Crown Jewel

Hi, gang.


It's been stressful times, as of late. I'm not speaking solely of the moving process; in fact given the potential for stress and heartache in a huge move like that, I think it went amazingly smooth. No, I mean more in the last 8 months or so. Basically, since the time I stopped having a place of my own. It wasn't solely the living situation, though, and I mean in no way to impugn my wonderful housemates. I mean more the external, coincidental factors coupled with being a married couple cast adrift while we weathered the seas of uncertainty.


Times got to be overwhelming.


The little things, the simple pleasures got to be reassurances. I liked being able to cook a meal. I'm no foodie, but I am a growing sous-chef to my better half, who has become a talented chef on her own. Most of our free time was spent preparing meals and dissecting what made things good. She reads cookbooks like literature. I try to keep up, but mostly my skills have favored pouring wine and doing dishes. One little bonus we had lost was the ability to watch copious DVR'd shows from the Food Network and the Cooking Channel. Honestly I think it was about the only TV my better half would watch, save the occasional Simpsons or Daily Show. So being without a kitchen staple, missing the lovely white noise of those specific shows, took a toll.


There was a life raft, though.


While we had no cable to speak of, we had access to the local PBS-esque affiliates. Turns out, on a regular basis they show cooking and food related programming. The best of the best? Our cream of the crop? Old episodes of Julia & Jacques Cooking At Home. It's a bit dated, being filmed and broadcast in 1999, but it is all kinds of awesome. So while we go about our business, getting settled in our new home, we make sure we tune in whenever possible.

In short, it's a classic cooking program and Julia Child is every bit as legendary as you'd expect. She was 86 when they filmed these! That she would have the gumption to still shoot these instructional shows, with the energetic yet patient Jacques Pepin, is nothing short of incredible. One cannot help but admire her spirit and passion, even past the point most others would have simply retired and coasted. No, Julia Child is amazing. She's totally the embodiment of all the parodies and jokes and SNL skits. She's so sincere and genuine that you can't help but find her endearing. Whether or not my palate can handle the amount of cream and white wine in her recipes, the shows are still a sight to behold. There's nothing quite as astounding as seeing a woman as old as your grandmother grab a gargantuan meat cleaver and hack a gigantic fish in two, without skipping a beat. Nothing broke her composure. She was super fun. Plus, I'm learning just from watching.

The stress will alleviate over time, certainly as we get more boxes unpacked and more things put away. In the meantime, we can cook with the limited means we have available and tune in to these hidden gems from a generation ago. If this is suburban living, I'll take it. Even if it means doing more dishes until our furniture is delivered.

More Untraditional

So yesterday I extolled the virtues of the Futurama episode Xmas Story. Huge fan, I'm all about it. It was a game changer, for sure. The only thing better was the follow up, released a year later. Titled 'A Tale of Two Santas', this episode was even crazier and more over the top than the last. You want to celebrate Xmas? Go over the top with this under the radar episode.

The last Futurama episode had introduced us to the seasons greetings
in the year 3000. This episode sees the cast and crew digging in for their most cathartic and destructive iteration yet. Why observe the holiday in solemn silence when you can see the withered remains of Neptune or the legally mandated execution of a robot in the name of Xmas?

Here's the gist: the Planet Express crew is tasked with delivering letters to Santa, no matter how evil he may be. When the Robot Santa becomes trapped in an ice block, Bender takes on the mantle to become Santa for a night, enduring all forms of torture and mistrust in the process. You come bearing Tri-Ominoes? Good luck escaping unscathed. When he's brought before a jury, everyone in the Planet Express crew has to step up and prove his innocence.

This episode ups the insanity from the previous years Xmas installment in the best way possible. It's bigger. It's badder. The world is more established. The Neptunians are a grim, sobering bunch. Santas workshop is a horrible relentless place. There are more explosions and gunfire. More violence and jokes. Basically the cast and crew figured out there voice and hit it at full stride for this Xmas episode. Plus, a lovely holiday tune that starts with the line "We are free and fairly sober." Super fun stuff.

When people talk about the 'golden period' of Futurama, like they do with the Simpsons, this is an episode that stands out. Just ask Santa's friend Jesus. It's insanity at the best level. Keep reading. We're gonna hit dirt in a couple days...

Untraditional-er

Well alright, then.


Yesterday's Xmas Xception was on some crazy, ultra-violent stuff, the completely out-there Last Christmas. It's an insane comic that warps the sense of the holiday. Let's continue down that weird tangent, only dialing down the bloodshed. Let's take a look at another of my favorite animated installments, Xmas Story from Futurama.

The best thing about this episode, besides Robot Santa, is that it doesn't even start off as a Christmas episode. Instead, it's set at a ski resort. You have the usual sight gags involving the sport, as well as everyone in ridiculous outfits and a surprise appearance by the head of Conan O'Brien doing a stand up gig at the Catskills. Things begin to switch gears, though, when Fry gets a hankering for Christmases from his past, like the eggnog his dad would make (bourbon and ice) or cutting down a (now extinct) pine tree. Of course, this being a thousand years in the future, no one has any idea what Fry is talking about. They figure he's using an archaic pronunciation of their holiday, Xmas. "You know? X-M-A-S!" The crew of Planet express batten down the hatches for the holiday, as is tradition. This is where things go from good to great. 

The biggest contribution to the holiday season Futurama has made is that of Robot Santa. Made by Mom's Friendly Robot Factory to make the yuletide season more efficient, a programming error put everyone on the naughty list. As a result, the homicidal robot spends every Xmas killing everyone in sight with festive weapons and some robotic reindeer. John Goodman's voice acting is deliciously evil and the imagery of Santa launching rockets on Christmas is too awesome to deny. So while Fry is out looking for a scorned Leela (having inadvertently insulted her and then bought an obnoxious parrot as apology) they both end up dodging missiles and machine gun fire. 

This episode (along with the dynamic follow up) are required viewing in my household every Xmas season. Murderous robots. Bender skiing in a ridiculous hat. Zoidberg on a pogo-stick. Amy and Hermes doing a groan-inducing 'Gift of the Magi' bit. The head of Conan O'Brien. There's just too much awesome on display here. Track it down and see what you've been missing.

Terrace Tale

Well, hello there!


I'm rolling right through the season, having just returned from an early Christmas with my parents and siblings. Had a fantastic time and worked on a special follow up to a post I did earlier this year. But that's for a later date! Instead of that mysterious thing, I want to tell you about an underrated, overlooked Xmas episode from the Simpsons, Miracle On Evergreen Terrace.

Broadcast back in 1997, this episode from season nine is the kind of episode that hits the sweet spot for me. It's not too cloying, not to irreverent and dismissive. It falls right into the pocket of an episode wherein Xmas is a part of the plot, but not the center of the story, followed by a forced special moment. So let's break it down, eh?

Christmas Eve is ending and Bart devises an ingenious way to beat the system - when Marge confiscates all alarm clocks in the house, thereby nixing any chance of waking up and opening presents early, he chugs water like a dying man. His subsequent dream sequence is hilarious and dead on for those horrible nights where you wake up and stumble to the bathroom, by the way. So Bart is the first to rise and opens a present. When this radio controlled toy goes off the rails and causes a small fire, the tree and all the presents melt. Panicking, Bart quickly disposes of the evidence and tells the family they were robbed. Heartbroken and crestfallen, the family doesn't know what to do. Homer hits the guilty, sneaking subconscious urge on the head: "Can *sob* we *sniff* skip *sob* church?" We've all been there.

So Kent Brockman does a feel-good human interest piece on the family and the town opens their hearts and wallets. The Simpson clan make off like bandits. Bart's ball of lies, however, begins to crumble, and when the family finds out what happens, they struggle to maintain the facade. From there on out it's your classic series of misadventures and half-heart conceits, but it's pretty damn funny. It all leads to the townspeople stealing everything in the Simpson family home. Heartwarming stuff.

I love this episode - it's been a staple of my holiday viewing, both for the general plot and the fact that it doesn't play out like your typical Christmas episode. It's out in several forms, including a Christmas collection, single disc release and on iTunes, as well as less reputable places online. Just sayin'. Take a look and see if you get the same strangely fresh take on Christmas that I did from this old and forgotten gem. Xmas is coming, kids.

Controlled Chaos

Well, hello there!


Just gonna pop in a drop a quick post for the day's Xmas Xception. Had an insane week at the office, the kind wherein you find yourself looking forward to a break, not only to stop the madness but to allow the steam to vent. I feel as though there are jets of vapor shooting out of my ears from sheer over exertion. Bad enough it's a crazy week, but then adding the holidays to the mix makes it even crazier. You can't just come home and relax - you've got to finish wrapping presents and start gearing up for holiday travels. No rest for the wicked! 


So how do we unwind? The best way. Community. Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas.

Community is that rare breed of TV show that trusts the audience. They know that if they supply quality writing, a stellar cast and a passionate production team you can hold a steady, devoted audience despite the efforts of a desperate network. They'll shuffle the show all around in the hopes of pulling in blockbuster ratings, but Arrested Development never got huge ratings and it's become the modern hallmark of 'Cancelled Too Soon' despite having ran for three full seasons. So appreciate Community while it lasts! This week had us seeing an encore viewing of last year's Christmas special, Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas.

I adore this particular episode, even within the canon of this amazing show. In it, pop-culture junkie and TV addict Abed loses his grip on reality as the stress of the season gets to him. He beings seeing the world in the manner of the old claymation/RankinBass holiday special. It. Is. Awesome. The study group embraces his madness, if only to gain perspective on how to talk him down from his delusions. John Oliver makes another fantastic appearance as a smarmy, smug wizard. Characters are transformed into holiday archetypes -Pierce a teddy bear, Jeff a Jeff in the box, Annie into a Ballerannie and Troy a toy soldier. Abed's detailed, unhinged world is beautifully sculpted and lovingly made, at once aping the style tongue in cheek and becoming downright poignant by the finale. Plus there's a fantastic dig at Lost's inability to stick the landing that still makes me laugh.

This is one of, if not the best, Christmas special in recent years. It's actually quite sincere despite the pervasive snark. Dan Harmon's little show that could cemented itself as a legitimate force of the medium with this episode, showing there's really nothing they couldn't do when they set out for it. It's available on Hulu for the time being. Do yourself a favor and indulge in some smart, engaging TV for a change this weekend. You deserve a holiday treat.

Drop Off

Thus ends the weekend.

Much better this time around. I actually got to sleep in. Another round of requisite errands and cleaning on a grey Sunday in Minnesota, one of those days where the horizon disappears. The ground is grey, and the overcast sky fades seamlessly in, making one indistinguishable world. It was a day of checking things off lists and a steady slow stream of conversation with my better half. I'm not gonna lie - there was some Xmas music in there. Not all of it, though. There was a buzzing, quiet drone that almost lulled me to sleep this afternoon. I kind of wish I had indulged in the nap that beckoned as I listened to 'Teardrop' by Massive Attack.

Yes, yes - I'm sure you're well familiar with the song due its use as the opening credits accompaniment on the medical series House. You know what, though? Forget all that. Not to knock the show (I've only ever caught a few episodes and can't confidently make a comprehensive judgement) but I don't like that this amazing, haunting song has been co-opted by a procedural. It's so much more amazing than that. But I guess that's what got it selected for use in the show, so what can I complain about, right? It's gorgeous and evocative of mourning and loss, despite its beautiful nature. The stark arrangement, the heavy thud of the piano, the steady click of the drums. There is so much coming together in just the right way with this song, forming a strong whole than the sum of its parts.

 I don't mean to be disparaging of the commercial use of 'Teardrop'. I'll be the first to state how much songs used in massively popular TV shows and movies make an impact. I guess it has more to do with the gentle and personal nature of this track that makes me react in that way. I shouldn't have to defend this song from the commercial sector. Haven't I written voluminous screeds about effective use of music in soundtracks and how they create meaningful moments? I can let this slide, I suppose. Just hearing the song today as I was winding down brought up the conflicting feeling of wanting to remind the world of its beauty but realizing it's been so co-opted that people would just assume "oh, that song from House?". Not the worst thing in the world, but try to separate the two. Listen to 'Teardrop' as a stand alone entity. Hear it for how serene and somber it is. It's haunting.

Down And Out

...and just like that, I don't live in Uptown anymore.

The big move happened over the course of the last two days. It was a suspiciously smooth process, thanks in no small part to extensive pre-planning and several extremely helpful friends. I find myself typing this on a laptop in bed, my back full of knots and my mind completely shot. We're sort of settled but there are still a multitude of packages to be sorted and put away. As soon as I'm done with this post I'm shutting off the laptop and turning on Netflix. To shut my mind down, I'm going to indulge in the underrated, defunct series Party Down.

Originally broadcast on Starz back in 2009 and 2010, Party Down starred Adam Scott, Ken Marino and Lizzy Caplan as under-achieving caterers in Hollywood. It was a show that, while never killing the competition in the ratings, has garnered a devoted audience that followed along into the second and final season. The show, featuring a who's who of character and comedy actors, followed wash-up actor Henry, played by Scott, as he sorted his life out while slumming it in the catering business run by and old drinking buddy. He hits it off with a coworker and romantic entanglements ensue. His lack of motivation, along with his constant "Don't I know you?" troubles, make for an engaging and human series that was just strange and funny and fresh. It was a bona fide creative TV series amid a sea of banality. 

There are tons of reasons to watch this show. Scott is perfectly suited to play the surly, adorable Henry as he sorts out his life. Marino is an almost too-painful-to-watch natural as the perpetual sad sack boss of the Party Down catering crew. Lizzy Caplan, channeling the misery of Hollywood in her Casey character, is believable and well written. The rest of the cast is just as strong, with Martin Star, Jane Lynch and Megan Mullaly all bolstering the little series that could. Alumni from The State all make appearances, as do a cavalcade of wonderful headscratchers like Steve Guttenberg, J. K. Simmons, Kristen Bell and Ken Jeong. The writing is natural and flows freely, having an improvised air while being meticulously scripted. The plots and events are hysterical and rarely if ever contrived for a TV comedy. Also, who can't relate to taking a job when you need to, instead of when you want to? The underdog nature of the show is totally relatable and a genius creative choice.

It bums me out that this amazing, quality show got the ax after only two seasons, but then again I feel glad just to know it made it this far. 20 episodes is quite the run for a show this smart and funny. Usually we get stuck with dreck that lasts forever and barely a season of anything smart. Party Down shown bright and briefly. Take a look online or on DVD to see what you missed. I'm putting on an episode and tuning out as soon as I can.

Baby Boy

My relentless coverage of covers continues.

I've written about American Idol winner David Cook before. In short, he's the only contestant for whom I've ever had any concern. He was a fresh and welcomed change from the established bleating young starlets and barely-pubescent baby faces singing tired and retread covers. Here, instead, was a young man who had already had a relatively successful career with his own band and then on his own before finding his way onto Season Seven of the former TV juggernaut. His rise to the winners circle was fun and strange, an artist out of place in a stagnant TV competition. His versions of songs justified watching the show, I told my better half. Nah, turns out I just liked him and his music. His versions of songs were crazy good for the circumstances.

Cook had done some impressive work with the material he was handed on the show. He gave passionate performances that showcased not only his talent as a performer and musician (this being the first time contestants were allowed to play instruments) but also his ingenuity as an interpreter. His rearrangements of songs were just as entertaining as when he performed. When he introduced his cover of Mariah Carey's seminal pop hit 'Always Be My Baby', my better half and I exchanged worried looks - how was that going to work, exactly? As soon as they showed a clip of him casually strumming the tune in front of Carey (a sadly forgotten talent that has been swept under the rug too early, it should be noted) we both 'ooh-ed' in understanding. The dude had done it - he took a famous, famously female song and re-contextualized it to make sense from a male perspective. It was awesome.

Cook's performance was a stunner and a clear indicator of his front runner status. The way he strutted around the stage belting out his newly arranged ballad, there was no question he was in the lead. What had been a light and fluffy pop song (a fantastic bubblegum piece of music) had been transformed into an amazing and powerful ballad, a declaration of love. Sounds sappy, I know. Still, when he was done we were both agog. It was a game changing performance from Cook. He wasn't just a pop musician on a TV showcase. He'd made it clear that he had a wealth of talent from which to work. When coupled with an intuitiveness and insightful sense of musical savvy, it was no wonder he shot to the top the way he did.

Sure, maybe it's a little unusual for a guy to be championing a winner from a past season of American Idol. You know what? I don't care. I have listened to this song recently, simply on its musical merits and catchy sound, let alone the fact that I was looking for a solid and overlooked cover to write about. Listen to Carey's original version, followed by the cover by Cook. The way they compliment each other shows how the two are derived so much from the artist perspective and intention and not just the gender. Cool stuff.

Where We've Been

Evening, gang.


If you're reading this, it's most likely Halloween where you are. I dig. I hope you're having as mega of a day as I am. I spent the previous day recapping the Saturday night hijinks, packing some boxes while watching spooky movies and opening a bottle of Cabernet to enjoy another Treehouse of Horror. Not bad, I have to say. My apartment has no kids, so no trick or treaters for me, to my dismay. I would have fun passing out candy. I would have fun with wine until I pass out, too, but that's not really a Halloween thing. I digress. This year I was a bull, my better half was a matador. Here's me:

Nice, right? Best of all - pretty darn cheap. Total cost? Five bones for the horns. All else was mine. Okay the leg warmers on my arms as hooves were courtesy of my better half. 


So I've written up and down about Spooky Month. I loved it. It gave me a chance to indulge in my spooky side and share some awesome Halloweenish things with the wider world. There are, however, some things that slipped through the cracks. These are the posts I wrote prior to Spooky Month that would have been totally appropriate to cut and paste if I had been short on time and creativity. In no particular order, you should check out:


The Thing and I - a genuinely creepy Treehouse of Horror installment, all set at night in a storm.
Silent Hill 2 - the most terrifying game I've ever played. An emotional trip, to say the least. HD collections for PS3 and 360 due out in January.
Cloverfield - A modern Gojira, my favorite monster movie. It's a crazy post-modern take on terrorist events.
Zombies Ate My Neighbors - An underrated gem for the SNes. A love letter to B Movie madness.
Crimson - Beautifully dark album from the Alkaline Trio. Lush and pulsing punk music to set the mood.
MST3K - The best way to enjoy old B Movies. Snark galore. Laughs abound. Legendary.
Old Boy - Not a horror movie, per se. Still a dark, twisted trip to the most tormented depths of humanity. Yeah.
Silent Hill - My love for a flawed, but well-intentioned cinematic adaptation of the video game series.
You Were Always On My Mind - Getting severely caught off guard by a creepy soundtrack.
Grabbed by the Ghoulies - A forgotten gem from Rare. Super fun and full of simple frights!
Maniac Mansion - One of the first great haunted house games. Packed with point-and-click antics.
House of Leaves - Watch a book eat itself like a snake swallowing its own tail.
World War Z - The definitive record of humanity's war on zombie-kind. A sprawling, epic tome.
I Hear You Calling - A great video by the band Gob with homages to Thriller.

So that about sums it up. It's been a month of scares and jumps, noises in the vents and things lurking around the corner. Hit up the Spooky label on the side bar for more goodness. Otherwise, come November 1st it's back to business as usual here. I've had a blast this past month. Hopefully you have too. I'll try to do more large scale themes in the future. Christmas Conundrum, perhaps?

Treehousing Crisis

Spooky Friday nights!


As I wrote in the piece about South Park and my Halloween indulgences, a yearly viewing of The Simpsons collected Treehouse of Horrors is a tradition in my household. About halfway through October my better half and I will exchange a look and simply say "Treehouse?" Thus begins the marathon of the only spooky stuff she will endure with me, and that's really only because it stems from the Gospel of The Simpsons. It is the ultimate signifier of the season for me. Treehouse of Horror marathon? Halloween is close. Only a matter of days until I end up watching Night of the Living Dead after coming home from a completely overwhelming party.

We both grew up on The Simpsons, watching it evolve from the embryonic phenomenon it was to the cultural institution it is today. One of the first times we ever hung out together, we bonded over a shared love and appreciation of the early seasons - me, being amazed by a girl who got and loved all the jokes, her, a girl way too cool for me and wiling to suffer my boyish enthusiasm. Our shared viewing habits became a bonding thing for the distance we had as a long distance couple. We'd start a DVD at the same time and watch an episode together on the phone, then say good night knowing we were partaking in the same animated lullabies. 

The Treehouse of Horror series were always a special thing for both of us. We both had memories of watching the annual trilogy of terror before trick-or-treating. They were these strange, twisted takes on the world we had come to know and trust as kids. The older I got, the more I loved the freaky takes on the Simpsons universe. Every Halloween as I got older the specials would come into syndication in increasing frequency; more specials were backlogged to be played out on the local channels. I was in heaven. Along with the proliferation of DVDs came the ability to instantly gratify viewing demands - we're spoiled by this now, but at the time it was revelatory. So if I wanted to watch all the Treehouse of Horror episodes back to back, I could. 

Having done this, I quickly figured out that my favorite of the older canon of ToH episodes was also one of the darkest. Treehouse of Horror IV is, in my humble opinion, the darkest and most funny installment in the series. From here on out it felt like it was a matter of diminishing returns. Considering that there are some 16+ installments after this, that's quite the damning statement. I don't mean to impugn the show to that extent; conversely I feel that this episode serves as a high water mark for the series, especially for the Halloween specials. Par example - 'The Devil & Homer Simpson' sees Homer subjected to his personal Hell, courtesy of Ned Flanders. 'Terror At 5½ Feet' retells one of the greatest paranoid tales from the original run of The Twilight Zone. 'Bart Simpson's Dracula' is pure Hammer horror, all, mood and dark substance, only broken by the briefest bits of levity. 

There's some genuine elements of horror in this installment. Homer's trip through Hell is visceral and bleak, despite the well known gag of his infinite appetite. Bonus points for the Jury of the Damned - Nixon, Lizzie Borden, Benedict Arnold, John Wilkes Booth and the starting lineup of the 1976 Phillie Flyers. Bart's ordeal with a Gremlin (not that kind) on a school bus is the sneakiest bit of paranoia fuel, where as a child watching it for the first time (unaware of the Shatneriffic origins) I was terrified of his inescapable situation. His unraveling is effectively disturbing for a cartoon, espically during prime-time TV in the early 90s. The Dracula tale is a bit rote, but the ending, with its inescapability and subtle twist of villians, is spooky, haunting stuff. It gave me the willies as a kid. Now I just marvel at the effective atmosphere and vibe put off by what is (and was) the most entertaining and hysterical show on TV.

That subtle mix of horror and humour is what makes this installment of Treehouse of Horror so engaging. The framing device, which was soon dropped, has nothing to do with it other than introducing the pieces. But even those small bits of writing (inspired by Rod Serling's Night Gallery) are scary and funny. All of the most beloved horror media in the last decades have that mix of humor and horror - Shaun of the Dead, Ghostbusters, what have you. If you don't dig the Simpsons, what's your problem, seriously? If you do, congratulations on being a person. Hopefully this episode can add to your Spooky Month delights.

Blinky

Let's veer off course, shall we?

I was never a fan of Doctor Who - at least, not in my formative years. It was one of the many British things of which I had only peripheral awareness. I knew there were lots of scarves and something called a police box and a T.A.R.D.I.S. and that it was pretty hard sci fi. Thus ended the limits of my understanding of the Whoniverse. That all changed when I started listening to the Nerdist podcast - it was a constant source of excitement on the show and after so many episodes of these funny, intelligent people rambling on about things I didn't understand, I said why not?

Picking up the series via Netflix, I started with the latest incarnation or the long-running BBC show, a mere five series late. It was pretty damn good - interesting characters, outlandish (extremely hard) sci fi and funny, incredibly smart writing that constantly surprised me. So I stuck with it and watched episodes here and there when I was cleaning or cooking, working my way through the history. I was anxiously awaiting a particular episode.

So how does this relate to Spooky Month, you ask? That episode, Series 3's Blink, is some of the best unnervingly creepy science fiction I've seen. In an interesting twist of expectation, it's what is absent that makes it such a strong episode of the series, let alone any episode of television. There are no returning characters, the Doctor himself is hardly in it at all, there's no bloodshed or gore. All the drama and weight come from some fantastic and inspired writing and directing, as well as a few clever ideas. What unfolds, though, is terrifying and tense, a holding-my-breath-as-I-watch kind of rare viewing experience. If you want an idea of what to expect, here is the most encapsulated version from Wikipedia that spoils the least amount of content for you: "The episode focuses on a young woman, Sally Sparrow, trying to solve the connection between 17 disparate DVD titles, and statues that move when no-one is looking at them." 

This episode of Doctor Who is a small, isoltated example of the series, which I feel is a fantastic starting point for someone unfamiliar to the show - it plays like a short film and is quite accessbile. Even the time traveling elements are handled with such intelligent and emotional deftness that I enjoy repeated viewings. The idea or paradoxes and cause and effect are handled in a way that seems fresh and dangerous, instead of trite and cliched. It's a scary, smart story that gets you into a weird little world for 40+ minutes and out - not the time sink of a movie or watching a whole series, just an episode. Give it a shot and see if it sticks to you the way it did to me. Just don't Blink.

Kingdom Done

More Spooky! Less renown!

Yeah, still doing TV here, only now we get off the beaten path into the more obscure. Less famous, more ghoulish. As much as I love Twin Peaks, I have to write about something else. So yesterday we looked at a legendary cult show. Let's flip that idea on its head and use today's Spooky Month post to look at a show that was little known, but just as deserving of a chance. I'm talking about the Stephen King-produced adaptation of Lars Von Trier's Riget, Kingdom 

Hospital.

Broadcast back in 2004, Kingdom Hospital was a 13 episode mini series. Adapting the story told in the Danish series, the American version similarly told the story of a hospital where the things that die don't stay dead. There was an old mill for making Civil War uniforms that burned to the ground in Maine. On that site, the original Kingdom Hospital was built...which also burned down. From the ashes came the latest iteration of the hospital, which serves as a place from which King spun a series of interconnected stories revolving around the doctors and patients in the haunted hospital. There are mysteries to be solved, wrongs to be righted and deaths to be avenged over the course of the series, most of which hold together fairly well. 

That's kind of the rub of the series, though. I certainly enjoyed it during my first experience watching it, essentially using it as a stop-gap while Lost went into re-reuns. It was a bit of spooky serialized TV that kept my attention and dealt in the macabre. After the fact, though, I felt underwhelmed. I watched it the first time through and haven't had the wherewithal to revisit it in its entirety. I feel like I ought to, as though I should give the series another spin and see if it still has the same charm it did almost ten years ago. 

There was a series-spanning arc about a little girl whose ghost is known to all the residents of the hospital, as well as some strange inhuman forces, not all of them benevolent. Individual stories, like a ball player and his shot at redemption, are nice distractions but I'm sure they were maddening when this was broadcast week-to-week. I caught the whole thing in one shot on DVD, which is by far the preferred way to view Kingdom Hospital - you can string a couple episodes together to get a better sense of the overall plot and character development.  I read online that the show was a shadow of Twin Peaks, and in a way I agree with that assessment. It's not that the show was seriously flawed, it was more that it struggled to make effective use of a premise so rich with potential. Haunted hospital produced by King! How could that go wrong? Still, the results felt muddled. 

I know this isn't the strongest recommendation for a series that I've enjoyed, but you should watch for yourself and make your own judgement. Kingdom Hospital certainly has some spooky and engaging moments, they just felt too few and far between. It could be too dreary and heavy handed. It still had some cool characters and settings, though. Creepy stuff for fall. Add it to your to-watch list and see if I'm off base. You might dig it like I did.

Northwest Passage

Let's go for a walk in the woods, shall we?


As I've made it abundantly clear in past posts, there is a great deal of culture from the 90s that I adore. While I have shown great admiration for music and cartoons from my formative years, there are occasionally cultural blank spots that need to be filled in. There have also been a fair number of posts here about Lost and Silent Hill. The common influence both of my long-standing favorites share is rooted back at the beginning of the 90s, in today's Spooky Month subject matter - Twin Peaks.

I was too young to have experienced the pop culture zeitgeist of Twin Peaks when it first aired. David Lynch's groundbreaking multi-genre show was notorious for quite a few good reasons, among them the surreal imagery and whodunit that ran central to the short lived series. From what my history books and parents have told me, it was one of the first water-cooler shows, something everyone was discussing the next day. It was popular and remarkable enough that I was able to pick up hints and shadows of the bizarre series in other forms. As it permeated the pop-culture lexicon, it laid the groundwork for some of my most-loved things, like the previously mentioned cult show Lost and the extremely Twin Peaks influenced Silent Hill series. It was only fitting then, that I trace the roots of these things back to the source. So when I was unable to sleep in the weeks approaching my wedding this past summer, I passed the nights by devouring the TV legend.

Immediately I was struck by the atmosphere and distinct personality of the series, the clearly identifiable Lynch hallmarks of surreal images, whipsaw mood changes and the undercurrent of the strange and abnormal. It was also immediately apparent that I was hooked on the series, chewing through the episodes as fast as I could, but savoring them in the understanding that it would only be two short seasons of this weird and wonderful show. I confess, I loved everything about it, even when the quality dipped (as the common reputation holds) in the second season. The first season, though - unparalleled. 

Everything about the show was amazing to my tastes - it felt like the series had been made just for me, only to lie in wait while the stars slowly aligned to bring me to Twin Peaks. I love the dreary, cool atmosphere of the Northwestern setting, having lived there in my late teens. Angelo Badalamenti's noir and jazz based score added to the ambiance in an undeniable way. The absolutely quirky and uniquely drawn characters in their soap-opera parodies and grim circumstances. It was all a strange and enthralling mix that I immediately was hooked on. The iconic images of Lynch's dreamworlds only drew me deeper to the odd, short lived tale. It was exhilarating to see things that had made such impressions on culture for the first time, the scenes feeling at once alive and alien yet somehow familiar, a sense of "Oh, this is what that meant" coming over me more than once.

It's no wonder this amazing series is such a legend in popular culture - it set the bar higher than its imitators could hope to clear. Others have come close, but watching this show at night in the quiet dark while waiting to fall asleep...man, what a memorable week. The common thread running through some of my favorite things suddenly stood much clearer to me, having been lain bare by tracing it back to the source. If you want to relive an exciting time in TV history it's available on Netflix or from kind friends on DVD. It's eerie, spooky stuff that's perfect drama for this time of year. Makes me want a cup of dark coffee and a slice of pie, too, come to think of it. 

Groovy Ghosts

I can't tell if I want Halloween to happen already, or never arrive.

The build up to the holiday of the dead is just as awesome as the day itself, in my opinion. In fact, the day itself could even be a let down, the way I build it up. I love it, if you weren't able to tell by the whole Spooky Month thing. As the day gets closer and closer, my better half likes to indulge my juvenile obsession. This involves both a plethora of candy and the annual observance of fittingly themed cartoons. It used to only be Treehouse of Horror episodes, but as the years have gone by I've started to sneak in the occasional South Park episode into the mix. While the Colorado kids might not have as many Halloween themed episodes in their canon, there are a few make their own indelible mark on my pop-cultural lexicon. One of my favorite is the season three outing, 'Korn's Groovy Pirate Ghost Mystery'. 

South Park is all too often dismissed as nothing more than vulgarity and offensive crassness wrapped up in an elementary school setting. This dismissal couldn't be farther off base - it is, in fact, a thought-provoking and nuanced show with a wicked sense of humor that pulls no punches. The term South Park Republican? This is where it comes from. They've done multi-episode arcs that are scathing examinations not only of other shows but their own standing in relation to their TV peers. They've pushed political buttons with the best of them. They've broken all kinds of censorship taboos. They've also done a phenomenal job with this Halloween parody of my childhood favorite, Scooby Doo. So I'm asking you to look past any prejudices you might have (wrong that they are) and check out this episode that's over 10 years old.  When you get down to the core of this episode, it's really just a solid, somewhat unremarkable example of South Park in its nascent prime. There's no long-standing political message to make it a human, relate-able tale. There's no hallmark celebrity-bashing or scathing pop-culture take-downs. All it is, really, is a firmly tongue-in-cheek take on the old Scooby Doo, mystery solving, Halloween story. 

There is so much about this episode that could be labeled as arbitrarily silly and nonsensical. There's no heavy drama or high stakes. I think this light and indulgent episode is enjoyable for just those reasons - no big message, just a goofy Halloween-centered story. Fifth graders are tormenting Cartman, Kyle, Kenny and Stan on the approach of Halloween with tales of Pirate Ghosts. To get back at the fifth grade bullies, the boys dig up the corpse of Stan's grandmother to use as a scare-tactic. Korn, for arbitrary promotional reasons, are driving their Mystery Machine style van through town and crash when they see Pirate Ghosts. Everyone teams up to investigate these hauntings that are happening at the pier in South Park, where the local radio station is set to hold their big costume contest. That's all that happens - pretty light and fluffy compared to where the show is now. What ensues is both an awesome riff on Scooby Doo and a series of grotesque necrophilia jokes, naturally. 

So much of the insanity in this episode is hilariously unspoken. Pirate ghosts. Haunting a pier in South Park. In the middle of Colorado. Korn's unflappable optimism and cheery attitude in the face of their dreary and angst-ridden music. The four boys being so cavalier and unquestioning of their own grave-robbing. The inclusion of Niblett, the pitch-perfect parody of the 70s Hanna Barbera mascot/sidekick kid-friendly...thing...that accompanies the group. Kenny's amazing and over the top ED-209 costume. Wendy Testaberger winning the costume contest in the requisite Chewbacca costume.

When you get down to it, it's a stupid, silly story that has no real purpose, other than to entertain you for 20 minutes. Considering how life can be so overwhelming and demanding at times, sometimes I just want to relax and laugh at some inanity and enjoy the Halloween build-up. No disturbing visuals, no unnerving horrors. Just a simple, stupid cartoon to help me unwind. I can hardly wait for Halloween. Spooky Month isn't all depressing horror and disturbing content - just some of the time. 

Rankin File

Evening, all.


Yesterday's post was on a Halloween special that scarred me as a small child. I found, in talking to people last night, that I was not the only person who was severely traumatized by it. Today's piece, in the interest of Spooky Month and a week of TV specials, was something that had a similar effect, only this time I was way too old for the movie. For your entertainment, however, I'll tell the tale. 


I can swear that I was completely sober at the time. In fact, I'm pretty sure I was no more than 17 or 18 when this viewing experience occurred. Like many of my Warm Fuzzy Viewings, this was something I saw while hiding from the world in my parent's basement, in their house out in the woods. It was late at night, I think maybe a Sunday night. I was flipping through the channels in the days before DVRs and net-delivered content. This was also back at a time when AMC was more about old movies than the amazing shows they provide now. What they were showing late at night caught my eye and immediately gave me the willies. I had to watch, despite my discomfort. It was Mad Monster Party.

Mad Monster Party is one of the old Rankin/Bass animated pictures, in the vein of their famous Christmas specials and holiday features. All stop-motion little puppets, a sort of ancient precursor to the shenanigans of Robot Chicken. Done with these posed figures, they tell the story of Baron Von Frankenstein hosting a convention of the classic movie monsters at his castle. He makes an announcement of his retirement and plans for succession involving his nebbish nephew, which the monsters find unacceptable. Shenanigans ensue, to say the least. 

What I think threw me for a loop about Mad Monster Party was the uncanny aspect of the presentation when coupled with the ghoulish imagery. Obviously it was aimed at kids when it was produced and released, but seeing it late at night, not really knowing the nature of the beast, I was kind of transfixed. Something about how the characters moved in their lifeless yet animated manner creeped me out on a subconscious level. The dead eyes. The seemingly-kooky-and-fun-but-really-kind-of-creepy ambiance. Maybe it was just that I wasn't expecting it when I was flipping through the channels, waiting for South Park to come back from a commercial break. 

I say it was creepy, and it was. But Mad Monster Party still has a certain charm you should check out. It's on Netflix Instant, and trailers and clips are on YouTube. The retro kitsch is kind of awesome. I just get the willies from the stop motion. Keep reading Spooky Month for more TV themed stuff tomorrow!