my bloody valentine
THE FLICK: Some might call “My Bloody Valentine” a hopelessly inept Canadian slasher movie – heck, the government even funded production as they did on David Cronenberg’s early exploitation shockers. But are Canadian’s really so different from the rest of us? So their “teenagers” in jeopardy are middle-aged coal miners with accents thicker than a slab of backbacon. Do they not bleed when gutted by a pickaxe? Do they not scream when thrown down a mineshaft or trapped in a dryer on high heat? Of course, they do. They just sound funny doing it. And that’s what makes “Valentine” so darn enjoyable – it’s an earnest slasher clone made at a time when audiences still took this stuff seriously, so well-versed in the serial killer rules it could have served as the guidebook for takeoffs like “Scream” and “Scary Movie.” Valentine Bluffs (wink, wink) is a quiet Canadian dump of a town getting ready to throw its first Valentine’s Day dance in over 20 years. But a madmen dressed up in a miner’s outf...