Despite my overriding passion for the pub and pint, I’ve spent my fair share of time in night clubs.
My time in Europe especially, as cliche as I now realize that is, was full of night club shennanigans. To the point that for a little under 5 months I spent my weekend nights working in one. No matter how many clubs I frequented, however, I was always aware of the potential for unrestrained mayhem that dark, packed rooms full of sweaty people posed. In fact, my first zombie short story was set in my place of employment.
There are numerous stories about shootings in nightclubs and fires in nightclubs both from arson and from accidents. In fact, there is literally a Wikipedia page for nightclub fires. Note the incident that left 194 dead in Buenos Aires in a club just ten years ago. 194 DEAD. IN REAL LIFE. Main takeaway: if you must go to clubs, do not light fireworks inside the damn building.
Aside from the practical fears associated with nightclubs, the assault on the senses and resulting disorientation can drive fears that can’t even truly be articulated. Case in point: the first time I went to the Berghain in Berlin, I got to the front of the line and then turned and ran away. And no— I wasn’t tripping balls, but I was in need of some damn coffee. A few months later, I braved it and we passed the asshole test and got in. It ended up being one of the weirder nights out I’ve had, but there was some damn tasty ice cream in a secret bar off one of the dance floors. So in the end, totally worth it.
The Collection – Marcus Dunstan (2012)
Only in poking around online did I discover the fact that this movie is a sequel, but it does make sense for several reasons: namely, the idea of having to come back to save someone. The fast moving, glossy shifts from one scene to the next, with few establishing shots or explanations. The fact that the main character pops out of a trunk fifteen minutes into the film. It’s made by the fellas who wrote and directed Saw IV thru VII. Ya know—the good ones? In that same vein (har har), the film is about the quest through “The Collector’s” repurposed warehouse that he’s turned into a booby-trapped labyrinth to save the one survivor of this well-supplied and prolific serial killer’s latest massacre. Actually, not serial killer, supernatural mass murderer is more accurate.
My questions: Where does he get the time and supplies to build his traps and house of horrors? Fish tanks, also, are often thousands of dollars and he has ROWS of them filled with the preserved bodies of surgical experiments. Also, how did he get an arsenal of weapons rivaling the stockpile of a small country? Or more narcotics than a talk radio host? Surely whatever work he does in his downtime does not make the bucks to finance an operation like this. And it seems as if he isn’t the type who can form subtle don’t-ask-don’t-tell business arrangements, so how did he find the time to build all this stuff?
In case you haven’t figured it out, this isn’t a great movie. But I’ll never be able to unsee the carnage of a packed club full of people getting literally mowed down by rotating blades. Shit dude.
This one requires far fewer leaps of logic, and that’s part of what makes Aftershock so scary. If there’s one place you don’t want to be in the middle of an earthquake, it’s in an underground nightclub. Frankly, either of those last two words would be a bad place to be, but the combination really brings the oh-god-no-waaaattt home, doesn’t it?
This one takes place in the seaside Chilean city of Valparaiso where a “Gringo” played by Eli Roth is taking some time off to get over his ex-wife. He and his friends (including director Nicolas Lopez) meet up with three other girls for some fun touristy times and then partying hard at an underground nightclub. The earthquake is pretty impressive, and pretty much anything you would be afraid of getting smashed by in a club smashes someone to bits: enormous speakers, shattering disco balls, and the entire glass wall behind the bartender.
In addition to Aftershock delivering on the gore level, Aftershock is a throwback to those 90’s disaster movies that we all loved. Didn’t we? At least I did. Movies about volcanoes and tornadoes and even alien invasions. Pretty much the only difference between those movies and Aftershock is that those movies tended to focus on the well-equipped heroes, and this one focuses on some pretty well-screwed tourists dressed up in pretty much the worst thing you could wear in a crisis situation.
Other plusses: Eli Roth getting set on fire (whoops-spoiler), and watching a rapist get axed. Literally.
Also, a final shot that makes me cackle, and that I won’t spoil for you.