Generally, I try to put some degree of thought into what goes here – taking a text as an opportunity to really consider something and put the brain to work. But sometimes, you don’t want to work. Sometimes, you’re not even looking for a scare. Sometimes, you just want to put on that movie you’ve seen countless times before and dwell in familiarity, draping it around you like a warm blanket. Towards that end, here is the first half of a list of ten of my favorite Comfort-Food-Horrors.
These are not necessarily my favorite movies (though some are), but they are all great pleasures to return to, and I tend to do just that. I think that when it comes to repeat viewings, it’s rarely the scares that bring me back. On a certain level, once a scare has worked, it is hard for it to do so again. But comedy works, atmosphere works, character works, and I think it’s those that rise to the surface in this case.
I’m listing these in no particular order (and I’ll list more in even less particular order later this week). I don’t think it makes sense to rank such unrelated films. Some are horror-comedies. Some are atmospheric. Each has its own merits and can offer succor in its own way.
The Lost Boys (1987)
Everything about this one pleases. The beaver. The soundtrack. Death by stereo. Using window cleaner as cologne, maggots in Chinese food, and possibly the very best final line of any film in history. Seriously, I love it. The boardwalk vibe is great – dark and lively, sexy and wild – and unlike any real boardwalk I’ve seen. My parents live in Ocean City, MD, which has a boardwalk – and it’s perfectly fine, but I think I’d enjoy the town more if it came with vampires with big 80s hair.
All of the characters draw you in. It’s easy to go along with Michael as he descends into this sensual underworld of blood and lust and dirt bikes. The story of Sam and the Frog brothers rallying to kill all vampires based on the lore found in a ‘very serious comic’ is one of the most satisfying kids-vs-monsters fights out there, and Nanook is a very good dog. And finally, who couldn’t feel for Lucy, the single mother trying to make a go of it after relocating with her two teenage boys, and just trying to have a bit of a life, a job, to even date?
While I like all of the acting, music, and film making on offer, I think the star of the show for me might be the writing. It walks such a fine line between a more adult, sensual, traditional vampire tale and a light, funny, boys-own-adventure. The comedy really lands, but so does the allure of the night. The twists and turns of the boys trying to suss out Max are very cleverly handled and really pay off in the final reel. And it knows what to hold back. Keifer Sutherland really shines as David, the leader of the young punk vampires, but he is wisely given rather little to say. Mostly he is a presence, a threat, a seduction, with only a few sardonic lines. For a film that features an oiled muscleman playing saxophone to a wild crowd on the beach at night, surrounded by pyrotechnics, it has a surprising degree of restraint.
Suspiria (2018)
This is one of my favorite discoveries of the last few years, and I’ve already mentioned it here. Luca Guadagnino creates such a strong sense of a time and a place, making the whole film so tactile. It has a physical presence, as does the dance work at its center, inspired by the choreography of such pioneers as Mary Wigman and Pina Bausch. It would probably be difficult for a remake to be more unlike its progenitor, and I think, in a way, that honors the original work more than any slavish imitation could, taking the original idea and going somewhere wholly new with it.
Throughout, there is a subtle but powerful air of attraction. Whether between the characters (Susie and Sara, Susie and Madame Blanc), the draw of a place (Berlin, and specifically the dance company, calling to Susie since childhood, the beauty of its artistic freedom and vibrancy in contrast to her conservative, religious upbringing), the inherent sensuality and physicality of dance and movement—bodies in space, touch, weight, breath, or ultimately the drive to power, with its dark potential to become fascistic, be it political, magical, or abusively interpersonal. The whole film is a mood.
Somehow it manages to be totally over the top and subtle and understated; oppressively gray and rainy and utterly vibrant; sexual without being explicit and cerebral without being tedious. It envelops, guides you, and calls on you to jump higher, to sigh.
Suspiria (1977)
While I loved how unlike the original the 2018 version is, that does not in any way lessen my love for Dario Argento’s dark fairy tale. This is a wholly different and no less satisfying sensory encounter. Light and color and sound wash over you. Art designed within an inch of its life, every still from this movie could be framed. Nature, architecture and interior design conspire to enrapture and overwhelm.
This was probably my introduction to Argento and Italian horror in general and it’s a hard one to top. It has it all. Style up the wazoo? Check. Elaborate, bloody, intense, artful kills? Check. Fantastic, driving, sometimes discordant music (from Goblin, one iteration of which I got to see play live in a small local club a few years ago)? Check. Weird dubbing of its international cast who were all speaking their lines in different languages and sometimes couldn’t understand each other, resulting in some interesting acting choices? Check. Udo Kier playing Doctor Exposition? Oh yeah. A cheesy bat on a string? You better believe it! A captivating female lead (Jessica Harper as Suzy) drawn into a web of conspiracy, witchcraft, deep red back lighting, and really gorgeous wallpaper? But of course.
This film is such a perfect choice if I’m having a stressful day and I just want to hide in fantasy, in sound and light, in something magical, and threatening, and beautiful. It will always have a warm place in my heart (which is happily, unlike in the film, not exposed, still beating, and about to be stabbed).
Cabin in the Woods (2011)
Another beloved horror-comedy that I have mentioned once before (same link as above), I clearly remember the experience of seeing this in the cinema. As the story began to come into focus and the Lovecraftian vibe – in confluence with its pointedly-critical-of-its-target-audience stance – coalesced, I just got so excited. At once, it delivered such fan service (in offering up its amalgamation of every horror concept they could think of) and undertook a trenchant critique of horror viewership (in casting us into the position of the great old ones, hungry for blood, desirous of suffering).
Cleverly, Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard’s film manages to really bite the hand that feeds it, suggesting that we, horror fans, are the real monsters, while housing it all inside a celebration of zombie redneck torture families, deadly puzzle boxes, mermen, ballerinas that are all teeth, murderous unicorns, and plot adjacent frontal nudity. The guys in the control room are just the film makers trying to keep the customer satisfied. I think it’s a really bold choice and it’s rich in its irony. It feels made with love, but not without some ambivalence, which makes the whole thing that much more effective.
At the end of the day, as a kind of comfort food, it’s the fan favorite jubilee of horrors and fun play with genre tropes that brings me back again, but that other undercurrent always adds a soupçon of critical thought that I savor.
The Wicker Man (1973)
It should come as no surprise that if I am to list favorite films to return to and be comforted by, I’m probably going to end up writing about films that I’ve already discussed in some form. This is no exception. A favorite film in any genre, I probably watch The Wicker Man at least once a year and I listen to the soundtrack with far more frequency.
I mean, Summerisle just seems like such a great place to live (at least in theory—in reality, I’m not actually that folksy). I can always come back to its cozy charms, even if I have to eat tinned fruit. The life of the community, so vibrant in the public house – singing about the landlord’s daughter, in front of the schoolhouse – erecting the phallic Maypole, nakedly jumping over a bonfire on the way to the Lord’s manor, or leading a patronizing jerk from the mainland on a merry chase before burning him alive in a sacrificial pyre, just comes across as warm, fulfilling – basically good.
It is a fantasy, I’m sure (I am fairly allergic to religiosity and probably wouldn’t really fit in). But such an enticing one. And such a cheap vacation – pop it on and instantly sink into the comfort of being on a small prop-plane, surrounded by the drone of bagpipes. I suppose that, put that way, it doesn’t exactly sound comfortable, but there we go…
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And that’s already a long post, so let’s save the next (and final?) five for later in the week. More to come… stay comfy and cozy out there.