What if every club in the cinematic multiverse intersected at one, single point?
BEHOLD. The greatest action/sci-fi/crime thriller/horror film mashup in the history of EVER!
Seriously, I could not stop laughing and clapping and grooving. Every time a new face popped up I was like ‘NO WAY BUT YES!’
Made by this genius: ANTONIO MARIA DA SILVA AMDSFILMS
I got a notice in my inbox that the Enzian would be playing UHF for free, and since I was broke as shit, it fit my budget perfectly! I invited a friend and we met up for the movie.
[The Enzian did not pay me to write this entry, I just love going there and have for years, and wanted to spread the word!]
Not much of a review today, mostly a ramble due to heightened mental/physical activity this week.
Wednesday happened, as it always did. The usual ‘hump day’ jokes were going to be made, the Administrative Assistant was going to send out a humorous email reminding people to get their FedEx packages organized, and the week would begin its coast toward weekend.
So when I got a notice in my inbox that the Enzian would be playing UHF for free, and since I was broke as shit, it fit my budget perfectly! I invited a friend and we met up for the movie.
In my previous entry about the Enzian, I mentioned that it does outdoor, free events from time to time. Of course you’re encouraged to buy drinks and snacks, but due to my aforementioned ‘pre-payday’ state, I was quite broke. My friend ordered shrimp and grits. She, being a connoisseur of such things, pronounced them her favorite.
UHF is the story of George Newman, a class-A shiftless dreamer type who’s lost every job he’s had. He lucks into ownership of a tv station with a grand total of about 6 viewers, and despairs before he hits on the magic formula of putting the janitor in charge of a failing children’s show. There are some ups and downs, rags to riches, and though a lot of those cliches are present they at least feel fresher than not. The random, crazyass skits and wacky characters in the film keep it interesting, and its celebration of strange people and inclusivity is very much in the vein of Revenge of the Nerds.
Upon viewing it again with a friend who’d never seen it, I recognize that much of the appeal is based on nostalgia. That said, new fans might like the film because of its bizarre humor and also as a novelty since it contains a pre-breakdown Michael Richards, in one of his most insanely hilarious roles.
It holds a special place in my heart because UHF is one of the first movies I saw in the theater without parents. A friend and I were visiting my family in South Georgia and my aunt dropped us off at the theater to see it. THAT IS HOW OLD I AM. Granted, nowadays 10 is a little young to be unattended at a theater, but it was a theater in a small town where everyone knew everyone– and we were the only people in the theater. We ran up and down the aisles yelling and generally Being Loud. I don’t know, I still love it and it’ll always be one of my faves.
UHF is not available on Netflix.
So here’s to you, Mr. Craven. You knew what scared us, but it was because you knew what scared YOU first. Good horror comes from the heart, and by all accounts you were a wonderfully sweet man with plenty of heart to go around.
[NOTE: I was waiting until October to review Mr. Craven’s classic The People Under the Stairs, one of my all-time favorite movies, for my annual horror movie round-up. However, his untimely passing required tribute, so here it is.]
Back in the day, renting a movie at the video store was a gamble. If you rented the wrong thing, you wouldn’t find out until you’d got home, possibly hours later, possibly after the store had closed. It was terrible to find that the money you mowed a lawn or babysat for had gone to a dud, full of boring characters, dumb cliches, and forgettable story. The stakes were high on Friday afternoons after school, so I often agonized in the horror aisle making up my mind, my mom rolling her eyes and yelling at me to come on.
Imagine a time with no online forums, no websites, nothing but the movie reviews in the newspaper, articles in magazines like Fangoria or Starlog, or your friends’ recommendations.
I must have walked past the box for The People Under the Stairs 50 times before I actually picked it up to rent it. Although I look back fondly on the box art now, the somewhat generic design just couldn’t compete with the likes of Pumpkinhead, Deadly Friend, or anything coming out of Full Moon Studios for my money. I finally watched it in about 1996, and thence started a relationship that has lasted to this very day.
I STAND BY MY TWEET.
I’ve talked before about urban horror in the form of Clive Barker’s Candyman and what an interesting and clever deconstruction it was – but doesn’t even come CLOSE to The People Under the Stairs.
The film starts out brilliantly – Ruby is doing a tarot reading for her little brother Poindexter, nicknamed Fool, and we hear hushed voices as Ruby lays out the cards in flickering candlelight, and with them Fool’s destiny. We’re in. The setup is established – Fool and his family live in the projects, at the mercy of slumlords and in need of money for Fool’s mother’s operation. Fool, now the man of the house at 13, is convinced by Ruby’s boyfriend Leroy (Ving Rhames! In one of his early roles! With hair!) to help him commit a burglary that will net them enough cash to take care of his family.
The plan is to dress Fool like a cub scout and send him to the front door, so he can get in and case the house. What he finds instead is a highly paranoid, racist woman who won’t even let him into the secured house to use the bathroom, and a serious security system.
Once Fool, Leroy, and their friend Spencer gain entry to the house, Shit Gets Weird. So wonderfully, GLORIOUSLY weird! I almost don’t want to go into it in case you are somehow reading this article having NOT seen the film! BUT I AM! So stop reading now. Go read the Candyman article, or… or come back when you’ve seen The People Under the Stairs! The post’ll still be here! Shoo!
OKAY.
As I was saying, TPUTS is brilliant as a horror movie for a lot of reasons. Mr. Craven was inspired by a news article about the police responding to a home invasion, who discovered children locked in a closet, and the story grew from there. A philosopher and teacher first, he didn’t begin making films until he was 30, and he started out making porn. How COOL is that?
Since the main baddies of TPUTS are some crazy-ass white people slumlords who toss around The N-Word with careless abandon and cackle at all the money they have drained from the ghetto, the movie has the feel of a modern fable. For some, THESE are the boogeymen, but they are no less terrifying than knife-wielding maniacs. They take children from the ghetto to raise as their own, but being utterly batshit crazy, no child can live up to their expectations. The children who fail are put into the basement, missing tongues, eyes, or ears, and are fed on human flesh.
And since the movie didn’t know the meaning of the words ‘Over the Top,’ the performances by Everett McGill and Wendy Robie as “Daddy” and “Mommy” are MAGNIFICENT.
God how I could go on. A young A.J. Langer, of “My So-Called Life” fame plays Alice, the only girl and only child who has managed to toe Mommy and Daddy’s crazy line. Brandon Adams turned out a brilliant performance as the charismatic, intelligent, and compassionate Fool – I’m surprised to see so few credits under his name on IMDB.
The gimp suit, the attack dog, the dolls, “A man ain’t dead just cause he’s laying there,” and the wonderful, wonderful shouts of ‘GONNA FIND YOUUUUU!!’ interrupted by a brick to the face. GOD how I love this movie.
So here’s to you, Mr. Craven. You knew what scared us, but it was because you knew what scared YOU first. Good horror comes from the heart, and by all accounts you were a wonderfully sweet man with plenty of heart to go around.
Here is a link to Edgar Wright’s touching tribute to Mr. Craven, who perfectly expressed what I have been stumbling and blathering to say.
Farewell, Mr. Craven! We’ll see you in our nightmares!
In Which The Author Doesn’t Say Much of Value Other Than An Apology
Happy Friday Eve, Dear Readers!
It continues to be a hell of a week – hell of a month actually, but I’m not getting into that.
But there’s hope on the horizon, swirling toward us like Falcor from the dawn-touched clouds in The Neverending Story – FRIDAY.
Although not a payday Friday. Ah well, can’t have everything!
Sorry I’ve not been posting much here. I’ve been watching stuff but haven’t had the mental energy for a really in-depth analysis of anything lately. I’m planning a round up of posts from the archives that will help orient new readers (HELLO AND WELCOME NEW READERS!), but haven’t sat down to work it out yet.
So bear with me! New posts are coming!
I hope your week is going well!
In Which The Author Leaves The House in the Company of Friends, Good Food, and Post-Apocalyptic Cannibal Cults.
[The Enzian did not pay me to write this entry, I just love going there and have for years, and wanted to spread the word!]
Last night I scurried forth from my bolthole for a special occasion: Orlando’s own local independent theater The Enzian was showing Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior. Rejoice!
The Enzian’s been around since 1985. I saw my first film there in 1997, Ma Vie En Rose, so right away you can see it has quite a variety. It’s the kind of place for people who just flat out love movies and good stories, like the Alamo Drafthouse. During the Florida FiIm Festival (yes, Florida has a film festival and it’s not just police dash cam vids of drunk people falling down or setting things on fire) the Enzian becomes a nerve center of activities: they show a lot of films there, and they have discussions with filmmakers and actors. Gabriel Byrne and Helen Mirren have attended, and I believe my former Creative Writing teacher Pat Rushin did an appearance as well.
The Enzian has a sweet bar outside with all kinds of drinks from domestic beers to cocktails containing absinthe, flavored whiskey, and moonshine. Inside, they offer a full menu of oodles of goodies, like sandwiches, tomato cream soup, and/or truffle parmesan fries. They also do free movies on the lawn sometimes, or other film events around town. The bar/patio is shaded by gigantic live oaks and has a fountain, so it’s a nice place to unwind.
Films I’ve seen at the Enzian:
And so many more! I can’t list them all!
As mentioned above, the Enzian does horror movies during the month of October – I’m already planning to see Shaun of the Dead and probably Beetlejuice, too.
I met up with a bunch of friends who are movie nerds like myself and we had a damn good time. I thought I saw Road Warrior like 20 years ago but apparently I was thinking of the first Mad Max, when he’s a cop. Ah well!
In lieu of a real review, here are my thoughts:
SO! If you find yourself in Orlando, consider taking a day off from a theme park and hitting the Enzian for some REAL Central Florida flavor. I like roller coasters as much as the next person, but sometimes need a break from the sweaty throngs.
[EDIT: It only hit me this morning, the delicious irony of going to a high art movie theater to watch nitro-cannibals ride around on flaming motorcycles in assless chaps. But whatev- they wouldn’t show it if they didn’t love movies!]