Someone's in the house. He's watching. He's creeping round, only you can't see him. He's watching you from the walls. He's right behind you now. Looking over your shoulder. He wants the remote control. He's a bad boy. He wants to watch bad movies. Bad bad Ronald...
To celebrate the DVD/Blu-ray release of The Crazies, Anchor Bay has given me some cool swag to pass along to you. Be the first one on your block to own your own The Crazies Official Water Bottle!
Just show me you're nuts and I'll send out the prize to the winning Crazy! Tell me something crazy, show me your crazies in a pic, ANYTHING! Just FaceBook me at Bad Ronald or email me at popcereal@gmail.com.
Oh! And to make it sweeter, they gave me a DVD to throw in with it -- so make 'em good!!
And it doesn’t get any easier when tragedy comes to haunt your young days. Nothing makes you feel more out of the norm than having troubles that no one else has. This is the life of Steph, a fourteen year old girl who’s lived nearly half her life with the memory of her father’s tragic death. Her three BFFs fill their newly teen days with the usual girlie girl stuff, boys, peer politics, fashion… But, as it goes, none of them seem overly concerned or even aware of their friend’s pain.
Steph’s troubles bubble to the surface on the eve of the traditional canoe trip that marks the end of summer camp. She has a growing fear of water, the result of watching her father die in a terrible boating accident, and instead of talking it out, she decided to bail the canoe trip. Luckily, or not, her older brother Jonah is there to watch over her, and volunteers to chaperone the girls on their little voyage.
Naturally, the budding curiosity of the friends is piqued by the presence of the older brother. He’s a pretty cool guy to them. He doesn’t condescend to the young teens, but playfully treats them as peers, passing a cigarette around, but then teasingly reminding them of how much they are still little girls. Little or not, Morgan (Morgan McCunn), the boy magnet of the group, harbors more than a puppy love crush. With her sleepy eyed gaze, she soon hooks up with the older Jonah, slipping away to share a secret cuddle. And it’s when they attempt to consummate their bond with a late night kiss that Steph learns the truth of her friend and her brother’s betrayal.
And then… It happens again. In the aftermath of the argument between the girls and Morgan, tragedy cuts through Steph’s life, once again.
There are some hard knock life stuff to Crooked Lake, and the girls all step up to deliver some heavy performances. Candice Mausner flaunts a sharp wit as the tomboyish Candice (the girls and their characters share names), and Alysha Aubin puts on her best future Mean Girl attitude. Morgan McCunn delivers as the naive coquette, who is rushing to grow up while still grasping onto to her childhood. But it’s Stephannie Richardson who holds down the key performance as the girl who tries to smile through her pain. In the quiet moments she demurs with her head cocked downward, but when she is provoked, she snaps and explodes, releasing the bottled rage.
Crooked Lake draws some obvious comparisons to an earlier film Mean Creek, in which a group of young kids head out on a canoe trip that turns tragic. The similarities, however, end there. Mean Creek is arguably a more edgy film. It tells the story of children dealing issues way beyond their young years, but with the reflexive eye of an adult. Crooked Lake, on the other hand, emulates the popular YA novels, relating the tragic coming of age story to the peer group of the film’s characters.
And this is where I think the film gets tripped up. IMDB tags Surviving Crooked Lake with a PG-13 rating, but the version I saw appeared to be fit for an R, with a few awkwardly forced F-bombs uttered by the girls. This may have been a mistake. With such a strong grrl power message about survival, family and friendship, the filmmakers may have missed out on a very lucrative market – teen girls – by trying to get too edgy for its own good.
There’s also a minimal resemblance to another similarly themed film – Picnic at Hanging Rock, with its long, luxurious looks at sun drenched landscapes and lingering gazes of the young girls at play. Again, all similarities end there. There's a line that Hanging Rock director Peter Weir toes skillfully, between the sensuality of the diffused, sun-drenched landscapes and the sexual hysteria of the young girls in the story. The Crooked Lake filmmakers also try to draw out that same sensuality, but there are times when the lens of the camera lingers a bit too long, nearly stepping over from art to exploitation. The filmmakers may have been aiming for the Art House crowd with this style -- those who would likely have a film like Hanging Rock, or Mean Creek in their queues -- but again, they should've been thinking more about the teen girl audience.
All comparisons aside, Surviving Crooked Lake is a startling coming of age story that delivers some genuine moments of tension and revelations.
Once upon a time in the 18th century a mythical hairy beast is said to have roamed the dark woods of an aristocratic estate nestled in the French countryside. One day, the tale goes, this legendary giant beast (and that’s meant in a wink-wink kinda way), with an insatiable lust, sets upon the lady of the house, the beautiful young Romilda (Sirpa Lane in her notorious debut), corrupting her after she naively wanders into his dwellings.
Two centuries later, Lucy Broadhurst (Lisbeth Hummel), an American heiress betrothed to an impoverished male descendant of the once noble family, arrives at the old crumbling estate. After hearing the legend of the beast in the woods, Lucy is beset by terrifying, erotically charged dreams, which lead her to uncover the dark secret of the fabled beast.
The Beast is a notorious cult movie that is so wickedly vulgar, so wildly perverse, that you almost seem embarrassed for having seen it… almost.
Walerian Borowczyk’s nefarious retelling of the oft told tale of Beauty and the Beast had been available only via heavily censored released versions or edited together pirated tapes, since it was notoriously banned for a quarter century. This banishment probably was due to the films morals-shattering glimpses of rape, boy-happy priests, copious faux ejaculate shots, masturbation with a rose, a wig, feet, and even a bed post, horse sex, bi-racial sex, death by sex, and most heinous of all - bestiality! (Well… implied bestiality, actually, which is made very apparent once you see that the “beast” is man in a Bigfoot/wolf outfit). But, by today’s standards, The Beast’s subject matter may seem fairly tame in comparison (just check out the filthy adventures of Harold & Kumar, and the ejaculate and piss gags in American Pie), though still some of the content in this thirty-year-old film could cause you wince, or at least draw out a “what the…” comment from the most jaded film viewer. Borowczyk’s The Beast is all together vulgar, audacious, witty, provocative and even amusing. At times it’s an absurd sex farce, attuned to one of Benny Hill’s naughtier segments, while other times it’s a gothic horror tale pitting a nubile young woman against an unseen dark force, and even an allegorical fairy tale with ample symbolic imagery for those viewers who are hip to art references (Henry Fuseli’s Nightmare), literary cues (Voltaire), Freud’s dream analysis, and even Bigfoot sex flicks. To be more succinct, you’ve gotta see it to believe it.
For Borowczyk enthusiasts who’ve only ever seen the censored versions of this erotic masterpiece, or simply for the curious cult movie fans, Cult Epics has released it’s definitive presentation of The Beast on 3 discs, including a brand new Widescreen (16x9) transfer with optional French and English dialogue, two hours of Behind The Scenes footage and interviews, stills and lobbycard galleries, and the rare rediscovered “Complete Version” with close to an extended 30 minutes of sumptuous storylines.
I haven't had this sensation very much, but once in a great while I watch a movie and find that when it's all over, I don't remember too much about it. Like I watched the whole thing in a void. Like 90 minutes of my life just went by and I was day dreaming or something.
I experienced just that very phenomenon with this movie.
I really can't say I hated Finale, or even that I disliked it much. But I obviously didn't enjoy it too much, either, seeing as I slept-walked through it. I can't say that it was a terrible movie either. It had its moments... usually with a lot of overindulgent performances and and peremptory direction. The literature that came with this DVD expounded quite a bit with high praised similarities to the Italian Giallo films, and in particular Dario Argento. I'm still trying to figure that one out. Maybe I'd throw it a bone by comparing it to, maybe, an Amicus film... maybe. And I only say that because, out of the two comparisons, Amicus would be the one more likely to feature scantily clad Devil-worshiping chicks. End of major horror brand comparisons.
The one cognitive thought I recall having while watching Finale is that someone needs to give Suthi Picotte a role that she can really work with. As the sister of the young man at the center of the Satanic mystery, and the hypnotized sex slave of the lead in the play, and the frazzled daughter of an obsessed mother, Picotte was the one cast member who, as far as I could tell, pieced together and entire performance. She also reminded me a lot of actresses who turned up in 70s TV movies and TV shows -- and this a big plus in my book.
I'll give the filmmakers some credit for trying -- it sure looked like they were really working hard to put a decent picture together. Especially since they did it with a bare bones crew of about 8 or 9 people. I haven't seen a crew that small since first year at film school. Regardless, I would watch whatever they have coming next, because it's obvious that they have a vision. They just need to hunker down and focus.
Just show me you're nuts and I'll send out the prize to the winning Crazy! Tell me something crazy, show me your crazies in a pic, ANYTHING! Just FaceBook me at Bad Ronald or email me at popcereal@gmail.com.
The Beast’s subject matter may seem fairly tame in comparison (just check out the filthy adventures of Harold & Kumar, and the ejaculate and piss gags in American Pie), though still some of the content in this thirty-year-old film could cause you wince, or at least draw out a “what the…” comment from the most jaded film viewer. Borowczyk’s The Beast is all together vulgar, audacious, witty, provocative and even amusing. At times it’s an absurd sex farce, attuned to one of Benny Hill’s naughtier segments, while other times it’s a gothic horror tale pitting a nubile young woman against an unseen dark force, and even an allegorical fairy tale with ample symbolic imagery for those viewers who are hip to art references (Henry Fuseli’s Nightmare), literary cues (Voltaire), Freud’s dream analysis, and even Bigfoot sex flicks. To be more succinct, you’ve gotta see it to believe it.
The one cognitive thought I recall having while watching Finale is that someone needs to give Suthi Picotte a role that she can really work with. As the sister of the young man at the center of the Satanic mystery, and the hypnotized sex slave of the lead in the play, and the frazzled daughter of an obsessed mother, Picotte was the one cast member who, as far as I could tell, pieced together and entire performance. She also reminded me a lot of actresses who turned up in 70s TV movies and TV shows -- and this a big plus in my book.