About once every three to five years a movie comes along that is touted as the scariest thing ever to grace the silver screen. The fear is usually spread by word of mouth and the masses flock to the local cinemas to get the shit scared into their unmentionables. This is great for the horror genre, but such lofty levels of hype are bound to make cynical bastards, such as myself, weary of the film’s scare factor.
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Its Halloween night and you’re too cool to attend your school’s dance so what’s a stereotypical teen to do? Apparently, go to a party at a desolate funeral home that is being hosted by the creepy girl from history class and start getting fucked up! It’s a time tested recipe for dead teenagers that’s been roasted to perfection in Night of the Demons. The party is going swell until an impromptu séance unleashes a demon from the basement’s crematorium. Don’t you just hate it when that happens?
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He’s back! No I’m not talking about Freddy, Jason, Chucky or Michael. I’m talking about Sam…as in Sam Raimi. It’s been almost 17 years since Raimi has helmed a horror flick and he hasn’t lost his touch. Drag Me to Hell feels like the ugly (real ugly), long lost sister of Evil Dead II. It blends jump-outta-your-seat scares with Three Stooges style slap stick. If that sounds like an odd combination then you’ve never watched a Raimi horror movie before…
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Last night I had the privilege of seeing My Name is Bruce. Mr. Campbell was actually at the theatre to help promote the film. As a longtime Bruce fanatic I was overcome with child-like giddiness when he came out to answer questions. The man is THE definition of cool. If you ever have the chance to meet him do yourself a favor and go, you will not be disappointed!
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