It’s well over halfway through the year and claims about the best horror films of 2018 are gaining more legitimacy, so I feel on firm ground when I say that Michael Tully’s Irish horror film Don’t Leave Home will be in my top ten this year. It is directed and written by Tully, shot on location at beautiful Killadoon House in Celbridge, County Kildare, Ireland, and features stellar performances by its three leads—Anna Margaret Hollyman as Melanie Thomas, Lalor Roddy as Father Alistair Burke, and Helena Bereen as Shelly. Don’t Leave Home is eerie horror. It builds dread and has moments of jarring creepiness. It veers into non-narrativity at times, as resonant images fade and dissolve into each other. It is beautiful. It makes you think: I watched it and then had to watch it again, and I’m still not sure I understand it—not in a frustrating way but in a way that makes you realize there’s simply more to be understood. Don’t Leave Home will stay with me.
Sleepaway Camp and the Transgressive Possibilities of Queer Spectatorship
Guest PostAfter a quick Google search, I was astounded as to how many blogs denounce Sleepaway Camp (1983) as transphobic. I’ve always been conscious of the film’s inherent homophobia – two children touch each other after seeing their father and his partner in bed, suggesting homosexuality as a taught paedophilic behaviour – but I’m less certain of the film’s inherent transphobia. As a cisgender gay man, it’s questionable whether I can rightfully claim what is and isn’t transphobic, but watching Sleepaway Camp, something less regressive resonates within me.
I first recall watching Sleepaway Camp at 15 years old. Besides the ending, I hated it. The only thing that carried me through was Angela (Felissa Rose) who I felt desperately empathetic towards. A quiet, tortured soul, I wanted to like her. I certainly felt a proud grimace of hope whenever she opened her mouth to speak. Little did I know, I was Angela; she’s the bullied caricature of every queer kid. Read more
Clive Tonge is from Northern England and has devoted his life to working in the film industry. While he has directed a couple of shorts, including the horror film “Sunday Best” (2011), Mara is his first feature film. Written by Jonathan Frank, Mara follows a criminal psychologist, Dr. Kate Fuller (Olga Kurylenko), as she arrives at a troubling murder site. A man is dead and it seems clear to everyone that his wife (Helena) did it. But she insists that her husband had been experiencing increasingly troubled sleep and that the night he died a “demon” entered their bedroom, sat on her husband’s chest, and choked him to death. As Kate investigates, she is led to a string of apparent strangers who have all shared the same terrifying night paralysis. More and more of them start dying inexplicably in their sleep, and soon Kate is investigating a phenomenon in which she too has become a victim.
When released in 2007 Teeth seemed to be a very misunderstood film, most particularly by its distributors who marketed it as a sexed-up up body-horror/monster movie. This was summed up by the UK DVD which features on its reverse a coquettish picture of lead character Dawn (Jess Weixler) with various blood splatters around the text. It contrasts heavily with director Mitchell Lichtenstein’s preferred marketing image in which Dawn, dressed in a “Sex Changes Everything” T-shirt stares confused at the viewer. Released on DVD through the Dimension Extreme label (familiar to fans of Torture Porn), Teeth’s very nature as a horror-comedy, and specifically a satire on American sexual values, was obscured.
There remains debate as to whether deafness and hearing-impairments should be classified as disabilities. Many, including those within the deaf community and their allies, affirm that deafness is a culture rather than a disability. Still, others affirm that having a hearing impairment imposes disadvantages on an individual. We can think of many ways that being deaf brings challenges in common daily life activities- the ringing of a doorbell, the answering the telephone, the knock of a door. In horror media, deafness may mean missing the screams of loved ones, or not perceiving an audible threat, until the threat is close enough to sense by other means.
Horror characters rely on specific strengths to get through the terror they are experiencing and/ or to survive. In some examples of television and film, deaf characters utilize their hearing impairments as a gift to fend off the horrors while the hearing characters around them remain vulnerable. In these instances, we see a paradigm shift from one in which deaf persons suffer incapacities to one in which their deafness relates to a tenacity in the face of terror, even as they maintain their human vulnerability.