30 Days of Night

       Graphic novels have made significant gains in popularity and acceptance in the last couple of

decades. The idea that panels of stylized drawings  were once the realm of comics for children only is dead. Now graphic novels can tread into R rated material with surprisingly wonderful results. I enjoy digging into a graphic novel on occasion. As much as I love traditional novels, sometimes you want a good story that is quick and visual. 30 Days of Night by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith is one of the big ones to thrust horror graphic novels into the spotlight. In this case, the praise is well deserved. 30 Days of Night is a enjoyable read that feels classic and modern at the same time.

      The plot is a straightforward attack on the small Alaskan town of Barrow. As the arctic town experiences of a full month where the sun never rises, vampires decide to take the opportunity of the darkness to descend upon Barrow and feed at will.  It's a simple idea and brilliant at the same time. A small isolated populated area that is trapped in night for a month would easily top a vampire's vacation list. Then, this great idea is shattered by another equally simple idea: vampires need to remain hidden from the public view. After all, if people knew of them surely a mass effort to eliminate the creatures would assemble in no time. Vicente (the vampire elder) arrives to fix the mess of the town in order to keep the secret of the vampires safe. This was a great twist that in hindsight should have been obvious and yet was a surprise as the audience is still soaking in the brilliance of the vampires plan for the month long blood feast. The plot kept the momentum moving forward without adding anything unnecessary. Not a single character didn't have it's role to play nor a single scene that wasn't vital to the story.

       The visual part of the graphic novel I felt served the story well. A distinct atmosphere was created by the illustrations that made the story feel other-worldly and unique. The vampires and gore are displayed with a grotesque flair. This is what makes a graphic novel a different reading experience than a standard one. A traditional novel would have more room for character development and sub-plots and so on, however it's impossible to ensure readers see the story exactly as the writer imagines it. Each reader will fill in a traditional novel with their own imagination to some degree. In the graphic novel format, readers actually see what the writer intended with the style and atmospheres visually presented.

       The sub-plot with the Louisianian voodoo woman and her son I'm a bit on the fence about. The emails did give some foreshadowing and the son's arrival gave the reader a false hope of rescue for the remaining trapped people in Barrow. Could the story have done without them? No. Originally, this story was a movie pitch that wasn't picked up (funnily enough, it was made into a movie after the graphic novel did so well). I can see how the the Louisianian woman's attempt to get proof of the vampires would work in a film and it would be a way to leave the world open for a sequel. As the story has continued in graphic novel form, I'm sure this woman has popped up in future plots. So she has her place in the world and the story.

      As far as negatives go, there were some plot holes. How does our hero Eben manage to keep control of himself in vampire form? How do the survivors manage to live through an entire month in freezing temperatures without heat? Why does Vicente wait until the end of the month to try and stop the attack? Why does Eben transform so soon before the sun was to rise and the vampires were to leave? Honestly, these holes were easier for me to forgive than in many of the other works I've reviewed. I think this is in part due to the format. This was meant to be visually appealing and fun, so I read it with a little more lightness than a traditional novel. Characters were not as developed as they could have been, but again this comes down to format. The main focus here is on the quick story and the illustrations. Had this been a standard novel, I would have expected to get to know the characters far better.

      Overall, this is a great quick story that hits the classic monster vein while adding in a refreshingly modern appeal. Perfect if you are waiting in a doctors office or just feel that a concise creepy tale that you can finish in the span of drinking a cup of tea is right for the evening.

Relic

      I recall watching the movie Relic several years ago but was unaware the film was based on a novel. The film version was memorable for several reasons, however I wouldn't say it was something I would watch more than once. As so often happens, Relic by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child is superior to the movie adaptation. There were many elements of this book that hit the right marks for great storytelling, which help to smooth over its faults. This fun imaginative romp is a solid read that delivers to the crime drama/monster aficionado audiences.

      I haven't read too deeply into crime drama genre, but Relic blends the investigative plot structure of those stories with an impressive monster, the Mbwun. I will admit that for me personally, unraveling the mysteries behind the creature was the pull that kept me turning pages. Preston and Childs created a monster that mixed both superstitious origins with scientific explanation. Though I doubt the science side was realistic, I was able to suspend my disbelief enough to engage in the plot. The reveal of the history of the Mbwun wasn't a surprise, as I had seen the movie prior, but I can imagine that those unfamiliar with the story will enjoy the twists and turns throughout. I was also impressed by the empathy that is built for the Mbwun through the book. It is described at several points with a dose of sympathy. I felt this built a more complex creature than the purely evil monsters that often arise in fiction. The audience is able to see the Mbwun as more than just a murderous beast, if only a smidgen, which makes the end reveal of the creatures original form have even more emotional impact.

      The setting plays a big role in why I enjoyed this book so much. A museum is ripe with creepy atmospheres for a creature to lurk around in. It also created a sense of a world with in a world. The academic elitist arena where galas and new discoveries are displayed to achieve affluence and wealth. I felt Relic pokes at this thirst for notoriety and discovery throughout the plot. In a sense, one of the themes for this book is that it's possible to take the quest for knowledge and recognition too far. In fact, the catalyst for the plot is an anthropologist, Whittlesay exploring a lost tribe that is best left forgotten. The dangers of science without conscience has been explored in fiction before (look no further than Mary Shelly's Frankenstein for proof of that) however approaching that theme from the museum mentality is a refreshing twist.

      The pace of the book is wonderful in the first half, but it started to slow after the midpoint. The second half became cluttered with scenes that didn't drive the action forward or I felt were unnecessary. By the latter part of the book I expect us to be driving quicker to the climax and forgoing anything that might slow that momentum. At one point we are treated to a chapter that shows us the results of DNA sequencing (or genre recognition software, something like that) which dragged, when this information could have been condensed into a quick conversation rather than a whole chapter. However, this pacing may be more akin to how crime dramas build not horror.

      Another issue I had with the book was the long character list. I'm not saying a story should have a set limit on the amount of characters involved, but it did get overwhelming to a degree. There were times I forgot who was who or what their occupation was. This may also be on account of my inexperience with crime drama. I tend towards fiction that focuses on a smaller group of characters that I become intimately attached to. This book was more focused to the building mystery and the events as they unfolded. It is also possible that my quick read of this book made it more difficult to get into the characters since they were so numerous.

     I would probably be much more satisfied with the book if the epilogue had been taken out completely. I won't ruin this too much, but let me just say the epilogue seemed so implausible that it left a nasty taste after an otherwise delicious story. I understand the desire to have the horror live on, but Kawakita's drug ending went was over the little hint that most monster stories give that "it isn't really over, dun dun duuuuuunnnn."

     Overall, this is a good read. Fans of crime drama will be pleased with the monster element that makes the story fresh. Monster fans will find a wonderfully different take on a creature story. An entertaining read, just skip the epilogue.

The Blob (1988 version)

     

    The 1988 version of The Blob has undoubtedly become a cult classic monster flick. I remember watching this movie years ago and feeling rather indifferent to it, though I don't think I was really focused on the movie at the time. I hoped a revisit would sway my former opinion. Sadly, it did not. There was some great scenes in this film, no doubt about that, and yet by the end I felt rather underwhelmed. 

     Let's start with what the movie excelled at. The monstrous blob itself was a great creature. It has no remorse, can't be reasoned with, and is insatiable. The backstory provided explained enough without becoming dull and complicated. The deaths in this film were beautifully orchestrated. with what would seem like a rather simple way to dispatch its victims (by engulfing them and dissolving them) the kills were not repetitive. A failed date rape with the woman's shell housing the blob that strikes out once the would be assailant goes in for a grope. A man pulled down the drain of a sink while he is being dissolved. A woman trapped in a phone booth as the blob crushed the glass to rush in and absorb her. You get the idea. The visual effects were also top notch for the time. Some of the shots come off cheesy, but visual effects are bound to age.

     The setting of The Blob is the fictional town of Aborville, California. This little sleepy town praying for snow to bring economical prosperity reminded me of my little hometown of Big Bear Lake, California. I think for that reason the isolation of the film's location struck me personally. It gave the movie a nice claustrophobic feel to it. The characters are trapped in their little rut way of life when the blob descends upon them and the government quarantines them. There's nowhere to go.

     Now for the list of ways this movie failed. All the characters were stereotypes. You have your bad boy with a heart of gold, the cheerleader, the kooky bum, the evil government scientist, the crazy priest, the younger brother with his bad influence friend... and on and on. It was difficult to care about any of them as they were all shallow and typical sorts of people one would expect in a small town. They didn't feel like real people, just place holders. Although some seemingly innocent people die, there were a number of the '80's cliched immoral characters getting killed in horrible ways. The minute the camera lands on the two teens drinking and getting frisky in a parked car, you know there is going to be some gore following close behind. Much of the dialogue and plot was super cheesy and predictable.

     Plot holes were so abundant in this film you have to stumble your way through it. For example, the blob eats half of the bum in the hospital, then swallows up Meg's date whole, but leaves her unconscious right next to it. Also, she is the only one to respond to the screaming (the doctor and the staff apparently didn't feel the need to come running). Brian manages to flee a helicopter and a well trained government task force with great ease by merely jumping a broken bridge. Not a single bullet hits him. The blob is able to explode out the sewers, rupturing the street near the final confrontation and yet takes it sweet time breaking into the building or the windows of the snowmaker truck Brain is trapped in. I could go on. 

     The ending especially felt lack luster. After all the fabulous kills prior in the movie, the blob emerges to attack the gathered town as a huge wad of prechewed gum. It snatches some people as they run, makes a weak attempt at breaking into the building the rest have barricaded themselves in. I should care, The whole population is in peril, but honestly I'm not attached to any of the characters so I'm not really at the edge of my seat. Then the hero and heroine take turns saving each other while destroying the blob. He suddenly develops a case of caring about the community when he had previously been only interested in his own welfare. She magically becomes super bad-ass and goes on the offensive when she was previously running and screaming through the whole flick, relying on Brian. It was too quick a change in character that feel flat for me. Not to mention that these two teens somehow had the balls to confront this massive monster on their own after all the people they have witnessed it eating. It just stank of contrived to me. 

     Overall, I would recommend watching this to enjoy the death scenes and cheesiness. If you're looking for well-rounded characters or a plot that lacks oddles of holes, this one probably isn't for you.

Lovecraftian Goodness

The man himself, H.P. Lovecraft. Not the slightest bit creepy looking.

     As far as the horror genre is concerned, H. P. Lovecraft is widely considered one of the great writers that paved the way for the modern horror to flourish. Even if someone is unfamiliar with his name, his work is probably known to them in one form or another from Reanimator to the dreaded Cthulhu. For this entry, I'll be looking specifically at the short stories The Call of Cthulhu, The Outsider, and Pickman's Model from this highly revered author.

     In each of these stories, Lovecraft built a mythology for the frightening creatures. This focus on the lore of the monsters works as Lovecraft tactfully only gives glimpse of the whole, enough to stir fear while not so much that the sense of mystery is lost. Cthulhu and his cult are approached in a sequence of discoveries following the narrators trail through clues and events. By the end, the impending doom is palatable, and yet the full story of the Ancient Ones is denied. They are still frighteningly unfamiliar, which makes the story all the more terrifying. Likewise, the painted creatures described in Pickman's Model have a lore explained through the painting scenes that is both structured and yet vague. The creatures aren't even given a name, preserving that unnerving feeling of the unknown. The outsider travels through a dreamlike atmosphere before the revelation that it is unnatural is revealed. The audience is left with the impression that this is a deceased individual that has ascended back into the land of the living, but the exact details of the surreal depths remains a mystery, as does the specifics of who the individual was. Just a peek into the supernatural is shown, which keeps that unnerving suspense even after the story is over.

       Lovecraft utilizes the first person perspective beautifully in each of these stories. In The

Cover from R.J. Ivankovic's reimagining of The Call of Cthulhu. Isn't he cute?

Outsider, the narrator is revealed to be the monster in the end. However, seeing his journey through his perspective gives the audience some empathy for the character. We feel bad that this poor man is spending his 'childhood' in such deplorable surroundings and cheer for his accomplishments when he finally emerges into the moonlight. This made the realization of his undead state more frightful for the reader. Once they have made an emotional connection to the narrator, it is awful to know the character you have come to care for is the monster.

 

     Pickman's tale is revealed through his friend, who gives the account of what he witnessed. This perspective not only kept the details of Pickman's creatures secret but also allowed the reader to experience the fear the narrator felt through the plot. Pickman seemed to view the beasts he painted as kindred spirits, which would have been difficult for the reader to connect with had he told the tale. Also, the mystery of his disappearance would have had to be revealed. The narrator gave the audience a perspective the reader can empathize with, that of someone encountering the strange and delusional artist and what  depths he has descended for his art. 

      The Call of Cthulhu used first person to ground the story. With such a fantastical huge scale beast and mythology, it would have been easy for the author to accidentally make the premise seem fake. The narrator's initial skepticism and his retelling of the discoveries that lead to his eventual belief make the fantastical seem possible. This was an educated man uncovering the cult and creature through research, obviously he wouldn't be swayed to believe without substantial evidence. The evidence also provides several accounts of others encountering the Cthulhu mythology in some form, adding to the paranoia of secret cults and conspiracies. The first person point of view leaves the story open in the end. After all the information provided, there is no definite end resolved. Cthulhu lives on to haunt the dreams of the reader forever after.

      It is difficult for me to bring up any way these stories are lacking, as I've been a fan of Lovecraft since my teens. However, to be fair I must reluctantly point out some things. Lovecraft is a drawn out storyteller. These tales take some time to get rolling into full steam; don't expect to be hooked on the story from the first line. In the modern era where we expect instant gratification, this can disappoint readers. We are used to the quick paced stories that jump straight to main points. Lovecraft takes his time, simmering the plot. 

     Pickman's Model and The Call of Cthulhu are more of a factual look back to past events, which can drain some of the in the moment suspense and tension. The narrator is retelling the horror now that it's done with many sensory details left out, so the feeling of being there in the moment is dimmed. Even The Outsider, which is a more personal first person perspective, seems a bit removed from immersing the reader into the journey. The emotions of the narrator are not utilized as much as the stories come off more as documenting the events recalled rather than truly reliving them. For the record, I would like to point out that these negatives are more likely a product of the changing tastes of readers over the decades. These stories are close to a hundred years old. The audience at the time they were originally published likely didn't expect the fast, immersive story that we do today. 

      Overall, these are classic stories that I believe every horror fan should read. Love them or hate them, to analyze how Lovecraft struck fear into his readers is well worth the time. His influence can be seen in many modern horror writers' work. For those who delight in these tales, I would also recommend reading Dagon, Arthur Jermyn, and Herbert West - Reanimator (or really anything he wrote is enjoyable).

Godzilla

      As far as colossal monsters go, many people would count Godzilla as royalty. There is a long and impressive history this creature spans over, though I will admit I'm limited in my knowledge of his mythology. I'm not a big fan of disaster type movies as they seem to be more focused on the big special effects and destruction than characterization and themes. Many people enjoy these stories, it's just not my cup of tea. That being said, I was pleasantly surprised by the 2014 reboot Godzilla.

     I was expecting the sole focus of this movie to be on the monster and his path of destruction; giant monster rampages through city, government struggle to find a way to stop said monster, final battle with big explosions and carnage- the typical formula. This movie went deeper with it's plot line. Godzilla does not arrive to simply wreck metropolises, but to battle against the newly hatched MUTOs. I was a bit confused as to why Godzilla was hunting these other creatures. I was under the impression in the beginning that these MUTO's were parasites that feed off of the Godzilla species, then later it seemed as if they were Godzilla's natural prey, however at the end he slaughters them but does not eat them. So, I'm at a bit of a loss on the relationship there. That confusion aside, this added conflict served to give Godzilla an almost heroic role in the film.

      That doesn't mean that Godzilla was any less terrifying. Even though he was intent on destroying the MUTO threat, he trampled over a bunch of humans as if they were ants in the process. The look of the creatures was well done in my opinion. They didn't look too cheesy but prehistoric and foreign, as they should. Instead of being mutated into these beasts, this film had them being ancient beings that fed off a the natural radiation of the planet. This explanation worked fine for me, I was able to suspend my disbelief enough as it seemed a plausible reason for their existence. I was also pleased that the battles of the monsters and their destruction was shown as a continuation of the plot rather than the sole focal point. At several points, rampages are shown in only the bits that affected characters or even in glimpses on the news. The audience gets the point at how horrific these events are without getting an unneeded play by play. 

     The characters in this film were far more empathetic than I expected. The Brody family gave us an everyday family to root for that had reasons and skill sets that made it plausible for them to be in the midst of the battle. The Admiral Stenz and Dr. Serizawa played off each other with tension of their opposing views. The military approach versus the scientific/more pacifist path. It was easy to see both perspectives. It was also easy to see how these two characters furthered the plot with their actions. Serizawa allowed the male MUTO to grow and feed off the nuclear reactor. Even though he explains they were concerned about the radiation that would be released had they killed it in that state, the desire to study the MUTO is obvious as well. Stenz takes a risk by deciding to use nuclear bombs as a lure for the creatures and hopefully their destruction. This, of course, backfires as the MUTOs intercept the bombs. Characters made decision that ultimately made things worse which made them work even harder to achieve their goals. This is good storytelling. The audience is engaged with these characters because they are doing things that directly affect the story, not just characters watching on the sidelines until the final battle. 

     There were a few things that didn't work as well in the story, besides the confusion regarding

Godzilla's motivation. I was torn about Joe Brody's death. In the beginning it seemed apparent that he was going to be one of the lead characters, yet he was killed shortly after the first MUTO awoke. I thought it was a good twist as it made the audience feel the main characters were in real danger. At the same time, I felt he was killed off too quickly. Having him help with the situation a little longer, perhaps having some dramatic conversations with Serizawa regarding the deception of the what actually happened at the plant, would have added more emotional pull during his death. 

     His son, Ford has a too convenient story line. He always happens to be in the right place to be smack dad in the middle of the action, and just happens to have the experience and skills they need in all the military situations. San Francisco, where his family is, happens to be the final battle setting giving him a personal reason to engage. He is brave and true throughout, doing everything right from the beginning. It's not that I hated him so much as he seemed like a dull good guy to me. I had no fear he would fail because he didn't have any weaknesses. He was your standard American hero.

     Speaking of American, the conversion from Godzilla being a Japanese monster to an American one was apparent in this film. I'm sure this probably didn't go unnoticed to many fans of Godzilla. The film starts in Japan, but quickly travels across the Pacific. In the end, Godzilla is hailed as the savior of San Francisco. I'm not a big fan of the creature, as I mentioned before, but I can imagine the cultural appropriation maybe a negative for many fans. 

      Overall, this was an entertaining watch. It was far better that I had anticipated. This isn't a film that I will watch more than once, nor one that I would say has a deep impact on me personally. However, it was a fun flick to occupy a couple of hours. Audiences will get their money worth here, a quick plot, some good characters, and an appropriate amount of big kabooms. 

Snow

      Everyone has atmospheres that strike them a terrifying on a personal level. For some, it's their

A view of fresh snow from my childhood home

grandparents' dim and cluttered basement or that dilapidated house two blocks over. For me, nothing was eerier growing up that the forest across the street from my house covered in thick, blinding snow. Naturally, when I discovered there was a novel that warped snow into a monster that attacked small towns, like the one I grew up in, I was ecstatic. Surely, this would be the sort of book that would bring all my childhood unease into delightful horror fruition. Ronald Malfi's Snow delivered - at first. I wanted to love this novel, I really did. What I ended up with was a decent book that had the potential to be much more.

     The beginning of the novel had a killer atmosphere. The details and character development is strong and immersive at the start. The four lone travelers crammed into a rental Cherokee in a white out blizzard is tense. Then add in a lone wandering man that has a check mark on every item of my "this creepy guy isn't what he seems" list, and the audience is squirming in anticipation for what happens next. The evil entity is revealed in glorious fashion. As with all good things though, this great start doesn't last. The tension seems to recede over the course of the book. The atmosphere and detailed descriptions become little pockets within a plot line barreling forward. Every innovative element of he book was dragged down when it could have been placed center stage.

     The monsters were a unique and striking creation, especially at first. The idea of something as benign as a little flurry of snow being a blood thirsty entity is startling to say the least. These vapor snow creatures manage to materialize enough to penetrate and invade a body, creating a meat suit to walk around in. Then Malfi adds in that these meat suits eat flesh. The creatures attack and pursue the survivors, both in various snow varieties and body puppet forms, ruthlessly. In a sense, they were a wonderful twist on body snatching type monsters and zombies.

     I think the monsters would have been more impressive if the plot didn't descend into the stereotypical zombie survival structure. The protagonists, Todd and Kate, encounter hidden survivors in a rapid fashion as they scramble through town in an effort to withstand the snow terror. Each time a new stronghold is stumbled upon by the pair, the place and people that had managed to keep concealed for a week are attacked. The local survivors are taken out by various means and the protagonists move on. The audience has little time to develop any connection with the survivors the pair encounter before they are replaced by new survivor characters. This quick turn over made these other characters feel rather stereotypical. There's the lone teenage/young adult girl that's tough as nails, the sweet elderly couple. the psycho that assumes control with violence (who also plays the religious nut), and a whole sheriff's station of characters like the martyr, and the kids who end up turning on the protagonists. The audience gets a quick succession of the various manifestations of psychological mistrust that's expected for a story where anyone could be the enemy. The overall plot is nothing fresh after the popularity of the zombie genre. It's not bad, just a mediocre structure that lacked the innovation I was expecting for such a unique monster.

     The protagonists themselves were decently fleshed out. Todd is a man with a dark past desperate to make amends to his son and ex-wife. Kate is a woman unable to open up and therefore stays in an engagement headed nowhere. There issues are resolved in the end as Todd embraces his son and seems to come to some peace with his ex, while Kate has formed a more honest romantic bond with Todd. These character arcs worked fine, but none of their traits or issues had much effect on the main plot.

      Overall, this wasn't a bad book by any stretch of the imagination. Malfi's monsters are invigoratingly different than the scores of vampires and werewolves that occupy a big chunk of the horror genre. At it's best, the book is haunting in it's description and atmosphere. On the downside, there is little in the way of surprises as far as the plot and characters are concerned. Worth a read if your craving some frozen creatures on a cold winter's night.

   

The Thing

     

     I consider myself a horror movie fan, but I have a confession to make. I have never seen the classic John Carpenter's The Thing.  I know, how could I? Somehow, this movie slipped through the cracks of my to-watch list for years, and I can't exactly explain why. However, I finally managed to plant myself for an evening an take in this great flick. After watching it, I can  say with all certainty it now resides on my top ten list of horror classics.

      To briefly summarize the plot, a small group of people manning a research facility in Antarctica are thrown into a battle for humanity when an alien adversary that can take over and mimic any living form is revived from the ice and begins infiltrating their ranks. The Thing has a brilliant mix of the key elements I consider necessary for great monster horror. A claustrophobic and isolated feeling setting, unsettling imagery, psychological suspense, a well paced plot, and a monster(s) that doesn't disappoint. With these element strategically placed in the right proportions, the audience gets a chilling tale which is understandably a cult classic.

      The setting is the first thing that struck me about the film. An Antarctic research team isolated in a frozen landscape without anywhere to run to or anyone to come to the rescue anytime soon. The startlingly white surroundings are a perfect location for this story. Even before the alien presence begins it's rampage, the handful of residences are already stretched psychologically thin from their isolation. The frozen terrain is already highly dangerous. The creatures that descend upon them increase the tension they have already been dealing with to a boiling point.

      The movies starts with a lone dog, racing through the snow as a helicopter of Norwegians shoot at it from above. Already, the audience is drawn into the story by the conflict, which was brilliant. Typically, a horror story will start with a good spook then there is a slower build up to the next terrifying incident. This is where many stories can run into trouble. If the plot goes too slow, the audience is bored. Too fast and the potential for suspense and tension building is lost. Carpenter takes care to take this build up at a excellent pace with unnerving imagery that heightens the tension beautifully. Before the first encounter with  a live version of the thing exploding from the dog, the audience is treated to the creepy remains of the Norwegian site (corpse frozen in a suicide included), a ghastly deformed corpse still steaming, and a alien craft trapped in the ice. The autopsy of the deformed corpse is definitely squirm worthy. All this before the audience gets the first true glimpse at their enemy.

      Then, all hell breaks loose and the pace of the plot picks up at an ever increasing speed. The possibility of one or many of the crew being infected adds the psychological pressure of the inability to trust one another on already strained men. That internal threat is increased further by each horrific encounter with a former college turned thing which feeds back into the psychological terror. It's a masterfully played cycle that give the audience no safe refuge from the horror.

     The monstrous forms of the thing are truly spectacular nightmares. It's a credit to the special effect and makeup genius, Rob Bottin that the creatures still stand up today, even in the wake of modern computer generated graphics. Yes, there are some movements and moments where it's easy to tell there is puppetry and effects at play, but the whole is done so vivdly that they are overlooked in the terror of the moment. I personally feel the physicalness of props is always more frightening than overly flawless computer generated effects that can enter into uncanny valley before they can the actual setting of the movie. Maybe I'm just old school in that regard.  I felt the way Carpenter chose to portray the things as each unique was a smart move. The plot explains this organism takes over other organisms on a cellular level and mimics them perfectly until it is time to attack. It makes perfect sense that the resulting manifestation is a grotesque hodge-podge of various biological masses and unknown alien appendages. Plus, it looks scary as all hell.

      As with any film or book, there are always some places that are weak. This film was rather devoid of humor. That was especially evident to me after recently watching An American Werewolf in London. This is a matter of personal taste. Some people want more humor mixed in with their horror than others. I tend to prefer a level of humor that is fitting to the tone of the story, and this film was had a serous tone. If you expect some good chuckles out of your scary movies, you will find them few and far between here.

      The final battle scene with McReady against the former Dr. Blair didn't meet my expectations. The film had been building brilliantly up to that point, then the Blair thing easily takes out the other two survivors and makes an overdone entrance as his grotesque form only to be blow to smithereens moments later.  It felt more flash than substance. Less of a battle and more a quick kill for McReady, as there was very little back and forth between the two.

      Part of me is slightly tempted to remark on the lack of any female characters in this film. There are women who do go out to these research faculties. Why aren't they represented? However, I wonder if adding a female character would have been a negative. The dynamic of the men trapped in their little section of the frozen tundra would probably have been different with a woman. It would add layers of sexual tension and possibly battles over her favor, or even some sexist behaviors or attitudes. That is a great deal of complications that would have slowed the plot down. As it is, the men are miserably lonely and the lack of possible female companionship surely plays a role in that. I don't say this often, but I felt the all male cast was justifiable in this case.

      The final scene of the movie can be satisfying or a let down depending on the individual audience. McReady survies the blast from the final battle and settles in waiting to freeze to death. He is approached by Childs (another survivor) who has a flimsy excuse for disappearing. The two eye each other suspiciously, discuss their impending deaths, and the film ends with the audience unsure of the outcome. Are they rescued? Is Childs infected? The audience is left to ponder these things for themselves.Those who prefer a happy ending for the protagonist with all the loose ends tied up will find this a miserable close. I actually enjoyed this end. It felt appropriate in a film riddled with unknowns to have an open ended finish that left me still fearful as the credits rolled.

      Overall, this is an absolute must see for any horror fan. Great story well executed with gory special effects. A suspense fulled fun fest of alien grossness. Don't let this slip down you to watch list.

     

     

An American Werewolf in London

Blue Moon...

     Ah, the 80's. A time when horror films branched out further with more gory effects and dark humor. Throw in some gratuitous sex, maybe some rock and roll and voila- entertainment of the warped variety. John Landis' An American Werewolf in London (1981) is another film widely considered a classic in the genre, and with good reason. The twisted humor and visual effects blew away the audience of the time.

      The story is fairly straightforward; David and his friend are attacked by a werewolf on the road to London. David survives, only to become a werewolf himself and wreak havoc on the metropolis before he is gunned down. Add in a sexy nurse to romance with, a creepily cultist rural pub, and the undead victims of werewolf attacks, including David's deceased friend, and you have a film that still stands up 35 years later. The beauty of this film is not in the story line per say, but in the manner in which the story is told. The cliche traveler turned monster tale is infused with pop culture from the era and a dark humor bend that makes the plot feel fresh.

     The rock and roll modern vibe brings the werewolf out of the old secluded villages into modern day. There are at least three versions of Blue Moon played throughout the film and even Credence Clearwater's Bad Moon on the Rise (small side note, as a kid I was positive this song said "there's a bathroom on the right"). This may seem unimpressive today as many horror films utilize popular rock music, but at the time this was a new approach in the genre. The dream sequence where David's family is attacked my mutant Nazi monsters feels very much like a poke at the Neo-Nazi punk movement of the time. The sexy nurse Alex's flat if a treasure trove of little pop culture references, like Micky and Minnie Mouse figurines. The Muppets make a brief appearance. You get the picture, these bits took the werewolf out of the old 1940's Universal monster era and dropped it snap dab into the early 80's.

     Humor is sprinkled through the story to wondrous effect. David's nude romp through the zoo. David's undead friend, Jack is full of sarcasm and wit. His personality becomes even more amusing as his body decays. He is chalk full of best friend quips and that causal tone with David while deteriorating to nearly a skeleton, sitting in a porno theater. Oh, the theater scene. The interaction of all the victims with David is pure gold as far as funny goes, and then by the time David, in werewolf form, is creating chaos on the streets I was laughing out loud. I have a twisted sense of humor and this movie tickled my funny bone in perfect ways.

     No review of this movie is complete without mentioning the special effects and makeup.I much prefer the physical feel of puppets, makeup, and costumes over computer generated special effects. This movies is one of the pinnacles of the physical variety of special effects. The transformation scene is astounding, considering the old style of cuts of various stages of makeup application. Wolf claws forcing their way through fingers, limbs elongating and warping. Really brilliant stuff here. As a former makeup professional, this movie kills in that department.

     As always, I have to mention the little issues with the work. One is the relationship between David and Alex. I can believe that the nurse is attracted to someone they pity and want to take care of. I also can believe how Alex's affection could be appealing to David who is in turmoil, alone in a foreign country. However, the speed of this couple's relationship is tough to swallow. In a mere few days, they go from patient and nurse, to live in lovers, to Alex risking her life in a dark alley to save David. It's breakneck fast, and came off improbable to me. The lack of in-depth information on the werewolf curse is both a positive and a negative. The information isn't really needed to keep the plot going. At the same time, I'm left with a lot of questions that leave me itching for answers. Especially regarding the tavern and it's patrons. The village knows of the curse, why haven't they wiped out the werewolf before David and Jack come to town? How is Jack sure David is the last one? Why did the police cover up the case? Part of me feels this is nit-picking, as this was meant to be a fun romp with a modern twist on an old monster. The other part of me feels I've been denied much of the juicy bits of the werewolf mythology.

      Overall, this is a great entertaining movie with a funny slant. Well worth watching if you are a fan of the 80's, a werewolf buff, or just looking for something gruesome to laugh at.

Alien

     I can't dig into classic groundbreaking horror films without considering Ripley Scott's Alien (1979). The alien monster from this movie has become a permanent fixture in popular culture. Furthermore, the crossover between sic-fi and horror of Alien surpasses the cheesy attempt of scary alien flicks of the 1950's to create a truly unique experience that has been an inspiration for decades to follow.

     Alien put a unique spin many of the typical tropes of the horror genre. Instead of a cast of teens/young adults, the characters are a wide age bracket of professional adults on a job. This allowed for more distinct characterization than many of the slasher films of the time. No stereotypical group of teens being torn apart here. Weaver's portrayal of lead protagonist Ripley is monumental in horror. While former horror tales had a female lead, they were typically weak, scared girls that were traumatized through the story. Ripley is hard as nails throughout, being more of a warrior type of character than a trembling lady is distress. I could spend this entire review discussing the feminist boost from this character (that is preserved throughout the series) but there are other elements of the film that make it the success it is.

     The setting is another trope spin. Isolated locations are a standard in horror. The small rural town, the dark forest, and the towering mansion on the hill, all miles away from any other human that could help. Alien takes the audience even further; a lone spaceship, thousands and thousands of miles from another human inhabited site. Isolation in an extreme sense. Layered on his hopeless isolation is the foreign feel of the setting. A distant future, a strike and uncomfortable space ship, and an alien terrain. There is no place for the characters that the audience feels comfortable and safe in. The atmosphere is unsettling even before the alien creatures make their debut.

      Arguably, the creatures of this film are the best part of the movie. Ridley Scott reveals them over the course of the movie in a masterful manner that creates an increasing level of suspense. The aliens change throughout the plot, allowing the audience to grow more apprehensive as the story unfolds. From egg, to face clinging creature, to chest piercing phallic infant, to full blown fanged, tentacle beast, the monster reveal is drawn out in the most delicious tension. The audience asking 'what is this?" the whole time. The slow burn of suspense has the audience on the edge of their set, while still giving them the action they crave. No monster lurking in the trees, just watching potential victims. The alien is squirming with a chest cavity ready to break out and devour. Even in adult form, the aliens have surprises for the viewer, such as the grotesque second mouth and acidic mucus. I have to mention H. R. Giger's brilliant monster design (RIP genius). The aliens are both believable as living creatures and completely alien (pun intended) to the audience.

     No piece is without some faults. As with any film, the age will inevitably show. The interior of the space ship feels very much like the late 70's early 80's idea of the future (how could it not?). This is easy to forget once the viewer gets into the story. The genre blending of sci-fi and horror is as much of a weakness as it is a strength. This blend makes a unique story and setting. However, for those unfamiliar with hard science, this can be a lot to process. Not only is there a great deal to learn about the monster, the audience is dumped into a different time and place. This can be off putting to some viewers who prefer a more straightforward story. The werewolf attacking a small town is much easier to digest than a complicated futurist space station. Watching this with my mother is frustrating, as she will have twenty billion questions regarding what the crew is doing on this planet, how all the space travel works ect. upfront instead of trusting the movie will reveal everything.

     Overall, a fantastic movie. This should be a movie watched multiple times by fans of sci-fi and horror. It's a great example of the possibilities of cross-genre awesomeness.

Night of the Living Dead

     They're coming to get you, Barbara...

   
     Film can be a powerful medium of storytelling. I'm not talking about Oscar bait dramas or Summer blockbuster extravaganzas (though those can be highly entertaining too). I'm talking about the rare films that strike a nerve in culture that ripples inspiration for decades after it. George A. Romero's Night of the Living Dead (1968) certain qualifies as one of those films. If you haven't already guessed, I'm a huge fan.

      A quite rural area in Pennsylvania comes under attack by swarms of the undead seeking human flesh. A small group of survivors is boarded up together in an old farm house, battling for survival. "So what?" I can hear you say, "This has all been done before." Actually, that's the kicker; this film was the genesis of the modern zombie genre as we know it today. Alright, I admit that it's evident that Romero took some inspiration from I am Legend, but he took the good elements of the monster epidemic and made them all the more gruesomely appealing. The gore and violence were quite bold for the time. Much of the later splatter genre flicks owe a huge debt to this film.This movie literally made zombies the meat gorging, shambling, animated corpses we think of today. Before this film, a zombie was a living person under a voodoo curse. Any horror fan has to acknowledge this film's massive impact on the genre.
     
     The plot itself seems fairly simple, but there are many messages and themes that struck at the American lifeatyle of the time. People were watching the violence of the Vietnam war in their living rooms. Here, Romero has the survivors crowed around watching a television, desperate to find some answers and hope in the face of the violence outside. It's not hard to see the similarity. There is some fleeting ideas on the fade of religion from society. The only praying is by Barbara at her father's grave before the first zombie arrives. Barbara's brother admits he doesn't attend church much. Once the mayhem starts, no one is praying for salvation. As if religion is an old custom that does nothing in the face of a real enemy. The break down of the traditional family unit is seen by Mr. and Mrs. Cooper's combative relationship. The rebellion of the youth displayed as the Cooper's daughter feasts on her father and murders her mother.
   
     Racism is addressed beautifully, without being preachy but making the viewer really think about African American oppression. The hero is a black man, challenged by the arrogant and selfish white Mr. Cooper. Though Mr. Cooper never refers to Ben (our hero) derogatorily regarding his skin color, the audience can feel the man's need to dominate and take control of the situation. He assumes Ben is beneath him and is infuriated when the others follow Ben's leadership. At one point, Mr Cooper refuses to open the door to let Ben back into the house as zombies trail him. Then at the end, when we dare to believe that Ben is being saved, the redneck police militia shoot him down without any thought at all. The black hero being murdered ending, especially since Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated earlier in the same year the movie was released, makes a huge statement.

     The ending is traumatic, even without factoring in the civil rights message. The audience is rooting for these characters to survive. Barbara's emotional frailty after her brother's death, the young lovers' fierce devotion, the family's struggle to protect their child, and Ben's determination to persevere all allow us to sympathize with the characters. Romero picks them off and the audience is ultimately crushed when they realize all the efforts were futile. All hope is lost. Our hero is dragged onto the pile to be burned up as if his life and actions meant nothing at all. It's a depressing ending, but one that mirrors a feeling of hopelessness for modern day man. After all, it was the human space probe radiation that caused the dead to rise, so humanity has doomed itself. I would argue many people feel that we are our own destruction even today.

     Now, for some negatives. I hate to comment on them, as this is such a classic, but there are some issues modern viewers will come across. The film had not aged well visually in many regards. Compared to the modern special effects makeup and spectacular gore effects, much of what was terrifying when this film was released looks campy and tame to us today. The choice to film in black and white gives the movie a distinct gritty, noir look, but depending on the version you're watching it can be difficult to see the details. The soundtrack is odd. At some points there are spooky sounds while other scenes are surreally quiet without any score. Many of the inside scenes with the group of survivors talking feels very much like a stiff stage play. These things are really due to the age of the film. Still, it can be hard for a modern audience to look past all these little aged effects and awkward bits to get to the meat of the movie.

     Overall, this is a must see for any horror fan. Push the presentism aside as much as you can and dig into the flick that made the zombie a monster phenomenon. Really, stop reading and go watch it now.

World War Z

   

   
      I fully admit I adore zombies. As far as monsters go, zombies are capable of terrifying the pants off of an audience (if done right) and provide ample opportunity for social commentary and symbolism. I'm sure it's fairly evident at this point how fond I am of deeper meanings threaded through a story. I'm on the fence with how I felt about Max Brooks' World War Z.

     I've heard a ton of great things about this book. Right from the start, I had some high expectations for the novel. Did it meet them? Yes... and no. First, I was blown away by Brooks unique approach and world building. Typical zombie stories follow a small group of survivors in a limited part of the world as they struggle to survive. Brooks went for the full globe, as in a view of the devastation of the undead in numerous countries from multiple perspectives. The world politics play a role in how the war unfolds, especially attempts to control fear and combat the zombies. Brooks makes this global view personal by having the perspectives of individual interviews. These personal takes on the events give the reader the human emotion of the book. The plausibility of the world is solid and well plotted. At no point did I feel Brooks' traumatized world was unbelievable.

      Brooks approach to use interviews to construct a global history of the zombie war is genius. After reading books and watching movie after movie following the same band of survivors plot line, this was refreshing. Brooks tried something different, and the resulting world is fascinating. However, this is a double edge sword. Part of the benefit to following a group of survivors is that the audience will become emotionally invested in their survival. Readers care what happens to these people. Since Brooks chose such a global perspective through interviews, it was difficult to feel attachment in the same manner to individual characters. Characters were a vehicle to experience the overall feelings of horror and political/social commentary. The standard expectations for an immersive novel, like story arcs and character development are missing. Instead, we have a series of interviews that feel more like a means for Brooks to comment on the politics of war and American isolationism rather than a true horror story. The truth is, an audience is more emotionally concerned about individual people they connect with, than the general 'us' that is humanity. Yes, we care are about the global population, but we are going to be terrified when the singular character we empathize with is in danger. This book felt more like a tragic news story regarding people from another country; something removed enough that I felt only a basic level of sympathy. It far more upsetting if I personally knew the people involved.

     The individual interviews read rather dry to me and it seemed that the characters didn't have unique voices. This took me far longer to read than if I had compelling characters or a conflict fueled plot to keep me turning pages. I tried to switch back and forth from the audio book and the print copy to pull through. The variety in voice actors for the audio version helped somewhat to break up the monotony, but the interview format still grew tired quickly. Especially since there wasn't tension building around the chance of the character dying. They are telling there account of events after the fact - I'm not fearful they won't survive. They obviously did in order to tell their story. However, I've never been a fan of telling a story through interviews, articles, and journal entries. I would rather be experiencing the action with the characters instead of hearing their thoughts on it in retrospect.

     Overall, I would say this book isn't bad, just that I'm not the audience for it. For a different perspective, my husband loved it. He is quite the history buff and enjoyed building the story of the war in his head from the interviews. For me, this was a chore to read, even if I did appreciate certain elements of the book. I was starving for a story, and this felt more like a case study. To each his own, I suppose.

The Yattering and Jack

     Demons and the structure of Hell is a playground horror writer's often delve into. That's not surprising, seeing as the religious underworld is ripe for all manner of mayhem and evil. In Clive Barker's short,The Yattering and Jack, there is an intriguing twist on the idea of  demonic conquest of a human soul. Barker creates a story that blends a dose of horror while the blurring the line between monster and man.

      The battle for Jack Polo is waged in his home with a humorous slant as the lower demon, the Yattering, is assigned to destroy his sanity and thereby acquire his soul. Barker paints Jack as a rather dull man. He's a pickle dealer, a 9 to 5 working man, who shrugs off any emotional turmoil that is slammed against him with a "che sera, sera." This drops the reader directly into tension from the start. The Yattering is charged by his underworld masters to remain in Jack's house and drive him mad, yet this unremarkable man seems numb to every attack. Barker uses this to create a strange sense of empathy for the lesser demon. He has a job that is frustrating and unrewarding. In some ways, the reader is rooting for both Jack and the Yattering, while feeling a smudge uncomfortable with the realization they feel something other than fear and contempt for a demon. This tension only further increases as Jack is revealed to be knowledgeable about the Yattering's plan. The addition of Jack's daughters during the holidays and the Yattering's increasing activity builds the tension even further and sets a time restraint. The Yattering needs to leverage the daughters during the visit to win Jack's soul. Jack needs to keep a calm front until the opportune moment to best the demon. The explosion is primed to go off.

     One of Barker's strong suits is to add just enough detail for the audience to get a feel for the characters and horror, but leave out enough for the individual reader to fill in the details. The Yattering itself is described visually very sparingly until the end (even then it is wide open to interpretation). During the Yatterings attacks, he often whispers obscenities in Jack's ear during showers, with the hope this will either make Jack question his own sanity/goodness or act upon the suggestions. Barker leaves the details of what these obscenities out, allowing the reader to conjure up their own twisted and/or perverse ideas. Such tactfully excluded details allow the reader to customize the horrorific elements of the story to what scares them personally.

     As I'm sure I've mentioned before, theme and message are elements of a story that I'm particularly fond of. This is another area where The Yattering and Jack shines. Although religion isn't discussed too in depth, it is vital to the story. Barker plants subtle ideas that reflect this theme. The showdown at the climax is set during Christmas, a time typically celebrated for religious reasons. His wife commits adultery and suicide, which are sins. While Jack isn't portrayed as religious, the idea of religion pops up to remind the reader of the weight of what's at stake for Jack.

      Hell is one of the key players in this story, and the idea of escaping damnation and receiving redemption are delightfully warped. Early in the story the reader is given a slim backstory as to why Jack is the target of the powers of Hell. His mother promised his soul, as well as her own, to them only to slip out of the deal by later joining the church. Hell has a claim on Jack and they intend to have him, especially after the insult of losing his mother. While Jack's mother was redeemed, it is also worth noting that she didn't make good on her word. She out tricked the tricksters. Jack follows her example, trapping the Yattering as his own slave. Barker makes the reader wonder if Jack is truly on the side of good if he is willing to engage the evil powers. This leads to the bigger message of the story: who is the real monster between man and demon? The Yattering does wicked things throughout the story including killing three pet cats, one by explosion (I'll admit, that was a particularly fun scene for me). The demon is there to complete an evil task, and is putting the innocent daughters in danger to do so. Yet, these are all his responsibility, his job. Jack is able to choose his course while the Yattering's hands are tied, and Jack chooses to enslave the demon at the risk of being denied Heaven.

      I was annoyed by the bit of head hopping during the later half of the story. Barker switches from only indulging the audience in the Yattering's thoughts to diving into Jack's mind as well. To some degree, I can understand the necessity for this in this piece. The beginning suspense of Jack's apparent lack of reaction to the Yattering's antics would have dissolved if the reader would have known from the get go that Jack was doing this on purpose. The Christmas chaos would have been hard to fully develop from only the Yattring's or Jack's view. Still, it is somewhat of a pet peeve of mine that knocks me out of the story when we are switched without warning to another head.

       The humor in the story wasn't as pronounced as it could have been. Barker describes the incident with the turkey and the spinning tree and living room items in a more serious tone. I'm not sure if he intended this to be funny, but the situations seemed ripe for amping up the ridiculousness of the occurrences, especially since it put the mischievous slant on the Yattering. This is a matter of opinion, of course, but I felt the humor wasn't quite at the level it needed to be.

     Overall, this is a great story that will unnerve readers a touch and give them something to think about while being entertaining. The flaws are small and easy to overlook once your engaged in the story. Well worth reading.

Cycle of the Werewolf

     Stephan King is probably the best known horror writer of the modern era. His works are easily accessible, making them appealing to not only horror fans but those who read the genre lightly, if at all. The Cycle of the Werewolf is one of King's earlier works. A short book that spans the full moon attacks on a sleepy Maine town over the course of a year. This novel is broken down into each month's werewolf antics, with illustrations. I had conflicting thoughts on this book.

     First off, the setting was well developed. King paints a strong image of the little town of Tarker's Mills.  As someone who grew up in a small town, King nails the atmosphere extremely well. Everyone knows everyone and if something dark happens, the town is buzzing with gossip.The characters are more or less an extension of this setting. They are less deeply unique individuals so much as a way to further grow the setting. The way the people interact and their personalities are to bring life to the town, not for the reader to develop relationships with these characters. While this helped to give the reader a sense of the place, it also makes for an attached audience. The fate of the characters doesn't feel as emotional as they are grazed over and little time is spent with them. To some degree, this helps with King's appeal to a broader audience that doesn't want to have too close a connection to characters that will be brutally murdered.

     The way the chapters are segmented into each month's full moon helps to make the plot quick. All

the in-between day to day of the town is jumped over to the next werewolf occurrence. However, this also made the first half of the book a dull recount of the werewolves attacks with little connecting plot. It wasn't until the July attack that any real threads of plot started to draw me in. Up until that point there are descriptions of each murder, and some foreshadowing. If this was a full length novel, the time to get into it could be forgiven. In a short novella, the first half of repetitive killings is tiresome. The reader needs suspects and a protagonist to root for far sooner than this story provided. Overall, the plot can be simplified to the months of July, October, November, and December. Everything else has some foreshadowing and fluff.

      The foreshadowing is super obvious. Again, this adds to that King appeal to a broad audience as even those who don't regularly read horror have a strong idea of what will happen. The Reverend's dream straight out labels him as the beast. The abusive husband meets a gruesome death. The arrogant dim-witted cop gets it. The reader knows what they are in for. Stephan King provides the predictable plot well. If you are hoping for some big twist or surprises they aren't here, though this is an older work so it may have seemed fresher when it was first published.
 
      The themes of the story are soft. There is some introspection from the reverend regarding God and his will. The disabled boy rises to be the hero of the town despite his physical limitations. This was a simple show, so King doesn't dig too deep. For a light read, that's not a bad thing per say. I personally wished there had been more to this story.

      Lastly, the illustrations were both a blessing and a curse. The illustrations added a nice visual and gave the short novella a page count boost. I would have been happy with the images if they had been better placed. At numerous places there was a full page illustration of the murder that was described in the following pages. So the reader already knows what is going to happen. In fact, it would have been possible to skip the rest of the month after those key images as the reader already gets what happens next. This was frustrating. Why keep reading? The last full page depicts the hero child shooting the werewolf long before the creature even arrives. Ending ruined, not that it was a twist one. The edition I have is from 1985, so newer editions have have remedied this problem.

      Overall, this is a quick easy read that you don't have to think too much about. It's a good book for those who don't read much horror or just want something light to skim over. I wouldn't say it was a bad read, but I wouldn't say it was a great one either.

Rawhead Rex

   

     When it comes to terrifying monsters, Clive Barker doesn't disappoint. I may be a tad bias as I'm a big fan of his, but the story Rawhead Rex from Clive Barker's Books of Blood is an exemplary example of Barker's ability to create a believable monster that crawls into your deepest nightmares. Rawhead Rex is a unique and terrifying take an the ancient evil creature that rises to prowl the unprepared modern streets. I ate up this story, no extra rows of teeth required,

      Let's start with the monster this story is named after, Rawhead Rex. The descriptions of the creature are disturbing and clear. There is plenty to get a solid idea of what this being looks like without being overburdened by imagery that isn't needed. Barker gives Rex enough of a backstory for the audience to understand his motivation and yet leaves enough mystery to keep the fear of the unknown vibe about the monster. The reader also gets some glimpses into Rex's perspective, which make his attacks all the more horrific. He has no regard for human life, in fact, he relishes destroying it. He is also more complex than a creature simply bent on rage and destruction. Rex has the capacity to learn and plot, which makes him all the more dangerous.

       This story has a heavy does of gore. Barker is careful to create a plot and strategically plan out each death so as not to cross over into the realm of mindless gore-porn. Many of the characters that meet a grisly end have an flaw that Barker focuses on before their end. The farmer in the beginning is stubborn to a fault, Detective Sergeant Gissing has a pedophilic recurring dream, and Declan has become demented. In each of these cases, the audience is able to accept the gore as they see the fault in the character. Their fates may have been extreme, which still ramps up the terror, and yet the audience doesn't feel they are witnessing innocent people being mutilated for the sake of splatter alone. The Nicholson family is left intentionally vague, especially the child that Rex devours. Barker doesn't give us the detail or the needed time to fully invest in those characters so that the carnage becomes akin to watching the nightly news and hearing about a horrible murder. It's scary, but since we don't know them personally, it's easier to swallow the murders since they are distant. Ian's death is soften by his submission. The boy has seen this happen to him in dreams and therefore accepts his fate. Barker has masterfully given us a story that turns the stomach while the reader keeps flipping pages as the gruesome deaths all have a cushion.

     The real jewel of this story for me is the numerous themes that flow through it. One being this is a story about worship and what is worthy of worship. Rawhead Rex has ambition to be a king or, more likely, a god. Declan indulges him in this aspiration, but Rex has his sights set upon all of humanity. Coots is devoted to his Christian beliefs, yet even he wavers in the face of the monster. His role is that of the wise man that points our Protagonist, Ron, to the Creature's weakness. Yet, he is more than that. In many ways, Coot is the representation of our modern disillusion with religion. His God doesn't save him and he must make peace with the knowledge that either God wished him to die  or that God doesn't exist. Ron ends up finding the fertility idol that is Rex's weakness. It is up for debate if the Goddess had some unique power over Rex or if it simply preyed upon his fear. After all, it was the people that ended up taking the monster down and not some divine power. It leaves the reader to ponder if any of the potential deities were really worth worship or if humanity in itself was the true power of this story.

      Another theme is the concept of female fertility plays an important role in this tale. Rawhead Rex ponders his strange relationship with human woman at several points in the text. He has an aversion to women on their period, yet also muses about how he (and presumably other creatures like him) dragged women off into the woods to rape them and then watch die as they wouldn't survive the birth of a half-bred. This was to gain power over them. Whether it is the woman themselves that frighten the monsters or the Goddess that represents fertility is interesting to consider. As much as the female power of procreation scares him, the results of that ability are a delight to him. Children are his favorite treat. Thus, he has a strange dynamic that leads to his demise.

      I did find a few things I felt detracted from the story. The third person omniscient POV was distracting at times as the jump from one person's head to another was often sudden and without warning. This POV isn't generally my taste as it makes stories feel impersonal and I can't fall into them as much as I want to. I also really wanted this to be a longer work, preferably a novel length story. There was so much that could have been expanded upon and the town and characters could have been more dynamic in a longer piece.

      Overall, this is an amazing read. If you get your hands on any of the Books of Blood, make sure to savor every bite.

   

Breeding Ground

       I was excited to dig into Breeding Ground by Sarah Pinborough as the monsters in the tale are not the typical zombies or vampires that have been overdone in the apocalypse genre. Instead, a psychic spider-like race of creatures develop from within human hosts to bring about the end times. What a lovely twisted concept. It is such a pity that fabulous concept isn't fleshed out into an engaging book. 

Image by Elfodelbosque

       In my family, I am the designated spider disposer. I scoop spiders that have found their way inside up in a cup and take them outside while the family shrieks in terror. The husband and kids have a case of overactive Arachnophobia. I, on the other hand, am quite fond of spiders. They are graceful impressive creatures. Our local Arizona orb weavers decorate my house regularly with magnificent webs. I ensure the Hubby doesn't spray incest poison around tarantula mating season so they can cross our property safely. I mention this because the monsters in Breeding Ground are infinitely more terrifying for those that fear spiders. Obviously, this aspect of them didn't affect me so much. The way they come into existence was horrific, but the spiderness of the Widows didn't phase me. How scary this book is likely varies on the individual reader's reaction to spiders.
       The Widows themselves were one of the best parts of the book, as well as one of the biggest disappointments. Their development inside humans is ten shades of grotesque. Pinborough creates a unique monster species with interesting abilities such as a a collective conscious and a venomous bite that produces horrific effects on it's recipient. Then we have a weak reason for their development, genetically modified foods have somehow lead to the evolution of humans growing the Widows inside their bodies. Not believable. Their weakness is also groan worthy; Somehow deafness creates an element in the blood that is toxic to these creatures. I'm not buying that one either. Seems far-fetched and a desperate grab to give them them a weakness that is unrealistic. These creatures are way overpowered, which makes the main characters' survival unrealistic.
         The plot is in many ways typical of the end of the world type stories. Small band of survivors band together to create a safe haven against the swarm outside only to turn on each other as sanity and humanity within the group crumble. This is accompanied with stereotypical characters, such as the wise old man, the crazy trouble maker, and the scientist. Not only is the plot predictable, it has immense holes in it. Our man characters gets sick next to a river and is soaked in urine. Instead of taking a dip in the water to rinse off the smell, he decides to take the long trek back into the village to break into a store and get fresh clothes. A mini bus and another survivor conveniently show up after their cars are destroyed to take them to safety. Widows don't come out during the day, but happen to do just that to attack one of the cars. You get the point. 
         Our narrator, Matt Edge, is inconstant. He is devoted to and is hopelessly in love with his longtime girlfriend, Chloe, yet manages to sleep with the only other two of age women survivors in quick succession (quite a feat, I might add, since there is a decent size group of other men yet the women only go for him). At times he seems to take charge and at others so clueless as to not connect his second lover's strange behaviors to the first who incubated a Widow. Overall, he doesn't seem to be anyone in particular except male. By male, I mean that Pinborough wrote on his character sheet, he's an average guy and left it at that. However, it is apparent she was uncomfortable writing from a male perspective as much of his internal conflict revolved around wanted to sleep with women and then feeling apologetic for that desire then chalking it up to him being 'just a man.' I find this just as frustrating as when women are written as nothing more than 'just a girl.' 
         Gender and parenthood are a big part of this story.  The focus on gender is present from the very beginning as the Widows, at first, only develop from women. The women survivors ultimately are the cause of the group's self-destruction. I couldn't help feeling that Pinborough had a theme of the complicated dynamic between male and female leading to procreation that she was trying in impart in the book. The group ponders at several points how the all-female Widows will reproduce, which is answered as the men start growing their own black version of the creatures. The villainous troublemaker is revealed to have thrown his own daughter at a Widow to save himself and tosses out the only young girl of the group at the climax. Matt starts the story with a pregnant woman and ends it with one as well.  However, whatever point she hoped to make with these elements never fully develops. At some points I considered Pinborough was drawing attention to Matt's relationships to highlight how men and women need each other for our species to continue in the future. Or maybe Pinborough wished to use the repeated theme of children dying to symbolize how we as a society are failing the future generations for selfish reasons (like messing with the genes in our food and so on). None of this sticky strings of theme ever came together to create the web of meaning I was looking for. 
          I should add that there is a sequel to this book which leads me to wonder if many of the weak spots are explored and corrected in the next installment. Perhaps the clear explanation for the Widows development is revealed in Book 2 and maybe the themes and meanings for the work come together. Sadly, I was so disillusioned with this first book that I have no intention of reading the next one to find out. 
          Overall, this book felt like a work-in-progress that was published long before it was ready. Given more time and a few more drafts, I can imagine this becoming a story that would scare the pants off a reader with fleshed out characters and fixed plot holes. As it is, the book is a disappointingly poor execution of what could have been a unique monster story. My recommendation, skip this one. 
           

The Funeral

      I first encountered Matheson's work through The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery episodes fizzing through an old click knob black and white TV in the backroom of my Nana's house. As a child, each story was a goldmine. I wasn't allowed to watch horror movies, but these shows slipped under the radar as Nana found them campy and my parents weren't around. As soon as I started reading Matheson's short story, The Funeral, my nostalgia senses tingled. I remembered this Night Gallery segment fondly and the story it is based on I enjoyed even more.

      Matheson managed to poke a bit of fun at the pop culture monster while also making social commentary on the business of death in this piece. The premise of the story is simple and straightforward; a vampire client, Ludwig Asper, requests funeral services for himself from Morton Silkline. It is the way that Matheson presents his characters that makes the tale stick to the reader.

     Anper's funeral guest prove to be comical as they are stereotypical monster cliches. The hunchbacked Igor (written in as Ygor) speaks as one would expect from the Universal classic version of Frankenstein. A werewolf character in a hurry to hunt. A witch complete with feline familiar and pointy hat. The whole affair presided over by a Vampire from the Carpathian area (which isn't even a veiled nod to Dracula, it's a giant neon sign). As this was written in 1955, it makes sense that Matheson would want to have a bit of fun at the mega monster movies that have become cliched classics from the 1930's through the 1950's. No doubt these versions had become the established idea of the monster at the time and Matheson takes advantage of that popularity.

     The beauty of these characters is in the description, or rather lack thereof.  Matheson gives a skimp description of the monsters and utilizes dialogue and action to cement their personalities. There is enough detail for the reader to gather Jenny is a witch without Matheson having to go into detail of her costume or discuss ever wart on her face. This way the reader can fill in the monsters themselves, making the experience personal and keeping the plot moving along at a solid pace.

     The social commentary of the piece is centered on Silkline. He is portrayed as the typically greedy man making money from funerals. Through the whole ordeal even in the end when he is approached by a second monster client, he maintains his monetary motivation. Throughout the piece the word 'Tasty' is repeated several times in reference to the service. To me, that word pulled the story together. People often speak of 'Tasteful' events and this extends to funerals. When I hear someone say that the funeral had been tastefully done, I immediately think they mean that someone spent a great deal of money on it. Matheson twists this. The monsters feel the funeral is 'Tasty' as they are more motivated by a meal (likely human) than money or social status.

     Silkline is making a meal of funerals himself. He preys on the grieving, charging a great deal for a spectacle that has become tradition. This is reflected in the display of Asper's service. He spends an exorbitant amount for his friends to see him lying in a coffin and have them mourn his passing. The satire here is that this display doesn't alter anyone's situation. He is still dead (or rather undead) and his friends bicker around him, probably in a similar fashion as they normally do. Although Asper insists this is important and serious to him, it is overall money thrown at the wind. This is commentary on the modern business of death. A funeral can cost several thousands of dollars for a standard service and a ridiculous amount for an elaborate one. I couldn't help thinking Matheson was making a point at how silly it is to spend so much on a funeral. On the other hand, maybe I'm reading far too much into the story.

      Overall, I found The Funeral a fun read. Easy to digest with interesting characters in an unusual situation. Well work the few minutes it will take to read it.