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Curiosity Corner Reviews

The Video Nasties: A brief history of the UK’s moral panic in the 1980’s

Censorship has consistently exerted a high level of control over what is and is not acceptable to be viewed. In particular, The British Board of Film Classification (BBFC) has made sure that horror has endured a string of scrutiny for decades, leaving a trail of irony, criticism, and controversy across horror history. The BBFC is the ruling authority that has been in power since 1912 due to the Cinematograph act 1909 which regulated what films were granted permission to be screened at the cinema.

As time has progressed a series of changes has been made internally within the BBFC, with the primary alteration surrounding the changing role of the chief censor. At first, the BBFC was rather friendly with somewhat obscene material, as Chief John Trevelyan had a more open view of acceptability, take for example Ken Russel’s The Devils (1971). Trevelyan passed this film which was not shy about exposing sacrilegious imagery with an X rating. This soon transpired a series of outrage from the British Public. However, this brief enlightening of liberalization was harshly interrupted by the arrival of home video

In 1979 video players were first released in all high street shops, available to anyone. Regardless of one’s age you could view any material no matter the content as film’s did not have to go through the rigmarole of censoring. In retrospect the introduction of this marvellous invention is ground breaking, yet many mainstream distributors were more than reluctant to release any films, as they saw it as a threat to cinema and piracy infringements. This reluctance aided an influx of low budget horror films to dominate the market. TV was no longer solely there to appease family values, instead it was a chance to watch lurid and explicit content without numerous cuts and interferences. The accessibility was viewed as a major threat to the “youth of Britain’s mental health”, as supposedly these graphic horrors could literally possess children and force them to repeat the acts that they saw on screen. 

Quite understandably, this new territory could have been minutely intimidating, but the painstakingly long journey that horror went through to gain integration into the mainstream was beyond dramatically treacherous. The nation, bargained by the media, believed that these films were serious enough to be considered a moral panic, meaning that a general feeling of fear was felt across society mainly due to scaremongering and falsely constructed information. The barrage of terror was helmed by the one and only Mary Whitehouse, who for those who may not know is horror’s worst enemy. 

Whitehouse alongside the National Viewers and Listeners Association (now Mediawatch-UK) launched the Clean-up TV campaign which garnered over 500,000 signatures. The crusade gained both government and media attention very quickly, resulting in mass vexation. Soon titles such as  How High Street Horror is Invading the Home’(The Sunday Times, 1982) dominated newspapers, with The Daily Mail jumpstarting their own campaign literally called “Ban the Sadist Video”. The most ludicrous statement of them all can be seen in an interview with MP Graham Bright who states that the video nasties will even affect your family pets! Whilst every outlet was busy fabricating how these films were corrupting the youth of Britain, the actual films themselves were basking in the attention, their sales had gone through the roof. Supposedly the saying of ‘all publicity is good publicity’ is true after all. 

With the hatred was this arrival of attention which made people crave the gore even more. The fantastical cover artwork was purposefully daring, alluring audiences in with the promise of salacious material. Half of the time the covers and titles were far more smutty than the films could ever be. For example, The Toolbox Murders (Dennis Donnelly, 1978) vividly presents a nude woman crouched in front of a masked man wielding a phallically held drill. But the moral campaigners decided to forgo actually watching the content to decipher the actual material, apparently the cover was enough alone to ban this film

This judgemental notion was truly enforced once Whitehouse, alongside PM Margaret Thatcher, and MP Gareth Wardell had briefly introduced a harsher version of the already implicated Obscene Publication Act 1959 (OPA act), which saw the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) create a list of films that breached the OPA act, the list was modified monthly and at one point featured 72 titles including the now classics Cannibal Holocuast (Ruggero Deodato, 1980), I Spit on Your Grave (Meir Zarchi, 1978), and The Last House on the Left (Wes Craven, 1972). The list proved faulty, but instead of rationalising the seriousness of the ‘issue’ the panic continued to surge, resulting in The Videos Recording Act 1984  (VRA Act) being introduced. From this point on copious films were illegal to sell, with video shops selling such material even facing jail time alongside a hefty fine and license stripping. 

With this, the video nasties were officially born. The arrival of the VRA act was damning for future productions, but what truly cast their baptism as dreadful films tainting the scoundrels who dared to watch them was the comedic irony of the whole situation. The papers who blasted the nasties were so strict and constant in their abuse that naturally, the public conformed to what they were being told. In the 1980s there was no social media to get a second opinion, the views were majorly swayed. The moral panic was gradually slowed due to the VRA, with the nasties becoming old news. It wasn’t until years later when these films began to emerge from the pits of darkness (where they supposedly belong), and although horror is home to some pretty grim material some films have still never been released uncut

The nasties are gone but not forgotten. Villainizing a film is effective to a degree if you are sat on the opposite side, but eventually, the opposition will fall. Brainwashing the public to see the nasties as detrimental undoubtedly worked, yet it is widely known that the peddle pushing did not revolve entirely around the content; the threat of the unknown stayed close within the BBFC’s peripheral, these people were comfortable with their right lifestyle, and the nasties that had injected themselves into Britain’s mainstream were mainly Italian and American produced, showing a whole new set of cultural values. The conformity of the ‘known’ was breaking down, thus forcing traditional British values to be malleable and no longer set in stone. The fear did not solely surround the content of the nasties, but instead the alarm was rung due to the uncharted territory that the films invited in

Within the current climate, one can view whatever material they wish at the click of a keypad. The iceberg system of disturbing horror would have genuinely caused an entire breakdown across the country if films such as A Serbian Film (Srdjan Spasojevic, 2010) had been released in Britain back then. Even in this day and age, Spasojevic’s exploration into exploitation cinema had major issues with censorship from the BBFC, with multiple cuts being necessary for a release. Audiences are still being tested to this day, many films including A Serbian Film are not overly controversial in comparison to some of horror’s most daring ventures, take for example The Bunny Game (Adam Rehmeier, 2010). Rehmeier is the creator of one of the most harrowing tales legal cinema has ever seen.

The Bunny Game has been rejected for release in multiple countries including the UK and America, with its strong emphasis on violence against women and unstimulated scenes being too much for censors to handle. Matching this level of violence is Grotesque (Koji Shiraishi, 2009), which gives Takasi Miike’s reputation as Japan’s most controversial director a run for its money. Over time the craving for particularly gruesome horror has soared with many directors battling it out to try and test the boundaries as much as possible. 

What can be taken away from the video nasty era is the sense of miscontrol that the genre really has. Although profits have soared and popularity has grown there will always be a stigma against the content. The nasties are a reminder that liberalization within cinema is still a touchy subject.

The days of the nasties seem so long ago, but instead of that section of history being dead and buried it seems that censorship lives on, not necessarily through the BBFC but through public attitudes to the weird and wonderful world of horror.

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Reviews

The Howling (1981): A Retrospective 40 Years On

The figure of the werewolf habitually ignites a viscerally violent vision of one’s own inner self; bestial, carnalous and rage filled. The werewolf is a staple in the long list of monsters that has been constructed throughout time, with its counterparts being vampires, ghouls, witches, and zombies (all continuously appearing in the Halloween costume aisles for years).

The significant prevalence of the creature of the wolf has lied within mythology dating back to ancient paganist times. This rurality and earthliness that the werewolf obtains in defying against systematic patriarchalism only contributes to the enhancement of the monster. 

The generalized mythology of werewolves is one that has injected itself into horror for decades now, with Universal Pictures releasing Werewolf of London (Stuart Walker, 1935), followed by The Wolf Man (George Waggner, 1941). Through early cinema acknowledging the transgressive nature of werewolves, the monster has adapted and has become rather indispensable within horror. One film that entirely embraces the creature’s violation of societal norms is Joe Dante’s The Howling (1981). 

The Howling follows Karen (Dee Wallace), a television news anchor who travels to a secluded resort (known as the ‘Colony’) with her husband Bill (Christopher Stone) to treat her amnesia after a brutal attack. At first glance the Colony is a scenic place of calmful bliss, where Karen can heal from her trauma. However, little do they know  the resort is inhabited by bloodthirsty werewolves. Dante’s reputation for ‘over the top’, comedy filled horror’s began in 1978 with Piranha.

Although many audiences at the time were slightly dissatisfied with the aim of creating a purpose built b-movie, retrospectively Piranha is beloved as a cult classic. The Howling which was adapted from a 1977 poem written by Gary Brandner deters almost entirely from its source material, but the drifting certainly works in its favour. Rather than sticking to the basis of the poem, Dante along with writer John Sayles concocted a self-aware script brimming with a heavy satirical attitude. 

Forty years after its release the film still has a good bite. The lashing’s of referential nods to cinema is a delight to watch, as many characters are named after directors who dipped into lycanthropic films including The Curse of the Werewolf (1961) creator Terence Fisher. Besides those more obvious inner jokes is a series of ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moments such as Dante’s inclusion of the book Howl (Allen Ginsberg) on the counter, as well as wolf based artwork featuring throughout the Colony. Matching the witty gags is the overt exposition of dramatic themes such as assault, trauma, adultery, violence, and perversion. But instead of presenting the film as a crucifying tale of sorrow and cruelty, Dante paints the scene in an entertaining yet aware tone. 

The Howling stays true to 1980s horror, as the above mentioned pinnacle points are enveloped in spontaneously fun scenes. The iconic scene featuring Bill and the nymphomaniac werewolf Marsha (Elisabeth Brooks) ‘making the beasts with two backs’ exudes a prominent animalistic energy that werewolves are known for. Their joint transfiguration into their true wolf form symbolically stands for the breaking of bodily barriers that mere humans are physically incapable of performing. The Howling focuses on glamorizing the viciousness of werewolves; they can transgress further than any other being ever could. To a certain extent they allow their darkest urges to take over, through baring their fur and erecting their claws.

Although The Howling embraces this Freudian concept of inner identity, Dante refuses to succumb to pure psychology. We do not feel as if we are watching a harrowing tale of bestial passion, but instead a zealous exploration into horror’s most entertaining creature

The Howling creates this amusing aesthetic through its quick pacing and energy that certainly packs a punch. Each scene bounces to the next in a successful attempt to avoid a moment of dullness. Accompanying the lively stride that Dante infuses throughout is the noteworthy practical effects that still hold up to this day. Despite the marvellous technology that allows for filmmakers to have great freedom in their films, there is something very special about old school practical makeup effects that take centre stage.

The character design of the werewolves focuses on exaggerating their hunched backs, long tails, matted fur and signature facial features. The creatures of the Colony were made at the hands of Rob Bottin. Across his career Bottin has worked with John Carpenter on The Fog (1980) and The Thing (1982), and has received a Special Achievement Award at the 1991 Academy Awards. Bottin had to take over from Rick Baker after he left production to work on An American Werewolf in London (John Landis, 1981), despite this brief setback Bottin excelled in creating graphically gruesome beasts. One particular look that remains acclaimed to this day is the transformation of Eddie Quist (Robert Picardo). His metamorphosis into a werewolf avoided the use of camera tricks and relied upon creative ploys such as employing the use of ‘air bladder’ effects to give the illusion of flesh swelling and bursting. 

The Howling went on to produce a further seven films, all following a similar basis. The future of the franchise is still being developed as Netflix has joined forces with Andy Muschietti (It) to create a direct remake of the 1981 film. Not much can be said for the various sequels as they are all missing that certain spark that Dante so perfectly captured in the original. It is difficult to pinpoint what allows The Howling to still hold onto its success a whole forty years later, perhaps it was Dante’s unique take on creating a bizarre land of misfit scenarios, or even the film’s moving storyline that is still relevant. But one thing is for sure, it’s hard to come across a werewolf film so embellished in meaning, whilst also relishing in pure bloodshed and chaos! 

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Reviews

Review: Fear Street Part Three: 1666

In a bold move Fear Street Part Three: 1666 travels back in time to the 1600s, a period plagued by witch trials that saw countless women being executed due to falsified mass hysteria. Although the Fear Street trilogy prefers to stay on the slasher path, the inclusion of bygone times inserted a rich narrative history that prevented the film from falling flat and suffering from a shallow ending

Fear Street: 1666 begins where we left off in Part Two: 1978, as Deena (in 1994 present time) is shown the real story of Shadyside’s local legend Sarah Fier, a witch who was hung from a tree and cursed the soil beneath the town. Across the flashback we see Fier and her brother Henry live peacefully in a small settlement known as Union, which would go on to be the grounds of Sunnyvale and Shadyside. The commune is bound by archetypal laws surrounding pilgrim beliefs, therefore when the local pastor suddenly kills the town’s children the sole cause of his madness must be down to witchcraft. To make matters more damning, Fier and the pastor’s daughter Hannah begin a forbidden affair, thus enforcing the belief that they are the dark force behind the pastor’s breakdown. 

FEAR STREET PART 3: 1666 (Pictured) KIANA MADEIRA as SARAH FIER. NETFLIX © 2021

The film divulges a heavy subplot surrounding Fier’s actual lack of malice and the conceited misfire concerning her execution. Fear Street: 1666 is laden with bolshy twists that are not afraid of bullying the audience into submissiveness. If we were to write down the story beats and major plot twists it would be a convulsed mess. But director Leigh Janiak makes it work, mostly due to the impeccable set design that has every intention to immerse us into the world of Fear Street, but also primarily due to the thoroughly written characters whose arcs never become dull, or predictable. However, this riveting grab that these characters have on us wouldn’t be as strong if it was not for the striking performances

At the end of 1978 the preview revealed that the land of Union would be made up of characters who we’ve already seen throughout the previous films. They would be playing their ancestral versions of themselves. Upon first glance I was not entirely enthusiastic about this idea as truly I was excited to see some fresh faces, nevertheless, Kiana Madeira (Deena), Ashley Zukerman (Nick), Gillian Jacobs (Ziggy), Olivia Scott Welch (Sam), and Benjamin Flores Jr. (Josh) all took to their roles with ease. The same thing however cannot be said for the abominable Irish accents that they had to put on. Though I’ve decided to pardon that, as I suppose you could say that the dialect tone could be a translation of early settlement accents? Yeah, we’ll go with that… 

FEAR STREET PART 3: 1666 – McCABE SLYE as MAD THOMAS. Cr: Netflix © 2021

Moving on, the pacing thrives across the first act, and as we reach a good bubbling point of tension towards the middle, the film does a 180 and reverts us back to the present (1994), with the title card simply reading 1994 Part II. It certainly came as a shock as the narrative was very much on a roll. But, the disappointment over an abrupt halt soon diminishes as 1994 Part II brings a whole new outlook to the series.

Across the first two films and most of 1666, the plot mainly relied on the mystery of events, with the story encompassing the history of Shadyside, as well as how to defeat the curse, how to get Sam back, and how to put Fier’s rage to rest. 1994 Part II decides to not wallow in the copious ‘hows?’ Instead it finally dishes out the answers and exposes the secrets we’ve been waiting for this whole time. Coupled with the long-awaited revelations is 1994’s aesthetic that focuses on encapsulating 90s iconography through stylizing nearly every scene in vivid neon lighting and having the final battle be in a mall. Although the second half is a visual world away from the earthy land of Union the juxtaposition works and keeps the setting very exciting.

Across the Fear Street trilogy Janiak has had no issue in cementing an intrinsically rich backstory that undoubtedly anchors on the marriage between patriarchy and sorrow. Without divulging into spoilers, Fier’s death was not as simple as a hanging due to witchcraft, alternatively, her demise was met thanks to the Union’s fear of emasculation and the creation of marginalised groups. Furthering the tone of malevolent connotations of good natured people perceived as evil is the Fear Street killers. 

1994 and 1978 established that these gruesome murderers did not transform into immoral beings on their own, they were possessed and unaware of their actions. Essentially the turn of their possession resulted in their death as if their skin was a suit in which corruption could flourish in disguise. The caring Tommy who turned into the Camp Nightwing murderer was not consciously committing these acts, neither were Ruby Lane, and Ryan Torres (Skull Mask). These disempowered beings were convicted for no fault of their own, similarly to Fier’s fatal end. 


The opinion that modern horror cinema is soaked with faults is one that I do not agree with. In fact, there are countless films that will still be discussed in years to come that have only been recently released. The Fear Street trilogy proves that the nostalgic spark that many are unable to find in newer horror films is achievable once again. The trilogy may not be to everyone’s taste, but it certainly was to mine. Everything from the timing of the releases, down to the quintessential details was exemplary, and I will sorely miss not being able to get a new slice of Fear Street every Friday.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Reviews

Review: Fear Street Part Two 1978


Fear Street Part Two: 1978 presents itself as a throwback to 1970s summer camp slaughters, swarmed with cold-blooded kills, a jukebox-worthy soundtrack, and self-aware imitations. Luckily enough this ambition sequel is a worthy component to its predecessor, unlike many slasher sequels… What could have been a muddled backstory is instead a richly original yet bombastically brave referential take on sunshine-filled woodsy horror

This singing praise is no exaggeration. I was as hesitant about Fear Street: 1978 just as much as everyone else. When a new flashy horror film lands it can lose that certain spark that many individual independent films grace the screen with, but when Fear Street: 1994 arrived on the scene a certain harmony in streaming originals was restored. However, as solid as Part One was the Fear Street Trilogy director Leigh Janiak hadn’t completely won me over just yet as the trailers and teasers for 1978 promised a heck of a lot. Rest assured my initial hesitation was soon thrown over once the real bite of the film began.

The overtly effective sequel is one that proudly admires the subgenres’ mistakes and baskes in the stereotypical characters and story beats. Particularly the setting. 

FEAR STREET PART 2: 1978 – Cr: Netflix © 2021

Camp Nightwing is everything that sounds like a nightmare to me; bratty teen hierarchies, constant group activities, and overbearing camp counsellors who in no way should be in charge. Fear Street: 1978 could be overbearing with its obvious nods to Friday the 13th, Sleepaway Camp, The Burning, and Madman, the originality aspect is a touchy point here, but what disperses from these inspirational nods is a fresh look at a supposed joyous social environment turning into an isolated hellscape painted with brutal kills and a mad axeman on the loose.

Paving the way for the final film of the trilogy is 1978’s great storytelling journey that takes the series’ unconventional time loop and creates a smoothly flowing adventure back in time. The end of 1994 saw Deena (Kiana Madeira) and Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.) under threat from the newly possessed Sam (Olivia Scott Welch). The sequel picks up straight away from the ending as they make their way to the recluse C. Berman (Gillian Jacobs), who survived seeing the witch back in the Camp Nightwing Massacre. Christine has become a nervous shell of a person, but she still musters up the courage to tell Deena and Josh the blood-curdling story of how mountains of dead bodies collected over just one night. The simple baseline of the massacre is rich and heavy with subplots and exposition, but Janiak also throws in a revenge tale of an archaic witch, ‘present day’ timelines, and looped character origin stories for good measure. 

The nearly two hour runtime did not bear a grudge and weather over the course, alternatively, I would have gladly sat through another hour to grasp more and more of what the history of Shadyside has to offer. 

What further tickles the intrigue is the mysterious whodunnit nature of the story, except the conundrum is not based on who the killer is, but who the survivor is. The present day Berman does not overtly reveal what her position was in the story, the only information we score is that she is one of the two sisters that the story focuses on. Across the film, we are rooting for both of them, but unfortunately, it is all wishful thinking as ultimately we know that one of them will suffer a brutal death. It is this exact toying that kept me on the edge of my seat, unlike many horror’s there is not much hope and everyone really is at risk. 


Fear Street: 1978 is reminiscent of a campfire tale, one that would be told in a large group in your scariest voice, paired with the classic torch under the chin for optimum scares. It’s the perfect slasher for the new generation of horror watchers or even those who fancy something old in a new fashion.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Original vs remake Reviews

Original vs. Remake: Friday the 13th

Friday the 13th has become ceremoniously linked to the birth of 1980s horror. From amateur viewers to horror connoisseurs the character of Jason Voorhees rings familiar, primarily due to the Friday the 13th franchise spawning twelve films and the fact that altogether the series has grossed approximately $755 million, but what truly endorses the slasher’s core reputation is it’s kickstarting of sleazy, rampant, and violent horror’s that progressed into one of the most dominating subsections of the genre. 

The birth of the slasher is tricky to nail, as truthfully John Carpenter brought the essentialities to the forefront in 1978 with the knife-wielding maniacal Michael Myers in Halloween. Whilst Halloween was crowned by critics, Friday the 13th was torn apart in reviews. Despite the lack of applause Sean S. Cunningham’s conduction of a summer of nightmares has grown into an absolute sensation. 

The financial success of previous horror films pinged a lightbulb in a young Cunningham, who had previously worked with Wes Craven on The Last House On the Left (1972). It seems harsh to call the beloved Friday the 13th a cash grab, but at the roots, that is what it was. In 1979 Cunningham with no legal trademarking over the title placed an advert in Variety for the film (pictured above). At this point, the production team was not established, nor were any locations, actors, or equipment.

This really was a wild chance, luckily enough it paid off with independent financers flooding in to score on this soon-to-be hit. From this point on, the history of Friday the 13th was written, with the film thriving in its banal dialogue, cringe acting, gratuitous nudity, cliched characters, and jump scare ending. The corniness could be easily perceived as crude schlock, but its self-aware texture and bendy edges make the film loveable and a true iconic cult classic. 

The overarching stylisation is what has kept Friday the 13th on its pedestal, primarily thanks to special effects artist and makeup designer Tom Savini. Savini was already celebrated thanks to his work in Dawn of the Dead (George A. Romero, 1978), and in Friday the 13th his talent was only further exhibited, with his depiction of some of horror’s most notorious kills being down to his staggering creations. Through his work, Jason was born. Originally in Victor Miller’s script Jason’s mother Pamela would be the sole antagonist. Her fatal decapitation was the end of the chaos, with Alice’s (Adrienne King) appearance in the boat ending the film. The ending we all know and love was nowhere to be found. That was until Savini noted that Carrie’s (Brian De Palma, 1976) jumpscare ending left a mark on the viewer.

Jason’s deformed entrance belonged to Savini, and rightly so, as Voorhees disfigured front gave a lingering spark to the film. The fear factor across the film won’t necessarily leave you with nightmares, but Alice’s dream of a mutilated Jason leaping out of the water and grabbing her by the throat to drag her down into the dark grubby waters goes straight for the jugular and ensures an impact is made. 

Concerning Friday the 13th’s most intrinsically complex element is the breakage of the masculine stalker convention, as Jason’s mother Pamela (Betsy Palmer) is Camp Crystal Lake’s grounds-killer. Her motivation revolves around vengeance, as she gets her comeuppance against the neglectful camp counsellors who let Jason drown due to their own selfish desires. Since Jason’s death Pamela has ensured that the grounds of Crystal Lake were abandoned, and whoever dared to set foot on the soil met a tragic death, as revealed in the first act by the locals.

As much as Jason circles the entire franchise, Pamela is the creator of this destruction, her damning degree of psychosis is the catalyst across the entire film. As unconventional as the villain is, what we know and love about the Friday the 13th franchise is the character of Jason, that’s not to say that the deeper conceptual levels of maternal devotion are not appreciated, in fact, Part II and Part III take aim at the seedy underbelly of his madness, but in Part I there is a slight lack of flashy barbarity that Jason brings to the table unlike anyone else. 

The 2009 remake targets the story portrayed in the 1980 original, but it also elicits Jason as the primary destructor. The first four films in the franchise conjure an intense mythos, and rather than banning any of this build-up in the remake, director Marcus Nispel dives into the deep end and packs these four films into one giant reimagining. 

Nispel’s creates a lean, vibrant, ambitious, and dramatic take on Cunningham and Miller’s slasher. The remake is not entirely monotonous, yet the gory facade is just that, a veil. Do not expect tense thrills as this horror is not necessarily a landmark in genre cinema, instead, its consensus still remains rather negative. Certain criticised factors are understandable, but then again there are some brief and hidden moments of distinction wavering across the 1hr 46min runtime. 

The first aspect that battles against the criticism is the stellar opening scene that shows Jason (Derek Mears) at his most ruthless. The film opens with a brief backstory of Jason watching his mother’s beheading, feeding his killer drive. Flash forward to thirty years later we see a group of friends as they venture into Camp Crystal Lake to search for marijuana crops. As night falls, tents are set up and their debaucheries begin, but Jason arrives on the scene and the peace is truly disturbed as the camp becomes a bloodbath once again.

Multiple deaths occur within the first twenty minutes, setting the path for the rest of the film. The opener takes great and memorable moments from previous films and amps them up to create a gritty, twisted first act. The iconic sleeping bag kill in Friday the 13th VII: The New Blood (1988) is recreated, but instead of the fatal blow being a whack against the tree, we see his victim hanging from a tree in a sleeping bag burning alive over a roaring campfire. The human-toasted marshmallow is not the only feisty punch thrown in the opening, as we are also treated to hacked-up bodies, nasty bear traps to the ankles, and a clean machete blow straight to the forehead. 

Although these deaths are pretty gruesome and entertaining for fellow horror nerds, the film does reach its peak here. The enthusiasm for exhilarating bursts drops and there isn’t any remaining mitigating factors, besides the overall ‘look’ of the film, but style over substance isn’t enough to cut it.

It seems that the general opinion concerning the mixed bunch of personalities tends to lean towards the cynical side. No one is particularly likeable and minus three people, they are all extremely irritating, verging on the side of unbearable. In homage to the original, the gender roles are switched as there is no final girl, instead, we follow Clay Miller (Jared Padalecki) as he attempts to hunt down his missing sister Whitney (Amanda Righetti), who was one of the campers in the opening scene. Across his journey, he stumbles across Jenna (Danielle Panabaker), her boyfriend Trent (Travis Van Winkle), and their friends Chelsea (Willa Ford), Bree (Julianna Guill), Chewie (Aaron Yoo), Nolan (Ryan Hansen), and Lawrence (Arlen Escarpeta).

Trent and his posse travel to his rich parent’s cabin bordering Crystal Lake and soon chaos breaks loose. The plot remains very bland and overdone. We could have been spared some boredom by creating some real inner tension, and by making the characters more than just docile bodies waiting to be flayed

Their dialogue is beyond laughable, as the majority of their lines wouldn’t be out of place in a slapstick comedy. The “stupendous” female characters are portrayed as nothing but eye-candy, and the men (besides Clay) follow them along like drooling puppies. It’s funny at first, but the humour soon wears off when the film acts like a horror version of American Pie


The original is not a perfect film, but it is beloved. For what definitive reason I’m not entirely sure, but the creepy atmosphere, combined with good old practical effects still holds up to this day, which is only furthered by the nostalgic factor. And although the remake attempts to claw away from the typical ‘cat and mouse’ game that Jason plays by throwing in a hostage story, it ultimately falls flat.

Cunningham’s Friday the 13th is perfect for a sentimental fun watch when you’re in the mood for an energetic slasher. Nispel’s re-envision is great as a popcorn movie, but that’s it, its reputation hasn’t soared nor has it gained too much of a following. So in this battle of original vs remakes, 1980 smashes it out of the park!

Love to read more about the iconic horror villain? Check out our article on Jason Voorhees here.

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Reviews

Review: Fear Street Part One: 1994

The slasher subgenre has done for horror what Shakespeare did for playwriting. It’s that precise allure that accompanies the stalk and kill system, whilst revelling in motive, victim strategies, and exposing the cathartic sense of relief when a fatal conclusion is met, although the joyous reaction could be towards the killer just as much as the victim.

There’s a reason as to why the 1980s and early 1990s were indoctrinated with splatters, slashers, and schlock, it was exhilarating and constant, and now from a retrospective point these frameworks still exist, but it has become even more prevalent on the extension of tributes and commemoration

The Fear Street trilogy displays exactly that, a keen sense of nostalgia whilst still maintaining a fresh balance of new tactics and modern archetypes. 

Based on R.L. Stine’s Fear Street novels is Leigh Janiak’s ‘Fear Street Part One: 1994’ which follows an amalgamation of various books from the series to create one giant story that will be historically linked in the next two films. The basic premise follows a group of adolescents who must battle off Sarah Fier (Elizabeth Scopel), a ‘deceased’ witch who has put a damning curse on the town of Shadyside prior to being executed during the witch trials.

Although the collective outline relies upon an ancient curse placed in the 1660s, Fear Street: 1994 is very much alive and thriving. Beginning the film is a sequence that can describe the film as a whole. The opening shot sets up the atmosphere nicely, as we see book store employee Heather (Maya Hawke), working late one night in an eerily empty mall, with the only sense of life coming from beaming neon lights strewn across the food court (immediately reminding me of Stranger Things). In typical fashion, her loneliness is soon met with an alarmingly loud phone ringing, a fake jumpscare, shadows lurking, and then finally a masked killer wearing a Ghostface-esque gown appears and murders who we believed was going to be our final girl. If you thought that this sounded overly familiar to Casey Becker’s (Drew Barrymore) fatal opening scene in Scream (1996) then you’d be correct! 

FEAR STREET PART 1: 1994 – (L-R) JULIA REHWALD as KATE, FRED HECHINGER as SIMON and KIANA MADEIRA as DEENA . Cr: Netflix © 2021

Feeding off of horror’s most tactful tropes is Janiak’s somehow unique crafting of frankly overdone clichés, allowing for optimal attention-grabbing moments. Combine this rose-tinted nostalgia with exhilarating characters then we really have a go-getter of a film. It’s with this that I’ll move onto my next point, the cracking twists and turns. Without spoiling any sordid details I do have to admit that I was seriously impressed with the relationships amongst the characters, with Janiak not becoming too complacent in saving who the audience is naturally drawn to, nothing is sacred and no one is off-limits.

Our motley crew of teens consists of Deena (Kiana Madeira), and her brother Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.), alongside her two friends Kate (Julia Rehwald) and Simon (Fred Hechinger) who must battle Sarah Fier and her army of killers to save Deena’s estranged girlfriend Sam (Olivia Scott Welch) from a dreadful fate. Together they make a mishmash group where none of them fall into the place of the jock, the blonde, the smart one, the skeptic, or the final girl. Yes, the tween Josh does have more criminal knowledge than the normal boy, and Deena does have some inner ruthlessness that embodies ‘the last one left alive’ emblem, but all in all, there is a clear and successful attempt at rustling up the unexpected and allowing everyone to shine, not just the ‘lead’. 

Fear Street: 1994 understands it’s alterations to the classic slasher, but it also comprehends what makes the film stand out from current ‘blockbusters’, which consequently originates in the harsh gore exposed throughout. I for one have a neutral outlook on the graphicness in a horror film, there are a plethora of tense films that only sparsely rely on bloodshed to affect the viewer, and then there are outstanding films that secrete slaughter from start to finish. However, Fear Street: 1994 definitely took the visually mature path, with Janiak dismissing any prior beliefs that this would be tame in any shape or form. 

The killers presented in this first entry are the Skull Mask Killer, The Camp Nightwing Killer, and Ruby Lane, all of who deliver noteworthy scares throughout. The cult-like culmination of very different antagonists could be messy if in the wrong hands, yet there’s that slight animosity that accompanies their very brief backstory that allows for their quick-paced appearances to be short and snappy, with the focus constantly remaining on the Deena and the gang.

As much as I’ve discussed this slasher aspect, especially in terms of the film’s inextricable character-based narrative, an unorthodox element that pushes Fear Street to feed off of the flexibility of horror is the inclusion of the occult. Shadyside has been jinxed by Fier’s wickedness and with that comes an interesting backstory that is nicely touched upon, but not fully delved into. However, instead of being irate over the briefness, we only end up more excited for the following two films. 

Fear Street Part Two: 1978 and Fear Street Part Three: 1666 will both be released one week after another, promising much more carnage, curveballs, and adrenaline-pumping scares.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Original vs remake Reviews

Original vs. Remake: The Hills Have Eyes


Within the current cinema climate lies a deeply debated sub section that has been seeding itself into horror for quite some time now. If you weren’t aware of it already, the interception operation of remakes has been turning every classic on its head and injecting the old with some new. Although some of the re-envisioning’s have been lacking that certain magic that allowed their predecessor to shine, many of these modern takes are rightly renowned. A prime example of this being The Hills Have Eyes. 

The Carter family, comprising of mother and father Bob (Russ Grieve), and Ethel (Virginia Vincent), and their three children Brenda (Susan Lanier), Bobby (Robert Houston), and Lynne (Dee Wallace), and Lynne’s Husband, Doug (Martin Speer), and their baby Katy (Brenda Marinoff) all gather for a group road trip holiday to see the sights of Los Angeles. Whilst enroute they stop in Nevada at a dingy gas station, where Fred (John Steadman) warns them to explicitly stay on the main road, but Bob knows best and detours, resulting in them being stranded after a crash. As night falls, a sickening group of teetering cannibals take advantage of the Carter’s isolation, and assault, kill, and torture several members of the family. 

When we look back on exploitation cinema of the 1970s, the immediate highlights include The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974), I Spit on Your Grave (Meir Zarchi, 1978), and another entry from Craven, The Last House on the Left (1972). These films all have a soaring reputation, and understandably so. I cannot compare idolised films such as Texas Chainsaw with The Hills Have Eyes, but I can comment upon the film as having exceptionally dark tones that keep it in the horror hall of fame. The basic premise of a suburban family stranded in the blazing desert is one that is now a trope, but that current cliché once was fresh and energising, particularly when Craven used the picturesque view to juxtapose the violent imagery.

This daytime approach was eerie. There were no haunted mansions, masked killers, knife wielding escapists, or ghostly spirits, instead it was an equally discontented bunch of folk, ruthless and ready for blood. Craven’s approach of an open bright setting is relentlessly daunting, with the sandy hills seeming endless. There is no hope of someone coming by to rescue them, there is no chance of the scorching sun cooling, and even worse, there is no one there to save them if anything goes awry…

Craven took inspiration from the story of the Sawney Bean tribe who would hunt and eat their victims. Once the tribe had been arrested they were tortured, burnt and hanged by so-called ‘civilised’ vigilantes. The synchronization of the cruel acts from the deranged, and the vicious acts from the ‘normal’ provides a mischievously deep commentary on the barbarism of human nature. Relating to this is the notion of ‘urbanoia’ developed by Carol Clover.

Here the archetypes of normality are abandoned once the city is left behind, as societal rules no longer exist, including hygiene expectations, sexual boundaries, social cues, and an understanding of clear thought. The overall ecological constraints of the world are obsolete, and it’s through this that the chaos ensues in the film between the Carter’s and their depraved counterparts. 

Within this division of right and wrong lies the moral question of who is worse. Yes, the cannibals committed savage acts, yet so did the Carter’s as a means of revenge. If pen was on paper both groups are morally wrong. However, Craven carefully creates a strong character arc for the primary members of the dynasty, particularly Ruby (Janus Blythe) and Pluto (Michael Berryman), which in turn creates a slight form of fan gratitude towards their presence.

Similarly to how we fight for Jason, feel sorrow for Michael, and are cheer Freddy, it can be said that we somehow root for the fighter, no matter their actions due to the reputation that has been garnered over time. Of course the acts are horrendous, but the fight between good and evil is what we’re watching the film for in the first place. 

Contrasting against this is the 2006 remake that follows closely to the original but has a stronger focus on villainising the antagonists, and refining the gritty aesthetics to create a discourse drenched in blood, dripping in backstory, and focusing on the brutality of the debilitatingly vile tyrants. The homage to the original is clear, with Craven himself conjuring the idea of a remake in the first place. Upon seeing the success of other adaptations he scoured for a director with that certain aptness for creating the absurd, which soon led him to Alexandre Aja who had recently directed the French extremism horror, High Tension (2003). Craven and Aja made an outstanding duo, with dare I say it the remake surpassing the original

This brave statement needs backing, and although the original was not cluttered with flaws it has suffered with brittle bones as time had slightly aged it. Through no fault of the film the characters on reflection do suffer slightly from genericness, and the cannibal appearances in consideration of today’s visuals were lacking a particular ferociousness. What the remake did was hone in on what makes the 1977 film such a classic, with the financial and cult success of Aja’s vision being almost entirely thanks to Craven’s original innovation. For example, the idea of a neglected family left to become beastial is terrifying, but what if their feral nature was the result of something much more contrived? 

Aja sets this tone by opening the film with a scene showing scientists testing the desert ground for radiation levels as Pluto interrupts and kills them with a pickaxe. Later on it is implied that Pluto and his clan’s deformities were caused by nuclear radiation experiments performed by the government. Across the film we are graced with multiple appearances from the deformed deviants. Their monstrous appearances are greatly effective, with bulbous foreheads and skin mutations daring us to not turn away at the hideousness of it all.

Any form of connection that was established in the original is abandoned as there is literally no way that we can relate to them. And it’s not only their physical features that catalyse detest, it’s their harsh actions that go above and beyond the remorseless activity that occurred in the original. The infamous torture scene where the Carter’s are attacked in the trailer is massively amplified as we are forced to witness a jarring scene where Doug and Lynn’s baby has a weapon raised to its infant head. Lets just say that the level of inhumanity that Aja dares to show is potent.

Furthering the peaks of malevolence is the fine detail that is sharpened through Aja’s modernisation. The defined camerawork is a far cry from the shaky pans that featured heavily in Craven’s piece (albeit it added to the exploitation). Through the tuned cinematography we are treated with stunning chiaroscuro effects during the night scenes, particularly that distressing scene where Bob meets his fatal end. The vivid visuals allow for a visceral impact that lingers long after watching.

My praise for this remake is owed entirely to the original works. Aja writes a clear love letter to Craven’s stellar execution of familial chaos. It is this clear combination of stigmatising themes and gut wrenching exhibitions that casts a carefully constructed ode to what was Craven’s jumping start to his genre defining career. 

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News Reviews

The best horror films and shows streaming right now

Have you found yourself aimlessly scrolling across streaming services looking for something just right, but you always end up chucking on your usual comfort movie? Well look no further! Here is our compiled list of the best devilishly dark gems across all of your favorite sites.

Netflix 

1- The Invitation (Karyn Kusama, 2015)

In the sunset-stricken mansions of Hollywood Hills lies one of horror’s most foreboding, menacing and cryptically creepy dinner parties, as we see an awkward gathering twist into a fatal soiree. We follow Will (Logan Marshall-Green), and his girlfriend Kira (Emayatzy Corinealdi), as they travel to Will’s ex-wife Eden’s (Tammy Blanchard) house for a dinner party to reacquaint with old friends, but Eden and her new husband David (Michiel Huisman) have alternative plans for the evening.

What makes The Invitation so inviting is Kusama’s favouring of subtle terror that gradually unease’s the senses, rather than numerous jump scares to affect the audience. This allure of anxious situations melts throughout the film, with our own irrational thoughts about unsteady situations guiding our emotional response. The Invitation is doused in secrets, and for this reason I will remain brief, but I can reveal that this film will tease your own experiences with grief, guilt and denial to create an experience that stays with you long after watching.

2- Creep (Patrick Brice, 2014)

Creep has soared across the genre, earning itself quite the reputation, however it is nowhere near discussed enough. The entanglement of a character-based study filmed using the found-footage technique is not to be underestimated, as Creep has some of modern horror’s most spine tingling moments. The film follows Aaron (Brice), who accepts a quick job to be Josef’s (Mark Duplass) videographer for the day. Josef has been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour and wants to make a video diary for his unborn child with his wife Angela, in the form of living on past his death.

Brice toys with Josef’s motives, with the audience not being sure whether he really is this hopeless being or whether he hides a much darker secret. Either way, we know that something is not right. The film is coy with its exposition and is actually rather quiet as the narrative primarily focuses on Josef’s ambiguous speeches. Creep has since gone on to produce an equally effective sequel, and a third film is in the running.

3- Extra Ordinary (Enda Loughman & Mike Ahern, 2019)

Filmed and set in rural Ireland is Ahern and Loughman’s directorial debut, Extra Ordinary, which is a hilarious take on the classic ghost possession story. The film focuses on Rose (Maeve Higgins), a lonely driving instructor who possesses unique supernatural powers. However, her abilities have remained dormant ever since an unfortunate accident killed her father. This is until one day when the helpless Martin (Barry Ward) contacts her to banish the spirit of his annoying dead wife.

Extra Ordinary is blessed with the unusual cinematic grant to equally tackle its horror components just as much as the humour. The film packs a weighty punch, allowing for an extremely memorable watch. To meet the film’s devilishly delightful vocations is the performances by both Higgins and Ward, who together form the ideal ghostbusting duo. Extra Ordinary drives on the line of quirky situations, irreverent laughs, and most importantly good old fashioned scares.

4- American Mary (Jen and Sylvia Soska, 2012)

Gruesome body horror and ruthless revenge plots meet in the Soska sisters’ flesh hungry tale of alternative lifestyles. The film centers upon desperate surgical student Mary (Katharine Isabelle), who after struggling with debts decides to use her skills to perform extreme body modification surgeries. But, after a horrific assault, she uses her new found side hustle to seek revenge.

American Mary is as eccentric as it sounds, as marginalised subjects such as body modifications are a major driving force in the film’s innate spell of forcing the audiences to gaze upon a scary but dream-like world. The film is set in modern day, but the drastic appearances cast an air of hypnotizing bewilderment. Alongside this is the gorefest that the Soska’s do not shy away from, resulting in a perplexing, macabre, and grisly enactment of the defiance of societal norms

5- Black Summer (created by Karl Schaefer and John Hymams, 2019-) 

The slow drawling zombies of horror classics are point blank terrifying, but what’s even worse is when these human hungry beasts are rapid and chaotic. This terrifying combination is horrifically exhibited in Black Summer, Netflix own take on a post apocalyptic world. Rooted at the heart of Black Summer is a treacherous tale of a mothers love, as we follow Rose (Jamie King), who has been separated from her daughter in the midst of the zombie attacks. But, Rose rises up and struggles through a miserable journey in a bid to find her lost child. Across the two seasons the show swarms off and dips into additional sub plots, forcing the viewer to not pause for one moment. Furthering the hecticness is the frenzied camera work that avoids stillness, keeping the story fresh and alert. 

Amazon Prime Video

1- The Woman in Black (James Watkins, 2012)

The Woman in Black belongs to the revival of Hammer Productions, who of course is infamous for the classic gothic horror of the 1950s through to the 1970s. Walking in Hammer’s archaic tales of haunted manors and troubled characters is Watkins’ take on the horror novel of the same name written by Susan Hill. The film follows Arthur (Daniel Radcliffe), a widowed lawyer who is sent to an isolated village in 20th century England to retrieve documents from a decaying estate. However, Arthur soon discovers that the manor is haunted by a vengeful ghost who will stop at nothing to claim back what was stolen from her. The eerie setting is beyond terrifying, with the mansion featuring some of horror’s most traditional elements, including dark hallways, ghostly reflections in windows, and creepy children.

2- Splinter (Toby Wilkins, 2008) 

2008 was a year that saw films such as The Strangers, Lake Mungo, Eden Lake, and Let the Right One in regenerate the market, but one film that has seemed to slip under the radar is Wilkins exploration into contained horror, Splinter. This gem follows a young couple who become trapped in a petrol garage with a strange spiked creature that infects and almost reanimates its victims into spiky sharp beings. The story rings familiar, a young romance under threat from an anonymous force, but Splinter frays from conventions and takes the unpredictable route every time. 

3- The Woman (Lucky McKee, 2011)

Lucky McKee has delivered some quality films for the genre, including May (2002) and All Cheerleaders Die (2013), but The Woman is possibly his most determined and ruthless film to burst out of his filmography. We follow the last remaining survivor of a cannibalistic tribe (Pollyanna McIntosh), who lives in the northeast coast, which is the same ground that the misogynistic lawyer and ‘family man’ Chris Cleek (Sean Bridgers) uses to hunt. It’s not long until Chris abducts this woman and holds her hostage for his own selfish needs.

The Woman is a powerful film that explores the fragmentation of the modern day American Dream, and the ricocheted shrapnel the comes loose when a family suffers from an internal dispute. This heavy narrative is richly involved, but do not let this fool you, McKee infuses an audacious soundtrack that keeps the film exciting, alongside this is the outstanding performances from Bridgers, McIntosh, and Angela Bettis. 

4- The Clovehitch Killer (Duncan Skiles, 2018) 

The Clovehitch Killer remains one of the most chilling depictions of a killer within the home. The film focuses upon Tyler Burnside (Charlie Plummer), a 16 year old boy from a strict Christian family. His life is brimming with church goings, family dinners at the table, and Scout Troop meetings. However, the harmony is brutally disrupted when Tyler begins to suspect that his role model father, Don (Dylan McDermott), is behind the murders that have plagued their small town. Based on a true story of the BTK Killer is a heartbreaking tale of deceit, destroyed relationships, and the slow developments of how repressed contradictions can make people reach their limits. The ‘look’ of the film is monotonous, with a dull colour palette and mundane situations making the harrowing storyline standout amongst the ordinary. 

5- The Rental (Dave Franco, 2020)

The Rental seemed to come out of nowhere, with its toned down production allowing for a pleasant surprise. And although it was met with a fair amount of acclaim, it is still vastly criticised and unappreciated. We follow two couples as they embark on a weekend getaway to an ocean rental house. All is well, besides the landlord being rather old fashioned, however this is the least of their concerns, as they soon realise that their every move is being watched. The Rental plays on the old gimmick of voyeurism, with our instinctual fear of being watched being constantly delved into throughout the film. However, Franco does not solely rely upon this to envelope the narrative, instead there is a heavy subplot of mistrust, that not only furthers the tension, but also makes the film risky and memorable. 

Shudder

1- Super Dark Times (Kevin Phillips, 2017) 

Super Dark Times is a film that brews slowly, and takes its time to haunt the viewer. Nothing is drastically viscous, gory, or even wrenching, instead it plays on inner trauma through adhering primarily to a character driven story. When a disastrous incident accidently occurs, we see a close knit group of teenage boys suffer from grief, jealousy, and paranoia. The 1996 suburban setting provides a film drenched with nostalgic iconography and a deep atmospheric tone. The general synopsis is not entirely far from typical, but what heightens the intrigue is how the events play out. Nothing is bountiful, yet the ominous foreboding outcome leaves us hooked to the very end. 

2- Spiral (Kurtis David Harder, 2019) 

Spiral takes its presence to the extreme, with the film not shying away from the brutality that the LGBT+ community undergoes, particularly in isolated small towns. The film centres on a same- sex couple who move into a beautiful suburb with their teenage daughter, the backlash is prominent, but events are truly turned up a notch when they suspect that their neighbourhood harbours a sinister secret. Spiral has been continuously labelled as ‘Get Out meets Hereditary’, and although these are stellar films, Spiral rides on its own entirely unique path. The film is a slow burner right through to the bone, with looming presences and tormenting heights simmering throughout. 

3- Prevenge (Alice Lowe, 2016)

Prevenge is an incredible example of the fear of motherhood evoked onscreen. This subject is not often tackled within horror, but Lowe proves that pregnancy is not something that cinema should only use as a minor subplot. Prevenge follows Ruth (Lowe), a pregnant widow who believes that her unborn child is telling her to kill those who played a role in her husband’s death. The general storyline of who her victims are and what they did to contribute to her loss is not really explored, with Lowe focusing solely on Ruth’s slow descent into complete madness. The film is brutally transgressive as it refuses to downplay the grief one experiences when going through a life changing event alone, especially when this was not the plan. 

4- Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror (Xavier Burgin, 2019)

Horror Noire is a documentary film that is based upon the book titled Horror Noire: Blacks in American Horror Films from the 1890s to Present” written by Robert R. Means Coleman. The film takes a careful look at the connection between how horror cinema has evolved and African-American history. Horror Noire examines how the lack of diversity seen across the industry is not only detrimental to performers and creators, but also how the genre’s history negatively portrays black people. Adding to the documentary’s exploration is the focus upon how the genre has only recently seen new additions to diversity, with the films Get Out (2017), Attack the Block (2011), and The Girl with All the Gifts (2016) being discussed. 

5- Creepshow (2019-) 

The Creepshow films have been fan favourites since the first release in 1982. Creepshow the tv series has a total of two seasons (with the latest only being released this year), and two special episodes. The Creepshow legacy was brought back to life in 2018 when special effects legend Greg Nicotero (known for his work on Army of Darkness, Scream, and The Walking Dead), announced that he will be producing the new show which streams on Shudder. In true form the show has stuck to what made George A. Romero’s take on Stephen King’s work so well, through the ideal mix of menacing humour and amusingly nightmarish themes.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.

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Reviews

Freddy Krueger: Your worst nightmare

“One, two, Freddy’s coming for you…” We all know that spine-tingling jingle that subtly defines one of horror’s most intimidatingly successful franchises, A Nightmare on Elm Street (Wes Craven, 1984). Craven’s legacy bears rich classics that have excelled beyond anyone’s expectations, with his filmography boasting titles such as The Last House on the Left (1972), The Hills Have Eyes (1977), and everybody’s cliche-twisting slasher, Scream (1996).

The great success Craven has received is admirable, yet there is an overt lack of discussion regarding symbolism and dissection when it comes to the titular character across every Nightmare on Elm Street film, the boogeyman himself, Freddy Krueger (Robert Englund). The franchise holds a total of nine films, with the first procuring the densest socio-political issues, alongside the most candid portrayal of Krueger. As the series has developed, so has the rambunctious behaviour from his character, with his later appearances emphasizing the more chucklesome and gabby side to his persona. To fully decipher what he represents we need to take a step back to the early 1980s and unravel the twisted world of Freddy Krueger. 

The 1960s and 1970s brought about great change, where the revolution of attempted freedom was at large, particularly in the USA. What brought about this dire need of a system change was a generalised anger over the lack of equality, civil rights, and the state of affairs across the world. These worrisome concerns were protested by the youth of America, leading to many filmmakers who were heavily involved in these stands becoming influenced by a furied ethical climate. The consequences of this were not always directly pronounced, with a favouring of symbolism and metaphorical values. One of the most primary examples of course being A Nightmare on Elm Street. The themes are manifested almost solely through Krueger, as he embodies denial, vulnerability, dissonance, and unjust dominance

The adaptive dream notion behind A Nightmare on Elm Street is well known. Craven had been inspired by the sudden death syndrome seen in a group of Hmong refugees, with Krueger’s stalking nature being influenced by a creeper that Craven had witnessed during his childhood. Withdrawing away from Krueger briefly is the setup that forces his legendary status; from the start, the setting is not reflected in archetypal horror locations. Instead of the haunted house or cemetery, we are presented with white picket fences in a white suburban neighbourhood. Straight away Craven is mocking the societal frame that cradled America’s elite, who would infamously belittle those who wanted to change the country’s structure for a fairer place. And what enforces the mimicry is the juxtaposition of what Krueger represents against the apparent bed of roses. 

Krueger withholds his victims through their dreams. He is not only controlling people at their most vulnerable state, but when they also have no chance of escape, people psychically need sleep to survive. In the first film the lead protagonist Nancy (Heather Langenkamp), has to battle against Krueger in her dreams to prevent her imminent death. Throughout the film, their contact is initiated through Nancy’s dreams, with her actually suffering in real life with any injuries she may obtain in these dream battles. Krueger presents himself with no invite and eventually becomes such a harrowing force in her life that the lines between dreams and reality become blurred. Without going on a tangent, the dream state is riddled with our subconscious thoughts, and what we aim to repress. Krueger is a symbol of the aftereffect that is born through neglect and generational cruelty that society attempts to abandon. 

Krueger’s charred skin, deep with lacerations and a hollowed complexion is not just purposeful to amp up the gore factor, it serves as a plot reaction. The brief history surrounding his origins is identified from the first film, where we find out that Nancy’s mother Marge (Ronee Blakley), and the other parents on their street burned Freddy Krueger to his death in a collective vigilante mission, due to Krueger being a child killer

What is intentionally ironic is the reason behind his motivation and the consequences of the parent’s actions. Needless to say, Krueger is riddled with vengeance, and he wants to destroy these adolescents to fuel his sick desires and to punish their families. The adults of Springwood are villainous, not only in their own deeds but additionally through their individual downfalls, including selfishness and avoidance of admittance. 

Their own matters of justice create a dark past that must not be uttered, forming an air of uncertainty and moral evilness over the town’s authority figures. Through the older generations’ actions, a cycle of repercussions has been conjured. Their children are suffering as a result of their misdeeds. Nancy and her friends are targeted by Krueger and are forced to fight it out alone, in a vicious system of repressed guilt. This fixes Krueger’s innate motive to disrupt the false civil harmony created, as underneath the façade lies a seedy underbelly

What furthers Krueger as a direct symbol of rebellion is his position as a fully fleshed-out villain, rather than an antagonist with an anonymous aura haloing over them. Throughout all of the films, Kruger is an all-performing show character, whose infectious personality has forced audiences over time to warm to him more than his victims. Krueger represents the evil in society, but just as humans do, we cannot help but be tempted by such wickedness. He talks, runs, jokes, laughs, and most importantly toys with his victims, showing genuine enjoyment in killing his prey.

He evokes a personality, not just a wallowing killer behind a mask. There is nothing at fault with the great silent killers, such as Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees, but Krueger’s sensibility has a mysterious sense of threat that only he can achieve. He does not feed off of people’s fears as a source of power, instead, he uses that menacing allure to break down his victim’s shield. The thought of a speechless killer is terrifying, but the thought of one who plays a game of cat and mouse (just because he can) creates a daunting and disturbed atmosphere. 

Throughout the rest of the franchise Krueger’s comedic tone heightens, almost falling down the rabbit hole of 1980s fruitfully humorous horror, however, his true looming nature has remained the same. In comparison to other big franchises of the genre, A Nightmare on Elm Street has fewer titles, which is mostly due to the 2010 reboot completely failing at expanding the universe. But, despite such setbacks in progression, the most pivotal element across every film is the tonal roots that the Nightmare films stay true to, with Freddy Krueger being one of horror’s most definable and complex characters

Love to read more about iconic horror villains? Check out our article on Jason Voorhees here.

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Reviews

Review: A Quiet Place Part II

As I entered the cinema to watch the highly anticipated A Quiet Place Part II I was unfortunately met with loud chatty audience members attached to their brightly lit phone screens, needless to say, my annoyance was strong.

However, the conversations halted and popcorn crunching was paused within five minutes of the attention-demanding film’s commencement. And that’s when I knew that I was in for a good time. Taming the teen audience is a challenge, but there’s only one film for the job… 

A Quiet Place Part II begins with Lee Abbot (John Krasinski), walking across an eerily quiet town, are we pre or post-apocalyptic? Our questions are soon answered as we enter into the same pharmacy that featured in the first film’s opening scene and see Lee talk to the friendly shopkeeper whilst stomping around in loud boots. Soon after, the buzzing sound of kids shouting and baseball’s batting begins as he turns the corner, entering into a loud family baseball game where we see the loving Abbot family cheering on their son.

However, it’s not long until the real action begins as a beaming flame crashes through the sky and unleashes a hellish parade of sound sensitive beasts. The strong opening scene sets the tone for the rest of the film, which boasts constant “Dun..Dun..Dunnn…” moments. This relaying of intense scares and unpredictable character fates is truly unique to The Quiet Place films. 

A Quiet Place (2018) focused on the Abbot family, consisting of wife and husband, Evelyn (Emily Blunt) and Lee (Krasinski), and their two children Regan (Millicent Simmonds), and Marcus (Noah Jupe) as they attempt to survive in this dangerous world, all the whilst having to prepare for the arrival of Evelyn’s baby who is due any day now. Due to Regan being deaf the family is able to efficiently communicate via American Sign Language (ASL).

Similarly, Part II follows the family as they reach their next hurdle. After their home and supplies have burnt down they need to make it on barefoot, with a low oxygen tank and a new-born baby. Fortunately, it’s not long until they run into Emmett (Cillian Murphy), a recluse who is still grieving the loss of his family. The story soon evolves into a triple threat as Regan goes on a voyage in search of finding a survival community, with Emmett trying to bring her back to the family, whilst Evelyn, Marcus, and the baby hideout in a risky bunker. Throughout the entire film, these interwoven segments never become muddled and always manage to successfully reunite separate themes together. 

Simmonds is a pure powerhouse, with her emotionally strong and courageous performance of a determined young woman taking on Lee’s role of the brave patriarch of the family, making her one of recent horror’s most interesting characters. But, Regan shows a distinct strength of selflessness and bravery that is entirely her own, not just a shadow of Lee’s commitment. Her actions resolved my initial worries about this sequel.

When a film is so outstanding it can be difficult to meet the same level of effectiveness, let alone top it, and I believe that most of that previous impact blossomed from Evelyn and Lee’s portrayal of a tender couple trying to raise their family amongst the carnage. And with Lee now permanently absent, I was slightly apprehensive over the lack of sentiment that Part II would obviously have. Alternatively, Part II brings about an abundance of maternal care, with Evelyn giving it her all to save her children, and Regan and Emmett being one another’s grief support partner. 

It would be impossible to review Part II without acknowledging the primary characteristic that swaddles the entire film, the creatures. Their exposure is much more generous in Part II, as they make a plethora of appearances throughout the entire film. Now, one creature element that I really did appreciate is the correlation between threat levels and creature exhibition.

Typically, as most recently seen in It: Chapter Two, when we constantly see the villain on screen we lose the mystery appeal, and most significantly we tire of the exaggerated emergence of the antagonist. Krasinski carefully tiptoes across this thread by placing the beasts only at the climax of the scene, where we are already on edge. 

Preserving my intrigue was the lack of prototypical survivor algorithms. The banality of the norm is almost completely eradicated, the death of Lee wholly surprised me, and I was not let down by the similar risks taken in this sequel. The phrase ‘no one is safe’ truly comes to mind in reflection, not even the new-born infant is safe!

These bold screams are of course not entirely unheard of, but they are rare. However, as much as I’ve sold this as an adrenaline-pumping rollercoaster, I actually found that one of the most pivotal instances is the inclusion of Emmett, who wallows in dread and devastating loss. Emmett transitions through his character arc with ease, possibly cementing a continued role in the upcoming third film…


Although I am unable to favour one film more than the other, due to their innately alternative routes, I can promise that A Quiet Place Part II is a brave, captivating, and adrenaline pumping thrill into tragedy in the midst of chaos.

This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.