Footage: Bigfoot Sighting in Payson Canyon, Utah

Advertisements

IT 2017 (aka. Everyone’s a Critic)

IMG_3313

All hail the turtle…?

Sadly, not since 1986. But IT 2017 is still a very good film.

(In my opinion, there are no real spoilers here; that being said, please read at your own risk.)

I give IT, the new film version of Stephen King’s book, a solid B+. Had I been able to see both chapters in the “duology” at once, I might have been able to hump that score up a notch. I’ll admit to wanting to let that B+ inch its way toward A- on the merit of the acting from a few of the kid actors in it, and the digital monster effects on not just the clown but the other things that went bump in the Derry night. I do not like the new Well house concept. And I dislike some changes at the storm drain and in the homophobic hate crime at the canal in Ch 2 in the book, the concept of which was changed: and the terror of which was diluted in the new film.

Skarsgaard beats Curry at the storm drain and in many other places. Curry was just too Uncle Charlie the Molester for me in a literal interpretation of King’s Pennywise as a “Hi Georgie!”-weird-uncle-takes-you-to-Coney-Island-for-hot-dogs-then-fondles-you-on-the-ferris-wheel-while-listening-to-the-Dodgers-on-a-handheld-transistor-radio brogue that I absolutely loathe. Curry won though in places for his mockery of the kids and his zaniness that bordered on insanity. Think the ending of the 80s film Clue.

The 90s TV series like many series made in the 80s and 90s of King’s books, suffers from horrible corniness. The 90s series’ dialogue was truer to the book than that of the new film, which I like, but I’m not sure that matters much in the end (Kee-rect?). Some of the kid actors stole the show like Eddie and the “fuck this, fuck you, fuck that!” kid with the bottle-thick glasses. The absence of adult characters was a bit Hannah Montana…but the scares were real scares.

The performance at the storm drain by Skarsgaard will be hard to match by any scene in any horror movie anytime ever. Absolutely chilling.

I may go see the new film again just for that scene. Or maybe I’ll wait until after I finish my reread of the novel in which King uses many Lovecraftian tropes (that do not appear in either film) which elevate the book to a cosmic-horror piece of art neither film has been able to match to date.

And that’s a shame.

My advice: Do King a solid and read his novel for the masterpiece of horror that it is. Reading is good for your brain, Georgie.

All hail the turtle…

IT — The Inspiration for the 1986 Novel by Stephen King

IMG_9771

IT: The Inspiration

by Stephen King

In 1978 my family was living in Boulder, Colorado. One day on our way back from lunch at a pizza emporium, our brand-new AMC Matador dropped its transmission-literally. The damn thing fell out on Pearl Street. True embarrassment is standing in the middle of a busy downtown street, grinning idiotically while people examine your marooned car and the large greasy black thing lying under it. Two days later the dealership called at about five in the afternoon. Everything was jake–I could pick up the car any time. The dealership was three miles away. I thought about calling a cab but decided that the walk would be good for me. The AMC dealership was in an industrial park set off by itself on a patch of otherwise deserted land a mile from the strip of fast-food joints and gas stations that mark the eastern edge of Boulder. A narrow unlit road led to this outpost. By the time I got to the road it was twilight–in the mountains the end of day comes in a hurry–and I was aware of how alone I was. About a quarter of a mile along this road was a wooden bridge, humped and oddly quaint, spanning a stream. I walked across it. I was wearing cowboy boots with rundown heels, and I was very aware of the sound they made on the boards; they sounded like a hollow clock. I thought of the fairy tale called “The Three Billy-Goats Gruff” and wondered what I would do if a troll called out from beneath me, “Who is trip-trapping upon my bridge?” All of a sudden I wanted to write a novel about a real troll under a real bridge. I stopped, thinking of a line by Marianne Moore, something about “real toads in imaginary gardens,” only it came out “real trolls in imaginary gardens.” A good idea is like a yo-yo–it may go to the end of its string, but it doesn’t die there; it only sleeps. Eventually it rolls back up into your palm. I forgot about the bridge and the troll in the business of picking up my car and signing the papers, but it came back to me off and on over the next two years. I decided that the bridge could be some sort of symbol–a point of passing. I started thinking of Bangor, where I had lived, with its strange canal bisecting the city, and decided that the bridge could be the city, if there was something under it. What’s under a city? Tunnels. Sewers. Ah! What a good place for a troll! Trolls should live in sewers! A year passed. The yo-yo stayed down at the end of its string, sleeping, and then it came back up. I started to remember Stratford, Connecticut, where I had lived for a time as a kid. In Stratford there was a library where the adult section and the children’s section was connected by a short corridor. I decided that the corridor was also a bridge, one across which every goat of a child must risk trip-trapping to become an adult. About six months later I thought of how such a story might be cast; how it might be possible to create a ricochet effect, interweaving the stories of children and the adults they become. Sometime in the summer of 1981 I realized that I had to write about the troll under the bridge or leave him–IT–forever.”

Source: Lijla’s Library; book cover artwork: tie-in to the 2017 film, IT.

Wanna Get to Know the World’s Greatest Horror Writer Better?

IMG_5406

H. P. Lovecraft: How to Become More Intimate With Both the Man & the Work in Just 2 Steps!


First, read this (it’s short)…

Born on August 20, 1890 in Providence, Rhode Island, Lovecraft always felt as though he were an anachronism of the time in which he lived. His great fondness for the ancient Greek and Roman civilizations as well as his love of such fantasies as Grimm’s Fairy Tales and the Arabian Nights provided the backdrop for the fascinating tales he would spin later in his life. By the age of twelve, he had already mastered the standard English meters of poetry and was mainly a poet until about 1917, when the life blood of prose poured forth out of his pen and leaked mesmerizing tales on to the parchment stained with his imagination. Lovecraft drew much of his inspiration from the works of Edgar Allen [sic] Poe, whose style is evident in many of Lovecraft’s stories. S.T. Joshi, a leading literary critic who has devoted much time to the study of Lovecraft and written several volumes about his life and works, says Lovecraft’s discovery of Poe at the age of eight gave Lovecraft’s writing “the greatest impetus it ever received.”

Lovecraft’s family life was filled with tragedy. In 1893, Lovecraft’s father, a traveling salesman named Winfield Scott Lovecraft, became paralyzed and remained in a coma until his death in 1898. As a result of this unfortunate turn of events, Lovecraft’s grandfather, Whipple V. Phillips, a wealthy industrialist, sustained Lovecraft and his mother, Sarah Susan Lovecraft, until he met his death in 1904. From this point on, poverty would be Lovecraft’s lot in life until his untimely demise at the age of forty-six in 1937. Though Lovecraft loved his mother dearly, he suffered much emotional scarring from her as she deemed him ugly and, for no apparent reason, hated him for his father’s poor health. She was hospitalized for her disturbed psychological condition and Lovecraft made no special efforts to see her during her final days. Her death in 1921, however, led Lovecraft to combat suicidal tendencies. After the collapse of his brief and unhappy marriage to Sonia H. Greene, Lovecraft lived with his aunt, Lilian D. Clark, until her death in 1932. He then moved in with his other aunt, Annie E. Phillips Gamwell, and remained with her until his death.

Some believe Lovecraft’s greatest accomplishment was his correspondence with fans of his work and other authors. It is estimated that he wrote over 100,000 letters in his life to such people as Henry Kuttner, Samuel Loveman, and Vincent Starrett. The letters describe his feelings about the nature of life, his aspirations, and his interests. Some readers find these more fascinating than his fiction works as they unleash his true writing genius completely unfettered.

(from “H.P. Lovecraft, 1890-1937,” an article published on the University of North Carolina at Pembroke website)


Now, click here…

http://www.teemingbrain.com/2013/06/03/how-to-read-lovecraft-a-practical-beginners-guide/

“…we all float down here…”

it-pennywise-balloon

Photo: tumblr (from the new film IT based in the novel by Stephen King). Design: Woody D.

They Look Like People, a CAF Film by Perry Blackshear

images

SPOILER ALERT!

4 stars! Recommended for Quiet Horror fans…

http://www.theylooklikepeople.com/

‘They Look Like People is a 2015 independent psychological thriller film that was shot, edited, written, produced and directed by Perry Blackshear and marks his feature film directorial debut. The movie had its world premiere on January 25, 2015 at the Slamdance Film Festival where it won a special jury award. It stars MacLeod Andrews as a man who believes that humanity is being secretly taken over by evil creatures.

Close friends Wyatt and Christian reunite in New York City, where Christian invites Wyatt to stay at his apartment. Wyatt has withdrawn into himself, having recently broken up with his fiancee, while Christian, who lost his girlfriend, attempts to counter his insecurities with bodybuilding and aggressive machismo. As the two old friends bond, Christian invites Wyatt along on the date he has with his supervisor, Mara, calling ahead and asking Mara to invite her friend.

MV5BMjIzNDQyODU5NF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwODQ4NTgzNDE@._V1_SX1777_CR0,0,1777,754_AL_

Wyatt and Christian arrive to find that Mara’s friend Sandy has fallen and injured herself. Wyatt examines Sandy and recommends she go to the hospital. Wyatt, Christian and Mara spend the evening in the waiting room until Sandy’s release, and Mara gratefully thanks Christian for staying. As Christian walks Mara to the subway, he fails to take the initiative to kiss her goodnight. Wyatt reassures Christian that Mara is probably still interested in him despite the ending. After Christian falls asleep, Wyatt receives an anonymous phone call, where a muddled voice tells him he only has time to save himself, and he must leave the city and prepare for the demonic invasion.

Mara and Christian continue seeing each other. Wyatt receives subsequent phone calls, this time in Mara’s voice, alerting him to ominous signs of the apocalypse and the nature of the demons, specifically how they infect humans. Wyatt confers with a psychiatrist his fears of psychosis, but cuts the session short when he becomes convinced the psychiatrist himself is possessed by demons. Wyatt stockpiles weapons in Christian’s cellar and alternately contemplates both suicide and murder of passerby he believes to be possessed.

With his newfound assertiveness, Christian believes himself to be in line for a raise, only for Mara to reveal that he has been fired. A note on his computer, signed by his coworkers, accuses him of being an asshole. Christian returns home to find Wyatt waiting for him. Before he can say anything, Mara visits. At first angry, Christian apologizes and invites her in. The three chat amicably, and Christian leaves to get food. Wyatt invites Mara to explore the house and takes her downstairs to show his weapon stash. Wyatt asks her for further information on the demonic invasion, alluding to her voice on the phone. When Mara realizes Wyatt’s seriousness, she flees the house. Christian returns, disappointed that she left, and Wyatt becomes highly agitated and rants about the coming demonic invasion. Christian calms Wyatt down and sets him up with a psychiatrist, the same one Christian went to when he previously attempted suicide.

Wyatt accosts Mara, trying to apologize, and she lashes out in self-defense, injuring Wyatt. Out of remorse, Mara helps him clean up, but Wyatt becomes horrified as she transforms into a demon. Wyatt runs away and finds Christian preparing to join the Army to conquer his insecurities. Wyatt instead convinces him to leave the city and prepare for the coming apocalypse. Christian agrees, so long as Wyatt attends his psychiatric appointment. As Wyatt sees omens of the apocalypse, he instead insists they barricade the basement. To show his trust in Wyatt, Christian allows himself to be bound and gagged in case he is possessed. On the hour of the apocalypse, Wyatt becomes convinced Christian is possessed, and prepares to kill him as he watches Christian transform. At the last moment, Wyatt realizes he is hallucinating, and recognizing Christian as truly human, frees him. The two embrace, and Christian remarks that he has finally conquered his insecurities by facing death.’

(Wikipedia)

The Horsingdon Transmissions, No.71: “The Warehouse” (#reblog @Whispers from the Ghooric Zone)

bunke

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.71: The Warehouse

‘This bunker-like structure—which has been repurposed as the freight depot which services the local Northwich rail lines—was at one time utilised by the Ministry during their period of involvement (which some maintain continues to this day) with the mysteries of the Horsingdon Triangle.

The original purpose of the building remains unclear, although local residents refer to it as “the Warehouse”; in relation to which, what might appear to the casual observer as traditional mason’s marks (etched throughout the brickwork across the circumference of the building) in fact constitute elements of a complex system of obscure occult symbology—a system delineating a set of geometrically—obscure non-Euclidean and hyperdimensional relations, which are typically used for binding and containing praeternatural intrusions into this world.

The building certainly has acquired something of an uncanny reputation over the years, primarily as as a result of the strange sounds that would sometimes issue from its interior; indeed, one can still hear tales—occasionally whispered by the rail workers who frequent the numerous nearby hostelries—concerning encounters with a “nameless mist” or “formless thing” which continues to haunt the edifice to this day.’

Posted by Justin Woodman at http://ghooriczone.blogspot.com/2017/03/the-horsingdon-transmissions-no71.html