The Film So Scary I Became a Vegetarian
Brandon Wetherbee
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I don’t use beach season or tropical vacations or holidays as an excuse to lose weight or get in shape or anything else related to my diet. But there is one film I can always put on that’ll ensure weight loss. It’s a movie that helps me avoid all meat for years at a time. It’s barely a horror film. It’s absolutely nauseating.
I didn’t grow up with cable. Now, I was not a sheltered kid, kept away from movies or television targeted toward adults. I was not raised in a religious household. In fact, I do not remember one day or night when the television wasn’t on at our house. I was not frightened or freaked out by anything I saw on a glowing screen. But certain films just weren’t shown on terrestrial television.
I loved cable. I’d watch anything at my friends’ houses. I especially enjoyed hanging out at one friend’s place that had the black box, which meant he had all the movie channels and adult channels and stuff especially interesting to kids in junior high. As the only kid with just over-the-air TV, I’d find myself with a group of friends at the start of the movie in a living room and alone in the same living room while my pre-teen friends found much more entertaining ways to kill time. It was pretty normal stuff.
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Most every scary movie I consumed before I had my own TV and VCR was not of my choosing. Only looking back does it become clear that not choosing what I consumed helped shape me much more than what I grew to program for myself.
In terms of film bona fides, I think I’m well above average. I got my first video store rental job at 15 (the store even had an adult section so I was probably not supposed to have that gig), a movie theater job at 16, a Blockbuster job at 17, an art house job at 18, etc. I’ve been writing about films for more than half of my life. I have willingly put on well over a thousand films and none of them, not the hardest of hardcore almost-snuff films, is as gut-churning as a PG-13-rated comedy film by one of the Blues Brothers.
I’ve been putting it off on purpose. I should face my fears and finally describe the film Nothing But Trouble. NYC yuppies are leaving the big city, driving a then-fancy luxury car. They get pulled over for blowing a stop sign. They’re thrown into a room below the courthouse to be judged the next day. The 106-year-old judge and the yuppies eat dinner and this is the part that’s been in my head and stomach for 30+ years. There’s gross-out humor. We’re led to believe the sausages they’re eating are possibly made from human intestines.
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Listen, I think some of this is funny! The Hawaiian Punch bit is sort of re-used in Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. The use of a model train set as a lazy Susan is just a good idea. There are redeeming aspects of this scene, but once the hot dogs are served, I’m out.
I remember nothing else from Nothing But Trouble, a movie that also features Tupac Shakur in his first role. I do not need to remember anything else because this movie revealed something about myself. It is not fear-based.
I am not in fear of being eaten. Once the lights are turned off, do whatever to my body.
I am not in fear of accidentally consuming flesh. We live in an era of mass-produced meats. I’m assuming I’ve eaten at least part of a person by now. I love hot dogs. I’m not in denial.
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This movie taught me that I have misophonia. To this day I hate, hate, hate hearing people eat, including myself. I do not know if I had this fight or flight response before seeing Nothing But Trouble. It does not matter. It’s here. There’s no going back.
If I see the dining scene from Nothing But Trouble, I’m just off meat for the foreseeable future. I am no longer hungry and furious, yet again, at Chevy Chase. (For some reason I’m cool with Dan Aykroyd even though he directed, wrote, and starred in this film. Maybe it’s because I can never hate a guy that’s made it clear he hates Illinois Nazis.).
Choosing to see spooky stuff, willingly entering into an agreement with the fear, makes it just not as fearful. Stumbling upon something, something explicitly made so you’d laugh rather than scream, is truly terrifying.
Categorized:Editorials
