My husband and I hit the Dryden Theatre last night to watch Grindhouse. Anyone who knows me knows that I love horror, especially the campy variety. There's something fantastic about the over-the-top gore and dialog that speaks to me.
One of the great things about seeing something at the Dryden: the previews. Last night, they showed some previews from bad B-movies of the 70s. My personal favorite was one for a film called The Uncanny. Plot in a nutshell: evil cats try to kill everyone. I laughed hysterically at this trailer. It was craptacular -- cats whining and hissing, and poor actors trying to look afraid (judging by some of these people, they looked as though they had barely mustered a "C" in their drama courses). Worse yet, it looked as though the cats attacking in the film were the product of a prop master throwing the creature at something. I can hear the director right now: "Okay, Susie, so you're scared, yeah, and this cat comes flying at you all whiskers and claws. Dave's going to throw him at you. Try your best to act surprised."
Some of the other highlights from the previews:
Devil Times Five -- five evil children are out to destroy your neighborhood, one pretty college coed and pruny-looking old woman at a time.
Blood Beach -- the sand is going to eat you!
The Pack -- they used to be your pets until you couldn't take care of them anymore and abandoned them in the woods; now they want to gnaw your face off. Go figure.
Jennifer -- a cheap imitation of Carrie, complete with a Robert Reed look-alike (the seventies years of The Brady Bunch, with the bad afro-perm) and horrific dialog ("The rich are always right!")
Then there was the movie itself. I have to admit that Grindhouse is one of my favorites from the past few years, if only because it's not the same drivel that studios try to push down everyone's throats. The film's tongue is firmly in its cheek. Besides, how can you not like the two films and the fake trailers? (On a side note, I would be the first person in line to go see Machete if someone made it.) Let's break it down:
Planet Terror -- Rose McGowan as a one-legged go-go dancer named Cherry Darling fighting zombies -- genius! The fact that the film jumps from the big love scene to a missing reel, and then suddenly the bar that everyone's gathered at is on fire! Naveen Andrews collecting testicles! Josh Brolin covered in goo! And then, the best yet, Freddy Rodriguez playing an infamous character whose back story is explained only on the missing reel. I fucking love it.
Death Proof -- Zoe Bell is the bomb. I take that back: Zoe Bell is the bomb diggity. Ditto to Kurt Russell. The car crashes/chases are fantastic. We need more movies like this. My only complaint: Sydney Poitier needed to put some shoes on. I had seen the movie before, but I still managed to get completely skeeved out by the fact that she was walking around a bar shoeless. Ever heard of warts, sweetie?
Overall, it was a wonderful experience, with the exception of one thing: the people behind me. Not noisy, but smelly. I'm all for being a bohemian, but dammit, soap can be made by hand -- I don't need to smell your funk all night. So if you're reading this, please, take heart: WASH UP!