Snow White: A Tale of Terror

No fairy-tale endings this time.

Going far-darker than Disney, this wickedly-good late ’90s flick leans hard into the horror aspect of the story, allowing Sigourney Weaver to tear up the screen as a bloodthirsty woman bent on revenge.

She’s actually a nice stepmother for some time, but driven to despair after Snow, her brat of a stepdaughter, causes her to suffer a stillborn child.

Turning to the mirror, Weaver is seduced by the dark side, setting up a war of betrayals.

Everyone has trust issues, and there’s not a song to be heard, from human or animal.

Bloody good.


One mad mama trumps 100 space marines.

When the alien acid really hits the fan, the trained killers start screaming (and dying) like first-time rookies.

Game over, man, indeed.

Instead, it’s the far-tougher-than-she-looks Ellen Ripley who straps on the weapons of war and heads out to kick some ass to protect those she loves.

Ridley Scott’s original built big-time suspense with its cat-and-mouse games on the edge of the galaxy, while James Cameron comes in and ramps up the action the second time around.

Honoring what came before while finding a creative reason to continue the story — a sequel done right.



I blame Canada.

We were on a family vacation when a young David, up past midnight with his sister, saw this sci-fi classic for the first time.

One moment John Hurt is doggedly shoveling in food, which you do after having seemingly recovered from an up-close-and-personal meeting with a face-hugging interstellar creature.

Who knew, back in a time before internet spoilers, that we were about to witness a seminal gross-out moment?

Bless you, Ridley Scott, for forever scarring my eyeballs and making me think that anytime my chest hurts even slightly that it’s all about to go really, really wrong.