Matinee Monsters and Summer Memories

When I was a child, growing up in northeast Florida, summers were a time for the three things that were instrumental in making the Unimonster into the man he is today.  One was the days spent at the nearby Jacksonville Beach, swimming, playing, and soaking up the sun.  These days were the hallmark of my summers—until one July when I watched the movie that would forever end my joy in going into the ocean, JAWS.

The second was summer nights spent at the Drive-In, smuggled in hidden in the trunk of a car, then unceremoniously turned loose by an older sister who was perfectly content to corrupt the fragile young minds of myself, my younger brother, and our cousin—as long as we left her alone for the four or five hours the features ran.  She would take us to see whatever movie we requested, regardless of rating or age-appropriateness.  It was under her charge that we first saw movies as diverse—and inappropriate—as NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, BLOOD FEAST, THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE … and BARBED WIRE DOLLS.  It was in those long-ago nights that my love of, and appreciation for, that peculiar form of cinema known as the Drive-In movie was born … a love that still remains strong to this day.

The third formative experience of my childhood summers was the “Kiddie Show.”  A combination of movie-going experience and day camp, mothers desperate for a brief respite from bored, full-of-energy children would load us up by the car-full, hauling us to the Regency Square Twin Theater.  Every Wednesday, cars would line-up to disgorge hordes of screaming, running children, as anxious for something to do as their harried mothers were for them to do it.  It resembled the landings on the Normandy beaches, only not so well organized.  It didn’t matter to us what the feature film would be that day.  The feature changed every week, but the ritual leading up to it never did.

It began with the arrival of Monday morning’s paper.  We’d rush to grab the section containing the movie ads, for it contained the all-important coupon needed to get in for half price—25¢.  Paying 50¢ for a day’s worth of entertainment might sound like a real bargain for moviegoers inured to $10 tickets for one movie.  But in 1974, a quarter was real money—I could buy a comic book for less than that—and parents, especially mine, were more frugal and less indulgent than today’s variety.  There would be a second chance at the coupon in Tuesday’s paper—miss that one, and it meant a ten-minute lecture from my dad on how hard he’d had to work to get two quarters when he was my age.  There was usually a smart-alecky comment on the tip of my tongue during these lectures—my personal favorite involved the lack of horses to be shod in our neighborhood—but I had too much sense to do more than look contrite and nod my head.

Coupon or not, Wednesday morning would find us (usually my brother Mark, our cousin Andy, and myself) lined up with a couple hundred of our compatriots, waiting to be let in to the theater.  As soon as we hit the lobby, we’d get a box of popcorn and a coke, included with the admission.  We would be quickly herded into the auditorium, the sound of hundreds of kids talking, laughing, and shouting rising to a deafening pitch.  The noise would continue unabated until the lights went down and the show began.

First would come the cartoons—often Woody Woodpecker; sometimes Tom & Jerry or Droopy Dog.  Seldom would we get the first-class Warner Brothers cartoons, even though Bugs Bunny was featured on the newspaper coupons.  Two or three cartoons would easily kill a half-hour, and all were enjoyable.

Next would come something that you had to be a part of to remember.  It was an audience participation short subject, a series produced in the early 1930s by Andrew L. Stone entitled “Race Night.”  Each episode featured a number of racers comically competing in a variety of races—boats, airplanes, bicycles—and each member of the audience would have a numbered ticket that corresponded to one of the numbered racers … sort of like the Keystone Kops meets Wacky Races.  These were much more fun than they sound, and there was always the chance that your racer would win.  One fine day mine actually did, and those of us lucky enough to be holding his number walked away with a transistor radio—AM only.  I remember it worked almost to the end of that night, doubtless a record for the brand.

The preliminaries out of the way, we’d get down to the feature presentation.  Though earlier I said that what the feature film might be on any given Wednesday was unimportant, that’s not completely true.  We would’ve shown up regardless of what was on the marquee, that’s true enough.  But there was definitely a wide gulf between what we considered a “good” movie and what wasn’t.

The lowest point on the totem pole (at least in the Unimonster’s opinion), below even the worst that K. Gordon Murray could import, was the series of Pippi Longstocking movies.  Four films had been pieced together from the 1969 Swedish television series based on the Astrid Lindgren books, dubbed into English, and imported for the American market.  While I can’t speak for every kid who attended those shows, among my friends and I, the Pippi Longstocking movies were universally detested.  First, and yes, I know that now it would be considered politically incorrect and sexist to feel this way, but young boys in the early 1970s simply were not going to accept a girl heroine able to lift a horse over her head.  Second, even were we ready to accept such a character, the plain truth of the matter was that these movies were bad—I mean Coleman Francis-bad.  And third, we knew what we wanted in a movie—and it wasn’t Pippi!

A (very) small step up were the various films imported by producer K. Gordon Murray [for more on this fascinating filmmaker, please read Santa Claus vs. Santa Claus Conquers the Martians: the Legacy of K. Gordon Murray, 21 December 2011, by Senior Correspondent Bobbie Culbertson].  Murray would find his stock in trade in Mexican and European distributors’ catalogs, buy a print, dub it into English, and strike off a couple dozen copies—usually licensed, but such legalities weren’t too strictly observed in the 1960s and ‘70s, especially by showmen who learned the craft at the feet of the legendary Kroger Babb.  Most of Murray’s films weren’t horrible—just too juvenile for those in my age group to enjoy … even in the ‘70s, his syrupy-sweet take on fairy tales was unbearable to anyone who had successfully completed potty-training.

Almost passable were the various Disney Live-Action movies to which we would occasionally be treated.  Movies such as THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON or THE LOVE BUG were far more entertaining than the average movie that was served up to us.  Even better were the various sword-and-sandal pictures—Hercules, Samson, Colossus, and my personal favorite, Sinbad.  These movies were great fun, even if in retrospect they were a little ridiculous.  We didn’t care if they were considered campy, even then—we loved them.

But the best we could get, the movies we hoped to see named in the coupons each week, were Toho (as well as Daiei and Nikkatsu) Studios’ Kaijû films.  Of course, we had never heard the term Kaijû, nor did we care who made them.  They were “Godzilla” movies, whether the big G was the star or not.  Gamera, Gappa, Godzilla—they were one and the same to us.  They all meant giant monsters stomping the hell out of Japanese cities—and that equaled great entertainment.  Each of us had our favorite—mine, as I’ve written previously, was Rodan—but all were worth watching.  If I gained nothing else from those summer days spent at the local theater, then the enduring love I have for Kaijû Eiga (Monster Films) would make them hours well spent.

The end of the Kiddie Shows came not long after I aged out of them.  Studios and distributors began requiring theaters to run the same films at night that they ran during daytime, matinee hours—thus putting an end to the weird, wonderful, wacky films that were the staple of such programs.  It’s a shame.  In this time when kids are under constant pressure to grow up before their time, it’s easy for those of us who can remember simpler times to look back with warm nostalgia … and feel a little sorry for our children.

The Unimonster's Crypt Screening Room: SUCKER PUNCH

Title:  SUCKER PUNCH

 

Date of Theatrical Release:  25 March 2011

MPAA Rating:  PG-13

Since the first trailer was released at San Diego’s Comic-Con last July, this movie has been at the top of the Unimonster’s eagerly awaited list, thus there was no question that I would be comfortably ensconced in my local theater on opening night.  My expectations were high for Zack Snyder’s latest offering, after having been amazed by both 300 and THE WATCHMEN.  And I’m pleased to say that he exceeded those expectations.

First, let me say that I went into the film well aware both of what it was, and wasn’t.  If one chooses to see this movie expecting a tightly-plotted, cohesive story and great acting—well, they might be disappointed with what they get.  If the viewer, however, expects what Snyder is so obviously serving up, at least, based on every promo and trailer I’ve seen, then they’ll be more than happy with the movie.  And what might that be, one wonders?  What Snyder (who also wrote the screenplay, along with Steve Shibuya) is so capably offering his audience is a videogame—a visual feast that explodes in the mind like a light-storm.  It is a confection for the brain, one that requires very little thought devoted to following what plot there is—it’s best to just sit back and enjoy it.

The story follows a young woman referred to only as “Babydoll” (Emily Browning).  It begins with a silent sequence—only the musical score perfectly accompanies the action on-screen as her mother is dying—indeed, our first view of her mother is as the sheet is being drawn over her now lifeless body.  Both Babydoll and her younger sister are left in the dubious care of their stepfather (Gerard Plunkett), whom one is given cause to believe is responsible for the death of his wife.  These suspicions become more firm when we see the stepfather reading the mother’s will—everything, a vast fortune, is left to her daughters.  In a rage, the stepfather storms to Babydoll’s room, his intentions made clear when he sees her there in her pajamas.

She fights off his advances, leaving bloody scratches down the side of his face.  He then looks to her sister’s room and with an evil grin locks Babydoll in her room.  She climbs out the window, in the midst of a driving rainstorm, retrieves a pistol from a desk drawer, and confronts her stepfather just as he’s dragging her sister from her hiding place.  She fires, missing him, but her sister falls to the floor, dead.  She runs from the house to the nearby grave of her mother, where the police catch up to her.

Her stepfather commits her to a mental institution, where he secretly contracts with a corrupt orderly named Blue Jones (Oscar Isaac) to have his stepdaughter lobotomized.  While there’s no doctor on staff that will do the procedure, there is one that visits occasionally; he’ll be there in five days.  Five days, and Babydoll won’t even know her own name, much less anything that can hurt the old man.

The horror of her circumstance causes the girl to retreat into her own mind, creating an alternate reality that is the setting for much of the film.  Gone is the asylum, transformed into a nightclub-slash-brothel.  Babydoll has been sold to the owner, a man named Blue.  But she’s told she’ll be there only five days, at the end of which a mysterious “High Roller” will come for her.  She’s soon befriended by other girls there—Rocket, Amber, and Blondie (Jena Malone, Jamie Chung, and Vanessa Hudgens), who help her to understand what is expected of her in this place.  Only Rocket’s older sister, Sweet Pea (Abbie Cornish), is stand-offish towards the new addition, even after Babydoll rescues Rocket from being raped by the cook.

 

When the woman who trains and oversees the young ladies of the establishment, Madame Gorski (Carla Gugino), informs Babydoll that all the girls must dance for the customers, she discovers yet another reality within herself, one that might hold the key to her freedom.  As she begins to sway hypnotically to the music Gorski plays for her, she finds herself in the snow-covered courtyard of an ancient Japanese castle.  She enters the castle, and is greeted by an elderly wise man (Scott Glenn, with the best performance in the movie).  He tells her that, in order to gain her freedom, she must find five items—a map, fire, a knife, a key, and a fifth item, a mystery, one that only she can solve.  He gives her a Japanese Katana and a Colt 1911A1 pistol, to use in her quest for freedom.  As he closes the door on her, he adds, “Oh, and one more thing … Defend yourself.”

Stylistically, Snyder creates a uniquely hallucinatory landscape for his characters to inhabit, one that seamlessly blends diverse environments and the creatures that populate them into a visually orgiastic whole.  It is a world where the girls do battle, using both modern weapons and swords, in World War I trenches against the Steampunk-inspired reanimated corpses of dead German soldiers, and a B-25 bomber engages in air-to-air combat with an enraged mother dragon.  It makes no sense, but then, it doesn’t need to.  It’s the creation of a young girl’s tortured psyche, struggling to find a place where she is powerful enough to strike back against those who seek to harm her, and overcome her fate.

The grimness and despair of the brothel is offset by the fantasy worlds the girls escape into whenever Babydoll dances.  The CGI, which is usually the weakest link in films of this type, is spectacularly executed, helping the viewer with the necessary suspension of disbelief.  And the music is as much a part of creating these environments as is the imagery.  As Snyder has stated, “… music is the thing that launches them into these fantasy worlds.”

I loved this movie, because I got exactly what I had hoped it would be, what I said I expected four months ago.  “I don’t know what the full story is, or if there is a story.  From what I’ve seen so far, I can’t say I really care about a story.  This movie looks to be pure mind-candy, a psychedelic light-show for the eyes [2010 in Review, 1 January 2011].”  If you go into it expecting to see what Snyder is offering, then my bet is you’ll love it too.

The Unimonster's Crypt Screening Room: HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS, Pt. I

Title:  HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS, Part I

Date of Theatrical Release:  19 November 2010

MPAA Rating:  PG-13

For the past decade, some of the best examples of genre filmmaking have been the HARRY POTTER series of films, based on the novels of J. K. Rowling.  The story of a young wizard’s education, as he grows into his ultimate destiny, captivated millions of young readers, and the movies have become the greatest moneymaking franchise in film history, grossing over $1.9 billion in domestic release so far.  Over $225 million of that total thus far belongs to the newest entry in the series, HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS, Part I.

One of the keys to the success of the films has been the decision to allow the characters to grow naturally, as the actors who portray them grow.  As they have, the films have taken on a decidedly darker, more ominous tone, in keeping with the increasing maturity of the three leads.  For ten years now, Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, and Rupert Grint have brought life to Rowling’s creation, and have aged, along with their fans, into twenty-something adults.

Their characters are now in their 17^th year, and their time at Hogwarts School is coming to an end.  It has, in fact, already ended, with Professor Snape’s murder of Dumbledore at the end of HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE.  On the run from Voldemort’s Death Eaters, the trio isolates themselves from friends and family, hiding out in the wilderness as they search for the remaining horcruxes, or magical objects into which Voldemort has cast fragments of his soul.  As long as they survive, he cannot die.

They discover that the Dark Lord is attempting to gather the Deathly Hallows; three legendary artifacts crafted by Death himself, which when combined would give one power over Death.  Can they find the rest of the horcruxes, and the Deathly Hallows, and defeat Voldemort’s plan?

This, the penultimate Potter film, is the best so far.  The lead characters are, for all intents, adults, and the issues they are facing are weightier than most.  Gone are the artifices of the early films—“How can I rescue Ron while standing for my Potions mid-term”—along with the sometimes oppressively cute aspects of Hogwarts, and the wizarding world in general.  Chocolate frogs and Whomping willows are fine for 11- and 12-year-old wizards and witches, not for 17-year-olds who are soldiers in a war between good and evil.

David Yates is back to direct the series’ conclusion, and does an admirable job of it—at least, if the first part is representative of the whole.  Given the nature of the story, and the fact that this is the culmination of a decade-long journey, the producers wisely decided to split the final book into two films, rather than try to condense the events into one.  Yates, who also directed … ORDER OF THE PHOENIX and … THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE, has a solid grasp of both the characters and Rowling’s overall vision, and the talent to translate them to the screen.

Steve Kloves adapted the book to the screen, as he has every film in the series other than … ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, and has done his customary excellent job.  Though I love the movies, I’ve never read any of the books, so I’m ill-equipped to render a verdict on how faithful he is to the source.  However, as Rowling has been intimately involved in each production, I have to believe she is satisfied with the results.

The one constant in this series has been the fact that the youthful leads have been richly supported by a cast of talented veteran actors, led by the likes of Michael Gambon, Maggie Smith, Alan Rickman, and Ralph Fiennes.  That has changed for this outing, but not entirely for the worse.  Yes, Radcliffe, Watson and Grint are called upon to carry a far larger burden than has been the norm, but they managed to succeed at their task.  It would have been nice to see more than cameo appearances by the series’ regulars, but Yates kept the focus where it belonged.

As always, the visual effects are superb, making the world of Harry Potter come to life for the viewer.  This franchise has always excelled at this form of magic, and viewers will not be disappointed now.  There are several spectacular effects sequences, along with one or two, most notably a lengthy animated sequence, that don’t quite work as intended.  They are minor flaws, however, when compared to the spectacle of an aerial battle above London, a battle that witnesses the deaths of a number of major and minor characters.

This and other violent aspects of the movie have led some to describe it as too intense for small children, and I would probably agree with them.  However, this ceased to be a franchise for small children several installments ago, and I doubt that this will be many people’s first encounter with the world of Harry Potter.  Still, as with all movies, parents are the best judge of what is suitable for their children.  Personally, I took my 13-year-old nephew to see it, and he though it was “… Beast.”  [Ed. Note:  I assume that means he liked it…]

In many ways, I prefer not having read the books prior to seeing the films; I have the enjoyment of being surprised by events, rather than anticipating them.  For ten years I’ve followed this story; I’m quite content to wait for the final installment to find out who wins, who loses; who survives, and who doesn’t.  The drawback is, of course, waiting for July for the answers to those questions.

It’s not often I will make an effort to see a movie on it’s opening weekend.  Frankly, I’m usually content to wait for the DVD, rather than fork out the inflated ticket prices charged by the average Cineplex.  But the Potter films, like STAR TREK movies, are the exception to that rule.  I recommend you make an effort to see it at the theater as well—it’s worth the expense.

DVD Review: PICKMAN'S MUSE

Title:  PICKMAN’S MUSE

Year of Release—Film:  2010

Year of Release—DVD:  2010

DVD Label:  Independently Distributed

When comparing the great masters of written horror, from Mary Shelley to Stephen King, it becomes readily apparent that some are more easily adapted to the screen than others are.  King, for example, is notoriously difficult to translate to the motion-picture format, even by King himself.  That is to say, “translate well.”  For every good King adaptation, there’s a score of not-so-good ones.

One author who does translate very well to the screen is H. P. Lovecraft, the first great 20^th Century author of Fantastic fiction.  Lovecraft, whose mythological creations Chthulu and the Old Ones, demons and elder gods from a dark dimension, still inspire writers and filmmakers, was born in 1890 in Providence, Rhode island, and died a mere 47 years later, of intestinal cancer.

Of the wealth of stories that he wrote in those years, virtually all have been adapted, some several times, into movies.  Some have merely borrowed elements of the stories, such as Sam Raimi’s use of the Necronomicon, a creation of Lovecraft’s, for THE EVIL DEAD.  Some have shamelessly pilfered titles or the barest shreds of plot, such as Uwe Boll’s wretched ALONE IN THE DARK.  Some however, have made earnest, heartfelt efforts to bring his stories to the screen.  One of these latter is the new film from writer / director Robert Cappelletto, PICKMAN’S MUSE.

Howard Phillips Lovecraft, 1890-1937

Based on the story “Haunter of the Dark,” the story concerns an artist named Robert Pickman (played very well by Barret Walz), who is under the care of a psychiatrist.  The psychiatrist, Dr. Dexter (Maurice McNicholas), has grown exasperated with his patient, who makes no effort to connect with anyone else, not even the doctor.  He wants only his medications, and to be left alone to paint.  Semi-successful, he makes a decent living doing commission work, producing paintings to order for decorators.  His problem is that he’s blocked, unable to paint.  His agent tells him to take some time off, promising to stall his clients.

While combing through an abandoned church, sketching various aspects of it, he discovers a mysterious artifact, a pyramid-shaped object from which emanates waves of dark energy.  Upon returning home, he begins to hear voices, strange beings seen only as shadows on his window, talking to him.  Unconsciously, he starts to paint.  And what he paints is an image of abject horror, as though it were an eyewitness view of Hell.

Though I’m unfamiliar with anyone connected to this project (with the exception of Lovecraft himself), they have done a spectacular job working on what could only be a very low budget.  The script is excellent, translating the suspense and horror of the original into the cinematic form, and Cappelletto’s direction is competent and solid.  Cappelletto also photographed it, and here as well his work is good; professional, proficient—not great, not innovative, but it serves the purposes of the story very well.

The cast, as is true with any level of production, is the weak link in the chain, and this is one area where the movie lets the viewer down.  As I stated earlier, Barret Walz is very good in the lead role, as is Tom Lodewyck as Goodie Hines, a lunatic also under Dr. Dexter’s care, one who shares an important connection with Pickman.  Maurice McNicholas, as the good doctor, is adequate but a bit prone to histronics; his performance isn’t terrible, but neither will it impress the viewer.  The rest of the supporting cast is about what one would expect from a low-budget production, and those who enjoy such films will not find them much of a detriment.

As a confirmed fan of both low-budget Indie Horror, and the writings of Howard Phillips Lovecraft, I must say that I am pleased at the recent resurgence in interest in his work.  Lovecraft’s writings have an economy of style, a sparseness that translates well to the motion-picture form.  His horrors are psychological, and his creatures indescribable, unimaginable.  This works in the favor of low-budget filmmakers, who would lack the resources to create convincing monsters the likes of which inhabit the Lovecraftian universe.  Wisely, Cappelletto doesn’t try to show us the creatures haunting Pickman.  As producer Val Lewton best demonstrated nearly 70 years ago, the viewer’s imaginations will fill in the dark voids that the filmmaker leaves us.

As is the case with many low-budget films that lack a major distribution deal, it may be difficult to track this DVD down.  Please, if you’re a fan of Lovecraft, or appreciate good-quality independent filmmaking, don’t be deterred from looking for it.  It can be found at Amazon.com, and at Robert Cappelletto’s MySpace page.  I enthusiastically recommend you look for it.

Horror and Sci-Fi: Two of a Kind?

A couple of years ago, Sean Kotz, CreatureScape’s editor, asked if I could write something examining the relationship between Horror and Science-Fiction in film. Not having anything more pressing on my schedule, and wanting to keep my former editor happy, I said “Sure!” Then I thought to myself, “Just how big a can of worms am I opening here?” After all, not everyone has the same ideas of just what is Horror and what is Science-Fiction. Even the great Ackermonster himself considers the greatest Horror film of all time, FRANKENSTEIN (1931), to be more of a Sci-Fi film—not entirely surprising, when you remember who coined the phrase “Sci-Fi.”

Still, Sean did ask, and I did say yes… and this was the result. These are MY opinions on just what Horror is, what Science-Fiction is, and how they’re really two sides of the same coin.

Horror may be the oldest form of storytelling known to man. It certainly is one of the most enduring. Some of the earliest recorded tales are, in essence, horror stories.

The gorgons and the Minotaur in Greek legends, the eater of souls in Egyptian mythology, and countless other examples served much the same role in ancient society as Jason Voorhees and Bloody Mary do today: To frighten us out of our wits, and to warn us about possible consequences to our actions. Science-Fiction may be nearly as old, with roots also going back to the legends of Ancient Greece, such as Icarus & Daedalus; or to the Norse sagas, with tales of Valkyries and Valhalla. Superman, it can be argued, is little more than Hercules in red and blue spandex. Certainly, modern superhero groups such as the Justice League of America and the X-Men can trace their ancestry back to the heroes of Homer’s epics, the Odyssey and the Iliad.

People, especially in times of strife or war, love to be frightened, and love to be excited. It was true in the 1940’s, and it’s true today. Horror movies, thrill rides, extreme sports—whatever pushes our senses to the edge, however vicariously, seems almost addictive. We are constantly in search of a bigger and better thrill; more realistic, more frightening. And for many of us, we choose to get our thrills from Horror and Sci-Fi Films.

Horror comes in many forms, but most of those wouldn’t fit a strict definition of it commonly used when discussing genre films. War is definitely horror, especially for those called to fight in one. But that doesn’t make THE GUNS OF NAVARONE (1961), or SAVING PRIVATE RYAN (1997) Horror Films. They abundantly illustrate the horrors of war, but there is no connection to the Horror Film in them.

Also, simply because a film is violent doesn’t qualify it for genre status. There are countless examples of violence in cinema, films such as THE GODFATHER (1972) or TAXI DRIVER (1976), or, more recently, films by such directors as Quentin Tarantino or John Woo. Arguably, SCARFACE is one of the most violent films ever made, but it no more belongs in a collection of horror than any other Crime picture.

But one genre is so closely associated with Horror that often they are indistinguishable from one another, and that sibling genre is of course Science-Fiction. This is a case where two very similar genres often blend into one. Naturally, not all Sci-Fi is Horror, and vice-versa. Films such as 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1969) and WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE (1951), are pure Sci-Fi, with no (or very few) elements of Horror. Conversely, WAR OF THE WORLDS (1953), and ALIEN (1979), are perhaps the best examples of Sci-Fi as Horror: They have the sense of unreality that true Horror creates. So what, for the purposes of this column, defines Horror, and how does it differ from its fraternal twin, Science-Fiction?

Great Horror Films draw the viewer into the worlds they create; we experience the terror and excitement as though we were on-screen. We feel Chris McNeil’s anguish and confusion at what’s happening to her daughter Regan; we can easily sympathize with Chief Brody’s fear of the water as he heads out to sea on-board the Orca. We are as shocked as Malcolm Crowe is to find out that one of the ‘dead people’ that Cole is speaking of is the good doctor himself.

Similarly, great Science-Fiction, even more than Horror, creates worlds for the viewer to inhabit, worlds that often take on a reality of their own. Anyone who doubts this is invited to attend the nearest Star Trek convention and see for themselves. Sci-Fi more than any other genre is subject to this intense fandom, perhaps because the worlds of the Federation, the Rebel Alliance, or Middle Earth are in many ways better than the boring, ho-hum existence of life in the real world. But where does the dividing line between Horror and Science-Fiction lie, if indeed there is one?

Earth’s armies fighting back against the invading Martians; or a small group of people trapped with an alien monster, are in a situation outside their normal frame of reference; it inspires fear unlike the normal, expected fears of men in battle. The viewer shares in this, knowing that these aren’t conflicts in the conventional sense of the word. Otherwise, it would be no different than the Federation Starships battling Klingon Battlecruisers in Star Trek, or for that matter, the Japanese attacking Pearl Harbor in TORA, TORA, TORA.

Horror is that which has an element of the unreal to it. Horror is not you finding a dead body; horror is a dead body finding YOU. A good Horror Film places the victim in a situation that shouldn’t be, something not within the realm of possibility.

Take for example the FRIDAY THE 13TH series of films (it really doesn’t matter which one, does it?): An attractive group of kids; pleasant, comfortable surroundings; good times being had by all.

Into this, an unexpected element is introduced, something that is completely surreal: An unstoppable killing machine, with absolutely no humanity whatsoever. No motive, no remorse, nothing to moderate the pure… EVIL of the monster. Jason Voorhees isn’t some crackhead knocking off a liquor store to get his next fix; he’s not a mobster killing for profit. His only motivation is to kill. No food, sex, or rest. Just… Kill. That makes it Horror.

Great Horror, again like great Science-Fiction, envelopes it’s fans in a world where disbelief is suspended, and all things not only seem possible, but ARE possible. We don’t question how Michael Myers keeps coming back to carve his way through Haddonfield, we simply accept that he has, the same way that we accept the fact that when Scotty slides those three levers on his console, the transporter will work. The same goes for Jason and Freddy; Phasers and Lightsabers; Frankenstein’s Monster and a shark named Bruce. We don’t question the how; and seldom the why; we just accept that it IS. Genre Films are a visceral, emotional experience for those who love them, and great ones are able to pull us into their realities, even if only for the duration of a movie.

Horror and Sci-Fi Films aren’t everyone’s chosen genres; that’s fine. Not everyone likes Gilbert & Sullivan, either. However, for those of us who cut our fangs on the Universal classics; or thrilled to the exploits of Kirk, Luke, and Frodo; or simply love a good scare now and then, don’t worry about whether it’s Horror, Science-Fiction, or a little of both. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy.