Tuesday, 9 January 2018

From the Pages of Paperbacks from Hell: Eat Them Alive



Eat Them Alive
Author: Pierce Nace, Year: 1977

Eat Them Alive, written by Pierce Nace (a supposed pen name), is a pretty bad book. Its basic plot is intriguing enough for fans of the lurid, just like me: A quartet of men rob and murder an old man for his stashed loot. One of them tries to abscond with the cash, and the others cut off his dick. Years later he plots revenge using a horde of human-sized, flesh-eating praying mantises. Really.

As told here with all the panache of a child pulling wings from a fly, the story is repetitive and monotonous, as our anti-hero, Dyke Mellis, trains the giant insects to not eat him for a good three-quarters of the book’s 160 pages. Finally, when the long-awaited revenge commences, we’re ready for the book to be over. Part of the problem with the way the story is told is that it really feels like the author is trying to work out some of "his" (there is speculation that Nace may actually be a woman) issues and twisted aggression here. Eventually, that becomes about as interesting as listening to someone go over and over and over their breakup with someone they've dated for only three weeks; an obsession no one else shares. 

Impossible not to recommend for the freak show factor alone, however, this grotesque revolving door of bugs eating South American natives, bugs eating thieves, revolts its readers, then desensitizes them to not only its gore and cruelty, but to its bad writing. Once you've read it, you'll feel like you're a member of a very special club; one whose members have seen things best left unseen. 

Friday, 5 January 2018

From the Pages of Paperbacks from Hell: Smart as the Devil




Smart as the Devil
Author: Felice Picano, Year: 1975

The first of the novels I read as a result of seeing it featured in Paperbacks from Hell (publisher info here
) by Grady Hendrix with Will Errickson. Smart as the Devil tells the story of a school board psychologist who becomes obsessed, personally and professionally, with a pre-teenaged boy who may or may not be possessed off and on by a raunchy demon. It’s an entertaining read that keeps you guessing about its possession angle, winding up in a satisfying, though slightly heavy handed, conclusion. The "black maid" character, however, it must be said, gets a little, um... "tired" when reading Smart as the Devil 40 years after she was originally written here. 

Other similar novels by author Felice Picano include Eyes and The Mesmerist. He has also written widely in Gay Lit, as well as co-authoring The Joy of Gay Sex (3rd Edition), memoirs, poetry, and a number of stage and screenplays.


Tuesday, 12 December 2017

Paperbacks from Hell: The Twisted History of ‘70s and ‘80s Horror Fiction


Slime, The Mime, Toy Cemetery...

Released in September of this year, Grady Hendrix’s Paperbacks from Hell: The Twisted History of ‘70s and ‘80s Horror Fiction (with Will Errikson) not only brought back a lot of memories and introduced me to some new (old) must-reads, but it also sheds a light on an essential chapter of modern horror history. Working from the premise that a trilogy of horror novels – Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin, The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty, and The Other by Thomas Tryon – kicked started a run on pulp horror fiction, this book is probably the last word on the topic.

Paperbacks, wisely, leaves the reader to engage with his or her own predilections when it comes to the titles under discussion, not necessarily delving into what could be called mainstream ideals of quality. There's a certain understanding that the books included here operate on their own plain when it comes to such things. Paperbacks also does an outstanding job of juggling information about the writers, the trends, and the artists behind these works, while at the same time providing plot descriptions (which amounts to giving recommendations – if you like the description, why not try the novel?) and a wealth of images that nudges this book into art book territory.

The author of Horrorstör and My Best Friend's Exorcism, Hendrix's enthusiasm for the subject is catching. Since reading this book, I’ve read five of the novels found within its pages, with a pile more accumulating on my nightstand. Whether you pick up this book for nostalgia, information, or out of blind curiosity, it’s a sure bet to become a mainstay of the horror library canon.

Thursday, 7 December 2017

More Favourite Horror Flicks, Alphabetically: Funny Games


Funny Games
Dir: Michael Haneke. Cast: Susanne Lothar, Ulrich Mühe, Arno Frisch, Frank Giering & Stefan Clapczynski. 1997

In writing about each of the flicks that I’ve included in More Favourite Horror Flicks, I came to a dead stop when I reached Funny Games. If you look at the date of my last post in this series – September 20, 2016 – you’ll get an idea of just how difficult I find writing about this film. The truth is, I just didn’t want to. Funny Games is not a pleasant film, nor is it a fun one. It is, however I think, an outstanding one.

A difficult watch, Funny Games tells the story of a family – wife, husband, son – that is terrorized by a couple of arrogant and psychotic youth. Things you don’t want to happen do happen. The fourth wall is broken to implicate the viewer in the mayhem. It’s engrossing, to be sure, but it’s also deflating. And it’s entirely engrossing.

One of the great strengths of Funny Games (I’ve not seen Haneke’s American remake with Naomi Watts and Tim Roth – I don’t see the point) is that you react to it. Strongly. My experience of it is that I became so engaged that I felt like what was happening on screen was happening to me, to people I cared about. It’s a weird and unpleasant immersion that is so strong that it rises above the despair it presents and emerges as a work of truly exceptional moviemaking.  

 Whew! It feels great to finally get that done.

Wednesday, 19 July 2017

Goodbye, Uncle George



I didn’t expect George Romero to die this past weekend. In fact, he’d just announced a new movie, Road of the Dead, another zombie movie in a long line of zombie movies, a sub-genre he’d contemporized. At least the first two of his zombie movies – Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead – are classics, with many horror fans adding Romero’s third zombie flick, Day of the Dead, to that list, and with three more coming later in his career. In between Night and Dawn, he made my favourite of all his films – Martin, an updating of the vampire mythos that brings both the supernatural and the psychosexual into play. My take on Martin is that it’s a movie about being forced into becoming what someone assumes you are. In hindsight, I think this is something that happened to Romero as a filmmaker.

When Road was announced, I joked with someone on Facebook about the fact that Romero was making yet another zombie movie, and that perhaps it should be called Dead Bored. It wasn't that I thought Road would be bad, it was that I felt zombie movies were the only kind of movie for which he could get financing. In a sense, Romero’s later zombie films, enjoyable as they are, felt like he was “keeping his oar in” in terms of his need to keep making movies until he was able to make a different kind of film, horror or otherwise.   

By all reports, Romero was a filmmaker who wasn’t interested in the business side of filmmaking, disliked it even. What he was interested in was making movies. It was just this sort of attitude that brought Night of the Living Dead into being in 1968, a movie filled with metaphors, even if they maybe came from Romero’s subconscious. Low budget, and created by a group of enthusiastic newcomers who just wanted to make a movie, Night became a phenomena, and regardless of what was planned or unplanned thematically, their movie most definitely reflected the zeitgeist of the times.

In the outpouring of public grief and appreciation within the horror community following Romero’s death, one thought that has been expressed over and over again is the fact that Romero pretty much influenced anyone who has tried to make a low budget movie since 1968. I believe this sentiment to be true. The spirit that brought Night of the Living Dead into existence seems to propel filmmakers across the globe, and in that sense, Romero will be with us for a long time to come. I like to think that Romero’s 1981 film Knightriders is the most autobiographical of all his work, and that it reflects just this spirit of a small band of renegades against a modern world rapidly losing its soul.

Romero seemed a big, loveable teddy bear, and this is born out by those who knew him. I don’t know whether or not he was aware of this, but he was loved in the horror community. It was impossible not to think of him as our favourite uncle. Through his movies, he gave us so much. Through his honest appreciation of his fans, he became in a sense, one of us.

The fact of Romero’s death was a shock. The fact that it was the result of lung cancer was not; Romero was a longtime heavy smoker. His death, however, is a reminder of his most famous metaphor in a filmography filled with great metaphors. Romero gave us the slow, shambling zombie. The ones who gathered en masse and attacked. They didn’t run, unlike their new millennium counterparts. They were simply relentless. That is what made them truly frightening. It was their inevitability, like death itself. Romero’s zombies may be slow, but sooner or later they WILL get you. This past weekend, the inevitable caught up with one of my favourite filmmakers.

Goodbye, Uncle George. You will be missed. I hope the zombies are treating their king well.

Filmography as Director:
Night of the Living Dead
There’s Always Vanilla
Season of the Witch
The Crazies
Martin
Dawn of the Dead
Knightriders
Creepshow
Day of the Dead
Monkey Shines
Two Evil Eyes (with Dario Argento)
The Dark Half
Bruiser
Land of the Dead
Diary of the Dead
Survival of the Dead

Tuesday, 20 September 2016

More Favourite Horror Flicks, Alphabetically: Frightmare


Frightmare
Dir: Pete Walker. Starring: Deborah Fairfax, Sheila Keith, Rupert Davies, Kim Butcher & Paul Greenwood. 1974

Outside of the House of Hammer, director Pete Walker (along with frequent collaborator / screenwriter David McGillivary) created some of the most interesting British horror films of the 1970's - House of Whipcord, House of Mortal Sin and Frightmare, among others. Much of their best work, intentionally or unintentionally, attacked institutions if all sorts, with Frightmare, which takes an uncharitable look at the family, being my favourite. 

To explain the plot of Frightmare in any depth is to damage a first-time viewing. Suffice it to say that Deborah Fairfax plays Jackie, a young woman who goes to outrageous lengths to keep her troubled family functioning as best she can. Sheila Keith, a terrific screen presence who appeared in many of Walker's films, is outstanding here as Dorothy Yates, the matriarch of the family. 

What Frightmare has to say about family, particularly in its last scene, may not be cheery, but it does reflect a grotesquely heightened version of what for far too many is reality. 

Tuesday, 12 July 2016

More Favourite Horror Flicks, Alphabetically: Les Diaboliques


Les Diaboliques
Dir: Henri-Georges Clouzot. Starring: Simone Signoret, Véra Clouzot, Paul Meurisse & Charles Vanel. 1955  

Based on the novel She Who Was No More by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, also writers of the source novel for Hitchcock's classic Vertigo (1958), Les Diaboliques feels very adult for its time, especially due to the nature of the central relationships at its core. In Les Diaboliques, two women, one the owner of a private boys school who is married to an abusive spouse, the other a teacher who carries on a very public affair with him, conspire to murder the abuser. Once they do, only a third of the way into the film, the real plot begins. Contemporary audiences may see the ending coming, but the way the story is told is compelling, suspenseful, and set the blueprint for many horror and suspense films to follow in its wake. Clouzot, a master of suspense in his own right, had already proven himself with Le Corbeau (1943) and the essential Wages of Fear (1954).