There has never been a truly great adaptation of Salem's Lot. King's second published novel holds a very special place in my heart. I find it one of his best efforts, lacking the cocaine-fueled bloat of later works and sticking the landing where most of
In cinema, space travel is one of the best ways to expose the folly of man. From Pazuzu issuing premonitions of death, to distress signals ending with a greased up dick monster pushing your shit in, the void beyond our skies is a place to explore if you seek a
There's been a recent flurry of discourse about The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Specifically the direction of its next iteration, with musings on how you can modernize the slaughterhouse. There will always be discourse about it, which speaks to the inherent power of Tobe Hooper's Southern-fried
Every craft has its language, from medicine to magic. Knowledge gives that language context, which infuses it with power. In INFERNO, our protagonists live outside that knowledge. They enter blind into a world of black sorcery, unprepared for the violence of its adepts. That's the true the secret
She stares into the empty sockets, and watches as out of the twin voids something begins to coalesce. Flames licking upwards, infernal and endless where once were the gateways to the soul. There's a history to be told beyond those scorching fingers and she sees it resurrected, tinged
In Mandy, our doomed lovers share a pre-tragedy dinner of microwavable meals while taking in a very special piece of cinema. Mandy and Red sit rapt as a snaggle toothed, jumpsuit-clad creature tears open abdomens and uses a laser pistol to blow away anyone crossing its path. I
In 1973 a movie was released about a demon living within the body of a young girl. Its arrival was a nuclear explosion in the world of cinema, creating urban legends, upending genre expectations and solidifying its place as the last word on possession horror. Cathy's Curse is
"The World is dead. It raped itself...But I'll purify it with blood!" -George Eastman with Manic Panic highlights, wearing homoerotic Stormtrooper armor. When a youthful Dr. Graves first discovered Max-sploitation existed, I had what amounted to a mini-stroke. A whole slew of movies
FACES OF DEATH transcended its physical form. It grew like a starving void, spreading like an eldritch cancer. It bulged against the film reels within the VHS and bloomed violently out of the plastic housing. The metastasis could not be stopped by the barrier of its slipcase with the drawing
If your movie has Ol' Scratch in the title, I better see him make an appearance. Satan's Storybook has an Aldi-brand Lou Cypher with shag carpet legs. The Devil's Rain has Borgnine's titanic eyebrows perfectly channeling the man downstairs. Asylum Of Satan
It's surreal watching a seventies movie in high definition. I'm sure this has been talked about before, and using far more pretentious language, but it's an unmooring experience. During the wedding scene in The Bride (Or Last House on Massacre Street if yer'
Frank Zito is 1980 New York made flesh. He is the blinding lights of the porno theaters, beaming photons that promise lust across slush-slick sidewalks. He is the steam from a manhole cover obscuring a figure that watches you, as you fumble for your keys in the doorway. He