Frozen (2010)

Frozen. It’s really hard for me to describe how excited I was to see this movie, but I’ll try anyway. First, the enigmatic title, which could stand as for a precursor for anything (just hopefully not a remake of Frozen Alive), or nothing. Just aiding the atmosphere. Next came the description, one which describes three friends getting stranded on a ski lift, hanging over a mountain, all night long; while a pack of wolves watches below.

A (spiritual) sequel to Alive, if you will, only with less cannibalism and more awesome wolf attacks!

Sadly, the wolves wait for the people to hit the ground.

Just that mental image alone made me need to see this. The idea of watching three people argue for 90 minutes while their ski lift chair swings back and forth while wolves attack! Christ, my mind can’t even think of a logical explanation on how the wolves would reach them. Which is why I’m not a script writer, or, in any way shape or form, a part of the movie making process. The where‘s and how‘s is director Adam Green’s problem, the why having already been answered by me at the beginning of this paragraph.

“Cigarettes are just gross. Especially in the cold; they just stick to you like an ashtray and an old man’s used floss.” -Joe.

Ten minutes into the film and the three kids: Joe (Shawn Ashmore), Dan (Kevin Zegers), and Parker (Emma Bell) are debating the merits of pot smoke vs cigarette smoke. This is exactly the type of dumb shit my friends and I would half-heartedly debate in a similar situation. (As neither I or my friend smoke anything.)

My new goal is now to remake this film at Busch Gardens; with our awesome protagonists trapped above the dolphin tank. Or aboard the Phoenix for a possibly vomit-inducing length of time. Look for it in 2031!

“I think burning would be a worse way to go…” – Parker

Now they’re debating the worst way to die! I can’t even pretend that this would be something I’d argue with my friends anymore, because this is something I actually have done!

It’s as if Adam Green made this movie solely for me…

Even better, the characters actually do get trapped on the ski lift! The wolves not making their appearance until Dan decides he’ll jump down to get help. A jump that obviously leads to two broken, bloody legs. This movie’s slowly turning into some perverse sort of Christmas/wintertime “torture porn.”

Parker is slowly developing frost bite over her face, Dan breaks both his legs before being eaten alive by a pack of wolves, and Joe slices his gloves to shreds trying to climb across the ski lift’s cables.

[In best preview guy voice]: Imagine the worst things that can happen at a ski lodge… Now watch them all unfold at ONCE!!!…

One of the nice things about this film is its minimalism. Three characters, one situation, and an oppressively limited number of options. Much of the fun to be had here is droning out their inane “we’re all about to die, so let’s talk about how guilty we feel for abandoning out pets” with your own “how the hell are they gonna end this movie!?!” questions.

There’s two obvious choices. The first, and most obvious, yet least likely, one is everyone dies. But I’m having doubts that anyone would be willing to bankroll a movie with an ending so dark that it’ll never make money.

The other option, the one with them surviving, doesn’t seem any better. We’re told the ski lodge is only open on the weekends, and it’s Sunday night. So anyone coming back to find them would be an inexcusable aberration. Plus the lift, at least, was being run by less than scrupulous people, so one imagines the lodge that hired them wouldn’t be much better.

Frozen ultimately splits the difference between the two; landing in some strange middle ground. Leaving almost no closure at the end; concluding on an obvious (original) Texas Chainsaw Massacre-inspired note. (Kane Hodder, who’s played Leatherface before, makes a cameo.) It worked in …Massacre because that had been so chaotic and brutal that after 90 minutes any respite felt golden.

Here, however, with just one set, and a lot of dialogue, buoying the proceedings, you’re left feeling cheated. As if they couldn’t think up a workable ending, so they didn’t try.

The Crawling Eye (1958)

Okay, and I thought the matte paintings in Jessie James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter were bad! The opening Swiss Alps scene from the Crawling Eye makes one long for the “brilliance” of Paul Sylos’ work there.

Why begin your film with a close-up of a shot that in no way could be considered: ideal, good, or competent? Well, the Crawling Eye began life as the Trollenberg Terror: originally a six part story on British television’s Saturday Serial. The terror arising from all the headless corpses being found.

So when the Trollenberg Terror made the jump to the big screen, it was only natural to start off with a err… chop.

One thing I love about this film is the speed at which it moves. Its series pedigree left director Quentin Lawrence with no choice but to cram hours worth of mystery material into 84 short (by comparison) minutes. Enter Anne (Janet Munro) and Sarah (Jennifer Jayne) Pilgrim; two sisters traveling to Geneva, sharing a train compartment with Allen Brooks (Forrest Tucker).

Two sisters with a distinct advantage in getting through pages worth of exposition; Ann is psychic. She sees the opening murders while traveling, get sick, and forces her sister to stop the(ir) trip early. A stop that’s naturally also shared by Alan Brooks.

See? 10 minutes in, and we’ve probably already shifted through one or two episodes worth of movement and backstory!

It should also be noted that at no point do the “special effects” ever get any better. Though they do eventually give up on matte paintings and switch to canvas painted backdrops. Which, given the perspectives used, give the impression that our heros are always standing on a ledge.

Not to mention the science lab/”observatory.” It’s an “observatory” located atop a mountain to measure cosmic rays. Which is a clever way of saying we had a one window set we wanted to use, and couldn’t be bothered to change it. So they put two amateur-grade telescopes out, and have the professor talk about how great his radiation radar machine is.

I don’t want to seem too hard on the film though, as there’s still a lot to love. For one thing, its already mentioned pace moves so fast you ca’t get bored. Another nice touch is that the Pilgrim sisters are eventually recognized as a mind-reading act. Adding a nice touch of tension to Ann’s revelations, as both she and her sister had trouble believing in them prior.

Another neat touch is how the Trollenberg Terror is housed in a radioactive cloud on the mountain. People climb up the mountain, the cloud follows and decapitates them. Then slowly slides back up the mountain.

Professor Crevett (Warren Mitchell) theorizes that the cloud is housing aliens, who need the thin mountain atmosphere to survive. Noting that their forays down the mountain keep getting lower; as they become better acclimated. The victims either lose their heads or have the blood drained from them and become zombies. Alien zombies of science; hell bent on murdering psychics!

In keeping with this month’s theme, winter, the alien clouds are icy cold. Even the zombies give themselves away by constantly complaining about the heat. It’s the little touches like that, that are still thematically connected to the movie, that makes this great.

The first thing you’ll notice about the Crawling Eyes (yes, there’s multiple) is how awesome they sound. Forget their Muppet Babies-esque rear projection origins. Just listen to that racket! Sounding like someone using an echo chamber to add some extra heft to the “woo-woo-woo’s” they’re talking into a microphone.

Unfortunately the last thing you’ll notice is the Eyes’ attack on the lab. Which would, theoretically, be a great ending, had they the resources to pull it off correctly. They didn’t, meaning it’s clearly miniatures standing upon (slightly larger) miniatures, surrounded by fake smoke.

Not exactly the way you want a film to end.

Frozen Alive (1964)

Not to cast doubts on Frozen Alive, but when your film’s grand opening is a science conference about “low temperature research,” you’re in trouble. “You” covering everyone. The cast for thinking they’ll ever work again after this picture. The producers for thinking they’ll ever make their money back. And us, the audience, for having to sit through the longest film in the history of film. Sure the sleeve says it’s only 60 minutes long, but it plays out as the cinematic equivalent of Sunn 0))).

You have to love these movies from the 50s and 60s. The Drs. Helen Wieland (Marianne Koch) and Frank Overton (Mark Stevens) are giving a presentation on their newly discovered technique of deep freezing chimpanzees, and then bringing them back to life. The biggest hubbub at the conference is over whether they should be allowed to test their techniques on humans; not about the ethicality of testing on animals. PETA would have a field-day with this one!

No joke, 12 minutes into the film and the characters are now leaving the science conference. 28 minutes into the 60 minute film and a gun shows up in the hands of Dr. Frank’s drunken and jealous wife, Joan Overton (Delphi Lawrence). Finally, some conflict that’s not philosophical!

Two props in hand, Lawrence steals the show.

There’s a number of story arcs set to collide with Delphi’s powerhouse performance. (Her careening and barking at both Frank and her boyfriend on the side, Tony (Joachim Hansen), is easily the film’s best performance. It’s so natural it’s hard to believe she might not have actually been drunk.) She’s jealous of Frank’s closeness with lab partner Helen, probably fueled by guilt over her own relationship with Tony. Helen’s angry because her partnership with Frank is being broken up right before their major breakthrough. And Tony, poor Tony, got Joan drunk and now just wants her to stop waving his gun around so he can write his newspaper article.

And in a plot twist I certainly didn’t see coming, Frank, Helen, and even “don’t point that thing at me, not even in jest!” Tony take the bullet. It’s Joan, after sobering up! Shoots herself! With a unregistered gun. The eyes, naturally, turn towards Frank, who, strangely, just happened to offer himself as the lab’s first human experiment after his wife comes off the sauce.

"My wife's sober again! Please, you must freeze me!"

It’s not noted in the film, but it’s entirely probable that his decision to become a human guinea pig is because Joan sobered up. If she’s that combative drunk, one has to wonder how she’ll react sober when she doesn’t get the last garlic roll.

So the cops want to question Frank, who can’t be reawakened without jeopardizing the experiment and possibly brain damaging him. Leading to tension when… the cops decide, “okay, we’ll wait for the experiment to end as planned.” So no tension at all.

A little something for the ladies. That's Mark Stevens in case you all want to send fan mail out.

Oh wait, tension because we don’t know if he’ll come out okay. Seriously, that’s Frozen Alive’s big cliff-hanger: will Frank still be able to talk when he awakens? No more mention of his dead wife, or of Tony, who, as the owner of the unregistered gun in question, probably should’ve been questioned first.

I know the cops obviously wouldn’t know about Tony and the gun, but that’s where the neighbors come into play. Joan wasn’t shy about shooting the thing, and they both had numerous nights on the town together. I would’ve hoped someone noticed something.

Halloween Endurance Test: Resident Evil: Extinction (2007)

Of all the already frustrating Resident Evil films, Resident Evil: Extinction might be the most frustrating. On the one hand a new director, Russell Mulcahy, has been brought in, and script writer, and past director, Paul W.S. Anderson has finally accepted zombie-dom’s traditional conventions. Meaning mankind is on the wane, and zombies have and are decimating the Earth.

Unfortunately, with Paul W.S. Anderson still writing the story, we can only expect so much. Left with a heroine, Alice (Milla Jovovich), that’s way too powerful (she can explode brains with her mind at the end of Resident Evil: Apocalypse), Anderson decides the only option left is to clone her! So that the Earth can be overrun by zombies and psychic Alices.

(It’s worth noting that Anderson and Milla would marry in 2009; which might explain why his scripts go to such great lengths to glorify her. And feature her naked; as this one does in its opening shot! Which would seem to me to be a classic case of “coming on too strong,” but apparently it worked. He’s married to a Russian model/actress, and I write about crappy movies. Take your pick folks!)

RE: Extinction marries the Road Warrior’s post-apocalyptic aesthetic with George Romero’s Day of the Dead “Bub” subplot. In that film, a scientist was trying to rehabilitate/civilize a zombie “Bub.” (They manage to get him to wear headphones and fire a gun.)

Here, the Umbrella corporation is staking their, and our, survival on recreating Alice’s genetic structure. She, after all, became psychic after becoming infected, a useful trick any way you look at it. Failing that, they’re also prepared to unleash half-domesticated zombie soldiers as a futuristic answer to Tolkien’s Uruk-hai.

Umbrella’s zombies weren’t contained at the end of RE: Apocalypse, and the(ir) menace went global. Somehow turning the world into a giant, desolate desert. (Granted, I think it’s mentioned only for affect, but wouldn’t the human race dying off be beneficial to nature in the long run? Less trash, pesticides, clear-cutting? Unless the zombies start dining on greens once their food source becomes unreliable.) Our cast of characters split into three groups.

Just seconds before the secondary characters die...

The antagonists: the Umbrella corporation, consisting of scientists and businessmen, exiled themselves underground and continued to experiment. (Including, but not limited to, the cloning of Alice). Alice, now supercharged, ventured off on her own, spending years riding around on a motorcycle while avoiding detection by Umbrella’s spy satellites. (That’s right, she fucking memorized their outer space flight patterns! And no one in the film acts as if that’s a big deal!) And all the other remnants from RE: Apocalypse show up too, to fill out the dialogue. Since none of them were developed in the last film, it seems kind of foolish to try to explain them here; as they all die. Their main contribution is how they all dress like extras from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.

One thing that’s never really explained is why Alice, after spending years riding crazy zig-zag patterns across the US to avoid spy satellites, would then just decide to use her psychic powers will-nilly in the span of two days, and thus allow Umbrella to triangulate her location. Years of hard work down the drain just ’cause she wanted to vaporize some zombie crows with mind-flames.

Yes, you read that right, and it looks as horrible as it sounds. Just because CGI-technology says you can do something, does not mean you should.

Plot-wise, the movie revolves around three fight sequences. The first has a beaten-up, groped, and disarmed Alice fighting off a pack of zombie dogs. All by herself.

The second sequence, has already been mentioned, involving Alice, her own pack of friends, and a murder of zombie crows. When their conventional weaponry fails, Alice sets the sky on fire and burns everything up.

So it seems only natural that for the final sequence, against the zombie Uruk-hai, Alice only brings two kukri knives. Because, as the previous battles have shown us, she’s in no danger of dying. Hell, she was already infected with the zombie (T-) virus in RE: Apocalypse, and all it did to her was make her more powerful.

(Remember, these films aren’t so much the cinematization of a popular zombie video game, but an hour and a half love letter from Paul W.S. Anderson to Milla Jovovich.)

While the rest of the cast scurries around a post-apocalyptic Las Vegas, re-enacting every Battlefield server I ever saw my brother play on, Alice wanders around flaunting her invulnerability. Whereas the other actors have to shoot zombies in the head to kill them, she can just cut their throats. Or stab them in the stomach. How these wounds would kill a creature that’s already dead is beyond me, but the soundtrack indicates that we’re supposed to be pumped up and not thinking about the particulars of the last two films going right down the drain.

Needless to say, Alice wins. She then tracks the mad scientist back to his lab, where he’s quickly morphed into a half-man, half-octopus creature. (You have to love that Japanese influence!) Their final battle plays out like an Aphex Twin video; which both screaming sonic blasts at each other.

Not all the clones make it...

The lab also contains a billion cloned Alices who are released at the end. ‘Cuz what better way to conclude a film already capsized by the sheer power inequality of the main character than by cloning her a thousand-fold?

—More Resident Evil(s)—

Resident Evil: Apocalypse

Resident Evil

When in Rome, Do as the Tourists Do

Last year I took a vacation to the capital of our nation’s granite and Dunkin Donuts industries: New Hampshire. My trip had three reasons: two overt, and one covert.

The first? To be the first in my immediate family to visit our niece. Oh, yeah, my brother was there too, but his role gets larger later. (Okay, second in my immediate family, as I believe my Northernly sister made a visit earlier.)

The second? To pick-up/adopt the indecisive Spider/Scrappy/Mr. Kitty. As the proud parent of my niece, my brother had to make the tough transition from Crazy Cat Lady Man to Dad. A wise choice even if he doesn’t agree with me about giving Spider the freedom to eschew gender roles and take the name she was born to rock: Drooley Mr. Kitty.

Its nondescript outside masks its jaw-shatteringly awesome insides

And the last, secret, reason? To visit the Pinball Wizard Arcade; the mecca of pinball for all the geeks who don’t want to make the drive to FunSpot.

Inside? Rows and rows of beautifully functional pinball machines. No bad flippers here. And even if there are, with a going rate of 100 tokens for $20, you won’t care if you’re not as awesome at Buck Rogers as you remember.

I used to play Cirqus Voltaire religiously growing up. Sadly, I’m no better at it now than I was back then.

If there was one machine I desperately wanted to play, it was this one: Bad Cats. Whereas I would occasionally play Cirqus Voltaire, at least one play on Bad Cats was a given. Funny, considering how hated the game is by pinball insiders. Python Anghelo, the artist who worked on the classics: High Speed, Pin*Bot(!), Big Guns, and Taxi(!!), says of his Bad Cats experience: “[it is] one of my ‘yes boy, kiss-ass’… one of my worst experiences.”[1]

Doesn’t matter though. Hell, Michelangelo allegedly wasn’t 100% happy with the Sistine Chapel. And Lou Reed still stands behind “Metal Machine Music.”

When that short-skirted housewife leans over and slaps the cat with her broom, it is a religious experience.

The Pinball Wizard’s Arcade isn’t just pinball though. There’s also a remarkable amount of video games you’ll remember seeing in your childhood arcade, but never playing.

I think every arcade had a S.T.U.N. Runner; played by the dumber kids who didn’t realize paying 50 cents for one shot on a machine rocking souped up vector graphics just doesn’t cut it when the same amount will buy you two trips to Bad Cats-land.

Sadly, they didn’t have the immortal A.P.B. set-up as the sit-down unit. “Officer Bob” still rules though.

I believe this was one of the original Budweiser machines, made before controversy reared its ugly head under the guise of: advertising beer to minors. Hence a “Root” added to the (Beer) “Tapper” title.

Then came the weirdo machines: such as Steve Meyer’s Wacko. As you can see, the game’s cabinet was “inspired,” sporting askew angles usually reserved for slasher films.

The game continued with the theme, playing as a cross between the traditional Match Game and a third-person shooter. The monsters came in pairs, and you had to shoot a monster’s pair before moving onto a different beast. Otherwise the monsters would mutate into hybrids; the top-half of one, and the bottom of the other. At which point you’d have to shoot them wrong again to reunite the proper halves and kill ‘em off.

You can almost hear him cursing at the screen!

All while being handicapped to only four axises from which to shoot while moving via trackball! Much harder then any game named “Wacko” deserves to be.

Then there’s Night Stocker. Billed as the “first game to combine the shooting with the driving,” the result is a mess. Ever wish you could dodge landmines/blobs while shooting a gun? Here you can!

Naturally it was this mad scientist concoction of a game that I showed any semblance of skill on…

They even had the infamous Baby Pac-Man! The game that was one of the coffin nails in the relationship between Namco and Bally-Midway. As you can see, it’s a hybrid, with the player playing a traditional Pac-Man level before the action changes to the mini-pinball board above the controller. Not a great idea.

Not that Baby Pac-Man’s failure would do anything to dissuade Williams from creating Banzai Run; another hybrid pinball game. Luckily, I managed to do whatever steps you need to do to actually play on the backglass. Naturally, I lost 3.5 seconds later, but hey, an achievement is an achievement, no matter how small.

(Time Machine, the machine on the right, is another childhood memory that I failed to live up too.)

Truth be told, Craggle and I were up all night the night before playing the Williams Collection on Xbox. So the machines on there were our real targets. Gorgar, the first talking pinball machine, was also our first stop:

Pin*Bot’s so awesome I had to take two photos. Seriously, we were prepared to spend hundreds of dollars to make sure we opened Pin*Bot’s visor.

The favorite, ultimately, was Williams’ powerhouse machine, Taxi.

Ever wish you could cram Marilyn Monroe, Dracula, and Pin*Bot into a tiny taxi cab? Of course, and here you can! Just save some room for Gorbie!

Jack Frost 2: Revenge of the Mutant Killer Snowman (2000)

[Having been left with so many leftover movies from 2011's Halloween Endurance Test, I've decided to watch a few every month. Each month will have a theme: January's will naturally be winter. 'Cuz it's cold. I haven't decided on a title for this run yet, so we'll settle on "Cantaloupes" until the summer, when it'll change into "Peppermint" or, hopefully, something more suitable.]

I’m two minutes into Jack Frost 2: Revenge of the Mutant Killer Snowman, and I’m already in love. I hope this feelings doesn’t fade. While you can’t very well say that a script involving the words “mutant killer snowman” is good; at least the absurdity is carried out painlessly.

Why the love? This film might be the most economical of any film, in any genre. It opens with a cop, Sam Tiler (Christopher Allport), spilling his guts to his shrink; where it’s casually mentioned that Sam needs to forget about his Jack Frost (Scott MacDonald) obsession. Cue a first-hand recounting of the previous film; minus the gratuitous flashback scenes that usually get tacked on. Instant love.

Those of us (99.9999 repeating%) of the world who missed the first one are now caught up to speed about everything you might need to know about this franchise. All before the credits roll!

Oh my god, this is just bananas now. Director/Scriptwriter Michael Cooney must have been going for some kind of postmodern filmmaking award given out for the number of times you tear down the fourth wall. ‘Cuz after the opening we meet Colonel Hickering (Ray Cooney), the manager of a Caribbean hotel who’s foreshadowing what’s going to happen to his guests as they get off the bus. And by “foreshadow” I mean tell you what the fuck is going to happen in 30 minutes.

Shonda Farr's brief, but memorable, contribution to the film.

This is the perfect set-up. The film’s just started and I already love all the cast- and crew-members!

Amazing, for a film so concerned with both the future and the past, Jack Frost 2… pays almost no attention to the present. While we know why Sam visits the tropical resort (to escape from the memories of Jack Frost’s murders), we never do learn why Jack follows him. Revenge? Happenstance? Bad luck?

Though I guess motivation(s) aren’t so important when your monster is a serial killer reincarnated as an amorphous blob of snow. One that throws deadly icicles and snow balls when it’s not too busy changing into a giant snow anvil.

I can't honestly tell that's a trap. Can you?

Okay, watching Jack Frost melt in a pool of antifreeze is kind of gross. Frost ends up looking like some ice cream floating atop some water; slowly becoming more disgusting with each passing minute. Actually, I think it’s this human, “Oh my god, someone wasted ice cream” response that’s so disheartening.

Only now, in honor of the sequel, Jack Frost is immune to antifreeze. In fact ingesting the once deadly substance makes him pregnant; giving birth via snowball regurgitation.

Jack Frost’s pups are, inexplicably, more efficient killers, cutting through the film’s cast at a faster rate than Frost ever managed. They also allow Jack Frost 2 to make film history as the first movie based around giant, styrofoam balls. Remember this the next time you’re walking through Michaels thinking “this craft stuff would be great for a movie!”

The idea has now been done.

Jack Frost’s new weakness is another brilliant twist. We find that Jack and Sam are linked via some kind of blood transfer that happened somewhere. (I’m guessing a scene from Jack Frost.) This is how Jack tracked him to the Caribbean, as well as being the cause of the mutation making Frost immune to antifreeze. It also, however, makes Jack highly susceptible to bananas; one of Sam’s allergies.

So our heros take to the streets armed with banana daiquiris, and the fun begins. Literally, right after we find this out. The one actress unable to keep a straight face upon receiving the news that Jack Frost and her friend are both poisoned by nature’s greatest fruit.

I can’t decide whether it’s honorable or deplorable that Michael Cooney realized that his plot is so mind-numbingly stupid that not even the characters he’s writing can accept it! A live-action version of that Looney Tunes cartoon (Ducks Amuck) where Daffy combats the illustrator.

The plot may be absurd, but its resultant death by banana arrow should’ve been an Oscar contender…

A Roller Derby Christmas Story (Deadly Rival Roller Derby)

The Red Ryders' Brawl Marx eluding the Ralphies' Ultra Sonic and Pyx E Nyx

Santa came early in December, bearing three gifts: women, wheels, and a holiday bout celebrating one of the greatest holiday films of all time (uh, A Christmas Story). The women were the Deadly Rival Roller Derby league, a “new” squad of women fresh off a split from the Pinellas County Roller Girls. The wheels, obviously, symbolized everyone’s favorite sport: roller derby.

This recap marks a first in my derby career, with the majority of the reporting coming based off of real-life scores! With numbers backing it up and everything! Thanks to the tireless bean-counting of NSO supreme SugaDaddy, now when I say Freakshow dominated on the track, I have some facts backing up the claim!

The biggest improvement is that the girls are clearly a lot more comfortable skating out there. The Ralphies boasting two potent, and homegrown, jammers: Smash A Licious and Sindy Lou Who. (Sindy also having the distinction of representing two Christmas movies tonight.) Each were tied point-wise, at 27 apiece, collectively making up the majority of the Ralphies’ 101 points. (The majority of the rest were provided by ex-Tampa Bay Derby Darlin Freak Show; in her first bout since returning after years overseas.)

See?

This is now a total package. With both pop culture references and honest-to-goodness facts standing proudly side-by-side right here!

Gremlins (1984)

Moving right along with our Holiday theme, next up is Joe Dante’s classic Gremlins. This film makes a great case that the 80′s were the highpoint for horror movies. You had the hardcore, blood and guts of a multitude of bug budget franchises running strong (Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, Phantasm, Halloween, to name just a few), yet the genre still had enough strength to drop horror-themed family movies into the mix, and have them become blockbusters. 1984 is horror-dom’s “golden year,” seeing both Ghostbusters, Indiana Jones at the Temple of Doom, and Gremlins making a killing at both the box office and in popular culture.

Both Gremlins and …Temple of Doom were Spielberg projects (as producer and director respectively), and both received “PG” ratings off based solely off of his critical standing. (Since the MPAA rating system is an entirely private organization, with no actual ties to the government, a Hollywood big-shot like Spielberg, especially backed by Indy-partner George Lucas, could’ve easily gone without a rating (a la Dawn of the Dead) and shown the studios just how ineffective their industry watchdog truly was.

I love the way Randall Peltzer (Hoyt Axton) is an “inventor.” Not “salesman” or “even “sales rep,” no, he’s an “inventor.” One of those jobs that someone must have, much like poets, but that you’ll never see.

Even going so far as to mock E.T.'s famous touching fingertips scene!

I also love how ballsy director Joe Dante is towards his executive producer Spielberg. This movie came out when Spielberg, hot off of Indiana Jones’ success, was shoehorning nostalgia into all his productions. The film starts off with Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” playing on the radio. Total schmaltz.

Billy Peltzer (Zach Galligan) is shown running down Kingston Fall’s main street; a street that still carries stores such as “Discount Emporium” and “Drug Store.” I.e. a love letter to the olden days before chain stores conquered all.

This is where Dante’s touch comes into play. Next to the “Discount Emporium” is a “Burger King.” When Billy’s found trying to fix his car, his neighbor Murray (Dick Miller) remarks that he’s waiting for the day he finds Billy’s comic strip next to Lil’ Abner. Billy wrying remarks that that comic hasn’t been published in years. Billy’s love interest, Kate Beinger (Phoebe Cates), is moonlighting as a waitress for free, to help the bar owner out. Billy thinks this is a great idea, his rival, Gerald (Judge Reinhold) (name) thinks working for free is silly. Gizmo, Billy’s pet Mogwai, is cute, cuddly, and lovable, until it eats after midnight, at which point it becomes a reptilian, mischievous Gremlin.

Appearances aside, the modern age of cynicism has begun, whether Spielberg likes it or not.

(The sequel, Gremlins 2: the New Batch, would take this cynicism even further; using postmodern tricks such as breaking down the 4th wall and making the villains (the Gremlins) the stars as a final nail in nostalgia’s coffin.)

Everyone always loves when the nuclear family gets subverted. With Billy’s mom (name) refusing to play a victim, picking up a knife at the first sign of trouble and fighting back with blenders and microwaves. But they really shouldn’t be all that surprised or amazed. As Dante clearly knew what he was doing, as Lynn Peltzer (Frances Lee McCain) looks like a cross between Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley and Jamie Lee Curtis circa Halloween.

The Gremlins themselves are the embodiment of the latest “Yellow Scare” gripping the US in the 80s. In the film, the Gremlins are bought from an Asian merchant and waste no time in invading. Whereas, back then, Hollywood, along with the rest of the nation, was panicked over the surge in Asian investors buying up California real estate.

(A sentiment that, sadly, still hasn’t been entirely forgotten. For the audio equivalent of this “crisis,” please see Ice Cube’s “Black Korea.”)

Faced with such a challenge of coming to terms with complex sociopolitical issues, Gremlins answers the same way the US did in WWII; with the Gremlins being firebombed while watching a movie. Tying up all the loose ends in one fell swoop; with the Gremlin menace being vaporized as the antiquated Main Street style of life/community is blown to bits.

…and All I Received was this Michelle Trachtenberg Flick (Black X-Mas (2006))

Christmas came, I saw, I received awesome movies (copies of Kuroneko and the Phantom Carriage), and so, in honor of these fantastic gifts I bring this for you, a Black Christmas review. This is another remake in a long line of rehashes, much in the same vein as My Bloody Valentine. (Thankfully this one isn’t in 3-D.) With a story based around a holiday that the killer is connected to, and openings that acknowledge the original while still trying to pass off its reheated viscera as fresh meat.

When Billy, the Christmas Cannibal Killer’s past is shown, and you’re never sure if the film is restating what happened in the original 1974 Black Christmas, or just recycling that movie’s backstory too.

I’ve watched a lot of these remakes now, and I’m still slightly shocked at how unspectacular they are. Think about it. We all knew that the godfather of poorly planned reduxes, Gus Van Sant’s Psycho, was going to fail. Hitchcock’s Psycho is a classic, so there’s really nothing to improve upon. There’s no where to go but down.

A film like Black Christmas, however, is rife with possibilities. No one remembers the 1974 original besides editors of horror magazines and the immediate families of its “stars.” Leaving plenty of room to make this a masterpiece. Take the plot points you want, jettison the rest. No one will know, or care! It’s creative freedom writ large.

So how these remakes end up so bland and banal is beyond me.

William Castle would’ve had men wearing Santa suits and waving hatchets invade the theater during the film’s third act. Director Glen Morgan instead opts for a killer who makes a shiv out of a candy cane. Not very awe-inspiring.

(Though the porn one of the sorority sisters is caught watching on Christmas night does remind me of Richard Kern’s classic You Killed Me First. And I’ll take any reason to throw the Hardcore Collection back on is greatly appreciated.)

Up to, and including, gratuitous fake head shots.

This sorority (Delta Alpha Kappa) is total Hollywood cheese, in the insufferable way. There’s the obligatory geek that would never be allowed through make it through the front door of a real sorority. A drunk, an overly loud, and smug, historian, and a goth girl who can’t quite make the commitment to go all the way. I.e. she dyes her hair black and tries to sound unenthused. She’d clearly be the “lovable outsider” in the group if the geek hadn’t already cornered that position.

This is not to say that sororities don’t have smart sisters. Just that any sisters they did have wouldn’t be so socially awkward that they’d bring a crystal unicorn to a Secret Santa party.

The film plays out like CLUE as directed by Urban Legends’ Jamie Blanks. It even stars a Jared Leto lookalike! Tons of close-ups of faces, with enough mid-shots thrown in so that we don’t start thinking this is a Leone film. As with most modern mainstream horror really. The killer picks off each girl from within the house, all while new characters keep showing up to look suspicious.

The lecherous, plebeian boyfriend shows up; getting caught climbing through another girl’s window. A lady claiming to be one of the girl’s older, adopted sister shows up to sow more confusion. She’s a legacy, with a tenure defined by her pledging late and leaving early. Naturally, in true CLUE style, they’re all red herrings, since actually building a mystery involves more work than this cash grab could ever be hoped to do.

Plus, the murderous man has a (presumably rare) skin condition that has made his skin yellow. Fluorescent yellow. Like Sin City’s Yellow Bastard yellow. Which would be kind of difficult to explain away to the rest of the campus.

Black Christmas also has the prerequisite “fake” ending, where the killer dies, only to return a few days later to die again. Cats have nine lives, psychopaths two apparently. Either that or the filmmakers either a.) ran out of film, or b.) tired of documenting every pathetic failure.

Unfortunately, us at home aren’t quite so lucky, as the DVD provides three alternate endings in case you’re really that bored…

All I Want for Christmas is Calamity Jane… (Silent Night, Bloody Night (1974))

As any horror fan will tell you, there’s only one film that should be watched on Christmas Eve. Forget A Christmas Story, it’s overdone. Once they’re shilling imitation lamps in your honor, your 15 minutes are up. Great movie or not. Forget How the Grinch Stole Christmas too. Once they’re shilling a piss-poor rehash of a genuinely loved holiday cartoon, your 15 minutes are up too. Leaving us with a true Christmas classic that’s not Gremlins, Silent Night, Deadly Night.

Gremlins may have Phoebe Cates, but Silent Night, Deadly Night stars Mary Woronov (Death Race 2000)! Calamity Jane back on your screen, all for the sake of Christmas!

Also, Silent Night…’s opening shot has a man running through the snow, on fire. Yes, the film opens with a stunt most modern Hollywood stuntmen refuse to do on principal. Yet here it’s brazenly thrown away like a cheap gag.

Thrown out as a cheap thrill, but still vitally important. The immolated man was Wilfred Butler (Phillip Bruns), who’s death is ruled self-inflicted. His house is left to his only surviving relative, a Jeffrey Butler (James Patterson), under the strict instructions that Jeffrey is to retain the house as long as he promises to “never change it.” It is to stand as a monument against the world’s immorality.

All goes well until Jeffrey hires a big city lawyer, John Carter (Patrick O’Neal), to finally sell the house. John offers it to the town for $50,000 cash; an offer the township is eager to accept as the now abandoned, yet well cared for, house is a magnet for, according to the chief of police, “prowlers, burglars, kids, they’re the worst!”

Naturally, one stipulation in John selling the house is that he’s also allowed to stay there while the sale is going through. (Stay with his mistress, Ingrid (Astrid Heeren). ‘Cuz really, why would you want to stay in a modern hotel when you could be staying in a mansion that’s been sitting abandoned for 20-30 years. Who needs heating or electricity?

John’s the film’s second victim; meeting a gruesome end courtesy of an axe, along with his girlfriend/secretary. One nice touch is the killer leaves a crucifix in John’s bloody hand; to really driving home the fact that this is happening on Christmas Eve. The killer then picks up the phone to alert both the police and the mayor that trouble’s afoot at the old Butler place.

While all these scenes are being manically intercut, we also learn that there’s recently been an escape from the local insane asylum. Creating just the right amount of tension in the audience, as it’s truly hard to figure out whether the newly returned Jeffrey Butler is the killer or not.

Like Superman, Jeffrey’s never around when the killing’s going down. Though I’d guess that starting a massacre while your house is up for sale could only drive the asking price down. Though if Jeffrey is the killer, then he’s also certified insane, which would make his plan plausible in a “well, he’s crazy enough to believe it would work” kind of way.

Talk about having a bad night. Jeffrey spends the movie trying to visit his inherited house. Yet every time he makes an attempt, something happens. First he, along with traveling companion/mayor’s daughter, Diane Adams (Mary Woronov), runs across Wilfred’s grave, now decorated with a cop’s corpse. Hours later, he tries again, only to clip and kill a pedestrian while driving down an unlit road.

Which effectively makes poor Jeffrey a killer, even if he’s not the killer.

Have you ever seen the film Hollywood Babylon? When Jeffrey finds his grandfather’s hidden journal explaining his family’s shameful history, it’s visualized using sepia-toned footage. Which brings to mind the Fatty Arbuckle rape sequence for some strange reason.

Adding to the creepiness is the lead inmate’s Manson-esque likeness. A nice touch, even if, coming 70 minutes into the film, it arrives way too late.

It turns out that Jeffrey’s, Mary Anne, had been institutionalized. Wilfred then had second thoughts about locking up his flesh and blood, so he freed all the patients in order to make up for it. Inmates who, unsurprisingly, go on the warpath and slaughter everyone. All to the tune of “Silent Night;” Merry Christmas!

In all fairness, the journal does claim that Mary Anne was mistreated by the doctors. However all we can see in the blurry and poorly lit footage shown is the doctors drinking wine at a dining table; which I believe even medical experts are still allowed to do.

Somehow in his haste to escape, Wilfred left Mary Anne in the hands of the inmates, who slaughtered her too. Driving him insane, so insane that he created a crazy sounding will, faked his own death by setting a squatter on fire, and travelled the countryside as a batshit insane murderer. All while the other, real, inmates grew up to become prominent community figures such as newspaperman Bill Towman (John Carradine), and the mayor.

Towman steals every scene he’s in, only communicating via a bell. Any time he feels the need to interject in a conversation, he just rings the bell! Everyone then stares at him in disgust, before continuing on with whatever they were arguing about prior to the interruption.

Sadly the filmmakers don’t capitalize on this stunning portrayal by filling every scene with crazily inspired performances. Instead we’re stuck with tons of shots too dark to make out any action, and characters wondering why no one’s returning from the Butler estate? Perhaps they should go there alone to find out?

Painfully bad. If you ever find yourself unable to sleep Christmas Eve, this film will provide you with a natural, cinematic cure to your insomnia.