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The Eerie Midnight Horror Show
1.14.2002 by Ash, every Thursday.

  Can't get enought Ash? You should be reading Pulp!

Hello, and welcome to the first of what will be at least two weekly columns by Tangmonkey.com's resident misanthrope, Ash Carreau. Some of you may know me for my monthly entertainment 'zine, PULP, some from my increasingly belligerent forum posts, and still others from Arkham juvenile hall. But wherever you know me from, you know that the name Ash is synonymous with quality, hilarity, and also pathological dishonesty. The genesis for this article came one fateful, lazy summer's day as I leaned out the window of a friend's attic, shooting at birds with a B.B. gun while listening to Slayer, and realized that there are probably more productive ways to spend my time. Like downloading full-length 'squirt' videos off the internet. But unfortunately, my internet connection is no longer fast enough for that to be a possibility, so here I am filling the lonely late-night hours with a weekly column. Tales From The Crypt, while a stand-alone article, is intended as sort of a companion piece to PULP, a kind of weekly background reading. As some of you may know, I have certain problems with social interaction, in that I don't like it and it really doesn't like me. I'm told I'd have more luck if I stopped making Mexican jokes and wore clothes not made from human skin, but as it stands I don't get out all that much. As a result, I watch a lot of movies, and Tales From The Crypt is intended as a kind of movie diary to let you, the reader, and you, the PULP fan, know what I'm watching, when I'm doing it, and what exactly is wrong with me. If you figure it out, please let me know.

Saturday, September 8
Criminal Hearts
It's amazing the kind of quality films you can find on CTV at four in the morning. And by that I mean that at four in the morning, even Kevin Dillon/Amy Locane road trip movies seem worth watching. Yes, that's KEVIN Dillon, who joins Frank Stallone, Don Swayze, and most of the Baldwins in the ranks of younger brothers no one cares about. At least it's better than watching a Shawn Wayans movie.

Sunday, September 9
Joe Dirt
I know, I know, I thought sitting through this movie would be a horrible idea too, but I was pleasantly surprised when it turned out to only be a bad idea. You see, David Spade can be sort of funny sometimes, provide you forget he's just an squirrelly little pissant mad at the world for giving him Kristy Swanson hair and little girl arms. Plus, this charming celebration of white trash culture also features rap 'n' roller Kid Rock, which would make me happy if only I owned a pair of Adidas running shoes, a gold chain, and an armband tattoo of some sort.

Monday, September 10
La Jetee
This French movie isn't a conventional film, per se, in that it's actually just a succession of still photographs cut to a voice-over narration, kind of like being read a really crappy flipbook by Gerard Depardieu. Thankfully, Terry Gilliam remade this film into 1995's 12 Monkeys, thus rendering one more French film obsolete and sparing future generations of film students from its foreign language horrors. Now if only someone would get started on those Nouvelle Vague movies...

Hapax Legomana I: nostagia
Shockingly, the movie makes even less sense than the title.

Metropolis
An early German expressionist film that deals with the problem of class struggles via a killer robot. It's long been my assertion that all social issues should be dealt with killer robots, not solely in film but in practice as well. I don't think it unreasonable that we use killer robots to eradicate unemployment and health care problems by having them eat welfare recipients and the chronically ill, and it's nice to know that I'm not the only one who turns to fascist comic-book science when the going gets rough.

Tuesday, September 11
I would have watched a movie today, but terrorists crashed a jetliner into my TV. And by saying that, my Tangmonkey editor assures me, what I actually mean is that this was the day the grim specter of hatred, fear, and violence smashed its way through the faceless, disconnected television screen and into all of our hearts and minds. And here I thought I was just being tasteless.

Wednesday, September 12
Arachnophobia
It's movies like this that remind me why I don't go outside. Or open any windows. Or doors. Ever.

Thursday, September 13
The Scarlet Empress
There's nothing much of note in this early Joseph Sternberg film, except that I'm rapidly finding Marlene Dietrich way too Teutonic for my tastes. I don't want to be dismissive of an icon of early cinema, but having a head shaped like a cinder-block with cheekbones is a little off-putting.

Session 9
Charming little digital film best described as Blair Witch in an abandoned mental hospital. Starring NYPD Blue's David Caruso and a mullet shaped like Brendon Sexsmith III, it focuses on a group of fiber-strippers working to renovate the aforementioned hospital when bizarre things start to happen, like strange noises and weird bundles of sticks, and it all goes to hell when Mike kicks the map in the river. Or so I would assume, not having really paid any attention to the last half of the movie. You see, as revolutionary a technology as digital video is, it still kind of looks like low-rent porn, and it's difficult to fully immerse yourself in a world where men with moustaches get as much heterosexual action as Matt Damon.

At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul
The best 1960s Brazilian horror movies I've seen all day. See my review in the September edition of PULP.

Friday, September 14
Best In Show
Now, I'm normally not a big fan of comedies, in that my sense of humour tends to gravitate more towards operation shows on The Learning Channel and CNN disaster reports, but surprisingly enough I found this fairly amusing for a movie not completely devoid of a soul. Unfortunately, the cast has a disproportionately high number of ex-SCTV cast members, which is decidedly not a good thing, since that show was about as funny as a do-it-your-self vasectomy. Nevertheless, if I can get over my revulsion of Eugene Levy long enough to enjoy this film, so can you.

That's it for this week. My busy schedule of watching daytime television and yelling out my window for random people to 'get the hell out of my tomatee patch' precludes me from writing a long weekly article, so expect something of about this length every week. I hope you enjoyed your little foray into the wild and wacky world of Ash, and that you'll come back and visit real soon. Bring food.




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