Dog Soldiers on Blu-Ray

One of my favorite, though little known outside horror fan circles, werewolf movies is coming out tomorrow (May 5th) on Blu-Ray disc. Dog Soldiers, by the same director who did the claustrophobic mayhem of The Descent and the derivative but fun Doomsday, is an early Neil Marshall film full of surprises and scares. Right up front, it's gory (but not in the same vein [no pun intended] of torture porn or the recent 70's remakes). But, it does successfully channel the same tense atmosphere of such great films like Romero's Night of the Living Dead and Hawks' Rio Bravo--just through the different, but very kinetic werewolf genre. And, there's something to be said for such monster films that are situated in the cold bleak exteriors of the Scottish highlands. No worries if you don't have Blu-ray--the standard definition DVD version is more than enough to keep you pinned down (under the covers) out of fright ;-).

Happy Halloween

As has been my practice for the month of October, I spin up some of my horror collection in the old DVD player. Of course, she-who-must-be-obeyed frowns upon me including the kids during this time of excess. But, no matter. It's been a tradition of mine going back many years, and started before I married--and if she read this, that'll be another point of discussion (duck!).

The John Carpenter classic, pictured here, is a favorite--with good reason. Though I didn't play it this year, this movie became the archetype for the slasher genre. Unfortunately, while this film was original for a low-budget horror piece and had a very creative director, the genre only had limited quantities of quality in story-lines and structure. And, even this one was somewhat derivative from the earlier 1974 movie by the late Bob Clark (of , A Christmas Story fame, another annual treat), Black Christmas. Both of these great films, compared to what came later, displayed little blood and gore, but plenty for the viewer's imagination and tension.

Okay, on to this year's October horror-fest of movies. The 1981 An American Werewolf in London is first on the list. At only 97 minutes, director John Landis created one of the best werewolf films, ever. Effectively moody, and with great bits of American and British humor thrown about, it still holds up well in story, even after a good many years. The one thing about this particular horror genre, that goes back to the original, The Werewolf, is its tragic, sad nature. And, Landis, though remembered for a lot of excesses in his films, recognized this fact when he brought this to the screen. If you saw this in the theater (as I once did), many were more than a little stunned by its final outcome (especially since it's so easy to care for those plucky Yanks). The other wonderful thing about this film is its great soundtrack. Using many of the older, moon-themed songs, this really connected with the pop culture in a way seldom done before. If you've seen this movie, you know what I write about when you recall the use of CCR's Bad Moon Rising as the pre-cursor to Rick Baker's now famous transformation sequence of actor David Naughton. The year 1981 had another solid entertaining werewolf movie, The Howling. But, it is this one that I remember more dearly.

Next, I did try to have one for the family movie night, the early Tim Burton favorite, Beetlejuice. Unfortunately, the kids couldn't hang through to the end. I thought that since the kids loved The Nightmare Before Christmas, that they'd enjoy this one. They just about went screaming out of the room. Damn... Dad strikes out, again (his wife, chided). Anyway, it's one of my favorites, with one of my favorite actresses, Geena Davis (who I happened to see a couple of weeks ago at my daughter's school carnival / book festival). And, yes, she's tall. But, the others here, namely Michael Keaton as the bio-exorcist, are a joy to watch. Burton's imagination and unique production values make him something special. Not all of his movies work, but few look anywhere close to them in style and design. Finally, I got out his other great work, Sleepy Hollow. Depp and company really shined on this Burton production. Though not truly Halloween-themed, it has shown itself to be one of the better ones for this time of year. Some of the splendid, haunting visuals here, not counting the beheadings (of course), make some in the industry truly jealous. Many sets/scenes are eerily beautiful. That, and any movie that has the great Christopher Lee and the uncredited Christopher Walken (as the Horseman) in the same movie is going to make it as one of my all-time scary fun favorites just on principle, alone.

Of Horror and Empathy

About a couple of weeks ago, the wonderful and eclectic folk at the Criterion Collection re-released Pasolini's Salo (120 Days of Sodom). If that title doesn't ring a bell, it was the last, highly controversial work of that Italian artist, intellectual, filmmaker and writer. Based on a work of torture/degradation by the Marquis de Sade, it is said that it was Pasolini's masterwork examining Fascism (and Capitalism) in general, and Italy during World War II in particular. I've heard that many college film courses play and examine this work--and that it's been described as nauseating, gory, sick, and nothing less than pornographic. I've always wanted to see the film that some viewers describe this way only because many others consider it a masterpiece. The question is, why haven't I?

My wife, who knows my love of film (and books), and the many DVDs that we house, would just laugh at this. Why? She knows that I've watched a great many movies, that to her, are disturbing. I'm sure that she bases this on a good bit in the collection (books, too) that are in the horror category. Yes, I admit, that for many years since my teens I've read, listened, or watched those works  that go bump in the night (along with other genres). I remember (fondly) when my relatives warned me to not to go and see The Exorcist when it first hit the theaters. Of course, for my brother (considered the tougher one of us), they didn't worry or say anything to him about it. The end result? He went to see it, and slept with the lights on in his room for the next three months, afterwards. Me? I wanted to read the William Peter Blatty book that it was based upon.

But, interestingly, not all horror works attract my attention. The trend of gore, perhaps started in the low budget, exploitive works of the sixties & seventies, in the horror category is a clue, here. Am I frightened or repulsed by it? If it's something inherent or logical in a good story, the answer is no. Alien, with it's (in)famous chest burster scene, is one of my all-time favorites. Same goes for John Carpenter's The Thing, where its extraordinary make-up and grisly effects added to the story's paranoia and dread (to a film that was far ahead of its time). I could name many others that exploited gore to effective end. So, on that end of the scale, that aspect should not stop me in taking in Pasolini's midnight movie classic.

I think, secretly mind you, it's related to that imperceptible line that some directors, writers, or artists push (or cross) to either make some revealing point (which is defensible), or to cross it (and turnaround to scratch it completely off) just because they can do it to the audience (which is much less defensible). The horror sub-genre some later nicknamed torture porn is just an example of this. I think Clive Barker really made an early (eighties) mark in this, way before critics coined the term (for the later examples of Eli Roth, Takashi Miike, Rob Zombie, etc.), with his Hellraiser film (based upon the his book, The Hellbound Heart). He pushed (successfully) that line. Though, it seems some of the recent films seem overly abusive just for sadism's (the term derived from the Marquis' surname, mind you) sake. I guess I like to watch film instead of cringing at the screen or taking it in through my stretched fingers (while I hold my hand over my face).

The lack of empathy is what I fear, I guess. That and the images that get etched into one's minds--for days, weeks, or always--after the viewer takes it in. And, I don't just hold filmmakers up to examination, here--this is warning to those even thinking of picking up Edward Lee's work (The Bighead is one I'll stay far away from). Perhaps, I'm getting soft in my old age. Or, more empathetic since I became a parent in the mid-nineties. Anyway, one of these days I'll take in that Pasolini title (... or those unopened DVDs like Inside, City of the Living Dead, and Imprint that some of my jaded co-horts have prodded me to watch). But, I wouldn't hold my breath...