This October Join us at Discarded I's blog for a marathon Of William Castle movies!

Tune In Tuesday:It/The Shuddered Room

IT (1967) Stars Roddy McDowell. A museum assistant stumbles upon the fact that a massive statue is enchanted. It comes to life and can be controlled with a small scroll. The massive statue becomes a creature of murder in the hands of the twisted museum worker.

THE SHUTTERED ROOM (1966) Stars Gig Young, Carol Lynley and Oliver Reed. A young hip couple in the swinging 1960s are plunged into Gothic horror when they enter an isolated New England town called Dunwich. They've inherited an old millhouse and horror too. A tale of creepy madness from H.P. Lovecraft.

Warner Brothers’ DVD release of "The Shuttered Room" IT!" offers a nostalgic dive into the realm of psychological horror, showcasing two distinct styles of storytelling that capture the essence of their source material.

The Shuttered Room" (1967) is an atmospheric adaptation of a short story by H.P. Lovecraft. The film's eerie setting and haunting visuals create a compelling sense of dread, enhanced by the performances of its cast. The DVD presentation highlights the film's moody cinematography, though it occasionally feels dated. Still, its exploration of isolation and madness resonates well, appealing to fans of classic horror.

"it! (1967)" unfolds in a remote location where characters confront their fears and the creature's influence.Themes of isolation, fear, and the unknown creep beneath the cornball 60s surface. utilizing suspenseful cinematography the movie is a cut above most of similar ilk. Obviously it does not have the same depth or notoriety as Stephen King's work it has gained a cult following for its unique take on horror and psychological themes. A worthy purchase.

A Needed Evil

A Story by Laurence Adams

The dim lights of the jazz club flickered like fireflies, casting shadows across Lena’s canvas displayed against the brick wall. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and the sound of a saxophone wailing in the background. Marcus leaned against the bar, drink in hand, his gaze fixed on Lena’s vibrant colors clashing with the muted ambiance.

Lena stepped down from her platform, frustration radiating from her. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about selling supplies. It’s about the soul of the art.”

Marcus smirked, but there was a tightness in his chest. “And starving artists achieve what exactly? Idealism won’t pay the rent, Lena. I’m trying to help you succeed.”

“By turning my work into another product on a shelf?” she shot back, her voice rising. “You think your polished sales pitch can justify the commodification of creativity?”

The tension between them crackled like the jazz notes soaring overhead. Marcus set his drink down, stepping closer. “You call it commodification; I call it survival. You think artists don’t need to eat? They have bills, just like everyone else.”

“And selling out is the answer?” Lena’s eyes blazed, the colors of her art echoing her passion. “You’re just another cog in the machine, Marcus. It’s all about the profit for you.”

He stepped back, the sting of her words landing hard. “You don’t know me. I believe in art—”

“Do you?” She challenged him, her voice low and cutting. “Or do you just believe in the sale?”

Silence hung between them, heavy and suffocating. The music faded as they stared each other down, the world around them blurring into nothing. 

Finally, Marcus’s voice softened, almost a whisper. “I want to believe in both, but I can’t do that alone. Can you meet me halfway?”

Lena looked away, the fire in her eyes flickering as doubt crept in. “Halfway? You think we can compromise on something that’s either pure or it’s not? It’s all or nothing.”

As the saxophone took flight once more, the moment stretched, caught in a rhythm of uncertainty.

Lena took a deep breath, her mind racing. “You really believe we can find a way to honor the art while still making it accessible?”

“Absolutely,” Marcus replied, his intensity matching hers. “Art should be for everyone. It can inspire, provoke thought, and yes, make money, too. But it has to come from a place of authenticity.”

She crossed her arms, skepticism lingering in her gaze. “And how do we do that without compromising my vision? You’ve seen my work. It’s not exactly mainstream.”

“Good!” he said, a spark of excitement lighting his eyes. “Mainstream is boring. Let’s use that uniqueness to our advantage. We’ll create a narrative around your art that captivates people, that pulls them in.”

Lena hesitated, the idea swirling in her mind. “A narrative? You mean like a story?”

“Exactly! Every great piece of art tells a story, right? Let’s find yours. What inspired you to create these pieces? What’s your message?”

She uncrossed her arms, curiosity piquing. “You really want to help me craft that story?”

“More than anything,” he said earnestly. “I see the passion in your work. Let’s channel that into something powerful. We can host an exhibition, tell your story through a series of events—”

“An exhibition?” she interrupted, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. “What if it fails?”

“It won’t,” he replied, his confidence unwavering. “And even if it does, it’ll be a step toward something greater. Every artist faces rejection; it’s part of the journey. But you can’t let fear hold you back.”

Lena’s heart raced at the thought. “You make it sound easy, Marcus. But what if I’m just not good enough? What if nobody cares?”

“Lena,” he said, his voice steady, “you are more than good enough. Your art has a voice. People will connect with it if you let them. Remember, it’s not just about selling something —it’s about sharing your vision.”

She looked away, grappling with her doubts. “And what if I end up like you? Stuck selling someone else’s dreams instead of pursuing my own?”

“Then I’ll help you stay true to yours,” Marcus assured her, stepping closer. “This isn’t about me; it’s about you finding your path. I’ve been where you are, and I want to see you succeed.”

For a moment, they stood in the warm glow of the club, the world around them fading into the background. Lena’s resolve began to shift. “Okay. Let’s say I trust you. How do we start?”

Marcus smiled, relief flooding his expression. “First, we map out your story. Then we plan an event that highlights not just your art, but you as the artist. It’s time people know who you are.”

“Alright,” Lena said, a tentative smile breaking through. “But I won’t compromise on my vision, Marcus. It has to be authentic.”

“Agreed. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with determination. “We’ll make something beautiful together.”

As the music swelled again, the tension between them transformed into a shared purpose, each ready to step into the unknown. They raised their glasses in a toast, a silent promise to navigate the complexities of art and commerce, together.

"The Planning Session"

The following week, Marcus and Lena met in a sun-drenched café, the chatter of patrons blending with the aroma of fresh coffee. They spread out sketches and notes across the table, the remnants of pastries crumbling between them.

“Okay, let’s brainstorm,” Marcus said, leaning in, excitement bubbling beneath his calm demeanor. “How can we turn so,ethijg so banal and evil like the sales process into a beautiful art form?”

Lena raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Your trying to justify selling as an an art? I thought that was the problem we were fighting against.”

“It can be both,” he insisted. “Think of it this way: the act of selling is a performance. You’re inviting people into your world, telling them a story about why your art matters.” ,Marcus said, in mock earnestness.

She paused, considering his words. “So, you’re saying we use the sales pitch itself to make it creative?” she said, a mix of revulsion and opportunity in her voice.

“Exactly! It’s all about presentation. How you frame your work—what emotions you evoke in your audience.” He leaned back, hands clasped. “For example, let’s turn the exhibition into an immersive experience. Create a narrative journey that draws people in.” Marcus was proud of himself.

Lena leaned forward, intrigued. “An experience? Like an interactive installation?” this hit Lena where she lived.

“Exactly! Imagine your paintings displayed in a way that guides viewers through your thought process—each piece telling a chapter of your story. You could even perform live, talking about your inspiration while they engage with your work.”

Her eyes lit up. “That could create a deeper connection. People often overlook the stories behind the art.”

“And that’s where the art of selling lies,” Marcus replied, energized. “You’re not just selling a canvas; you’re selling the journey, the struggle, the joy that led to its creation. When they connect with that, they’ll want to take a piece of it home.” Marcus revved his engine. 

Lena smiled, the doubt starting to fade. “And I could showcase the raw process too—maybe even have some live painting during the event?”

“Absolutely!” Marcus said, his enthusiasm infectious. “Show them the messiness of creativity. The failures, the revisions—it’s all part of the art. Let them see the human behind the masterpiece.”

Lena felt a thrill run through her. “So, the commerce doesn’t have to dilute the art; it can amplineeded. Lena allowed herself to believe for a moment. 

“Exactly! Art and commerce can coexist. It’s about how you frame it,” Marcus said, nodding. “Selling isn’t just a transaction; it’s an invitation to participate in your vision.” His eyes leered.

As they continued brainstorming, Lena began to envision the exhibition as a living, breathing entity. “And what if we included workshops? Letting people create their own pieces alongside mine?”

Marcus clapped his greasy hands together. “Brilliant! That way, they can experience the act of creation firsthand. You’re not just a vendor; you’re a guide, leading them into the world of art.”

“I like that,” she said, her confidence building. “It transforms the whole event into a celebration of creativity rather than just a sales pitch.”

“Exactly!” Marcus replied, a  sleazy, satisfied grin spreading across his face. “You’ll be making art in commerce and commerce in art.”

“Let’s do this,” she said, determination lighting her eyes. “Let’s show the world that selling art can be an art form in itself.” But deep inside,  she knew what a deal with a demon felt like. And she had just made one.

"The Exhibition Night"

The night of the exhibition arrived, the gallery transformed into a vibrant oasis of color and sound. Soft jazz flowed through the air, mingling with the excited chatter of guests milling about, drinks in hand. Marcus stood at the entrance, dressed sharply, his heart racing with anticipation. 

Lena was backstage, her hands trembling as she prepared for the performance. She could hear the crowd’s murmur, feel their curiosity building. This wasn’t just an exhibition; it was a celebration of her journey, her struggle, and her art.

As the clock struck seven, Marcus took the mic. “Welcome, everyone! Tonight, we invite you to step into Lena’s world—a world filled with creativity, passion, and the messiness of the artistic process.”

The crowd quieted, and Lena stepped onto the makeshift stage, her canvas illuminated by soft spotlights. “Thank you for being here,” she began, her voice steadying as she caught Marcus’s encouraging smile. “Art isn’t just something you see; it’s something you feel. Tonight, I want you to experience that feeling with me.”

She motioned to the first piece—a large, abstract painting that pulsed with emotion. “This piece reflects my journey through doubt and frustration. I want to share not just the finished product, but the story behind it.”

As she spoke, Lena’s passion radiated. The crowd leaned in, captivated by her vulnerability. “This is what it felt like to create,” she said, gesturing to a nearby easel. “And I want you to join me in that experience.”

The sound of brushes on canvas filled the space as Lena began a live painting session, her movements fluid and expressive. Guests watched in awe, the art of selling transformed into an act of creation. Marcus moved through the crowd, engaging with attendees, sharing stories about Lena’s work, drawing them in.

“Did you know she uses unconventional materials in her pieces?” he said to a couple, pointing to a painting made with recycled items. “It’s all about sustainability and innovation.” for Marcus  needed to frame everything as a commodity to be sold.

As the guests mingled, they engaged with the art in unexpected ways. Some picked up brushes at the workshop station, experimenting alongside Lena. Laughter and chatter filled the air, blending seamlessly with the jazz music, creating an atmosphere of shared creativity.

As Lena painted, she shared anecdotes—about her struggles with self-doubt, the moments that inspired her, and the journey of finding her voice. The crowd was entranced, each story deepening their connection to her art.

At one point, a woman approached Lena, eyes shining. “Your work is incredible. I never thought I could feel so much just by looking at a painting.”

“That’s the power of art,” Lena replied, wiping paint from her hands. “It’s meant to resonate. I want you to see yourself in it, to feel something.”

As the night wore on, the gallery buzzed with energy. Marcus caught sight of a small group gathered around one of Lena’s paintings, debating its meaning. He stepped closer, listening as they discussed their interpretations, waiting to pounce his prey.

“See?” he thought, a smile creeping onto his ugly face. “This is what we aimed for. Art sparking conversation, igniting passion.”

The evening culminated with Lena standing before her largest piece, a vibrant explosion of colors and shapes. “Thank you all for being a part of this journey with me. Your support means everything.”

As applause filled the room, Lena felt a surge of gratitude and pride. The connection she’d forged with her audience was palpable, the lines between artist and viewer blurred. It was worth the price.

Marcus joined her on stage, beaming a sickly gleam. “And remember, tonight isn’t just about the art on the walls—it’s about the connections we make, the stories we share, and the creativity we all possess. Let’s keep that alive. And buy something!”

Lena looked at Marcus, who she had decided was a needed evil.Together, they had turned selling into an art form.and lena truly believed they were the 1st to try this. Marcus smiled, another spoiled soul for the stack.

Tune In Tuesday-The Conan Chronicles Arrow Blu Ray

Ripped from the pages of Robert E. Howard's beloved pulp stories, 1982's Conan the Barbarian and its sequel, 1984's Conan the Destroyer, not only popularized a new subgenre - the sword-and-sorcery film - but also made a cinematic icon of the star playing the titular hero, former bodybuilding sensation Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Conan the Barbarian, from maverick filmmaker John Milius, sees the Cimmerian thief and future king rise up from slavery to become an unparalleled and fearsome warrior, intent on vengeance against the evil snake cult that slaughtered his family long ago, led by the shape-shifting sorcerer Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones). In the sequel, helmed by action veteran Richard Fleischer, Conan finds himself escorting a young princess on a quest for a mythical horn that will awaken a slumbering god, battling an onslaught of evil beasts, wizards and cannibals along the way.

I grew up on these flicks, and the sat morning cartoon. As a teen I discovered the stories. Riddle of steel, basil poledorous score is the best ever. Themes of Nietzsche permeate the first, a lighter more fun tone the 2nd. Both are essential viewing. Thulsa Doom is James Earl Jones at his best. ARNOLD at his best along with Terminator. A thrilling watch, the special features are orgiastic.