My girlfriend and I have taken to watching terrible horror movies, most of them from that terrible decade, the 1980s, as an excuse to avoid going outside.
So far we’ve watched two “A Nightmare on Elm Street” flicks and to lend legitimacy to this horror excursion, we checked out the original “Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” a classic from the 1970s.
I had largely given up on horror movies following an unfortunate viewing of the remake of “Last House on the Left,” with my friend and his wife, during which we were treated to an absolutely horrifying, three- or four-minute long rape scene. Once the movie ended, I stood up, nodded at my friends and left in silence. Our relationship was never the same.
I’m not sure what demographic finds rape scenes entertaining, and to be quite honest, I’d avoid those people if I knew who they were. Not as bad as rape scenes, but equally bizarre as an entertainment option is the ubiquitous use of torture in the horror movies of this century. Movies like “Saw” and “Hostile” that seem to be about innocent people suffering. Who finds that fun?
I want my horror movies chock full of annoying teenagers played by 25-year-old actors who you won’t mind watching die in a myriad of gruesome yet unintentionally funny ways. I want buckets of blood thrown at walls. I want gratuitous breasts. I’m totally fine with sexual congress leading to inevitable death, but I want the sex giggly and 100 percent consensual.
It could be argued that the death that accompanies sex in horror movies is a comment on the puritanical way Americans view sex, but that is an argument for someone scholary. I just want to avoid the sun.
Anyway, watch these terrible, awful movies, please.
This glistening terd can’t decide if it wants to be a haunted house movie or a slasher flick. A family inherits a haunted house and is immediately terrorized by a cheesy band of punk rockers. The ghost of the dead actor comes to the family’s aid. The inept cops, inadvertent sexual tension between the brother and sister leads and sex electrocution make this a bad movie for the ages.
There is grainy surveillance video of gas station robberies with better production values. A nerd named Marty is humiliated and eventually burned for no apparent reason by a group of sadistic popular kids. He lures them all back to the high school for a reunion and picks them off one by one. Did I mention sex electrocution. This movie has it, too.
Farmer Vincent Smith (Rory Calhoun) who abducts people, removes their vocal chords and plants them into his garden for later harvesting and inclusion in his famous “smoked meats.” This movie is awesome. It’s cheeky fun and the scariest thing about it was learning my grandmother was a fan. Thanks, mom.