Hello to all those faithfully reading and hopefully enjoying this effort to make even the worst horror movie more watcha... aw, screw that - I'm not that good. If a movie makes you cringe because yet another batch of unlikable teens that are pushing 30 are inching toward their deaths, having a party no one does anywhere ever, a paranormal movie is boring you to tears with unending pans of empty rooms, or thanks to CGI technology when people finally bite it, their blood squirts everywhere except on the victim, the ground, the people next to them... you're in good company and this is the right place for you.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

FLOTSAM AND JETSAM PART THREE




The Midnight Disease (2010)

What's worse than being a failed writer? Being a failed writer that actually managed to put out one good book but cannot think of another. It's called 'The Midnight Disease' or, simply, writer's block. Simple. Like this movie should have been. It was a maybe 15 minute story told in 95. And we suffer along for it. Because after the basic 'oh, that's what happens' we just get a repeat of the same ad nauseum until the movie ends. Bleah.


For some reason, so-called writer Jack types his books out on one of those clackety clack typewriters. Geez, go at least for a Commodore 64 or something, stupid. Maybe he just wants to irritate all his neighbors in the thin-walled apartment building he lives in. But I guess it doesn't matter 'cause he can't think of a single thing to put on paper anyway.


I know the feeling - I am a writer. Writer's are like saying you're human - even if you don't act particularly human you still are human. Same with writing. I can't seem to write a damn thing these days but I'm still 'a writer'. But once again I digress. One day, Jack finds a bottle on his porch. If it had been a bottle of Jack, maybe his book would just flow through... but no. This is a bottle of blood. He has no idea who left it or why. But when he puts it in his bedroom, a very pale woman appears, drinks the blood and then types all bloody night (pun intended). There's a pile of what is beginning to be a very good novel sitting on his desk. Never mind that he didn't write it, it came off HIS typewriter, right? So he goes out and gets some animal blood. Nope. Doesn't do the trick.

So we get what reminded me of Little Shop Of Horrors - Jack cuts himself to at least have some in the bottle when the woman comes. Trouble is, he can't bleed enough or fast enough to keep her working. So....


Yeah, the rest of the movie is just that. He goes out, finds victims, she eats them (I presume - even though she only needed blood he's not dumping any bodies so they're going somewhere) and then types her fingers off. And the stuff is good - really good. But this can't go on forever - one hooker he picks up turns out to be very young so he gives her money and tells her to leave, and the woman he was beginning to really like...


In the end, Jack's 'muse', for that's what the movie is calling her (D to the UH) ends up getting him killed. That's okay - when he dies a strange man in an overcoat comes in and grabs the bottle, squeezes some blood from Jack's mouth (you know that no matter how you die you always bleed from the mouth in horror movies) and moves on to the next sucker. Wish they would have done that 95 minutes ago.