Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

Did You Scream?

During our Halloween movie viewing, Steven and I enjoyed what is perhaps the quintessential William Castle movie, The Tingler (1959).

We had seen The Tingler once before, but that was in Georgia over ten years ago (yikes!). I did not remember much about it, except for the tingler itself, which was pretty funny. I mean scary. OK, both. I have to confess, while we were watching it this time, I was fixing supper, so I missed a few parts entirely. Hey, if you don’t think it’s important to feed your spouse and eat well yourself, well, that’s where we differ.

William Castle was a producer and director who was quite the showman. He didn’t just make a movie, he gave his audience an experience. I’ve talked about him before. He did things like put a nurse in the lobby in case any audience member keeled over from fright. During House on Haunted Hill, a skeleton on a wire flew out over the audience at a dramatic moment. His gimmick for The Tingler involved wiring certain seats in the audience to deliver a startling sensation to unsuspecting movie viewers.

I’ve been thinking somebody ought to release a boxed set of William Castle movies with props. They could include a nurse’s hat so one of your friends could pretend to be on hand in case of fright emergencies (I forget which movie that went with), a skeleton to wave over the audience during House on Haunted Hill, and some sort of joy buzzer for The Tingler. But I digress.

In The Tingler, Vincent Price is a mad scientist whose area of study is fear. Of course he does not consider himself mad (I know, they never do), and his aim is not world domination or even untold wealth, as it is for any number of other mad scientists. He believes he has the good of mankind at heart. His handsome young assistant and the assistant’s beautiful girlfriend agree.

The tingler, Price finds, is an actual thing that attaches itself to your spine when you are frightened. It can kill you, but you can stymie its fell intent by screaming loudly. There does come a point when the audience is encouraged to scream, but Steven and I did not. The windows were closed, but we might still have startled the neighbors. My scream is piercing.

I don’t want to say too much about the plot (the parts I remember around cooking dinner, anyways), because this is one of those movies best enjoyed by letting it unfold before you. I thought it was very fun. I recommend catching it if you get the chance, and if it frightens you… SCREAM!

A Sad Run

Yesterday I made up my mind I would run today after work then write my blog post about my run. I tried to ensure that I would do this by telling people at work that I intended to run. This technique is not as successful at this job as it has been at other jobs, because nobody there much cares whether I run or not and are unlikely to ask me about it the next day. Still, as they say, I’ll know.

I had a kind of a bad day at work. Work was fine, but I was in a sad mood I could not seem to shake. I chalked it up to Monday and hoped a run would straighten me out. I had just read another blog about a run which inspired me, http://theblogrunner.wordpress.com/. Sometimes running is just what you need.

Then I got home and checked messages. The pastor of my church is dying. He has been in bad health for some time now and in fact recently retired because of it. We had heard he was in the ICU. Today there was a message from another parishioner leaving her number if I wanted the update. He has not many days left to him. Prayers are asked for. I cried.

Full disclosure: I don’t go to church every week. I’m not very religious and sometimes I’m not even very nice. But Father Paul is a dear, sweet, wonderful man. I can’t express how sad I am. I thought a run would definitely help me now.

After a minor debate about what to wear (it’s cold, but not that cold, then again I’m not in top running shape, etc etc), I put on leggings and my long-sleeved army t-shirt. A headband to cover my ears, I was set. It turned out to be just the right amount of clothes for the temperature. I pulled the sleeves over my hands. I could rock this.

But I couldn’t rock it very fast. I soon felt that I was plodding along in a ridiculous fashion. I felt fat and middle-aged. Well, I didn’t think the run was going to instantaneously cheer me up. I kept going.

I never got any of those endorphins you hear about. I never even reached the “I can rock this” stage, although eventually I realized I could at least keep up the plod for as long as I decided to. I decided to keep it up for about as long as my last run. Maybe a little less. Definitely not more.

I didn’t mind it not being a good run. I did mind that little voice that popped into my head saying things like, “Why are you even doing this? What good is this doing you? What good does anything do anybody?” I ignored the voice as best as I could and kept going.

Then I heard a squeaky noise. Was that a dog? Or a bird? It was a puppy, on a chain outside a house.

“Hi, cute puppy!” I said. He was behind a fence, so I couldn’t pet him. I don’t like to pet strange dogs anyways, unless their people are right there to ask. The dog looked at me and started making whimpering noises. Oh dear, he was sad! He wanted to go in the house. After I was past, he returned to the door and continued his high-pitched barking. I wanted to go knock on the door and say, “Let that puppy in the house!”

I don’t know how long that puppy was out there. I don’t think it was too cold for a dog to be outside. Perhaps his owners had a very good reason for having him out there. But he wanted to go inside! I felt so sad for that little puppy, I cried when I walked my cool down with Tabby.

Sometimes when you feel a certain way, you just have to feel that way until you don’t feel that way any more. I will at least strive to not write such a downer blog post tomorrow.

And I may go for a short walk later, just to see that the puppy has been let back into the house.

Wrist Firmly on Forehead

Well, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday after all.

I went wine tasting in the Finger Lakes yesterday with certain female members of my family. I’m a little tired today. Oh, stop looking so smug and self-righteous; I didn’t taste all that many wines. I was no more obnoxious than I am in the usual course of things (I know, some feel that is plenty obnoxious enough). However, it was a long day, and I am not a young woman.

Steven and I went for a walk with Tabby just now, thinking a pedestrian post would be acceptable on a Sunday. Hmmm… not much of a walk. No interesting anecdotes resulted. No striking observations or even silly jokes.

I put some chicken in the oven, so I suppose I could make something of a cooking post. Hmmm… that would take far more words than I am at present inclined to type (I did mention that it was Wrist to Forehead Sunday, didn’t I?).

I looked at the draft I am STILL working on about The Tingler, only to discover that there is at least a page and a half still in my notebook I haven’t even typed in yet. And I believe there is still more to write (it is going to be SUCH an anticlimax when I finally publish that damn Tingler post; it’ll never live up to expectations now).

So, I guess this is my Sunday post. A few lame excuses and a half-hearted preview of coming attractions. I wish I could muster the exuberance of last Sunday’s declared day off. Oh well, we all do what we can. I hope to see you on Monday.

The Head-Shaped Dent.

Here is a good way to cause trouble at work:

First you say to Minerva, “You should take that metal basket and hit Endymion over the head with it so it will make a head-shaped dent in the basket.”

If Minerva does this, you’re all set. If she does not, the next time you see Endymion, say, “Minerva said she was going to hit you over the head with that metal basket so it would make a head-shaped dent in the basket.” Then when Minerva says no, that is what YOU told her to do, say, “Would I say a thing like that?” You might have to practice your wide-eyed look of innocence, unless you are already really good at it, like I am.

If trouble has not yet ensued, you can later say to Endymion, “I lied earlier. Minerva never said she was going to make a head-shaped dent in the basket. She said she would make a basket-shaped dent in your head.”

Later on, when Pyramus takes one of the baskets, you can tell him that Minerva will probably hit him over the head with it, making either a basket-shaped or a head-shaped dent, depending. It is unlikely Minerva will deny this.

This trouble-making method will work in almost any workplace that has people named Minerva and Endymion. I don’t mention Pyramus is this paragraph, because doesn’t everybody know a Pyramus?

Beyond Lame

It is a rare day when I can’t even seem to write a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. Then again, it is Lame Post Friday. How lame is it to not even be able to write a lame post?

In my defense… oh, never mind my defense. It’s just more kvetching about my ill health. What in the world is the matter with me anyways? All I do is complain. Then again, the more you complain, the longer God lets you live, according to an older sister of mine.

That is pretty much what I wrote at work. Then I worked on my novel, so at to ease my guilt, and wrote a letter, because I like to write a letter. My usual method while at work is to think about my blog post while working then write it on a break. I had other things to think about today. I’m going wine tasting with the girls tomorrow. That is, the girls in my family. I could go into some half-baked philosophy about how hanging out with your family is both more and less pressure than hanging out with friends, but quite frankly, I’m afraid some of my family might read this. Probably they won’t, but you never know.

In the meantime, my headache is back, so to avoid more tiresome kvetching, I will end this post. Just barely over 200 words. I say it’ll do.

Kind of a Time Warp

I had intended to have all posts about Halloween movies till Halloween night. I have plenty of material to work with, thanks to TCM and the miracle of DVR. Well, I was working on it, and let me tell you, my post on The Tingler is getting scary and not in a good way.

On the brighter side, I noticed yesterday on my computer that WordPress seems to be twelve hours ahead of me. Thus yesterday, when I wrote about Cat People, was Halloween. Today I can go on to November, or as the retail world seems to think, Christmas. I was thinking I could post this silliness tomorrow on Lame Post Friday, when I realized, according to WordPress, THAT’S TODAY!

However, as I wrote the preceding earlier, before beginning my shift at work, it was (and still is as I type this) Thursday. Non-Sequitur Thursday, in fact (if you saw me trying to rearrange the paragraphs of my Tingler post using asterisks, you would agree that it is). I was and still am having an indecisive day. I had to flip a coin to decide whether to drink coffee or water as I was writing before work (drinking both was ineligible for reasons I will not go into here).

I wrote more while at work, but it was fairly tiresome. There was one parenthetical comment I rather liked, but I can’t figure out how to fit it in now. At any rate, I am over 200 words. I deem that respectable. I will continue to work on my post about The Tingler and eventually publish it, regardless of the day WordPress or the calendar say it is.

Don’t Pooh-Pooh Your Wife!

I continue my Halloween week posts with a horror movie that is not cheesy. I find that oddly appropriate for a Wuss-out Wednesday.

I DVR’d Cat People (1942) with high hopes. When I learned it was a low-budget, independent film, that sounded even better. When Robert Osborne said in pre-movie commentary that it was part of their series about monsters who needed a little TLC from the opposite sex, I hesitated. Then again, Bride of Frankenstein falls into that category, so I said, “Bring it.”

It turns out Cat People is one of those movies that rises above its limitations to present a scary, suspenseful story. There are no special effects to speak of, but shadow and suggestion are used with excellent results. So with my usual Spoiler Alert, let’s get started.

The story centers around the marriage between a fine young man (at least, I don’t think he’s so fine as things turn out, but that’s getting ahead of myself) and a mysterious foreign girl. The two meet in front of the panther cage at the zoo. The girl will return to this site as her life goes downhill. The zookeeper tells her the panther is evil and quotes Revelations in support of this. That rather impressed me. I know very few people who can quote from Revelations. He quotes one of the scarier passages, so that is some nice foreshadowing.

More foreshadowing happens when the young man tries to gift the girl with a cat and the cat hates her.

Pause for PSA: Don’t randomly give people pets! First make sure (a) they want a pet, (b) they are able to care for a pet, and (c) they are not cursed from some ancient foreign village thing. Back to the movie.

They trade in the cat for a bird, after every bird in the shop expresses fear and loathing of her. Fighting fate, she says she is certain the bird will love her and vice versa. No more about that bird, because you know how I hate to see an animal come to a bad end.

So the Girl tells some scary stories of the village she comes from and expresses the fear she could be cursed. When an evil-looking, vaguely feline woman greets her as “sister” at their wedding party, the Girl’s fears increase. We never see the evil-looking one again, which of course was a disappointment to me. I greatly prefer a thorough-going evil monster to a conflicted, unhappy, cursed one. Then again, I’m trying to talk about the movie I did see, not lament the one I wish I had seen.

Young Man pooh-poohs his new wife’s fears, and they are off in pursuit of wedded bliss, which naturally eludes them.

I blame the husband, and not just because I’m a girl. You should never pooh-pooh your spouse unless he or she is clearly hoping to be pooh-poohed. Young Man goes on to make a number of stupid moves regarding the attractive, all-American woman he works with, arousing his wife’s jealousies.

Things soon start to get creepy, but Young Man still insists the fears are pooh-pooh-able. He gets the Girl a psychiatrist instead of a priest or exorcist or lion-tamer or somebody.

There are a couple of really scary scenes utilizing footsteps and lighting. The body count is not high, and there are no gruesome scenes of the cat slashing away. I call that making a virtue out of necessity, because it turns out to be a pretty satisfying Halloween watch.

Horrible History or The Humpbacked Murderer

I’m making bold to write about another horror movie, because it is Halloween week. Steven and I watched three this past Sunday. I do love to write about horror movies. Some may protest that The Tower of London (1962) sounds more like history than horror, but I think it veers more into the horror genre.

I knew I would be in for some spurious history, because the movie is about Richard III and the princes in the tower. However, Vincent Price as a hump-backed murderer, what’s not to like?

Richard III, many historians now say, did not have a hump and did not murder his nephews in order to seize the throne. These stories were commissioned by Henry VII, who defeated Richard III and became king himself, thus proving the adage that history is written by the winners.

Full disclosure: I may have that wrong or I may be quoting some controversial revisionism. I may look up some more information on Richard III and get back to you. Right now I want to write about a horror movie.

I feel no spoiler alert is necessary, because a voice-over at the beginning tells us what is going to happen: Richard Plantagenet is going to murder people who are going to come back and haunt him. I believe at the time this picture was made everybody believed the hump-backed murderer story, so perhaps the filmmakers figured people knew that already anyways.

I, of course, know all about what “everybody knows” about Richard III, because I saw a production of the play Richard III by William Shakespeare. I kept comparing what I remember about that play to this movie, and I was a little disappointed that Richard never said, “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer…” (That’s all I remember of that speech.)

After the spoiler voice-over, the movie gets right down to business with Richard having a hunchback and looking evil. I could see where Mel Brooks got the idea for Igor’s movable hump, because Price’s prosthetic is not real consistent. Then again, my memory may be at fault and I only think the hump changed. If I watch the movie again, I’ll take hump notes (anyways, why would I not include a reference to Young Frankenstein if I thought I could get away with it?).

One of my favorite aspects of watching an old period piece like this one is the hats. I don’t know what they kept putting on Price’s head, but as far as I was concerned it didn’t do enough to cover his bowl haircut. At times I thought he looked like a Pilgrim from the neck up. Oh well, Thanksgiving is coming.

The women’s hats were more fun. One lady sported the traditional princess hat of a cone with a filmy scarf hanging from its point. Richard’s wife Anne had the best headgear. I’m not sure if the costume designers got them from paintings of the era (or within a couple hundred years; you know Hollywood) or from a deck of playing cards. Perhaps the Queen of Hearts, because in this picture, Richard truly loves his wife. She is a good wife, too, all encouraging his evil ambitions and to hell with everybody else. It’s sad what happens to her, which, spoiler alert or not, I won’t share here.

So almost right away, Richard starts murdering and almost immediately following, he starts to be haunted by the ghosts of his victims. You’d think he would repent his evil ways after the first ghost, but, no, after bouts of tremulous madness, he gets his evil mojo back and continues his blood-strewn path to the throne.

He is helped along the way by some henchman whose name I didn’t catch. I kept waiting for the henchman to turn on him or come to a bad end himself, but if it happened, I missed that part. I’m sure some people think that if I’m going to write about movies, it would behoove me to watch them with more attention. Well, I’m not apologizing, because I was roasting pumpkin seeds. It is Halloween week, after all.

Not Up On All the Good Guy Rules

Two weekends ago, I watched an unusual Hammer Studios film in which Christopher Lee played the good guy, The Devil’s Bride (1968).

Before I forget, Spoiler Alert! I may even give away the ending this time. Perhaps I should also include a No Cheese Alert, because although Hammer Films are quite fun to write about and I do poke fun at them, I could not say they were cheesy. The production values are too good, for one thing. The films are visually appealing. Sets and costumes reflect effort and expense. Perhaps one day I’ll do a whole post pontificating on the cheesiness inherent in the horror genre. In the meantime, back to today’s feature.

The movie opens with Lee and a friend in a carriage riding to a reunion of some sort (you know I never bother about details). They decide to stop at the house of this guy that seems to have dropped from sight. We learn that this is the son of a friend of theirs. The friend is deceased, and Lee and his companion are pledged to take care of the son, now a fine young man.

When they arrive at the young man’s house, some party is going on. An innocent-looking girl says, “Oh, I thought there were only supposed to be 13 of us.” So in case we missed the title, we are clued in. Channeling Sherlock Holmes, Lee tells his friend to listen in on the other guests’ conversations.

When Young Man is all, “So sorry I can’t ask you to stay,” Lee pipes up with, “Can I just look at your telescope quick?” and bounds up the stairs.

The weird charts on the wall and cryptic symbols on the floor are explained away as decorations. Less easily explained are the two chickens Young Man tries to keep Lee from finding.

Lee says he would rather see Young Man dead than involved with this stuff, so this could have been a really short movie, although kind of a downer. Instead, Lee punches him in the face, knocking him cold.

I have to say it again, that is perhaps the movie cliche I find most annoying which is the least true. If it was that easy to knock somebody out with a blow to the face, most boxing matches would be a lot shorter. Oh, I know some boxers do knock their opponents out with one blow, but these are professional punchers and even they can’t do it every time. It is extremely unlikely that random movie characters can accomplish it so conveniently. Rant over.

So Lee and Friend get Young Man to Lee’s house, where Lee brings him around, hypnotizes him, slips a crucifix around his neck and sends him upstairs to sleep it off.

Of course he does not stay safely asleep or, again, this would have been a shorter movie. It’s round one to Satan (or rather his henchmen), but Lee says, “At least we saved the chickens.” That may be, but he leaves them in the basket in the telescope room closet. If he was really going to save them, shouldn’t he, for example, have brought them out to the chicken coop and gotten them some feed and water? Or is that just my Be Kind to Animals obsession talking?

Lee sends his Friend off to rescue the Girl, remember, the one who thought there were only supposed to be 13. Did I mention she is suitable for Friend to fall in love with? I can’t remember where Young Man is at this point. Lee is off to the British Museum for research. My inner geek rejoices at the thought of combating evil through books, but Lee puts an awful lot of faith in somebody who just now began to believe in Satan.

That is the first of several times Lee gives his second string good guys instructions and goes off to do his own thing. You know they aren’t going to be able to handle it. Only the main good guy can ultimately triumph over evil. Then again, as we said earlier, Lee usually plays the bad guy. He’s probably not up on all the good guy rules. And here I am again, carping on the usual means employed to keep the conflict going so the movie is feature length.

And then a bunch of stuff happens.

It seems the head Satan worshipper has vast if inconsistent powers. He can remotely hypnotize people, only sometimes it doesn’t work. And like all movie bad guys and monsters, his victims follow his nefarious instructions at differing rates of speed, depending on plot requirements. One of his followers picks up the hypnotism trick, too, although to what end, I’m not sure. She hypnotizes the guy who’s trying to save her through bondage (it makes sense in the movie), but spends the rest of the scene staring out the window at a storm. Awaiting further instructions, I suppose.

I confess there was a whole lot I did not pay attention to. For example, there is an outdoor worship fest that reminded me of the KKK rally in O Brother, Where Art Thou? I busied myself in the kitchen when I saw a goat and feared it would come to a bad end (there I go again with the Be Kind to Animals).

There is a little girl who is a pretty good actress, not too cute, not too bratty. Of course she is placed in grave danger. I blame Lee. He has the grown-ups (of the non-servant variety) upstairs in the middle of a fancy chalk circle with salt and holy water and whatnot. The kid is in bed being watched over by some old butler or caretaker. Not even a crucifix. Hello! What do you think is going to happen?

I don’t need a spoiler alert to tell you the movie ends with Satan’s followers vanquished (I’m sure the big buy survives to fight another day). Young Man says, “Thank God,” to which Lee piously agrees. You know, apart from the crucifix, there is very little reference to God. Shouldn’t He be the first one you call when you are fighting Satan? I’m just saying.

However, movies are more into the props and, as I mentioned earlier, maintaining the conflict to feature length. Speaking of length, this is getting to be one of my longer posts, so I’ll save the philosophical discussion for Lame Post Friday.

I Declare a Day Off

So I was all apologetic about, what was is? five foolish posts last week. And here I am NOT writing a real post today. And I don’t care!

It is not Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I am actually having a pretty good day. I went running this morning and took Tabby for a walk (in addition to our usual cool-down)(yes, both potentially bloggable activities). I did the dishes (not so bloggable, but in a pinch…). I am cooking potato soup (definitely bloggable; I invented the recipe). Oh, and I watched not one but two cheesy movies yesterday. My possibilities are endless!

And I say to hell with it! I’m taking another day off! Just because I want to! And I’ll use just as many exclamation points as I feel like!

So go ahead, shake your finger at me or point and laugh, according to your inclination. I’m going back to stirring my soup and enjoying my day. I hope you are enjoying yours as well.