Haunting

Well, it's my very favorite time of year, horror movie season, as Halloween draws ever closer. For a horror movie junkie, you just can't beat Halloween. Although I would like to point out to the Scyfy channel that torture week is not the same as scary week, enough with the Saw movies. Also, Timber falls and all the rest of that crap that's about maniacal people who get their jollies torturing others.

I can find that on CNN, when I want to be entertained, I like to suspend reality. Start suspending.

Anyway, I saw a really entertaining movie last night, and I thought I would review it for you. It's called Ghost Town and foolishly, I thought it might be about ghosts. Well, it is in a way, but oy vey, what a twist!

Here's the thing. It's about a group of people fighting the vengeful ghosts of satanists using wicca. Neat trick. Apparently research did not provide the information that Wiccans don't believe in satan, they consider him a Judeo-Christian myth, a corruption of Cerranos (No, I can't spell that, the guy with antlers) or sometimes Pan, a satyr. So it escapes me somewhat why they would want to fight some satanic ghosts.

Also, the story started in 1850 or so in the Old West and Wicca was not actually invented until the 1920's or 30's in Great Britain. And before you bind me with some white ribbon--or, if you are a pantheist, curse me all to hell and gone, be advised that you're not the only one with power and curses come home to roost.

So leave the Crone alone. You have been warned.

Then, after you're done burning that incense, partaking of cakes and wine, sprinkling the sea salt around and enjoying some of that fine candle magic, just burn the parchment with my name on it and head off to the library where you can research Raymond Buckland and get a whole new perspective on your "old" religion.

So, anyway, back to the movie, where some college kids who were returning on a bus from a Hockey game/debate match, get stranded in Hope Springs, which is not only a cute play on words but--in a tip of the hat to Brigadoon--only appears once every thirteen years.

It seems the satanists failed to read the fine print in their contract regarding the exact definition of "immortality" and that's how they exist now. Twelve years in the Hell the Wiccans don't believe in, followed by 24 hours in which they get to kill anyone who wanders in. Not exactly something one would sell his soul for, but then, apparently Buckland himself wasn't averse, so, go figure.

The Nice Girl who lost the debate, thus incurring the hatred of her teammates, is (but, naturally) the daughter of a practicing Wiccan (Can I get a "no more the burning times!"? Which, incidentally is the "Hallelujah" of Wicca). And so she leads them all to the miraculous symbols of pentagram and ankh--so original, these Wiccans, borrowing from other cultures like that--and there is much killing and treasure hunting as we look for the symbols to mark the pentacle.

Interestingly, you can kill a ghost, you just have to use a rifle or other weapon from the time he was alive. And, while ghosts can walk through walls, they are defeated by the bank vault because it is thick. Too thick for a ghost to float through, density apparently being a factor in the afterlife.

I don't know how it ends, after awhile I just couldn't quit obsessing over the errors and so was not able to suspend belief in reality long enough to finish the movie. I do know the coach gets buried alive in an old west casket made of barn boards, but surprisingly solid after all those years. And some people end up hung on the back of the barn door, but no one notices either the weight of the bodies, the dripping blood or the glimpses of the corpses through the gaps in the board while closing the doors.

Singularly unobservant, these folks. Personally, I would have made the kids stay on the bus while the hockey coach hiked to the nearest town to find a phone. Or--even better--I would not have made the mistake of thinking that a bunch of hockey players in college would be physically unable to make the four mile hike back to the last town, I would have instructed them to each grab a debate geek as a buddy and set out.

What I would NOT have done is assume young, healthy college students were in worse shape than the 50 year old coach, unable to stand the cold on a hike, but perfectly able to endure it in an old saloon full of whiskey, and afraid of the dark but able to brave sequential murders of their friends, one by one by one.

Face it, we would have all grabbed a bottle of whiskey, grabbed a geek and been three miles down the road, pleasantly intoxicated before the first ten minutes were up. No one would have died and unprotected drunken sex would be the worst thing that happened.

As a movie, I realize that's not much, but as a reasonable scenario, it listens.

So, anyway, check it out. It's no worse than that Hills have Eyes movie, and you already know how I felt about that. I think I'll just go read some Stephen King. Now there's a guy who can tell a story.