Zombos' Closet of Horror

Lucas Manson A Novel by Thomas A. Hauck

ZC Rating 1 of 7: Poor

Roxy joined the conversation. "We need to work this out," she said firmly. "We've got to find a way to feed ourselves on extended tours without leaving a trail of carcasses behind us. I heard they found the ones in Detroit and Miami. Sooner or later some junior detective is going to stick some pins in a map and make the connection. Dumping these things in a harbor or a vacant lot is not going to work. Even if they happen to find one, we've got to make sure that there is nothing linking the carcasses to us."

Reading Thomas Hauck's novel Lucas Manson is like sitting in one of those taxing corporate meetings that should have died at the sixty-minute mark but still lingers on well past it; and you need to take a bio-break badly; and there's no more coffee; and somebody needs to say something that brings closure and quickly. I'm exaggerating somewhat, but I've read very few novels that force me to skim pages because of their lengthy 'corporate meeting' styled discussions blowing off the action with 'tell me' instead of more preferable 'show me' exposition; leaving me with feeling the payoff--the all important underpinning that justifies a story's events and characters--doesn't add up. There is not enough suspense written in to make it a thriller; not enough horror described to make it frightening; and worse, not much excitement to be garnered from the characters and their actions. Lucas Manson's structure is more draft-stage than print-ready. 

Sorority Row Press Book: Meet the Sisters of Theta Pi

"When five sorority sisters of Theta Pi cause the death of one of their own during a foolish prank gone wrong, they conspire to discard the evidence and never speak of the nightmare again. But when a mysterious killer targets the group a year later with a series of bizarre attacks, the women find themselves fighting for their own lives amidst the revelry of an out of control graduation party.

"Based on the original screenplay, Seven Sisters, this modern tale of revenge served icily cold echoes the original’s mix of horror and humor while creating a fresh take on terror uniquely its own."

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Movie Review: Sorority Row (2009) Party Hardy Till You Die

Rating 4 of 7: Very Good

What a difference a decade or two makes. In this remake and retinkering of The House on Sorority Row (1983), the overheated and nubile Theta Pi girls are non-stop partying like it's 2009; and the usually horribly-deformed-and-mentally-somewhere-beyond-Saturn stalking killer is easily a People or US magazine cover candidate. Stewart Hendler's Sorority Row is overly-sexed, overly slick and glossy, and murderously fun.

All the elements for successful slashing are here: a prank gone horribly wrong; a deep dark secret to be kept; a mysterious killer who, months later, knows the deep dark secret that apparently has not been kept very secretive. And then people start dying in creative, bloody ways with a signature weapon--in this case a pimped out lug wrench. What is different is Hendler's playfulness with an audience's expectations for the murderous mayhem, and the sincere acting from a cast that is not just eye-candy, which balances this cat and mouse game between tongue in cheek and serious terror. Carrie Fisher as the shotgun toting house mother, Mrs. Crenshaw, puts up a classy mean fight, bringing legitimacy and sophistication to the action.

The Collector (2009) A Man, A Little Girl, And a Psycho Killer With a Trunk

At the end of The Collector I felt cheated. I cannot tell you why as that would give the ending away. But here is a clue; in Sabotage, Alfred Hitchcock regretted blowing up the bus. While he wanted the audience to feel uncomfortable from the buildup of tension between the boy, the bus, and the bomb ticking away, he felt he cheated the audience by blowing up the bus, killing the boy and everyone on it. In a word, his payoff for putting the audience through the wringer was negative, not positive. Hitchcock realized he let his audience down: no one wanted to see the bomb go off after all that suspense.

In combining Cube-like lethal traps with a hint of Saw-styled ingenuity and malice, and yet another relentless masked-slasher victimizing a family in unsavory, bloodily grisly ways, Marcus Dunstan and Patrick Melton (Feast) do their darnedest to pulverize the audience with fears of helplessness, torture, and death. They almost succeed, but choose to blow up the bus by going the usual horror franchise-building byway at the end with a negative payoff. In their case, however, the bomb takes the form of a trunk for the one he always takes.

My Bloody Valentine 3D It Takes Heart

Cinema in three dimensions does for the slasher movie what black and white does for film noir; it provides the best atmosphere and in your face vantage point to see all the gore,  join  in the  screaming mayhem, and easily count the number of mangled bodies piling up.

Three 3D-enhanced images stay with me after watching My Bloody Valentine 3D: the sickening way one victim's shovel-sliced head, bisected at the mouth, slowly slides down the sharp blade toward the audience;  the stark beam of the headlight darting about in the gloom of the movie theater as the gas masked, pickaxe-wielding, miner stalks his next victim; and the vivid Utz Potato Chip bags displayed prominently on an endcap behind Sarah and Megan as they run their hearts out--to keep them beating in their chests--down a grocery aisle. I could, of course, mention other images that come to mind, like gaping chest cavities, a blood-dripping, lifeless hand so close you can almost touch it, and one eye-popping surprise--courtesy of, once again, that über-utilitarian, death-dealing pickaxe, but it is a slasher film after all. So much carnage from such a simple tool is quite surprising; of course, clothes dryers can also be useful as vividly shown in this movie.

The Strangers (2008)

Home's Where the Heart-pounding Terror Is
Stalking Horror

The message director Bryan Bertino seems to be implying in The Strangers is not to misuse technology; doing so can get you killed. Two misused cell phones, one misused house phone, and a misused car and ham radio later, he clearly illustrates why in this latest iteration of the home-invading stalker movie. With similarities to 2006's European Them, Bertino's masked assailants lay siege to the desolate home and psyches of an already distraught couple, entering the premises at will and often standing quietly in the background watching their freaked-out victims, Kristen (Liv Tyler) and James (Scott Speedman).

After his marriage proposal doesn't go the way he anticipated it would, James and Kristen head to his family's vacation house at four in the morning. With red rose petals strewn across the bathtub and bed, and a bottle of champaign less chilled than the soured marriage proposal, both try to reconcile the awkwardness by getting frisky instead. Of course, as you and I know, any hint of sex in a horror film spells trouble with a capital T. Right on que, a nerve-rattling pounding on the front door ends their reconciliation. Outside, a Squeaky Fromme-voiced girl, her face hidden in the darkness created by an unscrewed porch light, is looking for someone. Maybe it's me, but how can James not get a clue even when he screws the porch light back in after the girl goes away? Clueless victims in horror films make matters much worse, as you and I also know.