Ganja & Hess, or: Don’t Cross Me

In terms of tone, this week’s film is about as far from last week’s Tales from the Hood 2 as possible while staying (more or less) in the horror genre. An independent art house film from the 1970s, there was never any chance Ganja & Hess would be franchised (though Spike Lee did remake it in 2014). Let’s at least try to follow along, shall we?

The Film:

Ganja & Hess

The Premise:

After he is stabbed 3 times with a dagger, anthropologist Dr. Hess Green gets a second chance to live…as a vampire.

The Ramble:

Don’t expect our film’s theme song to give you any spoiler warnings: it tells us right off the bat that there have always been creatures addicted to blood who roam the Earth. Many enslaved people were victims of this addiction, condemned to experience the life of a vampire (though this word is never used) until Christianity–specifically the shadow of the Cross–drives them away.

One such modern vampire is Dr. Hess Green, an anthropologist whose addiction to blood seems to be the only force that drives him. According to his driver, Reverend Luther Williams, Dr. Green is a victim. It was after Green’s former assistant Meda stabbed him three times with a ceremonial dagger that he became a vampire. Once Green rose from the dead, he craved Meda’s blood, spilled all over the bathroom floor after he killed himself.

Green’s new craving quickly escalates from hunger to need. Virtually everything Green does is to find and consume blood, whether that means absconding with bags of donated blood or bringing home strangers from bars.

That is, until Meda’s wife Ganja arrives with many questions about her husband’s whereabouts. It’s not long before she forgets all about her husband as she becomes Hess’s lover. Confusingly, it seems to be a minor setback when Ganja discovers her husband’s decomposing body. Concluding that Hess is psychotic, Ganja makes the obvious next move of…marrying him?

Hess decides quickly that he doesn’t want to live without Ganja, turning her into a vampire on their wedding night. Soon after, they “have a guest for dinner,” which involves both sex and murder.

Just as Ganja begins to embrace the vampire lifestyle, Hess starts to turn from it in favor of the church. Hmmmm…vampires and crucifixes. That can’t end well, right?

The Rating:

3/5 Pink Panther Heads

I must admit that overall…I don’t get it. The aesthetic is stunning, but the loose narrative structure makes for a confusing couple of hours. Apparently director Bill Gunn denounced the film as it was released because a new director was brought in to make major changes, including cutting it down to less than 80 minutes. And it’s difficult to blame the studio entirely; this is a challenging film to sell to an audience.

What is fascinating about the film is its commitment to its message. Gunn intentionally connects vampirism with slavery right from the start of the film so the themes of race and social justice frame everything that we experience as an audience. The film is in some ways a plea for unity within the Black community, as it’s one Black man’s attack on another that transforms Hess into a vampire. As Rev. Williams reminds us, Hess is a victim. Gunn doesn’t forget that problems related to drug abuse relate to larger social structures and racial inequity.

The importance of faith and community in healing is central to the plot as well. Thinking of the gaps in government agencies and social services, it’s no wonder the church has become such a vital institution in many Black communities. However, it’s unclear if Hess ultimately gains salvation through the church or merely an end to his life.

It’s similarly unclear if we’re rooting for any of our characters here. Ganja and Hess do obtain a sort of power through their vampirism, but this in itself isn’t necessarily empowering. There are a lot of scenes involving a servant bringing food to the couple and generally being a nameless, faceless employee. He does nothing onscreen but work, while Ganja and Hess do almost anything but work. These scenes are uncomfortable, but Gunn leaves things ambiguous in terms of what we as an audience are meant to think.

I’m glad we watched this film as it’s considered a classic of Black filmmaking. I can’t say I would have followed through with the entire run time if it hadn’t been “homework,” though.

Would my blog wife share a glass of warm blood with this one or stab it with a dagger too many times for it to resurrect? Read her review to find out!

Blacula, or: There He Is Again

Even if many typical Halloween activities have been cancelled or deemed too risky for me personally, it’s October, damnit! The spirit of Halloween lives in our hearts, and that’s at least reflected on the Blog Collab if not in many other parts of my life right now. Since we’ve already crossed off the Snoop Dogg/Pam Grier vehicle Bones, what better way to kick off Horror Month than with another pioneer in Black cinema…Blacula?

The Film:

Blacula

The Premise:

After becoming a vampire nearly 200 years earlier, Prince Mamuwalde awakens in 1970s Los Angeles as Blacula.

The Ramble:

The year is 1780 in Transylvania, and Dracula is meeting with two representatives of the fictional Abani nation: Prince Mamuwalde and his wife, Luva. The two seek Dracula’s support in ending the slave trade, a cause so unsympathetic to the vampire of legend that he laughs off the idea. In fact, Dracula decides that having two visitors to his estate presents an opportunity to feed. Transforming Mamuwalde into a vampire, Dracula seals him in a coffin to thirst for blood for eternity as…Blacula.

Nearly two centuries later, cringey gay stereotypes Bobby and Billy are interior decorators hoping to cash in on the campiness of antiques from Dracula’s estate. Shrugging off the warnings of the agent, the two men purchase items including a coffin, which happens to contain Mamuwalde’s undead corpse. After the coffin is sent to Los Angeles, Bobby and Billy unknowingly unleash the vampire on the city, becoming his first victims.

At Bobby’s funeral, Mamuwalde spots a mourner who looks just like his wife, Luva. Impossible, as Luva was locked in the creepy cellar in Dracula’s castle to die…or is it? The modern-day Luva is named Tina, a woman whose sister is dating an LAPD pathologist. Mamuwalde makes a bad first impression when he materializes in a dark alley, sending Tina running for her life. Conveniently, Mamuwalde is able to reconnect by returning Tina’s purse to her and explaining the misunderstanding. Though she is unnerved by Mamuwalde, Tina also feels drawn to him.

Meanwhile, the bodies pile up as Mamuwalde simultaneously feeds and covers his tracks. Dr. Thomas, the boyfriend of Tina’s sister Michelle, begins to suspect the mysterious deaths may share something similar. Researching all manner of ghoulish subjects, Thomas and Michelle investigate one of the victim’s graves after the LAPD refuses to exhume the body. There, they discover Billy’s undead corpse, which springs awake to attack them.

After an incredibly unsubtle line of questioning (“Are you into the occult?”), Mamuwalde realizes that Thomas is onto him. Just as it seems Mamuwalde has convinced Tina to join him for eternity, the LAPD interrupt, and the vampire is forced to flee. Upon following one of the vampires, Thomas and others find a den of the creatures, narrowly escaping.

With Mamuwalde on the loose, Thomas and Michelle pressure Tina to help them find and destroy him. Will Tina keep her promise or give in to the allure of Mamuwalde and the vampire lifestyle?

The Rating:

3/5 Pink Panther Heads

For such an iconic film, I frequently found myself struggling to stay awake…and not because of any vampiric hypnosis. This is basically a straightforward adaptation of Dracula set in the ’70s with a mostly Black cast. I was hoping for a stronger social commentary, but Mamuwalde doesn’t seem to have any secret social justice agenda, nor do any of the other characters. Even the name Blacula becomes problematic as it’s Dracula’s name for Mamuwalde rather than his own. Is it strange that I wanted a period piece set in the 19th century where Mamuwalde seeks vengeance against Dracula???

The character of Mamuwalde himself is pretty boring, though I suppose at the time it may have been refreshing to see a Black character who wasn’t a complete stereotype. He does, after all, walk around LA proudly wearing a cape. However, Dr. Thomas really takes over as a protagonist, and he’s not particularly interesting either. There’s a reason so many films about vampires focus on Dracula rather than Van Helsing–it’s so much more fun to be the creature than the force attempting to stop it.

Let’s not even get started with the characters of Tina and Michelle, who are glamorous but given virtually nothing to do. Neither has much agency, as Tina is mystically drawn to Mamuwalde, while Michelle revolves around Thomas. There isn’t really a compelling reason for Tina to feel a connection to Mamuwalde except because, you know, vampires. Either way, she doesn’t really get to make her own choices in the story and deserves better than the fate she meets.

And it’s impossible for me not to address the representation of gay characters Bobby and Billy in this film, which ages very poorly. I know most sitcoms today don’t do much better, but it’s still jarring to see these characters played purely for laughs.

Overall, the highlight is the unnecessary number of funk music interludes, which makes me suspect this would have been better as a musical.

Would my blog wife fly into the night with this one or deliver it a stake to the heart? Find out in her review!

The Last Shark, or: For Legal Reasons, I Have Never Seen the Spielberg Film from 1975

It’s been a difficult month for so many of us around the world. My contribution in all of this? Weekly reviews of terrible shark films because, of course, when things are tough, we can always rely on a shark to remind us of what’s really important. Staying inside, away from others, while the professionals get the job done. With only the occasional clueless politician thrown in for a touch of realism.

The Film:

The Last Shark

The Premise:

A writer and shark hunter team up to stop a shark terrorizing a small beach town in spite of its oblivious mayor. But the events in this film were no way inspired by Jaws. Not even a little bit.

The Ramble:

Though released in 1981, there’s no denying the groovy ’70s vibe featuring prominently here. No one embodies this more than our very daring, festively dressed windsurfer dude, the favorite to win big at this year’s local regatta. The event of the season for this small beachside town (unspecified), surely nothing can stand in the way of local tradition. Can it???

After golden boy of the windsurf kingdom goes missing, local writer Peter becomes concerned something is amiss. Stereotypical crusty Scottish sea captain Hammer (for real), locating one distinctly chomped surfboard, teams up with Peter to track down a shark of unusual size and avoid tragedy.

Unfortunately, like the mayor in that most classic of all shark films, Mayor Wells is determined to avoid the disruption of the regatta at all costs. Up for reelection and eager to score some points by defending a beloved tradition, Wells decides it will be good enough to put up some sharkproof netting and have a few people on the lookout.

Naturally, the regatta becomes a bloodbath as the shark picks off the windsurfers one by one. While the mayor is under pressure to locate the shark, Wells has no interest in doing so. And, honestly, this does seem to fall outside of the scope of mayoral duties? However, his son, along with buddies that include Peter’s daughter, decides to take it upon himself to heroically save the day. Armed with shotguns, their plan is to lure the shark with a hunk of janky old meat.

Meanwhile, Peter and Hammer’s scuba diving quest to hunt the shark ends less than successfully. Worse, Peter’s daughter Jenny encounters the shark, suffering serious injury. I guess this is the point where Peter mentally puts on sunglasses and says to himself, “Now it’s personal.”

At the same time, the mayor decides to take some personal responsibility and end the shark’s reign of terror. Taking his chopper out for a spin, Wells gets more than he bargained for. Sadly, so does the pilot when the shark takes down the entire fucking helicopter.

Throughout this whole ordeal, it should be noted, a TV crew is determined to capture all of the blood and guts on film. They even go so far as to hire a cowboy to take down the shark while the film is rolling. This, of course, backfires horribly when a bunch of youths, along with Peter’s wife, are standing on a boardwalk that the shark manages to detach. Can Peter save the day before the shark claims another victim?

The Rating:

2/5 Pink Panther Heads

A subtle tribute to Jaws this is not. It more closely resembles a hammy ripoff that falls painfully short of its source material. Most of the shark attacks just made me giggle rather than shake in terror; the regatta is perhaps the most unintentionally hilarious of this film’s moments of suspense. The theme song itself feels like such a ripoff too, to the extent that it’s merely distracting instead of tense.

There’s some catharsis in seeing the idiots die when Jaws didn’t grant us this joy. Especially since Mayor Vaughn has been making the rounds in meme form lately, it feels so soothing to see a recklessly stupid politician actually face consequences. Too bad there’s so little justice in our reality.

Unfortunately, everyone who isn’t a sleazebag is completely forgettable, so it’s difficult to root for our heroes here. In fact, the shark has a smart, vindictive streak that part of me very much admires. And one of our beachgoers at the regatta is casually waving a Confederate flag at one point??!?! Forgive me if this particular human elicits no sympathy from me. Also aggravating: the number of times a woman screams shrilly. Peter’s wife in particular is painfully helpless, and I was sort of hoping for her death at times.

Would my blog wife toss this one a life preserver or knock it overboard? Read her review here to find out!

Dolemite Is My Name, or: Lady in Reed

Not going to lie, I intended to keep the sad vibes going this week with Jennifer Kent’s The Nightingale, but our pick for the week by no means feels like sloppy seconds. Rather than a serious drama of revenge in the Tasmanian wilderness, this week takes us on a decidedly more fun journey to 1970s Los Angeles.

The Film:

Dolemite Is My Name

The Premise:

This biopic follows comedian and musician Rudy Ray Moore as he struggles to make and release the 1970s Blaxploitation film Dolemite.

The Ramble:

As an aspiring musician and comedian in the 1970s, Rudy Ray Moore has seen better days. His music has gone out of fashion in favor of stars like James Brown, and his one-man-show act isn’t what any of the comedy clubs are looking for. Now working in a record store by day and as an MC by night, Rudy’s career seems truly at a dead end.

However, inspired by the ramblings of a homeless man at the store, Rudy develops a comedy character by the name of Dolemite. Borrowing money from his aunt, Rudy creates a raunchy comedy record deemed too filthy for radio. The record speaks for itself as Rudy makes his rounds across the comedy clubs in L.A. and the South.

While performing comedy, Rudy finds a partner for a double act in the form of Lady Reed, a woman preparing to fistfight with a man at the club. Though Lady Reed has never considered herself a comedian, she has the commanding presence and raunchy sense of humor to make her the perfect partner for Rudy.

It can never be said that Rudy’s dreams are too small; as soon as he’s achieved success in clubs, Rudy is ready to take his character Dolemite to the big screen. With his enthusiasm and charm, Rudy easily recruits a playwright, director, crew, and cast. Never mind that the cinematographers are UCLA film students, many of the actors are strippers with no film experience, and the electricity for their improvised studio fades in and out.

An over-the-top Blaxploitation film, Dolemite promises to deliver an all-girl kung-fu army, a gritty look into the nightclub scene, and a dramatic exorcism, all while addressing themes of urban inequity and drug abuse. Too bad director D’Urville Martin (of Rosemary’s Baby fame) dreams of creating a serious, artistic film rather than the campy mess Rudy envisions. It becomes clear very quickly that Rudy will take nothing seriously, from the kung-fu moves to the silly sex scene.

Eventually, Martin yields to the inevitable and accepts the film will never be as he envisioned it. With filming wrapped, the movie is all set for theatrical release, right? Wrong. After all of his work on the film, Rudy is having trouble drumming up any distributor interest whatsoever; he eventually gives up on the film ever seeing the light of day.

Will Dolemite ever complete its journey to the big screen? (Spoiler/historical fact: yes.)

The Rating:

4/5 Pink Panther Heads

The cast is killer and it’s worth watching the film for the performances alone: Tituss Burgess, Craig Robinson, Wesley Snipes, Da’Vine Joy Randolph, Keegan-Michael Key, and Eddie Murphy at the top of his game–still only a fraction of the cast making this film such a fun ride. The dynamic between Murphy and Snipes especially stands out, and I absolutely love Randolph here too.

It doesn’t hurt that the script offers an interesting peek into a little-known true story (or at least not known to me). Like Rudy, the film doesn’t take itself too seriously, but respects and pays tribute to its subject. Perhaps Dolemite was never going to win any Oscars, but it was a real passion project for Rudy and a reflection of a time and place in recent(ish) history. It’s still quite a feat today to find a film with a primarily black cast and creators.

Rounding out the experience are the spot-on ’70s vibes captured here. The attention to period detail (is it odd to you too that this is considered a period piece?) is incredible in terms of the appearance of characters and scenery, as well as the slang and soundtrack we hear. I truly enjoyed (and learned a lot from) this film!

Would my multi-talented blog wife give this one the green light or send it back to the 1970s, white tuxedo and all? Find out in her review here!

Coffy, or: Cream & Sugar

I can’t believe this free blogging month is nearly over–though, of course, October is truly the most wonderful time of the year on the Blog Collab. The challenge this year will be out-doing a film featuring Pam Grier with a shotgun; honestly, should we just call it a day and try again in 2020?

The Film:

Coffy

The Premise:

A woman seeks revenge against the drug ring responsible for her sister’s heroin addiction.

The Ramble:

If you can’t handle a ‘70s vibe, get out of this kitchen, as this is possibly the most ’70s film you will watch.

Outside of an extremely retro nightclub, a junkie waits for the big time drug dealer inside.  She will do anything to get a hit—a rather more appealing prospect to the dealer when it turns out the junkie is Coffy, played by Pam Grier.

Upon retiring to a private apartment, Coffy reveals she’s had an ulterior motive all along:  rather than a junkie, she is a woman seeking vengeance against those she holds responsible for her sister’s addiction to heroin.  Both the dealer and his driver fail to live past this night.

A nurse by day, Coffy visits her sister in rehab every week–not the typical stone-hearted killer. Though in a relationship with Howard, a hopeful for an upcoming congressional race, her boyfriend is keen to keep their relationship out of the public eye. Perhaps his reasons for the secrecy move beyond commitment issues? (Hint: they totally do.)

After her ex-boyfriend cop, Carter, is put in a coma, Coffy has added incentive to take down the drug dealers, police officers, and political insiders victimizing the black community. When she confronts a sex worker, Coffy gains intel about the local drug ring and the role of dealer and pimp King George–aka the most stereotypically ’70s pimp to ever grace the silver screen.

Posing as a sex worker, Coffy uses her connection with King George to root out the creeps at the top of the pyramid. Though she has things all sorted out to take care of dealer Vitroni (including gun smuggled in a child’s stuffed lion), Coffy’s plan is foiled when Carter’s partner, a corrupt cop, recognizes her and tips off his boss.

Out of her depth and with no friends to be found, how will Coffy manage to save the day and take down a massive drug ring all by herself?

The Rating:

4/5 Pink Panther Heads

I’ll start with the jarring elements of the film: there is a LOT of nudity here that feels EXTREMELY male gaze-y. The standouts here are the cringey cat fight between Coffy and one of the sex workers, as well as the gross scene after Carter is beaten where one of the assailants rather casually attempts to rape Coffy.

As a blaxploitation film, there are some ways in which race is addressed well…and others that feel incredibly problematic. A leading contributor to this is the weirdness of a mostly black cast in a film written and directed by a white man. The way King George meets his end, being dragged behind a car with a noose, is the absolute worst. And while the film’s message isn’t to endorse racism, it does have a voyeuristic feel that makes me wonder if there are people today who genuinely enjoy this scene.

However, the film is very much ahead of its time in its anti-drug themes, and the way it connects these to structural racism in politics and law enforcement. It’s truly tragic the way these ideas will be completely ignored during and in the aftermath of the war on drugs.

The real highlight is, of course, Pam Grier. She succeeds in being a tough but tender lead who is as comfortable wielding a shotgun as caring for her sister. Additionally, she’s a genius at hiding sharp objects in her ‘fro.

I give maximum points for this film’s tagline:   “They call her Coffy, and she’ll cream you.”

Would my tough as nails blog wife give this one a cuddle or bring on the shotgun? Read her review here to find out!

How to Talk to Girls at Parties, or: Zan-adu

This month takes us not to new cities, countries, or worlds, but new galaxies.  Time to finally take up stargazing because we’re ready to kick off Alien August!

The Film:

How to Talk to Girls at Parties

The Premise:

A teen trying to get his punk band off the ground unknowingly joins an alien party for an evening, leading to shenanigans.

The Ramble:

1970s London.  Punk.  Eyeliner.  Spiky hair.  Aliens?  Aliens.

Enn is a wannabe punk rocker with his small group of misfit friends.  No one seems to like his little gang, as their fellow punks think they’re posers, while everyone else thinks they’re hoodlums.

After embarrassing himself in front of the entire Croydon punk scene at a concert, Enn has also struck out with Boadicea, a punk with the connections to get their band into the limelight.

At least they have the after party to look forward to…until the trio become hopelessly lost while trying to find the party.  Upon hearing strange music they’ve never experienced the likes of, Enn and his pals follow the sounds to a different party–an alien party.

Unbeknownst to any of the 3, they all have a good time grooving with the aliens, getting some hot alien action, and meeting intriguing alien girls.  Enn feels a connection with Zan, an alien in the form of a teenager who wants to see and experience human life in an authentic way.

Unfortunately, the other aliens disapprove of Zan’s actions and even believe she will stir up trouble.  After partying all night, Zan meets Enn’s mother as well as one of her fellow aliens, who sort of possesses the body of Enn’s mother to communicate?

When Enn and Zan return to Boadicea’s undergound punk club, a misunderstanding leads her to believe Zan is a big deal in the American scene.  As a result, Zan accidentally becomes the lead singer of a punk band for the night.

However, her night goes off the rails when other aliens crash the party and she decides to do a little much carpe diem-ing in defiance.  Overhearing some rather sinister plans, Enn becomes convinced Zan is part of a cannibalistic cult that will kill and eat its own.

Calling in a favor from Boadicea, Enn assembles a punk army to defeat the aliens and save Zan. Does she even need saving, though?

The Rating:

3/5 Pink Panther Heads

The coherence level is low here, but there are just enough charming touches to almost make up for it.  There are some crazy, nonsensical sequences, but I don’t hate them–the energy is great and feels drawn from a genuine love of punk music and culture.  Honestly, the plot is kind of unnecessary and not nearly as fun as just watching punk and alien cultures collide.

The highlights here are the two main ladies.  Elle Fanning’s mannerisms are endearing and fun and avoid the trope of the logic-driven, emotionless alien.  I do love that she keeps asking Enn to see the punk.  And can we please talk about punk Nicole Kidman dressed more or less as David Bowie in Labyrinth?  Because it’s just as incredible as it sounds.

Was this the dark punk rock dream of my blog wife or a total poser?  Find out in her review here!

Let’s Scare Jessica to Death, or: Lute Duet

I’m sad and astonished to report we’re close to wrapping up the best month on the blog.  This week brings us more horror with the unintentional bonus theme of (mis)handling mental health.  But let’s be honest—that’s every month on this blog.

The Film:

Let’s Scare Jessica to Death

The Premise:

Upon moving to a creepy house in the country, a woman’s dark hallucinations return, disrupting her connection to reality.

The Ramble:

After mysteriously moving to a small, rural town, Jessica is ready to put the past behind her.  She’s arrived in town rather ominously in a hearse, along with her husband and also…some random guy who just lives with them?  Like I tried really hard to figure out why he was there being the awkward live-in third wheel but that remains unclear.

Cemeteries are pretty cool, though.

So anyway…Jessica alludes vaguely to her visions and time in the hospital, but is more than happy to leave all of that behind.  It seems eerie visions aren’t entirely in the past, though, when she sees a ghostly figure of a woman in a graveyard.  To avoid any unwanted questions, Jessica keeps this particular sighting quiet, convincing herself she didn’t really see anything.  That always works out well in horror, right…?

To make things worse, the group takes a ferry over to the house, aka the old Brookfield place.  The man who runs the ferry tells them sinisterly they’ll be on the other side soon after hearing where they’re heading.  Ooooooooh, double meanings!

Upon arriving at the house, Jessica and the others discover they aren’t quite alone.  A woman named Emily has been living in the abandoned house and, feeling a kinship with her, Jessica invites her to stay.  She sort of regrets this immediately when Emily and Jessica’s husband, Duncan, share an uncomfortable lute duet filled with sexual tension.

Nice…lute?

Meanwhile, Jessica is seeing more and more dark visions, including seeing blood, hearing voices, and encountering a dead body floating in the nearby pond.  The small town vibe is rather eerie as well—the approximately 4 dudes who live in town seem set on being really standoffish and uninviting.  The one somewhat friendly face in town is the antiques dealer, who is quick to reveal the sad story of a local woman who drowned and now haunts the town and/or may be a vampire (begging the question of whether you can be both a vampire and a ghost simultaneously).

TBH, I was expecting this to become a scene from IDFAHITWA as soon as the antique shop came into play.  Sadly, it did not.

As Jessica sees increasingly disturbing images, Emily is more and more sinister, and Duncan acts even sleazier, Jessica begins to question what is real, desperate to convince herself she’s imagining everything.  Who will make it to the other side, as it were?

The Rating:

3.5/5 Pink Panther Heads

It’s not especially scary as a horror film, but it does set up an atmosphere of paranoia very effectively and tackles mental health quite well.  Jessica seeing things no one else can see and constantly second-guessing herself and the voices in her head is so real.

I really enjoyed Emily as a character/chaotic force of nature while simultaneously feeling a lot of sympathy for Jessica.  The men in this film could’ve just spontaneously combusted and it would have been fine with me; they were quite bland characters.

Ha, though some of the, er, suspenseful music is hilarious and does take away from the drama of it all at times.  It makes me wonder if all of the intense music post-Dark Knight will be laughable in a few years and take people out of the scene immediately.

Did this one scare Christa to death or would she hop onto a ferry in search of something better?  Find out in her review here!

Black Christmas (I Gave Unicorn My Heart)

The Christmas Collab, truly the highlight of my December, has one last hurrah this week. Christa picked, so you know it’s going to be a good one.

The Film:

Black Christmas

Where to Watch:

Youtube

The Premise:

An unknown creep stalks and murders the members of a sorority house during Christmas in the 1970s. And it reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally looks like the ‘70s.

The Uncondensed Version:

So the girls of Made-Up Sorority X, the Real Name of Which I Can’t Remember are having the annual sorority Christmas party. And by that I mean standing around looking 30 and soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ‘70s.

So ’70s.

Meanwhile, we’re getting a lot of weird camera angles/creepy breathing, so you know this party is going to end so very badly. Plus, I mean, this film is called Black Christmas.

It’s all fun and games until the sisters get an incredibly creepy phone call that sounds like dying/choking/masturbating, and quite possibly all of the above. The girl who picks up the phone, Jess, puts up with all sorts of rude suggestions and death threats until Barb, clearly the rebel of the group, responds sarcastically and hangs up.

That was an example of Barb using her sarcasm wisely; for an instance in which Barb is a sarcastic jerk who manages to piss off all of her friends, see the part where she makes fun of Clare’s alleged inexperience. Clare, who will be going out of town with her boyfriend, goes upstairs to pack. She never finishes packing (I mean, does anyone ever except by virtue of the ride leaving in 20 minutes?) as she is attacked and suffocated by the creepy murderer.

The next day, Clare’s father becomes concerned when she fails to meet him on campus as they’d planned. He asks the house mother, Mrs. Mac, (or whatever she is…I’ve never claimed to understand how sororities work) where Clare could be. Mrs. Mac is a cat lady who likes to swear. I connect to her on a spiritual level. STILL no one realizes Clare is sitting in a rocking chair in the sorority house, dead (honestly, might not have been a rocking chair, but that’s a much more effective image, isn’t it?).

With all of this shit going on, Jess has more to deal with as she is planning to get an abortion. She tells her boyfriend, Pete, as he is practicing piano? Even when you take into account the odd timing, Pete’s reaction is disproportionately jackass-y. He asks if she ever considers anyone but herself and asks if she has any idea how important his pending audition is. The moral of the story being fuck that guy.

Shut UP, Pete.

Finally someone files a missing person’s report for Clare, Jess asks if Clare’s boyfriend has seen her (no b/c she’s dead AF), and Barb has a total meltdown over driving Clare away. I seriously think this film started “Go home, you’re drunk” as one of the girls says, “Barb, you’re drunk. Go to bed.”

I’M NOT TIRED!

So anyway…the police and members of the community form a search party for Clare, which is just such a mistake. People start dying left, right, and center.

To remind us that it’s Christmas, Jess opens the door to kids sing carols, which personally would creep me out so fucking much. In other creepy news, Pete asks her to marry him so he and Jess can raise the baby together. Ugh, no.

AND perhaps the greatest moment of this film occurs when death by glass unicorn happens. They’re dangerous.

The police begin to suspect Pete b/c he’s a fucking psycho, but did he do it? Maybe you should watch the damn movie and find out.

The Rating:

3.5/5 Pink Panther Heads

Because I hated Pete.

And I know it was the ‘70s, but there was quite a lot of casual misogyny and offhand remarks about rape. However, this is quite a progressive horror film, esp. as there is frank discussion of abortion in a way that doesn’t attempt to demonize it.

I was also legitimately creeped out by this film at several intervals, which is impressive as I’ve watched so much bad horror as to be virtually immune to this kind of thing.

Does Christa agree or will there be a fight to the death with glass unicorns? Find out by reading her review here!