Category: Death

Here Comes The Meat Wagon!

It has been nearly a week since my last post and it has felt like a month. I swear this January has been the longest span of time since the time I watched Valentines Day. So much has happened and yet it feels like time has slowed somehow. I thought that being busy meant time goes fast? The other day at work I think I witnessed a glitch in the matrix and saw the same person leave their cubical twice without going back. But really I think it’s the cold meds because some jacka-douche gave me a cold. Can January suck any harder? Wait…retract that. It’s not February yet. January can still be a dick.

I have no idea what to write about besides maybe doing a review of one of my favorite Creep Show movie chapters that will always go down as a lesson that hitting a hitchhiker and not reporting it may come back to bite you in the end. Or maybe not to hitchhike. Perhaps don’t cheat on your husband? Maybe , you should buy a Mercedes because they can take a beating. I don’t know, but if you’re going to Dover, then you should probably fly.

Just like how every Creep Show movie installment begins, we start with a comic picture turned to real-life and we soon learn that a couple is just waking after what seemed to be like quite an episode of adult paddy cake to learn that the digital alarm clock is blinking 12:00 and that could only mean that the power is out. No big deal to most but we soon learn the lady had PAID for sex with a young banker/jiggalo and she needed to be home at 11:30 on the dot or Hell of Gozarian would come down on her from her husband.

We see they are negotiating price which is a weird turn of the tables to such a negotiation of goods. Apparently six orgasms are worth $150. (Is this true?) And he is well on his way to his own new Mercedes if he keeps preforming.

One can’t help to notice over the right shoulder of male whore #1 or what my species calls “the fucking man” is a copy of a Stephen King novel. Way to be subtle Mr. King. What is next? A cameo of you doing some sort of blue collar job? I am sure you will think of something that will cause the director to want to hit his dick into a an angry humming bird nest.

Well, $150 bucks passed and the lady is on the road to drive twenty miles in seven minutes. She talks to herself. A lot. She jokes about the excuses she will come up with and even rationalized that $150 for six orgasms is a heck of a deal and her husband would absolutely agree, economically, she was wiser for it. She gets her story straight but an allusive cigarette flips from her fingers and she looses control of her car. Seems plausible, especially when this guy is in the way…

Juke left!!! Too late. This poor guy was hitching to Dover but instead ended up a Mercedes bumper trophy and in all honesty, his positioning kind of deserved it. Who hitches on a blind curve?

'The quarterback IS toast!"

Daaaaaaamn…there goes you’re accident forgiveness policy with Allstate. This might be hard to explain. Unless you say fuck it and take off.

Und she did.

Remember when I asked when a cameo with Stephen King would show up? Here he is and boy he looked as stupid as his original character in the first Creep Show when he turned into a stereo-voiced grass creature. (never put your fingers in your mouth) This time he is a truck driver that happens upon the remains of what the lady did to the Dover-bound hitch-hiker. Stephen makes it a point to say he is a black guy. Truuuuuuuuue.

Meanwhile, the typical bad driver is having a moral dilemma about having left the scene of the crime and debates whether or not to turn herself in. She comes to grips that she killed someone but is worried what will become of her. Rationality sets in and she chalks it up to an accident so why ruin her life too. It totally makes sense. I have had this inner debate when I ran over a squirrel last year.

But after she began to feel a little bit better, she passed a familiar person. (the squirrel didn’t do this) Slamming on the brakes she looked in the review mirrior and much to her shock, the dead guy is still in need of  a ride to Dover. Fudge.

“Thanks for the ride, lady!” Now this is the kind of dude that rubs me the wrong way. It’s one thing to ask and it’s totally different to demand. She did what she had to and rolled up the window, shriek, drive like an asshole and piss her blue leather seats. It is precisely the same thing I would have done.

The funny thing about this whole story is it takes place from the passenger’s side of a 1986 Mercedes and we never even think about it. Had this been any other movie we would have been like, “God, when will she get out of the car and do something?” Here, it’s like Hogan’s Heroes and instead of a Sherman battle tank of WWII we have a German luxury car. Is this irony? I’m confused now.

So, unable to shake the dead “stage five clinger” from her car she decides to DRIVE THROUGH THE WOODS and strip him from the roof. A really good idea in a Range Rover but this might void the warranty on a 86′  Mercedes. Theory. Surprisingly the car does just fine as she maneuvers through dense Maine forrest at night. I know.

The guy really needs this ride! Soon the detour works and the dead Dover-bound fella can’t hold his grip against a thick low hanging tree branch and she finds her way out of the forrest, onto a road where she does a typical horror movie thing.

She stops to collect her thoughts. Anyone who has seen a horror flick knows that when you are being chased by something that should be dead, there has to be time to stop, turn your back on the said thing, and collect yourself. Other wise we wouldn’t have scenes like this:

Jumpin’ Jesus, he will not drop the “need a ride” thing! This time, however, she has a little help from a .38 she has hid in the glovebox and puts a barn door in his chest. Twice. And twice in the head. I am starting to like this lady.

Oh yeah, and she backs up into him, runs him over and then drives back over him just to be sure. Check that, I am starting to love this woman.

It appears that she and her severely mangled Mercedes have gotten the best of the persistent hitch-hiker and she is well on her way to explain to the husband why a tree, blood splatter and a sign to Dover are all crammed in the grill. Her sigh of relief brings more self-discussion as she imagines what the auto repair technical will say. “Just six thousand dollars and it will be just like you drove it off the showroom floor.” But soon this happens. As we predicted.

Come on! Now tell me I am wrong but doesn’t this sound like one of those Scary Stories books Alvin Schwartz wrote with a third-grade climactic ending? “You killed me”? Really? Well, it is to the point although a tad drab. This would have been a prefect time to take this comedy to a new level. He should have held a sign stating “You’re a quart low” or “Is there something in my teeth besides your car?” Ha! Oh, the possibilities.

Loos like it’s time to take this car off road again.

This time she bashes the guy into a tree four times, ending with a knockout blow to herself against the steering wheel as she collapses stating, “that’ll cost you”. I am not sure but after all that road damage this might be the final end to a fine automobile.

Nope! She wakes up and drives the car out of the woods and through the neighborhood, coasting into the garage in worse shape than the Family Truckster.

This was totally a deer. That’s what I would say. As Delia would say, “..a little gasoline, a blowtorch. No problem!”. Her insurance adjuster might disagree though.

Oh what could possibly happen? Could it be a Friday the 13th ending or could it be a Deliverance ending?

How about both! He finally got his ride. Not to Dover though and to be honest, he looks a little beat up from the trip. With an eyeball here and a tongue over there, he crawls out from underneath the car and like a gentleman he thanks her for the ride.

And chokes the shit out of her! We all knew she couldn’t live with hitting this guy. One way or another, she would pay for it. So what is the moral of the story? Is it not to cheat on a spouse? Prostitution is a bad thing? Greed can lead to hard times? Killing someone and then driving away is wrong?

No.

Buy a Mercedes Benz because those things can take a beating and still get you home. With or without a hitch-hiker.

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Christmas Non-Jolly Traditions. Actually, Terrifying Is The Word.

Oh, Christmas traditions are a funny thing, eh? We put a dead tree in the living room and wrap it in electric wires, hang socks over a fireplace, drink booze at work parties, exchange gifts we know people will either give away the next year or return, wear sweaters that would make a crazy old lady wince, bribe our kids with gifts if they are good and use a made-up fat guy as leverage, and listen to music that we love until December 26th then completely hate. And all this has to do, somehow, with the Son of God being born in a barn. Trying to explain this holiday to an extraterrestrial would be difficult if not slightly embarrassing but if we compare our traditions with that of other countries, we may come off as silly but at least we aren’t creepy and sadistic. Let me shed some light on a few traditions other countries have on this holiday of holly jolly.

Let’s start with the Scandinavians. Apparently it’s bad news to go out the night of Christmas Eve because this is the night when trolls, goblins, witches and ghost are said to roam the land and before dawn they are the craziest. To venture out means certain death so pray there isn’t a late night run to the local mart for more cheese and beer.

The Swedes take it a step further by actually setting a table with a huge feast for dead relatives to return from the grave and party all night. The (living) family members close off the room, go to bed and not dare return until morning. They observe any signs that there was a ghostly gathering the morning of Christmas and I guess…open presents? No idea.

In Wales, it’s said dogs that howl during the night on Christmas Eve will go mad by years end. They also make a point to keep a candle lit through Christmas day and if it should go out means there will be a death in the house soon. Oh! Also if you cast a shadow on the wall and it appears headless you are totally fucked. I’m not making these up.

Another odd Netherlands tradition or folklore is to clean all of your Christmas decorations by February second and if you are late or leave behind any needles from wreaths or a tree, that is how many spirits and demons you will have for the rest of the year. This folklore I happen to like because seeing neighbors with Christmas decorations up any longer than a month after December should result in at least a curse.

Here is my personal favorite and it hails from Austria. I am not sure how cute elves were brought about as St. Nick’s assistant because the origin of Santa has a demon named Krampus helping him out. Yeah, a demon who tags along with him to handle the “naughty” list. Did I mention he is a rape demon too? Apparently he is described as an incubus that preys on sleeping people and follows around St. Nick delivering beatings to bad kids and the really bad ones go with Krampus down to Hell. This reward to punishment ratio seems a little bit one sided. If you are good you get a bunch of candy in your shoe. Bad, you get raped, beaten and dragged to Hell.

Damn, Santa is kind of a sick jerk.

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How to Make “Hate Pizza”

I can’t really put my finger on when I started to be a fan of spicy food but as far as I can remember, it started in my early adult years. Actually, the more I think about it, my contempt for bland food began in the Army which led me to dowse everything with Tabasco. Since then I have ventured far up the Scoville unit scale , turning Tabasco from what used to be a heated nasal enema to mere sprinkles on a sunday.  My stomach can probably break down a twelve gauge shotgun shell with little more than a hiccup and taps to the chest.  But with this found glory of dastardly concoctions comes a lonely road where no one wants to eat everything I cook for fear of  reenacting a Bean-O commercial. I get it. Then there is Halloween with parties and I see a chance to disguise my love as a gimmicky party-food novelty. Oh I have sights for them to see. Let me teach you how to make the Devil’s pizza or how it has come to be known: Hate Pizza.

Okay. First off you need pre-made pizza crust (preferably thin) and coat it in extra virgin olive oil. I, myself, am very particular about the kind of EVOO but in reality it doesn’t matter for this particular pizza. Also, I didn’t make my own crust because when people are eating this they aren’t going to comment about how amazing the crust is but rather wonder if hitting their mouths with a hammer would reduce the burn.

You will also notice those attractive orange peppers known as habaneros. Yes, they are powerful and each one can ruin a night depending on your palate. I add eight of these lovelies and before we mince, I take off the stems because…people eat will eat this you know.

I load up all eight into the ol’ SlapChop and pound the bajeebus out of them until they are finely minced. Also, I add six garlic…things. You know, the whole pieces off the clove? You know what I mean.

That looks pretty inviting, don’t you think? Actually, right after I took this picture the mixture of the over ripe garlic and habaneros combined to almost knock me over. My eyes and nasal passages took a time out and I had to go outside and blindly pace the yard, hoping insult to injury wouldn’t result in dog poop on the shoes.

The sauce. Any good chef knows the magic of a good pie rests in the sauce. I prefer Don Pepino to Ragu sauce. Actually I prefer motor oil to Ragu but that is letting my snippy side out. You will notice that only about 1/4 of the can is used. “But Will”, you ask, “how will only 1/4 of a can of pizza sauce be enough to cover the whole pizza crust?” Good question!

Because I am adding a whole blammin’ jar of super hot Sriracha Hoy Fu Kong sauce! And it is amazing! If you have never been to a Vietnamese restaurant and had Pho or any other dish you are missing out. This is where I fell in love with Sriracha and have been looking for a good cross-dish. And sista’, I have found my medium.

While applying the sauce to the pre-made crust I thought making a devil face would be appropriate. All it ended up looking like was a frog. But it’s an EVIL frog!

We are almost there. At this point the oven is preheating to 475. A whole medium size bag of shredded mozzarella is evenly spread over the pie and the habaneros and garlic follow.  But we aren’t quite done yet.

It’s said Lucifer comes as an attractive and friendly character. Slicing one jalapeno, make a smiley face. It’s as if it is saying, “It’s okay. If you don’t like hot foods, you can take off my eyes. Everything will be alright.”

Let’s bake this bitch! The oven is all preheated and I turn the temp from 475 to 425. The average bake time is between 10 to 13 minutes. Maybe different if you are baking this on Mt. Everest. While this bakes, decontaminate everything! The seeds from one habanero can cause the dog to create a family historical event like “The 2011 Ass-plosion Dog/Couch Event”. You need to wash your hands and scrub under the fingernails. Being a spicy food fanatic, there has been many forgetful pee breaks resulting in…milk. I’ll leave it at that.

Those few minutes pass fast and before you know it the house is filled with the aroma of pain. This looks pretty inviting, don’t you think? It’s funny to think this is a vegetarian friendly pie. In my mind, vegetarians always seem so sweet.  This must be angry lefty anarchist type of veggie friendly food.

Well, I wouldn’t recommend this for a just any occasion. It’s Halloween and parties need to have one or two novelty food items. This is fun for bets or to show off who can brave a bite of the hottest pizza around. Or, if you have no soul, this Hate Pizza an be used for revenge. Because revenge doesn’t always have to be a dish best served cold.

Happy Halloween.

EDIT!

Apparently people didn’t hate the “Hate Pizza”. A bunch of crazy assholes, says me!

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Battle of the Paranormal Shows. We Have a Winner!

What the hell is going on with so many shows about ghosts and the paranormal lately? There are literally twenty shows that have some sort of investigative or first-person account of ghosts and hauntings right now in production. Actually, I bet I am low-balling that number. For the most part, I am pretty happy about these programs because, who doesn’t like a spooky tale this time of the year? There is nothing I like more than to get settled on the couch with a glass of brew, turn on a show that is mostly in night vision and learn about the history of an old inn or dilapidated hospital. To me, they are almost like history programs and the pay off of ghostly evidence is just a bonus. But of all these shows, there is only one that truly creeps me out. My Ghost Story.

You had me at "Warning".

Recently I have learned that the Bio Channel is not Lifetime. Honestly, I assumed Lifetime, WE, Bravo and the Bio Channel were all the same. Just since this past September did I learn that the Bio Channel is the deliverer of all things down right scary and it is because of the show My Ghost Story. Right away this program separates itself from the ridiculously dressed Ed Hardy figure, Zak Bagans of Ghost Adventures and the painfully boring Ghost Hunters, with words that will make me miss my mouth when playing a game of Cheez-it catch like “disturbing”. And you know what? A few of these episodes are a little disturbing.

I think what separates this show from all other types of paranormal shows are the real photographs and videos. I mean, take it for what it is. Any of this could be fake but after watching a few of these episodes I am hard pressed to believe that every one is a hoax.

The show has the real people telling you their experiences without actors or drawn out reenactments. There is no narrator or host but rather a simple text explaining who these people are and after their story, what the present situation is. More than not, their situation never gets better. I know this is selfish, but I like it better that way. Such a dick I am! The whole show has creepy ambiance that one can’t help but look over one’s shoulder, try not to peer at the dark windows and keep a close ear for any noises from upstairs. I am not going to lie, this show has been in my mind when the dog has to pee at 2am.

So, with so many paranormal shows out there, why is this the one that makes me want to sleep with rosary beads? I think it is a combination of the first-person accounts with the witnesses and tangible evidence. The tales, whether true or not, are just unnerving. It seems that all the “ghost chaser” shows like Ghost Adventures and Ghost Hunters, there is too much emphasis on the crew and the spooky feeling is completely lost.  Lately, these shows are ether tear jerkingly boring or laughably idiotic. My Ghost Story may not make you a believer but I promise you, next time you are in a basement alone,you’ll want to stay away from the mirrors!

If you want to watch this, and I suggest you do, it airs pretty often on the Biography channel. Actually, this coming Saturday a whole new season starts. But if you can’t wait and want to know what I am talking about, there are full episodes on YouTube.

I love you YouTube. I like pina coladas and getting drunk in the rain. I am not into yoga and I have half a brain. Please marry me.

BONUS!

Here is another review from the Dundee Seasonal Pack. This time I try the porter and chat about my favorite horror selection for Halloween. Please excuse the babbling.

My finger looks like a ghost. Wait a minute…

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Oh This Movie…

It’s not a little known fact that in the 1970’s the horror movie genre really focused on the Devil and all things Catholic, with a battle for the soul. Capstone by the academy award winning movie, The Exorcist, many films decided to ride the coattails of the success and a few New York Times best selling occult books became films. One of these films really slipped the spotlight but a revisit to it shows that just because you aren’t mainstream doesn’t mean you aren’t a winner. Even if if you are a taboo Satan-filled-lesbo-cake-eating-cat-from-Hell-Christopher Walken-minor-role-need-to-go-to-church-after-watching movie. Let us look at The Sentinel.

Now, I am not going to talk about every scene of the movie because you can just type “Netflix” in the browser and watch the movie if you are a member because it is on streaming. But what I will do is give you a brief synopsis, a highlight on some of the greatest actors in this loaded cast, some real “WTF” moments and above all, a look at the climax in a “you can’t do that on TV” scene. Seriously, you really can’t.

We begin with a quick shot at the Vatican as we meet what is, I guess, a select group of priests and we learn that there is a disturbance in the Force. The Force being all things Catholic and good. It’s not a strange beginning to this kind of film because most religious horror movies begin in another country just to show that what might happen in a familiar setting really has a global impact. Or at least traced from a really old place. Jumping to NY!

Think Fast Frisbee!

Here we are in New York as we meet the main characters of the film, Alison (Christina Raines) and Micheal (my favorite 1980’s horror icon, Chris Sarandon). Alison is a famous model as we can see because she is strikingly beautiful and her boyfriend, Micheal is a shrewd lawyer. Of course. They seem to have a happy relationship but only after a series of rocky starts since Micheal was married when they began their fling resulting is a separation from his wife. Via her death. Coincidence? Also, I should mention, Alison came from a not-so-normal childhood and attempted suicide a few times leaving her dependent on anti-depressants. Just throwing that out there.

So, we find out that Alison wants a place of her own for a while since she has been living with Micheal after his wife’s death. Seems like a plan. And that is where we find out that there are forces at work, drawing her to an apartment with a destiny of preconceived notions. (I don’t think that statement means anything.) She is drawn to a place that has both good and evil in it and there is about to be a battle for her. Better? But, that is temporarily postponed when she finds out her father is dying and she goes home to say goodbye and have a flashback or two.

Love that medicine has improved from the 70's!

We see that her father dies and we get a great glimpse of the father he used to be as she flashes back to her teenage years and brother, he was a fucked up unit. She walks in on him naked and in bed with two women and they are eating cake. And laughing. One is fat and the other is rather off her rocker and neither one minds old guy smell and old balls apparently.

Trust me, these boobs aren't worth seeing.

After her father sees her, in a frosting induced furry, he smacks her and really puts all 92lbs behind it. She takes off down the hall and after witnessing that mess, she cuts her wrists and then we flash-forward. Apparently she survived.

Well, after her father is dead and gone she comes back to occupy her residence and is met by none other than Charles Chazen (Burgess Meredith) playing a more devious but quite cavalier gentleman than Rocky’s coach. He invites himself in and introduces his bird, Mortimer, and his cat, Jezebel. This scene reminds me of when Yoda meets Luke for the first time inThe Empire Strikes Back. He’s a quirky guy but you know there is more to him than what he is representing.

Well, after excusing himself he exits, leaving behind a framed photograph of himself. (I find this classy and plan on doing that myself.) But if you think he is a strange neighbor then you gotta meet the two chicks that live below her. Gerde (Sylvia Miles) and Sandra (Beverly D’ Angelo) are two…odd lesbian ballerinas? I think? Anyway, after a brief introduction, Alison learns that Sandra is a mute and unable to talk. Gerde leaves the room to get tea and then this happens…

Claaark! Slow down!!!

This awkward  masturbation scene was both funny and a tad out there. Trying to regain composure, Alison makes an attempt to be conversational but when she asks what they do, Gerde says matter of factly, they fondle eachother. HEYOOO! Alison bolts.

Didn’t I say that I wasn’t going to do a play by play of this movie? Damn. Okay, I will be a little more brief.

Soon the apartment begins to take a toll on her as her fainting spells and headaches become increasingly worse. At night she has reoccurring nightmares and is awaken to her chandelier swinging by upstairs disturbances though it has been vacant for years. All spooky. Though her neighbors seem friendly, especially inviting her to a birthday party for Jezabel the cat, her dreams warn her that something isn’t quite right. “Black and white cake; Black and white cat.” I actually didn’t get that reference. Nevermind. Skip to a scary night.

Alison is again having a tough time sleeping in her new apartment and finally, she gets up and armed with a kitchen knife and a torch she ventures off to see what is going on. And she finds out!

While she is investigating, wouldn’t you know it, her light burns out. That always happens! Especially when a zombie in a diaper robotic-ly  walks past you and stops, facing the wall. This is horror to me! It’s a real “what the fuck just happened” scene. There is no jump scare or some creature attacking Alison. It’s as if she isn’t there and this thing has no real destination. It just mechanically walks from one side of the room to the next! UGH!

Well, curiosity gets the best of Alison and she approaches the remote control Gobot-that-hit-a-wall slowly asking who or what this thing is. You know who?

BAH! It’s her dead father! Alison laughs and gives him a huge hug. It’s very touching.

I’m just kidding. She screams and goes stabby on him, cutting off his nose and all. Bolting, she runs out of the apartment and collapses as people gather around her and call 911.

Jump scene! We are at the hospital.

Oh yeah, remember her boyfriend, Micheal? He is there and being interrogated by police since his new girlfriend is stating she stabbed her dead father and he is still under suspicion for wife’s death. But being the cunning lawyer he is, he gives no details to the investigators even though they coincidentally have a body that fit the description to the havoc Alison said she caused with a knife. This has two great things in that scene; a very young Christopher Walken and the lead investigator’s tie is as wide as it is long.

Micheal starts a little investigation of his own because he believes that there is something more sinister at work after he and Alison visit her apartment to retrace the moments when she stabbed her dead father. But nothing really makes sense to Micheal and after she writes in Latin from a book he reads to be in English, he is convinced the old recluse priest that is on the top floor of the Apartment may know something.

Oh yeah, there is a blind priest that is on the top floor that stares out the window all day. Well, he is seen at the window. That’s an important part. (God, I’m not very good at these)

With no luck getting into the apartment to talk with the recluse priest and even less luck from the Archdioceses, he decides to take matters into his own hands and calls up an old buddy to break in and steal the file on this priest.

THE BLESSING!

Well, in a hurried fashion and better conclusive skills than Velma from Scooby Do, Micheal figured out that all the people who live there have tried to commit suicide at one time in their life and each converted to the Catholic church and reside as a sentinel. And Alison is targeted to be next! No shit!

Armed with a gun, Micheal leaves Alison at a party, though she feels awful, and heads off to stop this rite of…sentinel-passing. When he arrives he sees a split in the wood on the wall and decides to bust it open. Not really sure why. But underneath is a sign straight out of Dante’s Divine Comedy. And sneaking up on him is…

Thank God we haven't invented smell-a-screen yet

…Father Freaky! Yes, the priest tells Micheal this is the gateway to Hell and as random as he came in, he leaves which pisses Micheal off. In a murderous rage, Micheal chokes the priest after he fails to answer his questions. But, little did Micheal count on there being two priests in the room. The other armed with a cement statue. Never expect murder from a priest. Hmmm.

Enter Alison. Of course she returns. She comes back to the apartment only to find Micheal…acting a bit strange. Almost instantaneously Alison knows Micheal isn’t himself. No, he begins to explain how he is damned to Hell because he killed his wife and that she is required to commit suicide and release the gates of Hell. It’s a stretch but that’s what is required.

No, there aren't strings attached to his makeup! What are you talking about?

Now this is the part that separates this movie from all other horror movies. You will never see this again in cinema for a few different reasons. 1: Special effects are much more realistic 2: Plastic surgery is quite advanced since the 1970’s and 3: this would never ever never ever fly with the FCC or any other super PC group. This is as fucked up as cinema gets.

So, Alison runs from decaying Micheal and meets the debonair Charels Chazen who is far less warm and goofy and a tad more…the Devil. He explains that she needs to finish her suicide and become apart of them. Not hearing the noise, Alison turns to run but is met by this…

and this…

and this…

Yes folks, they used real deformed people in the casting for The Sentinel. It is pretty crazy to think that there was an add for extras needing physical deformities to play the role of demons from Hell. This creeps me out to now end. It’s the kind of creep out that makes me want to shower or watch Nickelodeon to counterbalance my “ick” factor.

Well, long story short she is saved by the priests and she takes up the cross as the dominions from Hell shirk back to the abyss from which they came.

This movie is an old favorite of mine. I’m not really sure why? The plot is scattered, the setting seems to be hollow and the lead actress never really makes you care for her outcome. But there is this  1970’s high production feel that I love in horror movies from that time. That fast-paced city life that every-so-often rubs elbows with midevil beliefs and tears at the fabric to what is more important; sanity or soul. Like Matt said. I give it a B+ out of 17.

The End

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