cafenowhere: filled coffee cup surrounded by coffee beans and packets of sugar labeled WTF (Default)
The other night I noticed that Netflix has Insidious: The Red Door available and I'm still searching for horror movies, so I considered watching it. The only thing was, I couldn't remember if I'd seen the first Insidious and I didn't want to watch a sequel if I didn't remember the original. So I looked up the movie and realized I'd been mistaking Insidious, which I'd never watched, for Sinister, another one-word-title horror movie. I remember Sinister well, except for it's name apparently, because it starred Ethan Hawke as a writer (as imagined by Hollywood, so completely unrealistic) and the kills were...unlikely, I'll say.

While figuring this out, I realized that The Red Door is the FOURTH movie in a franchise. The second Insidious movie picks up right where the first one leaves off (with Jenna Ortega in a tiny role; that girl is in all the horror movies lately VIVA LA RAZA!). The third film seems to abandon the original characters while keeping the general premise. And the fourth film returns to (at least some of) the original characters. Of course, I could not start with the FOURTH movie in a franchise, so I watched both one and two. The cast includes two ghost hunter types in addition to a medium. I cannot stand ghost hunting tv shows and these guys were definitely in that mold, rather than modeled after, say, the paranormal investigators in Poltergeist or, ten years earlier, The Haunting of Hell House. The only ghost hunters I have any chill for are the Ghostfacers in Supernatural, who proved "Gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day."

There are some nice callbacks to the original in the second Insidious. It makes sense that this installment is called Chapter 2. But I'm unsure that those moments of "oh, that's what was happening" are enough to offset the extremely tedious nature of the sequel. There's flashbacks and recaps to orient the new viewer, but ***SPOILERS FOR  A 13-YEAR-OLD MOVIE***there's also a duality to the original--what happened to the son also happened to the father when he was a child--that feels stretched too thin for a whole 'nother movie. To verve it up, a serial killer is tossed into the mix, which gives the characters an excuse to explore an abandoned hospital and a different haunted house.

That was something interesting to me--all these haunted houses were multi-story, forcing characters to run up and down the stairs to check on children or investigate ghostly activities. It's unclear how the family of five, relying solely on the father's salary as a public school teacher, could even afford such houses. (Or how two single mothers, each with a single child, both ended up in mansions.) So many floors, so many doors, so many hiding places. That makes for a good horror movie--all the built-in jump scares--but it also makes me wonder why in so many movies, being haunted is an affliction of the affluent, who are presented as being middle class. It's like punishment: "What do you expect, with all those rooms?" There's also a suggestion of history in these big houses, but for the main family at the heart of the story, the ghosts are "imported", not linked to the house itself. So it's other people's history that haunts. It reminds me of what Dr. Kinitra Brooks said at Sirens in 2021 about how the flood of Evil Character redemptions arcs trends alongside white guilt.

Watching the preview of Insidious: The Red Door that plays when one's  noodling around Netflix gives me the impression that this sequel also relies on a lot of retelling. Frankly I'm not invested enough to continue the Insidious marathon.

cafenowhere: filled coffee cup surrounded by coffee beans and packets of sugar labeled WTF (Default)

This weekend José and I attended a progressive poetry reading. It’s kind of like a bar crawl, but instead of bars, you move from one poetry reading to the next. The readings were held outside a neighborhood bakery, on someone’s front lawn, in a backyard, and the like. I was delighted when one poet read a poem published by Strange Horizons. I must have yipped or gasped audibly because the poet smiled and said, “Yes, we love Strange Horizons.” It’s always a surprise when my literary circle and SFF circle overlap.

It was a little chilly to be sitting outside, so J and I only went to three of the spots. We made sure to attend the reading where a colleague of J’s was a participant. That colleague tends to write speculative poetry but I think he exclusively submits to literary markets. In any case, he read a newer piece he’d told us about at a Latinx Council dinner. It was about a scorpion that wanted to marry a shoe. Another poet shared a piece about wanting to hold a goose, which had a response delivered by her boyfriend, that demanded the goose back off, he wouldn’t let a bird steal his girlfriend. It’s unfortunate the third poet didn’t continue the animal theme.

Last week, I watched Infinity Pool, directed by Brandon Cronenberg. I was disappointed. The premise is an interesting one: what if you could create a doppelganger of yourself that would take the punishments, endure the consequences, of your bad actions? Unfortunately, the only sane character quickly exits the experiment, leaving you no one to root for. Also, the protagonist’s devolution includes drug use, which led to too many “trippy” scenes of sensory distortion and sexual antics/fantasies. They were so tedious. I think Brandon Cronenberg’s made three films. Antiviral left me cold, but I really liked Possessor. Now this. I guess his work is hit-or-miss for me.

Right now I’m reading Shiny Things: Reflective Surfaces and Their Mixed Meanings. It is fascinating. The authors discuss how shininess can indicate wealth, power, and transcendence or it can signal that something is cheap, ubiquitous, and tacky. Shininess is disruptive, because it dematerializes the surface of a thing so we stop looking at it and begin looking into it. There’s a whole section devoted to Dutch Golden Age art and the worshipful (fetishistic) representation of various forms of shine. The section I just finished reading talks about how smudges, though common on shiny objects, are rarely if ever portrayed in art (big, if true) and just how hard it is to depict a smudge as intentional. “The central issue of depiction is that a smudge on a shiny surface is a disruption on an already disrupted form.” I love thinking about this stuff.  

What did you do this weekend? Seen any good movies recently?


cafenowhere: shape of owl formed from a pile of coffee beans with two cups full of coffee as the eyes (owl made of coffee)
I didn't intend to be on any panels at WisCon, but then I saw they needed more panelists for "Goncharov and Other Collaborative Public Art." By no means am I an expert on the topic of "the greatest mafia movie ever made," but I think this is a fascinating phenomenon and a great opportunity to talk about other public art collaborations. We need more panelists to make this panel happen, so if you're interested please let me know! Also, please spread the word! 

cafenowhere: envelope with heart on it clipped to a clothesline (love envelope)
I can barely believe that Valentine's Day was earlier this week. Already it feels like forever ago. I guess that's what happens when you're busy.

José has always been enthusiastic about Valentine's Day. This year, he took the day off without telling me, although he made clear that if *I* wanted to work, I was free to do so without interruption. Which I did. (We both work from home.) He brought us fancy doughnuts for breakfast, gave us cards, gave me a beautiful flower arrangement and a box of chocolates, and made a special dinner. I don't know how he can stand me, as each year it's a struggle for me just to get him a card on time. 

Yesterday it snowed quite heavily. The weather report said we got ten and a half inches of snow, but I think it was closer to a foot. That's how high it was stacked on my patio table. Today was below freezing, but the sun was bright, so now we have icicles hanging from the eaves. This weekend it's supposed to be warmer, so we may see some melting then. That would be good, since our driveway and road are still snow-covered, though José shoveled and the city plowed, respectively.

Workwise, I finalized my picks from the Strange Horizons submissions pile, and I've already gotten signed contracts back from some of the poets. I posted my weekly poem recommendation on Patreon, and last week's book review is now available to the public. I broke 30K on the novel and feel pretty good about where I am. I'm looking forward to tackling a pivotal scene next week, a conversation between the protagonist and a person from her grim past. Hopefully over the weekend I can finish reading Duende by Tracy K. Smith. It includes the poem "Flores Woman," which I recommended on my Patreon a while back. It's been very hard to finish reading any poetry collection while I was also reading for Strange Horizons, but now that I'm in a different stage of editing, maybe I'll get my brain back.

I'm still watching Hot Skull, but I took a break to see the movie Piggy, a Spanish horror flick I've been aching to see for maybe a year now? I'm so glad Hulu picked it up. It's such a neat play on slasher-movie tropes, and I appreciated the fat protagonist. Her weight was crucial to the storyline, but I didn't feel like the director was judgmental about it. Of course there are the obnoxious popular girls who tease the protagonist relentlessly, but their behavior never felt endorsed by the movie and, boy, there are consequences. I might watch it again this weekend.
 

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