I'm not at all a fan of the term "guilty pleasure" when it comes to cinema, because I've never subscribed to the ideal that there's a tangible difference between "good" and "bad" movies. But if there was ever a movie I'd apply that term to, it's The Fan. Something inside me tells me it's a stupid movie with stupid characters, overacting stars, and little technical intrigue - but I can't help loving the ridiculous nature of it all. It's got DeNiro in psycho-mode, a soundtrack packed with Rolling Stones tunes (plus NIN's Closer in a pivotal scene), and a completely ridiculous final act that would make most thrillers point and laugh.

For those unfamiliar with Scott's film, the story tells of overpaid free-agent slugger Bobby Rayburn (played by Wesley Snipes) who returns to his hometown San Francisco Giants (if this sounds familiar, you should know that Barry Bonds sued the film for stealing his character....and probably should have won), much to the delight of obsessed fan Gil Renard (whom I get confused with Buck Rodgers in the 25th Century star and personal hero Gil Gerard). Alongside a supporting cast of Ellen Barkin, John Leguizamo, and slugger-turned-TV-analyst John Kruk, there's a star in the making who provides the spark that makes The Fan an awesome spectacle for me.That star, as pictured above, is the unforgettably talented Juan Primo. Played by aspiring youngster Benicio Del Toro, Primo is everything Giants fans want at a fraction of the price the stressed Rayburn comes to town at. Worse, he owns Rayburn's preferred jersey number, 11, and if you know nothing about athletes you should know that numbers are a religion to these guys. Primo isn't selling his identity, and as Rayburn becomes frustrated and injured the unsound Renard makes it his mission to convince Primo that the number belongs to Bobby.Movie plot aside, Juan Primo freaking rules. Cinema's greatest gift to humanity (the montage, of course) establishes him quickly as a likable and charismatic player on the field, and he quickly moves into the heart of even a depressed Mets fan like myself. Del Toro has to establish Primo physically without much dialogue (he still wasn't the most fluent English speaker at the time of production), and a look back at the hero-making montage reminds me of a young Johnny Damon or a pre-steroid scandal Brady Anderson. He's a small player, but it's clear that he combines speed on the base paths with a power swing and a magnetic glove and truly is what the scouts would call a "five-tool" player.As you can guess from the title, Juan never gets a chance to fully realize his potential, and I'm still a little heartbroken about this. But, knowing how sports fans work, I'm sure there's a fictional cult of Primo worshipers in The Fan's ridiculous world who still recall Primo fondly and spend many innings pondering what life would have been like if they had a little more time with a player like Juan Primo roaming center field. I enthusiastically throw myself into that fictional band of brothers, because the fact that I didn't get more Juan Primo still irks me nearly fifteen years later.And with that, I gladly welcome back baseball season with hopes that a real-life Juan Primo could come along and remind me how fun the game can be now that I'm older and less attentive. And here's to you, Juan Primo. Thanks to you (as Kruk wisely said) "Now we all get to wear the number."

A Second Look at Paranormal Activity

Back in October when it was taking the world by storm, I had this to say about the indie darling Paranormal Activity. Since that relatively early date in its run, the film went on to become the most profitable movie ever made, and also created a strong number of followers and dissenters on both sides of any street.

As my hyperbolic review shows, I immediately bought into this one during the theatrical viewing, and a lot of that experience has stuck with me. I still remember driving home alone from the showing, and checking my rear view mirror often for any irregularities. As I distanced myself from the movie, memories of the discomfort the film produced still hit me around bedtime for nearly a month, but I also found plenty of other people who didn't buy into the film at all, and a lot of their points made sense to me.

Now, it's nearly six months later. I picked up the Paranormal DVD like any The Mike would do, but let it fester on my shelf until today. I wondered what I would think of the relatively gimmicky film in daylight and without a ravenous crowd, and here's a quick rundown of what I found. I suppose there are minor spoilers within, but no plot details will be revealed.

• The movie has definitely lost a lot of the intrigue that haunted me in that first viewing. I wasn't shivering, my stomach felt fine, and I didn't cover my eyes once. However, I still found myself very interested in the trappings of the story. I've read a lot of people talking about how contrived the story is or how the characters don't really do anything to improve their situation, but I don't really mind those things because the way the film's haunting(?) is handled is crisp and original.
• Speaking of the characters' lack of action, that's one of the least concerning parts of the film to me. I've always liked to assume that, in evil forces situations like these, there's a predetermined course of action that the characters are locked into - at least to an extent. Recent horror heartthrob The House of the Devil is another film that fits this belief - there are so many choices the characters make where a different action could disrupt the whole plot; and I like to think the characters were "guided" into these choices. Katie's late film smirk in PA shows this blatantly, but I prefer to think that it's not the first act of guidance from the force in the camera's eye.
• One of my favorite thoughts when this came out occurred when I noted that Micah and Katie were unwed, and I wondered if their cohabitation - an act most religions frown upon - was something that drove the demon. This viewing confirmed what I thought - this undertone doesn't really exist in the movie, it's just something I thought up for fun.
  
• Katie Featherstone can scream like a pro. Micah Sloat plays the dickhead well. A lot of people found his character completely unlikable, but I a) think he did have some moments of true caring despite his stupid actions; and b) think it's not unlikely a person could react similarly to him in these situations.
• A lot of the "money" scares still have effect, even on second try and in daylight. The final moments had my eyes glued to the screen again, and I still was emotionally involved in the moment.
• I watched the version with the DVD's alternate ending, and while it seems more appropriate for the story I kinda miss the ridiculously in-your-face theatrical ending. Still, this is one of those stories where it's near impossible to find a perfect ending.
• As a final thought, I don't think Paranormal Activity the film holds up to Paranormal Activity the theatrical experience - but I still found myself completely interested in the simple story that I think is executed near perfectly. I won't call it a reinvention of the horror genre or anything so silly at this point - and in a relatively great year for horror I'd probably rank it behind the likes of Drag Me to Hell, The House of the Devil, Trick 'r Treat, Pontypool and maybe more - but I do still find myself strongly impressed with Oren Peli's independent horror darling.

P.S. - Wanna see something in the same real-human-drama-meets-horror vein as Paranormal Activity that's also awesome? Find a way to see Dawning.

P.P.S. - The Mike (under his Earth name) is totally in the end credits on the DVD as one who requested this movie get to theaters! I'm one of these:

Midnight Movie of the Week #13 - The Body Snatcher

"You can't build life they way you put blocks together!"

That's a quote spoken by star Boris Karloff near the midpoint of Robert Wise's 1945 adaptation of The Body Snatcher, and anyone who knows where the star's initial fame comes from can probably find some irony in the comment. It's a prime indication of how the Val Lewton produced film, which also features Karloff's contemporary and rival Bela Lugosi in a smaller role, is not interested in following in the footsteps of Universal's Monster series, which was spinning its wheels into obscurity by the time Lewton and co. took over the gothic horror scene in the early 1940s.

Wise is one of the most accomplished genre directors in Hollywood history, later making award winning musicals like West Side Story and The Sound of Music alongside horror/sci-fi hits The Haunting and The Day the Earth Stood Still (plus, a personal favorite noir, The Set-Up). Here he's cutting his teeth on his third film (his second with Lewton, after The Curse of the Cat People), but he already seems to have a mastery of black-and-white cinematography that few other filmmakers ever matched. He also offers us one of the first "real-crime" horrors of the Hollywood era, referencing and drawing from real-life murderers Burke and Hare often as he provides his look into Edinburgh of 1831.

The film, adapted from a short story by Robert Louis Stevenson, follows a pair of doctors who practice on cadavers and Cabman John Gray (Karloff), a grave-robber first and smirking fiend second, who provides the specimens for their experiments. Gray is the type of character who can only signify bad news to anyone who requires his services, and things become more complicated as suspicion arises in the mind of the young doctor (Russell Wade) about just how he comes to acquire such well-kept specimens. This also raises a red flag for the doctors' assistant Josef (Lugosi), who confronts the imposing Gray in a memorable mid film scene. (Of course, it's hard for me to view the two onscreen without thinking of the Martin Landau as Lugosi response from 1994's Ed Wood. That's both one of my favorite movies ever, and a different story for a different day. Let's move on.)Like I said earlier, The Body Snatcher may feature Universal's big stars, but that's as close as it fits to the Frankenstein or Dracula films of Hollywood's Golden Era. In fact, today there would be a strong debate as to whether or not this film would qualify for the horror section at the local video store (or Netflix, for those of you who prefer killing home video). There's no lumbering villain or mystical conjurer, just an extremely unsettling and compelling human character who's clearly a smarter criminal than the doctor who wants to become like God. Karloff provides Gray with both a sinister sneer and a charming smile, dominating the characters he deals with with ease, capturing the viewer's attention in the process.
A short film with a deeply satisfying plot, The Body Snatcher offers up Karloff at his best and provides a smart outlet for the classic horror fan. The abrupt ending is surprising but effective, reminding us of the cursed nature of all characters who tamper with the boundaries of life and death. Despite a slow-pace at the start, things pick up drastically in the second and third acts, and what might be Karloff's best performance adds to the film's power. The Body Snatcher is a film any classic horror fan needs to seek out, and an easy choice to be added to the Midnight Movie of the Week collection.

I Sell the Dead

2008, Dir. by Glenn McQuaid.

After a couple of years on the festival circuit and a limited theatrical run, writer/director Glenn McQuaid's Victorian horror comedy I Sell the Dead has finally hit shelves this week. After an intriguing trailer (scroll down for that one) and the promise of Larry Fessenden's Glass Eye Pix and Scareflix companies being involved in it, I knew this was the type of new horror I could not miss.

I Sell the Dead begins by introducing us to Arthur Blake and Willie Grimes (Dominic Monaghan of Lost/Lord of the Rings and Fessenden, respectively) who're about to be beheaded for the crimes of grave robbing and murder. As a priest (RON FREAKING PERLMAN!) attempts to get Blake's last words, Arthur insists he's not responsible for any murder. He is, however, more than willing to recount his history as a grave robber - and those flashbacks are where the meat and potatoes of this film lies.

Through Arthur's flashbacks, the film is allowed to tell tales of various horrors. It starts simple with grave robbing, but with time things get weirder. Without spoiling any details, I can let you know that you should expect I Sell the Dead to offer many different types of horror and sci-fi characters throughout. Many of the monsters at foot will be evident from the start of each encounter, but the fun of the film lies in how McQuaid handles these oddly macabre situations.

Visually, I Sell the Dead is a treat, despite being very low budget. The influence of Hammer Films is evident (during the special features the cinematographer speaks of being influenced by Freddie Francis' overlooked Paranoiac!) in the framing of cemetery scenes, with fog blowing across the screen constantly and blue-tinted night skies for effect at times. Costumes also fit the Hammer bill, as does most of the excellent musical score.

But this is most definitely not the only influence on McQuaid's film, which is full of dark comedic moments. Fessenden is the key to this tone with his performance as Willie, a vile character who could be the "Old English" answer to the redneck. Monaghan plays the straight role most of the time opposite Fessenden's haggard mannerisms, and the banter between the duo provides many strong laughs. Aside from Perlman's relatively small serious role, the film also features a supporting performance from Phantasm's Angus Scrimm, who makes the most out of a brief mad scientist role, and Scareflix veteran John Speredakos as a villainous rival dead-seller.

Trouble comes when I Sell the Dead tries to balance its comedic and atmospheric moments, and this leads to a slightly disjointed feeling through the first hour of the film. The final reels seem to even out and lead to an enjoyable climax that's filled with some darkly humorous moments of blood splatter. The film ends rather abruptly though, which surprised and disappointed me.

The copy of the film I picked up came with a free comic book version of the story, and it seems to me like that medium might fit I Sell the Dead's intentions better than the film did. I found myself genuinely interested in the exploits of Arthur and Willie, and the film showed the ability to add and subtract rich supporting characters as needed. The film definitely could benefit from more actual time being devoted to its characters - at 85 minutes the film barely manages to introduce the characters and the situations they deal with before the end credits roll.

I enjoyed being introduced into the supernatural world I Sell the Dead has created, and I'm sure it's a film I'll want to rewatch a few times based solely on its originality - but I definitely was left wanting more. I hope we'll see more of Arthur and Willie again down the road, whether it's through the rumored sequel or comics (or an animated movie would also fit this world well), because there's a lot of greatness in the ideas McQuaid and company present in I Sell the Dead. In fact, there's enough good moments that I definitely recommend that any fan of independent horror give this one a chance - it might not win you over entirely, but I can't imagine you won't find some joy in its madness.

And, for good measure, here's a cool retro poster and the trailer. Enjoy!

Supremely Cheesy Cinema, Vol. 1: Werewolf of Washington

When I started this blog back in the day, I had a desire to focus on a lot of really ridiculous movies, and I've noticed lately I've lost that a bit. I know what you're saying: "The Mike, your last recommendation was a killer scarecrow film, what do you mean not ridiculous?" You have a good point. But I'm talkin' bout that supremely enjoyable type of cheese that you know isn't a "good" flick that you know you can't take your eyes off. I'm talking about movies like Werewolf of Washington, the first film I'll feature in my new Supremely Cheesy Cinema series.A pseudo-remake of Universal's original The Wolfman, Werewolf of Washington focuses on a presidential adviser named Jack played by Dean Stockwell, most famous to my generation as Scott Bakula's time-jumping adviser on Quantum Leap. Jack is young and successful, to the point of dating the President's daughter behind his back and, while trying to avoid said president, getting offered a spot he "couldn't refuse" as a press aide that apparently is the closest possible position to the President available. But before he can fulfill his duties in said position, he has to take a trip to Hungary and get attacked by a wolf who turns into a man after he kills it. Like Universal's tale, there are thankfully gypsies on hand to sort out all the lycanthropic details for Jack.

Back in Washington the next day (No rest for the wolf-ed, am I right?), Jack feels a little dogged while attending a shindig at the White House. After awkwardly avoiding the First Daughter's advances in front of the Pres (played by Biff McGuire, hence I will from here on out refer to him as 'President Biff'), Jack is left in the care of a rich madam who's had a few drinks. She smartly heads off on her own, only to be mutilated outside a grocery store.

By this point any moderately trained horror viewer knows what's going on with Jack, and he does too. He's seen the pentagrams on his victims' hands and bears a non-scary star on his chest. Of course, no one else will believe him, which leads to a) some extremely cheddar overacting and b) some ridiculous comedic moments, like the time he has to hide out in a bathroom stall to avoid President Biff and an astronaut or the time he goes bowling with President Biff and gets his wolfy fingers stuck in the bowling ball. (Slightly scary - Who hasn't had fears of getting their fingers stuck in a bowling ball?)Amidst the goofy interludes, Jack continues to turn into a he-wolf nightly and go out for a lone murder. Two questions arose in my mind at this point: 1) What happens to the werewolf after he's made his kill? Does his animal instinct tell him he's done and that it's time to go pee on fire hydrants before passing out? Does he drink pina coladas like Warren Zevon said?; and 2) How does Washington D.C. get 5-6 consecutive nights of full moon? That's totally not fair!

Werewolf of Washington has some surprisingly good moments, particularly in Stockwell's performance. When he's not being asked to do entirely ridiculous things he nails the paranoid tragic figure we've come to expect from werewolf flicks, and handles a lot of the physical aspects in an effective manner when other actors may have become too embarrassed by the goofiness to completely sell out in the name of the role. The werewolf makeup and transformation scenes are done with surprising competence, too, until the point when the director must have said: "OK, now you've got the makeup...just...uh...well....crawl around the shag carpeting and knock things over for a bit!"
And, just when things couldn't possibly get sillier, there's a secret lab led by the diminutive Dr. Kiss that exists under the White House. Dr. Kiss' encounter with Were-Jack must be seen to be believed, but let's just say that it made TV hostess Elvira scream: "Hey Jack, stop licking that midget!" And is that a Frankensteiny monster that Jack's been sniffing? No one really knows, because the film just decided to let this subplot die.

Werewolf of Washington is one of those rare b-horrors that features enough moments of strength that you want to actually call it a good movie...until it does something silly and completely loses any shred of credibility it had. And when it does carom off the rails, what follows is usually so random that you can't help but laugh at the results. All these forces come together like a magical conjunction to make Werewolf of Washington more than deserving of the Supremely Cheesy Cinema label.

P.S. - I caught this flick on DVD as an episode of Elivra's Movie Macabre, hosted by the unforgettable Elvira and her ample bosom. Good memories deserve a picture. Happy viewings!