How soon is too soon to start studying the nineties?

....as a decade of cultural failure?

Let's look at this for a moment: brought to you by BuzzFeed, 48 Pictures that Perfectly Capture the 90's.

These pictures are a lot of things--they are funny. They are dorky. They are very, very accurate in capturing the decade none of us could ever forget, because we grew up there.

Besides this--quirky, kind of silly, mismatched, weird--there aren't a lot of adjectives that come to mind when you imagine the 90's. There are a lot of nouns, mostly proper nouns--Lisa Frank! Will Smith! Full House!--but it doesn't seem to have the same niche in our cultural consciousness as many other decades from the 21st century. 1990 was more than 20 years ago, but you aren't going to see anybody throwing 90's themed parties.

It's kind of an indescribable era--one can tell, one can feel, if you will, when something is "90's," but it's nearly impossible to explain why. It was a strange transitional period between the so-bad-it's-good style and media from the 80's, but not quite the shiny tech-laced era we spent the past ten years in. For this reason, as well as others, I contend that the 1990's was a decade of cultural failure.

People will protest this statement--Krista, they will say, what about Rugrats? What about Madonna? And they are correct! There are a variety of good things that came out of the nineties. Let's take a look:

• Children's television
• The nineties is characterized by television, namely animated shows on Nickelodeon, and animated Disney films, that were aimed at children but have the vitality to still be enjoyable to those same children today, as they become adults. Finding the balance between subtle adult humor and plots and characters that children would also enjoy was a masterful accomplishment of the decade.
• Surrealist Music: 

What is happening in any of these? Who knows? What caused the nineties to contain this surrealism? Who knows?

• Some good movies.
• Pulp Fiction.
• Good rap music
• And for all the good rap, there is some ridiculously bad rap, too. Exhibit A: 

I'm not talking about things that are so-bad-they're-good, because people's opinions on that differ, and to be fair, the nineties is full of things like that. Even so, the quantity of so-bad-it's-good media and fashion in the nineties doesn't nearly reach that of the eighties, and much of it is good for the novelty and the nostalgia, but how much can you actually take? I'm not saying I don't love Saved by the Bell because of how ridiculous it is, and I'm not contending that I didn't watch every episode of Full House when it was on reruns on ABC family--but they aren't quite ridiculous enough to enjoy the way you can enjoy slasher-boom films of the eighties. The Backstreet Boys and NSync are over the top and crazy, but can they even aspire to the over-the-top craziness of their boy-band predecessors like Drop Dead Fred or, more subtly, Tears for Fears? Nineties fashion is hideous, but can it be rocked the way hideous eighties fashion can? 

These women know how crazy they are.

These women think they are normal. 

Further evidence:

Molly Ringwald looks great, and almost elegant! And young!

Candace Cameron, on the other hand, looks sad and old. 

Something that's really significant about the nineties is that the way we see it today is very much characterized by nostalgia--not any sort of longing nostalgia, just a sort of reflective, laughing nostalgia at how ridiculous we were. How ridiculous we just were, less than twenty years ago.

Before I make my next point, let's not rule out that perhaps there is nostalgia for many decades like this, that I can't relate to because I wasn't there. I do desperately wish that I were alive in the eighties, or the fifties, or the twenties...but I can't feel it like I can with the nineties.

Even so! It seems like we have a lot of nostalgia for the nineties, and not a lot else. The reason there is so much nostalgia, and it is so plentiful, is because we didn't actually take anything from the decade. Sitcoms have been drastically changed since then, children's television isn't anywhere near as good, we moved away from the terrible fashion as much as possible, pop has changed entirely. The only thing we really got from the nineties is...

Oh, right. That.

My friends, hipsters came from the nineties.

You know this. I know this. Fred Armisen knows this. For all the Lisa Frank, for all the cheesy, cheesy movies and fluffy rap, all the good natured, value preachin' sitcoms, we took the sad music and strange clothing from Seattle. 

I mean no disrespect to grunge, don't get me wrong. I love grunge, I really do. And I'm sure Seattle is great. 

Let's break it down a bit.

Grunge came about as a reaction to a lot of bad things that were going on in the 90's. Current events of the decade are marked by domestic bombings and civil war--Columbine, the Oklahoma City Boming, the Rwandan Genocide all happened in the nineties. Our military attention switched from Soviet Russia to the Middle East, where we began fighting a culture that we understood even less. Politics are marred by sex scandals and economic problems, resulting in a mistrust of authority. So what does it say about our improvement as a society that the cultural reaction to these negative things is what endured into the millenium? Forget how obnoxious we may find hipsters to be, their cultural basis is sad, and that says some sad things about us.

QED, the nineties was a decade of cultural failure.

Sidney Prescott?

Writing about slasher movies and writing slasher movies again is like breathing again. I miss it so much.

That said, I've had some thoughts lately! Time for sharing!

They mostly revolve around this lady:

One Miss Sidney Prescott. I might venture to say, my favorite survivorgirl?

But here's what I'm thinking--judging (and I mean JUDGING) by the following things:

-All of her outfits in Scream 3
-Her perpetual singleness
-Her traumatic experience with men
-Her job in Scream 3 working as a councilor for women in crises over the phone,
-Her haircut,

So I'm thinking that perhaps, Sidney is being set up to be a lesbian.

Please don't misunderstand--I don't think all lesbians have short hair and wear sort of androgynous khaki pants (?) and are ultra-feminists, or fit any mold for that matter, but I know how movies work, and if there's a lesbian, it's likely that she's going to have some level of cliche to her, which Sidney certainly seems to. Perhaps it'll be a Dumbledore scenario, or perhaps it'll  be openly addressed in the next installment, whatever that is.

Maybe this is wishful thinking on my part--I think it would be a fantastic aspect to add to Scream 5 (please god, please please let this happen) or the reboot of the Scream franchise (It's too soon. Shut it down. Shut. it. down). Perhaps it's time to comment on the real seriousness of Sidney's loosing her virginity to a serial killer (and perhaps having her only sexual experience be with a serial killer, which is entirely possible with the rest of the plot,) and the fact that the world/God is beginning to accept homosexuality so it's no longer a "sin" that can be punished in a slasher movie situation.

Of course, this thought, along with some jokes about a script I'm working on with my BFF, led me to think about lesbianism in slasher movies in general. has it ever been addressed in a popular movie?

The only instance I could think of in my viewing experience is the lesbians in Stupid Teenagers Must Die.


Let's talk about Stupid Teenagers for a second. It's thought of as a decent parody of bad slasher movies, with "all the normal stereotypes!" This is the movie that originally inspired me and my aforementioned BFF to write slasher movies. The rest is history.

Anyways, one of the stereotypes Stupid Teenagers throws in there is this pair of lesbians who are constantly having sex. Which is all well and good for them, being edgy, whatever--but lesbians are simply not a slasher movie stereotype, at least not from the pool of slasher films that I've been watching. From some very superficial internet research, it seems that the most common slasher film that contains lesbians is the misnomered horror porn, such as Zombie Strippers, etc. (disregarding a few films that are specifically lesbian horror films, such as Femme Fatal)These are different from slasher films. Very different. Really, I think they're based on the misconception of what horror films are.

This begs the question, of course, as to whether or not it would be relevant to address Sydney's apparent sexuality in another Scream film. Even though it isn't a hot button issue in the realm of slasher film, it is a hot button issue in the real world, and current events are addressed in the Scream films (technology and fame in Scream 4 for instance).

Thoughts? Rebuttals? 

Merry Christmas!

It would be wrong to write that Halloween post and then not do a Christmas post. So here we go!!

Guys, watch this trailer:

I'll give it a moment to sink in.


There's this trend with movies right now, where, when you hear the title or see the trailer, you realize immediately that it's going to be a fantastic film for one of two completely opposite reasons: it's either going to be legitimately epic, well done, thoughtful, and entertaining, or it's going to be so entirely off the handle ridiculous that it will still be thoroughly enjoyable to watch.


This movie...may have been both of those things?

Let's talk about it.

Ok, in case you didn't catch it from the trailer, the film is about finding a monstrous Santa Clause buried deep in a hill somewhere in Finland. This is that Christmastime horror that I was talking about before--already, the story is somewhat unorthodox. It is also a premise that leaves room for so, so much badassery.

The main characters, a group of working class Finnish men living in the Arctic, originally have no vested interest in the whole Santa scheme--they are, as you saw in the trailer, upset because something--or someone--has killed all of their reindeer, which they herd for meat and fur. It is only a group of Americans and one small child who are concerned with the Santa situation.

One of these people tops my list for 'Most Badass Characters of 2011'

It is only appropriate that a Christmas film focus on a child, which is where the main quirk in this film really comes through--even though it is a Christmas movie, it is also an action film, so the typical child main character of the Christmas aspect of the film somehow manages to also become a totally competent action hero.

For the first half of the film, nobody believes the boy, Pietari, that there is an evil Santa buried in the mountain--until, of course, a creature that appears to be Santa is found in one of the illegal wolf-traps set up by Pietari's father. It is only then that people begin to believe the child, and he leads three middle aged Finnish men into battle not only with their American opposition, but with a group of bloodthirsty elves and an enormous frozen goat monster. Throughout the film, the child completes various nearly superhuman feats and gives the men instructions one would only expect from the most experienced of action heroes.

Yeah, secretly a crazy action hero. Obviously.

This is only the very, very basic premise, however--and from that, as well as from the heavy handed one-liners in the trailer, you would have trouble believing that it managed to be a quality film as opposed to a ridiculous and over the top piece of cinema.

The part that doesn't fit into the basic premise, however, is what gives the film it's depth, and it's all very surprising. The strange, epic main plot is a vessel for two thoughtful and complex themes.

Pietari's mother died long before the story we see occurs, and much of the film shows us the struggle his father has being a single father and providing a warm and parental touch to the little family's life. It is simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking to see the gruff butcher try to provide for his child not only materially but emotionally, as well, particularly at Christmastime. This sub-plot revolves around the father only having gingerbread cookies for dinner for days on end--in theory, a child's dream, but a meal that ultimately is not practical or nourishing.

 And, as Pietari points out, in his adorable, tear-jerking way, they aren't as good as mother made them. Perhaps, however, this mano-y-mano relationship is what eventually allows Pietari to prove himself to his father, so that he is no longer treated like such a small child.

The other sub plot is only hinted at, because the film is mainly from the point of view of a small child. In a To Kill a Mockingbird-esque way, social and political turmoil is hinted at when the reindeer are killed, and when the men notice something strange happening on the mountain that is eventually revealed as Santa's tomb. The adults are constantly discussing the potential that Russian agents had killed their reindeer, or were working on some secret project on the mountain. Though it is never clearly explained in the film, there is a very complex undertone of the Finnish-Russian political relationship, which, as far as I can tell from the internet, is mainly stressed by border control issues, which are the focus in this film.

So, this Christmas, when you're debating between Santa Clause is Coming to Town and It's a Wonderful Life, make the unorthodox choice--pop in Rare Exports for a surprising, action-packed, touching and thoughtful holiday movie. Think of this movie as your Aunt Jill's pumpkin pie--you were really looking forward to the iconic sugar cookies and the decadent eggnog, but in the end it's the pie you go back for seconds on.

...or, you know, don't think of it that way. Maybe it's best that you don't.

Happy Holidays, everyone!! 



Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale is owned by CINET and Petri Jokiranta, copyright 2010. 

Chinatown, Roman Polanski, Noir, and a discussion of ART.

Guys, I have been a Noir fiend lately.

I keep going back to watch a slasher movie, but something else on my Instant Queue always catches my eye instead--Scarlet Street, The Third Man, The Stranger, Double Indemnity, the list goes on and on. Noir is like the slasher films of the forties and fifties. Low budget, not necessarily respected in its time, very, very genre-riffic (I just made up that word,)...all fantastic. Perhaps I will blog about the similarities and the importance of low budget movies sometime in the future.

Today, however, I'm going to write a bit about Chinatown, because I decided that I'd watched enough Noir that I'd understand it.

And I think, as much as one ever can understand Chinatown after watching it only once, I do.

Spoiler time.

A little summary for you--as far as I understand, Chinatown is a modern-noir, which is now almost forty years old, but that's fine. It's not shot in black and white, which is very important to the genre, as far as I can tell, but you've got the hard-boiled private eye with all his catchy lines, a Los Angeles that I fully believed was in the forties, the gorgeous, GORGEOUS femme fatale (Faye Dunaway ohmygoodness) and a murder for everyone to get tangled up in.

The standard plot was set up and followed very well, with various surprises around every turn. I suppose the trick to noir is that you have to know the surprises are coming, but you can't know what they are--right? Perhaps?

In any case, that's how this movie worked, and it was thoroughly enjoyable. There was also a big discussion about government corruption and capitalism which I was really invested in, but don't feel any need to get into here. The various societal commentary, the biblical allusions, the structure of Chinatown has been discussed plenty, and unless you're my film studies professor, we aren't going to get anywhere by me repeating all of it.

The thing about Chinatown that hasn't been discussed is the fact that it deals very directly with pedophilia and was directed by Roman Polanski.

This is something I've been trying to grapple with--when an artist has created something brilliant, but done something that our society considers evil, how much are we to separate the artist from his art? On one hand, we want to appreciate the art without it being colored by our perception of the artist, and examine its merits and its impact objectively. However, we also want to maybe see how the artist's moral ambiguities affected his work, and even just give an artist credit for something beautiful they've created regardless how much we disagree with their other actions or even the message they are sending in the work.

I addressed this issue in a play I wrote this year for a class in which D.W Griffiths was a character.  D.W Griffiths made the film Birth of a Nation, the first American feature-length film, which naturally had a huge impact on the ways films were made and distributed. Also, it was super racist and about the KKK.

And, unfortunately, except in very film-savvy circles, that's what he's remembered for, which is a shame, because he made plenty of other movies. Another, more common example in film is Walt Disney--made great movies, changed the way we see animation and television and mice, also was a Nazi.

Do we accept the fact that these brilliant men had flaws, and appreciate their work regardless? Or do we pretend that they didn't have those flaws at all? It's a difficult conundrum, especially when they directly address their asocietal (made up that word tooo) morals in their work, the way Griffiths did with Birth of a Nation or Disney did with Song of the South.


For those of you who don't know, Roman Polanski is largely considered to be a pedophile--in 1977, three years after Chinatown was made, he was arrested for unlawful sex with a thirteen year old girl, plead guilty, and fled to London. In Chinatown, it is revealed near the end of the film that Faye Dunaway's character was raped by her father at fifteen, which becomes a major plot point in the film.

It's fascinating to me that no one has discussed the similarities about this aspect of the film and how they connect to Roman Polanski's sex scandal in the seventies; the girl in the movie was in her early teens, raped by an older man after his wife died. Polanski's victim too was just a teenager, and his wife was killed in 1969.

However, the director is much more associated with the main character than with the character of the father--the background of Jack Nicholson's detective is that he failed to save a woman in his previous career in Chinatown and as a result, she was killed, and he became rather despondent and apathetic. This lines up fairly well with Polanski, who cites not being at home the night his wife was murdered as his biggest regret and says that it left him pessimistic and with "eternal dissatisfaction about life."

Perhaps it is out of respect for Polanski and the film that nobody has made this connection, which would be, in my opinion, the best way to deal with the situation. The crime he committed was a mistake, and the worst of his character, while this is one of the most brilliant things he created, if not the most brilliant. Hopefully, years from now, it will be looked upon as such, and hopefully someday we can look at other artists' work the same way.

Happy Halloween! Here is a rant for you.

It is, of course, necessary that I write a blog for Halloween.
Clearly I've been neglecting my ponderings on  horror films lately, at least in a formal written out form. Worry not, friends, there is no shortage of heated debates about slasher lore and, now, the local ghost stories here at college. And I know, that, since it is Halloween, I can no longer ignore this blog that was once so well nurtured.

Normally I would write a review of a horror movie, or a general overview of some Halloween movies, or a rant about fake scary movies that they play on ABC family, but I'm going in a different direction.

It doesn't make sense for me right now to review one of the approximate BILLION scary  movies that are on my list of things to watch, because the majority of them are themed with other holidays; specifically, the next movie on my list is Rare Exports, a Christmas-themed thriller, and the next is April Fools, a terrible, terrible slasher. My Netflix Instant Cue opens with New Years Evil and Graduation Day, and, before on the nonsense with Netflix, those two were quickly followed by My Bloody Valentine. Even right here on this blog I've reviewed Black Christmas and Terror Train, both of which take place in the end of December.


There are a whole slew of slasher films that take place on other holidays, specifically Christmas. And, as you probably figured out, there is a lot of controversy over these films. In fact, you may have found even yourself feeling a little bit uncomfortable with the idea of mixing the gory death of teenagers that we love so much on Halloween with the happiness and coziness of Christmas.

A little background: Halloween is considered by many to be "The Father of Slasher Movies." It was wildly successful, making $60,000,000 in about two years with a budget of $320,000. Obviously, great formula: spend relatively little money, make a lot more money, and make a great film. America at the time was ready for it, and, thus, an innumerable amount of movies were made.

The concept was so simple that hundreds (?) of eager indie film makers jumped on the opportunity. Just get yourself a fake knife, some corn syrup and food dye, some cheap, hopeful, young actors, a creepy place, and you've got yourself a film (I know, I've done it). All you need now is a plot, or a theme of some sort--and, riding on the success of Halloween, many manymanymany of the people making these movies decided on a holiday.

Christmas is maybe not the most obvious of all the holidays to choose for a movie whose action is based around the murder of "innocents," but for some reason it became very popular. Movies like Silent Night, Deadly Night, Don't Open till Christmas, Christmas Evil and Silent Night, Bloody Night didn't seem to do any better or worse than other films. Perhaps because the movie that I consider to be the "Mother" of slasher films, and just as good as Halloween, also played a part in the beginning of slasher movies. Perhaps, we can take the cynical view, and say that the producers, directors, and writers were trying to cash in on the controversy that came from making these films, which were often considered a direct assault on family structure and Christianity (don't forget about the New Right shenanigans that were happening in the eighties). Perhaps there are enough angsty people who just need to watch a slasher movie at Christmas to dispel the anger that comes from spending time with laughing children and consumerism. Maybe--and let's go with this one, for the hell of it--the juxtaposition of the violence inherent to slasher films mixed with the happiness that is considered to be inherent to Christmas creates a more shocking and therefore effective film.

The real question is, why are people so accepting for a violent movie on Halloween and so ready to scorn a movie that takes place on Christmas? Christmas Evil, made in 1984, which directly references Carpenter's film in the tagline ("You made it through Halloween, now see if you can survive Christmas"), made approximately two million dollars, with a budget of about one million, in comparison to Halloween's sixty million dollars worldwide. I'm not going to pretend that Halloween isn't a much, much better movie than Christmas Evil, or that the shock value was already wearing off at that point, but still. Fifty eight million dollars is a lot of money.

I think it's an interesting cultural phenomena that we sequester a time of year to be scared, or, rather, to let ourselves be scared. Clearly this intentional fear is part of our culture--scary movies make millions of dollars all year round, not just at Halloween. Would it be better to accept it into our every day lives, like the many hardcore horror movie enthusiasts and self-proclaimed members of the goth subculture that already do? Or, is Halloween, like horror movies, a safe place to keep it so we can live our lives pretending that death and fear are not present?

This has been a Halloween blog post.

A Treatise on Harry Potter

I was five years old when I read the first Harry Potter book, and to this day I picture Hogwarts as the house in which it was read to me; the house belonged to my friend, and it was a significant part of my childhood. It was an amazing house, and reading The Sorcerer's Stone in her yellow-painted bedroom of the three-story, renovated barn is one of the many happy memories I have from the house.

For a long time every book release was quite a bonding experience for her and her mother and my mother and I. When she grew out of it, it became an event that some other close family friends of ours and my brother and I did together, and it was the only time we'd get together. Book, and later movie releases, were bright spots in my mundane summers, where I could have an excuse to sit down and read for a week straight then reunite with childhood friends and stay up late talking and reading and analyzing every aspect of the series.

I was, for sure, as obsessed as anyone--and it's easy to see why. Harry Potter defined much of my childhood, and even to this day, as an "adult" to some degree, who can recognize the literary and filmic downfalls of the franchise, I cried when Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two in Imax 3D closed with a three-shot of Ron, Hermione, and Harry. For me, and for thousands of other people in my generation, Harry Potter has been a constant--as, for the class of 2011, who started Kindergarten the year the first book was released and who just graduated, has been school. The painfully obvious tagline--"It all ends Summer 2011--" poetically punctuates not only the end of a series I have grown up with, but the end of my time living in the little town where I was born and going to school with the same group of people.

Regardless of my emotional connections to the story, I wasn't as psyched about this release as other people were, and until I was actually sitting in the enormous IMAX theater, after having waited in line for an hour when I could have been home doing something productive, I didn't care to see the film at all--in fact, I never saw Deathly Hallows Part One. People have been going on and on about how a huge chunk of their childhood is ending, about how a little part of them died, about how it is, in fact, all over, and how much of an effect that is going to have on their lives.

For me, that feeling has long passed. While a lot of people--especially those a little bit younger (current sophomores, my brother's age,) who were five when the first movie came out--have grown up with the films as much as with the books, if not more, definitely see the movies as entirely a part of Harry Potter, I still can't.  I felt the way so many people are feeling now when we got the seventh book at midnight, and when I closed the back cover at one in the afternoon the next day. Equally poetically, it was the summer before I began high school--in a parallel to the story, I was ready to move on.

Of course, not many other people were--HP continued to define our generation, most clearly shown in a pep rally skit performed by my class, the theme of which was, of course, Harry Potter. I saw the sixth movie at midnight, and I, like everyone else, still find the best way to explain many things is to use Harry Potter analogies. ("you know, he said it like...like Ron says to Hermione in the sixth book," or, "Maybe the little boy at the end of Turn of the Screw wasn't killed, it was just a Harry Potter kinda thing," or, "The only parallel to the rise of Hitler is Voldemort.") All in all, though, the franchise and the fandom became sort of a nuisance to me. I have things to do. I am a grown up lady and I won't bother myself anymore with this nonsense.

Not true, of course. But my cynicism of all things enjoyed by the masses has led me to be a lot more critical of the series, and, in turn, the movies.

Part of the brilliance of Harry Potter  is that, for my generation, the books aged with us perfectly. The Sorcerer's Stone is like a gateway book to a lifetime of reading for so many young kids, and The Deathly Hallows is a dark, dramatic, and complicated fantasy. This brilliance also becomes a bit of a downfall for the series, and especially for the poor characters. There's a massive disconnect that comes in the end of the fourth book. The first three stories are whimsical, spooky, and fantastic for children. There's a clear good vs. evil, the plot follows a formulaic, episodic model that's already familiar to the audience (summer, school, Halloween, Christmas, Spring sports, finals, and so on.)

By the end of the fourth book, I was eight, and kind of ready for the shock of an almost main character getting killed by the big bad guy. By the fifth, I was ten, and, even though it was traumatic, almost ready for the angst and death that marks Order of the Phoenix. Almost. What had been a fun and whimsical tale set in a fun and whimsical location was suddenly a story of political intrigue, of abandoned houses and prophecies and such, but still sprinkled with fun and whimsical things like pixies and bogarts and the like. Harry's frustrating and inexplicable angst was somewhat incongruent with the stories we knew.

The sixth book continued with the drama, but at least still at Hogwarts, to some degree; the seventh book could be part of a completely different series. There are two ways to look at this: one, the audience got to old for the fun and whimsy, the universe got so big that there had to be an epic fantasy/war book in order to get things wrapped up, and Rowling wrote the book long after the directors of the films had switched from the lighthearted Christopher Columbus to much darker directors and was being influenced by the style somewhat. This is one of many criticisms, and opens up a discussion about the simplicity of the plot and characters and the simplistic, unchallenging writing, the dependence on a franchise and strong fanbase, and the lack of vitality that the story has.

Alternatively, one can look at the entirety of Harry Potter as following a similar pattern--if with a more Disney ending--as Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart, or Greek Tragedies, or Film Noir--because, by the seventh book/movie, the entire world of the three main characters has completely crumbled. As in Things Fall Apart, the majority of the first part of the story is marked by episodic plots controlled by specific dates, dotted with dramatic adventures that make the characters grow some, but in the end, it is an outside force that the characters feel they need to singlehandedly defeat that entirely destroys their way of life.

This is an emotional moment for those of us who are emotionally attached to Harry&company. It mimics our own realization that the world is not necessarily all whimsy and fun, and somethings things to fall apart entirely. Ultimately, the whimsical, wizarding setting of the series is incidental; the stories are about death, what happens after death, dealing with the after life and with mourning; it is about a group of non-muggles who are still mortals, who cannot beat death even though they have infinite luxuries of magic and such. This is philosophically somewhat simplistic, but it hits home for the audience of adolescence who, developmentally, are realizing the idea of mortality themselves. Not only that, but it emphasizes the fleeting nature of adolescense and school; no matter how dramatic it may be, you may only be one white page labeled "epilogue" or one black screen titled "19 years later" away from a pleasant adulthood. Harry's life reflects our own in many ways, and while he says the well acted line that so easily could have been cheesey, to Voldemort, "Let's finish this the way we started it--together!" he says to us, the crazy high schoolers who so many times have banged our heads against a keyboard in sincere imiation of his puppet self, chanting "angst, angst, angst, " who grew up with JK Rowling and Harry&Co fixing our problems:"Let's finish this, the nonsense battle with the world that is puberty and public education, the way we started it way back on the first day of first grade--together!

Overall, the movie itself greatly exceeded my fairly low expectations. IMAX 3D was much more impressive than I expected, and I can now see it as being a tool for innovation in cinematography rather than a novelty tech toy. The combination of light and dark  and long and close-up shots was much better and more balanced than the usual (dark field. dark castle. black dragon. Emma watson. Field. Dragon. Castle. Emma. More Emma. Some castle. Field. Castle. Emma.) They didn't dwell too long on many things, the movie didn't feel drawn out as some of the others in the series do. Helena Bonham Carter had to act like Hermione, which was brilliant. The battle scenes and the epilogue, were, dare I say it, better for me in film form than in the book--again, possibly because Rowling had the films in mind when she wrote the seventh book (all the unecessary description in the epilogue does make it read somewhat like  a script.) The casting for the whole franchise is quite brilliant. I really enjoyed the whole audience clapping when Ron and Hermione kissed, and when Molly Weasley yells, "Not my daughter, you bitch!" I wasn't  even too bothered by the fact that Daniel Radcliffe is 22 and not 17, and that Harry Potter is the most pretentious character in modern film.

Actually, Harry Potter's pretentiousness did bother me, some. I suppose that's something that also plays to teenagers developmental tendency to be as egocentric as a four year old--three characters, your age, who probably fill enough types that you can relate to at least one of them, who are literally the center of the universe. The movies, especially, are very Harry-centric. Fair enough, he is the eponymous character, and, again, the center of the whole wizarding world. But still, there are some scenes--such as snapping the elder wand in half and throwing it into the lake as his average friends stare in disgust--where his haughtiness is just overwhelming. My favorite part of the movie may very well have been when Neville stepped in after Voldemort had allegedly killed Harry and said something along the lines of, "The forces of good don't simply cease to exist because Harry Potter is dead, you guys..." and everyone was like "wait, what....oh yeah! Stuff happened here before the kid was born too!" (Even though, to be honest, as soon as Voldemort said, "I've killed Harry Potter!" I really wanted  Radcliffe to just stand up and yell something like "Think again, bitch! Avada Kadavera!" [or, Voldemort style, ahhvahdah kadahhha!"])

 In my opinion, the most interesting part of the series is the backstory of Voldemort--again, and seriously, it is very close to the rise of Hitler, and feels similar to study--how is it that these villians that we hold in this special, "he who must not be named" spot, in reality or literature, come to be as evil and as powerful as they are? I'd like to see a film directed more around Tom Riddle, personally. I did love in the seventh movie when Harry called Voldemort Tom to his face...that was quite the scene.

The hype is still a little much for me, but again, I do have an emotional attachment. I'm glad that, in the future, even though I won't be able to say I saw any classic bands playing live, I will be able to say that I saw Harry Potter in theaters when it first came out,and got the seventh book at midnight, and lived through a phase of fandom that was, at the time, rivaled only by Elvis and The Beatles.  And I did cry during the film, not only at seeing Ron cry over his brother's body or at the first shot of Dobby's grave, but also when Olivander echoed his line from the first story, "The wand chooses the wizard," and whenever the main theme came in, and in the last shot of the three friends holding hands.

In an emotion that, again, poetically mimics that of Harry himself as he walks into the forbidden forest, I realized walking out of the gluttonous theater that while I am sad, I am ready for this part of mys life to be over--but I also know that it will not be. Literature and film are written about in the present tense, so any day that I want to relive a sleepover in my best friends bedroom in her old house, or the night I stayed up all night with an old pal finishing the series, I can pick up one of the easiest books to read, and Dumbledore and Dobby and Voldemort will still be alive, it will still be up in the air whether Hermione ends up with Ron or Harry, and the terrible epilogue will not yet have occured.

Also, does anybody really believe that WB and JK Rowling are going to stop sitting on that comfy pile of ever-growing cash created by the franchise? I think not.

Possession: the most fun a religious person can have...?

Today I am feeling POSSESSED to blog about religious horror films. Screw carpal tunnel and my missing wrist brace and my refusal to get tested for arthritis...I've got stuff to say.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of watching a fantastic religious horror film, Stigmata, directed by Rupert Wainwright. For those of you who aren't weirdly into religion (by which I mean, fascinated by religion in a nerdy way, not in a evangelical way,) stigmata is the name of the phenomenon where a deeply faithful person suddenly erupts in all of the wounds of Jesus.

Like, as a reward...from Jesus..because he loves you so much...

Like any good religious horror flick, the plot of this movie deals with the constant battle between faith and science, and it does it quite effectively. Our main man is a organic chemist-turned-priest who goes around the world trying to assign scientific explanations for miracles. Of course, being stigmatic is a miracle (fun stuff?) so he ends up going to our main lady, Frankie...(?) and trying to scientifically explain her random flesh wounds. Of course, Frankie isn't faithful at all, but in fact a self proclaimed atheist...plot ensues.

It appears that this movie was clearly made by folks who believe in God--the message seems to be that faith (even spirituality, dare I say it?) is an important part of life, whether or not it is necessarily, scientifically true.

Fascinatingly! While this movie certainly has its Gody message to give to us, it's main idea is that the organized church is, for the most part, an ineffective and corrupt vessel for Godliness and faith to be brought to humans. Woah! My mind was blown by the fact that this movie was aware of that. On the one hand, we have Frankie, as a pretty moral-lacking, uneducated twenty something in Pittsburg, clearly in need of some direction in her life (at least, it's portrayed that way...lots of partying, etc. The movie is actually complex enough to portray that her lifestyle choice is her own and that it's wrong to judge, but still have the implication that it's not fantastic.) On the other hand, we have the church repressing history and real religious texts in order to stay in power and get what they want, as well as a criticism of fanatical, literal Christianity--the idea of "Jesus on toast," etc, is taken down pretty early on in the film with organic-chemist/priests scientific explanations.

The other thing I found interesting was how similar the symptoms are when you're possessed by the devil as opposed to possessed by Jesus. Frankie speaks in tongues, has little conniptions, moves around in terrifying ways, adopts a predatory male voice, etc....all of those lovely things we saw in the Exorcist.

Pretty similar....

We've got the eyes rolling back...

The weird flying thing...the list could go on if I felt like taking more screen shots. 

I was quite intrigued by this--how could it be the same thing, essentially, to be possessed by two completely opposite things?

Of course--(we've been talking about binarisms in English class...get ready for some rantin'), I know that Jesus and the devil are not opposite things. One cannot exist without the other, and Jesus had to do some pretty devilish things before he figured out how to be...well, Jesus.

Another very un-Jesus like thing that Frankie does while possessed is to try her (his?) very hardest to seduce a priest...

Come on now, lets not do this...God will strike you down...!

Movie actually does a very clever job of explaining this, as well as the demon/Jesus possession similarities, by saying that people who are close enough to Jesus to experience stigmata are also closer and more open to demons and temptations gettin' in there and infecting their souls and stuff. Is that true, in religious lore? Who knows. But Movie says it is.

God will still strike you down and eat your face off!!

The movie pays some well-deserved homage to the real, historical Jesus, because about halfway through the film it is discovered that the tongues Frankie was speaking in and the words she wrote on the wall were the same words that were in a secret Gospel, that was thought to be the "secret sayings" of Legit Jesus.

Legit Jesus? 

Allegedly, the papacy says that these scrolls are heresy, further blocking out "real" faith and "real" belief in Jesus and his words. The last twenty minutes or so of the movie actually focuses on this issue, and the conflict between the lower levels of the church (priests who are actually scientists and scholars) want to translate and be aware of these words, and the upper levels want to keep them as confidential as possible. If you have crazy possessed young adults running around and writing them on stuff, that's hard to do.

The movie then ends with a little description of what went down with the actual scrolls, which I described before, which is interesting, but also adds a weird tone of propaganda to the whole film. I, personally, hate religious propaganda, so at first I was a bit turned off by this, but since it's propaganda for historical research and against the church, I felt better about it. 

Also, it would probably be worth it anyways, because this movie has some fantastic 90's style surrealism. Very impressive cinematography...a lot of lights and darks, some cool special effects, etc. It depends a lot on close-ups to emphasize thematic elements and to set the mood, which makes it seem a little dizzying (appropriate, since Frankie is having seizures pretty much constantly in the movie,) and trippy. Very 90's, but actually in a good way. 

High recommend this movie for your vacation viewing experience, or for anytime you feel like getting a little bit of church-bashing in to your day...add The Exorcist, The Omen, or Rosemary's Baby for extra fun!

Seriously, though, if Jesus actually looked like Christian Bale then I'd probably convert to Christianity right now. 

[Stigmata is owned by MGM, The Exorcist is owned by WB, and Mary, Mother of Jesus is owned by Hallmark.]

A little bit of cannibalism in pop culture!

So lately, both against and of my free will, I've been listening to the song "Cannibal" by Ke$ha.

I'm not a huge fan of autotuned pop, but I like Ke$ha.Her music is catchy and she's kinda adorable.

To be fair, I kind of despise the way she's marketed--hearing children singing "I brush my teeth with a bottle of jack," is disgusting. But I do respect her motivation, even though I don't always respect the outcome--like a  few other pop singers right now (Katy Perry and Lady Gaga, who, I must say, are my top two in this new trifecta of hot pop singers trying to be edgy, and whom I think are much more successful in their edginess,) she is trying really hard to break boundaries, push the envelope. To make inappropriate things appropriate. And I love that. I also love about these new edgy pop stars is that, for the most part, they know how ridiculous they are--though perhaps Ke$ha the least of the three--and therefore, are somewhat satirical. Especially Lady Gaga.

Regardless, this girls music is painfully catchy, and I can't help but enjoy it. And, like I said, she is young and cute and creative. Were I a pop star, I'd probably be Ke$ha.

That's a huge lie. I'd be Ke$ha, but I'd wear less make up and sing about knitting, ice cream, and stage managing instead of drinking, partying, and being a prostitute.

Because rehearsal-don't-start-till-I-walk-in

Also, I'd like to think I'd be Katy Perry, but that's very wishful thinking.

In any case, I think Ke$ha wrote this song to be edgy. What's more taboo than cannibalism? She even goes so far as to obliquely reference Hannibal Lector, (I want your liver on a platter...maybe?) and then even farther, referencing Jeffrey Dahmer. Are we over that yet, as a country? I'm not sure. To add to the edginess, she also refers to herself as a stalker, and says she drinks tea. Which isn't very trendy or alcoholic. 

But I am here to say, dear Ke$ha, that though you think you're being edgy, you are not alone in writing songs about cannibals. You, in fact, are just the most recent in a long tradition of writing songs about cannibals. 

And believe me...I listen to a lot of music about cannibalism. Here I am to share it with all of you. 

First, Voltaire--

Then there is, of course, a bit of Jonathan Coulton...this one is more about Zombies, but still...humans eating humans 

And Creature Feature...

(the kid who made this would be my friend if I knew him, I think)

Here's one by the lovely Tom Lehrer....a love song, no less! 

We, of course, can't forget this:

And this may be my personal favorite. (Ok. The previous video is really  my favorite but I love this one too.) This is Toto Coelo:

And with that, we are back to analysis of trashy pop! I don't really understand Toto Coelo, as much as I love them, but I have to think they were going for something along the lines of what Ke$ha is going for--catchy music about horrifying things, that will make her stand out. This song was the band's only hit, (besides Dracula's Tango) and it's probably because people thought it was so..well, funny. The music video is sexual, but in a kind of hilarious way. It's so over the top taboo that you can't help but find it laughable. 

And I suppose that is what Ke$ha is going for as well--but honey, these amazing old ladies beat you to it. 

But keep up the good work. 

When did this become a blog entirely about babies?: A Lifetime Movie Review and Analysis

I'm sorry guys. This is getting ridiculous.

Apparently I'm horrified of babies, because I keep watching movies about them.

With that being said, I have a confession to make: I am currently watching a Lifetime movie called The Pregnancy Pact.


And with that being said, I'm actually really impressed.

During the summer, I regularly watch The Secret Life of the American Teenager, and it is ridiculous. I won't get into it right now, except to say that it's incredibly unrealistic, god-pushing, and badly done, right from the 2 million some-odd dollar houses in Southern California that middle class families live in, to the church that saves the day when the girl can't pay to take care of her kid, to the fact that somebody gets pregnant every season, to the bad product placement. Going into this movie, I was expecting sort of the same thing.

Use this product. Then do something with you're life, stupid lazy slut!

I am being pleasantly surprised. Mostly because the movie is 50% about teenage pregnancy and peer pressure, and 50% about how we can be affected by media, particularly how small towns can be affected by media, which is one of my pet...issues.

Considering it's Lifetime, a network I have very little respect for, they made some good artistic and plot choices. The emphasis in this movie is definitely is on the girls' delusion that it's a good thing to be pregnant, and that pregnancy as a teenager is, by default, a bad thing.

They made the choice to have the main character look like she's about ten years old, which is very, very significant. It makes it much more sad that she is going to have a baby, and it makes her naivety much more believable. Unfortunately, she acts about as well as I do, (she smiles constantly,) and her total lack of skill is pretty distracting.

Otherwise, though, they made mostly good decisions. The real main character is this crazy, wonderful journalist girl, who comes back from New York City to Gloucester (like down the road from me, and apparently just like my hometown but an island and more Catholic...) to find out whats going on with the bunches and bunches of teenaged girls who are getting pregnant. She is pro-choice, pro-contraceptives, and pro-truth, which is so refreshing in a program like this, especially since it's pretty clear that she is the good guy.

Which opinion is correct, though, is a little ambiguous--or, at the very least, there's wiggle room. Main pregnant girls' mom is head of the abstinence committee (three double letters in that word! woah!) in the town, and she is strongly opposed to the school nurse's idea to hand out contraceptives in school because of that whole, inviting-kids-to-have-sex or whatever argument, and she very much believes in abstinence before marriage. The nurse argues that the kids are having sex regardless, and nearly dozens of girls are getting pregnant. The (principal? vice principal? I forget,) argues that the girls want to get pregnant so contraceptives don't help.

And thats where the media, and the plot, comes in. The journalist is in town to find out what is going on, and it turns out (spoiler alert!) that the girls decided to make a pact to get pregnant on purpose after one of their friends did by accident. The motivation is the usual: "babies are cute! our babies can play together! babies are beautiful and certainly don't poop and throw up on everything! Gloucester (that's pronounced glow-ster for all the Russian and Canadian readers out there,) is utopia and we can just stay here and be moms and be happy forever!"

There are a few results of this--one, the media freaks out. In small towns, the media is a horrifying, horrifying thing. Because I live in one, one where a few newsworthy things have happened in the past few years, I have seen this firsthand--things get blown out of proportion. People are hurt because everybody knows everybody else, and even though that kid did something wrong, he's your librarian's son and the strangers on the news just can't talk about that. Rumors get spread. People get run out of town because of small crimes that didn't necessarily happen. It's rough stuff.

In this movie, once Time gets a hold of the story that there is a pact, every media team in Massachusetts goes to Gloucester to figure out what is going on and generally just be gossip-column story hungry. The battle between the townsfolk and the media gets more and more heated, to the point where the main pregnant girls father and boyfriend actually get into a physical fight with a news anchor and his crew. The entire town ends up in conflict over these girls, with the mayor blaming the principal, the abstinence committee turning against their president, the families of the fathers turning against the families of the mothers. The media becomes a grotesque monster (which they could have showed more artistically, but I get what they're going for,) with a voice from one mob attacking the pregnant girls yelling "can I at least get footage of her stomach?" and the girl in question following it by saying, "Now I know what it feels like to be Jamie Lynn Spears!"

Wooaahh. It's at that point, I think, that it really hits home that the movie is not only about how the media can feed off other people's misery, but how we feed off it in turn. Really, the whole reason that the girls are so eager to be pregnant is, besides peer pressure, the depiction of motherhood and babies in the media and in our cultural ideal. The conflict between the main girl and her boyfriend centers around the fact that he wants to marry her, but in California, after they go to college, and all she wants is to stay in Glowster and marry him now and have kids, and be a stay at home mom forever and be happy, which is a slightly hyperbolic but also true reflection of the sort of expectation that there is of what it means to be happy--not career, not adventure, but motherhood and love.

Not to mention the way teen pregnancy is normally depicted in the media--I'm looking at you 16 and Pregnant, Teen Mom, Secret Life of the American Teenager, and even Juno. And Twlight. Getting married at eighteen doesn't make getting pregnant at eighteen not subject to the normal issues of teen pregnancy. And Bristol Palin and Jamie Lynn Spears. A big issue presented in the film is that the girls don't know what is going to, realistically, happen to the once they have the babies--they don't know how much going through labor sucks, and are very surprised when the first girl to give birth does so to a premature baby the size of a newborn Panda and gets violently injured in the process, and then has implied post partum depression. The main girls' boyfriend leaves her because she's crazy and intentionally got pregnant and ruined his life. All the babies, in the off-screen future, probably have fetal alcohol syndrome because all the girls went to a crazy party and got extremely drunk. (So much more realistic than Secret Life! Yay Lifetime!)
 There is no "oo dressing up in matching outfits!"

They didn't do a terribly fantastic job wrapping up the movie, just like I'm not doing a terribly fantastic job wrapping up this nonsense blog post. The moral ends up being that teen pregnancy is complicated and personal and there's no one right way to deal with it, and all options are viable. (There are no abortions, but it's implied that they're acceptable early on.) Unfortunately, cool journalist from the city basically says, "I have learned that teen pregnancy is complicated and there's no one right way to deal with it," so even though I think the moral is a good one, they're still pushing it on us pretty hard and not veiling it in any way.

Even though I liked this movie, I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to anyone, unless you're particularly interested in studying how the media deals with small-town scandals and teen pregnancy. Or you're really into Lifetime movies, in which case you've probably all ready seen this. It's a watchable film, and there's a lot more going on than I expected--a lot of latent content. But that doesn't mean you should run to onDemand right now and watch it.

Oh, and apparently today is the ...38th (?) anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision. Yay babies!

I promise soon I'll write a real review of a real movie. American Psycho or Black Swan. It'll be fun stuff. I promise.

  

Moar babies, chick flicks, and cannibalism

I am a bad, bad child. The very last thing in the world I should be doing right now is blogging. I have a paper to write for Friday, scales to practice for tomorrow, laundry to do, and on top of everything my wrists have been bothering me so much that I haven't been able to type for two days.

But there is much to discuss. We make sacrifices.

I just finished watching Grace, a movie that came out a little while ago (2009,) when I frequented bloodydisgusting.com, and there was quite a bit of hype in the horror community about it, if I remember correctly. It's been in my instant queue for a long time, but I just got up the courage to watch it today.

I highly, highly recommend this movie. Unless you are a male. Or know any males. Or have a baby. Or know anyone that has a baby or lost a baby or you were a baby yourself once.

Of course, that sounds like I don't watch anyone to watch this movie, I suppose, but that isn't what I mean. It really is a brilliant film, but it is a chick flick. An extreme chick flick. If you're driving on the road of chick flicks, drive past The Notebook and When Harry Met Sally, take a left at The Devil Wears Prada and then drive for a long time, past Ms. 45 and I Spit on your Grave, then maybe you would get to this movie.

I say "chick flick," meaning that this movie literally is almost entirely made up of females, and there is a lot of imagery in it that men, I'm sorry, are just not strong enough to handle. A lot of women probably aren't, either. There's a lot of menstrual symbolism, and a lot of very very nonsexy images of breasts, and a looot of babies.

The feminist message is very strong in this film, with a mother going to every extent to save her child. Even though the baby supposedly dies in utero at eight months, Madison, the heroine protagonist main character insists on carrying it full term and delivering it naturally. Luckily, the baby comes back to life when it is born (but it's dead for a long time, which is horrific and sad,) but isn't a normal baby--it has a thirst for human blood.

This baby wants some meat

Best. Baby. Ever.

The main themes in this movie are pretty intense, and pretty obvious. Madison, like I said, goes to extreme extents to keep her child well. Equally strong is the theme of white science vs. black magic, with white science being the masculine and black magic the feminine.

Carol Clover, one of my very favorite film theorists/professors of comparative Scandanavian literature (?) who wrote one of my favorite books ever, talks about this a lot. It's a very common or even unavoidable theme in possession films, and this movie borrows a lot from possession films. The influence of Rosemary's Baby is particularly evident, (as it should be in any movie with a demon infant,) particularly in the scenes where Madison decides its time to go buy some raw meat, and in the opening scene, where her husband makes passionate love to her while she just kinda lays there and stares at the ceiling.

Black magic, in possesion films, represents the "spiritual," earthy-crunchy superstitious voodoo priest, native American shaman, or, in this case, midwife that is the essence of all things feminine and natural, and is often on the side of the wife. Take, for instance, Poltergiest II, which I haven't seen but Carol Clover told me about. Or, if I'm remembering correctly, The Exorcist, where there is conflict between doctor and priest. Another one: The Serpent and the Rainbow. The closest example to my mind right now is actually from way way back, in Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors--when the main character's wife thinks he is crazy, she and her sister bring in Dr. Pinch, a crazy exorcist, to rid him of the spirits. The black magic team is often represented by a team of people against one man, the man of white science.

This movie, like Rosemary's baby, is a little different, and I really like that. We don't know in the end if we should be spiritual yoga vegans or high-class doctors.

Madison's veganism is heavily criticized, both by her husband, her mother in law, and the family doctor--the characters that represent white science. Spoiler alert--all of these characters die. We do get the feeling that Black Magic wins out here, because it is the midwife, Patricia, who ends up saving the day for the most part. However, even at the end of the movie it is implied that the reason the baby needs blood is that Madison's breastmilk is not sufficient due to the lack of meat.

"Black Magic" is also sort of played down here, or at least to be a good thing, besides the ambiguity of Madison's veganism. Patricia the midwife is made out to be very, very smart and down-to-earth, and suggests many times that Madison go to the hospital. Upsetting images of animal slaughter are played on the TV in the background of the kitchen (a little forced...) and much of the background music can only be described as if Enya worked with Bernard Herman or Wes Craven. Also, the fact that every representative and 2/3 of the males in the movie (there are three males in the movie,) die is a pretty strong indicator that women win. There's quite a bit of implied lesbianism too, but we shan't get into that this evening.

Here's the catch though, you guys--prepare to have your mind blown. I just found out that this movie was written and directed by a dude. A MAN. Whaat? I am so impressed with this guy. His name is Paul Solet, and his IMDB biography says that he majored in film and psychology at Emerson (<3!) and then got his masters in screenwriting. Then! Worked on some movies with his menor Eli Roth!! (<3<3swoon!!). This guy is either gay or has a seriously seriously strong stomach. Some of the images in this film are really really brutal, with a lot of bleeding from the breasts, and I honestly didn't think a guy would be able to handle it let alone direct it.

I'm scanning his bio more, and my point is proven. Look at this: "Since its (Grace's)premiere at Sundance 2009, where two men in the audience passed out from the intensity of the film..." 


Obviously this guys amazing, then, if he, as a man, could create feminine images so horrifying as to bring men to faint. It sort of goes back to Steven King and Carrie, (the book,) which really makes you wonder how a guy can put out a piece of literature that is so incredibly...well, girly. And girly in the sense that it's so girly girls probably can't stand to read or watch it. I was also thinking about this whole situation in light of American Psycho, (which I watched at 12:00 Monday morning--easily one of my top ten favorites.) With that movie, it's reversed--though a man wrote the book it was based off, two women directed it, which sort of nullifies all of those cries that it's one of the most misogynist movies of the last decade, in it's parody of men. However, Grace and Carrie (all right boys, good job on the stories but get some more creative titles pleaase,) were created by men but were not at all parodying women, but celebrating them, perhaps a bit in fear and respect of their awesome power to have babies and bleed all over stuff. 
Most slasher movies, though considered masculine and misogynist, are very feminist indeed, probably due to the rise of feminism that went along with the rise of film and later, horror. I'm going to start rambling very soon, so I'm cutting myself off on this topic for now. Go read Men, Women, and Chainsaws.

In closing, I'd like to share with you this article that I found the other day (on somebody else's blog--. It's very disturbing, but brings up some interesting questions. I think about cannibalism a lot, and obviously this movie deals with some sort of innate cannibalism that this baby girl has. So, with that--Is cannibalism innate?

I found that on a blog called "And Now The Screaming Starts."  No promises on the up there.

Ohwait.
Real conclusion to a movie review.

I loved this movie. The cinematography is artistic and amazing, (which I didn't get into,) the imagery is disturbing and powerful, the plot is fast-moving and suspenseful, the themes presented are thought provoking, I'm going to marry Paul Solet if he isn't gay.

Good movie. Netflix it up if you aren't too scared of bleeding girl parts and zombie babies.

Merry Christmas...

Babies.
For the last three weeks, this has been the topic of probably forty percent of all conversations. We talked about parenting during Frankenstein in English class, my ecology teacher is pregnant so everything in that class is about babies, we're learning developmental psychology in AP Psychology so that's all about infants, one of the documentaries we looked at in film studies was about gender in babies, a friend of a friend of a friend is pregnant so that friend has been talking about babies quite a bit, the human relations kids are carrying these little robot babies around, every sitcom i watch is about pregnancy somehow, and every night i take a pill to prevent the agony that comes from the workings of my body that someday could allow me to have a baby, god forbid.
So it's only appropriate that this movie i just watched was baby themed too.
Regardless of that, this is one of the best and most underrated slasher movies i have ever seen.

Black Christmas was released in 1974. Woah. I don't know if you understand what that means. While Halloween is credited as being the first "slasher," this one definitely deserves that title.
Don't get be wrong, i'm not hating on John Carpenter, I love Halloween, and it makes sense that it often gets credited with being the father of slasher movies, even down to it being the literal son of the unarguable grandfather of slasher movies, Psycho, the former having its main actress as the daughter of the latter's main actress. But this movie, Black Christmas, is much more related to the slasher movie as we think of it today, it came first, and it's...brilliant. Everybody should watch this movie, including non genre fans.

So the plot focuses on a group of sorority sisters and their brother fraternity (postmodernism ftw?), around christmas time, and they're getting all these weird phone calls from this guy who talks about all these weird, sexually perverted things. Nothing much going on, it's a sorority, sorority stuff happens. Most of the girls leave for Christmas vacation, and one of them gets killed by a totally unseen person.
To be honest, it wasn't until this point, (approx. ten minutes in) that i started paying attention, because this kill actually made me jump. I started watching this film as some festive background to my knitting and dress designing, but i quickly realized that it deserved a more thorough viewing.

Soon enough, we find out that survivor girl is British pregnant, the insanity of which i cannot even express. Keep in mind that there really hadn't been any formula slashers before this one, and besides this little problem, this movie kinda follows the formula (therefore setting it,) to a T. Even more insane than her being pregnant, she wants to get an abortion and doesn't want to marry the father. Sins on top of sins on top of sins! This girl is just full of sins and she's foreign! Kill her right away!

It becomes pretty clear pretty fast, however, that she's our main girl, and the movie, instead of focusing on the group or the killer like (i think) previous films had done, focuses mainly on her. The conflict becomes juxtaposed between the small town where they live looking for the first girl that died and the sorority dealing with the creepy phone calls, and Jess (survivorbritishgirl) negotiating her pregnancy with her angsty pianist boyfriend. As the latter conflict progresses, the former conflict gets closer and closer to it--the calls start seeming to come from/represent Jess's soon to be aborted fetus. And it's amazing. The whole movie has this outer conflict--the town looking for the first girl and trying to help a mother find her thirteen year old daughter, who is missing,--and the inner conflict, with Jess dealing with her potential motherhood/murder. It's just brilliant. The theme of parenthood and children run through the whole thing (am i crazy? have i just been reading too much Mary Shelley and learning too much about neonatal development?) There's this one really significant scene right when we're about to get to the battle where all these little children come caroling and Jess just looks at them all motherly and you can see the little hormones running around in her brain like "babies! look how nice they are!"
A really interesting thing is the babylike nature of the killer, and the killer in general. Mainly, the fact that we know nothing about him. We don't even ever see his face: just his hands and his eye. I suppose, in retrospect, that this is because (SPOILERS!) we're led to believe that Jess's boyfriend is the killer, which was a weirder part of the film.
When the killer (Billy/Agnes,) calls on the phone and when we hear him talk, it seems that he's got a bit of a Bates syndrome thing going on: He seems to speak for himself (who is a very childlike, innocent thing,) and for his mother, (more of a Grendel's mama deal,) who is the perverted violent killer, perhaps. It's never made very clear, but it's very creepy. This is all we see of him:

I paused this shot and just stared at it for probably a minute and a half.

Also, he makes the calls from the house mother's phone, which is pretty significant symbolism, if you ask me.
The movie has a lot of great symbolism, especially in the whole phallic weapon department, which is only appropriate considering it is a slasher movie. When promiscuous horrible drunk girl gets killed, it is in bed amongst flying blankets and hands reaching up and screaming and the like, and I'm pretty sure we're supposed to think that church lady, who is outside with her aforementioned choir of caroling children, thinks that someone is having sex in the house and therefore leads her children away hurriedly. We know that the fight is about to start when survivorgirl looks over and very significantly sees a nice stick like fire poker deal, which even gets its very own super close up.

Freud is so happy right now.

She then goes on to kill who she thinks is the killer, her boyfriend, the father of her baby, with the penis  firepoker. OHMYGOD. Did they mean to have this much symbolism? Normally i would say no, but i find myself having a lot of faith in this movie. And it's just to good to pass up. She kills her boyfriend, who "stabbed" her with his "firepoker," if you will, and got her pregnant, and who questioned her choice to get an abortion, the combination of which seems to be causing this whole thing. Brilliant. Amazing. Slasher Perfection.

So the big question now is, why isn't this the movie all of us slasher devotees worship instead of Halloween? Why has this movie been thrown into the chest of weird low budget movies based on holidays instead of given the love and praise it deserves? And why on earth do we let foreign pregnant sin girl live?

Well, really, it can be argued that we don't let foreign pregnant sin girl live, because this movie wasn't very well received and doesn't have the legacy it deserves. This movie really sets the standard for that whole representing the time thing that maybe will make me a lot of money in book form some day, considering this whole nonsense about abortion happened at the Vatican a month before the films USA release, and that whole ERA thing that was going on in the seventies. So clearly, abortion and a woman's right to choose, or to kill their boyfriend with phallic symbols, was on the public brain when this movie came out. However, they made the fatal (haha,) mistake of not punishing these things. I'd say that by '74 we were on a downhill (sorry guys, politics,) slope to the new right of the 80's and sledding quickly away from that whole...thing that was the 60's. Four years later, Halloween's virginal Jamie Lee Curtis, who fears men and sex but adores children, made forty seven million dollars and our dear Jess here only made four million. If Jess had been killed, and maybe boring, pre victim Claire had survived instead, maybe the movie would have the legacy it deserves.
It probably didn't help either that the film is Christmas theme and was released on December 20th, right when people are finishing up their holiday shopping. I think this is most of why, straight up marketing wise, Halloween was so much more successful. Around the end of October you want to be scared, you want to go with your friends to the movies and vicariously be stabbed/stab, you want to think that every door that opens is going to lead to your worst nightmare. Even teenagers, though, feel a little less like that around this time of year, (unless they're me, apparently,) and even if they do still want to go to the movies and be horrified, there are family events and stuff to go to, and there's just no way your parents are going to let you skip out on decorating the tree with aunt Margie to go see that new gory trash at the cinema.
That's the other thing--with this and Halloween being the parents of slasherdom, why has it, even from the very beginning, had such a bad reputation for being gory and sex-filled? Slut-girl in this movie has a lot of weird scenes talking about sex, but there's no nudity and the gore is very, very minimal. Look, it's all wrapped up in plastic and clean....

It's really not that bad at all. The only reason i wouldn't recommend this to anyone, specifically non genre fans, is because if anything it's a bit slow. It's so clearly dealing with important issues though, and not just being a sex and gore fest. I know standards were different in 1974, but seriously. Less than a bottle of ketchup used for this film. Like Psycho, it is high quality in that all of the violence is implied, we don't see it happen. It's a bit disappointing at times, especially in that Jess killing her boyfriend is represented only by a scream, and then a shot of her with his dead body across her lap. Very simple, very smart.
Also, the cinematography is brilliant and highly underrated. Look at this.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God. I died. This is so beautiful. What is happening? Why is there a series of small square screens with blue backlighting in the basement of the sorority house?
I don't care at all. I want to paint my wall with a mural of this shot, it's so amazing.
The ending is also just...pure film happiness. Film magicalness. One of my favorite things ever is keeping the camera in the same place while action goes on basically without noticing it--the shot is static, and people come and go as the please, and you hear what they're doing and therefore know what you need to know. The camera then pans around to all the dead bodies, and we hear that the killers still alive, and the credits happen over a long, high angle shot of the house with the phone ringing and getting progressively louder until it ends.
Film gobledeegook, i know, but...magic. Magic magic magic. It made me so happy.

Here's more film gobledeegook: listen to this symbolism i just noticed. If Halloween, focusing on feminine themes but also masculine ones with the doctor and Micheal Myers, is the father of slasher films, then this film, with it's strong focus on a female lead and a gender ambiguous killer and maternal themes, is the MOTHER of slasher films. With that in mind! The fact that it was not well received says some serious things about how slasher audiences and filmmakers think they look at motherhood.

Woah guys. Woah. That is something to think about while you eat your Christmas pie.
If you're weird, like me, and think about gender in horror while at family gatherings.

Happy Holidays, all :)