Monday, August 12, 2013

Terror Creatures From The Grave


A notary arrives at an castle to settle a will, and suddenly Barbara Steele rises from behind a couch and ominously says, "My Husband has been dead for a year" as thunder cracks which seems perfectly fine because there's almost never anything to worry about if you find yourself staying at an castle with Barbara Steele. So like I said, the notary arrives at this castle where plague victims were stored because why wouldn't they be, because the castle's owner who's been dead a year sent him a letter because why wouldn't he, and he has to sleep in the room where the castle's owner died because of course he does, and this room he has to sleep in has a cabinet of severed hands just outside the door because where else would you keep them, and again, all that seems just fine. You sure in the heck aren't going to get those kind of accommodations at the Red Roof Inn. Then the notary listens to a recording of the dead man recounting the legend of the Diabolical Plague Spreaders, and the Diabolical Plague Spreaders sounds like a pretty bad-ass Swedish death metal band, and that also seems fine.

The next morning, the notary goes to start up his Chitty Chitty Bang Bang-mobile when he discovers he has a bloody owl corpse lodged in his engine, and he says, "What rotten luck!" which seems fine and the appropriate thing to say at a time like that. Sometime later, the notary stumbles upon the body of the pharmacist/mayor of the town whose face is drippy from acid (not drippy from acid in the "drippy Salvador Dali clock melting over a tree branch because I took LSD at the Grateful Dead concert" sense, but the "some fiend splashed the sulfuric variety on me and now my dissolving face-skin is sliding into the pocket of my overcoat" sense, just to clear that whole thing up). Someone says, "The Corpse Collectors always come around when someone is doomed" and then Barbara Steele takes a bubble bath; which both the Corpse Collectors and Barbara Steele Takes A Bubble Bath sound like Swedish death metal bands and that also seems fine.

After what seems like forever as the cast discusses the events that have taken place so far, some chick that is not Barbara Steele sitting naked by a fountain in the dark sings a jaunty tune called, "Death Is Approaching" and the notary decides to investigate the dark castle with only a candle as spooky chords are hammered on a piano because that seems fine. Meanwhile, a guy sitting in a wheelchair rolls himself onto a sword hari-kari-style, and someone's plaguey corpse hand caresses the shoulder of his now-lifeless body as theremin music plays because that seems fine and the appropriate thing to do. Then all the crypts in the castle's vicinity slide open for some reason because of course they are and why wouldn't they.

So yeah, Terror Creatures From The Grave has fog, cobwebs, doors that close by themselves, thunder and lightning, howling winds, open graves, long shadows cast by the figure of some unknown horrible thing, and sudsy bubble baths, but very few actual terror creatures from the grave which is actually fine because Terror Creatures From The Grave didn't really need them.


No comments:

Post a Comment