The doppelgänger or double has long been a part of the horror tradition (Check out this comprehensive survey by Aaron Sagers at Paranormal Pop Culture), but it’s garnering new interest with Jordan Peele’s Us hitting the theatres on March 22, 2019. Peele’s new “monsters” are “The Tethered,” and they are perfect doppelgängers of the central family of four, on vacation in Santa Cruz, California. So far, there’s not too much information about where these doubles come from or why, so it’s going to be interesting to see how much explanation Peele offers. As with most horror film monsters, less is usually more, so I’m hoping he’ll be restrained. Peele is on record as having said that he was inspired in part at least by the Twilight Zone episode “Mirror Image” (1960), which he watched as a child. But there’s another narrative from the mid 20th century in which a character confronts his exact double, one that is definitely worth watching: Basil Dearden’s The Man Who Haunted Himself, released in 1970 and based on Anthony Armstrong’s novel, The Strange Case of Mr. Pelham (1957), which was itself based on his short story, “The Case of Mr. Pelham,” published in Esquire on November 1, 1940. Armstrong’s story was also adapted in the Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode, “The Case of Mr. Pelham” (1955), directed by Hitchcock.
The Hole in the Ground: the Strangeness of What We Think We Know
Dawn KeetleyWritten and directed by Lee Cronin (along with co-writer Stephen Shields), Irish horror film, The Hole in the Ground is a wonderful slow-burn film that relies on the formidable talents of its lead actors—Seána Kerslake as Sarah O’Neill and James Quinn Markey as her son Chris—as well as the beauty of the enveloping landscape. Cinematographer Tom Comerford and director Cronin make the most of their locations in Kildare and Wicklow, Ireland—and the forest, surrounding the hole at the center of the narrative—is itself as good as a character. The Hole in the Ground is an incredible entry in what seems to be a veritable renaissance in Irish horror.
The story follows Sarah as she moves with her son far from the city to begin a new life—away from the boy’s father who, as Chris put it, made her sad. (We learn very little else about Sarah’s relationship with Chris’s father, other than a large cut she has on her forehead.) One night, Chris disappears, appearing mysteriously back in the house after Sarah has searched everywhere for him. After his return, Chris seems different, alien. Sarah goes from uncertainty to certainty—finally becoming convinced that he’s an imposter. “He’s not my son,” she repeats. The film keeps us in some doubt, for a while, about whether Sarah is just imagining her son’s strangeness; she’s prescribed pills, and both her taking and then not taking them are suggestively linked to what might be her delusions. It’s also possible that Chris only seems like an imposter to her because her feelings toward him have changed: tellingly, things go wrong after Chris gets angry at Sarah for taking him away from his father.
I’m co-organizing a conference on folk horror at Falmouth University September 5-6, 2019 (check out the call for papers), and so I thought I’d get a running bibliography going of the great stuff that’s been written about folk horror. You’ll find it below, and I’ll be regularly updating it. Please add things I’m missing in the comments or message me.
Some things are linked, but, for some, you may have to go traipsing through old, possibly haunted libraries. The lead image here is from “The Tractate Middoth” (2013), Mark Gatiss’s TV adaptation of the story by M. R. James, a man who knew all about haunted libraries.
Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror (2019) traces nothing short of a revolution. It begins with The Birth of a Nation (1915), which perfectly illustrates one of commentator Tananarive Due’s main points, “Black history is black horror.” It ends with the blowing open of restrictions on when and how African Americans become part of the horror tradition. From the most despicable of stereotypes in 1915, we’ve arrived at a moment when African American creators and actors can finally tell the horror stories they’ve long wanted to tell. This film—and where it ends—is thoroughly inspiring.
Directed by Xavier Burgin, Horror Noire is written and produced by Ashlee Blackwell, who runs the website, Graveyard Shift Sisters, and Danielle Burrows. It’s based on Robin R. Means Coleman’s 2011 book, Horror Noire: Blacks in American Horror Films from the 1890s to Present (Routledge)—and Professor Means Coleman is one of the three principal commentators who tell the story of African American horror. The other two commentators are Ashlee Blackwell herself and Tananarive Due, writer of horror and speculative fiction.
Calibre is a brilliant Scottish thriller released in 2018 and directed and written by Matt Palmer, who has previously made two short horror films, The Gas Man (2014) and Island (2007). The film features two late-twenty-something men, Vaughn (Jack Lowden) and Marcus (Martin McCann) who head from Edinburgh up into the Highlands to hunt, an activity Vaughn is less than enthusiastic about. They arrive at the Highland village of Culcarran (filmed on location in Leadhills and Beatock in South Lanarkshire) and head straight out for a raucous night at the local pub, replete with enticing local girls. Vaughn, who has a pregnant fiancée, resists temptation and only talks with Iona (Kate Bracken), but Marcus does rather more with the clearly dangerous Kara (Kitty Lovett). Despite hangovers, both men head off the next morning to hunt deer, as planned, but they’re involved in a terrible accident and almost immediately lose control of the spiraling, out-of-control consequences.