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Showing posts with label Wes Craven. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wes Craven. Show all posts

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Retro Review: The People Under the Stairs

I've typically used this space to review films of the past that are widely hailed and recognized. This week, however (at the request once again of Ms. Merlot), I am taking a look at a movie that kind of gets short shrift, in my opinion. While not disliked, it does get unfairly overlooked, and is, in fact, one of the most fun horror pictures of the early 1990s.

When the name of Wes Craven is brought up, people usually think of A Nightmare on Elm Street, or maybe Scream. They might also mention Last House on the Left, The Hills Have Eyes, The Serpent and the Rainbow, hell, maybe even Deadly Friend or Shocker. But it's highly unlikely that they will mention The People Under the Stairs, which is easily the director's most underrated horror film.

Coming on the heels of the aforementioned Shocker, in which Craven had tried, unsuccessfully, to launch another slasher franchise, the director was looking to do something a bit different. And he certainly did that with People Under the Stairs--say what you will about it, it's quite unique.

The story of a poor young boy nicknamed "Fool" (played by child star Brandon Quinton Adams, best known for starring alongside Michael Jackson in Moonwalker), who breaks into the home of his wealthy landlord along with his older sister's boyfriend, the movie blends horror, suspense, and a liberal dose of comedy. Fool and Leroy (played by relative newcomer Ving Rhames three years before Pulp Fiction made him a star), are out to steal some valuable coins from the miserly landlord, in order to help Fool's poverty-stricken family and cancer-suffering mother. But they get more than they bargained for when they find themselves trapped in the house, and at the mercy of the owners and their mysterious brood of "people under the stairs".

The cast is rounded out by the likes of Bill Cobbs, a solid character actor who recently popped up as the old custodian in A Night at Museum; as well as fan favorite Kelly Jo Minter, whom had previously appeared in the fifth installment of the series Craven had started, NOES.

It's the quirkiness of the film, more than anything else, that makes it so interesting. It's not especially well-acted or shot. It does benefit from some effectively spooky production design from Spinal Tap and Moonwalker designer Bryan Jones. The makeup work also contributes tremendously to the horror aspect, and is especially shocking in parts due to the often comic nature of the film. For this we can thank Howard Berger, a luminary in the field whose resume includes such films as Day of the Dead, Night of the Creeps, Evil Dead II, Misery, Pulp Fiction, Craven's Scream, The Green Mile, Kill Bill, Sin City, Hostel, Drag Me to Hell, and many, many others.

It's a very bizarre and original premise, and only gets weirder when we learn that the supposed couple who owns the house are actually brother and sister, with the mutated, zombie-like kids under their stairs being children they have abducted to be their own. Add to that the fact that we have a main character in constant peril who is also a child, and this makes for some interesting viewing.

Craven would follow up this 1991 picture with a creatuve return to the series he launched, New Nightmare--and not long after that would enjoy a second career renaissance thanks to the groundbreaking Scream. And so, PUS (as I so fondly abbreviate it) would sort of get shuffled under the carpet, remembered only by the dedicated fanboys (like myself) who enjoyed it the first time around.

So for those who were not around to enjoy it, especially those who have found they particularly enjoy the work of Wes Craven, I wholeheartedly recommend The People Under the Stairs. It may be no Nightmare on Elm Street, but it's a far cry from Vampire in Brooklyn, too.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

A Quarter-Century of Krueger: How a Porn Producer Changed the Face of Horror

From the very beginning, the man who would bring Freddy Krueger to Elm Street had a hard time fitting in with the middle-American, conformist dream. Born into a Baptist family in Cleveland, Ohio, Wesley Earl Craven suffered through an unhappy childhood before leaving as soon as he could to pursue a degree at Wheaton College in Illinois.

After studying English literature, writing and psychology, it seemed that Wes Craven was destined to be your garden-variety humanities college teacher--but that was a far cry from where his path was headed. By the end of the 1960s, his first marriage was over, as was his teaching career.

Craven went to New York and tried to earn money any way he could, first as a cab driver, and later finding work as a sound editor for a movie post-production company. This would be Wes' first taste of the motion picture industry. However, because that industry was so very different from what it is today, Craven's path to horror superstardom would take a decidedly unexpected turn first.

Joining forces with fellow future horror groundbreaker Sean Cunningham, Craven threw his hat into the "adult documentary" biz that was beginning to blossom at the time. Specifically, the two men, with the help of "investors", produced the softcore sex film Together, featuring the future star of Behind the Green Door, the late Marilyn Chambers. As with many such flicks of the day, it posed as an informational film, while really showcasing titillating scenes of frank sensuality.

It must be remembered by modern film-goers that this was a very different time, when respectable middle-class couples lined up around the block to see The Devil in Miss Jones, and the likes of Frank Sinatra and Spiro Agnew sat in the audience for Deep Throat. If you think porn is mainstream today, then you'd really be surprised by the early 1970s, when the genre came as close as it has ever been to the mainstream industry.

And so, a movie like Together seemed like a perfectly natural way for two aspiring filmmakers like Craven and Cunningham to cut their teeth and put together some capital. But next up, the investors behind the operation, in their infinite wisdom, decided that it might be a good idea to shift gears from sex to violence, and asked the boys to put together a horror movie.

That movie would be the still-controversial exploitation film The Last House on the Left, produced by Cunningham, and directed by Craven from a script he based off Ingmar Bergman's The Virgin Spring (1958). Featuring graphic depictions of rape, disembowelment and sexual mutilation, Craven's directorial debut pushed the envelope like no film ever had before. Some were genuinely repulsed by it, while others recognized it as a daring piece of filmmaking. It also must be understood that in the cultural climate of the day, many probably viewed it in the same light as a film like Together--exploitation, after all, is exploitation. There were also the shady associations attached to the film, the funding for which had come largely from the porn industry.

But as much of a career-maker as Last House was, Wes wasn't done with the world of skin flicks just yet. As a matter of fact, his next project after his horror picture would be a film he edited called It Happened in Hollywood, the one and only hardcore porn flick that Craven would be associated with, written and directed by benefactor Peter Locke.

After that, it was horror all the way for Wes Craven. The genre had become big business in the 1970s, and was a way for Craven to make a name for himself in a fashion that was a bit closer (though not much) to the mainstream. With Locke still providing funding, Craven struck out without Cunningham and wrote/directed his next horror picture, The Hills Have Eyes.

This one was an even bigger hit. Ironically, considering the intense subject matter of the film about genetic mutants terrorizing a family of tourists, the film was a bit more accessible to the masses than the brutal Last House, and helped make Wes Craven a name in the horror business.

With enough success under his belt to completely escape the shadow of the porn biz and Locke's money in particular, Craven came under the auspices of big-time production company PolyGram and distributor United Artists for the admittedly mediocre supernatural thriller Deadly Blessing. Next up was Swamp Thing, a campy, quirky and inventive comic book movie that had the terrible misfortune of coming out in the summer of 1982 (E.T., Wrath of Khan, Conan the Barbarian, Poltergeist... get the picture?) That would be followed by a TV movie, Invitation to Hell.

It seemed for a fleeting moment like Last House and Hills Have Eyes were aberrations, and that Craven, free of the grindhouse milieu, was destined for horror oblivion. But thanks to a script he had written right around the time he was making Deadly Blessing, that would not be so. It had bounced around from studio to studio, largely getting turned down for being too ambitious from a special effects point of view. Based roughly on some bits of Germanic folklore and crossed with the then-burgeoning slasher subgenre, that script would be A Nightmare on Elm Street.

No one wanted to take a chance on it, largely because films of that nature were usually considered pretty small-time, and couldn't command the necessary budget. But dying distribution house New Line Cinema, which had taken chances in the past with the likes of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Evil Dead, opted to take it on. This would be the first film actually produced by the company that had previously only been in the distribution biz.

And the rest is horror history. Craven's Nightmare on Elm Street made him literally a household name, along with his greatest creation, Freddy Krueger. It also saved New Line Cinema from bankruptcy and positioned it as such a viable property that it would eventually be bought up by Ted Turner. Despite being shut down recently, it was, till the end, known as "The House that Freddy Built" (but should've been "The House that Wes Built").

Craven had come along way from the New York grindhouse porn scene to the new, mainstream pop culture world of '80s horror. His landmark film would become arguably the most identifiable and popular horror film of the entire decade, and established Craven as a true visionary of the macabre. The films that followed, including the likes of Deadly Friend, The Serpent and the Rainbow, Shocker, The People Under the Stairs, Red Eye, and of course the Scream series, would only further solidify that well-deserved reputation.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

A Quarter-Century of Krueger: The Music of Nightmares

When you think of the truly classic horror film themes, there's no question that A Nightmare on Elm Street's unforgettable score comes to mind, right alongside the likes of Halloween, Psycho, Hellraiser, etc. Yet, when you think of the great composers of film scores, the name of Charles Bernstein does not immediately come to mind. It should.

Bernstein has been scoring motion pictures for 40 years now, his work gracing such pictures as the Charles Bronson cult classic Mr. Majestyk (1974), as well as a slew of grindhouse-style faves. But his work in the horror genre is what truly distinguishes Bernstein as an important composer of film music. For his material can be heard on the soundtrack of flicks like Love at First Bite (1979), The Entity (1981), Cujo (1983), April Fool's Day (1986) and Deadly Friend (1986).

But his most memorable work of all is undoubtedly the synth-laden, appropriately surreal and atonal accompaniment for Wes Craven's original A Nightmare on Elm Street in 1984. His brief Freddy Krueger cue (found below) is definitely amongst the most recognizable ten-note sequences in horror, if not in all of American cinema. Its warped, sing-songy flavor brilliantly sums up Krueger's character, a destroyer of childhood innocence--just as much as the iconic "One, two, Freddy's coming for you" jingle that permeates the film/series. We can forgive its '80s datedness because it possesses that most important trait of any film score--it fits the film for which it was written perfectly.

A supremely prolific and competent composer of film music, Charles Bernstein is a Juilliard graduate and gifted performer in his own right, having played jazz in the cellars of Paris, and folk music with Greeks and gypsies in the Balkans. He is the author of two esteemed volumes on movie music, and currently chairs the vice-presidency of the Motion Picture Academy with Tom Hanks.

"I have scored well over 100 films, yet when I begin working on a project it always feels like the very first one," Bernstein once said, and its that kind of approach that makes a score like A Nightmare on Elm Street--perhaps the only one for which he is truly known by casual movie fans--such an unforgettable and unique one.

Freddy's Theme

Monday, July 14, 2008

Scream 4 Announced - Neve Campbell Rejoices; Rest of World Mourns

Just when you thought it was safe to go to the movies and not see David Arquette, Dread Central is reporting today that the Weinsteins have officially announced Scream 4.

The announcement was made in a pretty much off-hand way, as part of a press-release detailing the Weinsteins' deal to distribute their 2009 theatrical slate to Showtime's pay-TV service. It just so happens that one of the films the release mentions as part of that slate is the long-rumored fourth installment of horror's most unnecessary series.

No further details are known yet, including whether or not Wes Craven will direct (unlikely) or whether or not the trinity of Neve Campbell, Arquette and Courtney Cox--who miraculously survived the original trilogy--will be returning (likely).

Starting off as a clever idea and a fresh new take on the slasher genre (not to mention a shot in the arm for Craven's faltering career), the series went rapidly downhill as soon as it became a series. The drop-off in quality was immediate, and what was at first a great concept just became pointless and repetitive. Nevertheless, they did make a hell of a lot of money, so it looks like Ghostface is off to the races again, kids!

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Kicking Ass for the Lord: 40 Years of the Modern Zombie Movie, Part 3

Ironically, as the 1980s drew near an end and the popularity of horror movies began to wane from what it had been, the zombie subgenre briefly returned to its pre-modern voodoo roots with Wes Craven's The Serpent and the Rainbow (1987). The film was inspired by Haiti's vicious Duvalier dictatorship and the real-life investigator who travelled there to look into the long-standing rumors of zombification practices. Although it abandoned the modern, Romero-esque take on the walking dead, the atmospheric chiller became one of Craven's most critically acclaimed efforts.

Nevertheless, The Serpent and the Rainbow proved to be a brief aberration. The first heyday of zombie movies may have been over, but Romero's influence of the genre was here to stay. As proof of that, in 1990 Columbia Pictures got behind a remake of the seminal classic Night of the Living Dead, penned by George Romero and directed by makeup effects wiz Tom Savini. In part an attempt to cash in on the success of the original to an extent that Romero was unjustly prevented from doing the first time around, the new version was a mixed bag.

Romero was lauded for transforming his female lead Barbara from a traumatized wreck into a strong-willed heroine. The remake featured several interesting new interpretations, but many fans felt it was hamstrung by the large studio involvement and the need to fit within R-rating parameters, something none of the previous films had been required to do.

With the dearth of quality horror films in the 1990s came a dearth of memorable zombie flicks as well. Horror was moving more into the mainstream, resulting in safer, less graphically violent pictures--meaing there was less and less of a place for cinematic flesh-eating.

But there were exceptions, and chief among them came from the other side of the world--New Zealand, to be exact. Maverick filmmaker Peter Jackson, who had previously opened eyes with Bad Taste (1987), created in 1992 what is to this day still considered by many to be the most violent motion picture ever made: Braindead (a.k.a. Dead Alive).

One of the reasons Jackson was able to get away with it was the fact that his movie was a comedy, and thus the violence was so completely and cartoonishly over-the-top that it couldn't possibly be taken seriously--reanimated (and flatulent) digestive tracts, zombie copulation, an entire room of ghouls dispatched with a twirling lawnmower, etc. Braindead became an international cult sensation thanks to home video distribution, and gave the sub-genre a much-needed shot in the arm.

Other major entries of the period that distinctly stood out was 1993's Dellamorte Dellamore (a.k.a. Cemetery Man), an Italian effort that harkened back to the "spaghetti zombie" days of a decade earlier; and Return of the Living Dead 3 (1993), which turned out to be a surprisingly effective installment in an otherwise tired series thanks to a bold move away from comedy in favor of a more serious tone.

But aside from some refreshing exceptions, modern zombie films experienced perhaps the lowest point in their popularity during the 1990s. Ultra low-budget and shot-on-video productions dominated the niche as it went decidedly underground. Yet by the end of the decade and turn of the new century, just as down-and-dirty horror was experiencing a resurgence, so would the cinema of the living dead in particular. The second great zombie movie explosion was at hand.

To Be Continued...

Part 1: They're Coming to Get You
Part 2: No More Room in Hell

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

There Will Be Blood Libel

By fellow League of Tana Tea-Drinkers member, Arbogast:

My first reaction upon seeing photos of the cast of the 2008 remake of LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT was "Funny, they don't look Jewish."

I consider Wes Craven's LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972) to be one of the great unintentional blood libels of the latter half of the 20th Century. I don't think for a minute that Craven is anti-Semitic but rather that he, like all of us, carries with him learned associations that exist apart from his conscious mind. Just as David Lynch has in the past identified a sense of evil in effeminacy (BLUE VELVET) and ethnicity (WILD AT HEART), Wes Craven particularizes in LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT his perception of pure evil with a distinctly Hebraic flavor. Though none of the characters identify themselves explicitly as being Jewish, David Hess' Krug is depicted as an obnoxious cigar-smoking "Jew Yorker" whose perpetual stubble, curly hair, olive-colored skin and outer borough accent code him as an obvious Heeb. Add to that, Krug has been convicted for the killing of a Catholic priest and two nuns.

Cast in the role of Krug's accomplice, Weasel Podowski, Fred J. Lincoln wears the slate-colored hair and slack suit of a Lower East Side alter cocker while both Jeramie Rain (as Sadie, a common Jewish name that also brings to mind Manson killer Susan Atkins, aka Sadie Mae Glutz) and Marc Sheffler (as Krug's schlemiel of a son, Junior) have "difficult" ethnic hair. Weasel's rap sheet identifies him as a child molester, which fits the historical blood libel that slandered Jews as sacrificers of children. The quartet is shown to be "animal-like," to inhabit a dirty tenement (a dwelling associated with foreigners) and, while transporting their kidnap victims from the city to the country, Krug and Sadie engage in rear-entry sex (coitus more ferarum, or "sex by way of the beasts"), a form of copulation frequently associated (however unfairly) with non-Christians.

The transition of the kidnappers/killers from the city to the country is a key element of LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT, illustrating an old white Anglo-Saxon fear of the contamination of suburbia's assumed purity by ethnic types (as Fairfield County, the film's location and setting, became a destination for upwardly mobile urban Jews post-World War II). The waspy surname of one of the victims and her parents, Collingwood, is eerily similar to Sadie's imaged alias (Agatha Greenwood), suggesting that Krug & Company aspire in some part to assimilate even while they shred the very fabric of Christian society.

In the film's most disturbing sequence, Krug, Weasel and Sadie kill their captives after stripping them and humiliating them sexually. When Phyllis tries to escape, she is run to ground, stabbed and then butchered in a scene that can't help but evoke shechita, or Jewish ritual slaughter. Phyllis' intestines are pulled out of her oozing abdominal cavity and examined, as a shochet would do to determine if a slaughtered animal were fit to be declared kosher. Obviously, Phyllis' disemboweling is not genuinely kosher but does suggest that Krug & Co. are operating on auto
pilot, as if by collective cultural memory, in the same way that their earlier torment of Phyllis and Mari echoed the treatment of Jews bound for concentration camps. The kidnappers seem to be maltreating their captives as a form of confused racial self-hatred, channeling ritualistic acts that both glorify and slander their ancestors.

Having killed Phylllis, Krug rapes Mari... but not before he uses a switchblade to carve his name into her sternum. This gesture reminded me of Rabbi Lowe scratching the word "EMET" into the forehead of The Golem. (With his helmet hair, Krug even resembles Paul Wegener's iconic
1920 interpretation of THE GOLEM.) As EMET is the Hebrew word for "truth," Krug's mutilation of Mari might be said to be his way of sending a wake-up call to WASP society, announcing both his arrival and his intention to destroy their four-square, missionary position world. (In this regard, Krug also bears a resemblance to the character of Berger from the musical HAIR, who comes to his position of iconoclastic hippie king from a distinctly urban Jewish environment.) And can it be mere coincidence that Krug comes to his decision to shoot Mari after having overheard her reciting the Lord's Prayer, as she wades into a woodland pond in a cleansing act of self baptism?

At this point it's worth remembering that LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT is a remake of sorts of Ingmar Bergman's THE VIRGIN SPRING (1960), a Medieval morality tale set at a time when Christianity was waging war against Paganism for world and spiritual dominance. LAST HOUSE hews closely to the VIRGIN SPRING template by having its spree killers (who pose as salesmen, and in so doing aligning themselves with Jews via the merchant class) taken in by Mari's parents, who feed them in a scene that mimics da Vinci's The Last Supper (while leaving an empty chair in the foreground - for Elijah?). Over the course of the evening, the truth comes out and Mari's parents turn on her killers. While the ensuing slaughter is strong stuff, the third act's oddest/most brutal bit of business is Mrs. Collingwood's oral castration of Weasel in a scene that seems to mock the Jewish rite of circumcision (thus explaining the chair left empty for Elijah). It should also be noted that she performs this act after first using Weasel's leather belt to bind his hands in what could be construed as an allusion to the philactery, the calfskin box containing Hebraic scripture that some Jews wear strapped to their heads and wrapped around their left arms during weekday prayers.

Again, I hasten to add that I don't believe ex-Baptist Wes Craven set out to slander the Jews with LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT but the Jewishness of the killers he created cannot be ignored. My feeling is that Craven was writing/casting/directing instinctively from a series of societal and cultural presets and prejudices. Certainly, living and working (first as a taxi driver and then as a young filmmaker) in New York, Craven would have had plenty of negative experiences with people of all ethnic persuasions. I half suspect Krug was modeled on a particularly noxious distributor who blew fetid cigar smoke in Craven's face while cheating him out of profits. However it all came together, these textures (real or imagined) give the original LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT intriguing layers of meaning. You won't find this kind of subtext in a New Millennium remake claiming to pay homage to 70s cinema while pissing all over a glorious, difficult and demanding decade that was never afraid to get blood on its hands.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

From Post-Mortem to Postmodern: A History of Horror Movies, Part 6

It seemed like the horror genre had nowhere else to go after the blood-drenched, boundary-pushing 1970s and '80s. And in a way, that was true.The 1990s is remembered by many as a lowpoint in the history of scary movies. And while that's a slightly inaccurate generalization, the decade did suffer in some respects as a result of the excesses of the years that preceded it.

On the one hand, you had many of the deathless franchises of the 1980s lurching forward, series like Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street and Halloween churning out sequel after sequel, burning out the moviegoing public in the process. New slasher series like Child's Play, Leprechaun and Candyman, while offering some new ideas, also added more fuel to the fire.

In addition to that, a backlash occured. Beyond the genre, American moviemaking in general became more conservative, reacting to the unbridled violence and sex of the previous generation with more restraint and less gratuitousness. Criticisms of the business had begun to have an effect, and filmmakers had finally gotten over the fact they could do certain things they couldn't before. Now they were being more prudent about when and how often to do them.

Within horror, the gore factor was greatly reduced. Of course there were some exceptions--the most notable of which was a certain 1992 horror comedy by New Zealand director Peter Jackson called Brain Dead (or Dead Alive in America). That offbeat zombie flick ratcheted up the onscreen violence to ridiculously unheard of levels, but played it for laughs all the way. Perhaps that was the only way Jackson got away with it.

Ironically, once the splatter scene became old hat, Hollywood made something of a return to the grand guignol of a bygone era. Gothic horror made a brief comeback, and even the old monsters got taken out of mothballs for movies like Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992), Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1994), Wolf (1994) and The Mummy (1999) (though the latter was reimagined as more of an action film.) Vampires in particular benefited from a "goth" movement that buoyed Anne Rice's series of novels to worlwide acclaim and led to a motion picture version of Interview with the Vampire starring mega-stars Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise.

The genre was lost in a way, heading in several different directions at once, unable to find its bearings. It was playing, after all, to an audience that felt as if it had seen it all. In hindsight, it seems only natural that the only thing to do under the circumstances was to deconstruct. For the first time, horror films became self-aware and self-reflective.

Just as he had been among the pioneers of the previous era, director Wes Craven led the pack again. Toying with the concept with 1994's New Nightmare, something of a coda to his Elm Street saga in which dream killer Freddy Krueger crosses over into the real world, Craven committed fully to self-aware horror with Scream (1996). A slasher flick in which all the characters seem to know about slasher flicks and all their cliches, the movie plays upon our expectations, injecting new life into a tired subject with a healthy dose of postmodern irony. Scream and its sequels, along with pics like I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997), led to an unlikely rebirth of the hack-and-slash subgenre.

After years of searching for a new identity, the horror genre benefited from the shot in the arm, and by the end of the decade seemed to be on the road to recovery. Yet it also seemed as if horror filmmakers everywhere had learned over the course of the 1990s that they didn't necessarily need buckets of guts to effectively generate terror.

Witness the types of films that led the renaissance in the late 1990s. In America, it was newcomer M. Night Shyamalan and his atmospheric, Oscar-nominated ghost story The Sixth Sense (1999). There was also the ground-breaking Blair Witch Project of the same year. Although the overdose of internet hype that accompanied the film may have sabotaged it to a certain degree, it was the ingenious decision to inspire fear through the hyper-realism of a so-called "mock-umentary" approach that makes the movie a landmark--and one of the biggest influences on the genre to this day.

Meanwhile, from overseas in Japan, a movement was spreading abroad that would have an even greater impact in America in the years to come. With Hideo Nakata's Ringu (1998) being the most well-known, Japanese horror would further reinvigorate the genre and open up new avenues to explore.

Horror had proven that it had a lot more life left in it. In fact, with the dawn of a new decade, it would soon become unimaginable that it had ever been in trouble in the first place. If the 1990s saw horror go into hiding, then the start of the 21st century saw it make up for lost time, exploding into the mainstream consciousness like never before.

Other major releases:


Part 1: The Silent Dead
Part 3: It Came from Hollywood
Part 5: Blood & Guts
Soon to come: Part 7 - Gore Goes Mainstream (a.k.a. The Final Chapter)

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Blood & Guts: A History of Horror Movies, Part 5

In the wake of the turbulent 1960s, the horror genre had been dramatically and permanenently altered. One taboo after another was being torn down, and it would be in the following two decades--viewed by some as the genre's second golden age--that the doors would be completely blown off.
In many ways, the 1970s represent an era in horror flicks which has yet to be equalled in terms of shocking themes, graphic violence and unflinchingly grim outlook. The demise of the restrictive Hays Code spawned two branches: one in which top-flight films began to be made with horror subject matter, and the other in which blood-soaked low-budget exploitation material meant easy money.
The success of Rosemary's Baby led to 1973's The Exorcist, often hailed as the most frightening horror film ever made. Whether or not it was, The Exorcist was a mainstream American film dealing with demonic possession--something that would've been unheard of just several years before. A series of occult and Satanic-themed pictures would follow, including Alice, Sweet Alice (1976) and The Omen (1976). All dealt frankly with matters of religion, and contained powerful dramatic performances.
On the other end of the spectrum, American audiences were confronted with a type of horror they were thoroughly unprepared for, and in the process some of horror's finest directors would make their names. Wes Craven emerged on the scene in 1972 with The Last House on the Left, featuring brutal scenes of rape and disembowelment. Two years later, Tobe Hooper created what was arguably the pinnacle of the subgenre, the nightmarish Texas Chainsaw Massacre. And in 1978, George Romero followed up his seminal '60s masterpiece Night of the Living Dead with Dawn of the Dead, this time ratcheting up both the gore quotient and the social commentary.
This explosion of explicit gore content was unheard of in the history of cinema, particularly American cinema--and it didn't go unnoticed outside U.S. boundaries. Other countries, most notably Italy, soon followed suit. Italian filmmakers such as Dario Argento, Mario Bava and Lucio Fulci churned out films that in many ways surpassed their American counterparts in terms of their power to both disturb and revolt.
Popular horror fiction writer Stephen King would become a force to be reckoned with in the movie world, as well. Beginning with 1976's Carrie, his novels and short stories would prove a fertile source of film material. Perhaps the greatest of them all would be Stanley Kubrick's The Shining (1980), quite possibly the best-made fright film ever.
By the end of the 1970s, the new style of horror was firmly in place, and even some of the old subgenres would begin to be reinvigorated by it. Ridley Scott gave us Alien in 1979, capitalizing on the success of Star Wars to bring back the horror/sci-fi movie. And it was the year before that John Carpenter produced a film that would take the territory first mined by Psycho to a whole new level, defining 1980s horror in the process.
Halloween was a new kind of horror flick, specifically, it was a slasher flick, portraying a superhuman, stalker/killer (in this case, Michael Myers) who systemically murders a series of hopeless victims over the course of 90 minutes. Although most still regard it as the high watermark of slasher movies, it spawned literally countless followers.
Chief among them would be Friday the 13th (1980) and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), the franchises which gave the world Jason Voorhess and Freddy Kreuger, respectively. The 1980s would be dominated by these types of horror movies and their limitless sequels. And although today a generation of fans who grew up on them look back with fondness and nostalgia, at the time they were viewed by critics and older fans as the genre's all-time nadir.
Nevertheless, by the early 1980s horror had begun to struggle again at the box office. Some point to the advent of VHS home video, with most low-budget flicks in general having trouble competing for audience dollars with massive Hollywood productions. Horror would find a new home in the video market, with releases such as The Evil Dead (1981), The Fly (1986) and Re-Animator (1985) becoming run-away hits with audiences that found it easier to pay less and watch in their own homes. In the U.K., this led to the phenomenon of the so-called "video nasties"--movies deemed by British censors to be unacceptable due to home video's availability to children. Naturally, these pictures would become the most sought-after for British horror fans.
The 1980s' other major contribution would be the proliferation of horror comedy. Although humor had always had a place in the genre, never before had gut-wrenching violence been so deftly meshed with black comedy as it was in such pictures as Sam Raimi's Evil Dead II (1987), Dan O'Bannon's The Return of the Living Dead (1985) or Peter Jackson's Bad Taste (1987). With the almost mind-numbing level horror movie violence had achieved, it was a natural reaction to spoof it.
The 1970s and 1980s produced some of the most powerful and disturbing horror movies ever seen. Some would even argue the genre hasn't reached similar heights since. Yet despite changing times, the standard set during those years would become a benchmark to inspire and motivate every horror filmmaker who came after.
Other major releases:
Part 1: The Silent Dead
Part 2: Gods & Monsters
Part 3: It Came from Hollywood
Part 4: The Times, They Are a-Changin'
Soon to come - Part 6: From Post Mortem to Postmodern
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