Va te faire foutre, bonne fin! (A review of the French edition of Martyrs - 2008 horror)

My wife often asks of Christina, "When does she sleep??" when I describe all she does in a given day. My question is, "HOW does she sleep?" Especially after watching a movie like Martyrs. 

I've actually seen a lot of non-American films, and I generally like them because they don't follow American movie-making convention. We are very predictable over here in the states, and I often can predict a movie's plot-line and sometimes verbiage from a single hearing-loss-enabling bass-filled movie trailer. That guy is going to die; they are going to be fed to the alien; lol she's going to say, "I can't believe it was [name of obvious villain]" and so on. The lead role never dies, and the comedic relief is always there to let us laugh between predictable tension moments.

Martyrs is a weird kind of masterpiece. A 2020-level progressive beating that shifts perspective as you go. Will the lead live through it all? That's not the question. Who is the lead, really? When will the pain and suffering stop? That's also not the question. What will the suffering change into is more accurate.

This movie very masterfully leads you down a relentless path that starts vehemently differently than it ends. I imagine the director was not thinking so much, "how much money can we make?" as "how far can we go before someone in the audience vomits?" And then secretly delights in the knowledge.

It's art to watch this movie take you through the regular "oh I recognize this kind of horror" scenarios into completely different areas. Supernatural thriller! Not exactly. Hack/slash? Sort of, but maybe not. Bloody, visceral mess? Yes, but also so much more.

As you are relentlessly taken through what is incredible terror and real life trauma, the balm eventually turns into an entirely different kind of terror and I was at some point desperately looking for the token fall guy to get pantsed so I could laugh in between retching and compulsive fingernail chewing.

Despite its visceral pain (and if you are sensitive to, well, any of many disturbing things you may want to watch with extreme trigger caution), the architecture of the storytelling and process of the movie is not only simply perfectly different than US films, it's an impressive flow on its own. They need to make a sequel with kittens and a puppy so I can recover but still be amazed. 

This, as a second movie, gave me serious pause. Because 2020 has been so generally relentless, I started thinking, hey, it would be nice not to have someone else's terrible experiences added to that. But I guess I am tougher than expected. Or dumber. Here let me poke you in the eye for a while and see how you do.

Incidentally, my wife and I were both so disturbed we had to watch Lilo and Stitch afterward. I needed brain sandpaper or something as benign as Disney to make me feel US-oblivious again. Well done, Martyrs, on fulfilling the role of Martyr in Horror Bingo, 2020 edition.

We've All Seen Penises We Didn't Intend to (Review of the Re-Animator - 1985 horror)

This is my first post in a long time. So long that I deleted the previous posts, which were dumb.

It's 2020 and it's been a shitshow. Instead of talking about 2020, I decided to participate, with my amazing friend [and coincidentally colleague], Christina Bergling, in her 2020 Horror Bingo. A grand attempt at normalcy in a dysfunctional 2020.

Horror is not my genre. It's my hope that my horror virginity, much like the unfortunate teens in said genre, will protect me and provide amusing counterpoint to the much more qualified Christina. I'm all Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, action movies, and so on. I accidentally see a horror movie now and then when I mistake it for action or drama. 

October 1 started with 1985's Re-Animator. Right off the bat I was like, HEY! It's Commander Shran - our blue-skinned Andorian from Enterprise. Aww, I bet he's going to die. 

I laughed, I rolled my eyes, I hid my eyes. My wife, who was doomscrolling actual 2020 horror and was partially watching, concluded, "everyone is young and naked." Well, they were mostly young. 

Scientific experimental rigor took a back seat to questionable morality. This led to inevitable situations where people, well, had to die. You want my insane idea? No sir, you cannot have it. SPLAT.

Was it terrifying, horrifying? No, it wasn't that type of horror. I don't scare very easily anyway. I do get grossed out. There was plenty of blood, good campy fun, that special kind of acting from the 80s, and the naked people.

Unlike today's movies, almost no one is beautiful (though I admit a certain man crash on Mr/ Combs because I think he was hilarious in Enterprise). No perfectly coiffed actors and actresses with radiant teeth and perky 20-something bodies. There was nudity young and old, men and women, alive and dead. I can handle most gore (and there was plenty of blood), and the delightful visceral mayhem inevitably found me laughing and cringing. I suppose that's delight.

All in all it wasn't as bad as I thought my first real look at horror would be. The movie didn't suck - it was good acting, and a good story if you didn't mind letting go of reality a bit. I mean come on, a lab should be a lot cleaner than this was. 

My review is very inexperienced - what will I learn in the next 30 days? Will I reflect more on what others with more horror capital have for this movie? Is it a classic? It definitely fit the topical Bingo hit of "bad science."