10) SICK (dir John Hyams)
9) SKINAMARINK (dir. Kyle Edward Ball)
8) BAD THINGS (dir. Stewart Thorndike)
7) TOTALLY KILLER (dir. Nahnatchka Khan)
6) SCREAM VI (dir. Tyler Gillett and Matt Bettinelli-Olpin)
5) INFINITY POOL (dir. Brandon Cronenberg)
4) TALK TO ME (dir. Danny Philippou and Michael Philippou)
3) EVIL DEAD RISE (dir. Lee Cronin)
2) THE ANGRY BLACK GIRL AND HER MONSTER (dir. Bomani Story)
1) HUESERA: THE BONE WOMAN (dir. Michelle Garza Cervera)
In 2023, television reigned the horror landscape. As the year comes to a close, join RUE MORGUE in remembering our favorite horror series of 2023. Follow the link, and you’ll find my list of the 5 best horror TV shows of the year, plus my picks for the best episodes from each.
Last year, I was fortunate enough to get the chance to review Scott Slone's MALIBU HORROR STORY as a part of Panic Fest 2022. Now, Slone's found-footage film is only a few days away from being released in theaters! I am so pleased to share that the MALIBU HORROR STORY team has chosen to feature a quote from my review on one of their posters - check it out!
At only 18 years old, SOFIA ISELLA is already one of her generation’s foremost social critics within the music industry. Her stark, unsettling, dynamic music combines elements of industrial electronic with Sofia’s rich vocals and her experience as a classically trained musician to create an immersive world of her own creation. Influenced by her own observations of the world – as well as her love for dark, sometimes horrific, imagery – Sofia’s lyrics critique sexism, internet addiction, and imagine a future that belongs to the people who have traditionally been excluded from historical narratives. In between festival appearances, Sofia took some time to chat with us here at Rue Morgue about her artistry, her love of the horror genre, and her upcoming single “Everybody Supports Women,” out today.
Read the entire interview at Rue-Morgue.com.
From the writings of John William Polidori (The Vampyre) and Sheridan Le Fanu (Carmilla) in the 1800s, to the lesbian vampire films of the 1970s, the vampire has long been used in fiction as a symbol of same-sex attraction and sexuality. Even before modern conceptions of queerness were formulated, the vampire embodied sexual taboos such as pre-marital sex, promiscuity, and sadomasochism. However, given the intimate and penetrative aspects of the vampire’s bite - as well as the monster’s indiscriminate choice of victims - the figure of the vampire provides the perfect veil for authors and filmmakers who wish to explore queer desire, sex, and lifestyles in their work.
Two vampire films from the 1980s, in particular, make noticeable use of the vampire’s inherent allure to explore the implied homoerotic desires of their protagonists: FRIGHT NIGHT (1985) and THE LOST BOYS (1987). Both films follow the descent of a teenage boy into the world of the vampiric and reckon with the impossible contradiction of attraction and repulsion that the vampire inspires within them. This inconsistency of feeling mirrors the undeniable attraction crossed with internalized homophobia that young queer men were likely to experience in 1980s America.
While FRIGHT NIGHT’s Charley and THE LOST BOYS’ Michael have heterosexual love interests in each film, their relationships with those women take a backseat to their interactions with the vampire they encounter. These women, Amy and Star respectively, are barely fully fleshed-out characters and seem to exist purely as vampire bait, facilitating the conflict between Charley, Michael, and the vampires. To begin with FRIGHT NIGHT, Tom Holland’s film is the more explicitly homoerotic of the two, with more than a few scenes that will cause any queer viewer to raise an eyebrow.
For one, FRIGHT NIGHT’s resident vampire Jerry lives with a man - another non-human named Billy. It is unclear whether or not Billy is a vampire; however, as Jerry’s servant and protector, it is heavily implied that their relationship is more than platonic. Later in the film, Jerry corners Charley’s queer-coded best friend “Evil Ed” in a hallway, and tempts him to the ways of the undead with the following offer:
“Hello, Edward. You don't have to be afraid of me. I know what it's like being different. Only they won't pick on you anymore... or beat you up. I'll see to that. All you have to do is take my hand. Go on, Edward. Take my hand!”
These lines paint a picture of Jerry as an older queer man offering Ed a new life of freedom, an entrance into a world where his differences would be embraced. In another scene, Jerry emerges from Charley’s closet to attack him, before violently throwing his body back through the closet doors. The symbolism of the metaphorical “closet,” as well as what it means to go in or “come out” of it, is clear, and surely not lost on those queer individuals behind the camera or in front of the screen. Unfortunately for Jerry, heterosexuality wins out. He and Billy are vanquished, Ed is possibly dead, and Charley and Amy live happily ever after when the film concludes. This time, it seems, the straight way of life has reeled our protagonist back in - his status quo undisrupted.
Three years later, the world saw the release of Joel Schumacher’s teen vampire epic THE LOST BOYS. Drawing inspiration from the tale of Peter Pan, THE LOST BOYS follows brothers Michael and Sam as they move to a new town with a deadly secret. As the boys soon learn, their new home of Santa Carla is also home to a gang of teenage vampires - lost boys in leather who terrorize the streets of Santa Carla from the backs of their motorcycles. The “lost boys” are led by David, a vicious killer who takes a liking to Michael after his half-vampire consort Star catches Michael’s eye. While Michael is supposed to be Star’s first kill, in order to complete her transformation into a vampire, David offers to let Michael join their gang instead. The only problem is, Michael has no idea that the boys are vampires…until it is too late.
After unknowingly drinking David’s blood from an ornate bottle, Michael begins to transform into a vampire. As his transformation progresses, the vampires begin to push him through more and more intense initiation rituals, which Michael begins to realize will leave him undead if he completes them. As he begins to change, Michael’s dreams are haunted by David’s voice, calling him out to play with their crew. At first, Michael enjoys the camaraderie he finds with the vampires and the competition over Star that he engages in with David, and the other vampires seem to enjoy his company as well. However, when Star and the child vampire Laddie need Michael’s help to escape David’s influence, Michael teams up with his little brother and the Frog brothers to kill all of the vampires, saving himself from their fate.
Both Jerry and the vampires from THE LOST BOYS have an inherent element of cool. While Jerry is suave and refined, the vampire gang is alternative, hardcore. Their demeanors invite you to like them, and inspire intrigue, despite the clear danger they pose. However, their lifestyles are each differently queer. Where Jerry apparently has a live-in partner - who is also a man - David and his henchmen live communally, in a homosocial group with the exception of Star (who is more of a toy than a true member of their troop).
It is worth acknowledging that these tales about the fear of vampirism - or indeed queerness - are occurring at the height of the AIDS crisis, and a time when American society was less than welcoming to the queer community. In fact, even today we are seeing an increase in homophobic sentiment in the states around the country. However, these fears are nothing new, and neither is the queer community. We’ve always been here, and we always will be. We will outlive those who try to put us in the ground. Immortal, just like the vampires that have symbolized us for centuries.
Even without the recent release of EVIL DEAD RISE, 2023 was going to be a huge year for the Evil Dead franchise. The Evil Dead – which premiered in Detroit, Michigan in 1981 – was widely released to the public in 1983, a whole forty years ago. Thirty years later and a decade ago, Fede Álvarez’s 2013 reboot premiered at South By Southwest Film Festival and saw its own wide release later that year. In honor of these landmark anniversaries in horror, and in celebration of the success of EVIL DEAD RISE, join me on a journey back in time to track the evolution of this beloved horror franchise, birthed from the zany mind of the incomparable Sam Raimi.
With seven new singles out since 2022, Calabasas native Baby Jane is taking the alternative music world by storm with her self-described industrial pop, which infuses electric pop-rock with occult imagery and dark lyrics that explore feelings of devotion, desperation, and self-destruction. Most recently, Baby Jane released her first single of 2023, “If the Devil Looked Like You” - a stand-out track for the mosh pit or the dancefloor. In honor of the song’s release, I had the unique pleasure of chatting with Baby Jane about her love of horror and her upcoming work for Rue Morgue.
2023 is off to a killer start for the horror film community. Already we've had a blockbuster (M3GAN dir. Gerard Johnstone), a sleeper hit (Skinamarink dir. Kyle Edward Ball), and a third feature from a certain legacy filmmaker (Infinity Pool dir. Brandon Cronenberg). In addition, I have had the unique pleasure of reviewing three new releases from indie filmmakers: The Outwaters, Attachment, and Consecration.
Attachment, in particular, was quite a stand-out - a queer love story and supernatural horror film sourced from Jewish folklore. Written and directed by first-time feature film director Gabriel Bier Gislason, and inspired by the life of lead actress Josephine Park, Attachment is a unique tale of possession and exorcism that departs from the Catholic script that has dominated the sub-genre for decades. Check out my recent work for Rue Morgue, here!
Experimental lo-fi horror sensation SKINAMARINK is sweeping the nation this weekend with its limited theatrical run courtesy of Shudder. Despite a few obvious jump scares, the creepy aesthetic, and the heavily suggested violence against young children, critics and viewers alike are left scratching their heads over what exactly makes the film so frightening. Largely plotless and riding on its undeniably unnerving premise, SKINAMARINK relies on the dark side of mid-90s nostalgia to create its eerily familiar mood.
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| Lucas Paul as Kevin in SKINAMARINK |
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| Cover of Ethel Cain's EP "Carpet Bed" |
The simple synopsis for SKINAMARINK reads as follows: “Two children wake up in the middle of the night to find their father is missing, and all the windows and doors in their home have vanished.” The premise manifests in a spectacularly creepy fashion. Furniture appears on the ceiling, toys cling to the walls, and a demonic voice leads the children to their doom. And in between the film’s more explicitly frightening sequences are countless shots of carpeted floors, wood-paneled walls, and the molding of doorways and baseboards.
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| SKINAMARINK |
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| Ethel Cain |
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| Cain |
There is an undeniable appeal to the nostalgia of a certain breed of middle-class Americans who grew up in the 90s and early 2000s. But not the warm and fuzzy nostalgia that makes you long for the carefree comfort of childhood. Oh no, this is the kind of repressed memory nightmare fuel that will make you remember sleepless nights and seeing the darkness around you form formidable shapes. SKINAMARINK conjures the fear only a child can have - a complete feeling of helplessness, and a desire for a parent’s protection.
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| SKINAMARINK |
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| Cain |
Also central to the visual language of SKINAMARINK is the horror that lies in images of everyday scenes or objects, stifled by a horrible sense of dread hanging overhead. In such uneasy circumstances, a lingering shot of a doll, crayon, lego, or Fisher Price Chatter Telephone can form a dark ball of fear in the pit of your stomach. The kinds of images used by the filmmakers of SKINAMARINK point to an ethos of finding horror in the most mundane settings - an instinct shared by multimodal artist and indie musician Ethel Cain.
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| Dali Rose Tetreault as Kaylee in SKINAMARINK |
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| "Preacher's Daughter" Album Cover |
Inspired by the Southern Gothic, true crime, and her religious upbringing, Cain’s music and storytelling paint a horrifying portrait of life in the American South for a young queer woman. Cain’s music and promotional images bring to life a world full of decay, abuse, desperation, and despair, primarily through the use of unsettling domestic imagery. Not unlike SKINAMARINK’s writer/director Kyle Edward Ball, Cain sees the inside of the home as a site of immense horror. The specter of a traumatic childhood haunts Cain’s fictional world as well as Ball’s.
While SKINAMARINK depicts the monochromatic and nearly-identical nature of new-build suburban homes, Cain’s world is a much more decrepit one, full of aging houses in a dead-end town. The home is an inescapable place for her characters, who are oppressed by religion, domestic abuse, and lack of means to escape. While most works that evoke nostalgic emotions make us wish to be children again, listening to Ethel Cain or watching SKINAMARINK will do the opposite. More likely, instead, is a deep gratitude to have made it out alive.
