“There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie” – so says Randy, the geeky virgin played by Jamie Kennedy in the original Scream movie.
Randy’s rules are a) you never have sex b) you never drink or do drugs and c) you never say “I’ll be right back” – because you won’t!
Sound advice, although doesn’t Randy end up dead too at some point? Perhaps its in one of the rubbishy sequels. I can’t remember.
Never mind. Halloween is coming up soon (October 31) which means it’s the perfect time to re-acquaint myself with Scream and other horror classics, both good and bad.
I should warn you. I am a terrible horror movie watcher, always in a state of perpetual terror, heart racing. Once in the cinema, when I was a teenager, I threw my popcorn straight up in the air when a vampire awoke in The Lost Boys (Kiefer Sutherland with fangs) and did the same, unfortunately with a glass of red wine this time (on someone else’s couch) when one of the masked intruders in the very creepy (and underrated) The Strangers made a sudden appearance.
I have also been known to bury my head behind a pillow, hide behind the couch, hide behind the curtains, block my ears and close my eyes – much to the amusement, but also annoyance of my fellow film watchers.
But if you had to ask me what I would need to survive a movie marathon of my favourite horror movies, these are things I’d pack in my man crate*:
Extra thick gloves so I don’t get touched up by evil psychiatrist Dr Hannibal Lector, and night vision goggles for later so I can shoot transvestite serial killer Buffalo bill squarely between the eyeballs before he gets me in the dark basement of his creepy old house (For The Silence of the Lambs).
A good local map or perhaps a decent GPS device so I don’t get lost while inexplicably taking a walk on a moonlit night in the barren Yorkshire Moors, plus a little note-book to write down handy hints like “Stay on the road. Keep clear of the moors” and “Beware the moon, lads”. Also, a gun loaded with silver bullets in case a deranged hairy monster leaps out at me (For An American Werewolf in London).
I’d need a beach bag, with towel, but no bathing suit so I would have a damn good excuse for not getting into the water and a scary book about sharks to convince me I really don’t need to go in for a swim in my undies. (For Jaws, the original, where the shark actually looked real).
For later in the evening, three books, “A guide to old Manhattan apartment and their ghoulish histories“, “How to know if your partner is a Satanist” (pocket size) and “New York’s most reputable obstetricians: the Definitive List“. (For Rosemary’s Baby)
A few more odds and ends: Extra strong coffee so I don’t fall asleep while having a bath (A Nightmare on Elm Street) and my anti-psychotic medication to keep the subway demons at bay (Jacob’s Ladder)
And of course, a decent recipe for pea soup! (The Exorcist).
*I was invited to write this post for mancrates.com, an American gift company that makes up collections of nostalgic gifts and then ships them out in actual wooden crates, complete with an Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark-style crowbar, to open them.
I haven’t been paid to write it, nor did I get a free man crate (I did ask) but I loved the concept when I checked out their website. Pity they don’t ship to Australia.
I especially liked the crate filled with exotic meats crate (including biltong), the coffee crate with genuine NATO ammo case and one I am sure would be sought after by many blokes, the retro gamer man crate.