Finally reaching the Tennessee state line, I drift into the Death Curve that merges 75N into 24E. Hopefully for the last time, images of shredding tires and shattering glass cause my adrenal glands to ache to life. Coasting down the off ramp into East Brainerd, i mentally redraw my map of the area. These used to be my old stomping grounds. I used to prowl these streets as a lost and wondering teenager amidst the hollowness of suburbia.
At least I wasn’t alone. Collin and Russ had been there. Along with Jason the ‘leader’ and megalomaniacal asshole, Nick the tortured artist, Sam the upper middle class son of a Director of the Board of Education (who was just getting into his Afro-centrism), Randy the husky NIN listener and a host of other bit players who all seemed to escape Chattanooga with only their lushly detailed psychosis intact. We played D&D… We were the Banana Pirates… We were The Group. It was an incredible time in my life that I could never fully appreciate. I was far too timid and self-conscious back then. I can remember wondering why I hung around these people who seemed to enjoy ripping up my fragile self-confidence so much. The only answer I can give is that they at least let me hang out with them.
Still in annoyed amazement at the volume of traffic in this part of town, I pulled into Collin’s Funeral Home. “THIS ought to be interesting”, I thought. I’ve never seen what a funeral home is like ‘after hours’. Calling Collin to tell him I had arrived, I stepped from the car, slowly stretching my arms and legs… ugh… yet another reminder that I’m not a kid any more.
Collin met me at the door wearing a decidedly professional looking suit and tie. I grinned… partly in happiness to see an old friend and partly trying to stifle a mocking chuckle at an old friend who was dressed so outrageously. Since when did WE wear SUITS? He gave me a tour. I got to see where the bodies were drained and prepped for viewing. It was much like a doctor’s office… clean, safely labeled and somewhat stark, not counting the rarely seen, specialized equipment.
As we chatted, Collin reminded me of the weekend’s special occasion: Ben’s birthday. Needing to get his presents wrapped and sight unseen to Cheryl and Milton’s house, we went a nearby “Party Store” and joked about all of the different decorations that would be appropriate or hilariously inappropriate. I stuck to my guns about the “Happy 12th Birthday, Princess!” concept… Collin wasn’t so keen. He seemed to be stuck on Pirates. Whether or not that had anything to do with Ben’s party, I couldn’t tell. Half an hour, an Aaron Carter Birthday card, and an insipid discussion about MySpace between two teenage girls later, we were out of there.
At this point, one of the most surreal moments of my life occurred: I was wrapping birthday presents in a grieving room of a Funeral Home. As always, Collin appreciated the irony… a quality that has kept me enjoying his company for many years. We had lunch, talked and wandered the immaculate halls of the Home. Soon, I was off to Collin’s parent’s house with the gifts… Collin would meet up with Ben later and they would arrive soon enough.
I love Collin’s parents. They are, without a doubt, among some of my favorite people on earth. Intelligent, quirky, openhearted and easy-going to the extreme… I have often wondered what MY life would have been like with parent’s such as these. How would I have turned out with parents that were passionate about life? That were well-read and involved? That had real hobbies and appreciated the simpler, more important aspects of life? Cheryl, in all her petite, 5’2”, brown and curly haired glory welcomed me in as I struggled with the gifts. Putting the items aside for know, we chit-chatted for a bit. She was cooking dinner. A REAL, home-cooked dinner. Lasagna. Nosing around the kitchen I asked if there was anything I could do to help. Apparently, going downstairs into the furnished basement to see Milton was more helpful than me being under her busy and scurrying feet.
Just as much I as adore Collin’s parents, I adore their house just as much. Its a home… so much so that being in its welcoming warmth is almost painful. It makes my heart ache for a place in my life that I could truly call “home”. The basement is a pop-culture paradise. 40 years of novels, musical instruments, gaming resource books, toys, magazines and collectables are literally stuffed into every corner and to the ceiling. As I made my way down the steep, narrow stairs into the basement, i could hear Indian-type music punctuated by the mutterings that could only be of a mad genius in the midst of his latest creation. The smell of authentic incense hung thickly in the air… clearly, someone was hard at work.
I peeked around the corner and saw Milton, sitting in shorts, rotating in his chair between his computer and a series of exotic looking musical instruments. I knocked on the wall in an attempt to get his attention. The attempt failed. I simply didn’t have the heart to interrupt him in the middle of what he was doing. Perhaps I can wait until a lull, before making my presence known… and the spots me looking as if he’s just seen a strange man appear in his sanctum unannounced… oh. Wait.
His huge grin is a reminder of his glowing sincerity as he calls me over and begins to enthusiastically explain to me what’s he making and why… In the middle of his excited explanation of music editing software, the Allman Brother’s Band guitarists and Indian music he says, “I’ll say ‘hi’ and ask you how you’re doing in a minute! Really!”. We talk music for a while and I try to keep up with his depth of knowledge as I try to relay to him my comprehension of his thoughts…
We eventually head upstairs and decorate. Soon after, the other’s begin to arrive: Collin and Ben, Miles and his new girlfriend Janelle, and eventually, Russ and Jamie. As we eat that wonderful meal, I am once again emotionally overwhelmed by the love in this house. We’re all sitting around a large, thick, well-worn wooden table. I can see some of my oldest, and best friends in one place. In THIS place. We’re all laughing and teasing each other… I’ve got my charisma on and we’re all just having a good time… It felt so good to simply BE in that moment. I had not felt that welcome or that in peace with my surroundings in many years… And that, along with the constant goading by Collin and Russ for me to stay, makes it incredibly hard to leave. I always dislike having to leave Chattanooga… but this time i knew it would be different… i knew that this time would be painful.
We eventually all retired to the living room where we piled onto recliners and sofas… and we watched TV together… like a big, real family.
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I enjoyed Silent Hill. It was moody, dark, and held to its own internal logic. It also took itself seriously in all the right ways… which made the few howlers in the movie that much more conspicious and silly. Usually, when i watch a horror movie, i spend 1/2 my time thinking of whats going on in D&D/writer/mythological terms (i try to define and corrolate what’s going on on-screen with my internal database of demons, ghosts, magic, etc… the ‘rules’ of fantasy) and the other 1/2 thinking, “wtf? why are doing THAT? if you did THIS, you’d be so much better off!”. I guess its still the vestigial form of yelling at the screen , “Don’t go in there!!” or rolling your eyes when the besieged main character, while running from the murderous villain, comes upon a cache of equipment.
The choice selection tends to be something like this: Chainsaw, flashlight, fully charged long-distance emergency radio thats already dialed to nearby Police frequencies, fully loaded shotgun, and butterknife. Clearly, the character on screen will grab the butterknife… or possibly, the butterknife AND the flashlight. Happily, Silent Hill doesn’t fall into this trap very often or too blatantly. As a fiction writer myself, i appreciated the overall story and plot of the movie. Like the video game, the main character is not the real protagonist of the overall story… she is merely someone caught up in its web and must find her way out (with her daughter) alive.
I felt that the use of video-game like camera angles and cinematography was well played and conducive to the feel of the movie. And, being not only based on, but being more of a translation of, the game into a movie, it had quite a bit of pleasent fan-service. Honestly, i have yet to play the games, but from other’s comments, Silent Hill seems to have still catered to its gaming fanbase.
It’s a good movie, both interesting and able to hold my suspension of disbelief for extended periods of time. Not bad for a pre-summer-blockbuster movie. It won’t change the general opinion of ‘video game movies’ (thank, Uwe, you fucker), but it does help level the playing field a bit. We can point to Silent Hill and say, “See? they don’t ALL suck!”
…and WHY do people bring BABIES to HORROR FILMS?!
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