October 29, 2005.

As we approach Halloween, the supposed highpoint of the genre fan's calendar, it is hard to ignore the sad fact that the horror genre is in dire straits, having been bludgeoned into a near vegetative state by wave upon wave of vacuous remakes and unnecessary sequels.

Originality is a word rarely mentioned, and the Hollywood studios stubbornly cling to their beloved teen demographic, refusing to support anything even vaguely intelligent, adult, or indeed, remotely horrifying. The genre, instead of harbouring dark geniuses or vigorous sleaze-mongers, has become the stamping ground of music video directors who churn out safe, depressingly unambitious fare which serves only to make up box office numbers and provide an excuse for high school teens to neck in the back rows.

The same is sadly true in the East, as after a promising burst of imaginative releases around the turn of the century, the rot has truly set in, with virtually every genre film that comes out of Korea, Japan, and other parts of Asia being based either on the exploits of the omnipresent long haired female ghost or around an increasingly disparate set of possessed inanimate objects. These in turn are robbed of any impact they may have had by the dispiriting yet inevitable announcement of a Hollywood remake, a tear stained list which seems to grow on a daily basis.

With indignity heaped upon indignity, the lot of the horror fan in this day and age is an unhappy one indeed, a fact made all the more obvious when looking at the theatrical releases during what is supposed to be the genre's annual zenith. This year, we have the insulting non-choice of a lame remake, an unwanted sequel, and perhaps worst of all, a hyperactive video game adaptation.

For shame!

Halloween has long been a time for the telling of dark tales, from the days of old when people would huddle close to the fire swapping ghost stories while they drank their ancient brews. It's a tradition carried through to the modern age, when people skulk into theatres or crowd around televisions sharing the terrifying experience of films like "Night of the Living Dead" while quaffing six packs or guzzling cheap wine.

It is hard to imagine a present day equivalent, with films such as the lamentable "House of Wax" offering terror only to the cappuccino swigging generation of those with a ten second attention span.

Of course, such things come in cycles, and no doubt the genre will be rejuvenated and redefined at some point in the next few years, though this offers little more than carrion comfort as horror fans make their plans for what to watch on the approaching 31^st of October. As with so many years in the past, the obvious, though unadventurous option presents itself immediately in the form of classics such as "Halloween", "Evil Dead", or other venerable statesmen.

However, the horror genre is rich with history, and for those willing to explore its shadowy, though welcoming recesses, a dark treasure chest awaits. With this in mind, presented for your viewing pleasure is a selection of macabre delights best viewed with the lights off, the curtains drawn, jack o'lantern grinning in the dark corner and a six pack of reasonably priced red wine within easy reach.

These are not necessarily the greatest horror films ever made, but a set which represent the Halloween spirit, each dripping with ghoulish charm and an eerie atmosphere which befits the one day of the year when, as we all know, everybody deserves at least one good scare.

THE FUNHOUSE (1981)

Ah, Tobe Hooper, the much maligned director of the enduring classic "Texas Chainsaw Massacre", a film which has sadly cast a shadow over the rest of his work. Although Hooper's output since his stunning debut has admittedly been somewhat patchy, he has still been responsible for a great many superior genre films, more so than some seem to be aware of or willing to admit.

"The Funhouse" is one of these, a 1981 slasher that oozes with the wonderful sleazy atmosphere of a carnival sideshow that is also its setting, bathed in lurid colours and with a surprisingly subtle subtext regarding the face of evil. Although the film is undeniably constructed around the tried and tested 'stalk and slash' formula, Hooper's direction is taut and he actually makes an effort to invest in his characters rather than simply populating the film with the usual grating stereotypes so common in 1980s horror. These elements are enough to distinguish "The Funhouse" from the cavalcade of 'meat movie' schlock so prevalent at the time.

"The Funhouse" also benefits hugely from a surprisingly affecting monster, and a skilful, at times ingenious use of the carnival setting to make for an evocative, creepy experience that delivers on all levels.

For those already familiar with the charms of "The Funhouse", Hooper's follow up to "Texas Chainsaw", "Death Trap" (known in some territories as "Eaten Alive") is almost as good. "Death Trap" is a backwoods chiller about a crazed hotel owner who feeds guests to a giant alligator, and features dialogue shamelessly lifted by Tarantino for his "Kill Bill" opus.

Then again, from who hasn't Tarantino shamelessly lifted from?


CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD (1983)

Lucio Fulci has long been acknowledged as one of the greats of Euro-horror, though in truth this is probably due to his fondness for flying viscera more than his cinematic talent.

"City of the Living Dead", considered by aficionados to be one of Fulci's best, is at least one of his most coherent. It is the story of an ancient prophecy of doom being fulfilled in a small New England town following the suicide of a priest. The film is a grab bag of gore, including a spectacular and nauseating scene of entrail-vomiting, strung together by a flimsy plot and accompanied by laughable dialogue and a shrieking synth keyboard score. All of which make it hard to watch without a smile, though this of course is all part of the film's appeal.

But what really sets "City of the Living Dead" apart and makes it ideal Halloween viewing is that it has a great, almost Lovecraftian atmosphere, full of mist shrouded graveyards and evil lurking in the shadows, lending the proceedings a surreal, nightmarish aspect.

If nothing else, "City of the Living Dead" serves as an excellent counterpoint to the anemic efforts which populate the horror genre today, which take as much pride in avoiding gory scenes as directors such as Fulci used to take in basing entire films around them.

Though "City of the Living Dead" is probably the most appropriate of Lucio's films for the occasion, "The House by the Cemetery" offers a similar, though slower moving alternative.


DEMONS (1986)

Directed by Lamberto Bava (son of Mario), and produced by the legendary Dario Argento, the appeal of this Italian classic can be summed up by the scene of a man riding a motorcycle around a cinema lobby crowded with pus dripping shiny eyed demons lopping off their heads with a samurai sword.

Although relatively nonsensical, with an odd, film-within-a-film opening gambit, "Demons" is basically "Night of the Living Dead" in reverse, with trapped patrons trying desperately to escape from the building while being hunted by the titular monsters, whose bite is horribly contagious. The key to the film's success is the fact that it never lets up, relentlessly disposing of characters with a wicked glee and an avalanche of gore.

Stylishly shot and breathlessly kinetic, Bava ramps up the proceedings by mixing the usual shrieking keyboards with a pounding heavy metal soundtrack, which sits well with the obligatory bad dubbing and risible dialogue.

To be honest, the whole film is pretty ludicrous, frequently flying in the face of logic and reason, though in a cheerfully trashy, gonzo fashion. There are some wonderful moments, including a very effective scene in which the demons creep slowly and ominously up the cinema aisles, eyes glowing in the dark, while shrouded in dry ice which has appeared from nowhere. Bloody style over substance of any kind is obviously the order of the day, though for genre fans looking for a spirited, entertaining film so rare in modern horror cinema, they would do well to go for this rollercoaster ride of demented splatter.

It is worth noting that there are several sequels, though only the forth (generally referred to as "The Church") is worth catching, and the second in particular is to be avoided at all costs.


THE TRAIL (1981)

"The Trail" is an early effort from "Freddy Vs. Jason" helmer Ronny Yu, and is proof that not all Asian horror films are concerned with long haired spectres.

"The Trail" is instead a wonderfully creepy and gruesome affair, complete with tacky but entertaining Eastern mysticism and a shamelessly stolen soundtrack. Following a pair of bungling smugglers who are charged with transporting the corpse of a recently murdered man, the film boasts a series of impressive and sinister locations utilised to the full for maximum atmosphere.

Yu shows a good amount of both imagination and visual flair, and manages to avoid drowning the potential scares in slapstick, as was so often the case with Hong Kong horror of the time. His use of colour is excellent, drenching every scene with the baleful suggestion of dark magic and supernatural evil. The film resembles at several points an Eastern version of an early John Carpenter classic, with the special effects and Yu's direction recalling "The Fog" and "The Thing" -- though the latter is mainly due to the fact that the film lifts Ennio Morricone's eerie score.

The overall feel of "The Trail" is that of an old fashioned horror comic, and the basic theme of the vengeful dead returning to life is timeless and engaging, nicely spiced up with the oddball weirdness so characteristic of Hong Kong genre efforts of the era.


NIGHT OF THE DEMONS (1988)

"Night of the Demons" is in many ways the quintessential 1980s Halloween film, mixing the slasher and haunted house genres in a fun, atmospheric fashion which results in one of the most entertaining and raucous efforts of the decade.

The plot itself is nothing if not archetypal, following a group of youngsters who decide to spend Halloween in an old and abandoned, but apparently haunted funeral home, exactly as films would have us believe was the norm for kids of the time. Pretty much every element of the genre is present and correct, and although the clichés fly thick and fast, they do so in the manner of an affectionate tribute to the genre rather than a cheap knock off.

A good example of this is the fact that the funeral parlour where the teens go to party is called 'Hull House' -- not exactly subtle, but a nice touch nonetheless. This sense of fun pervades the whole film, and director Kevin Tenney makes a real effort to drum up a Halloween atmosphere right from the start with the excellent animated ghostly credits. Although the film is not played for laughs as such, the cast, including scream queen Linnea Quigley, all appear to be having a good time, a feeling more than likely to be shared by the viewer.

It goes without saying that everything expected happens, as demons possess the teens, resulting in carnage a-plenty, with more than enough action and ghoulish goings-on to satisfy genre fans and make them forget about the overly familiar nature of the proceedings.

More than anything, "Night of the Demons" serves nicely as a perfect snapshot of the state of the genre in the 1980s, and is a great slice of zeitgeist, likely to bring back fond memories for fans that lurked around video stores at the time. 

There are a couple of sequels which are also worth checking out, as is Tenney's earlier "Witchboard".


THE HAUNTING (1963)

It would be unthinkable, and in decidedly poor taste not to include at least one haunted house film in any Halloween itinerary, and the 1963 classic "The Haunting" is probably the best example of this subgenre.

The film is ripe for rediscovery, all memories of the awful 1999 CGI soaked remake having hopefully been erased, and retains its power to chill more than forty years after its first appearance. Though it may be strange to think that the man responsible for "The Sound of Music" could be capable of committing such arch horror to celluloid, the film is simply terrifying, showing a restraint and deceptive simplicity bereft in its more modern counterparts.

"The Haunting" is made all the richer by its beautiful, gothic set design, which indeed makes the house almost a character in its own right. The film also has a fascinating, subtle psychological depth with begs further analysis and hooks even the most skeptical viewer right from the start. There is an unsettlingly eldritch, almost whispered quality about "The Haunting" that gives it the feel of a classic ghost story, and one which demands to be watched by an open fire with several large glasses of red wine.

If for some reason "The Haunting" is unavailable, two very worthy alternatives are "The Legend of Hell House", a similar take on the same material starring Roddy McDowell, and "The Changeling", an often overlooked and mature genre entry which adds a political dimension to the creepy goings-on.


ALONE IN THE DARK (1982)

"Alone in the Dark" is another classic from the man known affectionately by his fans as "Dr. Boll", following in the footsteps of his landmark genre achievement, "House of the Dead".

Of course, I'm being entirely facetious, and am in fact referring to the 1982 classic from Jack Sholder, who was also responsible for "The Hidden" and "A Nightmare on Elm St. 2".

Following in the steps of "Halloween", with a dash of "Straw Dogs" and a distinctly lunatic streak, "Alone in the Dark" boasts one of the all time great exploitation triumvirate of Donald Pleasance (playing an even wackier psychiatrist than Dr. Loomis), Jack Palance (a man who has forged an illustrious career in schlock cinema in roles simply too numerable to mention) and Martin Landau (who won an Oscar for his turn as Bela Lugosi in "Ed Wood").

Wisely, Sholder provides plenty of meat for all three actors to chew, standing back and allowing them to give unrestrained, crazed performances that are worth the price of admission alone. Palance in particular is in fine form, alternating between throaty whispers and screaming rants in a truly frightening and intimidating manner.

The film follows a doctor (played by Dwight Schultz, of "The A-Team" fame) who starts his new job at a rather odd mental asylum, only to find that the three most dangerous inmates there blame him for the departure and imagined murder of his predecessor. The three escape after a power cut, and lay siege to the doctor's house, terrorising him and his family and slaughtering anyone who gets in their way.

Sholder, though allowing a few genuinely funny lines to creep into the script, gradually notches up the tension as the maniacs close in on the doctor's house, lurking in the shadows and leaping out on their victims. There is a real off-kilter atmosphere, not least of which is due to the fact that at least half the cast appear to be genuinely insane, which makes for some unpredictable shocks and edge of the seat action.

"Alone in the Dark" is definitely a film which deserves to be better known amongst genre fans, and has certainly stood the test of time, far better than the majority of its peers.

(c) 2005 by James Mudge and BeyondHollywood.com

You can email James Mudge at jamesmudge@btinternet.com with your comments, suggestions, or angry rants.