DANCING

There once lived a lonely man on the 6th floor of an apartment building. One day, he noticed the figure of a woman dancing in a swaying motion in an apartment across from his building. The curtain was drawn, so he could only see the shadow. Everyday he looked out his window, he would see her dancing. Finally, the lonely man fell in love with the dancing woman and decided to pay her a visit. He bought a bouquet of fresh flowers and went to her building, climbing the steps to her floor.

He knocked on the door many times, but no one answered. He could have sworn that he had just seen her dancing in the window. Worried that something had happened to her, he kicked the door open and was heart broken by what he saw.

The woman was hanging from the ceiling in front of the window, her body swaying from side to side as if she were dancing.

WHAT'S THAT? YOU'D LIKE A CREEPY CLOWN?

Well, all right.

READ: COUNTDOWN CITY (BOOK 2 IN THE LAST POLICEMAN SERIES)

The post-asteroid-announcement world sure has changed since we last saw Detective Henry Palace in The Last Policeman, the first book in Ben H. Winters' apocalyptic existential detective mystery series. He's no longer employed by the Concorde Police Department (though he hasn't given up on detecting, either). The populace has grown more savage; animal-like. Survival has become the name of the game, though with an asteroid hurtling toward earth and ready to make contact in 77 days, there is little hope for anyone withstanding its inevitable landing. Palace's former lover is still dead, his last official case as a Concorde detective nearly forgotten by everyone but himself, and he's still holing up in a ramshackle unfurnished house with his adopted dog, Houdini. 

His newest case, taken on gratis in order to help, of all people, the person who used to babysit him and his sister, Nico, when they were kids, involves a missing husband, a strange anti-government conspiracy group, and an anticipated breakdown of society. Familiar characters make reappearances and are along for the ride, some making more significant contributions than others, but all of whom provide a surreal feeling of comfort by proving that Palace hasn't become the isolationist that he considers himself.

Though there wasn't much that needed improving in the series' first book, Countdown City still manages to be a far better read and far more captivating story. Perhaps it's because, by now, the end of days looming over everyone's heads is very established. The dismantling of humankind continues, as it was already well underway, only now this dismantling has achieved a disturbing yet morbidly realistic rapidity. Much like the most basic tenet of mystery-noir, the ground-level crime that Detective Palace is investigating leads him to a path that opens up his eyes to something far more shocking that's occurring, only this time the two events are connected only by a single character, as opposed to an all-encompassing conspiracy under which Palace's crime unfolded, and by which it was directly or inadvertently inspired. What that all means, essentially, is author Ben H. Winters is having fun playing around with genre expectations. 

I love the subtle changes in this world from the first book to this one. I love that law enforcement positions went from being the most rewarded with that old outdated concept called money to the world of Countdown City, in which money has become irrelevant, and essential law enforcement officers are instead paid with rations: bottled water, non-perishable foods. (And god love you if you can find some coffee.) I love that rioting has become so common place so close to the end that our lead character has the ability to turn away from such sights occurring before him on the street with a level of nonchalant indifference that it should be repulsive, only it's somehow instead relieving. 

The ending of Countdown City promises a rather intimate and personal final case for Detective Palace to solve before Maia comes to end everything, which will unfold in the series' final book. The Last Policeman trilogy concludes with World of Trouble (review coming soon).

NIGHT VISITOR

UNNECESSARY SURGERY

In late 1951, the hills on the outskirts of the small German town were surveyed for the future construction of a NATO military site. The military base was to consist of a series of deep underground bunkers and weapons supplies in case a Soviet invasion occurred. In February of 1952, construction began. Just four weeks later, the crew began digging a massive two-hundred foot deep hole for the future underground storage bunkers. It was during this time that the crew made a morbid discovery. As they neared the end of the digging operation, a human hand was seen sticking out of the bottom of the hole. Upon future examination, twenty-seven bodies were discovered at the bottom of the two-hundred foot deep hole, dressed in Prisoner of War uniforms worn by the allies in Nazi war camps.

A  NATO officer ordered for the bodies to be exhumed immediately. As the medical team slowly carried out the bodies, they looked on in puzzlement. The bodies were remarkably well-preserved. Furthermore, the POW uniforms bore a strange insignia which was unlike any the men had seen before; an orange circle with a single black dash in the middle. However, the most unsettling characteristic were the faces of the men who were exhumed. Their eyes were wide open, and their mouths were sealed shut with an unknown adhesive. The bodies were then dispatched to the local morgue for immediate identification and autopsies.

That night, the local mortician began his work. However, he found it difficult to concentrate on his task. The eyes of the first man he was to begin work on seemed to be staring back at the mortician from the autopsy table. He shook his head and just rationalized the sight as the imagining of his over-active mind. The mortician took his scalpel and began his first cut into the body’s chest. Blood poured out of the incision with staggering force. The mortician backed away from the table in shock. The red liquid began running down the table, pooling on the floor below. The eyes of the body began watering, and streaks of tears ran down its face. Soon, the eyes rolled back into the body’s head, and the bleeding ceased. In horror, the mortician began to make his way to the door on the verge of nausea, but not before catching a glance at the twenty-six other bodies lying out on separate tables. Their eyes looked back at the doctor’s with tangible fear. 

The men were still alive.

EDIBLE BABY HEADS

'Nuff said.

REVIEW: THE FORBIDDEN GIRL

I was just saying to my mother the other day, "You know what I could go for? One of those sexy, witchy, witch-sex movies."

Then I came home, looked in my mailbox, and grinned. Inception Media had heard my utterances on the late-summer wind and sent me a copy of The Forbidden Girl to review.

My pants were never the same.

A late-night rendezvous between Toby, the son of an apparent religious fanatic, and his girlfriend, Katie, goes pretty sour after she shows him the locket that she's wearing around her neck, which attracts some kind of black-smoke demon that comes and takes her away. See, it was really important to Toby's priest pops that Toby remain all chaste and stuff, so obviously sneaking off to see Katie, Kewpie-doll-voice seductress that she is, was a horrendous idea. With Toby's father newly headless and Katie kidnapped, poor Toby goes rather mad from this and spends the next six years in a mental institution while simultaneously and miraculously not aging whatsoever. After fibbing his way through a gab session with his doctor, Toby is released to salvage the rest of his young life. He begins a tutoring job for a very eccentric couple who live in an isolated old mansion, throughout which Toby seems to sense Katie attempting to communicate with him. When Toby meets his student, Laura, who to him appears to be his missing beloved Katie, well, things get real awkward real fast.

The Forbidden Girl is a beautifully photographed film with better-than-average special effects that unfortunately still ends up being kind of a mess. Creepy visuals and impressive set designs promise a story engaging and unique that, though it tries, never manages to be more than almost perfunctory. Tonally, the film is similar to William Malone's Parasomnia, though it shares that film's woes as well - essentially, both are impressively realized dreamscape films that exist solely to show off the interesting and disturbing visuals on display. There's no doubt about it that Till Hastreiter knows how to direct, present a beautiful image, and work within his budget (though the day-for-night shooting needs a little work). For once the acting in a low budget horror film isn't entirely deplorable. Our lead (Peter Gadiot) is earnest and likable, and his strange new employer is suitably a big creep. But again, both seem committed to a story that never quite established what it wants to be. Horror? Whimsical fantasy? Teen love? (Gross.)

Never would I accuse The Forbidden Girl of being artistically hollow, as there is a genuine attempt to present a story as engaging as the visuals are compelling, but the script never manages to be more than this thing that ultimately ends up getting in the way of the next creepy or stunning set-piece.

It hits video tomorrow.