IT'S A WONDERFULL LIFE!

 

The Exorcist 3 is a slice of pitch black cinema, of smothering atmospheric horror from which there is no salvation; completely unrepentant and unflinching in its delivery.  It’s heavy stuff and there is no silver lining.  The characters are all doomed, battling for their very souls, and the devil is winning. 

I first saw Exorcist 3 as a young boy; bless HBO and its late night excursions into horror.  It shook me to the core.  Like a bad memory I buried it and left the grave unmarked in my mind.  I could only remember images from the movie but not the name or context.  I could remember a woman walking on the ceiling like a fly, unnoticed by the people below.  I remember a long shot of a hallway, and a killer with large scissors pursuing a young orderly.  I remember a prisoner in a cell, a dark man with a voice like nails on a chalkboard, and a feeling of all consuming dread.   

Years later I rediscovered the horror.  From the first shot, with the slow “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” of helicopter blades and the camera scrawl over a quant New England town, I felt myself once again fall in step with the cadence of horror to come.  There is a cacophony of wails, images of a church steeple, doors violently fly open; my intestines tighten like a rope.  The Gemini killer is loose on the streets of this quant New England town, preying on innocence, perfecting his craft.  At the center of it all is a detective struggling with the evil of this world, questioning his faith, questioning how a dead man came back to life in a blasphemous mockery of Jesus’ resurrection.  There’s a voice over “I dreamed….I fell down a long flight of stairs…”; on the surface it’s a reference to the first Exorcist and Damien’s death, but I can’t help but mull over whether this is a statement directed more towards the viewer and the symbolic journey they are about to take into the heart of evil, down the stairway to hell.  And that’s precisely what this movie is; a long descent into darkness, one that I make many times a year.

IT’S A WONDERFULL LIFE!

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Check it out...a first look at THE COLLECTION...it's not much but I'm jazzed.

 

The Collector

The Collector is a guilty pleasure of mine.  When it hit the big screen I had nary a clue what it was all about, only that it was some slasher movie written by the guys who wrote some Saw sequels.  I wasn't exactly hooked..  SAW is unapologetic about gore...yes...but there wasn't much to come back to and the twists often seemed forced and full of more holes than an Italian cruise ship.  One night I was particularly bored with the normal bloodshed and brutality.  I wanted to see something new, so I emerged from the tomb on the prowl for cinematic depravity, and I think I found it with The Collector.  I went to the local cinema and picked the closest approximate thing to my gutter puppy tastes.

 Besides it being a slasher, an attempted franchise ramp up, there is really no good reason for me to like this film.  The main protagonist isn't very sympathetic, and makes one very dumb move that puts him back into danger towards the end (an alternate ending available on disc acknowledges this gaff).  The cat and mouse semantics of the film shouldn't work.  Hell the semantics of everything shouldn't work in this.  The killer manages to setup trap after deadly trap, elaborate things that would take a normal person hours to pull off, in mere minutes off screen.  Part of me wants to suspend my belief and say "well, we don't know how long it's been since the protagonist (Corkin) left the house that day and came back", but the movie points out the time crunch by making all the action take place in the same day.  The Collector's motivation isn't exactly clear either.  We can assume he collects things, people, stuff, but none of this really happens in the movie.  He kidnaps two people in total, not exactly "collector" status.  And it has some of that music video editing that I dread like chicken pox.

But besides all that nonsense I liked the movie and am guilty for it.  Guilty of bad taste.  Guilty of supporting trash.  Lock me up, throw away the key, I admit to it all...I liked The Collector and didn't care that it was brainless shock schlock.  I liked all the parallel images they drew between the Collector and spiders.  His insect reflective eyes and movements set him apart from other stalk and slashers, and the whole trapping bit is new.  It might not make much logical sense, but somehow it worked for me.  It wasn't exactly as suspenseful but I was morbidly interested, and continue to be.  I re-watched this last night and still thought I liked it, despite my brain telling me I shouldn't, I couldn't...no not me!  I've seen it about ten times since watching it in the theater, and I still like it.

I guess I'm just very interested in the bad guy.  I want to know what he's doing with these people, where his obsession comes from, what his collection actually looks like.  I enjoyed his creep spider-like prowl, his strange gait, his careful planning and execution...I want to see more...

So who's going with me to see THE COLLECTION when it rolls out?

A dark day descends on the city.  The sky opens and bleeds its tears upon the weary.  It's time to leave the dregs of urban society.  It's time to escape the stench of the city landscape and its rich aroma of human feces and sweaty desperation.  Cropsy's Cryptkeeper seeks a new tomb...the search continues...

Meanwhile I've been watching Halloween 2, and noticing new things each time, even on the billionth approximate viewing, I see something new.  This week I caught Myers passing a trick or treater dressed as the grim reaper.  The irony in Halloween 2 is thick.  It's thick with treats and tricks and death.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  I can almost smell the sickly sweat scent of October approaching.  But first we have a summer to look for to...hopefully I find a new camp soon, new killing grounds, a new Blackfoot...

Also on the regular rotation is Exorcist 3.  It frayed my nerves as a kid and I've been addicted since.  Part supernatural horror, part slasher pinache, part hard boiled detective pulp, Exorcist 3 fires on all cylinders, all spewing pea soup and blood.  I love it and mark it as a personal favorite.  One of the darkest films ever, with so many great lines and some utterly fantastic performances. 

Recently purchased some pine green coveralls.  If it was socially acceptable, actually scratch that I couldn't care less what's socially acceptable, if my job allowed it I would wear coveralls all the time.  For the Halloween purist in me I had to pick the same color coveralls as THE SHAPE.  And that's right, they're green, not blue.  Now all I need are the green socks.