Back in the days before the Internet allowed me to have DVD rentals delivered to me by mail or to stream movies directly onto my TV, I had to rely on local video stores for the bulk of my movie viewing experiences. Because I grew up in a small town, the video selection could be sparse at times, and I often found myself drawn to the same movies over and over again. Below are five movies my parents probably got sick of seeing on our TV.
April Fool's Day -- I'm not sure what it was about this slasher flick that put it into my rental rotation more than any others, especially since it's the only movie on this list I haven't watched since I graduated high school; cue me running to Netflix to add to queue so I can refresh my memory.
Troll -- A few years back, The Lovable PigPen, Li'l Random, and I had an 80s movie weekend where we all agreed on three films to watch, and each had one personal pick. Troll wound up being my personal pick and, well, let's just say it didn't quite live up to my memory. But when I was a kid, the mystic transformations and strange talking mushroom creature apparently reverberated with me.
House -- Another film from our 80s movie weekend, this one definitely holds up much better, although it's also definitely a product of its time. A crazy blend of horror and comedy with performances by a trio of 80s TV stars (William Katt, George Wendt, and Richard Moll), the film's mixture of elements entranced my young mind.
Fright Night -- Still one of my favorite vampire movies, Fright Night manages to mix horror and humor much more coherently than House, while also populating it with fully realized characters. Plus, that theme song.
Lost Boys -- Another of my favorite vampire movies, Lost Boys has three of its protagonists meet in a comic book store and learn most of the vampire lore from a comic book; need I say more?
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 29 -- 5 Self-Aware Horror Films
5. Tucker and Dale Vs. Evil -- This recent horror-comedy tells the story from two points of view: a group of college kids who stumble across a pair of creepy looking hillbillies and then start dying off; and the two hillbillies themselves, who are innocent of any wrong-doing but who keep stumbling into situations that make them look like crazed killers. The humor is largely derived from contrasting the kids' media-savvy expectations against the hillbillies' confusion and consternation.
4. Scream -- Some self-aware films comment on their genre's tropes in subtle ways; the Scream movies opt for having characters straight up say "We're in a horror film, better watch out for these tropes or we'll die!" The fact that the film often tries to subvert the tropes even as its lampshading them is a point in its favor.
3. Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon -- This faux-documentary about an up-and-coming slasher about to make his first kill treats the world of slashers as real, with the slasher giving behind-the-scenes glimpses into choosing his victim, preparing his cardio for big chases, and rigging the killing location to herd his prey right where he wants them. Much like with Scream, many of the tropes he waxes philosophic on are turned on their heads later.
2. Shaun of the Dead -- Packed with more zed-word-film-related Easter Eggs, Shaun of the Dead does the least straight-forward verbalizing of its self-aware nature, but even a passing fan of the zombie genre, such as myself, can instantly pick up on its many shout outs to the work of Romero and others.
1. Cabin in the Woods -- Once again, I don't want to say too much about this so people can go into it fresh; suffice it to say that certain characters in this film are very, very aware of what genre they're living in, and the concordant conventions.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 28 -- 5 Favorite Sci-Fi Horror Flicks
5. Jason X -- Should not be surprising that this tongue-in-cheek installment in the Friday the 13th series makes my list; I haven't been shy about declaring it my favorite of the films.
4. Pitch Black -- This Vin Diesel vehicle about the survivors of a spaceship crash trying to escape a planet full of murderous nocturnal creatures while the planet is in an extended eclipse not only has some great effects and monster design, it also manages to ratchet up the "who will survive" tension so effectively that my guess for who would make it out alive was a bit off-base.
3. Slither -- James Gunn's feature length directorial debut about an alien parasite consuming a small town is blessed with a smart, funny script, a solid cast (including Nathan Fillion, Elizabeth Banks, Gregg Henry, and Michael Rooker), inventive creature effects, and some straight up creepy moments.
2. Alien-- The Alien franchise is infamous for how drastically different each installment is in tone, style, content, etc., and while most of the Alien films feel like more straightforward SF flicks, the original installment is a horror flick through-and-through.
1. John Carpenter's The Thing -- Another example of a film I praise so often that I probably don't need to go into any more detail here. The film's building sense of claustrophobia and paranoia, combined with some truly memorable special effects and creature designs, make this a must-see for anyone who even marginally enjoys horror films.
4. Pitch Black -- This Vin Diesel vehicle about the survivors of a spaceship crash trying to escape a planet full of murderous nocturnal creatures while the planet is in an extended eclipse not only has some great effects and monster design, it also manages to ratchet up the "who will survive" tension so effectively that my guess for who would make it out alive was a bit off-base.
3. Slither -- James Gunn's feature length directorial debut about an alien parasite consuming a small town is blessed with a smart, funny script, a solid cast (including Nathan Fillion, Elizabeth Banks, Gregg Henry, and Michael Rooker), inventive creature effects, and some straight up creepy moments.
2. Alien-- The Alien franchise is infamous for how drastically different each installment is in tone, style, content, etc., and while most of the Alien films feel like more straightforward SF flicks, the original installment is a horror flick through-and-through.
1. John Carpenter's The Thing -- Another example of a film I praise so often that I probably don't need to go into any more detail here. The film's building sense of claustrophobia and paranoia, combined with some truly memorable special effects and creature designs, make this a must-see for anyone who even marginally enjoys horror films.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 20 -- 5 Memorable Horror Movie Watching Experiences
Occasionally, my thoughts and feelings about a film are inextricably linked to my experience viewing them; here are a few of the most prominent horror movie examples.
Friday the 13th Pts. 1& 2 -- I was probably 7 or 8 at the time I saw my first Friday the 13th film. My parents were out on the town on one Friday the 13th evening, and my uncle was taking care of me. This was during the brief period of time that we actually had a cable channel that was willing to go far enough outside of town to reach our farm, and since It (the capital I is no mistake, the name of the channel was It) was showing the first two films in the series that night, my uncle decided to take my two slightly older cousins and myself over to my house to watch them. Of course, the house was locked, and I was too young to have a key (although, to be honest, by the time the house burned down before my junior year of college I still didn't have a key), and so we were forced to find a way to open the never-used door to my bedroom just enough for scrawny me to slip in and unlock the back door. We got that TV on just in time to find out who the killer was in pt.1 and were halfway through pt.2 when mom and dad got home.
Halloween III: Season of the Witch -- Largely decried as the worst of the Halloween franchise, Season of the Witch is probably the horror movie that freaked me out more than any other film I've seen, but that's largely situational. I was probably in 6th or 7th grade at the time, and was staying up late to watch it on TV. Or, rather, I was trying to stay up late, but wound up dozing off. I happened to wake up right at this sequence. While it probably wouldn't have bothered me at all any other time, I was still half-asleep and unsure if I was really awake or still dreaming, and wound up incorporating the scene into my dreams as I dozed off again; in my mind, that sequence is about 1000 times more disturbing.
Nightmare on Elm Street -- This one is memorable largely because of when I didn't watch it. My dad and his cousin had rented it when it first came out, and watched it while I was asleep. When I noticed it sitting by the VCR the next day and wanted to watch it, my dad wouldn't let me -- the first and only time he'd vetoed a horror movie. He said that it had gotten to both of the adults, so he was worried it would really freak me out. Instead, he just related the whole story to me. And then, just a week or two later, I was over at someone else's house and they had rented it so I got to see it after all; however, since I already knew the whole story, I was ready for every jolt.
Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors -- The only one of these stories that's not connected to my original viewing of the film. Instead, this experience happened one Halloween season when my friend Rebel Monkey and I were having a Nightmare on Elm Street marathon. As the films progressively slid down the "tongue in cheek" slope into utter ridiculousness we would increasingly turn to MST3K style commenting. But the highlight of all of them was the so-bad-she's-funny actress who played the character Taryn; just watching her own special brand of over-acting made the movie worthwhile. At one point one of the other actors accidentally calls her "Turn," a scene which we reran several times trying to make sure we heard what we thought we heard. A few weeks later, when a group of us went to see the local production of Jekyll and Hyde: The Musical, we both noticed one particularly strikingly scenery-chewer, prompting us to look at each other and exclaim "It's Turn!"
13 Ghosts -- After seeing the 2001 remake of 13 Ghosts, the same group of friends who'd gone to see the Jekyll and Hyde musical got together to watch a DVD of the original 1960 film. The DVD turned out to have the 3D version of the film but of course did not come equipped with any 3D glasses. Not to be deterred, we set about trying to construct our own makeshift 3D glasses out of saran wrap and some red and blue markers. The results were surprisingly effective, if slightly nauseating -- not because of the visuals, mind you, but because of the overpowering marker stench.
Friday the 13th Pts. 1& 2 -- I was probably 7 or 8 at the time I saw my first Friday the 13th film. My parents were out on the town on one Friday the 13th evening, and my uncle was taking care of me. This was during the brief period of time that we actually had a cable channel that was willing to go far enough outside of town to reach our farm, and since It (the capital I is no mistake, the name of the channel was It) was showing the first two films in the series that night, my uncle decided to take my two slightly older cousins and myself over to my house to watch them. Of course, the house was locked, and I was too young to have a key (although, to be honest, by the time the house burned down before my junior year of college I still didn't have a key), and so we were forced to find a way to open the never-used door to my bedroom just enough for scrawny me to slip in and unlock the back door. We got that TV on just in time to find out who the killer was in pt.1 and were halfway through pt.2 when mom and dad got home.
Halloween III: Season of the Witch -- Largely decried as the worst of the Halloween franchise, Season of the Witch is probably the horror movie that freaked me out more than any other film I've seen, but that's largely situational. I was probably in 6th or 7th grade at the time, and was staying up late to watch it on TV. Or, rather, I was trying to stay up late, but wound up dozing off. I happened to wake up right at this sequence. While it probably wouldn't have bothered me at all any other time, I was still half-asleep and unsure if I was really awake or still dreaming, and wound up incorporating the scene into my dreams as I dozed off again; in my mind, that sequence is about 1000 times more disturbing.
Nightmare on Elm Street -- This one is memorable largely because of when I didn't watch it. My dad and his cousin had rented it when it first came out, and watched it while I was asleep. When I noticed it sitting by the VCR the next day and wanted to watch it, my dad wouldn't let me -- the first and only time he'd vetoed a horror movie. He said that it had gotten to both of the adults, so he was worried it would really freak me out. Instead, he just related the whole story to me. And then, just a week or two later, I was over at someone else's house and they had rented it so I got to see it after all; however, since I already knew the whole story, I was ready for every jolt.
Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors -- The only one of these stories that's not connected to my original viewing of the film. Instead, this experience happened one Halloween season when my friend Rebel Monkey and I were having a Nightmare on Elm Street marathon. As the films progressively slid down the "tongue in cheek" slope into utter ridiculousness we would increasingly turn to MST3K style commenting. But the highlight of all of them was the so-bad-she's-funny actress who played the character Taryn; just watching her own special brand of over-acting made the movie worthwhile. At one point one of the other actors accidentally calls her "Turn," a scene which we reran several times trying to make sure we heard what we thought we heard. A few weeks later, when a group of us went to see the local production of Jekyll and Hyde: The Musical, we both noticed one particularly strikingly scenery-chewer, prompting us to look at each other and exclaim "It's Turn!"
13 Ghosts -- After seeing the 2001 remake of 13 Ghosts, the same group of friends who'd gone to see the Jekyll and Hyde musical got together to watch a DVD of the original 1960 film. The DVD turned out to have the 3D version of the film but of course did not come equipped with any 3D glasses. Not to be deterred, we set about trying to construct our own makeshift 3D glasses out of saran wrap and some red and blue markers. The results were surprisingly effective, if slightly nauseating -- not because of the visuals, mind you, but because of the overpowering marker stench.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 19 -- 10 Favorite Horror Directors
My favorite horror directors, in no particular order
- David Cronenberg -- Although I've enjoyed Cronenberg's more recent forays into other genres, I do miss his old school body horror films. The Fly, The Brood, Rabid, Shivers, and Videodrome all feature some wonderfully disturbing sequences. And we can't forget Scanners and its infamous exploding head.
- John Carpenter -- Carpenter is responsible for Halloween and The Thing, two of my all time favorite movies, as well as several other entertaining horror flicks like The Fog and Prince of Darkness; we'll all just pretend that Vampire$ didn't happen, okay?
- Peter Jackson -- Before he achieved mainstream success, Jackson's early work was very horror driven, although filtered through a Kiwi's twisted sense of humor. Dead Alive, The Frighteners, and the apropriately named Bad Taste made me a fan of Jackson's long before he brought Middle Earth to life.
- George Romero -- At times it's tempting to write Romero off as a one-trick pony, since his name is so closely associated with zombies, but he has several other entertaining horror films under his belt, including The Crazies, Monkey Shines, Creepshow, and the excellent Martin.
- Frank Henenlotter -- Not as well known outside horror fans as most of the others on the list, Henenlotter's work is darkly comic, occasionally perverse, and frequently twisted. Basket Case is my favorite of his films, but both Bad Biology and Brain Damage have a lot to recommend them too.
- Stuart Gordon -- He'd make this list for his Lovecraft adaptations (Re-Animator, From Beyond, Dagon) alone; the super-creepy Dolls is just icing on the cake
- Wes Craven -- Craven is a bit hit or miss with me, but when he hits -- Nightmare on Elm Street, Scream, The people Under the Stairs -- he hits big
- Guillermo del Toro -- I've been a fan of del Toro since Mimic, and most everything of his I've seen since (Cronos, The Devil's Backbone, Pan's Labyrinth) has cemented my admiration. Plus, he brought Hellboy to the big screen.
- Sam Raimi -- Raimi's horror output may be relatively small (Evil Dead trilogy and Drag Me to Hell), but the quality trumps the low quantity.
- Steven Miner -- I was having a hard time rounding out my list to 10, since several of the directors I'd like to have listed haven't had enough horror films under their belt to warrant their inclusion. But, while scouring lists of my favorite horror films looking for patterns I discovered Steven Miner, director of Friday the 13th Pt 2 & 3, as well as two of my favorite horror comedies: House and Lake Placid. Throw in guilty plesaure Warlock, and you have the perfect placeholder until Sean Gunn or Drew Goddard finally get around to making some more horror
Monday, October 15, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 15 -- 10 Favorite Slasher Flicks
Honorable mention: Nightmare on Elm Street: Personally, I don't think of the Elm Street movies as being slasher films, since the death-in-dreams concept moves it away from the more grounded aspects of the genre that appeal to me. On the other hand, just because the deaths happen in the dream-world doesn't mean that Freddy's behavior deviates from the usual slasher formula, and it tends to show up on everyone else's slasher lists, so I sort of feel compelled to mention it just to explain why it's not in the list.
10. Sleepaway Camp: On the whole, just your average "oh no, somebody's killing the campers!" flick. Fairly well done, but nothing super exciting. So what merits its place on this list? The ending. The big twist ending. The big "holy crap, what were they smoking when they came up with that?!?!" ending. If you want to know what the ending was, just ask my friend The Mag, who still carries the psychological scars with her to this day.
9. Child's Play: The later films went a little too far in the "wisecracking killer" department, but the first installment in the killer doll franchise does well with the novel concept. Plus, Brad Dourif doing voodoo; can't go wrong there.
8. Scream 4: One of those rare late-in-the-franchise sequels that really manages to capture the spirit, wit, and fun of the original. It was helped greatly by the fact that it was able to capitalize on the glut of horror remakes and apply the meta-commentary style of the first film to the latest horror trend.
7. Black Christmas: Of the various Christmas-themed horror films I've seen, Black Christmas stands out in terms of characters, tension, creepiness, and decision to not have the killer dress like Santa.
6. Popcorn: Entertaining early 90s horror flick about a group of film students who are picked off one by one while hosting a horror marathon . Lots of nods to classic horror films, engaging characters, and a fun script make this a movie that still holds up today.
5. Jason X: Yes, that's right; my sole Friday the 13th selection is "Jason in Space." Although I enjoy the early films in the franchise -- I've done marathons multiple times over the years -- in a lot of ways they all blend together enough that it's hard to pick one out as a favorite. Jason X, however, manages to take a concept that initially made me roll my eyes and turn it into a fun movie that embraces the inherent silliness and pays homage to all that came before.
4. Scream: First (and, perhaps not coincidently, best) of the overly-self-aware-and-self-referential horror films. Found just the right mix of humor, thrills, and pop culture for me.
3. Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Considering the near-mythic status the original film has obtained, I was pretty surprised the first time I saw it; in terms of slasher films, it was really pretty tame, gore-wise. That didn't lessen my enjoyment of the film, of course. Tons of creepy characters help propel the film, especially the near-mummified Grandpa. Creeps me out every time.
2. Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon: A faux-documentary showing the behind-the-scenes preparations that go into being a first rate slasher. Although filled with self-aware humor, this is most definitely a horror film, not a comedy, especially once the slasher's plans are set in motion. I just found out that a proposed sequel has had trouble getting funding, which makes me very sad.
1. Halloween: Best of the old-school slasher films. Yes, it set the dangerous precedent of "no matter what we do, he just won't die!" which would come to haunt the genre over the years, but the idea of Michael Myers as this unstoppable force of nature made it work incredibly well in this film. I always liked the creepy score as well.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 9 -- My 5 Favorite Stephen King Horror Movies
Yes, I had to qualify with "horror", as Stand By Me isn't all that Halloweeny. And to further qualify: these are my favorite King films, not necessarily the best. I won't argue against the fact that Carrie is, technically speaking, superior to at least 3/5 of my list, but at the same time, if I have a choice between re-watching it and re-watching any of the below, the choice is easy.
5. Children of the Corn -- You just can't go wrong with creepy killer kids. Yes, the ending is goofy as all get-out, but in a way, that only endears this to me more.
4. Creepshow --Probably the first horror portmanteau I ever saw. Highly stylized film that leans heavily on its comic book framing device, which is probably what made it resonate so much with me at a young age.
3. Silver Bullet -- I haven't watched this werewolf flick in many moons, but back in Elementary school I probably came close to wearing out the video store's copy.
2. Misery -- The first R rated movie I ever saw by myself at the theater. Kathy Bates' break-out role blew me away
1. The Shining -- I'm thankful I saw Kubrick's film long before I got around to reading what would turn out to be my favorite King novel; that way I didn't let the changes made color my impression of an excellent, creepy, beautifully filmed work.
5. Children of the Corn -- You just can't go wrong with creepy killer kids. Yes, the ending is goofy as all get-out, but in a way, that only endears this to me more.
4. Creepshow --Probably the first horror portmanteau I ever saw. Highly stylized film that leans heavily on its comic book framing device, which is probably what made it resonate so much with me at a young age.
3. Silver Bullet -- I haven't watched this werewolf flick in many moons, but back in Elementary school I probably came close to wearing out the video store's copy.
2. Misery -- The first R rated movie I ever saw by myself at the theater. Kathy Bates' break-out role blew me away
1. The Shining -- I'm thankful I saw Kubrick's film long before I got around to reading what would turn out to be my favorite King novel; that way I didn't let the changes made color my impression of an excellent, creepy, beautifully filmed work.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 4 -- 10 Horror Remakes That Justify Their Own Existence
If I've learned one thing from frequenting the Internet, it's that the prevalence of remakes are the death-knell of modern cinema in general, and the Horror genre in particular. And we all know the Internet is never wrong.
However, while a large number of the Horror remakes I've seen have struck me as a waste of time and money, there are a handful which have managed to justify their existence by putting enough of a twist on the original to not just feel like a tired retread, while also maintaining an acceptable level of quality in the script, direction, acting, etc. Inclusion in this list doesn't mean that the remake is superior to the original; it just means that the remake was on some level an enjoyable film.
10. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003) -- I tend to think of this as this the remake that really kicked off the Horror remake boom, but I try not to hold that against it. Although I'm a bigger fan of the 1974 original, whose rough and gritty visuals conjure a creepier tone than its slicker successor, I think the 2003 Massacre was still an effective film with some nice jump scares, which made it fun to watch in a crowded theater.
9. The Blob (1988) -- I will cop to the fact that I remember very little about this updating of the 1958 Steve McQueen vehicle, and reserve the right to come back and replace it with Cat People or the like if a re-watching proves it to not live up to my nearly 25 year old memories of it. With that caveat, my recollection is that this remake justified its existence by some nifty special effects and a more active version of the titular creature.
8. Dawn of the Dead (2004) -- Although many zombie purists disliked this remake's use of "fast" zombies, the frantic energy of the opening scene helped justify the decision; that being said, the 1978 original is by far my favorite straight zombie film.
7. Halloween (2007) -- The stylistic contrast between Rob Zombie's remake and John Carpenter's 1978 Horror classic is the flip side of the two Massacres, with Zombie's film feeling much grittier than Carpenter's. In addition, Zombie focuses a lot of time into the circumstances of Michael Meyers' life, in an attempt to lend some empathy to the character as a product of his upbringing. But, while I enjoyed the character exploration, humanizing Meyers even slightly served to diminish the air of menace that surrounded the original version's silent killing machine.
6. Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) -- This remake of the 1956 metaphor for the Red Scare justifies it existence simply for this
Everything else I could mention about this well done flick is secondary to Screaming Donald Sutherland
5. The Ring (2002)-- While there were things I preferred about the original Japanese version -- in particular the off-hand way that the father is portrayed as psychic -- it was nowhere near as creepy to me as Gore Verbinski's English language remake. I'd be tempted to chalk it up to cultural differences if this weren't the only such remake I found more disturbing than the Japanese original.
4. The Fly (1986) -- I'm a fan of director David Cronenberg's form of body-horror, and he puts it to good use in this film, which I think is superior to the original in almost every way but one -- no Jeff Goldblum-headed insect screaming "Help me! Help me!" in a high pitched voice.
3. Little Shop of Horrors (1986) -- Maybe this is a bit of a cheat, since it's more an adaptation of the play that was inspired by Roger Corman's 1960 film than a straight-up remake, but there's no way I could leave this off the list; I just wish they had kept the musical's original ending intact.
2. Fright Night (2011) -- Of all of the horror remakes I've seen, this was the one I was most trepidatious about, since the 1985 original is one of my favorite vampire movies of all-time. Thankfully, this turned out to be the epitome of what a remake should be: respectful of the original, without being slavishly devoted to it. Expect a more detailed review of this over at my Reviews of Doom page sometime soon
1. John Carpenter's The Thing -- If I have to explain to you why this is number one on my list, obviously you have never seen it. You should go rectify that. Now.
However, while a large number of the Horror remakes I've seen have struck me as a waste of time and money, there are a handful which have managed to justify their existence by putting enough of a twist on the original to not just feel like a tired retread, while also maintaining an acceptable level of quality in the script, direction, acting, etc. Inclusion in this list doesn't mean that the remake is superior to the original; it just means that the remake was on some level an enjoyable film.
10. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003) -- I tend to think of this as this the remake that really kicked off the Horror remake boom, but I try not to hold that against it. Although I'm a bigger fan of the 1974 original, whose rough and gritty visuals conjure a creepier tone than its slicker successor, I think the 2003 Massacre was still an effective film with some nice jump scares, which made it fun to watch in a crowded theater.
9. The Blob (1988) -- I will cop to the fact that I remember very little about this updating of the 1958 Steve McQueen vehicle, and reserve the right to come back and replace it with Cat People or the like if a re-watching proves it to not live up to my nearly 25 year old memories of it. With that caveat, my recollection is that this remake justified its existence by some nifty special effects and a more active version of the titular creature.
8. Dawn of the Dead (2004) -- Although many zombie purists disliked this remake's use of "fast" zombies, the frantic energy of the opening scene helped justify the decision; that being said, the 1978 original is by far my favorite straight zombie film.
7. Halloween (2007) -- The stylistic contrast between Rob Zombie's remake and John Carpenter's 1978 Horror classic is the flip side of the two Massacres, with Zombie's film feeling much grittier than Carpenter's. In addition, Zombie focuses a lot of time into the circumstances of Michael Meyers' life, in an attempt to lend some empathy to the character as a product of his upbringing. But, while I enjoyed the character exploration, humanizing Meyers even slightly served to diminish the air of menace that surrounded the original version's silent killing machine.
6. Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) -- This remake of the 1956 metaphor for the Red Scare justifies it existence simply for this
Everything else I could mention about this well done flick is secondary to Screaming Donald Sutherland
5. The Ring (2002)-- While there were things I preferred about the original Japanese version -- in particular the off-hand way that the father is portrayed as psychic -- it was nowhere near as creepy to me as Gore Verbinski's English language remake. I'd be tempted to chalk it up to cultural differences if this weren't the only such remake I found more disturbing than the Japanese original.
4. The Fly (1986) -- I'm a fan of director David Cronenberg's form of body-horror, and he puts it to good use in this film, which I think is superior to the original in almost every way but one -- no Jeff Goldblum-headed insect screaming "Help me! Help me!" in a high pitched voice.
3. Little Shop of Horrors (1986) -- Maybe this is a bit of a cheat, since it's more an adaptation of the play that was inspired by Roger Corman's 1960 film than a straight-up remake, but there's no way I could leave this off the list; I just wish they had kept the musical's original ending intact.
2. Fright Night (2011) -- Of all of the horror remakes I've seen, this was the one I was most trepidatious about, since the 1985 original is one of my favorite vampire movies of all-time. Thankfully, this turned out to be the epitome of what a remake should be: respectful of the original, without being slavishly devoted to it. Expect a more detailed review of this over at my Reviews of Doom page sometime soon
1. John Carpenter's The Thing -- If I have to explain to you why this is number one on my list, obviously you have never seen it. You should go rectify that. Now.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 3 - Top 5 Found Footage Films
Since yesterday's post might have come off a little negative towards the Found Footage sub-genre, I figured I should use today's post to list some examples where the format actually worked for me
5. The Blair Witch Project -- The one that helped kick off Found Footage as a go-to format. Not having watched this since it first came out over a decade ago, I don't know if its story of a group of would-be filmmakers lost in the woods would hold up for me in my current Found Footage weary state. That being said, I have to admit that the final shot is still one of the creepiest things I've ever seen in a film.
4.Paranormal Activity -- This haunted house story was almost a victim of its own hype with me, but by not relying solely on hand-held footage like the majority of the Found Footage films I'd seen before, they were able to open up the story and provide some nice creepy moments.
3. Quarantine/REC -- Having seen the American remake Quarantine long before the original Spanish REC, it's hard for me to distinguish much between the two, as the latter didn't deviate much from the former's plot. Both effectively used the claustrophobic nature of the setting to good effect.
2. Trollhunter -- This Norwegian flick about a group of students who stumble onto their government's cover-up of the existence of trolls gets bonus points just for being about something other than ghosts or zombies. Plus, the designs of the trolls never failed to amuse me.
1. Chronicle -- The only non-horror entry on the list, this entertaining exploration of three teenagers suddenly blessed/cursed with super-powers manages to make the "character is never without a video camera" work on a story level, which is rare. Even better, the film merges the character trait with his superpowers to set up a pretty creative way of covering the big battle scene at the end without damaging the film's Found Footage nature.
5. The Blair Witch Project -- The one that helped kick off Found Footage as a go-to format. Not having watched this since it first came out over a decade ago, I don't know if its story of a group of would-be filmmakers lost in the woods would hold up for me in my current Found Footage weary state. That being said, I have to admit that the final shot is still one of the creepiest things I've ever seen in a film.
4.Paranormal Activity -- This haunted house story was almost a victim of its own hype with me, but by not relying solely on hand-held footage like the majority of the Found Footage films I'd seen before, they were able to open up the story and provide some nice creepy moments.
3. Quarantine/REC -- Having seen the American remake Quarantine long before the original Spanish REC, it's hard for me to distinguish much between the two, as the latter didn't deviate much from the former's plot. Both effectively used the claustrophobic nature of the setting to good effect.
2. Trollhunter -- This Norwegian flick about a group of students who stumble onto their government's cover-up of the existence of trolls gets bonus points just for being about something other than ghosts or zombies. Plus, the designs of the trolls never failed to amuse me.
1. Chronicle -- The only non-horror entry on the list, this entertaining exploration of three teenagers suddenly blessed/cursed with super-powers manages to make the "character is never without a video camera" work on a story level, which is rare. Even better, the film merges the character trait with his superpowers to set up a pretty creative way of covering the big battle scene at the end without damaging the film's Found Footage nature.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The Spoiler Effect: To Know, or Not to Know?
If you've spent much time reading about and/or discussing your entertainment type of choice, odds are good that you have come across examples of the dreaded spoiler, i.e. plot and character information about something you haven't yet watched/read/listened to/downloaded directly into your cerebellum.* And if you peruse message boards and comment sections, odds are even better that you've run into people who are on both sides of the spoiler debate; to wit, whether a spoiler is truly harmful to a person's enjoyment of a work or not. Recently, the pro-spoiler camp got some new ammo in the fight with the release of a study that's been reported all over the place in articles bearing variations of "Spoilers Don't Spoil Anything" as a headline. After seeing the umpteenth "Science proves spoilers are harmless!" article, I decided as a member of the anti-spoiler camp it was time for me to compose a rebuttal.
One argument that gets trotted out a lot by spoiler proponents is along the lines of "If the big twist is all something has going for it, it's not really worth much, is it?" And yes, I will concede that there are some works out there whose primary value is of the shock variety, and therefore lose most of their potency when the audience is deprived of said shock. However, to say that something only has shock value is not to say that it has no value at all; and, if something's value is tied directly into the twist, why would you feel the need to ruin that experience for someone? Not everything is designed to be viewed or read over and over again; I don't believe disposable entertainment is the downfall of our culture as long as there are still other works out there that engage people on other levels.
A related argument says "If a work is done well, then what does it matter whether you know what's going to happen? The skill and talent involved will make it worthwhile regardless." This argument often relies on the concept of re-reading and re-watching to drive its point home, the idea being that when you experience a work a second time, you know what's going to happen and you still enjoy it, so therefore you would have enjoyed it in the first place no matter what. What the people who use this argument fail to grasp is that just because you can enjoy a work even with spoilers doesn't mean that your level of enjoyment is the same, nor is the type of enjoyment you experience the same.
Let's take a couple of examples from my own life. First, the film Serenity. I love this film, and have watched it multiple times without my enjoyment of it lessening at all. However, my first viewing was a distinctly different experience from all subsequent viewings due to the high level of tension I felt over the fate of the characters. In the final act of the film, there is a distinct moment for each character wherein that character could possibly die, and with each of those moments I felt a stab of fear that this character I loved might be gone for good. Now, if I had gone in knowing ahead of time precisely which characters would survive and which wouldn't, that tension and fear that kept me glued to the screen would have been lessened; and, while I can still watch the film and enjoy it for the writing, acting, direction, action, etc., I will never again be able to reproduce that original feeling. But at the same time, when I re-watch the film, I can sometimes feel echoes of that tension, and remember just how powerfully it affected me the first time.
On the flip side is the movie Psycho. By the time I saw the Hitchcock classic my 7th grade year -- caution, mild spoilers ahead -- the shower scene and the secret of Norman's mother had long since been burned into my brain through pop culture awareness, and my highly anticipated viewing of it was quite underwhelming. You could chalk part of that up to my being a callow youth at the time, but what people sometimes forget about Psycho is that those unfamiliar with the plot went in thinking that Janet Leigh's character would be the protagonist throughout, making her death at the end of the first act extremely shocking. I, however, went in with a working knowledge of the Bates Motel set-up and the circumstances of her demise, so the shower sequence lost a great deal of its impact.
Of course, in both of these cases, pro-spoiler advocates might argue that I'm only conjecturing how I might have reacted in the presence of absence of spoilers, but I can't really know for sure; and, while it might be true that I can't know 100%, my overall experience of reading and watching both spoiled and non-spoiled entertainment has given me a pretty solid foundation upon which to base my conclusions.
"But Todd," the pro-spoilers among you might be asking, "so far you've been talking about general pro-spoiler arguments, but what about the study that sparked this diatribe? Are you arguing against science?"
No, of course not. What I am arguing against is a study whose sweeping conclusions about the value of surprise -- or lack thereof -- appear to be an example of comparing apples and oranges. The study is based on giving a group of undergraduates a selection of short stories, some with spoilers attached, some without, and then having them rate their enjoyment of each. They found that the enjoyment factor was generally larger among those who had been spoiled as opposed to those who hadn't, ergo spoilers don't hurt.
Oh, where to begin . . .
First of all, let's get the fact that the subjects enjoyed "literary" stories less than the more genre pieces out of the way -- after all, while it might show that the subjects picked weren't interested in more complex works, it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with whether spoilers matter or not . . . although, since the study's argument rests largely on the "people prefer to deal with familiar things because they're easier" premise, it could actually be relevant . . . but I digress.
No, for me the more pressing factor is that the researchers took a small sample of people, assigned them some short stories to read, took their general rankings of enjoyment and then extrapolated it into "spoilers mean nothing, people who think they do are wrong, this could shatter our very understanding of surprise and suspense!"
Except, well, no, not really. Because first of all, short stories are not novels or TV series or movies or Comic books or plays or any other long-form piece of literature which, by their nature, rely more on developing tension and suspense over a greater period of time to achieve their effect. All formats are not created equally; each has its own strengths and weaknesses, and assuming that you can take the results of testing one type of work and apply it to all types of works is a fallacy**.
And secondly, there is a little thing called "context" involved in determining whether or not a spoiler has a negative effect on an audience member. If someone were to pull me aside, give me a random short story to read, and intro it with "And by the way, the narrator dies at the end," would I be upset and feel my enjoyment had been harmed? Possibly not. But, let's say someone were to give me the long-awaited sequel to one of my favorite books that I had been anticipating for a decade, and then tell me "It's crazy that they killed off the main character's wife on the last page, isn't it?" then, yes, odds are good that I'm going to be upset. While I am firmly anti-spoiler in my philosophy, in practice I find that I prefer certain works to remain a mystery before experiencing them, while others I couldn't care less whether they were spoiled or not. Context and emotional connection are key.
I think that's one of the things that bothers me most about the pro-spoiler camp; in addition to the one-size-fits-all, it-doesn't-bother-me-so-it-shouldn't-bother-you method of arguing, they often try to divorce all reactions to works from any emotional connection. When someone blurts out a spoiler for something you've been highly anticipating, the negative feelings generated by their carelessness can color your enjoyment of the work. That may not be rational, but it is definitely human. Trying to ignore that aspect of the spoiler phenomenon seems to be missing the point.
In the Wired article I linked to at the top, the author -- who came into this as someone who likes to read the last five pages of a book first -- comes up with his own rationalizations for why spoilers are meaningless, including this snippet:
Like I said earlier, I too have times when I indulge in spoilers, although for me it's usually in the context of sporting events or other competitions -- if someone I really like (GSP, OSU, Colts) is going up against someone I really loathe (Koscheck, OU, Patriots) and I can't watch it live, I will often go ahead and look at the results before watching so I won't give myself an ulcer hoping the good guys win out. But on the whole, when it comes to fiction, I prefer to be kept in the dark as much as possible beforehand so I can experience the work as its creators intended.
In conclusion I'd like to say this: if you're someone who enjoys knowing as much as you can about something before you read or watch it, then there's nothing wrong with that. But when you force that information onto someone who doesn't enjoy it, or deride them for their desire to be spoiler-free, it's a different story.
Audience participation time: How do you feel about spoilers? Do you want it all laid out beforehand, or do you want to be surprised at every turn?
*That last one is for future readers/downloaders.
**As is taking the study and applying it to surprise parties and wrapping presents; apparently, enjoying "An Occurance at Owl Creek Bridge" more because you know the narrator's dead means that all forms of surprise lessens all forms of enjoyment in the world.
One argument that gets trotted out a lot by spoiler proponents is along the lines of "If the big twist is all something has going for it, it's not really worth much, is it?" And yes, I will concede that there are some works out there whose primary value is of the shock variety, and therefore lose most of their potency when the audience is deprived of said shock. However, to say that something only has shock value is not to say that it has no value at all; and, if something's value is tied directly into the twist, why would you feel the need to ruin that experience for someone? Not everything is designed to be viewed or read over and over again; I don't believe disposable entertainment is the downfall of our culture as long as there are still other works out there that engage people on other levels.
A related argument says "If a work is done well, then what does it matter whether you know what's going to happen? The skill and talent involved will make it worthwhile regardless." This argument often relies on the concept of re-reading and re-watching to drive its point home, the idea being that when you experience a work a second time, you know what's going to happen and you still enjoy it, so therefore you would have enjoyed it in the first place no matter what. What the people who use this argument fail to grasp is that just because you can enjoy a work even with spoilers doesn't mean that your level of enjoyment is the same, nor is the type of enjoyment you experience the same.
Let's take a couple of examples from my own life. First, the film Serenity. I love this film, and have watched it multiple times without my enjoyment of it lessening at all. However, my first viewing was a distinctly different experience from all subsequent viewings due to the high level of tension I felt over the fate of the characters. In the final act of the film, there is a distinct moment for each character wherein that character could possibly die, and with each of those moments I felt a stab of fear that this character I loved might be gone for good. Now, if I had gone in knowing ahead of time precisely which characters would survive and which wouldn't, that tension and fear that kept me glued to the screen would have been lessened; and, while I can still watch the film and enjoy it for the writing, acting, direction, action, etc., I will never again be able to reproduce that original feeling. But at the same time, when I re-watch the film, I can sometimes feel echoes of that tension, and remember just how powerfully it affected me the first time.
On the flip side is the movie Psycho. By the time I saw the Hitchcock classic my 7th grade year -- caution, mild spoilers ahead -- the shower scene and the secret of Norman's mother had long since been burned into my brain through pop culture awareness, and my highly anticipated viewing of it was quite underwhelming. You could chalk part of that up to my being a callow youth at the time, but what people sometimes forget about Psycho is that those unfamiliar with the plot went in thinking that Janet Leigh's character would be the protagonist throughout, making her death at the end of the first act extremely shocking. I, however, went in with a working knowledge of the Bates Motel set-up and the circumstances of her demise, so the shower sequence lost a great deal of its impact.
Of course, in both of these cases, pro-spoiler advocates might argue that I'm only conjecturing how I might have reacted in the presence of absence of spoilers, but I can't really know for sure; and, while it might be true that I can't know 100%, my overall experience of reading and watching both spoiled and non-spoiled entertainment has given me a pretty solid foundation upon which to base my conclusions.
"But Todd," the pro-spoilers among you might be asking, "so far you've been talking about general pro-spoiler arguments, but what about the study that sparked this diatribe? Are you arguing against science?"
No, of course not. What I am arguing against is a study whose sweeping conclusions about the value of surprise -- or lack thereof -- appear to be an example of comparing apples and oranges. The study is based on giving a group of undergraduates a selection of short stories, some with spoilers attached, some without, and then having them rate their enjoyment of each. They found that the enjoyment factor was generally larger among those who had been spoiled as opposed to those who hadn't, ergo spoilers don't hurt.
Oh, where to begin . . .
First of all, let's get the fact that the subjects enjoyed "literary" stories less than the more genre pieces out of the way -- after all, while it might show that the subjects picked weren't interested in more complex works, it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with whether spoilers matter or not . . . although, since the study's argument rests largely on the "people prefer to deal with familiar things because they're easier" premise, it could actually be relevant . . . but I digress.
No, for me the more pressing factor is that the researchers took a small sample of people, assigned them some short stories to read, took their general rankings of enjoyment and then extrapolated it into "spoilers mean nothing, people who think they do are wrong, this could shatter our very understanding of surprise and suspense!"
Except, well, no, not really. Because first of all, short stories are not novels or TV series or movies or Comic books or plays or any other long-form piece of literature which, by their nature, rely more on developing tension and suspense over a greater period of time to achieve their effect. All formats are not created equally; each has its own strengths and weaknesses, and assuming that you can take the results of testing one type of work and apply it to all types of works is a fallacy**.
And secondly, there is a little thing called "context" involved in determining whether or not a spoiler has a negative effect on an audience member. If someone were to pull me aside, give me a random short story to read, and intro it with "And by the way, the narrator dies at the end," would I be upset and feel my enjoyment had been harmed? Possibly not. But, let's say someone were to give me the long-awaited sequel to one of my favorite books that I had been anticipating for a decade, and then tell me "It's crazy that they killed off the main character's wife on the last page, isn't it?" then, yes, odds are good that I'm going to be upset. While I am firmly anti-spoiler in my philosophy, in practice I find that I prefer certain works to remain a mystery before experiencing them, while others I couldn't care less whether they were spoiled or not. Context and emotional connection are key.
I think that's one of the things that bothers me most about the pro-spoiler camp; in addition to the one-size-fits-all, it-doesn't-bother-me-so-it-shouldn't-bother-you method of arguing, they often try to divorce all reactions to works from any emotional connection. When someone blurts out a spoiler for something you've been highly anticipating, the negative feelings generated by their carelessness can color your enjoyment of the work. That may not be rational, but it is definitely human. Trying to ignore that aspect of the spoiler phenomenon seems to be missing the point.
In the Wired article I linked to at the top, the author -- who came into this as someone who likes to read the last five pages of a book first -- comes up with his own rationalizations for why spoilers are meaningless, including this snippet:
The human mind is a prediction machine, which means that it registers most surprises as a cognitive failure, a mental mistake. Our first reaction is almost never “How cool! I never saw that coming!” Instead, we feel embarrassed by our gullibility, the dismay of a prediction error.As someone whose counts among his favorite works ones which generated the "How cool! I never saw that coming!" effect, I find this line of thought puzzling. Which in turn brings me back to the cornerstone of the Enjoyment Modifiers schema: the tautology of "Different People Are Different." There are those who go into a movie or novel trying to guess everything that's going to happen, and they might very well suffer disappointment when they guess wrong; then there are those such as myself who just want to submerge themselves in the experience and let it unfold before them, and they will probably react to surprises with enjoyment at where the ride has taken them.
Like I said earlier, I too have times when I indulge in spoilers, although for me it's usually in the context of sporting events or other competitions -- if someone I really like (GSP, OSU, Colts) is going up against someone I really loathe (Koscheck, OU, Patriots) and I can't watch it live, I will often go ahead and look at the results before watching so I won't give myself an ulcer hoping the good guys win out. But on the whole, when it comes to fiction, I prefer to be kept in the dark as much as possible beforehand so I can experience the work as its creators intended.
In conclusion I'd like to say this: if you're someone who enjoys knowing as much as you can about something before you read or watch it, then there's nothing wrong with that. But when you force that information onto someone who doesn't enjoy it, or deride them for their desire to be spoiler-free, it's a different story.
Audience participation time: How do you feel about spoilers? Do you want it all laid out beforehand, or do you want to be surprised at every turn?
*That last one is for future readers/downloaders.
**As is taking the study and applying it to surprise parties and wrapping presents; apparently, enjoying "An Occurance at Owl Creek Bridge" more because you know the narrator's dead means that all forms of surprise lessens all forms of enjoyment in the world.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Enjoyment Modifiers: Science Fiction
Modifier: Science Fiction
Category: Genre
Type: Positive
Strength: High (Literature, Comics) Medium (Movies, TV)
For many people, the genre of Science Fiction conjures up images of spaceships, aliens, and futuristic landscapes, but really it encompasses a wide range of possibilities: time travel, alternate history, psychic abilities, mutations, extrapolations of scientific theories and concepts, etc. There's "hard" Sci-Fi, where all of the scientific principles are grounded in cold, hard fact -- at least as understood at the time of writing -- and then there's the branch where the laws of physics are treated more as suggestions. At its core, Science Fiction is about conjuring up a world different from our own, in ways both large and small.
One of my pet peeves is hearing a writer/actor/director/producer/etc. claim that a Sci-Fi project they're involved in isn't really a Sci-Fi project, but instead something "serious." You know, the typical "Oh, sure, we're a series set in outer space that involves sentient robots hunting down a fleet of spaceships bearing the last remnants of humanity, but we're more of a Tense Character Drama than a Science Fiction show" type of comment. This always infuriates me, as it ghettoizes the genre in a way that not only insults its fans, but also ignores the fact that Science Fiction has long been a genre which lends itself to introspection, philosophical musings, political commentary, satire, and examination of the human condition. And no, not all Science Fiction is concerned with such lofty intellectual goals, but to suggest that adding literary merit automatically removes a text from the genre is asinine.
Much like with Horror, my love of Science Fiction stems from the inventiveness and departures from the norm inherent in the genre. At the same time, Sci-Fi is the flip side of Horror in terms of which media I'm willing to cut more slack. For Sci-Fi I'm much more forgiving of the printed word than I am film; also, the MST3K Effect comes into play much less often. I believe this is because, for me, Science Fiction is largely a genre built around ideas, and when those ideas are lacking or poorly executed, the work loses me. I have low tolerance for lapses in internal consistency in Sci-Fi works; I don't care if your work plays fast and loose with science, as long as your world's rules don't contradict each other. And while Horror can often win me over with its tone and atmosphere, for Science Fiction that's a much rarer feat; yes, I can be swayed by cool visuals or effects, but they have to be well-executed, or else I'm drawn out of it.
Another aspect of Science Fiction that appeals to me is the concept of world-building. I love discovering the details of a society and culture vastly different from our own conjured up out of whole cloth, whether it be an alien world or a future shaped by radical technology shifts or a past where key events happened in vastly different ways; watching these details unfold and admiring the imagination that fuels them is one of the things that makes Science Fiction one of my favorite genres.
Audience Participation Time: Do you love all things Science Fictiony, or does anything with an out-of-this-world flavor kill your interest immediately? If you are a fan, are there any particular sub-genres you'd like to see me tackle? Comment away below, and then join me next week for a look at Sci-Fi's chaotic sibling, Fantasy.
Category: Genre
Type: Positive
Strength: High (Literature, Comics) Medium (Movies, TV)
For many people, the genre of Science Fiction conjures up images of spaceships, aliens, and futuristic landscapes, but really it encompasses a wide range of possibilities: time travel, alternate history, psychic abilities, mutations, extrapolations of scientific theories and concepts, etc. There's "hard" Sci-Fi, where all of the scientific principles are grounded in cold, hard fact -- at least as understood at the time of writing -- and then there's the branch where the laws of physics are treated more as suggestions. At its core, Science Fiction is about conjuring up a world different from our own, in ways both large and small.
One of my pet peeves is hearing a writer/actor/director/producer/etc. claim that a Sci-Fi project they're involved in isn't really a Sci-Fi project, but instead something "serious." You know, the typical "Oh, sure, we're a series set in outer space that involves sentient robots hunting down a fleet of spaceships bearing the last remnants of humanity, but we're more of a Tense Character Drama than a Science Fiction show" type of comment. This always infuriates me, as it ghettoizes the genre in a way that not only insults its fans, but also ignores the fact that Science Fiction has long been a genre which lends itself to introspection, philosophical musings, political commentary, satire, and examination of the human condition. And no, not all Science Fiction is concerned with such lofty intellectual goals, but to suggest that adding literary merit automatically removes a text from the genre is asinine.
Much like with Horror, my love of Science Fiction stems from the inventiveness and departures from the norm inherent in the genre. At the same time, Sci-Fi is the flip side of Horror in terms of which media I'm willing to cut more slack. For Sci-Fi I'm much more forgiving of the printed word than I am film; also, the MST3K Effect comes into play much less often. I believe this is because, for me, Science Fiction is largely a genre built around ideas, and when those ideas are lacking or poorly executed, the work loses me. I have low tolerance for lapses in internal consistency in Sci-Fi works; I don't care if your work plays fast and loose with science, as long as your world's rules don't contradict each other. And while Horror can often win me over with its tone and atmosphere, for Science Fiction that's a much rarer feat; yes, I can be swayed by cool visuals or effects, but they have to be well-executed, or else I'm drawn out of it.
Another aspect of Science Fiction that appeals to me is the concept of world-building. I love discovering the details of a society and culture vastly different from our own conjured up out of whole cloth, whether it be an alien world or a future shaped by radical technology shifts or a past where key events happened in vastly different ways; watching these details unfold and admiring the imagination that fuels them is one of the things that makes Science Fiction one of my favorite genres.
Audience Participation Time: Do you love all things Science Fictiony, or does anything with an out-of-this-world flavor kill your interest immediately? If you are a fan, are there any particular sub-genres you'd like to see me tackle? Comment away below, and then join me next week for a look at Sci-Fi's chaotic sibling, Fantasy.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Enjoyment Modifiers: Horror
As the first full exploration of my Enjoyment Modifiers, I suppose I should explain the format I've settled on. First, I'll give a nice itemized breakdown of the modifier name, category the modifier fits into (Genre, Plot point, Character type, etc.), type of modifier (Positive, Negative, Neutral), and the strength of the modifier to effect my enjoyment on average. For type and strength there could be multiple values, since some things effect me differently depending on the medium, as demonstrated by our first entry. After the bare bones breakdown, I'll then pontificate about why it affects me, and maybe post a few examples. So, without further ado, on to the EM exploration.
Modifier: Horror
Category: Genre
Type: Positive
Strength: High (Film, TV) Low (Literature, Comics)
When it comes to TV and Film, I'd hazard to say that the genre of Horror is one of my most consistently powerful positive Enjoyment Modifiers, regardless of subgenre; it doesn't matter if it's vampires, slasher, werewolves, demons, or zombies*, if it's a Horror movie then odds are good I'm going to enjoy it, even if just ironically. This love of Horror fiction stems from several aspects of my personality.
First, it appeals to the part of me that is drawn to the outre, the unique, the inventive, the out-of-this-world. I have a feeling this aspect of my personality is going to pop up a lot in these posts, as I've found that I'm willing to give much more leeway to anything that's a bit "out there" than I am a more "normal" film of the same general quality. So, anything with a supernatural theme already has my interest, and even the horror featuring regular human slashers usually gets a bump from featuring some original death sequences.
Second, it appeals to my darker side; I have a cynical streak which finds boundless optimism in fiction cloying and off-putting, but with the bulk of Horror films, even when the good guys win -- and with horror that is not even close to a given -- there's generally a fatalism that resonates with my own. This fascination with the darker side of things also applies to the bleak, dreary, and creepy atmospheres you often find in Horror flicks.
Third, even the less stellar examples of horror can provide for that need that many of us share: a need for mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum that allows us to turn off our brains for a bit and just enjoy ourselves. For many people action movies fill this role; for others, it's romantic comedies or procedurals. But for me, when I'm in the mood to just vegetate, I will always turn to a B-movie filled with slashers or giant animals wreaking havoc on Z-grade actors. This is probably why out of all the genres, Horror gets the biggest boost from the MST3K effect.
Please note: I'm not saying all Horror is mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum -- just that when it is, I'm more likely to enjoy it than other examples of mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum.
In regards to the printed page, however, the bonus is much lower. Part of that is due to the fact that I prefer to get my mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum in moving picture form, and not in typeset; the whole point of such entertainment is to turn your brain off for a bit and just vegetate, and I find it much more difficult to zone out while reading.
Another factor is that I am not a particularly visual thinker, and thus the perennial bit of wisdom about how the pictures in your imagination are better than anything that makes it onto the screen doesn't always hold water for me, particularly when it comes to conjuring up mental images of the dark and disturbing things that populate Horror fiction. Not that it can't happen; I've gotten completely creeped out by descriptive passages from Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, Clive Barker, and others. But the amount of verbal skill required for a writer to take me to that place means that it's not as sure a thing as a well designed and directed film.
How about you, my blog monkeys? Are you fellow gorehounds, or do you eschew all things horrific? If you are a horror aficionado, are there any particular sub-genres (vampire, slasher, zombie, etc.) that you'd like me to discuss? Sound off below, and come back next Thursday for a look at another big Genre: Science Fiction.
*Well, maybe it matters a little if it's zombies -- zed-word burnout has diluted the Horror bonus quite a bit there -- will talk more about that in a sub-genre post at some point.
Modifier: Horror
Category: Genre
Type: Positive
Strength: High (Film, TV) Low (Literature, Comics)
When it comes to TV and Film, I'd hazard to say that the genre of Horror is one of my most consistently powerful positive Enjoyment Modifiers, regardless of subgenre; it doesn't matter if it's vampires, slasher, werewolves, demons, or zombies*, if it's a Horror movie then odds are good I'm going to enjoy it, even if just ironically. This love of Horror fiction stems from several aspects of my personality.
First, it appeals to the part of me that is drawn to the outre, the unique, the inventive, the out-of-this-world. I have a feeling this aspect of my personality is going to pop up a lot in these posts, as I've found that I'm willing to give much more leeway to anything that's a bit "out there" than I am a more "normal" film of the same general quality. So, anything with a supernatural theme already has my interest, and even the horror featuring regular human slashers usually gets a bump from featuring some original death sequences.
Second, it appeals to my darker side; I have a cynical streak which finds boundless optimism in fiction cloying and off-putting, but with the bulk of Horror films, even when the good guys win -- and with horror that is not even close to a given -- there's generally a fatalism that resonates with my own. This fascination with the darker side of things also applies to the bleak, dreary, and creepy atmospheres you often find in Horror flicks.
Third, even the less stellar examples of horror can provide for that need that many of us share: a need for mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum that allows us to turn off our brains for a bit and just enjoy ourselves. For many people action movies fill this role; for others, it's romantic comedies or procedurals. But for me, when I'm in the mood to just vegetate, I will always turn to a B-movie filled with slashers or giant animals wreaking havoc on Z-grade actors. This is probably why out of all the genres, Horror gets the biggest boost from the MST3K effect.
Please note: I'm not saying all Horror is mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum -- just that when it is, I'm more likely to enjoy it than other examples of mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum.
In regards to the printed page, however, the bonus is much lower. Part of that is due to the fact that I prefer to get my mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum in moving picture form, and not in typeset; the whole point of such entertainment is to turn your brain off for a bit and just vegetate, and I find it much more difficult to zone out while reading.
Another factor is that I am not a particularly visual thinker, and thus the perennial bit of wisdom about how the pictures in your imagination are better than anything that makes it onto the screen doesn't always hold water for me, particularly when it comes to conjuring up mental images of the dark and disturbing things that populate Horror fiction. Not that it can't happen; I've gotten completely creeped out by descriptive passages from Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, Clive Barker, and others. But the amount of verbal skill required for a writer to take me to that place means that it's not as sure a thing as a well designed and directed film.
How about you, my blog monkeys? Are you fellow gorehounds, or do you eschew all things horrific? If you are a horror aficionado, are there any particular sub-genres (vampire, slasher, zombie, etc.) that you'd like me to discuss? Sound off below, and come back next Thursday for a look at another big Genre: Science Fiction.
*Well, maybe it matters a little if it's zombies -- zed-word burnout has diluted the Horror bonus quite a bit there -- will talk more about that in a sub-genre post at some point.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The MST3K Effect, or "So Bad It's Good"
While the concept of Enjoyment Modifiers dwells upon specific components of works creating resonance or dissonance within the audience, it's important to remember that the modifiers still need a base to work off of -- a base composed of the overall quality of the craft put into the work: writing, acting, directing, editing, etc. Logically, the lower the quality of the work, then the more powerful the positive modifiers need to be to make the work enjoyable.
Unless, that is, you have a personality type which is susceptible to The MST3K Effect.
For those unfamiliar with it, MST3K stands for Mystery Science Theater 3000, the late lamented TV series based around a group of people endlessly mocking low quality films. While MST3K might not have invented the concept of deriving enjoyment through ridiculing B-movies, its popularity has made it one of the most recognizable examples of the idea that sub-par works can sometimes be enjoyed not despite their flaws, but because of them.
As I said, it takes a particular type of personality to derive pleasure from bad movies/TV/literature; as you are probably aware by now, I am possessed of just such a personality. There's just something about scenery chewing actors, dime-store quality special effects, and IQ sapping plot points that amuses the heck out of me.
Please note that there is definitely a difference between something being "bad" and something being "so bad it's good." There's a sweet spot of awfulness that a work has to hit in order for its lack of quality to move from painful to entertaining. For example, I recently watched both Leprechaun In the Hood and its sequel, Leprechaun: Back 2 the Hood, and while I found the former to be a laugh riot, the latter was a struggle to get through.
Also, that sweet spot can vary from person to person -- my "so bad it's good" flick can be another person's "terminally unwatchable," and vice versa; after hearing so much about the low budget Birdemic, I was eagerly looking forward to a roller coaster ride of entertaining awfulness, but was instead bored out of my mind for 2/3 of the film's running time.
Personally, that's a large factor of what separates a "bad" work (like Vampire$) from a "so bad it's good" work (Troll 2) -- the boredom factor. If there's nothing of even mild interest going on for huge stretches of time, then not even the occasional burst of mind-blowing crappiness can fully engage the MST3K effect. Let's face it -- there's a good reason why Mystery Science Theater 3000 would cut out huge sections of movies from episodes other than making time for commercial breaks and invention exchanges.
Genre can also play a factor on whether a bad movie attracts or repels; I have a weakness for shoddily done horror movies, and to a lesser extent bad Sci-Fi flicks, but it takes a special brand of awful to get me to sit through a poorly done drama or romantic comedy. I'll probably explore this more in my individual Enjoyment Modifiers posts when relevant.
Now, as you may have been able to tell from the examples I keep using, the MST3K effect mostly comes into play for me when it comes to film, and not so much in other media -- a bad horror movie is going to suck me in most every time, but a bad horror novel will get thrown down in disgust. But this, too can vary for different people. A prime example is Comics Alliance's Senior Batmanologist Chris Sims, who has gotten great mileage out of mocking several B-grade comic series; and while I have derived great pleasure from reading Sims' mockery of these books, I know that I would be unable to make it all the way through them on my own power.
Are you susceptible to the MST3K Effect? Or do all bad movies/books/etc. just leave a bad taste in your mouth?
Unless, that is, you have a personality type which is susceptible to The MST3K Effect.
For those unfamiliar with it, MST3K stands for Mystery Science Theater 3000, the late lamented TV series based around a group of people endlessly mocking low quality films. While MST3K might not have invented the concept of deriving enjoyment through ridiculing B-movies, its popularity has made it one of the most recognizable examples of the idea that sub-par works can sometimes be enjoyed not despite their flaws, but because of them.
As I said, it takes a particular type of personality to derive pleasure from bad movies/TV/literature; as you are probably aware by now, I am possessed of just such a personality. There's just something about scenery chewing actors, dime-store quality special effects, and IQ sapping plot points that amuses the heck out of me.
Please note that there is definitely a difference between something being "bad" and something being "so bad it's good." There's a sweet spot of awfulness that a work has to hit in order for its lack of quality to move from painful to entertaining. For example, I recently watched both Leprechaun In the Hood and its sequel, Leprechaun: Back 2 the Hood, and while I found the former to be a laugh riot, the latter was a struggle to get through.
Also, that sweet spot can vary from person to person -- my "so bad it's good" flick can be another person's "terminally unwatchable," and vice versa; after hearing so much about the low budget Birdemic, I was eagerly looking forward to a roller coaster ride of entertaining awfulness, but was instead bored out of my mind for 2/3 of the film's running time.
Personally, that's a large factor of what separates a "bad" work (like Vampire$) from a "so bad it's good" work (Troll 2) -- the boredom factor. If there's nothing of even mild interest going on for huge stretches of time, then not even the occasional burst of mind-blowing crappiness can fully engage the MST3K effect. Let's face it -- there's a good reason why Mystery Science Theater 3000 would cut out huge sections of movies from episodes other than making time for commercial breaks and invention exchanges.
Genre can also play a factor on whether a bad movie attracts or repels; I have a weakness for shoddily done horror movies, and to a lesser extent bad Sci-Fi flicks, but it takes a special brand of awful to get me to sit through a poorly done drama or romantic comedy. I'll probably explore this more in my individual Enjoyment Modifiers posts when relevant.
Now, as you may have been able to tell from the examples I keep using, the MST3K effect mostly comes into play for me when it comes to film, and not so much in other media -- a bad horror movie is going to suck me in most every time, but a bad horror novel will get thrown down in disgust. But this, too can vary for different people. A prime example is Comics Alliance's Senior Batmanologist Chris Sims, who has gotten great mileage out of mocking several B-grade comic series; and while I have derived great pleasure from reading Sims' mockery of these books, I know that I would be unable to make it all the way through them on my own power.
Are you susceptible to the MST3K Effect? Or do all bad movies/books/etc. just leave a bad taste in your mouth?
Monday, August 1, 2011
Enjoyment Modifiers
When I first started this spin-off blog, I mentioned that I'd like to use it to explore some of my thoughts about different genres and concepts. Well, that exploration begins now with a series of posts about what I've taken to calling Enjoyment Modifiers.
So, what exactly are Enjoyment Modifiers? Well, when discussing the concept with my friend Bubblegum Tate*, he grokked the concept from the name itself : "I'm immediately thinking in RPG terms," he said. "+10% bonus if MODOK is in it." Which summed up the concept so well, that I had to include it.
On the most basic level, with questions of quality removed from the equation, they are the components of a work which effect how much we enjoy the work as a whole, either positively or negatively. Put another way: with a strong enough positive modifier attached to a work, you can power through an amazing amount of dreck, whereas with a strong negative modifier, not even Shakespearian levels of writing or acting can entice you to finish watching/reading.
The modifiers can be just about anything, from overall genre (Horror, Thriller, Comedy), sub-genre (Slasher, Caper, RomCom) to specific plot elements (Splitting Up In Dangerous Situations, One Of Us Is a Traitor, Split Up Over Misunderstanding) to character types (Cocky Jock, Fast-talking Grifter, Quirky Best Friend).
What makes it even more fun is the fact that the effects of these modifiers are different for different people, depending on our tastes and preferences. For example, while my father and I both find the overall genre of Science Fiction to be a Positive Enjoyment Modifier, the sub-genre of Alternate Timelines is positive for me, but negative for him, so I read/watch them like crazy while he avoids them if he can.
Having a good grasp of what constitutes an individual's personal Enjoyment Modifier profile is key to giving effective recommendations -- which might seem like a no-brainer, but after spending a lot of time on Twitter and in the Onion A.V. Club's** comment sections, I can guarantee that there are a lot of people out there who assume that all right-minded people share their tastes and any who don't are morons.
Anyway, owing to the large amounts of pop culture I ingest on a regular basis branding me as the go-to guy for many of my friends and family when it comes to movie/TV/book recommendations, I have tried to decipher as many of their Enjoyment Modifiers as I can. So, I know that Flunky is drawn to stories where a lowly commoner becomes a great hero and my parents don't like movies that glamorize thieves and Firestorm checks out when things get bloody and Shack-Fu loves kick-ass military movies and so on and so forth.
And of course, if I can better understand how my own Enjoyment Modifiers affect my reading/viewing experience, then it becomes easier for me to divorce my experience from my recommendations to a certain degree . . . or at least qualify them. "No, I didn't care for that film," I might say, "but that's largely due to Awkward Continual Lying For No Good Reason being an enormously negative Enjoyment Modifier for me." Or something like that.
Not that it's an exact science, by any means; the modifiers aren't always additive, and sometimes all the positive modifiers in the world can't save a work from one pervasive negative modifiers; there are some modifiers which vary from format to format; some modifiers are more conditional, with their positive effects being proportional to the quality of the work; and I'm sure there are lots of other exceptions and oddities that will pop up along the way. But in terms of trying to explain why this movie everyone else loves is something I loathe with a fiery passion ***, well, I think it's a pretty handy tool.
So, in the coming weeks, I'll be examining some of my more prominent Enjoyment Modifiers: trying to decipher why they affect me and giving some examples. It's highly likely this will fall into the "only interesting to me" category of posts****, but since when has that ever stopped me?
The plan is to have one of these post every Thursday afternoon. While we're waiting for my first official entry to post, please feel free to mention some of your own Enjoyment Modifiers in the comment section, and I'll be sure to add them to the list of things I'll talk about.
*A.K.A. soon-to-be-published novelist Joshua Unruh who has given me permission to name check him as much as I want as part of his new self-promotion initiative.
**Pretty sure that 99% of the AV Club commenters would list "quirky characters" as a -900000 modifier
***I'm looking at you, Meet the Parents
****Or, more accurately, interesting to me and Mr. Unruh, who was very intrigued by the concept and has been encouraging me to write the post so he can comment on it.
So, what exactly are Enjoyment Modifiers? Well, when discussing the concept with my friend Bubblegum Tate*, he grokked the concept from the name itself : "I'm immediately thinking in RPG terms," he said. "+10% bonus if MODOK is in it." Which summed up the concept so well, that I had to include it.
On the most basic level, with questions of quality removed from the equation, they are the components of a work which effect how much we enjoy the work as a whole, either positively or negatively. Put another way: with a strong enough positive modifier attached to a work, you can power through an amazing amount of dreck, whereas with a strong negative modifier, not even Shakespearian levels of writing or acting can entice you to finish watching/reading.
The modifiers can be just about anything, from overall genre (Horror, Thriller, Comedy), sub-genre (Slasher, Caper, RomCom) to specific plot elements (Splitting Up In Dangerous Situations, One Of Us Is a Traitor, Split Up Over Misunderstanding) to character types (Cocky Jock, Fast-talking Grifter, Quirky Best Friend).
What makes it even more fun is the fact that the effects of these modifiers are different for different people, depending on our tastes and preferences. For example, while my father and I both find the overall genre of Science Fiction to be a Positive Enjoyment Modifier, the sub-genre of Alternate Timelines is positive for me, but negative for him, so I read/watch them like crazy while he avoids them if he can.
Having a good grasp of what constitutes an individual's personal Enjoyment Modifier profile is key to giving effective recommendations -- which might seem like a no-brainer, but after spending a lot of time on Twitter and in the Onion A.V. Club's** comment sections, I can guarantee that there are a lot of people out there who assume that all right-minded people share their tastes and any who don't are morons.
Anyway, owing to the large amounts of pop culture I ingest on a regular basis branding me as the go-to guy for many of my friends and family when it comes to movie/TV/book recommendations, I have tried to decipher as many of their Enjoyment Modifiers as I can. So, I know that Flunky is drawn to stories where a lowly commoner becomes a great hero and my parents don't like movies that glamorize thieves and Firestorm checks out when things get bloody and Shack-Fu loves kick-ass military movies and so on and so forth.
And of course, if I can better understand how my own Enjoyment Modifiers affect my reading/viewing experience, then it becomes easier for me to divorce my experience from my recommendations to a certain degree . . . or at least qualify them. "No, I didn't care for that film," I might say, "but that's largely due to Awkward Continual Lying For No Good Reason being an enormously negative Enjoyment Modifier for me." Or something like that.
Not that it's an exact science, by any means; the modifiers aren't always additive, and sometimes all the positive modifiers in the world can't save a work from one pervasive negative modifiers; there are some modifiers which vary from format to format; some modifiers are more conditional, with their positive effects being proportional to the quality of the work; and I'm sure there are lots of other exceptions and oddities that will pop up along the way. But in terms of trying to explain why this movie everyone else loves is something I loathe with a fiery passion ***, well, I think it's a pretty handy tool.
So, in the coming weeks, I'll be examining some of my more prominent Enjoyment Modifiers: trying to decipher why they affect me and giving some examples. It's highly likely this will fall into the "only interesting to me" category of posts****, but since when has that ever stopped me?
The plan is to have one of these post every Thursday afternoon. While we're waiting for my first official entry to post, please feel free to mention some of your own Enjoyment Modifiers in the comment section, and I'll be sure to add them to the list of things I'll talk about.
*A.K.A. soon-to-be-published novelist Joshua Unruh who has given me permission to name check him as much as I want as part of his new self-promotion initiative.
**Pretty sure that 99% of the AV Club commenters would list "quirky characters" as a -900000 modifier
***I'm looking at you, Meet the Parents
****Or, more accurately, interesting to me and Mr. Unruh, who was very intrigued by the concept and has been encouraging me to write the post so he can comment on it.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
100 Things I Love About The Movies
Inspired by a blog post over at Siskoid's Blog of Geekery -- which was in turn inspired by similar posts elsewhere -- I've decided to come up with my own list. The following is a hodge-podge of all sorts of different things I love about the movies, mostly unironically. This is not an exhaustive list by any means, but just the first hundred things that popped into my mind over the last several days; please feel free to add your own thoughts or "You forgot"s in the comments.
- The "Day O" sequence in Beetlejuice
- "I am a leaf on the wind."
- Cary Grant in Arsenic and Old Lace
- Nicole Kidman's monologues in To Die For
- Naomi Watt's audition in Mullholand Drive
- The never-ending fist fight in They Live
- Nightcrawler storming the White House in X2
- Spike Jonze/Charlie Kaufman collaborations
- Ben Affleck and Matt Damon mocking themselves in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
- Fred Astaire's effortless dancing
- Steve Martin's physical comedy in All of Me
- Robert Downey Jr.'s narration in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
- Amy Adams.
- Peter Dinklage's "dwarf" speech in Living in Oblivion
- Joan Cusack's "Barbie" speech in Addams Family Values
- Terry Gilliam's dark and twisty worlds
- Ennio Morricone's scores
- Madeline Khan
- Katherine Hepburn's "The calla lillies are in bloom again" performance in Stage Door
- Kirsten Dunst in Interview With the Vampire
- The power of the Coke bottle in The Gods Must Be Crazy
- "Wheel of Fish" in UHF
- "I drink your milkshake!"
- Jim Carrey channeling "Amok Time" in The Cable Guy
- Ed Norton in Primal Fear
- The battle on Hoth in Empire Strikes Back
- Edna Mode and the perils of capes in The Incredibles
- The toy commercial in The Specials
- Simon Pegg/Edgar Wright collaborations
- The fight scenes in Bloodsport
- Marty Feldman in Young Frankenstein
- Christoph Waltz in Inglorious Basterds
- "I want my two dollars!"
- Val Kilmer in Tombstone
- The soundtracks to Quentin Tarantino movies
- Hammy in Over the Hedge
- The zero-g fight in Inception
- The fight scenes in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
- The structure of Memento
- Christopher Guest's mockumentaries
- Paul Rudd in Wet Hot American Summer
- Nic Cage in Vampire's Kiss
- Jean Claude Van Damme's monologue in JCVD
- Anna Kendrick
- The Coen Brothers
- The ensemble of future stars in Dazed in Confused
- The ensemble of comedy geniuses in Clue
- The alien in John Carpenter's The Thing
- Kevin Kline in A Fish Called Wanda
- "Hey Boy" sequence in American Astronaut
- The stylized worlds of Jean-Pierre Jeunet
- Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream
- The interconnectedness of Magnolia
- The alien in Slither
- All the shenanigans in Super Troopers
- The hallway fight in Oldboy
- The merging of noir and high school in Brick
- "We Both Reached for the Gun" number in Chicago
- The affectionate parody of 50s b-movies in Lost Skeleton of Cadavra
- Random musical numbers in non-musicals
- The Toon bullets in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
- The affable spirits of the dead in An American Werewolf in London
- Fast-paced banter in screwball comedies
- Pigs as projectiles in District 9
- The dialogue-free beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey
- "Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion."
- Gollum arguing with Smeagol in Lord of the Rings
- Michael Keaton's Coca-Cola addiction in The Paper
- The affectionate parody of Blaxploitation films in Black Dynamite
- The video-game aesthetic of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World
- Colin Farrell in In Bruges
- The hologram campers in Jason X
- The anachronistic music of Moulin Rouge
- Having a largely worthless film partially redeemed by an innovative/entertaining moment or scene
- Will Ferrell in Elf
- Glenn Close in Dangerous Liaisons
- "A Town Called Malice" scene in Billy Elliot
- Lambda Lambda Lambda Rap in Revenge of the Nerds
- Puppet Dracula musical in Forgetting Sarah Marshall
- Johnny, king of the nonsense response in Airplane
- Will Ferrell and Adam Scott having the world's most uncomfortable sibling hug in Step-Brothers
- Creepy little kids in horror movies -- bonus points if twins, super bonus points if gingers
- Hobie's unreliable journal narration in The Sasquatch Gang
- The Brawndo (It's got electrolytes! [gesture]) vs. water (Like out da toilet?) debate in Idiocracy.
- The non sequitur internal monologues in The Informant
- Paul Verhoeven's Sci-Fi oeuvre
- "Ned? Ned Ryerson?"
- Game of Questions in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead
- Audrey Hepburn and Alan Arkin's cat-and-mouse game in Wait Until Dark
- Max's nostalgia speech in Kicking and Screaming
- The robot fist fight in Eurotrip
- Bill Murray in The Man Who Knew Too Little
- The litany of insults in Roxanne
- Aaron Eckheart in Thank You For Smoking
- The rave in Groove
- Brad Pitt's accent in Snatch
- Intricate but internally consistent time travel stories
- The jerkin' subliminal messages in Josie and the Pussycats
- "I am Jack's complete lack of surprise."
- B-grade movies and below that allow me to practice my own MST3K skills
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