STATIC SHOTS

Offensive to Good Taste and Morals

You don't have to watch A Serbian Film to be grossed out this Halloween. There are tons of disgusting things just lurking behind every corner of your local supermarket, Facebook scroll, and science class. Our very existence on this rock is filled with some very messed up shit. Here's a few in case you haven't heard, or maybe blocked from your memory.

- Babes

Conjunctivitis

Whether you're on the receiving end of this miserable affliction, or staring down a burdened carrier, you cannot wash your face and hands enough, as your body has now been taken over by some otherworldly monster. Unclean! Unclean!

Cottage Cheese

This is not food. It most closely resembles what my cat's puke used to look and smell like. Commercials of people spooning in big happy mouthfuls make me wretch into my mouth. Stop eating this.

Snails

Any animal that produces and requires its own mucus for transportation is fucked.

Tapeworms

The whole idea of being host to a foreign organism is scary. Feeding and accelerating its growth, until it unfurls out of your asshole for more living space, is gut-wrenching. No pun.

Colostomy Bag

While I understand its need in the medical field, I believe any living person who now relies on this unholy tool to pass their stool should be granted a peaceful final exit from their life. It is no longer a happy, sanitary, or dignified way to live. 

Casu Marzu

Some foods eaten should never be spoken about socially. The fact that snails are consumed and considered quite a delicacy is to me one of life's greatest mysteries. But a "food" even more rare and revered, and coming only from Sardenia, is this fermented maggot-filled cheese. It's so upsetting to people that it's actually illegal. If you want to serve it at one of your high price parties, you've got to black market that nasty shit.

Wet Hair

We all know that moment where the water in the shower starts to fill up around our ankles. It's time to play plumber and stick your fingers into the moldy and slimy drain in search of the special hair clog prize. After minutes of abysmal tactile hell, you succeed and find the culprit. You hope and pray you get it all in one big pull, so this nightmare can be over. When you pull out what could be enough hair to be a small rodent, and you wonder if you're balding, another hell unto itself, you dispose of the gooey clump as soon as you can, grateful that it is the longest time until you have to endure this torture again.

ROGER CORMAN and CHEESE, part III: "Forbidden World" and Great Value Stuffed Crust Chicken Bacon Ranch Pizza

One of the better parts of this journey is trying to match the pizza with the picture - whether there's some literal connection, or maybe a peripheral thematic link, or they just start with the same letter, the endgame is to discover that perfect marriage -- and if it's not there, create one. It's easier when we're already familiar with either the food or the movie, but in this case we went in cold -- and found a strong harmony. 

There's a long list of Corman-related films that don't feel at all like they're part of his wheelhouse - 1982's Forbidden World is nowhere to be found on that list. If anything it belongs on the list of "Movies to Familiarize Yourself with Roger Corman" - think of every Corman cliché and it checks every one of those boxes: the good, the bad, and the breasts. In its first 90 seconds the influence of Alien, STAR WARS, and 2001 are palpable. It opens with a clumsy galactic dogfight that's as confusing as it is dull, but thankfully the movie immediately forgets about it and we move into the very breezy and quickly-paced plot: the science experiment has escaped, so now's a good time to wander around the poorly-lit sets all by yourself. It features an evil scientist, a helpful scientist, a sassy robot, Jessie Vint as a sleazier Han Solo, character actress June Chadwick as the blonde, and otherwise-obscure actress Dawn Dunlap as the brunette. (At one point the two women take a futuristic shower together that uses light instead of water.) The creature is a boardwalk caricature of a Xenomorph but for the most part remains hidden through angles and editing, and its inevitable demise is just as gross as the means with which it's dispatched. At a scanty 77 minutes it actually left us saying, "wait, that's it?" 

The pizza is just as much of a busy, gross mess confined to a small space. The "ranch" element is the most troubling part - fresh out of the oven it's a soupy, tangy pool with thawed chicken and bacon chunks drifting in its current. Once it cools down it congeals some and becomes more manageable but it's still not very fun. The stuffed crust is a stuffed crust; it's definitely the reward of each slice. This is Walmart brand, folks, which may be the retail equivalent to Roger Corman: you get what you pay for, but when it hits, it hits hard. 

The Movie: B+

The Pizza: C-

Faces of Yuck

I wanted to compile a proper list of favorite Gross Movies or Gross Scenes or whatever my typical bullshit may be but I found the idea to be annoyingly immeasurable - repulsiveness appears to be more abstract than "what's funny" or "what's scary" and probably even more personal. I thought of all the goriest moments of the most violent movies. I thought of all the puke and shit and semen of 90s Comedies. I thought back to my youth and tried to remember the images that made me uneasy. I tried to think about the traditional choices and all the movies that make the lists of "Most Shocking" and "Most Disturbing". I thought about Joe Bob's Vomit Meter. The real question was, would this be a serious inventory or just for fun; in other words, there's at least fifty shades of foul and the stuff that has me laughing and clapping shouldn't share a list with the stuff that has me gasping and puking (or crying and seething). And in trying to find appropriate programming to watch this year, navigating this spectrum has proven to be most difficult. 

Ever since God said to Abraham, "Sacrifice your son for me. But first, pull my finger", there's been Gross-out Humor. It seemed to really take the film industry by storm in the late 90s and early 00s, and even though I was a teenager at the time, the subgenre didn't really capture my imagination; I felt like a prude but I never found them funny enough - perhaps because I never found them gross enough. 1998's Happiness and most of Todd Solondz's movies hit the mark for me in terms of achieving both Gross and Comedy in a much less juvenile way than the Farrellys or the Wayanses, and with much more filmmaking prowess than John Waters. I'd go as far to say that his particular formula of irony and satire is unique to any other storyteller I've ever been aware of; his ability to make lite of dark subject matter is even that much more magnified when he presents it seriously. And it's that serious darkness that makes a difference. 

The grossest stuff is usually the psychological stuff; the sprays and projectiles and overall dampness is good for a giggle and a gasp but it's the stuff that stays with me and ultimately depresses me that I find most disgusting. But they don't call that "disgusting" they call it "disturbing" because, clearly, the grossness comes in columns. This is the stuff that's the least fun to watch, and particularly rewatch; sexual assault, animal stuff, kid stuff, nonfiction horrors - they all leave a completely different taste than something like Re-Animator or Scanners. For my own fancy, if you can make it as fun or exciting or interesting as one of those Horror or Science Fiction extravaganzas then I'm more likely to hold it in higher regard and come back again. Last House on the Left sucks so I'm not worried about it. I Spit On Your Grave is clumsily confrontational even for a revenge flick. Irreversible is too grim. Man Bites Dog is too dumb. The quantifier is "fun" I think, and fun is just as relatable as "gross". Clockwork Orange is fun. Devil's Rejects, Deliverance, Cape Fear, all fun and interesting and exciting to me. I've still completely kept my distance from Come and See but my impartial observation has me curious as to whether or not I'd watch it as often and as casually as Schindler's List -- though that just may be the magic (or misjudgment) of Spielberg. 

Violence is the big one I think - more than slime or barf or fantastical body horror; "gore" is typically what most people think of when they think of gross. But with violence it's a lot easier (and more socially acceptable) to differentiate between "fun" and "serious". The earliest (and most extreme) example of my own is watching The Black Knight scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail when I was like 3 years old and even then being initially shocked at how blatantly vulgar it was and then sort of being helped along to realize the comedy of it. Like I said that's an extreme example because that's a legit straightforward Comedy, but it's the movies that rest on Violence and find ways to be cute with it that are, for every single intent and purpose, the "fun" ones (critics could not grasp this during the Slasher boom). Only until recently it seemed like Quentin's entire career was just a series of him "answering for" whatever new plague he'd unleashed on social mores - and that's only because he was making Crime movies as opposed to those ridiculous Horror flicks. Though I've always said that Casino is the most violent movie I've seen, because while it's not Dead Alive or Hellraiser it stabs that much deeper since it's presented (and rooted) in reality. Even all the torture porn stuff barely slides by because, no matter how realistic it comes across, they can't escape that stigma of camp; the literal tagline for The Human Centipede is: "100% Medically Accurate", as if to say "please, this would be so much more effective if you ignore how ridiculous it is". But that's the irony: the New French Extremity movement and the J-Horror stuff take themselves so seriously that they left out the goddamn fun. But are they gross?

Actually, I'd argue that real grossness maintains an air of burlesque and that maybe nothing can be truly serious when you got heads rollin' around. When I was little the throw up in The Exorcist was one of its most traumatizing tricks - when I look at it now it feels a bit like the punchline in an otherwise humorless atmosphere. But it's definitely gross. All puking is gross, and it was particularly startling as a child because of how traumatic it was whenever it happened to me in real life; I was too terrified to get through Stand By Me because of the barf-o-rama sequence - I was phobic of vomit stuff. My mother thought the grossest part of The Exorcist was the electroencephalography scene where they stab Regan in the neck and take pictures of her brain. Apart from the weird food and heart extractions I can't stand Temple of Doom in part because of the room full of bugs. My father doesn't like Raiders because of the snakes. There are literally still folks who won't watch Brokeback Mountain. Point is, people's phobias, however irrational, can determine their level of loathsomeness in fiction - not because they're scary, but because "ew". 

There are a hundred other avenues for means and moods of repulsion and I've certainly overthought them all - a lotta Comic Book movies make me woozy, but even the most nuanced list should maintain some comprehensive motif; leaving out bad CGI, misguided politics, weak humor, and all the other stuff that makes us sick, and focusing entirely on the intentionally gross entertainment. We like gross, but how far can you take it and still have a good time? Confronting this idea as I am right now, it helped me to realize that I've always found that perfect balance in the Italian Horror Cinema of the 1970s and 1980s. 

One could argue that's a genre all unto itself and one I love for many reasons, and one of the reasons is their confrontational violence. Therein lies the argument that was being made during that specific era of Horror: while these were never played as straight Comedy, the gore was so aggressively graphic that it would've been foolish to take it seriously. And it's the stability of that mix that fills me with the giddiness that's sought after when we purposefully subject ourselves to the ick. So following that formula and sidestepping the phony yardstick of "Most Disgusting" I can say that my favorite Gross-out Flick is 1980's City of the Living Dead. 

"Shock Value" is only a dirty phrase when it's accompanied by laziness. Of the many reasons Lucio Fulci's inaugural entry in his "Gates of Hell" Trilogy (followed by The Beyond and House by the Cemetery, both in 1981) is one of my favorite movies of all time, one that's high on the list is its inventiveness in its filth. The movie is an unbroken parade of set pieces and while much of it is a showcase of ungodly violence, there's also a lotta muck and bugs and generalized goo - proving that you can maintain an old-fashioned spooky atmosphere in the face of blood & guts. Another thing about these older splatter movies is the practical effects wizardry and how its excellence (and sometimes incompetence) is just enough of a distraction to save the subject matter from becoming legitimately distressing - as if to remind you "it's only a movie..." It truly takes some kinda talent to find a way to repel while simultaneously attract; I find most attempts to be either too weak or too heavy-handed for me to revisit. The blend in City of the Living Dead is just the right amount of goofy and grotesque for me to wince just as much during the 100th viewing as I did the first. 

- Paul

STATIC SHOTS

CLEAN FIGHT : Say Cheese and Die!/The Tale of the Curious Camera

The long-standing battle continues - which was better: Goosebumps or Are You Afraid of the Dark?. Actually I made that up, there's no battle between these two enterprises that I'm aware of. But there should be; we fight about everything else, we should at least throw down over the more important issues. Personally I know which one I've always chosen but I'm trying to not let that (entirely) inform my decision in this otherwise impartial conflict; ignoring all other media produced under these respective spooky umbrellas, today we're focusing on two things: the Are You Afraid of the Dark? episode titled "The Tale of the Curious Camera", and the Goosebumps episode (and book) titled "Say Cheese and Die!".

It's an easy and obvious collation: 90s Children's Entertainment rooted in Horror Anthology, both stories centering around a corrupted camera that causes death and destruction with each photograph, all versions of the story released within a four year period. If we're to ignore the Twilight Zone episode from 1960 titled "A Most Unusual Camera" then the earliest version of this concept goes to the Goosebumps book in 1992 (which openly borrowed from Twilight Zone). "Say Cheese and Die!" was the fourth book in the series, with the first one having been released just four months prior, so it's safe to say that Goosebumps-mania really went into full swing in '92. By the time this one came out in November I was in total Bram Stoker's Dracula mode, and so while the series didn't entirely fit in with my interests it was hard to ignore its presence. I was in the fourth grade, which is probably around the target audience if not precisely; not that teachers were assigning this macabre material as part of the syllabus, no, these were for the ones who read for pleasure. That wasn't me, and yet, I still amassed a stack of them simply because I was that enamored with the artwork on the covers. 

Not just the sleek illustrations by Tim Jacobus, but the alternating color schemes of the Goosebumps logo and the border around it all worked together like some kinda candy, to the point that I just started buying them based on a literal judgment of a book cover. This was at an age when school had substantially soured the possibility of getting any enjoyment from reading, so I had to get my prepubescent frights from some other outlet. Fortunately just one month after the first Goosebumps hit shelves, our television screens were blessed with SNICK, and with it came Canada's Are You Afraid of the Dark?. 

The pilot episode, titled "The Tale of the Twisted Claw" debuted on YTV in Canada in 1990 but the show didn't become a Nickelodeon series until '92 - as part of their Saturday Night "SNICK" block of programming. SNICK was openly aimed at "preteens" which, at 9 years old, I kinda was, and thought watching it made me feel a teensy more mature, the subject matter was still childishly tame - up to and including Are You Afraid of the Dark?. Still though, the show had an undeniable atmosphere that was particularly less juvenile than it needed to be and I recognized it and hooked into it right away. The budget wasn't huge which was good, and it was made in another country so it just felt slightly alien to me; I only ever saw it at night and usually in its Saturday time slot, and even those two elements added to the mood. But beyond the stories about ghosts and curses, there was a richness in the cinematography and set design that never felt heavy-handed but was always palpable. 

So there it is: the Nickelodeon show and the omnipresent paperbacks were both pretty to look at and still remain indicative of early 90s youth culture. But who had the better "camera" story - or, who told it better because it's the same damn story. Predictably the first version I experienced was the Are You Afraid of the Dark? episode -- "...Curious Camera" aired in March of 1994 as part of the show's third season, and to be honest I was sorta aging outta the series and the channel around that time, so the fact that I actually caught this episode on the night it premiered was sorta incidental, but entirely fortuitous. 

The episode follows Matt, a high school loner who's targeted by bullies. On class photo day the bullies squirt ketchup onto Matt's face before his picture is taken (wonderfully morbid foreshadowing), but Matt's photos mysteriously come out blank. When refused a refund from the photographer, Matt is instead gifted an antique camera - and soon realizes it causes disaster to anything and anyone it photographs. He initially uses it as a weapon against his tormentors but of course it soon begins to function on its own, putting Matt and everyone he knows in danger. Even back then the story felt predictable and familiar, but the absolute biggest seduction for me was the gremlin. 

The story maintains its mystique for the most part, but in an attempt to explain why the camera is the way it is, they instead create a supernatural lore that left me blissfully bemused; appearing in the corner of each picture is a small, inconspicuous "gremlin", but it's not like a silly cartoonish gremlin, it's like a gothic tribal design drafted up by Captain Howdy and The Blair Witch. And at the end : : S P O I L E R : : when the camera is destroyed, the gremlin reincarnates itself in the family computer - which is such a typical analogy for the series that was constantly combining old-fashioned frights with hip 1990s flavors. I enjoyed the show on its many superficial levels, but the concept of the gremlin and this sorta transferable curse was truly fascinating and kinda scary to me - to the point that I wrote a short story spinoff in the 6th grade that furthered the adventures of the gremlin, and then as an adult I got the design tattooed on my body. 

In all fairness, the greater portion of my personal nostalgia, between the two, belongs to Are You Afraid of the Dark?. I enjoyed the cover art and I actually read "Night of the Living Dummy" on my own time, but for me, Goosebumps merely existed. It wasn't until as recently as this past Summer, along with my son, did I read "Say Cheese and Die!". Borrowed from the library with some hideously updated cover, we read a chapter a night but it only took a few pages to recognize the formula; even when I was little the "cursed object" scenario was bogged down in predictability. I will say this for one Robert Lawrence Stine: he can stretch a premise with the strength of a hundred YA novelists; one could argue that he's developing character and mood, but even as a grownup I'm like "Get to the crazy camera stuff already!" Fortunately most of these books were adapted for the Goosebumps TV show that debuted in 1995, and there were really no noticeable omissions in the stories when you condensed them down to 20 minutes. 

I was very much too old for this series when it came out - in part because the demographic seemed to be even younger than the one Are You Afraid of the Dark? was aiming for; this show felt like a loud toy commercial with puppets and colored lights and smoke machines and homemade slime (which ain't all bad). So for the sake of symmetry (and fun) I watched the "Say Cheese..." episode from the first season of the series - which apparently is the famous one as it features Canadian superstar (and Are You Afraid of the Dark? alum) Ryan Gosling. 

Ryan plays Greg who, along with his friends, comes upon an old camera in a spooky abandoned house. Greg keeps the camera, he takes pictures with it, the pictures depict mayhem, mayhem ensues. One of the better angles that's in both the book and the show is the sorta existential mystery of it: Greg takes a photo of Shari and the photo comes out blank, so Shari disappears. When Greg tears up the photo, Shari reappears, not knowing where she had gone. Apart form that the rest of the story is by-the-numbers, particularly the reveal of the camera's origins which : : S P O I L E R : : is just your basic combination of magic spells and mad scientists. In a glorious bit of trivia, the scientist and original owner of the camera in the Goosebumps show is played by Richard McMillan, the same actor who plays the photographer and original owner of the camera in the Are You Afraid of the Dark? episode. (Both episodes were directed by Ron Oliver and were, of course, a Canadian production.) 

MY CHOICE: Comparing a book to a teleplay or any visual medium usually feels pretty frivolous; honestly a Goosebumps book, however bland or sparse, can feel pretty tense and eerie in my own imagination. Clearly the TV show did not expand or even fulfill the spooky potential of the source material -- one need only witness the Fisher Price camera prop from the "Say Cheese..." episode to get a sense of how juvenile they aspired to be. Even at its silliest, Are You Afraid of the Dark? maintained a dignity and a darkness that felt respectful to its subject matter and its audience. But this is about the dueling camera stories, and though both are derivative of an even older story, there are strong enough differences in their respective executions, and particularly their resolutions, to pick a winner. While I was able to maintain an otherworldly sensibility while reading the Goosebumps book, the Are You Afraid of the Dark? episode simply and expertly provided its own, and that's an undeniable achievement. More than that, some bumbling mad scientist is no match for an abstract demon illustration. 

- Paul