Cinematic Comfort Food

When times get hard some people reach for the bottle for comfort. Others shop extravagantly to dull their depression. But for me, I always reach for a movie to find solace. There are certain key films that can always cheer me up when I put them on, and during troubling times they can always be counted on as sweet relief. During 9/11 I watched every single Ma & Pa Kettle movie for some inexplicable reason.

But when I’m really low I know that any of these 13 films will ease my pain:  Auntie Mame, Marnie, Picnic, Journey To The Center Of The Earth, The Ghost And Mrs. Muir, In The Mood For Love, The Palm Beach Story, On Dangerous Ground, The Private Life Of Sherlock Holmes, Suspiria, Mysterious Skin, The Band Wagon and Only Lovers Left Alive.

I thought it would be fun to ask some random people what their go-to movie is. Here are a few responses.

Mrs. Annabelle Franklin, of Utica, NY, admits that when she’s feeling a bit peckish she always pulls out the DVD of For Y’ur Height Only. It’s a James Bond homage from the Philippines starring a rodent-like midget named Weng Weng. He plays Agent 003 ½, whose assignment is to rescue a kidnapped official from the clutches of Mr. Giant. He’s got plenty of gadgets- a killer hat (“I know it’s dopey-looking, but it’s a weapon, a lethal weapon,” says his boss.), a ring that detects poison, and x-ray glasses that enable him to see through women’s clothes. Mrs. Franklin says that the atrocious dubbing makes Weng Weng sound like a demented Munchin and it always lightens her mood.

Harold Silverfish, from North Platte, Nebraska, swears by Nude On The Moon, the Doris Wishman-directed exploitation classic about two rocket scientists (in long johns, with buckets on their head) who arrive on the moon to find it populated by nude women frolicking in what looks suspiciously like a resort in Florida (Where Nude was filmed). The rather hefty-looking lunar babes, in saggy brown panties with pipe cleaners on their head, charm the heck out of Mr. Silverfish. He also admits that when he hears the lilting theme song “I’m Mooning Over You, My Little Moon Doll,” depression clouds seem to vanish.

Harriet Bedletter, of South Portland, Maine, confesses that she has always had a bit of a weight problem. So, before reaching for the ham, she faithfully puts on the DVD of Criminally Insane. It stars Priscilla Alden as two hundred-fifty pound Ethel Janowski, just released from a mental institution, who doesn’t react kindly to her grandmother locking up all the food in the house to help Ethel lose weight. Nobody comes between Ethel and her Nilla Wafers. Soon the bodies begin piling up in the upstairs bedroom- grandma, delivery boys, doctors, you name it- and Ethel keeps snacking and spraying Glade air freshener. “If anything will keep me from raiding the refrigerator- it’s this film,” the svelte and cheery Ms Bedletter admits.

“When I’m really blue,” confesses Fred Meyer, of Pawtucket, Rhode Island, “the only movie I turn to is Lady Terminator.” The film is an Indonesian Terminator rip-off about a curvaceous anthropologist (the reincarnation of a hundred-year-old South Sea queen, no less) who is out to assassinate a young female rock star who possesses the sacred dagger that can kill her. The anthropologist dresses in black leather, carries an Uzi, and has a serpent that emerges from her vagina to bite off the penises of the men she beds. “I’ve heard of the ultimate blow job, but this is too much,” a cop says of one of her many victims. It’s a line Mr. Meyer has memorized, along with most of the dialogue. “Best movie ever!” Fred says enthusiastically.

Jenny Joyce of Silver Springs, Maryland, won’t travel anywhere without the DVD of Black Devil Doll From Hell. This supernatural Blaxploitation thriller (shot on video) tells the story about Helen Black, a prim, churchgoing virgin who buys a strange puppet in a curio shop. The doll- which looks like a cross between Charlie McCarthy and Stevie Wonder– comes to life, ties poor Helen to the bed, and ravishes her. Though his woody disgusts her at first, soon Helen can’t get enough of her penile Pinocchio. “I have to take this anytime I go on a trip because I never know when I’m going to need a pick-me-up.”

Jim Barrymore, of Roanoke, Virginia, swears by The Worm Eaters. This low budget horror film is about a clubfooted hermit named Herman Umgar, who gets revenge on his hometown by sneaking his special brand of worms into their food- there are plenty of shots of the cast actually eating worms in hamburgers and milkshakes. Soon the townsfolk are transformed into half-men, half worms, writhing around in what appear to be slimy sleeping bags. Mr. Barrymore acknowledges “Damn, this movie always chases away the blues.”

Janine Rydell from Provo Utah, has a special place in her heart for Malatesta’s Carnival Of Blood. It’s a rare 1973 film about a carnival populated by ghouls who eat tourists and spend their off-hours watching silent Lon Chaney movies in a cavernous underground lair. The movie doesn’t make a lick of sense, but that’s the ultimate charm for Ms Rydell. It’s filled with bizarre characters, including transvestite fortune-tellers and creepy dwarfs (Fantasy Island’s Herve Villechaize). According to Janine “I could watch this film a million times and always find hidden treasures.”

For Nancy Pottsfield, of Eugene, Oregon, the one movie that can lift her spirits is Death Bed: The Bed That Eats. It’s about a four-poster bed in the basement of an abandoned house way out in the woods. When couples stumble upon it and unwisely use it for picnics or to make love, it devours them and spits out their bones. There’s also a man behind a painting whose soul is trapped, forced to silently watch this chomping piece of furniture for eternity. This is the kind of movie that will make you think twice before dialing 1-800-MATTRESS. Nancy is convinced this movie was made just for her, and on days when she’s feeling low just the sight of that bed chewing on young lovers gives her a feeling of such euphoria the high lasts for days afterwards.

As my mother once said, “there’s a lid for every pot.”