(Photo Courtesy of Emerson Film Enterprises)The Good Beer
Pumpkins. Pumpkins everywhere. In your coffee, in your hair and — in your beer!
In honor of the spookiest fall holiday, and at the recommendation of fellow State Press writer Samantha Shotzbarger, I picked up some of Tempe's finest seasonal beverage, the Four Peaks Pumpkin Porter. It was smooth, subtle and rewarding in every way.
At first glance, the darker Pumpkin Porter looks like it’s going to be a lot to handle. The experience, however, could not be more rewarding. One of the things I liked most about the beer was the way it graced my mouth — at no point did I ever feel overwhelmed or find myself wishing for either a thicker or thinner brew. To put it simply, it just felt right.
Given the emphasis on pumpkin, I was expecting fairly flavorful drink. Up to this point, all pumpkin-flavored experiences have been pretty intense. I'm willing to bet that these businesses are really leaning on consumers craving a freakish amount of artificial flavor. To my delight, Four Peaks' Pumpkin Porter went a different route, opting for a far subtler fall spice flavor that complemented the beverage, rather than an audacious showing of a pumpkin arsenal. Upon first sips, I wasn't even sure I had the right beer, but the smooth, lingering aftertaste is where the spices can be enjoyed, and it was a great touch that really rounded out the entire experience.
The Bad Movie
Halloween is full of terrors hiding behind every corner. In the southwest, these terrors lurk in the most damning of landscapes: the desert. With this in mind, I elected to take on the woefully painful experience of “Manos: The Hands of Fate.”
Set in 1960s west Texas, “Manos” is your classic horror story. A family of three and their dog are on holiday and decide to spend it together in a secluded cabin.
After the family gets lost in the desert, Torgo, a seemingly drunk steward of an abandoned house, meets them. After some deliberation, Torgo reluctantly gives the family permission to stay in the house overnight. Once inside, the family notices a painting on the wall that features a mustachioed man and an intimidating dog staring into their souls. After some back-and-forth, an accident with the family’s dog, and Torgo's revelation of his love for the matriarch of the family, the audience is introduced to the man in the painting: a playboy warlock Anthony Kiedis.
The man is surrounded by a number of women, who seem to be under a spell. Eventually, it is revealed that this man is Torgo's master and the chief servant of Manos, a god or spirit of sorts.
The master turns on Torgo, claiming that the aforementioned matriarch is for him, and kills him. The family attempts to escape, but cannot. By the end of the film, the audience is unsure of what happened to the family, until two of their friends are featured on screen driving through the same desert from the beginning of the film. After it starts raining, they arrive at the house only to find a familiar face had taken Torgo’s place.
Right out of the gate, this movie has everything that makes for a piece of terribly incredible cinema: awkward editing that features the characters bouncing back and forth on screen, the time of day changing drastically during the same scenes, a number of characters who serve almost absolutely no purpose other than the few seconds they are on screen, and writing that is not sure about anything in the story but the end.
Despite the movie being an atrocity, it does have an interesting facet to it that makes it more important of a film than I initially expected. Coming out in 1966, “Manos” effectively plays on a fear of desert dwelling, spiritual hippies, and the ability of a convincing man to brainwash his subjects into carrying out acts of evil for him. Three years later, in 1969, Charles Manson and the women under his spell carried out vicious attacks on Hollywood stars. Thus, “Manos” was merely ahead of its time.
Reach the reporter at zjenning@asu.edu or follow him on Twitter @humanzane
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