Stephen King’s Pet Sematary (1989) revives the Gothic literature trope of the madwoman in the attic. This is not to say that it has not appeared in other facets of popular culture prior to his film but rather that Mr. King’s representation is arguably one of the most memorable. There is discussion of the madwoman character in feminist circles that view her as part of the binary representations of women in Gothic literature (as either putrid or pure). This article sidesteps this dialogue to suggest a more basic argument that horror film families repress difference through this same character. In the case of Pet Semetary, difference and/or imperfection is represented through a proverbial “black sheep” in the family. This member challenges the status of the family and must be locked up like a literal skeleton in the closet.
Unlike many horror fans, I was not too impressed with The Ring (2002). As the story of a possessed video that once watched curses the viewer to death by a demonic spirit, the film is more interested in conveying a sense of dread than it is in creating bloody spectacles. And while I’m not necessarily against that approach in horror, I just never found the essential horror being explored all that compelling. And so it was with very little expectation that I went into a viewing of Ringu (1998), the Japanese film that The Ring remade. What I discovered is that watching these two films as companion pieces instead of as individual films yields a much more interesting commentary on the connection between community and monstrosity.
We can always count on horror films to provide us with some of the most memorable images. In some cases it is through special effects, lighting, or make up that provokes us to see the otherwise elusive demons and ghosts. Other times, the unforgettable images simply come from the beautiful people playing the parts. Horror never fails to deliver uniquely alluring characters and what follows is my personal selection of tempting male characters. What makes them so appealing varies across a spectrum of danger, confidence, charm, and sometimes yup…it’s those tattoos.
R | 81min | 2015 | (USA) | Travis Cluff , Chris Lofing
Synopsis: Twenty years after a tragic accident during a high school play the students try to pay respects by resurrecting the play. This time Charlie returns to finish business and steal the show.
Review: This one leaves audiences swinging limp in the wind.
The pros: Although the film is written by two men, it comes across quite female centered.
I find the weapon of choice to be quite interesting. I am not typically a subscriber to psychoanalytic theory when it comes to horror films. However, it is quite rare for the killer to use a weapon that is not categorically phallic. In fact the noose is everything opposite of phallic. It is a receptacle that encompasses and takes control over that which enters it. This brings me to my next point.
Having watched two episodes of AMC’s intriguing new series, Humans (on Sunday nights at 9), I have been struck with how eerily similar it is to the 1975 horror-thriller, The Stepford Wives (Bryan Forbes). Humans is a British-American co-production, running for eight episodes, and based on the award-winning Swedish drama, Real Humans. It is, on the one hand, obviously sci-fi, yet it also partakes of horror, I argue, in that is fundamentally about the dread of an uncertain identity and the terrifyingly tenuous boundaries of the human. Who are we? Who are those around us? Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Don Siegel, 1956) famously took up these questions—and, more recently, so did The Cabin in the Woods (Drew Goddard, 2012). As Marty (Fran Kranz) says, “We are not who we are.” The larger question horror asks is: Are we ever?