The Fisher King (HEAVY SPOILERS)

Josh: I'm angry. I know I shouldn't be, I know that depression is a vicious monster and something that cannot necessarily be tempered or controlled. That being said I see these thousands of pictures of Robin Williams' smiling face flooding the internet today and I get so fucking angry at him that I want to scream until my throat is raw and bleeding. While intellectually I completely understand that depression is not a choice and it can insidiously lead people to believe that suicide is their only way out I still can't seem to stop myself from wanting to blame him for leaving us.

Months ago, Gabby and I decided to write a column on what our friends at F This Movie call exploding heart movies, movies that fill you with such passion and joy that it overwhelms you. I had chosen to write about The Fisher King and The Majestic, but I hope Frank Darabont forgives me for pushing The Majestic aside for the moment because I need to talk about The Fisher King right now. Life got in the way of putting the column together, I started a new job with a more demanding schedule than I had before and I could never quite get the bat off my shoulder when it came time to step up and start writing. Last night, I got punched in the heart by the news of Robin Williams' suicide and Gabby and I spoke about how we've both been haunted by images of The Fisher King since.

The Fisher King is a fable, a story of love and hope and friendship conquering everything else in their way. It's not for all tastes (I believe F This Movie's Patrick referred to it as "too squishy" which is absolutely valid) but it's not even just a movie to me. It's magic. I cry every time I watch it, not from sadness, but from the pure joy it makes me feel. SO MUCH of that joy comes from the performance of Robin Williams as Parry, a homeless "knight" on a quest. There's that expression about wearing one's heart on their sleeve, Williams' performance is all one big, open, beating heart. Parry is a man who went through an impossible tragedy and came out the other side seemingly damaged beyond repair, but his quest is one of healing first and foremost. Williams' performance is, for my money, the best he ever gave. Funny, noble, vulnerable, fearless, and achingly, heartwrenchingly sad. Who knew how real a place that performance came from before today? So many images from it have been floating through my head today, mostly of the Red Knight, a delusion that tortures Parry, chasing him through the city, relentlessly hounding him so he can't find peace even when things start going his way.

Gabby, what images have been haunting you?

Gabby: So many bits from this movie keep coming to me I am finding it hard just to pick one. I know I have to re-watch it but this experience will be heartbreaking. This movie is something I find truly moving and in light of recent events it just got even more so. I will go then to the scene where the film gets its title. The tale of the Fisher King, Parry tells Jack. A story of a King who loses all faith in those around him and even himself, 'He couldn't love, or feel loved. He was sick with experience. He began to die'. The thing that saves him from his pain is a fool who reaches for a cup to quench the King's thirst and hands him the holy grail, which the King was mourning the loss of. This story is used throughout the film but especially when Jack fights to  get what Parry thinks is the grail, when he is catatonic. The grail becomes a symbol in this moment for how much Jack has come to care about Parry, and how he is truly sorry for what he has done. The love Jack shares for Parry in this moment I think is what manages to wake him up. Parry feels comfortable with sharing the grief of losing his wife. His demons when shared are not chasing him and crippling him, the way they are when the Red Knight turns up.

Unfortunately Robin Williams didn't find that soothing drink in real life. He felt the same as the King, he felt the life and love for it fall away. There is a shot just before the Red Knight turns up after his first date with Lydia. There is a crane shot that makes him seem so small.  It comes closer to him as he seems to be wriggling in pain and then he seems so fearful when that knight shows up, and so are we. The hope has gone when this knight is there. Even though it seems Parry has schizophrenia, he has a similar battle to Depression in the fact that events of the past are affecting his present day life, which are pulling him down into a scary and dark place that seems impossible to get out of. Robin lost his battle with that Knight. And we can all feel sad or even mad. It is understandable. But I think the most important thing is to keep spreading awareness about Depression and mental health issues. So that we can handle these illnesses better as a society. It is so tragic for someone to die of anything. But when it is suicide I think it makes us feel how desperate and awful he must have felt to do that.  It took Parry to be at breaking point for Jack to take him to get the right help. We can't let it get this far. We have to start learning and being better towards people who have it. No more bullshit about 'Perk up' or 'What have you got to be so sad about when there's starving children in the world?' This has to stop. Parry's pain is real. And so was Robin's.

One scene that I haven't mentioned yet is the ending where Jack sees how much life has to offer him now as he is surrounded by things he loves and he is able to feel hope. What are your feelings on that moment?

Josh: Before we take on the end, I just want to back up to what you said a bit before that about "perk up" and such. Someone (and I wish I could remember who it was) tweeted something along the lines of "asking someone suffering from depression 'what are you so depressed about?' is akin to asking 'what are you so diabetic about?'" and I think that's a perfect encapsulation of what so many people don't understand about depression.

As for that ending, right now I'm angry about it. I'm angry about it because for the last 23 years it has filled me with hope and now that hope feels like a lie. I'm angry because I love Jack and Parry, I love them like people who have been part of my life for 23 years, and right now I feel betrayed by them, betrayed by that ending. There are so many parallels to be drawn between Parry as a character and Robin Williams as a man that I'm finding it difficult to separate them right now. I'm certain that's unfair of me, but I can't help it. The wound is too fresh, I feel like I'm bleeding all over my keyboard just thinking about it.

I don't know that I have much more I can say about it at the moment. I want to feel that hope again, I want to feel that immeasurable joy that this masterpiece has always brought me (along with the light dusting of melancholy that coats every frame) but I don't know when I'll be ready to face it again. I hate that I feel that way, normally when I celebrity I love dies I'll watch a movie of theirs to celebrate their life but I tried to listen to Robin Williams' A Night at the Met last night and all it made me feel was anger and pain. I can't even fathom facing Parry again. I don't know how.

Gabby: I can understand what you are feeling. It is such a complex issue. Of course though, the hope that Parry gets in the final moments of the film I see as even more beautiful now. It makes me well up just thinking about it. The happiness and the joy he feels in that moment lets him feel a relief from all the pain he has been through. But it doesn't mean that it has disappeared. We have ups and downs and bumps along the way. Some people unfortunately have worse lows than others. It doesn't mean however that the way they saw the world for the entirety of their lives is the same as the way they saw it in the end. Parry likes New York in June, and I bet Robin appreciated it as many times as he felt hollow and empty to it. For some reason my mind has travelled back to when I was lucky enough to sit in on a lecture with Al Alvarez. He was very close to Sylvia Plath. He talked about his feelings about her suicide and his feelings of anger and hurt. He also had a complex frustration towards her husband Ted Hughes. He talked though of her life, and her ability to see the beauty in the world around her as well as her fierce intelligence and empathy for others. She appreciated the small things in nature as well as the larger moments in life. Her life was full of laughter as well as tears. I think that gave me a lot of perspective on my feeling towards so many people who I admire who killed themselves. Even though it is tragic they were so desperate towards the end of the lives, it doesn't make their road to that any less colourful. It is so desperately sad and grey at the end of their lives but Robin was so loved by many people. Those who met him speak of what a brilliant, loyal and special person he was. He loved and laughed and even though he couldn't pull through like Parry could, maybe he can live on with that hopeful lighter ending he was given through films such as singing 'I love New York in June' surrounded by people he loves.

Josh: I hope you're right. Dear god, I hope you're right.

Gabby: The film has been strongly influenced by Disney’s Pinocchio. Jack even holds a Pinocchio doll. The film has the same fairy tale parallels, such as mixing that sense of wonder and hope with some scary and vulnerable moments for the protagonists that help them learn morally valuable lessons along the way. I think that sense of Pinocchio’s journey can also be seen in Jack’s. He learns the value of others and the world around him beyond himself and his own ego. He becomes a real boy, the pure of heart, thanks to finding connections, friends and things that he believes in that allow him to be redeemed of his previous attitudes and behaviours to the world around him. Some of the strongest elements of the film are the themes of redemption and friendship. Can you comment on how you feel about Jack at the beginning of the film and his slow journey to letting other people in?

Josh: It's weird how perspective changes as you get older. It was Jack's journey that I was focused on when I first saw the movie. He was based quite a bit on Howard Stern (era) and hearing about that was what drew me to the movie in the first place. I was a huge fan of Stern in 1991 (still am) and knowing that Jack was partially a representation of him made me curious. I love the "Jack Lucas Show" Jack that we meet at the beginning, I felt almost immediately in tune with his sensibility, and as the film progressed and he "became a real boy" as you so eloquently put it I was completely invested in that journey, I wanted to see him grow. I was glad to see him grow. As I've gotten older, I find my focus shifting more toward Parry and his pursuit of peace and forgiveness. Even though Jack is the more down-to-earth of the two, Parry strikes me as much more real these days.

Gabby: I also love Anne and Lydia. There are shades to them that stop them from being just stock characters that so many female characters are in Hollywood movies. To wrap up I wanted to quickly go back to what we were saying about Depression. It is simple really, if people could stop being sick they would. That illness is horrible and hard as well as chemical. The film shows this so well. If we ignore the pain and pretend it's not there like Parry tries to do it will catch up with us. If we try and bury it we can end up shutting the world out, like Jack at the beginning, as we feel so misunderstood by those around us. The best option is try, as Jack does at the end, to be supportive and understanding. Just listen and try not to judge. I feel that is another thing which makes this movie special. There is no judgement towards the characters. It just feels like it is embracing the characters and that is so important for mental health issues in our culture. Embracing others and trying to understand them rather than making them feel worse. I hope we get more of it in the future.

Josh: I thoroughly agree, I also agree about Anne & Lydia, especially Lydia. It would have been so easy for her to be unlikable but Amanda Plummer finds a humanity in her that is truly lovely. Thank you for suggesting we do this, Gabby. It's been cathartic. Hopefully soon the pain will fade and we'll be singing that everything's coming up videos.

There's A Snake In Our Boots!

Gabby: Josh and I take to twitter for the second time as we dive into the world of Pixar to discuss Toy Story 3. Since we talked about a British movie last time, representing my side of the pond and well selected by Josh, I thought it would be interesting to switch sides and pick a modern American classic. Toy Story 3 offers so much to chew over it seemed like an exciting prospect. As we marveled at the level of detail and the quality of the animation, we were also struck by the themes that are at the heart of the series.

Josh, do you think of Woody as a representative for some of these themes such as loyalty and friendship?

Josh: I think all the characters represent those themes, I don't think there's anyone (at least in the main group of toys) who isn't fiercely loyal. Even Mr. Potato Head, snarky as he is, is devoted to Andy and to the other toys. Part of what I love about this series is that even though it has so much heart, it's not afraid to look at how difficult it can be to wear your heart on your sleeve and need others the way all of the toys need each other. Almost everything that happens in all 3 movies is driven by the desire for loyalty and friendship and no matter how dark things get (and hoo boy, do they get dark!) it's that very same loyalty and friendship that saves the day.

Let's talk a bit about our history with these movies, I was 19 or 20 when the first was released, so by my math I believe that means you were...let's just say closer to the age of the intended audience. For me, I was at an age where childhood toys had (for the most part) been gone for some time, did you see the first Toy Story when it was released? If so, do you remember how you felt about it then?

Gabby: I was just a bit too young for the first Toy Story when it came out (I was five, sorry Josh) and I remember being terrified of Sid and having nightmares of those toys coming to get me. But I also remember that I was a child who was very happy to believe that her toys were real, so this movie was so great to me as it tapped into that wish. I think the tone of the movie does hold a lot of hope for imagination, which really connected with me. The movie that really sold me on Toy Story was the second one. I completely fell in love with the characters, particularly Jessie. I had it on video and started memorising Jessie's lines of dialogue and of course started to sing a long in that heartbreaking 'When she loved me' scene. I still have a huge affection for her, she is what I wanted to be I think: ballsy, brave, no nonsense with huge amounts of energy and perseverance. In the third film she is such an essential element of that group and I think Joan Cusack was perfect casting. It was through DVD I began to realise how great the first movie is as well. When I saw the third movie at the cinema I felt like these movies were a big part of my childhood and it was very emotional for me by the end. I think the audience felt exactly the same way, even though we were all different ages I could feel everyone around me crying as well. Did you get to see the third film at the cinema?

I think you're right about all of the toys showing friendship and loyalty. They work so well as a team. In the third film though, the other toys lose faith in Andy, whilst still very loyal to each other. This is understandable as they have been in affect abandoned by him, which brings me onto asking about the fear of abandonment and isolation that runs throughout the series, how do you think this fear relates to childhood fears?

Josh: I wish it ONLY related to childhood fears! I don't know if that fear of abandonment and isolation ever really fades, I think it just moves around from parents to kids to spouses/significant others. During the movie we were talking about the deep well of sadness that all 3 of these draw from, and it fascinates me that they balance joy and melancholy as well as they do.

You were 5? Bear with me a moment, I have to go die of old age. Ok, I'm back, but now I'm a ghost. You can tell because Ray Parker, Jr. ain't afraid of me. Anyway, I was lucky enough to see all 3 in the cinema (a British term, but I love the sound of it so I'm keeping it). I saw the first two when they were first released, and then again in a triple-feature post-converted to (pointless) 3D on opening day of the third. The 3D added nothing (except to the ticket price) but it was a treat to see them all in a row in a crowded theater. The scene you mentioned, Jessie's song, makes me cry every time and there I was, a man in his mid-thirties in a theater full of kids, crying like I had just lost my own favorite toy. I can only imagine how it must have felt to grow up with these characters.

I remember after seeing 2 for the first time being shocked that they stuck the landing so well. I thought they couldn't possibly follow up the original well, I had braced myself for the soulless cash-in that kids movie sequels tend to be. When the third was on its way I thought there couldn't be any way that they could keep up that level of quality, but Pixar proved me wrong again. I love all 3 movies, and that's incredibly rare, especially for a series designed for kids. Obviously you have a similar affection for these movies, did the quality of each successive entry take you by surprise as well? Also, would you welcome a fourth chapter or would that make you apprehensive?

Gabby: Soon you'll be speaking like a true Brit Josh, a ghost Brit that is. These movies do hold such a fantastic balance of wonder and pain, sometimes seen within the same beat. That is notoriously hard to pull off and they do it so often throughout the series. Even on this viewing of Toy Story 3 the tears were flowing. We were drawing parallels with the the relationship the toys have with their owners and a child's relationship to their parents, which makes the fear of abandonment and isolation really resonate with us as viewers. You mentioned this in relation to the absence of Andy's dad could you elaborate on that a bit?

I am amazed by the quality of this series, they seemed to top themselves with each film. Not only in terms of animation but also the ability to shift tone and mix genre influences. Take the opening sequences at the start of each film, by the time we come to the third one it is like its own crazy sci-fi western with elements of comedy and still has the dimensional lovable characters at the core of the story. Those opening sequences actually give me faith in the Toy Story franchise outside of these three movies. If they were going to continue the series I do have faith it would be something special as I think they hold these films particularly close to their hearts, especially considering as the first one was also their first full length feature. Toy Story of Terror is a good example that they still have a hold on these characters and boy do they know how to build suspense! As I mentioned the opening sequence of Toy Story 3, I wanted to ask you what do you think is so special about it? Is that it captures the mix of tones we have been discussing as well as being a celebration of imagination? Or is that it really excites us for what we have in store for the rest of the film?

Josh: To answer your question about Andy's dad first, I just find it curious that a series of movies that deals so strongly in themes of abandonment and loyalty has as far as I can remember never mentioned Andy's father, even in passing. I'm not saying it means the father must have abandoned the family, it's just curious and I wonder if it was a conscious choice by the filmmakers (especially for such finely detailed movies) or if it was just a way to streamline the movies by dropping what may have been seen as an extraneous character.

As for those fabulous opening sequences, I look at those almost like the opening of the James Bond movies, big fun action beats that grab the audience's attention and tell you a lot about the characters without necessarily being tied to the overall plot of the movie. I also think you're spot-on about describing those sequences as a celebration of imagination, I love the way they (if you'll pardon the bad pun) toy with genre convention.

It's probably about time to wrap this up so I want to ask you one final question. As toys get more and more sophisticated, do you think kids might have trouble identifying with what they may see as old-fashioned toys the way that we can identify with them, or do you think there's a certain timelessness to these movies that will let them carry on, as they're fond of saying, to infinity and beyond?

Gabby: I agree, the movies are too finely detailed to assume anything other than that the absence of Andy's dad was a clear choice.  I think children will always love toys. No matter gadgets we have children will always want something to actually handle and cuddle. I think actually playing with them and holding them makes it more real than a playstation game when you're a certain age. Maybe children are growing up quicker in modern society but that doesn't mean they aren't ever young. I also think these movies are timeless for all the reasons we have been discussing. Those themes, the way the film expertly handles the mix of tone and genres as well as those incredibly lovable characters. All of these things assure the series a place in the hearts of many children to come.

The Golden Mile

Josh: The Atlantic Ocean can suck it. I say this because I, in Florida, just watched a movie with Gabby, in London. We hit play on Edgar Wright's The World's End at the same time and chatted our way through it via Twitter. To give a little background, Gabby is in her twenties, not too far removed from high school age, whereas I am in my late 30s, not far from the age of present-day Gary King. As you can probably imagine, this makes this particular movie somewhat of a different beast for each of us.

Gabby, I've written and we've talked a bit about my relationship with this movie due to the way I often found myself clinging to the past. As someone who is a bit closer to high school and who wasn't terribly fond of her experiences at that age, what do you think of Gary King? Do you find yourself rooting for him or do you feel like he's pining for things that are better left behind?

Gabby: I think the film does a great job of setting Gary up. When you see him telling the story that kicks the film off to members of a group in a circle, I took that to mean that he was receiving some kind of therapy. That gave me an instant connection to him and I think it is something that really informs Simon Pegg's performance, which is a magnificent one as you can really get that sense of pain and vulnerability hidden beneath that indestructible exterior. I also believe that it is easy enough for people to say things are better left behind you, but that is incredibly hard in practice. Gary King has clung onto this idea of himself that has haunted him throughout his adult life, if he could have let go of that I'm sure he would have done. I know I would love to let go of my past, but I can't. You can't just snap your fingers and move on, and I think that is why he clings to the idea of going back so intensely. He has lived in the shadow of that vision of himself that he never lived up to. Now he wants to complete something that he believes will give him the chance to go back and relieve that sense of glory but also to top that figure of himself. That definitely gives him a depth and humanity, which is what I love in movie characters. It also makes him a character I can relate to.

How do you feel about Gary King and what is it about the nature in which Gary clings to the past makes this film so resonant for you?

Josh: I think you hit the proverbial nail on the proverbial head talking about the pain behind his exterior. When I first moved down to Florida I clung to everything from my life in New York, the clothes, the music, anything that would make me feel like I hadn't left. Going back to visit a decade after I left I still wore my old black duster and such, going about like nothing had changed. Gary frightens me because it's almost like seeing myself as I might have been if I hadn't finally let go of the past. Pegg's performance is truly stunning, sad and funny all at the same time. What could have been a caricature feels lived-in and honest, a tremendously difficult feat to pull off.

You mentioned while we were watching it that you identified most strongly with Peter. What was it about Peter that you identify with, and do you feel it affects your feelings about the movie as a whole considering his fate?

Gabby: I think it is easy to see yourself going down a road like Gary's and I can identify with that pain inside him like you can, just in a different way. I think I can identify with Andy as well. Here comes Gary with the exterior of an idolised past, but Andy has to live with the all the pain Gary has tried to cage himself off from. Andy has had some huge knocks. I think Nick Frost puts in a fantastic performance here that shows the damage that did to Andy. I had an incident with someone who had an idolised view of the same place that made me incredibly miserable, it is very hard to be on the other side of that when your experience was so negative. When I saw this at the cinema, I had a few really strong emotional reactions and one of them was to Peter's speech after Shane asks him permission to take the stool. Shane had made Peter's life hell at school, and Shane didn't even recognise his existence. As well as showing that Shane has had no regrets with his previous behaviour, it also gives him the power. Shane has the same power over Peter in that moment that he did over him at school. Emotionally that puts Peter right back in the position he was, feeling victimised but also like he isn't even worthy of existing in this persons eyes. That really was a strong emotional punch for me. I was bullied to such an extent it still affects me today and I can't imagine how bad I would feel if I came face to face with one of the people that bullied me and they looked at me in a certain way or even looked right through me. That would really set me back. Even though I can relate to Peter's pain, my affection for this movie goes far beyond that, I love pretty much every beat in it!

Besides Gary, are there any characters that you can identify with?  We also discussed a moment of Gary's speech that really gets to you emotionally, can you share a bit more about that moment?

Josh: I wouldn't say I identify with him, exactly, but I definitely understand much of what Andy went through, feeling abandoned by the person who meant the most to him, as well as realizing that everything he thought that person was was based almost entirely on what was on the surface.

As for the moment that makes me break down every time, it's when Gary's mask finally slips and he admits that he doesn't want to be sober, that seeing the Golden Mile through to the bitter end (or lager end) is all he's got. To realize he's spent literally 20 years chasing the way he felt that one single night is heartbreaking, and says so much about the power of nostalgia over our lives.

I don't want this to go on too long, but I think it speaks to the power of these characters that throughout this exchange, we haven't talked explicitly about the sci-fi elements of the film. You and I spoke a bit about English pub culture and I'm curious to get your take on the body-snatching element of the movie as it relates to "Starbucking" and the homogenization of pubs where you are.

Gabby: I agree, that is a very powerful moment of the film. Talking of pub culture, it is very hard to strip a pub of its personality. Usually because of the age of the building. Even if a chain come in and buy it it still has been in that town for God knows how long. The wood smells a certain way and there is usually pictures up of the pub in the 1800s or even further back. Some have little plaques and portraits of people that lived there and it is hard to strip a place of that kind of vibe. There is this chain called Wetherspoons and they still keep the atmosphere, like a pub near where I am that used to be an old cinema, it has a magic movie vibe I just love. However, I feel there is a problem in the way coffee shops are going, two Starbucks in one street, that kind of thing. There was one Starbucks that was in a shop with real personalty and charm, of course that was the one of the three in town that had to close. I think we have to celebrate personalty! Otherwise what are we then? A place without culture or individuality, which leads to an easy parallel between that and body snatching. Mind you I live in a place where all you have to do is take a train, get out, wonder a little and you'll stumble upon something with personality. Hopefully more and more people will celebrate that and be able to have access things like that.

Josh: I can't even picture what a Starbucks with personality would look like. Around here the houses, the shops, the movie theaters, everything is very cookie-cutter. If the neighbors on either side of me turned out to be robots full of blue stuff, it would not be as surprising as one might think.

I think it's time to wrap this up, but I appreciate you taking the time to watch and discuss it with me. I say we meet up in 20 years and try to recapture it all over again. Let's Boo-Boo.

F This Movie Fest: The Aftermath

Twitter amazes me sometimes. Last night, just reading my regular feed, I saw a handful of film critics that I follow get into an argument. They began by sniping directly at each other, then arguing about what they each subtweeted about the others. It was ugly and I had no business reading it, yet there it was for all their thousands of followers to see. The complete lack of ugliness like that, public or otherwise, is a big part of why I find the F This Movie! community to be so tremendously appealing. At F This Movie! you never see that kind of thing. Earlier today, future Canadian Prime Minister Sol Ott said in a comment on one of today's postings, "even when we 'fight' it's the most civil thing ever" and he's absolutely right. That's exactly what I love about F This Movie! and the community they've built.

I was having a fairly lousy morning for lots of reasons, and then a few F-Heads got me entangled in a discussion about Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull of all things, and it completely turned my day around. The vibe of F This Movie Fest (I'm lucky to be Jewish, because F This Movie Fest is totally my Christmas) was alive and well in that conversation, and I'm grateful for how incredibly friendly and approachable all of my fellow F-Heads are.

For the one person reading this who is unfamiliar with F This Movie Fest (hi mom!), it's a Twitter-based film festival where people from around the globe gather online to watch 5 movies together, and to say it's fun is to undersell it an unbelievable amount. It really feels like we're all together, a genuine shared experience, and the vibe is so intensely positive that the buzz stays with you for hours afterward.

This is all just a long-winded way of saying thank you. Thank you to Patrick Bromley, the man behind F This Movie! and thank you to every single person who tweeted, those who are involved behind the F-scenes and those who aren't. I tried to follow everyone who tweeted, but if I missed you let me know and I'll follow. It's a pleasure to be part of such a fun, passionate, positive group of people, and I'm proud to be part of it. Thank you, everybody.

#FHead4Life

Scary Movie Month, Day 31: The Final Chapter

Halloween

My favorite moment in Halloween isn't a death scene (though "can't I get your ghost, Bob?" is pretty great), it's not a scare, it's not even a line of dialogue, it's the spectacular grin that Loomis gives after he scares the kids off the porch of the Myers house. Donald Pleasence just looks so perfectly pleased and thoroughly full of himself at that moment that it gives me a similar grin every single time.

I can't even tell you how many times I've seen this movie (or how many times I've bought it thanks to a seemingly infinite number of "special edition" releases on various formats) but man, it still works. It's so good I even forgive it the ultimate movie sin of killing a dog on screen (RIP Lester).

From the spare, frightening score to that horrifyingly blank Shatner mask, everything still works. The fact that the focus is on tension rather than gore certainly helps, but it's still a staggering achievement for a movie to still feel tense after countless viewings.

This was my first time watching the new 35th anniversary blu-ray and it's absolutely stunning, easily the best I've ever seen the movie look, maybe the best it's ever looked. It's far from a flawless movie, there's plenty of camera shadows, a puff of Carpenter's cigarette smoke from offscreen, lots of lush greenery for Illinois in the fall, California plates on all the cars, etc....but none of that matters at all. The movie casts a spell and it's exquisitely paced, practically tightening around the audience until we can barely breathe.

Thanks to everyone who's been following my Scary Movie Month ramblings. I've enjoyed writing them and chatting with a bunch of people about all the scary movies I've been watching. 16 of the 31 movies were new-to-me, which is a happy accident and exactly the balance I was hoping for. The only thing I love more than horror movies is discovering new horror movies to love, and I can already tell that a few of those 16 will be entering my rotation. Hell, I already can't wait to watch Dead & Buried again. Of course I don't confine my horror watching to only Scary Movie Month, but 11 months is still gonna be an awfully long wait until next Scary Movie Month.

Maybe I'll watch Halloween II tomorrow so the wait won't seem quite so long. Then Halloween III the next day. Then....

Scary Movie Month, Day 30

The Slumber Party Massacre

Rita Mae Brown is the author of a series of "cozy" mystery novels featuring a sleuthing cat named Mrs. Murphy. Her credited co-author on the series is her own cat, Sneaky Pie Brown. There are, to date, 21 novels in the Mrs. Murphy series which means that somebody must be reading the things. The reason I bring this up is because it thoroughly fascinates me that the writer of the detecting cat novels popular with grandmas nationwide is the same person who wrote this movie, a thoroughly sleazy and gratuitous wallow in depravity.

I mean "wallow in depravity" in the nicest respect, by the way. The movie follows a group of 30-year-old teenage girls who have a beer-and-pot-fueled slumber party and are (of course) stalked by an escaped lunatic with a phallic power drill. Brown originally wrote the movie as a parody of the then-current slasher craze, but producer Roger Corman (who else?) decided to take her screenplay and have it shot as a straightforward slasher flick. It's still mostly funny, you certainly won't find much (if anything) in the way of tension or scares but there's plenty of gore and nudity to keep the audience captivated for the scant 77 minute runtime.

I like the tone of the movie. While it's not the comedy it was originally envisioned as, it's still got a pleasantly subversive streak running through it along with an infectious sense of fun. There are two sequels (natch) and I'm looking forward to checking those out soon, I hope they're as odd and fun as this one. It's notable that all three movies in the series were written and directed by women (different women each time, too) which is an extreme rarity in any genre, much less one so often dismissed as misogynistic as horror. It's a refreshing change in theory, but in practice it only seems to inform us that women can write and direct sleazy exploitation just as well as men.

Scary Movie Month, Day 29

Munster, Go Home!

Boy oh boy, technicolor does not do the Munsters any favors. The sickly blue-green hue of all their faces (other than Marilyn, of course) is ugly and off-putting to the point where I considered turning down the color on my TV but I eventually decided to watch it as it was intended. It's refreshing to enjoy their antics without that horrendously grating laugh track, though, so I guess it's a somewhat worthwhile trade.

For their only theatrical foray, the Munsters head overseas to jolly old England when Herman is notified that he's Lord of Munster Hall. Once there they of course run afoul of scheming relatives (including the great Terry-Thomas, always a treat to watch) and wind up having to clear the family name in a drag race (don't ask).

Fred Gwynne has always been my favorite of the main cast (and the "Car 54, Where Are You?" joke was worth watching the whole movie for) but I've read that he had had enough of playing Herman due to the uncomfortable make-up and costumes. He was forever identified with Herman Munster and it's a shame, he was so great in so many other roles ("Sometimes dead is bettah") but never really seemed to get his due. The rest of the family is fine, though it's a new Marilyn for some reason.

Despite the exotic location it all plays out as an extended episode of the sitcom, especially considering it recycles quite a few jokes from the run of the series. It's funny (and Herman's race car, Dragula, is kind of the best) but it's a trifle, and it's easy to see why the Munsters didn't find new life on the big screen after the series ended.