Uncle Bardie’s Movie of the Week: Keep off the moors

Once a week on Monday, Uncle Bardie shares a movie with his Readers he gives a big two thumbs up. It will simply be a short excerpt or a trailer. Uncle Bardie might even throw in a reflection on the movie. If so, it will make an appearance below the video. So pop some popcorn and give yourself a treat. This week’s movie is “An American Werewolf in London” (1981).

John Landis, director of “Animal House” and “The Blues Brothers”, directed this one. It’s a horror movie. Not that “Animal House” and “The Blues Brothers” were not horror movies. It may be a stretch but I’d say those had a monster or two in them. Only this time Jake Blues and Blutarsky are no where to be found. Imagine how awesome this one would have been if Blutarsky had been slumming in the north of England.

You heard that right. Northern England. Can’t say there is a better place for a horror movie. Unless it’s the woods in Northern Michigan or a Gothic little Southern town. When someone drops you off in the middle of nowhere and says, “Keep off the moors”, wouldn’t you tend to keep off the moors. Even if you didn’t know what moors are. Unfortunately this is a horror movie and it is pretty well established that someone is going to end up on the moors. Especially if they are American tourists. In this case, David and Jack.

David Naughton plays David. He could have been a Tom, a Dick, or a Harvey. Perfectly good American names. Instead he gets to be a David. An actor can go his entire career and not play a character with his name. I mean, Richard Burton was a great actor and he never played anybody named Richard Burton. Maybe the director thought David Naughton had way too many lines and it would help to take the load off by giving him the name David. Jack is played by Griffin Dunne.

David and Jack are taking in some of the fresh English air before they go off to see the Colisseum in Rome. Our two tourists come to a small English town with a pub, The Slaughtered Lamb. If I came across a pub with a name like that, I’d tend to want to get out of Dodge real fast. Or, at least, off the moors.

In the pub, there’s a five-pointed star painted on the wall right out there for everybody to see. One of our two young Americans comments, “Maybe it’s to ward off monsters.” You think. The pub regulars give the two the very cold shoulder. As David and Jack leave, they are warned, “Keep off the moors.” We’ve already warned them, but they didn’t listen to us. You’d think they’d listen to the locals in a pub named The Slaughtered Lamb with a five-pointed star out there for everybody to see. But no. They’re Americans, and like Americans everywhere, they ain’t afraid of any moors.

Unfortunatley it’s a full moon night. As sure as this is “An American Werewolf in London”, the Americans fumble their way off the road and into the moors they were told to stay off of. But this would not have been a horror movie if they had stayed on the straight and narrow. Evidently these two may be the only two people on the planet who have not seen movies with moors in them.

Guess you can guess what happens next. And yes, you’re right. They encounter the Big Bad Wolf. Before you know it, the two young Americans are down to one. When the survivor asks “Where’s Jack?” it’s obvious he didn’t climb a beanstalk.

Next thing we know, David wakes up in a hospital bed. Within minutes, he is having himself some visions.  And they are not of the Virgin Mary. They’re nightmares. Really bad stuff. If that isn’t enough, Jack shows up in bad make-up. I wonder why David doesn’t ask who did the whack job on your makeup. But he doesn’t. The two have a very normal conversation. If you call normal, being urged by Mr. Bad Makeup to kill yourself. Before Jack leaves, he’s doesn’t say, “Keep of the moors.” No, that one is way too late to say. Jack says, “Beware the moon.”

There is a consolation prize for all the bad stuff coming down. David gets to hang with Nurse Alex Price, played by Jenny Gutter. I’ve heard of a lot of pickup lines but the one he uses on her takes the cake. “I’m a werewolf” just won’t get you a second date 99.9% of the time. Unless she’s a werewolf too. Then the two of you can have a howling good time next full moon.

Evidently the werewolf bit works. Nurse Alex invites David to her apartment. Then she delivers one of the all-time classic romantic lines: “Perhaps you’d like to watch the telly while I take a shower.”

Yadda yadda yadda and it’s later. Jack corners David and urges him to kill himself. Otherwise there’s going to be trouble in River City. David will turn into a big bad wolf and kill people all over the place. David tells him to bug off. He’s not taking advice from a meatloaf.

David’s doctor, Dr. Hirsch, goes to check things out at Werewolf Central, The Slaughtered Lamb. He immediately notices the five-pointed star. The regulars boo him out of their home away from home. One of the men sneaks outside and meets the doc. “There’s something wrong with this place,” he says. Of course, there’s something wrong with the place. It’s got a five-pointed star in a pub named “The Slaughtered Lamb” and there are moors and there are folks bitten into werewolves. I’d say that’s enough wrong for two movies.

Nurse Alex is on night duty. She leaves David in the apartment. He goes for a walk. A dog barks at him. A cat hisses at him. That ought to give him a clue. Maybe, just maybe, David is a werewolf. You think.

Maybe this is England’s way of getting even for losing the American Revolution. The Brits every so often choose a young American tourist and turn them into a werewolf. Take that, you naughty Americans. And here I thought we’d made up.

Doctor Hirsch returns to the hospital. Nurse Alex is on duty. He tells her, “We have a werewolf problem.”

One thing is for sure. If, on a full moon night, you find yourself alone and you hear some growling a half block away, it’s obvious. You have a werewolf problem.

After your trick or treat extravaganza tonight, enjoy your treats and watch “An American Werewolf in London” tonight. It’s the Halloween thing to do.

Halloween Brew

Happy All Hallows’ Eve to you and yours.

‘Tis a dark and stormy night

The vampires are out for a bite

And the ghosties on the prowl

Something out there’s smelling foul

While down in Zombie Town

There’s the howl of a devil hound

And deep in Castle Vlad

Frank ‘N’ Stein are in their lab

Mixing up their ghoulish stew

Stirring up that Halloween Brew.

On Transylvania Street

There’s a lot of trick or treat

As the jack ‘o lantern choir

In their Halloween attire

Walk the walking dead dance

Skeletons doing their scary prance.

The headless horseman rides

With his head held at his side

In the Grand All Hallow’s

Eve Parade and Spooktastic Show.

Under a full witching moon

Midnight’ll be here soon

Then at “The Pit and Pendulum”

They’ll gather with their ghastly grins

For the Ushers will be there.

A cask of Amontillado they’ll share.

They’ll spill their tell-tale hearts

Spinning tales of the darker arts

And the time of the Halloween Brew

When they drank F ‘N’ S’s stew.

Another year rolls around

And the dead sleep safe and sound.

Then October shall arrive

When the dead come alive

For another show and tell

Under autumn’s darkest spell

When the goblins take to the air

For the Great Halloween Affair

And more of that Good Stew,

A tall hot mug of Halloween Brew.

Uncle Bardie’s Weekly Music Pick: Werewolves of London

It’s Thursday again. You know what that means. Uncle Bardie’s Weekly Music Pick. Uncle Bardie gives a double thumbs up to this week’s selection: Warren Zevon and his “Werewolves of London“.

Werewolves don’t get any respect these days. It’s all zombies here, zombies there, zombies everywhere. I’ve had it up to here with zombies. I say bring the werewolves back. They are much more scary, and they have bigger teeth too. And I can’t remember Warren Zevon ever doing a song about zombies. Why would he want to? Zombies are boring. So this Halloween let’s remember Lon Chaney Jr. and bring the werewolves back. We’ll all feel a lot better.

Politics in America 30: Inauguratin’

P F Sneaze, now The Great Man, stepped up to the plate. It was his turn at bat. Would he hit a home run or would he just bunt? This is always the question in the minds of the American people when they inaugurate the New Guy.

The Great Man took the Oath of Office and stepped to the podium. The American people held their breath. They were ready for some wisdom. They seldom got it but they were ready for it.

In his inaugural address to the nation, he said: “I want to be the President of all the Presidents, both foreign and domestic, alienated and non-alienated. And this we will do.” It was the shortest Inauguration Speech in the history of Inauguration Speeches. George Washington would have been proud. Abe Lincoln would have been proud. JFK would have been proud. School children would memorize it for generations. The Big Guy whispered to his auburn-haired wife, “Not bad. Not bad. Wish I had thought of that.”

Then the parades began. For hours, they just kept a-comin’. Till finally everybody had paraded out. Then the Big Guy handed the keys to the castle to the Great Man. Big Guy slipped away into history. The Great Man walked into the News Cycle known as the News Cycle.

You’ve heard the saying “a hot time in the old town”. Well, I am here to tell you that the Do Naughties had one do-naughty time that night. I won’t go into details. Just use your imagination.

After all the fluff and pizzazz of the Inauguration and the Inauguration parties and Inauguration balls, the presidential couple were tired. Their toesies were tired. Their ankles were tired. Their legs were tired. Their hands were tired. Their arms were tired. Their heads were tired. Even their hair was tired. I guess that you could say the presidential couple was tired.

So they went back to that big White House on Pennsylvania and went to look for a place to sleep. Unfortunately all the White House servants had retired. You see, they too were tired.

The presidential couple stumbled around in the dark since there was no one in the Residence to turn on the light switches. Finally they found the Presidential Stairs and drug his Presidential and First Lady buttskys upstairs. If ever there was a tired President, The Great Man was it. He was tired. It was way past his bedtime.

The Great Man took a rather large snort of Dr. Pudding’s Own Home Brew the next morning and walked into the Oval Office. On the wall behind the desk the White House Interior Decoratin’ Society had picked up just the day before at Ikea, there was a large portrait of Goof-off Sneaze. It was there to inspire the new President not to make a dang fool of hisself.

Beside the Presidential desk, Bessie Mae Hogg looked up and smiled. Finally she would be with her master. She had missed him so much since he had gone away to the Convention. She would have jumped up and rushed him if her 750 pounds would have let her. She decided, for the best, to just lay there and smile her delight.

Next Week Redecoratin’

Uncle Bardie’s Movie of the Week: Disaster & Survival

Once a week on Monday, Uncle Bardie shares a movie with his Readers he gives a big two thumbs up. It will simply be a short excerpt or a trailer. Uncle Bardie might even throw in a reflection on the movie. If so, it will make an appearance below the video. So pop some popcorn and give yourself a treat. This week’s movie is “The 33” (2015):

What would you do if you were trapped underground? For sixty-nine days? With thirty-two other people? And you only had enough food for thirty people for three days?