Countless viewers this holiday season will be re-visiting Frank Capra’s classic 1946 film, It’s a Wonderful Life. I did so myself last night –and was particularly struck, this viewing, by the turn the film takes after George Bailey (James Stewart) drives to the bridge, determined to take his own life. This is, of course, where Clarence (Henry Travers), George’s guardian angel, appears and before long decides to show George what the life of Bedford Falls and its inhabitants would have been like without him. For a while, Capra’s Christmas classic turns into a horror film, and, in doing so, it illustrates the enduring meaning and importance of horror film in people’s lives.
Doomwatch (1972) is infrequently cited in the burgeoning scholarly and popular conversations on folk horror, and yet I would argue that it is in fact a key text.[i] Its hybrid generic form manifests both what is and what is not folk horror; it exemplifies folk horror, in other words, both positively and negatively. Indeed, the Doomwatch’s shift toward the end is a brilliant illustration of how the trajectory of the folk horror plot can be negated.
The 1972 Doomwatch (called Island of the Ghouls in the US, emphasizing its ‘horror’) was directed by Peter Sasdy, who also directed 1972’s The Stone Tape (written by Nigel Kneale), a staple of the folk horror canon. The screenplay was written by Clive Exton, and the film was produced by Tigon British Film Productions, the company behind such folk horror classics as Witchfinder General (1968) and The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971). Doomwatch is based on the BBC series of the same name, which ran between 1970 and 1972. Both film and TV series feature a government agency called the Department for the Observation and Measurement of Scientific Work, dedicated to tracking down unethical and dangerous scientific research.
Starve Acre & Andrew Michael Hurley’s Unparalleled Folk Horror Fiction
Dawn KeetleyAndrew Michael Hurley’s third novel, Starve Acre, is due out from John Murray on the highly appropriate date of October 31, 2019. Hurley is the author of two prior novels—the critically acclaimed The Loney (2014) and Devil’s Day (2017)—both of which fall loosely within the ‘folk horror’ subgenre. Fans of Hurley’s first two novels, and of folk horror in general, will be happy to hear that Starve Acre is positioned still more firmly within the folk horror tradition; it is a brilliant interweaving of psychological realism, folklore, and the haunting presence of the supernatural. I would put it in the company of some of M. R. James’s fiction, Daphne du Maurier’s ‘Don’t Look Now’ (1971, and Nicolas Roeg’s 1973 film), Piers Haggard’s The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971), and Ira Levin’s Rosemary’s Baby (as well as Roman Polanski’s 1968 adaptation).
In April 2019, New Line Cinema released James Wan’s production of The Curse of La Llorona, directed by Michael Chaves. It brought mainstream US attention to the important Mexican legend of “La Llorona,” or “the wailing woman.” In most versions, La Llorona is a banshee figure, often dressed in white, crying for her children whom she has killed after herself being betrayed by a lover. The figure has been connected to a broader history of colonialism in Mexico, as this excellent article by Dr. Amy Fuller explains. Numerous cinematic incarnations of the legend of La Llorona precede Chaves’s film, many made in Mexico. La Maldición de la Llorona, made in 1961 but released in Mexico in 1963 and in the US in 1969, and directed by Rafael Baledón, is a version worth watching despite its limitations. It should be stated up front that one of its principal limitations is that La Maldición is devoid of any taint of colonial critique; the film’s reference point is the Hollywood horror tradition more so than the historically- and politically rooted La Llorona of Mexican folklore.
Styx (2018) is a taut psychological drama from Austrian director Wolfgang Fischer that turns to horror near its end, offering something of a commentary on horror as it does so. Indeed, Styx is part of an emerging sub-genre of horror that I’m calling the ‘monstrous-migrant’, after Barbara Creed’s ‘monstrous-feminine’.
The film follows a German doctor, Rike (Susanne Wolff), who lives and works in Gibraltar. The first scenes of the film, which show her at work as a trauma physician, are almost entirely silent and dark and strongly suggest the deadening nature of her work. One morning, however, she packs her sailing boat the Asa Gray (named after US botanist and friend of Charles Darwin) with plentiful supplies and sets off to sail down the coast of Africa to Ascension Island in the South Atlantic Ocean.