Tag Archives: entertainment

Just Sew the Head Back On!

Posted on October 30, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Spoiler Alert! I’m going to tell most of the plot of today’s movie. I’m really more interested in commenting about it than in being circumspect.

We continued our enjoyment of Peter Cushing as Dr. Frankenstein with Frankenstein Created Woman (1967).

I was a little disappointed that the movie did not pick up where Revenge of Frankenstein ended. On consulting Leonard Maltin, however (Leonard Maltin’s 2007 Movie Guide, Penguin Group, New York, 2006), I find that this movie is in fact the sequel to Evil of Frankenstein, which I did not see. That explains it.

The movie opens similarly to Revenge, however, with an ominous shot of a guillotine. The intended beheadee this time is not Dr. F but a common or garden thief and murderer. He is laughing at his fate until he sees his son in the distance watching.

The guillotine certainly makes for a chilling beginning, especially when we see the bloody blade being raised after the head drops. The guillotine, of course, was an efficient means of execution. That guy with the big ax sometimes missed, I’ve read. But guy with ax or guillotine, one thing you can say about getting beheaded: there was no chance they were going to bury you while you were still alive. Come to think of it, in a Frankenstein movie, I guess that’s not much of a fear anyways, because he digs up bodies. But I digress.

Flashing forward, the executed man’s son is all grown up and passes by the guillotine every day on his way to his job as — did you guess? I didn’t — Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant. Dr. F is also assisted by a bumbling old fool of a doctor, who is actually pretty endearing. I was reminded of Holmes and Watson (which is a little blog foreshadowing, by the way, because I also DVR’d The Hound of Baskervilles, starring none other than Peter Cushing as Sherlock Holmes).

Things get a little weird for a Frankenstein movie. He doesn’t sew any dead body parts together. So once again, the possibilities of the guillotine are wasted. Well, I guess not entirely, but that part comes later.

This time out, Dr. F is interested in the soul, which he says does not leave the body right away upon death.

“Where does it go?” asks Bumbling Old Doctor. I don’t think Dr. F has a good answer for that one.

As the movie progresses, we find out that Hans — that’s the guillotined guy’s son — is in love with the daughter of the owner of the local tavern. She is scarred and crippled. The origin of the scars is not explained, but it looks as if half her face has been burned. However, since she has a Veronica Lake thing going on with her long red hair, she is still cute. The crippled thing is harder to disguise, especially when some drunken upper-crust louts demand she wait on them, so they can make fun of her. Oh yes, the audience is wanting these guys to be cut up and used for body parts.

Ah, but this is a different Dr. Frankenstein. He wants to put somebody’s soul into a different body, and he gets his chance when Hans is sentenced to the guillotine.

I know what you’re thinking: “Just sew his head back on! It’s what you do!” That is what I was thinking it. But now that I think more about it, I remember that in Revenge of Frankenstein, he said he couldn’t put a dead brain into his patchwork body. But now it’s all about the soul, and the brain is not even mentioned (insert brainless joke of your choice).

You know, the more I think about it, the more I think Cushing’s character is just a regular old mad scientist, and they named him Frankenstein to buy into the franchise. Canny marketing strategy. I mean, I would have watched the movie anyways, but you can’t always go by me.

Where was I? Ah yes, Hans’ soul is put into the dead body of his girlfriend, who drowned herself in despair after he got guillotined. Yes, I’ve skipped a few plot points. You know how I am about details.

So what happens to the girl’s soul is a question nobody asks, but I think the answer is she’s still around, although she has no idea who she is or how she got there. However, she is now a beautiful, unscarred, uncrippled blond. I guess it’s a good thing she doesn’t know who she is or the first words out of her mouth may have been, “Thanks a lot, Doc! You couldn’t have done that while I was alive, I suppose?”

Just about the time I was complaining, “Isn’t there any comeuppance for those louts?” Blondie turns into a murderous vixen, commanded by, yes, Hans’ dismembered head, which she has apparently dug out of the grave (the doctors let him get buried after they got his soul).

Hey, maybe if Dr. F would have known what Blondie was up to, he could have put the louts’ souls into other people’s bodies, too. That would have made for a much longer movie, though, so I guess it’s just as well.

The movie ends pretty abruptly, with almost everybody dead, except Dr. Frankenstein. So he is all set for another sequel. I hope TCM shows it next Saturday.

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Can’t Be Too Cheesy

Posted on October 29, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Spoiler Alert! I’m not going to give away the whole plot, but I might ruin a surprise or two.

TCM has not shown any Whistler movies lately, but they have obliged with a few Hammer Films.

I made a note of “It’s a Hammer Film” in the TV Journal when we watched The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958) last Sunday. Last night I found I was correct to do so. Ben Mankiewicz, in pre-movie commentary to another Frankenstein movie, informed us that Hammer Films became known for the horror genre.

Revenge of Frankenstein stars Peter Cushing as the mad doctor. I first became aware of Cushing many years ago, when he had a part in the first Star Wars movie (that’s the first MOVIE, not the first “episode,” of which I know very little). Cushing, as I understood it, was one of a couple of older, highly respected actor’s actors brought in to class up the operation. Now it’s a name which, when I see it in a movie, I say, “Can’t be too cheesy.” Still, any horror movie from the ’50s or ’60s is going to have a certain kitsch factor, especially one about Frankenstein. Hello! Sewing together dead people to bring them back to life! Even Kenneth Branaugh could bring only so much weight to that.

The movie opens with Dr. Frankenstein facing the guillotine for his crimes. Apparently this is not the first Frankenstein movie in the series (“Revenge of” kind of clued me into that already). But there is no problem following the plot from where they start, no need for lengthy flashbacks. Actually, in a Frankenstein movie, flashbacks look a little silly. I mean, we all KNOW the story or at least enough that we can follow along (I, of course, know the whole story; I read the book) (sorry, didn’t mean to sound smug).

I was a little disappointed that Dr. F didn’t get beheaded and sew his own head back on, but that would have been a whole other movie, I suppose. Instead, the scene changes before the blade clangs down and I don’t think anybody is too much surprised to learn that our “hero” escaped execution with the help of a confederate (that’s all we’re told about how it was done. I personally would have liked a flashback showing the trick) (after all, you never know when you might need to know these things).

The next thing we know, a certain Dr. Stein (subtle!) is practicing medicine in, oh, I forget where. Presumably a country with no extradition policy or no guillotines. The local medical association is a little miffed he hasn’t tried to join or otherwise seek their permission before stealing all their patients.

It seems the ladies love Dr. Stein. Hmmm. I guess the young Peter Cushing had a sort of charm. Maybe it’s that crisp, businesslike aloofness. That unattainability that drives some women nuts.

At any rate, Dr. Stein’s waiting room for his upper crust patients who pay through the nose is always full. He uses this income to subsidize his free clinic for the poor, which is another thing that the ladies love about him. So unselfish! So dedicated! They don’t realize he is using that clinic as a source for body parts (but you knew right away, didn’t you?).

I do hope he washes the parts before he uses them, because a lot is made of how the poor people don’t wash. One fellow in particular — I think he is employed at the clinic in some menial capacity — brags his head off about how that’s why he’s so healthy. Um, he does not literally brag is head off, although I guess that would have been appropriate in a Frankenstein movie that opens with a guillotine.

Dr. Stein has a crippled assistant named Carl, and he acquires a young doctor protege. The young doctor recognizes who Dr. Stein is, but does not think he is evil. He thinks he is brilliant and wants to work with him and learn. There is a also a beautiful, young, upper crust girl who volunteers at the clinic, and the stage is set.

And that is about as far as I want to go, because, spoiler alert aside, I really don’t want to give any more away. There are some unexpected twists and turns. You may see the ending coming, but it’s still pretty satisfying. I didn’t see it coming a mile away, but pretty much guessed it just before it happened. I felt pretty pleased with myself that I guessed right.

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I Forgot the Plot

Posted on October 16, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Saturday I watched not one but two Whistler movies DVR’d from TCM (does that sound like I’m spelling things so some little kid doesn’t know what I’m talking about?).

The first was Return of the Whistler. I confess, I spent most of Monday morning trying to remember what the plot was so I could write about it. So, yeah, I guess you could say it is not very memorable.

A man and woman are on their way to get married. We sense there is something about this woman she is not telling us. At least, I think we’re supposed to. I was mostly trying to figure out what her accent was supposed to be. She’s French, we find out later. OK.

When they go in to see the Justice of the Peace, somebody stops and monkeys with their car with the result that they are stuck. Which is just as well, because the JP as been called away and can’t marry them till morning. By morning, however, the bride has disappeared (come now, you didn’t think they could spend the night in the same room before they were married, did you?). Then things get complicated.

And that is pretty much all I can tell you without giving away some of the jolting twists of the plot. I don’t want to do that, because jolts are about all this movie has going for it. The romance is blah, the solution is silly, and there is zero comic relief. And no Richard Dix! I don’t think anybody even gets killed, which makes it a little odd that the Whistler is even involved.

I did not realize the second movie was a Whistler movie till we actually watched it. I couldn’t recall the title of that one this morning, but luckily had made a note of it in the TV Journal: The Mysterious Intruder. When we watched it, we noted a subtitle “A Whistler Movie.” Richard Dix stars in this one, and it is directed by William Castle. So right away I liked it better.

I DVR’d it because I liked the description, something about a detective tracking somebody who leaves a trail of bodies. Now, in the scheme of things, serial killers do not interest me nearly as much as a personal murder for an understandable reason. But for a cheesy old movie, trail of bodies sounded good. As it turned out, all the murders were for a sound reason, all stemming from the original killing for gain.

This, by the way, is often the case. Hercule Poirot said murder is a habit. You steel yourself to kill one person for what you think is a compelling reason. The next thing you know, you have to kill some other guy, because he’s onto you, and then somebody else, because she’s going to get the thing you killed the first guy for. Less and less steel is required.

But I digress. Anyways, there is no indication that this killer had any problem killing the first guy.

Richard Dix plays a private investigator. The movie opens with this old guy trying to hire him to trace this little blonde girl he used to know. He’s pretty cagey about it, but indicates that great wealth is at stake.

And this is where, once again, I really don’t want to go on, because I would no doubt give away major plot points. In fact, it may be giving too much away to tell you that things are not what they seem. Oops.

The movie clips right along, fast enough that you don’t notice the pick-up-truck-sized holes in the plot. In fact, I spent a good portion of Monday morning (when I wasn’t trying to remember the other movie) saying, “Waaaait a minute!” But at the time, I zipped right along with the rest of them.

In conclusion, I’d say either movie is entertaining enough to catch on a dull night home. And trying to remember one plot and saying “Wait a minute!” about another added some interest to my Monday morning. I don’t have a rating system like thumbs up or three apples. Maybe that’s what I’ll spend my Tuesday morning thinking about.

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Some Intrepid Girl Reporter

Posted on October 9, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I think back pain must also effect the brain (cue brainless jokes) (you know who you are), because I had completely forgotten about another horror classic I watched on Saturday, The Corpse Vanishes (1942) starring Bela Lugosi.

Of course, starring Bela Lugosi is not a guarantee a movie will be any good or even that it will be a horror movie (remember when Boris Karloff played that Chinese detective?). Still, with the word “corpse” in the title, I figured we’d at least get to see those famous scary eyes.

The movie starts out quickly enough with a bride dropping dead just as she’s about to say “I do” (cue anti-marriage jokes). A photographer rushes in and takes a picture (paparazzi in 1942?). The undertaker takes the body away, and we catch a glimpse of some scary eyes in the back of the hearse. Oh boy! Then the real undertaker shows up. Oh no!

“Another kidnapping of a dead bride!” exclaims a girl from a newspaper who has just been denied an interview with the bride’s father. “What a story!”

At this point I sat up as straight as my bad back would allow and cheered. An intrepid girl reporter! Yay!

As per usual, Intrepid Girl Reporter gets no respect from her paper. The editor sends her to the next society wedding and he ONLY wants her to find out who’s there and what the bride is wearing.

“But what if I get a clue?” she asks. He does not deem this likely.

The mother of the bride in this wedding has demanded police protection. As the bride prepares, a mysterious orchid arrives, which she naturally pins right on. It MUST come from the groom, right?

Hello! Two minutes earlier the groom was at the door and was denied admittance. Would he not at that point have said, “Oh, well, give her this orchid from me.” That occurs to no one, and apparently the police protection does not extend to questioning deliverers of mysterious orchids.

Predictably, this bride also drops dead. They make sure the coffin gets on the right hearse, which is surrounded by motorcycle cops, but Bela cleverly steals it anyways. Intrepid Girl Reporter ends up with the orchid, which she — and nobody else — immediately recognizes as a clue.

Meanwhile, we follow Bela to his lonely mansion, castle, whatever it is (I missed the exterior shot), with the mysterious laboratory, and we find out why he wants the corpses of beautiful young women. He uses them (by means which are not clear but that hardly matters in a movie like this) to keep his wife young and beautiful. Does she have a wasting disease that makes her look old before her time? NO! She’s just old and doesn’t want to look that way! Come on, lady, none of us do! Slap on some Oil of Olay, schedule a Mary Kay makeover and drive on!

Perhaps I should be a little more understanding. These were the days before botox, after all. And, without this woman’s desire to look young, there wouldn’t be any movie. But she is so annoying! She’s crying with these big, loud sobs that go on and on, begging her husband to hurry, she needs [whatever he does] NOW! I was wishing he would give her a mysterious orchid so she’d just shut up already.

Intrepid Girl Reporter tracks down Bela through the orchid, which is surprisingly easy. What dumb cops they have in these movies. Law enforcement ought to sue Hollywood for defamation. Come to think of it, so should intrepid girl reporters, because this one is not a good representative. She spends a lot of time screaming and fainting (I think Fay Wray screamed once in The Mystery of the Wax Museum, but you really couldn’t blame her and she was intrepid the whole rest of the time).

It’s not a bad movie, in spite of Boo-Hoo Wife, Dumb Cops and Not So Intrepid Girl Reporter. There are some scary parts and a few creepy minor characters I haven’t mentioned (thought I’d save you something). One might wonder if it was really all that memorable, seeing as I forgot I had watched it till Monday morning when I was pondering my blog topic (it was kind of like, “Wait a minute, didn’t I see three movies on Saturday?”). But on looking back, I will give it this accolade: it was fun at the time.

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Shopping with Corman

Posted on October 8, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

As I mentioned yesterday, due to a bad back all I was good for was watching cheesy movies — uh, I mean horror classics. I continued my viewing with Roger Corman’s Little Shop of Horrors (1960).

The movie later became an off-Broadway musical, which was also made into a movie with Rick Moranis and Steve Martin. I never saw the play, and I did not like the movie (although in general I like both Moranis and Martin). However, I saw a trailer for the original movie on the Extra Features of Horror Hotel, and I was intrigued. I found it in Steven’s Collection of 50 Horror Classics.

In case you’ve never heard of the movie or play, it is about a man-eating plant. The plant is raised by a nebbishy loser who is on the verge of getting fired from a Skid Row florist at which he works. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s raising and discovers quite by accident that the plant craves blood and eats people. Complications ensue.

I have to say I liked it. Corman throws in a lot of comedy, some of which is heavy handed. For example, at every opportunity, the nebbish sticks his foot in a bucket and trips. It takes some finesse to pull off a bit like that and not have your audience say, “Where do all these empty mop buckets keep coming from?” Roger Corman films are not known for use of finesse. However, that is part of their charm, and I did get enjoy a chuckle or two.

I especially liked the florist’s one regular customer, a lady with an apparently infinite supply of relatives who died and needed flowers sent to the funeral. I also like the florist, the struggling businessman who is alternately ready to fire the nebbish or adopt him as a son and is reasonably torn between doing the right thing and making money.

The big name in the cast is Jack Nicholson. I had known he was in the movie, but I was under the impression he played the sadistic dentist later portrayed by Steve Martin. Not so: Nicholson is hilarious and a little scary as a masochistic patient. It is not a large part. At Nicholson’s stature now it would be a cameo. At his stage of career then, it is a memorable bit.

Leonard Maltin in his 2007 Movie Guide (Penguin Group, New York, 2006) says the movie is now seen as one of Corman’s best. I can see why. The plot moves right along, there are some good scares, and the dramatic conclusion is fitting. An enjoyable interlude on a Saturday afternoon. I may try it again sometime without the backache.

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Saturday Movie Matinee

Posted on October 7, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I am hoping that this blog does not degenerate into All Back Pain All The Time, but can I just say, Ow. There was not a chance that I could run this morning and write a blog post about that. I thought I might manage a walking post, but I tried it and no dice. I did, however, watch an old horror movie and I’d like to write about that.

Spoiler alert! I may even give away the ending this time. We’ll see how it goes. I will say right up front that this is not a bad movie; I do not feel you would be wasting your time by watching it. So if you like this sort of thing, you might want to stop reading, go watch Horror Hotel, then come back and read this (clearly I do not feel that anybody’s time is wasted reading my blog).

Horror Hotel (1960) is the first entry in a DVD collection I got for Steven some years ago called “Horror Movie Classics.” It came in a tin box that makes horror noises when you push a little button on top. I purchased it mainly because it included the silent classic Nosferatu, one of the scariest pictures ever made. But I find I enjoy the cheesier entries as well.

The first thing that struck me about Horror Hotel is that the opening scene, a flashback to a witch burning in 17th century New England, was used in The Curse of the Blair Witch.

Wait a minute, have I written about this before? At this point it would behoove me to check. However, that would entail making my painful way up the stairs to the computer, waiting while it boots up and sitting on a chair which totally exacerbates my suspected sciatica for as long as it takes me to search every entry I’ve written about movies. That ain’t gonna happen. Oh well, they show re-runs on TV all the time. And scripted shows recycle plot lines ad infinitum. Anyways, maybe I never wrote about Horror Hotel in the first place.

Where was I? ah yes, the witch burning scene later recycled by the clever Blair Witch people. It turns out that this is a part of a lecture given by a wild-eyed professor who is, I think, getting just a little too heated about his subject matter. Of course a beautiful blonde student is fascinated by it all. She wants to go to the site of the aforementioned burning and do research, over the disapproval of her science professor brother and varsity sweater wearing boyfriend.

Setting aside the wild-eyed professor, this movie is lousy with foreshadowing. For one thing, here’s the ground level fog which never goes away. Seriously, outside of a haunted house with a good dry ice machine, has anybody ever actually walked through this thick, scary mist on the ground? I never have.

Naturally Blondie ignores the gas station attendant who tells her “decent folk” do not go where she is headed. Naturally she picks up the scary hitchhiker who speaks in sepulchral tones using language from another century, apparently thinking he’s a perfectly nice guy that needs a ride even though it is just a bit odd that he disappears abruptly without saying goodbye or opening the car door. And why wouldn’t she explore that dark, cobwebby basement where there isn’t supposed to be one?

I’ve skipped a bunch of stuff, which I think is a good thing if you ever want to watch the movie. I think I’ll skip a bunch of other stuff, too. For one thing, it is probably going to be painful to sit at the computer and type this in (man, I love writing a blog; you can get away with all kinds of stuff).

The climax is exciting. I may be giving away too much by saying that evil is vanquished, but I just wanted to tell you that I sat there asking, “Why didn’t they just do that 300 years ago and save these kids the trouble?”

Well, over 600 words and my back isn’t hurting too badly. I think I’ll go lounge on the couch some more and watch some more horror classics. That way I’ll have something to write about if I’m not up for more energetic Mohawk Valley adventures soon.

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The Whistler Once Again

Posted on October 2, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I was very happy on Saturday morning to see another Whistler movie listed for TCM. I naturally DVR’d it for Steven’s and my enjoyment on Sunday. By the way, Spoiler Alert! Although I do not intend to give away the ending.

The Secret of the Whistler opens with the usual shadow of a man and sound of whistling followed by voice-over narration.

I have not mentioned that all the Whistler movies have starred Richard Dix. So far we’ve seen him as a businessman who changes his mind about suicide by hit man, a mysterious stranger who enlists the help of a beautiful blond, and a rich guy who turns to murder after supposedly learning how to live. This time out he plays an apparently not very talented artist who nobody particularly likes living off his ailing wife.

The description of the movie in the Guide said an artist’s second wife suspects he killed the first wife. This is a plot that has worked very well in any number of gothic romance novels (these are the paperback books with a full moon, a castle and a beautiful girl running, not the teenagers with lots of black make-up) (I suppose I have just dated myself). It took me a while to realize they were going to spend most of the picture getting him married to Wife No. 2.

The movie starts out creepily enough with a woman ordering her own tombstone. At least, the movie clearly means for us to find it creepy or at least surprising. Haven’t these people every heard of pre-planning one’s funeral? The lady says, “You will be notified,” when asked date of death. Well, duh! I think it would have been a good deal more creepy if she had known the date. On the other hand, that may have meant she planned to commit suicide. Oh, hey, what if she would have put as her epitaph: “Murdered.” Just a thought.

Where was I? Ah yes, soon we have the set-up: unsuccessful artist husband sponging off dying wife while making up to beautiful blond gold-digger model. The other characters include a female artist, apparently successful, and her reporter boyfriend and another male artist who is friend and sometime employer of Blondie.

Richard Dix plays all sad-eyes my-wife-is-dying while Blondie plays all wide-eyed sympathy till we’re not really sure who is playing who. Actually, I wish they had played up Blondie as cold-hearted gold-digger a little more. For one thing, when she starts to suspect her new husband of murder she could have had blackmail on her mind. For all I know she did. I don’t think the actress was quite clear on the character’s motivations.

The movie takes an awfully long time to get going. A few times the Whistler addresses Richard Dix, asking him is he getting paranoid, is he getting desperate? I don’t think he did that in the other pictures. Once things do start moving, they move quickly enough gloss over a couple of “Wait a minute!” points.

For example, the loyal (to the first wife) maid is still around, per provision in the will (really, you would think first wife would have left the poor woman a pension, not just a crappy job). The maid says she’s staying to prove the husband a murderer. All she has to do is find the diary. Hello! They were on a three month honeymoon, during which time all the dead wife’s things were moved to the attic and the house redecorated. Even if the maid was locked out for the three months, are her duties so onerous she couldn’t find ten minutes to look in the attic since? It certainly doesn’t take Blondie very long to find said diary when she goes up there.

Things wrap up pretty quickly, as Whistler movies tend to do. Not a bad movie in spite of the slow start. I wish they had done a little more with the tombstone and given the minor characters more scenes, but what do I want in an hour and fifteen minutes? For a cheesy interlude on a Sunday, I enjoyed it.

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Mid-Week Middle-Aged Memory

Posted on September 27, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Alternative title: “When the Hand Dropped”

Last Sunday while watching It! The Terror from Beyond Space, I suddenly said, “I’ve seen this movie!”

A crew member is missing. The rest of the crew has not yet seen the monster, although the audience has seen its feet (which, come to think of it, look a little bit like the Creature of the Black Lagoon’s). One man is standing next to a ventilation grate, pondering. Suddenly, a lifeless hand drops down, inside the grate, right in front of him. EEEEEEEEEEE!

I remembered that hand dropping down. It is, in fact, the only thing in the entire picture I remember from that viewing. Do you suppose there are other sci-fi monster movies where a hand drops down in a grate? And what occurs to me now as I write this is why is that ventilation grate a great big square at eye level looking for all the world like a window? But that’s neither here nor there. I remember the hand.

It was the ’70s. My parents would go out for dinner and dancing on a Saturday night. These were more elegant times: my mom and her friends would wear long dresses, the men wore suits. I admit to being envious. My older sisters and I, once Victoria was deemed old enough to be the babysitter, got to stay up till Mom and Dad got home.

Oh, the joy and mystery of staying up late! These were the days when cable offered seven channels and some stations went off the air at midnight. It was a challenge to find something to watch. We loved it when one of the all night stations showed a scary movie. Who doesn’t want to see a scary movie? At least, who wants to admit to not wanting to seeing a scary movie? I seem to think I wanted to be scared, then didn’t necessarily like it so much when I was.

So there we were, ready to be scared. When the hand dropped, we jumped.

“I don’t think anything would have scared me more than that hand,” Victoria said.

“What if it was that things head?” I asked. I think the thing’s head would have been more scary.

I took all these fake monsters at face value. If I was meant to be scared, I was scared. I was scared of every monster on Lost In Space, even when I could see where they had recycled a monster from two episodes ago.

Well, maybe not as scared of the recycled ones. Then too, things are always scarier at night, especially when Mom and Dad aren’t home. Lost in Space re-runs were generally shown in the afternoon, so those monsters were automatically less nightmare-inducing.

Sometimes we could catch a scary movie on a Saturday afternoon. Didn’t there used to be a feature called Chiller? A six-fingered hand would rise up out of a swamp and a gravelly voice would say, “Chil-ler!” Those were the days.

I suppose now I could segue into a middle-aged musing about how I am trying to recapture my childhood by watching these old movies. I don’t think that’s it, though; I think I just enjoy writing about them. And, you know, really, what I’d like to recapture is my parents’ young adulthood and wear a long dress to go out dancing on a Saturday night.

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Cheese from Beyond Space

Posted on September 26, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

After enjoying our Whistler movie on Sunday, Steven and I arrowed down on the DVR list to It! The Terror from Beyond. It was not until we actually started watching that we discovered the full title is It! The Terror from Beyond Space (1958). It is a misleading title. The terror in question is not from beyond space; it is from Mars, which is right in space (that’s not really a spoiler; we find that out early on).

This time we got to hear some commentary from Ben Mankiewicz, and I knew my instinct for cheese had not misled me.

“Campy? Yes. Cheesy special effects? Yes,” Mankiewicz says. What could be better? He goes on to praise the plot, which has been credited with inspiring Ridley Scott’s Alien. I remember being pretty scared at Alien, and a little grossed out. I also remember that I ultimately did not like that movie, because I don’t like movies where everybody dies — or everybody but one (sorry, Sigourney Weaver). I hoped everybody wouldn’t die this time out.

The movie opens with the sole survivor of a mission to Mars which came to grief. A second mission is going to pick up the survivor and bring him back to earth to face court martial charges of murdering the other eight (or is it nine?). We see a press conference where a guy announces this and all the reporters rush out of the room. I don’t know why they didn’t stay and ask any questions. For example, why would you thing such a thing?

Cut to the ship. Having picked up the prisoner, they are about to take off.

“Hey! Why is that hatch open?” The guy sees on a monitor that it is open; we don’t actually see it.

“Oh, sorry, I was dumping out some crates.”

Gee, I hope nothing got in, don’t you?

At this point I said to Steven, “Oh, I see what the plot’s going to be. The monster’s going to start killing people off and they’re going to think that guy did it.” The plot is actually nothing of the kind. Maybe it was a silly thing to think. After all, what could the guy gain by killing his rescuers/jailers? They’re on a space ship, for heavens’ sake! It’s not like a bus or car he can hijack and drive somewhere else.

Still, I think that would have made a pretty good plot, especially if at first even the audience isn’t sure there’s a monster. In fact, we see the monster right away and there is no doubt in the minds of the crew that someTHING is doing the killing. First we see the monster’s feet. Then his three-fingered, claw-like hand. Then his ugly head.

This is not as suspenseful as it sounds. I mean, we’re seeing the monster; he is not merely hinted at. Then again, the lessons of Jaws were over ten years away. I suppose, too, that guys in suits are never as scary as CGI or whatever it was they used in Alien. Still, they tried.

I bet the guy that was going to the court martial feels just a little bit glad when people start getting killed by the monster. Well, maybe not glad, exactly, but inclined to say, “I told you so!” Sometimes it takes drastic measures to fight murder charges.

There is a bit of a love triangle among one of the women, court martial guy and one of the wounded crew members. She does a lot of hand holding, and, as usual in these situations, I don’t know what she sees in either one of them.

I thought it was very progressive of them to have women on the ship. Of course, they were the medical personnel not real astronauts, but still. They were on the ship, and they did stuff other than scream and be rescued. In fact, I don’t think they did scream, be rescued or do any of the stupid movie female things I like to complain about. You go, girls!

I enjoyed the movie. Ben Mankiewicz was right: the plot is good. The one thing that cracked me up was that every so often they cut to a shot of the space ship moving through space. Like they need to remind us.

It is a long, tall ship, looking a lot like whatever number Apollo was going to the moon when I was in first grade (roughly 100 years ago). I remember at that time being amazed that most of that big ship was fuel needed for take off. In this case, it’s all ship. The interior has a kind of a town house design. Each floor is accessed from the one below via a steep stairway and a center hatch which closes very slowly. There were a couple of times I would have been jumping on that hatch trying to make it close quicker.

I probably would have broken it and then the monster would have gotten us all. Maybe leaving one survivor. Just like in those movies I don’t like.

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Posted in cheese, humor, movies, sci fi and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Books and Music on a Saturday

Posted on September 23, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I was on Facebook this morning (hey, it’s my day off!) and I saw a post from Basloe Library in Herkimer reminding us that Guitar Group meets today. Come hear some acoustic guitar music, they invited. I love acoustic guitars! I asked what time. 11 a.m.to 2 p.m.

I had wanted to go look for some books of plays, seeking something to replace Dirty Work at the Crossroads for Ilion Little Theatres’ fall production. I had thought to go after work Monday, when Steven could join me. However, acoustic guitar music is a great bribe for going today. Also, I might as well start reading plays as soon as possible, right?

Shortly before 11, therefore, I was at the library, wandering the shelves. I tend to have better luck doing that than looking at the supposed card catalog. I call it supposed, because there are neither cards nor a catalog. It is a computer and we all know, sometimes computers mystify me (OK, it’s not that hard to mystify me). I used to rock those little cards in the drawers! But enough strolling down memory late; I was strolling amongst the shelves.

I quickly found three books of plays and one book about an old Hollywood scandal. I do love an old Hollywood scandal. I went to check them out and asked where the guitar players were.

“I can just go listen, right?” I asked.

“Oh, sure, just listen, learn to play, sing along, they don’t kick anybody out.”

“If I tried to sing, they might kick me out,” I told them, but the folks behind the counter did not think that would really happen.

I found the room and sat at a table in the corner. A man was warming up, sounding really good. A few others arrived and they were all chatting and setting up. They were obviously regulars.

They played a lot of different tunes, mostly older stuff. I confess to singing along with “Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue.” Nobody kicked me out, but I sang quietly just in case. One man played the harmonica. I really enjoyed that. I laughed out loud when they sang the song about Rye Whiskey, particularly the verse about if the ocean was whiskey and I was a duck.

“You didn’t actually bring any whiskey, did you?” I asked. Nobody had. One man brought up the inadvisability of drinking whiskey and driving. He had a good point. I was just kidding anyways. I haven’t had whiskey in years.

I only stayed about an hour, but as I left I thanked them and told them I had enjoyed listening.

“Come again!” they invited.

“I will!” I promised. I intend to. It’s a nice way to spend a little time on a Saturday in the Mohawk Valley.

Frank J. Basloe Library is located at 245 N. Main St., Herkimer, NY, phone number 315-866-1733. They are open Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday 10 a.m. to 7 p.m., Thursday and Friday 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Saturday 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. (closed Saturdays during July and August), closed Sundays. For information visit their website at www.midyork.org/herkimer, or you can like them on Facebook. Tell them Mohawk Valley Girl sent you.

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Posted in Community Events, libraries, music, personal and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.
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