Author Archives: Hud

The Vegan Voorhees Pre-Halloween Horrorfest Part II

With Groupie down I turned my attention to The Collector, as sent to me by the folks at Lovefilm. Now, I wasn’t sure if I’d even count this as a slasher film for much of the running time but I guess it adheres enough to the general opus, even if I’m totally against seeing animals killed on film. Disapprovingly, while it’s a pretty good flick, I’ve not a lot to say about it…

THE COLLECTOR

3 Stars  2009/18/87m

“He always takes one.”

Director: Marcus Dunstan / Writers: Patrick Melton & Marcus Dunstan / Cast: Josh Stewart, Michael Reilly Burke, Andrea Roth, Madeline Zima, Karley Scott Collins, Juan Fernandez, William Prael, Daniella Alonso, Alex Feldman.

Body Count: 8


Heavily debted ex-con Arkin works honestly by day in construction and moonlights as a thief. When working on the home of a rich jeweller and his family – who are about to go away for a few days – Arkin sees an opportunity to meet the deadline of a loan shark and sneaks into the house after hours to break into the safe.

Unfortunately, not only does it seem that somebody else is in the house, but said somebody has the family captive and is intent on torturing them to death, thwarting any escape attempts with numerous well-thought-out traps around the place. Yes, it’s Home Alone by Jigsaw.

What ensues for a while is a tense game out cat and mouse between Arkin and the hooded killer – The Collector – until the kind-hearted thief decides to try and help the family, if no one else than their pre-teen daughter Hannah, who is hiding somewhere, with whom he struck up a rapport earlier in the day.

Naturally, the killer’s pre-set traps are all used and all of them work exactly as they should, to squish, skewer, snap and slash the family members, a boyfriend and anybody else who happens by. Nothing is shown that is not used in some way and when the killer is more hands-on, luck is always on his side when spinning a blade at some more schmuck. But there is success in the potrayal of the killer – he’s a genuinely unsettling fellow with eyes that, when caught at the right angle, glow green like when you take a picture of your dog. He has no particular motive and it’s not even clear what his purpose is, to kill or ‘just’ torture?

Now, the ranty bit…

It would be hypocritical to denounce a film for being too brutal when you make a habit of watching and blogging about them but The Collector, like some of the scenes in, say, Hostel: Part II, goes further than what I’d find entertaining. Gruesome ways to kill people – fine, this does share some production credits with the Saw franchise – but the prolonged suffering of people and animals isn’t where I want to get my kicks and, like it or not, there are people who get off to that kinda stuff, it’s a losing argument to say otherwise.

Adam Green made the point at FrightFest that horror fans are often viewed as weird or sick in some way prior to the premiere of Hatchet II but comparing the cartoon violence of that film to a domestic cat pretty much melting into an acidic composite is pointless – you can laugh at the stupidity of Victor Crowley taking out two burly guys with a phallic chainsaw but at recreations of genuine pain – blecch. Even the quote from Gorezone on the front is worrying: “Good, twisted fun.” Good and tense as parts of The Collector were, there was absolutely nothing fun about it.

One final weird thing was the presence of Madeline Zima as the teenage daughter, Jill. She played the little girl in the a fore mentioned The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. In the same way Danielle Harris grew up from her little kid role in the Halloween sequels to go topless in Rob Zombie’s remake, it feels a bit perverse to see Zima disrobed here, able to remember clearly her squawking “you’re not my Mommy!” at Rebecca DeMornay what feels like only a few years back…

OK rant bit done with.

This will NOT end well…

Some pro’s: Stewart is a good, charismatic lead and Marcus Dunstan directs more than competently, creating a decent amount of tension in the opening sequence that poses some questions that may or may not be totally answered.

I’d say The Collector is more of an experience than a piece of escapist horror like a Friday the 13th sequel. Pushing the boundaries has been key to the success of several recent entries in the is-it/isn’t-it torture porn sub-set but even just a hint of a happy ending might’ve made this one more bearable. Let’s see some ass-kicking of the psycho rather than cowering and shrieking victims. What little it does give you isn’t enough to satisfy the counter balance that makes your more regular slasher flick a fun viewing experience – the bit where the final girl turns the tables. Yeah, I said I’d finished ranting already. OK, cut.

Blurbs-of-interest: Daniella Alonso was in Wrong Turn 2: Dead End. Michael Reilly Burke played Ted Bundy in, uh, Ted Bundy.

The Vegan Voorhees Pre-Halloween Horrorfest Part I

I’m celebrating Halloween a couple of days early. Why, you snap? Well, a day off work and the absence of VeVo’s love-toy (who can’t be doing with all the grue) means today is the best possible window for some much needed viewing of my growing stack o’ horror flicks…

So, it’s just after 10am – teeth clean, showered, dog walked – let’s slide in the first flick…

GROUPIE

2.5 Stars  2010/80m

“She’ll take care of the band.”

Director: Mark Lester / Writer: Dana Dubovsky / Cast: Taryn Manning, Hal Ozsan, Eric Roberts, Scott Anthony Leet, Betsy Rue, Bevin Prince, Danny Arroyo, Mitch Ryan, Michael Teh.

Body Count: 8

Dire-logue: “Did I pull my face out of a cow’s arse or something?”


Horror movies about rock bands were numerous in the 1980s – devil worship through their satanic music n’ all that stuff or the members of a hair metal group and their entourage being stalked and slain by some maniac. Groupie is the first in some time to go down this path, save for, perhaps Slash (where the band went to a farm for some reason) or The Choke (where I can’t remember why they were being killed).

Rockers The Dark Knights are rumoured to carry a curse after one of their shows results in a pyrotechnic accident that, in turn, causes a stampede and a reveller is killed.

The band’s comeback tour is now under pressure to deliver both an album and some satisfied patrons, the latter proving a problem as introspective lead singer Travis is dead against repeating the fire trick that caused the death before. Things seem to be going otherwise okay – there’s ample Coke and shitloads of girls willing to flash their tits – until new groupie Riley turns up and people start to die.

A publicist disappears and a rival groupie (Betsy Rue) for Travis’s affections is soon found face down in a hotel swimming pool. The tour manager (Roberts) wants all groupies out of the picture but Travis buys into Riley’s talent for creating molds of faces and creating masks – perfect for the cover of the CD.

Thus, Groupie begins to show more in common with the 90s mental-woman movement which churned out The Hand That Rocks the CradleSingle White Female et al, settling in the end as the perfect partner for something like Devil in the Flesh, as Riley will, it seems, do just about anything to get rid of anyone standing between her and Travis – including the rest of the band.

Turns out, of course, that the dead concert teen was her lil bro and now she wants vengeance – so death comes by knife, pre-planned electrocution and the plaster cast mush that Riley uses the make the molds, seducing the band members into letting her tie them up and apply it.

As is so common in this era, things start better than they end. Acting and production are neatly above average and the scenario is, for the moment, believable. Once Riley is revealed as looney toon things go all Fatal Attraction for the exegesis to the anti-climactic but at least un-twisted ending. It’s worth a once over but, like most groupies, will probably be forgotten about in the morning.

Blurbs-of-interest: Betsy Rue was in both My Bloody Valentine 3D and (Rob Zombie’s) Halloween II. Director Lester was executive producer on Tobe Hooper’s The Funhouse and also produced Devil’s Prey and The Wisher.

Teenage Dirtbags

ALL THE BOYS LOVE MANDY LANE

2.5 Stars  2006/18/87m

“Everyone is dying to be with her. Someone is killing for it.”

Director: Jonathan Levine / Writer: Jacob Forman / Cast: Amber Heard, Anson Mount, Whitney Able, Michael Welch, Edwin Hodge, Aaron Himelstein, Luke Grimes, Melissa Price.

Body Count: 7


The popular, not very nice kids at a high school invite Mandy Lane to a pool party because all the boys lust after her. She takes her friend Emmet with her and he is blamed when an asshole jock tries to impress Mandy by leaping into the pool from the roof of the house, fatally hitting his head on the concrete as he goes.

Nine months later, the popular, not very nice kids invite Mandy Lane away for a weekend at a remote ranch because all the boys still lust after her.

Emmet is no longer a friend so it’s just Mandy, a Barbie-wannabe and her limpet friend, Marlin, who Barbie keeps calling fat, and the boys: Jake, Bird, and rich boy Red. Stupid names for stupid, unlikeable teenagers. Let’s hope they all die.

What’s amusing is that, despite the boys’ lame ass attempts to impress Mandy, she only has eyes for grizzly farmhand Garth (Mount). So the kids pass the time in the usual ways, flirting, snorting coke, drinking loads before they begin splitting off for various reasons. Thankfully, the ostracised Emmet has followed the group to the ranch and answers our prayers by proceeding to kill, Kill, KILL the dreadful brats.

Come daybreak, the group’s attempts to escape are continually thwarted by shotgun-wielding Emmet, who shoots some, stabs others and forces one chick to perform a sort of blowjob on the barrel of the rifle.

With a reported budget south of a million dollars, All the Boys was a festival regular for awhile before being picked up for international distribution but only ever gained a limited release nearly two years after it was made. Reviews were mixed, strange considering the film’s resistance to entertain in favour of pretences of being some form of higher art, thanks largely to the grainy photography and ‘topical’ resolution once the requisite twist is tossed into the machinery, sucking thick cloud-cover over the motive thanks to the charades of said twist.

The plot may have been the stuff of the golden era of slasher film but the fun-time kids who populated those flicks are all but gone, replaced by nasty backstabbers and absolutely no one worth rooting for. Even Mandy is as hollow as an abandoned warehouse, existing only to swish around like a Geisha with nothing particularly interesting to say and while she’s not slutty like the other two girls (one of whom pads out her bra and uses big-ass scissors on her ‘delicate undercarriage’ area), it’s difficult to discern what it is “all the boys” see in her beyond general aesthetic blah.

I got to see All the Boys on the big screen but it’s almost definitely a DVD flick and not one you’d rent for a horrorthon party – it doesn’t want to be a slasher film, but it is, and the fact that it thinks above its station kinda makes it a bit like the clique of high school kids it destroys: they think they’re great but, y’know, not everyone shares that opinion.

Yay!

Blurb-of-interest: Anson Mount was in Urban Legends: Final Cut; Amber Heard was in The Stepfather remake.

Volume of violence – ’tis a book on the slasher film

TEENAGE WASTELAND: THE SLASHER MOVIE UNCUT

J.A. Kerswell

In case you didn’t know, Justin Kerswell is the force behind Hysteria Lives!, about the biggest slasher devoted website around now Slasherpool has vanished quicker than a horny couple at Camp Crystal Lake.

I’ve been a casual acquaintance of his a few years: I gave him my VHS of Dead Girls, he scarred me with Satan’s Blade. We’re even. Weirdly, the author biog bit in the back of the book says that Justin is a vegan. And this is Vegan Voorhees. But I’m not a vegan, merely an animal-loving 85% vegetarian (for shaaame!) Weirder still, years ago he lived in Brighton, while I was out due west and then he moved due west and I moved to Brighton. I’m pretty sure if we ever met we might both drop dead in some Drew Barrymore Doppelgangy way.

Anyway, the book. “You should have written this!” my friend Lorna told me when she found my leafing through Teenage Wasteland a couple of weeks ago. Well…not really. As much as a slasher film geek I am, I’ve never committed fully to the cause. That’s to say, I’ve not picked up a lot of memorabilia aside from a handful of posters and my beloved Jason doll. Justin Kerswell, on t’other hand, could start a museum. Frankly, if I had all the posters, quads and lobby cards he does, I’d never be happy until I had enough walls to emblazon them on, dancing among them dementedly like that chick from To All a Goodnight.

Furthermore – and this is going to make me look lazy – there’s a few chapters devoted to the prototype era of the slasher film. Psycho, fine. Peeping Tom, great. And then it goes into the Italian giallo ouevre. Being part Italian I should rightly be proud of this kind of heritage but it’s practically alien to me. I couldn’t do it. So no, Lorna, I could not have written this.

What impresses most about Teenage Wasteland is the product itself: the book is beautiful. The covers fold out to reveal pristine recreations of posters for Friday the 13th (at the front) and Terror Train (at the back); there are numerous foreign and domestic prints, almost all of it’s in colour and it’s as stunning as a Kevin Spirtas calendar.

It’s so great that there’s some tomes on the genre now, coming from my hazy early days of addiction in the 90s where there was nothing but a few scathing mentions in almanacs and the Dika and Clover academic texts, I genuinely believed nobody else watched these films. With comparative ease Teenage Wasteland outperforms the competition just by the nature of its evident love for it.

Criticisms? None really – OK so I noticed a typo – it’s a journal of a love affair between man and film. Suffice to say, after this the world doesn’t need another overview of the genre’s golden years. What could it possibly say that hasn’t been touched on here? A guide to shot-on-video films? Ugh. Perhaps in a decade or so’s time it’ll be right for a retrospective on Scream and its disciples but I think I’m gonna stick with fiction, that way I can be lazy and blame it on art!

Stock Background Characters 101: Nerds, Geeks & Dorks

In this feature, we examine the lesser beings of the slasher movie realm, which, if you’re making your own slasher film, could provide a good cast roster for you.

No killer or final girl profiles here, this is a celebration of those underlings who made the most of their fleeting flirtation with stardom. And usually died.

This month sees the turn of NERDS, GEEKS & DORKS

nerds1aNow, before we start, is there a difference between Nerds, Geeks and Dorks? To my understanding, a geek is a cool nerd, like I’m a slasher film geek, right? A dork is anybody who just acts like an idiot but in an inoffensive way. Geeks and dorks can apparently be handsome and socially active whereas nerds combine the former attributes and are textbook bespectacled, socially inadequate as well as being mentally and physically feeble. Feel free to provide your own reading of these terms.

Overview: In the slasher movie realm, these people are almost as short-lived as slutty cheerleaders and horny jocks but they are normally killed off fairly early on as, in true stereotypical slasher film form, they’re not as pretty to look at as the others.

Nerds, Geeks and Dorks are more often than not male (with a few recent exceptions) and can sometimes double as the joker or the prankster. Look at bubble-permed Shelly in Friday the 13th Part III – he’s the practical joke master but also essentially one big dweeb. Dweeb! That’s another one!

Let’s also remember that some slasher films chronicle the revenge of a nerd scorned. Slaughter High and Terror Train are two prime examples of this, but it crops up in other films from the UK’s Tormented to Korean pastiche Record.

Linguistic Snapshot: “You guys only invited me here this weekend so I’d do your term papers for you! I know it! Well, if I weren’t scared of the dark and had my inhaler, I’d walk right outta here now, through the creepy woods to the car and call my Mom to come and get me!”

Styling: Like last month’s Black Girl with Attitude, the slasher film trades on stereotyping to create shortcuts to its character identification. Therefore, our High-IQ’d friends almost always have glasses that, like Velma in Scooby Doo, they cannot see without. Basic bland clothing and styleless hair are also common and they’re always skin and bone.

Hallmarks: Virginity fully intact, Nerds, Geeks and Dorks may be at the top of the academic tree but they’re unfairly relegated to the bottom of the social strata, lucklessly after the girl they have no chance in hell with. See: Linderman in Freddy vs. Jason, Leonard in Prom Night III, or even Maddy in Friday VII for a girl-geek reversal of the cliche.

Downfall: An unquenched yearning for social acceptance can be fatal for the nerd when invited on a weekend away or miraculously scoring a date with the final girl… In the Friday series, Maddy, Wayne (Part VIII), Eddie (Part VII) and Jake (Part V) are all betrayed by love very shortly before they check out for good. Alfred in Happy Birthday to Me was after the heroine’s heart and instead got shears in the belly and comically-camp campus nerd Radish was anxious to warn Courtney of the inclement danger in Final Exam when he met his maker.

It is worth noting a couple of exceptions to the rule here, in the scarily similar Friday the 13th Part 2 and The Burning from 1981, both the nerds lived another day. In the former, Ted simply wisely decides not to head back to camp and saves himself whereas Alfred in The Burning (played by practical career film nerd Brian Backer) becomes that rare Final Boy, in spite of the fact that the kid’s a Peeping Tom and has a generally creepy aura about him. Later, girl geek Ellie managed to survive the fatalities that plagued Sorority Row.

Pervy nerd, Girl geek, and

Pervy nerd, Girl geek, and Devious dork

Genesis: Early nerds weren’t coded so strongly as such: Ed in Terror Train and Slick in Prom Night were more like dorks, treated as mere expendables in both films, they were done away with quite mercilessly. Soon after, Hell Night gave us creepy little prankster Scott, another bespectacled nerd who is unliked by many and clearly used by the fraternity president as the brains of the operation.

By the mid-80s, films were liberally peppered with know-alls, horny dorks and weaklings, all lined up for the chop along with their more commonplace high school classmates.

In the 90s, however, we arrived at the shores of Randy, Scream‘s all-knowing film geek who, while virginal and kinda repulsive to all females in the vicinity, not only survived the film (returning for the sequel) but became a fan favourite for his rule breaking (nerd rules, not horror film rules) and geek became chic.

Randy: The changing face of the horror geek

Subsequently, dorks and geeks became a bit more involved and assigned some good lines here and there: Billy O’ played such characters in both Lovers Lane and Shredder, stealing much affection from the main characters in the latter and Chewie in the Friday the 13th reboot was even crowbarred into the Asian nerd subset but still managed to evoke more interest and empathy than his non-dimensional cookie cutter friends.

Legacy: There have been a couple of films where the final girl is a sort of nerd herself. Back Slash comes immediately to mind and when you think about it even Laurie Strode was a bookish nobody of sorts but these attributes often serve her better than male counterparts, who are far too preoccupied with equations or covert masturbating to notice the presence of the masked psycho.

Still, I’d like to see a killer take on a real group of nerds who think about logical, smart ways to prevent him from killing them. You could cast all manner of computer nerds, Dungeons & Dragons role-playing dorks and off-the-chart-smart academics to pit their advantageous wits against a blade-toting loon. Hmmm… good idea that.

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