I have now seen that film three times. It joins an elite group of titles that I have seen multiple times during their initial theatrical run; it is accompanied by such cinematic worthies as Alien, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and The Beast Within.
I’m thinking of seeing it a fourth time. Alas and woe, when one is seized by such a notion, it is simply the future making itself manifest.
This has me more than a little worried.
What worries me far more is what’s going to happen when the film makes its debut on home video. I’ll probably call in sick to work so I can be at Best Buy when it opens. I’ll buy five copies, and in my mad rush to return home I’ll cause three minor traffic mishaps and one lost breakfast. Then, I’ll switch on the player. And then—
Ah, what a scene that will paint, with deep blacks and angular greys. I can see it now, as if it were played out in the finale of some future melodrama—perhaps Tim Burton’s Corpse Jerk.
The DVD will duly be placed in the player, and the tray closed. My fingers will grasp the remote—
Then, some weeks later when my absence at work has been noted and none of my bills have been paid, the police will finally break down the door to my residence. They’ll be met by a scene of the utmost ghastliness; the strongest of them will blanch; they will bite down on their tongues to keep the screams from escaping as they make their way within.
Only to discover the cakes iced a peculiar shade of green.
And the tea urn empty.
Save for a card on which was written the single word: