Holland + Harper Productions

Hey, frens! I’m back, back, back like Michael Myers rising from the undead to talk about the new Fear Street movie trilogy on Netflix. Now, I know what you’re thinking, that sounds cheesy as hell. I thought so too but then I got bored and watched the first one and they’re really pretty darn good.

I’m going to try and discuss the movie without giving much away because it’s pretty clever but I will tell you the the movies are all set in the quaint town of Shadyshide aka the murder capital of the world and that all three movies are connected, with each taking place during a different time period. 1994 kicks the series off and serves as the frame story that makes all three movies work together. I love me a frame story y’all. If they had called this movie Fear Street: A Hella Fun Frame Story I would have watched it the moment it released. So, way to bury the lead Netflix marketing.

The idea is that each movie will kind of recreate and reinterpret the style of horror movies popular in the era that they’re titled after. Well, except for 1666. They didn’t really have movies of any sort but I’m sure they had, like, slasher daguerreotypes collected together and labeled Ye Old Scary Story. This would admittedly be a tough vibe to recreate but I’m stoked to see them try.

The current 90’s nostalgia means that 1994 is a perfect place to kick off the series and the clothing, technology, and music are right on the money. I will warn you that they play around 7000 songs in the movie which feels like overkill (pun intended) but the closest thing the movie has to a love scene is set to the Cowboy Junkies cover of Sweet Jane. That song is indisputably sexy as hell and so more than makes up for their use of Machine Head by Bush. 1994 also mentions Spencer’s Gifts, B. Dalton’s bookstores and so many other little things that make my dinosaur ass nostalgic for my (long ago) youth.

The trailer tells you all you need to know really but, listen, I want to tell you that the director had the cast watch Scream (my all time favorite horror movie) and The Goonies to help them understand the vibe that she wanted to capture with the movie and also made them all mix tapes filled with songs to help each of them connect to their characters emotional arc. That is some nerdy ass shit and I love it. If that information doesn’t make you want to watch this movie immediately there’s probably something wrong with you. No judgement but there is.

The opening scene is a straight up and very intentional homage to Scream but the rhythm and characters are very much their own thing.

I really like that because these kids are the kind of marginalized characters that would be cannon fodder in most horror movies. They are not wealthy, not white, not particularly clean cut, not virginal, not entirely straight and all of ’em are from the wrong side of the metaphorical tracks. It’s refreshing. Fear Street 1994 is not the kind of horror movie that will give you nightmares but it’s suspenseful and engrossing. There’s a lot of mythology/backstory (my favorite) that it mages to set up as it hauls ass through a series of abandoned and neon splashed, malls, high school hallways, and hospitals.

The thing that makes this trilogy particularly bold and ambitious is that all three movies were filmed at the same time and Netflix is releasing them over the course of three weeks. 1994 dropped on 7/2, 1978 dropped on 7/9, and 1666 drops on 7/16 so the interconnected nature of the plots and the clever storytelling devices that all three movies use really sing in an immediate and visceral way that they wouldn’t if audiences had to wait a year or two between films. It also makes for a very fun viewing experience.

I’ve heard people lament that Netflix didn’t release these movies in October for maximum spookiness but I disagree. I used to spend many a night of summer vacation staying up late and watching scary movies. What better time to fully immerse yourself in those summer camp bloodbath movies than to watch them while being blasted by the arctic chill of air conditioning with fireflies buzzing outside your window? These movies are made for a triple feature at the drive in. In fact, I hope they do that for October. I would be so in. I’ll certainly rewatch them for Halloween month. I’ve seen two of them and they just keep getting better. So, if your a Freddy Fan, or a Ghostface thriller, or if you want Jason More-hees of some fun horror movies then lock your doors and windows, cook yourself up some Jiffy Pop on the stove. DO NOT answer your phone and check out this super fun trilogy.

We’re back with a new theme song and some old girls.

That’s right, it’s All Stars time and, you know what? I’m here for it…for the premiere, anyway. Because, I’m sorry, my dears, but I’m not signing up for Paramount+. But I did watch the hell out of the premiere, so let’s get into it, shall we?

The Cast:

A’Keiria C. Davenport (Season 11)

Jiggly Caliente (Season 4)

Jan Backpack (Season 12)

Ra’Jah O’Hara (Season 11)

Ginger Minj (Season 7, AS2)

Yara Sofia (Season 3, AS1)

Silky Nutmeg Ganache (Season 11)

Pandora Boxxx (Season 2, AS1)

Scarlet Envy (Season 11)

Serena ChaCha (Season 5)

Kylie Sonique Love (Season 2)

Trinity K. Bonet (Season 6)

Eureka (Season 9,10)

This cast, y’all. With SEVEN people of color, two transgender women, and four full bodied gals, this is the most diverse cast we’ve seen so far, and I’m thrilled. I was initially concerned about Silky and Eureka being on the same season because, girl, that’s a lot of personality. And sometimes not a great personality. But, so far so good. I love season 12, so was stoked to see Jan, who does not seem to have chilled even a little bit. Like someone said, Jan is so uptight, she doesn’t need to tuck. But, hey, I get it, and I happen to enjoy her level of lunacy and determination to win. I expect she’ll slay the competition…perhaps literally.

The Mini Challenge: The Library is Open

Oh, wait, there’s one final queen who needs no introduction. Our legendary special guest…Miss Piggy. Yep, because everyone love puppets! < I can’t believe no one made this joke on the show. They were clearly too star struck. And who can blame them? It’s not everyday you have a Zoom meeting with Miss Piggy, the queen of shade.

It means you’re the best, Miss Piggy.

The reading challenge is hit or miss. With 13 queens, not all the reads are going to be funny, but this was a pretty good one. A few duds here and there, but Scarlet came through with a zinger, calling A’Keiria the realest person she knows…from the waist up. #datass Miss Kylie told Ginger she was shaped like a deep breath, which would be mean, but her delivery saved it. And Ginger famously ribs on her size all the time, so it’s cool. Speaking of Ginger, she killed it, remarking that, based on the cast, her cholesterol is higher than Ru’s standards. Hilarious. Plus, she was dressed like a toad, which automatically makes her the winner. #glamourtoadforlife

The Main Challenge: Star-Studded Variety Show

Most of our ladies sang/danced, so I’m going to hit the high points only.

R’Jah sewed and got into a dress in 60 seconds. Like, a legit dress people would wear. And, like Michelle pointed out, she could bust out 60 in an hour and make a killing. #makethatmoney

Scarlet did this really cool burlesque routine that involved bubbles. Who the hell doesn’t love bubbles?

Silky can play the piano.

Jan needs to star in her very own superhero cartoon.

Yara…Yara did something with a breast plate that I don’t really know how to describe, but it was hilarious. She won the challenge.

Our bottom queens were Serena ChaCha (sing/dance) and Trinity K. Bonet (comedy). I was bummed to see TKB bomb. She tried to make the most of her season 6 standup success, and she just fell flat. She was nervous as hell. But, as she pointed out, nerves are a sign of caring. I think she really wants to be there and, ultimately, the gals sent Serena ChaCha packing…or did they?

Yara went up lip sync assassin Coco Montrese and lost. I mean, it was a good effort. Coco is just a damn good lip syncer. Season 5 was stacks on stacks of talented queens, so there’s no shame in losing to any of them.

As Serena was leaving, Ru was all like, “Not so fast, gal.” So, we have another All Stars twist. The real gag is, I won’t get to see it. In a move that is confusing, Drag Race All Stars has been moved to Paramount +, which I do not have. I’m not signing up for it. I won’t, and I shan’t. I already have 84 streaming services, and I’m not looking to make it 85. So, until this season is readily available, I guess I’ll be skipping it and recapping some of my favorite episodes from seasons past in lieu of recapping this season that I am actually hella excited about.

Alright, that’s all for now. Have a good week and, in the words of our queen Ginger, “Life is hard. Eat a carb.”

Smoky

4.5 Pretzels – just some good, solid, fresh ass pretzels. You know the ones.

A few days ago, a youth recommended that we listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s album, Sour.

To clarify, we know this youth. We aren’t just hangin’ around young people in an effort to stay cool, or are we? Anyway, always slightly behind, I finally got around to giving it a proper listen and, you guys, it’s dope as hell.

We open with Brutal. And I need to point out that I super enjoy how she rhymes “smart” with “park”. It’s not an obvious rhyme and those are my favorite kind of rhyme. And, y’all, she’s right. It is brutal out here. Brutal is a bop and, just when you think it’s going to be an edgier album, Rodigo flips with script with, like, four love songs in a row. Which is 100% not my jam. Here’s the thing, though, they’re good. They aren’t sappy in the traditional sense and Drivers License has this fun clapping situation that reminds me a little bit of Close to Me by The Cure. Anytime you bring Cure vibes, I’m there for it. Like, showing up with my best casserole dish, we’re here for the long haul there for it. Robert Smith, love song genius. I love him. Also, many years ago, we used to have Sunday cookouts with a group of friends. We would drink entirely too much Miller Lite and, one time, we spent a good two hours listening to Close to Me and trying to clap along in all the right spots. Try it; it’s really hard.

Ah, the good times. Fuzzy, but good. Sunday cookouts were the best. Except that time one of our attendees turned out to be a murderer, but that’s a story for another day.

Anyway, back to Rodrigo. She drops far too many fucks for any of these songs to be considered sappy. And, this came as a huge surprise to me, she uses a ton of double negatives and, not only do I not hate it, I think they improve the songs. Like, I’m sure she is aware of the word “anyone” but just refuses to use it, insisting on “no one” instead. It’s a bold choice, and I commend her for it.

I first noticed it in Happier, but she does it on a few tracks. Good for her. I dig it. Happier also gives me You Oughta Know without ALL the rage vibes. Like, she’s mad, but not burn down your house mad.

In fact, I did myself a solid and listened to Reputation by T Swift, Jagged Little Pill, and then Sour consecutively. I was able to maintain a low-level dislike of men in general for the entire day, and it was rad. Like, I wasn’t mad at all of them; I just wasn’t going to take any shit from a single one of them.

I also just learned that O. Ro – that’s a nickname I just made up – was on a show called Bizaardvark. I haven’t a clue what that means, but I love it. I may need to ask a youth to explain it to me.

So, the point of all this is, take advice from a youth and give this album a listen, and also maybe vet your cookout attendees before allowing them to come to your home. Just because someone brings the name brand chips does not mean they’re a good person.

Okay, byyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Smoky

You guys, it’s that time of year again! Summer time is Stevie time, and I have gotten a jump start on it.

First up, Carrie.

That’s right. I started at the beginning. I’ve read a lot of Stephen King, but I’ve never read his debut. The premise, I knew. Bullied telepath with a deranged mother has a bad day. But I didn’t realize the level of destruction Carrie reigns down on these fools. Guys, she destroys that place. And a lot of them deserve it. But a lot of them don’t. Many of them were innocent bystanders. My favorite parts of the book were the interviews and telepath articles interspersed with the story. It was unlike most of Stephen King’s books, but you can definitely see elements that would later become signature King.

The Running Man

Side note, LeRoux, Lowhan, and I had a Thai Breaker a few weekends, and we totes did this dance about it across my kitchen. What is a Thai Breaker, you ask? It’s when you order $200 worth of food form two competing Thai restaurants and then you eat all of it. The best part was when our Waitr drivers showed up at the same time. They were confused, and we were delighted.

Back to the books. Y’all, this is my very first Richard Bachman. What have I been waiting for? Richard Bachman is dope. Basically, it’s the future, people are starving, and the Network provides entertainment by having poor, desperate people compete on game shows where they die. It’s not great. But I guess that’s entertaining? I don’t get it. This book taught me that Suzanne Collins had not one single original idea when it came to The Hunger Games. She essentially took The Running Man and Battle Royale, put them in a blender, and made millions of dollars. I mean, props to her, I guess.

Second side note, I’m not sure why Arnold was cast as Ben in the movie adaptation. Ben Richards in the book is a buck sixty. Anyway, the book was dope, and I can’t wait to read more Bachman.

The Dark Half

I’m doing a reread. I love The Dark Half, and it just seemed like reading it again was the right decision. I’m not going to rereview it because I already wrote an awesome The Dark Half review. You may read it here. So, obviously, I dig The Dark Half. It’s creepy, it’s fun, and I think George Stark is kinda funny. I mean, it’s a murdering monster man, but he has a good sense of humor.

Hey y’all. I’m taking a break from my nonsense this week to support and share the words of a good friend with regard to the new Hulu documentary Sasquatch. Open your ears and hear the truth. I’m sharing a letter to the public from my good homie Bigfoot below.

Good evening my dudes. I want to take the opportunity to Sasqaush some rumors about a new “true crime” documentary called Sasquatch. This vomitus piece of film suggests that three people on a Northern California pot farm were murdered most foul-like by Bigfoot. You know what the real crime of this documentary is? Defamation! Of thine own character. (And also, obviously, the three heinous murders which yours truly did not do)

There is quite simply zero proof that I was ever even in the vicinity of this terrible crime. Bros, I’m literally covered in hair and leave massive footprints everywhere I go. Even Encyclopedia Brown has the forensic technology to prove that I was never at the scene. Where’s the evidence, yo? The cops ain’t got nothin’ on me, the locals ain’t got nothin’ on me, and this recklessly irresponsible filmmaker ain’t got nothin’ on me.

This tool is just using my good name and the purely speculative and fantastical history of violence that humans have attached to it to get people’s attention. It’s totally bogus, you know?

If he had been honest and called his movie “Well, shit. I don’t know who did it but it was bad” nobody would tune in. So this joker just went for cheap thrills. You guys know me. Maybe I won’t let you photograph me but I let you know where to get your hands on some quality jerky and I don’t do murders. Unless you litter. JK! Kind of. Anyways, I don’t get mad when y’all go traipsing around outside my crib hooting and hollering at all hours trying to communicate with me. First of all, my cousin Batsquatch taught me to meditate. When I get irritated I just take a coupla centering breaths and go about my day.

Second of all, I speak three languages and idiot isn’t one of them so kindly cut that biz out post haste. Third of all, how could any one of you believe that I’m capable of such a base and bloodthirsy act? Have you no chill? My feet may be big but your minds are small. As in narrow, ya’ heard?

I‘ve know that this mess was coming out for months. I called my lawyer, (A chupacabra named Chad) ASAP and tried to block the thing from getting released, right? But then Chad called me and was like “Dude, it’s not really about you. You’re like a metaphor for the monstrous violence that lurks in some humans.” Since it’s not mentioning your full name (Edwin) we can’t do anything to stop it from airing. And then he charged me 2 grand, (pianos. I have no idea what he plans to do with them), and hung up.

Oh yeah, Chad? You’re a metaphor! It doesn’t matter if my full name isn’t on it. The implication alone could ruin my endorsement deals. How would Chad like it if a made a movie called “Chupacabra lawyer can only maintain an erection while watching videos of a baby penguin eating a banana” and aired it on HBOMax? Bet he wouldn’t like it at all. Bet everybody would start looking at him real weird whenever he went to the zoo or shopped in the freezer section and what not.

Besides, people obviously did these murders. Hippies to be specific. Listen, your friend Biggie ain’t dumb. I know all that peace and love crap is just talk. Hippies as a group are some of the worst, most selfish people I’ve ever met. I don’t know why they as a group are universally terrible.

Maybe after you listen to the 40 minute version of Truckin’ for the hundredth time your humanity just collapses like a planet engulfed by a black hole. Whatever the case may be I know it was hippies at the center of this whole crime. I ask that you join me in solidarity and boycott Sasquatch. I appreciate your time.

Sincerely,

E. Big Foote

Henlo frens! Sorry this blog is a little late but I was having trouble figuring out what I wanted to write about. I watched this very, very cute documentary called Babies this week which made me smile like an idiot but that’s for me. A couple of days ago I was aimlessly looking around for something to watch when I stumbled upon the movie Spontaneous and decided to watch it (spontaneously). The lead is a mischievous smart ass with curly blond hair named Mara so I was immediately into it. I have an intense love for mischievous smart asses with curly blonde hair whose names start with M. They own me. Always have.

So, the deal is that one day Mara is bored out of her mind in class because the teacher is droning on about the Louisiana Purchase or what have you when the girl who sits in front of her explodes. Just spontaneously combusts in a fountain of bright red blood and goo and everybody loses their shit and runs outta the classroom. It’s a very relatable and correct response. The next day everybody goes back to school freaked out but assuming they were all briefly part of a science fiction novel and everything will go back to normal. Until another kid explodes, then another and then two more. It’s a real mess. Nobody feels comfortable wearing white anymore OR is sure whether or not they’ll make it through the day without becoming a human water balloon.

Senior year is hella stressful, amiright? The Feds roll in with a team of doctors and they quarantine all of the seniors and do a bunch of tests on them to try and figure out what’s making them go boom. During that time the kids bond and but explode quite a bit until the doctors test a pill that seems to work and the kids are released back into the wild to try and cope with the sustained trauma of repeatedly watching people they know die right in front of them while also trying to make themselves care about trigonometry or whatever. All the while worrying that every one of them will be dead by the time graduation rolls around. Obviously, it’s hilarious. No really. It is. It’s clever and sweet and all of the characters are well rounded. The visual storytelling is inventive and fun. The soundtrack has this poppy electro-synth cover of Bye, Bye Love that plays over a montage of the kids goofing around in quarantine while people in biohazard suits clean up the never ending wave of bloody exploded teen gore. It’s dark comedy gold.

It’s a real shame that this movie came out in the middle of the pandemic when most people probably wanted to do anything but ponder their own mortality whilst watching a group of seemingly healthy people randomly drop (pop?) dead. I’m not going to go into a whole thing about symbolism and metaphors here because I don’t wanna. The story can mean a lot of things to a lot of people and I would rather let anyone watching find their own truth in there. I will say that this movie is good as hell though and it deserves attention and awards.

Spontaneous is way better and more thought provoking than those cliched, joyless, stuffy ass movies that people just love to throw Oscars at. Those movies lack soul and creativity but Spontaneous made me laugh, it made me cry, and it made me want to dance like a goof with the girl I love (which isn’t hard to do but I appreciate any opportunity to feel that way). The movie also let me grieve and I think that I really needed that right now. Probably a lot of people do. Despite the grief and tears the ending is one of the most unexpectedly defiant and freeing things that I’ve seen in a long while.

It’s been really hard for me to find entertainment that I connect with lately so this movie came as a really wonderful and much needed surprise. Turns out I sometimes like surprises. I’m grateful that I got the chance to see it and while I know that randomly exploding children are not everybody’s thang this movie spoke to me. I highly recommend it and am officially adding it to the list of things that are extremely my shit. So maybe add it to your list of things to watch. Just don’t watch it while eating spaghetti. Or tomato soup. Or drinking fruit punch.

Have you ever heard that famous saying “Don’t start none, won’t be none”? I can’t remember who first said it. Probably Confuscius or Kim Kardashian or some other wise soul. The point is, that saying is very much the motto of a little French hobgoblin called Nain Rouge. He’s a petite gentleman about 2 or 3 feet tall with sin red skin and cold black eyes who likes to kick it in what is now Detroit. I had no idea that Detroit was founded by the French but now that I think about it deep dish pizza, classic cars and Motown are all very French really.

Nainey, as his friends call him, was neither a ruffian nor a scuttlebutt. He just wanted to be left alone to do his little Nainey things without being bothered. I’m not sure what his main hobbies were but given the time I assume whittling and maybe cribbage. Full disclosure-I have no idea what cribbage is except that it seems like a very complicated,old timey game that both demons and the French would enjoy. So yeah, one day right after Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac founded the city Nainey was out running errands. Probably picking up snacks for his all goblin/demon cribbage club when he ran into Cadillac and Cadillac, being a founding father who was ferociously full of himself, did not politely say “Oh merde, ma faute”. He took his walking stick and started whacking at Nainey whilst hollering “Get out of my way, you red imp!”.

This despite the fact that Cadillac was previously warned by a mystic that if he didn’t want to gunk his gig up he should be nice to Nainey. Always listen to your mystic folks, they aren’t talking to just to hear themselves prophesize. Because, here’s the thing, Nainey does not take well to being slighted. He can hold a grudge for eternity and he loves himself a good fit of righteous revenging. So, he wrecked Cadillac’s life. Or really Cadillac wrecked Cadillac’s life by being an immoral douchebag politician with no manners. Nainey simply made sure that fact came to light. When it did Cadillac was exiled to Louisiana where he couldn’t enjoy their delicious etouffee because of a shellfish allergy and he was constantly beset by bird sized mosquitos. Serves him right. Anyway, Nainey’s thirst for vengeance was quenched and he went back home to enjoy a nice shrimp cocktail.

That would be the end of the story except the people of Detroit keep blaming Nainey for all the bad things that happen in the city even though he had nothing to do with any of it. There was a massive fire in the city in 1805 and people swore that they saw Nainey’s face “leering” at them through the smoke. People said he was lurking around giving them the stink eye right before the riots in 1967 and in 1977 a lineman swore that he saw Nainey “shimmying up a utility pole and leering at him” the day before a massive electricity outage. It’s a real unhealthy thing to project blame onto people for things that are entirely out of their control and Detroit as a city should really do some personal work to get over that habit.

I also don’t understand the weird sexual/romantic undertones that witnesses keep dropping into these sightings. Like Nainey is looking them right in the eye while clambering around on a pole all sexy-like just thinking “Damn you! Why must you be so alluring? I am sensually drawn to you but also must destroy you”. He’s not. He’s not doing or thinking any of that crap because he’s at home whittling realistic figurines of the birds of North America.

There’s even this whole parade that Detroit does every year called March du Nain Rouge where they dress up in costumes and symbolically kick him out of the city. That’s a bridge too dang far. It’s egregious, is what it is, and it went on for years before some enlightened souls came to Nainey’s defense. They call themselves The Friends of Nain Rouge and although they aren’t very creative their hearts are in the right place. They post up at the parade every year and hold signs that say things like “The Real Nain is Nice” and “Masks Can Not Cover Your Lies”. That last one is a little over dramatic but the sentiment is nice.

I guess the man take away from Nainey’s story is that when bad stuff happens you can’t just go around inventing pyschosexual morality plays based on hapless hobgoblins to blame it on. You just gotta pick yourself up and do the work to move on. Also, manners are so important. Don’t just go running around whacking at folks with sticks because you’re a grump. Sure, some people deserve a good solid thunking with a heavy stick but mostly it’s mean and it’ll get you booted right down to Louisiana. It’s real humid there guys. Your hair is gonna frizz up like crazy and nobody wants that.