On July 11th, another major SDOT project, the repaving of our part of Roosevelt, begins in front of Scarecrow. This is the fourth construction project in the last year to happen within one block of us, creating new challenges for our patrons. So we’re papering over our big back wall with our own Yellow Brick Road! This fundraising campaign will pave the way into the next phase of Scarecrow’s non-profit vision. Once we’re over this hump we can get back to what matters most: solidifying our place as a Seattle institution and community resource.
How you can help:
The Yellow Brick Road campaign builds a new path forward and that means we need lots and lots of bricks – and lots of friends to share the way!
If you’re contributing at the $50 Level, remember to leave your choice of Oz characters in the Notes field, and please let us know how you’d like your name written (or if you’d like something different) on any reward you choose!
As we head into this (hopefully) final construction project, we’ve tightened our belt even more, but we still need to call on the incredible film-loving community in Seattle to step up again to help us get through. On July 6th, we’re kicking off our Yellow Brick Road campaign to pave the way into a construction-free future.
Funds raised in this campaign will go directly toward general operations –things like paying the rent, keeping the lights on, and paying our staff. As a young non-profit, we’re still building relationships with funders. Receiving a boost at this critical time will allow us to get through the tough months ahead. Thank you so much for your continued support!
by John S
Common cinematic wisdom has it that, in 1978, Halloween cemented the Slasher Movie trope which dictates that if you are young and horny and you give in to your horniness, you will die a horrible, horrible death. However, we submit that Jaws actually first trotted out that particular nugget three years earlier in 1975. Substitute a Great White shark the size of a station wagon for Michael Myers, and you still have the same result: lots of screaming and flailing and dying. Our story starts with Chrissie (Susan Backlinie) sitting on a beach on Amity Island, MA, making googley eyes at Cassidy (Jonathan Filley) over a bonfire. Oh, yes, this beach vacation will end so very, very badly. Read More
by Travis Vogt
I’d really love to say that I thought Suicide Squad was good. After reading all of the negative reviews (40 on Metacritic? That is WAY too high) and hearing all of my friends tell me how much I was going to hate it, it would’ve been a neat angle. To be one of those “Actually…” people, unearthing a fresh perspective on commonly held opinions. Sadly, friends, today is not that day. Suicide Squad is one of the worst big-budget Hollywood films I’ve ever seen. We’re talking Eragon bad, and I don’t say that lightly. This is one of those movies that sucks immediately. Even during the opening credits, before a frame of story had been projected, I was literally making loud fart noises in the back of the theater. And by “literally,” of course, I mean “not literally.”
I’d love to go through all of the trouble of assembling a legit essay about why Suicide Squad sucks ass, but such a task is not worthy of my exalted English degree. If the lazy asshats who made this film weren’t gonna put in any thought or effort into the making of a $175 million movie, why should I write a legit think piece? I’m just gonna do this baby in list form and get it out of my system. Read More
by Greg Carlson
One of the great features of the still-standing independent video stores is the meticulous classification of distinct subgenres on the shelves. Managers at Blockbuster Video had no problem with Smokey and the Bandit being placed in either the Action or Comedy section, but a dyed-in-the-wool indie video store clerk would make sure to file it under the “Road Race” section, alongside Cannonball Run, The Gumball Rally, and (to a lesser degree) Death Race 2000.
My favorite movie subgenre is the “Man vs. Beast” film; specifically, the ones that came out in the late ‘70s/early ‘80s to capitalize on the success of Jaws and its sequels, right down to the one-word title (Piranha, Grizzly, Barracuda, Tentacles, among many others.) As with any subgenre riding the wave of a popular franchise, the quality of these films can range from camp classic to Z-grade unwatchable. However, there are a few rip-off genre movies that rise to B-list levels of entertainment, gaining repeat viewings due to the serious performances of the actors and/or the “less is more” aesthetic of the director/screenwriter. These niche films must have had an effect on me – out of the three movie posters I have hanging in my downstairs rec room, two of them are Orca and Alligator. Read More
by John S
Movie Postmortem is a monthly series that reviews certain films that showed promise but misfired (critically and/or commercially) upon initial release. Join us in our attempt to find out exactly what the hell happened.
The Casualty: Memoirs of an Invisible Man
The Case History: Somewhat based on the 1987 novel of the same title by H.F. Saint, this movie promised an entertaining blend of comedy, suspense, sci-fi, action and romance. Think Hitchcock meets Phillip K. Dick. Basically, we have a regular everyman named Nick Halloway (who just happens to look and snark brilliantly like Chevy Chase) who is rendered invisible when a lab explosion rips apart the sci-tech company he is visiting one day with a pounding hangover (don’t ask). Read More
by Evan J Peterson & Heather Marie Bartels
On Tuesday, August 2nd, we’ll gather in Scarecrow Video’s screening room for another session of SHRIEK: A Women of Horror Film & Discussion Class. This month, we’ll examine Suspiria, an Italian film with an international cast that risks much and achieves essential placement among the best horror films of all time. Read More
by Travis Vogt
We often think of art as a reflection of the past, or at least the specific time period in which it was produced. Leonardo da Vinci’s work shows us the world of drab lady fashions and Christ suppers that were common in his day. Andy Warhol takes us back to a quaint time when Campbell’s soup was virtually inescapable. Less commonly regarded, but equally important are the works of art that attempt to portray the great unknown—the vast mystery that theoretical physicists commonly refer to as “the future.” Depicting the future is one of the most advanced forms of art-making there is, because most people don’t know what the future holds. Even the great masters, for the most part, were far too cowardly to attempt to paint future-scapes. Da Vinci once speculated about a time when naked men would have four arms and four legs and live in giant hamster wheels. But even he thought that this idea was dumb.
The visionaries who gave us some of the greatest VHS box art of all time, however, were fearless in the face of the unknown. They practically lived in the future, offering one spectacular and mind-bending possibility after another, most of the time only loosely based, at best, on the premise of the movie for which their art was created to promote. Read More