A question was floated at our regular Scanner beer-bong
sessions: Who was the horror film star who, in the words of Usher, made you
wanna? Our answers are weird, and varied, and possibly embarrassing. (One of them involves a movie that's not really even a horror film.) Know what?
It’s Halloween. We’re dressed as people who don’t give a damn.
Matthew Lillard, Scream: Halloween movies are just NOT about
the dudes. Honestly, I’m surprised Hollywood
even bothered to cast them, rather than just shelling out for some midgets in
masks to push the plot along. Halloween movies are about women--beautiful,
shrieking, imperiled women, bosoms heaving (about which you will soon hear)
-- and it’s hard to think of any guy who can hold a candle to that kind of
white-hot flame. When this question was first posed, my head sort of lurched
about: Jack Nicholson in The Shining? Father Damien, the troubled but hunky
Catholic priest of The Exorcist? And that’s the pool from which we girls must
pluck our Prince Charmings: demon or saint, killer or savior. But if I’m
honest, brutally honest and not trying to just look cool, then I will admit I
had a throbbing boner for Matthew Lillard in Scream, playing a sarcastic teen
who manages to be both of these things at once while also offering up some of
the movie’s best punchlines. Eventually, he played Shaggy in Scooby Doo. What can I say? I like the funny ones. — Sarah Hepola
Jamie Lee Curtis, Halloween; Sigourney Weaver, Alien: Oh,
Jamie Lee Curtis, goddamn you are cute in Halloween. And in the greatly inferior
Halloween II and, honestly, in A Fish Called Wanda, but that's a conversation
for another time. Today, it's Halloween, and who better to celebrate on
Halloween than the woman who consistently escaped Michael Myers' single-minded
pursuit for more than 20 years? At one point, she cut off his head, because when the
maniac is breathing down her neck, she does not fuck around. Except she's not
bloodthirsty or hard-hearted. Laurie Strode keeps it real and has especially
nice hair, which is what we look for in a horror movie heroine. BUT LEST WE FORGET: Imagine you're trapped on a space ship with a malevolent, super-powered
alien being. Right, we'd all have hurled ourselves into the black abyss of
outer space before we could finish reading that sentence. Not Ripley, though.
Ripley is as hard as Sarah’s throbbing boner for Matthew Lillard. The Alien is all,
"REEEaaaak!," and Ripley is all, "Eat flame thrower, you
bitch." That thing is so fucking scary, but next to Sigourney Weaver, it
just looks clumsy and kind of stupid. And then, it's time for white panties!
Not enough that we get to see her sweat, and fight, and mutter all stressed out
and pushed to the limit, after everything's almost said and done, we get to see
her take off her clothes. Thank you, Ripley, for taking off your clothes, and
for saving Earth from that slimy alien. In case any of you were thinking of
setting us up on a blind date sometime, this is our type. — Nicole
Pasulka
Terri Garr and Madeline Kahn, Young Frankenstein: The first
time I realized Young Frankenstein was full of sex jokes, I
was probably 17 and watching it again for the first time in, like, 10 years. I
guess my folks knew, correctly, that my young mind would
focus on the monster and the pratfalls and never pick up on the
intense undercurrent of Victorian horniness that underpins the film, bursting
occasionally at the seams like the ripe bosoms of its female leads, Teri Garr
and Madeline Kahn. But how could this not, on a subconscious level, be the very
beginning of my sexual life? Look how doubleplushot they are: Kahn, her lush
frame wrapped tightly in suits until being let loose hungrily in the film’s
climax; and Garr, her Swiss Miss outfits and pert, cheery availability causing
me even today to paw longingly at my TV. Dr. Frankenstein, you fool! I don’t
care how you pronounce your name! Get rid of that monster and find a hot tub
and a bottle of Schnapps, stat! — Bryan Christian
