- Casino Royale Review
- Carrie (1976)
- Two-Lane Blacktop (1971)
- Trainspotting (1996)
- Rain Man (1988)
- Fatal Attraction (1987)
- Targets (1968)
- An Education (2009)
- Mirror, The (1974)
- Fargo (1996)
- Fight Club (1999)
- Do The Right Thing (1989)
- Report (1967)
- Is "The Sting" The Best Gambling Film Ever Made?
- Pink Flamingos (1972)
- Ox-Bow Incident, The (1943), Or 28 Angry Men
- Rome, Open City (1945)
- Spring in a Small Town (1948)
- Drive (2011)
- Vinyl (1965)
- Seconds (1966)
- Rosemary's Baby (1968)
- A Hollywood Invasion of Casino Halls
- Thin Man, The (1934)
- In The Heat of the Night (1967)
- All In: The Poker Movie, Player’s Best Tricks
- Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)
- 1001 Club - Skyfall (2012)
- 1001 Club - When Harry Met Sally... (1988)
- 1001 Club - Rain Man (1988)
Mourning a Bad Horror Weekend (March 2007)
Fulci fans will most likely recognize City of The Living Dead (1980) as one of his average to decent achievements. It's not a bad movie. It's full of frightning and even amazingly intricate gore, yet as with most films of its genre (and yes, as with most Fulci films), City of The Living Dead is flawed in its acting, its pacing and the cliches it not only supports, but most likely helped to champion.
Still, I will continue to watch Fulci films because as any Zombie Horror Gore fan knows, acting is not what these Horror films are about. That's not where the problem lies.
The two real problems I had with City Of The Living Dead were the following: First and most deplorable is the outright theft of the music of Goblin, as written for the most classic of Zombie films, Dawn Of The Dead (1978). Fulci's version of the score changed one note here and there, just enough not get sued, maybe. What a dick.
The second problem is in the film's premise: 'The Gates Of Hell will open on All Saints Day.' It sounds solid enough, seems like it's got some spiritual weight behind it, certainly enough to cause trouble, and for a while I even accepted it, until halfway through the movie I remembered what All Saints Day was. Pardon me for not knowing the cultural nuance of Italy in this regard and correct me if I'm wrong but why wouldn't a director of Horror play up the fact that the day before All Saints Day IS HALLOWEEN? As if. Not one costume, one Jack-O-Lantern, or one measly mention or decoration, but I guess luckily, not one Michael Meyers rip-off, either.
That being said, if one were to compile this 93 minute film into a 50 minute short, it would be much better, full of gore, action and suspense and would earn much more of my praise and respect, because I'm a forgiving sort, and gore is great.
To revisit the opening sentence to this post... Fulci is most likely not someone many people would recognize, and now you may understand part of the reason why.
GF of Squish's worst fear was indeed realized "One of the worst movies I've seen in my life"
On the other hand Joe Dante is a director who has earned his place in all sorts of Hollywood film venues. The TBS Saturday-afternoon family weekend zone most definitely embraces such titles as Small Soldiers (1998), Innerspace (1987), Explorers (1985) and both Gremlins movies (1984 and 1990). Joe Dante even directed the bloody Horror classic Piranha (1978). I'd say that's proven enough in my books to warrant watching his werewolf horror film, The Howling (1981), starring Dee Wallace of Cujo and E.T. fame. The problems with this film would make far too long a list, but allow me to drive it home as clearly as possible:
When you are more interested in the two-second shot of bared breasts than in the werewolf horror bits, you've got a problem... well at least I'VE got a problem. When a film gloriously sets up a dark world in a filthy urban wasteland like a contemporarilly bleak cesspool like New York City, don't up and move your people to a very un-Se7en wilderness of rednecks. Also, have some action, and heck while you're at it, make that action interesting. How someone getting torn open made me yawn, I'll never know. The Howling's only worthy moment was in the obviously painful and meticulous transformation from man to beast (yet so slow that any victim witnessing it could walk out the door and hail a cab before the werewolf completely turned).
My guests and I did not laugh at this movie. Instead, every five minutes, someone would ask why we were watching this garbage. My only answer was "Tromeo and Juliette didn't come in the mail yet, and it cost me a dollar at a garage sale."
On top of everything else, there's SIX sequels including such lame titles as Werewolf Bitches or The Marsupials. What the jumping Jesus Hell is that!?