Horror Movie Review: Beetlejuice

Beetlejuice (1988) is a movie I'm sure you've seen at least ten times, so I'm not going to spend a lot of time describing it. It's a Tim Burton movie that includes all of the usual Tim-Burton-ness and Danny Elfman did the score, 'cause he always does the score for Burton's films.

Still a super fun film. The only thing that upset me was how gross Michael Keaton's Beetlejuice looks, but he's supposed to look that way, so whatevs. Oh, and the characters are SUPER white-washed...was there anyone of color in this movie? The dead voodoo dude might have been the only one.

I was really surprised by the treatment of women in this movie. It passed the Bechdel Test within the first five minutes and with the exception of Beetlejuice's general crudeness, there was no sexism present whatsoever and the women in this movie were just as complex and respected as the men.

Overall an enjoyable movie, great for the whole family! Except for an f-bomb and a couple of other language moments, you could totally watch this with your kid. I know I saw it at the age of 6 when it first came out and I turned out totally fiiiiiiiine.

Aesthetic/Visual Effects: 3.5

Plot: 4.0

Characters: 4.0

Sound/Score: 3.0

Treatment of Women/Minorities: 4.0 (very whitewashed, despite being kind to women)

Rewatchability: 4.0

Overall: 22.5

Horror Movie Review: Interview With The Vampire

Claudia's transformation.

Interview With The Vampire (1994) is based on the Anne Rice novel of the same name and is one of the most beautiful horror films of all time. It's so gorgeous to look upon that one could make a pretty compelling argument against it even being classified as a horror film. Most of this review can be summed up by two major points: 1) preeeeeeetty and 2) you don't like women much, do you? Like, you don't even think about them at all...this was written by a woman?!?

As a book series, I genuinely enjoy Rice's Vampire Chronicles. Her version of vampires as elegant, tortured and beautiful souls works for me and as I've written before, her vampire origin story chronicled in Queen of the Damned is the most believable and intriguing, in my opinion. I know it's uncool to like Anne Rice novels, but I do and I refuse to apologize.

Now, take a moment to look upon Brad Pitt's pillowy lips, mint-green eyes and supreme broody-vulnerability. Go ahead, take your time.

The vulnerability of Louis (Pitt's character) is one of the most intriguing aspects of his character. He was THE tortured vampire before Angel from Buffy. Tortured souls are my Achille's Heel and godDAMN that man is resplendent in this film! Though he's undoubtedly a beautiful man, Pitt doesn't usually do it for me, but you would have no idea this was the case watching me drool over him in this role. He's pouty, he's pretty, and he's pale: the Mixtress-Rae-swoon-trifecta. And that hair!! I have to move on, because all I have to say here, obvi, is PREEEEEEEEEEETTTTTY!

To add to the pretty, this film truly holds up in the categories of score, makeup and visual effects. The vampire transformations (see Claudia's above) still look good. The animatronics and makeup techniques of Lestat's death look truly horrific and realistic and this was before film's heavy reliance on digital effects. Elliot Goldenthal's score for the movie references the time in which these vampires lived (from late 1700's to late 1980's) while employing full orchestras and drama drama harpsichord drama. It's delicious. The vampire fangs are my favorite of any vampires in film ever (you can see these in Claudia's transformation at the top of the post). I really like that both the lateral incisors AND the cuspids that you'd normally associate with fang teeth are pointed. I also like that they are always pointed. Their fangs don't come out like switchblades like in True Blood or anything. One of the only things I don't like about Buffy is that the vampires can look normal when they're not in "vamp-face". I mean, what's the point in being an otherworldly creature if you don't get to look like one all the time? The eyes in this movie, man...Brad Pitt's Louis has these piercing mint-green eyes that glow. It looks magnificent and truly did the vampire eyes of the book justice. Every visual in this film is decadent and delightful.

This film takes its beauty so seriously that it gives women and men alike what we've mostly been starved for in our culture, especially by the film's release in 1994: homo-erotica! Everything we see is a tease because Anne Rice's vampires can't, you know, but I don't care because it's hot! We see Antonio Banderas and Brad Pitt almost make out in a drawn-out scene of extreme closeness and hair everywhere. Behold!

I haven't mentioned Lestat yet. Tom Cruise does his Tom Cruise thing in this movie and that works for this character just fine, but his visage just doesn't catch my eye when there are long-haired and pale versions of Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderas around. Sorry not sorry.

Ok, so you get it. Every visual and every sound in this movie is pretty. The performances from almost all the leading actors are pretty solid as well.

Let's move on to the movie's one HUGE, glaring, and terrible flaw. It treats women like total trash, literally. Women are mothers or children or whores and always, with no exceptions, victims. And where are the people of color? Oh, they're slaves and victims too. Grrrr. The only leading woman is a girl, Kirsten Dunst (then 12) as Claudia. She's made into a vampire at age 10 or so (grosssss!) and because of this, she never grows into a woman and is weaker than other vampires so she has to literally rely on the men in her life (Lestat and Louis). Most women in this movie are whores that die mid-orgasm (their pleasure caused by dying, not by sex) at the hands of mostly Lestat, so at least you get to see them having a good time, but they're nameless victims treated dismissively. Claudia does kill a couple of men, but most victims in this film are women and most beautiful vampires are men. The film barely passes the Bechdel Test, and only because of ONE line towards the last 1/4 of the movie. The treatment of women characters in this film is a really really big disappointment, but it's the only downside to a thoroughly enjoyable movie.

Aesthetics/Visual Effects: 4.5

Plot: 3.5

Characters: 4.0

Sound/Score: 4.5

Treatment of Women/Minorities: 1.0

Rewatchability: 4.0

Overall: 21.5

Horror Movie Review: Bride of Frankenstein

"More fearful than the monster himself!"

The Bride of Frankenstein (1935) is one of, if not THE, first movie sequel and it's largely thought of to be better than 1931's Frankenstein. The director James Whale was an out gay man. OUT in 1935, children! Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus" is the first science fiction piece of culture EVER.

The bride herself, as a character, is one of the most iconic images in horror, though she never came to life in the book and is BARELY onscreen in the film of her namesake. That's the biggest flaw with this film, in my opinion. You see the bride hissing and jerking magnificently for the last maybe 3 minutes of the film. You wait and you wait and you wait for her to come to life and take the monster and Frankenstein down with her superior strength and angry confusion, but sadly, it isn't to be.

The film's score was created especially for the movie, which was a new thing in 1935. The film also exhibited humor, which is something horror is still squeamish about employing.

I have more thoughts about the imagery than anything else about this movie. Frankenstein's monster and the bride are both images that have prevailed in our culture for 80 years now. The machinery in the film used to reanimate the bride is also breathtaking. The bride is sewn into my backpack I wear every day. I want to embody her glamorous horror. She is an inspiration to me. The character has lived on in many other films. There's an excellent article about the progression of the character in pop culture here.

The movie taken on its own without all the iconic history surrounding it is still quite enjoyable. The score was a little distracting and the wilting-fainting-ness of Frankenstein-the-scientist's soon-to-be wife is nauseating, but that scene with the blind guy and the monster is emotional and genuine, even by today's standards. You have sympathy for the monster, you laugh, and you wait for the bride to arrive...that's the film in a nutshell. The cinematography is, as I wrote above, simply breathtaking.

My Ratings

Aesthetics/visual effects: 3.8

Plot: 2.5

Characters: 3.5

Sound/Score: 2.5

Treatment of Women/Minorities: 1.0

Rewatchability: 3.0

OVERALL: 16.3

The search for my Top Ten Horror Movies, part 1.

Happy Autumnal Equinox, e’erybody!!

I’ve been thinking about horror films lately. It’s been awhile since I watched my favorite horror movies. Also, I haven’t seen several of the iconic movies from the horror genre. You see where I’m going with this, right? It’s time for a rewatch/watch-for-the-first-time and review blogfest!!

Disclaimers/Caveats/Rules of the Rate:

Disclaimer: I am definitely a fan of horror, but my love of it is mostly due to gothic imagery and the potential for girl villainy. I enjoy a good psychological thriller, but the “being hunted by hillbillies in the woods” and “being tortured by psychotic individuals” oeuvre are not for me. I like being worried and maybe a little freaked out, but I don’t enjoy things that are disgusting or overly violent. I like my gore to be beautiful, not squishy. Also, I can almost guarantee if there’s a rape scene, I am OUT. Immediately.

Caveats: I am limited to movies I own, movies I can check out at the library, and movies that are available on Netflix or Hulu. This will by no means be a complete list. Thems the breaks. Shaun of the Dead should probably be on this list. Perhaps I’ll add it later, but I’m really mad at Simon Pegg right now because his last few movies have been crap-fests with terrible treatment of women characters. I thought you were on our side, Simon...WTF?!

Rules of my rating system: I’ll be scoring these movies on 6 factors (Aesthetics/Visual Effects, Plot, Characters, Score/Music/Sound Effects, Rewatchability, and Treatment of Women/Marginalized Groups) on a scale of 1-5. These scores will be added for an overall possible score of up to 30 points. They will be ranked at the end of the project using these scores. I can then present you with Mixtress Rae’s top 5 (or maybe 10) horror movies of all time. I’m limiting myself to reviewing only 25 movies so that I can hopefully finish the project by October 31st or at least somewhere around Day of the Dead (November 2nd). This list could definitely be a LOT longer. If you think I’m missing something really important, give me a good defense of a title you think I should add and I’ll consider it (provided you let me borrow it if I can’t find it at the library, Netflix, or Hulu). For the most part, I’m sticking to first in series. The exceptions are sequels that have more badass girl villains than their debuts.

Here is the list of movies that I’m planning to rewatch/review that will likely have a better shot at hitting the top five (or ten):

*Bride of Frankenstein

*Interview with the Vampire

*Queen of the Damned

*Scream

*The Ring

*Carrie

*Alien

*Cabin in the Woods

*Blair Witch Project

*The Descent

*Poltergeist

*The Cell

*28 Days Later

*Hellraiser

*return of the Living Dead 3

*Beetlejuice

*Cube

*Resident Evil

*The Crow

*Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Here is the list of horror movies I’ll be watching for the first time/rating:

*The Haunting

*Friday the 13th

*A Nightmare on Elm Street

*The Shining

*Only Lovers Left Alive

Ok, that’s it. I’ve already watched two of these movies, so reviews will be up soon. I wanted to let y’all know what I’m doing because I’m super excited. Tell me YOUR favorite horror movies. Oh, and if we’re friends IRL and you like any of these movies, let me know and we can watch them together!!!

Digital Witness: a 2014 mix

I didn't put out a zine at the beginning of 2015 with my best of 2014 disc attached like I normally do and I'm sick of looking at my angst-words from the last few blog entries, so here's my best of 2014 mix (above from YouTube, below is the tracklist).

DIGITAL WITNESS: a 2014 mix
by MixtressRae

Two Weeks // FKA twigs
West Coast // Lana Del Rey
Digital Witness // St. Vincent
I Look Fuckin' Cool // Adore Delano and Alaska Thunderfuck
Lost Boys and Girls Club // Dum Dum Girls
High Ball Stepper // Jack White
Go // Grimes
Get Well // Nothing
Paper Bag // LaziRae (not on YouTube playlist but embedded below)

Yellow Flicker Beat // Lorde
Ultraviolence // Lana Del Rey
Interference // Thom Yorke
Queen // Perfume Genius
Days Are Dreaming // Goldbloc
A Friend // Say Yes Dog
Silver // Caribou
Clearing // Grouper
West Coast (Solomun Remix Dub)

defaults

I kind of hate that everything I write here lately is just sadness. anxiety. depression. woe.

The facts are that I am healthy. I have a home. I have friends. I have family. I have a great job...several, in fact. I have resources.

But these things fall away when your brain isn't ok. And it's not as if I won't survive. I am resilient and like I said, I have resources.

But the only things I think are moment-to-moment survival. I'm trying not to complain because so many others have it so much worse, which is why I won't promote this particular blog.

There's been a death in my best friend's immediate family. I don't even have the words for how she must be feeling right now. I keep trying to offer paltry advice on what I know of PTSD but all I have to compare her experiences to is the stupid tornado.

And THAT is something I really really wish with all of my heart that I could forget. I'm tired of being a wreck every time the wind blows. I'm tired of the anxiety that descended upon my brain in 2011 that hasn't let go. I've had more of it in the last 4 years than the rest of my life combined.

I went to Florida for the funeral. I left my wallet in Florida. Because I didn't have my ID at the airport I had to undergo a background check, have my bags thoroughly searched, and a thorough pat-down (with gloves and everything). Because of that, I haven't wanted to be touched since then even though the woman was very professional. I dreamed of being molested. I keep feeling my breasts being grabbed at (even though that is NOT what happened at all).

I'm really quite fragile.

I know I need therapy. And probably medication. But instead I curl into a ball. I drink. I cry. I take shallow breaths.

Sometimes this world wreaks death and disaster and trauma and isn't kind at all. It takes good people from us. It takes down our childhood homes. It scatters our sentimental objects. It rapes and it kills and it decimates us.

But there's also a wealth of good people on this earth...people willing to help without being asked. People ready to give you exactly what you need before you even know you need it. There is so much goodness in other beings on this earth. We do what we can to help each other.

I know I will survive this depression like I've survived all others. I've GOT to believe I will eventually ignore a thunderstorm like I used to pre-2011. That stupid word: hope. But it's there and peace will come as it always has. Goodness and calm are more prevalent than malice and upheaval.

As time (and hormones) would have it...

I'm again sitting at a computer tasked with updating my blog whilst under the influence of brain chemistry that is (and has been for over a week now) causing, but is not limited to:

*anxiety
*sweating
*not sweating when I am so hot I could DIE (usually in the middle of the night)
*acne of the volcanic variety
*bloating
*a pervasive hatred of every one and every thing in my path
*clumsiness
*impatience
*pinched nerves? I don't know...there's this exciting new aspect to my extreme PMS that is presenting itself as a neck injury. It very well might BE a poorly-timed neck injury.
*constipation
*overall confusion and inability to perform basic tasks

The fun thing about hormones is that one really never knows when the dragon-breath of fiery hell will descend upon thee or for how long or WHYYYYYYYY. Sometimes I don't even realize my period is about to arrive until it's herrrrre(!!) and I'm curled in a ball on the floor hoping I don't die. And I need a change of pants. Sometimes I'm an emotional wrecking ball for two weeks beforehand and the period itself is like a shot of dopamine and cupcakes. Sometimes the whole thing is uneventful. Sometimes the

ENTIRE.

THREE WEEKS.

beforeduringandafter is a torment I feel I will never emerge from.

That's been my month. The really exciting part is that I will probably finally start the damn flow of blood and tissue from my lady-parts sometime tomorrow as I work among small children in the library (small children that squeal and squeak and cry and frequently scream like pterodactyls) from 9am-4pm. As soon as I get off work we're due for thunderstorms all evening. great. just. fucking. fantastic.

I only have like 4 beers in my house. No WAY is that enough sedation-aids to make it through this week.

P.S.-- I'm sick of not being allowed to talk about period stuff. I usually do to a degree anyway, but this is officially me no longer holding back. I have what could be diagnosed as PMDD (Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder) which basically means that I have extreme susceptibility to hormone fluctuations and really intense PMS. I think women should speak up about it more because it's something that effects us. We are hardcore for enduring it. Most women can endure it without others having any idea they are, unlike me. ;)

P.S.S.-- You don't need to be concerned about me. It's my body and everything works itself out. I could be completely fine tomorrow and the entire week after that. I'm venting. I have to do it...it's like a compulsion.

* anxiety *

is an acquaintance I'd like to unfriend...that sounded cooler in my head.

Having one of those general malaise days. One of those occasions in which you know FOR SURE that you're the biggest loser in the entire world and why would anyone like you and will you ever get the things in life you want probably not why even try, etc etc.

Everything I think today is a thought the most emo of emos would think is ridiculous. And I KNOW it is ridiculous to find myself the WORST person ever. Surely, someone sucks more than me. And yet I am on the precipice of panic all day anyway. Great fun. Good times. Noodle salad.

I know I need to post a blog 'cause I said I'd post one every Saturday and it's Tuesday. This is the result of me forcing myself to blog. And typing might just calm me. Haven't taken a Valium yet...

The older I get the more I realize that I'm just not meant for noise, people, or stimuli of any kind. Earlier as I was working at the children's desk a child was screaming in that special hell way that kids scream and he sustained it for about 45 minutes. I went mad after the first five minutes. The mother was immune.

Also am experiencing a particularly high level of my particular form of what I am convinced is dyspraxia (aka Developmental Coordination Disorder: in which one has "trouble manipulating objects in the physical universe", has poor working memory, and cannot remember steps in sequence, etc). This makes me not want to move, like at ALL. This makes me drop everything. This makes me fall down. This makes my anxiety at not being able to do normal things that other people can do easily even MORE pronounced. I know I know, poor disabled Stephanie. Boo-fucking-hoo!

People have a tendency to ask why you're anxious when you claim you are. This is a question like "why are you depressed?" The whole reason why it sucks so bad and that you cannot logic yourself out of it is that there is no reason! Brain chemistry, maybe? Perhaps hormones? That's brain chemistry too though, right?

The rabbit-hole of a reason I'm cooking up this time is that I feel like I have no skills in this life. No people skills. No crafting skills. No art skills. Anything that requires me to work with my hands is intensely difficult for me. The only thing I find mostly easy is typing. I don't like to drive cars or ride a bike or run because of that whole "manipulating objects in the physical universe" thing. I don't drive in front of others especially.

When I'm alone I can kind of function. I still drop things and fall, but I don't have to know that anyone else knows. I can just be. I can dance and run into doorways without being comedy. Most of the time I'm ok with being comedy, if someone is a nice person they can laugh at me. It's when they're TRYING to be nice by not laughing that makes me self-conscious. What am I even talking about anymore?

I hate everything and everyone...not really, I love YOU of course.

Princess Bride.

You know what sucks? Princess Bride doesn't pass the Bechdel Test and it's really not girl-friendly movie at all. I've always genuinely enjoyed it but there's NO ONE of color in that movie and TWO chicks in the entire thing. Three if you count the dream sequence hag, and I don't.

I watched it tonight with the teens for a Quote-Along program and it just disappointed me to watch a movie I've seen a dozen times in my life (if not more) not uphold any of my values at all as an adult. Buttercup wasn't even a "helpful damsel" really. She was completely helpless. She did nothing forcefully or assertively but profess her love.

And there was the dream sequence with the hag and then Carol Kane as "wife of Billy Crystal"-whatever. I keep thinking about that award speech Julianne Moore gave recently wherein she talked about how amazing each of her fellow nominees were and that as a woman she doesn't get to act with other women often and how sad that is.

I'm so over this nonsense. A demographic that is 50% of the human population shouldn't be 5% of an ensemble movie cast.

OVER. IT.

I hate that I can't enjoy Princess !fucking! Bride anymore because of my pervasive feminism. But it is as it should be. I'm done falling into lightning sand and standing still screaming while the fire pits consume me.

(untitled)

I believe we all have something within the labyrinth of our minds that no one else can offer, but that doesn't mean I know what the something is that I bring to the table.

I've built a mythology around my life and my past and who I think I am, but that doesn't mean anyone else will ever recognize that structure. Maybe no one else is meant to see inside the worlds in our heads. When people become famous it's because someone has recognized their brains. It means they've seen inside your grey matter and they recognize themselves in there somewhere. But when you see that they've seen you, how do you come back from that? Fame destroys everything it touches, doesn't it? How can you remain real when everyone thinks they know you?

The tiny thought that I might be a career librarian passed through a couple of weeks ago, but that Master's degree has already whispered into someone else's ears. I'm far too disabled to ever hold down a full time job and that's not insecurity...it's fact. I won't effect change in this life beyond my tiny circle of family and friends. Few among us really do.

I spend my days working, reading, watching TV, playing Animal Crossing, writing blogs, broadcasting radio, maybe I work out, maybe I eat some Pad Thai. At worst I'm ineffectual. At best I'm barely noticed. I know there's some kind of art inside my brain, but I don't know the circumstances that will bring it out of me, and onto you.

I'm writing in journals again. I've made it 32 years in this world without psychotropic medication, though far more sane than I benefit from it. Is holding out noble? Do I really want to feel everything?

I have a husband that tolerates all aspects of my crazy with grace and kindness. I didn't die in 2011. I have three wonderful animals that follow me around the house as if I'm their Snow White. I survived multiple abusive and/or controlling men. I have a great job. TWO great jobs. My mother continues to take care of me way beyond the reasonable time period in which she was charged. My grandparents are two of the most amazing people in the entire universe. I love my family. I have a best friend that has continually forgiven me for being the worst. Everyone is kind to me. But I give so little in return because I have so little to give.

I always thought of myself as an accepting person that loves everyone, but I'm starting to realize I dislike more people than I like. Though I somehow still believe my requirements for trusting someone are reasonable, I trust VERY few people. All I want in a companion is acceptance and authenticity. I want the self they show to be the real one. I want to surround myself with people that aren't racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, etc. That's truly it. But so few people seem to be themselves.

We all wear masks so often we don't know who we are anymore. I can't wear the mask for long. I couldn't wear it 8 hours a day. I distrust those motivated by power or the need to be liked.

I push everyone away because I don't know how to connect. It will all find its way in time.