As proof of the power of voodoo, I offer the Super Bowl win of the New Orleans Saints. A cheap shot? Maybe, but you have to understand that the Saints have a certain reputation down here in the Gulf Coast. Nice guys to be sure, but winners? Rarely. Kind of like the Houston Astros…well, a lot like the Houston Astros. Don’t get me wrong—I’m thrilled they won. New Orleans is one of the coolest cities in the world. It’s had a very hard time the last few years, and this win will go a long way toward getting the city completely back on its feet.
So, here’s to you, New Orleans Saints! Enjoy it while it lasts. You earned it. But now I feel sorry for that nice Peyton Manning. I wonder how his dad, beloved former Saints quarterback Archie Manning, is handling this whole mess. I foresee awkward family meals over the next few months.
~Theron Neel
I’m happy to announce there’s going to be another blood bath in Texas. First, there was that messy chainsaw massacre back in the ’70s, which people are still talking about. Then last year, there was the 
One of the most mistaken assumptions is that artists have it easy. Sure, it sounds awesome. You get to sit around in your pajamas all day, chasing your muse and watching or reading whatever catches your attention, all in the name of “research.” But then you have to actually do the work. You have to create. You have to deliver the goods. You have to make something out of nothing. And therein lies the rub. Take it from me—inspiration isn’t always enough. Sometimes, you need a little something extra to motivate you. Writer/director/actress 
Grubb has given us a movie that, severed limbs aside, bears more relation to the mumblecore films of Andrew Bujalski than to standard-issue fright flicks—call it “mumblehorror” if you will. This quirky black comedy rambles along at its own pace, finding its rhythm as it goes. But that’s all part of its charm. Another part of its charm is the performances of its cast. While some of the players are a bit uneven, all of the principals are very good. For me, the standout is Derek Dirlam. As Jeremy, he demonstrates the charisma and chops necessary to easily carry a big-budget, mainstream project. Speaking of budget, Grubb has delivered a flick that, quality-wise, is head and shoulders above other low-budget indie horror films. Why Am I in a Box? looks and, more surprisingly, sounds wonderful. That’s quite an achievement for a first-time director working with limited funds.
Well, we made it. It’s the last stop on Slammed & Damned’s whirlwind European tour. We’ve seen four Euro horror films in four days. And while we haven’t seen all that much of Europe, we have seen four very different styles of Euro horror. First, it was 
The film Baba Yaga is based on a graphic novel of the same name by Italian comics artist Guido Crepax, who came to prominence in the 1960s and ‘70s and was known for his fluid illustrations and erotic, hallucinatory storytelling. Though he’s not a household name, he has been covertly influential over the years. If you’ve seen Frank Miller’s Sin City books, you’ve seen Crepax.
Director Corrado Farina set out to interpret Crepax’s work into the medium of film and he did a good job—maybe too good of a job. What works on the comic page doesn’t necessarily work on the screen. Crepax’s stories and images are surreal dreamscapes that are highly impressionistic and often lack a strong plot line. In his work, it’s not the tale that’s important; what matters is how it’s told. Farina employed the same philosophy in making Baba Yaga, but the demands of commercial film (and his producers) required a somewhat straightforward narrative be imposed. So, Farina wrapped his basic tale in bizarre imagery and visual non sequiturs that are faithful to Crepax but don’t have much relation to traditional film grammar and syntax. The end result is a bit of a mess. But it’s a Euro-fabulous mess that can be a lot of fun if you approach it on its own terms. Also, don’t expect much horror in this horror movie. It’s not scary, just stylish. But that’s enough for me. I choose to view it as a time capsule—one that includes a groovy score as well as a leather-clad killer sex doll. (See what I did? If you were on the fence, I know you want to see it now.) Check out the NSFW trailer below for a taste of Baba Yaga’s sado-delights.
Here we are on day three of Slammed & Damned’s 
Kill, Baby…Kill! is a wonderful film and an excellent example of what’s great about Mario Bava as a filmmaker. It’s interesting to step back and view this film in context of the times in which it was made. In the mid-sixties, Britain’s Hammer Studios was making solid, Gothic horror flicks, while in America, Roger Corman was doing the same through American International Pictures. Over in Italy, Bava was making similar films, but he brought a level artistic skill that far surpassed that of his peers. Kill, Baby…Kill! is full of what we love about Bava: artful compositions, expert utilization of shadow and light, an active camera, surprising use of color. Watching this movie today, it’s easy to see the line connecting Bava and Dario Argento, who seems to have picked up where Bava left off—maybe more so than Bava’s son, Lamberto, who acts here as his father’s assistant director.
Welcome to the second stop on Slammed & Damned’s European tour. Yesterday, 
Cut (ahem) to 40 years later. There’s a maniac running loose on a Boston university campus, cutting up coeds with a chainsaw and taking pieces of the bodies. We know the killer is the little boy because we see him reassembling the now bloody puzzle from the opening scene. But who is he? Is he a student? Is he the groundskeeper? Is he a professor or maybe the dean? Soon, the police are called in. Apparently, the Boston police department only has two detectives, and they might well be the most incompetent detectives in movie history. But they mean well and everyone respects them. Eventually, the case is solved, but not before the murderer has bloodily chopped up several coeds and collected enough body parts to assemble a human nudie puzzle. The end?
I love this movie so much, but where to begin? Let’s break it down. First, the score of this flick is fantastic. It’s like a character all its own. One minute, it’s moody Goblin-like electro sound effects; the next minute, it’s cheesy ‘70s porn music. But it’s always perfect. Awesome! Next, this killer isn’t your usual maniac. He seems to also be the invisible man. This guy strolls around campus in broad daylight wearing a trench coat, a suspicious black fedora pulled low, clumsily hiding his chainsaw behind his back—and no one notices. Awesome! Next, because the police force is so understaffed, the lead detective (‘70s hunk Christopher George) calls in an amateur to work undercover. But not just any amateur. He calls in former world-famous tennis pro Mary Riggs (‘70s fox Linda Day George), who happens to have retired to a desk job in the police station. Awesome!
Speaking of Linda Day George, she has maybe the best scene in the movie. After finding the bloody corpse of a young girl, she’s so upset that she stands waving her clenched fists and looking at the sky, screaming “Bastard! Bastard! (beat) BASTARD!!!” It’s so deliciously awful, I had to stop and watch it twice. Awesome! Add to that the aforementioned aerobic dancewear that seems to appear every few minutes, as well as a kung fu attack that comes out of nowhere for no reason other than to have a kung fu attack in the movie, and you just have one of the best worst flicks ever committed to film. But it’s not all bad. If Pieces gets anything right, it’s the kills. There are several bloody, stylish murders here. So, if you’re watching and scratching your head at some incongruous plot point, just wait a few minutes. You’ll be rewarded with a slo-mo stabbing on a water bed or something cool like that.
So, with Pieces, the filmmakers have given us one of the worst films I’ve ever seen, and in so doing, one of the best films I’ve ever seen. I’m still not sure how they did it, but I really don’t care. I’m just glad it exists.
We kick off 
Meanwhile, a tour bus full of seven sightseers (the usual varied group of clichéd characters from European Central Casting) is tooling around the German forest, seeing the sites (which seem to be, umm, trees). The tour bus hits a roadblock, but the driver is advised by an über-creepy farmer to head to—say it with me—the Baron’s castle, which he does (of course). After they arrive, it soon becomes über-clear that the seven people on the bus represent the seven deadly sins, though some of them are sketched more broadly than others. It was über-easy to identify lust, gluttony, greed and pride. But all the others just seemed to be über-whiny, which isn’t a deadly sin though it probably should be. But I über-digress.
The only actors I’ll mention by name are Erika Blanc, who plays the succubus, and Daniel Emilfork, who plays Satan. Blanc is an Italian actress known for her work in horror flicks of the period. She’s quite good as Lita, prowling around in revealing clothes and tempting people to their doom. Her makeup in Devil’s Nightmare is an interesting choice. She’s gorgeous as she tempts people, but when they die she looks like, well, a green current-day Faye Dunaway. Emilfork is one of those actors you know you’ve seen somewhere. I finally realized I knew him from the cool French film The City of Lost Children. Here, all he has to do is sit around looking mysterious, and he nails it.
Yes, once again, it is Event Time! But don’t let the title of this post worry you. The challenge mentioned above is not for you, my dear readers. I promise you that you will never have to do any heavy lifting at Slammed & Damned. It’s enough that you’re here now, scanning my site as you watch TV over the top of your computer monitor, while texting and listening to your iPod.
I exaggerate. It’s not quite that bad. But, truthfully, I do think I need to post more. And to that end, I’ve come up with a challenge for myself. I hereby declare next week “Euro Horror Week.” Over the course of the week, I will watch and review four European horror flicks. I will. No, really. In fact, I’ve already chosen them. I bought a Euro-horror DVD four-pack several years ago, called 