Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Trilogy Of Terror

There are more than a couple movies from the 1970s that, although the acting and the production was bad, still managed to scare the bejeezus out of this ten-year-old geek.

After all, I am rather a sissy. (As evidenced by my odd use of the word "rather" in that sentence.)

Satan's Triangle, a film starring Kim Novak, caused me nightmares into my 20s, long after I'd forgotten the flick's title. Salem's Lot--the original, not the Rob Lowe afterthought--was scary as hell. But one movie from the mid-70s was worse than them all. One flick was so frightful and terrible that, despite being poorly produced, it made me cry when I went to bed that night after watching it.

Trilogy Of Terror, sometimes titled Terror Of The Doll, starred Karen Black as the lead in three vignettes . The first two I can't recall at all; I'm sure they were fine tales, but for me they were secondary to the final story of a Zuni fetish doll that comes to life. The vignette, titled Amelia, was a one-actor play produced way before the time of Chucky and great special effects.


The effects were awful, the story was pretty lame and the plot was unbelievable.

But I nearly peed in my pants! Here's why:



I'm still haunted by it.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Days Of Thunder

When Mrs. Film Geek insisted we see Days Of Thunder back in '90, I was confused. Neither of us was interested in race cars, race car drivers or movies about the racing industry. Watching a drama with that plot sounded about as thrilling to me as watching cars driven in a circle for 500 miles.

Over the top boring!

Then, it dawned on me. Mrs. Film Geek wasn't really interested in the movie. She was interested in watching Tom Cruise. You remember the simpler times: when people flocked to a Tom Cruise flick because he was all hot. Now, it seems, people run away from his more recent movies because he's a couch-jumper.

Life's strange that way, eh?

I recall thinking--during the couple times I paid attention to the clunker--how the characters in the film had what sounded like porn names.

Cole Trickle.
Claire Lewicki. ("Dr." Clair Lewickie to you and me, Russ.)
Buck Bretherton.

The ugly co-star, Randy Quaid, drew the name Tim Daland. I suppose he just wasn't porn movie material.




Aside from an aphrodisiac, I can't think of much positive about this movie. But, it was a powerful mood enhancer, as I recall.

Cruise is just that pretty.





(Speaking of: I gotta remember to add this movie to my Netflix que. Just to see if I [ahem] remember the plot correctly.)

Until then, I'm still haunted by it.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Halloween III: Season Of The Witch

Through 1983, nearly every movie I saw was watched at Groves Theater, in Summersville, West Virginia. Sure, I saw a flick now and again in nearby Beckley or at the Craigsville Drive-In, but Groves' was the place against which I measured all other silver screens.

It felt like home. 

My movie-going experience then was as much about the social experience as it was about the movie I paid to see. There were no ads or commercials in those days -- can you believe that, kids?!?-- so we spent pre-trailer time going seat-to-seat talking with friends or flirting. Or, we'd hang out at the small concession corner before buying a bucket of buttered popcorn. 

And Groves Theater sold the biggest, hottest, butteriest bucket of popcorn around. 

As soon as the trailers started we settled in, hoping to be entertained. Sometimes we were, sometimes we weren't. Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982) was, for me, a weren't. 

It wasn't just that this sans-Mike Myers installment was poorly produced, even though it was. (Seriously, how is a movie that combines Halloween, Stonehenge, androids, and a plan to sacrifice children supposed to make any cash at the box office?) No, what made this film a horrible experience for me is the scene where insects and snakes come out of the pumpkin-head mask worn by Buddy Junior as he died watching TV.  

It was horrifying. I clutched my girlfriend's hand tighter and closed my eyes. 

Years later I can't get the music from that scene out of my head. Nor can I exorcise the poor script and terrible acting witnessed that night, too. 

I loved the popcorn. But that damn movie still haunts me. 

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Night And The City

It was 1992, and I thought Robert De Niro was the best actor who ever lived.

Following a string of what would be iconic roles in classic films (The Godfather: Part II, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull) and incredible performances in really good movies (The Deer Hunter, The King Of Comedy, Midnight Run), De Niro had, in a very short period of time, built the body of work of which legends are made.

Mrs. Film Geek and I were fans of De Niro. Serious fans. Recently married, we were just starting to build a life together. Money was tight, and entertainment that cost anything more than nothing was rare. Once a month we'd go out to eat and see a movie afterwards, and we really cherished that weekend.

We looked forward to it, and planned it with excitement and great anticipation.

That's why I'm still pissed off that I spent $14 for tickets and $18 for concessions on the opening night of Night And The City!

De Niro, as bumbling, dirtball attorney Harry Fabian, never rose above the too-complicated-to-follow and tell-me-why-I-should-care script. And Jessica Lange's Helen was completely unbelievable.

On top of the $32 we spent at the theater, Mrs. Film Geek and I hit a nearby Shoney's afterwards for a cup of coffee and two orders of fudge cake. We probably shouldn't have paid the additional $12, but we needed something to get our mind off the piece of crap movie we'd just paid good money to see. The fudge cake, at least, was really good.

Night And The City? Not so much. It was so bad, in fact, it still haunts me.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Howard The Duck

The air was chilly and rain was frequent during that hunting season in 1979, especially near the top of Spruce Knob, West Virginia. Camping with my father and grandfather was fun, but I didn't mind staying in the camper.

Warm, and dry.


It helped that the local grocer down the mountain had a stash of Howard The Duck comic books to keep me entertained. I really liked the Howard title.

"Trapped in a world he never made."

(Just like me, and every other 14 year old in the world.)


It was those memories that made me excited to see the film adaptation of Howard a few years later, in the mid-80s.

The movie poster was prophetic: it really did lay an egg. And it really, still, haunts me!

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: In Search Of Noah's Ark

In 1976, the single-screen Groves Theater in my hometown of Summersville ran Rocky for six consecutive weeks.

Six!

The flick sold a lot of tickets, so I can understand why theater management held it over for so long. But The Italian Stallion was bogartin' the screen, and holding me back from my entertainment options!

It probably didn't matter much anyway, because Rocky wasn't a movie my parents had an interest in seeing, or in making sure their eldest 11-year-old son saw. Nope, The Film Geek's parents weren't really into the PG scene, so the few movies we did attend as a family typically had "Disney" in the title, or involved religion.

Although I liked Gus, I would have preferred Rocky.

One of the worst movies I recall seeing with my family at Groves Theater was In Search Of Noah's Ark.

With the tagline: "The greatest discovery of our time," In Search Of Noah's Ark was really a documentary in which producers tried to intertwine myth and science to produce tangible results to validate their beliefs. But there were serious flaws with the production:
1. The science was bad
2. The theology was bad
3. The special effects were bush league
4. The film relied on exaggeration and innuendo to make it's point

I hated Noah's Ark, but not for the reasons listed. Getting out to see a movie with my family was a pretty rare occurance, and something I really looked forward to doing. And although I watched it with buttered popcorn and Goobers, watching this movie was less like family time and more like attending a church service.

And I did enough of that already.

I'm still haunted by it.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Boxing Helena

I was feeling sorta amorous one Friday evening in 1993, and found myself at the local video store looking through that section.

Not the Triple-X section located near the back and closed off by some mismatched curtains. Nope, the hardcore stuff is for Saturday night!

I said this was a Friday.

The section of videos through which I was browsing housed the sensual, artsy flicks. The kind Mrs. Film Geek digs. Which makes me dig them, too.


I stumbled upon one that looked interesting. I hadn't heard much buzz about it, but the cover seemed, well, sensual.

The title, Boxing Helena, was unusual. But, I figured, artsy flicks are quirky. A nearly naked chick in a rectangle-shaped box is still a nearly naked chick.

I decided I'd make it work.

I dimmed the lights, snuggled up close on the love seat and hit "play." The mood was set perfectly. Now, all that remained was for Boxing Helena to work her mojo.

There's something off-putting about a film in which an obsessed surgeon keeps a woman in his home and systematically amputates her legs and her arms. It's a deal breaker when the imprisoned and mutilated woman later returns his affection, as if what's been done to her was simply an annoyance she can forgive.

Boxing Helena...so bad, I didn't need a cold shower.

I'm still haunted by it.

Lucy

For several years an on-going series was posted on this site called "Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me." The bit generally involved me ripping on some movie I saw as a kid that was so poorly made that I remembered the badness as a result.

Is there a statute of limitations on the number of years before I can add Lucy to that list?

Luc Besson's flick begins with promise. Scarlett Johansson in the lead role is a huge get. Add a plot involving an international drug ring, plan to tell the story with interesting imagery, and sign mega-star Morgan Freeman to co-star and you might expect producers to sit back and rake in the cash and critical praise.

The problem is, Lucy doesn't deliver on its promise.

Freeman -- once an actor's actor who delivered masterful supporting performances -- is used in such a deeply peripheral role he hardly seems connected at all to the movie. The drug ring portion of the plot has no substance after the first half of the flick. And the imagery --especially the quick shot of a mouse about to be captured in a mousetrap -- comes across more pretentious than interesting.


The audience is told over and over again that we humans use only about 10% of our brain capacity. (The 10% bit isn't true science, but it's an important MacGuffin for this plot.) After watching Lucy, however, I'm afraid my brain capacity may have significantly diminished.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Beloved

I have this thing I do, when Mrs. Film Geek and I actually make it to a theater, that's designed to embarrass her. With my best dumb guy voice-- and, believe it or not, I can really sound like a dumb guy!--I purposely confuse the movie title or it's stars when I order the tickets.

For example, when we went to see Beloved (1998), starring The Big O.

[Dumb guy] "Two to see the Opal Winston movie, please."

Sure, it's goofy. But sometimes it makes her laugh. And, it keeps the romance sizzlin' at home.


IfyouknowwhatImean.

I wish we had picked another movie instead. Beloved, which starred Danny Glover and Thandie Newton in addition to Opal--uh, I mean Oprah--was just god-awful. Winfrey played Sethe, a former slave who moved after the Civil War to a farm in southern Ohio. Glover co-starred as a friend, Paul, who happened upon her and was invited to move in. Newton's character, Beloved, arrived unexpectedly about the same time strange poltergeist-type occurrences began on the farm. The character was almost absurd: she moved in a herky-jerky sort of way, had to be taught to speak and had the affect of a zombie. Turns out she may have been the ghost of Sethe's dead daughter.

In addition, the popcorn sucked that night. It was cold, greasy and not salty enough.

The only good thing about the flick was that it was a serious stumbling block for the otherwise ultra-successful Winfrey. It probably kept her from making another feature.

It still haunts me.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Raising Cain

There was no way Raising Cain could miss, I thought. No possible way.

Written and directed by Brian De Palma? Starring versatile actor John Lithgow and boasting a thriller-type plot that centered on child abuse and the effects of psychological trauma? In 1992 Raising Cain was a movie I was jacked up to see.


I mean, c'mon. De Palma! The genius behind Scarface, and Body Double, two of my all-time favorite films. Not to mention Carrie, for god's sake.

I forgot, though, that he was also the mastermind behind duds like Casualties Of War, Wise Guys and Blow Out.

Raising Cain was worse.

It was 90 minutes or so of the most confusing, senseless cinematic jacknuttery I had seen to that point. And perhaps since.

So confusing, in fact, that I can't even describe the plot. All in know is, Lithgow played four characters, "Carter" "Cain" "Dr. Nix" "Josh" and "Margo."

Oh wait, that's five. See? Confusing.

I'm still haunted by it.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Gymkata

Waiting--along with 50 other parents each week, on over-stuffed couches and lounge chairs--for my children to finish up their gymnastics lessons can make for a long evening. I've tried bringing along a book for pleasure, and last week even resorted to taking work with me to do while I wait.

No matter what I do, though, each week I struggle with the same traumatic memory:






Gymkata!







The mother to the left of me smiles as her young son lands perfectly off the trampoline. "The skill of gymnastics..." I think. My daughter does a round-off and effortlessly moves into a high toe-touch.

I smile. "...the kill of karate."

It's a whole room full of little Kurt Thomas' just waiting to become Jason Bourne.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Ghost Dad

Back in 1990, a co-worker's husband died. A few months later, several of us put our heads together and come up with a list of social activities designed to get her back on her feet once she was ready. She gave us the green light, and we took her to see the newest movie release of her favorite TV star, Bill Cosby.

That's right. We took a woman who had recently been widowed to see Ghost Dad.

We didn't figure out what we had done until Cosby's Elliott Harper bit the bullet. It was about that time that several of us left the theater to get more popcorn.

In.The.Longest.Line.Possible.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Re-Animator

"One more game of pool, then let's put in a DVD. Whattya say?" My friend Danny is a movie freak, and back then had several hundred titles in his game room to choose from. Although he seemed partial to horror flicks.

Real partial.

He's a doctor, and one would think he'd see so much blood and guts during a typical workday that he wouldn't be up to having a healthy obsession with slasher flicks.

One would be wrong.


"Ever see Re-Animator?" he asked. I told him I hadn't. He put it in.


Motherofgawd...

Sweetlordhavemercy...

Jesuseffenchrist...


Danny said it was funny, and that the intended humor was an important element in the flick. I didn't peek though my fingers long enough to see the joke.

I'm still haunted by it.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Showgirls

I really liked much of writer Joe Eszterhas' earlier work, particularly Jagged Edge and Basic Instinct. I thought both films blended drama and sensuality really well, and were smart, interesting films.

I read the reviews for Showgirls, and realized "smart" and "interesting" were most likely out. The critics panned the flick hard from the start, and it was obvious this movie was going the way of Heaven's Gate and Ishtar.


With only "sensuality" remaining as a hopeful possibility, I plopped down a couple of dollars just to see the chick from Saved By The Bell sans clothes. This was Elizabeth Berkley's big movie break, and she took a huge gamble that this film would pay off.



She crapped out.


In what was meant to be one of the most sexually charged scenes in the movie, Berkley's character seduced a man in a swimming pool. The acting during the sex scene is so absurd that I couldn't help but laugh.

The movie was a career buster for Berkley, at least in regard to films. She had a small role in The First Wives Club, but almost all of her other work has been in television. And Eszterhas hit a career snag too, with very little of his work being produced since.

Showgirls...[shudder]

I'm still haunted by it.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Supergirl

Short skirt and blonde hair
And her super powers, too
Caused me such a thrill.

Then I watched it. Sigh...

A movie with less drama
Than the Super Friends.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Freejack

A flick staring Mick Jagger as the time traveling mercenary who kidnaps Emilio Estevez into the future so his body can serve as the host for the wealthy Anthony Hopkins sounded like such a good way to spend a Friday night.

At the time. (No pun intended.)



Freejack, a dystopian nightmare set in 2009, still haunts me.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Body Of Evidence

Looking to cash in on the kinky-sex-thriller-train started by Basic Instinct a year earlier, Body Of Evidence promised sensuality, high drama and top shelf acting.

The flick delivered on none of it.

The plot was too familiar: Rich guy is found dead, handcuffed to a bed with cocaine in his system. His kinky lover (played by Madonna) is arrested for his murder. Her attorney (played by Willem Dafoe) believes in her innocence, and falls for her charms. As the trial ends, however, he begins to suspect she may have committed the crime.




Yawn...





Body Of Evidence made Basic Instinct seem like an Academy Award winner. Madonna's stiff acting and the over-the-top sex stunts--do even the kinkiest among us wanna have sex on a bed of broken light bulbs?--made Sharon Stone's leg cross look genius in comparison.

Like a virgin indeed...

I'm still haunted by it.

Flashback! Bad Movies That Haunt Me: Speed

A bomb's on the bus
"What do you do? What. To. Do?"
Ask for a refund