oct 6, 99

BLAIR WITCH COMFORT

After telling most of my friends I can't wait for Blair Witch to finally open in theatres in Manila, they go off and watch it without me. Thanks a lot. Those who haven't seen it yet, have no intention of setting foot in a cinema showing anything vaguely close to a scream-flick. So I am forced to make a decision: watch it alone or wait for the video tape to come out....

It is a Wednesday night, and I am depressed after work. I wait for a ride outside of my office building. I think to myself, if a jeep arrives, I'm taking it down to EDSA highway and going home, dammit. If a Tamaraw FX arrives and it's going to the Glorietta mall, I'm watching The Blair Witch Project.
An FX arrives.

It is the hand of fate.

I get down at the Landmark department store, and in an unprecedented move, head to the supermarket's wine section to get me some booze. My feet move on its own accord. The alcohol beckons. I get a cute little 375 ml. bottle of Southern Comfort and a can of Planter's Cheez Curls--- both fit snugly in my backpack. Darn. Looks good already.
Next stop: McDo for a burger dinner.

By the time I do get to the Glorietta 4 theater, it is 8:50. and the 8:30 PM show is underway. So I scout the other shows and see to my amazement a 9 PM screening of Children of the Corn 5: Field Of Screams. HA!!! I figure, since I've seen each and every other sequel of this stupid movie "franchise" (why aren't there any Children of the Corn toys out there?), I may as well watch this one. Anything's better than Banderas playing the 13th Warrior, I surmise.

As it turns out, I am dead wrong.

They should've named it Children of the Corny. Argh. Not even the presence of "Kung-Fu" Carradine as the puppet adult leader of the kids' colony saves the movie from mediocre hell. The Omen-like child leader himself is a picture of stupidity. Hardly scary. Good thing I had the Southern Comfort, baby.

Lemme tell you: Drinking this stuff straight from the bottle is primal. Recommended only for the sorely depressed. It's dangerous. It's illegal. A-he-he-he. But who would've caught me anyhow? There were only about 15 people in the ENTIRE theater.

By the time I get out, it is close to 10:20 PM, a good 10 minutes before the final screening of Blair Witch. I run to the ticket counter. I am far from tipsy.

I find a good seat in the front row... near enough to the screen to experience the full dizzy effect of the shaky-cam cinematography, and far enough away from the people to my left who might notice my bottle of Comfort-- if they take their eyes off the screen, that is.

Now, I'd read all the bad reviews and heard all the curses hurled at Blair Witch. So I went in expecting nothing. And came out wearing a smile. (No doubt the alcohol had a jollifying effect on me.) It wasn't awesome... but it WAS riveting. Then of course, I've always been a sucker for home-movies. So, there was no way I would've NOT enjoyed the movie. True the acting was a bit forced at times and there were quite a few dead scenes (eh?) but it was a nice little package. Lacked real HORROR though.

Couldn't help but think if that were me and two friends out in the woods, we'd probably have succumbed to giggles, joke-telling and farting contests LOOOOONGG before panicking. But that's me.

Suffice to say I exit the cinema just a little less depressed and a little less sober than I enter it and take a bus home while listening to the creepy soundtrack of Fifth Element on my walkman. The bottle of Southern Comfort resting silently in my bag, 1/3 empty.

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