Even though Algernon Blackwood’s ‘The Willows’ is one of my favourite weird tales, possibly even my most favourite, I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve read little of his less-known work and hardly any of his non-fiction writings. This is doubly shameful as not only is there a huge amount of work beyond stories like ‘The Willows’ and ‘The Wendigo’ but also much of it is concerned with a love which I share with the writer: a deep love not only of enjoying nature (or Nature, as editor Henry Bartholomew reminds us of Blackwood’s love of capitalisation) but of becoming lost within it. I’ve never been to the Canada that Blackwood described as ‘the nearest approach to a dream come true I had yet known’, but I have explored the jungles of Borneo, trekked across Andean passes and skirted Himalayan foothills. As Blackwood would’ve known, these are all places where reality itself seems to become thin and one’s soul expands outwards to fill the void left behind. They are, in short, weird places.
Auto-fiction as Nightmare: A Review of Bret Easton Ellis’s The Shards
Guest PostSince bursting into the literary scene in 1985, author Bret Easton Ellis has remained a divisive and controversial figure in popular culture. His debut novel Less Than Zero (1985) was described by revered critic Michiko Kakutani in The New York Times as “one of the most disturbing novels I have read in long time” and, most famously, his magnum opus American Psycho caused such intense public outcry that it was temporarily withdrawn from publication and later banned in some countries. The reason for all the dispute and infamy surrounding Easton Ellis – which has only solidified his subsequent reputation as a literary enfant terrible – is primarily due to the graphic depictions of sexual violence which feature throughout his work. Women are brutally tortured and murdered in the most extreme and nauseating fashion in American Psycho – and Less Than Zero infamously ends with a twelve-year-old being drugged and viciously gang-raped by a group of coked-up rich kids. While the content of these scenes alone is enough to shock and offend the average reader, it is the cool and dissociative tone of Ellis’s narration that imbues these scenes with a lasting and disturbing significance, elevating the violence beyond the realm of snuff into something much more darkly existential. Indeed, at the core of Ellis’s success as a writer is his unique ability to evoke a haunting and all-pervading sense of dread and ennui, which he then uses as means to provoke, unsettle and, perhaps most importantly, horrify his readership. The Shards, Ellis’ latest novel after a thirteen-year absence, is a timely remainder of this. Read more
John Hyam’s SICK (2022) is a wildly divisive film that had us debating both its merits and its place within slasher film canon. Situated in the early days of the pandemic, the film follows friends Parker (Gideon Adlon) and Miri (Beth Million) as they quarantine at a remote lake house owned by Parker’s parents. They are joined unexpectedly by DJ (Dylan Sprayberry), Parker’s friend with benefits, who is eager to make their relationship exclusive. But their idyllic reprieve is soon interrupted when an unexpected threat starts stalking them.
On this episode, we debate the wisdom of setting a slasher within a real life collective trauma while also considering the importance of generational spectatorship in film reception. In the end, the only thing we agree on about this film is that Erasure’s “A Little Respect” still bangs. Listen to the full, spoiler-filled episode below!
Rewilding is a folk horror anthology written and directed by Ric Rawlins. It includes three short films, “Stone Mothers,” “The Family Tree,” and “The Writer’s Enquiry” that all harken back to the stories of M. R. James and to their adaptation in the 1970s’ BBC’s A Ghost Story for Christmas series. The influence of James is especially strong in the first two, with “Stone Mothers” evoking “Oh, Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad” and “A Warning to the Curious,” while “The Family Tree” recalls “The Ash Tree.” The third installment, “The Writer’s Enquiry,” which has a brilliant ending, most definitely manifests the influence of Robin Hardy’s 1973 The Wicker Man – and is also akin to the recent “Mr. King” episode of Inside No. 9 (2022).
Any film that was so aware of tracing the influences of the tradition from which it emerged would be of interest to me – but that is by no means the only reason I highly recommend Rewilding. It is essential viewing for anyone interested in folk horror – or in slow-burn, thoughtful horror more generally. Each of the three short films is extremely well-written and directed; the settings are gorgeous, beautifully shot, and, in true folk horror fashion, contribute demonstrably to the meaning of the film; and the actors are all great. Rawlins obviously assembled a dedicated group for this project, and their investment in what they’re doing is palpable.
J-horror is often used as shorthand for Japanese horror, but that “J” is a bit limiting. It’s also required for Jewish horror, a subgenre that’s coming into its own. In 2012 the Jewish possession movie titled, well, The Possession presented the world with a Hasidic exorcist. Directed by Ole Bornedal, the film had a substantial budget and wide theatrical release. Played by the famed Hasidic rapper Matisyahu, the sympathetic exorcist has to assist a goy family who bought their way into trouble at a yard sale. Em (Natasha Calis), a young girl from a broken family, asks her father to buy her an ornate box which, unbeknownst to them, contains a dybbuk. A dybbuk is essentially the ghost of a wicked person—a very powerful entity that, according to the movie, is capable of possession. It turns out that this is actually the demon Abyzou.
Six years later, the famous Jewish monster, the golem, made an appearance in the Israeli horror film, Doron and Yoav Paz’s The Golem. Set during a pogrom in seventeenth-century Lituania, it follows previous films that share both the monster and title. It does this in unique fashion, however, by making the golem a little boy in the shape of a grieving mother’s dead son. Hannah (Hani Furstenberg), the mother, creates the golem to protect the shtetl against hostile Christians. Golems do what golems do, and it saves the community but then turns violent on the Jews. Read more