JAMES CAMERON’S ‘TITANIC.’ (1997) REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

titanic poster

JAMES CAMERON’S ‘TITANIC.’ (1997) WRITTEN, PRODUCED AND DIRECTED BY JAMES CAMERON. STARRING KATE WINSLET, LEONARDO DICAPRIO, FRANCES FISHER, BILLY ZANE, BERNARD HILL, KATHY BATES, GLORIA STUART, BILL PAXTON, SUZY AMIS AND DAVID WARNER. CHEESY THEME TUNE PERFORMED BY CELINE DION. MUSIC BY JAMES HORNER.

REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

‘If celebrities didn’t want people pawing through their garbage and saying they’re gay, then they shouldn’t have tried to express themselves creatively. Well, at least I’ll always have my crank calls. Old Lady From Titanic, you stink…!’

Homer Simpson of THE SIMPSONS in the episode about the celebrities, starring Kim Basinger, Alec Baldwin and Ron Howard.

I always regret that I didn’t go to see this ‘Nineties blockbuster in the cinema when it was first released, as it must have been spectacular to witness on the big screen. At the time, however, I was fantastically and disastrously embroiled in an affair with a married man that was the blight of my youth and I had, therefore, other things on my mind. Such as his lies. Oh, his terrible, terrible lies!

I love you. He loved me not, gentle readers. I’ll love you till I die. I wish I could set Alanis Morrisette on him, just for that one alone. She feels very strongly about that kind of lie in particular.

My wife and I haven’t slept together for years. What was the new baby called again? I’ll leave my wife for you when the kids are in college. They were toddlers. I’ll never leave you. He left me three fucking times before he left me for good.

Each time hurt worse than the last and made me actually contemplate thinking about considering ending it all, if you get me. Luckily I decided not to bother with all that high drama or I’d never have met you guys.

And so on and so forth, anyway. You don’t need to know how low I sunk. Suffice it to say that it ended. Now let us focus no more on the follies of my youth and concentrate on the big-budget cheese-fest that is TITANIC, the biggest film of the ‘Nineties or maybe even any other decade for that matter.

It’s common practice, of course, to slag it off but I love it and I always have. It’s got gorgeous dresses and fabulous hats, a stunning Kate Winslet, an actress whom I’ve liked in everything I’ve ever seen her in, a broodingly handsome Billy Zane and a plot based on historical fact. The sinking of the TITANIC bit, that is, not the Rose and Jack bit.

The only things I dislike about the film are that song by Celine Dion and the choice of Leonardo DiCaprio as Kate Winslet’s love interest. I’ve never liked the rather baby-faced youth and I did not like him in this. The very thought of being in a position where I would actually choose a life of poverty with this… this child over a life of comfort and luxury as the wife of the rich and gorgeous Billy Zane brings me out in hives, I kid you not.

And I’d much rather settle down to watch TITANIC on December the twenty-sixth than actually going out to brave the shops again like some crazy people do, this time to attempt to exchange the rubbish presents foisted on them by distant relatives and friends for slightly better stuff.

It’s true I neither want nor need a dozen gift-sets of the same foot-care cosmetics I didn’t want last year but what the hey. I’ll simply re-gift ’em next year and on Saint Stephen’s Day, otherwise known as Boxing Day, I’ll stay in with TITANIC and a plate piled high with leftover-turkey sambos and mince pies and wallow in the delicious tragedy of it all.

Rose DeWitt Bukater, played by English Rose Kate Winslet, is a young woman betrothed to Billy Zane’s super-rich heir to a steel fortune, Caledon Hockley. They are travelling to America with Rose’s uptight Ma and, when the TITANIC reaches its destination, Rose and Cal are to be married.

Ma DeWitt Bukater will be relieved a thousand times over when this happens. Her husband is dead and the family money, as she tells her daughter in no uncertain terms, is all gone. The film does a great, if grim, job of highlighting how precarious a woman’s position was in those days if she didn’t have a rich man to protect her.

Ma and Rose will be set for life if Rose marries Cal but Rose, desperate to escape the confines of the life that her Mother and Cal have laid down so rigidly for her, has been making goo-goo eyes at Leonardo DiCaprio’s Jack Dawson, an impoverished, rootless artist who won his ticket for the Ship Of Dreams in a lucky hand of poker.

Jack, who meets Rose when he saves her from committing suicide by jumping over the side of the ship, is teaching Rose all manner of unsuitable things. How to spit like a man, how to go to a ‘real party,’ how to pose in the nip for a randy artist and how to have sweaty, cherry-popping sex in the back of parked automobiles. Tsk, tsk.

Cal and Mrs. DeWitt Bukater are fit to be tied, they’re so enraged at all of this. And then, on that fateful night in April 1912, the ‘unsinkable’ TITANIC hits the iceberg in the freezing cold North Atlantic Ocean and sails right into the history books as one of the biggest disasters in maritime history…

The film portrays the sinking magnificently, in my humble opinion. We see first the disbelief of the passengers, who’ve been assured that ‘God himself could not sink this ship.’ We see the band playing ‘music to drown by’ and the first-class passengers dressing in their finest clothes as they prepare, chillingly, ‘to go down like gentlemen.’ They still don’t really believe that they’ll be required to, though.

Then there’s the absolute chaos as the ship starts to go under and the passengers scramble madly for the wholly insufficient number of life-boats. Then there’s the terrifying splitting in half of the gigantic ship and the deaths by drowning and deaths caused by the knife-sharp cold.

There’s the much-parodied scene as Rose lies comfortably on a nice big door in the ocean while Jack, ever the good little steerage passenger, freezes his balls off in the bitterly cold water. ‘There was room on that raft for the two of youse!’ goes a certain Irish commercial for, I think, Maltesers or something. Well said, that man, whoever he was.

The story is book-ended at both ends with the modern-day story of the late Bill Paxton’s really cute treasure-hunter trying to find a fabulous necklace called The Heart Of The Ocean on the wreck of the sunken ship. The now one-hundred-and-one-year-old Rose is ‘helping’ him although, as the viewers see, ‘a woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets’ and she’s pulling the wool over his eyes a little bit, the ancient hussy.

There are so many iconic scenes to remember fondly when the ship sinks. Here are some of mine. The millions of plates falling off their shelves and into the water. The old man and woman huddled tightly together on their bed, determined to die together. The shell-shocked Captain when the water explodes in on him.

The girl floating dead in the water with her dress billowing out around her, filmed from below. Very artistic, is that. It could even be a painting. The ship’s officer shooting himself after he realises he’s killed someone while trying to keep order amidst the chaos.

The rich guy in his dinner jacket sitting there in shock as the water dares to breach the upper echelons of first class. Dreadfully vulgar, the mighty ocean, dontcha know. Must be from the Chippewa Falls ocean, that would explain its appalling lack of good taste…!

Ioan Gruffudd shouting ‘Is there anyone alive out there?’ as he trawls the icy waters for survivors with his little whistle. Rose in the rain on the Carpathia the day after the sinking realising that she has The Heart Of The Ocean in her pocket. After she’s had, like, the entire fucking ocean underneath her when she was on that floating bit of coffin, lol.

I simply adore Rose’s gorgeous red ‘committing suicide’ dress and dinky little shoes. I also love all the scenes that show the lower decks of the ship filling with water first. Those are all top-notch depictions and I honestly don’t see how anyone could have done them better.

I love this film and I watch it every Christmas without fail. I won’t hear a word said against it, not unless you’re bitching about the awful song, lol. Happy New Year now, y’all. Have a good one. And remember to keep a sharp eye out for Celine Dion, as far as I know she’s still alive and could still be singing…!

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY OF SANDRA HARRIS.
Sandra Harris is a Dublin-based novelist, film blogger and movie reviewer. She has studied Creative Writing and Film-Making. She has published a number of e-books on the following topics: horror film reviews, multi-genre film reviews, womens’ fiction, erotic fiction, erotic horror fiction and erotic poetry. Several new books are currently in the pipeline. You can browse or buy any of Sandra’s books by following the link below straight to her Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B015GDE5RO

You can contact Sandra at:

https://www.facebook.com/SandraHarrisPureFilthPoetry

https://sandrafirstruleoffilmclubharris.wordpress.com

http://sexysandieblog.wordpress.com

http://serenaharker.wordpress.com

sandrasandraharris@gmail.com

https://twitter.com/SandraAuthor

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HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO (BOTH) MY READERS!!!

christmasI just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who’s followed my blog in 2017, and a special word of gratitude to the two lads who religiously read and ‘like’ my posts. Tom and Mike, ye know who ye are, I love you guys!

I hope to write even more in 2018 than I did in 2017, if that’s possible, lol. You can expect more movie reviews, a sexy new fix of FANGS AND FOREPLAY… THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF DRACULA and maybe a few little surprises, by which I mean I haven’t quite worked out what else I intend to do yet, haha.

In the meantime, have a wonderfully creative Christmas and a literary New Year. I hope we can all get together again in 2018 for more cinematic high jinks and sexy olde-timey bloodsucking shenanigans…!

All love and best wishes from Sandra Harris, Christmas 2017. xxxchristmas

 

WHITE CHRISTMAS. (1954) REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

white christmas movieWHITE CHRISTMAS. (1954) A PARAMOUNT VISTAVISION MOVIE. MUSIC BY IRVING BERLIN. DIRECTED BY MICHAEL CURTIZ. STARRING BING CROSBY, DANNY KAYE, ROSEMARY CLOONEY, VERA-ELLEN, DEAN JAGGER AND MARY WICKES.

REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

‘I once passed up the chance to buy Picasso’s GUERNICA for a song. Luckily that song was WHITE CHRISTMAS and I made billions…!’

Mr. Burns from THE SIMPSONS.

If you don’t cry when Bing Crosby sings WHITE CHRISTMAS in this beloved holiday favourite, then you’re a cold unfeeling monster. Either that, or you’ve had your tear ducts surgically removed for some reason, if there ever is a valid reason to have that particular procedure done, haha.

WHITE CHRISTMAS was the biggest-selling film of 1954 by miles and miles and miles and it was the first film to ever be released in VistaVision, a special kind of widescreen format developed by Paramount. Bing Crosby’s version of Irving Berlin’s beautiful song, WHITE CHRISTMAS, is still to this day the best-selling song of all time. Whaddya mean, what about AGADOO…? To hell with AGADOO…!

The plot is simple enough. It’s the songs that are magic. Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye play two old army buddies who, after serving their time together in World War Two, become famous song-and-dance entertainers and big-shot producers.

When they hear that their old wartime General, a chap called Thomas F. Waverly, is having difficulties making his post-retirement career of hotel owner work out due to lack of holiday snow and guests, Bing as Captain Bob Wallace and Danny as Private Phil Davis come up with a cunning plan.

Aiming to both fill the hotel with guests and prove to the ageing General that he hasn’t been forgotten about by all the men who cheerfully served under him, they bring their own show to the old guy’s hotel for Christmas. A nationwide appeal on the Ed Harrison television show is all the free advertising they need.

Stunning blonde sisters Betty and Judy, aka the Haynes sisters, form a very important part of the lads’ show with their own song-and-dance act. The two sisters fall, wholly expectedly(!), in love with the lads and vice versa. You can see it coming a mile off, lol. There’d be something badly wrong if they didn’t fall for each other, like Irish Guards and teachers on a boozy night out in Copperface Jack’s. (Local joke, you guys won’t get it…!)

But the path of true love never does run smooth, and it certainly doesn’t in this case. Will Cupid’s arrow strike the right people at the right time and in the right places, or will the love affairs between the lads and the perky-bosomed, wasp-waisted ladettes go the same way as the General’s snow-free holiday lodge? You’ll have to watch the movie to find that out, folks…!

Magic moments, for me, are all musical ones. Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen doing SISTERS with those fabulous blue dresses and huge fans. Bing and Danny doing a send-up of this exact song in their own personalised costumes.

Bing singing WHITE CHRISTMAS, and Rosemary Clooney crooning LOVE, YOU DIDN’T DO RIGHT BY ME in that dress! It’s a little black number, designed by Hollywood legend Edith Head, one of the earliest true fashionistas.

There’s a sassy little silver brooch or clip on the tushy that draws attention to Ms. Clooney’s fabulous hourglass figure, as if it needed it(!), and the sultry smokiness in her voice is sexier than anything Marilyn Monroe could have come up with. The whole number is sheer sizzling dynamite. Or, as Craig Revel-Horwood from STRICTLY COME DANCING would put it… ‘One word, darling. A-MAZ-ING…!’

Danny Kaye and Vera-Ellen doing THE BEST THINGS HAPPEN WHEN YOU’RE DANCING is fantastic fun too. Vera-Ellen was a tremendously good dancer. Other memorable songs include COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS INSTEAD OF SHEEP, SNOW, GEE I WISH I WAS BACK IN THE ARMY and the rousing (WE’LL FOLLOW) THE OLD MAN (WHEREVER HE WANTS TO GO), a genuinely touching tribute to how much the army lads love their Old Man Waverly.

Of course, no-one ever spares a thought for the poor wives, children, parents, friends and other assorted relatives who are abandoned willy-nilly on Christmas Eve by the soldiers of the 151st Division, who are all hot-footing it to Vermont to help out their old gaffer on Bing Crosby’s say-so. To those sad, lonely people, I have only this to say. Suck it up, saddos! Do it for Bing and the Old Man…

white christmas moviewhite christmas movie

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY OF SANDRA HARRIS.
Sandra Harris is a Dublin-based novelist, film blogger and movie reviewer. She has studied Creative Writing and Film-Making. She has published a number of e-books on the following topics: horror film reviews, multi-genre film reviews, womens’ fiction, erotic fiction, erotic horror fiction and erotic poetry. Several new books are currently in the pipeline. You can browse or buy any of Sandra’s books by following the link below straight to her Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B015GDE5RO

You can contact Sandra at:

https://www.facebook.com/SandraHarrisPureFilthPoetry

https://sandrafirstruleoffilmclubharris.wordpress.com

http://sexysandieblog.wordpress.com

http://serenaharker.wordpress.com

sandrasandraharris@gmail.com

https://twitter.com/SandraAuthor

 

 

JINGLE ALL THE WAY. (1996) REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

jingle all the wayJINGLE ALL THE WAY. (1996) DIRECTED BY BRIAN LEVANT. STARRING ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER, JAKE LLOYD, RITA WILSON, PHIL HARTMAN, ROBERT CONRAD, SINBAD AND JAMES BELUSHI. REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

Ho-ho-ho and Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and all that festive jazz…! JINGLE ALL THE WAY is one of those seasonal staples that’s as much a part of Christmas as getting pissed on bubbly while you’re waiting for the turkey to cook, and shagging the one person at your work’s annual Christmas do who’s guaranteed to put the snap you drunkenly allowed them to take of your ass up on social media. That’s not just me, surely…? Lol.

Anyway, I’d classify JINGLE ALL THE WAY as a Christmas comedy on a par with THE GRINCH WHO STOLE CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS WITH THE KRANKS, NATIONAL LAMPOON’S CHRISTMAS VACATION, HOME ALONE and all those other favourite Crimbo films we all love to unearth at this time of year. Parents will identify with it (painfully so, I’d say!) and kids will laugh their heads off at it.

It stars the Austrian Oak, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and he’s in a much more perilous situation than any fix he’s ever had to face in his TERMINATOR or other action-packed movies. He’s a Dad at Christmas who has failed, repeat failed, to pick up the toy his son wants for Christmas in advance of the big day. Boo…! For shame, Howard Langston, for shame. That’s his name, lol.

He is a bad father. He should be tied to a chair and pelted with tofu balls while Cliff Richard’s MISTLETOE AND WINE plays on repeat on the sound-system. Too harsh, you say? No, I’m sorry but the penalty stands. It has to stand, if the world order isn’t to collapse under a weight of wrapping paper and festive ribbons and bows.

There’s no crime worse than failing to buy Little Timmy or Tammy Snotnose exactly what they want for Christmas. Money equates love, see? The bigger the gift, the more you love your kid. Simple. And buy two of everything. The little brats won’t wanna share. And for Chrissakes, remember the bloody batteries…!

Howard is horrified to discover on Christmas Eve that he has neglected to purchase the toy which his son Jamie has asked Santa for this Crimbo. The must-have toy-du-jour is Turbo Man. I love the way the people in the toy-stores all laugh maniacally at him when he asks for a Turbo Man. Any self-respecting parent worthy of the name knows that that particular toy has been sold out for months. Hah!

The scenes of chaos in the toy-stores in the film on this Christmas Eve are terrifying, but not at all unusual. A family member had the misfortune to work in a Dublin toy-store last Christmas and she still hasn’t forgotten the misery. The stampeding, the screaming and bawling, the abuse, the recriminations, and that was just the staff. Never mind the pushy parents or the marauding kids.

She sits in her chair at home every day now, not talking, just continually rocking back and forth, and when she closes her eyes she can still see the shells falling, smell the awful smell of burning flesh and put her hands into the pile of goo that used to be her best friend’s face… No, wait a minute. That was ‘Nam, wasn’t it? From what I hear, though, there’s not much difference between the two…

Anyway, Howard finds himself in some extraordinary situations as he races around town looking for a Turbo Man doll in time for the Christmas Parade later in the day. Followed everywhere he goes by a manic mailman looking for the same toy and a pissed-off copper who likes to give out parking tickets, he encounters a group of crooked Santas (crooked in the sense of corrupt, not askew!), chases a small girl through a crowded shopping mall, breaks into his neighbour’s house with theft in mind and pretty much terrorises the host of a radio show.

This is all in the name of finding the doll and proving to little Jamie and his wife Liz that he’s neither the screw-up they seem to think he is nor a neglectful, emotionally- and physically- absent parent.

What the kid and the wife don’t seem to realise is that the reason that Dad is away so much is because he’s working his butt off to keep the ungrateful pair in the style they’ve obviously long been accustomed to. And what a style! Their house is fabulous.

As this is an American film, they’ve really gone to town on making the film look as magically Christmassy as possible. I’ve always maintained that the Americans know how to keep Christmas well, as old Scrooge might say.

The houses and snow-covered gardens and streets are all decked out in full festive regalia, the shops look gorgeous and there are real carollers singing in the open air in proper Victorian garb. Charles Dickens, the writer credited with inventing the true traditional Victorian Christmas by putting it all down in his books for posterity, would be proud to see how wonderfully festive it all is.

Arnie is funny and handsome throughout, especially when he’s all togged out as Turbo Man for the parade. I love the way his wife says ‘Howard…!’ in surprise when she realises that she’s actually sexually attracted to her husband in the super-hero suit. Well, it’s a very snug-fitting suit, ahem. I wouldn’t be in any rush to take it back to the costume shop myself…

Phil Hartman, the voice of both Lionel Hutz and Troy McClure from THE SIMPSONS, does a real star turn here as the obnoxious Ted, Howard’s annoying, know-it-all next-door-neighbour who always has to go one better, much to Howard’s irritation.

It’s a lot like THE SIMPSONS, with Ted as Ned the pious and virtuous neighbour who gets his son’s TURBO MAN weeks in advance of Christmas and Howard as Homer who forgets it completely until- you guessed it- the last minute.

Homer, however, would have forgotten it because he was more interested in boozing at Moe’s Bar than in preparing for Christmas, something he’d perceive to be Marge’s territory. Howard only forgets because he’s genuinely snowed-under at work. Snowed-under, geddit? It’s funny ’cause it’s Christmas.

Anyway, the housewives all adore the newly-divorced Ted, and Ted has his sights set on Howard’s missus Liz, probably because he’s actually jealous as hell of the muscular Howard. I love Ted’s line to Howard which reveals all Ted’s own insecurities and petty envy: ‘You can’t bench-press your way out of this one…!’ See what I mean? Jealous, jealous, jealous.

The film is good clean fun, if a tad far-fetched and, at the end, the commercial message it’s been sending to viewers all throughout the film (to buy, buy, buy and then buy some more) gets turned completely on its head, which is nice.

Keep watching those end credits as well, because there’s a cute little twist right at the very end which impatient viewers, anxious to switch off and get the little horrors to bed, might miss. Aw, kids. Kids are great, aren’t they? You can’t live with them, you can’t donate them to charity. Well, that’s what the woman in Oxfam told me, anyway, and she’d know…

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY OF SANDRA HARRIS.
Sandra Harris is a Dublin-based novelist, film blogger and movie reviewer. She has studied Creative Writing and Film-Making. She has published a number of e-books on the following topics: horror film reviews, multi-genre film reviews, womens’ fiction, erotic fiction, erotic horror fiction and erotic poetry. Several new books are currently in the pipeline. You can browse or buy any of Sandra’s books by following the link below straight to her Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B015GDE5RO

You can contact Sandra at:

https://www.facebook.com/SandraHarrisPureFilthPoetry

https://sandrafirstruleoffilmclubharris.wordpress.com

http://sexysandieblog.wordpress.com

http://serenaharker.wordpress.com

sandrasandraharris@gmail.com

jingle all the way

CARRY ON SCREAMING! (1966) REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS.

fenella fieldingCARRY ON SCREAMING. (1966) DIRECTED BY GERALD THOMAS. PRODUCED BY PETER ROGERS. WRITTEN BY TALBOT ROTHWELL. MUSIC BY ERIC ROGERS. STARRING KENNETH WILLIAMS, CHARLES HAWTREY, JIM DALE, HARRY H. CORBETT, PETER BUTTERWORTH, BERNARD BRESSLAW, JON PERTWEE, TOM CLEGG, ANGELA DOUGLAS, JOAN SIMS AND FENELLA FIELDING. REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

‘Foul feet

smell

something horrible…’

Where do I even begin to talk about one of the greatest horror comedies of all time? I’ve always been a huge fan of the CARRY ON franchise (31 classic British comedies made between 1958 and 1992) anyway, but this Hammer Horror spoof featuring some of the franchise’s finest actors and actresses really takes the cake.

It’s funny, glamorously gothic, mysterious and downright wacky all at the same time, with sparklingly witty writing, terrible puns and hilarious sight gags all chucked in for good measure. The blend of comedy and horror works so well, and I love the way that they’re both parodying the Hammer Horror movies of the day and also lovingly homage-ing them as well.

Let’s see now, where do we start? Well, at the beginning, I suppose, in Hocombe Woods in the time of horse-drawn carriages and gaslight, where something mysterious walks at night and carries off local damsels who are never seen again.

If it was a real Hammer Horror film, it might of course be Christopher Lee as Count Dracula who’d be doing the carrying-off. Well, in actual fact, it’d be good old Eddie Powell as Christopher Lee’s double who’d be doing it, as Chrissy had a trick back and couldn’t be humping women around like sacks of coal all the livelong day…!

But this isn’t Hammer Horror and, for once, it isn’t the horny, bloodthirsty Count who’s stalking the forest for comely female victims with bounteous bosoms and sturdy, pinchable hindquarters. But someone or something is kidnapping local women from Hocombe Woods and ‘disappearing’ them without a trace. The woods, a hotspot for courting couples, are becoming an increasingly dangerous place to be.

It falls to the lot of Detective Sergeant Sidney Bung, married to a battleaxe of a wife played by Joan Sims, and his bungling sidekick Detective Constable Slobotham to get to the bottom of the mystery, starting with the disappearance of a certain Miss Doris Mann from Hocombe Woods.

Doris’s boyfriend, Albert Potter, a randy tradesman, is outraged at her abduction, not least because he hadn’t managed to penetrate her well-protected virginity before she ‘opped it, so to speak. And after all the trouble he went to to deflower her, as well, only to be thwarted at the last hurdle…!

Jim Dale is marvellous as Albert Potter, the gormless lug who’s slap-bang on top of Bung and Slobotham’s list of suspects, until they find definitive proof that they’ve ‘fingered’ the wrong man and that the case might, in fact, have a supernatural element to it that they hadn’t bargained on…

Charles Hawtrey, a wonderful comic actor who only has to say ‘hello…!’ in that funny voice of his and you’re cracking up already, is superb as Dan Dann, the lavatory man, who runs a mens’ convenience and has some rather vital information to impart to Bung and Slobotham, but will he live long enough to pass on what he knows? That, folks, is the sixty-four-million dollar question.

The key to the mystery might just lie at Bide-A-Wee, a spooky gothic mansion in the heart of the forest that houses a right motley crew of Halloweeny-style weirdos. Bernard Bresslaw appears first as the butler Sockett, who informs the coppers and Albert Potter that the master of the house has been dead for some time but he’ll see if he can rouse him nonetheless… Talk about the bleedin’ Addams Family.

Kenneth Williams, a man who surely was born to make a snidey-comic remark with an accompanying snidey-comic facial expression, is brilliant as the not-quite-all-there Dr. Orlando Watt. He’s hard to keep track of because he just seems to keep coming and going, but you’ll get quite a charge out of him when you get to know him, har-de-har-har.

I’ve saved the best for last. Fenella Fielding as Valeria, Dr. Watt’s sex-pot sister, gives all the Elviras and all the Vampiras a run for their money. Oh yes she does, with her long lustrous black hair, her chalk-white skin, red lips and smoky voice, her hourglass figure in that delicious red dress with her fabulous boobies on a plate for all and sundry to drool over, and drool they undoubtedly do. I could quite go for her myself if I weren’t such a committed man-eater, haha.

Valeria, a sexually-assured woman with a wealth of wiles and experience at her painted fingertips, easily runs rings around the besotted Bung and Albert Potter. As if having the undying devotion and everlasting lust of Sockett and the hideous Oddbod weren’t enough for her, the saucy strumpet.

Bung will have his work cut out for him, trying to figure out why the basement of Bide-A-Wee is filled with strangely lifelike waxwork dummies and why, even more curiously, a mannequin that Albert Potter swears is the living image of his beloved Doris Mann has turned up in the window of a local department store.

Will Bung and Slobotham, the latter of whom cuts a rather charmingly matronly figure in a wig and corset, ever get to the bottom of the unorthodox happenings at Bide-A-Wee? Will Joan Sims ever stop nagging her browbeaten husband? Will Dan Dann be able to meet you sometime at his convenience and, most importantly of all, will the luscious Valeria ever stop smoking? It’s unlikely, dear readers, to say the least…

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY OF SANDRA HARRIS.
Sandra Harris is a Dublin-based novelist, film blogger and movie reviewer. She has studied Creative Writing and Film-Making. She has published a number of e-books on the following topics: horror film reviews, multi-genre film reviews, womens’ fiction, erotic fiction, erotic horror fiction and erotic poetry. Several new books are currently in the pipeline. You can browse or buy any of Sandra’s books by following the link below straight to her Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B015GDE5RO

You can contact Sandra at:

https://www.facebook.com/SandraHarrisPureFilthPoetry

https://sandrafirstruleoffilmclubharris.wordpress.com

http://sexysandieblog.wordpress.com

http://serenaharker.wordpress.com

sandrasandraharris@gmail.com

https://twitter.com/SandraAuthor

PARANORMAL ASYLUM aka THE REVENGE OF TYPHOID MARY. (2013) REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

paranormal asylumPARANORMAL ASYLUM or THE REVENGE OF TYPHOID MARY. (2013) DIRECTED BY NIMROD ZALMANOWITZ. WRITTEN BY FRED EDISON. STARRING AARON MATHIAS, NATHAN SPITERI, LAURA GILREATH AND GRACE EVANS.

REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

This is by no means a perfect horror film. The script is needlessly confusing and has a half-finished feel to it, the acting is hammy and the dialogue clunky, and some of the scenes are downright unbelievable (half-naked Apron Meat Lady, I’m talking to you…!).

I still enjoyed it though. There was some gorgeous scenery on show, namely the abandoned castle on the island, and I especially enjoyed reading up on the background of the film’s sort of anti-heroine, Typhoid Mary.

Typhoid Mary, as the name suggests, was a real-life woman who was infamous for having infected up to fifty people with typhoid during her career as a cook during the latter years of the nineteenth century. She was born in Ireland (thanks a lot, Typhoid Mary, making us look bad in front of the bigger countries!) and emigrated to America when she was fifteen.

Poor old Mary Mallon, to give her her birth name, was an asymptomatic carrier of typhoid, the first on official record. While maintaining perfect health herself, she unknowingly (well, I’m assuming she couldn’t have known, how could she?) infected pretty much every family she worked for as a cook. They would have died horribly too, with fever and diarrhoea. Typhoid is not a pretty disease.

When the authorities eventually figured out that Mary was the common denominator in all these infection cases, they tried isolating her and making her promise never to work as a cook again, where her poor hygiene practices (lack of hand-washing, etc.) would have contributed greatly to the spread of the disease.

Mary was finally incarcerated for life on North Brother Island, after it was discovered that she’d gone back on her word and had started working as a cook again. Keeping her quarantined was the only way the authorities could think of to keep the public safe from her.

She died on the island in 1938 after years of quarantine. Live typhoid bacteria were found in her gallbladder after her death. It was a tragic waste of Mary’s life and the lives she (knowingly or unknowingly) destroyed with the disease she carried.

Typhoid Mary passed into legend after her death and her name crops up a lot today in popular culture. For example, she’s a character in a MARVEL comic now. Good for you, Typhoid Mary, good for you.

Anyway, in the film PARANORMAL ASYLUM, two college friends called Mark and Andy want to make a documentary film about Typhoid Mary’s incarceration and death. This seems to involve running here and there frantically to different places and setting up a live computer feed from a darkened corridor somewhere.

Andy’s girlfriend Michelle is supposed to be ‘helping’ them, but during a séance she accidentally gets herself ‘possessed’ by the spirit of Typhoid Mary. Whoopsies…! Now she is doomed to wearing a slightly darker wig for all eternity and cooking meat after a lifetime of being a committed vegetarian. Oh dear. How, um, awful.

Mark, who’s quite cute with his longish hair, his douchebag stubble and his silver rings, forms a dangerous habit of not reporting to the authorities the deaths of the people who croak in his presence. The woman Evelyn, though I’m not quite sure why she’s there, looks genuinely terrifying in her spooky make-up. She’d make a good madwoman in a film about, well, a mad woman. Other than that, the film is a bit pants.

It introduced me to the real-life story of Mary Mallon, though, the woman who’s described rather cruelly, I feel, as being ‘tall, heavy and single.’ Remember when Lenny Leonard from THE SIMPSONS was attracted to the online profile of a woman called Mary who was allegedly ‘single, heavy and ready to settle for less…?’ ‘This Mary’s got the whole package!’ Lenny crows delightedly. She surely does, Lenny. She surely does…

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY OF SANDRA HARRIS.
Sandra Harris is a Dublin-based novelist, film blogger and movie reviewer. She has studied Creative Writing and Film-Making. She has published a number of e-books on the following topics: horror film reviews, multi-genre film reviews, womens’ fiction, erotic fiction, erotic horror fiction and erotic poetry. Several new books are currently in the pipeline. You can browse or buy any of Sandra’s books by following the link below straight to her Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B015GDE5RO

You can contact Sandra at:

https://www.facebook.com/SandraHarrisPureFilthPoetry

https://sandrafirstruleoffilmclubharris.wordpress.com

http://sexysandieblog.wordpress.com

http://serenaharker.wordpress.com

sandrasandraharris@gmail.com

https://twitter.com/SandraAuthor

JOHN CARPENTER’S ‘THE THING.’ (1982) REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

the thingJOHN CARPENTER’S ‘THE THING.’ (1982) DIRECTED BY JOHN CARPENTER. BASED ON THE NOVELLA ‘WHO GOES THERE?’ BY JOHN W. CAMPBELL JR. MUSIC BY JOHN CARPENTER AND ENNIO MORRICONE. SPECIAL EFFECTS BY ROB BOTTIN. STARRING KURT RUSSELL, KEITH DAVID, PETER MALONEY AND A. WILFORD BRIMLEY.

REVIEW BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

It’s shocking nowadays to read over the bad reviews this film initially garnered on its release, and then to compare them with the rave reviews it’s received retrospectively and continues to receive to this day.

Either those early critics really, really got it wrong or it was simply a case, as some people think, of THE THING’s having simply found it too hard to compete with two other films that were released at the same time.

Namely, Steven Spielberg’s E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL, which of course presents an altogether different, more positive view of alien visitors from Outer Space, and Ridley Scott’s BLADE RUNNER. 1982 was clearly a good year for science fiction movies…!

Suffice it to say here that this film is widely regarded nowadays as one of the best horror movies ever made and John Carpenter, its creator, one of the best horror movie directors. Did I mention that I saw him perform his movie soundtracks live in Dublin’s Vicar Street last Halloween Week? I didn’t? Well, gather round, friends, and I shall tell you a wondrous tale…!

Haha, I’m only joking. I told that story enough last year. Today we’ll just talk about THE THING. So, um, well, here’s the thing, geddit? See what I did there?

 It’s the story of a highly malevolent, parasitic alien life form that somehow finds its way onto an American scientific research station in Antarctica, after thousands of years of being buried nice and cosy-like in the ice.

That’s a hell of a story, isn’t it? Something similar happens in the marvellous horror movie, HORROR EXPRESS, starring Hammer royalty Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, and also TV detective Kojak, aka actor Telly Savalas. Who loves ya, baby?

Anyway, once the lads at the research station encounter THE THING for the first time (in their dog pound as it’s initially taken the form of a cute cuddly bow-bow), they still don’t even grasp the enormity of the situation they’re in. This is only the beginning of the horror for the men, whose lives on the station are probably isolated enough and tough enough as it is.

THE THING has the power to take on any life-form it chooses, but only if there’s already an existing life-form for it to take the shape and form of, if you get me. It sneakily decides to take on the appearance of various scientists at the station, and the only way for the other brainiacs to tell the difference is by doing a blood test, which isn’t always convenient:

‘Um, excuse me, Mr. Thing, would you mind awfully just taking a seat here and giving me your arm? It’s only a little prick, you’ll hardly feel it, and you can TOTALLY go back to killing us all afterwards, I promise! We even have lollipops here for anyone who gives blood. Hey, how about those Mets, huh…?’

Kurt Russell, deeply attractive in a full beard and with his thermal long johns on under his outer clothing, is the main character, R.J. MacReady, and the scientist who’s the most proactive in trying to track down and destroy THE THING. He’s (Mac) ready for anything, geddit? His answer to everything is fire. It’s hilarious.

Every time he spots anything that remotely resembles THE THING, he turns a flame-thrower on it and no exceptions. If he’s not careful, he’ll forget himself and end up scratching his arse with that flame-thrower or trying to turn on the TV with it. It reminds me of an episode of THE SIMPSONS where they’re trying to figure out something, I forget what, and Marge ends up saying ‘No fires!’ to all of Homer’s pyromaniacal suggestions.

The feeling of suspicion and paranoia that builds up in the station as the men all view each other now as potential enemies is so strong, it’s almost palpable. Everyone’s all, like, let’s just sit here, real nice and quiet-like, where we can all keep an eye on each other, real friendly-like.

No-one trusts anyone else and, when mens’ tempers are frayed in such an isolated and claustrophobic situation, things can be triggered almost accidentally, bad things.

Again, it’s like that episode of THE SIMPSONS in which Bart Simpson, Milhouse Van Houten and Martin Prince each have shares in a rare comic-book, the first RADIOACTIVE MAN comic or something, but they quickly grow to distrust each other, each thinking that the other is planning to commandeer the comic for itself. There are very few situations in life that can’t in some way be compared to an episode of THE SIMPSONS…!

The special effects in THE THING are amazingly good, stomach-turning and extremely gory. They’re so good it’s actually incredible to think that they were created a whopping thirty-five years ago and yet they’ve never been bettered since.

Please don’t argue with me about this. I am a woman. I am programmed to win every argument, without exception, and I fight dirty, too, and I’ll resort to tears if I have to, haha.

Although there are some excellent horror film franchises on the go today (INSIDIOUS, THE CONJURING, SINISTER, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY, to name but a few), no-one’s ever really managed to scale the dizzying heights that John Carpenter and Rob Bottin achieved together all those years ago. Maybe no-one ever will.

I read online that the film is screened every Winter, along with THE SHINING, for the lads at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station. That’s funny and kinda sweet but it’s also a bit like showing ALIVE as the in-flight movie on an aeroplane or a virus outbreak film in the hospital waiting-room to people experiencing, well, um, a viral outbreak. Funny but inadvisable, haha. Maybe even a little tactless…! 

I’m off now to make a nice cup of tea to settle my stomach after all those gory special effects. I only wish there were some way to do it where I didn’t have to get up from my chair, wash a cup, get the teabags, boil the kettle… Wait a minute. Where’s me flamethrower…?

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY OF SANDRA HARRIS.
Sandra Harris is a Dublin-based novelist, film blogger and movie reviewer. She has studied Creative Writing and Film-Making. She has published a number of e-books on the following topics: horror film reviews, multi-genre film reviews, womens’ fiction, erotic fiction, erotic horror fiction and erotic poetry. Several new books are currently in the pipeline. You can browse or buy any of Sandra’s books by following the link below straight to her Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B015GDE5RO

You can contact Sandra at:

https://www.facebook.com/SandraHarrisPureFilthPoetry

https://sandrafirstruleoffilmclubharris.wordpress.com

http://sexysandieblog.wordpress.com

http://serenaharker.wordpress.com

sandrasandraharris@gmail.com

https://twitter.com/SandraAuthor