Horror Without People: THE CHANGELING

Spoiler alert: you are gonna need some industrial-strength oven mitts to handle the extremely hot take I'm about to lay down. And that is: for my money ($0.36), the very best haunted house movies establish a real sense of place. Crazy, right? It should go without saying. But I'm saying it anyway, because saying things that people should already know is one of my favorite pastimes. In related news, pizza: so good!

But look, sure, you can have a successfully interesting and/or frightening supernatural horror film wherein you say a place is haunted and then you just plop some characters any-ol'-where and throw in some ghosts or whatever. (I don't want to brag, but I'm obviously pretty good at pitching stories.) But this is not the case with, say, The Shining or The Haunting, where the Overlook Hotel and Hill House are essential characters in the stories. Would the Torrance family have been as terrorized had they spent the winter at your local Motel 6? Yes, obviously, but for very different reasons: the rotting lady in the bathtub would have been high on krokodil, etc. It's just not the same!

The Changeling (1980) features a grand old haunted house that's rather reminiscent of Hill House. Why, it even comes with a warning, given by a Mrs. Dudley-esque dour, stern-faced matron.

That house is not fit to live in. No one's been able to live in it. It doesn't want people.

But no one ever listens to dour, stern-faced matrons–even though they always know what's up–and so John Russell stays in the sprawling manse. The exterior looms menacingly while inside there are seemingly endless hallways and staircases. Rooms are boarded up and hidden away, and the house is full of secrets. The visual cues in The Changeling are so abundant and the setting is so well-established that the tale is all but told without the need for dialogue.

awesome movie poster friday - the 1980 edition!

I gave The Changeling a peep for the first time in a long while last night and man, it's still so good. Good enough, in fact, to warrant its very own Awesome Movie Poster Friday. What an honor! But here's the thing...The Changeling hails from 1980 and 1980 was a great year for horror. It's no 1981, of course, but it gave us a veritable embarrassment of genre riches for sure and that is also good enough to warrant an Awesome Movie Poster Friday. Can you feel the love tonight?

Some other movies 1980 blessed us with have been featured with an AMPF before: Terror Train, The Fog, and Prom Night; City of the Living Dead; Inferno; Friday the 13th. There's also The Shining, but look, there are so many minimalist and modern posters for that movie that I honestly can't be bothered. It feels like it was an assignment for a graduating class of budding graphic designers or something, there are so many. But hey, the film itself is another reason why 1980 makes most other years look like total suckers for being so lame.

Horror Without People: MESSIAH OF EVIL

So there's this terrific tumblr (I know, tumblr, right?) called Cinema Without People. The first time I saw it, I was like hey, wow, what a great idea, wish I'd thought of it. But then I thought, hey, wow, didn't Picasso or Shia LeBeouf or whomever say something about stealing? I think so, so why don't I...appropriate the idea sometimes and link back to the dude who thought of it first? Seems fair, particularly since he only posts about horror movies once in a great great while (The Brood is sweet) and generally doesn't indulge in the delightful trash that I sometimes do.

And that's what's up with this idea I didn't think of! I thought it'd be fun to explore it a bit in the context of horror because of the ways in which place can be so important: building tension, establishing a sense of isolation, showing the aftermath of violence, etc.

I thought a good place to start would be the 1973 film Messiah of Evil, which, as you should know by now, I want to take as my unholy bride because I adore it to no end. The empty streets of Point Dume, the surrealistic art in the beach house, the beach itself...all of it imbues the movie with a desolate, ominous feeling. Even bright, familiar places like an innocuous grocery store have entered the realm of the uncanny–something really ain't right in Point Dume. Pray you can escape, because no one will hear you SCREAM!

WITCHERY (1988)

"They've got a bunch of legends about this island–witches and rainbows and shit."

Shine on, you crazy witch light.

Long have I lamented the fact that witches are not represented enough in horror cinema for my liking. (It seems there will soon be an upswing? If nothing else, horror loves a trend, and The Witch's success will surely start one.) I look around and see masked jerks killing teens, vampires doing their thing, giant-sized computer animals being hokey and I cry: where my witches at?

The Italians usually know what's up with this sort of thing (hi, Suspiria), so when I found a copy of Witchery I was perhaps inordinately excited when I discovered that it's a Filmirage production. Yes, Filmirage, the Italian production company founded by sleazemeister Joe D'Amato (director of Anthropophagus, Buio Omega, Hercules: A Sex Adventure, and approximately 200 more cine-delights) that bestowed upon the world Stage Fright, Pieces, and Troll 2. As if that wasn't enough to bring my anticipation to a fever pitch, well, Witchery features Linda Blair and David Hasselhoff. Surely my love story with this movie would be written in the stars!

Witchery definitely started off on the right foot, with a pregnant woman running from a bunch of black-clad, sickle-wielding dudes. Rather than submit to whatever it is they have planned, she busts through a window to what one presumes is her death. Listen, I love a good defenestration, so any move that features one a mere three minutes in is fine by me.

We crash into the now and Jane (Linda Blair) is saved from being splatted by a falling steel girder when a mysterious Lady in Black flashes a crystal in her eyes. "Phew! Close one," thinks Jane, probably. Jane is about eight months into what is surely a Chekov's pregnancy...I mean, there's no reason for her to be pregnant unless her unborn baby is going to figure into things later, yes? Duh. Also worth noting in this scene: the hard hat with "STICK IT IN" written on it.

Meanwhile, Gary (David Hasselhoff) and his girlfriend Leslie (Leslie Cumming) are in an abandoned hotel on a desolate island researching the "witch's light." Could it be the shining crystal sported by the Lady in Black? SPOILER: YES OF COURSE. Why are they researching this phenomenon? Leslie says she's translating some German book that's hundreds of years old, although frankly I'm a little dubious because Leslie can barely string two words together. Attempting to decipher Leslie's dialogue is a terrific mini-game you can play whilst watching Witchery; bonus points if you can figure out whether she's sedated or just an egregiously bad actress. (Seriously–say what you will about Hasselhoff but oh, how he vainly tried to act with his co-star. The John Barrowman/What's-Her-Name dynamic of Shark Attack III: Megalodon came to mind.)

Gary tries to cuddle up with his girl, but Leslie ain't having it–not even when he tries to shame her with "Virginity is not normal for a grown woman!" Hmm. Surely what we have here is Chekov's virgin, right? SPOILER: YES OF COURSE.

But if you're worried that Leslie's virginity means there won't be any sexnanigans in the movie, well this image should satiate you:

Yes, that is supposed to be sexy. It's real estate agent/architect (they're the same thing, practically) Linda (Catherine Hickland), who is on her way to Witch Light Island. Also worth noting: Catherine Hickland was married to David Hasselhoff when they made this film! Also also worth noting: they divorced soon after it was released. Was it because of the witch's curse? SPOILER: LET'S ALL ASSUME THIS IS THE CASE.

Jane is also on her way to Witch Light Island, along with her father, her stepmother, her little brother, and yet another real estate agent. They family wants to buy the abandoned hotel in the hope of opening a swanky resort. But what of the island's mysterious Lady in Black? She's everywhere (and nowhere!), appearing in broken windows and booze bottles. Sometimes she just chills by the sea like she's in an Enya video.

Is she a witch, or is she the aged, reclusive Norma Desmond-type actress rumored to be living in the hotel, or is she both? SPOILER: I GUESS SO.

Once everyone is assembled at the hotel, it's time for some witchnanigans. This means that one by one, folks...well, they scream in front of a red swirly effect, and then they're in a witch dimension where bad things happen to them. But they die in our dimension. Witch physics are complicated!

Characters have their mouths sewn shut. They're burned alive, impaled (on a wall-mounted marlin, no less)...and while it's generally bloody, it's not the Fulci-levels of gore I was expecting. Merely mild grossness is totally acceptable, don't get me wrong. But there's a disconnect in Witchery, like it wanted to be super extreme but everything looks really fake and shoddy and you find yourself saying "This is sort of fun, but it should definitely be grosser."

A few dead bodies and a spectral dream rape later and we find out the Lady in Black's plan–yeah, it's all a satanic ritual ("That's pronounced 'suhtaahnic richull'." - Leslie) ensuring that Jane will birth a baby that...does stuff? Eh, it's not really explained. This kind of shit is never explained, and these sorts of nebulous witch/possession plans don't jive with me. I'm a list-maker, an outliner, you see. While I certainly indulge in spontaneity from time to time, I prefer to know the hows and the whys behind what I'm doing. So if I'm a witch and Satan is all "you need to kill these people and get a virgin and a pregnant woman and then possess the pregnant woman and oh, here's a crystal..." then I'm gonna be like "Okay, hold on, to what end is all this happening? What is the baby going to do? And why do I have to use this voodoo doll to kill people, I mean, aren't I conflating things a bit? And what about--" and then Satan will just murder me and possess someone who doesn't ask so many damn questions.

Oh, are you wondering about "possess the pregnant woman"? Yeah, Jane gets possessed because she's played by Linda Blair and so of course she has to get possessed and wear a nightgown and have her lines dubbed. It's Linda Blair.

If you haven't guessed by now, let me spell it out. SPOILER: WITCHERY IS PRETTY BAD. That's right, I finally got a hold of a movie in one of my most beloved subgenres and it's a stinker. Be careful what you witch for, eh, kiddies? Ehhh hee hee hee (crone cackle)!

AND YET.

I feel my affection for this movie growing leaps and bounds by the minute.

It's truly weird, and I doubt that it's weird on purpose. It's full of bizarre touches that don't seem deliberate but rather that they're "normal" touches made by someone who has a really weird sense of normal. Have you ever had one of those days where you feel as if you're in a David Lynch movie for a few minutes? Where you look around and it seems like reality has been microwaved? Just briefly! Like everything seems off somehow? You're in the same grocery store you've been in a hundred times before, but for some reason the atmosphere is rife with the uncanny.

That's Witchery. It's the foot in the face that's meant to be sexy. It's the girl in the wheelchair whose father lies in bed smoking and reading The Godfather. It's everything Leslie says. It's everything Jane's little brother says. It's the Lady in Black appearing in a bottle of booze. It's the pop culture novelty of Linda Blair and David Hasselhoff in an '80s horror movie. It's demonic voices coming out of a Sesame Street cassette player.

As if that weren't enough, it's worth seeing just for the ending. I don't know how many times I've watched the last 45 seconds of this movie, but I find it an endless delight and it's kind of all I want to do with my life now. It is an ending that defines a life moment, like the JFK assassination or 9/11 or the death of Michael Jackson. Where were you when you saw the end of Witchery? Yeah, wasn't it great?

Next week!

Are you guys pumped for Goodnight Mommy or WHAT oh man.


I sure am, although who knows when I'll be able to see it. But I'm not reading any reviews or anything before that magical time because I want me and my excitement to remain unsullied. For those of you who live in cities where this will definitely hit theaters, Goodnight Mommy opens September 11. Finally a reason to remember that date!

Now is as good a time as any...

...to make a wee bit of an announcement-thing, sort of a "Hey, this is happening so your eyes–keep them peeled!" Although honestly, now that I've started typing this, I am worried this is like a "save the date" email, or maybe when someone releases a trailer teasing the release of a trailer and you think, "Why not just wait for the thing itself and tell me about it, you assholes!"

So basically, maybe saying this now makes me a bit of an asshole? And maybe my penchant for calling people who invite me to things "assholes" is the reason why I don't get invited places? Or do you think that's because they're jealous of me? They're probably jealous.

Anyway, it was mentioned in the comments a few days ago, so I figured I'd might as well mention it on the "front page", as it were. Extry, extry, read all about it: I've been commissioned to write a book–well, a monograph, really, you know, like those things published by the BFI? About movies? They're these cool pocket-size works, running, oh, about 125 pages or so. I've got a few, like one about Night of the Living Dead, and one about The Birds (written by Camille Paglia! Can you believe that shit), and–about Martyrs. Yes! I've been telling you for years that I'm going to write about it, and now here we are. And instead of a blog post, I am writing a shit ton about it! It's super exciting. Super. I am so excited. Martyrs. Fuck yeah!

That's the opening of the book: "Martyrs. Fuck yeah!" Pretty good, right? *brushes off shoulders like a cool person*

Just kidding, that's not how it starts. But Martyrs, though. Fuck yeah!

It'll be published through Electric Dreamhouse Press, a new cinema imprint from PS Publishing. The lineup is killer, I have to say, and I'm proud to be a part of it and I want to dig in to all of these, because would you just look at the movies and the writers? WOULD YOU JUST LOOK?

EYES WITHOUT A FACE – Michael Brooke
THEATRE OF BLOOD - John Llewellyn Probert
CARNIVAL OF SOULS – Stephen Bissette
MARTYRS – Stacie Ponder
DEATHLINE – Sean Hogan
DRESSED TO KILL – Mike Sutton
THE KARNSTEIN TRILOGY – Angela Slatter
THE TENANT – Kevin Jackson
SINISTER – Mark Morris
FRANKENSTEIN MUST BE DESTROYED – Dennis Cozzalio
LET’S SCARE JESSICA TO DEATH – Lynda E. Rucker
ISLAND OF LOST SOULS – Jonathan Rigby
THE UNHOLY THREE – Johnny Mains
THE FURY – Howard S. Berger & Kevin Marr
MARTIN – Jez Winship
TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME – Maura McHugh
BLOOD ON SATAN’S CLAW – Kimberly Lindbergs
ERASERHEAD – Anton Bitel
THE BRIDES OF DRACULA – Richard Harland Smith
SPIDER BABY – Stephen R. Bissette
SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE – Stacie Ponder
BLACK SUNDAY – Angela Slatter
THE DEVIL RIDES OUT – Maura McHugh
BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA – Mike Sutton
FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE – John Llewellyn Probert
THE HILLS HAVE EYES – Richard Harland Smith
VALERIE & HER WEEK OF WONDERS – Jez Winship

Kimberly Lindbergs on Blood on Satan's Claw? Gimme gimme! Richard Harland Smith on The Hills Have Eyes? Is this a dream? A whole volume dedicated to Let's Scare Jessica to Death? Did I die and go to the afterlife or what. And yes! I am also writing about Slumber Party Massacre down the line. I'm so psyched. 95 pages will be dedicated to the pizza scene, I promise.

So the imprint is in its infancy, but here is the gist. You can email and, like, get emails and interact with the Facebook page if Facebook is something you do.

ELECTRIC DREAMHOUSE PRESS, a new cinema imprint from PS Publishing and Editor Neil Snowdon (We Are The Martians: The Legacy Of Nigel Kneale), specialising in Cult and Genre Cinema. 

Kicking off with MIDNIGHT MOVIE MONOGRAPHS, an ongoing series of in-depth writings about the less reputable side of the cinephile universe, and bringing together genre authors, film-makers and some of the most interesting critical voices in the field, this is passionate, incisive, entertaining film writing of the highest order. If you have a taste for Cult and Genre movies, this is for YOU. 

Pre-Orders are not yet available (release dates TBA), but you can register your interest by emailing: editor@electricdreamhouse.co.uk or Liking the Facebook Page and leaving a comment.

This is exciting, right? You guys. You guys. YOU GUYS.

R.I.P. Wes Craven

One of the best things about the horror community is that it's...well, that it's a community. We squabble like siblings when we have different tastes, we bond over favorites. Sharing the tales of our introductions to the genre brings us closer together. We nerd out together at conventions and it comment sections. We're like a really big, incredibly strange family.

When someone involved in the horror world dies–be it a writer, a director, an actor, or even a fellow fan–it stings because we're losing one of our own. Even if we've never met the person, our mutual love of monsters and mayhem means they're near and dear to us.

Wes Craven, ever a champion of and for horror, has died at the age of 76, still too young. I'd wager there isn't a genre fan out there who hasn't been greatly affected by one or more of his films, for he left us with a legacy of some of the best movies that horror has to offer. We can take comfort in that, but it still stings. He had more to give us–more to give the world of cinema–but we've lost one of our own.

Thanks for all the nightmares, Mr. Craven.