October 10, 2017

Madman (1981)

Image result for madman 1982 vhs cover
Who among you 80s kids remembers seeing this cover in the video store?

I remember seeing the cover to this film displayed on the massive wall of VHS horror rentals in the 80s and, for some reason, I never rented it. So, when I saw it pop up in my Shudder feed last night, I thought I'd make up for having missed it in my childhood. Like, what if all of the bad things that have ever happened to me were just cosmic side effects of having not seen this movie as a kid? Couldn't hurt, right?


This movie is fucking terrible. But I enjoyed it. Not because it's good, it's terrible. But it's SO bad, and the dialogue is SO cheesy, and the direction is SO fathomless, and the prosthetic madman makeup is SO awful, and one of the girls has a lisp, and... 
...and I therefore couldn't help but to enjoy it. 

This movie has it all. First, we're at a camp. Wait, a camp? Is it a camp?? They never really say, but I think it's a camp. There are cabins and a campfire, but an upcoming Thanksgiving celebration is mentioned as well. And everyone is wearing a jacket. Who goes to camp in November?? Also, there are only like five kids there, and they're all different ages. Is this some sort of mutant training facility deep in the Pine Barrens? That would actually make a lot more sense than a random sleepaway camp in November.

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My favorite thing of all time is the love scene between camp counselors T.P. (yep, like toilet paper) and googly-eyed blond Betsy. It is the most bizarre and drawn-out love scene I've ever witnessed. The two participants aren't even touching each other, and maybe Betsy is looking at T.P., but it's hard to tell because of the aforementioned googly-eyes. She always gives off the appearance of looking past or through everyone she stares at. I'm not gonna lie, it's hilarious. The camera goes in for a close-up on each and every piece of clothing they remove. Betsy takes off her shirt, then T.P. takes off his; then Betsy removes her necklace, then T.P. takes off his belt; and so on and so on until they're finally as naked as little jay birds. Then they step into a bubbling hot tub and inexplicably just sort of randomly whirl and spin around in it. It makes absolutely not a goddamn lick of sense, and I laughed so hard I had to go and get my husband to show it to him. I whispered in his ear, "I want to show you something that's going to make you SO horny." When the scene was over, I asked, "Well?" He looked down at his crotch and said dryly, "Nothin'." Isn't the purpose of a love scene in an 80s horror film to make teenagers horny? If anything, I think my vagina might have crawled up into my ribcage, especially when they finally kiss and it's the driest, most boring, lamest, non-chemistry-having kiss you will ever see on celluloid. All of this wondrous lovemaking is accompanied by a somber and "sexy" ballad that - fun fact - is sung by the actor playing T.P. 

Fortunately, our good friend YouTube has provided the scene for us to enjoy. So... enjoy. 

Well? Did that make you horny? Or did your genitals retreat up into your torso? 

Other than Betsy and T.P., the other characters' names were lost to me. I'm sure they were mentioned several times, but I just didn't care enough to remember them, so my mind came up with alternatives as I was watching the film. What happened to Fro-Girl? Where's White Guy. Run, Lisp, run!!!

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From L to R: Fro-Girl, Freddy Mercury, Lisp, and White Guy

And, lastly, let's talk about the laughably awful prosthetic mask and fake, rubbery feet on the madman. Check out this hot mess...

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Guys, this movie is beyond horrible, but it's definitely worth watching with friends, right along with some drinking and riffing. If you're watching it because you fear it's absence in your childhood caused all the calamity that later befell you and it left a hole in your psyche, I'm afraid you're out of luck. No holes will be filled because of this movie. None. Not a single one. You get what I'm saying?

August 19, 2017

I'm a Podcaster Now!

Hey friends, I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while, but I have a really good excuse!
My husband and I started a horror and sci-fi podcast called
Popcorn and Pod People!!!

The podcast is available on iTunes and Soundcloud.
Please go have a listen, and visit our website at

Shoot me an email at popcornandpodpeople@gmail.com
and I'll read your letter on a future episode!
You can also email your mailing address to me and
I'll send you one of these fancy bumper stickers for free.

If you like what you hear, please leave a five-star review on iTunes to help others find us.

March 6, 2017

Good-Bye, Bill...

Guys and gals, I feel I must shed a tear for the passing of my blog-moniker's hero, Bill Paxton. His line from my all-time favorite movie, Aliens, is the reason for the title of this blog. "Stop your grinnin' and drop your linen." Not only is Paxton the only actor to be killed by the ultimate sci-fi trifecta - a Xenomorph, a Predator, and a Terminator, but he also hails from my great city of Fort Worth, TX. I once stood in the same room as him, less than ten feet away, and I was too much of a dork to say anything to him. Now I'll never get the chance again. Along with horror and sci-fi fans all over the world, I raise a glass of blue milk to you, Bill Paxton. You are one of the greats, and you will be greatly missed. "Now, for God's sake, will you cover yourself?!" 

February 20, 2017

'After Hours' Short Film (2016)

Before I get started, please allow me to issue an apology for my extended absence. Until yesterday my life was completely commandeered by the video game Skyrim. Yes, I'm a 44-year-old woman who plays Skyrim. Heard of it? If not, count yourself among the lucky. I devoted far too many hours of my daily life to it, and a monstrosity we referred to around here simply as "laundry mountain" was the result. Laundry mountain has been whittled down, though isn't completely gone, and I have actually started cooking for my family again. Did I finish the game? No. For, you see, the game is never finished. Therein lies the problem. I just had no other choice but to step away and reclaim my sanity. So here I am. It's good to see you again!

I'm starting my comeback with a spunky little short film called After Hours, written by Adam Weber, directed by Michael Aguiar, and starring Bill Oberst Jr. whom you may remember from the last short film I reviewed, Heir. The film clocks in at just a hint over 12 minutes. The story is simple, but well-defined. There isn't time to get mired down in backstory, though quite a bit can be implied in the characters' respective demeanors. Actor Bill Oberst Jr. is a strong talent, and carries the film well. In fact, all of the actors did a good job with their parts, but Oberst Jr. was the standout for me. I don't really want to get into the meat of the story since it's a short film and anything I tell you could be a potential spoiler. It's a quick who-dunnit with a surpise twist ending, an easygoing combination of slasher film and mystery-drama. My only criticism is that it dragged just a touch in the middle, but it was definitely enjoyable. After Hours is currently touring the film festival circuit and will soon be available to a wider audience. In the meantime, check out the trailer (embedded below) and keep an eye on their Facebook page for news!

Man, it feels good to be back.

September 12, 2016

All Four Jaws'es

You're gonna need a bigger blog!
(Hey-ohhh, sorry but I couldn't resist.)

I've been sick for a week - head and chest crud that just doesn't want to go away. And I've been thinking I should go to the doctor, but as sweet as my doctor is, she is notorious for throwing an antibiotic at literally every ailment. You have a rash? Here, take an antibiotic. Oh, your hair is thinning? An antibiotic will cure that. Broken toenail, you say? Take this Z-pack, it'll fix you right up. Then it's diarrhea for two weeks and, if you'll pardon this dose of reality, a scorching yeast infection. No thanks. I am seriously trying to get over this one on my own. Anyway, the point I'm making is that I've had a lot of down-time over the past week, and I've watched a crap-ton of movies. Poltergeist, Knock Knock, Paranormal Activity: The Ghost Dimension, to name a few (reviews on the latter two coming soon). I also watched - are you ready for this? - all four Jaws installments right in a row. For the first time in my entire 43 and a half years of life. It was so enlightening! As well as confusing... but I'll get to that. Here we go!

Let's start with Jaws, the first. Frankly, it's one of my favorite movies of all time, and to me it's just straight-up flawless. It really doesn't get any better than this. Sure, those deep-diving reviewers can find problems with it, and they just love to yap about the troubles on set. But I don't care about any of that. The movie is great! The characters are real, and relatable. Everyone knows a fearful but determined Chief Brody, everyone knows a neurotic, smart and irritatingly rich Hooper, and everyone knows a crotchety old crazy bastard like Quint, the asshole you can trust. I feel like all three of these people are somewhere in my personality (minus the rich part), and I can relate to them, which makes every scene of the film that much more enjoyable. Plus, a shark!

If you do not yet believe that I have a deep love for this film, 
I give you the following evidence:

Yes, friends. These are my cankles in my super-fancy, much-beloved Jaws topsiders. I had to have 'em! And when I live-tweeted Jaws with my Twitter pals a couple of weeks ago, I wore them proudly. 

I don't feel that I need to say anything more about Jaws. We've all seen it. I love it crazy-hard, it's amazingly good, and still holds up even in the age of CGI and ADD. I hate that Quint was eaten by his greatest fear and most tragic memory, but them's the breaks in horror films. So, I hereby dedicate this review to the memory of Quint, because he rocks.

Quint. All hail.

Also, this guy Harry rocks.
"That's some bad hat, Harry."

And, lastly, this guy Harbor Master Frank Silva rocks too.
I want Frank Silva's life. He just looks so happy with his pipe and crackers.

Now - off with the good, and on with the bad. This brings us to Jaws 2.

I can sit through some really boring movies (I liked Maggie, for Pete's sake!) but this one was just a snoozer. It starts off kind of cool, with two rich scuba jerks exploring the underwater wreckage of the Orca, Quint's boat from the first film, and taking stupid pictures. I was into it. Hey, look, there's the Orca! Neat! And then the rich guys get eaten, which was great. We were off to a good start. But then the actual story started, picking up with Brody and his wife and kids at some lame PR event, and it just landed onscreen like a wet fart. 

We have the much older Michael and Sean, Brody's boys, still disobeying their dad. Michael has clearly learned nothing from the first film. And apparently neither has the Amity mayor, who still refuses to close the beaches after a shark attack. It just feels silly and ridiculous. After the events of the first film, you'd think the mayor would hang on Brody's every word, but nope. 

The second set of deaths, a skiier and her boat driver, are kind of funny though, so at least we get a chuckle out of it. The skiier gets eaten, and then the boat driver, who easily could have just left the scene in her boat after she realized her skiier had become chum, decides to fight off the shark using a gas tank and a flare gun, which burns her alive (seriously, she's on water, can't she just jump off the boat and swim for it - she's only 20 yards from shore!). It's really the only time you see someone in a Jaws movie killed by their own ineptitude. At least the shark got a hot lunch. He also got a burned face from biting into the boat while it was on fire, and a bitchin' scar which I suppose was meant to make him look more menacing. But it doesn't. For some reason, this shark looks less realistic than the one from the first film, more foamy and less sharky. You'd think it'd be better, that they would work out any of the kinks from the first film, but nope. They weirdly get progressively worse and less realistic in each consecutive film. 

And Roy Scheider just phones it in - you can tell he doesn't want to be here doing this film. Also, there's no Dreyfuss at all this time, so that's balls. 

While Jaws 2 is generally considered the best of the Jaws sequels, I disagree. I put my money on Jaws 3-D as the best, if only for the corny effects and entertainment value. It's a laugh a minute. Plus, I like the background of the theme park, with it's zany cast of employees in colorful costumes, and it's nifty underwater tunnel. Plus, you get trained dolphins named Cindy and Sandy. What's not to love? 

A young Lea Thompson stars as one of the park's employees, who tries to seduce the now-adult Sean. And the adult Michael, played by Dennis Quaid, is now some kind of engineer, who works at the park, and is dating a sassy marine biologist played by Bess Armstrong, who you probably remember as the dorky mom in My So-Called Life. What?! And if that's not enough star power for ya, put Louis Gossett Jr. in your craw, because yep, he's in it too! 

Jaws 3-D also boasts what is easily the most ponderously terrible attack scene from any of the Jaws films. Behold for yourself in the following video clip - it's so bad it's good...

And now we've reached the final heaving rush of stinging diarrhea from the Jaws franchise, Jaws 4: The Revenge

The title implies that the shark is getting revenge on the remaining members of the Brody clan, which is really stupid because that original shark was blown to bits in the first film. Then the random Great White from the second film was electrocuted to bits. And the shark from the 3rd film, who was supposedly just getting back at the park employees for killing her baby, was killed. So, what the hell's the deal with this shark?! How could this shark possibly know that there are three Brodys left on earth to be eaten in an act of "personal" revenge. The premise just makes no goddamn sense on any level. And poor Sean, the youngest Brody, gets eaten right there in the first death scene. Sean has apparently taken over as Chief of the island, where his mom still lives. Why haven't they moved inland by now??! I mean, c'mon people. The beach is clearly not the place for you! 

Michael now has a family and is living in the Bahamas doing some kind of vague research on conch snails. Wasn't he like an engineer or something in the last movie?? So, he talks his grief-stricken mom, played once again by Lorraine Gary, into visiting his family and staying with them through the holidays. Fine, whatever. 

Lorraine Gary's look has really changed since the first film, to a disconcerting degree. She went from soft, sweet mom figure..

...to uber-angular 80s lady, complete with pointy haircut and sharp shoulder pads. Blech.

There's also some mild racism in this film, marking the only time you see a black character who actually fights the shark (and, naturally, dies). This one is so Bahamian he wears Dwayne-Wayne sunglasses, natty dreads, and a host of Bahama and Caribbean-themed shirts. It just kind of seems like overkill to me. I mean, look at this guy. "Look at 'im, mon!" I know I'm describing a Jamaican racist stereotype, and this character is from the Bahamas, and I realize it doesn't make sense. But talk to the director because this Bahamian acts Jamaican. It is sincerely beyond my understanding.

In the end, the shark gets killed and all of the white people swim happily home. Everything seems like it's going to be okay. But how could it be? We're technically on shark #5 in this movie. They just keep popping up! And they're apparently all born with the innate knowledge that there are specific people with the surname of Brody who just plain NEED to be eaten. So, how can everything be okay?? I'm telling you, it makes no effing sense at all. At the end of Jaws 4, the mom is smiling and laughing as she boards a plane to go back home. Back home, where her son was just eaten, where the sharks are clearly popping out of some magical shark-spawning cave. I don't get it. I just don't get it. Move to Oklahoma, dummies! 

But, if there's a Jaws 5, you better believe I'm gonna watch it. And I'm probably gonna need a bigger... no wait, smaller, brain. No problem - I drink a lot of coffee.

Until next time,
"Smile, you son of a bitch!"

September 2, 2016

Heir (2015)

Heir,  a Canadian-born short film from Fatal Pictures, funded via a Kickstarter campaign, was written and directed by Richard Powell, and produced by Zach Green. It's less than 14 minutes long, so I'm not going to go into great detail about the plot or post any spoilers. You'll just have to go check it out for yourself. It's still in post-production right now, but it will be available soon. In the meantime, you can go the Fatal Pictures website and check out some of their other short films. 

What I will say is that Heir does a good job of creating tension and curiosity for the viewer. The mix of ominous music and lighting, combined with some stellar practical effects, made for a gross-but-enjoyable little watch. It leaves you thinking about the film's metaphorical statement because there clearly is one. It isn't obvious at first glance, though. I had to read the director's statement to get the skinny on the subversive story's meaning. Go ahead and read it. It won't spoil the movie for you - in fact, I think it will make your viewing experience even more rife with tension, which is a good thing when you're watching spooky stuff.

Director's Statement: FATAL PICTURES' HEIR (2015),
Richard Powell
"HEIR is a monster movie unlike any other, it is a bleak and fantastical examination of one of societies darkest taboos that aims to stimulate the mind and wrench the gut with equal power. HEIR suggests that victimization through sexual abuse leads to mutation of the psyche, soul and in our film, flesh itself. As our film aims to examine the cycle of victimization it only makes sense to depict the various stages of victimization through a trio of characters; Father, Son and the Monster. Just as the Son represents the potential beginning of the cycle the monster reflects the dark and twisted ending and stuck between these two extremes is the father who is faced with a choice which may either break or continue the legacy he was unwillingly included in years ago in his own youth. HEIR is ultimately about the confrontation with that monster, literally and figuratively, which dwells in Gordon's mind and compels him to continue the chain of victimization. This film operates between the worlds of Drama and Horror and takes equally from both in terms of aesthetics, structure and style. As much as I'd like the audience to think about what they are seeing I want them to react viscerally to it as well and with that in mind we set out to create striking, often grotesque and extreme imagery which serves it's own purpose in addition to reinforcing the overall thesis of HEIR. I had originally intended to tell this story as a straight Drama with none of the fantastical Horror trappings. I thought a realistic version of this story would be more disturbing, truthful and effective but as I began to think about what this story really means I realized the metaphor I would end up employing tells a deeper truth despite the monster makeup and Argento-esque lighting. I realized the truest way to tackle the horrors of child abuse and victimization was to pull away the exterior of the human monsters who walk among us and expose the malignancy within. Any time I've been asked to describe HEIR I reply with a simple elevator pitch "They say that anyone who abuses a child is a monster, well what if they really were monsters?".

I also want to yawp a hearty "thank you" to Fatal Pictures for using practical effects (I've said it many times before and I'll say it again - CGI monsters are not scary!) and for hiring actors that are not only very good at what they do but also normal-looking people. I have a difficult time relating to way-too-beautiful-to-be-real actors and actresses in films, battling CGI monsters no less. I prefer characters that look like anyone I could know or meet on the street. It makes the whole thing feel more real and relatable. Are you listening, Hollyweird?!

This short film takes itself seriously and is well-done, yet also somehow manages to be fun. Keep your eyes out for a release date and give it a watch! Until then, here's a teaser trailer to keep you "hungry"...

June 24, 2016

Why Horror? (2014)

Why Horror? is a feature-length documentary by Tal Zimmerman, a lifelong horror fan who dares to ask why we all love horror films so much. (Are we sure we really want to know?) Are we crazy? Desperate for catharsis? Looking for a way to vicariously live out and watch our most violent fantasies via a movie screen? Turns out the answer, according to this documentary, is both none and all of these things. 

Through autobiographical interviews with Zimmerman's parents (who are quite charming), and home video footage of his childhood, he opens the doors to his obsessions, giving us a glimpse into the boyhood of a super horror fan. This really spoke to me, personally, because I was that kid too!

In addition to his own background, he provides interviews with industry royalty, such as George Romero and John Carpenter. The biggies! He also interviews myriad horror fans, directors, actors, collectors, convention visitors, and even a psychiatrist or two. And this guy goes deep, like way deep. He allows himself to be studied both in a research lab and in an MRI machine while watching horror clips. The results of both tests are somewhat underwhelming, but I do respect the effort.

My favorite part of the documentary was the 'Too Short History of Horror Films' montage he created. An animated Tal Zimmerman marches us from the silent films of the late 19th century to the Universal classics of the 50s, the Hammer films of the 60s, the slashers of the 70s and 80s, right up to today's horror hits and misses. He left out one of my favorite heroes in horror history, William Castle, but he did specify that his history montage was "too short" so I'm sure there were lots of greats that had to be cut to get to the point in a respectable amount of time. Vincent Price, anyone?

I also really, really love the respect he pays to women in the horror industry. For decades critics of horror have complained that it's too misogynistic, and I get where they're coming from. Looking at it from the outside in, one might think that women get the short end of the stick in all these films. But they're wrong! Isn't it always a woman who makes it to the end, the "final girl?" It's almost always a strong (though she rarely knows it), smart, crafty lady who kicks the bad guy in his crocuses and gets out alive. How's that for girl power? And I was shocked to learn from the documentary that 60% of horror viewers are women. So, there.

I hate to do it, but I have one criticism, and it's not a quality issue. It's just a personal preference. My least favorite thing about the film was the research into raucously depraved artwork from centuries past, like a painting of a dog getting an arrow rammed up it's butt. I get why he included this section, but to me this isn't horror, or even a precursor to it. This is something else entirely. Horror is entertaining, that was not. For lack of a better adjective, it's just icky.

Ultimately, what I took from this film was not an answer to the question, "Why horror?" but rather a renewed spirit for my love of horror, and an excitement to meet all of these kindred spirits who love weird, spooky movies as much as I do. It's all too easy to start feeling like an outcast and a freak when you are the only one in your peer group who likes these things. I'm a 43-year-old wife and mom, bibliophile and podcast junkie, who volunteers at church, and loves to cook. And I also happen to love horror films. Now I know I'm not so weird after all. Thanks, Tal!

November 2, 2015

The Two Carries

I know I'm late to this party - comparing the two Carries, the one from 1976 and the newer 2013 version. It's been done before, probably a lot. But I found the 2013 version of Carrie on Hulu this morning and, since I've seen the old one about eight zillion times, I automatically started to draw comparisons, not only to the films, but to my own life. Read on to see what I mean.

1. The Two Posters

Poster #1 tells a pretty distinct story: something happened to this chick at the prom and now she's covered in blood and looking deranged. While Poster #2 says: hey, look, a bloody girl. That's it. Also, the first poster uses proper grammar while the second does not... "You will know her name Carrie." What does that even mean? With the insertion of a comma it would have a totally weird meaning. "You will know her name, Carrie." Whose name will Carrie know?! Maybe it should have been a colon. "You will know her name: Carrie" or an elipses, "You will know her name... Carrie." I don't know, but the fact that I'm having to analyze the tagline for meaning doesn't work for me.

2. The Two Carries (Sissy vs. Chloe)

Sissy is a beautiful woman, but let's face it. Redheads look weird without makeup. I can say this because I am a redhead myself and I have the same wan complexion and lack of eyelash color that Sissy has, which is maybe why I identify with her so much better than I do with Chloe. Chloe Grace Moretz is adorable, a little too adorable to play the scorned Carrie White. In real life, Chloe's Carrie would just be a drama weirdo, but probably wouldn't be the subject of such intense ridicule and hatred, while Sissy's Carrie, who looks ghoulish and strange, would definitely be at the butt of some jokes. How do I know this? From experience! More than once as a child I was told, "I don't like your face, freak" and "You look like a ghost" by a member of the cooler class. When I was twelve, my mom and her cousin, Jackie, sat me down and forced me to learn how to apply makeup because "Even a new barn looks better with a coat of paint." Yes, really. That was said to twelve-year-old me, and I still to this day feel ugly when I go outside the house without makeup on. I do it, of course, because makeup is expensive and I'm not about to put it on to go pick up a prescription, but there's that voice of the Cold War-era Southern woman telling me never to leave the house without it, and shouldn't I just be embarrassed! But I digress. Sissy played her Carrie with a cringe-worthy awkwardness that made her almost hard to watch. Chloe's a good li'l actress, but she was clearly miscast in this film. She plays Carrie like a caricature, hyperbolic and overdone. There's no finesse to the performance, and unlike Sissy's, I just can't identify with it.

3. The Two Margaret Whites (Piper vs. Julianne)

I'm too lazy to look this up right now, but didn't Piper Laurie win an Oscar for this role? I think she did. Feel free to "pipe" in on Piper's win (or lack thereof) in the comments. Again, original Carrie's Piper takes the win for me. Julianne Moore is amazing, and she plays the character wonderfully, but I feel that the direction she was given led her to be more menacing than the original mother. Piper played Margaret White with such a deranged glee that it made her just so, so creepy! She smiles as she lunges in to stab her daughter. There's no regret, apology or fear there, just happiness in the knowledge that she's doing the Lord's work. And that is terrifying!

4. The Two Sue Snells (Amy vs. Gabriella)

I liked both Sues. I really did. I thought they both turned in good performances. As with most newer films, the actors are all just a little too perfect for my liking. So, I tend to lean toward Amy Irving's Sue when casting a final vote. And there was a sense that she actually really cared about what happened to Carrie, and wanted to make amends, while Gabriella's Sue is just a touch more distant. But, in the grand scheme of things, both were good.

5. The Two Tommys (William vs. Ansel)

This one's a toughie, because I love William Katt and can sing the entire theme song to Greatest American Hero. But I am also one of those creepy forty-something women who thinks Ansel Elgort is adorable. If I were eighteen again I'd have his Teen Beat posters all over my wall. Is Teen Beat even still around?? Anyway, it's hard. I feel like William Katt gave a nice, albeit corny, performance. And Ansel was his usual adorable self, so it's super hard to cut up anything he does. And I loved the nod Ansel gave to William during the prom-prep montage, where he stopped and looked at himself in the mirror of a tuxedo shop, sporting a ruffly dress shirt and bowtie. I can't pick a winner here - I love them both!

6. The Two Chris'es (Nancy vs. Portia)

Nancy. No contest. When she licks her lips right before she pulls the rope to release the blood, you just know she's a total sociopath. 

7. The Two Whatever-Her-Name-Is'es (P.J. Soles vs.......)

P. J. Soles vs. No-one because P. J. Soles is the queen of everything! I can't even put her up against the actress who played her role in the newer movie, because I just love her so much I'm blind to imitators. You rock, P. J. Soles. You are my hero. I would hang your Teen Beat posters too, just because I want to study and mimic your awesomeness.

8. The Two Gym Teachers (Betty vs. Judy)

I'm giving this one to Betty Buckley, not only because she was raised (and her mom still lives) in the city from which I currently hail, but also because she added a real tenderness to the role that Judy Greer just didn't manage to pull off. 

Don't get me wrong - I love Judy Greer. She's hilarious in everything, because she's a friggin' comedian! She straight-up doesn't belong in this movie. When she says, "You did a shitty thing, a really shitty thing" to the girls on the football field, it feels like she's just phoning it in. But Betty's coach is really pissed and you can tell! There's a genuine sense of dread from the girls in that scene. 

I can imagine being on that field, knowing I'd done something completely idiotic, and knowing that hell was about to be paid because Satan himself was standing right in front of me barking orders. 

9. The Two Proms (DePalma vs. Peirce)

Both prom sequences have their positives, but the original has so much more finesse, and just genuine creepiness to it. There's something to be said for watching William Katt mutter "What the hell?!" but not being able to hear it versus actually hearing the words come out of Ansel Elgort's mouth. The cool thing about the Katt version is that the silence of the scene puts you right inside Carrie's brain. She doesn't hear squat until the laughter of her peers tunnels into her ears all at once and makes her lose it. Plus, you get this awesome split-screen thing.

Carrie's pissed and nobody's getting out of that gym in one piece. The most ingenious thing behind this original 1976 scene is that you are actually rooting for Carrie. Yeah, eff 'em! They all laughed at you and now they get their comeuppance. You don't so much feel that way for the new Carrie. 

Plus, the original has this iconic stage-fire eruption scene that trumps every competitor!

In the new Carrie, you get this...

Fire doesn't so much erupt as it just gets awkwardly flung. In fact, there's a lot of awkwardness to Chloe's final showdown in the new Carrie - it's like she didn't quite know what to do with her arms and face. 

While Sissy knew exactly what to do with her arms and face. Nothing! The only thing that moves is her head when she whips it back and forth to cause mayhem, and then her feet as she walks out of the gym. It's amazing and it totally works!

No weird facial expression here. Just a wide-eyed trance face, expressing nothing. It's so perfect.

I think it's obvious that we have a clear winner here. And, no, Carrie didn't vote for herself. If you've seen either movie, you know she's not into that and only does it under duress. Therefore, I crown thee the superior winner and queen of the Carries.... CARRIE 1976!