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25. Final Destination (2000)



26. The Gift (2000)



27. Don't Look Now (1973)

In the Name of the Father (1993)

55. SISTERS IN LEATHER (1969)

I love his documentary POM Wonderful Presents: The Greatest Movie Ever Sold

it's a documentary funded entirely by product placement about product placement

part 6 is the only one I enjoy. it's completely bonkers.

the rest I find a bit eh. was always a F13 guy...

I never liked 4 - really loved 1 and 3 as a 9-ish year old child. Having watched them since, I honestly think early adolescence is the sweet spot for Freddy Krueger. Kids can absorb all of the inherent goofy, schtickiness of the character and still feel legitimate fear at his insane homicidal behavior. Part 3 (though it has cool elements) really doesn't stand up as quality cinema, and even the original suffers from the inescapable jank factor that plagues all Wes Craven films. What the first one DOES have (and what most of them lack) is significant time spent with older adults, namely Nancy's parents. Seeing folks in their 40s experience anxiety over Freddy helps elevate his threat beyond the juvenile or trivial. I should revisit Part 7 again sometime too and see if Craven actually manages that trick a second time.

The Name of the Rose.

Two.

Father Mark Sheppard. Priest of St. Joseph Catholic Church, Boston, Mass.

The good father was conducting his regular Sunday early morning service. His congregation was made up of many of the citizens of Beacon Hill and the West End, mostly working-class people, but a few of his flock came from much wealthier stock. Not many, but enough to make him better off from his donations than most of his contemporaries in similar parishes. One of those very parishioners hung around after everyone else had left. He looked worried. As the priest walked over to ask the man what was wrong, he asked if he could speak to him in the confessional box. Leading the man over with sympathetic words, he showed him inside the box. "You can't tell anyone anything I say in here right Father? That's how it works isn't it? See I borrowed without permission a tiara from the Boston Maritime. I'm on the board there, and well I slipped a man some money to borrow something special for my wife. I had every intention of returning it, we just wanted to show off for the Paterson's annual. The thing he brought back, well it was gold and very striking, but too large for my wife head. We left it at home and the day after the ball, we realised it was missing, along with one of our servants. The man must have stolen it! Well, I am sure you understand that I can't exactly go to the police, and I can't risk going myself to get it. The man though, he was normally a very religious man from what I can tell. He'd only been in my employ for a week. He was always going on about God and how the second coming was near. I am sure if you went to speak to him, appeal to his better conscience that he'd return it to you. Look I'll even donate" the man went flicking through his wallet and pulled out a couple of pristine notes "$200 dollars if you'll go speak to the man. If you can get it back for me, I'll make a donation at least twice that to the church funds."

Father Sheppard had been trying to think of a way to gently turn the man down, but the sight of $200* could turn the head of even the most faithful man of the cloth. Sheppard swallowed hard and took the money pushed through the lattice of the confessional booth. "Where does this sinner stay. I am sure I can return him to the light of the lord."

Gratefully the man gave the priest the address he had for where his man worked. Father Sheppard had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't a bribe and the money would go a long way to carrying out the lords work.


*The exchange rate at this point of time was around $5 to the £1, so about £40 in old money for those from the UK.

The investigators:

One.

Betty Robertson. Ex Olympic Gold Medalist (Swimming) & Private Detective.

Betty sat in her run-down office in the bad area of town. Forlornly she looked over at a photo hanging on her well and remembered her glory days, bringing home her Olympic medal. Not for the first time she wished she could go back and relive those days. Whatever had made her think that she could parley her fame into becoming a successful private detective to the stars. Once she had fanfares and medals. Now she had overdue bills.

So. Many. Bills.

Her meagre savings were running low and she had no idea how she was going to pay her secretary at the end of the week. Men just didn't want to go to a female private detective. Not unless they were desperate. Her revere was interrupted as her office door slammed open and a man staggered in. "Well hello Mr Desperate" she thought. "Well hello there sweetheart" she asked flippantly. The man looked at her, panic crossing her face. Thinking she might have just lost a potential client she quickly changed her tone: "How can the Robertson Investigative Agency be of service to you today?"

The man spoke quickly, each word tumbling over the previous one like a faucet that once you turned it on, you couldn't stop. "I'm a relator. I just sold a house, but one of my competitors is out ta ruin me. I don't know which one it is, but every time I get a tenant in the house he drives them out. I tell ya, its killing my reputation. The previous buyers ended up in the nuthouse up at Roxbury. Some new guy has taken over the mortgage which I'd to let go at a fraction of its worth. He arrives in a week, but I need ya to go out there and find out whoever is trying to ruin me. I'm willing to pay you $20 a day, plus if you can make sure my new client won't be scared out of his new house I'll throw in a $100 bonus. You've got a week to complete the job. Whaddya say?"

"Throw in lunch and you've got a deal."

The man looked flustered and I knew I was in no position to bargain, but she needed all the dollars she could get. He twisted his hat in his hands and said "I can't afford any more than that, but..." The man rummaged through his pockets and drew out a crumpled handful of bills. "Here. Have $50 up front. Just find the guy who is doing this to me before he puts me out of business. Here is the address." He shoved a hastily scrawled card towards her. "My address is on the other side. Let me know when the job is done." With that, he turned and practically fled out of the office.

^ the NIGHTMARE films kinda lost steam for me real quick. In fact, not many slasher sequels are any good, with very few exceptions. Freddy went from scary, seldom seen child killer to a wisecracking buffon in the sequels.

I love the first one, 3 and 4