Tag Archives: Eric Robert Nolan

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(Drama stinks.)

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I came a bit too close for comfort just now with the skunk who lives around my street, Leonardo da Stinki.  I can usually saunter right by animals without them even noticing me, which I suppose is sort of a weird trait, or maybe a really boring X-Men mutant power.  Leonardo and I both sort of stumbled upon one another, halted abruptly, and made some awkward eye contact.  (It’s like running into your ex at Costco.) 

He thankfully ambled off, after I oafishly backpedaled.  (I can do oafish really well and with precisely zero effort; that’s another one of my superpowers.)  I’d like to think we had a tacit exchange: 

“I don’t want any drama tonight, do you?” 

“Nah.”

So there was no odoriferous outcome, and I’m grateful for that.  Leonardo has gotten quite big now that he is an adult, and I’m sure his own special abilities have correspondingly magnified.  (Why is there no skunk-themed member of The X-Men, anyway?  That feels like a creative oversight.)

I really want to snap a picture of him, because my aspirations in life make sense only to me, and he was crossing a well lit yard during his exit.  But this is The South, and I’m not sure how the average Roanoker might react if they discovered a weird, New York liberal taking pictures their property at night.  I have a feeling that’s a story that doesn’t end well.

 

 

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By Twitter, CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77807699

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“Watermelon Haiku,” by Eric Robert Nolan

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This slimming man slups

another watermelon

dinner in earnest.

 

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So I’m introducing a dear friend tonight to “28 Days Later.”

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So I’m introducing a dear friend tonight to “28 Days Later” (2002).  It is possibly my favorite horror film of all time, maybe even narrowly beating out “Aliens” (1986), “Alien 3” (1992), John Carpenter’s “The Thing” (1982), the Sutherland-tacular 1978 version of “Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” and George A. Romero’s first three “Dead” films (1968, 1978, 1985).  (Whenever “Star Wars” fans refer to their “Holy Trilogy,” I muse inwardly that those last three are its equivalent for zombie horror fans.)

My friend thinks it’s funny that I refer to “28 Days Later” as “my sacred cow.”  I’ll be crestfallen if she does not like it, and I told her as much.  And that’s weird for me … I usually don’t feel let down when someone doesn’t enjoy the same books, movies or music that I do.  Not everything is for everyone.  Art would lose its mystique if it weren’t subjective.  If all art appealed to all people, it would lose all its appeal altogether.

Part of me feels, unconsciously perhaps, that “28 Days Later” is the kind of film that “redeems” the horror genre (even though no genre needs such redemption — if art is well made or if it affects people, then it’s just fine).

Most comic book fans of my generation can tell you how people can occasionally roll their eyes at their favorite medium.  (Comics have far greater mainstream acceptance today than when I started reading them in the 1990’s.)   For horror fans, it’s sometimes worse.  Horror is a genre that is easily pathologized — and sometimes with good reason, because a portion of what it produces is indeed cheap or exploitative.  I wish I could accurately describe for you the looks I’ve gotten when acquaintances find out that I’m a horror fan.  They aren’t charitable.

“28 Days Later” and movies like it are so good that they elevate horror to a level that demands respect from the uninitiated.  It is an intrinsically excellent film — it just happens to have a sci-f-/horror plot setup and setting.  It’s beautifully directed by Danny Boyle, it’s perfectly scored and it’s masterfully performed by its cast — most notably by Cillian Murphy and Brendan Gleeson.

Moo.

 

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Throwback Thursday: “Day of the Triffids” (1962)!

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I remember getting excited about seeing “Day of the Triffids” (1962) for the first time.  It was the early 2000’s, and the advent of DVD-by-mail services enabled me to hunt down all the various apocalyptic sci-fi movies I’d heard about as a kid — including a few that I’d only seen portions of, because I’d tuned in late.  (The local video stores I’d grown up with had some of these films, but not all — and my interest in the sub-genre was truly exhaustive.)

“Day of the Triffids” was mildly disappointing.  It was positively lethargic for an end-of-the-world monster tale, even if those monsters were slow-moving plants.  (It’s a good bet that John Wyndham’s 1951 source novel did a better job with the story concept.)

I ordered this DVD through Blockbuster Video.  Here’s a little movie industry trivia for you — Blockbuster briefly had a DVD-by-mail offer that was better than the one pioneered by Netflix.  (You actually got more movies out of it, and you got them quicker.)  But this was around the end of the prior decade; Netflix had already won the war for the home movie market, while Blockbuster was suffering its first location-closing death rattles.  And the DVD-by-mail business model was itself becoming largely obsolete, anyway — the twin threats of Redbox kiosks and online movies saw to that.

 

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“Doctor Sleep” (2019) was ABSOLUTELY ****ING FABULOUS.

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“Doctor Sleep” (2019) was ABSOLUTELY ****ING FABULOUS. I had high hopes for this movie after seeing the trailer — yet it exceeded my expectations. I’d easily rate this a 10 out of 10.

This is a story-driven horror film just brimming with blackly creative ideas and weird world-building — I haven’t read Stephen King’s source material, but I feel certain this was a loving adaptation of the 2013 novel. It is also genuinely touching at times. (I was trying to explain to a dear friend recently about how King’s work can surprise the uninitiated — the monsters and devils typically occupy only a portion of his imaginary landscapes. The remainder is inhabited by good people who are bravely doing the right thing.)

All of the movie’s story elements are painted vibrantly by Mike Flanagan’s beautiful screenwriting and nightmarishly trippy directing. The film’s action and often incongruously bright visuals are reminiscent of Stanley Kubrick’s visions in “The Shining” (1980), to which this film is truly a worthy successor. (Flanagan was the director and screenwriter for last year’s fantastic “The Haunting of Hill House.” The qualities that you loved about the Netflix show can also be found in “Doctor Sleep” — in some ways, they are very similar stories.)

Rebecca Ferguson is mesmerizing as the story’s antagonist, Kyliegh Curran is pitch perfect as the young anti-hero, and Ewan McGregor is predictably terrific.

The only quibbles I had were minor — there was one plot device (presumably from the novel) that didn’t translate well to the screen. It concerns how the bad guys replenish themselves … I’ll bet it worked well in King’s prose, but it seemed corny and cliche when visualized on film.

You could also argue that “Doctor Sleep’s” constant references to “The Shining” were pretty heavy-handed. But that didn’t bother me too much … I arrived at the conclusion that “The Shining” and “Doctor Sleep” were really two halves of an epic supernatural road trip. Your mileage may vary.

One final caveat — this film does portray violence against children. It isn’t extremely graphic, but it’s still especially disturbing. (It technically isn’t gratuitous, I suppose, because there is an in-universe reason why Ferguson’s tribe of villains targets the young.)

This is easily the best horror film that I’ve seen in years. Go see it.

 

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LEAF BRITNEY ALONE.

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Dudes, this might be the biggest leaf I’ve ever seen.  That is indeed my foot next to it.  And I don’t have small feet; I wear a size 11 and 1/2.  (Now, now … this is a family blog, people.)

I found these tarp-sized leaves in the exact same place where I encountered that giant spider — the one the size of a housecat.  This makes me think there’s some sort of “Food of the Gods” -type sci-fi shenanigans going on in the vicinity.

Will investigate and report back.

 

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The melon-choly days are come.

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Well, hot damn.  Not all healthy food is stultifyingly gross to eat.  I can’t remember the last time I ate watermelon — maybe in college?  I’m pretty sure that watermelon-flavored Jolly Ranchers don’t count.

But this is a miracle food.  I didn’t have to add any salt or sugar ore even fry it in order for it to taste delicious.  Why didn’t people advise me to eat this to start with?

Tomorrow — tofu.  Or maybe not.  I bought a tray of that #$%*, but it’s been sitting in my fridge for a while now, because I’m too afraid to open it.  I swear to you … the loose, cool weight of it in that little plastic dish feels precisely how I would expect a slice of prepackaged cadaver to feel in my hands.  I might leave it out for the turkey vultures.  (Note to New Yorkers — the South indeed has these truly enormous birds called “turkey vultures” or “turkey buzzards.”  You kinda have to see it to believe it.)  I’ll update you guys.

 

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Throwback Thursday: “The Birds” (1963)!

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“The Birds” (1963) was yet another film that I grew up with; it got plenty of air time in the 1980’s, and it was such a gem that my Uncle John had it in is movie library too.

As far as I am aware … this is the only time Alfred Hitchcock delved into science fiction -horror.  (Somebody please correct me on that if I am wrong.)  I only learned just now that it was based on a 1952 novel by Daphne du Maurier.  (I thought the name sounded familiar upon reading it, and also learned that she wrote the eponymous source material for Hitchcock’s “Rebecca” in 1940.)

The trailer below is kind of interesting — it features Hitchcock himself hamming it up, with almost no footage from the film.  I don’t think it would make it past a modern marketing department — it’s more than five minutes long, and it takes a bit too much time getting to its point.

 

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Throwback Thursday: “C.H.U.D.” (1984)!

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Happy Halloween!  “C.H.U.D.” (1984) was another science fiction-horror movie that I and the kids on my street really enjoyed back in the day — it was a bit of a legend in my peer group, and it actually scared me a little.  The monsters were a lot of fun.  They were gross and ferocious, and they popped snarling out of the shadows of the New York City sewer system, and that’s the sort of thing that holds a middle school boy’s attention.

The movie boasts a young John Heard and Daniel Stern among its leads, and none other than a pre-fame John Goodman in a minor role as a cop.  (It was only his fourth film role.)

I’d love to hunt this flick down and revisit it.  I have no idea how well it’s held up since the 80’s, but I can’t say I’m hopeful — its audience score over at Rotten Tomatoes is just 32%.

Ah well.

 

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I try weird $+&# so that you don’t have to.

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This is “veggie bacon.”  Its ingredients are soy and disappointment.

The package portrayed it as “delicious,” which is precisely the kind of dangerous, calculated lie I’d expect from a jailed serial killer or Craigslist personal ads or the White House Press Secretary.

Alright, maybe I’m being too harsh.  This isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.  It tastes better than it smells, so there’s that.  (When I was frying it and noting its failure to sizzle, I recoiled from what I can only describe as a vague, radioactive-carrot odor.)

It just doesn’t taste like bacon.  It maybe tastes like processed pork rinds.  Seriously.  They ought to call it “veggie pork rinds.”

 

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