In lieu of actual content, here's a link for our sister site, The Poster Archive, where we spent the last month posting the poster campaigns for all five films in the classic Planet of the Apes franchise. So, click on over and have a look you damn dirty boils and ghouls.
This just in, Boils and Ghouls: Micro-Brewed Reviews will be participating in the Classic Film and TV Cafe'sHammer Horror Blogathon, running October 21st thru the 25th. And what will I be driving a stake through? Well, I'll be digging up the corpse of an old review, dissecting out the defective parts, adding in some new bits, and then stitch it all back together for a totally re-animated review of Freddie Francis' Nightmare (1964).
I'm participating. Are you?
Meantime, in the shameless plugs department, my good friend Tim Lehnerer is launching a 26 day Hubrisween marathon over at Checkpoint: Telstar, where he'll be posting a film review every day until Halloween, showcasing an alphabetically hewed list of horror and science fiction movies. We've got Alligator and Blacula so far and rumor has it we'll end with Zombie. I, for one, can't wait to see what comes in-between. Click on over and give them a read, too, won't you? Thank you.
Also of note, can I get a moment of silence for my old TV, which, after fifteen years of service finally gave up the ghost. This, of course, necessitated the purchase of a new idiot box, which I did, gaining about 14-inches worth of screen coverage in the process. And to celebrate, before this honeymoon comes to a crashing halt when the first billing statement shows up, I've embarked on something I like to call Operation: Top Ten, where I work my way through my favorite films on this much bigger screen. About halfway through the list and I've come to the conclusion that if I had a slightly more comfortable chair in the basement, there's a pretty good chance I'd never leave the house again.
So long, old friend. Enjoy the TV farm where you will run and frolic and play nothing but old episodes of Mystery Science Theater, F-Troop, Barney Miller and Misfits of Science. (At least that's what my mom told me.)
We can only hope they teamed up to fight Fu Manchu.
*smacks self upside the head* So THAT'S why he went to the Empire State Building. It all makes sense now. Seriously, Amazon, just shut up and take my money already. Speaking of distractions...
I had big plans for October this year. Massive, creepy and kooky updates for the Brewery, the Archive and the Morgue, and even toyed around with idea of participating in one of those 31 Days of Horror blogathons. And then things kinda fell apart. To sum up, I'll recount a phone conversation I had with my sister just as October was waving goodbye to September. "Rob," I said, "I need some advice. I know this guy whose having some health issues..." And after rattling off several symptoms that included horrific indigestion, chills, inexplicable pains that wouldn't go away in certain left leaning appendages, and acute chest pain that flared up horrifically at times but then never seemed to go away, I asked, "Should this guy go see a doctor or just get to the emergency room?"
Without missing a beat, my sister, a trauma nurse, saw through my ruse and told me to get to the emergency room as soon as possible. And so, after a quick call to my parents and boss, I did just that and announced to the attendant behind the desk "I think my heart is trying to kill me." With that, I was soon prone and wired up and answering a lot of questions multiple times with the same answers multiple times for each new set of faces coming in with a battery of tests to follow ... In the good news/bad news department, after an overnight stay at the hospital for observations, prodding, poking and ultra-sounding, I was told my ticker was fine and was definitely not on the verge of plugging up as I'd feared. Perhaps it was the small gallstones they'd discovered, but the general consensus was this attack was some form of hiatal hernia, where my guts, no longer satisfied with protruding outward decided to advance upward, putting pressure on certain nerves that mimicked a heart attack. So, it was all good news but no real answers as to what exactly happened. I am feeling a lot better -- and the psychological effect of knowing your heart ISN'T about to explode is quite a relief, believe you me, but I've also been taking it kind of easy, and since hunching over a computer keyboard for extended periods only seemed to exacerbate the problem meant October was pretty much lost as posts withered and died, including a contribution to the latest Italian Horror Blogathon, and Hallowe'en memes were left unanswered.
... If I ever placed third in a contest of any kind I'd hate to see who or what got fourth. Yeah, well, screw that noise 'cuz it doesn't apply here, at all, because all the entries were worthy. And so, I'd like to thank everyone who voted for my entry in The My First Movie Blogathon. It is much appreciated and I am grateful to post among you.
Nathanael Hood over at Forgotten Classics of Yesteryear has once more rung the bell, asking for contributions for the My First Movie Blogathon, where folks are asked to recollect about their first theatrical experiences, whether it be the first film you remember attending, the first R-Rated movie you managed to bluff your way into, or even a virginal Film Festival encounter. So, dealer's choice. And my choice is to hearken back to the wild and wooly days of the early 1970's and a particular weekend matinee, where my unruly brood was dumped off at the old Rivoli theater for a double-feature of...
and
Back then, man, Dean Jones was like a second father to me.
First up, I'd like to apologize for the lack of content at the Micro-Brewery over the past few weeks. Now, the reasons for this dearth of posts is simple, and most of you are probably already aware, yes, the rumors are true, The Morgue lives once again and I've been overly occupied with moving it over to some much cooler digs.
Why, you ask? I thought you were tired of over-extending yourself on the Dubbya-Dubbya-Web, you add ... Well, I'll be honest. I missed it. I missed going through the old papers. I missed the hunt. Also, I'm coming to the firm conclusion that I am much, much better at being a film archivist than a film scholar. Thus, I've decided to put my nearly pathological OCD to work on something constructive for a change. And, with the new digs, and a fresh start, after more than a few false ones, I think I've finally got The Morgue fine-tuned, tuned-in, and focused on what I really wanted it to be from the beginning. Click on over, poke around, and kick the posts for a bit, and I think you'll see what I mean as we throw out a much wider net on what will be posted in the future.
Hell, we've already reached 100 posts in just over a week. And it's not just the old stuff being re-posted, either. Nope, though, I won't lie, the vast majority of content will be repeats for awhile as I fold the old Morgue and The Lost Archive into the new site. And once that's done, the post count will probably drop precipitously. But, the old ads are bigger and helluva lot easier to read and it will be a long, long time before I run out of new material.
Approximately one year ago, for my 40th Birthday, me and some friends of mine conspired to invade and commandeer the local Grand Theater for a party and private screening of my favorite film of all time. Here's the highlights:
(That is one gorgeous venue.)
(My folks.)
(Please note the giant cookie.)
(Almost showtime.)
Can't have a proper, classical theatrical experience without a few cartoons first, am I right?
And now, for the main feature...
(After 50 years, finally, a return engagement.)
(Yeah. I can die happily now.)
And the evening ended at the old Alibi Lounge, where, fittingly enough, I was served a giant mug of beer whose head of foam had completely frozen over solid. Now all I need is an electric blanket.
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