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By Quin

As one of the newest contributors to Brutal As Hell (I started here in early September) I definitely don’t feel that I saw enough movies this year to come up with a list of films that deserve to be on a top 10 list. So, if you have a short attention span, have I got a list for you! I actually really love lists, so next year you can expect a much longer one from me, but for 2013 here are my Top 4.

4. The Jeffrey Dahmer Files – Directed by Chris James Thompson

I sometimes enjoy true crime documentaries, but rarely do they deviate from that Unsolved Mysteries made-for-TV tone. I had low expectations going into this, but was more than pleasantly surprised by what I saw. The film has a style that is reminiscent of an Errol Morris documentary – one that is also a bit similar to My Amityville Horror (a documentary from this year that I did not like at all). In this documentary, we get to see an interview with the lead detective who worked on the Jeffrey Dahmer case, who is fascinating to listen to. We also hear from the medical examiner and Dahmer’s next door neighbor. In the more than twenty years since Dahmer’s capture, this is the most information I have ever heard on the subject. I learned things I didn’t even know I wanted to know, the most poignant being the complex feelings described by the neighbour of wondering why she didn’t know something was wrong. The details of the crimes are gruesome and heartbreaking. The film also does re-enactments with Andrew Swant as Dahmer. The fact that this could have gone horribly wrong but doesn’t is another element that makes this a great documentary and one of the year’s best films.

3. Jug Face – Directed by Chad Crawford Kinkle – Starring Lauren Ashley Carter

This a weird, fun and quite original movie with top notch acting with campy undertones, a creepy atmosphere and excellent use of a low budget. I can’t think a film about religious horror that I’ve enjoyed more than this probably since The Wicker Man. For a more in depth assessment, you can read Keri’s review here.

2. Escape From Tomorrow – Directed by Randy Moore – Starring Roy Abramsohn and Elena Schuber

This quite easily made it to my number two spot this year. This is basically a nightmare filmed at the happiest place on earth. It’s a visually amazing and super fun trip through the Magic Kingdom. I am so happy this movie exists and even happier that they made it right – oh, and no one was squashed by Disney over this film. Yay! You can read everything I have to say about this wonderful film right here.

1. The Battery – Directed by Jeremy Gardner – Starring Jeremy Gardner and Adam Cronheim

Not only is this my favorite film of the year, it’s probably also going to be my favorite film of the decade. Jeez, I know the decade isn’t even half over yet, but that is just how much I love this film. The Battery blends three of my favorite things beautifully – zombies, indie rock and baseball. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’ve always been a zombie fan. I stuck it out through the years of awfulness, where everything was either a remake, found footage or a zombie movie. But The Battery breaths new life into the genre. The pace and cinematography may be too much for hardcore horror fans, but those of you who appreciate the art of cinema are sure to enjoy the smart script and gentle, visual poetry that looks like Terrence Malick directing an episode of The Walking Dead. This is truly beautiful undead art. (Keri’s review.)

By Ben Bussey

So – Tristan, Nia, Keri and Steph have all given their own accounts on the highs and lows of 2013, and I’ve been intrigued and in some ways very pleased to see that we haven’t just had the same films being listed over and over. I guess that’s partly because we didn’t all see the same films – I for one have missed quite a few that I hope to catch in the near future. But I guess it also reflects the diversity of taste within the BAH staff, and the mixed bag in general that 2013 has been.

Keri already mentioned quite astutely the way we tend to wind up in default disappointment mode when doing these end-of-year round-ups, and while I absolutely get where she’s coming from, I still can’t help feeling a little let down with the overall crop this year. This is mainly because I felt and still feel that 2012 was a really fantastic year, with a slew of great movies which I’m sure will stand the test of time. Still, there may be a few slow-burners among the 2013 releases, which – though they didn’t quite set the world ablaze this year – may well develop a reputation with time.

So, here’s my own personal rundown of the genre movies that I was most impressed with in 2013, in roughly preferential order…

10: Citadel

When I first sat through this at Abertoir 2012, I just had to tune out. The whole young man left alone holding the baby whilst surrounded by danger thing… as a father myself, it just hit too close to home. It was only when I gave it a second chance on its DVD release this year that I came to appreciate what an impressive piece of work it is. I can’t say I particularly enjoyed it, or that I’m in any rush to watch it again, but I have to give credit where it’s due: Citadel really unnerved me, and not too many movies manage that these days. (My review  – Tristan’s review. )

9: The Borderlands

Whaddya know – it’s another of the elusive few that has genuinely freaked me out of late, thanks to a wonderfully creepy conclusion that I most definitely won’t be spoiling.  The Borderlands also demonstrates how found footage can still work as long as it’s used intelligently, and the filmmakers don’t neglect to tell a fully-rounded story with fully-rounded characters, and make sure to hire decent actors to convey it all. (My review.)

 8: The Disco Exorcist

While I’ve yet to catch Discopath (one of Nia’s top ten), I had plenty of mirror ball- tinged fun with this jive-talking little movie, in fact made a couple of years ago, but only released on Region 2 DVD this year. Easily the best grindhouse/rewindhouse flick I’ve seen of late, not only because it apes a 70s aesthetic so brilliantly, but also because – again – it doesn’t neglect to tell a proper story, and to craft some genuinely creepy sequences despite the overall air of absurdity. And where it most deserves applause is how it unabashedly embraces the sexual elements which so many modern pseudo-grindhouse movies shy away from; it’s astonishingly close to soft porn, and I say that with love. (My review.)

7: I Didn’t Come Here To Die

This time last year, all I knew about this movie was that it had one of the worst hack-job DVD covers I’d ever seen. A few months on, that injustice stung even worse, once I saw the movie and found it to be a genuine pleasure.  A gory misadventure which also sat on the shelf a couple of years before hitting the streets, it’s a great example of microbudget filmmaking done right (some rather unconvincing day-for-night photography notwithstanding), and takes an agreeably unpredictable approach with material which might initially seem a bit obvious. If you think you’ve seen everything that can be done with a chainsaw, you need to check this one out. (My review.)

6: Motivational Growth

Of all the films I saw at Abertoir 2013, this is one I’m most eager to see again, as I get the impression it’s one of those cases where you see a different film every time. I’m still not sure if I really liked it as such, but I’m intrigued by it, and can honestly say I’ve never seen anything else quite like it; the way it blends diverse elements of body horror, slacker humour and psychological drama in a surreal, theatrical manner. (My review.)

5: Jug Face

Another one that gets a very high score on the uniqueness scale, not to mention big points for atmosphere and performances. We don’t get many movies which are based around such a bizarre core premise, but still credit the audience with enough intelligence to keep up. Jug Face is a fascinating, brilliantly performed piece, though it might not necessarily be anyone’s idea of a good time. (Keri’s review.)

4. You’re Next

Ah, but when it comes to having a good time at the movies, this one surely delivered above all else among widely released horror this year (though, yet again, it’s been on the shelf a couple of years). It is a shame You’re Next underperformed in cinemas, as it certainly had the potential to be a breakthrough hit with more mainstream audiences. It’s not too far removed from The Cabin in the Woods in the way it plays with genre conventions without alienating less genre-literate viewers, and it may well have launched a future scream queen and/or action heroine in Sharni Vinson, as something close to the bastard child of John Rambo and Nancy Thompson. (Dustin’s review.)

3: Byzantium

Another one that really got shafted in cinemas; I’m not sure it played anywhere for more than a week, which is a horrendous injustice given I’ve yet to hear a bad word said about it from anyone who’s seen it. A triumphant return to the supernatural for Neil Jordan, it’s a great showcase for every actor involved, and a really interesting new take on vampire lore, dwelling for once on a parent/child relationship rather than the more usual sexual dynamic. And, of course, it’s got Gemma Arterton in a corset, which can only ever make a film better. (Nia’s review.)

2: Curse of Chucky

No one is more surprised by this than me. Honestly, to date I could take or leave the Child’s Play movies; Bride of Chucky was the only one I ever really gave a damn about, and when I heard a back-to-basics sixth Chucky movie was on the way, I didn’t expect much. Goes to show you never can tell, as this may well be the best movie in the series thus far. Don Mancini has done his creation a great service with this semi-reboot, which makes Chucky well and truly menacing for the first time in ages. More than that, though, Curse of Chucky is a wonderfully atmospheric and tense movie in its own right, making brilliant use of its single location and stellar cast; Fiona Dourif is most definitely an actress to keep an eye on. (My review.)

1: Dead Sushi

Yes, really; my number one film of 2013 is also quite possibly the silliest. What can I say? Dead Sushi was, all things considered, the most satisfying new film experience I had all year. It’s so gloriously off-the-wall, yet so unexpectedly smart with it, brilliantly structured and truly witty. Surely Noboru Iguchi’s best work, it’s a world class comedy with wonderfully absurd gore gags, yet boasting genuinely great action scenes, and – yes – remarkably informative about sushi etiquette and appreciation at the same time. Really, how could any film in which Asami does the robot not be a masterpiece? (Tristan’s review.)

Bonus pick: taking it up to 11 with something that totally isn’t a horror film… Spring Breakers

I guess if Nia’s happy to name this her number one, I should feel no qualms about including it. Either way, I’m eager to reiterate how great Spring Breakers really is, as I don’t think it got half the love it deserved this year. Perhaps in years ahead, when the hype is forgotten, viewers will appreciate how remarkable, powerful and smart it is, and just how much it says about the world today. (My review.)

Guilty Pleasure: Hansel & Gretel Witch Hunters

No, it really isn’t very good. It’s dumb, with a pretty lazy script and in some instances very lazy acting (coughJeremyRennerahem). But so what? It’s fun in that Army of Darkness/Sleepy Hollow way, and even though it comes up deficient in many respects, it’s one of those ones that will be easy to revisit over the years because it’s simple, undemanding and good for a giggle. Also – further evidence that Gemma Arterton in a corset can only make a film better. (My review.)

Biggest Turd of 2013: I Spit On Your Grave 2

I was briefly tempted to say The Strange Colour of Your Body’s Tears here, just to wilfully stir up some shit with my BAH colleagues… but as much as I disliked that one, there’s really no horror film in 2013 that was so painfully misconceived on every level than that rape revenge sequel that absolutely no one asked for. I don’t know what they thought they were doing with this, but it’s just a nasty piece of work in all the wrong ways. Oh, and to the poster quote whores who declared it ‘the best horror sequel ever,’ I hope you realise no one will ever take you seriously again. (Tristan’s review.)

By Stephanie Scaife

Following on from Tristan, Nia and Keri, here’s Steph with her take on the highs and lows of 2013, kicking off with her personal top ten…

1. Only God Forgives
Bizarre, violent, unquestionably pretentious but that combined with it’s couldn’t-give-a-fuck attitude is precisely why I loved Only God Forgives so much. Nicolas Winding Refn has produced a singular vision that has proven to be incredibly divisive and you’re unlikely to see anything else like it. (My review.)

2. Cheap Thrills
This anarchic punk rock feature debut from E.L. Katz really needs to be seen to be believed. A vicious indictment of the lengths desperate people will go to and a vicious warning of the perils of one-upmanship, yet at the same time incredibly funny and jaw-droppingly audacious. (My review.)

3. The Battery
The Battery is a tiny indie picture with a budget of just $6000 written, directed, produced by and starring Jeremy Gardner and the fact that he has managed to create something so good is testament to the old adage, where there’s a will there’s a way. (Keri’s review.)

4. Antiviral
There are a lot of first time directors on my list this year, which is great. What is also great is that they are producing such brave and original work. Antiviral may have its flaws but it is a visually striking satire on celebrity culture and worship. Brandon Cronenberg and his star Caleb Landry Jones both prove themselves ones to watch and I expect great things from them both. (Keri’s review.)

5. Maniac
Shock horror! A remake that is not only good but is actually better than the original. Elijah Wood shakes off any remnants of Hobbiton as Frank, a serial killer with a penchant for scalping his victims. Shot entirely in Frank’s POV, this could easily have been a gimmick but it works to chilling effect, only heightened by the fantastic score. (Keri’s review – Ben’s review.)

6. The Desert
As with The Battery, this is a low budget indie where the event (in both cases a zombie apocalypse) is secondary to the human relationships at its heart. This is about what actually happens to the people in the aftermath, and it’s profound and oddly romantic at its heart. (My review.)

7. We Are What We Are
Unbelievably, I have not one but two remakes on my list this year! We Are What We Are is a very different beast to the original and both work, but for quite different reasons. I like the gender switch and the gothic Americana of this version, and although I wouldn’t describe it as “better” than the original, it has made the story feel new and created a new mythology around a central theme. (My review.)

8. The Borderlands
I really don’t get the whole found footage thing and I have been genuinely surprised this year, not just with the continued appeal of this sub-genre but with the fact that there have been a few good ones. The Borderlands was unexpected for a number of reasons: it’s genuinely funny, it’s well executed and has some genuinely creepy moments. (Ben’s review.)

9.Willow Creek
Gosh… another found footage. I’m really going to have to reconsider my position when it comes to this sub-genre. As with The Borderlands, this is a very funny film indeed; clearly improvised and using real locals and locations, it creates a really naturalistic feel. The main horror also centres around a shot that lasts a good fifteen minutes without a single cut, which is a feat that the actors and filmmakers manage to pull off to great effect. (My review.)

10. A Field in England
I am a huge fan of Ben Wheatley and this homage to British folk horror is a fascinating oddity that is visually stunning and oftentimes baffling. It’s the sort of film that you experience and although it may not be to all tastes it should be commended for its audacity. Wheatley regular Michael Smiley is suitably terrifying as the mysterious O’Neil.

Honourable Mentions: Filth, Byzantium, Warm Bodies, In Fear, The Bay, Safe Haven segment in V/H/S 2

Most Underrated: How I Live Now – Unexpectedly bleak and brutal coming-of-age post apocalypse from Kevin Macdonald.

Most Overrated: The Conjuring – Dull, lazy and not in the least bit scary.

Pleasant Surprise: Willow Creek – A found footage movie that doesn’t suck? Thanks to Bobcat Goldthwait such a thing is indeed possible.

Most Disappointing: Pacific Rim – Guillermo del Toro, giant robots, monsters… this has got to be amazing, right? Nope, I fell asleep.

Worst Film: Machete Kills – Lazy, offensive and Mel Gibson.

Most Unnecessary: I Spit on Your Grave 2

Best Soundtrack: Maniac OST by Rob

“Holy Shit” Moment of the Year: Dog eating scene in Cheap Thrills.

Best Performance: Kristin Scott Thomas as Crystal in Only God Forgives, especially for the line “How many cocks can you entertain with that cute little cum-dumpster of yours?”

Best Genre TV: The Returned tied with Utopia.

Most Anticipated of 2014: Horns, Under the Skin, Only Lovers Left Alive, The Sacrament, Godzilla, How to Catch a Monster, Nymphomaniac (three of these titles were on my list last year, lets hope they actually get released in 2014!)

By Nia Edwards-Behi

2013 seems, to me, to have been a bit of strange year for horror. While a lot of excellent films have been released, I’m hard pressed to think of any that got me supremely, uniquely excited. Then again – there are a great deal of films from this year, as always, that I’ve yet to see, and a great number of the popular festival films this year are ones I didn’t especially enjoy. There have been moments this year when I’ve really questioned whether or not my own taste in genre film is completely out of sync with the majority, but each time I’ve thought that, I’ve realised that that’s exactly what makes writing about films interesting. As always, my list is quite heavily comprised of films not yet on general release, due in part to my own festival involvement. Hopefully, they’re ones that will continue to play festivals and go on to get released more widely in 2014. Without further ado then, here follows my top ten horror/genre films of 2013 (arranged in a very flexible and not particularly strongly-felt order of preference).

1. Spring Breakers

Surprised? If I travelled back in time to January 1st, 2013, and told my past-self that Spring Breakers would be anywhere on my end-of-year list, never mind at the top, I would have laughed in my own face. But, here it is, a stylish nightmare of a film that addresses youth, class, femininity, crime and punishment, starring bikini-clad stars and rocking a banging soundtrack. I unashamedly loved Spring Breakers, and while it’s clearly not a horror film, nor explicitly a genre film, it’s definitely that strange sort of art film that seems to straddle genre and defy characterisation. Ben’s review from earlier this year sums up a lot of my feelings on the film.

2. The Strange Colour of Your Body’s Tears

If Amer was a film that divided opinion, then Strange Colour definitely out-does its predecessor. It out-does it in style and foggy narrative, too, which was something I enjoyed immensely. I’m a big fan of apparent style-over-substance (see also Spring Breakers, above, and Kiss of the Damned below), but I’m an even bigger fan of it when there is, actually, quite a bit of substance involved. Strange Colour is a film I’m very excited to watch over and over again, to delve deeper into its imagery, symbolism and utter sumptuousness.

3. Kiss of the Damned

Another film that has seemed to divide opinion is Xan Cassavetes’s Euro-sleaze inspired vampire drama. Again, the style of the film completely won me over, heavily-accented acting included. It’s a slick melodrama, its leads Josephine de la Baume and Roxane Mesquida shining as vampiric sisters with apparently very different outlooks on un-life. If not for the high production values, the film might easily be mistaken for a rediscovered cult gem. The film’s poster might also be my favourite of the year (along with Strange Colours), so it’s with great annoyance that I’m looking forward to owning the generically-covered DVD early next year.

4. Byzantium

Yet more sultry vampires appear in Neil Jordan’s return to the sub-genre. The film is dominated by Gemma Arterton’s supremely dangerous temptress Clara, as she attempts to shield her daughter Eleanor (Saoirse Ronan) from the harsh realities of their world. The film offers a sad portrayal of vampirism, and a refreshing narrative, which is ultimately about the relationship between mother and daughter. (Read my full review here.)

5. All Cheerleaders Die

A film I suspect will divide people when it’s seen more widely, Lucky McKee and Chris Sivertson’s latest film is a wicked and witty take on the mess that can be teenage relationships. Managing to be ridiculous, laugh-out-loud funny and yet incredibly dark, the film offers one hell of a ride – again, managing style and substance, if you’re willing to be receptive to both. The film might also feature the best opening sequence I’ve seen all year – one I’ll definitely be keeping unspoiled. (Read Tristan’s review.)

6. The Machine

It’s very exciting to feature a Welsh film on my end of year list. The Machine looks set for big things, having already won BAFTA Cymru and BIFA awards before it’s even been fully released. The film doesn’t exactly break new ground, but it doesn’t really need to, as it does what it does so well. Caity Lotz is incredibly impressive in her role the self-aware artificial intelligence taken from her maker to be utilised as a weapon. Given the film’s relatively low-budget, it looks stunning, and in many ways much better than bigger-budgeted sci-fi fare. Look out for a UK release early next year. (Ben’s review.)

7. The Man with the Iron Fists

For some reason this seemed to come and go with little fanfare and even less praise, yet when I saw it on DVD earlier in the year I couldn’t possibly have been more entertained. Yes, it’s a bit of a mess, but my god you can tell that director and co-writer RZA loves the films that inspire it. The Man with the Iron Fists offers a gloriously convoluted narrative vehicle for lashings of kung-fu action and wonderful performances (Russell Crowe’s never been better). Throw another ace soundtrack on top of all that, and here’s another film I could happily watch over and over again. (Ben’s review.)

8. The Station/Blood Glacier

Yes, this film is a lot like John Carpenter’s The Thing. However, it’s got a couple of aces up its sleeve that makes it stand out, though – a great sense of humour, and a badass middle-aged lady-politician who gets in on the action. The film is packed to the brim with likeable characters, which is always refreshing, and it’s inventive and pacy with its creature-feature elements. An absolute blast of a film, I’m looking forward to more people getting to enjoy it in 2014 (and just you wait for that ending).

9. Discopath

It’s a film about a guy who feels the impulse to kill when he hears disco music. I mean…what’s not to love? Quite a lot, according to some people, but damn their eyes, because Discopath is exactly what it should be – ridiculous, gory, and a heck of a lot of fun. Much like Kiss of the Damned and The Man with the Iron Fists, Discopath throws back to a different era with aplomb, and without any of that pretend scratchy film nonsense. And I still can’t get ‘I Was Made For Loving You’ out of my head.

10. Chastity Bites

I really hope that this film gets some wider attention, but I have a horrible feeling it’s going to be one of those utterly brilliant films that doesn’t get seen past some festivals and a limited DVD release (see: Travis Betz’s The Dead Inside from a couple of years back). Chastity Bites puts a very modern spin on the legend of Elizabeth Bathory, refiguring her as an abstinence teacher in an American high school. While other girls fall for her cover, and unwittingly become her perfect victims, it’s up to teen feminist blogger Leah to reveal the truth and save her friends and classmates. With a synopsis like that it’s probably clear that Chastity Bites isn’t for everyone, but it very definitely was for me. Charming and witty, the film holds up to repeat viewings and does wonderful things with genre conventions without ever coming across as smug, like so many of its peers.

Whittling a year’s worth of films to just ten is always difficult, and I must give special mention to the brilliant Pacific Rim on one end of the scale, Chanthaly on the other, as well as the excellently spooky The Last Will and Testament of Rosalind Leigh – and gosh, probably others I’ve foolishly and predictably forgotten about. Oh, and wondering why American Mary, released on DVD in January, isn’t on my list? Because it appeared at the very top of my list last year!

Of course, horror’s about the broader community as well as the films, and so here I also offer some personal highlights of the year, and, just to remind ourselves that everything’s not always brilliant, some, er, outstanding lowlights.

Personal highlights of the year:

– Bothering the Soskas in London and Sheffield when American Mary toured the UK in January
– Taking part in the Women in Horror calendar, raising money for charity alongside some far more well-known and talented people
– One Way Static’s Last House on the Left soundtrack re-release
– [smug] Co-organising yet another ace Abertoir [/smug]

Lowlights of the year:

– Joblo’s shameful comparison of ‘movie hotties’ Abigail Breslin (aged 17) and Chloe Grace Moretz (aged 16) to determine which of the two under-age actresses is more deserving of their sleazy attention
– The revelation of Lianne Spiderbaby’s plagarism
– Some of the more disgusting responses to Lianne Spiderbaby’s plagarism
– The trailer for I Spit on Your Grave 2’s DVD release being able to use ‘the best horror sequel ever!’ as a legitimate review quote.

And so onward to 2014. There’s possibly only one horror title that I’m really quite desperately looking forward to, and that’s one which many will have seen this year already – Only Lovers Left Alive. My hopes for Godzilla are high, and I hope that The Raid 2, Zombie TV and Gothic Lolita Battle Bear make it to the UK in 2014 too. What’s certain, though, is that, like every other year, there’ll be surprises in store and shocks a-plenty in 2014, so here’s to it!

By Kit Rathenar

There are certain things that have always, historically, been the province of teenagers in a way that they can never quite belong to any other section of society. Every generation thinks they invented sex, drugs and rock’n’roll; and in a sense they’re right, because these are rites of passage such that it doesn’t matter who’s done them before. When we’re doing them for the first time, at that moment they belong to us alone.

Horror movies – we all know it – fall into that category, too. We sneaked into eighteens under-age, we dared each other to watch things that we knew we were going to regret, and we’ve all got that one movie that we scared ourselves to death with at some impressionable age and still can’t watch without a shudder. It’s just the way it goes. But there’s one other great cultural icon that resides in this teenage territory, and that’s cars. Even in England learning to drive and getting your wheels is still something special, and in America the First Car has been elevated to the status of a cultural cornerstone. And thus, it makes a certain sense that cars – like sex, like drugs, like rock’n’roll – are a hand-in-glove fit for horror.

Unsurprisingly then, when Stephen King, acknowledged master of the all-American nightmare, wrote Christine he did a damn near perfect job of deconstructing the American teenage boy’s traditional love affair with his chosen wheels and remaking it into a thing of terror. His handiwork is fully acknowledged and honoured in John Carpenter’s 1983 adaptation, which has obviously made a very close study of the original story. Christine seems to have become something of a forgotten entry in Carpenter’s lengthy filmography – certainly compared to the likes of The Thing, which directly preceded it – but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad film. It’s arguably a little lightweight in its conception compared to many of his better known works, but as early-eighties genre horror goes, it remains a pleasure to watch.

Though I’m probably biased, I admit, because I love cars. And I suspect you have to love cars to fully appreciate this film. If you’ve ever had that one perfect marque and model that you wanted more than life, if you always zero in on the stray copy of What Car? in the dentist’s waiting room, you will have no problem buying the premise that a shy, geeky young man might find the love of his life rusting away in a back lot. You can probably imagine exactly how he feels. And indeed if anything, the biggest problem Christine faces is that because its audience will recognise the sentiments at play, it has to work quite hard to make its monster an authentic monster. What’s so bad about a car that looks out for you, can take care of itself while your back is turned, handles all its own repairs and maintenance, and is quite literally willing to do anything for you? In your heart of hearts, it’s hard not to think: well, nothing at all, really. This is probably why both the book and the movie share the same slightly forced quality – Christine, the red and white 1958 Plymouth Fury with a jet black heart, is a gasoline-drunk teenage boy’s dream machine, so it takes a lot of narrative effort to make her convincingly evil enough that you’d want to see her destroyed. And for me, despite those efforts that still never quite happens; I watch this film and I love it, but definitely not for the inevitable events of the last ten minutes. Rather I love it for the gorgeous classic American cars, the mingled rock’n’roll and spine-tingling eighties synths of the soundtrack, and the visual spectacles and thrills of genuine terror that it offers. The scene of Christine running down her tormentor Buddy Repperton on an empty back road, sliding through the darkness with her entire frame wreathed in fire, chills me to the bone every time.

Since this is a John Carpenter movie, though, the other thing I find fascinating about it is the characters, because the characterisation in Christine is very, very classic Carpenter. While King’s original cast are fairly well preserved and translated to the screen, on top of this framework Carpenter has definitely added a layer of his own tendency to exaggerate and idolise the unreconstructedly macho. The male cast here are archetypal, at times two-dimensional, but believable and vital; by comparison the women, even when they impact on the plot, are unrealised ciphers who never really rival the forcefully projected and often violently expressed emotions of their male counterparts. But the all-important exception to this is Christine herself; who manages to convey more character depth with only her radio and the look in her headlights to communicate through, than do the rest of the female cast put together. This is really only fitting, however, since she is, after all, in truth the leading lady of the film. One key regard in which Carpenter’s adaptation diverges from King’s original is that King’s Christine seems to have started out an ordinary car, and the evil in her is a heritage of her previous owner; Carpenter’s, however, hasn’t even rolled off the production line before she’s showing her true bloodthirsty colours. It’s a change I like, since it frees Christine to be both figuratively and literally an entirely self-driving element of the story. Without her actions, intentions and emotions, there simply wouldn’t be a plot to begin with – the rest of the cast act and react around her, but always with reference to her and in response to events that she alone sets in motion.

And this is why, despite the fact that it’s by no means the most profound or truly frightening of John Carpenter’s movies, I’d still say Christine is well worth seeing – as it’s a credit to any director’s talents if he can take a non-speaking, non-human main character and make them believable as a narrative prime mover, and here, Carpenter successfully does just that. Sure, the movie has dated, if only because it’s so strongly located in its signifier place and time (although the special effects hold up surprisingly well) and it does conform very strongly to the mould of eighties genre horror, but if you have any nostalgia at all for that particular cinematic era, Christine is an above-par example that you might well have missed. Likewise if you’re a Carpenter fan in general; this may not be one of his signature films, but if you like his style you’ll probably still find something to enjoy here.

Just don’t watch it right before you have to do any night driving, that’s all…

By Stephanie Scaife

In the words of John Carpenter, “Cronenberg is better than all the rest of us combined,” and arguably he may indeed be correct; but what is irrefutable is that Cronenberg is the founding father and grand master of body horror, with a singular vision that is quite unlike any other filmmaker. Starting out, perhaps unsurprisingly, as a student of biochemistry (with a particular enthusiasm for entomology), he became interested in film whilst at university and later founded the Toronto Film Co-op with Ivan Reitman, who would go on to serve as producer on his early films before moving to Hollywood and forging a career as a director himself. Cronenberg’s auspicious beginnings in science are apparent throughout his films, with their central themes of mad science and its relationship to and interference with the human body, which is more often than not manipulated into something monstrous.

From Shivers in 1975 to Dead Ringers in 1988, Cronenberg had perhaps one of the greatest runs of any director, making consistently impressive and significant films that would have a massive impact on the horror genre and which proved to be eerily prophetic. Seriously, this guy is like a slightly nerdy looking Canadian version of Leonardo Da Vinci with an obsession for Freudian imagery and the deterioration of the body. From the concept of “downloading” in Scanners to the idea that technology would become inseparable from real life (“Television is reality, and reality is less than television”) in Videodrome, he was way ahead of his time. During this period of Cronenberg’s career Videodrome sits in the middle, somewhere between his early schlockers and later more mature films, and although it would never quite garner the critical praise of The Dead Zone or The Fly, it is one of his most influential films as well as being one of my personal favourites along with The Brood.

For those not already in the know, James Woods stars as Max Renn (named after Cronenberg’s favourite motorcycle) who runs a small television network out of Toronto that specialises in cheap and salacious material. Always on the look out for a quick buck Max sees the potential in Videodrome, a show picked up by a pirate satellite dish that is essentially just torture and murder, set in a single room with no plot. Max starts a relationship with sadomasochistic radio host Nicki Brand (Debbie Harry) and embarks on a mission to uncover the source of Videodrome, gradually uncovering the conspiratorial layers of its intention and origin. Gradually he starts to experience violent hallucinations, losing touch with reality.

Cronenberg was a child when the television became a commonplace household item. At that time nobody knew the long term effects of exposure to such a device, and there was a definite sense of unease around new technology. This feeling was also exasperated by the fact that after Canadian broadcasting shut down in the evening, a young Cronenberg was able to pick up television signals for the US. In interviews he has said that at the time he felt unclear as to what he was seeing and where it was coming from, heightening this suspicion of the technology and giving him the inspiration needed to write Videodrome as an adult, also perhaps giving rise to Max’s increasingly hostile relationship with his own television in the film.

These childhood experiences combined with the furore surrounding the introduction of VHS and the lack of a regulatory system at the start of the 1980’s further informed the inspiration for Videodrome. Cronenberg wanted to explore if what the censors were claiming was indeed possible; that by viewing certain material it posed potential harm to the audience. In Videodrome, however morally ambiguous and opportunistic Max may be, he is still the voice of reason, and when asked, “But don’t you feel such shows contribute to a social climate of violence and sexual malaise? – and do you care?” he replies, “I care enough to give my viewers a harmless outlet for their fantasies and their frustrations. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a socially positive act.” What is interesting though, is that although much of the film could be an argument that watching violence does have a negative effect on the viewer, Cronenberg turns this on its head by revealing that in fact the signals can be transmitted through any television programme; it doesn’t have to be the sadomasochistic snuff films shown on Videodrome, meaning that just the act of watching television regardless of the content is potentially damaging. It is instead the plan of capitalist despot Barry Convex to purge the country of the viewers who would choose to watch such programmes. Much like Max, we as the audience begin to question exactly why we have an interest in watching something so horrific, and at one point Convex asks, “Why would anyone watch a scum show like Videodrome?” which may as well be a direct question to the audience as well as to Max.

Nicki Brand is a fascinating and somewhat contradictory character. On the one hand she is a no nonsense woman who embraces her sexuality, and although a masochist, she is clearly not a victim unless she chooses to be one. Max and Nicki’s burgeoning relationship becomes focussed on Videodrome, and although reluctant in the beginning Max soon starts to see the appeal of the violence and the destruction of the flesh and as a result of Nicki’s encouragement they push the boundaries of acceptable sexual behaviour. On the other hand however, there is something not quite human about her; she is mysterious and strangely monotonous and could very well be a projection of Max’s psyche. She disappears quickly after their initial meetings and subsequently only appears to Max in visions and through his television screen. She could be read as a precursor to the age of internet pornography that we currently inhabit, where sexual deviancies are readily available at the click of a mouse and are now changing the way in which we view and experience sex. Nicki is Max’s fantasy, someone to broaden his horizons and open new doors, much like the internet (for better and for worse) has done for the masses. We are no longer tuning into secret satellite frequencies to grasp a glimpse of something subversive, instead it is part of the mainstream and everyday life. The new flesh, as it were, is constantly on the surface and no longer a part of the underground, presenting new possibilities for pleasure and perception.

One of the most striking things about Videodrome is its troubled production and how little this noticeably affected the final outcome. There were constant re-writes and even after completing principal photography Cronenberg still had no clear idea of how the film would end, which resulted in having to go back to do pick-ups and essentially editing together an ending that made sense to him. In fact the first draft of the screenplay (originally titled Network of Blood) was considerably more outlandish than the finished product, supposedly including a scene involving Max, Nicki and Bianca all with invaginated stomach gashes having a sort of orgy whereby their hands transform into mutated sexual organs. Unfortunately for all of us, due to production running behind schedule and Cronenberg being unsure of whether he could successfully create the scene, it meant that it wasn’t to be. Also somewhat surprisingly it was this version of the screenplay that attracted all of the major talent including Woods, Harry and special effects maestro Rick Baker, but perhaps that’s just testament to Cronenberg and his unique vision as a writer and director.

Even 30 years on Videodrome has much to offer the viewer. It is an audacious piece of work even for Cronenberg, showcasing some truly spectacular visual effects along with some of his trademark obsessions and visual tics. At the time it was obviously satire, but it’s astonishing (and slightly terrifying) just how accurately he predicted our present relationship with technology. Surely it’s only a matter of time now, so in anticipation – long live the new flesh!

By Nia Edwards-Behi

A woman rents a lakeside cottage in order to retreat and spend the summer months writing her first novel. Her arrival attracts the attention of four local men, who proceed to stalk her, attack her, repeatedly rape her, then leave her for dead. The woman is not dead. She takes time to recover, before returning to exact precise and deadly revenge on the men who raped her. The simplicity with which I Spit on Your Grave can be retold in synopsis undersells the film somewhat. It’s as simplistic as it can possibly be, with minimal characterisation or deviation from the now well-worn three act structure. But, while I Spit on Your Grave is on the one hand rape-revenge by numbers, on the other it is so, so much more.

The film began life as Day of the Woman, writer/director Meir Zarchi’s creative response to a real life experience. Zarchi reportedly witnessed the aftermath of a woman’s rape, and attempted to help her. His alleged second-hand experience of the incompetence of police handling of reports of rape inspired his film depiction of the ultimate revenge. Seemingly made out of Zarchi’s own back pocket, and certainly initially distributed by Zarchi himself, Day of the Woman is understandably a hard sell. It’s hardly the slickest film (though not as badly made as many would make out), and it remains to this day an incredibly difficult film to watch. In the UK it was always known as I Spit on Your Grave, the gloriously exploitative title given to the film when it was re-released and distributed by the Jerry Gross Organisation in 1980. The film became one of the über video nasties, films which, according to certain British newspapers and politicians, if watched in the home could turn you – or your dog – into a vicious murderer or rapist. The UK isn’t the only place to have banned the film, of course, with several other countries deeming it unfit for public consumption, while others simply cut the film to shreds. It’s not difficult to see why, as the film still has the power to shock. In its current certified form in the UK I Spit on Your Grave is still cut by almost three minutes. The cut rape sequences are still deeply disturbing, though the bizarre ‘stretched scenes’ are quite jarring – slow motion and repetition of images with overlaid audio are used to mask some of the cuts. For all the well-documented controversy though, there is much more to this ‘vile bag of garbage’ (as per Roger Ebert) than its over-bearing reputation.

Though I won’t go so far as to merrily claim I Spit on Your Grave as some sort of feminist triumph – it’s not – it’s far from the badly-made, misogynistic, dangerous exploitation film that it’s often made out to be. It certainly is an exploitation film, simply by dint of its release history, as well as its shocking and confrontational content. However, I Spit on Your Grave successfully demonstrates the sheer idiocy of correlating film with simple effect. The rape sequences are certainly protracted, almost unnecessarily drawn-out, but at no point are they offered up as entertaining, or titillating. This is due in part to Zarchi’s actually brilliant (at times) direction, and due to Camille Keaton herself. Martin Barker’s excellent essay on the film wonderfully outlines the cleverness of many of Zarchi’s creative decisions. For example, Zarchi’s use of long shots in particular ensures that Jennifer is never objectified. She spends much of the film nude or partially-nude, but her nakedness is never filmed in anything closer than a mid-shot. We’re not allowed any closer, but at no point does Zarchi’s direction distance us from her, either. Barker also draws attention to the use of music in the film. The almost complete lack of musical soundtrack is highlighted part-way through the attack on Jennifer, as she stumbles through a wooded area. A non-diegetic harmonica begins to play for several seconds until it revealed to be entirely, painfully diegetic, as we discover that one of the gang of men is playing the instrument as they lie in wait to attack Jennifer again. Barker’s essay was written and published in 1984, providing one of the few voices to approach these films as films, rather than as social poison. For Barker to have critically analysed such a contentious film in this way in 1984, at the height of its controversy is testament to his courage and critical integrity at that time. Barker’s analysis of the film actually holds up when revisiting the film, though it’s true others have defended the film a little too rigorously at times – better than Halloween it ain’t, Marco Starr.

An under-played strength of the film is Camille Keaton as Jennifer. Her performance is often dismissed but for me Keaton is arguably the reason the film works. Her willowy, slight frame is thrown about with such abandon by the men that it’s difficult not to genuinely fear for her safety when watching the film. However, as skinny and as slight as she is, in the revenge sequences she is sinewy and resilient. Problematic though some of the sequences are, they do not turn her into a machine (as the remake does) – her revenge on each man is arguably pragmatic and swift. As much as I’ve already stated that film is not some sort of feminist triumph, its depiction of Jennifer in the first half the film is admirable for the fact that at no point does she stop trying to physically fight the men. The only point at which she seems to give up is during the third attack on her, and after one of the men has repeatedly kicked her stomach and ribs. That’s more than can be said for a great deal of films with similar sequences.

Now, for all the potential praise that can be heaped onto the film, if one is so inclined, it’s hard to believe it would still be of such interest to people 35 years on if not for its association with the video nasties. If there’s one positive outcome of the utter debacle of the nasties and the Daily Mail and government and everything in between, it’s the longevity of some of the films that might otherwise have been forgotten. I Spit on Your Grave, of course, has left a film legacy, outside of itself. Though the film has a ‘sequel’ in Savage Vengeance (or Vengance, to take the film’s own spelling of the word), it’s hardly an influential or noteworthy film like its predecessor, and hell, I assume that only a few hundred people have ever bothered to watch it. If you’re reading this as someone who thinks that I Spit on Your Grave is a shoddy, badly-acted mess, then Savage Vengeance might truly blow your mind. It’s notable, perhaps, that from the outset this ‘sequel’ (Meir Zarchi had nothing to do with it) makes itself out to be a horror film with some ‘creepy music,’ but just what the bloody hell it ends up being is beyond me.

Of course, there’s Steven R. Monroe’s 2010 remake, which I hated, but I know others did not. My main problem with it is much the same as my problem with the Last House on the Left remake, amongst others, and that is that snappy and effective scenes of violence become protracted and elaborate set-pieces, more often than not completely diminishing any power the original might have had. Then, of course, there’s I Spit on Your Grave 2, which I’m not sure I can adequately express my feelings for without attaching my laptop to a boomerang and aiming it directly at the heads of everyone involved and submitting whatever the open Word document ends up with. No, the most direct descendants of I Spit on Your Grave are not its proudest legacy. Instead, the film seems to stand atop a dubious subgenre or cycle of films that contains many an under-appreciated classic. The film remains an unflinching account of horrible violence resulting in further horrible violence. Though there’s a very little to feel happy about after watching I Spit on Your Grave, when Jennifer Hills smiles as those credits roll, it’s very difficult not to smile with her.