The Molly Ringwald Problem: The Conclusion

"Go check the Ally Sheedy section," I said with some alarm. "Now."

"You don't think?" Lesley said trying to hide the trembling in her voice.

"I do," I replied.

"Dear God," Lesley shouted in fear. "He's back!"

We rushed to the Ally Sheedy section.

"Blue City is gone," I said, looking at the gap in the shelf, beads of sweat popping on my forehead.

"And Heart of Dixie as well," Lesley mumbled, her eyes flitting like a trapped moth.

"He's going for the Anthony Michael Hall's," I said with more than a little urgency. "it's closest to where got in."

"Let's go then," Lesley said getting her second wind.

We swiftly weaved through the isles; we smelt him before we saw him. The stench of stale fryer fat unmistakable, Lesley looked at me wearily.

"Put the Weird Science down Costas," I said gently.

Costas looked up at us his alabaster skin almost translucent, his red eyes pleading. He had owned the cafe next door and, like us, stayed on when it all closed down. But, unlike us, the solitude and failure had sent him mad. Every now and then he would break in.

"Breakfast?" he rasped, his voice ragged, nothing like it used to be. 

"Two number fours please," I said.

Costas stood up, he was naked except for his heavily stained apron.

"Two number fours it is," he replied scratching the order on his pale skin with his jagged finger nail.

Lesley gasped slightly and I gripped her arm.

Costas jumped through the hole in the wall to get us our make belive breakfasts. 

We quickly started filling it in and dragging the shelves of videos in front of it.

"That should keep him out for a while," I said.

"What was he like before?" Lesley asked.

"He was a great cook," I replied. Getting a little lost in memory of when Costas's Cafe was as thriving as the video shop. "They were good times."

We looked at the massive pile of videos Costas had left.

"Those Betsy's Wedding's are not going to file themselves," Lesley said.

"You take Molly Ringwald and I'll take the Ally Sheedy's," I smiled.

Hannibal- A Real Feast

If the real world was as intense and nasty as it is portrayed in Hannibal, there would only be about five people left on Earth. But that was half the fun of the programme, which has just ended its first season on Sky Living. I sat and wondered how deep, dark and surly could it get before someone lightened the tone, except no one did it just got deeper, darker and surlier. I suppose the key to the show was that Jack Crawford line from The Silence of the Lambs:

"Believe me you don't want Hannibal Lecter inside your head."

Because that is something that is never fully explored in the films, but here, in the series, we saw exactly what happens and poor old Will Graham  copped it full force.

The real joy of Hannibal was the tense,triangular interplay between the good doctor, Jack Crawford and Will Graham. All three were  brilliantly played by Lawrence Fishburne as Crawford, Hugh Dancy as Graham and especially Mads Mikkelsen as Hannibal, he really inhabited the role, and as for that creepy sniffing.

OK, the peripheral stories were a bit hard to take at times, with serial killers so inventive they made Jigsaw look like a five year old with Lego. Were we really supposed to believe an ailing Lance Henriksen constructed a totem pole of bodies that a team of labourers would struggle to erect. But that is a small quibble for all the dark goings on and outlandish meals that were served up during the show. Even the most iron stomached amongst us, must have felt a few twinges at times as guests sat down to Hannibal's gourmet feasts.

But (kind of) creator Bryan Fuller should be congratulated for not flinching and I am certainly looking forward to the second course when it arrives.

The Owner.

The Molly Ringwald Problem

We have had a bit of trouble at The Abandoned Video Shop this week. It started when Saturday help Lesley, her twin Leslie was in the week before, I think. Anyway, Lesley came over and said: "There's something odd in the Molly Ringwald section."

Now as you all know Molly Ringwald was a video queen, so you can imagine how extensive our Molly Ringwald section is.

"Molly who?" Old Reg shouted waking up and farting.

"Tell me," I said earnestly. 

"All the Betsy's Wedding's have gone missing," Lesley replied evidently in shock.

I looked around at Old Reg in amazement, but he had fallen back asleep.

"Let's go investigate," I said to Lesley putting on my best brave face.

We went over to the Molly Ringwald section via a short cut through the Judd Nelson's, then a sharp left along the Rob Lowe's.

"There," Lesley proclaimed pointing at the empty space where thirty copies of Betsy's Wedding should have been. "What did I tell you."

I looked around, Sixteen Candles and Pretty In Pink were exactly where they should be but no Betsy's Wedding.

There was a crashing sound somewhere off to our right.

"Go check the Ally Sheedy section," I said with some alarm. "Now."

"You don't think?" Lesley said trying to hide the trembling in her voice.

"I do," I replied.

"Dear God," Lesley shouted in fear. "He's back!"

TO BE CONTINUED...

Under the Dome

I live in fear of Lost.

Every new show that comes along, with even the remotest element of mystery, I think to myself "Oh God no, not another Lost."

So it was with great trepidation I approached Under The Dome. OK, it's based on a Stephen King novel, so we are on a firm footing.But that won't help us when we are in season three and all of King's brilliance has been used up and the producers feel the urge to push the Lost button and unleash torrents of tosh upon us.

The premise of Under The Dome is pretty simple; the inhabitants of the small town of Chester's Mill are cut off from the rest of the world by a large, seemingly impregnable, transparent dome. It happens. Where did it come from and why Chester's Mill are the questions for later episodes as the diverse characters rush around in stricken panic. The show has a large cast and it will take a few episodes to get used to them all. Under The Dome certainly isn't a star vehicle, the closest the show comes to stars are Dean Norris ( Hank from Breaking Bad ) and Lost reminder and straight to video superstar Jeff Fahey. The budget for the pilot seemed to go on the CGI, trucks and planes squishing into the dome and a cow cut so perfectly in half that Damien Hirst must've screamed with envy.

This is obviously too close to Lost for JJ Abrams, so that other perennial executive producer Steven Spielberg is left to do the honours.

His agent must say: "Hey Steve do you wanna be executive producer of something called Under the Dome?"

"Yeah why not."

The pilot was intriguing, well acted, and made me want to see what happens next, which is exactly how I felt after the first episode of Lost. It is all about how well Under The Dome can keep the levels of old tosh under control as the seasons roll by.

The Owner

The Steven Seagal Festival.

Yep, as you'd expect it was another quiet week in the Abandoned Video Shop. We had a little trouble with some teenagers trying to break in with their legal highs Friday night, but we sorted that out quick smart. As Old Reg said "I didn't have legal highs when I was young, I had the war." I'm not too sure what he was getting at, so I left it at that.

As a weekend  treat I thought we would have a Steven Seagal Festival. We are an abandoned video shop, so it's not like we are short of his films around here.

"Is he the little one who does the beer ads?" Saturday help Leslie asked. I didn't even bother replying to that. Old Reg moaned as I wandered in with an armful of videos, I got the feeling only I considered Steven Seagal a treat. Perhaps I made a mistake kicking off the festival with Hard To Kill, which I rightly described in my, perhaps over lengthy, introduction as 'the pony tail classic.' Sadly Leslie mistook this action masterpiece for a spoof and laughed long and hard through Steven's pained coma scenes and even harder at his beard. Old Reg perked up when Kelly Le Brock entered the fray. "That's her from The whatever in whatever," he shouted. "I love her hair, you don't see hair like that anymore." With that he nodded back off.

I followed Hard To Kill with the cracking thriller Marked For Death, but Leslie had wandered away to alphabetise the Andrew McCarthy section and Old Reg was farting loudly in his sleep. I didn't even have the enthusiasm to do my insightful introduction to the classic Under Siege. To top it all my Wharfdale chewed up the cassette. Thankfully we have another twenty five copies. Sadly, I'm not sure I'll be doing another Steven Seagal Festival.

So as you can see another quiet week in The Abandoned Video Shop.

The Owner.

THE RETURNED GALLIC FLAIR WITHOUT THE SCARE

Call me thick but I really didn't get the final episode of The Returned. OK, it might well be a set up for the second outing next year, but all those episodes just so we could have a lengthy remake of John Carpenter's The Fog seems a bit of a waste. 

It all started quite promisingly, slow and deliberate as the dead came back to find they were an inconvenience as much as anything. Life moves on and the past is exactly where it should be. But those themes started to fade, as the ghost story started to kick in. Phantom figures from the flooded village started to edge onto the screen and the tosh elements of Lost crept in, people unable to escape the forest or drive along the dam, stuff that doesn't bode well for season two. Let's hope John Lock doesn't turn up to shift the village back and forth in time. 

That is not to say The Returned didn't have its moments creepy kid Victor stole every scene he was in, sad eyed Camille was a picture of alienation, and there was a great atmosphere of unease around eerie Simon. But I'm sure it was only the Gallic flair and style that kept me with it, if The Returned had been a BBC, or ITV, show with James Nesbitt and Lesley Sharp, I would have wandered away long ago. 

So, after this, quite literal wash out of a finale,  I'm probably not on my own as I wonder will I return to The Returned?

The Owner

TONY LONDON SERIAL KILLER - A BRITISH CLASSIC

The Horror Channel is always a good place to find films that don't make the mainstream, most of the time they don't make any stream come to think of it. Tony London Serial Killer is one little gem  they show on  quite a regular basis. It is how I discovered this British classic and I'm envious of anyone who has yet to sample the dark delights of Tony.

Written and directed by Gerald Johnson, in Tony London Serial Killer ( although the film's titles only call it Tony ) we follow the day to day life of, yep you guessed it, Tony. We see him wander through a very downtrodden looking London  and the film is about his episodic encounters with various people.Some bully him, some are nice to him, and some he kills. Tony lives alone in his foul smelling flat, his only comfort the old action videos he watches. Something we applaud here at The Abandoned Video Shop. Tony is brilliantly played by Peter Ferdinando, and it really must rank amongst the very best screen performances of the last decade. It really is that good. Peter Ferdinando not only makes Tony dark and alienating but also gives him pathos and sympathy. You can't help but feel sadness, and more than a little revulsion, as Tony asks a rotting corpse if he wants a cup of tea. 

It is not a particularly bloody film, the average slasher has gallons more gore. It is the cloying atmosphere that gets to you with Tony. So when he kills, it is shocking and real. Plus there is none of the Hannibal grand body tableaus in this film, Tony doesn't kill to make a statement. Will Graham wouldn't even notice Tony as he wandered by, let alone delve into his motives. Gerald Johnson doesn't give us motives, we are not even sure if we are watching Tony in the middle of his killings or if it is all starting to crumble away. Just as Tony wandered on at the beginning of the film, so he wanders off screen at the end, through the London night, a predator passing people totally unnoticed and totally anonymous.

 If you haven't seen it give Tony a go, you won't be disappointed and I envy the joy you have in store.

The Owner