Moved: The 100 Greatest Contemporary Horror Films (I've Ever Seen)

[Avaitor]

oh sweet, Tales From the Hood is on Netflix. I love TFTC, so I'll be sure to check that out, among a lot of other films listed here.

[No-Personality]

#54. May (2002, directed by Lucky McKee)

One thing a lot of people don't like to think about, because they're convinced in this age of instant communication (which only guarantees the illusion of connection to the human race because you see faces all around you, whether you know them or not, constantly) that the worst thing of all is loneliness, is just how much people really suck. I'm not talking about the troll in the YouTube comments section, the person everyone unites in ignoring- because they know this person is wrong and they don't care. I'm not talking about the bully picking on the chubby kid sitting in the back of the class, both being people everyone unite in ignoring- because they don't want to get involved and they don't care. May, on the surface, is about a lonely and strange girl who can't seem to keep a friend because they grow to fear her weirdness. It takes no effort to get deeper than that, you don't even have to dig. A lot of people missed this (because, as a I said before, people suck; no, I mean it- even horror fans as dedicated as I am can turn down movie messages if they are criticizing them as viewers in any way) but what the film is really about is how people befriend May because they want her weirdness to make them feel something they only want to feel for a short period of time. Then, they want to discard her. Although, we see in the film's real twist- they don't quite know how to. May, being the small and quiet girl she is, is not your typical Fatal Attraction stalker. But she declares, silently, that she's not going to be ignored. This is the Horror Movie Consequence of any character acting out of instinct, be this something they were taught through family or through society. But, after the bloodbath is over, the killer looks into the mirror and realizes that this didn't fill the hole inside her. This film feels like the death of the 90's, and as such- the "use and forget" motto these characters hold dear could be a leftover from how the director (also the writer) felt about the previous decade or a prediction for what he felt was in store for America in the coming, still forming, decade. Turns out Marilyn Manson was more than 6 years ahead of his time, because while the 90's was full of apathy toward world problems and just rotting humanity in general- the Aughts truly was the decade where everyone put a smile on their face regardless of the fact that there was nothing to smile about. Watching this movie today is bound to be an interesting experience. You might not recognize these people in today's world because the way they speak was outdated by this time, but their behaviors are universal. Coming from someone who continues to care about the people from my late 90's to early Aughts years, we don't admit it but being in anyone's life is to use them. No matter how much you think you're giving rather than taking. Almost no one will recognize this. Because we think this kind of using is normal (because we're not like the jerks in these movies). But it all comes down to awareness. May might as well have X-ray eyes, because she can see everything we don't.

#53. Fright Night (1985, directed by Tom Holland)

For what might be one of the most ironic reasons ever, Fright Night is among the funniest horror films ever made. It spends an exorbitant amount of energy and plays every trick in the book trying to make you afraid. Yet... there's actually nothing here to be afraid of. It was inevitable, wasn't it? That in a decade of such flash and excess (you get the feeling I'm really harping on something here?) that filmmakers would run out of things to be afraid of and start making things up. Not that people aren't deep down afraid of vampires or what they represent (which isn't always the same in every vampire movie). In fact, for some time- none of the characters "in peril" actually know the film's ladykiller is a vampire at all. Before I go any further, I should probably make it clear that this film is something of a retro meditation on cliches in the "old dark house" era of horror. When vampires lived in castles, sought out pretty young virgins to make their brides and wear sexy white dresses, yadda yadda. So, a certain amount of the movie is supposed to be charmingly lame and old fashioned. Which explains Amanda Bearse's acting (and, really, she did the exact same thing in Married... with Children). But, not why this movie expects to be able to use the classic "why doesn't anyone believe me?!" of A Nightmare on Elm Street without remembering what made it work- that Nancy didn't run around telling any cop in earshot that a supernatural killer was after her and her friends (she only told people she trusted). By (perhaps) another coincidence, Fright Night and Elm Street have something else in common- they were both 2 of the best horror posters of the 80's, one named after a street and the other - the one which came the year after - featuring a street prominently in its' artwork. To me, that's like the advertising (with nothing more than a terrifying image) saying "this monster doesn't have to wait 'til you're asleep to come after you." But... is that what this movie's about? Not even close. What it's about is... are you ready?: Being a man, taking a stand, and the merits of getting into trouble if you can believe it's for a good cause. The only refreshing thing about that pile (of silliness) is that this goes in a distinctly opposite direction than Corey Haim's half of The Lost Boys, that this is not played for adventure. No one-liners as the frightened characters run for their lives. Of course, that doesn't mean the movie is any more dire as it preaches (without any detectable appreciation for how backward it is) the dangers of living in suburbia because parents are so casually burned out from working all day (this stands in stark contrast from Elm Street's - and R.L. Stine's Fear Street book series, come to think of it - vision of suburban parents as well-to-do golf-playing bores (which also fits with sitcoms like Full House and Saved by the Bell).

Or how white people just can't get a fair shake from the police (for context on that, just listen to Public Enemy's "911 is a Joke"). Or how only the young people can see what's really going on behind closed doors (give the movie points for trying to make main character Charlie a moral hero who calls the police after seeing his smarmy new neighbor - an outsider - kill a prostitute). Or, and I hardly have the time to even scratch the surface here, the movie's chosen symbol with which it communicates all its' terror: sexuality. I doubt it takes a gay man to look at Chris Sarandon and say: "I'm not scared of you." Not only is he not actually scary but the movie just has nothing to say about sex, gender, or relationships anyway. It may even be trapped in a limbo where some viewers could mistake the movie's attempts at casting their brooding cassanova as such a boy-stalking teen hunter to be some shade of homophobic. I've seen people make this assumption, though. Which is why it's fun to point out three of five major characters are played by real gay actors (Bearse, Roddy McDowall, and Stephen Geoffreys). Again, I know it's sorta old-fashioned but- some movies take their retro framework as a springboard into updating their content, making it more mature or believable by the standards of the time of the update. Fright Night doesn't try to do this by drawing comparisons between vampiric seduction and any kind of serious sexual threat. But for the purposes of disposable entertainment, the film is quite the stylistic stunner. Great cinematography. Colorful 80's dance clubs and fast food joints (though if you loved that about this movie, the widescreen version of Earth Girls Are Easy will blow your mind out the back of your head). The special effects show some age but the big monster-mashing climax throws a ton of ghoulishly fun and gross-tastic stuff at you. And the film's unforgettable soundtrack. I'm referring, of course, to the songs. Each of which has its' own little cult following (the soundtrack on CD/cassette is extremely hard to find, last I was told)- "Fright Night" (by J. Geils Band), "Give It Up" (Evelyn Champagne King), and "Come to Me" (Brad Fiedel). Finally, it does accomplish something as a movie about old horror movies. Which is, and Ghoulies II (which I mentioned yesterday) also has the same point (though that movie's about haunted house attractions at amusement parks), that it's sad kids were starting to grow out of classic horror in favor of slasher flicks / anything trendy. I'm betting this is something the remake left far behind. And it's interesting, especially when you consider the fact that anyone can have a cynical attitude toward classic horror (namely Stephen King, who has gone on record as saying he's never had any interest in The Wolf Man and isn't the world's biggest fan of Dracula). "Thriller" is scarier and more exciting but Fright Night is at least fun.

#52. Psycho II (1983, directed by Richard Franklin)

Like I've said before, the 80's was quite a time. Somewhere in the middle of 3 towering slasher franchises being raised like competing fast food joints slinging commerical campaign gimmicks (via- film promotion, usually of children's fare), yet another flag was staked in the ground with a character who was never meant to come back for a sequel (but the blame falls less on Universal than it does on the original writer- Robert Bloch). And yet, quickly got his own franchise. The thing that really makes this one interesting is that almost all of them were rooted in drama and mystery. So, a sequel would promise a healthy bodycount but the real reason to show up was to see what was about to happen to Norman. Who is, in all 3 sequels, a sympathetic character. He merely has the misfortune of attracting people who want to drive him to kill again. Although, because of the Hitchcock film, the creators decided to format the film in the whodunit structure. And, for all the reasons you might expect- this film (and the demands that come with ensuring a follow-up to what is considered one of the greatest horror films ever made is no slouch itself) is simply the best slasher film of its' time (pre-supernatural elements of Nightmare on Elm Street). Classing up the genre requirements with a legit Hollywood budget and a first rate cast. And... that's really all you need to know. I recommend checking out all three of the sequels because I remain a fan of even the quite weak fourth film (casting turns out to be that film's strongest suit, so at least you can continue relying on that strength carrying over from this sequel). The third film is in a way controversial- some people believe it's genuinely horrible. It's an interesting sequel. Even if it contains what is probably the weakest batch of performances, it's an incredibly gorgeous, Argento-inspired vehicle for Anthony Perkins in the director's seat.

[Avaitor]

Pstcho II, huh? Interesting choice, especially considering that you're not big on the first one, so I'm not sure how it'll rank on here.

[No-Personality]

I explained in the UD thread that there's a cut-off year: there are no films on this list made before 1968 and there are no black and white films either. I'm just not enough of an expert on classic horror. So, that's why I specified this is Contemporary Horror.

[Avaitor]

Ohhhh, see, I missed that. That makes sense.

[No-Personality]

^


#51. Black Christmas (1974, directed by Bob Clark)

When it comes to the (mini) debate on what film really fathered the modern slasher formula as we know it... I have no opinion. Halloween made it famous and inspired all the outright rip-offs, that much we can all agree on. Psycho gets the most credit, and, hollerwooyays- I actually have an opinion on that: it's Hitchcock. Imagine Hitchcock directing something like Friday the 13th (in a parallel universe where that film was classy). Psycho is the clearest example of a thriller you will ever find, Hitch just borrowed horror elements for a few scenes (because, of course, the slasher subgenre still didn't exist- it was in an experimental phase). But, I admit, it had the heavy suggestion of nudity. This is something Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Black Christmas are missing. Which makes that 30% of Bava's Bay of Blood / Twitch of the Death Nerve that split from the story and just showed horny teens drinking, dancing, and screwing getting gorily offed by Unidentified Madman the true father/godfather of the modern slasher. Formula. In tone, in style. But I think the reason we have films fans use to compete for the honor of what came first is flattering. And each of these films has something the others do not. What Bay, for example, was sorely missing- this film has in spades (though they make an ideal double-feature; and if you've seen one and not the other- you'll know why once you catch up). Black Christmas is really the first full-length slasher film, and sets all of the cliches (again, shy of nudity) of the formula in motion. Though it would seem to be a commentary on the season or the spirit-of (which could be considered brave since every now and then, someone bitches about having a horror film set on Christmas- like it's holy or something), it focuses on the universal cinematic theme of being alone in number(s) or splitting from the group. After framing its' story on a bunch of young women who have strong personalities, decisive minds, and more often than not- loaded mouths. Margot Kidder's character alone is a one-woman argument for death in horror being dealt as judgment of morality (or lack). And though I've complained about confusing irony in the past (the inherent irony here is in how liberal the directors of these films usually turn out to be, as well as how much the audiences plain like pottymouths with the sexual swagger to back it up), this conundrum doesn't deeply puzzle me. Like the Christmas theme of this movie, it's just decoration. Meanwhile, hat's off to this highly influential classic. (By the way, I do have to register one official complaint: the sexual humor - aka: Nash, the film's official laughing stock - couldn't be more lame and childish.)

#50. The Hills Have Eyes (1977, directed by Wes Craven)

Horror over the last decade has really been redefined as a genre of brutality. And, as such, this film's reputation (and subsequent excuse of the assholes who remade it) has rode far too heavily upon that fact. Does Hills unceremoniously cut to a family of anyone's from anywhere, America, and show the audience their dehumanizing torment at the hands of cannibalistic psychos? No. Rather, it's a more direct dissemination of the latter half of The Last House on the Left. Examining brutality delivered unto a group of people and how they are forced by circumstance to react to it. And, yet... this still isn't why the film is so important. If it's scrutinized from a certain distance, it will only look like a (surprisingly less brutal) copycat of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Which wouldn't exist without Craven's 2-year senior (also featuring a chainsaw in its' climax). Craven again here takes a heated idea and communicates it through scenes of character behaviors. For example, the father is more than a little racist. The mother is more than a little dopey. And the children are, in no small measure, ill-equipped to fend for themselves. This couldn't be a less idealized/idolized portrayal of the American family. But, somehow Craven's Last House cynicism got to him and since then, almost none of his films have closed with utterly bleak endings. This one stops, mid-scene, in a most fascinating way: as though everything dies as soon as the last remaining cannibal's heart has been stopped (upon his death). Signified through the final shot tinting red and the eerie, rip-styled white credits rolling (over harsh red screen- which stays red until the disc resets). But in terms of character, in a take what you can get scenario, the baby (symbol of hope / future / survival?) lives and the children become strong adults. As the real victims of Last House, it makes sense that they're the survivors here. But the youngest also undergo some semblance of arcs. The girl goes from complaining bratty sister and screeching victim to hatchet-wielding killer and the boy goes from deeply afraid, and goofy, joker to displaying some actual leadership skills. In a film featuring a scene as notorious as the trailer attack (there's a trailer in the movie and you expect an attack to happen in a horror film, but this is still entirely different- the trailer attack scene remains hard to sit through to this day), I think it's possible to see these as positive transformations. Stylistically, the film is less artistic than Last House but, for having so much in common with a huge load of junky, anything-goes exploitation / drive-in fare of the time- I think it rises above nearly all of its' rough, dirty peers.

#49. The Fly (1986, directed by David Cronenberg)

A lot of horror and sci-fi movies misspend their energy and time on showing you actors caked in ridiculous makeup and layers of absurd, rubbery prosthetics and just expect to divide the audience into who is willing to find the humanity behind it and who would be too grossed out. Very much as though this was some kind of proof of human weakness, that the better people will relate to the ugliness of the crud they're wearing as though deep down, we all feel the world sees us like this. Well, of course- I call cheap manipulation on this most of the time. Especially the trendier it gets (TV's Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Lady Gaga's silly "Born This Way" music video). Cronenberg's brilliant remake of The Fly is a very important, very adult view on disease and infection at the time. Which invokes the 80's cultural denial of fear of premature death and disease which robs us of our humanity through the very 80's illusion of an athletically perfect average / able body. It's mostly adult for the fact that Geena Davis's character doesn't think before she embraces a terrified Jeff Goldblum, who in the moment is also horrifically physically disfigured and falling apart. But it's also more sophisticated than one would expect a rubber-monster movie to be (although, in this case "rubber" is a great deal of highly complicated appliances... which don't happen to look very advanced). Furthermore, it's also the most intelligent scientific-discovery film of the 80's. The examples of where in the movie you can see this are endless but, suffice it to say, Goldblum wouldn't be playing this part if he didn't have some of the most impressive monologues about the film's scientific subject matter you'll ever see. And if the film's concept (the idea of human purification through molecular reformation) weren't mind-blowing. Though it was quite hugely financially successful in its year, it really is the 80's movie only smart people aren't uneasy about remembering. And even then, it's a starkly sobering film for one that also doesn't shy away from flashy neon lit bars, clunky techno-pop radio filler, and cheesy fast food joints. The reason a lot of people want to forget this film is because it subconsciously evokes AIDS at its' peak of reality. How it tore through the body, the ignorance of others, the attitudes of revulsion people had toward it, and the indifference some people had toward sex itself until the 90's when people decided it was passe to ignore this problem. If nothing else, the film stands as an example of where the risk of infection (for all sex-born diseases) really lied- getting drunk and not taking the proper precautions.

#48. The Howling (1981, directed by Joe Dante)

Of all the horror films I've seen, very few have been as hard for me to figure out as Joe Dante's The Howling. But, I'm not sure every great horror film begs to be subtextually investigated. As my love for Friday the 13th has hopefully proven, I believe there's a place for films that just have a handle on a real feeling. Something horror needs that it hasn't had for a very, very long time. What made these films epic in the old, admittedly cheesy, days of VHS. Back when we rarely analyzed films but let them have a certain power over us. If it hadn't been for DVD's mere existence being a thing back when I first saw this (on VHS), something tells me this rental / borrow would have rocked my world. But that was when I first saw this, and people were starting to get bored by low budget films back then. However, junkying out on films like this- because they had a reputation (rather than any film with an eye-catching video box, usually the slasher rip-offs), is to me exactly what made horror this epic thing I craved and loved to have in me like a spirit (which just watching the Roseanne Halloween specials, you know is something real). I'd like to think the films got their reputation because people find an attractive eeriness to the wonderland of cheese that really comes from good movies made by talented directors which don't concern themselves with being especially grave and stark in tone. The difference being a matter of style and the fact that directors apparently didn't aspire to test their budgetary restraints by expecting the audiences to take it too seriously. As a result, the entire genre (especially in the late 70's and early 80's) took on a feeling of mystery and fantasy even if they weren't overtly supernatural for the first 45 minutes to an hour (suggesting the times were every bit as heady as a prime 60's acid trip). This is why The Howling now means a lot to me. Other than the fact that it proves budget has nothing to do with actual filmmaking skill / technique. The cinematography proves this, as does the tight editing and expert pacing. In addition to these sharp qualities, Carrie's composer Pino Donaggion turns in another masterpiece score (his creepiest ever) and the actors kind of show Squirm how to assemble and direct a professional cast of quirky hicks. As for what it all means, let it never be said I don't have my theories. It begins and ends with television. The film shows news cameras as invasive and misery-mongering and some reporters as trivializing the severity of their stories. Along the way, it packs in a lot of references to self-help fads. Eventually, it boils all the animalistic aggression of its' commune of werewolves to the wild instinct inside all of us which can't be tamed. But, hey- a message means very little in horror if the film doesn't have a little style.

[talonmalon333]

Black Christmas has to have what's easily one of the best slasher villains ever.

I've never actually seen The Howling. At least, I don't think I have. The only part I'm familiar with is the werewolf transformation, which is very well done. Only problem is that, like any wolf transformation, it doesn't come close to the one in An American Werewolf in London.

[Dr. Ensatsu-ken]

I'm glad to see that The Fly remake made the list. Its definitely one of the best sci-fi/horror movies to come out of the 90's, though I do consider it far more a sci-fi movie than a horror film. Its also one of the few films in which I can actually tolerate Jeff Golblum, if only because he doesn't come off as having that obnoxious character-type that he seemed to go with in most of his later films from the 90's and such.

[Avaitor]

The Fly! Great choice.

[No-Personality]

#47. Poltergeist (1982, directed by Tobe Hooper)

I don't know if anyone's actually seen this movie recently but... holy hell, is it schlocky! Can anyone even bother to tell me what the point of the next door neighbor was- at all? 1. The jerk literally stands in his back yard, using his remote to change the channel on the other guy's TV. Just to be a pest. 2. When the Main-Character Family go next door to ask him a question, we're introduced to his son and you can tell the movie's doing some kind of: father is fat and useless, so will be the son. I point this out, especially, because = 3. When the mother finally gets the attention of the neighbor and screams for help, him and his useless wife just stand there - in her freaking yard - while she continues screaming for help. Just to look at her bug-zapper windows in frozen awe-face. Poltergeist is packed to the rafters with moments like these. Moments which are legitimate howlers. But... aren't they also awful? I'm at a loss. I don't know what to think. My mind has jumped ship on this one. The film is, far as I can tell, something of a pre-Gremlins postcard picture of the American suburbs as an unlivable toilet bowl... well before anything horrific even happens! Children laugh their asses off at a grown man on a kids' bike suffering a groin injury after they try to ram him off the road with their toy cars. (I should never be able to form a sentence with the words "children laughing" and "groin injury" in describing a movie- something has clearly gone wrong here.) The Main-Character Family kids aren't nearly as fucked up, but the parents... OOOH. The. Parents...! It's not the idea of flushing a dead baby bird that disturbs me... it's the visual. And JoBeth Williams' reaction to it (priceless to some, no doubt). Both the initial death and the baby sister's shock at where her mother's thought process lead her without child consultation. Next... the pot smoking. Cheech and Chong? No complaints. That 70's Show? Fine by me. Dazed & Confused? I'm sensing a pattern here... But, a horror film made specifically so that the entire family can watch together? I'm sorry but I object. This is just not the time for propaganda trying to make Parents Look Cool. Or the kids, frankly. But if an undead, demonic Tweety feels the need to spark one up- I'm all for it. And, yet, Craig T. Nelson... perfectly strapping with clothes on. Clothes not-so-on? What kid on Earth wants to see that? I can actually remember my own horror as a child seeing that scene (Coach, my therapist would like to have a word with you.) And don't even get me started on the movie's religious side (the less said, the less scarred). The film is pretty much just an unexpectedly bizarre film which retains its' shock value decades later because it's shocking in ways you might not have realized as a kid. It's one gigantic special-FX show where everyone made sure the FX were amazing. And the acting's not too shabby either. And Jerry Goldsmith's creepy lullaby music score (much more terrifying than the theme to Rosemary's Baby).

#46. American Psycho (2000, directed by Mary Harron)

Now, do you want to know what's really shocking? How often horror films about politics turn out to unintentionally be predicting the future. The Dead Zone's (now almost heavy-handed) portrayal of our ultimate nightmare president came to pass in 2000 with the "election" of George W. Bush as our 43rd Commander and Chief. And, BOY, did we suffer for it. Meanwhile, even more fortuitously, mere months prior- American Psycho predicted something a lot more insane. And, on the surface, it seems hard to be able to apply it to what eventually happened to America apart from Occupy Wall Street. Yet, I have theories. This movie is all about image. Of what controlling people need others below and above them to believe and the weaknesses they want people not to see. As well as how political apathy spreads throughout all branches of power. In some cases, they're outright given the power to do whatever they want to the rest of us. It's become well-known that in the new-millennium, the executive business class account for maybe 1% of the population of America. This movie is kind of about how their interests come first. But focusing mainly on their lifestyles. Not just their competition with each other, but also how the rest of the population fall in-line with their mindset. The one they sell to us. With its' psycho, Patrick Bateman, baring so many similarities to Bush, we get a really good idea of how doors were opened for him so he could get ahead in business (and politics, you'll find these days the two are inseparable as a self-governing system). Then, there's his extreme impotence in failing to achieve any form of personal success, beyond what he stole from others (in this film, of course, Bateman begins taking over parts of Paul Allen's life). This ends up being the catalyst for almost all the horror and violence in the film. That coupled with the message he receives that he's worth nothing if he isn't made to look powerful by something he wears or uses as a front to hide his worthlessness. This is especially scary when you consider how much of Our Money is spent on our politicians' lifestyles - which goes right back into their deceptive image which they use for re-election. With their overwhelming job of lying every minute they're in the company of others or being recorded, this movie's theme of how their apathy really could (and does) directly correlate to the death of anyone is very much applicable to real life. Its' message is only funny for how unaware of how destructive (and self-destructive) these characters are. How no one in the film cares about or notices anything extreme because they're so intensely and amazingly preoccupied with themselves. And how far the movie ends up going to make the point that someone in the machine of the 80's had to lose their grip on reality completely. In the hopes that someone somewhere would notice what's really going on. Through the images of roomfuls of people just being there, we basically see the apathy of the entire political system of America. People don't want a hero running the country. Or anyone aware of their humanity. They want a businessman.

#45. Hellraiser (1987, directed by Clive Barker)

As I was sort of talking about before on The Howling, there is always a war between art and cheapness going on with low budget horror. The director rarely has any say over how things will turn out, which one takes over. There is an entirely different artform that allows an Evil Dead or Nightmare on Elm Street to ascend to the level of cinematic greatness. A splatter film wanting to be provocative and refined is at a disadvantage on a low budget (as well as being further compromised by the shackles of an R-rating in the late 80's), not to mention Barker was a first-time director here. Eventually, his ambition shines through and the impression you're likely to have walking away from Hellraiser is that it's quite an achievement. Being so nearly-manically episodic, it puts a lot on your plate. Though it can be hard to take seriously, despite its' reputation for having retained its' original dark, nasty, disturbing 80's edge. It hasn't. In fact, its' supremely-cheaply clad S&M freak gang (The Cenobites) are almost reduced to cheek-pinchingly cute after so many years of stuff like Martyrs and Inside. But being the little-engine-that-could that it is, it was determined to at least make something game-changing out of its' matriarch of murder and mayhem- Julia. While (surprisingly butch; aka- tomboyish) Kirsty's story is nothing without Camerawork Enhancement (and sticking her in some extremely attractive settings), there's no denying it's a thrill to watch slinky Euro-bitch Clare Higgins dress up in yellow-and-black 80's chic decked out with thick plastic black star earrings and cruise outdoor bars for desperate goobers while pretending to not-be looking so they'll willingly approach her. Without her being given half the film, it's no more than an origin story which the studio and producers used to set up an unbelievably shitty sequel. With her, things actually get quite interesting. Take her entrance into the film's dilapidated "haunted house" for example: her go-getter husband is excited no matter what dirty, festering thing they come across and she wants nothing to do with the place. They move in, get the first 2 floors cleaned up. Where is she? Hanging out in the attic. The dusty, rat-infested, corpse-strewn attic. She turns out to be the film's real gung-ho element, even managing to bring the campy beast out of Andrew Robinson's somewhat whipped, buttoned-down husband (though that might be because there's a demon wearing his skin). Upon rewatches, I've grown to find him infinitely sexier being repressed than skinny George Michael-esque Sean Chapman as wild drifter punk Frank. When was the last time you came across a supernatural slasher film where an adultress's love triangle opened the gates of hell?

[No-Personality]

Currently editing / re-structuring my old list.

Check back in a few months.   

[Avaitor]

The only one I'm honestly familiar with here, as of now, is Gremlins. I am familiar with the story of From Beyond, however.

Have you seen the original Lewton/Tourneur Cat People, though? I'm reading up on the studio's films, and it sounds really cool, but I'm not at all familiar with the remake.

[Commode]

Gremlins is considered a horror movie?

May I remind the your honor that he has never been in a Steven Spielberg film?
I was in Gremlins!
Ah, but not Gremlins 2.
Hey, you're right!  I'm gonna allow it.

[Avaitor]

What was the deal with Hook?

[Commode]

Dude, Batman and Robin was so gay!