After seeing Hereditary a few weeks ago, I left stunned, thinking that I hadn’t seen a horror film like Hereditary in a very long time. So much happened, much of it overwhelming in its emotional punch and terror. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I gave up trying to decipher things and instead just let memories of it come to me. It is one of the most genuinely horrific films I’ve seen recently. It’s also one of the most depressing films I’ve seen in a long time.
After weeks of not knowing how to write this review, I finally managed to lean into the film’s complexity. Hereditary is so good at unfolding itself, at managing what information it offers the audience and when. Not only does this model make for excellent slow burns, but it also mirrors the disintegration of the family as their first loss spirals into unimaginable horror. It is a tragic story, really, a film about a woman that unwittingly enables and fulfills her family’s nightmarish fate.
As far as horror movies go, Hereditary isn’t focused on entertainment, though I found the film entertaining in and of itself. No, Hereditary is more focused on using its story and characters to create a fundamentally unnerving experience. It explores how we are at our most vulnerable around our family members, and despite our fervent beliefs that we can ignore the scars and outrun the past, we can’t always. Continue reading
*Be Warned – Very Mild Spoilers for A Quiet Place*
I’ve always said that, for any medium, the key to creating a compelling narrative is developed characters. This is especially true in crafting exceptional horror movies, where the disturbing events unfolding on screen pack an intense punch not just because of their scariness but because of the risk they pose to characters the audiences cares about. Yeah, a novel concept, good pacing, and deft camera work contribute, but no one cares about any of that if the characters aren’t watchable.
This is especially true for A Quiet Place, which wisely uses its script and actors as the foundation upon which the whole movie is based. Its inventive concept, heart-pounding scenes, and swelling tension would have fallen flat without the work that went into the script and the acting. In doing so, A Quiet Place stakes a claim as the first exceptional horror movie of 2018. (I know that’s not saying much when compared to films like Winchester or The Strangers: Prey at Night, but the rest of 2018’s horror movie faces stiff competition.)
I. Am. Pumped. April horror is chock full of all sorts of festival horror movies I’ve been waiting for, and they look great!
This April, we’re getting not one, not two, but three horror movies from last month’s SXSW, and they look amazing. I can already confirm that A Quiet Place, starring Emily Blunt and John Krasinski, is very good and highly enjoyable. That leaves Wildling, one of the festival’s unexpected triumphs, and Ghost Stories, a spectacularly moody British ghost tale.
And then, on top of everything, Marrowbone, the latest effort from Spanish filmmaker Sergio G. Sanchez (El Orfanto) drops this month. Swoon.
Also among the April horror releases are a few horror films that look cheesy, contrived, and quite frankly, delightful! Truth or Dare promises the kind of schlocky teenage horror we all secretly enjoy (don’t lie) while Bus Party to Hell demands to be seen on the strength of its title alone. I will oblige.
Seriously, this is a great month for both quality horror and popcorn-flick fun.
Check out the trailers below.
A new year means a whole new year of fresh and creepy horror novels!
As a horror fan, it’s for me easy to focus on horror movies. Horror movies are relatively quick to consume instead of a horror novel, just as a movie is sometimes more immediately entertaining than a novel.
But there is a great deal of original, well-made horror fiction out there, crafted by authors from diverse backgrounds, points of view, and traditions. Stephen King may still rule horror fiction, but there’s plenty of room for all of the unique and unsettling tales offered by authors like Ania Ahlborn, Alma Katsu, Josh Malerman, and Paul Tremblay (King has a book out this year too, don’t worry!).
So, in keeping with my goals to raise awareness of exciting new horror fiction, I’ve put together a list of fifteen horror novels to be published in 2018. I can’t wait to read them, which is good for my New Year’s resolution to read more, but really bad for my book buying addiction. (If you’re interested in last year’s list of horror, check that out here.
After the intense year of horror movies that was 2017, I’m confident that the 2018 horror calendar will be just as full of solid and groundbreaking films.
True, there are lousy horror movies every year, but there is an undeniable upward trend of quality, well-made horror movies. This year, the 2018 horror release calendar has a bevy of goodies for us, like from horror novel adaptions Annihilation and Birdbox, the latest entry in horror franchises such as The Purge: The Island and The Nun, and brand new stories like A Quiet Place and Slaughterhouse Rulez. There’s so much I don’t really know what to be more excited for, but the new Suspiria reimagining (don’t call it a remake!) is probably the 2018 horror movie I’m most anxious for.
Tomorrow is the official kick-off of the Sundance Film Festival! That means you should get ready for a fresh round of groundbreaking, artistic, and unsettling indie horror films.
Sundance is the largest independent film festival in the United States and one of the beacons for upcoming independent horror films. Among the slate of prestigious arthouse flicks and top-tier foreign films, Sundance makes room for imaginative and innovative horror and genre films. Being the largest independent film festival in America and one of the most important film festivals in the world, Sundance provides invaluable exposure for horror films that buck the studio system and push the envelope.
All of which is great news for horror fans of all stripes.
Recently I found the time to finally read one of my most anticipated novels of 2017, The 20 Days of Turin by Giorgio De Maria. This novel was hyped as a cult classic, a prime example of Italian weird fiction that had finally been given the treatment owed to a cult classic and translated into English. Reviews and publisher blurbs hailed it as a horrifying tale that, despite being published almost forty years ago, had proven just as timely and significant as ever.
With such endorsements, I didn’t really know what to expect, since I have never read any Italian weird fiction, and the closest thing to Italian horror I’ve read was Dante’s Inferno. But the synopsis was intriguing, the cover was creepy, and I thought, what the heck?
The 20 Days of Turin turned out to be more complicated than I had anticipated. It’s part Lovecraftian horror story, part political allegory, part mystery thriller, and part sublime nightmare. This novel is a very good example of the kind of horror that focuses less on jump scares and more on weaving an insidious scheme to ensnare its reader.
Ensnare me it did. The 20 Days of Turin didn’t scare me in a way that forced me to make sure my doors and windows were locked. But it burrowed its way under my skin, and I can’t stop thinking about it.