Survival of the Dead: Is it Really that Bad?
How bad is Survival of the Dead? If you make the rounds among the various horror blogs, genre podcasts and sit in on the discussion panels at the various fan conventions around North America, you’d think that Survival rank up there with the AIDS virus and 9-11 as scourges inflicted on humanity. Or is that just a bunch of hyperbole, like the second sentence of this paragraph? I’m not surprised that some people don’t like the movie. We all have different likes and dislikes. Some people are bound to like it and others not so much, with more people falling somewhere in between. What has surprised me is the emotional intensity of those who didn’t like it, which has gone beyond panning it as a sub par film, venturing more into taking it as a personal insult. Is Survival of the Dead really that bad?
War-Gods of the Deep
A good title can sometimes sell the book or movie. Take War-Gods of the Deep, for example. That is a seriously awesome title. It conjures up images both sensational and cheesy. “There isn’t going to be a lot of subtly here,” The Title says, “There will be some hammy acting, an attractive woman in a low-cut dress, and some corny monsters with rubber masks.” Okay. This might work. The Title has my attention. It just needs a little something to put me over the edge. Oh, ho! It stars Vincent Price! I’m in. I can almost hear The Title laughing to itself, “Bwah-hah-hah, I’ve hooked another one!”
Necrosis
Pre-ramble:
I was rummaging around in the pantry off the galley, you know, looking for a snack to go with the movie I’m about to review. After sorting through the cans of green beans and boxes of crackers for a while I came across some old cook books hidden behind a bag of Baked Doritos: Dining with Titus Adronicus, How to Serve Man, Mrs. Lovett’s Big Book of Pies and The Donner Family Cookbook. I don’t remember buying those, so I’m a bit worried. Also my evil sidekick, Julian Lizard, has been acting a little strange lately. Say, you don’t think . . . He’s not planning to . . . Nah!
I’ll just pop in a movie. That should take my mind far from my suspicions. Oh yeah! Necrosis. That’s the ticket.
The Legend of Ol’ Goldie
Short Review:
Childhood can be rough. As adults we like to think that children live in a magical, saccharine Disney-esque world, full of singing bunnies, wonder and magic. This idea is a new one, historically speaking, fostered by the purveyors of Happy Meals and children’s entertainment. In reality, children live in a world of horror and loneliness, just like the rest of us. We may not admit it, but subconsciously we all know. Oh, we try to cheer them with sugary breakfast cereal shaped like Shrek or a shiny new bike made by other children in a Chinese sweatshop. We want to lighten the pain, though we cruelly denying them the alcoholic beverages and pills that make adult life tolerable.
The Burrowers
Pre-ramble:
One day, many years ago, when Captain Midnight was just a small child, I met a girl at sandbox in the park. She was like many little girls, a bit of a bossy know-it-all. As she was probably a whole year older than I, so I figured she was somebody I’d better listen to. Listen I did. She told me some pretty horrendous tales, including one about the Devil. She told me that the Devil lived underground. That seemed reasonable to me. I knew there was a devil. I’d seen him in movies. He had to live somewhere, right? Why not underground? Still, I wasn’t a total sucker. I wanted proof. She said that if I buried something and came back to dig it up later it might be gone. If it was gone, it was because the Devil took it. So we buried a marble in the sandbox. The next day she and I tried to dig up the marble but never found it. A cold chill went up my spine. The Devil had my favorite aggie! Still, I could console myself with the fact that, Prince of Darkness or not, at least he wouldn’t eat me.