John Skipp, along with his former partner Craig Spector (and a handful of other writers), revolutionized the horror fiction genre in the 1980's. He ushered in a new breed of horror: One that grew up on creature feature movies, rock and roll, and hip rebellion. It was an amazing time for the genre and I loved every second of it. Had you told me then that I would one day publish John Skipp, I'd have said you were high. And you probably would have been. It was, after all, the 80's.
I'm honored to have John here at Horror Drive-In.
The stiffest nipples in the history of zombie horror fiction jut defiantly from the pages of The Loving Dead, Amelia Beamer's eye-popping fornicopia of fiercely literate laughs, provocation, and mayhem.
It’s a brave, funny, frightening book for the young-at-heart NPR crowd – less a Jane Austen mashup than Chuck Palanhiuk meets George Romero – and very much the sort of thing David Sedaris might take on vacation, cackling madly, in order to avoid the beach.
The story centers around Kate and Michael, a pair of bright but rootless twenty-somethings who work at a Trader Joe’s in Berkeley, California. They were pretty morally flexible even before the outbreak happened. Just part of being young, and not always as wise as one might hope.
But when Kate’s toothsome yoga instructor gets accosted face-first by a shambling homeless person, a new kind of cootie starts to make the rounds within their social circle. Sexily at first – very sexily at first – but rapidly devolving into the kind of problematic behavior that puts everyone on undead red alert.
In postulating zombiedom as a sexually transmitted disease – with a slow burn of compulsive and irrational horniness that’s not easy to distinguish from the regular kind, until it’s too late – Beamer has deliciously tweaked the zombie mythos just when it needed it most: at the height of its ubiquitous popularity.
In the process, she has sliced through the great and horrible corpse-banging taboo with penetrating wit and astonishing verve, taking us intimately inside this weirdly emotional experience as no author before her. Horror writers, take note.
Because everyone in Beamer’s book is pop-culture savvy – and therefore somewhat zombie-savvy – there is none of the wearisome “AIM FOR THE BRAIN!” tutorial nonsense that hide-binds so much straight horror fiction to this day. They’ve all seen the movies, or at least know the jokes.
So when the nightmare actually descends, they’ve already spent way too much brain time cultivating their own zombie contingency plans. Idly speculating as to what they might do, should such particularly unlikely shit ever manage to hit the fan.
But hit the fan it does. And they very quickly discover that none of them are even close to action heroes. They are bumblers and stumblers, making it up as they go along, trying desperately to pretend it’s not really happening at all.
As the situation spreads from the party-personal to envelop all of San Francisco and beyond, The Loving Dead ups the ante like a sonofabitch. Try to take a nice zeppelin ride over the city, act like a tourist, maybe forget about your troubles, and a couple of gray-skinned iris-deprived lesbians might just gut-munch you into wishing you’d stayed back at the Holiday Inn.
Try to take a boat over to Alcatraz, and your worst nightmare has only begun.
THE LOVING DEAD is sharply, subversively funny for the bulk of its literary running time. Not just funny like Palanhiuk, but like Sedaris as well, coupling crisp verbal economy and stream-of-consciousness candor with a genuine desire to both provoke and entertain.
But because it’s a real horror novel as well as a true social satire, there are savage set-pieces galore, all building to a shattering climax. Yes, it's all fun and games till the emotional hammer comes down. You may walk in with a hard-on, but you won't come out unscathed.†
Let me state this very clearly: I fucking love this brilliant book. For those of us who care about the burgeoning New Zombie literature, and the powerful cultural metaphors it contains, The Loving Dead is a pivotal work.
And for those literati who sorely doubt that any good can come from dancing with the tropes of genre fiction, prepare to have your transcendence gland fondled by Amelia Beamer’s dangerously knowing hands.
I am currently not a fisherman, but I was one when I was a kid. Perhaps fisherboy is a better word for what I was. We lived in Baltimore, right next to a subsidiary of The Chesapeake Bay. I fished quite often, and while I liked it, fishing never took precedence over reading and watching monster movies.
Though I am no longer attracted to the rod and reel, I still adore the Crunch and Des fishing stories of Philip Wylie.
It's sad. Crunch and Des are forgotten now, except by bibliophiles like me. At one time these short stories were astonishingly popular. Nearly all of them were published in The Saturday Evening Post, and people everywhere took enormous delight in them.
I didn't get around to reading about ex-boxer Captain Crunch Adams and his hungry-for-a-catch First Mate, Desperate, until years after I began reading Philip Wylie. I first took a notion to sample his writing after I read an essay about Wylie by the great Theodore Sturgeon. I began with a 1951 science fiction novel called The Disappearance, which was a study of a world that awakened one morning with one sex completely gone. It was ingeniously told in alternating chapters in which men found themselves suddenly without women, and with women waking up in world without men. The Disappearance is a profoundly intelligent SF novel, especially when one considers the time it was published. The Disappearance is one of the first novels in the genre that dealt with homosexuality in any sort of mature manner.
I made a point to read more Philip Wylie. I went through the SF first. Tomorrow!, a harrowing novel about nuclear war and its aftermath, is probably the best of its kind ever published. I think it was just a tad too realistic for most people at the time.
Wylie didn't limit himself to science fiction, although he is probably best known today for his work in the field. When Worlds Collide was made into a film by producer George Pal. It, and its sequel, After Worlds Collide, were collaborations with Edwin Bulmer. As I understand it. Bulmer was Wylie's editor and he came up with the concept, while Philip Wylie did the actual writing. When Worlds Collide is being prepared to be remade, with Stephen Sommers directing. I already hate it.
Other novels by Philip Wylie were adapted into films: Night Unto Night, which starred Ronald Reagan, and was one of the earliest movies by famed director Don Siegel; and Gladiator, which is reputed to be one of the main inspirations for Superman. Sadly, the film was a weak vehicle for comedian Joe E. Brown, rather than an honorable adaptation of Wylie's excellent novel.
Not only that, Philip Wylie was a screenwriter on some of our favorite movies, like The Invisible Man, Island of Lost Souls, and Murders in the Zoo.
Philip Wylie became notorious for his scathing indictment of then-current society, Generation of Vipers. This infamous nonfiction book spared no scared cows in the author's outraged contempt for the conventions of modern living. Wylie even spent a considerable part of the book denouncing that most celebrated of institutions, motherhood. Generation of Vipers may outrage you, you may disagree with the author, but you should read it. It was one of the most important books of its time.
In the 1960's, when the counterculture movement embraced Generation of Vipers as a volume that condemned the previous generation that they rejected, Wylie turned the tables on them by writing Sons and Daughters of Mom, a scathing look at the hippie movement!
God, I wonder what Philip Wylie would think of today's world? Thankfully he died of a heart attack in 1971.
This piece is about Crunch and Des, but I wanted to give an overview of the life and career of Philip Wylie. And he did much more than I've written about. He wrote mysteries, experimental fiction (try Finley Wren: his Notions and Opinions sometime), he was a Marine Biologist, an editor, and he served on the Congressional Committee for Atomic Energy. Philip Wylie was a multi-talented, unusually intelligent man.
I know of the Crunch and Des stories, but I didn't go out of my way to read them. My brother was a fisherman and I told him about Philip Wylie. I was always telling him about writers, and he sometimes cared and sometimes didn't. But when I said that Wylie had written a bunch of stories about a charter fisherman and his exploits, he had to read them.
With my help Rick obtained the Crunch and Des stories, and he read them before I did. They became his favorites. Rick read them again and again, and I eventually abandoned my beloved monsters and space ships to take a cruise with Crunch and Des. It's a trip I never regretted.
I'm not sure how many Crunch and Des stories Wylie wrote, but there were at least eight collections of them. People loved them and these stories were part of what made fishing so popular even today.
I emphasize again: You do not need to be a fisherman to enjoy these stories. But if you are a fisherman and a reader, you simply have to have them.
Some of the Crunch and Des stories are extremely funny, like the very first one. Its hilarious title is Widow Voyage. Many are lightly humorous, with delicate irony. Many have an ecological message. Wylie was well ahead of the curve when it came to going green. Others are sheer adventure stories. All of them are purely delightful.
Captain Crunch and Desperate keep their boat, The Poseidon, at the dock in Florida's Key West. The marina and its surrounding streets are described as paradise in the stories. Crunch is the biggest, the best, and the most honorable fishing guide in the area. It's like Eden, with Crunch as the benevolent God. Those that conduct themselves with honor are treated with respect and generosity. Transgressors are cast out.
Some fiction entertains us. Some challenges us to think. Some makes us laugh, or perhaps cry. The Crunch and Des stories are good for the soul. They will enrich your life and make you a better person than before. Satisfaction guaranteed.
Sadly, I can't tell you that the Crunch and Des books will be easy to find, or reasonably-priced if you do find them. Most people that have these books are either hanging on to them, or asking exorbitant You can still get the 1990 collection, Crunch and Des: Classic Tales of Florida Fishing, which was edited by Wylie's daughter, Karen Wylie Pryor. Most copies are still pretty high, but ex-library editions are affordable. This would be the very best place to start.
You know what else is sad? When I was young, older fiction was constantly in print. Most of what I bought were old science fiction novels that had originally been published long before. Often decades earlier. Now only the biggest names from The Golden Age of SF are available. Just as you're only likely to see things by H.P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard in bookstores. Few young readers care to read fiction written in times past these days.
One final thing: There was a brief Crunch and Des TV show that ran from 1955-1956. Thirty nine episodes in all.Forrest Tucker played Captain Crunch Adams. I know that the shows won't hold a candle to Wylie's stories, but I'd still love to see some of them. I've been unable to locate any. If anyone reading this can help me find some, I'll be in your debt.
I'm still trying to take in the devastating news about Leisure Books. Their future is uncertain, it seems. At least from some of the rumors I've been hearing.
I've been a huge fan of what Leisure has done for the horror genre in the past couple of years. Yet part of me felt that their time was short. That's part of why I did this recent essay.
As sad as it makes me, I have doubts that there is a huge market for the kind of horror Leisure has given us. I think more readers crave things like Twilight, Sookie Stackhouse, and Anita Blake, than Edward Lee and Jack Ketchum.
And it kind of seemed too good to be true. Terrific horror coming out monthly, at extremely reasonable prices. When things seem too good to be true to me, that usually means that they will be ending soon.
The Digital Revolution is upon us. That became viscerally obvious on Black Friday, August 6th, 2010. Our most beloved publisher swiped the rug out from under us.
I don't blame Don D'Auria. He strikes me as a good guy that genuinely loves the genre.
Yet when I heard the news, I was crushed. I felt so sick and sad when I thought not only about the loss of real books, but the effect it might have on Leisure authors. And I thought about the printing presses, the book salespeople, the drivers, and the ink manufacturers.
I've driven through a small town probably fifty times in the last couple of years. I hated the smell of the paper mill that was the lifeblood of that town. It's no longer a problem. The paper mill closed down, effectively destroying the town. What will happen to all of those people? Welfare?
I hate to see those self-checkout lanes in grocery stores. THEY save money that way, but, funny, I don't see the customers getting much of a break. I believe the same will happen with e-books. The cost will be the same, but authors and readers won't get a break. They'll probably dupe you into thinking you're getting a great deal because of the convenience of being able to instantaneously get any book.
I'm talking about the major publishers. Independent e-book publishers will probably do more for their talent and their prices will probably be a lot more reasonable.
Hell, I've already seen e-books with higher prices than hardcovers at Amazon.
Getting back to paper, I'm not certain how bad the situation is with the natural resources. Trees are renewable, aren't they? Or is sustainable the correct word now? You hear that they are, then you hear that the rainforests are disappearing.
I know one thing: I'd much prefer to see books manufactured than the damned junk mail that shows up in nearly everyone's mailboxes daily. How many people recycle it? How many just throw it away? We have drive-in filmmaking legend, Herschell Gordon Lewis, to thank for a lot of it. He was a direct mail advertising pioneer.
At least with books, people cherish them. Pass them on to friends and loved ones. Donate them to charities.
But, really, it's the pocket-sized books I'll miss. I love them. If Leisure follows up on their announced plans to continue to publish in trade paperbacks using the POD technology, I'll buy my Laymons, my Lee books, Bryan Smith, Nate Kenyon, and all of my other favorites. Depending on the prices, I may be more reticent in trying out new writers.
Whatever happens, I'll still buy books as long as they're available. I have no plans to buy an electronic gadget to do my reading. You can laugh, or have contempt for me. The fact is, I love books. I know we all do, but I really, really love books. So much so that I can't contribute to something that is putting books on the endangered species list.
So you're getting ready to make an online purchase. A book, a movie, something along those lines. Hopefully you at least tried to support your local community by buying local. But the discount on a hardcover is hard to resist. And some items just aren't available locally. Ordering from a store is a pain. So you break out the old credit card and go for it.
I always used Amazon for the most part. They're hard to avoid. Amazon virtually has everything and their service is pretty damned good. I've made dozens of orders and I can't say that I've ever really had a problem.
When shopping locally, I prefer Borders, but their online prices are higher than the others. So I tend to avoid them.
I have made orders from Barnes and Noble, but for some reason I generally went with Amazon. No good reason for that other than lemminglike behavior.
I've been weighing the virtues of the main two online retailers.
Amazon, as I said, has nearly everything, Their prices are competitive, and their shipping is decent. Plus, and this is a big point, Amazon's site is the smoothest for navigating of them all. At least I think so. Their Search Engine is the best in the business. You get free Standard shipping with all qualifying orders over $25.00.
Barnes and Noble has a more esteemed history than that upstart Amazon. That might not mean a lot to a lot of people, but it carries some weight with me. Barnes and Noble is the biggest bookseller in America. I like that.
I've noticed lately that prices tend to be a bit cheaper at Barnes and Noble than Amazon. Not a hell of a lot, but a bit. With $25.00 worth of qualifying purchases, you get free shipping. Same as with Amazon.
But Amazon's free shipping option can take a long time. Two weeks isn't unheard of. Barnes and Noble usually ships much faster, which is a good thing. We all want our stuff faster.
Still, it's pretty comparable. Some pluses, some minuses.
There is, however, one big, big difference.
Barnes and Noble has actual stores. Not electronic stores, but real, brick and mortar, book stores.
I don't know about you, but there are few joys in this world as sweet as browsing through a bookstore. I like used bookstores a lot. Love them. But I also love to walk around in a bookstore, browsing titles, sipping tea. No hurry, just enjoying the company of thousands of books.
I don't think bookstores will go away, but I don't think it would hurt Amazon's feelings if they did. In fact, I have a funny feeling that Amazon's CEO Jeff Bezos would be thrilled if actual bookstores would disappear from the face of the world. Or become as rare as drive-in theaters.
So next time you are about to place an order with a online book retailer, please consider going with Barnes and Noble. Or Borders. Or any other company that supports real bookstores. As for my small part, I intend to stop using Amazon links in my reviews and commentaries, unless I absolutely have to. From now on I'm going to try to order from Barnes and Noble, while I do my local shopping at Borders, or Barnes and Noble.
I remember it like it was yesterday. Talk of a new format for watching movies. This concept would be a marriage of the compact disc, the CD-ROM, and movie storage. It was called DVD. Or sometimes known as Digital Video Disc. Some preferred Digital Versatile Disc, as it worked as a storage device that has many other uses than movie viewing.
I had been hearing murmurings about DVD, but I was, as always, skeptical. An article in the indispensable Video Watchdog Magazine changed my mind. Clearly, DVD was the future of home movie viewing. And even more importantly, movie collecting.
I took the plunge in the Winter of 1998. Earlier than many, but not as soon as some did. I took my Christmas bonus that year and bought myself a Sony DVD player. I don't remember the model number now, but it was the best player I ever owned. It, and my entire collection were stolen around three years later.
I took to the new format with enthusiasm. The first DVDs I bought were Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and Starship Troopers. Those were the first, but they were far from the last. I went berserk, as I have been known to do. I bought DVDs nearly every week. Multiple purchases. I began shopping at Circuit City, but I quickly grew disgusted by that place because of their attempt to monopolize the industry with their inferior DIVX technology. The Circuit City salespeople assured innocent customers that DIVX was the future and it wasn't going away. It was War, and we fought it with passion. DIVX did go away, and before long Circuit City followed suit. Good riddance, thought I and most other collectors.
Anybody remember DVD Express? It was the mail order outlet for purchasing DVDs for a while. I made many orders. Got many DVDs. Then the company expanded and started carrying games and other items. They changed their name to simply Express.com and the service went to crap.
Many began buying from Amazon, and WalMart became a major source for DVD purchases. Best Buy trumped Circuit City, beating them at their own game, and for a number of years were my preferred place to browse and buy DVDs.
We take it for granted now. Pristine prints of movies, in uncut form. Back in the fun, but gloomy years of VHS , we suffered through dim, truncated copies of the films we craved. Then, thanks to companies like Anchor Bay, we could easily get uncut movies by Dario Argento and Lucio Fulci and all the rest of the foreign product we wanted.
Then there were the extras! My God, movie fans were in heaven. Behind the scenes features, audio commentaries, short subjects, trailers galore. It was paradise.
People were buying everything. Collecting became affordable and who wanted to return a movie to a rental outlet when there were often hours of content on a disc?
It was routine for me to check online for the movie releases of the week. It was rare that a week went by when there wasn't at least one movie I wanted. Usually it was more than one. I would go to WalMart or Best Buy on release day, Tuesday, to get them. DVDs were sold at a reduced price in the initial week of release. And the obscure stuff I'd get online. I went with some independent places, but most often I would go with Amazon or Deep Discount.
Time passed. The newness of the DVD began to wear off. People that obsessively collected and watched movie began to spend more time and money on gaming. I used to prowl game stores for used DVDs and I constantly saw people bringing in piles of DVDs to trade for the latest games. Who wanted to sit and watch a movie when you can put yourself in to the action of an interactive game? Me, that's who.
But even I grew jaded. Special Edition DVDs no longer held the attraction that they once did. The behind the scenes stuff all started to look routine. Now I often do not even watch any of the extras. I almost never listen to commentaries any more. In a way it makes me sad.
God, all of the DVDs I've bought and then turned around and sold in desperate times. Sometimes I'd buy the same movie again. Just like in those old days when I'd obsessively rent and tape movies on blank tapes.
And now, like then, I have a collection of bootleg DVDs. Friends trade back and forth. It's wrong, yes, but I'm guilty of it. I don't think it's as bad as 'sharing' movie files with countless people over the internet, but it's essentially the same thing.
Now, years after I jumped on the DVD revolution early on, it seems to be dying. I'm sad about it, but I can't seem to care a whole lot. I still haven't jumped on the Blu-Ray bandwagon and I probably never will. Now there's Blu-Hi Def, which makes movies look like computer games to me. Home 3D is the next wave, and I'll intentionally be left behind.
The DVD looks to be obsolete soon. Too much better competition out there. Blu-Ray, as I mentioned, movies on demand, cable TV continues to get more sophisticated and alluring to people. Me, I hate it. It's all too complicated for someone like me. I miss just turning a knob on a cable and being done with it.
Netflix and Redbox are having a big effect on the industry, too. Why spend the big bucks when you can get a movie for a dollar a night right around the corner? That's cheaper than when I was renting tapes back in the mid-1980's. I just did it last night with The Runaways. And Netflix makes nearly every DVD available at an extremely low price. I was a subscriber, but I felt like I had to watch all of the movies that were constantly coming in. It was stealing from my reading time.
DVD sales are way down. The resale value of them has become almost nonexistent. I've had some financial difficulties lately, and I checked online for some prices and most of my collection is essentially worthless. And thrift stores are having increasing numbers of DVDs on their shelves for giveaway prices. That would have been unthinkable even a year ago.
Today I went into a Best Buy for the first time in a long time. I was half-hoping I'd find something I really wanted to watch. I was disappointed. The DVD selection was greatly depleted. There used to be so many more to choose from. And all of the obscure stuff is gone. Just releases from the major distributors were on the shelves.
I'm not jumping on any new technologies. I don't have the heart, or the finances to do so. These days I see what they have at the library. There are dozens to choose from there. I watch my old favorites. Mostly the beloved movies from the 80's. And if new extra-packed editions of John Hughes DVDs come out, I will be buying them. Other than that, I'm just about done with it. If I had all the money I blew on home video in my life...
There's no sense in dwelling on that. Nowadays I mostly prefer reading. I find it more rewarding. And I like going out and watching films at the theater. Even if most of them are pretty lame.
I look back on my love affair with DVD with affection and a pang of sorrow. I was so enthusiastic about it. Now I'm mostly apathetic.
I don't think there's a more controversial horror director than Dario Argento. Obviously superior people to me have angrily informed me that he is a hack. Some do not dispute his talent, but suggest that Argento is some sort of cinematic sadist. And some really intelligent people are convinced that Dario Argento is brilliant.
It's actually difficult to argue all of these points. Some of the Argento detractors are obviously talking about his entire body of work, or at least what they've seen. But then I consider movies like Phantom of the Opera and Mother of Tears, which I certainly (and sadly) think are hackwork.
Considering some of the choice scenes in films like Susperia, Tenebre, and Opera, I can hardly offer any argument that there is a sadistic mind behind the films.
And yes, Dario Argento has his fans. Many erudite film lovers are captivated by his work. None, however, have been more intelligent or perceptive than Maitland McDonagh.
I'm gonna state it right up front: I am in awe of Maitland McDonagh. This woman is incredibly smart, and is highly educated, but she writes about horror and exploitation films. How hot is that? McDonagh has written for periodicals as diverse as Film Comment, Premier, Entertainment Tonight, and Fangoria. She was also the senior movie editor for the TV Guide website.
Ms. McDonagh writes reviews at her FlickChick website, and it's one of my daily stops in cyberspace. Just recently I was delighted that she pretty much had the same opinion of me about the movie, Predators. A low one.
McDonagh has a Blog that I like to read. It's fun and informative. I mean, where else can I read about Paul Bartel giving instructions on how to make a smoothie? Like I said, awesome.
Back in the early 90's, Maitland McDonagh published a book about the work of Dario Argento. It was based on her Master's thesis on his work. The book was aptly titled Broken Mirrors/Broken Dreams. This is from a quote Argento's masterpiece, Susperia: "Bad luck isn't brought by broken mirrors, but by broken minds."
Broken Mirrors/Broken Dreams was published at a time when few had seen Argento's movies. Fewer still had seen them in their uncut forms. Dario's movies were notoriously censored when they were released here in America. I had seen Deep Red: The Hatchet Murders, Unsane, and Creepers. I liked them, but all were shorn of footage. Not just gore, but expository scenes as well.
I didn't buy Broken Mirrors/Broken Dreams. My money was almost always tight in those days. Had I seen it in a store, I probably would have gone for it. But I didn't. Nor did I buy Broken Mirrors/Broken Dreams when it was published again in 1994. I can't offer any excuse other than that I suck.
This time I got myself a copy of Broken Mirrors/Broken Dreams, and I'm so glad that I did. I'm not reading it cover to cover without breaks. I'm too immersed in the novels I'm trying to read to do that. No, I'm reading a chapter here, a chapter there.
I'll say it one more time. I am in awe of Maitland McDonagh. Her insights into Dario Argento and his work are nothing short of genius. I've seen the films many times myself, but McDonagh is presenting them to me in new ways. Ways I hadn't considered. The writing is educational, yes, but it's also fun. There's a lovely droll wit in the book. And McDonagh's voice is one of experience. She's not only remarkably well versed in the Dario Argento oeuvre, or in the exploitation genre, but in all of film history.
Not only that, I agree with her in a lot of cases. Most fans have high regard for the Argento movies that came from The Bird with the Crystal Plumage to Opera, so it's nothing new to agree with someone on those classics. But I agree with Ms. McDonagh that The Stendhal Syndrome is an underrated film. She feels that Mother of Tears is pretty much a waste of time. She calls it 'sadly unconvincing'. I think it's an overblown embarrassment. But some people I know like Mother of Tears a lot. God love 'em, but I don't get it.
Which brings me to Two Evil Eyes. Maitland McDonagh is less impressed with it than I. Oh, I emphatically agree about George Romero's story, The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar. She says it's like an episode of Night Gallery. Not awful, but not particularly good. Especially not in light of some of Romero's other movies.
McDonaugh is a bit dismissive of Argento's Two Evil Eyes Poe adaptation, The Black Cat. But I think it's one of Dario's better movies. Sure, I'll grant you that is doesn't have the visual opulence of Dario's classic movies, but The Black Cat is provocative and scary. McDonaugh rightly praises the dream footage in the film, but she isn't as enamored of the contemporary scenes. I, on the other hand, love the stark look of it. It's bleak, dark, and gloomy. And Harvey Keitel is marvelous as the amoral photographer, Rod Usher. John Amos, the Father on the TV sitcom Good Times, is a show-stealer as an upbeat, yet suspicious detective.
To test my memory I watched The Black Cat again last night. Yes, I skipped Romero's tired entry. It had been nearly a decade since I watched it. I hadn't spun the DVD since I first got the Blue Underground two-disc Special Edition DVD. The Black Cat is as good as I remembered it being. This film has good atmosphere, convincing gore effects, and some innovative cinematography. And for my money, Argento hasn't made as good a film since. I know; that's faint praise given the movies that have followed The Black Cat.
I haven't seen Dario Argento's latest film, the still-unreleased Giallo. Sadly, I haven't heard a lot of good things about it. I'll watch it for myself. I owe Dario that much. It wouldn't be the first time I disagreed with the masses. Take The Stendhal Syndrome: It's getting more respect now, but at the time of its release, I heard few good things about it. I loved it then and I still consider it to be one of my favorites of Argento's films. If I'd have listened to the naysayers....
Honestly, I've found things to like about all of Dario Argento's movies with the exceptions of Phantom of the Opera and Mother of Tears. Even the much-reviled The Card Player.
And that's the fun of reading a book like Broken Mirrors/Broken Dreams. A sharp writer like Maitland McDonagh challenges the reader to rethink his or her notions about a film. Actually, I haven't changed my tune about any of them, but this book forces me to look at the films from the other side of a broken mirror, and sometimes the fractured reflection is not the one I'm accustomed to.
The aesthetics of an actual book are as much a part of of the reading process as the words are. And I never much cared for anything that catered to the elite at the exclusion of the working stiff. I'm not exactly fond of paperbacks, some containing no more than a short story, that cost upward of $20.00, either.
Other mass market publishers do digest-sized horror fiction paperbacks, but Leisure is the one that seems the most interested in getting the fans what they want. Of course they're a business and can't lose money, but it is Leisure that brings is the hard underside of mass market horror publishing, like Lee, Ketchum, and Skipp. Names horror lovers like us have come to cherish.
I'm currently reading Bryan Smith's The Killing Kind. I'm very glad to say that it's one of the best books I've read this year. I previously enjoyed his last novel, Depraved, but The Killing Kind blows it outta the water. While Depraved was wildly over the top and grotesque, like an Edward Lee story, The Killing Kind is more like a hard-edged Jack Ketchum novel.
One of the points I'm trying to make here is, I tried to read Smith's first novel, House of Blood. I didn't make it very far, unfortunately. I think I see what he was trying to do. Bryan Smith was attempting to emulate the classic drive-in ( I prefer the term over grindhouse) picture. The kind of lean, dirty, low budget shocker that thrived in the 60's and 70's. For me it didn't come together, but I do intend to give it another try.
The same goes for Nate Kenyon. I tried to read his first novel, Bloodline. Again, I wasn't getting into the book and abandoned it. Yet after hearing good things about a later Kenyon title, Sparrow Rock, I tried again. And again, I was rewarded by it.
Would I have tried either author again if I had to pay around $20.00 for a flimsy paperback, regardless of whether it was signed? I don't believe so. I most certainly wouldn't have bought another hardcover by them. Especially a small press edition with an inflated price tag.
Leisure brings us two titles a month. I'll admit up front that not all of their authors are ones that I'd spend my money or time on. However, I am much, much more inclined to give a new writer a shot when I'm paying less than ten bucks to do so. Just as I am willing to give a writer another try if I didn't find my first one satisfactory.
Not only that, I like the feel of a digest-sized mass market paperback. It feels right in my hands. Growing up, at least 90% of the books I read were in this format. Probably 8% were hardcovers. And my least favorites were the larger-sized paperbacks, which are usually refereed to as trade paperbacks these days.
Every year I can look forward to two new books by Brian Keene from Leisure. I hope this continues for a long, long time. Same with Edward Lee. Leisure reprinted John Skipp & Craig Spector's classic novel of environmental horror, The Bridge, this year. And though I still have my old Bantam edition, I bought the new one. Damn right I did. You should, too. And maybe we will see new editions of the rest of Skipp and Spector's books in the next few years.
And what about Richard Laymon? Would his legion of fans be able to read his massive body of work without Leisure? Sure, probably, but it would cost them an arm and a leg.
John Skipp is publishing with Leisure, with new books. His current collaborator, Cody Goodfellow, appears to be a deranged as John is.
Ronald Malfi is a powerful new force in fiction, and his novel, Snow, was published by Leisure in March. October will see another horror novel from Malfi, called The Floating Staircase.
Genre favorite Jeff Strand has been a member of the Leisure family for a while now, and I hope it's a long and fruitful relationship. Same with Gord Rollo. John Everson. W. D. Gagliani.
Grandmaster Graham Masterton has also been a Leisure author for some time. And this year the incomparable Ramsey Campbell joined the ranks.
Buying Leisure books reminds me of when I was a kid and I raced to the bookstore to buy paperbacks from my favorite writers. They're usually handsome editions, but we're not paying for bells and whistles when we buy a Leisure book. We're buying the story. Isn't that what it's all about?
And you can call me a Luddite, or a hard-heading old fogey, but I won't be succumbing to the cold, plastic world of the Kindle, or the Nook, or the Kobo. God, the names alone sound petty and trivial.
I'm thankful to all that publish fiction. Horror fiction in particular. I have a special place in my heart for Leisure.
Now I'm going back to finish The Killing Kind, which, by the way, sports my favorite Leisure cover of all time.
The hype machine is out in full force with this one. The question on everyone's mind is, is The Passage worthy of it?
In this case, I say Believe the Hype.
I do, however, have a caveat or two. But let's start at the beginning.
The first chapter of The Passage is one of the finest openings to a book I've ever read. I was immediately hooked. In fact, this emotionally-charged initial chapter would make a heartbreaking short story on its own.
The Passage moves on to tell one of the most compelling and frightening stories I've ever read. You've heard that this is a vampire apocalypse story, right? Well, it sort of is and it sort of isn't. This isn't merely another book like The Strain, which I adored. Cronin has bigger stakes in mind and his novel is much more ambitious than Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan have with The Strain. Think epic. I'm talking like Tolkien or Swan Song.
The monsters in The Passage aren't vampires of the Judeo-Christian type. They're referred to as 'Virals' and were created by military scientists in an attempt to create a kind of super soldier. As usual in these matters, something goes terribly awry and humankind is nearly wiped from the planet. So far, so good.
Then at around page 250, I found the story dragging. It became a chore for me to continue. I hate to say it, because this book is so amazing, but I do feel that there are pacing problems in parts of it. If you're reading it and experiencing similar difficulties in proceeding, please, please stick with it. Your patience will be amply rewarded.
Also, those hungering for merely an action-packed vampire thriller are going to be sorely disappointed. Cronin largely keeps the bloodshed in the background and focuses on the effects of the plague on his characters. Some readers may feel cheated and I almost did at a few points. But everything comes together in the end and I believe that few readers will be disappointed.
As is typical in such stories, a quest is made by the group of protagonists. It's a long, dirty, perilous journey that is made by people born long after the plague depleted humanity. They go in search of understanding what destroyed the world as it was once known and perhaps to locate the key to bring about an end to the Viral Plague that crippled it.
The quest theme might be a cliche, but Justin Cronin has lots of surprises in store for his readers. While some parts of The Passage are slow, all of the detail comes into play in the story. Before you know it you'll be finding time to read the book throughout the day and night. My own life took a backseat to The Passage for the last week and I suspect yours will as well.
Not yet published at the time of this writing, The Passage is already a literary phenomenon. Buzz is everywhere and lettered and limited editions from Cemetery Dance sold out in near record time. A movie is already in the works. You don't want to be the last one on board this wild ride. Do yourself a favor and buy the book right away. Then I recommend that you take a few vacation days from your job.
James Herbert. I don't think he gets the respect that he deserves. Hell, that he has earned.
It's nearly impossible to accurately gauge just how influential James Herbert has been in the horror genre. He started publishing way back in 1974. This was the same year that Stephen King has his debut novel, Carrie, published. But Herbert's first novel was a lot nastier than Carrie. The Rats was and remains a hard-hitting, gut-wrenching, down-and-dirty story of chemically enhanced rats that have a voracious appetite for human flesh. Though more than a little bit pulpy, The Rats is a lean and well-written horror yarn. And it was very successful.
James Herbert followed The Rats a year later with The Fog, another novel about the dire effects of man's use of chemicals. The Fog is no relation to Carpenter's film. I like John's movie, but the novel makes it look like a bedtime story.
On a more or less yearly basis, James Herbert continued to deliver novel after novel to his legion of fans. As the adverts loved to say, he outsold Stephen King in England.
The early novels of James Herbert are almost comically violent. In time he learned restraint, but not without losing the vitality that his readers loved. His books range from atmospheric ghost stories, to dark fantasy, science fiction, and even family friendly fantasy, as with the delightful Fluke.
You just don't hear a lot about James Herbert in the community, which is a goddamn shame. The man has sold millions of books and directly or indirectly has influenced the entire genre.
If you haven't read him, you can start just about anywhere. If writers like Richard Laymon are your cup of tea, go for The Fog. If you enjoy haunted house stories, I recommend the appropriately titled Haunted. If you like grisly serial killer stories with a supernatural edge, you won't go wrong with Moon. The Magic Cottage is a fantastique tale something like a less wordy Clive Barker might write. Fluke is a tale of revenge and reincarnation that could be a work by a British Richard Matheson.
James Herbert has slowed down his frantic publication rate in the last decade, but he's still going strong. Coming up later this year is Ash, which presumably features the paranormal investigator, David Ash, who appeared in the previous novels, Haunted and The Ghosts of Sleath. I, for one, cannot wait.
This stuff has gotten so ridiculous that I'm more amused than antagonized. Fans are practically having aneurysms over it all, especially the latest Romero/Argento news. And I think it's going to get worse. I wish that producers would try to do more original films, but look at our society. Cool little family restaurants close down while generic fast food houses of death thrive. People numbly stumble into their local Starbucks like extras from a recent Romero flick. WalMarts are identical clones of one another. It comforts people. America does not want different. The few do, of course, but the money speaks from the masses. Always has. Always will.
Surreptitiously checking out various horror forums and blogs, I see that people are upset as hell about the current state of affairs. Remakes, 3D, sequels of remakes. Recent news about Argento and Romero have gotten a lot of derisive comments. If you haven't heard, Dario Argento is slated to make Dracula 3D, and even more outrageous, George Romero is in talks to remake Argento's classic Deep Red. Yes, in 3D.
Now, I'm a huge fan of the work of both of these talented individuals. Yet I'm not blind to the inferior films they have been recently making.
Look at Dario's work of late. Many point toward The Stendhal Syndrome as the starting point of his downfall, but I love that movie. And, to be honest, I've found things to enjoy in most of his films. The exceptions are Phantom of the Opera and Mother of Tears, both of which I thought were worthless. Still, even though I liked movies like Do You Like Hitchcock and Sleepless, only a fool would say that they can compare with masterpieces like Susperia, Deep Red, Tenebre, or even Phenomena. Has Dario lost his reserves of talent?
Maybe. Almost certainly it's partially true. But when Argento made his landmark movies, the Italian film industry seemed healthy and was thriving. Dario doesn't seem to have gotten the budgets or the caliber of crews that he has deserved. It can easily be argued that no money could improve Phantom of the Opera or Mother of Tears, but his films often defied logic or cohesiveness. Dario Argento's strength was always the triumphant visual style he brought to his projects.
What of Romero? Here's a guy whose greatest strength was his independence from the major studios. What's the story there?
Probably the well has at least partially run dry. But unlike others, I haven't hated the last couple of Dead films I've seen. So far I haven't watched Survival of the Dead. The only Romero film to date I've completely loathed has been Bruiser.
I wonder how much influence Romero's former partner, Richard Rubinstein, had on the great films? He worked with George from Martin to Day of the Dead. These were some of his greatest movies: Dawn of the Dead, Creepshow, and my personal favorite, Knightriders. It's easy to point to where things starting going south for George Romero.
But the question remains: Should these revered directors cheapen themselves by making Dracula 3D and Deep Red 3D? Many say NO.
I say, I guess it's up to them. Working directors WORK. It's their job and while both Dario Argento and George Romero may be financially comfortable, I sort of doubt that they are filthy with money. I bet that both of them would rather be doing something other than these projects, regardless of what they might say in interviews. 3D remakes are hot right now. Neither George nor Dario have been behind a moneymaker in a long time. If they want to work, they probably have no choice but to take jobs like these.
Todd Rundgren is one of my all-time favorite musicians. A few years ago he took a job as a Ric Ocasec surrogate for The New Cars. Fans were outraged. SELL OUT!, they roared from their desk-or-laptop thrones. Many of whom undoubtedly work dead end, soul killing, menial jobs. Todd replied publicly, saying that almost everyone out there had jobs and he was sure that they had to evolve to survive in the marketplace. Just as he had to do. Plus Todd had crewmembers, many of whom had families, that needed to stay employed and by joining The New Cars he could do so for a year or two until his own new projects came together.
I never knock anyone for doing what they have to do to make a living. As long as it's not illegal or hurting anyone. If these controversial projects get made, I hope that all fans at least pay the directors the respect of seeing them for themselves. Judge them then, certainly. For now let's try to keep our hopes high.
And suddenly, before we knew it, the 80's were over.
I wonder how many were even aware of the implications. I certainly wasn't. Another birthday, another calender chance. I wasn't aware at the time that the 80's would be the decade that I would love the most in my life. I grew up in the 70's and there was a lot of cool stuff going on then. There was more individuality in society. More drive-in theaters. More freedom.
But I loved the styles of the 80's more. The music, the movies. Slasher films were big in the first half, and I think they at least partially paved the way for the teen movie wave that came in the second half.
I also wonder how many people foresaw the changes that the 1990's would bring? Music changed, and turned dark and, for me, boring. Body art and modification became the trend. Lots and lots of negativity, anger, and hatred.
But in 1990, I was aware of none of it. At the beginning of the year I still wasn't making a lot of money, but that would begin to change by 1991. The local drive-in theaters were all gone by then. I was beginning to grow weary of movies. Since I had gotten my first VCR, I was watching two, three, sometimes more a night. I slowed down, but still watched a lo. As you can see.
Below is a list of the movies I enjoyed in 1990. Not all of them are good movies, but I feel nostalgia for all of them for one reason or another. This list does not comprise all of the movies I saw in that year. Just ones I enjoyed. Hence the omission of films like Betsy's Wedding, Dances With Wolves, and Joe vs. the Volcano, Loose Cannons, Navy Seals, and Pretty Woman. Among many others.
Without further ado, here they are. Hopefully these titles will jog some happy memories from some of you as well.
The asterisk denotes movies I particularly enjoyed.
After Dark, My Sweet
Alice
The Ambulance
Another 48 Hours
Arachnophobia
Awakenings
Baby Blood
Back to the Future Part III
Bad Girls from Mars
Bad Influence
Basket Case 2
Blood Salvage
Book of Love*
Brain Dead
Bride of Re-Animator
Cadillac Man
Cartel
Child's Play 2
Circuitry Man
Class of 1999
Cold Dog Soup
Come See the Paradise*
Cry-Baby*
Darkman
Downtown
Dreams*
Edward Scissorhands*
Exorcist III*
Far Out, Man
The First Power
Flashback
Flatliners
Frankenhooker*
Frankenstein Unbound
Goodfellas*
Graveyard Shift
Green Card
Gremlins 2: The New Batch
The Grifters
Grim Prairie Tales
The Guardian
Guns
Hard To Die
Hardware
Henry and June
House Party
The Haunting of Morella
The Hot Spot
The Invisible Maniac
I Love You to Death
Internal Affairs
Jacob's Ladder
King of New York
The Krays
La Femme Nikita*
Life Is Sweet*
Lisa
Lord of the Flies
Luther the Geek
Maniac Cop 2
Marked for Death
Men At Work
Miami Blues*
Miller's Crossing*
Mirror, Mirror
Misery
Mister Frost
Night Angel
The Night Brings Charlie
Night of the Living Dead
Nightbreed
Predator 2
Pump up the Volume
Quick Change
Red Blooded American Girl
The Reflecting Skin*
Reversal of Fortune*
Robocop 2
Satan's Princess
Skinned Alive
The Sleeping Car
Slumber Party Massacre III
Sorority House Massacre II
Soultaker
The Spirit of '76
Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat
Syngenor
Tales from the Darkside: The Movie
Leatherface: Texas Chainsaw Massacre III
Texasville
Total Recall
Tremors
Trust*
Two Evil Eyes
Vincent and Theo
Watchers 2
Welcome Home, Roxy Carmichael
White Hunter Black Heart
Wild at Heart*
I plan to explore the movies of the 90's further in future updates, but I wouldn't hold my breath for it to happen any time soon. These lists take a lot of time.
In 1987, horror fans were hotly awaiting the debut feature from director Clive Barker. The film was Hellraiser, and one of its marketing phrases was "There are no limits". Most of us couldn't wait. We did not want limits. The film was a success. It was well ahead of its time and the so-called Pinhead character become a horror icon.
Robert Bloch once wrote of the increasing violence in horror movies. Being a fan of classic, atmospheric horror, it disturbed him. He reflectively asked, what happens when Night of the Living Dead is no longer enough for bloodthirsty fans. (that's a paraphrase).
We were those fans. Sure, we loved Night of the Living Dead, but we wanted, craved more. We got it from many filmmakers and NotLD's own director, George Romero, outdid himself at least twice.
Limits? Ha!
I guess you can say that I became a seeker. I wanted to see it all. I watched sleazy Italian and Spanish horror movies. John Waters grossout comedies. The Cinema of Transgression. Nekromantik, and other atrocities by Jorg Buttgereit. It was fun and I considered myself quite worldly. I laughed at squeamish people.
The one that hurt me the most is one of the most notorious films ever made. I'm talking about Passolini's Salo. The words brutal and disgusting do not even come close to describing this picture. What made Salo so disturbing is the brilliance in which it was made.
It's hard to describe what makes otherwise ordinary individuals enjoy watching movies where people are viciously killed. And not just an odd movie here and there, but people that obsessively collect these films and watch them over and over again. Are we sick? I think the answer is, yeah, a little.
In recent years, a simple throat slit or impalement hasn't been enough for viewers. Hardcore horror fans wanted more than a simple garroting or disembowelment. No, it was more grueling to watch actual torture on screen.
Most of that stuff doesn't appeal to me, though I do like the Hostel films, much to the dismay of some of my friends. Hopefully the torture trend has run its course, though I did hear that a sequel to The Collector has been greenlighted.
Now we have The Human Centipede, which is certainly one of the most nauseating premises ever conceived for a feature motion picture. It's about...well, I'll let you watch the trailer if you haven't heard about it.
The question is, do we need to see this? Medical horror is nothing new. David Cronenberg made several amazing movies that dealt with gruesome surgical techniques. But this, this Human Centipede. I wonder if this is the beginning of a new trend. I hope not.
How far do we, as horror fans, need to go? When this isn't enough, what next? It's like people that are addicted to internet sex. Going farther and farther with kink and perversions to take the kick to ever-sprawling lengths, until the beautiful, natural sight of a naked woman or a man is no longer enough to elicit desire.
We're changed by the things we see, whether we realize it at the time. Murder, rape, torture, it's no longer enough. Maybe it's time we stopped.
No, I am emphatically not advocating censorship. That's a bad road for anyone to go down. What I am suggesting is censoring our own intake of extreme footage.
The twenty-seven-year-old me didn't believe in limits, but the forty eight year old me is starting to.
Where is your line drawn? Footage of a beheading from a country far away? The slaughter of a dog or cat? A snuff film? Pedophilia?
I know that it's not the same thing. The Human Centipede is fictional and is a product of imagination and special effects. But the imagery that goes into our brains might well be something we do not want.
Everyone is talking about The Human Centipede, it seems. I've heard it's the most disturbing film ever made. I've heard it's an artistic achievement. I've heard that it's an endurance test for audiences. And I've heard that it's a sham. The only way to know for sure is to see for ourselves.
But I've come to believe in limits and lines. We all draw our own and I think I'm going to draw the line at The Human Centipede. It's not something I need to see. I think maybe it's time, instead, to break out the Universal classics again.
Tomorrow, the remake of Wes Craven's A Nightmare On Elm Street opens. Despite my sarcastic little ditty above, I'm really looking forward to it.
I'm a longtime fan. Nothing says 80's horror like Freddy Krueger. It seemed like everyone loved the films, and not just horror lovers. I enjoyed them all, even the ones that are the most reviled.
Honestly, I wasn't that impressed when I first saw A Nightmare On Elm Street. Oh, I enjoyed it well enough, but I wasn't singing hosannas like so many others were. I thought that the film borrowed liberally from Don Coscarelli's Phantasm and I also thought that Phantasm was the better picture. Freddy Krueger touched something in society's consciousness and he became an icon.
The Elm Street franchise was big business and it was a boon to New line Cinema. They used to call the company The House That Freddy Built. Sure, New Line had other successes, but the Freddy Krueger films were what put New Line up with the bigger studios.
Devotees of the genre read about the disputes between New Line and Wes Craven. Craven went on record saying that he hated the car scene at the end of A Nightmare On Elm Street, but the studio insisted upon it. I think they knew exactly what they were doing. Their accountants obviously agreed. I believe that all of the films were successes, but the first four were big money for New Line.
Freddy was the darling of Fangoria Magazine, too. Issues that had his mug on the cover were sure to sell better than others and they used it every chance they could.
I watched A Nightmare On Elm Street again last night. I still think it's a good, but not great, movie. The effects look crude to my jaded eye, but they worked at the time. And again I was struck at how dark the movie is. I'm not talking about dank and dreary, like some of the Platinum Dunes remakes are, but oppressive and scary dark.
And boy, look how young Johnny Depp is in it. Who would have guessed that this New Wave Lite kid would become one of the most beloved cult actors of all time?
Freddy's Revenge was the first sequel, and it's the most bugfuck of the series. I'm not sure exactly what writer David Chaskin and director Jack Sholder were striving for with this bizarre movie. It certainly feels completely different from the rest of the series. But audiences ate it up.
If they ate up Freddy's Revenge, they devoured Dream Warriors, which is the second sequel. This is the one that most fans say is their favorite after the original. I think it might be my fave of them all. Even though this is the movie that really began Freddy's reputation as a stand up comedian. He cracked wise in the first two, but the jokes were nonstop in Dream Warriors.
It definitely didn't hurt that Chuck Russell directed and co-wrote Dream Warriors. Frank Darabont had a hand in the screenplay, too. But fans were mainly ecstatic to see their beloved Heather Langenkamp back as Nancy. Genre giant John Saxon also returned as Nancy's father.
What made Dream Warriors work is the depth of characters in the film. That and the delirious effects and death scenes. What horror fan doesn't hold the line, "Welcome to Prime Time, Bitch!, near to his or her heart?
The great writer, William Kotzwinkle, was brought it for Elm Street 4: The Dream Master. Sadly, less distinguished writers finished the work on it and it shows. The third sequel made the most money of the lot, but I think that was mostly due to the strength of Dream Warriors. Expectations were high, and while most enjoyed the movie, the reception to it wasn't as good as the first three films.
The Dream Master was an ambitious film, but ultimately it was a let down. Still, it's a lot of fun.
Horror fiction fans were stoked that Splatterpunk authors John Skipp and Craig Spector were writing the screenplay for the fifth Elm Street production. How could The Dream Child miss? Well, maybe by having it rewritten numerous times. Who knows? Maybe it wasn't a good script, or perhaps it was unfilmmable. Either way, the end results were disappointing to almost everyone. Yeah, there are cool parts, and I do like it, but the high concept of a baby for Freddy Krueger fell far short of expectations. Clearly the end was near. Freddy's Dead is really the last film as I see it. The studio tried to wrap up their lucrative series in a no-holds-barred conclusion. But it ended up seeming silly. Again, despite some great scenes, the film felt lukewarm and light. And anytime Tom Arnold and Roseanne are involved in a project, you know it's time to call it a day.
Wes Craven had his say at last with Wes Craven's New Nightmare. The veteran director employed psychology in this one, but the sales were disappointing. The audience wasn't having it. I saw New Nightmare in the theater and a couple of time since, and I honestly can't remember a thing about it.
The less said about Freddy Vs. Jason the better. It doesn't feel like a Freddy or a Jason movie to me. Having Ronny Yu, a Hong Kong director with a striking visual style, come in for this project seems like a great choice, but most fans hated it. I thought Yu did better with Bride of Chucky.
Now comes the inevitable remake. Will this satisfy longtime fans of the series? I really don't think Platinum Dunes gives a fuck. As long as the seats are filled with kids, they'll be happy. Their track record with horror remakes isn't good, but maybe this will please fans old and new. I do think that having Jackie Earle Haley as Freddy Krueger is a great choice.
We'll find out this weekend. I hope that everyone goes out and gets their ticket torn to see for themselves whether it's a good film or not.
I first heard of John Skipp and Craig Spector in the pages of the badly-missed Twilight Zone Magazine. Or maybe it was Night Cry, its sister publication. Either way, I believe that I read an excerpt of The Light at the End, and I immediately knew that this was the stuff for me.
I was embarking on a new life for myself at the time. A live-in girlfriend, with a baby on the way, was part of the deal. It was an exciting, yet terrifying, time for me. Mostly it was exhilarating. The new horror writers were a big part of what made it such a special time of my life. Along with Skipp and Spector, there were exciting talents like David J. Schow, Joe R. Lansdale, Ray Garton, Richard Christian Matheson. These and other writer were ushering in a new type of horror fiction. Postmodern, ultra hip, cutting edge writing that was as influenced by hard rock and roll and midnight cult films as any literary tradition.
I didn't consider Skipp and Spector to be among the finest writers of their day. But I did think they were the coolest and the most fun to read. I never waited very long before beginning a new book of theirs when it came out.
Cut to a few years later. I was entering another new life for myself. The woman I lived with fled for her sanity and I started upon a new career. At a job where I am currently still employed. It was a big move for me, but a good one. Making the change was tough, but I weathered the storm. I had no money for a while, what with the two-week delay in paychecks and the pitiful money I had been earning before the new job. When I finally had a paycheck that wasn't entirely spoken for, I went to the mall as soon as I had the cash in my hot little hands. The mall had a WaldenBooks, which was at the time my main spot for purchasing books. I was thrilled to see a new Skipp and Spector book out. It was so new that it wasn't even on the shelves yet. Copies were still on the rolling carts that the employees used to get the books to their proper places. I snatched up that book, which was The Bridge.
The Bridge was, to me, a huge leap in maturity and style for Skipp and Spector. It is arguably the most accomplished, assured, and important book of their wildly successful career together. Most fans I've talked to agree.
I was disappointed by the final Skipp and Spector book, Animals. I need to read it again. I had learned that John and Craig had called it quits and I felt that Animals didn't flow as well as all the others did. Most fans disagree with that, and it's very possible that my sadness over the breakup caused my dissatisfaction for the book.
It was the end of an era. An era that was near and dear to my heart. Horror didn't die, of course, but neither John nor Craig published much for quite a while after Animals came out. Craig Spector did a couple of good books as well as some short stories. John collaborated with Marc Levinthal on various projects. I enjoyed all of it, but the partnership of Skipp and Spector was sorely missed.
Meanwhile, I became active in the horror field. Mostly as an observer and a message board moderator. I always wanted to meet John and Craig. I did meet John, and he was just as cool and crazy (but intelligent) as I thought he'd be. I never met Craig in the flesh, but I interviewed him and I had numerous phone conversations with him. Again, Craig was sharp, funny, and as intense as I knew he'd be.
Craig began to reprint the Skipp and Spector books at the beginning of this decade with his Stealth Press, but he only made it to The Scream. I felt and continue to feel that all of their classic works should be preserved in lasting, hardcover editions.
That might not be happening, but Leisure Books has now published The Bridge in a brand spanking shiny new paperback edition. I still own the old paperback, but I bought The Bridge in its new edition today. Tomorrow, after I finish the book I'm currently reading, I plan to start reading it.
And I'm in a new phase of my life once again. Bruised and hurting from a failed marriage and a painful divorce, I'm looking ahead again at new prospects. This time I'm making real money and I have a lot of cool things going on with this website and also with various other projects I'm involved in. Horror is going strong. Stronger than it has since the days when John and Craig turned the genre on its ear with their provocative writing. Somehow, I'm still here, and so are they. We've survived. I know that I'm looking forward to new challenges and a lot of new horror to come. John's back with a new partner, the seemingly deranged Cody Goodfellow. We haven't heard from Craig since his collaborative graphic novel with Whitley Strieber, The Nye Incidents. I somehow doubt that we've heard the last of him. And I think that, despite all odds, John will be around for a long time, too. I can't wait to see what's to come, but I also look forward to indulging in the glorious past, starting with The Bridge.
He's well known to our forum users. Robert Brouhard has been exhaustively keeping tabs on the small horror presses for the last year or so. Keeping tabs and keeping them on their toes. Not that he is trying to make them look bad. Robert is one of their biggest supporters. He wants them to succeed and continue to bring us the best fiction that the horror genre has to offer. Robert goes by the name, Antmusic, on the board.
Robert Brouhard is a fan and he's the most enthusiastic one I know. He reminds me of me about ten years ago. Before I became the bitter, cynical crank you see before you.
We've been neglect in bringing you reviews of genre publications lately. Our other reviewer, Andy Monge, has been doing a hell of a job, but his time is limited.
As for me, it's been a very hard couple of years. My marriage exploded and I was separated from my wife and children. I tried very hard to reconcile, to bring us back together, but it was in vain. These past few months have been among the worst of my life. I've barely been able to even read, much less get reviews written and uploaded.
And I owe a lot of people apologies. I neglected to review products that were sent to me in good faith. I even neglected to reply to certain parties that contacted me with requests to review their books. I'm deeply sorry. I never meant for it to get like that. If you've ever been through a divorce, I think you can understand.
I'm getting back on my feet and Robert is on the team. Andy will continue to review books. And Rudy Schwartz will (hopefully) keep bringing you the most unique movie reviews on the web.
In other words, we're open for business and open for review copies. We're negotiable in regard to electronic books for review, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we prefer hardcopies.
Please send your requests to me and I'll disperse them to the reviewer that is best suited to the task.
Thanks for reading Horror Drive-In and I look forward to hearing from you.
The stiffest nipples in the history of zombie horror fiction jut defiantly from the pages of The Loving Dead, Amelia Beamer's eye-popping fornicopia of fiercely literate laughs, provocation, and mayhem. 
I didn't get around to reading about ex-boxer Captain Crunch Adams and his hungry-for-a-catch First Mate, Desperate, until years after I began reading Philip Wylie. I first took a notion to sample his writing after I read an essay about Wylie by the great Theodore Sturgeon. I began with a 1951 science fiction novel called The Disappearance, which was a study of a world that awakened one morning with one sex completely gone. It was ingeniously told in alternating chapters in which men found themselves suddenly without women, and with women waking up in world without men. The Disappearance is a profoundly intelligent SF novel, especially when one considers the time it was published. The Disappearance is one of the first novels in the genre that dealt with homosexuality in any sort of mature manner.
Philip Wylie became notorious for his scathing indictment of then-current society, Generation of Vipers. This infamous nonfiction book spared no scared cows in the author's outraged contempt for the conventions of modern living. Wylie even spent a considerable part of the book denouncing that most celebrated of institutions, motherhood. Generation of Vipers may outrage you, you may disagree with the author, but you should read it. It was one of the most important books of its time.
Captain Crunch and Desperate keep their boat, The Poseidon, at the dock in Florida's Key West. The marina and its surrounding streets are described as paradise in the stories. Crunch is the biggest, the best, and the most honorable fishing guide in the area. It's like Eden, with Crunch as the benevolent God. Those that conduct themselves with honor are treated with respect and generosity. Transgressors are cast out.
Amazon, as I said, has nearly everything, Their prices are competitive, and their shipping is decent. Plus, and this is a big point, Amazon's site is the smoothest for navigating of them all. At least I think so. Their Search Engine is the best in the business. You get free Standard shipping with all qualifying orders over $25.00.
I've noticed lately that prices tend to be a bit cheaper at Barnes and Noble than Amazon. Not a hell of a lot, but a bit. With $25.00 worth of qualifying purchases, you get free shipping. Same as with Amazon.
I had been hearing murmurings about DVD, but I was, as always, skeptical. An article in the indispensable Video Watchdog Magazine changed my mind. Clearly, DVD was the future of home movie viewing. And even more importantly, movie collecting.
Anybody remember DVD Express? It was the mail order outlet for purchasing DVDs for a while. I made many orders. Got many DVDs. Then the company expanded and started carrying games and other items. They changed their name to simply Express.com and the service went to crap.
Now, at last, 
I do, however, have a caveat or two. But let's start at the beginning.
James Herbert. I don't think he gets the respect that he deserves. Hell, that he has earned.
If you haven't read him, you can start just about anywhere. If writers like Richard Laymon are your cup of tea, go for The Fog. If you enjoy haunted house stories, I recommend the appropriately titled Haunted. If you like grisly serial killer stories with a supernatural edge, you won't go wrong with Moon. The Magic Cottage is a fantastique tale something like a less wordy Clive Barker might write. Fluke is a tale of revenge and reincarnation that could be a work by a British Richard Matheson. 
Now, I'm a huge fan of the work of both of these talented individuals. Yet I'm not blind to the inferior films they have been recently making.
The Bridge was, to me, a huge leap in maturity and style for Skipp and Spector. It is arguably the most accomplished, assured, and important book of their wildly successful career together. Most fans I've talked to agree.
