Ghoulies (1985)

Ghoulies begins, rather shockingly, with an attempted ritual infant sacrifice that is thwarted when the unholy priest's dagger is repelled from the boy's skin by some kind of magic. One can only assume that J.K. Rowling was influenced by this scene when writing Harry Potter.

Twenty-five years later, the intended victim in the first scene, Johnathan Graves, inherits the old family estate where, unbeknownst to him, the aforementioned ritual took place. He and his girlfriend move in, and in no time Johnathan finds a book of black magic spells and begins experimenting with the dark arts because it's fun and the robes are comfy.

For some reason, his conjurings and Satanic spell-casting kinda sour his girlfriend on their relationship. When she leaves him, Johnathan conjures forth a couple of little-person demons who promise him knowledge and power and the return of his girlfriend if he will perform this one dangerous ritual. 

Johnathan performs the ritual, which involves letting the puppet-monsters he conjured up early in the movie kill seven of his irritating friends. This awakens the corpse of the Satanic priest from the first scene, and we're off and running toward the predictable conclusion from there.

The titular Ghoulies themselves do practically nothing in this movie. They get flung onto people by production assistants a few times and rack up a few off-screen kills, but even these are negated by the ending of the movie. So these puppets are pretty pointless.

The rituals and black magic, on the other hand, are fairly well handled. The magic-users' glowing green eyes and elaborate robes look cool, and the guy who plays Johnathan delivers his evil-sounding Latin lines with enthusiasm. 

Really, they could have skipped the Ghoulies part of this movie and had a half-decent, cheap black magic movie (granted it would be a bit short). It seems, however, that the success of Gremlins for Stephen Spielberg led schlock producer extraordinaire Charles Band to push the miniature monster characters in hopes of striking box office gold. I guess it worked, too, since they went on to make three sequels to this turd.

There's not much to recommend about Ghoulies. It is billed as a horror-comedy, but it plays like simply a bad horror movie. I think they must have decided to throw in the "comedy" part when they saw how cheap and cheesy the finished product was. 

So yeah. If you find Ghoulies floating in your Netflix Instant Queue, you might want to flush it right back down.

American Mary (2012)

Mary is a top-of-her-class surgical student who finds herself struggling with her finances and her overbearing lead professor. A chance encounter with a minor crime boss who needs someone to perform an emergency procedure leads Mary into a world of high-paying unliscenced surgeries.

Before long, Mary leaves medical school behind for a successful underground surgical practice in which she becomes something of a celebrity among "body modification" enthusiasts. But along with the money and noteriety comes a downward spiral paranoia, a detachment from humanity, and murder.

Despite some horrific imagery, particularly for the prudish out there, and unflinching closeups of surgical procedures, it's hard to classify American Mary as a "horror" movie. It's more of a crime thriller with a dash of "body horror" thrown in for flavor. But in this case, you can't reflexively attach the adjective that is most associated with body horror - "Cronenbergian."

American Mary eschews Cronenberg's otherworldly mutations and twisted plasticene flesh for a more down-to-Earth, realistic sensibility. After all, as unusual as the body modifications may be to most viewers, they are grounded in the real world. Somebody out there is into each of the modifications we see, I'm certain.

American Mary reminds me most of the 1993 oddity, Boxing Helena, for reasons that become obvious throughout the course of the movie. Beyond just the bizarre and grotesque surgeries, both movies share a theme of taking the power and control of your life in even the strangest, direst of circumstances. 

American Mary is a movie about owning yourself and choosing your own path. When we first meet Mary, her mind and talent for surgery are being held back by the societal conventions of school and the process of paying your dues. Only when she doesn't play by the rules does she come to embrace what she wants out of life. After too long a life of other people having power over her, she takes that power for herself and thrives. Of course, there are consequences for every action, and when those consequences come her way, the question becomes, "was it worth it?" It's up to you to decide.

Case 39 (2009)

Social worker Emily (Renee Zellwegger) takes on the titular case, concerning Lilith "Lily" Sullivan, a young girl whose parents seem to have bad intentions for her. Emily's bosses don't see enough evidence for a Child Protective Services intervention, but Emily is convinced something bad is going to happen when Lily tells her her parents want to send her to Hell.

Emily's worst fears are realized and she has to save Lily from a horrific murder attempt. The parents are sent to an insane asylum and Lily is allowed to live with Emily until a proper foster family can be found.

Unsurprisingly, Lily starts acting creepy and folks start dying. Yep, it's a creepy kid movie. And they picked a pretty good creepy kid for the role, seeing as this is the young actress who played the creepy girl in Silent Hill and Patience Buckner in The Cabin In The Woods.

Case 39 plays out a bit like that old Twilight Zone episode where everybody has to think happy thoughts or the kid will send them to "the cornfield." It's also a ripoff of The Ring. And The Omen. And probably some other movies.

There are a few moments of shocking violence to wake you up, and some laughable computer effects (like the digital horseflies crawling all over Bradley Cooper), but otherwise it's a pretty dull affair.

It's also overlong and has as many false endings as Return of the King. There are a few places where it could have had a decent, downeriffic ending, but instead it keeps going to a confusing, unsatisfying conclusion.

If you are looking for a good creepy kid movie, try one of the movies this one rips off, like The Omen. Or if you want a more recent one, check out Orphan. In any case, it's hard to make a case for Case 39.

The Burning (1981)

Some of the boys at Camp Blackfoot have had enough of mean ol' camp caretaker Cropsy and decide to get back at him with a killer prank. It goes horribly wrong and Cropsy and his whole cabin go up in flames. The boys run for it and Cropsy ends up in the hospital, burned so bad that he's a freak show for the hospital's nurses and residents.

Five years later, Cropsy is released from the hospital, apparently still a horror of roasted flesh and skin grafts that "didn't take." And inside Cropsy's shell of charred and melted tissue is a terrible rage, burning for vengeance.

Next thing you know, we're at Camp Stonewater. Our introduction to the movie's characters (including a young Jason Alexander, Fisher Stevens, and Holly Hunter) takes place in a softball game that is much less convincing than the one in Sleepaway Camp. After some camp shenanigans, the older kids go on a three-day canoe trip down the river.

Head counselor Todd tells the kids a campfire story about a camp "just across the lake" and the legend of Cropsy, little knowing that the real Cropsy is lurking in the woods with his razor-sharp garden shears.

The Burning has some half-decent characters for a slasher movie - especially when viewed today, after a few of the actors have gone on to greater success. The movie actually gives you some characters you can root for, not just the usual creeps who may deserve what they get. (Okay, there may be a few of those, too.)

But more importantly, it has some truly outstanding kill scenes, with top-notch practical gore effects by the legendary Tom Savini. Cropsy slices and dices with his garden shears like Eddie Van Halen shreds with his guitar - with the highlight of this grizzly performance being the infamous raft massacre. It's a whirlwind of blood and blades and body parts like few other slasher movies have dared to attempt, much less pull off so well.

In the real world, the Cropsy legend was so well-known in the Northeast that it spawned not only this movie, but another slasher called Madman, and a documentary, Cropsey. And there's no telling how many other horror movies it inspired.

The Burning tells a very entertaining story of a campfire tale come to life - a legend that's all too real. It was an obscurity for a long time, but is now widely available on DVD and even the Netflix instant streaming service. It's a good thing, too, as this classic is a must-see for slasher fans.

Sleepaway Camp (1983)

Sleepaway Camp begins with a horrible boat accident that leaves a man and his son dead and the man's young daughter, Angela, in the care of her freaky Aunt Martha. Eight years later, Angela has recovered enough from her traumatic experience that she can join her cousin Ricky on a summer trip to Camp Arawak.

Camp Arawak is full of the pranksters, no-goodniks, vindicitve teenagers, and lecherous staff that are typical of a camp slasher flick. They play softball and Capture the Flag, they throw water balloons, they do shaving cream-based trickery, they curse a blue streak... Typical real-life camp behavior, and played very authentically.

Of course, when the mean boys and girls get a load of super-shy Angela, they lock their radars on her and pick on her relentlessly. Ricky furiously stands up for her, but it's not enough to stop the hazing and bullying. Eventually, campers and staff start turning up dead or severely wounded, and suspicion abounds.

When the cook gets a giant pot of boiling water poured on him, and when a boy drowns, the deaths are written off as accidents. But soon the deaths become more and more gruesome and it is apparent that a murderer is on the loose at Camp Arawak. No one - and I mean, no one - is safe.

Boiling Sleepaway Camp down to its component parts without spoiling anything really does a disservice to the movie itself. There is so, so much going on here in terms of subtext and implication, otherworldly weirdness, and the sheer audacity of the movie, that goes beyond any plot synopsis. The vast majority of 80s slasher movies never approached the levels of depravity in Sleepaway Camp, nor were they so layered and diabolically interesting.

When I first saw this movie, I literally called up all of my close friends and made them come around and watch it with me before I returned it to Blockbuster. I had to share it with them so we would always be able to talk about Sleepaway Camp with nobody left out of the experience. It left an indelible mark on me as a horror fan, and is sure to do the same for you. Even if you don't get much out of the twisted material throughout the movie, I guarantee the final shot will haunt you forever. Highly recommended.

Cheerleader Camp (1988)

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First of all, I have always loved this poster/VHS cover. They just don't make hand-painted poster art like this anymore. It reminds me of the murder mystery books my parents read, where the tranquility of some normal, innocent scene is always broken by... a skull! That's how you know it's a murder mystery and not Anne of Green Gables or what-have-you. Same goes for Cheerleader Camp. If you're looking for some Porky's-esque teen cheerleader romp, go a couple of aisles over. If you're looking for the slasher version of the same idea, get the one with the skeleton on the box.

The setup has Allison and her fellow cheerleaders from Lindo Valley High (home of the Alligators) training and competing with other squads at the all-state cheerleader camp - Camp Hurrah. There, that's all you need to get the ball rolling on this movie.

Cheerleaders turn up dead or missing, and the long list of the usual suspects gets narrowed down as the body count rises. The identity of the real killer is actually pretty easy to guess, but the killer's motivation and clever way of getting away with it comes as a real surprise. (Or would have if I hadn't just said the killer gets away with it. Oops.)

The body count is fairly low, as these movies go, and most of the kills are unspectacular. One, on the other hand, is really top notch and unusual. It involves hedge clippers being rammed through the back of a victim's head and out her mouth. Bravo, movie! Would that you had put as much effort into the other kills.

But despite the relative lack of gore and violence, Cheerleader Camp keeps your attention. The movie checks off all the 80s slasher tropes one by one - death, nudity, horn-dog teenage boys, sleazy red-herring camp caretakers, distinctly unhelpful cops, and a heaping pile of bad decisions being made by the characters.

Cheerleader Camp has the decency to throw in a few extra pinches of spice to this familiar dish, in the form of a breakdancing alligator mascot, cheesy cheerleading routines (Bring It On this is not), a few bizarre nightmare sequences, an early example of found footage horror as one character videotapes his own death and others watch it, and a hilariously awful rap performed by Leif Garrett and a portly partner. It all culminates in a surprisingly strong third act and a creepy, fairly haunting ending that should have led to a sequel. Alas.

Every now and then, if you sift through the countless forgotten slasher flicks from the 80s you will find a gem. Cheerleader Camp may not be a diamond, but it's at least a pretty decent tanzanite. If nothing else, it has spirit - yes it do. It has spirit - how 'bout you?

Check out this great trailer if you don't want to have to find and watch the whole movie. It gives away basically everything, including the best kills, dancing alligator, and most importantly, the rap song. It's also presented under the film's original title, Bloody Pom Poms. Hard to say which title is better. Or worse.

Cereal Killers

Monster mash. There, I said it.

Since the 1930s, the Universal horror monsters have terrified young and old with their grotesque visages and murderous exploits. So it seems only natural that they should be turned into breakfast treats for children.

1971 saw the introduction of Franken Berry and Count Chocula by breakfast food product magnates General Mills - crude cartoon bastardizations of two of the greatest monsters of literature and cinema. Their Frankenstein's monster revision gave the monster a sickly pink hue all over and comical additions to his iconic neck bolts, including a steam valve and pressure gauge. Dracula was de-fanged, you might say, as his vicious canines were redesigned into beaver-like extended front teeth that are more suited for opening canned cream corn than puncturing necks.

A future release would see Boo Berry cereal, which was not based on any particular ghost, but whose advertising did capitalize on classic cinema by giving him a voice like Peter Lorre - the Steve Buscemi of his day. Rounding out the cast over time were Fruity Yummy Mummy and Frute Brute (who, in addition to being created by a terrible speller, hearkens more to the greaser werewolf Michael Landon played in I Was A Teenage Werewolf than to the classic Universal Wolf Man).

Through the years, the members of this lineup came and went at the whim of the cultural zeitgeist until they finally disappeared from store shelves altogether. Now, in response to the trend toward camp and nostalgia that allows us to tolerate Transformers and G.I. Joe on the big screen and My Little Pony cartoons that are enjoyed by little girls and grown-ass men alike, the Cereal Monsters are back (at least for Halloween).

Generally speaking, the cereals consist of corn puff bits and marshmallows in vaguely horrific shapes - ghosts, bats, severed heads, and the like. With the exception of the "chocolatey" Count Chocula, the cereals are all in fruit flavors with complementing marshmallows - strawberry for Franken Berry, blueberry for Boo Berry (natch), cherry for Frute Brute, and orange-cream flavor for Fruity Yummy Mummy.

The orange-cream flavor of Fruity Yummy Mummy is notable in that it really tastes like a Dreamsicle or similar orange-cream confection. It's a very bold, in-your-face flavor that is unexpected, even if you have read what it will be before tasting. It is also notable in that is gross as a cereal.

The deep, rich, purplish-blue color of Boo Berry belies the subtlety of its blueberry flavor. This stands in stark contrast to the aforementioned FYM's over-the-top flavoring. The problem is, Boo Berry goes too far the other way. There's just not enough flavor there to wake me up in the morning.

Frute Brute has just the right amount of its cherry flavor, and is a solid entry in the mascot-based sugar-cereal food sub-genre. Cherry seems an odd choice for breakfast, and wouldn't be something I would gravitate toward naturally, but I could see incorporating Frute Brute into my complete nutritious breakfast as an occasional lark.

Coming close to the top of the horror cereal heap is Count Chocula. Having experienced chocolate breakfast nightmares like Cocoa Pebbles in the past, my tendency is to steer clear of this sort of thing. Imagine my surprise when Count Chocula came out subtle and nuanced, far out-classing its aggressively chocolatey competitors. And, true to the promise on the box, Count Chocula cereal makes chocolate milk out of the leftover liquid in the bottom of the bowl. That's a prize of far greater value than the door knockers and toothbrush stands typical of this line of cereal.

And that leaves us with the king of the Cereal Monsters: Franken Berry. Strawberry is a natural choice at breakfast - think of all of those "serving suggestion" photos you have seen on countless cereal boxes with sliced strawberries jauntily displayed on fields of bran. Franken Berry eliminates the middle man, as it were, and incorporates the strawberry flavor into the main course itself. The cereal stays crunchy in milk, yet works by itself as a vibrant and invigorating dry snack. And can you imagine it as a topping for a good Philadelphia-style vanilla ice cream? Drool. Yes, Franken Berry is the winner of the battle of the Cereal Monsters, hands down.

One word of caution about Franken Berry that I feel I must address, despite its unpleasant and distasteful nature. It has been reported (though fortunately not experienced first-hand) that Franken Berry's red dye - the venerable Red 40 (or at least that's what's in there in today's incarnation) - sometimes does not digest properly, leading to a disconcerting but ultimately harmless condition known as "Frankenberry Stool." (No, really. Look it up.) To be safe, it's probably best to limit your consumption of the cereal until you have determined how you may be affected by this aspect of the experience. In the end, it may be for the best that it's only sold once a year. There truly can be too much of a good thing.