Yesterday Kai and I were discussing my latest cinematic discovery:underwater, geisha gore feast: Oh! My Zombie Mermaid.
So she's a mermaid,Daddy, and she's a zombie. So you can't kill her, cos she's already dead? Interesting.
This is a generation of kids who think that Mr Lordi and his pals are rather cuddly: it's really not too easy to scare them.
Today we all went to the Stockholm Concerthouse to see a special children's show which was a cross between Ghostbusters and A Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra with a smidgeon of the Blair Witch Project. The story was of three girls who go in search of the dreaded Concerthouse Ghost. (Quite a thrill for me, who am used to gigs consisting of one solitary,mournful chap plucking his guitar and mumbling into his beard, to experience a full concert orchestra.)
There was one very amusing moment. After a scary search through the cellar, the terrifying phantom, complete with horrific white face paint and sporting a long mane of grey hair, suddenly materialises on the stage in a cloud of smoke.Spooky! I think the director's intention at this point was all the little ones would be clutching Mummy and Daddy's hand extra hard. What actually happened was that there were shouts from the audience of: Rock and Roll! Ozzy! and Sabbath!
I think they all seriously thought that the ghost was going to launch into Iron Man.
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