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.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

MISS MURDER ARE YOU SICK OR JUST INSANE?










What's The Matter With You?

Why do I have such a fascination with the macabre and think horror is actually some of the funniest stuff I've ever seen? Am I currently under the care of a physician? What is wrong with me?

When I was little, I was taught that entertainment should be clean, wholesome. Then I was dragged off to movies like Play Misty For Me (I got yelled at for not hiding my eyes during the ax scene), Wait Until Dark (for years I thought that if you left the refrigerator door open it would kill you) and Tommy (yeah, I know it's a rock opera, not a horror movie, but that stuff can be pretty damn scary to a little kid). 

I also had a childhood from hell. No need for particulars, lets just say that no movie made could possibly be scarier than what I had to deal with every day of my life while I was growing up.

The only exception was my very first viewing of Night Of The Living Dead. I was MADE to stay up until two in the morning to see it (the only time TV would show it) and yes, it scared the pants off of me. I couldn't watch the whole thing so I ran off to bed to the snickers and name calling of my, um, family.

I remember one event that changed my perspective forever. I was watching the news for some reason and the news announcer made the statement that children should leave the room. Of course to kids this is secret code for 'something really good is going to come on'. I witnessed the death of Bill Stewart.


On June 20, 1979, thirty three years ago today, Stewart was traveling in a van in the outskirts of the capital city of Managua with his camera and sound crew when they were stopped at a checkpoint run by the Nicaraguan Guardia, the main force of President Anastasio Somoza Debayle. The van was marked as a press vehicle as a precaution, which had become standard practice as the insurgency and revolution increased in intensity.

The young lieutenant in charge of the checkpoint saw Stewart peer out of the passenger window and ordered him out of the vehicle. Stewart was accompanied by Juan Espinosa, his interpreter. Stewart held a white flag and had official press credentials from the Nicaraguan government. While Stewart was escorted a few meters away from the van cameraman Jack Clark, who had wandered some distance from the van in the other direction while waiting for Stewart to be cleared at the checkpoint, spontaneously began filming. 

Clark continued to film, not expecting anything out of the ordinary, as Stewart was forced first to kneel and then to lie face down on the ground. The lieutenant then put his rifle to the back of Stewart's head and fired, killing the reporter instantly. Espinosa was killed moments later. Clark's shocked and terrified reaction can be seen (in the momentary jerking away of the camera from the scene) and heard on the film of the shooting.

I ran out of the house crying, telling my family what I had seen. I was basically ignored as usual. They were unaffected and blase' as if this horrible death was just... nothing.

I couldn't sleep without that murder in my head for months. After that I knew that the real world was the horror, and movies merely a distraction. I was never scared by a single movie from that moment on. In fact, as I've mentioned, I find them quite funny. The Exorcist? Hilarious! Tommy? Not a horror show, a drug trip! Nightmare On Elm Street? Oh please - lame! I even watched Night Of The Living Dead repeatedly, appreciating even at my young age all the interesting aspects George Romero had infused into the movie.

So, to keep a long story from becoming longer, Mr. Stewart taught me the harsh lesson of life. Life is pain. Life is horror. Life can pretty much suck. Films and television shows are trying to keep us from dwelling on that.

So if I make a list of the cast of a movie and predict who dies in what order (if their names are like Christian or Ashley they usually go to the top of the list), laugh out loud at continuity errors even as people are dying onscreen, and otherwise enjoy myself at what others might shrink at or not dare to watch alone, it's because IT'S NOT REAL LIFE. It may not be real entertainment, but I'll choose it over the news any day of the week.



                              

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