Book Review: Things You Need by Kevin Lucia

Things You Need – Kevin Lucia
(Crystal Lake Publishing)
5/5 stars

I enjoy collections and anthologies but with so many available these days, it takes something special for a new publication to rise above the herd and Lucia has achieved that. By cleverly intertwining the individual stories with the thread of the tale of a traveling salesman, he effectively creates a story within a story which ends with a twist I did not see coming.

Johnny is a sales rep, disillusioned with his life, despairing of his future, ready to turn his .38 on himself; however, before he can commit this act, he finds himself browsing the shelves of Handy’s Pawn & Thrift in the town of Clifton Heights. This shop gives you what you need – although this might not necessarily be what you want. Each item he handles – a tape player, an old Magic Eight Ball, a phone, a word processor – takes him away to other lives, all featuring characters who are trapped in one way or another. A ghost haunts his old den in The Office, the nightmare of being trapped in rooms and hallways continues in Out of Field Theory, Scavenging and A Place for Broken and Discarded Things. In each, the main character has to face up to, or accept certain truths, much as the character of Johnny is forced to do, each tale taking him nearer to his own truth.

Johnny too is trapped, he is locked mentally into his own depression and physically in the store, with no apparent escape from either. The shopkeeper has disappeared and, between the tales, he finds himself facing never-ending corridors and suddenly-appearing trapdoors, all the while feeling an increasing desire to kill himself. This parallels the stories he reads or hears, an overarching theme which makes sense when you read Almost Home, the tale of Johnny himself, and which delivers an unexpected, and wonderfully conceived, twist.

This is Death of a Salesman written for the horror market. The stories are flawless and original, avoiding the usual, hackneyed tropes, with no weak links between them. A thoroughly enjoyable read for the longer autumnal nights.

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Odds and DEAD Ends: Claustrophobic Killing

The Horror Legacy of Agatha Christie’s ‘And Then There Were None’

Agatha Christie probably isn’t a name you’d associate with horror. She was a crime author; the writer you snuggled up in the armchair with on a rainy afternoon for a good thriller with twists and turns. For the first two decades of her career, the famous detective with the little grey cells, Hercule Poirot, was her livelihood. And yet, in 1939, she unleashes And Then There Were None. This single novel redefined strategic, rhythmic, multiple murders in fiction and would come to change horror itself.

On the documentary The Thing: Terror Takes Shape, John Carpenter cites Christie’s novel as an influence on his adaptation of Campbell’s novella Who Goes There?. In the novella, dozens of scientists find an alien imitator in their midst which is ultimately defeated with only a few deaths. Carpenter’s The Thing is much bleaker, with just sixteen men left to fight and kill, and ultimately are left with two survivors and an uncertain future, desolate and alone.

Strangely, though a larger crowd might sound initially scarier, as they could be so many people, it is when there are fewer characters that the tension mounts. The walls have closed in. There aren’t seven rooms that a killer could be in; there’s only one. And, standing in the right place, you can be sure to see them. Carpenter reduces a few dozen characters to his sixteen, and Dame Christie had already done it with just ten.

Everything about the novel has the purpose of constricting the ten, subjecting them to as much pressure as possible, crushing them. The house is cut off from the rest of the world and those on the mainland have been told not to rescue them. We’re confined to the hallways of Soldier Island’s house, chasing shadows.

Added to this the dripping theme of guilt that Christie presents us with, permeating every sentence, every word of the novel, and we see that she is pressurizing the characters emotionally. The past catching up with them; they can’t escape the killer or their conscience.

But I’m not here to discuss the novel as a whole. What I want to bring to your attention is the legacy of its setup. Just look to The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. Though light-hearted, there are two episodes of the first series in which the S.O.S brigade are trapped on an island with a single house, in a storm, when a murder takes place. Suddenly everyone begins casting suspicions, doors are kept locked, shadows are seen outside. Though there is only a single murder, as opposed to the many in Christie’s novel, the setup is so similar it borders on parody.

To go even further, die-hard fans of horror-thrillers will remember the series Umineko no naku koro ni, or When The Seagulls Cry. Twenty people on an island in a storm being killed off systematically to appease an old legend. This direct homage is done not just because it’s a nice reference, but because the formula is so easy, simple, and effective. No communication to the outside world, trapped in one place, being killed off by a psychopath in the midst.

This claustrophobic killing rhythm has been replicated so many times now that it’s hard to think that it had an origin of some kind. And there were stories that used aspects of it before And Then There Were None, but none of them had the same impact.

Could you conceive of the modern slasher flick without some of the points mentioned? Could you imagine Alien if it was in a city with a nuke nearby? If the bridge in The Evil Dead were intact? Perhaps Saw II would be better if only two people died in that house? Maybe if the police didn’t keep them caged in the apartment, REC would have been vastly improved?

If you want maximum terror, you keep people confined. This isn’t just a claustrophobia thing; it’s the idea of escape. Freedom. You find what a character wants, and then take it away from them; it’s storytelling 101. In Scream, Sidney says that horror movies are just girls that ‘run up the stairs when they should be running out the front door, it’s insulting.’ But when the front door opens up to a cliff-face or the vacuum of space, there’s no option. We’re trapped. We are creatures constantly in need of control, and when we don’t have control of escape possibilities, we panic. We get scared.

Christie got the formula and nailed it. It hasn’t been beaten since. It’s the reason why The Mousetrap is the longest continuously-showing production of all time. It’s why Waters of Mars was one of the most terrifying episodes of Doctor Who in recent memory. It’s because it taps into our basic instincts and then removes them. We can’t fight and we can’t run. We can only try to survive and hope and pray. And anyway, as Leslie Vernon says, letting people escape ‘is really embarrassing.’ These killers aren’t going to let us off the island.

And Then There Were None is the perfect slasher prototype and should be revered and remembered as such. Agatha Christie wrote the essential horror blueprint. Fact.

 

Article by Kieran Judge

 

Bibliography

Alien. 1979. [Film] Directed by Ridley Scott. United States of America: Brandywine Productions.

Behind the mask: The rise of Leslie Vernon. 2006. [Film] Directed by Scott Glosserman. USA: Anchor Bay Entertainment.

Campbell, J. W., 2011. Who Goes There?. 1st ed. London: Gollancz.

Christie, A., 1952 – present. The Mousetrap. London: St. Martin’s Theatre.

Christie, A., 2015. And Then There Were None. London: HarperCollins.

Doctor Who – Waters Of Mars. 2009. [Film] Directed by Graeme Harper. United Kingdom: BBC.

John Carpenter’s The Thing. 1982. [Film] Directed by John Carpenter. United States of America: Universal Studios.

REC. 2007. [Film] Directed by Jaume Balaguero, Paco Plaza. Spain: Filmax International.

Saw II. 2005. [Film] Directed by Darren Lynn Bousman. USA: Twisted Pictures.

Scream. 1996. [Film] Directed by Wes Craven. United States: Dimension Films.

The Evil Dead. 1981. [Film] Directed by Sam Raimi. USA: Renaissance Pictures.

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. 2006. [Film] Directed by Tatsuya Ishihara. Japan: Kyoto Animation.

The Thing: Terror Takes Shape. 1998. [Film] Directed by Michael Mattesino. United States Of America: Universal.

Umineko No Naku Koro Ni. 2009. [Film] Directed by Chiaki Kon. Japan: Studio Deen.

 

PR: Nightmarescape by Jonathan Fortin

Now Available from Mocha Memoirs Press
Nightmarescape
by Next Great Horror Writer winner, Jonathan Fortin

Bliss is a city of nightmares, and all Grace wants is to get her daughter out.

Years ago, the residents of Bliss discovered that their nightmares were becoming real. Ever since, the city has steadily transformed into a surreal, twisted hellscape. Massive walls trap the residents in with bloodthirsty monsters and indescribable terrors. No one knows if it’s even possible to escape alive.

Grace, an African-American mother, spends her days searching for a way out of the city to give her daughter Sam a chance at a real future. But when Sam is kidnapped by a shadow from their past, mother and daughter alike are forced to face their greatest fears.

FRIGHTENING FLIX by Kbatz – Kong: Skull Island

Despite Narrative Flaws, Kong: Skull Island is a Rip Roaring Good Time

by Kristin Battestella

 

Without a doubt the 2017 MonsterVerse cum 2014 Godzilla prequel Kong: Skull Island has its flaws. One shouldn’t expect perfection or deep thoughts with this fun jungle ride brimming with action and big monsters. But heck yeah let’s over-analyze the shit out of it, shall we?

Bill Randa (John Goodman) recruits ex-SAS tracker James Conrad (Tom Hiddleston) and anti-war photographer Mason Weaver (Brie Larson) to join the secret government group Monarch’s expedition to the elusive Skull Island alongside Lieutenant Colonel Preston Packard’s (Samuel L. Jackson) elite helicopter escort. Landsat officials and mission science teams use seismic charges to map and study the island – awakening ancient monsters friend and foe, government conspiracies, and personal vengeance as the team rescues crashed World War II veteran Hank Marlow (John C. Reilly) from the fantastic isle protected by King Kong.

 

Kong: Skull Island’s opening World War II crash transitions to newspapers, archive footage, and period photography on the mysterious Monarch organization as audio quotes from Truman and Kennedy lead to bleak 1973 DC protests and ironic quips about the screwed up time in Washington. Monarch needs funding to mount this satellite mapping expedition and its under the rug search amid ominous whispers of ship eating monsters and Bermuda Triangle fantastics surrounding this uncharted Pacific island. Fiery explosives reflect in the aviator glasses, animals flee the seismic bombs, and distorted music is drowned out by the destruction. People who think they are so big are made small by Kong’s giant hands and teeth – an excellent introduction with superb monster graphics and motion capture. Warped gunfire and thumping helicopter blades add foreboding to the mighty monster silhouettes as separated civilians, stranded scientists, and angry military argue who takes orders from whom. Nixon winks, geek references, and “Hold on to your butts!” keeps the old school cool coming early and often alongside minute to minute action montages with diegetic classic rock, first person shooter video game angles, and intriguing camera shots. Skull Island is an embarrassment of riches with too much to see in one viewing thanks to wild giant spider impalements and more well done personal horror vignettes with blood, gore, and brain splatter nods to Cannibal Holocaust and Evil Dead. Slow motion over the shoulder fears, creaking animal approaches, that giant log come to life – aren’t walking sticks bad enough?! The rush to repair a salvaged airplane turned riverboat adds more flying monsters and aerial fatalities to the adventure. Kong is an angry mother, but he didn’t do anything wrong in protecting his home from the dangerous creatures man has stirred, and the mission only has its bombing in the name of science to blame. Fortunately, culture shock jokes create lighthearted fun, since it’s more of a cold war with summers off, a man on the moon is eating Spam after sipping Tang, and The Cubs are never going to win the World Series. Likewise the excellent graveyard sequence combines all Skull Island’s divided and united people with scene stealing visuals, action, and monsters. Retro picture flashes and rewind clicks accent gritty zooms and intense monster filming with green gas heightening the sense of smelly vomit, skulls, bones, and gas masks. Deadly cigarettes, flames, lighters, and fumes add to the swords and machine guns poised atop the triceratops skull as man comes to regret the cruel and violent destruction he has caused.

Of course, Skull Island is also a very messy movie with an uneven dual focus. This should be either a Vietnam, horrors of war, military monster Apocalypse Now with a photographer and a scientist OR the scientific monstrosity adventure a la Jurassic Park with one ex-SAS tracker but not BOTH plots giving nobody their fair share. The us versus them scientists in blue and military in green sitting on opposite sides of the briefing is never capitalized upon but redundantly introduces everyone by name after the port of call arrivals already suffice. Likewise, conflicting, convoluted information dumps on hollow earth inklings, monsters exist proof, nature taking back the planet subtext, and more conspiracies are lost amid who’s doing the suspicious underground mapping or using dangerous seismic charges – and none of it is as important as the visual destruction despite precious little time to enjoy the awe-inspiring views. Increasingly intrusive hip highlights and filler montages distract viewers with busy, loud hyperbole, and fine jokes aren’t needed to alleviate tension because intercutting between separated characters walking to and fro for action fodder never leaves the audience with anyone long enough to appreciate their peril. Casual wonder, superficial dear family letters, and featherweight Icarus speeches can’t keep up with the up up up piecemeal quest, soldiers rightfully spazzing over the giant monkey are paid dust in favor of repeated clicks west or evac north fluff, and one trek in the wrong direction for a dead man proves pointless on top of unnecessary revenge. What should be somber shipwreck history and ancient monster worship become tossed aside double talk, and the science dialogue, monsters, and mission objectives change as people act stupid from scene to scene as needed. Littering the narrative with so many excuses that we just don’t care how each group of people and their monster attacks tie together is incredibly annoying because there is so much more potential to the friend or foe ominous and native people glossed over with photos and peace signs. Slo mo hold me back man tears turn laughable thanks to all over the place point of view voiceovers with no time for a breather properly addressing the nonsensical. Quotes about an enemy not existing until you make one get squashed between more meandering, on the nose rock montages while blow torches are convenient in one scene but forgotten the next. Our two women never talk to each other, and Skull Island can’t stick to telling its story well because it’s so desperate to appeal to as many bang for its buck viewers as possible – leaving the World War II radiation and ancient cave paintings hodgepodge to do nothing but set up the inevitable sequel.

 

All the people should have been listed in the blurb at the bottom of the Skull Island poster because no one character is fully developed – least of all top billed Tom Hiddleston as tracker James Conrad, who spends more time giving repetitive exposition on clicks, radius, or distance and unnecessary let’s go, no time to waste obviousness. It’s also noticeable that the character concept was changed when T. Hiddy was cast – perhaps in a Legendary twofer contract with Crimson Peak or during filming, for the grimy shirt jaded and gritty bearded wanderer is traded for a sunshine blonde matinee idol buff. It’s like a different guy shows up for the mission! When meeting Conrad in the bar, he’s ruthless with a cue stick. However, on the island, he’s the team negotiator, going from a rugged bad ass asking for five times the mercenary money to…Tom Hiddleston. Viewers see him as himself in Skull Island and The Night Manager rather than his Loki visage – maybe because it looks like he’s wearing his own clothes again onscreen – but someone should have been in charge of his eye candy fitness as his increasing muscles or shrinking wet shirt vary throughout the adventure. The mysteriously decommissioned tracker also suddenly cares, sneaking into restricted areas to check out the bombs and question the mission even though Conrad never gets to use this seemingly new found good guy muster. His great line, “I suppose no man comes home from war, not really,” and brief mentions of his lost father – Tom, please, no more characters with daddy issues! – go unredeemed save for dad’s handy lighter to rectify a lifetime of searching for something you can never find. Instead of calm, problem solving Conrad challenging Packard, our expert tracker gets lost and seeks higher ground before taking charge anyway after useless self sacrifices. Despite his name, there’s very little Heart of Darkness to Conrad, yet the character remains overly serious and that divine accent feels out of place – taking longer and prettier to say his exposition in a different, formal rhythm amid all the fast, casual slang. Although he has the best gas mask glory moment in Skull Island and some of the samurai choreography is reminiscent of the first advance in 300, our would be hero has no winking Indiana Jones moment nor does he take off his shirt. Why hold back when you can go all the way? But hey, those biceps aren’t enough to forgive the fact that Conrad wears a gun in a shoulder holster and never uses it!

With our rugged man and Brie Larson (Room) as anti-war photographer Mason Weaver, Skull Island feels very The People That Time Forgot. However, Weaver doesn’t cry out for her camera’s safety or click away as much as she perhaps should. She never runs out of film and such gear perils or mishaps could have been an ongoing gag, but Conrad seems to look out for her camera more than she does. There is rightfully no overt romantic plot further crowding Skull Island with unnecessary saccharin, yet their feeling each other out banter should have been utilized more – Weaver interrupts Conrad’s hero zoom by motioning for him to move over on the helicopter seat and he does. All these charming, award winning thespians have so little room to breath, leaving Weaver with lame one liners and nothing to do. The “Bitch, please!” retort for her to have several seats isn’t the right response, but her trite platitudes won’t get all these macho men pointing guns at each other to stand down either. Fortunately, her outfit isn’t uber skimpy, and Larson’s modern earthy look is perhaps the most seventies style in the cast. Weaver goes from skeptical equals Pulitzer to island believer saving injured animals too quickly with no depth to her island connections if any before ending by saying she will expose their information rather than keep this precious ecosystem secret. She could have been a hippie tree hugging activist woman alone in tune for peace with Kong, but Weaver’s touching moments with the ape are too few and far between. Whether there is some kind of native spirit and island good to counter the evil creatures below isn’t explored, and while all the scientists pick up guns, Weaver shoots with her camera only – a nice statement that just leads to her getting rescued by Conrad in every dangerous situation. A brief moment of her refusing a gun and more of her resourceful ingenuity as with Conrad’s handy lighter would have added better character strength and humor. Sadly, Skull Island has both Weaver taking pictures to expose Monarch and John Goodman’s (The Big Lebowski) underutilized Bill Randa recording film for his secret organization’s posterity. What is the point of having both such rival documentarians on the trip when they never even have the chance to object to each other onscreen?

 

But why you gotta be mean like that to Kong, Nick Fury? Despite the Vietnam withdrawals underway and orders to head home, Samuel L. Jackson’s Colonel Packard isn’t ready for the war to end. He wonders what this the fight was all for – accepting this final mission without considering the families and day jobs waiting for his Sky Devils stateside. Packard resents the camera and the media’s influence on the war as more dangerous than a gun, and objects to calling the battle lost. He’s upset at Kong for destroying his helicopter team, blaming the ape and demanding payback when he’s the one who ordered them to fly through the island’s nonsensical storm front. There’s room for more psyche, but other plot contrivances compromise Packard’s fanatical. His insistence on taking out Kong instead of the more deadly skull creature continues even when his reason for pursuing one over the other is proven more fatal, and Packard gets around the island just fine without the obligatory SAS tracker, gutting any tension the two are apparently supposed to have. After aimlessly walking for half of Skull Island, Packard needlessly divides the group when they actually come together, and any deeper hates the monster because he hates himself guilt about man’s supposed superiority is never fully explored. Certainly the Lieutenant Colonel did nothing wrong in ordering his men and defending his homeland from the horrors of war, but he takes the extinguishing the wrong monster too far and doesn’t learn from any of the mission’s bureaucratic stupidity, ultimately using napalm to flush out more creatures than he can handle. Likewise his soldiers – family man macguffin Toby Kebbell (Control), headband wearing Thomas Mann (Me and Earl and the Dying Girl), and letters to his mama Jason Mitchell (Straight Outta Compton) don’t listen to local information on avoiding island perils. At once they decide it’s all for one and one for all while telling others they will be left behind if they don’t like the plan, and none of them go against the Colonel even when he is wrong and the chain of command has broken. Although dead pan Shea Whigham (Boardwalk Empire) eating in the face of giant apes is good levity, the too crowded Skull Island keeps these military men stereotypically hip with shirtless photo sessions and no questions asked until after the fact rather than developing any killer edge e.g. Predator.

There are simply so, so, so many superfluous people in Skull Island that you can argue almost anyone doesn’t really need to be here. Landsat fraidy cat John Ortiz (Fast & Furious) deserves more than ticking the Hispanic check box with his own personal homage to Jurassic World. This looks like a diverse ensemble with representation from all walks of life, but it isn’t diversity if each monster fodder minority has five cliché lines while the white people save the day. Geologist Corey Hawkins (24: Legacy) and biologist Jing Tian (The Great Wall) look like they filmed their scenes separately from everyone else. Their brief conversations happen with no one else around and they don’t really interact with anybody on the island – simultaneously missing the opportunity for statements on the struggles of a well educated black man with a radical theory while nonetheless desperate to appeal to Asian markets with an intelligent but meek biologist who barely speaks. Hawkins’ Houston Brooks objects to the titular craziness with almost the exact same words as Mann’s Slivko, and eventually, the scientists are told to go back to the boat – which they easily find and operate without Conrad holding their hands. The post-credits scene likewise has them repeating Randa’s words on the monsters to come while again telling us not much of anything on Monarch’s intentions. Fortunately, John C. Reilly’s (Chicago) kooky World War II castaway Hank Marlow is the most dynamic character in Skull Island. He’s happy these new found people are real because he’s more than ready to get home to beer, hot dogs, and the Chicago Cubs, becoming the only fish out of water in this crazy habitat that receives any narrative payoff. I also dare say Marlow’s opening cross cultural duel turned bond with Japanese singer Miyavi as Gunpei Ikari and their subsequent hear tell eight attempts to leave the island during their forced twenty-eight year sabbatical may have been the more dramatically interesting tale – “Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra” and all that.

 

Fine gunfire, brief World War II designs, aerial action, and impressive photography also pepper Skull Island. A variety of cool ships accent the beautiful, tropical, misty, hot locations from Hawaii, Australia, and Vietnam amid lovely waters, deadly swamps, and killer jungles keeping everyone good and sweaty. There are dangerous rocks, mountains, vegetation, and animals, too – but that giant water buffalo thing has a cute nose! Unique patinas, golden sunsets, neon, bright blues, red lighting, and choice zooms set off every frame in Skull Island, and a fiery haze makes the night time battle with Kong befitting of the island’s devilish face shape. However, despite all the old school touches, Skull Island doesn’t feel as aged as it could be. A 1973 Life Magazine and a record player don’t a la the past when everybody looks so today. The money here is rightfully spent on the badass ape kids will dig, but younger audiences probably won’t notice the early computers, retro televisions, dark room photography, old reel frames, slide projectors, or rotary phones and period references. Fortunately, these creatures are so big that director Jordan Vogt-Roberts (The Kings of Summer) must pull the camera back – we can see the well choreographed rumble without hiding behind panoramic swoops and hectic editing. Kong breaking free from a shipwreck’s chains is a fine homage, and the deleted scenes with more platoon camaraderie and a bristling introduction between Conrad and Packard should have been kept. Of course, Skull Island is available in different video editions with seller and regional behind the scenes exclusives. An official comic book also continues the adventure, but I wish the background material or what happens next wasn’t relegated to extras or waiting on another picture in the franchise. Although, ironically, Skull Island might have made a great limited television series with fulfilled episodes dedicated to our mad military man, lost tracker, photographer, castaway, or scorned scientists.

Kong:Skull Island seems like it began with storyboards of cool things for Kong and company to do with everything else as filler to meet the feature length duration. There’s no time to stay on Skull Island and explore its myths or monsters, and this does indeed feel like one mere stepping stone toward the inevitable Godzilla vs. Kong anticipation in 2020 thanks to postscript MonsterVerse revelations. Though entertaining, the forties bookends are abrupt and in between viewers are spoiled for choice of eye candy. Skull Island is meant to be a monster money maker and it shows with this sweet but shallow action. It wants to be man versus man, man versus nature, and man versus himself, but superficially potlucks all the deep possibilities. Thankfully, Skull Island is not a film meant for critical eyes and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Despite its narrative flaws, there’s just so much fan service that Kong: Skull Island was bound to be an enjoyable success.

 

CometTV.Com September Giveaway! Yo Adrian!

Cool Swag Giveaway!

What you win: 

The Comet TV and Charge! September Pack has:

1 – Limited Edition Space: 1999 COMET TV T-shirt: Exclusive to this month, we’ve created an exclusive shirt celebrating the retro goodness of this classic series!

1 – Rocky Exclusive Charge! Clamshell Box: While there may not be a VHS tape inside, this pack has some of the classic Rocky artwork. Yo Adrian!

1- Rocky Viewing Kit: When you’re working up a sweat in the gym and feeling the Eye of the Tiger, this kit will help you get into the Rocky mood. There is a Charge jump-rope, a gym towel and a die-cut Rocky sticker!

1- Godzilla Funko Pop Figure: Who doesn’t love Funko Pops?!? This Godzilla will be the fire breathing center of your collection and a perfect way to celebrate the Godzilla double features, Sundays on COMET TV!

How to win:

Post your favorite Rocky, Godzilla, or Space moment (or movie line) and then tag us on Twitter or Facebook with hashtags #horroraddicts #comettv #godzilla

Twitter: @horroraddicts13

Facebook: horroraddicts.net or emzbox

Contest ends  September 30th, 2017
**Available for US residents only.**


AIRING ON COMET in September

YOU DON’T NEED A SUBSCRIPTION TO WATCH THESE GREAT
MOVIES…
THEY’RE AIRING FOR FREE ON COMET!

9/22 starting at 1/NOON C

Godzilla VS. King Ghidorah (1991)

Godzilla VS. Destoroyah (1995)

9/29 starting at 1/NOON C

Godzilla VS. Mothra (1992)

Godzilla, Mothra, and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-out Attack (2001)

 

Dr. Who and the Daleks (1965)

Dr. Who heads to the big screen and in color! After accidentally being transported to another planet Dr. Who and his friends come across a vial of drugs and head to a nearby city to investigate and find missing components of their Tardis. Say no to drugs kids! They come across the Daleks who take the components all while the good Doctor and his group suffer from radiation sickness! What can cure them? The mystery drugs they found… But an evil Dalek plot threatens the group and everyone who opposes the evil cyborgs!

Monday, Sept 17 at 8/7 C

 

Dr. Who: Daleks Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. (1966)

Peter Cushing stars in the role of Dr. Who and he discovers, after traveling to the future, that the Daleks have taken over the Earth! A band of resistance fighters are trying to stop the attack but everyone is brainwashed!

Tuesday, Sept 18 at 8/7 C

 

————————————————————————————————————
Airing on CHARGE! in September

Rocky DOUBLE FEATURES

Yo Adrian!

Catch up on Rocky I-V all month in September on CHARGE! There’s a double dose of boxing goodness every Thursday. Watch the blood, sweat and tears as Rocky battle foe after foe and continually forges on against all odds! He clearly has the Eye of the Tiger! Get pumped and watch the first five films in the Rocky saga and relive all the action, guts and glory!

Then catch a Rocky Double Feature every Thursday after that starting at 2/1 C and 8/7 C.

The Other Woman by Jesse Orr Episode 11: Civil War

11: Civil War

“Ma’am,” the officer said, leaning down to peer through the window, “do you know why I pulled you over?” He was a large man with a stomach to match. His wheezing breath spoke of emphysema and many nights chain-smoking during stakeouts. Broken blood vessels stood out on his nose but his eyes were sharp behind them. They were busy eyes, taking in the interior of the car even as he asked the question.

“Not a clue,” said Princess, her voice airy.

Officer Benton, according to his nametag, allowed his roving eyes to settle on her again. The corners of his mouth turned down a bit more and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other as though it hurt. “You pulled out of that parking lot with no signal.” He gestured to the road before them. “Two lanes of traffic might like the hint as to which way you’re going.”

“Now now, hints would be telling,” Princess said, and giggled.

Benton’s eyebrows disappeared under his hat. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just fooling around, Officer. I’m awful sorry about that, I must have just been in a hurry,” Princess sighed. “Can you forgive me?”

The corners of Benton’s mouth turned down still farther. “Ma’am, I’ll need to see your license and–”

“UNIT 34 COME BACK,” the radio shouted without warning, punctuating its transmission with a healthy hiss of static. Princess and Benton both winced and he straightened up, his hand going to the radio.

“34, go,” he said, and the radio’s reply turned into a drone of garbled vowels and consonants as he turned the volume down.

Princess took a drag from her cigarette as her eyes traveled down the officer’s ample frame, his gut heaving as he spoke into the radio. Her gaze settled the butt of his gun, which stood right in front of her through the open driver window. Right there. So close.

Missy felt the idea grow in Princess’s mind and almost at once the hand not holding the cigarette raised from the armrest, reaching for the gun. As though in a daze, Missy watched Princess stretch out the arm they shared. The fingers grazed the butt of the gun.

NO!!!…

With a sudden stab of pain in her head, Missy felt the butt of the gun under her fingers and snatched them away just as Officer Benton leaned back down to peer in her window.

“Ma’am, you’re free to go, but please remember: blinkers save lives.” He tipped her a little salute and was stumping back to his car before Missy could even say anything. She watched, her limbs weak with relief as he got back into his car, turned on all his lights and pulled out with his own screech of tires. He didn’t use his turn signal.

“Sissy Missy,” sang Princess, the rage she felt at being balked almost palpable. “Can’t take a joke.”

“Oh yes, let’s steal the cop’s gun and shoot him on a busy street. Really funny,” Missy snapped, signaling to turn onto the road behind the cop who was now just a blue and red blur in the distance. “I really don’t know where you get your material.”

“Your problem is you just don’t know how to have fun,” Princess said.

“My problem is that I haven’t killed myself yet. I’ll have you know that the only reason I don’t drive this fucking car off a cliff or into a wall is that now I can take over you if you start acting like a psycho and if I hadn’t we’d be eye deep in shit right now so you should be thanking me for not killing us both by making that cop shoot us!” Missy’s voice had risen as she said all this until she was nearly screaming. An sports car that had been pacing her suddenly sped up, its driver irrationally disturbed by the thing he had seen screaming at itself in the car next to him.

Princess laughed without mirth. “You poor weak thing,” she sneered. With a sudden sinking feeling, Missy saw that she was no longer moving the hands she saw grasping the wheel. One of them let go and extended the middle finger toward her. “You pathetic little piece of trash. You think you have any power over me? You truly have no reason to be alive, and you will never control anything again, least of all Us.” The hands moved, pulling a cigarette from the pack and lighting it, then taking it out of the mouth and holding it. Princess stared at Missy in the mirror, eyes devoid of reason. “I will see you die, locked deep inside wherever you are now, before I tolerate your presence again.”

Missy felt herself go cold, wherever she was. She tried to do whatever it was that she had done to take over, to stop Princess grabbing the gun. Pushing with her mind clumsily, she shoved with all her might, her head aching, until she realized she was standing in the same place, doing nothing. Wherever she was, she could see Princess smile and blow a kiss in the rearview mirror at her. You bitch, Missy screamed as loudly as she could. Princess laughed.

“I can see you in there, Miss. But you’re never getting out. Maybe you haven’t figured it out, but I don’t care about what happens next. All that I see is what happens now. I guarantee, by the time we die, we will have had more fun together than you ever could have by yourself.”

Missy’s eyes, wide and terrified, suddenly shifted from the eyes in the mirror to the road behind them. Look out, she shouted.

Princess’s eyes widened and she jerked the wheel to the right even as the SUV behind them rammed into their rear bumper, sending the car forward in a wide sweeping skid. Princess fought the wheel and succeeded only in making the car slew around to the left as it crossed the shoulder and wrapped itself around a telephone pole with a bang and a sickening crunch.

Terror Trax: Spaulding

Dear readers,

As last you may remember, I was being held captive in a castle in Los Angeles, abandoned to my fate by my captors–Gothabilly rockers extraordinaire, The Barbarellatones–who had flown to Eastern Europe for a clandestine meeting with descendants of Dr. Frankenstein. Thankfully, our esteemed and fearless leader, Emerian Rich, dispatched her ravens, which located me in the turret, removed my restraints, and gave me a snack. Once freed, I was on my way to my next assignment in dismal, sunny Australia, where I was to meet with heavy horror rockers, Spaulding. Upon arriving at the band’s favorite hangout -the alley behind their hometown morgue- and finding said area deserted, I was intercepted by a tiny, fearsome creature that identified himself as Intergalactic Space Wool. A creature of fuzzy yet menacing appearance, he informed me that the band members used mental telepathy to speak through him and he would, therefore, be answering all interview questions. The alien being then proceeded to pull questions and implant answers and other atrocious and unmentionable notions into my brain. He then stomped on my right foot while shouting fiendish phrases, indeed an unearthly incantation, and I instantly found myself back at Horror Addicts HQ, both my mind and big toe throbbing with pain. Once resident staff physician, Dr. Golem, had removed the answers from my brain, along with the other torturous implants, I was able to transcribe the interview here for you by use of my trusty spell-enhanced 1984 Wheelwriter. I hope you enjoy the strange words which follow.

Faithfully yours,

R.


Spaulding:  An Interview

First, for the obvious question: Is the band named after the infamous Rob Zombie character, Captain Spaulding? If not, what are the origins of/inspiration for, the name?

No connection, TBH, it is more closely affiliated with Wilson from Castaway.

How did Spaulding get together?

Nadia and I (Steev) had been playing as Spaulding for a while, and slowly over time, found likeminded individuals, to join us in our endeavors to spread the plague.

Who are the members of Spaulding and what does each member do? Is there a solid line-up?

Nardz – eats and gets angry (sometimes plays bass)

Loz – Drinks and Bangs Things (Occasionally Drums)

Henry – Delivers sass and plays effects (guitar)

Steev Killface – Squeals like a pig, and forgets everything (occasionally remembers lyrics)

I assure you none of us are ethereal beings.

What’s the inspiration behind your chirpy, light-hearted hit single, “The Miracle of Birth”? How has the reaction been to this song?

Every body’s response has been great to this lighthearted tale of removing fetuses with wire coat hangers…

How does horror inspire your song writing?

Not as much as Phil Collins has…

What kinds of horror art and culture are you into?

The answer for all of that is erotic… Complete and utter obscene erotica… also graphic novels, and classic films such as Toxic Avenger, The Human Centipede and Flubber.

Who are some artists/bands that you love to listen to?

We all have very different tastes as individuals; personally I just like to listen to old looney tunes cartoons and the sounds of children screaming.

But on a serious note between us we vary from industrial nu metal to psych rock, death metal, Goth rock and blues. We all have the bands we grew up with and can’t let go of, Smash mouth, Backstreet Boys, and even Celine Dion.

Why is unicorn jizz so delicious?

Clearly it’s because of all the pineapples they eat, that’s why they all live in Mexico.

What inspires you to create?

The fear of not creating, an undying relentless urge to defile the orifice of anyone dumb enough to give me the time of day.

Do you believe in the existence of evil?

No I don’t believe. Life is wonderful and fair and just and everyone lives to an old age with no bad things ever happening to anyone.

Can dark music be a positive force in society?

I feel dark music has done wonders for the Catholic Church.

Do you think anyone outside the horror scene really pays attention to what we’re doing? I mean, are the glory days of being a threatening force behind us -like when parents were terrified of W.A.S.P. and Slayer in the 1980s?

Unfortunately not, everyone these days has been too desensitized by the growing urge to rebel and stand out. Pop stars are whores and no one blinks an eye, even murder isn’t what it used to be… It is impossible to offend masses without doing something completely extreme such as rape or pedophilia and the day entertainment comes to that, we’re out.

If all the members of Spaulding could join their bodies together to form one gigantic super monster, what would that monster be?

The Human Centipede…

How do you feel about clowns?

Is this a trick question?

What can you tell us about intergalactic space wool?

No one is truly sure of the space wool’s origins… What we do know however is he is a malevolent being, existing within the realms of the human plane of existence, corrupting human minds and spreading a dark plague throughout humanity…

Your lyrics speak of real-life horrors (“Morning After”, “Family Values”) and supernatural horrors (“Midnight Snacks”). Is this intentional or do you just write about whatever comes to mind?

Whatever keeps me up at night…? I never set out with a topic in mind; I basically just string words together and see what comes out.

What is your favorite kind of curse?

Steev is quite fond of FUCK, I think that Loz would probably side with Cockwomble, I don’t know how many times a day Nardz uses the phrase “Oh Get Fucked” and Henry’s a good old fashion cunt man.

What does the future hold for Spaulding?

WORLD DOMINATION or, these nuts….

How can we keep up with the band?

www.facebook.com/spauldingband

www.artistecard.com/spaulding

And on insta @Spaulding_band