Mid-weekend update: Tattoo fever!

So. As many of you may know, I have a single tattoo. Some of you may even have seen it. Well, I'm in the market for .... well, frankly, at least 7 more. I have a number of ideas, though no clear ones. Except for this one: I watched Strictly Ballroom again today, and remembered how much I'd like a tattoo of the phrase, "A life lived in fear is a life half-lived". My problems are these: I need to figure out where to put it, and if necessary, how to split the line; I need to figure out if I want it in English or as in the film ("Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias", although I'm pretty sure I'll go with English); and I need a font.

I spent several hours online today searching fonts, and I found a few that could work. I think my favorite thus far is this one. It's not too fancy but not too plain, it's legible, and it's light. It looks pretty in English and in Spanish. It's very much akin to handwriting, which I like; I have considered an Edwardian script or something like it, but I'm not sure I want something that ... neat. I think I'd prefer it a little messy, a little imperfect, kind of like life. I also liked this one, which is a bit cleaner (though still a little pitted), yet kind of old-fashioned, like something you'd find in a sailor's diary from the mid-18th century. I sort of liked this one, but the more I look at it, the more it reminds me too much, I think, of those greeting cards that are supposed to be real emotions, or something. I don't know. Too Hallmark-esque, I think. I looked at a bunch of the "Gothic" styles, but they're very heavy, and I don't think they work with the sentiment. Naturally, I've thought about using my own handwriting, but I don't know that I like it well enough to wear it forever on my body, or if it's the style that I want. I'm not particularly artistic like that. I also need to decide if I actually want to capitalize all the words (i.e. A Life Lived in Fear is a Life Half Lived), or stick with lowercase; I like the idea of capitalizing for fancier-ness, but it's not terribly realistic. On the other hand, who the hell needs "realistic" in a tattoo? And what does that even mean?

As for location, oh dear. That's why it took me until I was 35 to get my first one: deciding where to put it. I wound up deciding on lower back (yeah, I know, shut up) because it's easily covered up (no, it really is; only girls that wear hooker clothes can't keep it covered, and I don't wear hooker clothes. Often). I am thinking of down my side, but closer to my armpit or closer to my hip? I am also considering my upper back, right below my neck, which would then necessitate a split. How would I split the line then? A life lived in fear/is a life half lived, or A life lived in fear is a/life half lived? I feel like it would be too ...even the first way. Unless I have the top line start a bit to the left of center and the bottom line a bit to the right. I'm not completely against the even way, I'm just not sure. Another option, and one I love, is the inside of my forearm, though I wear a lot of short sleeved/sleeveless items in the summer. Do I care that much? I'm not sure. If I did this, it would go from elbow to wrist, I do know that much. I could also do it on the top of my foot, somehow, though I don't know how I would work that. I could also do it in a spiral, but I think I like that idea less. I thought of doing it around my ankle, like an anklet, but I think I'm pretty "feh" on that one. Also, I don't think the handwriting-y font would work that way. It'd have to be something neater and more even. I think the font depends in part on the location, generally; like if I were to put it down my side, I'd go with the first one I linked above, while on my forearm, I think I'd be more likely to choose the second. I'd also more likely choose lowercase lettering on my forearm, but capitalization down my side.

So, as you can see, I probably won't be getting this for a while. Clearly I'm not ready yet. I'd kind of like to make these decisions, though, so that I'm prepared should the opportunity arise for me to get it. And I'd like the opportunity to arise soon. Meanwhile, help a girl out! Thoughts? Suggestions? Ideas? Despise one, or all, of the ones I've come up with? By all means, weigh in! There are sure to be pictures once I finally do it. If that's, y'know, an incentive for ya.

Wednesday, Wednesday! Can't trust that day!

...sorry. I started thinking, "Wednesday, Wednesday" and that song just popped into my head, even though it makes no sense. There is nothing untrustworthy about Wednesday. I guess that's why the song is actually called "Monday, Monday"... Monday is a far less trustworthy day.

Well, here I am on No Whining Wednesday, sitting on my bum at home doing NOTHING. That's right, nothing. I'm on vacation, you see! Which, by the way, makes it much easier not to whine. Right now, I'm about to put some Alias season 1 in the DVD (hey, Evil Initiative Maggie from s4 Buffy is in this episode! And, really? There's a 'prophecy' story arc?) while I do some much needed organizing in the living room. Then, I'll mosey on into town and get meself a delicious lunch of Crab Rangoon. Then, it's on to tonight's Group Virtual Movie Date Night: Showgirls Edition! This movie contains some of the finest acting ever committed to celluloid, not to mention the sexiest sex scene ever filmed (the phrase "epileptic shark" has been used). And some of these people have never even seen it! I cannot even imagine my life without it. I'm so excited to share it with more poor, unfortunate suckers unbelievers.

Elsewhere in =me= news, it turns out I got an A in that Anthro class. I can only assume the Professor curved the grades, because going by the numbers, I most definitely had a B. How much of a school nerd am I that it completely made me high to see that A show up in the final grades? Like, seriously, ridiculously happy. Like texting my friends, doing a little dance around the living room happy. Oh, and that reminds me: I got all the books I need for one of my classes (Films & Literature; the books are The Virgin Suicides, Ragtime, Revolutionary Road, and The Color Purple (I already have Heart of Darkness)), and I am going to swing by the school tomorrow to pick up the one for my other class (Film as a Medium). I'm also ridiculously happy to be taking some film classes. I haven't taken one in ages (and I'm pretty sure I mentioned this a couple of weeks ago, but like I said, ridiculously happy). Yay for vacation!

Wait, what?! James Bond is in this show?! Amy Irving, QT... EVERYBODY is in this show! Awesomesauce! Hooray for #NoWhiningWednesday!

Maggots, Michael. You're eating maggots.

In the hormone-addled summer of my sixteenth year, a movie was released tickled my funny bone as much as it did my naughty bits. It had music that spoke to me, and hot boys, and vampires, and hot vampire boys. That movie was The Lost Boys.

Recently, I was re-watching this old gem and thought it was ripe for a real-time review. In case you're unfamiliar with the concept, it kind of works like an MST3k-ing (and if you don't know what that is, I don't think I want you reading my blog. Get out.). And so, I re-watched it (again) and recorded my thoughts as it unfolded before me. (*disclaimer: I may or may not have been drinking wine as I was recording my thoughts, so if at any point I appear to be drunk, it's probably because I am. For the same reason, times are kind of approximate-ish. Also, I've never done this sort of thing before.) Also: Just in case you have somehow managed to miss this movie in the intervening 22 years, here is your SPOILER WARNING. Though, I mean, really, do you need it? If you do, I reiterate: Get out.

The film opens with a bird's- (bat's- ? Birds don't see very well at night, so probably it's a bat. Plus, vampire movie) eye view of a flight over water. I don't know what that means, but it's repeated several times throughout the film, so I'm sure it's very deeply symbolic. The bat swoops down to the boardwalk, checking out all these people who are all working some seriously fantastic 80s hair. He doesn't get stuck in it, amazingly, and flies on over to the carousel, where we see our vampire gang (mmmm, young Kiefer) for the first time. They get confronted by a poor, doomed security guard, who's only thinking of the children. Anyway, shortly thereafter, he bites it walking to his car in the parking lot. *That'll* teach him. Then, magic! it's daytime, with another over-water flight view. Which is kind of funny, really, because the central family is moving from Arizona to California. And they're driving.

4:05 - Lucy Emerson (Dianne Wiest) and sons Michael (Jason Patric) and Sam (Corey Haim) are driving down down the road, and pass a billboard for Santa Carla, their new home. On the back, someone has spray-painted: "Vampire capital of the world". That sure doesn't bode well, huh? Also, what is with all the damn vampires living in the state known as 'Sunny California'? Also also, Echo and the Bunnymen cover of "People Are Strange".

5:20 - Uh oh! Mexicans!

5:40 - Uh oh! Hippies!

6:10 - Ooh, Michael has a sweet hog. That'll come in handy later if, say, he wants to join a vampire gang and impress them with his mad motorcycling skillz.

7:45 - Sam: "You know what it means when there's no TV? No *M*TV." Aw, remember when MTV was relevant?

8:30 - "Ruuuuuules! We got some ruuules around here." Good old Grampa. Sam and Michael are awfully touchy feely for brothers here, by the way. Not that I'm complaining, I'm just observing, is all.

9:50 - "Hot" oiled-up sax guy, performing on the boardwalk. Michael, meanwhile, is trying (and failing) to eyefuck Star.

12:00 - As it turns out, Lucy Emerson is the patron saint of children who can't find their mommies (or *lost boys*... huh? Huh?) Max (Edward Hermann, whom I always seem to confuse with Fred Gwynne) has to stop flirting her up to yell at the vampire gang, with help from Thorn the dog.

13:40 - Ok, I have to just mention the ankle-length, striped & shoulder-padded jacket Sam is wearing. It is HOT. (Seriously, it's probably 100% polyester. He must be sweating his ass off. It's like a bathrobe.) The Coreys finally meet, and exchange comic book geekness. Sam gets a copy of "Vampires Everywhere". Then the Frog brothers have to chase off the hoodlums stealing comics.

16:10 - Michael eyefucks Star some more, until she hops on Kiefer's hog and takes off. Sam says, "She stiffed ya," while the subtitles say, "She sifted ya." Don't they have proofreaders for that? I'm pretty sure I could do that job. Call me, Warner Bros.!

16:30 - The hoods who stole the comic books are sitting in a car reading them, in the same parking lot where the security guard at the beginning bit it. These people are, like, 40 years old. Are they really stealing *comic books* from the boardwalk? To sit in the car and read them? Well, anyway, they stole, and that certainly can't go unpunished, so they get eaten. After the roof of their car gets ripped off like a sardine can.

18:50 - Sam is back at the comics store. He gets handed "Destroy All Vampires", and re-iterates his dislike of horror comics. The Frog brother that isn't a Corey says, "Our number's on the back. Pray you never need to call us." Sam says, "I'll pray ... I never need to call you." Aw, remember when the Coreys weren't drug-addicted douchebags?

20:30 - Uh oh! Star offers to "pierce" Michael's "ear". Kiefer doesn't like that! Kiefer challenges Michael to a motorcycle duel. Also, mmmm hot dark-haired vampire dude.

26:05 - There really is a poster of a semi-clad Rob Lowe on Sam's closet door. Huh. I wonder if he put it there, or if Grampa did?

26:45 - And we come to the big moment: "Maggots, Michael. You're eating maggots. How do they taste?" Oh, vampires and their glamours.

28:19 - Ok, so here's where Kiefer looks exactly - no, EXACTLY - like a guy I dated right around the time this movie came out. The blond hair, the blue eyes, the shape of his nose and mouth, the jaw/cheek/jowl combo... I'm not even kidding. It kind of weirds me out a little. Not in a bad way, dudes were hot; it's just an odd reminiscence. Anyway, now they're drinking the wine, and it's all hot, and Kiefer is eyefucking Michael, who's slo-mo licking his lips, and the rest of them are all running around the cave in their tight pants chanting "Michael! Michael!" except for Kiefer who's kind of whispering it all sexy. *phew* That scene is hot, man. Hot.

31:35 - And here's where Michael tries to impress his new man-crush Kiefer by joining in the dangerous reindeer games with the gang. "You're one of us, Michael."

36:58 - Uh-oh! Headlights! Terrifying!

38:00 - And Sam is taking a bubble bath. How old is this kid supposed to be? I mean, I'm assuming he's at least 15, right? What self-respecting 15 year old kid takes bubble baths and sings "I ain't got a man" in falsetto?

39:10 - Thank goodness Nanook the dog was there, or Michael would've eaten his own brother! And, oh no! Mike's reflection is getting pretty transparent there... "My own brother's a god-damn, shit sucking vampire!"

42:30 - I hate it when I wake up on the ceiling.

45:50 - *gasp* that's Laddie on the back of that milk carton! ...aaand Sam is now getting into bed with his mom.

48:30 - Meanwhile, back at the batcave: "What's happening to me, Star?" "Oh, Michael! I can't tell you! So I'll make out with you instead!" "Well, it's the 80s, so I can't actually make out with Kiefer, so I guess I'll make out with you instead. Close enough!" (Some of that may have been subtext. I'm very good at picking up on that.) Also, I'd just like to note that this scene is way less hot than the one when Michael first drinks the blood/wine and Kiefer is being all sexy. Why *is* that?

Ooh, another over-water flight scene! Symbolism!

53:00 - Mom and Sam go to Max's place with an apologetic bottle of wine. Chased away by Thorn the vampire dog familiar! Since Sam's been reading the comic book The Hounds of Hell, he knows all about this. He and the Frog brothers chat and determine that Max must be the head vampire.

54:45 - Michael's getting ready to go out with Kiefer again. I love it when characters in films put out candles with their fingers like it's an awesome power of some kind. I mean, I can do that, for crying out loud. It takes away a little of the "cool factor".

55:30 - Oh, no... Michael's invited Max in! This may or may not be foreshadowing. Grampa watches from the shadows. He's keeping an eye on things. Oh, and the shoulder pads on Lucy and Max right now? Joan Collins on Dynasty levels of huge. Aaaand.. they share the most awkward hello kiss ever.

57:20 - Nice. The old garlic/parmesan bait & switch maneuver. Practically foolproof. Way to go, *Coreys*. It doesn't work, and Max has a reflection, so he must not be the head vampire after all. It must be David!

1:00:30 - OK, so Kiefer and the gang take Michael out to some weird woodsy area where a bunch of mowhawked punks are having a bonfire and listening to ...Aerosmith? Really? I mean, I was there (the 80s), and I'm fairly certain that punks weren't listening to top-40 pop.

1:01:25 - *gasp* again! The gang's brought out their vampire faces. Michael has to eat an Aerosmith-listening punk if he wants to survive. Really, he doesn't seem to understand he's doing the world a favor...

More over-water flying! It really has to mean something! ...Right?

1:02:55 - Another classic: "Now you know what we are, and now you know what you are. You'll never grow old, and you'll never die, but you must feed." *group evil laugh*

1:05:35 - Star comes to see Michael and tell him all about how sorry she is, etc. etc. Also, you're not really a full-on vampire until you eat somebody, so Mike's like Star and Laddie - only 1/2 vamp. He was supposed to be her first meal! Michael feels all betrayed 'cause of how Star knew what was going on and wouldn't tell him.

1:07:35 - Sam's called the Frog Brothers, and they all stole Grampa's car to go to the batcave. Sam and Michael have a sweet and adorable brotherly bonding moment wherein Sam tells Mike, "I'll protect you!" If only we, the audience, didn't know that Sam's kind of a weenie.

1:10:10 - Sam & the Frogs find the vamps hanging from the ceiling of the batcave, and they stake Bill S. Preston, Esquire! Now Kiefer is furious and comes after them! Action scene! Kiefer grabs Sam's ankle as they are escaping! The Frogs pull him further out of the cave into the sunlight, and Kiefer's hand bursts instantly into flames! I guess Michael and Star and Laddie, whom he's taken from the cave and thrown in the car, don't burst into flame 'cause they're only 1/2-vamps. You'd think they'd at least smolder a little, though.

1:13:20 - Grampa's mad about them not replacing the gas in the car. Not that they stole it and drove it like ass, or the fact that they're carrying some 1/2 vampires into the house, just that they didn't fill the tank. Oh, Grampas and their misplaced priorities!

1:16:45 - Ack! Vampire feet!

1:18:10 - Feldman, to Haim and Other Frog: "I think I should warn you all, when a vampire bites it, it's never a pretty sight." Does he think they don't remember that from when they staked that vampire, like, ten minutes ago? Also, wouldn't his vampire hunting brother already know that?

1:19:30 - Way to go, Sam and Mike. Leave the poor dog outside, then trip and fall as you're running to get back in the house as the vampires descend. Nice work. Bright couple of fellas, there.

1:20:38 - And it's a good thing they did rescue the dog, however idiotic they were about it, because it turns out Nanook's better at killing vampires than the rest of them. Especially the Frog brothers, who scream like a pair of little girls when "the one that looks like Twisted Sister" comes after them. Only the dog has the fortitude and intelligence to push him into the bathtub full of holy water that's right behind him. Big question about this scene: How does this cause all of the plumbing in the *entire house* to start spewing blood like some kind of bodily fluid geyser? I mean, the kitchen sink just keeps going and going!

1:21:58 - Oh no! Hot Vampire has Sam & Mike's out cold! *phew* but Sam has his water pistol full of holy water! He gets Hot Vampire in the face, then grabs his bow and arrow! But, oh no! "You missed, sucker!" "Only once!" Bam! Hot Vampire is staked with the arrow and pinned to the home stereo right behind him, so he gets electrocuted to boot! Sparks flying everywhere! (What's that, you say? If he was staked with a wooden arrow, which would be what's needed to kill him, then he wouldn't be getting electrocuted because wood doesn't conduct electricity? Pshaw!)

1:23:44 - Sam finds the Frogs and they exchange high fives and terrorist fist jabs with their tales of victory ("We're awesome monster bashers!" "The meanest!"), but wait! Turns out Laddie isn't 1/2 vampire, he's full on after all! (What's that, you say? Then the part where Michael carried him to the car and he didn't burst into flames doesn't make any sense? Pshaw!) And now the Frog Brothers are terrified of a small child.

1:24:50 - Midair vamp fight! Kiefer and Michael face off in the living room. "Stop fighting me, Michael. I don't want to kill you! I just want to make sweet, sweet love to you in the Batcave D'Amour!" (Again, that last part *may* have been subtext.)

1:26:00 - Oh! And Kiefer's impaled on some antlers, which kills his vampire ass, so I guess maybe that arrow could've been metal after all. I guess as long as something pointy goes through them, they're dead. But wait, what's this? David's dead, but Mike's still a vamp? So who's the head vampire, then?

1:27:58 - Mom & Max come rushing in, all "What's going on!?" Max spots David's impaledness, and... Oooooohhhh. So it was Max after all. "Don't ever *invite* a vampire into your house, you silly boy. It renders you powerless." Turns out he really wanted to turn Mom & the boys so they could have their very own "bloodsucking Brady Bunch" (TM Edgar Frog). "But I still want you, Lucy!" At this point, Max does this Gene Simmons tongue thing, which is disturbing on a number of levels.

1:30:50 - But wait! What's that noise? It's Grampa to the rescue! Driving his truck into his own house and impaling Max with ...the logs that are, for some reason, stacked on the hood of it. And Michael and Star and Laddie are back to normal, and everyone gets to live happily ever after! Well, except for all those people that died.

1:32:40 - Best closing scene ever: Grampa: "One thing about livin' in Santa Carla I never could stomach... all the damn vampires." What-what?! Grampa knew all along! And the fridge light goes out on the totally shocked faces of Mom, Michael and Sam.And then the closing strains of the Echo & the Bunnymen cover of "People Are Strange", once again. Full circle, people. Full. Circle.

Well, there you go. My first attempt at a real-time review, which is, I guess, technically speaking, my first attempt at any kind of review not for a class. I hope you have as good a time reading it as I did writing it; I hope it brought back some fun memories for you, or if you haven't seen it, I hope you hie yourself down to the local vidya store and pick it up post haste. Everyone needs to see this movie at least once, preferably in a group of drunken friends. Also, I hope you have the fortitude to watch the sequel at least once, because it is so, so bad, and since I've subjected myself to it, I feel the need to torture others.

Signing off, and reminding you: Don't drink wine out of strangely adorned bottles in a cave full of Twisted-Sister-lookin' punks. Beav out.


ETA: There were spaces between all these lines when I began this, and the 4 times I went back in, remade the spaces, and saved it again. For some reason, Blogger seems to be refusing to allow formatting today. Because Blogger is occasionally a stupidface.

E2TA: Hooray! It finally let me save the spaces!

(Cross-posted on Vox)

We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all.

Wow. John Hughes died yesterday.

I was 13 years old when Sixteen Candles came out. I had just moved to a new town, and a new school, and I didn't know anyone. Also, I was the weird girl. The loner kind. Ridiculously shy. The one who had horror film posters all over her room instead of the hunks-du-jour. I had no friends in my new school, quite literally. I had met one girl who lived down the street from me, one time. She was a junior, with a lifetime's worth of friends, and all her classes in different sections of the building. I ran into her one time, I think, that year. I spoke to no one. Literally. Not one single person. I barely spoke at all. Instead, I immersed, and found, myself in movies.

By the time The Breakfast Club came out in '85, I had finally managed to make a couple of friends. We bonded, in part, over movies. Horror played a large part of that, to be sure, but even larger was the part played by Hughes' oeuvre. Weird Science, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Pretty in Pink; with each new film, we discovered parts of ourselves, and things we believed in. Even now, when I watch them again, I can still feel that pain and that joy that I felt in those years. I also shared a lot of laughter with my family, on the days I could stand to be anywhere near them, of course, over Mr. Mom and Vacation.

John Hughes gave me my life. I don't mean he gave me characters I could relate to, per se; in some ways I could, but they were still all very different from me. What he did give me, however, was the realization that I didn't have to fit a prescribed mold. I could be a little bit of the weird kid, and a little bit of the nerd, and a little bit of the punk, and still be a little bit of the prom queen. There is no reason in hell I have to live up to anyone's expectations of who I am. Not even my own. Not only that, but he gave me hope: finally, I had a sense that eventually, I would make it through all this. Above all, he made me see that although I was miserable, so was everyone else. I wasn't the only one who was having a hard time figuring out what the hell this life thing was all about. That no matter how it felt most of the time, I was not alone. That made it - no, makes it, this crazy, unpredictable, terrifying, painful, beautiful life - so much easier to bear.

It's funny, when celebrities die. It seems so strange to mourn someone you'd never met. Yet, in this case, the man I've never met truly did have a profound impact on my life. And I'm not the only one. Which is a fitting tribute, I think. To realize, once again, that I'm not alone.

My family's always been in meat.

I have decided to start a blog to practice writing about films. My college major is cinema studies, and my interest lies in the theoretical and the critical areas thereof. I enjoy writing about films, but have no real experience at it, so I thought perhaps it was time to start. Especially since accounting...? Is just not working out for me. I mean, I'm pretty good at it, don't get me wrong; it's just that I hate it with a fiery passion. So, here's my film blog. I was going to start out with my top five films of all time, but since those change with alarming frequency, I think it will be easier to stick to a one-film-at-a-time format.

And so I begin with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, one of the finest pieces of filmmaking ever released. Sure, you can call it a slasher flick, or you can look at it as simply a cheesy horror movie, but really, it is a film. It is the Citizen Kane of its genre. This film terrified people to the point of protesting screenings of it. This is a film that 33 years after its release is still scaring people. In all honesty, it should be considered a classic.

And why, one might ask? Why should this mere horror movie be considered a classic film, right up there with Casablanca? Well, no matter how one feels about the horror film in general, one cannot deny that it has set a gold standard for the genre. Nobody has looked at a chainsaw the same way since 1974. That's saying something, isn't it? A common power tool, in the hands of a disenfranchised agricultural worker, becomes a symbol of rage and terror. This is the narrative P.O.V; it is made clear that the horrifying cannibal family are former slaughterhouse workers who are no longer needed, as new, more efficient (mechanical) methods of slaughtering cattle have been created. There simply is no more need for human beings to physically kill the cattle. And where does this leave the family? They are the last in line of generations of abbatoirists before them; it is the only work they've ever known, the only skill they possess. What are they to do now? How are they to survive? And what, indeed, will become of them?

And the sheer brutality... (which, contrary to popular opinion, is almost entirely off screen... most of what the viewer sees is a suggestion of violence {but what a suggestion!}) ... many people had forgotten that human beings were capable of such violence, until stories started to come back from Vietnam. The tales of the atrocities committed there had no representation in reality for many people until they saw this film. They were abstract ideas, things that most people had never seen and would likely never see. And while film violence is arguably on a completely different level than that of actual violence, since most people's limited "experience" with violence is filmic experience, and up to that point that exposure had been neat and sanitary (a punch thrown, almost visibly not connecting, accompanied by clearly fake slapping sounds; or in the case of war films, death looking immediate, painless, and blood-free), TCM brought home these abstract concepts in such a way that people could no longer ignore the fact that war is messy and ugly and painful and intense. This is a hard truth for many to face, especially after getting caught up in all the patriotism of going to war; one reason why it was so widely denounced, though in reality not a manifest function of the film.

It also set the horror standard of the final female... that one lone girl that gets away in the end. Or does she, really? Sally, while she physically escapes, will never be psychologically the same; traumatized to the core, how will she survive? She'll likely be incapable of caring for herself, of leaving her house, of holding a job; so the viewer is subtly introduced to the idea that societally speaking, technological advances are maybe not such a good thing. Everybody loses; from the lower class family who loses their livelihood, to the upper middle class kids who wind up dead or unable to function and in either case are incapable of contributing to society in a meaningful way. Subsequent final females meet similar fates: Alice in Friday the 13th, who winds up in a coma from the trauma; Nancy (Nightmare on Elm Street) seems fine and dandy in the end but we soon discover that she will never truly escape Freddy's grasp, in numerous sequels. Even more recently, there have been the series of Final Destination and I Know What You Did Last Summer films (in addition to many others, too numerous to mention) with a more modern sensibility, but which still come down to that last girl, surviving what none of her friends did. Unfortunately, that more modern sensibility does not extend to the empowerment of women; they are treated just as mysoginistically as ever, having gained their independence but lost their souls.

So Tobe Hooper's common horror film changed a great many things in movie making and viewing, and reflected significant changes in societal structure and understanding. This is why it's a classic; this is why it deserves recognition as such, and not just at fan conventions or in horror circles, but in mainstream cinema as well. Just because a film is made inexpensively, and is filled with fake blood and guts and bones and men in masks made from human skin, doesn't mean it doesn't have something important to say. Actually, that man in the human mask has something particularly relevant to say: he could be any member of American society, putting on the face that others determine he should wear. Or trying to disguise himself as his victims, residents of the upper middle class, something he'll never be, no matter what he does or how hard he works; something many members of the middle- and lower-classes can relate to. The lesson, then, is don't judge a film by its pictures and words, but by what they mean, what they symbolize, and the power they have to speak to people.