“Bone Tomahawk” (2015) was superb. “Wyatt Earp” meets “Cannibal “Holocaust!”

Let’s get something out of the way first — “Bone Tomahawk” (2015) isn’t only a western.  It’s a genre-busting … “horror-western,” as other review sites have called it.  It pits four protagonists against a tribe of monstrous “cave dwellers” who have kidnapped two people from their tiny frontier town of “Bright Hope.”  And the results at the movie’s end are pretty damned horrifying.

This was superb — I’d give it a 9 out of 10.  “Bone Tomahawk” succeeds in being scary and enjoyable simply because it’s a quality film.  The script is outstanding, with nuanced, occasionally funny, and ultimately quite likable characters.  The four leads — Kurt Russell, Patrick Wilson, Matthew Fox and Richard Jenkins — play the diverse quartet perfectly.  I could honestly watch another one or two movies about these guys, even without the horror-movie plot device that this flick employs — and that is coming from a guy that doesn’t like westerns.

The directing and cinematography are perfect.  And the end of the movie is nerve-shattering, smartly written and satisfying.  (Although there is one violent sequence that might make your heart stop.  Good lord.)

My only criticisms are very subjective.  For one, this movie sometimes felt slow.  The exciting horror-movie element that drives the plot is introduced early, but briefly.  It is then more than an hour before we arrive at it again, as we follow the four protagonists traveling to an uncharted valley just to reach the bad guys’ lair.

For another … this movie got just a little too dour during its lengthy second act (the trek to the valley where the climax takes place).  We see a few sad things, including the fates of innocent people and animals.  These punctuate what is literally a painful journey for one of our heroes waging a doomed battle against a horribly wounded leg.  Throughout its middle,  “Bone Tomahawk” isn’t so much of a “scary movie” as it is a slightly depressing movie.

Still, this was fantastic.  And if you see it and you really like it, as I did, then spread the word.  This flick hasn’t gotten the press it deserves.

Quick postscript: watch for David Arquette and none other than Sid Haig in surprise supporting roles!  And … supposedly Sean Young was in this movie, but I’ll be damned if I could spot her.

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“A Tearless Cry,” by Tejal Jhaveri Moen

Here is a second very nice piece by my friend Tejal.  By the way, she is now a published poet!  Dead Snakes published her poem, “Don’t Touch My Soul,” on October 30th.

Enjoy “A Tearless Cry.”

“A Tearless Cry,” by Tejal Jhaveri Moen

I am grieving the loss of you,
Yet you have not died.
The innocence of the morning mist,
Torn away by your gracious lie.
Abdicating yesterday’s love
Just for the memory of your kiss.
A selfish surrender of an unsettled heart,
Renders a tearless cry.

(c) Tejal Jhaveri Moen 2015

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Photo credit: “Morning Mist and Sunshine,” by Imogen Cunningham (flikr) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Check out “Photos by JD,” featuring the work of Longwood High School Alumnus James Dentel!

If you’re looking for an outstanding fashion, glamour or events photographer in the New York area, then peruse the work of my Longwood High School Alumnus, James Dentel.  James has a terrific eye, and his work is absolutely beautiful.

You can see from that from the shots below.  They were taken at the recent “Three Nights of Horror” Halloween weekend event at the Lava Nightclub and Exit 33 in Verona, NY.

You can find more samples of James’ work at the “Photos by JD” Facebook page, and at his website:

https://www.facebook.com/PhotosByJamesD/info/

http://www.photosbyjd.net/

Nice work, James.

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New “Star Wars” TV spot with additional footage!

And its final shot is a badass view of the Millennium Falcon just barely cresting a treeline.  What a nice change from the special effects of the prequel trilogy, which sometimes looked like a videogame.

I am strongly getting the sense that the coming trilogy will not disappoint, as the prequels did.

Ye olde Nolan

I’m becoming concerned …  I keep seeing more troubling signs that I am getting older.

I can’t eat pizza and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream all day without feeling yucky.  And I have gone shopping and DELIBERATELY looked for vegetables.

I bitch inwardly about the quality of America’s public education system all the time.  (Don’t even get me started.)  I actually begin some of my (admittedly peculiar) inner monologues with the words, “There was a time in this country when …”  I have also lamented that “things were different 20 years ago.”

It recently dawned on me that my longstanding idolization of Kevin Smith may be waning …  last year’s “Tusk” just didn’t do it for me, and his recent appearance on “The Talking Dead” just seemed to feature too much childish sex humor.  I cringed.  (Lengthy analogies about oral sex aren’t THAT hilarious, people.  I suggest they have a 10-second half life.)  I still think that Smith is brilliant; I just think maybe his particular style of humor might better appeal to a guy in his 20’s.

In the Marvel movies’ upcoming “Civil War” storyline entries, I’m firmly on the side of Captain America, and not Iron Man.  Yeah, Tony Stark has the wit and the charm and the girls and the cash.  But Cap has character and good American values, with an emphasis on civil liberties.  Cap would never subject black people to an unreasonable search and seizure.  He wouldn’t enter a private home without a warrant.  And he would uphold a legal wall of separation between church and state.  Dunno about Tony.

Tori Amos is still cool, but she sounds NUTS in her interviews.

I played with a friend’s little girl on the swings the other day … and I actually got DIZZY after donning a swing myself, and trying to swing as high as her.  THAT was disconcerting.

My doctor told me to knock off all the sugar, and I am totally taking her seriously.

My buddy shared a picture today of the original Star Wars cast in 1977.  When I was a tot, I looked up to Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Princess Leia.  When I was in fifth grade, “Return of the Jedi” Leia was my heart’s desire.  (I need not even mention in which outfit.)  Today, 1977 Carrie Fisher looks like a sweet girl who could be my college sophomore daughter.  (Seriously, she looks YOUNG, people.)  Harrison Ford looks like that older kid in our hometown with the camaro, who I need to keep away from her.  Mark Hamill looks like that sweet kid down the block who wants a date with her, but won’t get one.

My friends from Longwood High School are now teachers at Longwood High School.  The cognitive dissonance connected with that is significant.

And tonight it has dawned on me that (I can’t believe I am saying this) Depeche Mode is getting maybe a little played out for me.  Oh God, I can’t believe I just typed that.  I still love MODE, I swear it!  I just think that after “Violator” has been in my playlist for two decades, it’s maybe time to retire the lesser songs like “World In My Eyes” and find some more new music.

But not “Policy of Truth.”  THAT SONG WILL LIVE FOREVER.  (And never again is what you swore the time before.)

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The new “Star Wars” international trailer shows new footage!

You heard it here first.

Okay, you probably DIDN’T hear it here first; because every time there is new footage for “Star Wars: the Force Awakens,” the Internet goes bananas.

Here it is anyway.

“Within, the wealthy lament/ The traffic at the Whitestone Bridge.”

Here’s a particularly nice shot of the Whitestone Bridge, connecting Queens, New York, with the Bronx (and Connecticut beyond).  My Longwood High School Alumnus James Dentel shot this recently, and he was kind enough to let me use it.

This is the bridge referenced in my poem, “Amanda,” which was featured by Dagda Publishing and by Dead Snakes.

I used live not far from here.  Yes, New York can be a rough place, but Whitestone, Queens and adjacent Beechurst were two of the greatest neighborhoods I ever inhabited.

 

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Here, Kitty, Kitty.

It’s the quick November dark that descends annually, silently on us like a vast black cat – just after we turn our clocks back for daylight savings time.

I’ll be greeting the newly early dark tonight by relaxing with Issue 8 of Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine.  I’m going to revisit two poems that I especially like: Scott Thomas Outlar’s “Sucking Vapors” and Erren Geraud Kelly’s “Coffeehouse Poem #43.”

 

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“One link is missing, Prospero, my magic is my own.”

“One link is missing, Prospero,

“My magic is my own;

“Happy Miranda does not know

“The figure that Antonio

“The Only One, Creation’s O,

“Dances for Death alone.”

 

— from Antonio’s refrain, in W. H. Auden’s

“The Sea and the Mirror”

 

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Mantis religiosa.

Known also as the praying mantis.

We’ve got ’em in New York.  But they are both larger and far more numerous in Virginia.

Apparently, the ancient Greeks regarded them as magical creatures who could tell lost travelers the way home.

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Nurse Your Favorite Heresies in Whispers