“I Saw it on Shudder” is a series where I write about my takes on random movies I’m watching on Shudder in informal essay form. Spoilers galore. For entertainment purposes only - not fully hashed out film criticism!

I feel like I should make a disclaimer about this review in that I’m kind of a huge fan of Rebekah McKendry, the director of Glorious. In particular, she is one of my favorite academics of horror! So naturally, I saw her movie when it debuted on Shudder. Also, since this film came out fairly recently (2022), I’m going to try and do considerably less spoilers, especially for the ending. I want you to watch and enjoy it! It’s also on Tubi, not just Shudder.
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When I first saw Glorious I was pretty neutral about it. I wasn’t blown away or underwhelmed. I thought it was pretty solid, and the characters were all engaging and fun to watch. I mean come on - J.K. Simmons as the cosmic god! A delight! It’s definitely light on terrifying horror, and heavy on the dark comedy and blood splatter. However, I recently revisited this movie because it was streaming live and I wanted to write down some of my thoughts.

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Glorious follows Wes, a man clearly heartbroken and running away from his problems. He pulls into a rest stop to burn the physical memories of a woman whom he loved but is no longer with. This includes a talking teddy bear, which comes up frequently later in the movie. In the bathroom, he communicates with a voice that is coming from a stall with an elaborately artistic glory hole. We learn fairly quickly that this voice is attached to an entity that is claiming to be a god, and he needs Wes to fulfill a major fate quest. The survival of the world is at stake. Can Wes, who’s already suffering immense heartache, step up and be the reluctant hero?

To start off: the color scheme is my favorite. Favorite what? It’s my favorite. In fact, the color scheme for this movie is my studio lighting. My husband hates it, but it makes for excellent horror movie lighting! The unnatural pinks, reds, blues, and purples are so starkly different from the natural lighting outside, which gives the feeling of safety. I loved that occasional “breath of fresh air” as one could say, because the bathroom lighting just added to feeling trapped and hopeless (wait - is this what my husband feels in my studio?!). This all gives this film a very Lovecraftian feel, and the audience is left to wonder (many times and on many levels over): what is exactly real in this movie?

We can assume that their relationship, based on the flashback memories, wasn’t a long one, so why does Wes have such a dramatic reaction to its demise? Why is Brenda the one that got away? And most of all, why is there a disembodied Brenda voice asking, why things weren’t different because she was not like all the others? Sure, we do get more details on the event that ended the relationship, but even so, his reaction is outsized. His grief is deep. His memories of her are sparse. They are really of only two moments: meeting her, and the teddy bear gift. Did Wes block it all out? Perhaps the relationship was more one-sided than what we’re lead to believe? Was it ALL fantasy? Who knows! But the way we see it all play out should have made us more cautious into automatically aligning with Wes. And yet… it’s quite the opposite!

This brings me to my final observation: the woman at the rest stop at the beginning. She kind of provides a similar role as the “old man warning the kids of their impending doom out in the country” trope, except, instead of a warning, she seems to be waiting for him. She has a habit of balling up pieces of paper and lining them up on the table, and judging by the line she was waiting for him for a while. It kind of reminds me of movies where an assassin is waiting for their mark. When he struggles getting a chocolate bar out of a vending machine, she retrieves it for him. I can’t help but make the connection that he took candy from a stranger, a warning often used by parents to keep their kids safe. Once again, planting seeds of expectations of who is the bad guy, and who is the savior.

The woman then leaves, while giving a knowing, smug smile towards a weird (favorite color palette) plant. We never see her again. However, she is referenced again with a shot of the only other non flashback character, Gary, a maintenance man, who cleans up her line of crumpled paper. He does not clean up Wes’s mess at the fire pit, even though Gary notes it. It confirms her role as integral to the inescapable fate of Wes.

So how did I feel about the accidental rewatch? I really loved it! It is hard for me to find newer horror movies that I really enjoy watching over and over, but this is one of them. Wes is a truly engaging, charismatic character that is easy to feel for, and I enjoyed picking up more as his backstory is slowly revealed for the dramatically weird ending. I loved being constantly reminded, in many visual ways, how small and insignificant we all are. Wait - okay maybe not that part! 
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Watch Glorious on Shudder or Tubi for a moody, funny film with Lovecraft vibes!

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t chronically online. It’s something I both love and hate about myself. I love it because I feel like I get to discover all this really cool stuff that I’d never otherwise even be exposed to. I hate it because I’m fully convinced that any mental distress I have would be completely cured, and I’d be the most functional person on the planet if I wasn’t so bogged down with the overwhelming nature of the internet. Instead, I am here, once again, going to write about something viral that moved me to write!

I wrote a couple months ago about viral criticisms of art that weren’t meant to be consumed out of context online. Today, I’m going to talk about an audio clip that very much found a home quite nicely in Reels and TikTok videos - completely out of context! Perhaps you’ve heard the audio clip, if your FYP is a bit on the weird side: two women are discussing perfume, and then their discussion devolves into a story about a woman microwaving her dog, and then back to a song about perfume. It’s recognizable for its sing-songy “no no no no no” sound, which is often the part most used in the viral videos.

I love weird things, so naturally I was curious about origins. One of the things that annoy me about social media is the fact you don’t have to name original sources. Not everyone’s sound is wrapped up in a copyright protected by a big company that comes after people! And no one named the source in the comments, which I fully admit I spend a lot of time combing. It’s frustrating!
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It wasn’t until one fateful day that someone posted a Reel (yes shut up I’m elderly and don’t use TT often!) with the original clip of the audio. Again, no credit to the owner of this audio and video. Again, comments were not helpful, however, there was an actual demand from commenters wanting the title of the video, names of actors, etc. I took descriptions of the video and looked on Reddit, where I finally found a link to the original video and some actual information. God bless, Reddit.

The audio source of these viral videos I had seen was from a short horror musical shot on analog video in 1983 called “Possibly in Michigan.” It was directed by award winning video artist Cecelia Condit, and stars Karen Skladany (who also scores the project), and Jill Sands. They are stalked by a cannibal in a mask named Arthur before the violent, unexpected ending. The short film explores violence against women, but it plays on our expectations in such a delightful way. It uses an experimental narrative to tell the story, and like a genuine musical, the music moves the plot along.

After I finally connected the audio and video, I was more easily able to find tons of information, including a NYT article that is honestly a great read. I watched a video interview of her on YouTube as well and just in general went into a deep dive into Condit and her work. I was amused to learn that the creator of one of the most deeply moving and creepy short horrors actually hates horror herself! This film I searched for at least fifteen minutes on the internet for actually resides at MoMA, not to mention has gone viral many times before. When it was released, the 700 Club showed the ending to highlight the dangers of contemporary and modern art encouraging gay, anti-men sentiment, and violent tendencies. So inspiring! How could I not be fan-girling? While I did take as many courses in film school dedicated to experimental works as I could, I still was never exposed to Condit, and I’m a little sad about it! Condit is also former professor of film at UW-Milwaukee (so close to where I currently live!). 

I encourage you to watch the short film, and even learning more about Condit. Her views on art, going viral in her 70s, her new connection with GenZ, and the internet in general is refreshing and interesting to boot. 
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It’s fun, it’s weird, and it has a catchy song about cannibalism. Bye bye!

“I Saw it on Shudder” is a series where I write about my takes on random movies I’m watching on Shudder in informal essay form. Spoilers galore. For entertainment purposes only - not fully hashed out film criticism!

Some people put on The Great British Bake-off as background noise when they are unwinding for the day, but for me, it’s Shudder TV, the 24/7 horror streaming channel. For months, I played Poison for the Fairies, an 80s Mexican horror movie about two little girls, while I did my nightly cleaning routine, and even while scrolling my phone.

One night, I finally noticed it.

They aren’t showing the adults’ faces, I noticed while staring at the screen absentmindedly. Why? It was then I decided to give the movie my full attention, and I’m so glad I did.

When you look up the synopsis for Poison for the Fairies, it says:

“A lonely young girl falls under the spell of a domineering classmate who has aspirations of becoming a witch.”

In the film, we follow two young girls, Verónica and Flavia. Verónica lives with her grandmother, who is an invalid, and her nurse who raises her. It’s clear she has had some traumatic experiences by the way her nurse candidly lets her discuss and ask about the death of her parents. She is read fairy tales, and raised with a respect for her religion. Flavia, on the other hand, comes from an ultra wealthy family, who’s parents dote on her with lavish gifts and vacations, while also tightly controlling the way she plays, thinks, and spends her free time. They are also staunch atheists, with her father explaining the nature of witches to Flavia as a movement where people bought into mass hysteria and burned innocent women (excellent foreshadowing for later).

It’s pretty clear to the audience that Verónica is jealous and resentful of Flavia’s wealth and parental relationships. So she does what any girl would do: using inspiration from all those fairy tales, she decides to convince Flavia that she is a witch with powerful supernatural allies in order to manipulate her into being her friend and doing what she wants. Aspiring to become a witch? No, Verónica is a witch!
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The marketing and trailer for the film would like us to believe in a reality where Verónica is an actual witch (or trying to become one). However, the movie unfolds more like an elaborate children’s game. The girls, for the most part, seem to enjoy each other’s company and are having fun playing this game where Verónica is a powerful witch that needs to eliminate the only enemies that could destroy her; the fairies. We rarely see any adult faces, which further makes the entire movie feel more like a child’s memory or personal experience. Think back on your own childhood memories: are they clear and logical, or are the only things seemingly clear the instances that evoked strong emotional responses? The only time we see adult faces is in death, or the grandmother’s, when Verónica tricks Flavia into thinking her grandmother is her true witch form and comes across terrifying. There’s a lot to unpack in that moment alone, but granny’s scary face burned into Flavia’s mind with an inappropriate context is exactly why memory is so faulty.

The lines are blurred into cruelty when Flavia thinks she is responsible for her piano teacher’s unpreventable death, and the taking of her dog Hippie. Again, we see her teacher’s face only after death; the moment Flavia finds her dead teacher, and the open casket funeral. Outside of that, Verónica encourages Flavia to play messy, be adventurous and daring, and to explore, despite her parents’ protests against girls doing such things. Flavia looks like she actually enjoys being with Verónica a lot of the time. She’s laughing, giggling, and expressing excitement every time she gathers an item for the poison potion. Ultimately, Verónica’s threat to take Flavia’s dog was what did her in, and also what made Flavia fully convinced Verónica was a witch (relatable), to the point of thinking her shadow showed her true [ugly and old] form, which bears a striking resemblance to the grandmother.

This brings me to back to Flavia’s father’s comment about witch hunts in the past. He attributed them to people not having critical thinking skills due to religious believes and fairy tales. So we get to see this narrative flipped. Flavia wasn’t raised with religion or fairy tales like Verónica, so could we make the argument that it made her an easy target to be manipulated? Does the movie make criticisms against leaving behind old world traditions? Does it criticize lack of childhood imaginative play? Or maybe it’s just as simple as Flavia’s parents didn’t foster an environment she felt comfortable telling them about scary things that they’d write off as silly, thus making her easy pickings for being exploited. Verónica might have been a creative bully, but Flavia lacked any skills to decipher what was fantasy and what was real. This highlights the importance of teaching story and storytelling. Fairy tales aren’t just silly, they’re life saving!

Unfortunately for Verónica, she was able to be so convincing that it got her killed in real life. Flavia, after lying to her parents, giving up her precious doll that her mother wouldn’t even allow her to cuddle at night, and finally, after handing over her dog, snaps. The film ends with Flavia sneaking out of the barn with her dog after starting a fire. She stands outside, while Verónica begs for help inside, holding Hippie and gazing into the flames. A smile slowly crawls across her face. Hippie is unbothered.
To Flavia, the witch has been vanquished before she could kill the fairies, who are the only ones able to keep ultimate evil from the world at bay. She has slain the monster. She is free from the clutches of an evil coven of witches! To me (and I would hope others watching!), I stared in horror as an innocent, albeit bratty, bossy child was murdered. Flavia ends up the actual villain, because she’s the one that does an actual bad thing in the film. She’s a witch burner. She becomes the thing her dad warned about in the beginning. From our [adult] point of view, Flavia could have simply said no to all of Verónica’s requests. We know there’s no one coming to steal eyeballs, curse, or otherwise maim her if she simply says no. After all, Flavia, from a socioeconomic stance, has all the power. But, does Flavia know that? (She does not)
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I was surprised at how much I found myself liking this film, especially after writing it off as background noise initially. I genuinely enjoy expressions of memory on film, and this is a great one that also comments on storytelling, fantasy, friendship, and class tensions. If you ever get a chance to see it, I highly recommend it!