ScarecrowsI don’t know how it happened, I’m not aware of any childhood trauma (it could be repressed), I don’t know exactly its origin, but scarecrows have always scared the hell out of me.  Now that I think about it, I can remember back when I was very, very, young, maybe three or four, when my grandfather built a haunted house in his backyard.  I can remember a body stuffed with hay.  I remember it scared me.

But I also like scarecrows.  The Scarecrow (of DC) is my favorite comic book villain; pictures of scarecrows are scattered throughout my computer.  I like them, what can I say?  Do I like them because they scare me?  I don’t know.  They can be frightening, when used effectively.  For evidence of how scary these stuffed bastards can be, I suggest you watch the 1988 masterpiece, Scarecrows, as directed and co-written by William Wesley.

There’s been a robbery at Camp Pendleton; five daring thieves have made off with a butt load of money, right around three million dollars.  They escape via hijacked airplane with two hostages, the pilot and his dollar.  Here’s where there’s evidence there is no honor among thieves:  one of the robbers double-crosses the other four, steals the money, and parachutes out of the plane.  He lands at a deserted farmhouse, with only scarecrows hanging about as company.


This double-cross, naturally, pisses off the other four robbers (it’s three mil, I would be a little ticked too).  They force the pilot to land the plane near the farm.  The robbers and their hostages foot it to the farmhouse to find the Benedict Arnold.  They find the dirty double-crossing thief, and a little extra bonus:  the scarecrows come to life and terrorize the trespassers, killing them in right gruesome fashion and stuffing them with straw.

Scarecrows is low budget, but my God what was done with it.  Less is more.  It’s well told, well made, horrifying, and tightly wound.  There are some really great shocks here.  You’ll never look at a scarecrow the same way again.

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