Based on recent history in particular, it’s kind of difficult not to root for an apocalyptic event. At this point, I think the simple, straightforward evil of demonic forces would be preferable to all of the underhanded, moralistic schemes tanking our world. Throw in some ’80s hair and now fashionably oversized glasses, and of course you’ve got the makings of a feminist rage feature on the Blog Collab.
Faced with the apocalypse, a stripper and an evangelical protestor must work together to escape demonic forces.
Since their school days, Angie and Sally’s lives have diverged quite drastically in 1980s Chicago. Stripper Angie is outwardly tough, working in a peep show booth to scrape together enough money to live on. Meanwhile, Sally has made it her mission to save the souls of sinners…largely by yelling at them. Less than effective perhaps.
As Angie rebuffs Sally’s judgment on her way to work, she focuses on making money despite a less than charming personality. While Angie works, she is oblivious to the apocalyptic storm happening outside. Literally.
While Sally ironically seeks refuge in the peep show joint, demonic forces are unleashed all around, including on the peep show owner Ray. Initially, Sally seems fine with staying put until she gets raptured. However, Angie, stuck in the peep show booth, leans on her sense of Christian charity to help her escape the booth. Because of Prohibition-era bootlegger tunnels underground, there may be a way out for this unlikely duo.
As one might expect, Angie and Sally begin to change their views on each other as they become better acquainted (and battle demons together). Unfortunately, the apocalyptic end times mean demons around every corner, including the demon king himself. And who knows if there will still be a world outside if the two can even survive the tunnels.
3/5 Pink Panther Heads
Despite being very light on plot and quite low budget, this film is more fun than expected. The neon ’80s colors and retro costumes are effective. Because the film is very low budget, these touches aren’t quite enough to bring the ’80s to life, and there are times when it’s easy to forget what the time setting is meant to be. Similarly, the Prohibition tunnels used by gangsters are about the only reminder we get that our location is Chicago.
Even with a bunch of cliches, I enjoyed the dynamic between our two leading ladies quite a lot. Surprise surprise, ultra-religious Sally is hiding a shameful secret that drives her to conceal her sinful thoughts. And it’s a bit of a stretch that these two diametrically opposed characters just need to spend time together to realize how much they have in common. It’s a sweet message, but given the world we’re living in, it feels even more unlikely than actual demons decimating the planet.
I suppose it’s no longer accurate to say horror is an unloved, critically disparaged genre. However, for every Get Out there are 10 Ghost Sharks (or more), and much as we appreciate a certified fresh film, the schlocky shark films have our hearts. This week’s film wraps up a month dedicated to films that aren’t exactly award winners…and, inevitably, largely fall into the horror camp.
When he discovers his roommate’s boyfriend is part of a serial killer support group, film critic Joel has the unwanted opportunity to apply all he knows about horror movies.
Poor sad ’80s nerd Joel is a horror film critic pining for his roommate Sarah. While Joel has plenty of ideas about how to improve the horror genre (like a franchise about a taxi driver serial killer), he has no clue how to express his feelings. When Joel has a bad feeling about Sarah’s new boyfriend Bob, he takes the obvious step of drinking with him under false pretenses to figure out his deal.
If the ’80s sleazebag jacket isn’t a dead giveaway for the nature of Bob’s character, his creepy fake ‘stache is certainly a major hint. Joel gets too drunk to fully grasp the ways that Bob’s uncomfortable descriptions of women suggest not only sexual encounters but murder.
After the bar clears out, Joel drunkenly stumbles across what seems to be a support group meeting in the basement. He quickly realizes the support group is far from ordinary when the participants begin to describe their gruesome murders, ranging from creepy clown to sorority house killer and state-sanctioned assassin. Joel’s many hours analyzing horror are transformed into practical skill when it’s his turn to detail his particular approaches to getting away with murder, drawing on his taxi cab killer pitch for inspiration.
Unfortunately, when Bob arrives late to the meeting, he’s quick to point out the holes in Joel’s story, effectively blowing his cover. It’s then that the only woman serial killer of the group, Carrie, claims she should be the one to take care of this problem. Barricading herself and Joel in the bar’s kitchen, Carrie shocks him with the revelation that she doesn’t intend to kill him; rather, she’s infiltrated the group to out take out all of the serial killers in attendance.
As Carrie faces the difficult odds of four against one, will Joel find a way to at least do something that would count as useful?
2.5/5 Pink Panther Heads
This is fine. The ’80s horror ambience is great, the performances are committed, but some rather cliché approaches to the writing make me suspect I will forget this one before too long.
The script pulls from all of the worst parts of ’80s film-making in my opinion: annoyingly self-involved protagonist lacking any interesting personality traits, totally flat characterization (particularly when it comes to women), and largely predictable plot twists.
Joel is honestly so annoying, and while he does learn a lesson that stops him behaving as if Sarah owes him any kind of romantic feelings whatsoever, the film approaches this in a pretty clunky way. There’s also a rather nonsensical “twist” where Joel decides to become Carrie’s sidekick in the serial killer assassination business despite having no relevant skills. The mediocre white man fails up yet again?
Carrie herself is a badass, though she has no interiority whatsoever. And it feels very much reinforcing gender roles to have her as the only serial killer of the group who isn’t really a serial killer. It’s not even that fun to watch the actual serial killers get taken out as they’re surprisingly boring as well and none are particularly inventive when it comes to murder. I wish the elements of the film had been as creative and fun as the premise, but it ultimately doesn’t live up to its title.
Though it’s not officially a horror month on the Collab…it’s the Blog Collab. It’s never not horror month. In a world that seems especially horrific currently, we don’t have answers on the Collab. We only have horror–horror from the ’80s, thank god.
The Slumber Party Massacre
After a serial killer escapes from prison, he grabs a power drill as his weapon of choice to terrorize a group of high school girls at a slumber party.
Though a mass murderer’s recent escape from a prison in Venice Beach, CA is headline news, no one seems too concerned. And though I’m not usually one to call for an increased police presence, this feels like a good opportunity to have a few more patrol officers out and about. But no–it’s relatively easy for the escaped killer to murder a phone repair woman in broad daylight with a power drill.
Oblivious to the danger, senior Trish and her friends are looking forward to a girls only slumber party as her parents will be away for the weekend. Though there are boys around who are all too keen to crash the party, the girls insist they won’t be welcome. Also decidedly not invited is new girl Valerie. As Valerie happens to be gorgeous, naturally athletic, and an agreeable person, Trish immediately dislikes her.
Before you know it, one of the girls who is locked inside the school also gets murdered in broad daylight. This is possibly the saddest death as none of her friends seem to notice or even question why she’s not around for the slumber party? I could be misremembering–but, like many an early horror character death, she’s both gone and forgotten.
That evening, Valerie most definitely has more important things to do than sit around and obsess about her snub as the party goes on next door. She insists to her precocious little sister Courtney that she doesn’t care at all about the petty squabble with Trish’s girl gang. Nevertheless, Val is watching quite closely out the window…and she’s got a bad feeling that has nothing to do with the rivalry.
Something doesn’t seem right to Trish either. Honestly, I’d be concerned too: the kindly neighbor who has agreed to check in on Trish makes himself feel right at home by just showing up in and around the house, incidentally holding a butcher knife. Meanwhile, the boys who are ostensibly among her friends have decided to creep on the evening’s activities by the open window as the girls undress. Quite a few people here really need a refresher on trespassing and consent, and probably the meaning of friendship while we’re at it.
When one of the girls (Diane maybe?) breaks the code of sisterhood and invites her boyfriend to meet her outside the house, there is a horror movie price to be paid quickly and violently. The party goes from bad to worse when the pizza delivery guy shows up dead on the doorstep, making the fatal error of turning the pizza box upside down. Relatably, this doesn’t prevent the girls from stress eating.
As the two boys who have joined the party decide to make a break for it to get help, Val considers whether she should finally listen to her gut and investigate the party next door. But will there even be any partygoers left by then?
3/5 Pink Panther Heads
My biggest issue here is how surprisingly slow the first half of the film is, despite multiple onscreen power drill murders. It takes quite a while for the power drill killer to catch up with the slumber party crowd, and the effect doesn’t necessarily build suspense. If you’re going to murder people with power tools after escaping from prison, you should probably waste no time. Then again, one lesson we learn from this film is that police interest in investigating serial murders in 1980s Venice Beach is negligible.
When we do finally get into the swing of things, it’s quite satisfying. I can’t think of other horror films that feature a power drill as the murderer’s weapon of choice, and there are some creatively gruesome deaths as a result. Apparently the filmmakers didn’t catch on to the sly humor of screenwriter Rita Mae Brown, so there are some genuinely funny moments even if the tone is a bit off the mark at times.
Annoyingly, our characters are all pretty one-dimensional. Remembering names or any distinguishing characteristics is next to impossible. Even the power drill killer isn’t a particularly interesting person, opting for murdering teen girls…because? That’s just what crazy people do, according to the film’s logic. I was hoping for even a brief backstory that might help us unpack the killer’s motives, but we don’t get any such preparation from the filmmakers.
I wish the Val/Trish stories had been woven together more effectively too. I have to admire Val’s resourcefulness when she unwittingly stumbles across the active site of a serial killer at work. However, she is completely separate from most of the action of the film, and it all gets a bit clunky in terms of pacing. There are some fun elements of ’80s horror at work here, but they don’t necessarily align to become a classic.
On a side note, I love the extremely ’80s horror theme music.
Would my blog wife invite this one to the slumber party or lock it outside with a power drill killer on the loose? Find out in her review!
I really wasn’t sure if Horror in March (not quite the same ring as Christmas in July) would backfire terribly when we settled on the theme. Some of our themes have been very hit or miss lately, though more because of world events and less because of the films themselves (but some have been pretty forgettable). Would a focus on horror deliver as expected or merely repeat a disappointing cycle?
Not to spoil this review too much, but I do feel horror has played a major role in making this month somewhat manageable. Admittedly the significant progress in vaccine rollout has helped too. Ultimately, I think the moral of the story here is to always choose horror, even (and especially) when your reality is rather nightmarish. It’s the right thing to do.
Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II
Decades after her fiery death, a prom queen returns to seek vengeance against all those who cross her path.
On a dark and stormy night, a veiled woman arrives at an empty church, seeking to make a confession. What else does one do on a dark and stormy night? Our mysterious young woman reveals that she has committed many sins with many boys and loved every minute of it Oh my.
Who is this figure but the spirit of the titular Mary Lou, 1957 high school it girl and prom queen? Except Mary Lou never got to wear her crown, a fact her restless spirit will never forget. Something of a 1950s rebel, Mary Lou is busted at prom making out with bad boy Buddy (totally the name of a ’50s teen living life on the edge). Humiliated boyfriend Billy opts for a petty revenge scheme, throwing a lit stink bomb towards Mary Lou just as she’s about to undergo the prom queen coronation. This goes horrendously wrong, and Mary Lou literally goes up in flames. Though Billy regrets this immediately and Buddy does try to help (sort of), Mary Lou burns to death–but not before sending a rather murderous glare towards her boyfriend.
Thirty years later, Billy is principal of the high school and a father to teen Craig. Good to know your life probably won’t be significantly derailed when–oopsy–you pull a prank that results in the actual murder of your girlfriend. (I know this is totally beside the point, but we NEVER have a single mention of Craig’s mother; it’s possible she died or divorced Billy, but I suspect he may have just sprung from nothing, Greek myth-style.) Goody two-shoes Vicky is dating Craig, who is considered a bad boy because he has a motorcycle, puts sugar in his coffee, gives his girlfriend a cross necklace. You know, all of the typical bad boy indicators.
Meanwhile, Buddy has chosen the life of a priest to atone for his sins, but mostly to set up some dramatically tense attempts at exorcism.
Vicky has been nominated for prom queen, so you know she’s a popular girl. However, she is also on friendly terms with that weird kid who tried to invent a potato radio and Jess, the troubled teen with an unwanted pregnancy…so she’s not that kind of popular girl. Helping to plan the prom, Vicky uncovers a chest full of 1950s fashions, including Mary Lou’s cursed prom queen crown. Shortly after, Jess stays late after school and ends up hanging from the ceiling lights, though we know her death isn’t the suicide it appears to be.
Worryingly, these aren’t the only sinister goings-on. Vicky has strange hallucinations about Mary Lou and eerie figures chanting her name. Her troubled state of mind bleeds into her life as Vicky tells off a rival for prom queen, talks back to her mother, and even slaps the shit out of a girl she mistakes for Mary Lou. Given all of Vicky’s strange behavior, her family and boyfriend Craig believe she needs help as soon as possible. Vicky’s mother concedes that an intervention is needed in the form of Jesus. When Father Buddy speaks with Vicky, he is sufficiently freaked out to warn Billy that Mary Lou may have the power to possess and kill her ex-boyfriend. Priests are completely immune to the influence of demons, of course, so no need to worry on that front, everyone. You can go ahead and scrub that idea from your mind because it’s not even in the realm of possibility for Mary Lou to bring about any harm to members of the clergy. Clearly.
When Mary Lou does decide to completely take over Vicky’s life, she cranks up the dial waaaaaay beyond 10. Just in time for prom, Mary Lou is living(?) her best life, bossing people around when it comes to prom, using dated ’50s slang, and showing off nearly godlike murder powers. On a scale of 1 to witnessing one of your classmates burn to death onstage, just how fucked up is the big prom night going to be this time around?
4.5/5 Pink Panther Heads
I know, I know–a completely unrelated sequel to Prom Night that features none of the original cast and was released a full 7 years after the fact has no right being this good. But this is such a fun watch, and I don’t get why this isn’t at least considered a cult classic (as far as I know, anyway). The world wasn’t ready, I suppose.
First, I am always here for an ’80s lewk, and there are some strong statement fashions here. I appreciate when genres steal from other genres as well, and this film does things right on that front. It’s very much a horror film, especially as things escalate in the latter half, but we have some very John Hughes teen movie moments and characters, as well as some elements that feel right out of a soap opera. If horror isn’t going to be melodramatic AF, then what’s the point, honestly?
I do think some of the feminist themes in our film are incidental or applied retroactively. I choose to interpret this as a feminist masterpiece; however, all of Mary Lou’s behavior as a queen bitch isn’t necessarily set up as aspirational (in the way that, to me, it truly is). Most of the time, Mary Lou serves as an example of how one should not live life. Vicky seems to be the ideal prom queen: compassionate, monogamous, organized, high-achieving. As is so often the case, it’s much more fun to see Vicky exhibit supposedly bad behavior than live a wet blanket existence. She’s so repressed that it’s a relief to see her let loose as Mary Lou; I could see one interpretation of the film drawing a parallel between Vicky’s coming of age/sexual awakening and her embrace of Mary Lou’s identity, which so many people around her consider dirty and shameful.
No matter how you interpret things, Mary Lou provides plenty of entertainment and some delightfully creepy hallucinatory scenes.
You know, I don’t think we’ve reviewed a single Jamie Lee Curtis film on the Blog Collab. Not for lack of interest; we simply prefer for our picks to fly under the radar a bit more than many of the iconic classics that feature JLC. This week’s pick may very well be a first then–a Jamie Lee Curtis feature, if not…er…quite a modern classic.
A costume frat party on a train provides a perfect opportunity for a disguised killer to strike.
It’s bonfire night for the rowdiest frat on campus, meaning the time for hijinks is nigh. Poor Kenny, the nerdy/sensitive one, is relieved he will shortly be able to ditch the unfortunate beanie all of the new pledges must wear. Kenny is eager to prove how cool he is by sleeping with gorgeous Alana, who is supposedly very into the sensitive young man.
Unfortunately, the frat bros know too well that Kenny is extremely creeped out by dead body parts (like a normal human, honestly). All of this elaborate setup is part of a pretty nasty prank involving Kenny cuddling up to a cadaver intended for the med students to use (which, btw, would likely get all those involved ejected from the program). Pressured into participating in the prank, Alana is clueless about the dead body involved in all of this, and expresses remorse immediately. She’s especially regretful when Kenny is ultimately hospitalized following the incident.
But that’s totally beside the point, right? Completely in the past, never to resurface again. Fast forward 3 years, and we’re ready to celebrate the new year and the impeding graduation of the frat boy/med. student crowd aboard a steam train. Obviously. Everyone is conveniently dressed in costume to amplify the homicidal chaos festive atmosphere.
Silly Ed is dressed as Groucho Marx, though his comedic stylings are more in line with classic dad jokes. Mercifully, the truly terrible jokes don’t last long–Ed is the first to go, stabbed before the train even leaves the station. Ed falls perfectly onto the train tracks, though not before the mysterious killer claims the costume for upcoming use.
As the train takes off on its novelty journey, Alana and bff Mitchy are thrilled, vowing to be friends forever. Yikes. Meanwhile, David Copperfield is lurking around, prepared to do magic and stand around dark corners. Doc, voted most douchey in the class, is eager to remember his best prank, the one targeting Kenny. This is rather a sore spot for Alana, who (wisely) hasn’t been a fan of Doc since that night. Unfortunately, Doc is very much part of the friend group, as he is dating Mitchy and is a close friend of Mo’s.
Predictably, Doc is determined to be an asshole, making it clear to Alana that the idea for the party train was all his. Mo, who made the entire evening seem like a surprise planned for Alana, is SOL, and the two get into a fight. Unbeknownst to the group of friends, they are down another med. student–Jackson, dressed in a lizard costume.
This is more or less the way our film unfolds: drama between various couples, David Copperfield magical interludes, more and more grisly murders. Interspersed are scenes with the train conductor and crew, who end up as amateur detectives when they begin to realize something is amiss.
In one of our more dramatic sequences, Mitchy sees Doc and Mo head off to a separate train car with two foxy magician’s assistants. Upset with her boyfriend’s infidelity, Mitchy bumps into lizard man Jackson…or does she? Seeking romantic vengeance becomes a dangerous pursuit, especially when Mitchy realizes just how cold Jackson’s hands are.
Once the number of murders on this train ride becomes impossible to ignore, the crew has the brilliant idea of stopping the train to search for the killer. Because that’s sure to help. Alana has put two and two together, warning Doc that she suspects Kenny is the killer on the train, seeking revenge against all in their group of friends. Can they unmask the murderer before it’s too late?
3/5 Pink Panther Heads
There’s no escaping the fact that Jamie Lee Curtis looks damn good as a lady pirate, and that alone carries perhaps 75% of this film.
Beyond that, I didn’t hate this. I can certainly see why this film hasn’t become a horror classic in the way that other JLC vehicles have. There are a LOT of scenes of 20-somethings just standing around in various costumes that aren’t particularly necessary. And while I do appreciate the effort made to make the train crew more than nameless, faceless background characters, most of their scenes are a bit boring IMHO.
Given the opening scene of the film, it’s pretty obvious who the murderer will turn out to be. However, David Copperfield is creepy enough here (and probably generally, to be honest) that he makes for a pretty convincing red herring, especially when he seems to take a shine to Alana. Lines of dialogue he utters to her include “Do you believe in magic?” and, shortly after, “I’ll have to convince you.” Shudder.
I will say, even when it was obvious where the film was going, there were still a few surprises. An extremely spoiler-y one is that Kenny’s most dramatic disguise is that of lady assistant to David Copperfield. Which does leave me with more questions than answers–like for how many years was Kenny an assistant to DC? And does David Copperfield just not believe in background checks, because supposedly Kenny killed someone, perhaps while institutionalized, before becoming an assistant. However, the more important focus here is that it’s problematic to depict people who dress in drag or are gender non-conforming as criminals who are out to trick others. It feels gross, honestly–and not necessarily an attitude that’s a complete throwback. These ideas and depictions are very much alive and well today.
On a final, petty level, I was annoyed that Alana didn’t get the last swing at Kenny. I feel if you’re terrorized by a murderer who kills the vast majority of your friends, you should at least be the one to hit him with a shovel in the end. In horror movie land anyway.
It’s March. It’s 2021. In a nightmarish year (that does have some glimmers of hope ahead), what else are we going to do on the Collab but dive into horror? October is much too far away for us to wait, so be prepared this month for some creepy isolated houses, plenty of gore, and…hairspray I guess?
We Summon the Darkness
Despite the dangers of an at-large Satanic cult lurking in rural Indiana, three young women invite a group of boys back to their isolated cabin following a 1980s metal concert.
In 1980s Indiana, metalheads Alexis, Val, and Beverly are off to a concert they’ve been eagerly anticipating for weeks. The girls seem to be thrilled not only for the evening out, but also for the freedom of driving along for miles, stopping for emergency supplies as needed (i.e. Hostess snacks), and teasing out their ’80s hair to new heights.
Along the way, the girls receive a cryptic warning from a gas station attendant, who cautions them about the existence of evil. He’s not entirely off-base here; there have been a series of Satanic ritual murders across the state lately, with the perps still at large. Standing in opposition to Satanism/the moral decline of the nation is fear-mongering pastor John Henry Butler, your standard Mike Pence clone.
It also becomes increasingly clear that the friendship between our leading ladies isn’t all it’s cracked up to be; leader Alexis and flirty Val quite often take sides against “the quiet one,” Bev. I’m guessing that’s not going to create any further tension later.
Despite all of this, things are going quite swimmingly until an ’80s stoner van passes our main trio on the highway, tossing a brown liquid from the window, which temporarily obstructs driver Alexis’ view. Stopping by the side of the road to assess the damage, Alexis discovers the liquid is only a chocolate milkshake; however, it’s enough to draw her ire.
Arriving at the concert at last, the girl gang spots none other than the van involved with the milkshake incident. Deciding to pull a prank on the group inside the van, Val lights a firecracker and tosses it inside. As three guys scramble out in a panic, their mood shifts from irritated to apologetic when they realize how they have wronged fellow metalheads with impressively styled ’80s hair. Bev in particular bonds with mulleted Mark, the drummer in the dudes’ band (because of course they’re in a band).
Following the high of the concert, Alexis impulsively invites the guys to join the girls at her father’s isolated cabin in the woods. And by cabin, she actually means mansion. As everyone settles down outside the massive house with a red Solo cup in hand, Bev seems to get the jitters after discovering a switchblade in Mark’s jacket. When Alexis reassures Bev that they are sisters and will be okay, the two rejoin the party for a round of “Never Have I Ever.” The festivities take a dark turn when, after Alexis claims she has never drugged anyone’s drink, all three girls take a sip. Y I K E S. One by one, the three guys lose consciousness as they realize they, in fact, have been drugged.
When the boys are awakened, they are tied in a room marked with Satanic symbols. Are their abductors members of the Satanic cult committing murders throughout the Indiana countryside? Disappointingly, no.
As it turns out, Alexis is the daughter of the Reverend Butler, who leads the religious cult Daughters of the Dawn. The followers of this cult have been responsible for all of the recent Satanic murders, operating on a rotating schedule for homicide duty. This convoluted plan is all in service of driving the unsuspecting public to the comforting embrace of a religious cult when faced with the evils of Satanism. As Alexis remarks using eerily Trumpian rhetoric, “It doesn’t matter if it’s true; it only matters if people believe it.”
Of course, the plan doesn’t go entirely as expected when two of the dudes manage to escape. Meanwhile, Bev, still new to the cult lifestyle, has an increasing number of doubts about her commitment to highly illegal and immoral activities in the name of God. Things only get more complicated when Alexis’ stepmother unexpectedly arrives home, and the girls must cover their tracks while simultaneously coming up with creatively homicidal uses for hairspray.
Who will survive when the lights go out, “Heaven Is a Place on Earth” cranks out on the stereo, and a certain religious cult leader returns home?
3/5 Pink Panther Heads
I won’t deny there’s a lot to enjoy about this film’s setup. The ’80s metal looks are excellent, and I particularly relish all of the big (or crimped or mulleted) hair on display–and we’ve got some suitably evocative tunes to transport us. I’m here for a girl gang, especially if their bond is so strong they’ll be killing together in the name of Satan.
However, the number of twists just for the sake of having a twist is insufferable. Most importantly, I personally do not forgive this film for promising Satanic murder cults and then not delivering. The supposed big reveal is almost immediately taken away from us for the less intriguing/believable social commentary of religious extremists representing the true danger to our society. No arguments here, but…Satanic cults. Why give up that plot element for a religious cult?
On top of this, the major twist is not thought through. The film does give us a hint that the girls are not who they appear as Alexis struggles to remember the details of her first concert or identify basically any pop culture figures. However, beyond this, the film just demonstrates how poorly planned the cult’s actions are. One: rotating responsibilities for carrying out a series of executions is a recipe for disaster. More people committing murder for the first time = more people making amateurish mistakes. And, considering that part of the plan means giving repressed teen girls (young women? I don’t know how old these characters are supposed to be, honestly) a taste of freedom, it’s a wonder there are any members of the cult left.
There are also a series of confusing contradictions in the murder plan; first, Alexis claims the ritual will look like the work of a Satanic cult. Then, she tries to set up the boys’ deaths as a murder/suicide. Pick ONE. It also makes zero sense that the girls seem to impulsively choose their victims while at the concert. I’m not speaking from experience here, but it strikes me that the victims of your staged murder should be picked out well in advance. And there’s absolutely no reason they need to be metalheads; it’s stated quite clearly that the murders have nothing to do with their victims’ connection to the so-called music of Satan.
As if all this weren’t bad enough, the story ultimately undermines the characters’ agency and shows that their sisterhood is cheap. A group of teen girls committing Satanic murders is maybe not the most original premise for a film, but it’s one I would likely have enjoyed so much more than this. In the end, the girls are merely brainwashed to carry out someone else’s plan, which is deeply unsatisfying. Can women not even have a Satanic murder club without it being all about men???
Speaking of which, I really hated the end, and the degree to which Bev and Mark seemed to have some stupid unspoken connection. Bev was cool AF and the one I related to most with her constant snacking, but, in Mark’s position, I still wouldn’t trust her even a little bit. After Bev drugs him, plans his death, and is complicit in his friend’s murder, Mark is much too willing to believe her sudden change of heart and trust she will help him.
I did have fun watching this one, but I experienced a lot of frustrations along the way.
Would my blog wife bust out her trusty pentagram and stage a ritual murder with this one or come at it with a lighter and a can full of hairspray? Find out in her review!
There are few things I love more than sleep, especially in times of stress. My tired, worried brain is always on board for the moments during the day when it doesn’t have any connection to reality.
Of course, the times when I am most stressed (and handling things worst) are inevitably when my brain decides lying awake and worrying is the best way to cope.
Here are some irrational things my exhausted brain has tried to deal with sleepless nights–none of which have particularly worked. Perhaps, at the very least, these thoughts will leave you with the comfort that you’re not the only one with a strange, questionably functional mind.
Time travel sci-fi TV with an Occupy Wall Street theme
You know how certain shows seem to jump from one streaming service to another before suddenly disappearing altogether? I made the unfortunate discovery this fate had befallen the Canadian time travel show Continuum, which was so great and (like so much sci-fi) incredibly underrated. And, as stubborn insomniac brains are wont to do, my brain decided re-watching the show in the night’s wee hours was the only thing that would help me magically drift off to sleep–and, naturally, paid to stream all 4 seasons. Who could have guessed the explosions, terrorist plots, machine gun fire, and hostage situations happening regularly on the show wouldn’t be particularly conducive to a restful sleep?
New wave pop of the 1980s
Aztec Camera has been stuck in my head since “Somewhere in My Heart” was unexpectedly featured in the first film of Shark Month 2020, 47 Meters Down: Uncaged. Since then, my brain has decided the soundtrack of 2:00 A.M. includes The Jam, Elvis Costello, Squeeze, Eurythmics, Madness, and the Smiths (ugh Morrissey, I know). So perhaps not so much new wave as British artists with a lot of feelings and suspiciously upbeat rhythms masking angry social commentary?
I’ve tried the free versions of both Calm and Headspace within the past month and realized how strange the world of relaxation/meditation apps truly is. Calm is oddly committed to celebrity performances, including Stephen Fry narrating a stroll through the lavender fields of Provence and John McEnroe reading the rules of tennis. It also features a playlist of rain falling on leaves that’s been curated by LeBron James? Whatever the fuck that means. Headspace has its share of surreal experiences too, such as a soothing visit to an antiques shop that is home to a dog who trusts you intrinsically.
Video game playthroughs
Obviously it’s incredibly soothing to listen to the gentle sounds of fictional dragons burning other animals alive and occasionally pushing them from cliffs. Though, honestly, I’m talking about the late ’90s/early ’00s Spyro games for PS1, so there is actually an innocent charm to all of this. And if it makes you feel any better, the creatures in the original game were actually gems that had been transformed to give the illusion of being alive…or something like that. Also making my insomnia playlist are the choice-based games Life Is Strange and The Wolf Among Us, which both involve difficult ethical dilemmas with some terrible unintended consequences. Friends tell me there are also marble racing competitions and Tetris world championships available on YouTube.
Honestly, this is the biggest crock I’ve ever bought into, and I want to light the rest of the box on fire. Not only does this tea taste absolutely awful, but it also has zero effect on my ability to sleep. In fact, the only thing this tea is good for is making you get up to pee like 6 times in the night. Fuck the lying fucking bear on the box’s art who was probably already in hibernation mode before drinking this goddamn tea in the first place.
With all of this being said, I have to count myself lucky. Along with my friends and family, I’m in good health. And I have been able to continue working from home (knock on wood). I’m sure there’s part of my brain that knows this and is trying to do its bit by taking worrying into hyperdrive. So, on the one hand, you may say all I’m doing is needlessly losing sleep by sitting around and stressing about the state of the world. But to you I say I’m a goddamn hero right now, doing my part to prevent the spread of a deadly virus for which there is no cure.
And yeah, not sleeping.
How are you coping (and staying safe) during the novel coronavirus pandemic?
We often escape from reality on the Blog Collab with terrible horror, bad sci-fi, and cheesy rom-coms. Not so this month, which brings us biopics and true stories grounded wholly in reality. Well…as real as the life of a rock star can be.
The rise and fall (and rise?) of Mötley Crüe is recounted as the rock band contends with drug use, banging each other’s girlfriends, and the most rock ‘n roll problem of all: artistic differences.
Our narrator sets the tone accurately here by claiming the ’80s are the worst decade of all time: stirring up shallow outrage, using glib humor rather irritatingly, and managing to come off with a smug superiority. Oh, you wanted a glowing review reaffirming that rock lives forever? Sorry to break it to you, but nostalgia’s dead.
Lucky for us, we’re going to get insightful narration from all 4 major members of the band. Nikki Sixx (aka Lord Byron from the biopic Mary Shelley–this actor definitely has a type), founder of the band, grows up constantly fighting with a mother who blames him for driving his father away. At a fairly young age, Nikki decides he’s had enough of this situation and slices his arm open in rage, making accusations against his mother to guarantee he’ll be taken into foster care.
Tommy Lee, in contrast, has supportive parents who just sort of shrug when he raids his sister’s wardrobe. A mega fan of rock music, Tommy meets Nikki after a show that erupts in a massive fight. With his trusty drumsticks at the ready, Tommy convinces Nikki to make him the drummer in a new band just getting started.
Enter Mick Mars, advertising himself in the papers as a rude, aggressive guitarist. A few years older than his band mates and suffering from a degenerative bone disorder, Mick takes no shit from the kiddos in the band.
As the band is still missing a lead singer, Tommy suggests his old high school buddy Vince Neil. Nikki and Mick aren’t particularly thrilled with his vibe, but since our dude is charismatic AF, they decide to give him a chance.
After throwing around a few truly terrible band names, the group quickly decides on the name Mötley Crüe. In the spirit of rock ‘n roll, a massive fight between the band and audience erupts at their first gig. However, their unrestrained music and attitude gains them a loyal following, and it’s not long before they are signed with a record label and have their own manager.
Their career gets an additional boost when the band goes on tour with Ozzy, who I learned was once blonde and did things like lick his own piss off the ground (the blonde thing surprised me more, TBH).
Am I forgetting something? Oh, right–the massive amount of partying, drugs, and sleeping around that happens throughout. Everyone seems to be sleeping with everyone else’s girlfriend, but the band is typically too fucked up to give a shit.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the band’s carefree days are numbered. When Vince causes an accident while driving under the influence, passenger and fellow rocker Razzle dies, while the passengers of the other car are seriously injured. After serving just 19 days in prison(!????!?!?!?), Vince is released on the condition he stay sober. When everyone around you is shooting up heroin and chugging hard liquor, this is a rather challenging task.
Meanwhile, Tommy is marrying actress Heather Locklear. Nikki, serving as best man, arrives at the wedding high out of his mind. He later overdoses and is reported dead. After immediately shooting up a bunch of heroin (again), Nikki realizes he needs to get sober. However, sober Nikki = perfectionist asshole Nikki, and a falling out means Vince is leaving the band.
Soon after, Vince is hit with the devastating news that his young daughter has cancer. The band is dropped by the label, seeming to end the Crüe’s run. Can anything get the band back together?
2/5 Pink Panther Heads
Points earned for over-the-top ’80s rock fashions; points detracted for toxic masculinity.
As a viewer, I was frequently confused about the purpose of this film. It seems to approach the culture of ’80s rock excess somewhat wryly, yet there are so many goddamn scenes of sex, drug abuse, and fights that it also buys into the lifestyle. There are only so many times you can flash tits onscreen and claim it’s part of the ambiance. And there’s a scene where Vince basically uses The Secret to get a blowjob, which just makes him look like an absolute douche.
I have admittedly never coveted the rock star lifestyle, but I would hope with a music biopic I would learn something about the band that’s interesting or informs my understanding of the music. Wow–Mötley Crüe really leaned into their rock star image Color me surprised. While I did find the story of Vince’s daughter upsetting, overall this film feels like a very surface-level examination of the band rather than offering much to reflect on.
There’s also so much unnecessary narration and breaking of the 4th wall that the film frequently feels like an unholy union of Scrubs and The Office. We get it: talking directly to the camera means you’re aware of the absurdity of your own experiences. So impressive.
All of this being said, our 4 leads are great. Their distinct personalities come across even when the characters all have the same haircut. And the charisma, the sense of fun, and the dedication to rock are very much there in the approach to the roles. I just have very little patience for watching so many men run around as giant man babies for most (if not all) of their lives.
Would my blog wife tie the knot without a prenup or fire this one before it can quit? Read her review here to find out!
Sometimes (and always) we’re so in tune on the Blog Collab that we do the same things whether we intend to or not. Our latest brainwave came in the form of the Netflix original GLOW. We were there for the glam ‘80s hair and glitter, but stayed for the zany wrestling personas and the show’s surprising emotional depth. This month is inspired by GLOW, and the documentary that spawned the TV show is kicking us off to celebrate the Gorgeous Ladies of the Blog Collab, or: GLOBC…? Doesn’t have quite the same ring as GLOW.
GLOW: The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling
Where to Watch:
The Uncondensed Version:
In case you haven’t watched the original ‘80s show or the updated Netflix series, GLOW was the first women’s wrestling show on TV. It was surprisingly successful, especially considering that it began as more or less one extended infomercial…with comedy sketch bits, song/dance numbers, and some rather cringey rapping.
Despite the blatant sexism and stereotyping, the women cast on GLOW consider it revolutionary as it allowed them to feel strong and empowered while looking and feeling fab.
The show did not begin with great promise–Mando, a real wrestler, trained the women (hired mostly based on looks rather than wrestling prowess) in a run-down gym without proper equipment or safety practices. After training, things sped along quickly as the GLOW ladies were moved to a hotel in Vegas (because, honestly, where else would this have happened if not Vegas). As depicted in the show, the ladies are supposed to always stay in character and obey strict rules on curfews and partying.
One of the few wrestlers on the show was Matilda the Hun, who had been trying in vain to find wrestling partners. She was so hardcore she once literally wrestled a bear and may be my new personal hero.
Initially, the creator of the show clashed with the director, who envisioned an over-the-top, campy variety show. These issues were quickly resolved as the director was also the one with the money behind him. Some of the ladies look back fondly on their working relationship with the director, while others think he was borderline abusive.
Several of the more memorable personas were Big Bad Mama, a Louisiana voodoo priestess, and the Heavy Metal sisters, who cut things up with a chainsaw and lit shit on fire in the ring. Ninotchka was the Russian stereotype whose confidence boosted the wrestler herself and made her feel powerful. The wrestler shares a rather touching moment when she realized her boyfriend was in love with her persona’s confidence–not her.
Just as Machu Picchu is the heart and soul of the Netflix show, Mt. Fiji is the star of the original GLOW (and the documentary). Fiji was an Olympian and by all accounts the sweetest lady on the show. It’s heartbreaking to see her current health problems that have largely confined her to a hospital bed. Many of the women suffered injuries and dead-end careers after GLOW‘s abrupt cancellation. Several speculate the businessman funding the show stopped because of marital problems that arose as he spent so much time with all of the ladies of GLOW.
Because the show ended so suddenly, no one felt a sense of closure…which is about to change when one of the wrestlers decides to host a reunion. If you don’t get emotional seeing the ladies of GLOW reunited, you may have a heart of stone.
4.5/5 Pink Panther Heads
Like the new Netflix show, there is plenty of glitter and over-the-top wrestling mayhem along with lots of heart. It’s really hard to see the physical and emotional toll the years of wrestling took on these women even though all seem to remember the show fondly whether they found happiness and success in later years or not. Though all of the ladies were thrilled to be part of a ground-breaking series, they also suffered greatly at the hands of the entertainment industry. Like most things to emerge from the ’80s: come for the glitter, stay for the genuine heart.
Would my Gorgeous Lady of the Blog Collab hit it with a bodyslam and leave it down for the count…or crown it champion of the ring (and the collab)? Read her review here to find out!
April brings us another round of Blog Free or Die Hard, one of my favorite themes next to Ewan McGregor/Hellraiser month…and every other theme of the blog collab. This week we opt for a throwback featuring John Travolta, dramatic ’80s scores, and sketchy, sketchy payphones.
Where to Watch:
Netflix UK apparently
The Uncondensed Version:
John Travolta has been the sound editor for low-budget horror for the past couple of years. It’s a living. The latest picture is presenting a challenge, as he can’t seem to get some of the sounds right, in particular the screams of the slasher victims in the film. To gather sounds for the film, he decides to somewhat sketchily hang around parks at night and record general nature sounds. What could possibly go wrong? You might ask. Naturally, JT (conveniently, for both John Travolta and his character, Jack Terri) sees something he’s not supposed to see…or rather hears something he shouldn’t.
Just before a car dives headlong into the river, passengers inside, JT hears a gunshot and realizes this crash isn’t an accident. His deep sense of moral conviction doesn’t permit him to remain a bystander, so he jumps in shortly thereafter to help the surviving passenger, a young woman (of course).
While at the hospital, JT learns the victim of the car crash was none other than the fictional Governor McRyan, top contender for the presidential nomination in the upcoming election. JT is encouraged to keep quiet about the presence of the young woman as this news would only upset McRyan’s family further. He reluctantly agrees to do what seems like the honorable thing…but is it?
The young woman, Sally, is very confused and agitated in the hospital and eager to leave. JT brings her to a motel so she can rest, but also so he can obsessively play his recording of the crash to figure out what happened with the accident and why. Meanwhile, we learn someone really is destroying and covering up evidence surrounding the crash. Spoiler alert: It’s John Lithgow. As we learn soon after, John Lithgow escalates things super fucking quickly.
JT tries to get more information out of Sally about her relationship with McRyan, but she doesn’t take well to this line of questioning. At this point JT does get really fucking irritating and insists they get a drink since he did save her life and all. FFS, save a woman from drowning because it’s the right thing to do—not because you expect her to get a goddamn drink with you.
Annoyingly, they do get a drink, but mostly so we can learn about JT’s tragic backstory investigating police corruption. I sometimes worry about the lack of empathy I have for characters in realistic scenarios, but his story came off as a bit melodramatic and led to some pretty cringey Travolta overacting.
As it turns out, Sally has a dark past of her own, and was part of a conspiracy to ruin McRyan’s political career. This is apparently all too much for the honorable JT, who you know…probably never saw anything worse in his days of investigating police corruption.
But to return to John Lithgow. Remember how he was going to take shit too far suddenly? As part of the conspiracy to eliminate McRyan from the competition, John Lithgow decided to just straight-up eliminate him by shooting out his car tire. But the plan included Sally’s death and, since she’s one of the few people who can tie all of this back to the conspirators, she needs to die. John Lithgow actually becomes a serial killer with a fucking garrote watch and all, targeting sex workers who look like Sally so her death won’t seem too out of the ordinary. TWIS. TED.
What will happen when John Lithgow poses as a journalist trying to get all of the evidence connecting him to the crime? If you’re squaring off with someone who has a garrote watch, it’s probably not going to end well.
4/5 Pink Panther Heads
The plot is solid, and John Lithgow is obv a delight. To the extent sociopathic serial killers with goddamn murder watches can be considered a delight. In true film noir style, the entire movie is incredibly dark, and the ending doesn’t shy away from that. This is an indictment on politics, Hollywood, the media…virtually every angle of American life. Since some of the elements of this film are right out of the ’80s thriller playbook, I expected a cop-out ending, but ended up really impressed.
On the other hand, there’s just something that vaguely irritates me about John Travolta no matter what…? I think I watched Grease too much growing up, and he was one of the first men to disappoint me with his stupid expectations for women.
I also had such a problem with the roles for women in this film, who are all props without exception. I really wanted to like Sally, but she just felt like a pawn with no real dimension, and she was soooooooooooooooooooooooo naïve for a woman who agreed to a sleazy plot to set up a politician, And as a minor point of irritation–her voice was really grating. She brought up shades of Lina Lamont from Singin’ in the Rain to me. Is it me or is Lina Lamont still more of a feminist icon than Sally in this movie?
Would Christa dive off a bridge for this one or let it sleep with the fishes? Read her review here to find out!