31 by 31 Challenge #14: BAD MOON (1996)

@craiggors

There’s a fascinating movement that’s been happening in the horror community in recent years wherein fright freaks are reevaluating movies from the early to mid-1990’s, long considered horror’s bleakest period in terms of quality film, and finding things to love in once universally panned films. Bad Moon is one such film for me, though I always loved it back in the day. I’m thrilled to see it find more cheerleaders now, not because it’s a game-changing revolutionary werewolf film, but because it’s heaps of fun and with the right audience, can be absolute viewing perfection.

Globe-trotting photographer Ted (Michael Pare) is romping around in the steeped forests of Nepal when he’s attacked by a werewolf. Upon returning home, Ted secludes himself in a trailer near the mountain home of his sister Janet (Mariel Hemingway) and nephew Brett (Mason Gamble). As Ted and Janet begin to reconnect, mutilated bodies begin appearing in the woods and Thor, the family dog, takes an instant dislike to Ted, attempting to warn the family that something is very, very wrong.

The werewolf is one of the most complex and layered monsters in horror, yet the werewolf film has proven an elusive beast to tame. Bad Moon is by no means the gold standard for the sub-genre, but it understands that at their core, werewolf stories are about tragedy. This movie gives that tragedy an interesting spin in that Ted, the victim-turned-monster, isn’t our tragic figure–he embraces his newfound violent tendencies all too easy and eagerly–but the family unit threatened by forces supernatural and as close to home, or kennel, as could be. The inherent sadness of the film is not Ted’s transformation from man to beast, but that of a family just on the brink of reconciliation and happiness being torn apart and subjected to grief and trauma at the hands of one of their own.

The true standing power of Bad Moon is in the creature effects, however. Being that it was the 90’s, all the effects are practical, of course, and it’s truly stellar costuming and makeup, courtesy of Steve Johnson. The werewolf is hulking, feral, and gnarly. It’s a pure reflection of the earliest, most brutal werewolf myths that emphasized the savage nature of the monster. The werewolf is the ultimate killer, and each attack and mauling is appropriately gory, none more so than the opening scene, an in-your-face juxtaposition of sex and violence that was rare to see in 90’s horror flicks after the MPAA came down hard on that sort of the thing in the late 80’s. The film is all the better for it, however; a bold promise on what the rest of the movie has in store.

Bad Moon is not an everyman’s horror film, but just because it was overlooked and undervalued in 1996 doesn’t mean it’s a bad movie. There’s plenty to love here for those that appreciate top notch practical gore and creature effects, an assured sense of story, and gorgeous scenery all packed into a neat runtime. A victim of an era when werewolf and monster films, hell even horror in general, were struggling to find an audience, this onetime runt is perfectly primed to lead the pack.

Bad Moon

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror

31 by 31 Challenge #11: THRILLER (2018)

@craiggors

Earlier this year, Netflix surprise-dropped several low profile horror films from Blumhouse. Such a strategy is always a gamble, but it can occasionally pay off, as in the case of Mercy Black, which dropped at midnight and hooked viewers with its eerie, Slender Man-esque story and glossy visuals. Less successful was Thriller, a standard slasher that gets caught up in it’s own mechanics and forgets to actually slash until it’s too late.

In South Central LA, a group of middle schoolers lures a shy outcast into an abandoned home in order to play a cruel prank. Chauncey, the loner, is sweet and crushing on Lisa, the only vaguely nice girl out of the group of popular kids. She’s reluctant to punk Chauncey, but is pressured to go along with the gag anyway. When the prank goes awry and results in someone’s death, the group bands together and pins the accident on Chauncey, who is sent to a juvenile detention center. Four years later, Chauncey is released and the pranksters, now seniors about to enjoy their Homecoming weekend, find themselves getting sliced and diced by a masked killer.

There’s a lot of time spent establishing who’s who in this film. It’s made especially challenging because the group of kids that pull the prank is unnecessarily large, and they’re all recast with older actors after the opening time jump. Many of the characters fit into slasher stereotypes as well and could easily have been combined for digestibility, but this may be because Thriller quickly pushes the horror to the background in favor of a social study on what it means to grow up in a neighborhood like Compton and how that affects young residents. For almost an hour, we explore how some characters seek to escape their home streets, and their various plans for doing so, while others have decided to embrace the roughness and the hard life as a means to either survive or thrive. These are interesting ideas to explore, and getting to spend time with our characters helps break down some of those tropes and make them more human so that when the killing does start happening, the audience feels each death.

The trouble is that most of the kills happen off screen, and a bloodless slasher is a boring slasher. Combine that with a group of unseasoned actors who can’t sell their characters and the result is a watered down fright flick that leaves little to be desired. Final Girl Lisa (Jessica Alain) is bland, receiving the least amount of development despite being our focal character. Chauncey (Jason Woods) is all brute and no brain, a revenge-fueled monster without layers, and Kim (Pepi Sonuga) is a sweet party girl chasing a local rapper that only has a personality disorder in which she speaks in the distorted voice of her dead sister. Huh? It’s all too strange, or familiar, to have any real impact, and genre fans will be able to call every expected turn before it happens, all the way up to the final, lackluster finale.

Unfortunately, Thriller‘s uninspired title is an accurate reflection of it’s uninspired plot. What could have been a nuanced, updated, urban version of Prom Night (1980) instead fizzles as a generic “seen it before” slasher. I have to wonder if first-time director Dallas Jackson originally envisioned an entirely different type of movie, given how much time is spent exploring the daily lives of these characters, and if the horror element was shoehorned in during later stages of writing/development. I’m not sure what the story there might be, but I have to assume that it’s far more thrilling than the result.

Thriller

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror

31 by 31 Challenge #10: CHOPPING MALL (1986)

@craiggors

I think the moniker “cult film” gets thrown around a bit too much these days, but when it comes to Jim Wynorski’s Chopping Mall there is no more fitting description. The fandom surrounding the movie alone puts the majority of other cult films to shame, and you’ll struggle to find a more ridiculous yet oddly charming premise than than of a state-of-the-art mall security system featuring three robots that go berserk thanks to a freak lightning accident on the night a group of teens are trespassing. I mean, come on.

In order to cut down on rime and deter thieves, Park Plaza Mall has installed a new, high tech security system featuring alarms, steel doors, barred windows, lock-down procedures, and three pudgy black robots equipped with lasers and tasers. On the night they’re installed, four teenage couples plan to hide out in a furniture store until the coast is clear and then wild out in all the ways you’d expect 80’s teens to get down. The trouble is, the robots’ safety functions have been rewired by a lightning storm and now instead of patrolling to protect, they’re hunting to kill.

As much as Chopping Mall is a cult film–which it certainly is–it is also something else that contemporary audiences don’t see too much of being made these days: a party film. It’s the ideal movie to watch with a group of friends, yummy snacks, and your chosen libation as you revel in the absurdity and embrace the B-movie brilliance. And there truly is lots to embrace, unironically. Kelli Maroney and Barbra Crampton lead a pack of game actors and they’re both fantastic. Maroney in particular had an underrated, under-the-radar career and it’s nice to see her get a moment in the spotlight in this film as the nerdy, prim new face turned badass final girl.

There’s also the nostalgic appeal of mall culture, which was at its heyday at the time the movie was made; a culture that has drastically diminished if not altogether vanished in the age of Amazon. If you ate up the third season of Stranger Things and wanted more, Chopping Mall will scratch that itch. Gone are the days where shopping was an experience, an outing that was combined with the plink-plunk of the arcade, free samples at the food court, and bizarre, brightly colored stage shows in the middle of everything. If you miss such times, or at least remember them fondly, Chopping Mall is the goofy portal back to that era you’ve been missing.

Look, no one out there is grumbling that Platoon unjustly stole the Best Picture Oscar from Chopping Mall in 1986 (although you could make a case for Children of a Lesser God, but I digress). It’s a fun, silly movie that the filmmakers, cast, and fans are all completely aware is absolute nonsense. But that’s the joy of Chopping Mall. Much like the mall culture the movie itself so perfectly encapsulates, the film is a relic of a bygone age, but one that still has champions and new converts in our modern era. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a better popcorn movie for your Halloween get-together, so give it a watch. You’ll really just have the nicest day.

Chopping Mall

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror

31 by 31 Challenge #9: THE MANGLER (1995)

@craiggors

Adapting a Stephen King story is a tricky business. Despite the number of King’s tales that have been shifted from page to screen, Hollywood hasn’t quite pinned down a formula for how to make a successful King film. By and large, the general rule seems to be that if you want to tilt the scales in your favor, it’s best to stack the deck with horror royalty. Think Romero taking on Creepshow (1982) and The Dark Half (1993), or Carpenter with Christine (1983). Following that logic, a film directed by Tobe Hooper and starring Robert Englund and Ted Levine should be a complete blockbuster. But logic has failed us here.

The prize machine of the Blue Ribbon Laundry service is a monstrous device known as the mangler. It’s a dangerous press, but safety regulations seem to be the least concern of factory owner Bill Gartley (Englund). When an accident involving Gartley’s niece Sherry (Vanessa Pike) splashes blood onto the mangler, the sinister clunker appears to come to life, and it’s out for blood. Officer John Hunton (Levine) gets involved in the case when another worker dies, and he turns to his demonologist brother-in-law Mark (Daniel Matmor) when events at Blue Ribbon begin to defy earthly explanation.

There’s a decent amount to work with when it comes to The Mangler. As in the original short story, collected in Night Shift, there’s a commentary on American capitalism and gluttonous consumerism, specifically in how the working class is sacrificed in the name of dollar signs, and how the bodies of young women are exploited and abused with ease and encouragement in a patriarchal society. And then of course, a demonic laundry press comes to life and literally chases our heroes through an M.C. Escher hellscape because of some blood and a few antacids. It’s two completely different films. One half, the horror comedy headed by Englund in his droopy prosthetics and half-man/half-machine ensemble, is fun and goofy. The other half is a strange neo-noir tale with Levine moaning and groaning and carrying the weight of the cruel, unjust working world on his ever-so-broad shoulders.

What The Mangler gets wrong is trying to give equal weight to these two different stories being told. The safer bet would have been to embrace the inherent ridiculousness of the plot and go all in on the black comedy angle, much in the way that Carpenter does with Christine. In attempting to balance the humor with melodrama, Hooper creates a film that just doesn’t gel. It looks great–the sets are full of grime and slick muck and lazy steam and you can feel the woe and corruption practically pulsating in the walls–but visuals aren’t enough to save a disjointed narrative.

Short stories don’t always work when told in longer format, but there’s enough in The Mangler that could have made for an interesting feature. Small town elites sacrificing their virginal daughters could have been played up, as well as the more serious themes of corruption, greed, and misogyny. Perhaps Hooper didn’t want to strike out too far from King’s original work. The direction is often hesitant, as though he knew he had to choose between black comedy and melodrama but couldn’t commit. Unfortunately for him, and the viewer, neither half is strong enough to stand on its own and instead we’re left with something a bit more, well…mangled.

The Mangler

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror

31 by 31 Challenge #8: GAGS THE CLOWN (2018)

@craiggors

As we inch further and further into the twenty-first century, it’s only appropriate that horror movies and their marketing becomes increasingly more meta. Such is the case with Gags the Clown, whose origin began in the wave of clown sightings across America in 2016, particularly in Green Bay, Wisconsin. While at first it seemed people were being stalked by a genuine nut job in a clown suit, it soon came out that the sightings were staged promotion for an upcoming killer clown movie. This killer clown movie.

Pictures and video of a macabre-looking clown known only as Gags have been consuming the citizens of Green Bay. Gags seems to appear and disappear at random, holding aloft a quarter of black balloons and looking anything but cheerful. The city is rapidly falling into mass coulrophobia. Mischievous pranksters are taking advantage of the fear to cause mischief, parents are unwilling to let their children out at night, and the police have their hands tied as Gags hasn’t committed any actual crime. It’s under these circumstances that a few locals (some teens, a TV news reporter, and a right-wing podcaster) decide to take matters into their own hands. But when it comes to Gags, those black balloons are the least of your worries.

As you may have guessed, Gags is a found footage film, and the tactic works well here, especially when it comes to heightening the tension and highlighting the fear that’s strangling this community. The story bounces between four distinct groups, none of whom have complete knowledge of what’s really going on until the narrative threads converge at the climax. Director Adam Krause knows how to keep the story moving and feel fresh, even if the characters are as stale and musty as the inside of Gags’ clown suit. This would be less of a crime if there were more scares, but aside from the prologue and a few creepy moments in the first half, Gags holds back a lot for the majority of the film.

There are scattered moments throughout that really work, however; it’s most effective when the viewer begins to realize that the threat Gags poses is not as simple or mundane as a madman in makeup. The unnatural manner in which Gags operates adds a very different, very uneasy angle to the standard story of a dangerous clown. This is enhanced by a strong sense of foreboding in the film’s atmosphere, and competent camerawork. A lot of the sequences, particularly towards the end, blend together different means of recording to create a seamless sense of despair while also keeping hold of the story. It must have been a bitch to edit.

Found footage, as I’m sure we all know, is a tricky medium and sub-genre to get right. Gags the Clown doesn’t fail by any means, but it also doesn’t get the gold star. The weird, absurd finale is dark and goofy, but somewhat off-kilter for what came before. It’s an apt representation of the film as a whole, I think. There are bubbles of strange enjoyment, but in between is murky confusion populated with paint-by-numbers characters. Still, it’s good for a laugh. Even if that laugh is more of a retching cough.

Gags the Clown

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror

31 by 31 Challenge #6: HELL NIGHT (1981)

@craiggors

An ear-piercing scream worthy of consideration for the Jamie Lee Curtis Scream Queen Award (that I just made up). Party-going teens in costume. A pitch black night where anything and everything can go wrong. This is the opening to Hell Night, a once forgotten slasher that failed to attract on its debut, but is far more unique than its basic premise and rote setting would suggest.

It’s Hell Night at the local college, a night of debauchery and ritual hazing meant to induct nubile young co-eds (played by actors clearly pushing thirty, obviously) into Greek life. King of frat life Peter (Kevin Brophy) leads four likable teens to nearby Garth Manor, a Victorian mansion left locked and vacant since the brutal slaughter of the entire family by the deranged father, and the disappearance of the deformed youngest son. If Marti (Linda Blair), Jeff (Peter Barton), Seth (Vincent Van Patten), and Denise (Suki Goodwin) can survive the night alone in the massive house, they’ll be initiated into Alpha Sigma Rho. But as they’ll soon find out, Garth Manor isn’t as empty as it first appears.

Hell Night did not premiere to great fanfare or box office success. Even in 1981, the newly minted slasher genre was overflowing with Halloween (1978) knockoffs and Friday the 13th (1980) copycats. Some of them, like Prom Night (1980) stood out from the crowd, while others floundered. There was just too much competition. It’s a shame, because despite Hell Night‘s paint-by-numbers premise, it’s not quite as cookie cutter as we might think. Take Peter’s monologue explaining the mythology of the house and the massacre that occurred there, for example. In most slashers, that speech would be accompanied by a gauzy flashback where we see the murders committed in pantomime, but not here. Instead, it’s straight dialogue. The film trusts it’s audience to fill in the blanks themselves, a brilliant tactic.

Sure, there’s still lots of slasher tentpoles present. Sex, drugs, isolated locations stalked by a mythic maniac. But then there’s the Gothic set dressing of the manor, an unusual choice for a slasher, which as a rule catered to contemporary teen audiences and moved away from anything too grand or eccentric. It makes the film feel a bit Poe-ish, which is a surprisingly nice touch amidst the standard silliness. Equally unusual for a slasher, there’s no nudity involved in the more titillating scenes. Instead, the film earns its R rating based solely on the violence and though it takes awhile to build to the slice-and-dice, when the kills do happen, they’re quite creative.

Hell Night isn’t Halloween, and that’s okay. It’s not trying to be–and that’s what makes it so fun. Director Tom DeSimone knew his audience, and you can tell the cast did as well. The result is an ideal sleepover movie best watched in early autumn with a heavy blanket, some popcorn, and a mug of warm cider. Snuggle up and give it a watch, you won’t regret it. This I pledge.

Hell Night

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror

31 by 31 Challenge #5: TIGERS ARE NOT AFRAID (2017)

@craiggors

One of the buzziest releases of the year, Issa López’s Tigers Are Not Afraid is a haunting, dark fairy tale that uses striking cinematography and dynamite special effects to explore childhood trauma through the lens of magical realism. It’s a film unafraid to go to dark places and dig in deep, showcasing a kind of horror that is at once all too real and the stuff of our worst collective nightmares: the violent death of children.

Estrella (Paola Larsa) is a young girl living with her mother in a city gutted and devastated by the Mexican Drug War. When her school is shot up during a gang skirmish, Estrella is gifted three pieces of magical chalk by her teacher. Each piece will grant her one wish. After her mother vanishes, Estrella uses her first wish bring her back, unaware of what she has awoken. Estrella’s mother does indeed return, only as a terrifying specter of her former self, causing Estrella to take to the streets and join up with a coterie of homeless boys led by cynical, traumatized Shine (Juan Ramon López). In them, Estrella finds friendship, protection, and a chance to uncover what really happened to her mother.

Tigers is stuffed to the gills with talent, from the lovable and believable child actors to the smooth, succinct script that not only blends the fantastical with gritty reality, but also balances full-body terror with moments of heart and humor. The production design is also breathtaking, and the special effects used to create the wraith-like ghosts and Shine’s graffiti tigers blend seamlessly into the real, an impressive fear given the film’s relatively modest budget.

You’d never know that Tigers was made on the cheap, so rich and well crafted is the atmosphere and the techniques used to bring the story to life, often to chilling effect. The makeup of the undead ghouls that shadow Estrella, and the swerving, seemingly sentient trail of blood that slithers and snakes behind her after her first wish unnerve and unsettle, leaving us squirming with visions of horrific deaths and a pervading sense of wrongness. Combine all this with an excellent cast perfectly attuned to their roles and the result is one of the year’s most essential films.

Tigers Are Not Afraid is a magical, momentous film that uses its supernatural elements not for cheap jump scares, but to heighten the human drama at the center of the story and the question of how desperate children survive in a dangerous and violent world when stripped of their support networks. As such, it is a tale of resilience and defiance in the face of destruction–as the film’s ominous and menacing tone make clear–but it is also about the power of hope that can be sparked in a shared human experience, and the transcendent magic that can arise if that spark is fueled properly. See this film at your earliest convenience. Find your chalk. Don’t be afraid.

Tigers Are Not Afraid

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror

31 by 31 Challenge #4: THE PERISHED (2019)

@craiggors

For decades, unmarried women who got pregnant in Ireland were sent to “mother and child homes” sponsored and run by the Catholic Church where they were kept out of sight of “polite” society and, presumably, made to atone for their most grievous of sins. The reports surrounding the conditions and practices of these homes are sickening at best and appalling at worst, including hundreds of bodies of children found in a mass, unmarked grave. This is the backdrop against which writer and director Paddy Murphy sets this personal and piercing, if somewhat muddled, film.

Sarah Dekker’s (Courtney McKeon) life is upended when she discovers that she’s pregnant. Before she can tell either her boyfriend Shane (Fiach Kunz) or her parents (Conor Lambert & Noelle Clarke), however, Shane breaks up with her and her strict Catholic mother finds the positive pregnancy test and promptly kicks her daughter out of the house. Unable to face life as a single mother, Sarah goes to England for an abortion, then returns and recuperates in the country home of her friend Davet (Paul Fitzgerald). What neither of them know, however, is that the house is actually the site of a mass infant grave, and Sarah’s presence has awoken the unsettled spirits of the lost children, desperate for a mother.

The Perished is meant to be a slow-burn, so much so that the first quarter of the film feels more like a social drama. It’s great set-up, though, as when the moments of horror start creeping in, the viewer feels their unease all the more. As Sarah is coping with her choice, the remains of her life, and the loss of her most important relationships, something sinister is building around her. Something marked by tiny cries that only she can hear, and visions of a ghoulish monster that would make Clive Barker proud.

As the tension builds, those potent beats that provide insight into character and motive give way to monster moments and body horror. As we push towards the climax, that oh-so-specific kind of guilt that hangs over Sarah, and blankets the film itself, transforms into a a more straightforward type of horror as Sarah’s body begins to show signs of a second, more advanced pregnancy, and the monstrous avatar of the murdered babies comes out in full force. It’s an interesting choice as while the creature effects are phenomenal and truly would heighten any latter Hellraiser film, the viewer doesn’t feel the same sense of palpable dread that we felt early on when Sarah was cast out by her own family and the resulting trauma.

There’s a question of scope and scale when it comes to this film, I think. It’s an enormous and heavy subject matter to tackle, and I applaud the filmmakers for being unafraid to journey into the dark, but I found myself confused by the ultimate message of the film in the end. By all accounts, the film is championing choice, tolerance, and self-care. The heartbreaking title cards that bookend the film drive home the real-world horrors surrounding these issues in Ireland, and the discrimination faced by women who have made the choice to have an abortion. It’s also clear that church and state alike have contributed to and supported these actions and stigmas, and I would have liked to have seen a stronger critique of those institutions for allowing these crimes to occur. As it stands, the events that unfold at the house seem to be punishing Sarah rather than the true culprits, which skews the message a bit. Sarah has chosen not to be a mother at this particular moment in her life, but in the end is forced to become one by the perished. Is this her penance? It’s unclear.

The Perished is a brave, honest movie that takes on taboo subjects and weighty, real life topics. A solid start and creepy middle lose steam in the final act, where characterization and historical importance take a backseat for some admittedly excellent gore and creature effects. It’s clear that Murphy is a talented filmmaker to watch, however. The film shows his skill at navigating depth, tone, and tension. He clearly knows what’s horrifying. It may just be that he’s taken on something too terrifying, or too grand, here, but you can feel the effort behind his storytelling. And with that kind of passion driving him, I’ll be first in line to see what comes next.

Many thanks to Celtic Badger Media for a screener in exchange for an honest review.

The Perished

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror

Carrie: A Horror Novel Unburdened by Ego

By Miss @MelMoy

Since I kind of fell right off my wagon last year when it came to keeping up with the promised blog about my fall reading list, I’m going to actually make an effort this year to talk about the books I read during the spooky season. I kicked things off on September 9th with my first ever reading of Carrie. I picked this one up on a trip to Maine over Labor Day weekend because…obviously.

For anyone unfamiliar, Carrie is a novel about a 17-year-old girl who finds she has latent telekinetic powers after a traumatic incident in the girls’ locker room involving her period. She takes revenge on the peers who bullied her and the mother who raised her in a strict, Christian fundamentalist home. It was Stephen King’s first novel, published when King was about 25 years old and working as a teacher in Hampden high school. Technically, it was his fourth novel but the first one he got published.

Going in, I was highly aware this was one of the earliest works by an author who would go on to put out over 60 novels, 10 short story collections, and 5 nonfiction books. It’s sort of like a time capsule of the most prolific American writer in the later 20th century.  And I was surprised when I came to the end of the story and found the whole thing to be, honestly, a nearly perfect novel. 

The characterization is incredibly well done, the cast doesn’t feel like anyone was short-changed. Characters are full and realized, something King still does expertly, but here it’s done with minimal scenes, low amounts of exposition, and mainly in-scene choices that build the inner world of the cast of characters.  The dialogue lacks King’s self-indulgent style that began to crop up in The Stand and there is no excessive scene building as he trusts the reader to be present without 3 pages worth of introduction. Possibly the best part, this novel is completely devoid of King’s customary self-insert character of a white male writer and occasional school teacher with a substance abuse problem (Jack Torrance, Bill Denbrough, Ben Mears). This is a story probably farthest away from King’s personal experience: a teenage girl’s first period and mercilessly bullying from her fellow women in the school. 

I think what this proves, if anything, is that this novel is the product of honesty at a different time in King’s life. While I think there is real honesty in his later stories that deal with much more internally complex characters with a different set of problems to work through, this novel feels unweighted by the trappings of success, by an author who is invisible in the story. There’s no contamination of ego or expectation. It’s a novel written by a man who was living out of a trailer, with a story to tell. 

As a horror novel? It’s more weird fiction and speculative than it is actual horror. That being said, this novel is a great example of the true differences between horror and terror, as outlined by Shirley Jackson (a known influence on King’s work). In that regard, the last third of the novel is nothing but horror at Carrie’s rampage and King’s use of secondary texts throughout to hint at what’s to come is a great employment of terror as well. 

Ultimately, there’s a lot to be learned about writing and about the author himself from a glimpse at his first work of full fiction that graced shelves. Keep an eye as I work through more spooky books this fall.

31 by 31 Challenge #3: FRIDAY THE 13TH: THE FINAL CHAPTER (1984)

Originally intended to be the concluding installment in the saga of one Jason Voorhees, Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter is certainly one of the more refined entries in the blockbuster franchise, and without question the last serious outing before the bonkers weirdness takes hold for parts five through ten. While the story is cut from the slasher cloth, the script itself is good, the cast is game and likable, and the gore effects–courtesy of Tom Savini, returning to the franchise for the first time since the original–are top notch.

The day after the events of Friday the 13th Part III (1982), Jason’s body is taken to the morgue where, much to the horror of the hospital staff, it turns out he’s not dead. As Jason (Ted White) dispatches nurses and hitchhikers, a new group of rowdy teenagers make their way to Crystal Lake, unaware of the horrors that have recently gripped the community. The teens shack up in a rented cabin next to the home of the Jarvis family. Trish (Kimberly Beck) and brother Tommy (Corey Feldman) make nice with their new neighbors before meeting lone camper Rob (Erich Anderson), who is on a secret mission to finish Jason once and for all. But there will buckets of blood before the night is out, leading us to a chilling, satisfying finale.

Final Chapter is interesting a number of ways. It’s the first film in the series without any real sense of mystery. Jason is firmly ensconced as the killer now, he’s completed his visage, we know what to expect. It’s a very settled film. Aside from the next installment, Part 5, the mystery departs Friday the 13th for good at this point, and so Final Chapter really becomes the model for all the remaining sequels.

For all that it does to set the standard framework, Final Chapter still takes time to let its characters breathe, a choice that the following films would make to lesser and lesser degree. All the subplots and minor threads close successfully before their the slicing and dicing kicks into high gear, and there’s arguably more memorable characters here than in any other Friday film. And when the characters are dispatched, you feel it. The kills are mean and brutal, heightened by some of Savini’s best work on the effects.

As the conclusion for what we might think of as the first “cycle” of Friday the 13th, The Final Chapter is a strong film. It knows what sort of beast it is, and it takes itself seriously just enough. The result is a well-rounded production any self-respecting slasher fan will cherish, bumps and all.

For more on Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter, check out Episode 69 of the podcast, available here.

Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter

  • 5 – Totally Terrifying
  • 4 – Crazy Creepy
  • 3 – Fairly Frightening
  • 2 – Slightly Scary
  • 1 – Hardly Horror