Annihilation: Book One of the Area X: Southern Reach Trilogy (2014) by Jeff VanderMeer: Interesting, cosmically horrifying ideas are relentlessly stripped of all horror and weirdness by the attenuated, flat nature of both characterization and description in this first, shortest novel of Jeff VanderMeer's double-named Area X/Southern Reach trilogy.
VanderMeer seems to be striving for the sort of vague horror of his Weird Fiction touchstone M. John Harrison, specifically in the vein of Harrison stories that include "The New Rays" and "Egnaro." Which is to say, the two Harrison stories included by VanderMeer in his massive and massively flawed anthology The Weird. Harrison's stories take place in places that seem contemporary, but vaguely so, with both time and place being disturbingly off-kilter.
So some time in the near future in the Southern United States, a research team of five women ventures into an area called Area X. They're the 13th such team. Or are they? Is this the near future or is this going on 'now'? Do the characters have names or are they only referred to by their occupations?
Our Biologist narrator lost her husband to Area X. Just getting into Area X somehow wipes one's memory of getting into Area X. The whole place is a sort of mutated dimensional space caused by Something from Outside crashing into a lighthouse some time in the past. Or that's what it appears to be. To the lighthouse, then!
Ciphers squabble with other ciphers. No one figures much out. There's a weird thing in an underground complex. There are signs of bloody battle at the lighthouse. The narrator's husband nicknamed her Ghost Bird, a nickname that doesn't seem to apply much to our characterless main character.
VanderMeer throws around italicized words and phrases like August Derleth editing H.P. Lovecraft stories. Is that intentional? Because the set-up of Area X is pretty much the set-up of Lovecraft's 1928 classic "The Colour Out of Space," in which the titular something mutates and destroys a New England landscape and everything in it.
It takes a special sort of genius to make events and things as weird as are posited in this novel so boring, so enervating to this reader that there is no way I'm reading the second and third books. Your results may vary. It all feels like horror for people too refined for horror. Not recommended.
It Comes At Night (2017): written and directed by Trey Edward Shults; starring Joel Edgerton (Paul), Christopher Abbott (Will), Carmen Ejogo (Sarah), Riley Keough (Kim), Kelvin Harrison Jr. (Travis), and Griffin Robert Faulkner (Andrew):
Tense, claustrophobic thriller is set during some sort of zombie-plague apocalypse but uses that apocalypse to explore the horrors of human beings under pressure. Father, mother, and teen-aged son hide in a house in the woods. A stranger arrives. Charity fights with fear.
Anyone expecting pitched battles with the walking dead will be disappointed in It Comes At Night. But if you're in the mood for a downbeat tale of character and failure, the movie is a solid effort. It's a use of the zombie to comment on human frailties that the Grandfather of Zombie Movies, George 'Night of the Living Dead' Romero, would have thoroughly enjoyed and endorsed. Recommended.
House of Leaves (2000) by Mark Z. Danielewski: Danielewski's ambitious first novel spawned a sort of cult following that is itself metafictional, given that the text within the text spawns a sort of cult following.
And that text is a lengthy examination of a movie that doesn't seem to actually exist within the world of the text, supplemented by lengthy, autobiographical footnotes from the man who found and assembled the examination of the movie after discovering it in the apartment of a recently deceased, blind writer.
Who himself also supplied lengthy footnotes to supplement the text he had spent decades writing. A text about a documentary about the House of Leaves. A documentary that doesn't seem to have ever existed. Got all that?
House of Leaves is postmodern and experimental and avant-garde and All That Jazz. It's a horror novel about a house that grows room upon room within itself, within which lurks, perhaps, a monster. Or perhaps the monster is simply the house itself. It does at times appear to be intelligent. It's a love story about a man and his lost, mentally ill mother. It's a satire of academic writing. It's a satire of epics, epic catalogues, epic odysseys. It's an epic itself.
It even turns into a concrete poem for a few dozen pages.
And oh, those footnotes!
The movie at the heart of the narrative is a documentary about attempts to explore and understand those hidden, ever-shifting rooms. The family who owns the house consists of a revered photojournalist, a former model, and two children. One day, when they return from a holiday, their house has somehow acquired a new hallway. And things get weirder from there.
If there's a flaw here, it's the tendency of the text to draw every woman other than the mentally ill mother and, for the most part, the former model as sexy, sexy sex objects. But all those sexy 'librarians' and strippers are part of the frame narrative, the footnote narrative, written by an increasingly unstable 24-year-old man. Are any of these women real? As the sex scenes involving these women all read like Penthouse Forum wish fulfillment, I'd say a conditional 'No.' Or at least I hope not.
However, House of Leaves is otherwise a fine piece of work. A horror story, a love story, a description of a documentary, a family drama, a mystery, an epic. And a convincing portrait of mental illness, if your interpretation goes that way. If your interpretation goes a long way, that way, the whole text is a delivery from a fictional writer who's suffered a monumental break with reality. Or it really is a cosmic horror piece, and so on, and so forth. It can support a whole bag of overlapping interpretations. It has many mansions.
Set aside time to read it. It's a marvelous piece of work. Highly recommended.
By the Light of My Skull (2018) by Ramsey Campbell, containing the following stories:
- The Words Between • (2016) : An homage to The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari written for a theme anthology is both a chilling appreciation of that seminal horror film and a grim portrayal of a disintegrating mind.
- The Wrong Game • (2016) : A fictional Ramsey Campbell is visited by haunting memories of a 1970's science-fiction and fantasy convention.
- The Impression • (2014) : Perhaps the most overt nod to M.R. James sees an innocent bit of grave-marker rubbing unleash something on a boy and his grandmother.
- The Watched • (2014) : Sensitive, harrowing portrayal of a boy, an obsessed cop, and a stressed grandmother.
- Reading the Signs • (2013) : Don't get lost. Don't pick up hitchhikers.
- Know Your Code • (2016) : A portrait of a couple in their 'dotage' also involves some of Campbell's love of wordplay and puzzles.
- Find My Name • (2013) : A satisfying nod to a classic folk tale pits a grandmother against a familiar foe for the life of her grandchild. Word play abounds.
- On the Tour • (2014) : A forgotten Liverpool musician becomes increasingly obsessed with the Beatles bus tour.
- At Lorn Hall • (2012) : A tour of an English mansion has no need for a tour guide when those headphones are available! A modern spin on an M.R. James set-up.
- Fetched • (2016) (aka "Nightmare" 2015): You can't go home again. Or maybe shouldn't. Another story dealing with aging and loss.
- The Moons • (2011) : Children in the woods meet a helpful forest ranger. Though he does look peculiar. Very unnerving.
- The Callers • (2012) : Another reason to avoid Bingo with Grandma. Fine portrayal of young and old.
- The Page • (2012) : Campbell's homage to Bradbury also homages Philip K. Dick's conspiracies.
- Her Face • (2018) : Solid vignette about a child's fear of a corner-shop owner, a fear that only increases after her death. Another broken family.
- The Fun of the Fair (2018): A dive into his notes for the classic 1970's story "The Companion" yields a new story with few shared traits with the old story. Well, other than a fearful, lost fairground/carnival and a fearsome meditation on aging.
Overall: My favourite Campbell non-reprint collection of stories since Dark Companions in the mid-1980's. And Dark Companions was one of the ten greatest original horror stories ever. The stories are especially good in their characterization characters young and old, and in striking sparks both dark and light from these interactions.
One of the important lessons one can learn from Campbell is that horror is at its most effective when it's not portrayed as some sort of supernatural revenge. One can find thematic reasons for the types of horror the characters face stemming from their personal histories, but there's no justice in real horror. It's an existential plague.
That doesn't mean there can't be humour, lightness, or word play in a horror story. Or to riff on Campbell's love of word play, I'd say that his 50+ year career spent terrifying us makes him... an eminence grisly... !!! Highly recommended.
Predators (2010): written by Alex Litvak and Michael Finch; directed by Nimrod Antal; produced by Robert Rodriguez; starring Adrien Brody (Royce), Topher Grace (Edwin), Alice Braga (Isabelle), Walton Goggins (Stans), Oleg Taktarov (Nikolai), Laurence Fishburne (Noland), Danny Trejo (Cuchillo), Louis Ozawa Changchien (Hanzo), and Mahershala Ali (Mombasa): Overcrowded with characters and gifted with a hilariously miscast Adrien Brody, Predators is nonetheless mostly entertaining. Producer Robert Rodriguez's fingerprints are all over it, though Nimrod Antal is a slicker director than he. Lightly recommended.
The Thin Blue Line (1988): written and directed by Errol Morris; score by Philip Glass: Errol Morris' riveting documentary, backed by a hypnotic Philip Glass score, got an apparently innocent man out of jail. Randall Adams spent about ten years in a Texas jail for a murder that the film overwhelmingly suggests was committed by another man. The film shows how the justice system can go horribly awry, even after Adams finally goes free -- Texas releases him in such a way that he can't receive any wrongful imprisonment funds from the State. Thanks, assholes! One of the essential documentaries (and films) of all time. Highly recommended.
Cam (2018): written by Isa Mazzel, Daniel Goldhaber, and Isabelle Link-Levy; directed by Daniel Goldhaber; starring Madeline Brewer (Alice/ Lola), Patch Darragh (Tinker), Melora Walters (Lynne), Devin Druid (Jordan), Imani Hakim (Baby), and Michael Dempsey (Barney): Former cam-girl Isa Mazzel co-wrote this horror movie of stolen identities and mysterious online presences (she also cameos as a check-out clerk).
Protagonist Alice, screen-name 'Lola,' finds her attempts to climb the ladder of popularity for cam-girls complicated by the appearance of another cam-girl who looks and sounds exactly like her -- and is willing to do stuff that Lola is not.
Cam takes us into cam-girl culture, an online niche I'm not that familiar with. Alice seems to make a good living from her feed, supplementing it with gifts from some of her more ardent admirers. The ardent admirers are... pretty creepy. Is one of them the source of doppel-Lola? Or is something even weirder going on?
Madeline Brewer makes for an engaging protagonist. The film doesn't condescend to her cam-girl shenanigans -- it's a job, even if it involves nudity and feigned sex acts. And as things escalate both online and in the 'real' world, Alice has to find reserves of character she may not be aware of possessing. All this without a Very Special Ending in which cam-culture is revealed to be The End of the World As We Know It.
Cam is visually interesting, moving between the mundane colours of the day-to-day world and the vibrant f*ck-me colours of Lola's cam-room, other cam-rooms, and the online presences on the cam-girl site. Directot Goldhaber handles both the gradually building weirdness and a couple of explosions of violence with care. There's even a stunner of an 'embarrassment' scene that doesn't pay off later in quite the way the viewer expects it will.
In all, this Netflix film is a solid piece of horror, its characterization of Alice sensitive, its willingness to avoid pat answers a godsend. It even plays fair within the rules of the cam-girl site when it comes to facing the mysterious entity. Highly recommended.
The Masque of the Red Death (1964): adapted by Charles Beaumont and R. Wright Campbell from stories by Edgar Allan Poe, including "Hop Frog" and "The Masque of the Red Death"; directed by Roger Corman; starring Vincent Price (Prince Prospero), Hazel Court (Juliana), Jane Asher (Francesca), and Skip Martin (Hop Toad):
"And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all." - Poe, "The Masque of the Red Death."
Low-budget horror impresario Roger Corman got more money than he ever had before for this loose adaptation of a couple of Edgar Allan Poe stories. Further aided by British film credits and leftover sets from Becket, Corman made his horror masterpiece. It certainly didn't hurt that the great cameraman and later director Nicholas Roeg was cameraman for the movie.
Above all, the movie looks great. The set design and costumes are impressively bright, fanciful, and intermittently bleak when we visit the blasted heaths of the medieval Spanish countryside.
Set some time during the Middle Ages in Catalan, The Masque of the Red Death focuses on the sinister, Satan-worshiping local lord of the manor, Prince Prospero. The plague of the Red Death has fallen upon the countryside. So Prospero retreats to his castle with his favoured nobles and entertainers. And with a pure and virtuous peasant girl he has kidnapped, along with her lover and her father.
Prospero derives entertainment from the debasement and murder of those around him. The virtuous peasant girl (played solidly by Hazel Court) is someone to 'break.' But her faith in God impresses him, in part because of how seemingly misplaced that faith is in the plague and poverty and violence ravaged country side.
And so begins the Masque of the Red Death, the worst costume ball ever, at least from a survival standpoint. The Red Death isn't simply a disease -- it's a being. And it has promised deliverance to the peasant girl and doom for Prince Prospero and his guests. Prospero has faith that Satan will protect him. We'll see how that goes.
The Masque of the Red Death is a great and poignant spectacle, capped with a couple of show-stopping scenes. Back to back. I guess the second scene would have to be a show-stop-maintaining scene, as the show is already stopped. Vincent Price is magnificent as Prospero, a truly awful being with a certain bleak and oily charm. Skip Martin is also good as Poe's vengeful jester-dwarf Hop Toad. Highly recommended.
Red State (2011): written and directed by Kevin Smith; starring Michael Angarano (Travis), Nicholas Braun (Billy-Ray), Ronnie Connell (Randy), Stephen Root (Sheriff Wynan), Melissa Leo (Sara), Kerry Bishe (Cheyenne), Michael Parks (Abin Cooper), John Goodman (ATF Agent Keenan), and Kevin Pollak (ASAC Brooks):
Kevin Smith's bleak satire of sex, religion, and politics in America is one of his three or four best films. He's stripped the narrative of all sentimentality, which is simply my way of saying 'Don't get too attached to any of the characters!' This results in a lot of truly shocking moments, but one which does not celebrate or valorize violence or nihilism.
What you have are three randy teen-aged boys, bored with high school and life, and on the lookout for an easy hook-up via the Internet. You've got a virulently hateful local Christian church which spews hatred against pretty much everyone who isn't a member of the church. You've got the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms out for a big law-enforcement score. You've got corrupt, inept, and easily manipulated local law enforcement.
These ingredients make for a heady cocktail of horror and mayhem once they've been stirred.
Smith gets some fine performances out of his cast, especially John Goodman as an increasingly bewildered ATF agent, his good intentions destroyed at every turn by power-hungry superiors, inept local law enforcement, and junior agents following orders. Michael Parks of Twin Peaks plays the cult leader as a disarmingly charming, creepy monster of religious intolerance.
It's a funny movie at points, punctuated by sudden and awful violence. And even some of the violence becomes funny, at times because of its very suddenness and messiness. Hopefully Smith will make more movies like this -- it's a minor classic. Highly recommended.
Nightrunners (2016): written and directed by Rowan Nielsen; starring Grace Glowicki (Jessica), Mandi Nicholson (Isobel), Esther Asinga (Mama Achupa), Mary Etuku (Mama Esther), Christopher Oketch (Giggly), Sam Okudo (Chief), and Neville Misati (Michael):
This solid, low-budget film seems like it's going to be about some sort of monsters given the title and the first half-hour of set-up. But it goes off on an interesting tangent, without necessarily invalidating the idea that there are weird monsters out there, outside the camera's field of vision.
I will note that the film has nothing to do with Joe R. Lansdale's classic splatterpunk novel The Nightrunners.
Nightrunners follows two 20-something American women who've traveled to a remote Kenyan island to do charitable things and record them for a film project. The Kenyans are friendly. The women are accepted easily into the community. But they're told to never leave their compound at night. And at night, strange sounds and cries begin.
Then there's a mysterious death. And the woman who films everything starts to see things that don't show up on any camera. All this while her friend starts to forge close connections with the Kenyans, especially the affable Michael.
The film plays 'fair' throughout in straddling the line between 'real' and hallucinated events, between the supernatural and the delusional. It also offers a subtle critique of White People Bearing Gifts, culture shock, and the toll secrets can take on individuals, especially when they begin to surface without any conscious control.
And it manages some creepy moments in which the viewer (well, if the viewer is Caucasian) must question why one is creeped out in the first place. There's an interrogation of unconscious racism here, and quite an effective one. Recommended.
