In an early classic of folk horror, the 1970 BBC Play for Today episode, “Robin Redbreast” (written by John Bowen and directed by James MacTaggart), a middle-class professional woman, Norah Palmer (Anna Cropper), whose long-time boyfriend just ended their relationship, moves rather reluctantly to a remote cottage she acquired during the break-up. After discovering that she has mice, Norah sets off to look for a man named Rob (Andrew Bradford), who lives in the woods and can apparently take care of her mouse problem for her. As Norah walks through the woods, the camera isolates her and also marks her enjoyment of the scenery. She is jolted from this enjoyment by the sight of a man who is virtually naked; indeed, she will call him ‘naked’ when she recounts her experience to her housekeeper, Mrs. Vigo (Freda Bamford), later. Norah stares and, when he sees her – when he looks back – she turns and hastens away, unnerved, back to her house.
By
Andrés Emil González
If any single monster or supernatural entity has a claim to shaping horror film and literature as we know it today, it is almost certainly the ghost –and with good reason. The figure of the ghost or spirit embodies (so to speak) some of horror’s fundamental traits, including liminality between states of being, glimpses of a world or truth beyond our own, and a sense of powers that act on human lives without our awareness or comprehension.
Perhaps because of its ability to evoke such a variety of ideas, fears and even hopes, however, spirits in modern horror cinema have tended to take wildly different forms, often within the same film or television series. Most are familiar to any fan of horror. Many times, ghosts are only represented by their effects on the visible world: a chair slides across a room, the planchette of a ouija board moves on its own, or a person is dragged off by their hair. Other times, ghosts are made visible to some combination of audience and characters, as memorably occurs several times across James Wan’s The Conjuring series, to name just one example. In this case, ghosts may be visible only to one character, or to all, or they appear only for the briefest of moments. And while of course, there are myriad distinctions to be drawn between demons, ghosts, poltergeists and other assorted spirits, for our purposes all of these beings tend to be represented within this shared set of parameters.
Jon Dear
I read with interest your recent guest post, “Finding a Lost Production by Nigel Kneale?” by Professor Philip Jenkins and felt compelled to respond. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity.
A little about myself: I’m a writer on archive British television and film and I’ve written and presented extensively on Nigel Kneale and his work. I’m also privileged to know Andy Murray (Nigel Kneale’s biographer), Toby Hadoke (the authority on Quatermass) and Andrew Screen (the authority on Beasts). We have all been consulted by Kneale’s family on various aspects of his career. We are not academics but neither are we amateurs; we are professional writers and researchers. I mention this not in any sense of boasting but simply to support my wish (and ability) to compose this response. I emphasise however that the following is written in my name only.
Born Bad?: Talking A Nightmare on Elm Street 1 & 3
Elizabeth Erwin/ PodcastIn today’s episode, “one, two, Freddy’s coming for you” in Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) and Chuck Russell’s A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987). In the original 1984 release, a group of teens attempt to outsmart Freddy Krueger, a supernatural killer who stalks them in their dreams. In the 1987 sequel, a band of institutionalized teens attempt to defeat Krueger and save the life of an innocent by intentionally entering Dreamland together to dire consequences. Aided by one of the most famous monsters in horror film canon, the films are considered essential viewing for fans of the slasher film, but is there more to this franchise than gore and Freddy’s razor sharp wit? We’re breaking it all down today with spoilers so stay tuned.
Recommended Reading
Christensen, Kyle. “The Final Girl versus Wes Craven’s” A Nightmare on Elm Street”: Proposing a Stronger Model of Feminism in Slasher Horror Cinema.” Studies in Popular Culture 34.1 (2011): 23-47.
Gill, Pat. “The monstrous years: Teens, slasher films, and the family.” Journal of Film and Video 54.4 (2002): 16-30.
Heba, Gary. “Everyday Nightmares: The Rhetoric of Social Horror in the Nightmare on Elm Street Series.” Journal of Popular Film and Television 23.3 (1995): 106-115.
Kendrick, James. “Razors in the Dreamscape: Revisiting” A Nightmare on Elm Street” and the Slasher Film.” Film Criticism 33.3 (2009): 17-33.
Nowell, Richard. Blood money: A history of the first teen slasher film cycle. Bloomsbury Publishing USA, 2010.
Podoshen, Jeffrey Steven. “Home is Where the Horror Is: Wes Craven’s Last House on the Left and A Nightmare on Elm Street.” Quarterly Review of Film and Video 35.7 (2018): 722-729.
Shimabukuro, Karra. “The Bogeyman of Your Nightmares: Freddy Krueger’s Folkloric Roots.” Studies in Popular Culture 36.2 (2014): 45-65.
by
James Rose
Even though it is the second part of a projected horror film trilogy, Ti West’s Pearl (2022), is more a sharply written and extremely well performed character study of the titular character than it is a genre film. Set in 1918, at the height of World War One and the Spanish Flu epidemic, the film chronicles the slow but steady emergence of psychopath Pearl (Mia Goth). Living with her German immigrant parents on an isolated farmstead in rural Texas, Pearl dreams of becoming a famous Hollywood Chorus Girl, a fantasy which will enable her to escape her strict, dominating mother, Ruth (Tandi Wright), and her responsibilities in both looking after her paralysed father (Matthew Sutherland) and managing the farm. Her sense of entrapment is compounded by her marriage to Howard (Alistair Sewell) who, despite coming from a wealthy family, desires nothing more than the honest life and work of a farmhand.