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Showing posts with the label prom night

the error of their ways

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Opening credits that scream 3D and music that seems more suited to the 70s than 1982—that’s the beginning of Friday the 13th Part III . And, this couple at the store remind me—not in their behavior but in there sort of unnecessaryness—of the old couple at the beginning of Halloween II . I guess these movies borrow from each other, back-and-forth. Lame 3D bits make this movie quite silly; guy has a wood pole, so what does he have to do for a moment? Point it at the camera. There’s a snake so of course it has to come at the camera. I kinda wanted Harold to get killed there after checking behind like 9 curtains and doors before finally, there was Jason with a cleaver. 3D warning: rat has to crawl toward the camera. 3D warning: baseball bat that has absolutely nothing to do with anything also has to be sticking out toward the camera. This is the kind of gimmicky crap that makes 3D look pointless. 3D warning: offer the audience a joint. I really don’t like the makers of this film ri...

the killer's gonna get you

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And then it gets weird... …because I think I’ve only ever actually seen Prom Night once. There’s no comfort in the specifics here. Still, there is... something nice in the general nature of the film. A regular commenter here, Maolsheachlann said something interesting in response to yesterday ‘s entry; he said horror films made him feel “cozy.” Like me, he has childhood associations with horror films. But, he made a observation similar to some I’ve made... worded nicely: But, sometimes I think it is a strange relief, and release, that you are mentally inhabiting a world where the worst has happened—or if not the worst, necessarily, than a world where it’s OK to be paranoid and fatalistic and you don’t have to rein in your darkest fantasies any more. This won’t connect at first, but bear with me. The topic I had hoped to talk about today was the verisimilitude of slasher films having very specific settings. They tell us the date, the town name. There isn’t much left vague. Psycho ...