Can you guess what movie or TV show we’re watching? We’ve turned on subtitles (when available) not to give you a clue, but to enhance that WTF effect! Leave your best guess in the comments to prove your true Flick Attackosity!
The Headless Ghost (1959)
Producer Herman Cohen is perhaps best known for the 1957 one-two punch of I Was a Teenage Werewolf and Teenage Frankenstein, so he continued to ride the wave of teen-oriented horror as far as it would take him, which is about 15 minutes into The Headless Ghost.
The British pic focuses on three collegians — two debate team-looking dweebs and one meh Swedish girl whose boobs are so pointy, it wouldn’t surprise me if the brand of her bra were Isosceles — touring a supposed haunted castle. And it is, which they discover when they hide ever-so-sneakily past closing.
Then and only then do the spirits of the royalty leap from their paintings and converse with them. One of the ghosts is — and, oh, I do so hope the title of the film didn’t spoil this for you! — without a head. In order to bust an ancient curse wide open, he sure could use that noggin. The payoff scene finds the headless body running around like a loon as his melon hovers overhead.
The whole thing is over in an hour, yet you won’t remember much past the cartoon credits and a hot bit o’ belly dancin’. Harmless but hopeless, it’s one of those things that sets out to “wacky” and makes corny jokes. You half expect it to be laden with on-screen sound effects like ye olde Batman TV show. Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. —Rod Lott
Spring Break (1983)
Thanks to its status as a perennial late-night movie during the ’80s and early ’90s, I’ve probably seen Sean Cunningham’s Spring Break at least six or seven times during the course of my life. But despite the number of times I’ve seen it, I’m still hard-pressed to tell you what it’s actually about.
Here’s what I can remember: There are two dorks (David Knell and Perry Lang) and two non-dorks (Paul Land and Steve Bassett). The two dorks have a room at a hotel that’s fully booked, and the non-dorks don’t, so they convince the dorks to let them stay in their room in exchange for letting them hang out with them and enjoy their non-dorky adventures.
One of the dorks has an important father, so there’s some concern that he shouldn’t be spring breaking and possibly ruin his father’s image, and one of the non-dorks falls in love with the really hot singer (Corrine Alphen) of an all-girl rock band (whose presence in the film is the only reason I’ve watched this movie as many times as I have).
Cunningham’s refusal to abide such narrative conventions as character and plot would be forgivable if he presented us with an entertaining representation of the event his film was made to celebrate, but even here, he holds back, giving us a lame spring break most of us would bitch miserably about if we had lived through it ourselves.
Subdued and tame when it should be wild and raucous, there is — as I’ve already mentioned — only one reason to party during this Spring Break and I’ve thoughtfully compiled the following video to save you the time and effort of having to experience the rest. —Allan Mott
Open Water (2004)
Stressed out? Watching Open Water will not help. Hyped as Jaws meets The Blair Witch Project, the micro-budget, shot-on-video shark flick sports a unique concept in that most of it takes place in one location: the middle of the ocean.
Cute couple Blanchard Ryan and Daniel Travis seek an escape from their hectic lives by taking an impromptu vacation, part of which entails scuba diving in the deep blue sea. But when their boat miscalculates the head count and leaves for shore without them, the two quickly realize their trip is on a fast-track toward hell. With nothing but horizon surrounding them, the duo tries to cling to the hope that they will be rescued before they dehydrate or, worse, turn into chum.
I wasn’t sure if the movie was going to work, because Ryan and Travis didn’t seem like they were doing acting. Then I realized that’s the point: This is shot in a quasi-documentary style, with fly-on-the-wall glimpses into this couple’s ordinary life. It’s supposed to feel real, rather than theatrical, and does.
But how can watching two people bobbing in the water for an hour not get boring? Their conversations are just compelling enough in an oh-shit-now-what fashion to keep your attention, and you never know when a shark is going to pop up (mostly because the stars were surrounded by real ones, who don’t take direction).
I wouldn’t say Open Water is harrowing, but toward the end, it’s tense and nerve-racking, especially in a late-night scene in which the screen is completely black, and you only catch glimpses of what’s going on when lightning flashes. Once more, it’s what you don’t see that can frighten you the most. Expect a riveting action film and you’ll be disappointed; expect a low-key character study and you won’t. —Rod Lott
Mazes and Monsters (1982)
Quick show of hands: How many people reading this are demented serial killers? One? Two? Six? It’s hard to say, but if we went by the sensational news reports that frequently aired during the ’80s, then all of us should have firsthand knowledge of the sound a puppy makes when you boil it alive. This is because we grew up watching horror movies and that way — so these reports claimed — inevitably led to mental illness and murder.
If you are a teenager having fun, someone somewhere is making money explaining to concerned parents how the activity you’re enjoying is going to rob you of your sanity and turn you into a demented maniac (or at least someone who doesn’t get into a good college). And chances are someone is going to eventually exploit this concern in a terrible made-for-TV movie. Which brings us to Mazes and Monsters.
In this early Tom Hanks vehicle, the threat to humanity is LARPing (or live-action role playing for those of you who have robust social lives or haven’t seen Role Models). Hanks plays Robby, a troubled college student who joins three other students to play the Dungeons & Dragons-esque title game, only to lose his ability to tell fantasy from reality when they take the game out of the dorm room and into the real world.
The script is as ridiculously overwrought as its plot suggests and eschews any semblance of subtlety in favor of in-your-face obviousness, usually to inadvertently hilarious effect. The gaming equivalent of Reefer Madness, it’s the kind of film you should watch if only to remind you that as crazy and dangerous as the kids may seem today, they’re going to eventually grow up to be as boring and normal as we are now. —Allan Mott