In the despicable, dirty and even depressing The Killer Snakes (that’s all the recommendation you need, right?), the saddest sad-sack character I may have ever seen in movie history works one dead-end job after another and sleeps in a shack with pornographic pictures taped to the ceiling over his bed. He gets bullied a lot … Continue reading The Killer Snakes (1975) →

In 1985, when I was a 14, all I wanted for Christmas was Stephen King’s Skeleton Crew, then fresh in hardback. I got it, and the cold winter nights were perfect for reading “The Mist,” the eerie first of 22 stories in the collection. But really, what were the Weinstein brothers thinking in releasing Frank … Continue reading The Mist (2007) →