007: Killer Klowns from Outer Space

007: Killer Klowns from Outer Space

Our Boxketeers become three this week, as artist Arthur Peña joins Tyler and Shawn to discuss one of his childhood video traumas: Killer Klowns from Outer Space. We dive deep into this foundational classic of VHS terror, covering oft-neglected topics like klown physics, confetti ontology, and, of course, alien sex. Inevitably, we will raise more questions than we can answer, but that's the name of the game here on Trauma Box. Scope Arthur's awesome work at https://www.arthurdpena.com/

006: Breeders

This week, our intrepid Trauma Boxers brave Breeders, erotic auteur Tim Kincaid's 1986 direct-to-video grime-fest.The man behind Mutant Hunt, Robot Holocaust, and LA Tool & Die brings us seventy-odd minutes of unhinged post-C.H.U.D. NYC nightmare. It's a gross and grim affair, but oddly joyous in a Brecht-meets-Waters kind of way. At Trauma Box, we brave the bottom of the trash bin so you, dear listener, don't have to.

005: Tomboy

Tyler and Shawn explore a different corner of the Trauma Box this week with 1985's Tomboy. A staple of video store shelves of yore, Tomboy's iconic cover had wedged itself in the psyches of both hosts. What did we discover upon viewing? It's Flashdance with none of the heart meets Porky's with half the wit - that is to say: it's pretty good! Join us this week for a bawdier-than-usual breeze through the Trauma Box.

004: Xtro

The Trauma Box bites back this week with Xtro, Harry Bromley Davenport's offering from 1982, an impossibly grim and upsettingly British ode to ooze. Why do we keep watching horrific films with dead/absent fathers and animated toys? What the hell is our problem? And, more pressingly, what drugs was Harry Bromley Davenport on?

003: Making Contact

Once again Tyler and Shawn open up the Trauma Box to investigate one of the great sources of childhood horror: the Ventriloquist Dummy. Is there anything scarier than an evil talking puppet? With 1985's Making Contact, Roland Emmerich (yes - the director of Independence Day) answers that question in a truly chilling fashion: by presenting us with a *German* evil talking puppet. A nightmarish perversion of Spielbergian childhood wonder-terror, Making Contact will haunt you for years to come.