Tag Archives: Eric Nolan

This movie was possessed by the demon of bad film-making.

I am blogging some of my past movie reviews from Facebook.

*****

Allow me to summarize those portions of “The Exorcist II: The Heretic” that I was able to watch before needing to turn it off:

  • A still-too-young Linda Blair tap-dances braless on stage, with short-shorts that are nearly illegal.
  • Louise Fletcher is a therapist who treats patients with a machine that actually allows people to literally enter the subconscious minds of others. Nevermind that a technology like this could revolutionize the human experience, especially with respect to psychology, art, literature and religion.  It is quietly tucked away in a treatment center for children with autism (where, for some reason, a psychological trauma victim is also being treated).
  • A giant , sentient, demonic locust chases wildebeests across the African veldt. James Earl Jones gets pissed andmagically turns into a leopard.    This was a thing.  This happened in the movie.

WHY did I not just turn it off?!  WHY DID I NOT JUST TURN THE MOVIE OFF?!?!

(Perhaps I was possessed.)

Exorcist II The Heretic (1977)

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Publication Notice: Dagda Publishing Features “A Muted Iris”

I am honored to have my latest poem published by Dagda Publishing!

Enjoy “A Muted Iris.”

http://dagdapublishing.co.uk/2014/10/15/muted-iris-2/

Publication Notice: Microfiction Monday Magazine to feature “Girl’s Best Friend”

I received some great news today from Editor Gayle Towell over at the online Microfiction Monday Magazine — they will be publishing my flash fiction horror story, “Girl’s Best Friend,” on October 20th.

In advance of Halloween, the magazine was seeking horror stories of 100 words or less.  It sounded like a fun challenge, so I gave it a shot.

Microfiction Monday Magazine is a great online publication that specializes in bringing busy readers brief narratives that nevertheless tell a compelling story.

Check it out here:

http://microfictionmondaymagazine.com/

Publication Notice: Dead Snakes features “Girl On A Film Screen”

I’m honored to have another poem, “Girl On A Film Screen,” published over at Dead Snakes.

Dead Snakes remains a terrific place for newer authors to find an audience.  It is quite easy to submit, and Editor Stephen Jarrell Williams always seems to have an encouraging word for contributing writers.

Here is the poem:

http://deadsnakes.blogspot.com/2014/10/eric-robert-nolan-poem.html

America’s Best Small Town.

The following are pictures of Culpeper, Virginia, which I was lucky to see again, even if it was only briefly, on the way to the Blue Ridge Mountains this past Labor Day weekend.  (There was a time I would name Fredericksburg as America’s best small town, of course, but I’m not sure that Fredericksburg meets the definition of a small town any longer — more on that in the future.)

I remember Culpeper fondly indeed.  I found my first job after college here — working as a reporter for the Culpeper Star – Exponent newspaper.  (Third photo.)  I lived right on Main Street, which is pictured in the first two photos.  It wasn’t New York, but it was a warm community of good neighbors that I was lucky to join.

Yes, I did say newsPAPER.  There was time, kids, when news was actually printed in ink on a refined paper product that required hand delivery to your home.  Either that, or you could purchase it from a mechanical metal box on the street corner.

Check out the fourth photo of Mount Pony at the edge of town– this is something my friend pointed out to me.  (I know you can hardly see it — the picture is blurry because taken from a moving car.)

Until nearly the end of the Cold War, this was a 140,00-square-foot, federally operated “continuity of government” facility, housing people underground and designed to keep our government going in the event of a nuclear war. There were dormitories, food supplies and wells, protected from blasts and radiation by steel-reinforced concrete and lead shutters — it even had an indoor pistol-range and a helipad.  There were also just billions of dollars housed there by the Federal Reserve, to jump-start a post-apocalyptic economy.

It was decommissioned in 1992, and was bought in 2007 by the David and Lucile Packard Foundation. It’s now a national film archive operated by the Library of Congress, with more than 6 million pieces of original film and television artifacts.  (Apparently old film stock can be dangerous to store, because it’s extremely flammable?)  It’s open to the public, and has its own theater that screens classic films for free  — it even has an organ that ascends to the screen when the theater shows silent films.  The Library of Congress has a running schedule right here:

http://www.loc.gov/loc/events/#eventlist9

That sounds pretty damn cool.  I’ve been dying to see a bunch of silent films I’ve never seen (particularly “Nosferatu” and “The Phantom of the Opera.”)  I might try to take a trip out there if they screen any such vintage movies around Halloween.  Because seeing classic horror films in an underground facility designed for the end of the world has got to be a unique experience.

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I wanna be your go-to flick-nerd.

If you enjoy my movie or television reviews, follow “ericrnolan” at the Internet Movie Database:

http://www.imdb.com/user/ur52622160/comments

I have mastered the camouflage of the alien “Predator.”

I did.  And I have the photograph to prove it.

Observe.  The first photo is of me at Shenandoah National Park, climbing Stony Man Mountain over Labor Day weekend.  The second and third photos are of 20th Century Fox’s eponymous film monster, bane of alien xenomorphs the galaxy over.  YOU CAN SEE THAT THE TECHNOLOGY IS THE SAME.

Or … similar, maybe.  I am still not sure how the hell I pulled this off.  (It was supposed to be a normal picture taken by one of my old classmates.)  I suspect my camouflage results from the fact that I am so skinny that light can actually travel THROUGH me under certain conditions.  And it is fueled by the power of nerd.

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I took a wrong turn on my way to the Mary Washington College Reunion!

And that’s why I wasn’t there.  I should have been concerned when the alums I did connect with in Virginia kept sipping their beers, concealing their laughter and leading me repeatedly to roads that led consistently UP.

Anyway, if you DO live in Virginia, did you see me waving?  I’m pretty sure I could see roughly 65 percent of the state from where I was standing.

Seriously, though — this was my birthday trip to Stony Man Mountain in Shenandoah National Park.  It was unforgettable.  The beauty of the Commonwealth was the perfect balm for the knowledge that I am one year older.

The Stony Man Trail is actually a pretty easy hike, even though the peak is the second highest along the Blue Ridge Mountains’ Skyline Drive.

To clarify some of the content of the below photos:

1)  In the second picture, the ONLY reason that I look so skinny is that the mountains are big by comparison.  It’s physics.  Yeah.

2)  Note the sign at the park visitor center.  One of my friends was totally jonesing for that woefully absent blackberry ice cream, which apparently is part of the park’s fame.  (He was talking about it on the way up.)  It must be good, if the park actually has to post a sign apologizing for running out.  The next time I see the mountains, I am going to have to get some myself just to see what the fuss is about.

3)  Spot the face in the inside of the tree.  And what is it?  A portion of my friends will call “Ent” immediately; others will name Cthulhu or one of his minions.  The inside of a tree can serve as a thematic apperception test.

4)  We met an extremely friendly mountain man in the wilds who was kind enough to let us stay in his home.  (It was surprisingly stately.)  He even had a copy of my book on his mantle, next to a happy, meditating dog statue.  (I see what you did there, man.)

I loved the trip.  If you visit Virginia, treat yourself.  The hike is easier than you think, and you need to experience this at least once.

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Godspeed to American forces and their Allies abroad.

Thank you for your skill, commitment, courage and service.  The people you protect are grateful, and far safer for your efforts.

Thanks also to the professionals in the American intelligence community.  I am privileged to be good friends with a couple of them.  (I was a reporter in Virginia for years.)  Forget what Hollywood tells us — they want nothing more than to protect their country from harm, and are among the kindest and most idealistic people I know.  And, believe me, even if they can’t say much about it, right now they are working their asses off.

E PLURIBUS UNUM.

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Blogging my only review of a “Doctor Who” episode. Because I’m a masochist.

And I enjoy the sheer antipathy that is inevitably inspired by any criticism of this show (or, God forbid, actor David Tennant).

No, seriously — I actually really liked the horrorish episode, “Blink,” with the weeping angels.  I’m running this for my old friend David Bozic, who, it turns out, is another devoted “Whovian.”

Here’s the review I did on Facebook maybe two years ago:

*****

Doctor Who generally isn’t my thing.  But I have friends who are really diehard … “Whovians?”  Is that what they call themselves? And Alex Tirado-Snyder finally talked me into watching a particularly good episode – Season 3’s “Blink.”

I wasn’t disappointed.  This is actually a great little horror story, and you can enjoy it even if you’re unacquainted with the bizarre (and poorly delineated, in my opinion) rules for this unique sci-fi universe.  It honestly reminds me of something that Stephen King might have written, albeit for a general tv audience.  I was genuinely creeped out by the story’s adversaries, which I won’t describe because of spoilers.  The repeated line of “Don’t blink!” along with the episode’s closing shots, were nice and frightening.

It’s also a damned cool time-travel story – if you’re patient and pay attention, you’ll see that it works.  Carey Mulligan is a really good actress in a lead guest role, and parts of the story (featuring characters displaced in time) are pretty poignant.  I’m not sure this episode really merits its Hugo Award, but it was still a good watch.  I’d recommend it.  Thanks, Alex.

It’s easy to see why this widely venerated show has such a devoted fanbase.  It’s fun and quirky and smart.  Still, I can’t say that this franchise is quite my thing.  I feel the same why about this as I do about Joss Whedon’s work.  I know it’s well made, but it’s too high-camp for me.  Also … I can’t explain this, but David Tennant just gets on my nerves.  I remember being turned off by him in his role in 2011’s “Fright Night” remake.  I don’t know why … is he too chipper?  Too manic?  Is there an androgynous quality about him that I find unsettling?  There’s something about him that suggests an overeager British schoolboy that won’t shut up and just won’t leave you alone.  Whatever.  I’m sure the problem is me.  He’s a very good actor, and of course he’s well suited for this role.

Postscript: I had a lot of fun with this story because it brought back something from my childhood.  In the long ago pre-internet days when I was 11 years old, the kids on the street would huddle under Jason Huhn’s porch on summer nights and tell ghost stories.  I made up a monster a little like the one in this story, and it scared my best friend Shawn because I portrayed him as the victim.  He tried to make me stop telling the story, but the other kids insisted I continue.  He got pretty agitated.  So I was kind of a jerk when I was a kid, too, sort of.

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