Horrors of Fandom

So, since starting this blog, I’ve had to become a bit more active on social media. I don’t know any other way to promote the writing I’m doing here.  But now I’m a member of at least ten different horror groups, so that I can post about different blog entries in groups that seem specifically open to the content of the entries in question. And I will say that, while I appreciate some of the conversations that happen there, the space of fandom is…difficult…to say the least.

It’s strange how the primary activity of many fans seems to be hating things.

Whether it’s fans hating ‘Halloween Kills’ because it betrays the legacy of its characters and loses the thread of its story, the ‘Hellraiser’ reboot because it will feature a trans actress as the lead Cenobite (never named in the source material, but popularly known as Pinhead), or the 2019 ‘Child’s Play’ reboot because the studio ripped the property away from series creator, Don Mancini (who is running a ‘Child’s Play’ TV series currently), there’s a lot of anger out there.

Just as with everything else in modern life, there are endless cycles of outrage.  Someone is ticked off because Rob Zombie has unsurprisingly cast his wife in his upcoming ‘Munsters’ film (big shock – she’s in pretty much all of his movies).  Someone else is enraged that this other person was angry about it.  Yet another person chimes in, attacking the second poster personally, and we’re off to the races. Before you know it, we’re hundreds of comments deep into a sea of vitriol and aggression, just as with any political discussion.

Putting aside the specific merits, or lack thereof, of people’s complaints (which I can sometimes understand and which sometimes, as is the case with ‘Hellraiser,’ I find obtuse, grating, and rooted in the same kind of reactionary mindset that believes that rebooting ‘Ghostbusters’ with an all female cast could somehow destroy their childhood; ‘Pinhead’ has been recast before, most of the sequels have been weak at best, doing more to tarnish the legacy of the series than any casting choice ever could, and in the novelette on which it’s based, the lead Cenobite is described as neither male or female, but with a high, girlish voice, so this casting seems pretty appropriate), I do wonder why this trend has become so prominent.

Is it the inherent toxicity of social media, echoing and amplifying any negative sentiment to the nth degree? Is it just a natural outgrowth of the process of really coming to know something and therefore, having more fully developed critical reactions? Is it an issue of human beings simply being entitled and demanding, feeling some sense of ownership over things they love and assuming that film makers owe them for their allegiance? Does this just happen because we love something so much that we can’t accept any changes to it (for instance, would people have gotten angry about the 2019 ‘Black Christmas’ if it had had a different name – it was a completely different story and if they’d removed a couple direct nods to the original, it could have stood on its own legs; some trollish types could still object to its heart on its sleeve social consciousness, but they probably wouldn’t have paid it so much attention)? And is this all really a problem, or is it just a natural, if sometimes depressing, aspect of caring about something?

I mean, if we want to believe that good art in general, good film (more specifically), and good horror (most precisely) can be of value, can somehow do good, justifying the tremendous amount of time, energy, creativity, talent, and money that goes into producing it (and I do want to believe that), we must accept the inverse: bad art/film/horror is of negative value, can do harm, wastes vital time, creativity, care, and resources, and must, therefore, be stopped at all costs.

And I can’t say I’ve never gotten worked up over something.  Back in the early-mid 2000s, when Horror was on a big reboot kick, I was personally offended at the idea of Michael Bay producing an expensive, slick remake of ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.’ How dare a film studio buy the rights to some property, with the blessings of its original creator, and try to make more money off of it? But seriously, I hated it at the time.  Same deal with the pretty popular Zack Snyder ‘Dawn of the Dead’ remake.  I remember thinking that this blatant cash grab, this expensive, action packed audience pleaser really missed the point of the original film, flying in the face of its critique of modern consumerism.

Maybe I was right on both counts. Maybe I was over-reacting to an innate feature of show business – this is a business and in both cases, as with other remakes I may have rolled my eyes at, there was an audience for the film. Neither was made for me, and I probably didn’t have any right to expect otherwise. Panned at its release, the 2003 ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre” has since been reappraised by many fans and is held in better esteem. And the 2004 ‘Dawn of the Dead’ was a hit which, along with ‘28 Days Later’ from two years earlier, helped kick off a zombie renaissance.  I have not revisited either film since first viewing, but maybe if I did, with some distance, I could find things to enjoy in them both. Or I could find myself holding a grudge; I don’t know.

These days, I find myself more sanguine in the face of such things.  There is so much to see, so much to catch up on, that it feels like a waste of my very limited energy to focus on things that don’t appeal to me.  I’m trying on this blog to only write about films that I think are actually worth writing about. I think that’s a fair rule. I’m not a journalist. I don’t have some sort of responsibility to take in every new horror film on offer and give an objective adjudication of its value.  I can choose to discuss the works that actually interest me.  I can devote my efforts to analyzing only pieces that excite my critical mind.

Of course, I may eventually break this self-imposed restriction. I may get so offended at the aesthetic or social messaging crimes of some flick that I just have to come here to vent my spleen. I may see or read something wherein a blistering critique feels called for, feels like the most interesting choice. There are things, of course, that need criticizing. The world is generally, not great…

But, for now, let’s keep it positive. On my horror blog. Yup.

The Blurb: The Final Chapter

The Hunt (2020)

The political drama of this film’s release somewhat overshadowed the political drama inherent in the film itself.  It was supposed to have been released in the fall of 2019, but when conservative media, not to mention Trump, caught wind of the premise, there was a huge manufactured outcry which got the film shelved indefinitely.  It was only when Covid struck and the cinemas closed that Blumhouse released it straight to VOD, skipping the theatres and skirting the drama.

So, why so much drama?  The premise is that there’s a group of well-heeled, pretentious, hypocritically self-righteous, Hollywood liberal stereotypes who kidnap a group of closed-minded, mean-spirited, red-state conservative stereotypes, bring them to some remote location and hunt them for sport.  It had seemed obvious back in ’19 that the outrage was pretty stupid as the liberals were the bad guys (or at least the only ones directly capturing and murdering people), but to be fair, the red hats aren’t presented in a terribly good light either.

One person, Betty Gilpin’s (of Glow) Crystal, stands out as not being a flat cultural stereotype and that’s why she’s the protagonist.  She was taken by accident, mistaken for a different southerner whose mean tweets had set the whole story in motion.  She’s some kind of combat veteran, and while she doesn’t seem to identify much with the ugly socio-political views of the group she’s been placed in, she also doesn’t identify with being hunted by a bunch of rich morons either. So, she kills everyone. Everyone. It’s pretty great.

The politics is facile, peddling an obvious kind of ‘plague o’ both your houses’ equivalence, but at the same time, there are some easy targets on both sides to make fun of, at least socially.  But, it must be said that this is a really fun movie. Gilpin is just a pleasure, start to finish. The violence is enjoyably extreme. Some comedy lands. There is at least one stand out knife fight.  I only felt that, given its brand of politically simple, everyone is terrible, satirical perspective, it was actually too well produced. I felt that this kind of crude making-fun-of-everybody would just work better as a Troma production (I mean, it directly reminds me of ‘Troma’s War’). Some messages are benefited by less money somehow.

But I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.

The Blurb Goes to Hell

The Devil Rides Out (1968)

A classic Hammer Horror directed by Terrence Fisher (who must have done like 20 films for Hammer), this is a great, melodramatic, occult adventure full of derring-do, mystery, ropy special effects, and portentous utterances filled with rich, well rounded vowels.

Christopher Lee plays a proper aristocratic fellow who, along with a buddy, goes to visit a mutual friend only to discover that he’s fallen in with the wrong crowd—Satanists!  There’s all sorts of dark magic: summonings, giant spiders, possession, evil eyes looking out of mirrors to hypnotize and dominate, big wild orgiastic rituals, and a goat headed devil making an appearance to his devoted followers before Lee disrupts the whole affair. 

There are many twists and turns to the plot, but by the end, both Lee’s friend and a young woman who had been promised as The Devil’s Bride (The original UK title of the film) have been saved from their dark fates, and along the way is a rip-roaring, if occasionally rather stately, tale.

I never really got into the Hammer films, but I can see the appeal.  You’ve got to be in the right mood (if you’re not, they can be too staid and, at worst, kind of dull), and if you are, they can be like a warm blanket and a cup of tea on a rainy day.  This film didn’t have any real scares to speak of, but there were twists and turns and a grand sense of the battle between dark and light, all in a tidy little aristocratically British package. A memorably mild pleasure.

The Revenge of the Blurb

Well, Halloween’s almost here, and I’m currently racing towards the finish line for a Halloween show for the Cabaret I work with (more on that next week, once I’ve got some good pictures). Hopefully, we’ll manage to perform on Saturday before all the theatres get shut down again as the current Covid situation in my country is…not great.   But I wanted to at least share some thoughts with all of you (if there’s anybody out there…) on a few recent first time watches.  Yup, more blurbs.

The Night Evelyn Came out of the Grave (1971)

This did not disappoint.  Stylish, weird, psycho-sexual, outlandishly plotted and a bit too evenly paced, this holds up as one of the more enjoyable gialli I’ve seen so far (though I’m no expert in that department).

Alan is some kind of aristocrat who, having discovered that his beautiful red-haired bride had been cheating on him, seems to have killed her and now deals with his ongoing grief by luring ginger sex workers back to his decrepit castle/swinging mod styled pad where he tortures and murders them.  One woman, Susan, we see undergo this ordeal and then escape into the night.

It seems that Alan’s therapeutic pastime is an open secret among his friends and employees, many of whom are concerned for him and the fact that he hasn’t been able to move on following the mysterious death of his wife. One of these, his uncle George, insists that he find a new wife and make a fresh start.  So he does, marrying a blonde woman he meets at a party, Gladys.  Then the spooky stuff starts and it seems that Gladys is being haunted by the dead wife, Evelyn.  Actually, it’s been a series of double crossing plots by various combinations of George, Gladys, Susan, and Alan.  In the end, all but Alan have been betrayed and murdered and he goes free.

The plot was actually surprising and fun. The film looked and sounded cool. And there was even a successfully chilling horror element in the way that power and wealth cause the world to turn a blind eye to this monster. I mean, the upper crust really doesn’t care how many prostitutes he kidnaps, tortures, and murders. They just want him to be happy and get over the death of his wife.  I don’t know how intentional the social critique is, but it plays.