House (Not the show. DEAR GOD, NOT THE SHOW)

This is not a writeup about the show House, where a snarky doctor pops Vicodin and solves medical mysteries. If that’s what you’re looking for, turn back now. This has nothing to do with that show, and never will. There are no similarities, except for maybe that some of the actors are male.

There are lots of movies out there about haunted houses and people getting trapped in them. Or people spending the night in one and then getting trapped in them. Or people going to a house because they’re lost/car’s broken/think it’s a nice hotel and then get trapped in it. It’s a familiar story, and it can be said that it’s a little played out. But then, you could really say that about every movie out there, couldn’t you? All stories have already been told, it’s the way in which they’re done that we should be looking at.

And by god.

I think I originally began to watch this because I thought it would be crap, and maybe it would help me fall asleep. Michael Madsen was obviously another pull. He’s okay in my book. But it’s very likely that I didn’t really have much hope, though I swear to you now that I recall no such thoughts happening.

Mostly because this movie just blew all such thoughts right out of my pretty little brain. Then said brain was splattered against the wall.

This is, apparently, also a book. Which I’m going to have to seek out. Because wow. If this is what I get from the movie, I can only imagine what I’ll get from the book (*knock wood* please, don’t jinx me, please don’t let me be wrong, please don’t let it be horrible since I opened my damned fool mouth).

This doesn’t just get you through plain old every day fear, either. This really fucks with you all over the place. It’s like it had a party in your brain with Motley Crew and Guns ‘N’ Roses and didn’t tell you. It also didn’t tell you that it invited some heroin junkies and gave you some acid in your sandwich. Every single angle, this thing is coming at you. I loved it.

I think that more horror should be all encompassing, instead of just focusing on the physical horror or the psychological horror. Combining it can make some very beautiful music. Haunting, melodic music carrying a chainsaw. Oh, I know it can go the other way, too. I’ve seen it happen. I’m not an idiot. But more should at least try. If we do not try, we do not learn.

We can take notes from this movie, and spread them all over the place, and hope that little baby movies with this much intensity are born. Or something.


The Boy In The Striped Pajamas

It’s not the fastest paced movie I’ve ever watched, but it’s not as long as Schindler’s List.

Very powerful movie. Very moving movie. But oh my god depressing as well. OMGDEPRESSING.

Not that I really expected it to be otherwise. Even the most lighthearted of the Nazis VS Jews movies end up being really fucking depressing by the end of it. And this one didn’t even start out particularly fun.

So I knew what I was going into, but you still just can’t be ready for some things. Some things still kick you while you’re down. This movie kicks you in the face while you’re down. Kind of laughs at you while you squirm in pain and then kicks you again.

It’s a good movie. A good one to watch. I don’t know if I’d own it. If I did, it’d go into the pile of things that I own that I can only watch once every couple of months because they’re so horribly depressing. But I can’t say honestly right now if I would go seeking this one out. I don’t know if it has any re-watch-ability. It might be a one shot flick.

Even Schindler’s List gets watched at least once a year.


This was supposed to be some massively controversial flick because Dakota Fanning plays the victim of a rape during it. While that’s really a horrible thing to go through, you don’t see anything, really. You see her and blackness. You hear sounds. She’s screaming. The rape is thusly implied.

But it’s really not enough to get your panties in a bunch for.

Not exactly sure why I watched this movie. Maybe I was hoping it would bore me to sleep. Unfortunately, it didn’t. And just when the thing had potential to get interesting, it ended.

I was never a huge Dakota Fanning fan, and this film didn’t do anything to raise my opinion of her in any way. Her acting was bad. Whoever directed her did a bad job. The story was really boring. Boring story just amplified bad acting.

Then on top of it all, they butcher the shit out of Elvis over and over and over and over and over, until you can hardly remember what his song sounds like coming out of his mouth.

This certainly was a waste of time.

Descent – My thoughts as they unfolded while I watched.

Hellooooooo Rosario Dawson!

Er. I … Rosario Daws….erm.


Holy shit.


Fucking jesus christ.
I mean, seriously.
I can’t even… there are no words.


World’s Longest Rape Scene…
And the award goes to!

Good crap, people.
What were you thinking?

I’m damaged for life.