It's the most wonderful time of the year: fall. The weather and leaves and smells are all great. But, really, it's the football which truly makes it all perfection. Our weekends in Morgantown for WVU games have simply been heavenly and this past Sunday, we capped it off with a bonus trip to Heniz Field to jeer Brett Favre to his first loss of the season. My sincere inner peace at this simple feat can not be exaggerated. There are no words. It. Was. Awesome.
Anyway, now it's all downhill to Halloween, which is one of my favorite holidays, even though I don't always get to dress-up anymore and my trick-or-treating is a past memory. But, I do make it a fine tradition to scare myself silly with some spooky flicks. I can enjoy the traditional "Halloween" and "Nightmare on Elm Street" and I'm not squeamish when it comes to gore. I had a fine time with "Sorority Row" and "Last House on the Left" - both the old and new versions. But, I thought I'd share some of my real favorites - not just movies, but true films:
**The Exorcist: Simply put, it's the single best, most frightening film ever made. Even now, having watched it a million times, I appreciate the underlying horror in every frame. The director's version with that new shot of the "backward stair-walk" caused me sleeplessness for a few days - and I was in my twenties.
**Rosemary's Baby: My absolute favorite in the genre, the tone of this movie is one I find most interesting. I've watched it so many times, I can recite the dialogue by memory. Mia Farrow is absolute perfcection. That devil rape scene? Pretty darn disturbing.
**The Sixth Sense: Nothing compares to the first time, but even after you know the reveal, the whole film holds up well. It's a modern masterpiece, I think.
**The Shining: Oh, Jack, you are something else. Nothing compares to the book for sheer terror, but this film, with its eerie wide shots and haunting score still gets under my skin. Classic.
**Picnic at Hanging Rock: Not your regular horror film at all, but if you have not seen this Peter Weir marvel, you should. It's got the creepiest foreboding dread and will certainly stick with you. Nothing outrageous happens, but I don't like to watch it by myself.
I hope to add to this list, as "Paranormal Activity" has arrived in Asheville. I love when tiny films like that take everyone by surprise. I also read a story that when Stepen Spielberg screened the DVD at this home, he walked into his hallway and found his bathroom door locked, which caused him to believe the DVD was haunted. Now, that's a movie I must watch!
Have a Ghoulishy Wicked Halloween. Don't get too scared!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Second Verse, Same as the First!
It always amazes me how everything runs on a cycle and there really are no new ideas. (Except possibly in Quentin Tarantino's mind, which is another topic entirely.) Witness the latest installment of rewind: the television series "V."
There are several distinct examples of obsession from my childhood which reign above all the other more minor ones - my desire to be a red-headed orphan ala Annie, my bonnet-wearing days where I hoped to gain buck teeth and morph into Laura Ingalls, and then my love of lizard-skinned aliens in the "V" miniseries and the weekly serial. When I first saw those scaley skins under the fake human facade, I fell instantly in love - and to me, that does not mean that I just enjoyed the program a little bit. Oh no, when Steph finds something she loves, all bets are off: it's pure, unadulterated infatuation from that point forward.
To put this into perspective, I will tell you a little tale of my fifth grade year: I spent every recess putting on grand reproductions of "V" on the playground. Because I started the idea, I got to be Mike Donovan, played by the dreamy (to me at the time) Marc Singer. I knew the most about the "V" world and I brought the weapons to school, so I was in charge. (I realize that today, bringing fake guns to the schoolyard would get me expelled and possibly thrown into juvie. Let this be a lesson to the over-reactors out there: I am today a functioning member of society. Who at ten years old chased my classmates trying to stun them into submission every afternoon with a white plastic weapon. I think we can all see that not every kid with pretend artillery turns into Columbine-like murderers. It's worse. They could turn into attorneys.)
Anyway, I decided recess was not enough time to carry on my charade. So, I started inhabiting my role of Mike Donovan all day, everyday in school. I would not respond to "Stephanie" anymore - only Mike. I wrote Mike Donovan on my papers and talked in class incessantly about "V" and my theories on the plotlines. My less-than-desirable teacher wrote a note home to my mom about my behavior, but I don't think my mom ever got that note because what dumb-ass teacher gives a kid a note to deliver to their mother? Seriously. (I later got in trouble for that because, apparantly, if a dumb-ass teacher writes a note for a parent and hears no response, they assume the note never reached its intended destination. Oh well - I say I get points for trying, anyway...)
This was the first time in quite forever since I had really fit in at school and had any friends. Kids in my class would approach me on the playground and ask if they could be in "V" with me. Kids from other classes started to show interest, too. If I didn't like them much, I made them faceless, nameless aliens who would be gunned down unmercilessly at any given time. I waited with baited breath for Friday nights to spend that glorious hour watching "V" and planning my attack for Monday morning. It was a great highlight in my history, I can tell you.
Of course, nothing lasts forever. Pretty soon, I had to give up my daily acting (against my will, I might add) and go back to answering to my given name. It got cold outside in western Pennsylvania, so the days of gunning down aliens ended. I still loved "V" but came to a conclusion: not everybody was as "into" it as me. (This lesson has served me well throughout my life, too. Just because I spend every waking minute thinking about something I love a lot does not mean other people share my exuberance.)
And now, after all these years of re-watching grainy VHS tapes and upgraded DVD versions, there is a new installment ready to appear. Could it be any better than that old one? Probably yes, to a new generation. No doubt the special effects will have improved - though that fact alone makes me a little sad. I hold a special fondness for those old shaky sets. There won't be any Marc Singer in the cast (that I know of) but we do have Scott Wolf of "Party of Five" fame on board and Juliet from "LOST" so I don't think it's all bad.
I guess we'll have to wait and see. But for me, as I hearken back to those old days of "V" and the love I hold for it, I have an inkling I'll be dusting off the old version and popping that into the DVD player more than I will be transfixed by this new one. We'll see, of course. I'll try to post an update of my reaction after I've seen it. Until then, if I can get my hands on any plastic weapons, would anyone care to join me in my backyard for a game of chase-the-alien-and-stun-it-into-submission? No? Okay.
I didn't think so, really, but it was worth a shot.
There are several distinct examples of obsession from my childhood which reign above all the other more minor ones - my desire to be a red-headed orphan ala Annie, my bonnet-wearing days where I hoped to gain buck teeth and morph into Laura Ingalls, and then my love of lizard-skinned aliens in the "V" miniseries and the weekly serial. When I first saw those scaley skins under the fake human facade, I fell instantly in love - and to me, that does not mean that I just enjoyed the program a little bit. Oh no, when Steph finds something she loves, all bets are off: it's pure, unadulterated infatuation from that point forward.
To put this into perspective, I will tell you a little tale of my fifth grade year: I spent every recess putting on grand reproductions of "V" on the playground. Because I started the idea, I got to be Mike Donovan, played by the dreamy (to me at the time) Marc Singer. I knew the most about the "V" world and I brought the weapons to school, so I was in charge. (I realize that today, bringing fake guns to the schoolyard would get me expelled and possibly thrown into juvie. Let this be a lesson to the over-reactors out there: I am today a functioning member of society. Who at ten years old chased my classmates trying to stun them into submission every afternoon with a white plastic weapon. I think we can all see that not every kid with pretend artillery turns into Columbine-like murderers. It's worse. They could turn into attorneys.)
Anyway, I decided recess was not enough time to carry on my charade. So, I started inhabiting my role of Mike Donovan all day, everyday in school. I would not respond to "Stephanie" anymore - only Mike. I wrote Mike Donovan on my papers and talked in class incessantly about "V" and my theories on the plotlines. My less-than-desirable teacher wrote a note home to my mom about my behavior, but I don't think my mom ever got that note because what dumb-ass teacher gives a kid a note to deliver to their mother? Seriously. (I later got in trouble for that because, apparantly, if a dumb-ass teacher writes a note for a parent and hears no response, they assume the note never reached its intended destination. Oh well - I say I get points for trying, anyway...)
This was the first time in quite forever since I had really fit in at school and had any friends. Kids in my class would approach me on the playground and ask if they could be in "V" with me. Kids from other classes started to show interest, too. If I didn't like them much, I made them faceless, nameless aliens who would be gunned down unmercilessly at any given time. I waited with baited breath for Friday nights to spend that glorious hour watching "V" and planning my attack for Monday morning. It was a great highlight in my history, I can tell you.
Of course, nothing lasts forever. Pretty soon, I had to give up my daily acting (against my will, I might add) and go back to answering to my given name. It got cold outside in western Pennsylvania, so the days of gunning down aliens ended. I still loved "V" but came to a conclusion: not everybody was as "into" it as me. (This lesson has served me well throughout my life, too. Just because I spend every waking minute thinking about something I love a lot does not mean other people share my exuberance.)
And now, after all these years of re-watching grainy VHS tapes and upgraded DVD versions, there is a new installment ready to appear. Could it be any better than that old one? Probably yes, to a new generation. No doubt the special effects will have improved - though that fact alone makes me a little sad. I hold a special fondness for those old shaky sets. There won't be any Marc Singer in the cast (that I know of) but we do have Scott Wolf of "Party of Five" fame on board and Juliet from "LOST" so I don't think it's all bad.
I guess we'll have to wait and see. But for me, as I hearken back to those old days of "V" and the love I hold for it, I have an inkling I'll be dusting off the old version and popping that into the DVD player more than I will be transfixed by this new one. We'll see, of course. I'll try to post an update of my reaction after I've seen it. Until then, if I can get my hands on any plastic weapons, would anyone care to join me in my backyard for a game of chase-the-alien-and-stun-it-into-submission? No? Okay.
I didn't think so, really, but it was worth a shot.
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About Me
- Stephanie Stark Poling
- Steph's days are complete with little Franco/Mr. Buddy Pants, Pittsburgh Steelers football, Penguins hockey, all things WVU, cold beverages, new handbags, shoe-shopping, pups, and lots and lots of movies. And, of course, her glorious, nutty family.