Thursday, January 30, 2014

quick thing

Hi.  I'm in the middle of some business, so pardon my brevity.

If you don't think that this season of American Horror Story was the best,  YOU ARE WRONG.

That is all.  Go about your business.

Any last words?

love and light,

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Friday, January 17, 2014

fried green lesbians

1991 was the year that the Gloucester Cinema opened up and I could walk through the woods and a couple of bogs to a movie theatre all by myself without needing a ride.  That was the summer of Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.  I was LIVING.  By September, the theatre staff knew me by name.  I saw EVERYTHING - People Under the Stairs, Sleeping with the EnemySilence of the Lambs, Terminator 2!  A couple movies stand out in particular.

Child's Play 3

This is not a good movie, but it's the first horror movie I ever went to by myself.

Cape Fear

Scorsese.  DeNiro.  Split dipoters.  This was the moment when Jessica Lange became the embittered, callous, chain-smoking Jessica Lange parody we know and love (and fear) today.  If I had a dollar for every time I walked down the hallway to middle school chorus, imagining that I was Juliette Lewis walking into the auditorium, intent on finding an older man determined to put his finger in my mouth, I could buy us about seven grilled stuft nachos.

Freddy's Dead

THIS.  Another movie I insisted on seeing alone as to not mar the experience.  I remember how everyone in the audience wore the 3D glasses for the first ten minutes before we realized that it wasn't in 3D until the last reel.

Tomorrow I'll be sure to tell you about how I wrote a four page fan letters to Norm from The Real World and how I got momma's credit cards shut down after one too many calls to Marina Sirtis on QVC.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

has anyone seen my flux capacitor?

Ryan over at Shock Til You Drop did a nifty list of horror movies from the 90s and it sent me into a deep reverie in the manner of a Tennessee Williams heroine.

The world around me faded and was replaced by crystalline memories of walking to parochial school, still thinking about last night's episode of Parker Lewis Can't Lose.   On special days, I'd get a tuna sandwich from The Yellow Sub, the good kind with the chunks of dill pickles on the top, and try to avoid getting beat up and/or called faggot until it was time to go home and I could watch my stories.

Reading Fangoria magazines in the local bookstore, this era was the apex of my horror fandom.  It was a time when everything was possible and all my dreams were real.  Ironically, much like today, the 90s was a period of horror backlash. Coming off the glut of 80s slashers, audiences would become far more interested in Sharon Stone's sexcapades than a return to Camp Crystal Lake.  So, while everyone is away at Sundance, let's take a moment to throw is back.

The Exorcist III. 

1990 came hard.  Don't believe me?  Watch this movie.  The Exorcist III petrified me, quite literally. If it came on television, I'd be rendered motionless, for fear that movement would draw the spirits and some monstrous, possessed elderly woman wielding gardening equipment would spring out of the hall closet, covered in mom's sheets from last year.  One night The Exorcist III came on and I had to call Vanessa to come over and turn it off for me while I covered my head with the pillow.  It holds up.

Gremlins 2: the new batch

Phoebe Cates got a bob for the Gremlins sequel!  To 12 year old Jeffrey, this was the epitome of chic.  I also have a soft-spot for horror movies set in high-rises.   They had Gremlins 2 merchandise in the supermarket, coloring books and those magic erase boards with the plastic stylus - I was deep in it.  High-concept, phantasmagoric, this movie was clearly left alone by the studio and, as a result, Marla Bloodstone will live forever in homosexual lexicon.


Anyone who's met me knows that all I ever want to talk about is the fact that, a few years back, Warner Bros hired Cary Fukanaga to remake It as a big-budget, two-picture, R-rated tentpole.  This happened!  It will surely never see the light of day, but it happened on paper.  This is the world I want to live in.  The 1990 It mini-series predates The Walking Dead and all the glorious horror entertainments on television that we now take for granted.  Tim Curry is spectacular and there are a few genuinely subversive moments despite the fact that the project had to be approved by many network censors.  Between It and Twin Peaks, 1990 was a banner year for horror on TV.  If you haven't read the book It is based on, you must.  It is far and away my favorite Stephen King book. Gang bangs, monsters, homeless queer mashers, children holding one another and weeping - what's not to love?

Honorable mention goes to the Tom Savini directed Night of the Living Dead remake, not because it's particularly remarkable (though Molly Shannon is fantastic in it), but because they played a teaser trailer for T2 beforehand and it's all that mattered at recess that fall.

I'll be back tomorrow to talk about 1991 - the year momma pulled me out of Catholic school because I was being bullied and had managed to gain 20 pounds from all the tuna sandwiches.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

looking for the magic

Good morning, dolls
I don't know about you, but those golden globes really left me with a nasty aftertaste. Maybe it was Jordan Catalano not referencing the fact that one in thirteen trans girls are murdered or maybe it was Michael (so brave) Douglas not mentioning Liberace, but I've just about had it.

THEREFORE - let us polish up our best marching band shoes and throw seven bottles of champagne in the fridge.  It's once again time for the FaggotyAss Awards!!!

Presenting the nominees this year: Elijah Wood and Macaulay Culkin!  Reunited and it feels so good!!

Best TV.  
Long Live the New Flesh!

The Walking Dead.  
I got sick for a minute in November and went HAM on this show.  If you haven't already, I suggest you do the same.

Bates Motel.
Twin Peaks 2.0.  Blessed be.

America Horror Story: No Straights Allowed.
Patti Lupone.  Bathtub enemas.  Queen Angela Bassett.  Ruth Fisher.  About two episodes in, Kathy Bates made chicken for Gabby Sidibe.

The Fall.
Gillian Anderson pretends to be British to track down a hot-as-fuck serial killer.

Best Picture.
All the Boys Love Mandy Lane.
Better late than never.

Confession: Every single time I've tried to watch this movie, I fall dead asleep.  That does not make me love it any less - it was written by Wentworth Miller.

Curse of Chucky.
Chucky went to all the trouble to get some fillers for his big comeback.  Very Kate Beckinsale.  The least you can do is watch it.

World War Z.

Best Actress.
Nicole Kidman. 
Like I'm even going to pretend there are other nominees.

Guys I'd Go Gay For.
Lou Taylor Pucci.  
Evil Dead.

Milo Ventimiglia.  
Kiss of the Damned.

Joe Pitt.  
The Conjuring.

Now hurry up and vote down below.  My favorite comment-er will get a FaggotyAssGiftBasket full of fabulous horror movie swag that I have no use for.