Horror Flick of the Week: The Stranger Beside Me (2003)

Many of us in the last year are so have found ourselves gruesomely fascinated with serial killers. Just look at how many podcasts are thriving out there based solely on the subject. This isn't a new phenomenon. It comes and goes from time to time, but 'Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile' seemed to revive interest in not only Ted Bundy, but serious concern with the celebrity of murderers. Frankly, I found the film a bit disappointing. I'd been incredibly excited to see it, but the structure just didn't work for me. Anyone who thinks it sensationalized and idolized Bundy just because Zac Efron is pretty probably didn't see it.

But I'm not here to tear apart a Netflix film that just didn't work for me, I'm here to actually recommend another Bundy film based on a book by Ann Rule, who one might say was almost a friend of Ted's. The Stranger Beside me is two stories, the side of Ann as she learns and comes to terms of Bundy's monstrosity, and a montage of Ted's more infamous killings that eventually led to his capture and ultimate demise. I really loved Billy Campbell's performance in this, because he straddled the line of Bundy's personality so well. On one side, this polished performer who could charm just about anyone with only a few words, and on the other side a seriously disturbed person compelled to commit horrible acts with overwhelming arrogance and belief that no matter what he'll always get away with it.

It's a tv movie that doesn't really need the big budget flair you'd expect from such a 'celebrity' in the world of serial killers, and somehow it just really worked as a solid film despite this, or maybe even because of it.

Grim History: Gilles de Rais

“Blood was flowing – in Bluebeard’s house, in the abattoirs, in the circuses where God had set his seal to whiten the windows. Blood and Milk flowed together.” - Arthur Rimbaud

It is said that you can divide fairy tales into two categories, stories based on general fears and thoughts at the time, or apocryphal adaptations of historic fact. What can one say about the story of Bluebeard? A rich man who took many wives, locked them in his house when he left, and left them with a key and an egg just to make sure he could trust them not to discover all of the dead wives he'd slaughtered countless times before. Frankly, I don't see why people Bluebeard could be associates with Gilles de Rais, but that's what many people believe. Odd, considering a vast majority of the children he was purported to have slaughtered, if not all, were little boys...

Gilles was born in 1404-05, depending on your sources, precocious, titled, disgustingly rich, and destined to become orphaned at the age of 10. From then on, under the guardianship of his maternal grandfather grandfather, Jean de Craon, who was without a doubt one of the more interesting and dastardly schemers you may read about in history. The man desperately wanted to be the richest in all of France, and as any respectable person of his time would do, endeavored to earn this by wedding Gilles off to a toddler. He tried, anyway. The whole mess got immediately rejected by the Parisian Parliament, so he settled for kidnapping Gilles' cousin, Catherine de Thouars instead.

But this isn't Game of Craon, this is the history of Gilles himself. Ultimately, he ended up supporting the Dauphin in the Hundred Years War. He did quite well for himself, reckless, brave, just about everything you could imagine any model aristocratic soldier being. When Joan of Arc came to court, Gilles was to be her military advisor.

Following several successful battles, Gilles became Marshall of France.

Things were looking up for our hero. Then, after a series of unfortunate events, not the least of which being the burning of Joan, and the death of his grandfather (who decided to leave the family title and respect to Gilles' younger brother),  Gilles decided he'd had enough of being the typical good guy. Some believe the death of Joan may have been the major domino in his gruesome path later on, but really...a lost friend, or perhaps even unrequited love, does not account for psychopathic behavior. Otherwise the world would be far worse than it already is.

Gilles had one daughter with his wife, then it's purported that he swore off women altogether. The man had spent a good deal of money investing in chapels, the church, and all things holy...suddenly decided to make a complete polar opposite shift in how he lived his life...

In 1432, the year after Joan of Arc's death, Gilles killed his fist victim. His first documented one, anyway. A boy his cousin had sent to deliver a letter to him. Gilles, essentially went absolutely insane. He started to spend his fortune at an astonishing rate, to the point of having to sell of portions of the family lands and estate to support his activities. What's more, his parties didn't stop with boozing and debauchery. There are many claims that insist he raped, tortured, and cremated up to 200 small children by 1440. A majority of the murders took place in 1438-1439. These children were gathered for him by his closest servants, and there are even wild accounts Gilles himself described in his confessions at court of satanic rituals he would perform, very likely involving the remains of these children as well.

His brother finally forbade Gilles from selling off anything else, and the family lands were kept intact by a court order, while the man practically threw money at his favored 'magician', an Italian man  who had once been a priest, named Antonio Prelati. Gilles' ultimate goal was to restore the money he had squandered, and he spent it like water just to find out if he could somehow transform common elements into gold. He actually thought murdering the children would somehow aid in this, and it's clear by the sheer number that no cost was too high for Gilles to maintain his wealth.

Arguably, what ultimately did him in, was the kidnapping of a cleric. Though many people suspected Gilles of murder, kidnapping, and all sorts of crime, his military history and standing with the king had given him a great deal of protection from any persecution...the church, however, was just a little too powerful for him to get away from (at the time.) He was finally brought to trial, and after several witnesses (his own servants who had actually aided him in many of his crimes) spilled the beans.

Gilles at first insisted he was innocent, but quickly caved, and described in detail many of the horrible rituals he committed with Prelati, to the point of even trying to summon Satan himself. Gilles was put to death, but because of his standing he was allowed to be strangled/hanged (some accounts differ) before his brief burning, and even so, given a Christian burial on church grounds.

It is said that many testimonies given by witnesses and Gilles himself of the crimes he committed against his victims were so terrible, that they were stricken from the record so people could be spared ever learning of the horrid details.

Horror Flick of the Week: Don't Torture a Duckling

If you're unfamiliar with Giallo (regular readers should be, I love them.) This one may be one of the easier films to foray into if you aren't, as the plot is more structured than you'd expect from a Giallo. As usual, it's got some absolutely stunning cinematography. Since this is one of those 'must sees' in the genre, I'd expect nothing less. In fact, if you're interested in Giallo at all...make this one of your top 5 to watch before the end of the year.

Voodoo. Paranoia. Religion. Gratuitous nudity. It's gruesome. Mean-spirited in the style only Fulci seems to nail so well. A mystery about some serial killer offing little boys should be, shouldn't it? Not for the faint of heart, and I'd advise those who are more sensitive in their horror tastes to not even watch the trailer below. For the rest of you, definitely check it out this October. This week. Tonight. As soon as you can.

The Axeman of New Orleans

Jazz. Fast and slick, the expression of vivacious joy and dance. That's what I always think of when I hear a good jazz song. Well, that and the Axeman of New Orleans...of course.

He was as hot as fresh griddlecakes, a temporary celebrity in Mardi Gras city. Unfortunately, when he paid you a visit, you were usually left with a splitting headache. Now that I've convinced you all I'm the Cryptkeeper, let's move on to the actual meat of the story. The killings began in 1918...

March 1919, a letter arrives at the office of the Times-Picayune, apparently it's from the Axeman. A jerk who went around breaking into people's houses and butchering them with...you guessed it...an axe.  Mostly Italian-Americans seemed to be his focus, but I guess we'll never know his real motives. He was never caught.

The letter read as follows,

Esteemed Mortal:

They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a fell demon from the hottest hell. I am what you Orleanians and your foolish police call the Axeman.

When I see fit, I shall come again and claim other victims. I alone know who they shall be. I shall leave no clue except my bloody axe, besmeared with the blood and brains of him whom I have sent below to keep me company.

If you wish you may tell the police not to rile me. Of course I am a reasonable spirit. I take no offense at the way they have conducted their investigation in the past. In fact, they have been so utterly stupid as to amuse not only me but His Satanic Majesty, Francis Josef, etc. But tell them to beware. Let them not try to discover what I am, for it were better that they were never born than to incur the wrath of the Axeman. I don’t think there is any need of such a warning, for I feel sure the police will always dodge me, as they have in the past. They are wise and know how to keep away from all harm.

Undoubtedly, you Orleanians think of me as a most horrible murderer, which I am, but I could be much worse if I wanted to. If I wished, I could pay a visit to your city every night. At will I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship to the Angel of Death.

Now, to be exact, at 12:15 (earthly time) on next Tuesday night, I am going to visit New Orleans again. In my infinite mercy, I am going to make a proposition to you people. Here it is:

I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have mentioned. If everyone has a jazz band going, well, then, so much the better for you people. One thing is certain and that is that some of those people who do not jazz it on Tuesday night (if there be any) will get the axe.

Well, as I am cold and crave the warmth of my native Tartarus, and as it is about time that I leave your earthly home, I will cease my discourse. Hoping that thou wilt publish this, and that it may go well with thee, I have been, am and will be the worst spirit that ever existed either in fact or realm of fantasy.

The Axeman

Obviously we had ourselves a pretentious nut-job on our hands. But he'd gotten his message across pretty thoroughly, because people were rushing to fill the city with music. Dance halls and clubs were jam-packed as many people as they could humanly fit, and anybody who couldn't go to one of those desperately tried to hire a musician or two to pump some of those sweet tunes into their own homes. Jazz flowed freely that night, and it doesn't seem anybody was murdered.

But the killings didn't stop that night. They continued. One woman in particular seemed pretty strange after she found her husband dead in their room, lying in a pool of blood. Her name was Esther Albano, and she claimed to have gotten a glimpse of 2 murderers fleeing from her house. Strangely calm, Esther seemed to be in a state of shock. About a year later, though, she allegedly shot a man named Momphre. She had gotten a gun and waited for him to show, then delivered her own little slice of justice. Some information about the man seemed to match when the axe murderer would have gone about his grisly business, but there was no official evidence to have sentenced him. Esther was sentenced to a decade in prison, but only served about 3 before disappearing.

I wish I could say that last story was absolutely true, but I have no idea. There's no official written evidence of it, and court records prior to computer filing systems could often times be misplaced or lost. But...the killings did stop, coincidentally.

You'd think the night New Orleans played a record amount of jazz music across the city would be the only other odd claim to fame our friend had. But he was also immortalized by John Davilla with a song...The Mysterious Azman's Jazz. So here it is, just to remind you how easily a few hot tunes can save your life.

Drive-in Trailers: Based On/Inspired By True Events

Sometimes they say truth is stranger than fiction. Most times they don't, because a lot of people familiar with Cronenburg will realize he's pretty much stranger than any truth. But I digress. The following featured trailers are films inspired by/based on true events. Fun fact...looooots of films have been inspired by Ed Gein...

A quick warning that some of these trailers have graphic clips in them. This is not an advisable selection to watch with children or family :)

Grim History: Elizabeth Bathory

Imagine you have a daughter. She is your only child, and the light of your life. You would do everything for her, but you're not in the right financial situation to give your little girl the education you think she deserves. She is destined, much like the rest of your family, to spend her years doing back-breaking labor every day of her life to ensure that she can eat. So it is decided that she'll get a job. She'll become a servant in the house of an incredibly rich woman, and you know that every day she will be able to eat. Every day she will be able to survive with at least a little less effort than she would have, if she stayed home.

Now imagine instead that you do have money, but you still have a daughter. You love her, much as you would were you in the former situation. As much as you don't like to admit to yourself, she's getting older by the day. Soon she'll have to be married, but she'll only be able to find the best husband if she has the best manners. You receive an offer from a very rich and elegant lady to teach your daughter all of the etiquette and grace she would need to know, and she's lucky enough to be 1 among only 25 chosen at a time.

Time is beginning to pass, whether you are the first parent or the second. You do not receive word of your daughter, nor do you receive letters. Nothing. After months, maybe even years of anxiously waiting, you find out something very awful about the household your daughter 'joined'. Many, if not all, of the girls brought there have been murdered. Your daughter is among them, and she was killed in an unspeakably brutal way, her blood used in a sick ritual to bathe that very same rich woman who promised your daughter a better future.

This happened to over 650 young women. Girls. Children. Though the people who aided in the torture and disposal of these girls were tried and put to death, the monster responsible for this genocide was never put to a trial. She was sealed in her bedchamber with just enough of an opening in the wall for food/drink. She would go on to live like this for 4 years.

Elizabeth Bathory, the 'bloody countess', a very rich and very horrible person by all accounts. She is often practically glamorized in film. Why wouldn't she be? She was one of the richest people in her country, purportedly beautiful, elegant. But one think that always seems to be under-played...is the sheer scale of her crimes.

She was born in 1560, and grew up watching her father torture local peasantry for kicks, so her sadism was learned from a very young age. She married (at the age of 15) an infamously 'brave' warrior Count known affectionately as 'The Black Hero of Hungary', and from then became heavily involved in occult practices. This wasn't the new age crystal shaking of today, nor parlor tricks like pouring wax into water and predicting your future. This was the heavy-hitting satanic worship, complete with (very likely) sacrifices and naked Latin poetry circles.

Surprisingly, Elizabeth really didn't get started on her rampage until she was in her early 40s. She had children, and lived a relatively normal life by the standards of a rich Countess. She had kids, raised them, managed to keep herself from drinking their blood or using it for cosmetics, and honestly things might have gone on fairly nicely if she hadn't been a psychopath.

The story goes that her maid brushed Elizabeth's hair too hard, so she got a good smack for the incident. Somehow blood was drawn, so I suspect something far worse than a smack, and Elizabeth deliriously thought that the blood rejuvenated her skin when she rubbed it into her hand. I, personally, would not recommend this beauty treatment.

I could go on for ages describing all of the insanely ridiculous Bava levels of gruesome activities this woman did. Perhaps I'll even do another post about her some day. But for now, I will stop here. I would like to leave you with one final gruesome thought in the meantime: why do we say Bloody Mary when we look in the mirror? I think Bloody Elizabeth would be far more horrifying...

Horror Flick of the Week: Student Bodies

Don’t let the online ratings fool you! This movie is terrible. Wait, that’s exactly what the online reviews say…okay, let me rephrase this. Don’t let the online ratings ‘deter’ you, or the fact that almost every single cast member involved with this movie didn’t want to receive any credit whatsoever for it.

It’s cheesy, raunchy, stupid, funny, at times painful…and fantastic. Fantastic in that everyone pretty much knows what they’re in is stupid, and they’re all adults…but they aren’t above acting like children, or milking DUMB gags until they’re crying for mercy. Believe it or not, this was pretty unique for it’s time. Way ahead of Scary Movie, with considerably less drug jokes. It’s a direct parody of Slasher, which wasn’t a completely formed genre yet. Coming out of the age of Grindhouse ‘masterpieces’, this film was made at the perfect time.

Honestly, completely sober, I feel drunk when I watch this. So if you think about it, I saved a lot of money sitting through Student Bodies. You could too! Unless you prefer to appreciate films merely for the sake of art and brilliance, or you’re too highly evolved for juvenile humor and pre-marital sex.

The main premise is that a serial killer called ‘Breather’ kills teenagers who have sex, usually with unique methods…like vegetables…and horse-head bookends. Meanwhile, there’s a lot of teenagers having sex all over the place. Don’t forget the janitor, Malvert, who’s actually a lot more funny and terrifying than the Breather (which is saying something. The Breather is hilarious.) The secondary premise is that everyone’s an idiot. Like Airplane…with a serial killer.