May (two and a half stars total) I've heard a psychological explanation for feeling uncomfortable around people with physical defects (amputation; blindness; cerebral palsy) which is that they make you subconsciously consider the possibility of sustaining similar defects yourself. You've probably heard that obesity and smoking are considered contagious because people feel more comfortable with their own bad habits when they have friends or neighbors with similar habits. May (2002) is all about social anxieties, like whether or not desperate advances from a gay coworker (a goth Anna Faris) can turn you gay too, whether or not it's a faux-pas to make out while watching horror movies, whether or not you should even admit to watching horror movies (Jeremy Sisto, better known as Elton on Clueless). I have a lazy eye that I know has bothered people and a teddy bear that I treat with the same respect I would a living person, so you'd think that May's eyepatch and talking doll collection would hit home for me. However, I find eyepatches and dolls just as creepy as the next person (according to this movie, talking dolls sound like glass breaking). It's perfectly natural to put yourself into fictional stories (actually, that's the whole point), but the only part of me that I could see in May was her choice in stereo equipment. Have you ever watched a movie where a character wears an outfit that you also happen to own or a scene is filmed in your hometown - perhaps down your street or at a restaurant you frequent? My coinkydink connection isn't that rare, but it turns out I have the exact same Sony boombox that May plays at her veterinary clinic (yay for me and product placement). Speaking of her job though, I would never try to compensate for a lack of human interaction by caring for animals. If you're the kind of person that need lots of attention, maybe a cat's not the best pet for you. I'm not saying that cats don't love their owners, they just do it on their own timetable, and they can't defend themselves as well as humans against sudden, violent outbursts. So to all you cool cats and kittens out there, stay away from May."In a horror movie-esque situation, even when the axe is about to drop, don't let the intensity get to you. Because in a horror movie, once people start to pick at each other, those same people start to get picked off. Maybe killers' dislike for fights stems from an unpleasant home life during childhood. Most murderers grew up in less than ideal situations, and arguing mothers and fathers top the list of Reasons to Become a Murderous Psycho. Alternatively, it could be a dislike for loud noises (although they've picked a strange profession if they dislike screaming)." (Meredith O'Hayre, The Scream Queen's Survival Guide, p. 146)
The clue to solving the "locked room mystery" in Session 9 (three and a half stars total) comes in the form of advice given by the first victim (played by the coach from Glory Road) to the new kid (played by the shoplifter in Empire Records) on an asbestos cleanup crew: "Just have an exit plan, dude. You stick with this job long enough, it'll mess you up, man. It gets inside you - the stress." Interestingly, the character mentions stress over the threat of asbestos exposure, but that's the tip off. I don't mention this to spoil the plot for anyone, just to show that it's a tightly woven plot and it's the little things that you glance over that come back around. Most mysteries aren't fun the second time around because they hinge entirely on the ending, but that's not the case with Session 9 (2001). I used to hate old Matlock (1986) and Perry Mason (1957) episodes where you'd think you had it figured out only for them to introduce to a brand-new character in the last five minutes and reveal that they were the killer instead. Session 9 is a "locked room mystery" and that means that the killer HAS to be one the few characters present all along. What's more, the "locked room" in this mystery is the real-life, isolated and empty Danvers State Insane Asylum (pictured above), birthplace of the pre-frontal lobotomy. Five years after Session 9 was filmed there, it was partially demolished to be rebuilt as apartments, but those caught fire the very next year. Ominous history, wouldn't you agree? In my parents' hometown, there used to be an old, abandoned hospital on a hilltop, smack dab in the center of town (that's my brother pictured below, trespassing with me on the roof). Just like the hospital in the movie, ours was a public health hazard, a hideout for the homeless and a gallery for gang graffiti. We used to brave broken glass and the threat of a police record to secretly explore this dark, deserted dungeon. As a dumb kid, I never considered the possibility of falling or getting beat up without anyone to rescue us or know where to look for our bodies. Now I'm wondering if there were any other dumb kids that might have died there and continue to haunt that hillside to this day (insert scary noise here). 
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