One of my childhood trauma inducing characters (along with STEPHEN KING’s IT – God, that movie made going to the toilet/taking a bath/cleaning your teeth/walking past drains terrifying for years!) was from an Australian T.V. advertisement in the late ‘80s. Most likely between ‘86 and ‘89 when I was at my most impressionable.

I saw the ad broadcast on a 6pm nightly news program, as at the time it was considered quite controversial. I remember the newsreader forebodingly saying, “If you have young children you may want to ask them to leave the room now.” I looked sidelong at my Mum and she didn’t respond, which I was quite happy about. I don’t remember specifics but I believe it was in black and white and set during a funeral at a graveyard. There were sobbing relatives and the camera was following the coffin being carried by two men into the back of a hearse. I remember thinking at this point that it was totally lame and not scary at all and that I was obviously pretty awesome for not being affected, but then it happened! The driver of the hearse turned around and he was some kind of horrifying werewolf-esque monster!! This shocked me more than pretty much anything, ever. I think it was a warning ad of some kind, maybe smoking, AIDS, cancer? I’ve tried searching the web with what I know and turned up nothing.

Obviously, I pretended that I didn’t care so my Mum wouldn’t think I was a wuss bag and went to bed as normal not long after. For that night and many, many after I would lie awake in a state of absolute terror seeing the werewolf hearse driver and IT standing in my bedroom doorway, casting long ominous shadows into my room from the hall light, waiting for me to fall asleep so they could come and get me.

I’ve never really lived down this fear although now it’s been replaced by more grown-up fears like demonic possession (thanks to an UNEXPLAINED MYSTERIES style documentary when I was 11), RINGU-esque Japanese yokai stalkers and this bloody image that I know is probably faked but still scares the crap out of me if I start thinking about it in the dark. (See the freaky escaped-mental-patient looking ghost child in the background.)

Thanks for all the great movie recommendations – you guys have horror movie viewing persistence to be admired! xxoo

UNK SEZ: We had so much fun with our pal Amanda by Night last week that we asked her to stop by and host the Kindertrauma Funhouse once again. She’s got some real toughies for you kids this time. After you’ve made some guesses, make sure you stop by her home base MADE FOR TV MAYHEM for even more made for television fun!

Hey, thanks for all the retro-trauma, and thanks for linking my blog in your sidebar.

I’ve just spent some time looking back at every “Name That Trauma” post from your most excellent site, and was unable to find any reference to my film in question. I saw it at the theater in 1975 or 1976 as a five or six-year-old, and I’m assuming it was first-run. It was a matinee, but not a kiddie film, as I recall some PG-level sexual content. The most traumatizing bit was a woman with white hair and white skin who was out in the woods and threatening some people in a cabin. She had no lines, but just snarled at the camera. More specifically, there was a Native American Shaman-guy who had some magical powers. At one point, he dumps some powder out of a small leather bag on his belt to create a line across a road. A car drives up and smashes into it, as if it were an invisible wall. That’s about all I remember.

I’m sure this movie actually happened. I’d love to see it again to check if that white-skinned woman is as horrifying as I remember, or just laughable in retrospect. Won’t someone help?

When I was 4-ish (1978), the big thing for me to watch was public television. WETA Channel 26. MR. ROGERS, SESAME STREET, and THE ELECTRIC COMPANY.

I don’t think we got cable until 1981 (when I was 7) or so… Back when A&E and Nick were the same channel, there were 5 movie channels (everyone knows about HBO, Cinemax, Showtime, and even The Movie Channel, but few people remember the Home Theatre Network), and HBO wasn’t descrambled but was set at the tap for your house. (Meaning I could get it in my room via a cable split without a cable box, unlike the descrambled channels.)

You know what the most memorable moment of all that programming was for me? Not a specific show, but the period of silence between SESAME STREET and THE ELECTRIC COMPANY; the period of time where the screen is completely black for an unpredictable amount of time (TV programming was not necessarily run by computers back then, and WETA 26 was, after all, a local public station), followed by someone insanely screaming “HEEEYY YOOOOUUU GUYYYYYYYSSSSS!” and THE ELECTRIC COMPANY logo.

Anyway… The silence between the two shows scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t scared of the “Hey You Guys!” scream as much as the anticipation of waiting for it to happen. It filled my adrenal gland and my soul with a sense of dread. The same sense of dread I feel today if I wake up and notice that the music has inexplicably stopped playing. Is the power out? Did my computer fry? Will I be able to sleep without anything to entertain me enough to keep my thoughts from madly racing?

I’ve never been a fan of silence. I listen to music 24/7/365. I don’t sit in silence. Period. Ever. Even if I’m sitting outside in the middle of the woods, alone, I’m going to be projecting my hearing as far as possible, trying to hear as many different sounds as possible. It took me awhile to realize that my dislike of silence goes all the way back to the 1970s. At least I’m consistent.

— Clint

I recall that when I was in high school, there were a variety of educational, “after school special” kind of shows that would air on one of the local public access channels. They were all pretty old (from the ‘70s and ‘80s, and they dealt with the subjects that one would come to expect from such programming (alcoholism, dating, illness, friendships, etc.)

When I was 18, in the spring of 2000, (maybe a little too old to be scared by a public access show??), I was home early from school after exams. I happened to flip to the public access channel, which was airing a show about a young mother living with HIV. She had two young children, and I believe she had moved in with her sister so her sister could help care for her and her kids. This all sounds fairly innocuous, and at first it was. However, during the last 10 minutes or so, things began to change. First, there was a scene where the kids and their mother were playing a board game (maybe Monopoly?) because they were stuck inside due to the rain. The scene cuts to the kitchen, and all of a sudden one of the kids runs into the room and yells, “Aunt so-and-so, mommy cut her hand in the living room and there’s blood everywhere!!” Then you see the mother with her bloody hand wrapped in a towel or something.

Things became even more unsettling in the next scene (after the bleeding had stopped). It’s the middle of the night, and the mother is sitting alone in her bedroom with the lights on, and she’s staring into a mirror, covered in sweat, and sobbing. The camera then zoomed in on her face, all sweaty and teary, and lingered there for about ten seconds before her sister came in and consoled her. That scene really freaked the shit out of me. What added to the creepiness of this show was the face of the woman who played the mother; she had a really nasty, curly brown rats’ nest of hair, and her features were very harsh and angular. I recall that her lips were very thin and almost pursed as well.

The last thing I remember is that the show ended with the woman and her sister saying the rosary on the porch, and during the credits, the name of some Catholic production company came up. I don’t know if anyone out there has seen this, but it really disturbed me at the time I saw it. I really love the site, and I hope someone out there has seen this show and was also disturbed by it. Thanks!

I guess every horror movie dealing with religious themes born after 1973 must get up in the morning, brush its teeth, look in the mirror and say solemnly to itself, “I’m not THE EXORCIST.” STIGMATA’s morning ritual must be more disheartening than most; “I’m not THE EXORCIST, CHUMBAWUMA plays over my opening credits AND I take place in Pittsburgh.” Keep passing those open windows STIGMATA!

Actually, me thinks this flashy fin de siecle spooker merely masquerades as an EXCORCIST wannabe, what it secretly wants to dress up as is THE THORN BIRDS. Seriously, the “will they or won’t they?” electricity between wacky hairdresser/inflatable chair connoisseur Frankie Paige (PATRICIA ARQUETTE) and pasty and chastey smolder-boulder Father Andrew Kierman (monolith beaked, black Irish centerfold GABRIEL BYRNE) is of such wattage that I couldn’t stop hearing the theme from MOONLIGHTING in my head.

I’d loved to delve into the horrific aspects of STIGMATA, but they are virtually non-existent. My advice is, break out the Häagen-Dazs and sweat pants; this is a sexually repressed girly-girl goth fantasy on par with TWILIGHT. All the supernatural elements on display here seem tailor made to allow Frankie to get all googly eyed and date-rapey over an unavailable man without ever having to worry about loosing face. First her wrists begin to bleed (every cutter knows this is a great way to catch your dreamdate’s eye) then she gets possessed (the perfect excuse to say inappropriate things without ever being accountable) and needless to say, ultimately an outdoor café is involved. Hey, I’m not judging, we are talking about GABBY BYRNE here.

Sadly for horror fans Frankie doesn’t even bother getting possessed by Satan, instead she is forced to be the spokesperson for a dead priest who’s got a super secret message from Jesus that the church would rather you not hear. Yes, the church is EVIL in STIGMATA! Apparently Jesus meant to tell you that you can worship him from home and that you don’t even have to bother going to church. Wha-wha-what? Nice going Jesus, while you’re at it, why not just tell everybody that McDonald’s secret sauce is really just Thousand Island Dressing? Some of us are trying to make a living down here, ya know!

STIGMATA is indisputable trash, hardly horror and very noticeably uninterested in its own subject matter yet it does possess a certain come hither Lifetime movie charm that’s difficult to completely renounce. Director RUPERT WAINRIGHT (who would later take a dump in a handbag and call it a remake of THE FOG) goes completely overboard with the visuals, so much so that much of the movie feels like being trapped in a very leaky URBAN OUTFITTERS, but oh, doesn’t 1999 look sparkly and adorable in its naiveté? Maybe I’m just a Mr. Softy for MTV flavored tales sprinkled with unrequited love, but I’d slap the hand of anyone who tried to turn this shit off. I kinda always knew I had the heart of a teenage girl but STIGMATA proves that I have the heart of a not very bright teenage girl with buck teeth, glasses and a regrettable perm.

The nicest thing I can say about Legion is that it’s conventional.  All of the elements and characters you’d expect from a siege movie are here — a remote location (deserts work best), a stranger with a past, a single mom, a bickering married couple, a wise black guy, a local bohunk who can’t live up to his full potential as long as he stays in this dead-end town, and a dude that shows up out of nowhere and starts barking orders because he’s the only one that knows exactly what’s going on.  You even get the “don’t open that door or we’re all dead” scene several times, which, in all honesty, kind of loses its impact after the first time when they don’t end up “all dead”.

What sets Legion apart is its faithful devotion to spiritual hooey.  The gist is that God is fed up with “all the bullshit” (as explained to us in Adrienne Palicki’s voiceover at the start of the film and repeated verbatim at the end, for those of us who can’t remember things that happened ninety minutes ago).  He sends the archangel Michael (Paul Bettany) down to a greasy-spoon diner to kill the unborn baby of Palicki’s character, Charlie, for no specific reason (Some lip service is paid to Charlie’s baby being the thing that will save mankind, whatever that means.  This movie doesn’t like dealing in specifics).  Michael changes his mind, decides to save the baby, and basically screws things up for the whole world — causing an unstoppable horde of angel-possessed human monsters and rival archangel Gabriel (Kevin Durand, most famous for playing lunkheads) to try and finish the job.

The first angel-possessed person appears as a kindly old granny before spitting out a couple of unexpected f-bombs and scampering up the ceiling like a bug in a lunatic scene that provides about ten seconds worth of consideration that the movie might actually be entertaining.  When that attack is followed by one from an ice cream man, I started to wonder if the film would continue presenting goody-goody archetypes one-after-the-other only to shock you with the revelation that they were indeed monsters in disguise.  I was right.  The next attack featured a pretty little girl with a sundress and a balloon.  The one after that had an adorable toddler with an Eight is Enough Adam Rich bowl cut.

They do break things up a bit by having a demolition derby car crammed with punk rockers get theirs at the end of a machine gun wielded by the Stranger with a Past (Tyrese Gibson), an image that defines Legion’s retarded sensibilities.  The whole movie is that nonsensical,trying to force siege movie cliches to marry something that resembles Constantine, if Constantine was being retold to you by a grade schooler.  Nothing is ever explained in a worthwhile fashion, nothing ever pays off, nothing ever excites.  Director Scott Stewart’s idea of an action scene consists entirely of someone firing a gun in every direction.

His horror scenes are equally incomprehensible.  In one, a character is not just crucified upside-down (what?), but he’s covered in computer-generated throbbing boils that eventually explode, causing another character’s back to be wounded to the point where his spine is completely exposed.  It’s a “huh, cool” gore moment that also makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Legion’s other problem is its chemistry-free cast.  Adrienne Palicki, the least well-known member of the cast, is also about the only one who doesn’t come across as completely awful.  Lucas Black, on the other hand, gives a career-worst performance as that local bohunk I mentioned earlier.  He’s earnest — oh, so very earnest –delivering his every twangy line with a furrowed brow and his very best intense stare.  Charles S. Dutton (as the wise black guy), usually reliable, overshoots his acting, turning drama into melodrama.  Dennis Quaid (playing Black’s dad) gives the kind of performance you’d expect from someone who sees themselves as better than the material.  Bettany is completely out of his element as a B-movie action hero, too stuffy to be having a lick of fun, too self-important to be the slightest bit self-aware.

Ultimately, Legion doesn’t work for the exact same reasons.  It doesn’t seem to be aware that its following in the footsteps of a couple dozen similar (and better) films.  By giving the siege movie a religious spin, it wants to be taken as deadly serious and geek chic cool.  I would never describe Legion as fun (it needed way more scenes like the one with granny; less scenes of Durand and Bettany waxing philosophical on the wants and needs of an angry God), but I would describe it as dumb.  I don’t think that’s what they were going for.

The trailers for THE BOOK OF ELI did nothing for me.  It looked like an over-stylized yet still monotone vision of the future banking on Denzel Washington’s inherently badass attitude and a number of quickly cut together action scenes.  Plus, it’s been 8 years since the Hughes Brothers made a movie, so buzzing the production as the latest film from the Hughes Brothers is meaningless to me.  It is with great relief, then, that I’m happy to report, to my own surprise, I liked THE BOOK OF ELI.  Truth is, I almost even loved it.

Don’t let the marketing fool you.  The Hughes Brothers have delivered a unique meditation on life after the end of times that does its best to be the polar opposite of everything the trailer looked like.  Denzel Washington plays the titular character (Eli, not the book), a man who has dedicated his life to walking west on a mission, a mission I will be touching upon below.  I’m not going to be spoiling anything huge (or non-obvious), but if you know next to nothing about THE BOOK OF ELI and want to keep it that way, I leave you here with a simple verdict: Yes, it’s worth a trip to the theater.

The world has gone to shit.  Gary Whitta’s script doesn’t spell out the particulars of what brought about Armageddon, but the severe lack of population density and decimated landscape looks like every nation in the world with the means to do so pressed the button.  Minuscule pockets of people managed to survive the apocalypse, however, and the story follows our hero, Eli, and his often fatal interactions with other wasteland wanderers on his slow, west-bound trek across total desolation.  He encounters a man named Carnegie (Gary Oldman) who runs a small town that has access to trickles of precious H2O.  Carnegie, it is established, is looking for an unnamed book that he calls “a weapon”…

The movie doesn’t tell you right away, but you’d have to be not only blind but completely ignorant not to figure out that the mysterious leather-bound book that Eli spends every night reading and every day protecting like its the water purification chip for Vault 13 or the Garden of Eden Creation Kit is, in fact, the Bible.  But before you assume that Warner Brothers has put out a movie with a message that says only God can save all of mankind, let me dispel that assumption.  THE BOOK OF ELI is not advocating any religion.  It’s not saying the world needs Christianity to function.  Its only commentary is on faith; on how simply believing in something – anything – can motivate the mind beyond the body’s ravaged limitations.  One of the (many) things I like about the Hughes Brothers’ film and Whitta’s script is that it’s still not that simple.

To talk about why it’s not that simple would indeed be revealing things a review shouldn’t, but regardless of which side of the ideological fence the film ultimately teeters on to (and there’s little question where it falls), it’s still an interesting premise that the Hughes Brothers leverage to give the film extra dimensions worth further examination.  But let’s not forget that this site is called Horror’s Not Dead, so I’ll step away from the ideas the film rolls around with and talk about why it should appeal to anyone reading a site called Horror’s Not Dead.

For starters, death rarely looks this striking on the big screen.  I’m not talking about just the people, though they are often dispatched in the most glorious ways by a convincingly hardcore Denzel Washington wielding a long, lethal machete.  The whole package is a magnificent portrait of what happens when everything kicks the bucket.  People, animals, buildings, dreams…all of civilization.  The directing pair do a fantastic job of convincing us everything we know now has been laid waste.  An accomplishment made possible by hiring not just great actors – Washington and Oldman are great, but the supporting cast of Ray Stevenson, Michael Gambon, Tom Waits, and even Mila Kunis are all up to the bar set by the film’s leads – and not just with an outstanding sense of visual style, but by delivering a sound design so strong that even non-audiophiles should pick up on its vivid purpose.

The main thing holding THE BOOK OF ELI back from being an outright excellent film is a waffling final act that’s capped off with a poorly executed ending.  The actual resolution of the story isn’t a problem, but how the ending treats certain characters is just plain poor.  And that’s unfortunate, because everything leading up to it is really something special.  The action choreography is top notch throughout and is even, at times, a thing of dark, blood-spilling beauty.  Acting is everything you expect from the big names and even more from the littler ones.  The cinematography will swallow you up in damn near every shot.  The vigilant sound design heightens every layer of the experience.  And all of this is in service of interesting ideas that will,  flaws and all, render THE BOOK OF ELI a topic worth talking about anytime post-apocalyptic movies are brought up.

Having not actually seen the film, I’m not one to smite it just yet, but I think it’s safe to say you already know whether or not this is something you’d like to have in your collection.  So head on up to the contact button in the top right of this page and make use of your keyboard.  Send me an email with the subject line “H2 For Free Please” and you’re good to go.  Let’s say you have until Thursday at noon CST to accomplish this burdensome task.

If you need a reminder of what JU-ON: THE GRUDGE is, I point you towards this HND post titled “I Will Shit My Pants Playing This Game“.  Or you can read my full review at HorrorSquad, that will probably do a better job explaining whether it is actually any good.  Spoiler alert: it will drive you crazy.

Oh, and a big thanks to XSEED and friends for letting me give away a copy!

I’m such a sucker for movies set entirely in one location.

January 5th:

Ah, THE FINAL DESTINATION.  I hate to go for the obvious pun here, but, well, let’s all hope it’s the actual final chapter in a series that has been going down hill for the better part of a decade.  But hey, it’s the only major release of the week, so unless you’re dying to shell out some money for the WICKED LAKE Blu-ray (and if you are, please don’t admit it), this is about as good as it gets the first week of January.

January 12th:

Fuck me, 2010 is not getting off to a good start.  First we get the new worst entry in a series where death is the invisible ghost of Rube Goldberg and now we get the new worst movie made by Rob Zombie, which is a feat unto itself.  I think I may finally get around to reviewing HALLOWEEN II.  Should be a nice refresher vocabulary course, as I’ll need to look up new ways to say “It’s a piece of shit.”

Other titles of the week include something called DARK RAGE and a DVD four pack that includes GOTHIKA, QUEEN OF THE DAMNED, DREAMCATCHER , and GHOST SHIP.  Note, the product description does not clarify whether said four pack also comes with smelling salts to wake you from the stuppor watching said four pack will put you in.

On a sci-fi note, do yourself a favor and blind buy Duncan Jones’ MOON.

January 19th:

And the hits just keep on coming.  If you’d like to watch Kate Beckinsale slowly undress from a bulky parka to a sports bra, then WHITEOUT (review) is right up your alley.  If you like good movies, then WHITEOUT is nowhere near your alley.  In fact, it’s so bad that the promise of a very, very briefly and PG-13 sexualized Beckinsale is not in any way worth the price of admission.

Next up is BLOOD CREEK, previously known as TOWN CREEK, which is a movie you’d be excused for not knowing exists.  I’ve actually heard pretty decent things about this Joel Schumacher directed flick, which Lionsgate quietly (and briefly) dropped into dollar theaters in 2009, so it’s probably worth a rental.

From there things shape up even more in the form of PANDORUM, a flick I kind of regret missing in theaters after it get decent, almost apologetic word of mouth.  Don’t really care for any of the cast beyond Ben Foster – and Paul W.S. Anderson’s name isn’t very encouraging – but set a horror movie on a spaceship and I’m automatically in.

January 26th:

Will today finally see me actually laying down money to own a SAW film?  I think so.  After all, SAW VI (review) was one of the most pleasant surprises horror had to offer last year.  Can I imagine myself watching it over and over?  Nah, but the Blu-ray will definitely find itself on my shelf eventually.

Beyond that, however, we’ve got a couple catalog titles (here’s looking at you original TOOLBOX MURDERS on Blu) and a couple scrappy-looking straight-to-video movies (Frank “BASKET CASE” Henenlotter’s BAD BIOLOGY streets, though Amazon doesn’t have a picture) to round out a rather meager month’s worth of horror movie offerings.

Oh, and though it’s been available for rental in America and purchase in Canada for months now, the fascinating experiment that is PONTYPOOL (review) should finally be stocked on your local shelves come this Tuesday.

Netflixing the Month:

1. SAW 6
2. PANDORUM
3. BAD BIOLOGY
4. BLOOD CREEK
5. WHITEOUT
6. THE FINAL DESTINATION
7. HALLOWEEN 2

I had an interest in the Swamp Thing television show when I was in high school, based on my enjoyment of the 1982 Wes Craven film which used to be a cable mainstay in the early-80’s when I was a kid. My high school friend, Craig, wasn’t really that much into comics, but it was the early-90’s — everyone was buying them. Somehow Craig ended up with a Swamp Thing: Love and Death trade paperback and, probably finding it way too weird, gave it to me. He knew I watched the TV show, and he knew I was open to DC books (A lot of kids, and I’m sure this continues today, were strictly Marvel only. Then, Marvel and Image only.)

My mind was blown. Within these pages were nightmare visions of hell, leering demons, supernatural heroes, funky aliens, and psychedelic vegetable sex. The language was more poetic than anything I’d read in a comic book before; the images more grotesque than my imagination allowed. This comic book scared me.

First of all, and there’s no avoiding it, Steve Bisette’s art is truly unpleasant. There’s a little bit of cartoonish, re-assuring Mike Ploog in the collection, and some Bernie Wrightson too, but most of the book is Bisette’s unnerving line work. Bisette is primal. It took me a little while to appreciate his toothy humans and busy, fractured panels, but the marriage of Bisette’s organic psychedelia and just plain 100% pure horror with Moore’s truly disturbing concepts is one of the greatest pairings of writer and artist in the history of comics. Bisette’s work is sometimes beautiful, but almost always uncomfortable to look at. It’s easy to see how the genius of the man was never intended for mainstream comic work.

The main story in Love and Death is the tale of Swamp Thing’s descent into hell to save the soul of his beloved Abby Arcane, dragged there by her dead uncle (and Swamp Thing arch-nemesis) Anton Arcane. Within that story, Moore gets to play with the spookier heroes of the DCU — Deadman, The Phantom Stranger, and The Demon — as they assist Swamp Thing on his journey to find Abby and restore her soul to her dead body on Earth. Growing up, I was never a fan of the supernatural heroes from either company, but Moore’s approach was unlike anything I’d seen before. Swamp Thing’s journey was spiritual in a way that rang true — fueled by love, through things no man should witness.

The scene where Swamp Thing discovers Anton Arcane’s punishment in hell still gets to me, the old villain’s body stuffed with constantly-hatching insect eggs. Arcane assumes he’s only been in Hell for a couple of hours and screams in agony when he discovers that he’s actually been suffering the torment for several days. One scene like this would be enough to make any comic memorable. Swamp Thing: Love and Death has enough of them to fuel a lifetime of night terrors.

This collection is a must-have. I don’t just mean Swamp Thing Vol. 2 is a must-have; I mean every volume in this collection is a must-have. DC may only be up to Volume 2, but their plan is to collect all of the Moore Swamp Thing work in the hardcover format. If your only exposure to Alan Moore is Watchmen, pick this up. If you truly love horror as an artistic craft — the art of creating something with the intent to engage you emotionally enough to disturb — pick this up. If you can read, pick this up.

[Because I wish even the most skeptical of skeptics would experience this on the big screen, I'm plugging my SFS review of Avatar here.  And also because this is my site and I do what I wants.]

The buzz and buzzkill leading up to Avatar, it turns out, found inadequate purchase now that the world has finally glimpsed the fabled film. The echo chamber of hype that believed it would drastically alter the landscape of filmmaking forever, the virulent, vitriolic cries of Dances with Smurfs, the total indifference…all misplaced.

You are not prepared for Avatar. Roll your eyes at that; laugh it off, you’ve heard that pitch before. It’s not hyperbole, though, it’s bald truth. Whether it’s your most anticipated movie of the year or your least, it is not precisely what you think it is. How could it be? Avatar is a motion picture precedent, after all. It’s fair to say that the core conflict is less than revolutionary and that parts of the narrative are broad, but those ills are scarcely symptomatic of James Cameron’s ultimate goal. It’s not about challenging the formula of Group X oppresses Group Y, who then fight back. Nor is it about only showcasing the bleeding edge technology that Cameron and company have invented and licensed over the last decade. Avatar is about transporting a viewer to the awe-inspiring alien world of Pandora and integrating them into its fantastic way of life for 150 minutes. That’s the bullseye Cameron is aiming for, and that is the bullseye he obliterates.

Read the rest of my Avatar review at SciFi Squad!

I’m no longer using the T Van persona to blog. I still use the name when I call into podcasts but it’s just easier that way.

For the month of October, I’m currently blogging about horror films over at my personal blog.

Check out the 31 Days of Terror at:  http://markwilson.wordpress.com

In addition to my new blog, I can be found at:

Twitter – @markwilson12

FriendFeed – markwilson

Tumblr – markwilson12

It’s time to announce my retirement from the horror blogging game. I’ve had a lot of fun and I really love the genre but I just don’t have the energy to maintain a horror blog.

I would like to thank everyone who has supported this blog and left comments. I would also like to thank John Cozzoli for allowing me to join the League of Tana Tea Drinkers. You should be following the League of Tana Tea Drinkers. I’m amazed at the depth of knowledge displayed by my fellow members of the League.

I’ll probably pop up on the Pop Syndicate forums from time to time. I hope to see you there.

I won’t say this is a permanent goodbye because I’ve gone on hiatus in the past. Who knows what the future holds?

For the time being, I’ll be taking off my gas mask one last time.

I had a chance to finally sit down and watch El Orfanato (The Orphanage) last night. Colour me unimpressed. I didn’t know what to expect. I have been watching a number of Spanish language films lately and I just found The Orphanage to be a bit of a letdown. This is not really a very frightening film. There is one good jump scare in the movie but it’s rather tame by today’s standards.

This film is a slow burn. If you have attention deficit disorder, you’ll have a difficult time with it. I have to admit that I’m not a fan of ghost stories and I found El Orfanato to be just too slow for my liking.

IMDB’s plot summary is relatively concise:

The former orphan Laura raises her adopted son Simón with her husband Carlos in an old house and former orphanage where she was raised. Simón is HIV positive and tells Laura that he has five invisible friends, and she believes they are fruit of his imagination. Laura decides to reopen an orphanage for handicapped children in the location and during the opening party, Simón calls her to show the little cabin of his friend Tomás. The busy Laura does not gives much attention to her son; then she sees a mysterious masked boy and Simón vanishes. Laura feels the presence of other persons in the house and months later, the desperate Laura invites a team of parapsychologists to try to unravel the mystery.

Let me just say that I hated the kid who played Simón. I really had no emotional connection to him. He just seemed like a whiny little brat. Am I cold hearted bastard who hates children with HIV? No. I just hate bratty little punks. What can I say? I’m a dick.

I did like the look of the movie but that’s really not a recommendation. I thought it was well shot and the mask that Tomás wore was pretty creepy looking but that really doesn’t amount to a hill of beans. The set design of the picture was lavish but the story lacked characters that I could relate to or situations that I was invested in.

The good fellers over at Bloody Good Horror recently reviewed The Orphanage for an episode of their most excellent podcast. I would recommend listening to the gents talk about this film. Check out Episode 26 of The Bloody Good Horror Podcast for more information about The Orphanage. Or read John Shelton’s review of The Orphanage over at Bloody Good Horror. Boy, that’s some in-depth coverage for one movie.

This is a bit off topic but if I were to recommend a film that I’ve seen recently, I’d suggest that you watch another Guillermo Del Toro production (did I mention Guillermo Del Toro produced The Orphanage – I guess I just did). Check out Crónicas starring John Leguizamo. It’s not really a horror film but it is about a serial killer who kills children. It is creepy as hell. I love Leguizamo and you’ll be surprised to see him in his first Spanish language film.

Watch the trailer for Crónicas [in English but this is a predominantly Spanish film so if you have an aversion to subtitles, you're an idiot]:

A couple’s evening is interrupted when a strange visitor shows up at their doorstep.

This is a pretty decent short film and you should check it out.