In Space, Everyone Hears You Scream - Event Horizon (1997)
The late 90s and early 00s were a different time, okay. We didn’t really have internet back then; no video content, social media was nothing more than a phone call or a text message (that you had to pay for), and there were definitely no opportunities to have opinions.
Plus, I was young, barely a teenager who had bed-times, a limited number of TV stations (even fewer in my own bedroom) and, not to mentions that whole lack of money thing.
In that world, horror (and similar content) was limited; sure, there were the covers of Fangoria that you might see in the newsagents, but I wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere near them (plus, the music or comic-related content might be cooler.) When I wanted to borrow a VHS tape from Xtra-Vision, it would have to be something that everyone would and could watch. And even if any horror films were going to be shown somewhere that I could watch, was it on at a time I could get near it?
Putting it like that, it’s a wonder I turned out to be me at all.
Nine Killed You, Nine Shall Die - The Abominable Dr Phibes (1971)
As a married man who has gone through his own medical dramas, there’s something about The Abominable Dr. Phibes that sets a particularly high standard for me. After watching this film, I now highly expect that, as and when something ever happens to me, my husband will take on the Vincent Price role and avenge my death.
Them’s the fucking rules, peeps.
Such is the somewhat beautiful premise of this film, a camp and silly story that is very indicative of its age. First released in 1971, the film plays with those elements of camp, keeping its tongue firmly in cheek throughout. Thankfully, it’s coming from a time where that camp wasn’t always screamed at and forced upon its audience, and works poignantly well within this narrative.
The Historian: Book Review
As an English undergraduate, there were many (many, many, many) books that I picked up with the intention of reading...and never finished. A lot of them, I never even started.
I mentioned that a few posts back in a review on The Strain series and the connected TV show. After reading and watching that series, it seemed natural to continue dealing with the undead, It felt natural to remain on a path of vampires, and to revisit another failed reading attempt. Amazon tells me that I bought the Kindle copy of The Historian in August 2012, probably a similar time to The Strain: clearly, my brain was in that same vampiric world as I am now.
The Strain Or The Struggle
Somehow, I just couldn't (and still can't) find salvation in The Strain, either the books or the TV show.
I guess the clue is in the name, really?
When The Shit Gets Shitty
You know when you're having one of those days when life is just being a bit of a dick to you?
Yeah, that day's been running for a few months at this stage, like some sort of time-travel of something. I am in Groundhog Day and don't even have the joy of putting up some snow.
Last blog-post, did a video game review thingy; this means I haven't written a shit in...three and a half months. As a guy who wants to write shit, that counts as a fail, doesn't it? I did publish a short story, The Shortest Night, but even I wasn't all that happy with it (because, you know, I have dumb standards of myself.
That One Kids TV Show You Barely Remember
Over the last few months, I've noticed little things coming back. Whether it's my brain firing synapses that haven't been touched in a very long time or if it's that things from the past are becoming cool once more, I'm not entirely sure.
RETRO IS IN, I declare to nobody in particular.
10 Things About Cancer Treatment Nobody Talks About
I'm a full year out of the madness, 366 days (it's a leap-year after all) on from treatment for a "grade two astrocytoma with grade three elements." It's a posh way of saying I had a brain tumour, and it was sort of cancerous. That's a full year on from feeling like shit every other day, wondering why your body has betrayed you and just how it's going to get worse.
I can now say, with a weird sense of guilt and a weirder sense of terror that "I've gotten better."
Kind of better. I don't want to jinx it.
Let's Talk About Cancer
Today, 4th February is World Cancer Day. So let's take some time away from movies and films and selfies and water charges and talk about cancer.
What's that? You don't want to talk about cancer?
Yeah, tough shit.
Stranger Danger
It's been a while since I read comics properly, certainly not in the same way that I used to. It's been 20-25 years of toying around with certain worlds and characters, always coming back at different times. (I thought those numbers were a bit overly generous, then I did a quick Google search. Apparently, the X-Men animated series debuted in 1992: at 24 years, we may as well round up to 25, right?
That cartoon series was like a gateway drug for me, introducing me to worlds and characters that were so bold and new and brave that they drew me in fully until I was watching them every chance I got. I watched every time I could: I bought episodes on VHS (okay, I got my parents to buy them); a used my pocket-money to buy comics and trading cards and T-shirts.
The trading cards were my favourite, little biographies of characters, heroes and villains alike; summaries of plotlines and epic fights that I wanted to experience for myself.
It was the 90s.
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