Tag Archives: Angry Grandpa
Welcome to the third installment of our perennial perusal of Halloween sweets. If for some reason this one’s not enough for you, here’s the first, and the second. It’s a lot of sugar and junk, so pace yourself.
I don’t want to admit that I’ve been eating a lot of candy corn this fall, but earlier I cut myself and bled orange. I’m surprised my craps aren’t pumpkin-colored by now. I make a lot of sacrifices for this website, but at this point I feel like Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now, writhing and bleeding, muttering “shit… I’m still eating this shit.”
I used to call myself a horror-movie buff in the 1990s, so I’ve heard all the grievances about “scream queens” and “final girls”. And, you know, those complaints worked; now every female protagonist in movies is an unstoppable “badass”. I saw the recent space drama Gravity, and I was mystified why so many people disliked it. Then I looked into the details; modern audiences rejected a Sandra Bullock who freaks out and cries when things go sour. Never mind that it’s part of a character arc; females must always be steely and in control.
Well, like so many aspects of modern film, that’s boring. Another victim of political correctness in movies is the Girl Who Can Scream. The scolds among us will suggest that men get a perverse satisfaction out of seeing women in jeopardy, but that’s only the perverts. For the rest of us, it’s a human fire alarm, when it’s done right. It signals that things are really, really bad. They even used to put it in the trailers.