Tag Archives: ghosts



0 out of 5 stars (0 / 5)


Unless you like your videos a little bit twisted as I do and get your scares off watching hundreds of “most haunted places in the US” videos, you probably won’t have a clue what Villisca means. One character in this garbage-bin horror movie even goes so far to make her point by stating that “Vilisca sounds like some weird pain medication.” Alrighty. Point taken. A little bit of intro. Vilisca is a tiny got in Iowa stuck in the middle of Omaha and Kansas City and is the site of a gruesome murder that took place in 1912 where an entire family got axed to death by an unknown assailant. To this day, no one knows who did it, even though there were numerous suspects. Back to the movie. The Axe Murders of Vilisca opens to the said event, but wouldn’t you know on a no-budget horror movie that no attempt is made to make the event look like it was in 1912. From the word go, we see a very contemporary-looking girl on the floor about to be chopped to death by the least scariest guy in the world, the guy who’s appeared in hundreds of comedies playing bumbling characters left and right, Sean Whalen. Not even the sight of his cackle and blacked-out eyes give off any sense of fear as he gets ready to raise the axe and–

Cut to the present. We’re into some exposition about a troubled pair of students, Denny and Caleb, two hot looking things who get the big idea to go ghost hunting, because that’s what happens when you live in Small Town America — you need to somehow or another get your kicks on, and what better than to see if you can capture some restless souls in the middle of the night? Of course. So off they go, not before we see some subplots develop involving two school bullies who taunt the boys and a girl named Jess who tags along. We arrive to the house, and reader, if you’ve seen the videos I mentioned, or you’ve read about the place, or even if you’ve seen pictures of the darned place you will notice that the Axe Murder House isn’t even remotely the same as the actual place. Now while sometimes I get it, maybe the director, Tony Gonzalez, thought his micro-horror indie would fly so low under the radar and its subject matter would be so obscure in an exotic way that no one would notice, but I wasn’t having any of this — I literally jumped out of my seat and went, “That is NOT the Axe Murder House! Grrr!” and continued to watch this boring mess. Nothing of note happens for a while as the threesome get their tour, but Jess hears som e faint music and gets drawn to a room. Suddenly out of nowhere — a jump scare so cheap I groaned aloud. A woman is grabbing Jess like she’s about to strangle her and asks her why she’s even in this room, etc. etc. And then, we’re back to more slow-moving stuff, more expo, not much action.

And then, night falls. Because this wouldn’t be a horror movie without the absence of light, right? As President Elect DJ Trump often stated during his campaign, “Wrong.” Oh, my God, this movie went on forever, not really giving much, characters explaining too much, sudden flashbacks to previous events, and then we’re into the two bullies at the start of the film, who through an Instagram picture Jess posts locate her at the Vilisca house and decide to pester them with dire consequences. Here is where the movie completely loses the plot, and frankly, devolves into a puddle of goo, with people getting possessed, re-possessed, attacking each other, then not, then re-enacting events, then there’s a gay kiss which was the only highlight of this terrible mess, and finally, a WTF shot that literally means nothing. I can’t begin to tell you what a cheat this movie was. It’s so bad I wanted to throw something heavy at my television, and almost did. If you want to see something scary, watch the first Amityville Horror. At least that fright fest manages to conserve the image of the house intact, and the scares are serviceable. Or go ahead and watch NuFusion or Mr Nightmare’s videos on YouTube. Those are truly hair-raising and you will wind up turning on the lights at one point to make sure nothing is with you, watching you.


viagra user reviews thesis eleven centre https://creativephl.org/pills/how-to-buy-xanax-no-script/33/ enter viagra para mujeres en argentina see https://pharmacy.chsu.edu/pages/resume-templates-for-microsoft-word-starter/45/ levitra efectos secundarios cheap generic viagra 25mg http://www.naymz.com/do-you-agree-that-exercise-helps-in-weight-loss-essay/ how to improve writing essays go here steps for writing a thesis essay have reviews watch enter site https://www.nypre.com/programs/company-that-helps-with-personal-essays/37/ acquisto viagra online sicuro source link watch help on math homework essay on cell phone use while driving click http://fall.law.fsu.edu/stay.php?home=i-need-to-write-an-essay-about-myself https://www.sojournercenter.org/finals/essay-ending-sentence/85/ viagra prescription thesis writing narrative essay lotrel enter site follow url how to write a paper thesis WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN

2 out of 5 stars (2 / 5)


I’m a little surprised at how many critics have been raving about Lynne Ramsay’s 2011 film We Need to Talk About Kevin. I was one who for a while was intrigued by it (and the fact that I missed it when it first came out) because of its grim topic of lone killers and the aftermath they leave. When I finally sat down to watch it, however, something about this movie, which in my opinion shouldn’t be on a bad movie article, didn’t resonate. Something was tonally, visually off from the get-go, and too much time was spent in framing Tilda Swinton (whom I normally love in anything she does, although she has appeared in a couple of clunkers like this year’s A Bigger Splash) in bold reds over and over and over again, and then having her act so arrogantly through the entire affair it was next to impossible to feel anything for her character.

For those who haven’t seen We Need to Talk About Kevin, this is the 2011 movie based on the 2003 novel of the same name by Lionel Shriver. The story depicts a mother, played by Swinton, coming to terms with the devastation that her son (played by Ezra Miller) has left behind following a school massacre. For the initial portion I was hooked, wanting to know more about what could have made this privileged child turn into such a murderous, soulless monster, but the problem lay basically in casting. Swinton, for all her visual presence, is  completely wrong for the character of a mother unable to control her preternaturally psychopathic son. When you see her, you think, “Oh, please. One cold stare and she’s got this by the horns.” Nope. It doesn’t happen. It never happens. We see the son manifest symptoms of early rebellion that will manifest itself much later as an outcry of sheer violence. We see Swinton react . . . but not much. She alternates between looking caught between two emotions, deer in the headlights and deer wondering the make of the vehicle that just struck her. So out of touch if her character that we wonder if there will ever be a conversation that spells out the title of the movie. A caveat, and it’s not a spoiler: don’t wait for it. instead, watch for Gus van Sant’s excellent, devastating Elephant.

I can say that many affluent families that I was associated with in my childhood had this thing where no problems of any kind were discussed or mentioned or even referenced. It just didn’t happen. If there were any issues, those involved suffered in silence. In time they could let the bile out of the bag and make those affected go to therapy. Who cares? So in a way, the fact that this family, uber chic, living in a fabulous home filled with contemporary sterility, has no soul. The father? He’s nowhere to be found. John C Reilly seems to have checked out and left it all to chance. That leave the story nowhere to go but into the red. Now, my other contention is, and yes, this is a spoiler, arrows? Really?


Look, I get it. Sometimes you want to lessen the bloody impact of a reality all schools must face in the light of Columbine and all that follow, but to make a bow and arrow a part of a tragedy and not have anyone on board — not guards, security, anyone — tackle this crazy down and somehow subdue him? That’s the most egregious example of a plot hole if I’ve ever seen one. There is no way — nope, not a single one — that Kevin would have been able to inflict as much harm the way he did before a couple of school jocks would have taken his shit down, all the way down. We live in a reality of guns, and guns do inflict almost unbearable harm.

But . . . .this is an artistic  movie, I guess, based on an actual novel, and where there is an audience, there will be sales, so those who bought it and read it believed it and stand by it. And that’s okay. I personally loved a couple of artistic aspects of We Need to Talk About Kevin but it was probably a fraction of a whole. That doesn’t save it from me giving it the axe.



2 out of 5 stars (2 / 5)

Oh, boy. Shirley Jackson must be thrashing in her grave right now. Here we have a movie that shamelessly rips off her narrative style down to details — the dry humor with a wink, the stoic omniscience of the lead — and makes no attempt to create something new with it. Osgood Parkins, its director, has taken the well-worn story of the governess and the old, dark house and given it a modernist, minimalist spin. You can start going down your checklist as I type this: old house? Check. Things that go creak in the dark? Of course. Things that move on their own? Yes. Something invisible that seems to want more than one is willing to give? Bingo.

If you can, check a little horror movie called Darling  by Mickey Keating. That’s all I’ll say here, because I won’t spend more than I have to wondering what was it that made this little experiment of a horror movie suck so badly. When you have atmosphere and nothing else there is only so much you can do before one wonders when one can change the channel or switch to a better, more dramatic film. Mind you, I’m not above slow burns with a pay-off. Those are the best. Even something more commercial as Don’t Breathe by Fede Alvarez and produced by Sam Raimi has only two jumpscares that make total sense to the plot instead of being there to make you jump . . .  but nothing else. This one, with its long, elaborate title, looks more like a movie filmed for video only — you can see right through its seams when the horror appears, and all you are left are with ominous external shots of the house the events purportedly take place in. That doesn’t make this even remotely good.

I do hope that Perkins will come up with something better. This is a first film and mistakes happen. Maybe I saw it wrong, but I’ve seen a lot of horror since I was a child and this one made me irritable. Even names like Paula Prentiss and Bob Balaban, stalwarts from the 70s, helped not an iota. What a total waste of time.