Cellar Dweller
- R
- Year:
- 1988
- 77 min
- 87 Views
(exciting music)
(distant barking)
(wolves howling)
(quiet folk music playing)
(suspenseful music)
(snarling)
Okay...
Word balloon for you.
What's that?
(ominous music)
Let's see.
"He who has wisdom
wonders not of the Beast,
"for nothing in Hell lives
without man's consent."
"Woe unto you that
gives the Beast form.
"To contemplate evil
is to ask evil home."
"Contemplate."
To contemplate is to ask...
evil... home.
(low growling)
(growling intensifies)
(chuckling)
(screaming)
(frightening music)
(roaring)
(screaming continues)
Good God!
(screaming and roaring)
(glass shattering)
(screaming continues)
(loud crashes)
(grunting)
(suspenseful music)
(wind howling)
(low growl)
(heavy breathing)
(low growl)
(growling intensifies)
(electrical crackle)
(man gasps)
(roaring)
(frantic music)
(pained grunting)
(rasping and choking)
(inhuman scream)
(triumphant music)
(screaming continues)
(gagging and wheezing)
(frightening music)
(screaming)
(distorted laughter)
(ominous music)
(birds chirping)
(soft rock music)
(wind howling)
(thunderclaps)
This is it, lady.
Can I help you
with your things?
No thanks.
I've got it.
You know, there's a lot of
talk in town about this place.
Kind of creepy talk.
A lot of weirdoes, well,
they come and go.
- Know what I mean?
- Yeah.
murdered here back in '55.
I was a kid then,
but I remember
like it was yesterday.
My mother,
she would just say,
"Stewart, you steer
clear from that place.
"Understand?
It's a bad place."
- The meter's-
- In fact, uh,
just a month ago I picked
a fellow up from here.
Well, he told me a hell of
a lot of bizarre stories.
Oh, hey, thanks.
Are you an artist?
Yes, yes, here you go.
I'm a cartoonist.
Ah, I see.
Well, listen, you just watch
out for yourself in there, lady.
This place attracts
all kinds of trouble.
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
Sure you don't want
any help with that?
' NO. no, I got it.
- Okay.
Boy, those broads'll
chew your ear off.
(thunder crashing)
(eerie music)
(thunder rolling)
Hello?
Hello?
"WING! here?
Hello?
Hello?
Oh, I'm sorry.
Did I frighten you?
Yes, you scared me
half to death.
- You must be Mrs. Briggs.
- That's right.
Hi, I'm Whitney Taylor.
We met two years ago at the
Rhode Island School of Design.
You lectured on Classicism
and the decline of
pop art in America.
Oh, I remember.
You were the heckler
in the first row.
Well, actually
I was just offering you
So to speak.
Well, shall we get on with it?
I'm sorry?
The interview.
Would you shut
the door, please?
I love to be frightened.
issue of Cellar Dweller
no matter how hard they
were to track down.
I'm not surprised.
Well, my parents disapproved,
so I had to hide the comic
books under my bed and...
I'd read them only late
at night by flashlight.
I'd read about towns
besieged by vampires and
men transformed
into hideous beasts
by the waxing
of the full moon.
How inspiring.
Exactly, well, that's how
I got into drawing.
So now you've taken it
upon yourself to
follow in the footsteps
of your idol, hm?
- Colin Childress.
- That's my dream.
As you can see the first
few sketches are just copies
of Childress' work.
I was just really
learning how to draw,
and the rest, of course,
are my own.
Mrs. Briggs, I want to create
in the tradition
of Cellar Dweller.
be inspired than here in the...
house that Colin Childress
lived and worked in?
And went crazy in
Let's not forget that.
Ms. Taylor, all of this
is very spine-tingling.
But what does it
have to do with art?
I'm sorry?
Let me be frank:
This facility's
admissions committee
has advised me to
find a place for you.
I suspect, however,
that in accepting you
my superiors are, well,
acting on some perverse
sense of nostalgia.
Colin Childress
was a cartoonist.
So are you.
That's the only
reason you're here.
If it were up to me,
you wouldn't be.
No need to mince words,
Mrs. Briggs.
Just tell me exactly
how you feel.
Well, please don't
misunderstand.
There's nothing
personal in all this.
It's just that my only
concern is for the colony.
(Mrs. Briggs):
See,we have no telephones,
no television, no outside
ties to the world.
- It's a unique situation.
- What's all this?
Our most promising
resident does some
highly innovative
work with video.
This is her
Video Verit project.
It's an effort to
reflect our world...
as precisely as possible.
You could learn
something from her.
(eerie music)
Oh, by the way,
that is where your idol
concocted his last and
most notorious work.
The murder of an
innocent young woman.
her entire career ahead of her.
Oh, and don't even think
about going down there.
That door is off-limits.
(mysterious music)
(heavy breathing)
(frightening music)
(screaming)
As you can see,
this is our kitchen.
We all take turns
preparing the meals.
This is Whitney Taylor,
our newest resident.
Lisa is a performance artist.
And Phillip
paints abstracts.
discourage this kind
of work, Mrs. Briggs.
Not all contemporary art
is populist tripe, Ms. Taylor.
Come along.
(thunder rolling)
(Whitney):
Yep?(Phillip:
) Hey.Hi.
What do you think?
(Whitney):
It's...It's very nice, that's...
That's a cow in there,
huh?
It's very nice.
It's angst.
Sorry.
- Phillip Lemley.
- Whitney Taylor.
Enchanted.
Likewise.
Aren't you a little old
for comics, Whitney?
Aren't you a little young
to be a critic, Phillip?
You're right.
I'm sorry.
So I guess we have
something in common, huh?
Really?
What's that?
A great big thorn
in our side:
Mrs. Briggs.She doesn't think
much of me, either.
Why not?
Because I'm brilliant.
But alas, my lady,:
I am just a mere
child and a
pawn of the cruel trappings
of our Mrs. Briggs.
- Come on.
- Where?
To my opening.
- Your opening?
- Yes.
Every evening
a group of us gather
to critique each
other's work.
It's the one time we're supposed
to share what we're doing.
And I'm sure you'll find the
comments most enlightening.
(Mrs. Briggs):
The excessof flamboyance of the
coloration of your
painting detracts
from the power
of the narrative
and the true glory
of the painting.
Could you repeat
that in English?
It's elegant.
Powerful.
And deceptively simple.
It has this
amazing otherness.
Alright, give me the paintings
or the broad gets it.
I'm flattered; you really think
they're that valuable?
(gunshot)
(screams)
What on earth
are you doing?!
Can it, lad?!
Now hand them over.
I really mean business.
Jesus, Phillip,
give him the paintings!
Nu.
No, he's bluffing.
Don't count on it, lady.
You're not going
to shoot her.
You want to take that chance?
That gun you're so proud
of is a .357 Magnum.
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