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Cemetery ManDellamorte DellamoreDVD (1994)

Cemetery Man starts off with a bang: As caretaker of Buffalora Cemetery, Francesco Dellamorte is quite skilled at dispatching the recently dead. He and his simple-minded assistant, Gnaghi, take pride in their work — particularly in how they handle what Dellamorte calls “Returners”: people who return from the dead within seven days of dying (the z word is never used).

Rupert Everett plays Dellamorte as the quintessential cool cucumber: “My name is Francesco Dellamorte. Weird name, isn’t it? Francis Of Death. Saint Francis Of Death. I often thought of having it changed. AndrĂ© Dellamorte would be nicer, for example.” Sure, Dellamorte knows he should report the unusual phenomena of the dead coming back to life to the local authorities, but he sees it as a sort of job security. Why mess with a good thing? Of course, his good thing begins to veer irreparably off course when he falls in love with a recently widowed woman, played by the beautiful Anna Falchi; she portrays a total of three different characters, each of whom takes with her yet another piece of the damaged Dellamorte’s soul. Meanwhile, Gnaghi is involved in his own unconventional romance — namely that his girlfriend is the “returned” severed head of the mayor’s daughter.

Despite an uneven start, director Michele Soavi quickly focuses Dellamorte’s story on the business of having a life when your living involves working with the dead, although it starts to veer a bit off course again in the last couple of acts. Still, this quirky Italian movie falls firmly on the side of black humor horror rather than scary horror. The action, humor, and special effects (I lost count of all the wires visible) bring to mind such classic horror/comedies as Braindead (Dead Alive) and the Evil Dead trilogy, complete with impressively bloody makeup effects. There’s even a graveside sex scene and some gratuitous nudity thrown in for good measure.

If you’re looking for a good scary movie, Cemetery Man‘s not for you. But if you want a gory, quirky, funny take on the undead (the z word) horror movie genre, give it a look-see. Because, really, the one true inevitability in life is death — it’s inescapable. As Dellamorte himself says at one point, “I’d give my life to be dead.”

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While the Husband’s Away…

Song Lyric of the Day:

I been working so hard / Keep punching my card / Eight hours, for what? / Oh, tell me what I got / I get this feeling / That time’s just holding me down / I’ll hit the ceiling / Or else I’ll tear up this town / Tonight I gotta cut loose, footloose

Kenny Loggins / “Footloose

Well, since Rich is on his vacation for the next several days (as he detailed in his blog), I’m moving full steam ahead with plans for my “Gerry-atric Film Fest” this weekend. That’s Gerry as in Gerard Butler; my friend, Nan, came up with the movie-a-thon name. And, yes, she will be attending.

That reminds me, 300 comes out on DVD Tuesday, and the special features look awesome. As you know, I love DVDs primarily for the special features. That, and I don’t have to rewind.

Hmmm…wonder if 300 used the Wilhelm scream?

Well, I made it through the day without puking all over my cubicle. Lucky for my cube neighbors. I had turkey burgers for dinner last night; I’d made them and frozen them a few weeks ago. Once I started eating, my stomach went south almost immediately, so I stopped eating them pretty quickly. I guess turkey burger patties don’t keep too well in the freezer. Shame.

I felt better after a few hours of laying around, praying my stomach would stop hurting, and I felt a lot better by the time I went to bed. Got up this morning, felt fine, made it to the driveway, and almost lost it before getting in the car. It took most of the day for my stomach to settle down a bit. I did make a point of buying generic Pepto-Bismol at Kroger on the way home from work, though. Better safe than sorry.

Stomach’s feeling better, although still a bit iffy. Might have chicken soup for lunch tomorrow if it’s still squelchy. As it is, I’m working from home tomorrow (love my portable job, and, more importantly, my boss who lets me work from home). Before leaving the office tonight, I double-checked that the articles I need to work on are safely queued up in my email, grabbed my trusty red pen and style guide, and headed out the door. Of course, my friend, Caren, being the young, up-on-technology whippersnapper that she is, suggested I use Google Documents to help cut down on all the emails I send myself, which I just might try. She also thinks I should try Twitter, but I’m still on the fence about that — who out there wants to know what I do all day? Hear those crickets chirping? That’s what I thought.

Needless to say, I’m really looking forward to no outside distractions tomorrow — no groups congregating in front of my cubicle (they forget a conference room is nearby), no conversations echoing out of the break room, no reheated fish smell (being near the kitchen is mostly a bad thing) — generally NO NOISE. That, and I get a divine tummy massage when Yum Yum flexes on my stomach when I first start working for the day (gotta make those biscuits). I can give the dogs peanut butter to keep them busy and wear them out.

It goes without saying that I will be working in my jammies. Pantsless.

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