I hate horror movies. If you asked me to explain, I’d probably offer all kinds of reasoned explanations as to why most straight-up “horror” films are generally lacking any merit, but I’ll cut the shit—I’m just easily frightened. I mean, I can take David Lynch-style spooks, but don’t give me plausible scenarios about men with chainsaws in woods that are eerily reminiscent of those in eastern Pennsylvania—that hits too close to home.
So let’s just say it took something extra for me to want to see My Bloody Valentine 3-D. Maybe it was that it’s a remake of the 1981 film that inspired the name of one of the finest bands in the past 20 years; maybe it was that 3-D glasses are involved; maybe it was the obvious camp à la Snakes on a Plane; or maybe it’s that I knew it was filmed in western Pennsylvania.
Whatever it was, I’m glad I went. From the moment I put on my Real-D Cinema Glasses (“Not safe for use as sunglasses”—damn, and I paid an extra $2 for these?) and sat through the fantastic previews—including one “horror” film that featured a lounge version of “Sweet Child O Mine” as its soundtrack and another that was memorably titled The Haunting in Connecticut—I enjoyed myself.
Let’s not get into what happened when the “there’s nothing like almost getting killed by your deranged pickaxe-wielding former-friend in a deserted mine to reignite the spark” thought ran through my head.
The trick, I learned, to get through a horror film, is that you have to detach yourself from the story—think about the cinematography, the process of making the film. It’s just a bunch of dudes dancing around in front of a camera! No need to get yourself flustered, Matt! That guy’s jaw didn’t actually fly towards the audience, it never even left the safety of the screen! And his jaw probably didn’t actually get ripped off by a pickaxe anyway, it’s just special effects! You know, like those ones in Field of Dreams where they make that young dude look old really fast? That’s right, it’s just like Field of Dreams. Find that happy place. You’re cool. It’s cool. We’re all Kool and the Gang here.
Speaking of that, the aging in MBV3D was pretty poorly done. I mean, after “10 years” Tom and Sarah looked like exactly the same people, but I’m pretty sure Axel and Irene moved into new bodies in that span. At least I know Irene’s wasn’t hiding inside a zip-up suit. Thanks murderous miner man!
I shouldn’t have brought that up. It’s 3 a.m. and just a few hours ago I watched a woman get split in half with a pickaxe—in 3-D! Where are those sleeping pills?
