From Zombos Closet

December 30, 2009

Most Regrettable Horror Movies Of 2009

/ Reflections / 7 Comments

Warningsign While others pound their chests proclaiming the top ten best horror movies of 2009, I thought I would take a different approach. Frankly, top ten lists are a dime a dozen these days. And why only ten? Who do we blame for limiting the best to only ten a year? I love reading these lists, though, but only when my favorites make the list (which I suspect is a habit we all share).

But what about all those regrettable horror movies you and I wasted time and money seeing in 2009? Now we’re talking. Not the worst movies or completely bad movies necessarily, but movies that are most regrettable because they zigged when they should have zagged, leaving me, and possibly you, with a sour taste in our mouths in spite of all the popcorn and soda eaten to make up for the disappointment. In a word, those movies that looked so promising but let us down.

I should say ‘let me down,’ since this is my most regrettable list for 2009. Maybe it will be yours, too.

 

1. The Collector

It came and went without collecting much of an audience. Torture porn horror hit its zenith in this slick nihilistic, but derivative, terrifying vision. 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 go the usual horror franchise-building byway at the end with a negative payoff.

2. Friday the 13th 

Jared Padalecki (Supernatural) is the only reason I saw this movie. I like him. I like him in this movie. I hate everything else. Remakes can be a dice game to begin with, but trying to remake and re-imagine an icon of horror means you gamble on what stays and what changes. In this case, the gamble didn’t pay off. What changed but shouldn’t have is the mystery and uncertainty about Jason. What should have changed but didn’t are the pick-a-number victims wearing “kill me, I’m stupid” signs on their butts.

3. The Haunting in Connecticut

A haunting without ghosts? How novel. While director Peter Cornwell and writers did manage to startle me twice, this movie has more in common with Tobe Hooper’s energetic spookfest Poltergeist than the lingering, atmospheric scares in Lewis Allen’s The Uninvited or Robert Wise’s The Haunting–but not enough in common to make it as good. A missed opportunity to create real fright instead of resorting to the usual special-effects and grisly spookshow makeup theatrics; less experienced horrorheads will enjoy it. Those with more experience, like me, will nitpick. Such is life.

4. The Last House On the Left

At least Ingmar Bergman put God squarely in the middle of his story, forcing guilt and shame on the parents who mete out vengeance to their daughter’s killers. You will not find emphasis on a divine presence in this latest incarnation of a story that really did not need to be retold. No guilt or shame, either. There is lots of ungodly loud, screeching music though, like bones dragged across a chalkboard. Unless you are entertained by the  creative ways directors and writers emphasize these thematic elements, there is not much here for you. But if you are, you will especially enjoy the totally gratuitous ending involving a microwave and a deliberately paralyzed sadist. If you’ve seen Gremlins, you know what to expect.

5. Trick ‘r Treat

I regret this movie didn’t make it into the theaters. It should have.

Comic Book Review: The Ghoul 1

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The ghoul 1 Zombos Says: Good (But more ‘comic book’ needed)

I’d worked with the Bureau, hell, since its creation in 1908. They found me hiding in the sewers of old underground New York and instead of hunting me or trying to make a show of me like so many others had before, they took me in and offered me a job. (Steve Niles, My Ghoul)

With only 16 pages in this $3.99 comic book devoted to The Ghoul’s illustrated adventure, a 5 page continuing text story, My Ghoul–peppered with three small graphics–and 10 pages devoted to IDW ads and news, it took a lot of effort for me to read this one even if Steve Niles and Bernie Wrightson are the perpetrators, and the gimmick is one very big special agent for the supernatural arm of the FBI.

You know the drill: mysterious big guy with attitude (The Goon, Hellboy, insert your favorite here), who usually works for a ‘secret’ organization and packs muscle–some wit, but better at relying on the muscle–and enjoys kicking monster and freakazoid butts too big for regular folk to handle. Leaves all the thinking to the small guys, who, in this case, would be rolled into one Lieutenant Detective Klimpt. Klimpt does the cerebral work while the Ghoul does the muscle work. Both wear trenchcoats. The Ghoul’s is tailor-made and would probably make a good emergency tent if the situation warranted it.

Okay, so I’m spoiled. I expect a big comic book when I buy one, and I expect big names to deliver big things when charged a big price for the issue. Niles and Wrightson are big names. Only Wrightson fully delivers the goods; he gives the irritating, ill-mannered Ghoul more than just enormous size and a trenchcoat. I won’t say heart (or even gruff charm) because Niles hasn’t written that in yet, but Wrightson’s characters and settings evoke more noir than Niles can muster in his story and dialog. Maybe because Niles is on auto-pilot with this first issue. Maybe he’ll get the gas pumping in issue two.

Okay, I admit this is a pet peeve of mine; comic book format implies an illustrated story between the covers, not ads or text-stories that fill up half the pages. Niles’ My Ghoul story is important to read as it provides much background to the Ghoul’s character; but it should have been illustrated instead: comic book, right? I would rather see and read this background story in comic book format.

As for the current story, Klimpt calls in the extra muscle for a hunch he has on a case–more of a theory as he calls it. While the Ghoul searches for some munchies and mugs a sour demeanor throughout their first meeting, Klimpt fills him in on his theory. It involves the Atwoods and their three generations of “uncanny actresses.” Only the three generations may not have involved so many dames and there may be more than just three generations. That easily tops the ‘uncanny’ part. Tom Smith provides lots of evocative colors, creating ample shadows and light sources for Wrightson’s characters to breath in.

Before Klimpt makes a move to investigate further, the Ghoul needs to take care of business. Seems it’s a special night; the type of night devils and beasties roam the earth unfettered from their tour duty in Hell. The Ghoul needs to do some tour duty of his own. The last panel shows him holding a mother, son, and daughter of a gun even Hellboy would drool over.

Maybe I’ll stick around for issue two. I’m a pushover for big guns, sultry dames, and demonic monsters mixing it up.