Thir13en Ghosts (2001)

Original Post Date: 01.10.18

For the last couple of days I have been trying to figure out how to write this post because, to me, talking about Thir13en Ghosts (2001) feels like a tall order. I like the movie a great deal (I mean, did you read my last post? I know, right?) and somehow my insecurities are messing with me, making me try to believe that no matter how hard I try my words would not make the film justice. So tonight, my weirdo friend, I say ‘Fuck my insecurities’ and let me just write what I think, what I feel, what I love about Thir13en Ghosts.

But first, let us admire this beautiful video put together by youtube user tonightsreality:

The movie reminds of a haunted house, an ultra-sophisticated haunted house, that is. It also reminds of a museum, of an undeniable authority of beauty. A house that’s not a house.

Arthur Kriticos is the main character, the widower, the heartbroken father of two, the struggling Math teacher, the surviving nephew, the heir. He is loving, kind, polite, and certainly the one I would like to have in my team should I ever become trapped in a huge basement full of ghosts. He is the voice of reason. (also, quick parenthesis, should someone ever told me that fifteen years after I saw the movie I would be married to a guy whose step-father was related to the actor who plays Arthur, I would have laughed at his face and call him a nut-job, yet, here I am)

Dennis Rafkin is such a fun character and I am not going to lie, one of the main reasons why I fell hard for the movie. Yeah, the actor was cute and stuff but his mannerisms, attitude, sense of humor, comedic timing, as well as his struggles with authority, with substances, with himself, that’s what made me obsess over him. I mean, just look at him:

Now, let’s talk about the ghosts, shall we? Out of the twelve ghosts, my two favorites were The Angry Princess and The Jackal. And now that I think about it, they both are opposites. One is female, beautiful, naked, timid, poise and sophisticated, a danger to herself. The other is male, vile looking, wearing a straitjacket and a cage over his head, acting all over the place, like a wild animal, a danger to everyone. (oh, so poetic)

Besides these two ghosts being so appealing in the movie, as in, when you actually get to see them on screen, their backstories [found on the dvd special features] were equally amazing. Here they are:

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The Angry Princess: She is Dana Newman, who did not believe in her own natural beauty. Abusive boyfriends fueled her low self-esteem, which led to much unneeded plastic surgery for imagined defects. Eventually she got a job working for a plastic surgeon, getting paid in treatments rather than cash. Alone at the clinic one night, she tried to perform surgery on herself, but wound up blinding herself in one eye and permanently mutilating herself beyond saving. She committed suicide in the bathtub by slashing her body repeatedly with a butcher knife. When she was found, people noted that she was as beautiful in death as she had been in life. Her ghost is naked, still carrying the knife she killed herself with and showing all the wounds, and the inside walls of her cube are splattered with her blood. In her bathroom scene, the phrase “I’m sorry” is visible on the floor in blood; subtitles also reveal that the blurred, hissing speech that announces her arrival is her whispering “I’m sorry.” This was written on her suicide note. 

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The Jackal: He is the ghost of Ryan Kuhn, who was born in 1887 to a prostitute. Ryan had an insatiable lust for women, rape, and murdering prostitutes. Wanting to be cured, he committed himself to Borehamwood Asylum, but after attacking a nurse, he was put in a straitjacket and thrown in a padded room. After years of this imprisonment he went completely insane, scratching at the walls so violently that his fingernails were torn completely off. The doctors kept him permanently bound in his straitjacket, tying it tighter when he acted out, causing his limbs to contort horribly. Still fighting to free himself, Ryan gnawed through the jacket until the doctors finally locked his head in a metal cage and sealed him away in the dark basement cell. There, he grew to hate any kind of human contact, screaming madly and cowering whenever approached. When a fire broke out in the asylum, everyone but Ryan escaped. He chose to stay behind and face the fire. As a ghost, his arms are free from his jacket, and the bars of his cage are ripped outwards, showing that he may have escaped his bindings again sometime before the fire started and that his cage may have heated up enough to where he could have ripped it open before the fire consumed him.

From the top of my head, here are some of the other things I really enjoyed from the movie: the entire music score and selected songs (Massive Attack!), the opening scene at the junkyard, the truck full of blood, the greedy lawyer splitting in two, the spells written on the floor and walls, the exterior window/walls moving, the cubes and their decorations based on their ghost, the book collection, the toy collection, the dark basement, the main bedroom and its bathroom, the tub full of blood, I’M SORRY written in blood, when all twelve ghosts are together around the circle and Arthur starts counting them, Math being the element that ultimately saves Arthur, all the ghosts walking free into the woods.

Aaaahh, that felt good. I finally got it out of my system. I finally put into writing why I love Thir13en Ghosts.

Here, let’s toast for Loving & Accomplishing things — hear, hear!

Until next time,

-Marath

Ghostest With The Mostest aka Ju-On (2002)

Original Post Date: 12.06.17

I don’t get scared easily. No, in fact let me rephrase that. I do not get scared. Period. What I experience when watching horror movies is not fear, is excitement. Why? Well, I actually have no idea but I should ask my therapist about it… Anyhow, imagine my surprise when I got scared, really (really!) scared when I watched for the first time Ju-On (2002). I could not believe it, I was in full fear mode, sweaty palms, accelerated heartbeat, arms hugging my legs which were close to my chest. It was so silly, I was alone in the dark at night, sitting on my bed, watching a foreign horror movie, feeling vulnerable, like a child.

I was introduced in my early twenties to Ju-On by a college friend who let me borrow his dvd and, if I am not mistaken, that one was the very first Japanese horror movie I ever saw… I don’t know, man, up to this day I cannot tell you exactly why the movie was so terrifying to me. Yes, it was subtitled, subtle, slow, yet not boring. And yes, there were murders, a haunted house, curses, evil spirts, ghosts, yet none of that sounded particularly exhilarating to me. But how wrong I was to judge it… I was proven how little it was of me to think that a country such as Japan would not be equipped with the knowledge needed to make me feel afraid of ghosts, I mean, the Japan, the one home to Yurei. (for info on Yurei go here)

I can tell you without a single doubt that my favorite ghost in a movie is now Kayako, followed by Toshio, of course (dead kids are so creepy).

Well, my weirdo, do you want to take a look at some of my favorite scenes with Kayako? Yeah?? YAY! Here they are:

This is it for now, it is getting late and we all have to go to work tomorrow. Good night.

- Marath

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Me, Myself & THE WOMAN (2011)

Original Post Date: 09.04.17

This is crazy. I have been trying to put together this post for months. I started in July, continued in August, and well, look at me here today, in September.

I’ve tried to understand why it has been so difficult for me to structure my writing and the best thing I could come up with was that it overwhelmed me. There is so much I want to say about this movie, about the story, about the characters, about the cinematography, about the music, about the unspoken, about The Woman (2011).

I want to say everything in a well put manner. I know I will miss things. I also know that in a few days from now I might want to add to it, but I won’t, at least not here.

Listen, if you are acquainted with my style of writing you might know by now that I don’t review horror movies, per se, but share my opinions and emotions about them –what they made me think and feel is what matters to me and that is what I am going to do right now. (By the way, I always provide a link to their IMDB page so you can go read the synopsis and watch the trailer, because like I said, I don’t review movies and want to assume you already know the basic information about them.)

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

I heard about The Woman months ago on Instagram (where else?) and it immediately caught my eye. The woman on the pictures depicted both anger and dismay and it fascinated me. These were some of the images that pulled me in:

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Doesn’t she look like the prey and the threat?

I am not going to lie, the very first time I watched The Woman there were some aspects that annoyed me so much that I even rolled my eyes a couple of times. Why? Because of their choice of music. The film was heavily packed with happy tunes, pop songs if you will. The music was distracting and took me out of the moment and made me think how it was not compatible with what I was watching. I didn’t like that. Until I watched it for the second time, third, and fourth. Yes. I have watched the movie four times since that day in July.

Also, the other thing I didn’t like was the weak acting by some actors. There were even times when I felt like I was watching a B-Movie… until the woman was in front of the camera. Oh man, the whole vibe changed as soon as you saw her –perfect lighting, and no stupid happy songs but ambience noise. Perfect moments with her made worth enduring one more distracting song.

Do you remember I mentioned I started drafting this post weeks ago? Well, this was from July’s entry:

The Woman, the feral woman, savage, mute, the hunter turned prey, the strong made captive, victim, kidnapped, raped; her ugliness was breathtaking, her ability to see good from evil made her honest and true to her goal of survival, her contorted face and body explored the depths of human endurance

Belle Cleek, the fragile afraid mother, silenced, obedient, victim of domestic abuse

Peggy Cleek, the teenage daughter struggling with the injustices of life, sadness, loneliness, unplanned hidden pregnancy (was she raped by her dad?)

Brian Cleek, the teenage damaged son, too far gone, too dangerous

Chris Cleek, the father, the abuser, misogynistic monster, evil

Darlin’ Cleek, the baby girl of the house, intact, loved

Let’s talk about the two women of the family I identified with. Belle and Peggy. Mother and daughter. One is willing to endure the same old abuse without raising her voice due to fear, and the other while caught in the middle of it, speaks up and acts kindly, whatever ‘kindly’ is in her situation. Both women, both complex, both hurt, both mothers (in the case of Peggy, soon to be), both with maternal instincts, both living the same hell.

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Now, in regards to the other members of the family, what can I say? The father was the main villain of the story, a total monster, yet he acted based on the goodness he thought he was doing by ‘civilizing’ the wild woman who used to roam the forest like an animal. In his mind, the father was doing good. The son? I don’t think he thought he was doing good, on the contrary, I think he enjoyed inflicting pain just because. It’s important to mention that when the men were not working together towards the ‘project’, they interacted coldly and at an arms-length on their everyday life situations. It was no surprise that at the very end they both suffered the same faith.

The little girl was the control group. She was the normal one. I have no opinions about her.

Wow, you have made it this far? I applaud your endurance. Here, I have saved the best for last –my favorite scene! (Click here to view it with my reaction.) I love that scene so fucking much! Each time I watch it it gives me goosebumps and reminds me the reason why I love horror movies is due to their honest and human side.

This is my unedited first draft (from August) about what my favorite scene meant to me:

The Woman is held captive in the cellar, tied up, getting a sponge bath from Chris Cleek. She is staring into Belle’s eyes as if begging for help, as if extending an emotional hand, woman to woman, victim to victim, asking to be saved while the opportunity arises as the villain gets distracted, cleaning and touching her half naked breasts. Belle’s eyes follow The Woman’s eyes and we, for a moment, just for a few seconds, are one-hundred percent sure Belle is going to do the right thing and hit her husband on the back of his head with a big piece of wood, ‘Belle is our hero!’– we think relieved, until we are proven wrong. In those brief moments when Belle is still looking back at The Woman’s eyes (all while an incredible and very mood appropriate song plays in the background), her eyes get distracted and move down to the chest and witness her husband’s hand touching and caressing The Woman, preferring The Woman, the novelty, over her, the loyal stale wife. Betty is no longer on our side. Betty gives the big piece of wood to Chris Cleek to help him with the faulty structure of the cellar. To make matters worse, we see how this betrayal affects The Woman as her face turns from fearful—and tearful—to blank. This was the only time when The Woman showed true vulnerability and fear.

Both women at their own habitat vs. both women at the shared wrong one:

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There was so much going on in the movie, cool stuff and characters I won’t mention only because I did not identify with them. You could say all you have read on this entry represents something (at some level) about me; the good, the bad, and the ugly. Because after all, I did not entitle this post “Me Myself and The Woman” for nothing.

“I never condoned what you did. Never. You just can’t keep putting one thing on top of the other and expect to keep getting away with it forever. I’ve had it.” -Belle Cleek

-Marath