On Running.



We’ve all done it, when watching horror films we shout, scream and pull out our hairs, figuratively at least. When we put ourselves in the same situations we see the victims in, we scoff and claim we could do better. But could we? Despite the negative connotation associated with the style of running in some horror films, it has naturally progressed in such a way that makes it necessary. Imagine, it’s nearing the end of a movie, theres only two helpless teens navigating pitch dark woods and our favourite killer is about to get a small glint of pleasure from his favourite form of murder, a stabbathon. He’s creeping up behind Cindy, but unbeknownst to him, Cindy has that great ass because she’s a track (not to be confused with trap) star. Cindy can walk 500 miles and then walk 5000 more. Next thing we know we see Cindy gleefully running off into the sunlight while Jason’s murder chubby deflates. It seems unlikely because realistically no one wants to see that. Horror running has evolved into the staggering, limping, zig-zag it is because of a myriad of reasons but more importantly; story progression, circumstances and sometimes boobs.



Idila (2015) – Believe it or not the husky gentleman behind her can HUSTLE!

Calculated scenarios are not something most horror fans would necessarily like to think about during the movie. We essentially want to be entertained in a fantasy world. This is why horror is such a beautiful thing. Do I want to see heads explode in real life? Not really my thing. But when artfully recreated it on screen the audience is fixated because in a real life setting its taboo for obvious reasons, murder (duh). This plays on the theory that we don’t want to see ‘just anyone’ essentially escape. It’s a strange catch 22, ultimately we’re rooting for the ‘good guy’ or the victim. We also don’t want any form of sudden success. This is where the suffering comes into play. As an audience we want the victim to deserve to live. The initial movie deaths are quick and nonchalant because they were either a minor character or they were stupid enough to die. When we get to a ‘final girl’ type of character by this point in time they’ve been through the ringer. They have run around the house, a killer has always been on their tail. Despite the amount of corners and milage they have seem to gained, it can all be spoiled by a long shot of the killer in the foresight.


A more logical twist on why running away has progressed in such a way is harm. It always seems to involve the foot as well.


House of Wax (2005) Those acting chops tho… 

In House of Wax, Paris Hiltons achilles heel is penetrated, and Jared’s tendon is sliced. There is always going to be that girl who jumps out of her two story house the wrong way and sprain or snap her ankle. It’s the oldest trick in the book. This is important because even if in cases like Cindy’s her previous skills would become a moot point and bring the playing field back down. It also seems that these victims are always running away in the most unfortunate circumstances. Are they running away in a well lit suburban area? Not unless its from zombies, but that’s another instance altogether. They are usually situated in the most rural of areas in pitch dark with no general understanding of their surroundings. This as people we could understand. It takes a very brave person to run full tilt into a forrest, despite imminent doom. They need to walk that gingerly line for their own safety despite it not being the quickest escape from Johnny Hatchet.



Scary Movie (2000) Sisters are doin’ it for themselves

Despite several different styles of escaping when it comes to running, the style has inevitably become a cliche. Carmen Electra famously gets soaked while running away and her fake boobs get stabbed out. It’s a hilarious scene and it’s also defiantly not wrong. How many times have we seen wet tank tops running for dear life, sometimes slowly. The wife beaters, they’re everywhere! Jessica Biel in Texas Chainsaw Massacre for instance. I mean clearly I’m not mad at it, I don’t think any one is, and realistically if you’re being stalked by a rampant killer do you really care your bra strap is showing? Hell most people don’t care in painfully normal situations. With horror movies comes sexiness, its the ying to the gruesome yang. it balances out the gore with the tit. Sometimes with running away the pacing can be off and it provides some time frame for the remainder of the movie. The escaping can’t last too long but it can’t be too short in order for it to seem like a simple task. This is where the line is drawn, so why not add a nip here and there to literally peak the interest of the audience.


Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003) Tank top WON’T STOP.

When thinking about running and horror it can almost be compared to the slow Baywatch beach runs, but with more slicing and dicing. Next time you find yourself walking home, alone at night look at your surroundings. Could you get away as easy as you think? What are your obstacles? Lets hope you’re not on top of a grate, and make sure there are no looming figures in the dark alley beside you because realistically you don’t know shit until it happens to you.

Until next time my little horrs.


*Havent written an essay since University, so be thankful it’s not about Leon Trotsky*



Guillermo Del Toro To Direct Epic Cthulhu Mythos Trilogy JK JK Don’t Break The Internet.

Sup Sauce Monsters

I, like many others when reading fiction, do so both anticipating and expecting a cinematic adaptation. The many works of H.P. Lovecraft are no exception. I tend to read a few of his stories every couple months and while consuming each cosmic tale of horror and the macabre, I produce, cast and storyboard the inevitable upcoming feature film. I also get angry when:

A. The film is not yet in production / there is no hope of seeing it anytime soon

B. They did not listen to very specific casting and art direction notes…which I projected telepathically from my brain

That aside, as a Lovecraft fan, a cinephile and a horror fanatic I yearn (YEARN) for more movies that deal with the Lovecraftian mythos. I’d do just about anything for straight up adaptations of his work that fit my idea of what Lovecraft is.

I enjoyed everything Stuart Gordon did with the Re-Animator series, as well as From Beyond and Dagon. These could be considered straight up adaptations by some. That being said, Gordon’s take on Lovecraft seems to have a particularly sexy and consistently rapey bent. Like, Castle Freak’s freak was a literal cannibal rape monster whereas in The Outsider, the Lovecraft story it’s based on, the title freak narrates in fanciful prose about his yearnings (YEARNINGS) for the outside world… not his yearnings for the delicious flesh of an Italian prostitute’s titties. While I find his films to be unique and compelling horror films, I don’t find that they have a particularly Lovecraftian vibe.

I know what you are all going to say, “But Screams, what about films like Jugface, thats totes Lovecratian.” A hungry hillbilly-Southern-pit-monster does not an H.P. Lovecraft film make. Nor do other films such as The Thing, The Mist, Alien, or any of The Evil Dead series. Not in my very particular books. I literally need to see at least one tentacle monster.


You will then counter with, “But Screams, we got Whisperer In The Darkness in 2011 and it was awesome.” I agree, but it was hella indie and thus the world at large wasn’t subject to its greatness. “What about the silent film The Call of Cthulhu from 2005?” What about a silent fart?

To me, there is a certain grandiose feel to much of Lovecraft’s work; the Cthulhu Mythos in particular. Much of what gets made as direct adaptations are done on shoe-string budgets allowing no room for the much needed grandiosity. I feel like Hollywood owes us a big-motherfucking-budget three-part Lovecraft extravaganza. All I’m asking for is something big enough and with enough money thrown at it to do the source material justice.

There are many reasons why Lovecraft is often deemed non-adaptable for the silver screen (money money money.)  The most prevailing being that the gigantic baddies in Lovecraft’s work are just to hard to recreate on film… Was I the only person who saw Pacific Rim?

As many of you may know, Del Toro has been attached to a movie adaptation of At The Mountains Of Madness for years (he co-wrote a script with Matthew Robins in 2006.) Other big names attached to this project have included James Cameron, Tom Cruise, and James McAvoy. Before Crimson Peak and even Pacific Rim, it was even rumoured ATMOM would be Del Toro’s next feature. Hell, him and Jim even set a tentative release date of 2013! (The project bounced around a lot between studios, a major conflict of interest being Del Toro’s insistence on an R rating whereas the studios wanted a PG 13.)

What I’m thinking is that after the R-rated success of Deadpool, doors may start opening for bigger and better Adults Only flicks…

What I’m saying is I may as well pitch my three part big budget Lovecraftian epic now, just in case anyone is listening:

We follow a typically Lovecraftian protagonist (i.e., bumbling yet endearing nerd) through three films as he delves deeper and deeper into dimension-bending monstrosities that beleaguer early 20th-century America. The costume opportunities alone…

In the first film we meet a scholarly hero (Astronomer? Ancient rune specialist? Library occult archivist? Definitely works at the Miskatonik University in Arkham) who happens upon a mysterious text (Necronomicon? Star Chart? Newspaper clipping?) that leads him to the creepy-ass foothills of Vermont. Here, he ends up going to toe-to-toe with the space traversing, insectoid fungi creatures also known as Mi-go (The Whisperer In The Darkness.) His eyes are sufficiently opened.

In the second film our main man follows his ever creeping whims to the backwoods village of Dunwich. There is some serious invisible skyscraper-sized horror afoot not to mention lots of cultish chanting and Stonehenge references. We also meet the Whateley’s, who sport great prosthetic make-up making them look sufficiently goatish and hillbillied. We get a juicy climax where the giant invisible monster is finally revealed via the “magic powder.” Our bookish hero is now knee-deep in the giant-tentacle monster shit, which leads us to…

The third film finds our curious crusader uncovering the Cthulhu cult, and travelling on a dangerous sea voyage to meet the monster himself. Our hero, and what’s left of his crew, cruise up to the cyclopian built city of R’lyeh where they find Cthulhu chillin’ like a literal villain. Cthulu pursues etc etc.

As you may have gathered, Guillermo Del Toro will direct, unleashing a fury of both practical and digital tentacled horrors, and I think Collin Farrell needs to fit into this somehow.


Girl Gimme Dat

There will also be a supporting cast of characters that includes but is not limited to an unattainable love interest, a gun-toting best friend (I’m thinking southern) and an old-timey expert with a couple of screws loose. 


Enter Jeff Bridges

You’re right, this post is teetering dangerously on the edge of fan fiction. This whole rant really has been a self-serving exercise in masturbatory fantasy film making. But maybe, just maybe, by directing these thoughts to the internet reading populace at large, someone will alert Guillermo. There is mucho potential in big and expensive R-rated movies in the coming years. I mean, people have been yammering about Hellboy 3 (yes please) for years, especially since the success of Deadpool. I can’t be the only one who has thought of this. Though as of today, a little bird (iO9) is saying that Guillermo is already working a new (small) movie.

Does anyone know if Peter Jackson is busy?

Peace out,


Further Reading:


How Many Adult Diaper Jokes Can I Make? It Depends…


Old people amirite?! Whether you love them or hate them you’ll most likely become one if you haven’t already. I myself am pumped as all hell to become old. I’ll be that granny dropping inappropriate non PC words at the most inopportune time. You also bet your ass I’m gonna clip the ankles of every youngin’getting in the way of my digestives with my motorized luxury scooter . G-Ma needs those digestives so it’s easier to poop while sitting. Oldies already are the supreme leaders of the DGAF tribe, always will be. Though, there’s really nothing more terrifying than elder who gives even less fucks. Maybe thats what makes them a perfect addition to most horror movies. They’ve seen things, they’ve probably done things us young bastard couldn’t even fathom. This diatribe brings me todays post. Scary fucking old people in movies. If you think back, I’m sure you can remember a handful of them without stressing your tiny brain for reference. To be honest their appearance needs no adjustments. Complete with sunken eyes, wrinkles deeper than Maya Angelou poetry and the smell of 50 Mentos that have been hanging out in your pocket for the last decade. Their appearence alone scares the bejesus of youts’ and toddlers alike, not to mention the  foreboding  fear of whats to become of us one day. Makes me wanna shit my pants already.

The Taking of Deborah Logan

debsWhen I saw the trailer for this movie I was so pumped. Mostly because I’m a sucker for a good trailer and Jill Larson playing Ms. Logan looked fucking terrifying. Once I  peeped my eyes on this film I must say I was successfully creeped out so hard. The (super brief) premise of this movie is two documentarians are looking to do a film on Alzheimer’s. Deborah’s daughter  Sarah needs the money the film is providing, so she  reluctantly let the crew into their house to monitor good ol’ Debs. Over the course of a few weeks they notice Deb isn’t acting like a ‘normal’ Alzheimer’s patient. This is no oops I left the kettle on or, oops I put the boots on the wrong foot. This is full blown demonic noises, midnight digging and speaking French into an old switch board for no good fucking reason. Thats not even mentioning the amount of elderly bodily scarification and a scale-esque skin quality.

I’m personally all about paranormal experiences and doors that close by themselves, especially those with demonic undertones, you know, the usual stuff. I’m not going to bother spoiling the ending because its awesome, and for once I would like you to have nice things. Watching it a second time, I could see the signs of what good ol’ Deb was up too, thought the first time around the climax was shocking. This movie made me want to avoid all phone calls with the grandparents, and no, I will NOT have more peppermint knobs out of the bowl. They stick my teeth.

The Visit

visitI see old people! Now  that thats out of my system, I have to hand it to M.Night. Shamalamadingdong. Does he ever know how to capitalize on the elder creep factor. The premise of this movie is fairly simple. Two young kids are sent to visit (heh) their estranged grandparents while their mother goes on an eat pray love meets Miami adult vacation. The daughter is a young budding documentarian (of course) and with that we are able to capture every moment of creep elder bliss. Within a hot minute of arrival you can tell these two are more than a few stitches short of a quilt. They don’t seem to be super normal in most stretches of the imagination. The kids have a strict 9:30pm curfew and for good reason. I mean hell, I would not want to come out of that room to see my Grandma stark naked with pooey blood all over her wrinkled body. Hot and bothered yet? This woman gets naked a lot. It seems to go with the theme of being mentally perturbed and it works. Only few people should be seen naked on film.

Sidenote: How fun would it be to act batshit crazy, all naked and covered in what I would imagine to be chocolate pudding and raspberry jam, YUM! While screaming profanities and creepy demoinic things at children?! While getting paid! 

One of my favourite scenes in this movie has to be where Grandpa mashes his shitty jam diaper in the face of the young and budding Howie Mandel OCD runner up. It was magical, disgusting and so many feelings all at once. Not sure what it was but seeing that kid get ‘pied’ up with some depends makes me fart and giggle simultaneously, and who doesn’t like a giggle toot every now and then. I quite liked the visit, and you should too because I’m usually right.

Rosemary’s Baby


I guess this is why they save the best for last. La piece de la resistance. Rosemary’s Baby is basically Mecca for all that is creepy  and old. These geriatrics pray on the young and supple Rosemary and her studly husband Guy (who’s kinda rapey, but I digress.) The premise starts off with this young fertile couple dying to get into the hottest apartment building in the city. They are pumped with the vontage decor and the ‘nice’ neighbours…kay. Soon the neighbours get a little close, giving Rosemary smelly necklaces and chalky chocolate mousse. If that isn’t a red flag then I don’t know what is. After she manages to choke down that craptasic brown sludge given by Ms. Castavet she falls into a haze and BOOM she’s naked on the bed surrounded by  equally as naked demon worshipers. Satan desecrates her body in a pretty horrific scene, and she wakes up with scratches all over her to which her asshole hubby Guy says he couldn’t contain himself. Yea. Fucking. Right.

Rosemary now has a demon baby swimming around her uterine sack and he likes it in there. Poor girl has gone through a series of doctors, friends and neighbours to try and help a sister out, but it seems as though they are ALL in on it and she can’t catch a break. The movie basically ends by Rosemary excepting her fate as the mother of the Anti-Christ and everyone is friends again and like her short haircut.


In conclusion, all I can really say is don’t underestimate the power of the old. They may move slow and smell like rotting brie, but the truth of the matter is, they’re tougher than you. They are possessed better than you. They also have the uncanny ability to be abducted, probed and plopped down to earth, and people wouldn’t know the difference because they already look like they’ve been dropped naked from thirty feet.

Is old me-maw putting peanut butter on her hair again? Just put up with her stories and call it a day – you don’t want to anger any satan worshipping escaped mental patients who are possessed by demonic forces.


Skully’s Suits Vol II

Supp Horrs,

Lately it has become clear to me the monumental importance of the Women’s Outfit. It holds an otherworldly, hypnotic power over the internet scouring populace, the grocery store media, and the world.

Just look at the headlines sheeple.

KimFrockScreen Shot 2016-01-25 at 11.58.58 AMScreen Shot 2016-01-25 at 12.03.03 PM

Like an X-file gradually unravelling before my eyes,  clues such as these have guided me towards a greater purpose. A narrow scope, if you will, to focus my hard-hitting journalistic skills on. The singular issue that matters; WHAT WOMEN ARE WEARING. As the American hero Caitlyn Jenner recently said,

“The hardest part about being a women is figuring out what to wear.”

That revelation along with the new mini-season of the X-files premiering spurred me to revisit the paranormal mystery that is Agent Dana Skully’s immense and immeasurable collection of polyester power suits.

I will pick right back up with S01 EP04.

In this Mulder-centric episode that is an early effort to add fodder to the X-Files canon, Skully blazes onto the screen sporting a frank little Navy number with bold shoulder-padding that really lets you know she’s a boss.

Screen Shot 2016-01-25 at 12.10.49 PM

The case sees no fewer than four outfit changes from our leading lady, all power suits.

S01 EP05 is a classic monster of the week jam that deals with an icon of American folklore, the Jersey Devil. It also deals with a truly baffling amount of outfit changes from our beloved Dana Skully.

The first number on the shoulder pad express is navy number which she pairs with an eye-catching coral blouse. Props for keeping the buttons nice and done up.

Screen Shot 2016-02-11 at 9.30.40 AM

Skully then shows up at her niece or nephew’s (wgaf) birthday wearing a suede vest atop a ribbed t-shirt. 

Screen Shot 2016-02-11 at 9.32.32 AM

We carry on the story to find Skully in yet another one of her suit sets, walking down some street like she means business.

Screen Shot 2016-02-11 at 9.33.23 AM

Later she goes out on a date (which might be the only one ever in the X-Files,) wearing a lacy long sleeve that could have easily time travelled from H&M circa 2009.

Screen Shot 2016-02-11 at 9.33.45 AM

Finally, we cap off the episode with Skully rocking two more padded suit jackets.

S01E06 opens with a serious question; Agent Skully, where do you find the space to house this colossal collection of power suits?

Screen Shot 2016-02-11 at 9.51.06 AM

This question continues to bugger my mind as mystery presents further fuel.

Screen Shot 2016-02-11 at 9.52.57 AM

The sheer bulk of them… I mean no more than 5 or 6 could really fit in any average sized closet or wardrobe…

…Yet the parade is seemingly endless.

Gillian Anderson was 24 years old during the first season of the X-Files. Lets assume Agent Skully was meant to be around the same age. We are to believe  she hasn’t figured it all out as her scientific and ever reasoning mind is constantly being challenged by the paranormal and unexplainable. That being said, at 24 she has managed to trump the hardest part about being a woman, she always knows what to wear.


Re-Make Shme-Make. Martyrs Edition.


Afternoon my little horrs,

Today it is with great sadness that I am reporting, yes, there is a remake to one of our favourite horror movies, Martyrs. If you haven’t seen the 2008 original, you should watch it. I’ll wait…

Welcome back (places internet blanket delicately on shivering body). I know you’re scared, confused, probably need a smoke and a hug… we’ll get through this together.

It’s not difficult to see why Martyrs OG is one of the best, albeit visually disturbing, horror movies out there. It’s unapologetically acted and the original story line is strong like bull, just to name two generalizations. When I first heard there was a remake I couldn’t find enough tables to flip. WHY?! WHY THIS! Is nothing sacred?!

Clearly I’m not alone, people have taken to twitter in a sea of swift-typing anger to air their grievances about the whitewashed vanilla remake imminently storming movie screens across the world.

I know Martyrs OG has a cult following, yet some think that one watch of the film is more than enough, a la Requiem For A Dream. But, there is something I believe categorizes Martyrs OG as a perfect horror film.


Bath time! (Martyrs 2008)

When I first saw the OG years ago, I was still a young, budding, impressionable horror fan. I’ll admit, back in my day I used to watch these types of brutal films with my ears and eyes closed in the cinema (yes it’s possible and no I won’t give away my secrets.) I wouldn’t truly enjoy them. Upon maturing into a semi-regular person, I was able to see there was more to horror films than jump scares, gore and jiggling boobs (which are all still awesome by the way.) I originally watched Martyrs OG as a recommendation from a friend of mine. I was essentially blind to the premise, plot and basically everything the film encompassed. Upon watching the initial scenes, it was clear this was not a film for the squeamish. From the blatant home invasion murder extravaganza to the self-harm demon, shit was immediately getting real. We, the audience, are then bombarded with intense torture scenes, relentless in nature and absolutely brutal to watch. However, this isn’t just torture porn. Yes, at some points you wince and think “Why the f*** am I watching this?” Similarly, you then continue to wonder “Why  the f*** can’t I stop?’ It’s because Martyrs OG wants to take you there, to the inner most disturbing reaches of your imagination. It wants to tantalize the shit out of that sick and disturbed part of you, because it should be (or hopefully is) under-utilizedThis is where the ‘Murica 2016 Martyrs apparently falls flat.


The face you make when you forget to close the ketchup lid. (Martyrs 2016)

In a way, I kind of understand the why someone just needed to do a remake. Martyrs OG has a huge following in the horror community, it is already a classic must see type of horror. That being said, the film itself is anything but an easy watch. Most non-horror fans, or people new to the genre, would be off put by the torture, gore and insanity. New French Extremity is not for the faint of heart, or full diapered. This remake is bound to be, in every sense of the word, a whitewashed version of the OG. The budget is smaller, it was all shot in 17 days and it wants to be everything to everybody. It’s aiming to be accessible to the teenage girls of North America yet satisfy the die-hard genre aficionados. You can’t have your crucifixion and and leave the skin on. You can’t have your cake and eat it too. This particular cake being a stale McCain deep and delicious. It looks good and glossy but you know its a cheap knockoff of that chocolate cake from the New French Extremist bakery down the street. You heathens.

What it all boils down to I guess is money. Accessibility to a wider, English speaking audience means more bank. I personally know people who won’t watch foreign films because it usually requires more reading than they have done in a year. I also know people who would easily refuse to watch the OG for being too brutal, because they are giant pussies. Either way, neither versions are for everyone. This isn’t the goddamn notebook. If you’re a fan of the Martyrs OG like a normal crimson blooded horror fan, skip the remake. I plan to for clearly obvious reasons. This bastardization of one of my favourite horror movies was blacklisted the minute I saw the trailer for this piece of shit.

Sorry if this sounds harsh but I just finished reading the mini interview with one of the stars and she sounds more vapid than a past, present and future Trump wife.

Even as a hardcore horror fan, it’s a pretty brutal film. I’m curious as to what you thought of it.

It is. But I watched it through a technical eye, because I knew I was going to do the reimagining. It wasn’t too bad. Maybe because I was being technical about it.


Perhaps this way we can discourage film makers and Scrooge McDuckish money hoarders everywhere to stop feeding us shitty remakes of foreign classics.

If you haven’t seen the OG and like pastel water colour prints, fluffy bunnies and white nightgowns with a spec of red them… see the remake. Tell your like-minded friends you have horror chops. Poak chops.

Feel free to watch the new trailer and and have a hate-on for yourself.

For some further reviews and other reading:

Until next time my little sauces.



Basic VS Badass – GTFO of My House Edition

Sup Horrs?

Most horror films are fitted with a female protagonist (which is probably why we love it so much) though not all of these final girls are alike. They can be portrayed with the wrath of 1000 suns or the conviction of a fart in the wind. For every agent of badassery, there is a female lead who is as basic-as-balls on dolls. She flails, she flounders, she makes kindergarten level bad decisions and more over she sets a bad example for all aspiring massacre survivors.

In this new series we are going to talk about two films; one with a badass bitch and one with a hopelessly basic one (insert tattered wife beater here). In the case we are pitting Bruce McDonald’s (we love you Bruce!) hopelessly horrible Hellions(2015) against Gerard Johnstone’s New Zealand, horror-with-heart Housebound(2014.)

We will begin with a brief summary of each excluding of course the ending / twist of the film. We’re not THAT rude.


On all Hallows eve, our basic as-all-hell protagonist Dora, finds out she’s been knocked up on by her edgy boyfriend Jace (I bet his middle name is spaceship, or banana). This is a real bummer for Dora as she wants nothing more than to smoke weed with Jace and continue wearing see-through plastic leopard print raincoats while she cycles moodily around her small town.


Bish don’t kill my vibe

For some loosely explained reason (A blood moon curse? We’re sure there is a period joke in here somewhere), demon trick-or-treaters besiege her house in hopes of acquiring her rapidly growing unborn baby. Fetus’… so hot right now.

Dora doesn’t catch on at first that some fuckery is a foot as the hellions repeatedly come-a-knocking because she’s clearly done all the rocking. She doesn’t even flinch when when their malevolent chorus of “trick or treat” echoes with the memory of a thousand dying souls, not to be confused with Dalmatians. Girl, these creatures have tiny little demon hands and are wearing intentionally terrifying costumes of an autumn-horror-harvest variety. That concept is far to sophisticated for a six year old to have come up with and then subsequently recruit a whole gang of other six year olds to go along with it. They aren’t even out of the bowl cut phase! If there isn’t at least one Iron Man in the bunch board up your fucking windows immediately.


Not Iron Man

Anyway, the hellions return with dreamy Jace’s head in their dirty burlap candy sack and Dora does not cope well, she’s a Twix fan. We will cut the girl some slack, she’s been through a hell of a lot that day already what with finding out she’s a potential Teen Mom 6 applicant, but after the initial 911 call etc she really needed to pull it together.


Not a Twix

She subsequently spends the rest of the film in a state of confused and utter panic, running amok in a virginal angel costume that we’re sure is supposed to allude to something or other. Its almost offensive how useless she becomes in the face of danger.

Upon discovering the hellions melt after being sprinkled with a mere pinch of salt, instead of making a salt circle around herself in an open space and shouting “demon away,” or using it in ANY OTHER FUCKING WAY POSSIBLE she messily loads shot gun pellets with the remaining sodium spilling much of it on the floor, which was literally more useful than the pellets. She then runs outside into a veritable maze of billowing white sheets drying in the wind, and fires her few shells blindly at the childish cackling laughter of the demons echoing, of course, from all places at once. Basic.


Badass-bitch Kylie (not to be confused with the puffy lipped cyst in pop culture) is surrendered to her parents care, and put under house arrest after a buffoonish ATM robbery got her booked. She’s also fitted with an ankle bracelet which is monitored by a security officer named Amos, who clearly wants to bone her. Kylie, a legal adult but maybe just, has a terrible attitude and is hilariously and unapologetically rude to her pottering mother and boring stepfather Graeme (On a side note, we would love a spin off about these two brilliant elders.) She is slobbish, ungrateful and subsequently enviable in her total lack of fucks given. 


Zero FFFFFFFucks

This big old house Kylie’s mum owns, her now prison, tends to go bump in the night and her mother has taken to calling into a paranormal radio show to air her grievances. Kylie thinks this is utter shit, because caring is over rated. Amos, we discover, is an aspiring ghost hunter and brings in all the bleeping and blooping ghost hunting equipment to check things out, he clearly has Amazon Prime and is NOT afraid to use it.


Not someone who is afraid of Amazon Prime

After Kylie reluctantly teams up with Amos after a few spooky experiences of her own, we spend the remainder of the film engrossed in her badass antics. An amateur sleuth already, she fearlessly breaks into her suspicious and hickish neighbour’s house in search of clues of a decades old murder. She battles with a verbally abuses her sinister psychiatrist who is trying to institutionalize her and all-in-all never backs down or lets out anything resembling a high-pitched scream. Badass.


Where Dora and Kylie differ is in their attitudes towards the danger they are faced with. Dora uses the last of her salt shells, which to her knowledge is the only thing that will kill her enemy, to have a cinematic meltdown in linen tornado.

Kylie bravely confronts three different people on three separate occasions who she believes to be murderers. She stirs the MFing pot, all the while knowing she is literally trapped via ankle bracelet right in the middle of all the ratchetry.

One could argue that different characters should have different reactions to different situations. One being basic and one being badass, thus adding complexity and diversity to the narratives we view. We are arguing that watching our protagonist fumble through danger helplessly shrieking, crying and ultimately succumbing to the evil just sucks. We much prefer a horror hero who embodies the characteristics we would hope ourselves would have when faced with a similar situation.

Give us a badass over a basic any day.

Peace out Sauce Monsters,

Screams and Scarah

Lists Before Fists 2015

Sup Sauce Monsters?

The year has come to a close, the egg nog hangovers are a thing of the past, and the next ‘holiday’ is Valentines day which we all know is complete bullshit. So, what better way than another ‘best of list’ to remember the dismal year that was 2015? Why is this one more important than the rest on the stinking heap? Because we eat, sleep, breathe horror and our moms’ say we’re smart.

In 2015, like most years, horror movies have gone the way of the adolescent male. There were a handful of hard hits, quite a few flaccid misses, and countless semis. To save you some embarrassment, we’ve looked under every groin covering binder to help you decide which flick to hit, miss, or at least dry hump.

We’ve decided to take a saucy approach to this listicle, summarizing each fearful film in a mere two sentences, to satisfy shrinking attention spans.

Without any further ah choo, our Best of 2015 in no particular order… because that’s like asking which kid is your favourite. The answer is none, none kid.



Due to his mother’s meth problem, metal head Brody moves in his with bible thumping relatives in small town New Zealand. He and his band unwittingly unleash an ultimate evil via an ill advised demon summoning hymn; bloody poop jokes ensue.

The Best: Dildo Fights



A bookish beauty with a hefty inheritance falls for a broke Baronnette with a crazy sister. He whisks her away to his crumbling clay stained manor which is super haunted, both by ghosts and his shady past deeds (he threw so much shade.)

The Best: Face Stabbing



A shitty new boyfriend pawns off a murderous stalking spirit on his new girl via boning. The girl in turn has a lot of sex trying to pawn her inevitable death off on someone else.

The Best: Hospital Bed Sex



Four vampires from different historical periods/vampire tropes are dysfunctional flatmates in modern day Wellington, New Zealand. When a contemporary DJ is vamporized their centuries-old routine is thrown out of whack.

The Best: MFING Peter



Two kids visit their estranged grandparents while their Walmart-employed mom is off on a tacky cruise with her sexy new hispanic boyfriend. The found footage style of the film (one kid is making a documentary of the experience) shows us a creepy portrait of these bizarrely behaved old fogeys and their apparently sinister motives.

The Best: Dirty Diapers



A horror western that makes you thankful you were born in the era of smartphones and indoor plumbing. A mans wife was stolen by a herd of troglodytes (fucking love that word) and it’s a race against time to steal her back from these loin cloth wearing heathens.

The Best: Dick + Blunt Axe



A horror movie that goes straight to the what would happen if the victim (a) escaped, and instead of running frantically, helped rescue other victims (b-e). Stockholm syndrome is a hellavuh drug and its not as easy as it looks.

The Best: McGuyver Style Human Ketch-All



Rookie cop on her first day of work is in charge of supervising a soon-to-be abandoned police station. The place is haunted as all hell by some Charles Manson wannabe killers with terrible teeth.

The Best: Shark-Mouthed Hillbillies



A few friends seek out the most intense and realistic haunted houses across ‘Murica. They ultimately find what they’re looking for, except they didn’t expect death…idiots.

The Best: Quick Moving Clowns

(I f***ing hate clowns)



A dying man hires a videographer to make a movie for his unborn child to help him grow up…and learn man stuff. The dying man is a complete psycho, and its amazing the videographer didn’t figure it out sooner.

The Best: Mascot Heads


Welp my children that’s it for today. I hope we endeared you JUST enough to watch some of these films, we promise you will not be disappointed, and if you are, I heard that new comedy with Anne Hathaway is pretty good.

Scarahh & Screamss