COMING ATTRACTIONS: DOUBLE FEATURE: EVIL BEHIND YOU & THE BURNING HELL

Well, we've now passed the six month mark here at The B-Movie Catechism and it's just in time for our 25th review. To celebrate, we're going to have our first double feature in which we GO TO HELL! First up is 2006's Evil Behind You, a direct to video horror/thriller produced by the folks at Given The Boot Ministries in hopes of bringing the Christian message into the secular environment. You can view the trailer here at the movie's official website. After that we take a look at 1974's The Burning Hell, evangelist Estus Pirkle's 16mm fire and brimstone epic which promises to deliver 20,000 degrees fahrenheit and not a drop of water! There's no trailer, but you can buy or rent a print from Mr. Pirkle himself at his website, or you can just watch the whole thing (in eight parts) on YouTube.

EAT MY DUST

TYPICAL REVIEW

"Eat My Dust, which opened yesterday at neighborhood theaters, is an exuberantly idiotic movie... The cast, directed by Charles Griffith, who wrote the screenplay, acts as though Eat My Dust matters. It doesn't." - New York Times

THE PLOT

Hoover (played by the director of A Beautiful Mind and Cinderella Man) has a "going nowhere" job refilling hand towel and toilet paper dispensers. He still knows what he wants out of life though, and that's Darlene, the prettiest girl in all of Puckerbush County. But unfortunately for Hoover, Darlene has one condition before she'll go out with him; she wants a ride in a fast car. In particular she wants a ride in the 700hp Camaro that just won the race at the local track. So Hoover does what any sane man would; he walks into the pit and "borrows" the car in front of God and everybody, including his own father, the county sheriff. Joined by as many teens as can squeeze into the back of a Camaro (a surprisingly large number), Hoover and Darlene tear through the countryside causing thousands in property damage while mysteriously never harming a living thing. (This was years before the A-Team turned this into an art form.) The authorities give chase.

THE POINT

"The heroine... likes fast young men and even faster cars... Fun stuff, concentrating on action, not social or psychological problems." That quote, from Britain's Channel 4 review of 1957's Dragstrip Girl, pretty much sums up the philosophy behind many of the hot rod movies aimed directly at the teenage drive-in crowd of the 1950s. And Eat My Dust starts out as the same kind of pure teenage fantasy as it's rockin-n-rollin chicken-racing predecessors. In the jejune universe of Eat My Dust every adult is an utter moron ("Hey, Roy, I'm looking for a kid in a blue jacket and Civil War cap, much like the one sitting four feet directly behind you in that conspicuous horse drawn wagon that I somehow mysteriously don't notice. Have you seen him?"), underage kids can get beer with no hassle (Hoover himself actually refuses to drink while driving, which is probably for the best considering the devastation he causes while stone sober.), and the destruction of private property doesn't matter as long as everyone walks away alive (Not necessarily uninjured, mind you, just alive.). If you need confirmation that this movie is told entirely from the kids' point of view, look no further than the brief segment preceeding the final chase where the Camaro runs out of gas. While Hoover drives a buckboard (apparently not uncommon in Puckerbush County) to the store in order to con some free fuel, Darlene breaks into a friend's house to shower, borrow some fresh clothes, and make a call to one of her girlfriends while polishing her nails. The background soundtrack to all of this is not music, but rather the frothing tirade of the sheriff (Hoover's dad, remember) which is being broadcast over the local airwaves demanding that the couple turn themselves in. Every single kid shown has their radio on, but not one of them ever hears a word that's being said. (Every parent reading this just bowed their heads in despondent solidarity.)

Had Eat My Dust been made in the 50s, that's probably all there would have been to it. Fifteen minutes of exposition, seventy-five minutes of car chases and hijinks, the end, date over, hope she at least kisses me before she goes inside. But Eat My Dust was released in 1976, just seven short years after Easy Rider had ushered in a very different kind of road movie, artful car-centered films like Vanishing Point, Two-Lane Blacktop, and the anti-Easy Rider masterpiece Electra Glide In Blue (get thee to a video store and rent that one right away). These films were anything but fun and games. Comparing some of those movies, author and critic Danny Peary wrote, "All these characters are not heroes to admire - they are miserable case studies. The sad aspect of [Two-Lane] Blacktop is that while these two young men take their endless trip to nowhere in their cubicle on wheels, they pass stationary cubicles - houses owned by people of all economic classes - where lights go on to signal that there are people inside who are just as withdrawn and isolated from the problems/horrors of the world." During the early seventies, filmmakers no longer saw the American highway as a simplistic playground for youthful rebellion, but rather a stage for existentialist explorations of alienation and aimlessness. While referenced subtly (okay, blatantly ignored sometimes for a cheap laugh), the influence of these weightier less-than-fun films can still be seen and felt in Eat My Dust.

The odd thing, however, is that the detached attitude from those earlier 70s films is expressed in Eat My Dust, not through the main character of Hoover, but rather through Darlene. She's the one who relentlessly chants faster, faster, faster even when the speedometer begins to creep up into dangerous territory. Faced with the inevitable point-of-no-return decision, Darlene's the one who just wants to keep driving, even after the duo has admitted to themselves that they really have no place to go. When the gas runs out, Darlene is the one who insists that the car somehow be refilled and made ready to hit the road again before she'll finally give Hoover his promised reward. And at the end of the movie, when the ride is over and the car has been returned (see, Hoover really did just borrow it after all), it's Darlene who rejects any notion of a real relationship between the two. "It was never about me, was it?" shouts Hoover, to which Darlene just shrugs and walks off into the night wistfully considering where the next day's escape from reality might come from.

If Eat My Dust had ended right there, it could easily be dismissed as an enjoyable, but mostly forgettable, teenage fantasy romp with a bittersweet ending. And really, as a stand-alone film, it still can. (This thing is a looong way from being a masterpiece.) But there's one final scene which, when considered in the context of the meta-narrative of American road movies, gives Eat My Dust a much more important status than one would think it actually deserves. It's a simple scene, really. After Darlene fades away into the dark, the owner of the car emerges from the stands and offers Hoover a job as his new driver in the races. Hoover accepts and the credits roll. That's it. Again, taken alone, it's no big deal. But if you know your early 70s car movies, then you recognize that something has changed. In the wake of Easy Rider, movie characters traveling the roadways had become so disillusioned and so detached from society, that they saw no options left other than to keep driving until they went mad or died or both. Hoover just gets a job.

I know it sounds crazy, but I think what we have here in this little Roger Corman produced no-budget quickie from 1976 is nothing more than the first signs of a paradigm shift in the American conscious. (Okay, once you've picked your jaw up off the floor where it dropped in disbelief, we'll continue.) If critics like the aforementioned Mr. Peary are correct, and the road movies of the early 70s reflected an undercurrent of feelings of alienation and helplessness over Vietnam and Watergate, then Eat My Dust reflects an emerging attitude of getting through it and getting back to work. If you think I'm overreaching here then consider the fact that Smokey and The Bandit was released just one year later. In that movie, Burt Reynolds accepts a cross-continental delivery job, makes a bet he can do it in record time, and along the way becomes a folk hero. Folks, that's the EXACT same plot as Vanishing Point. But whereas the earlier film ends in fiery death, Smokey ends with Burt winning the bet and... accepting another job. Hah! Ridicule me all you want, but I believe that in the sub-genre of car movies, Eat My Dust represents the first shot fired against the spiritual malaise of the early 70s. (And the New York Times said it didn't matter.)

Of course, I'm saying this with 30 years of hindsight and a stack of film magazines next to me. It's highly unlikely that the makers of Eat My Dust had any such thing in mind while they were in production. (Ron Howard himself once dismissed the movie as nothing more than the one where Opie gets laid.) But knowingly or not, the battle against the prevailing mindset of the early 70s was going on in the arts. When Walker Percy, author of The Moviegoer (my kind of book title) and Love in the Ruins: The Adventures of a Bad Catholic at a Time Near the End of the World, was asked what worried him most about America's future, he answered, "Probably the fear of seeing America, with all its great strength and beauty and freedom... gradually subside into decay through default and be defeated, not by the communist movement... but from within by weariness, boredom, cynicism, greed, and in the end helplessness before its great problems." St. Gregory The Great had a term for this kind of life-robbing dreariness. He called it "acedia". These days we recognize it by its more familiar name of Sloth. That's right, Sloth, the red-headed step child of the seven deadly sins. (There goes my Irish readership.) Sloth gets little respect these days because whenever most people hear the word they usually think of simple laziness. (Or that guy tied to the bed in the movie Seven, but we're not going there.) But you have to think there's more to Sloth than just the basic lack of desire to work, otherwise why would the Catechism list it as one of the capital sins of man?

Capital sins, as the Catechism explains, are called such because they engender other sins, other vices. How does this work with Sloth? Father Paul A. Duffner, O.P. puts it this way. "Friendship with God has its obligations, and those obligations can in time come to be seen as burdens, as joy-killers rather than sources of joy; and can give rise to a sadness that stands in the way of fulfilling those obligations. This peculiar sadness, comments Fr. F. Cunningham, O.P., which leads to a neglect of the spiritual duties that flow from sharing in God’s friendship is called sloth... a kind of spiritual paralysis that leads to the neglect of our duties." Father Duffner goes on to add, "The sin of sloth causes one to shun many things because of the sorrow or unpleasantness involved, and to seek many unlawful things as a means of escape from his depressing state; and because of this it begets many other sins." This is exactly the state of mind the protagonists of the early 70s car movies find themselves in. Overwhelmed by the state of the world and the effort required to do something about it, they instead withdraw into the isolation of their car interiors, fall into reckless unlawfulness, and eventually lose their souls. Even Hoover, goaded by Darlene, seems to be on this route throughout most of Eat My Dust. But at the end of the day, when confronted with the harshness of reality, rather than follow Darlene into hopeless escapism, Hoover just gets a job.

And that's what we as Christians have to do sometimes when spiritual apathy begins to creep in. Father Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. advises that "to recover the spirit of faith, enthusiasm and generosity in the love of God, we must daily courageously impose little sacrifices on ourself in those matters in which we are weakest... The first steps are costly, but after a bit the task becomes easier... even when sensible joy is lacking." This is the exact point which dozens of better written, more intelligent blogs have made when addressing the recent Time Magazine article regarding Mother Teresa and her decades long struggle with feelings of spiritual loneliness. She didn't withdraw into herself and succumb to Sloth, she did the job, and tens of thousands of Indians are glad she did. Whether being fueled by joy or something even deeper, the Christian spirit can be pretty hard to stop once it gains momentum. Like Hoover said, it would take running into a wall or something. We just have to keep in mind that in Christianity the wall we most often run into is ourselves.

(I just linked Mother Teresa to Eat My Dust. This is either one of my proudest moments or deepest shames.)

THE STINGER

Hey, if you think I over-analyzed a simple carsploitation movie, then you might want to avoid the DOCUMENT OF THE PONTIFICAL COUNCIL FOR THE PASTORAL CARE OF MIGRANTS AND ITINERANT PEOPLE: GUIDELINES FOR THE PASTORAL CARE OF THE ROAD issued by the Vatican on June 19, 2007. (Note to The Holy See: Please consider reassigning whatever bishop is in charge of coming up with document titles.) The study included sections on "The Pastoral Ministry for the Liberation of Street Women", "The Pastoral Care of Street Children", and "The Pastoral Care of the Homeless (Tramps)". But the only section that really got any press at all (other than a few indignant yelps over the use of the word Tramps) was "The Pastoral Care of Road Users" due to a small sub-section which stated, "We have drawn up a special “decalogue” for road users, in analogy with the Lord’s Ten Commandments." Yep, the Vatican issued a Ten Commandments for Road Users. (Fortunately, most of the jokes which followed were fairly good-natured.) Here they are.

1. You shall not kill.
2. The road shall be for you a means of communion between people and not of mortal harm.
3. Courtesy, uprightness and prudence will help you deal with unforeseen events.
4. Be charitable and help your neighbour in need, especially victims of accidents.
5. Cars shall not be for you an expression of power and domination, and an occasion of sin.
6. Charitably convince the young and not so young not to drive when they are not in a fitting condition to do so.
7. Support the families of accident victims.
8. Bring guilty motorists and their victims together, at the appropriate time, so that they can undergo the liberating experience of forgiveness.
9. On the road, protect the more vulnerable party.
10. Feel responsible towards others.

These "commandments" seem so obvious (like the recent award-winning warning label found on a laundromat washing machine which read, “Do not put any person in this washer”) that you would think even a journalist would understand them. However, during a press conference on the document, one reporter asked the President of the Council just when could a car become an occasion of sin. Cardinal Renato Martino replied curtly, "When a car is used as a place for sin." Somebody please send that guy a copy of Eat My Dust so he'll know what the Cardinal was talking about.

SHORT FEATURE: JAC MAC AND RADBOY

How's about a little more pedal to the metal excitement to go along with this week's main feature! It's The Fast and The Furious meets Dante's Inferno.



Now put down that cold brew-ha-ha and turn to paragraph 1809 in the Catechism where we read, "Temperance is the moral virtue that moderates the attraction of pleasures and provides balance in the use of created goods. It ensures the will's mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable. The temperate person directs the sensitive appetites toward what is good and maintains a healthy discretion: "Do not follow your inclination and strength, walking according to the desires of your heart." Temperance is often praised in the Old Testament: "Do not follow your base desires, but restrain your appetites." In the New Testament it is called "moderation" or "sobriety." We ought "to live sober, upright, and godly lives in this world." So BYOB leeches, just in moderation.

WEEKLY NEWSREEL

Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Catholic, and all you other Christians at sea. It's not getting any more sane out there in the world of celebrity, but we persevere for your sake. Remember, today's gossip is tomorrow's Bible study. Now off to press.

DATELINE: THE FINAL FRONTIER - ALL WHOSE YESTERDAYS?

For those who remember our review of Final Exam: The Novelization, it should come as no surprise that the canon police are at it again, only this time they're keeping a wary eye on The Federation. Samuel K. Sloan, writing for Slice of Sci-Fi, is slightly suspicious of J. J. Abrams upcoming Star Trek film which appears to feature characters from the original series as youngsters during their days at Starfleet Academy. He writes, "I became more concerned about timelines and how this could all come together without violating the sacred Trek canon that any Trek fan holds as near and dear as a sacred holy book." One wonders what a disgruntled ex-Catholic secular humanist like Gene Rodenberry would think of this kind of organized religious tone seeping into his creation? Since the Catechism reminds us "it is also true that God "desires all men to be saved" (1 Tim 2:4), and that for him "all things are possible" (Mt 19:26)." , there's nothing wrong in hoping that one day we get to ask him.

DATELINE: GERMANY - A FEW GOOD MEN, AND THEN THERE'S ALL THE REST

Back on Earth it's time to once again check in with perennial easy target Tom Cruise. CNN reports that eleven people were injured when they fell off the back of a truck during the shooting of Tom's World War II drama Valkyrie. But don't fret or lose sleep worrying over Mr. Cruise. A spokesman for the German police informs us, "We have no findings to suggest anyone famous was involved in the accident." What a relief that only the peons were injured! The Catechism, quoting John Henry Cardinal Newman, reminds us that "wealth is one idol of the day and notoriety is a second... Notoriety, or the making of a noise in the world - it may be called "newspaper fame" - has come to be considered a great good in itself, and a ground of veneration." The Scientology homepage appears to confirm this with the statement, "We instinctively revere the great artist, painter or musician and society as a whole looks upon them as not quite ordinary beings. And they are not. They are a cut above man." Riiiight. In contrast, as Christians, we are called to remember that "created in the image of the one God and equally endowed with rational souls, all men have the same nature and the same origin. Redeemed by the sacrifice of Christ, all are called to participate in the same divine beatitude: all therefore enjoy an equal dignity." Here at The B-Movie Catechism, we believe we'll stick with the teachings which tell us that the eleven people injured in the accident matter just as much to the world as Mr. Cruise.

DATELINE: MADISON AVENUE - HEY, YOU'VE GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY, OR ELSE

And finally, the Catechism reminds us that "religious singing by the faithful is to be intelligently fostered so that in devotions and sacred exercises as well as in liturgical services," in conformity with the Church's norms, "the voices of the faithful may be heard." But "the texts intended to be sung must always be in conformity with Catholic doctrine." If only the doctrine of conformity between music and subject matter was also a requirement in marketing. IMDB news sadly informs us that "Superstar Michael Jackson has licensed the use of the Beatles' song "All You Need Is Love" for a series of new advertisements - for a diaper company." Like the Beatles or not, you have to admit that's pretty crappy, literally.

And it's on that off-key note that we draw to a close this week's newsreel. Quoting, as always, the words of the great Les Nessman, "Good day, and may the good news be yours."

This week's Newsreel has been brought to you (no, not really) by: Clergy Girl Dolls, available exclusively at oldlutheran.com

"What a great doll to display on the shelf of women clergy everywhere. Grace is also perfect for any aspiring clergy girls toy box. "Includes: Pastor Grace Doll, Black Clergy Girl shirt, Matching Black skirt, Cross, Chalice and Bible; Coming soon, Clergy girl robe and Clergy girl stole. Complete set will include ordination certificate. "

COMING ATTRACTIONS: EAT MY DUST

THE HIDEOUS SUN DEMON

TYPICAL REVIEW

"Word of advice to any future directors out there: never put a word like “hideous” in your title. It’s just too tempting for movie reviewers to use it against you." - Kelly Parks, feoamante.com

THE PLOT

Showing up to work drunk, again, Dr. Gilbert McKenna accidentally exposes himself to a massive dose of spaaaace radiation. But instead of getting super powers like that oh-so-cool Human Torch guy, Gil instead develops a strange skin condition. If caught in the direct sunlight Gil "devolves" (yeah, I know, we'll get to it) into a grotesque reptilian creature, a fact he first learns by scaring little old ladies in the park. While his medical colleagues (and for some inexplicable reason, his girlfriend Ann) work on a cure, Gil locks himself away, venturing out only at night to get drunk (again), curse his fate, and hang out with Trudy the town floozy. Unable to completely avoid the sunlight, Gil has a few of his "episodes", getting successively more violent with each one. In quick order he goes from crushing rats to mauling the floozy's regular Saturday night boyfriend to gleefully running over cops in his car. It all leads to a final showdown atop a water tower.

THE POINT

Hollywood has given us a long and distinguished line of sympathetic creatures, from the misunderstood Frankenstein's Monster to the tortured Wolfman to the heartsick King Kong. They may scare us, but something about them tugs at the heartstrings, eliciting our empathy even as we gasp in terror. Not so with the Hideous Sun Demon. Whether as man or monster, he's just an a-hole.

Producer-director-writer-lead actor Bob Clarke claimed that his intention was to update Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde for the atomic age, with Gil as the beleaguered scientist struggling to contain the monster within himself. Maybe so. But the idea might have worked better if the protagonist wasn't a self-absorbed alcoholic womanizer who recklessly endangers everyone in the area by playing around with fissionable material while under the influence. By the time Gil is curled up in a fetus position crying out, "No one can help me, what I've got is DIFFERENT! Why me? Why me? WHY ME!!", all you can think is, "Because you deserve it you insufferable jerk."

But other than that, The Hideous Sun Demon is just good old B-Movie fun. How can you not like a movie where they could only afford the top half of a rubber monster suit? (The Sun Demon wears khakis throughout the film.) Or how about when Gil first sees Trudy in a seedy bar faking her way through playing the piano, her hands flailing about like she's tenderizing meat? (Nan Peterson, who played Trudy and whose next role would be the lead in Louisiana Hussy, was probably not hired for her musical talents.) And how cool is it that, rather than ponderously lumbering through the woods like some idiot slasher, the Sun Demon just gets in a car and drives wherever he wants to go? How many other B-Movie mutants rack up a body count by hit and run?

Now I know you're probably thinking the incident in which Gil runs over the cop could be considered an accident because, after all, reptiles aren't considered very good drivers. And, unlike most lizards, Gil's eyes are on the front of his face, so his peripheral vision isn't that great to begin with. But that's no excuse. I watched the movie and he ran over that guy on purpose, no matter what scientific theories you toss my way. Actually, that's another thing which adds to the movie's absurdity. The Hideous Sun Demon is one of those productions that proudly wears its bad B-Movie science on its sleeve for all to see. After Gil's initial transformation, the movie grinds to a halt for almost five minutes as the lead scientist gives a lecture IN DETAIL on why all of this is actually possible. You see, it's based on Ernst Haeckel's Biogenetic Law, first proposed in 1866, which claims that an embryo fully repeats the evolutionary process of its species before it's born. In other words, a human being starts out as a single cell organism, then becomes a fish, then a reptile, and finally a mammal. So you see, all Gil did was reverse this process and "devolve" himself back into a reptilian state, just like he was back in the womb again. (Well, except for being 5' 10" and dressed in khakis.) It all seems to make perfect scientific sense.

Except, of course, that it's all crap. You see, poor old Haeckel verified his theory through the visual inspection of dead fetuses and without the benefit of our modern lenses. These days, with the ability to actually take a microscopic peek inside a living pregnant woman, biologists have learned that some of Haekel's "proofs" (i.e. fetal gill slits) aren't what he thought they were. (I guess, even in science, looks can be deceiving.) Plus there's the fact that evolutionary theory isn't really about a neat linear process anyway; it's about entire species haphazardly adapting traits over a long period of time. If you think about it, the idea that human women carry inhuman eggs which undergo a series of transmutations of species and end up being human beings EVERY SINGLE TIME really pushes the envelope of credibility just a little too far. Let's face it, we start out as tiny single-celled humans and we end up as crotchety old humans. So even if it was somehow possible to miraculously reverse the developmental process, no human (not even an atheist) could ever "devolve" into another species.

But who really cares? After all, this is just a movie with a guy in a rubber monster suit. (Not that there's anything wrong with that!) So as long as it's entertaining, most movie fans will be pretty forgiving when it comes to bad science. (Insert obligatory Star Wars comment here.) Of course, in real life it's different. In real life it's better if we try and get the science right. Both the Catholic Church and Galileo Galilei learned this the hard way when they butted heads over Galileo's theories about heliocentricity in the early 1600s. Everybody knows the story right? The Indigo Girls even released a song referencing it back in 1992. You know the words, "Galileo’s head was on the block, the crime was looking up the truth.” Emily Saliers wrote the song, but her singing partner Amy Ray had a degree in religion, so to believe they got the story right would seem to make perfect sense.

Except, of course, that it's all crap. As far back as Aristotle there were already scientists, including a number of Jesuits, who were speculating on the theory that the Earth revolved around the Sun. They were just hesitant to embrace it, however, because the theory contradicted the literal interpretations of certain Bible verses and, more importantly, couldn’t be proved as fact given the technology of Galileo’s time. (Even some of Galileo's own "evidence" was wrong. Scientists didn't authoritatively prove the theory correct for another 100 years or so.) Until it could be irrefutably proven, The Church had given permission to teach heliocentricity only as a theory, not as fact, and certainly not as reason to reinterpret scripture. Galileo, thanks mostly to a misunderstanding on his part, ended up doing both and getting in trouble with a Church tribunal. For his disobedience, he ultimately received a strict form of house arrest. So his crime wasn't looking up the truth and his head was never on the block. (Don't worry, you can't still sip your cappuccino to the dulcet tones of earthy folk rockers, just don't phone them up for your history lessons.)

Still, the Church tribunal did goof. As Pope John Paul II put it, "The new science, with its methods and the freedom of research which they implied, obliged theologians to examine their own criteria of scriptural interpretation. Most of them did not know how to do so. Paradoxically, Galileo, a sincere believer, showed himself to be more perceptive in this regard than the theologians who opposed him. "If Scripture cannot err", he wrote to Benedetto Castelli, "certain of its interpreters and commentators can and do so in many ways". "The irony of the affair" wrote Crisis editor George Sim Johnston, "is that Galileo's argument that Scripture makes use of figurative language and is meant to teach "how to go to heaven, not how the heavens go" was eventually taught by two great papal encyclicals, Leo XIII's Providentissumus Deus (1893) and Pius XII's Divino Afflante Spiritu (1943)." So it would seem that we've finally reached a point where we understand that religion does its thing and science does it thing and never the twain shall meet. That makes perfect sense right?

Nah, that's crap too. If we truly believe that the Church is infallible in her objective definitive teaching regarding faith and morals, then the Church is under an obligation to have some things to say about science. "Science and technology are ordered to man, from whom they take their origin and development" states the Catechism, "hence they find in the person and in his moral values both evidence of their purpose and awareness of their limits. It is an illusion to claim moral neutrality in scientific research and its applications." Science is still just a human act, and no human act is so methodical and controlled that it can't benefit from a little wisdom and guidance. Left on their own, scientists, like everyone else, can get offtrack and ultimately do something negligent or harmful. Like show up to work on a nuclear reactor drunk. Again.

THE STINGER

A lot of people don't know that the Catholic Church still employs its own team of scientists comprised of both lay people and ordained priests. The Vatican itself houses one of the premier observatories in the world. The 80-member Pontifical Academy of Sciences (now over 400 years old) meets every two years to offer their findings and advice to the Church. The Academy includes many Nobel Prize Winners, including Stephen Hawkins, who offer council on issues such as the implications of genetics and environmental concerns. In 1996 the Academy was extremely influential in advising the Pope when he attempted to reconcile the theory of evolution with the biblical story of Creation.

SHORT FEATURE: SMILE, DARN YOU, SMILE!

Let's see. I've got my feature presentations, my coming attractions, and my newsreels. I even take an intermission here and there. But it still feels like something is missing. Ah Hah! I've got it. How can you possibly have a Saturday matinée without cartoons and such? You can't, of course. So every week or so, we're just going to have to throw one in. And since the shorts are... well, short, that's what the comments will be also. That should just about complete the old matinée experience. (I suppose I could fly to your house, make you some popcorn, and tell you to get your feet off the seats and back on the sticky floor where they belong, but I think we're good with what we've got.) And what better way to start off our short features than with that old classic starring Mickey and Min... er, Foxy and Roxy, "Smile, Darn You, Smile!"



From The Catechism: "The virtue of hope responds to the aspiration to happiness which God has placed in the heart of every man; it takes up the hopes that inspire men's activities and purifies them so as to order them to the Kingdom of heaven; it keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment; it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude. Buoyed up by hope, he is preserved from selfishness and led to the happiness that flows from charity."

We're Christians people, we have hope. Make a joyful noise. Smile, darn you, smile!

COMING ATTRACTIONS: THE HIDEOUS SUN DEMON

A few weeks back, The Curt Jester, author of everybody's favorite Catholic humor blog, had some nice things to say about our own meager efforts here at the B-Movie Catechism. Along with causing a very noticeable spike in the number of folks entering our turnstiles, he also made mention of his affinity for movies with guys in rubber monster suits. It just wouldn't be right if I didn't give him one in thanks for his kind words. (Of course, if you've seen The Hideous Sun Demon, you might be questioning whether this an act of gratitude on my part or not.)

INTERMISSION

Wow, it's been a while since I stepped outside the auditorium. But who wants to? Have you checked the temperature outside lately? I don't know what it's like where you are, but my part of the world has gone all Damnation Alley like. (Hmm, should really review that one sometime.) It's just so nice and dark and cool in the theater. It's already calling to me,"Come back, coooome baaaack". But anyway, I'm in the lobby for a few minutes, and it looks like someone's left a message.

Dadwithnoisykids (he's got like thirty of them or something) over at Scorpion Stalking Duck has tagged me with the Why I Love Jesus Meme. The rules on this one are pretty simple. Those tagged will share 5 things they love about Jesus and must tag 5 other bloggers. Those tagged must provide a link in the comments box here with their name so that others can read them. Fair enough. But as my close friends already know, and what those who visit here shouldn't be surprised by, is that I can rarely make it through a single sentence without a movie reference. So with that it mind, here are my 5 Things I Love About Jesus.

(1) "Have you found Jesus yet Gump?" "I didn't know I was supposed to be looking for him sir." - Forrest Gump

I was not raised a Christian (or anything else for that matter). I can count on my fingers the number of times I attended a church service during my pre-adolescent days. But once I finally went looking for God, imagine my surprise to find out that He had been there all along, close by, laying the groundwork for our first official face-to-face meeting. And he did the same thing for each and every member of my family in there own due time. I love Jesus because He's always there, whether we know it or not.

(2) “Dear Lord baby Jesus, we thank you so much for this bountiful harvest of Dominos, KFC, and the always delicious Taco Bell. I just want to take time to say thank you for my family. My two sons, Walker, and Texas Ranger, or TR as we call him. And of course my red hot smokin' wife Carley, who is a stone cold fox." - Talladega Nights

In middle school, when I finally became a Christian and started my journey into the Church, my beginners prayers were not what you would call eloquent. It went something like, "Thank you Lord, for everything." I still trot that old prayer out every now and then, although it has a much deeper meaning to me these days as I've come to understand that "everything" doesn't just include the good stuff I've been given. I love Jesus for teaching me to be thankful for everything.

(3) "O God, ease our suffering in this, our moment of great dispair. Yea, admit this kind and decent woman into thy arms of thine heavenly area, up there. And Moab, he lay us upon the band of the Canaanites, and yea, though the Hindus speak of karma, I implore you: give her a break." "Clark..." "Honey, I'm not an ordained minister; I'm doing my best." - National Lampoon's Vacation

I didn't start out very eloquent as a Christian, and I ain't much better now. I love Jesus because He's able to work with what He's got.

(4) "Ahh, Jesus, I like him very much, but He no help with curveball" "Are you trying to say Jesus Christ can't hit a curveball?" - Major League

The spiritual journey can be bumpy sometimes. I actually jumped ship from the Church in my late teens and didn't come back for almost two decades. My second (and final) time entering the Church was less emotional and much more intellectual than the first time around. I love Jesus because He let's us ask the hard questions. And He has answers.

(5) "Hey Ray. Do you believe in God?" "Never met him." "Yeah, well I do. And I love Jesus's style, you know." - Ghostbusters

Once you're in, and you're open to it, it can be surprising where the Spirit leads you. Especially when it comes to opportunities to share the faith. Back in the late 90s, right before I started to figure out there was something to this whole organized religion thing, I had developed a rather nasty attitude towards the current crop of high schoolers. I thought they were lost, hopeless, spoiled, arrogant, filthy... well, you get the idea. Basically I couldn't stand to be anywhere within earshot of even one of them. A few years ago the head of religious education at my parish told me she wanted me to work with a group she had discerned I was perfect for. Guess which one? I love Jesus because He's smarter than I am.

Well, that's probably more than dadwithnoisykids was expecting. I would imagine he, along with anyone else who hung on till the end of this, may have a movie quote of their own in mind.

"At no point, in your rambling incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points and may God have mercy on your soul." - Billy Madison

Probably time to head back into the theater where I belong.

(Oh, as for passing this along. After checking around, I'm pretty sure the handful of bloggers I've become acquainted with over the past few months have already been tagged. So, in a total cop out, I tag the first 5 people who read my blog but never leave comments.)

SHOCK WAVES

TYPICAL REVIEW

"First of all, it manages to escape what most zombie movies can’t…simply being a crappy movie. If you can at least be an average zombie film, with the glut of all the really bad ones, you’re destined to stick out among the crowd." - Dead Kev, All Things Zombie

THE PLOT

Following an unexplained solar event (a.k.a. yellow filter on the camera lens) a mysterious ship appears from nowhere and sinks a small tourist boat. The water logged survivors make their way to a supposedly uninhabited island where they discover a former SS commander (Peter Cushing, stuck in Moff Tarkin mode from Star Wars, which was filming the same year) holed up in an abandoned hotel. It seems the old fellow has been in self imposed isolation keeping watch just in case his battalion of superhuman underwater zombie Nazis should resurface. (I never get tired of writing stuff like that.) As he explains, using a combination of science and sorcery, the Third Reich created the Death Corps, undead soldiers manufactured to operate in otherwise fatal environments. The problem was that the original test subjects were taken from the only stock available, imprisoned madmen and sociopaths, the type of personalities not inclined to take orders. (Stupid Nazis.) The creatures were ordered destroyed, but as it turns out, merely sinking a boat full of zombies specifically modified to be amphibious isn't really a permanent solution. (Did I mention the stupid Nazis?) Now, decades later, the Death Corps has arisen with only one purpose in mind; destroy every living thing in its path.

THE POINT

Zombie Nazis. I hate these guys.

Not just because they're zombies, a group of monsters who are seriously wearing out their welcome due to overexposure. And not just because they're Nazis, a group of monsters overused by scriptwriters too lazy to come up with more original villains. No, I hate zombie Nazis because, when the two are combined, they almost always make wretched movies. Starting with 1941's King of the Zombies and continuing on through such bombs as Night of the Zombies, Oasis of the Zombies, and Zombie Lake, the zombie Nazi film has left a trail of putrid stink throughout the world's cinemas for decades. So when a DVD's cover art bears a blurb proudly proclaiming it to be the "best of the Nazi zombie movies", you can only think sarcastically to yourself, "Yeah, that's not gonna take a whole lot!"

And fortunately for Shock Waves it doesn't, because for most people, this movie isn't going to give a whole lot. Gore-hounds will discover this is probably the most bloodless, sexless post-Romero zombie movie you can find. (The zombies have a few scabs if that counts for anything.) Thrill seekers will be disappointed with the scarcity of "jump out of your seat" moments. (In fact, there are a couple of scenes where someone spots the zombies standing off in the distance and... both groups just check each other out for awhile before walking away.) And anybody even remotely interested in believability will just have to run screaming. (They just keep going in the water. Zombies in the water. Farewell and adieu to you, fair Spanish ladies.) So many of the recognizable touchstones of a good horror movie are simply missing from Shock Waves.

"But there's another kind of horror, a subtler, more seductive and lingering kind." says producer Bill Mechanic in an interview with Time magazine. "Some of the best horror movies had a certain elegance to them... They are to the gore fests as romantic dramas are to porn. They are about mood, atmosphere, the notion that death is everywhere and inevitable." Mood and atmosphere; that's like bread and water to the true horror fan. We might love movies that give us a full course banquet of horror, but we can subsist off mood and atmosphere when all else in the movie lays barren. And Shock Waves pretty much lets you know that "bread and water" is what it's going to give you right from the beginning.

As the movie opens, a loan castaway from the tourist ship is rescued from a drifting lifeboat. (Yep, like our old friend Mesa Of Lost Women, it's another story told in flashback.) Normally I would criticize a horror movie which let's you know in the very first scene who survives, but this time it seems designed to let you know the film's focus is on tone rather than suspense. You can especially see this in the movie's unique approach to the undead. These are neither your catatonic pop-eyed natives nor your modern slavering brain-munching ghouls. The Aryan zombies of Shock Waves are quietly eerie and visually striking as they march through the water in their uniforms and black goggles (which are an actual plot point by the way, not just a fashion choice). They're especially creepy in scenes where they float in repose, face up, mere inches below the water line. It's almost as if they were a natural part of the landscape. In fact, all of the settings in the movie are used to great effect. The Florida swamps, where the producers somehow managed to find a real abandoned hotel, feel tangible, yet very remote and dreamlike in the haze and fog. And it's all played out in that recognizable 1970s style pacing, which will probably seem lethargic to the post-MTV quick-cut generation, but is intended to be mildly hypnotic. Shock Waves is the kind of movie that's best viewed when you're curled up under a blanket on the edge of sleep; when you're entering that state of consciousness where dream logic is just starting to take over. Shock Waves, like a dream, doesn't make a whole lot of sense when you wake up and think about it rationally, but it maintains its own workable logic while you're there.

Zombie Nazis. Wouldn't it have been nice if the SS actually had wasted their time working on that kind of crap rather than committing the real atrocities they did? Oh sure, it's generally accepted that Himmler, head of the SS, was something of an occultist. But according to The Occult Roots of Nazism by Nicholas Goodrick-Clarke, Himmler's interest lay mainly in neo-paganistic new-agey type stuff like crystals, spirit guides, tarot cards, and fortune telling. Not quite on the same level as calling on the dark forces to raise the evil dead. As for Hitler, who really knows? He seems to have picked and chosen from various belief systems anything that would help solidify his hold on power. Of course, that doesn't stop nutballs (is that uncharitable?) like John Patrick Michael Murphy from writing in Free Inquiry magazine "Hitler was a Roman Catholic, baptized into that religio-political institution as an infant in Austria. He became a communicant and an altar boy in his youth and was confirmed as a "soldier of Christ" in that church. Its worst doctrines never left him. He was steeped in its liturgy, which contained the words "perfidious jew." This hateful statement was not removed until 1961. "Perfidy" means treachery. In his day, hatred of Jews was the norm. In great measure it was sponsored by two major religions of Germany, Catholicism, and Lutheranism."

Let’s face it. Nobody wants to claim Hitler. And it sure would have been nice if he had been raised in some goat-worshiping pagan cult or something like that. But the sad fact is that he was indeed baptized Catholic as an infant and probably served as an altar boy. Which in the end, at least to adults, means absolutely nothing. You might just as well claim that spinning dreidels as a boy is what turned the Jewish David Berkowitz into the Son of Sam. No matter what religion or philosophy he adopted over the years it all comes down to the fact that Hitler was a sociopath of the highest order and using him as the poster boy for anything is just grasping at straws. (Like I insinuated at the start of this review, we really need to find us some new uber-villains.) But it is interesting that Murphy's article, written years ago, brings up the "perfidious Jews" line from the Good Friday liturgy instituted in 1570 by Pope Pius V. You know, the one that's been repeatedly misreported in the news lately as being reinstated by Pope Benedict XVI. I'm not even going to talk about that. By now, anybody who wants to know the truth realizes that the prayer for the "perfidious Jews" will not be said in any mass allowed by the Pope's Summorum Pontificum document. That said, it doesn't change the fact that it WAS there for a long time.

"The history of the relationship between Israel and Christendom is drenched with blood and tears." said a then Cardinal Ratzinger. "It is a history of mistrust and hostility, but also - thank God - a history marked again and again by attempts at forgiveness, understanding and mutual acceptance. After Auschwitz, the mission of reconciliation and acceptance permits no deferral." It was in this spirit that Pope John Paul II apologized to the Jews on the first Sunday of Lent in 2000, "We are deeply saddened by the behavior of those who in the course of history have caused these children of yours to suffer. We wish to commit ourselves to genuine brotherhood with the people of the Covenant." Beyond condemning antisemitism and acknowledging common objectives, though, what does that mean? As brothers, do we no longer teach that the Jews are in need of Jesus?

The Catechism tells us that "the Jewish faith, unlike other non-Christian religions, is already a response to God's revelation in the Old Covenant. To the Jews "belong the sonship, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and of their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ", "for the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable." Which kind of sounds like they aren't. But the Catechism also tells us that "Having been divinely sent to the nations that she might be 'the universal sacrament of salvation,' the Church, in obedience to the command of her founder and because it is demanded by her own essential universality, strives to preach the Gospel to all men." "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you." Which definitely says they are. Is the Catechism contradicting itself?

Bwah hah hah hah! Like I'm really going to say yes? When it comes to evangelizing, the Catechism is pretty straight forward. "The duty of Christians to take part in the life of the Church impels them to act as witnesses of the Gospel and of the obligations that flow from it. This witness is a transmission of the faith in words and deeds." What's at issue here is not whether we should evangelize, of course we should. The question is how? "To every thing there is a season" says the Bible, and so there are definitely times for confrontational apologetic battles, even with the Jews. But perhaps what the Catechism and the last few Popes have been getting at is that, given the events in our shared history that are still relatively fresh, maybe this isn't that time. Maybe this really is a time to transmit the faith through different kinds of words. A time for apologies, for teshuvah, for reconciliation. (I hear that God can do wonders with those kinds of things.) So for the moment, let's stick with the prayer for the Jews we have in the current Good Friday liturgy. "Let us pray for the Jewish people, the first to hear the word of God, that they may continue to grow in the love of his name and in faithfulness to his covenant. Almighty and eternal God, long ago you gave your promise to Abraham and his posterity. Listen to your Church as we pray that the people you first made your own may arrive at the fullness of redemption. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen." Maybe it's not watered down theology after all, but rather the right prayer for the right time. If nothing else, maybe it'll at least diffuse any more of those ridiculous and tiresome Hitler comments.

Stupid Nazis.

THE STINGER

A 1978 study by psychologist Samuel Janus found that roughly 80% of professional comedians were Jewish. Most of the rest were raised Catholic. The study would seem to suggest that there must be some similarities in upbringing and experience in Catholic and Jewish homes to produce that kind of statistic. For a jackass like me, however, the first question that comes to mind is why aren't there more funny Protestants?

WEEKLY NEWSREEL

Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Catholic and all you other Christians at sea. We're going to keep doing this till someone begs us to stop. Remember, today's gossip is tomorrow's Bible study. Now let's go to press.

DATELINE: LOUISIANA - MISS SCARLETT IN THE CONSERVATORY WITH A... MICROPHONE?

Film Junk shakes its head in wonder over the news that actress Scarlett Johansson is working on an album of Tom Waits covers entitled (wait for it) Scarlett Sings Tom Waits. The album will also contain duets with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Celebration. In all fairness, the B-Movie Catechism has not heard Ms. Johansson sing, and we dutifully make note of the Catechism when it reminds us that "By means of society, each man is established as an "heir" and receives certain "talents" that enrich his identity and whose fruits he must develop." However, it does go on to add in another section, rather bluntly, "The "talents" are not distributed equally." After 4 volumes of Golden Throats, we here await the impending CD release with fear and trembling.

DATELINE: CALIFORNIA - HE IS HAPPIEST WHO FINDS PEACE IN HIS HO(L)ME(S)

A tidbit found buried on the IMDB news site informs us that Scientology's favorite poster couple Tom Cruise & Katie Holmes have recently purchased land in the celebrity haven of Montecito in order to build an estate. This relatively small community is already the home of such distinguished names as Oprah Winfrey, Ellen DeGeneres, and Avril Lavigne. This is not the kind of story one wishes to see so soon after browsing through the book of Revelations and seeing this verse, "Then I saw the beast gathering the kings of the earth and their armies in order to fight against the one sitting on the horse and his army." Fortunately, this page at Catholic Answers gives a brief, but sufficient, explanation on why Catholicism rejects premillennialism. For a split second we thought it would be necessary to issue an emergency bulleting advising all of us soon-to-be "Left Behind" Catholics to start stockpiling canned goods.

DATELINE: CONECTICUT - THAT OLD JEDI MIND TRICK WON'T WORK ON US, BOY

And in a follow up to our own review of Final Exam: The Novelization, we give you this. In case you somehow missed it, Ain't It Cool News passes along a photo from the set of the new Indiana Jones movie which shows George Lucas talking to Harrison Ford while wearing a t-shirt proclaiming "HAN SHOT FIRST". The article states that "this isn't something of earth-shattering importance... but to some of us, it's a sign. A sign that perhaps the great one is remembering the way it was and should always have been." Amen.

And it's on that happy note that we draw to a close this week's newsreel. Quoting again the words of the great Les Nessman, "Good day, and may the good news be yours."

COMING ATTRACTIONS: SHOCK WAVES