Alright, let’s get one thing straight. Yes, I shat my pants. And honestly, I probably let a whole lot more than poop out in those things, but I was too scared to check and find out. I couldn’t help it. What I had just witnessed was simply more than my intellectual mind could take. I was scared. Petrified. And what could have done this to me?

“The Arrival of a Train,” baby.

Directed by the Lumiere brothers (and yes, I know there’s supposed to be an accent mark over one of the e’s. I just don’t believe in them), the film was especially important in the time it was released. Why? Well, some would tell you it was because there were only, like, two films released before this one. I, on the other hand, would beg to differ.

Let’s look at what happens in this picture. A train enters a station. Now that we’ve gotten the plot out of the way, why don’t we sink our teeth into the subtext? What would a train represent? The influence industrialization has taken on our lives? A penis? A train? I don’t have a straight answer. All I know is that when I saw that thing heading toward me, brother, my heart started pounding!

Now, the other people at the screening would have you believe that I was being the weird one. Wrong! I looked at accounts of the original audience’s reaction to this film, and let me tell you, they were almost as bad as mine. People were running. Screaming. Scared for their lives. I was all of those things and more. The sociopaths sitting next to me, on the other hand, seemed to have been robbed of whatever tiny sliver of humanity they once had. Not a single scream left their lips nor a single tear dropped from their eyes. It disgusted me.

I guess people in the past must have been more in touch with their emotions. When they saw a train, they knew it was a train. To the modern schmuck, a train is just a bunch of pixels dancing around a screen. When I puked my guts out into my popcorn bucket, I felt connected on a spiritual level to my ancestors. I guess I’m just better than everyone else or something. I mean, I’ve always suspected it, but it’s nice to have confirmation on the whole thing.

I actually mentioned to the family of four seated next to me that I was better than them. I said, “What are you doing just sitting and staring at the screen? Can’t you feel anything? Or do you not let yourselves?” 

Then I noticed the four-year-old cover his nose with his fingers. “What the hell are you doing?!” I screamed at him. 

“Your breath, mister. It stinks”. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I think it’s the smell of the throw-up,” the mom said as she grabbed her son and pulled him away from me. 

“What, is there something wrong with vomit nowadays? You goddamn kids and your cancel culture. I ought to strangle you for that.”

That’s when the father stepped up to me, widening his arms to cover his family from the “weirdo.” Our eyes met. Our lips snarled. “We don’t want any trouble, mister,” he pleaded.

I laughed. “Don’t you know? Trouble’s what I do best!”

Their two-year-old started crying. Good.

I pulled my switchblade out of my pocket. It had been covered in piss, shit, and whatever the hell else I’d been emitting from my orifices. The family started to run. I let them. Most of them, at least. I pointed to the father. He had to stay.

I held his shirt in a grip. “Wh-what are you doing?” He whimpered helplessly as I leaned in close. 

“You think you’re a man? A real man?” 

“Puh.. please, I have a family!”

“I’m sure they’ll miss ya.”

I raised my knife…

Anyway, by that point, the movie was over since it’s basically like ten seconds. In all, I’m feeling a good eight shits out of ten on this one, and if you’re wondering if I mean that as a bad thing, I don’t. I finally got around to counting, and that’s how many shits I had in my pants by the time this steam-powered classic rolled it’s way off the screen, and when it comes to horror films, the more shits, the better. So, if you’ve been having issues with constipation and have the attention span of an iPad kid, I think “The Arrival of a Train” might be the perfect film for you.