"A" Horrors List!

 

"A" Horrors list!

by Kristin Battestella

What happens when you alphabetize your Netflix queue? Three “A” horror movies in a row! Fortunately, these feminine horrors, period pieces, and cinema scares bring a decent “A” game, too.

Amulet – Debut writer and director Romola Garai's (Angel) 2020 feminine horror spin has many of the same faults as other writer/director combos in need of a fine tuning second eye. Overly arty shots, zooms, and angles that may or may not be significant pad a longer than necessary duration that's very slow, and the weird for the sake of it sometimes gets in the way of otherwise fine gore. The lack of subtitles and soft dialogue muddle what should be intriguing characterizations, and dual storytelling will be confusing to some thanks to dreams, flashbacks, and little explanation on who, where, and when. Nothing happens until the final fifteen minutes, leaving potentially fascinating monsters, demons, and magic without equal attention. Fortunately, haunting melodies and out of focus blurs immediately create unease and distortion amid foggy mountains, lovely forests, shelter cots, and hospital haggard. Seemingly kind nun Imelda Staunton (Harry Potter) sends our soldier to work in a cluttered fixer upper with dusty old things, shabby wallpaper, and a fearful young woman caring for her ill mother in the attic. Suspect cooking, ravenous seconds, and bite marks create innuendo between the bachelor and our pretty girl, but gross plumbing, bloody linens, black water, and an albino bat in the toilet bowl lead to freaky scares. Choking attacks, gutted fish squishes, knives, and stabs in a vaginal looking throat lead to confessed mistakes, rapaciousness, bone cracking revelations, and unforgiving ancient gods. Mirrored clues, cigarettes hints, and jewelry suggestions add to the deranged as supposedly good men still ain't shit. Shell motifs and a surreal reentering of the womb make for some wild scenery in the standout finale as man gets to know what a woman's lot in life feels like – and it is not an undeserved punishment. Although this won't be for everyone, the symbolic imagery and well done gore have heaps to say for fans of feminine horror.

Anguish – Bigas Lunas (Jamon Jamon) directs Zelda Rubenstein (Teen Witch) in this 1986 Spanish meta brimming with gross eyeballs, mama's boy killers, and onscreen warnings about subliminal suggestions and medical assistance in the theater lobby. Birds and knitting at home with mom should be quaint, but cages, snails, shells, and ticking clocks accent the bizarre relationship. Up close surgeries and poking and prodding around the eyes escalate to opera drowning out the screams and black tie snobbery marred with blood. Reverse countdowns, heartbeats, regression, and telepathic commands match the staircase fights and stabbing instruments as the violence is both precision and opportunistic. The squeamish audience watching The Mommy herein the dark cinema, however, can't look away as they eat their popcorn because, after all, it's only a movie. Hypnosis captivates the internal viewers, taking its time with the deceptive ebb and flow spiral imagery. Unlike today's desensitizing in your face and excessive slight of hand, seeing a person in fear helps us relate to the terror as it slows down, making room to ramp it up rather than just being out of control up up up numbing all the time. Precious few exterior establishing shots place but don't break immersion amid shrewd use of what's in and out focus and multiple layers of horror. Visually there's also a sense of depth; actions aren't 3D thrust out at us but characters within must move deeper and look around the corner as the doors are locked and the killer roams. Shushing spectators go on eating more popcorn regardless of the titular discomforts around them because the make believe cinema within a cinema mirror imagery is more important to them. Men in the ladies room chills and theater shootings are real world disturbing – a prophetic analysis on movie obsessions and how we view everything through someone else's lens. The films, tears, and violence merge thanks to panic and helplessness as the life imitating art goes too far. The only resource is “Let's go find a phone booth,” and mother takes matters into her own hands amid police in the projection room and hostages in front of the movie screen. The last resort is to stop the movie and turn up the lights, but the picture asks, “What are you looking at?” while the credits roll in this surprisingly smart commentary on our voyeuristic tendencies.

Apostle – Picturesque views, lovely mountains, and 1905 train whistles lead to shady docks, rough travels, and an isolated Welsh island commune in this 2018 Netflix Original starring Dan Stevens (Downton Abbey) and Michael Sheen (Underworld). Opium addicts are not up to the journey, but personal items are to be left behind, for “She” decides what to give or take. Three escapees founded the community with “Her voice” – the goddess of the island who saves those who are godless. Lanterns, creepy hymns, fire and brimstone sermons, and ghostly figures in the window escalate to spying and bloodlettings amid hidden doors under the rug, skeleton keys, and scary barns in the forest. Despite obvious Wicker Man inspirations; the poisoned crops, deformed animal births, recitations, and blasphemers don't underestimate the audience by pretending the moss, fog, caves, and mystical trees are innocent or quaint. Fears over low supplies, the king's ships, and infiltration begat swords, spears, torches, and threats. Ominous, pulsing music accents the shaking and withdrawals as the mysteries intensify thanks to shrieking old ladies suggesting earlier sirens, ancient writings, and goddess worship. Boxer Rebellion torment and burning crosses add to the previous loss of faith and unanswered prayers. Is anyone pure or is the divine an illusion? The Scriptures, however, come in handy for convincing the cult faithful to beware the wolf in sheep's clothing. Leaders who believed their original free society concept grow weary over the violence, crimes, and consequences as the community divides over innocent bloodshed. The turn of the century rural gives way to medieval-esque torture with purification rituals, gory cuts, black hoods, shackles, and false prophets. Man thinks he can imprison a goddess and control her, dictating who will be sacrificed or starved. The patriarchy doesn't want anything taken from it – especially control or its daughters – but the lies and manipulation assure the goddess will have her say. At over two hours, the slow burn grows flabby with too many tangents. It's difficult to believe so much happens in just a few days, and the organized religion bad but faith or natural worship good mixed messages commentary unravel with inconsistencies, rushing at the end when again a second pair of eyes would have helped writer and director Gareth Evans (The Raid). Although the religious food for thought mystery fumbles, the period mood and folk atmosphere here provide unique entertainment.

Yes, I still have a Netflix DVD queue. Don't judge me. 😁

The Innocents (2018)

 

Poor Start hurts the Intriguing The Innocents

by Kristin Battestella

The 2018 Netflix international production The Innocents opens the eight episode science fiction drama with perilous chases, cliff side pleas, and doppelgangers in “The Start of Us.” Multi lingual interrogations and so called Sanctum Norway communes for women in need of a special treatment create ominous while transformations, triggers, secrets, and agoraphobia invoke fear. Positive therapies go awry thanks to nightmares, tests, and sedatives while parents must make major decisions to keep the family safe. Roadside suspense, scary strangers, injections, and would be abductions lead to surprises and revelations in “Keep Calm, Come to No Harm.” Frantic body swaps and unknown medical conditions are no match for the titular mantras amid school troubles, police inquiries, and escalating experiments. Past fears raise the tension and pleas to stop the tests, but convulsions and pursuits lead to more shape shifting. The ladies must remember who they are to come back from each transformation as they wonder what terrible mothers they are and why they have this pain. “Bubblegum & Bleach” adds paranoia and jealously – relatives and cops aren't on the same page. Unfortunately, in the first three episodes of The Innocents, the suspicious Norway science takes a backseat to teen lipstick, love letters, and runaway dreams. Voiceovers lay on the lovey dovey when we could have met the romance in media res upon escape. Brief, fast moving, intercut scenes jumping from story to story don't let any build up get off the ground as back and forth emotions change without explanation. Adults are treated as foolish, dismissing information while the lovebirds don't immediately search a man's belongings even after he shows them a message about her mother's whereabouts. Details are withheld for contrived revelations quickly forgotten as the carefree teens run through the park holding hands. Despite dangerous roads and car accidents, the protagonists act too young to drive, much less rent hotel rooms. Seeing them half dressed and making out is weird, and for such an in love couple, sex doesn't initially even occur to them until drug hostels and dangerous influences. Neon lights, body glitter, and back room whips are downright ridiculous, and it's extremely tempting to fast forward through the overlong clubbing. It's not entertaining, nay it's terribly frustrating to see more intriguing characters held back so the least interesting youths can bungle into the conclusions viewers already know.

Thankfully, the fourth episode “Deborah” finally gets to the sci-fi backstory with flashbacks to disbelieving bar meetings and patients afraid of touching deemed paranoid schizophrenics. The shape shifting trauma can be controlled, but morphs into a pregnant nurse are disturbing. Unrequited feelings and mixing business with pleasure acerbate the identity questions as positive sessions lead to choices. Instead of a woman being defined by her man or as a mother, maybe she can have her own life. The performances and confrontations show what The Innocents can do when focused on the meatiest material, and one might even skip the first three episodes and begin here. Love can keep you calm or memories of losing it can be your trigger in “Passionate Amateur” as a viral video of a shifting encounter leads to our teens trusting anonymous strangers they meet on the internet. However, family investigations and abusing police jurisdiction provide better help or hindrance and tears over the inability to protect those that are different. Rare mixings of memories and mental questions about the shifting make for provocative complications, and “Not the Only Freak in Town” offers abusive connotations, couples divided, and injured loved ones. Characters pair up and demand answers as detectives consider the preposterous possibilities and women keep secrets from each other. Again, this is one of the better hours because the teen stories take a backseat to three special women around a campfire waxing on who they loved and never told, the men they were supposed to love and didn't, and making safe choices or taking a crazy midnight swim. They aren't monsters but there's no cure – and a warning from a rogue shifter suggests this Sanctum may not be what it seems. Genetic specifics and Norway suspicion is where The Innocents should have been all along, and the taut journey to this isolated island at the end of the world means there's nowhere to run. “Will You Take Me Too?” details the physiological reaction to emotional pressure and evolving shift experiences, but foolish arguments lead to water perils and boat mishaps. How do you save someone from drowning when you can't touch them? Switches among too many people leave some comatose, and men fight about past encounters that ruined more than one family. Idyllic reunions are too good to be true thanks to apologies, abandonment, and doing wrong for the right reasons. Just because you can get the answers you want doesn't mean you should. Community disruptions and compelling character pain fall back on entitled teen sappiness when The Innocents was going so well without it, but players say one thing and do another for “Everything. Anything.” Parents can't protect their children, and the past is distorted with failing memories, violence, and forced shifts. This therapy doesn't hold up under scrutiny, and those who object are unwelcome amid gunshots and excellent intensity as previous commune residents return. The Innocents is superb when it sticks with this not so perfect hamlet and its fantastical women who must face the consequences of their actions whether they are absolved in all the shifting or not. Conflicts between strong women's bonds and rival leeching men escalate toward excellent confrontations, extreme treatments, sacrifices, and betrayals.

Sorcha Groundsell's (Far from the Apple Tree) sheltered sixteen year old June McDaniel doesn't want to move away with her strict dad, and for all the in love hype, one wonders if she's only using her boyfriend Harry to escape. She puts a girl in a coma before she takes this shifting seriously yet still takes too long to deduce what's happening, toiling around London hostels for drinks, parties, and girl kisses. She's easily manipulated, a wishy washy follower bending to her environs without the shifting – going round and round on the sex and drug shifting metaphors while her increasingly annoying bad experiences ultimately take advantage of Harry. June's selfishness makes her very unlikable; she ignores the commune's delicate balance, sneaks around to get what she wants, and foolishly puts her mother Elena at risk. She never gets a clue despite every opportunity to learn, and Percelle Ascott (Wizards vs Aliens) as Harry Polk gives up everything because he's in love with June. He wants to call the police or return home, but June doesn't care if he is completely freaked and traumatized because he continually professes his love. Harry calls his mother and goes on job interviews, sticking with June even if he objects to her excitement at swapping lives. She needs him to keep herself calm, but June ignores when Harry's skeptical of meeting shifters on the internet. She dismisses his theories on other shifters using people, and we're glad when he tells her to stop being a poser, think for herself, and decide what she wants. Nonetheless, one warning phone call about Sanctum and he's in pursuit, loving her at the expense of himself. The metaphors are spot on when Harry ends up physically trapped, because he is wasting his life on being consumed by June. The Innocents' finale isn't an unfortunate cliffhanger but rather the inevitable conclusion. Mother Laura Birn (A Walk Among the Tombstones) likewise worries for June and struggles with her shifting therapy. Elena thinks this is not a gift but a curse. She fears she'll go mad if she recalls her past trauma, and we should have seen more of her story beyond brief flashbacks and arguments. She's not ready to meet June when she arrives at Sanctum, regretting her need to put herself first and afraid of what kind of bad mother she must be. Unfortunately, June rushes Elena, intruding on memories and revelations that aren't her business – ignoring her mother's warnings that love will only cause pain.

Doctor Guy Pearce (Lockout) says he's with a patient at every step, but Ben Halvorson has a checklist and won't let anything jeopardizing his work. He seems sensitive, helpful, even loving – Ben doesn't think he is the egotistical male villain – but he's clearly using these women to achieve his own goals. Ben will stay by his wife's bedside as needed but flies to London to retrieve June and tricks another cured patient ready to leave into staying by using her trigger phrase. He's enthralled by June and Elena's shifting capabilities and kicks other men out of Sanctum when not repeatedly selling his motivational what we do here is good speeches. Halvorson has some great revelations in last two episodes, and The Innocents should have delved into his duplicity more. Ingunn Beate Oyen's (Witch Hunt) Runa loves Ben and their work and encourages the other women despite their therapy fears, but her own early dementia and drinking is getting worse. Runa's proof the re-centering program works, but she's totally dependent on Ben and the illness puts her shifting at risk. She doesn't trust herself and grows jealous, angry, and afraid Elena and June will replace her. The best scenes in The Innocents are between Pearce and Oyen – Runa hides her condition and can't be consoled physically but won't spend her remaining time as herself crying, either. Unfortunately, the audience doesn't know what to make of Johannes Haukur Johannesson (Cursed) and his creepy contortions. Steinar's heartfelt backstory, emotional conversations, and tender moments conflict with the would be menacing chases and ominous pursuits, and the back and forth does the character a disservice. Sam Hazeldine (Prime Suspect) as John McDaniel also has his reasons for protecting his children yet they're angry at him for his regimented ways. John writes a humble birthday card to his daughter and facilities an isolated annex for his agoraphobic son Arthur Hughes (Jonesy), but he's still treated like the bad guy. John almost gives up because whatever he does is considered wrong, and upon hiking to the Sanctum, he even apologizes to June and that's still not good enough. Nadine Marshall's (The Smoking Room) Detective Christine Polk struggles to balance her past and personal ties while investigating the McDaniel case, too. She independently puts together previous crimes, comas, and how her husband Philip Wright (EastEnders) also became a victim. Christine has the hospital video and mismatched reflections photos, but her assistance and resources are treated as unimportant until required. Of course, the irony is that the entire adult ensemble was so deserving of the show's focus that we wonder if the teen connections were needed at all.

Fortunately, great forests, lovely mountains, and beautiful rivers set The Innocents apart. Compared to other genre Netflix shows that all seem to use the same dark house sets, bright location filming and aerial views are calm and quaint. In spite of the shady implications and rogue medicine, these plague days we wouldn't mind living in this pretty, isolated commune! Big monitors, slides, and record players make for a primitive set up, but the older tapes, phones, and technology accent the unpolished rural. Mirrors, double glass overlays, and reverse camera angles talking to one's reflections create visual duplicity while ironic classical music sets off the cruel experimentation. The soon to be dated hip tunes, unfortunately, are loud, obnoxious, and intrusive. The skipping strobe and auto tune shrill made me think there was something wrong with the sound or the streaming! Even if the soundtrack is to your taste, the music montages are ridiculously overused. The Innocents has unnecessary, annoying music interludes sometimes every five minutes – precious time that could have been about character development not ~aesthetics. I must however give props to the ice hockey game on at the Norwegian bar! The Innocents starts slow yet busy with frustrating, uneven storytelling. More interesting adult plots take a backseat to typical teen angst. Thankfully, the second half moves much faster, and the series is best when it drops the dippy teen experience for the real world drama that happens to have suspicious science fiction afoot. This is a very neat concept, and The Innocents had potential for greatness, but it should have been four episodes or a taut movie. It's easy to marathon the superior back end of The Innocents if you hang in for that long, but provocative ideas about women's roles and identities are trapped in an eye rolling juvenile structure that's so damn easy to quit on at the forefront.

90s Comfort Shows!

 

90s Comfort Food Binges

by Kristin Battestella

Don the baby doll dresses, velvet chokers, and butterfly clips – it's time to crank up that noisy modem and unwind with the raunchy humor, steamy action, and wholesome cowboys of these nineties comfort shows!

Married...with Children – “Whoa, Bundy!” From the ironic Frank Sinatra theme and Buck the Dog nabbing his five bucks to Psycho Dad and The Verminator, this 1987-1997 Fox sitcom was like no television show before it. The raunchy may be tame now, but it's fascinating to see how the unhappy, cheap, pathetic spin upended sitcom tropes and twee television cliches with a little help from Polk High and scoring four touchdowns in one game. The First season starts mild enough, but the betamax, mouse in the house extremes, and overdue 1957 library books escalate to wedding rings lost down a stripper's pants and unsatisfied in need of batteries taboos. Seasons Two and Three shockingly address periods in “The Camping Show” and scandalous lingerie for “Her Cups Runneth Over” yet the so-called lost episode “I'll See You In Court” isn't so pearl clutching today. Many of the series' most memorable episodes come in Season Five with the “We'll Follow the Sun” Labor Day premiere summing up the torment of our working man before the baseball twists in “The Unnatural,” Peg redecorating the bathroom for “A Man's Castle,” the Allante of “Kelly Bounces Back,” and the stolen trophies in “All Nite Security Guard.” Pamela Anderson thrashing on the fantasy bed, the dollar on a string at the nudie bar, barbecues cooked with a dead aunt's ashes, the super market shenanigans of “You Better Shop Around,” and the inability to remember an old song in “Oldies but Young 'Uns” make up for the terrible Top of the Heap backdoor pilot and the falling flat “It's a Bundyful Life.” The departure of Steve Rhoades and the introduction of Jefferson D'Arcy marks an obvious turning point as Season Six struggles with poor pregnancy plotlines and disjointed fun in episodes like “Kelly Does Hollywood” and “Al, Bundy, Shoe Dick.” Of course, that first half of Year Six is retroactively written off as a dream, and “The England Show” didn't need to be three parts, dragging the then weekly before the Season Seven premiere introduced the disastrous Seven character and tired money or insurance schemes. “Peggy and the Pirates” is fun in of itself, but the subsequent “Go for the Old” is a better example of the demented Bundy brand alongside Vanna White's propositioning for Al and the orgasmic speeches of “Banking on Marcy.” Boudoir Peggy billboards and an accidental circumcision bolster Season Eight while “Ride Scare” tackles environmental hypocrisy with the show's particular brand of humor – and Seven missing on the milk carton. The “I Want My Psycho Dad” two-parter addresses viewer complaints and cancel culture before we knew what it was to blame entertainment instead of bad parenting, but Year Nine's weekly gags run thin with clip shows, failed college spin offs, and preposterous celebrity stunts. Downright mean racism, sexism, homophobia, and fat shaming make for numerous wrongs, and rather than subverting sitcom tropes, the later seasons are fantasy parody with outlandish self-hype and dated of the moment references. The disastrous attempt to build the reincarnated Lucky a doghouse in “Al Goes to the Dogs,” NO MA'AM's bid to become a tax exempt church, and Christmas phone sex with the unseen Grandma Wanker in “I Can't Believe It's Butter” start Season Ten well, but by the Final season, it's clear the show has run out of ideas. While it's a pity there's no properly wild Newhart style finale, the shear amount of episodes here makes for the perfect turn off your brain background and chill nostalgia.

Pacific Blue – Today it's tough to believe cops on bikes at the beach could run for five seasons with one hundred and one episodes, and the 1996 Pilot immediately makes me feel sixteen years old thanks to trick bicycles, neon graffiti, and rollerblading culprits. Beach volleyball, bikinis, surfing, and sun kissed music montages rift on Baywatch amid too cool for school bike patrol quips and lieutenant Rick Rossovich's Top Gun cred. Early guest kitschy matches the X Games style chases, stunts, and wheelies well filmed with low angles, zooms, up close adrenaline, and so fast it must be slow motion strobe. The intense up, up, up action lets viewers forgive the feeble reasons why our bike police solve crimes. Boardwalk crowd control, sure, but undercover for robberies and vice? Would we watch horseback mounted police galloping in cinematic formation and leaping over the inferior cop cars to nab dangerous drug dealers? Bomb threats, nude beach protests, and preposterous bike to helicopter shenanigans aside, the First Year ironically offers timely police shootings, brutality, and racism. Traditional A/B even C plotting, however, mixes the good with run of the mill cop plots and tired Vietnam vet gone bonkers tropes. Bad ass bike perspectives or chip on the shoulder at demeaning the unit attitudes change as needed – interfering with grizzly murders, on the job injuries, and previously unsolved angst. Sexy male and female partners live on the edge in the bedroom and on the beat, but the stepped out of the shower and into the skimpy towel nineties sex scenes are so innocent and the work versus pleasure moves hot in one episode then cold across seasons. Girlfriends are assaulted for the man's revenge, which gets dropped in favor of skateboarding villains of the week. Third season women in the military, school shootings, hate crimes, and homophobia are decent but too many basketball plots, undercover romance stings, drug heists, and foreign intrigues get repetitive. A Baywatch crossover with Carmen Electra makes one wonder why this series wasn't deliberately created as a tandem franchise, but when episodes get serious with deposition style frankness, it's silly thanks to the thongs everywhere. The overlong episodic seasons short change the self-aware knowledge that the public hates doughnut eating, pension waiting, Rodney King beating bullies in blue; cops are framed, suspended, arrested, and/or vindicated all in forty-five minutes. Despite quality strides – and shout outs to fellow USA nineties treat La Femme Nikita, which our cops watch faithfully – deaths and Vegas weddings lead to a huge cast changeover for Season Four with uneven introductions and a too crowded ensemble. Now that they wear pants more often than bike shorts, the eye candy and desperate need to be seductive goes overboard thanks to obnoxious attitudes and falling flat flirtations. Maybe saucy maybe not roommates, date rape, and porn stings are not endearing, and repeated pregnancy scares get old alongside the contrived rookie mistakes and eye rolling bad behaviors. The new ~edgy~ players spend more time rough housing off the book for personal drama while never identifying themselves as cops. Female boxing stunts, Hawaii stints, film noir styles, and even occult episodes are so far removed from the original if thin premise, and serious internal affairs plots or real time kidnapping hours jar with boardwalk kids shooting themselves out of homemade cannons. Everyone is so angry and unlikable, and rather than some adrenaline fueled fun, the last year and a half is a chore to finish. They barely even ride their bikes! Fortunately, antennas, clunky mobile phones, giant projector televisions, 28.8 modems, video dating services, and Walkmans with real headphones provide bemusing chuckles to match this perky, entertaining patrol.

Snowy River: The McGregor Saga – Although this 1993-96 Australian television series is based on the same Banjo Paterson poem as the 1982 The Man From Snowy River film, it is otherwise unrelated to the movies, forging its own path with rival ranchers and gold claims. Brother versus brother and secret family histories clash in First season arcs amid railroad intrigue, kidnappings, banking schemes, dynamite, and shootouts. Soon to be famous faces like Hugh Jackman (X-Men) and guest stars such as Dean Stockwell (Quantum Leap) tackle desperate drives, stampedes, big cattle barons, Aboriginal issues, and racism. Although more masculine adventure than crusade of the week a la Dr. Quinn, Olivia Newton-John (Grease) and Tracy Nelson (Father Dowling Mysteries) delight as strong women in multi-part episodes addressing abuse, voting rights, and women in the workplace. Episode of the week changes in the Second season, however, are hit or miss when guest plots leave less room for the regulars. Then tame unchaperoned kisses aren't so scandalous and over the top chip on the shoulder scowling wears thin fast, but the older couples are charming alongside former flames now widowed back in town and good old fashioned duels. One off entries are great when the regular cast developments stick, but pacing suffers when two or three unrelated stories compete per hour. Romance resets and supporting townsfolk are dropped or forgotten, and the Third season goes downhill with cliché husbands back from the dead, orphan boy obnoxiousness, and even the old blind for an episode requisite. It's also odd to see Guy Pearce (Lockout) as a background player with little to do until the series realizes his worth in later seasons. Walking skirts, women's vests, and cameo jewelry look the period part, and those save a horse ride a cowboy nineties looks are ironically turn of the century appropriate, but the big hair strays into Dynasty goes west Glamour Shots. The interiors are small, but the western dressings match the muddy, authentic outdoors and picturesque photography. Intriguing opportunities in the shortened Final year get done in by weekly derivatives and too many cast departures, and chasing episodes on The Family Channel back in the day probably hindered Snowy River's popularity stateside. However, with only sixty-five episodes and various streaming options today, it's easy to marathon the Down Under Lonesome Dove entertainment. It's mature without being tawdry, family friendly without being juvenile, and perfect for a wholesome Saturday Night.