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Hollows Grove: Movie Review

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Synopsis:
A group of charlatan ghost hunters head to a haunted orphanage to record an episode of their show, S.P.I.T. (Spirit Paranormal Investigation Team)  They allow a friend along to document their process, and end up talking about how they fake everything.  I have no idea why they do this.  Anyway, the orphanage turns out to actually be haunted and terrible things happen to this crew.

Thoughts:
The movie opens with Mykelti Williamson as director of the FBI, very seriously stating how these tapes we’re about to watch were found at a crime scene, and how watching them means we’re part of the investigation, and yada yada.  It was so sincere and ridiculous that I just had to laugh.  Having a recognizable actor open the movie in that way made it even worse.  There was no possibility of suspending disbelief.  If I’m going to watch a found footage movie, I need to buy in that the events could possibly be real.  Seeing Bubba Blue sit on a desk and tell me he’s with the FBI does not allow me to do that.

hollows-grove-timThen we get to meet our ghost hunters.  And they’re terrible people.  Just the worst.  They’re fronted by Tim, who has one of the smuggest faces I’ve ever seen (which is odd, seeing as how he is played by Heed from So I Married an Axe Murderer).  His right hand man – Roger – is a screaming ball of misogynist comments and terrible jokes, wrapped up in a man who has entirely too high an opinion of himself.  Chad is also there.  He is tall and blonde.  Their producer – Julie – somehow sticks around even though Tim and Roger can’t stop saying terrible things to her.  But I’m sure the paycheck for S.P.I.T. is more than worth it (there is no way this is true).

hollows-grove-groupHarold is following them around with a camera and seems legitimately shocked that their “hauntings” are merely tricks to make it look like things are moving.  At the helm of these tricks is Bill, played by the great Lance Henricksen.  Have you ever wanted to see Henricksen’s hind quarters and part of his balls?  Spoiler alert: you totally see all of that.

Don’t smile at me like that, Lance. I’ve seen too much.

The S.P.I.T. show itself is horrendous.  The awful script was only outdone by the awful performances.  Everything was said with a dead-serious tone, while puns flew around like hotcakes.  (Flying hotcakes, I guess?)  I tried to imagine what it would be like to actually watch the show, and I ended up throwing items at my TV.

hollows-grove-hallwayAll that said…I think I kind of liked it.

This movie was not breaking any ground.  It’s essentially the same movie as Grave Encounters, with a bit of The Last Exorcism thrown in.

I mentioned how the characters were insufferable, but that’s really just an old slasher trick.  Create a cast of unlikable characters so you don’t feel bad when they are killed.  And it worked.  (To be fair, Tim and Roger were the only two I was actively rooting for to die.)  Every time the lights flickered or there was a loud noise, I kept saying, “Please let Tim and Roger die soon.”  I was basically Rob Corddry waiting for Crispin Glover’s arm to be severed in Hot Tub Time Machine.  “This is it.  THIS IS IT!  Oh…false alarm.  Just do it already, ghosts.”

Drop the hammer, ghosts. DROP THE HAMMER.
Drop the hammer, ghosts. DROP THE HAMMER.

The set-up dragged a bit, especially since we all know exactly where this movie was heading.  The ghosts – including the ghost of a psychotic orphan known for slitting throats – were real and the crew would be trapped inside to be taunted and killed.  But not before being haunted for hours.  Soooo much haunting, you guys.

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Even though I knew where it was heading, the payoff was still fun.  Once all hell started to break loose, I had a good time.  One member of the crew got possessed in a fairly confusing manner and decided murder would be fun.  Other members of the crew ended up running aimlessly through the abandoned orphanage, saying nonsensical things like, “Let’s run to the roof to escape,” without any clear plan of what they would do if they were to actually reach the roof.  Doors that were once locked became unlocked, and they ran into them to escape the ghosts in the hallway, not thinking there may be ghosts behind the locked doors as well.  Panic and fear do terrible things to people.  For these people, it caused them to make terrible decisions.
Ultimately, it didn’t matter.  Stay in the hall.  Go into a previously locked room.  Run to the roof.  Run to the ground floor.  Their fate was sealed.  Otherwise, the very official FBI agent wouldn’t be presenting us with the tapes in the first place.

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As you can tell, this is by no means a great movie.  It’s not even a very good one.  But it can be enjoyable if you go into it with the right frame of mind.  Know that the characters are terrible people, but also know that they will die soon.  Know that the beginning is a bit slow, but also know that it will pick up.  And, again, that they will die.

Rating: 2/5

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Breakfast: Trailer Talk

Do you all remember Dinner? The short film about Dylan and her monster-kicking habits? Well…Dylan is back. Behold, the trailer for Breakfast!

Like Dinner, it looks like a no-budget monster romp written and directed by Aleksandra Svetlichnaya (who plays Dylan). “It’s not a sequel,” it promises. “It’s the next course.”

This appears to follow two men who find an unfinished comic and – I assume – unwittingly start the zombie apocalypse. I get it, guys. We were all young once.

Keep an eye out for Breakfast. I know I can’t wait to see it.

 

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The Legend of Sam-El Caan

His name is Sam-El Caan, and he was once worshiped as a god.  In some countries, he may still be.  He was more a demon than a god, but no one knows exactly how he came into being.  He was “put to sleep” by a small group of monks at some point in the 1400s, and his eyes have not opened since.  He was buried deep beneath the ground in an unmarked field in the middle of Kentucky.  The original plan was to dismember his body and scatter him across the world, but the instructions were very clear: he must be kept in one piece, his right hand clutched around a ruby.  The ancient text was vague in many things but very clear in this.

And so he slept.  As the world changed around him, he slept.  For centuries, someone had kept an eye on his resting place, guarding against any attempts to resurrect him.  As time went on, the horrors were forgotten and duties were thrown by the wayside.  The guard had gone, but Sam-El Caan remained buried in the dirt.

Sam-El Caan stood 25 feet tall.  His head resembled a pumpkin and his face was carved in the manner of a jack-o-lantern.  He spoke in a deep, resounding voice.  His body was thin, strong and gnarled, like the branches of a very old tree.  His feet were wide and the ground shook when he walked.  He was an imposing figure, but he was now trapped underground in a seemingly endless sleep.

But it was not as endless as it appeared.

The ancient texts were incomplete.  One of the missing pages stated that he would be awoken on Halloween night, 2016.  When the clock struck midnight, he would be free to roam the Earth once more.

As distant chimes rang, Sam-El Caan’s eyes regained their glow.  He did not know where he was, but he could sense his domain calling for him.  He began digging upwards towards the surface, ready to reclaim the world that he felt was rightfully his.

He emerged into the darkness of a dim crescent moon and howled as best as he could, but centuries of being buried in dirt meant his howl wasn’t what it once was.  No matter.  He would regain his full strength soon enough and this new world would be his.  He was hoping he would emerge to find a full moon – the light from that moon restoring his powers – but that was a couple weeks away.  He would retreat into the woods to wait, and when he emerged he would not be stopped.  Not this time.  Surely the ancient text had been lost a very long time ago.

He stepped into the forest in search of dark place to sit for two weeks.  What he found were a couple of teens dressed like wizards, smoking some kind of small white object.  At the sight of him, they stood up and stumbled backwards.

Sam-El Caan’s eyes glowed red as he advanced on the teens.  When he spoke, it was in his native dialect.  It was deep and filled with all the rage that had been slowing building over the course of hundreds of years.  “HOW DARE YOU LOOK UPON SAM-EL CAAN.  MY RETRIBUTION WILL BE QUICK AND COMPLETE AND IT WILL START WITH YOU.”

One of the teens had regained his bearings.  He picked up a rock and hurled it at Sam-El Caan’s face.  It entered his left eye and exited through the back of his head, causing an explosion of gooey orange viscera.

The light left Sam-El Caan’s eyes.  He stumbled and fell, exploding into thousands of twigs and what appeared to be the emptied shell of a rotten pumpkin.

The teens looked briefly stunned, then laughed and continued on with their night, the corpse of the once great Sam-El Caan lying beneath their feet.


 

Happy Halloween!

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Diary of a Slasher: Entry 2

True to my word, I headed out the next day.  To watch.  Certainly some vile things were happening; not every person at church camp was there to study the Bible.  Some of them had to be pursuing some extracurricular activities.  No group of teenagers ass all good.  All I needed was one frisky couple and I’d be set.
Listen.  I’ve been doing this a long time and discovered one ironclad rule of the universe: if you put a group of kids in their late-teens/early-twenties in a secluded location, there will be sex.  Always.

Sure enough, I spotted a couple heading off to a cabin.  They appeared to be looking around to see if anyone was watching them.  Maybe that was my imagination – that I wanted them to be doing something they knew they shouldn’t be – but I don’t think that was the case.  Under the cover of the forest, I followed.  They opened the door, giggled, and went inside.

Showtime.

I like to wait until their moment has passed, then strike when one of them has gotten up.  I’ll kill the one still in bed, wait for the other one to return, then kill them while they’re in shock.  It’s a well-used method and it has served me well.

The cabin was raised up a bit, so I was able to lurk below the window without them detecting me.  It wasn’t long before I heard the familiar sounds: muffled voices and a couple proclamations of “Oh God.”
They stayed in bed for a while afterwards.  I could hear their voices talking, but I couldn’t make out the words.  Eventually I heard the familiar sound of old bed springs squeaking as one of them exited the bed.  I expertly navigated the back steps – careful to miss the spots that would make noise – and pushed open the back door (I had applied WD-40 to all the hinges before their arrival: never let it be said that I lack preparation).

The boy was still in bed.  He was sitting up with his back to me.  I thought it was odd that he was fully dressed, but it didn’t change what I needed to do.  I raised my axe and put it through his head with one fell swoop.  It was then I looked down and noticed what was sitting on his lap: a Bible.  They weren’t having sex: they were having a secret Bible study.  The proclamations of “Oh God,” were shouted out in prayer.

I couldn’t believe it.  How could this be?

As I stood there in shock, the girl came out of the bathroom.  Like the boy, she was fully clothed.  She looked at me and opened her mouth to scream.  With one step I crossed the room and put my axe through her mouth.

I stood there, looking at the scene.  It was clear what they were doing in here, but I couldn’t let this get out.  I’d never live it down.  So I did what any killer would do in my situation: I undressed both of them, took a picture and sent it along to my text thread of other killers.  “Guess they weren’t so pious after all,” I wrote.  I would have felt bad about it, but my soul left me when I died, so it didn’t bother me.

Then came the clean up.  I wasn’t ready to alert the rest of the campers to my presence, so I put the two “love birds” in bed and covered them with a blanket.  With no mop in the cabin, I grabbed a brush, got on my knees and started scrubbing up the blood.  I wondered if Jason Voorhees had ever pulled a stunt like this, and I came to the conclusion that he probably had at some point in his career.

With my first kill out of the way, it was now time to hit the others.  Church camp be damned, I would take all of them out.


 

You can read Part 1 here.

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Transmissions from ScareFest 9: Part II

You can read Part I here.

I had accomplished what I wanted to accomplish during my first day at ScareFest.  I bought a couple t-shirts (a Stab shirt for me, a Monster Squad shirt for the munchkin), Elizabeth Fields’ new book, and a couple other random items.  My goal for Day 2 was clear: take pictures, strike up random conversations and look for stories.  This was always my favorite part of going to conventions, but this was the first convention I would be able to devote a whole day to it.

So off I went in search of adventure, beauty and immaculately dressed people performing everyday tasks.  Onward and upward!

What follows is, more or less, a photo journal of my time as I walked the floor, accompanied by entirely too many words by me.  I’m the worst.

img_9137I encountered this gentleman (gentlemonster?) before I even arrived on the floor.  I knew then that it would be a very good day.

img_9120 img_9139This guy spent the entire time in his booth, painting and talking to anyone who came up to him.  He was gracious and kind and had a true passion and I loved him.

img_9140I can’t decide which I love more: the dead, sad eyes or the Crocs.
Okay I can.  It’s the Crocs.  It’s always the Crocs.
Is it because they match his gloves?  Is it because those Crocs seem like terrible shoes to wear in a butcher shop?  I don’t really know, I just know that I love them.

Let’s get a better look at that bad boy, taken slightly later in the day:

img_9225From the time I took the first picture to the time I took this one, he had changed his mask and his weapon.  I really want to know how that conversation went with the TSA.

“Oh…that?  That’s my second pig head.  Yes, that’s correct sir.”

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Oh, hey there little guy.  You looking for your mom?

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GET AWAY!  GET AWAY!

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“Excuse me. Do you have directions…TO HELL?  MUWHAHAHAHAHA!
Or, like, Pizza Hut or whatever?”

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I have no idea what this was, but I’m pretty sure it has my soul now.

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This girl is with a group called Circus Envy and The Deadly Sins.  They’re always set up in the same place.  I love the look of their “booth.”  Here it is without anyone present:

img_9118It’s a great look, and everyone involved is extremely friendly.  You can often find them milling around the floor interacting with people.  I love them.

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Speaking of milling around interacting with people, here are a couple of the girls stopping in for a photo op with Ash and Ace Ventura (twin brothers whom I have seen at multiple conventions).  The table they’re sitting at is from the dream sequence in Rob Zombie’s Halloween II.
To break this down: we have Ash Williams, Ace Ventura and two vampire girls hanging out with a prop from a Rob Zombie movie.

When people ask me why I love conventions, I point to moments like this.

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Join me as I gaze upon the head of Pamela Voorhees.

 

img_9153It’s like someone took Pinhead’s face and created a poorly constructed mask from the loose skin.

img_9156I’ve seen these guys at a number of conventions and they always make me laugh.  The mask must be impossible to see out of, because Bloody Lab Coat Man has to lead around Leopard Head by the arm the entire time.

I noticed something this time I hadn’t noticed before: Leopard Head is wearing a name tag.

img_9156-copyHis name is Purrcival Stroppington.  How perfect is that?!  I love him completely.
Also, his mouth moves when he talks or growls or whatever a man/cat hybrid does.

img_9159I have never seen the movie Hocus Pocus – leave me alone – but I know these outfits were spot-on.

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Wolf Run – a great wildlife refuge in Kentucky – was there. For $25 you could get your picture taken with a real wolf. Here is the wolf, hanging out with his best friend: Freya, the frightened fox.

YOU GUYS! They’re best friends and they’re snuggling and this may have been the best thing at the convention.

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Valak was there, attempting to eat the souls of babies. Like demons do. Let’s get a closer look…

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I’m glad Lorraine Warren carved your name in her Bible. And brush your teeth.

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Theirs is a beautiful friendship. They will also kill you if you come within 5 feet of them.

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This guy was there the entire time I was. Armed with a couple different horns, he walked the floor with one goal: to scare unsuspecting victims. He scared a great many people while he was there.

However, the horns were loud and the floor was open, so you could always tell where he was. If you paid attention, you could avoid ever jumping in the air with fright. He still got a lot of people, but, by the end of the second day, people were getting wise to his antics.

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Sorry buddy. You’re not scaring this girl.
This is one of my favorite pictures from the weekend.

img_9178This blurry Bigfoot looking clown is named Calypso. When he wasn’t walking around on stilts with an air cannon, he was walking around with huge box strapped to him. When he opened it up, a severed head on a spring would come shooting out of it.

I ended up talking to him for about 15 minutes about why he does what he does. He talked about the need to read people. “If I start walking up and notice someone looking a little uncomfortable, I’ll just get someone else.” During non-convention times, he dresses up as a non-murdery clown and does a lot of kids birthday parties. It was an extremely enlightening conversation.

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I don’t think he really was a “Camp Clownseler,” but I wasn’t going to ask him.

img_9192I took this picture, then watched as the both of them became a cloud of mist and slowly drifted away.

img_9195DEMON SELFIE!

I have a feeling his demonic brethren would frown upon such actions, but it’s a new age. Perhaps these actions are now celebrated in the pits of Hell. Who am I to judge?

img_9196I didn’t actually ask him if he went by “Preddy Krueger,” but I assume he does.

img_9198This made me laugh entirely too hard.

Hey. Since we’re on the topic of Matthew Lillard…

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Here he is sharing a laugh with one of the members of GWAR.

You can’t really see it here, but his shirt says “Clive Barker Rules,” in the same style as the iconic “Stephen King Rules” shirt from The Monster Squad.

monster-squad-stephen-king-rulesAs it so happens, I was wearing my “Stephen King Rules” shirt that day. When I passed Matthew Lillard on the floor later that day, we made eye contact, gave a little nod then fist-bumped. I’m not an expert, but I’m pretty sure that means we’re best friends now.

The point of this story is that Matthew Lillard is awesome and I love him.

One of my favorite things on this day was spotting the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man towering over the masses in random areas.

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img_9270 img_9242 img_9243 img_9259And now witness the time Stay Puft terrorized Camp Crystal Lake.

img_9244 img_9245 img_9247 img_9249No matter who wins, we lose.

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I was particularly proud of this shot. Got down on the ground to take it and everything, like a real photographer.
Then I remembered that a ton of people walked through that area, a lot of them likely with terrible, unspeakable things on the bottom of their shoes. I burned my clothes as soon as I got home.

img_9226Sometimes you’re in GWAR, but you also get a little lonely and thirsty.

img_9241What’s that? Just Courtney Gains taking a selfie with Ash Williams.

This is where I remind you that The Burbs is one of my all-time favorite movies, so I absolutely love Courtney Gains. This picture makes me happy.

img_9277This picture of Amy Steel and Harry Manfredini walking around like old friends made me smile like an idiot. I think that’s why Amy is giving me that look: I’m pretty sure I was giggling when I took this.

img_9276This guy had one of my favorite costumes of the weekend. I don’t know what it was about it, but his entire look was terrific. I must have passed these people a thousand times and I liked his costume a little more every time I saw them.

img_9282Oh ScareFest. Never change.

img_9283After going to conventions over the past few years, I can honestly say that, while this isn’t the best Blade I’ve seen, it is still a very good Blade.
I love that I can have absolute opinions on these things.

img_9290I’m pretty sure these kinds had weapons on them. They weren’t messing around.

img_9298This is the last known image of Sexy Stay Puft and Son of Ernest. I hope you find peace in the next life.