Holland + Harper Productions

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. I guess? It’s what I’ve been led to believe by many an overly peppy Christmas song. I would tend to disagree but I’m in the minority. Hallmark has been airing Christmas movies since Halloween for heavens sake. And that’s fine. It’s whatever.

I’m especially chill with it since I’ve discovered the antidote to the saccharine sweetness of business people who’ve lost the Christmas spirit only to return to the small town they grew up in and fall in love with the owner of a bakery that needs a Christmas miracle to stay open. That may get some people’s stockings stuffed but you know what really jingles my bells? Yellowjackets.

This show trades in all those blandly attractive business people for a plane full of teenage soccer players. It swaps out that blinged out bakery for the side of a remote mountain and instead of playful snowball fights these gals hunt and kill each other for dinner. And maybe sport.

Fa la la la la indeed. These kids are less interested in quaint Christmas traditions and more interested in piecing together fierce fashion from animal hides and bones. And they sure as heck ain’t building gingerbread houses out there. They’re slaughtering Becky from trigonometry and serving her up on a homemade charcuterie board like a bunch of feral, fur clad Martha Stewarts.

If that sounds like your jam. your figgy pudding if you will, then you should check out Yellowjackets. Maybe you’re wondering if you can still enjoy the show if you are neither a fan of soccer or cannibalism? You absolutely can! I hate sports and have only a middling interest in consuming human flesh and yet I am riveted. As you may have noticed the cast is stellar. You can’t fully appreciate how stellar they are until you’ve heard Christina Ricci monologue about how sexy escalators are or how she has a pet bird named Caligula. Or seen the always adorable and delightful Melanie Lynsky do the kind of harm to the rabbit community that Elmer Fudd only ever dared dream about. Or until you’ve realized that even slinging back whiskey and wielding a shotgun Juliette Lewis is still the most chill character on the show.

Yellowjackets is dark and weird and mysterious and so very gross. It’s an unflinching story about trauma and what it takes to become feral. An animal in a goth fantasy evening gown just doing what you have to do to stay alive. And it’s also about what the hell you do with that animal side when you’re rescued and the world wants you to go back to caring about MTV and Sassy magazine. Because what if it felt good to be a monster? What if no matter how hard you try you can’t make yourself stop thinking about what you did? What if pizza is good but maybe sometimes you still miss the taste of the meat? Of your friend. What if you feel like you’re going to crawl right out of your skin every minute of every day while you pretend to be normal? What if you get an anonymous postcard and then you’re maybe being hunted again and that’s scary but it also makes you feel more alive than you have since you were a teenager?

That’s the show in a nutshell, a chesnut shell. Ha! I’m obsessed with it and so should you be. So if you’re a little overwhelmed with all of the holiday cheer you should check it out. I can guarantee that the only lists these girls are making and checking twice contain the names of their enemies. Buzz Buzz!

What up, ghouls? As you may or may not know, we both LOVE Halloween. Like, love it, and there’s just too much Halloween themed pop culture to consume, so we celebrate the entire month of October. And why not? October’s dope. I’ve decided to do a mid-month review of all the Halloween-inspired stuff I’ve consumed thus far.

Let’s get into it, shall we?

But, wait, let’s play a fun game of guess the classic I somehow only just watched for the first time. It’s a fun game. I’ll give you a one line review, and you guess the movie.

Okay, here it is:

“Look, if you come at me with a crab on your face, your ass is stayin’ outside.”

Alternatively,

“I know next to nothing about spaceships, but this one seems very damp to me.”

Know the movie? Leave it in the comments.

Okay, let’s get to some reviews.

Book Review: Gerald’s Game, Stephen King

4 Pretzels for offering up sheer terror every time I entered a dark room

Woah, Uncle Stevie, you out did yourself with this one. GG comes out of the gate tense as hell and doesn’t let up. Jessie and Gerald, married for nearly two decades, head to their lake house in the off season for a weekend of bondage. Things go poorly when Gerald ignores all the rules and boundaries of this type of relationship, and Jessie is forced to defend herself. Gerald unexpectedly dies, and Jessie is left handcuffed to the bed. Now, Jessie, turns out, is hella smart and resourceful. But, man, does she go through it. We have repressed memories, voices in her head, a dog formerly known as Prince, a creepy ass bag of bones man, and a clever connection to one of the most interesting SK’s I’ve read, Delores Claiborne. Gerald’s Game scared the bejeezus out of me, y’all. It’s very tense, and that bone man is no one to mess with. I just assumed he was simultaneously standing in every corner of my house just waiting to offer me a pinkie and a pearl earring. I want neither from him. Netflix adapted the story. I haven’t watched it yet, but it’s on the Halloween list.

Other Reads (Reviews to come):

Chasing the Boogeyman, Richard Chizmar

Head Full of Ghosts, Peter Tremblay

Billy Summers, Stephen King

Movie Review: Becky

5 Pretzels for sheer enjoyment. Enjoyment will always get one more star than terror.

Becky (LuLu Wilson) is 13, and she is pissed. A year ago, her mother died, so it’s just she, her dad, and two dope dogs named Dora and Diego. Dad (Joel McHale) pulls a cool dad move and checks her out of school early for a weekend at their lake house. Then he pulls a completely uncool dad move and invites his girlfriend and her son. Becky is…displeased. In another part of town, four Nazis have escaped from prison. And, of course, these two foursomes meet up, and it does not go well. Becky goes full Lord of Flies on these dudes, attacking them with makeshift weapons made of arts and crafts supplies. It’s truly a marvel to watch.

I would in no way call this movie scary. In fact, the only scary thing about it is the sheer number of Nazi tattoos they managed to cram on to Kevin James’ bald head. That’s right, Paul Blart is now a Nazi. You can stream Becky on Hulu.

Here’s the trailer.

Other movies I watched:

Benny Loves You. (Think Talking Tina but less scary and way more stupid)

The Rental

Step Father

Heathers

My Favorite Folklore:

You didn’t think I was going to say murder, did you? Look, I was super into that podcast for about a week and a half, and then I just could not with it. It’s the total lack of research that gets me. You aren’t sure how old the victim was? Google that shit.

We’re gonna throw it all the way back to when Sarah did her #folklorefriday blog series. I loved all of them, but we’re focusing on the mysterious and spooky. With that in mind, I have to kick it off with a local legend, The Gurdon Light. You can read her blog here. Or, better yet, flip through this magazine I wrote, edited, and published for work. Sarah was nice enough to let me use it for the newest edition.

I haven’t consumed as much spooky stuff as I would have liked. I’ve been, you know, actually enjoying this really great fall weather we’ve had. We went hiking – yes, y’all – the Sarah Holland and Ryanne Harper went hiking. Like, on purpose. We weren’t lost or anything.

So, however you choose to celebrate Halloween, whether it’s spooky movies, shoving several Reese’s pumpkins in your face, or getting outside, you do you, boo.

If ever there was a town just waiting to be in a slasher movie it Proofrock Idaho. It’s got an eerie history already. An abandoned summer camp where four kids died bloody and mysterious. An urban legend about a lake witch, oh and that lake is built upon the remnants of a whole other town. Drowned in the name of progress with the buildings still waiting down there under that deep, cold water. It’s the perfect setting for some horror. Not just the mundane stuff either but the kind of bloodbath that would make John Carpenter weep at it’s dreadful beauty.

Jade knows this. Has known it since she dug her first slasher movie out of the bargain bin at a gas station when she was 11. She’s been studying ever since. A thing that she understands, how could she not? Is that slashers aren’t born. They’re made. What are these monsters but misfits tormented and abandoned and wronged so egregiously that they have no choice but to don the mask, pick up whatever sharp object is laying around and get to work? The universe demands it.

And so Jade has been doing her murder homework, just waiting for the glorious day that the slasher will come and wipe this shithole town clean. If only they show up before she graduates and vacates to greener pastures. The thought keeps her going. A girl’s got to believe in something. So Jade believes in Michael Myers, in Leatherface, in Billy Loomis.

When the bodies start to fall she can hardly believe her luck. Who is this dark angel come to baptize the town in blood and viscera? Is her slasher dream coming to life? The sheriff doesn’t think so. Nobody believes her. They’re all yakking about freak accidents and figments of her imagination, And maybe Jade’s crazy-hell, she knows she’s crazy. Jade is what the town made her after all. But. She’s also right. Isn’t she? She is! She knows it when she meets the girl of her dreams. The Final Girl.

See, another rule of slashers is that while the misfit deserves revenge they do tend to get out of hand. Some sort of monster hubris kicks in and after they off the dixkholes who drowned them, burned them, left them for dead, they start killing for the smallest little things. So high on their own rage that some rando gets an icepick to the skull just for jaywalking. And the universe can’t leave that kind of energy unchecked. Enter the Final Girl. As pure as the slasher is broken. She’s the only one with the juice to end the cycle.

And let’s face it, Jade is no Final Girl. She’s no slasher either. Oh, she’s been failed by every person she should have been able to trust. Everyone who should have kept her safe. But she doesn’t have the stomach for disemboweling. She’s not special enough to be at either side of the cycle. Instead Jade is the deserted bunk at Camp Blood. The old newspaper filling in the gaps in the story, the woods the slasher roams through.

And oh! What a story it is. Until. Well, until it’s more than just a story. until the innocent people start getting turned to pulp in the path of all that revenge. And then maybe. Just maybe. Jade realizes that she might be part of the story after all.

Sounds good right? It absolutely is! And it’s such a perfect read for October. Do yourself a favor and check out My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones. Sydney Prescott would want you to.

Ok, so obviously this blog is stewing with spoilers so don’t read if you for some reason haven’t watch 1666 yet. Or do, who am I to tell you how to live. Just be warned.

When I sat down to watch 1666 I was so hype and then my hype did diminish just a tad. The first half of 1666 is a very good example of a genre of horror that I’m just not about. You know the type-everyone needs a shower, animals die in cruel and foreboding ways, and there’s always some kind of busybody goat or something running about asking provocative questions. Just not my thing. It does very much remind me of The Crucible and is an excellent example of how the patriarchy and mass hysteria bloom and destroy the innocent. And, you guys, I must offer my sincerest apologies for any shit I talked about Sarah Fier in my previous blogs. I should have known better. How could anyone named Sarah be all that bad?

Sarah Fier is a legend. Such a brilliant badass who managed to lay a curse on her persecutors and finally got those bastards. Good for her. It was also lovely to see the actors from the first two movies back and alive. It also supports my whole reincarnation belief. That these souls have been trapped in a toxic cycle. Each playing their parts until finally they make the progress to break that cycle and move on to new things. My favorites here were knowing that even Kate’s ancestors were clever shitstirrers and also that Cindy Berman’s past self was having all the sex and drug fueled fun that Cindy never let herself enjoy. Get it, Abigail Berman! I also really appreciated all of the call backs to the first two movies that we get in 1666. They made me happy.

So, you can imagine my excitement when the movie went back to 1994 and we picked up with our original crew. Here’s a thing about me. For a horror movie to really work I want heartfelt speeches before the final battle, some laughs (“You smell like an androgynous baby’) and a clever Scooby Doo type scheme to stop the bad guys. Part 2 delivered all of those things. It also brought Martin back into the story and I think that character is so great. Like, so great.

I also loved that they were like, “Sheriff Goode is fully an evil (douche) wizard and he absolutely knows that we know so a whole army of killers in going to descend at any moment. Totally need to get ready to fight. Totally. But first, let’s break into a Gadzooks and spray paint this whole ass mall with insulting blacklight graffiti. You know, for ambiance”. Because I would do the same thing. Good job y’all.

And that Scooby Doo plan is epic and fun. The last 45 minutes of the movie are so tense and thrilling. The supersoakers filled with neon blood. The way that our first round of killers slither into the space walking right past the terrified good guys. Trapping them with the security gates, spraying the killers with the blood so that they go after each other. That was so fun you guys. And I love that Ziggy got to Carrie that piece of shit Nick Goode.

While we’re at it let’s talk about the pure evil that is the Goode family. So selfish, all of them. They’re sacrificing all of these lives, putting a whole community through constant oppression, and for what? McMansions, so that Nick can be the lame ass town sheriff and live in a creepily ornate and immaculate house? Like, you’re willing to sell your souls for that? Fuck outta here with that mess. And then when this asshole does show up to the mall to kill some more innocent people has is 100% weak sauce.

Like, I genuinely think that he believes that he cares for Ziggy. Somehow he allows himself to believe that but as soon as stuff goes sideways he’s absolutely willing to sacrifice her. Dick. AND THEN he’s such a chicken shit that the second he get’s a little knife wound he runs straight away and summons a supernatural 8 year old with an admittedly terrifying mask and a baseball bat and a teenage choir girl gone evil to do the dirty work for him. What a freaking wuss. For real, fuck that guy.

I did love the final sequence when Deena is chasing his wounded ass through those creepy rock tunnels that ole granpappy chickenshit built. They way that it’s the reverse of the 1666 sequence. Goode is the prey now and is fully gonna get ended by a pissed off 17 year old lesbian. Never fight a teen in a mall Nick Goode. They are at their peak powers there. Like Sydney Prescott on a set of stairs they will kick your ass every time. I also loved that when Goode touched that horrible pulsing goo Sarah came back and chanted that very powerful and eerie curse at him while he was surrounded with visions of the people who died by his family’s hand. Good(e) stuff.

And the queer kids lived this time! Which is lovely. I also appreciated the bulletproof vest made of Fear Street books that Deena made herself. It felt very like a shout out to Wynonna Earp which I appreciated. So the good (not Goode) guys won and the curse was lifted. It was lovely to see the immediate shift after the curse was broken. Seeing Deena and Sam tracking mud and blood all over Goode’s immaculate carpet and emerging from his fancy ass house just in time to see a Sunnysider get hit by a garbage truck. It sounds terrible but I did laugh at that. I also laughed at the post it by Deena and Josh’s front door that said, “I’ll be home for dinner. DON’T COOK. Love Dad”. And Martin trying to hustle his early MP3 player at the school. Josh finally meeting his goth crush in real life. And Deena and Sam having burgers and making a headstone for Sarah Fier as Gigantic plays over the end of the movie. And I got a little teary when Ziggy knocked on Nurse Lane’s door to give her back her journal. It was so sweet when those two hugged.

Of course that’s not the final scene. I knew that they shouldn’t have left that dang spellbook just laying around in the underground murder caves. Can’t say I’m mad about it though. I love that they could potentially do a Marvel style universe of spin-offs and prequels in this Fear Street universe. What movie would you like to see? I’m thinking I want a Ruby Lane movie because out of all of those murderers Ruby is the scariest. Something about the way you can hear her singing that spooky ass song combined with a straight razor is terrifying. Anyway, good game Fear Street. I’ll be rewatching the whole trilogy come October and I hope you’ll do the same.

Alright kids, first things first. This blog is just spattered with spoilers so if you haven’t watched the movie yet read at your own risk.

I’m so truly impressed with what these movies are managing to do. If you told me some movies based on Fear Street were gonna revamp horror entirely I would have been as shocked as the people who have seen this ridiculous car in real life. Which is to say that I loved 1978 ( go figure).

So, I’m not going to go into the plot too much. Deena and her little brother haul her possessed girlfriend over to C. Berman’s-the only survivor of the Camp Nightwing massacre- house. Which is just entirely rude. But after much pleading the mysterious C. Berman tells the kids the story of the worst night of her life in the hopes that those fools can find something useful in it.

And, here’s the thing that people don’t like to dwell on after the movie’s over, to be a final girl you must survive absolute horror. Then you must carry that horror with you for the rest of your life. Every final girl is deeply and profoundly traumatized. Maybe they survived but that’s all they can do. Their dreams are restless, bloody things haunted by the faces of their dead friends. By their killer. Even the brightest day is filled with hidden shadows and unseen horror. It’s not a pretty place to be. So, when you’re that girl. The final girl that’s now a haunted woman, and two random strangers break into your kitchen in the middle of the night you’re a damn saint if you don’t murder them yourself. It’s even more gracious if you’re willing to open those barely healed wounds and tell those twerps every detail of your trauma but that’s what Ziggy Berman does.

Ziggy tells you about the massacre. About the night she stopped living and started surviving. She tells you about how her hope died as she desperately tried to reach her sister’s hand across a few feet of blood soaked grass.

You know what the movie’s about. A bloodthirsty killer roaming among the innocent at a summer camp. People-a lot of people die- and it’s scary and heartpounding and very entertaining to watch. The thing that makes 1978 my favorite though is that this is the heart of the trilogy. It’s a summer camp massacre movie but it’s also an exploration and tribute to the bond between siblings and best friends. It’s about the fact that even though these Shadyside kids are literally cursed. Are broke and discriminated against. That they have no future-at least not one that doesn’t involve holding down two jobs- and probably a broken marriage. Debt, addiction, you name it. Either the curse kills them directly or indirectly and maybe the ones who die quick are the lucky ones. Still though, they fight.

They fight to live, to fall in love, to find a way out of that town. To break the curse. And through all of that they remain good people which is brightly contrasted with the outright sociopathy of the Sunnyside kids. You can never trust a Sunnysider. They may fool you for a minute but they’ll sell you out to save their asses every time.

1978 takes the time to let you know the characters. It even takes the time to let you know the killers. It tells you how poor Ruby Lane was such a sweet kid before the witch possessed her. How much her mother loved her. It makes sure that you realize even the killers are unwitting victims of the curse. And that’s quite a feat to pull off.

Of course, it’s also filled with great acting and the music in this one is even better that the last. With the Velvet Underground crooning Sweet Jane during the love scene this time and bookending the movie with Nirvana and David Bowie’s versions of The Man Who Sold the World. It looks great too trading in the neon splashed vibe of 1994 for 70’s era oversaturated sunlight. Of course it moves the frame story along too and although I’m excited for 1666 no moment of this trilogy will top the last shot we see of Ziggy Berman.

Because, folks, Ziggy Berman is pissed. She has hope again for the first time in so long. Maybe her sister didn’t die in vain after all. Maybe they can actually break this fucking curse once and for all. The witch better watch her ass because Ziggy Berman is ready to fight. She may have to sacrifice herself but she’s ready to finish what her big sister started.