Thursday Guilty Pleasure: Week Two

Well, kids, it's The Vault of Horror's third anniversary today--and what better way to celebrate than to regale you with my love for cheesy Japanese monsters and little boys in ridiculous shorts? That's right, it's time for another edition of Thursday Guilty Pleasure, brought to by yours truly and Missy Yearian of Chickapin Parish, the poor misguided soul who seems to derive joy from the nadir of Dario Argento's career. Read on...

Godzilla's Revenge (1968)

Speaking of nadirs, this happens to be, by everyone's estimation, the ultimate lowpoint of the entire classic Showa series of Godzilla films from Toho. To that I say, pshaw. That's right! Pshaw. Because Godzilla's Revenge--as you would know if you listened to my recent Vaultcast with Miguel Rodriguez--brings me, and has always brought me, a disproportionate amount of pleasure.

By the late 1960s, Toho had completely given in to the fact that the main fans of the Godzilla series were little children. And so, instead of trying to make truly excellent films like Ishiro Honda's original Gojira, they started cranking out blatant kiddie fare, created without any intention of being anything but fluff. But once you accept that this isn't Gojira...well, Godzilla's Revenge can be a whole lot of fun.

You've got the little boy Ichiro, who aroused more jealousy in me than any other cinematic boy aside from possibly Elliot in E.T. You see, Ichiro had a magical machine that could transport him to Monster Island to hang out Big G and the rest of the gang. OK, so he was only dreaming, but that didn't make it any less awesome to me. I wanted to be that boy, and I wanted to chill with Anguirus, Gorosaurus and the rest of the kaiju crew.

Then, of course, there's Minya. That's right, I was the world's biggest Minya fan. Godzilla's little son (although paternity was never incontrovertibly established) completely captured my imagination, with his Don Knotts-like voice and classic smoke-ring blowing abilities. Yes, he may be the most maligned member of the Japanese movie monster fraternity, but I'm not too much of a snob to admit I loved the goofy-looking guy--and somewhere, in my grown-up heart, I still do. So take that, purists!

Godzilla's Revenge is a whole lot fun--not to mention the perfect gateway Godzilla film for little kids. So let's all get off the high horse, kick back and enjoy it's silly goodness, shall we? After all, what better way to learn a lesson about how to deal with bullying than by watching Godzilla duke it out with something that looks like a cross between a giraffe and a cat?



And now, I toss it over to Ms. Yearian, and her Guilty Pleasure for this week...

Mother of Tears (2007)

There is something special about Italian horror, no? All of us genre fans have a little place in our heart for those crazy Italians—mostly Lucio Fulci and Dario Argento. They make what we like to call “style over substance” movies. Hell, I’ve never seen a Lucio Fulci movie make much sense. Argento, however, is somehow a master at this particular kind of filmmaking. His movies are generally among the most visually beautiful you’ll ever see (see Suspiria or Tenebre).

This is why I was so surprised to discover that he’d botched Mother of Tears so badly. Holy hell, is that movie a mess or what? I mean, the acting is abysmal. The visuals are absurd. The story makes no sense. It should be the greatest cinematic disappointment of the decade.

But for some reason, it just isn’t. Don’t get me wrong. This is one of the worst horror movies I have ever seen. It’s an absolute disaster. But I’ve got such a girl boner for it that I can hardly believe it. That’s right, folks. I love Mother of Tears.

What makes the movie such a treat is the absolute shamelessness with which Argento made it. From the beginning, wherein a woman is strangled with her own intestines, the film is an experiment in absurdity. If I were to give you a highlight reel, it would look like the worst films of the eighties (a decade Argento seems to still be stuck in). A good example of this is the monkey (is it really a monkey? A baboon? Who knows?) that chases Sarah all over Italy. One could also cite the people chasing her on the train, what with their decidedly Duran Duran hairdos and makeup stylings.

But the real treat of Mother of Tears is the titular witch. Sporting a big, bouncy hairdo and the glossiest red lips you’ve ever seen, she’s no more terrifying than your average glance at your family photo albums. Upon first seeing her, I thought, “What? This is the worst of the three mothers? But she’s so eighties!”

All right, all right, truth be told, when I first saw Mother of Tears, I thought it was awful. I thought it was the worst possible ending to a fantastic trilogy. But then I saw it again. And, I don’t know, folks. You’ve got to admire Argento’s moxy. He made one atrociously bad movie (and yes, a bad ending to the trilogy), but it’s sure got style, doesn’t it?



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Yes, you read correctly up there at the top. Today is the third birthday of The Vault of Horror--which began here, if you'd care to check out the very first, completely unimpressive post. So to just keep it brief, I'd like to thank everyone, both colleagues and readers alike, for supporting this blog and helping it grow into what it is today. I can assure you... you ain't seen nothing yet.

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VAULTCAST: Conversations in the Dark... w/Captain Cruella

The spot: A clandestine, undisclosed location on the New York/Connecticut border. The guest: Captain Cruella, Zombie Queen of the Carnivorous Cadavers. The cuisine: Confidential.

We're here to discuss a fascinating phenomenon in our popular culture: The rise of the zombie. Face it, our undead friends are everywhere, and the movies are just the beginning. They have infiltrated our world, metaphorically speaking. And on Saturday in Saugerties, New York, they will do so literally (well, heh, almost) thanks to Cruella's Village Invasion zombie crawl, which we also touch on (including The Vault of Horror's involvement in the event).

Listen in on all the ghoulish shenanigans on the embedded player below, or head over to the Vaultcast page and download it!



The Village Invasion website
The Captain on Twitter
Press release

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TRAILER TRASH: George Romero Edition!

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The Shadow of Samhain: Reverence for Death in the Old World and Beyond

Death. It is perhaps mankind's greatest source of fear. And it's been linked directly to Halloween since the very beginning. This time in The Shadow of Samhain, I bring you a guest post from the most excellent Christine Hadden of Fascination with Fear... Christine has put together this fascinating and very thought-provoking meditation on the many connections between the Halloween/Samhain season and our eternal obsession with death and the afterlife. I hope you enjoy it as much I did...

Halloween, previous to all the current retail obsession with candy, costumes and horror movies, was long known as Samhain, and still is. The traditions and established practices of modern day pagans and non-pagans alike have been culled from centuries of folklore and beliefs involving what happens to us after we die and how we choose to celebrate and remember those whom we have lost. Old world religions that pre-date Christianity are most certainly the basis for the second most popular holiday of the modern age. Death, in essence remembering those who have died, is the sole reason the holiday was revered so much in the first place. It is believed, even today, that Samhain is the one night in which the veil between the living and dead is the thinnest.

The Festival of the Dead is most widely recognized as a Mexican holiday which begins at midnight on November 1. It is a spiritual holiday which honors the dead with a great day of celebration. On November 2, El Dia de los Muertos begins (quite literally The Day of the Dead). Religious Christians label the day All Souls Day, but it has different meanings all over the world. People across the globe, with their various religions and beliefs, hold these two days sacred as a time to remember those we have lost.

While in Mexico many people believe that the dead truly do walk again come the first day of November, elsewhere others do their best to coax the dead from their silent graves, if only to see them perhaps at least once a year. Candles are placed in the windows to light the way for the dead to return, food and gifts are laid out to welcome them back to the realm of the living, ritual “dumb suppers” are held--meals ate completely in silence to honor the dead and hope that their deceased loved ones return for one night. Usually an extra place setting is laid out, as well as food, for the lost souls of the dead.

Old Gaelic traditions claim that all the souls in Purgatory are released on the evening of All Hallows Eve. They are supposedly free to walk amongst the living for two days but then are sent back to wherever it is they came from. And some traditions hold that if you hear footsteps behind you on Halloween night, you aren’t to turn around lest you will die if you look into their eyes. There is a magnitude of folklore and old tall tales surrounding the mystery of Samhain--enough that entire books have been written. Obviously there is much more curiosity about death and its connection to Halloween than many folks--particularly Christian bible-thumper types--will admit to.

In pagan religions, in particular some Wiccan traditions, it is believed that the Horned God (not Satan, but the male counterpart to Mother Nature, if you will) passes into the Land of the Dead on Samhain night, only to be reborn at Winter Solstice. (Hmm….sounds familiar, no?) Modern witches and pagans have great reverence for the last day of October, it being their most important holiday in the wheel of the year. Death itself is seen as only the beginning--as they believe in reincarnation. The cycle of life continues.

Though it may seem like Americans may balk at these worldwide beliefs and practices, think again. Americans have long had an undying hunger for more knowledge about death and other things we cannot understand. Take Houdini’s widow, for instance. Back in the mid-twenties, after his death, she held a séance every Halloween for ten years, hoping he would contact her from his otherworldly resting place. Alas, he did not. But it didn’t make anyone any less enamored with the belief that at some point, that veil would be thin enough for someone to break through.

Why else would tons of people flock to cemeteries or abandoned houses…just for a possible glimpse into the realm beyond? Our obsession with the after-life certainly hasn’t slowed down any in recent years, and shows no sign of stopping. But a reflection back on the reasons why the holiday of Samhain is so important would be a great way to start a celebration of Halloween.

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Celebrate Return of the Living Dead's 25th Anniversary at the Avon Theatre!

As loyal Vault dwellers, you might be aware that one of--if not the film that transformed me into a died-in-the-wool horror fanatic was the late Dan O'Bannon's masterpiece, The Return of the Living Dead. From when I first experienced it at age 12, I was enthralled by it, and the fascination has only increased with time. It's a fantastic horror comedy for so many reasons, but I've been through that many times before. The bottom line is, it's a film that means a whole lot to me (and no, not just because of Linnea Quigley as Trash...)

You may also be somewhat familiar with the vintagely fantastic Avon Theatre of Stamford, Connecticut, which I have occasionally big-upped on this very blog, whether it be to help spread the word about some really cool screenings they were having, or to report on a great time I had at one of those screenings. The Avon has a Cult Classics series, for example, that has long been a source of unmitigated joy in my life. And now, I'm proud to say that I'm going to be a part of the Avon's Cult Classics series, and in particular, they're upcoming showing of ROTLD. In short, it gets no better than this.

Basically, the Avon will be screening ROTLD on Thursday night, October 21, to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the film's release. It will also be showing alongside an unrevealed second feature. Now, I've been sworn to secrecy as to what it is--but rest assured, it will not disappoint. And I'm proud to say that both myself and the lovely Captain Cruella of the Carnivorous Cadavers will be hosting this screening. Now if that won't get you down to the theater, than dammit people, I don't know what will...

I'll have the privilege of introducing both films, and well, the good Captain will be providing zombie ambience as only she can. In fact, I can thank her and her mysterious undead powers for helping to finally get the Avon and the Vault together in the first place. This place is a local treasure, and it is literally a dream come true to be able to join in on the fun.

In addition to introducing one of the films crucial to my development as a horror fan, Cruella and I will also be giving away passes to one hell of a horror film festival on the horizon, the Hudson Horror Show. The festival's organizer, Chris Alo, will even be on hand to promote the event, lighting up Poughkeepsie, New York on November 6 (more on the Hudson Horror Show to come next week here in the Vault...)

So if you're in the area, I urge you to make your way to the Avon Theatre on October 21 for this screening of one of the most beloved horror films of them all. It is sure to be a blast. Not only that, but keep an eye out for future Cult Classics screenings at the Avon, as the theater's director of business development and film programming, Adam Birnbaum, has extended an invitation to yours truly to not only host more of the Avon's horror screenings, but to actually take part in their selection. So fasten your seat belts, Connecticut horror fans--things are about to get interesting...

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Thursday Guilty Pleasure: Week One

Because it simply wasn't argumentative enough, every Tuesday in October, to delve into the films we're too scared to watch twice, Missy Yearian of Chickapin Parish and myself are also joining forces throughout October to bring you Thursday Guilty Pleasures, in which we regale you with the movies that we know we're supposed to hate, but we unabashedly love, nevertheless. So buckle in and prepare to cringe, as we get it all off our chests. Be gentle, please...

Van Helsing (2004)

Wow, you're still reading? Yes, B-Sol of The Vault of Horror enjoyed the hell out of Stephen Sommers' gauche, gaudy Universal mashup starring Hugh Jackman as Gabriel "I'm too cool to be named Abraham" Van Helsing. Am I proud of that fact? No. But I'd be a fool to deny it.

Maybe it's the thrill of unleashing it on my kids, who had already been exposed to all the classic Universal monsters, and so got all the references. Maybe it was just the coolness factor of having all those classic monsters in one movie. But whatever it was, I would be lying if I didn't say that this loud confection of a horror/action flick held my attention, and then some.

I fully understand why people generally hated it--it's approach is in many ways completely anathema to the classic horror cinema it's trying to emulate; the camp factor is totally off the charts; the guy playing Dracula is pretty dreadful. Still, there were just enough old-school Universal references peppered without, and a certain respect for the lore of the classic monsters, that gave my inner horror geek a treat and a half.

I defy you to tell me, also, that this film doesn't feature one of the most faithful representations of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein Monster ever put on the screen. Say what you want about the rest of the painful hamminess going on in this flick, but Shuler Hensley is magnificent in a role which somehow seeks to translate the creature of the novel, while still giving a nod to the 1930s movie series. And I proudly admit to the childish grin that crossed my face when he shouted out "Friend!"

My only regret about seeing it is that Sommers' previous helming of The Mummy remake for Universal prevented everyone's favorite bandaged ancient Egyptian from making an appearance amongst his monstrous brethren. Van Helsing is a deeply flawed movie, and not at all what hardcore fans of classic monster cinema were hoping for, but I can't help but have a whole lot of fun with it.



And now, I yield the floor to Missy, and her first guilty pleasure of the month...

House of Wax (2005)

Look, I don’t have a good excuse for having seen this. I mean, it’s got everything working against it. It’s a remake (ew) and it stars Paris Hilton (double ew). And I really should have had the strength to say NO! But I didn’t. And as such, here we are staring down the barrel of week one, and I am about to admit a few shameful things to you.

Thing the First: I love The Simple Life. I own every season on DVD, and anytime I am feeling a little bit sad, I’ll pop them in (season two is my favorite) and a big ole stupid grin will spread across my face. I mean, really, if you let these entitled jerkwads into your lives, you deserve everything you get, right? Right?

It’s possible you’ve stopped reading now that you know this shameful secret. For those of you who are giving me the benefit of the doubt, let me explain why I tell you this. In watching five seasons of this show, I developed a keen understanding of Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie. Mostly, I discovered that Nicole is the smart (and devious) one and that Paris has no identity at all. Because of this lack of personality, I thought, “Gee. Maybe she’ll be like Brad Pitt.* And it will be like she’s this blank slate onto which any character can be painted! Maybe she’ll be the greatest actress of all time!” What can I say? I am like a child, and I have great, great optimism. And that’s why I went to see House of Wax.

I was definitely wrong about Paris Hilton.

Thing the Second: I effing loved House of Wax. I loved it way more than it deserves to be loved. I mean, like, if you had kids, and one of them was like The Changeling or something, and the other was House of Wax, you would totally love The Changeling more, right? Yeah, me too. Everyone knows parents don’t really love their kids “the same but in different ways.” House of Wax is totally the DJ Conner of the family. You can’t help but forget he exists when someone as awesome as Darlene is around. (Well, until the later seasons when you have to deal with Becky 2, and then all bets are off. Wait, what was I talking about?)

Thing the Third: That CGI ending with the titular house catching fire and the knife separating the wax babies is totally like the most awesome thing in the history of CGI. And I want to marry it every time I see it, which is a lot because I watch this movie a lot, and I guess that’s Thing the Fourth.

Thing the Fifth: I would probably stalk Elisha Cuthbert, but only after that crazy garage guy chops off the tip of her finger because that’s when you know she’s a badass, and that’s when I realize that House of Wax is actually awesome and totally fun and not something I should be ashamed of at all.

Wait…. What are we doing here?

* Please note that I do not actually like Brad Pitt, but I do believe he has put in some convincing performances, and I believe that is because he is a non-person, and as such, he can become anything.

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The Shadow of Samhain: Putting the Christ in... Halloween?

Welcome back, Halloween-heads, to The Shadow of Samhain series here in The Vault of Horror. This time, I bring you the first of a series of special guest posts. Joining us for the initial one is one of the most fascinating and well-rounded horror bloggers you're likely to ever encounter, John W. Morehead of Theofantastique.

John is an avid student of both speculative fiction, as well as religion in popular culture, and always manages to combine the two areas in a most captivating fashion. This piece is no exception either, as Mr. Morehead dives headlong into the love-hate relationship between Christianity and Halloween, and how it dates back to the conversion of what was, for centuries, a pagan holiday...

The month of October has finally arrived and soon it will conclude with Halloween. For those of us who are huge fans of the holiday it couldn’t have come sooner. In fact, I’ve been hitting various store locations looking for decorations and memorabilia since late August. It may come as a surprise to many, but Halloween is very popular in my Utah cultural context, and it is not uncommon to find a few Halloween items shortly after the Fourth of July in select stores.

But this time of the year also provides an opportunity to probe this fascinating holiday in a little more depth. It is the second largest retail sales holiday in the country, second only to Christmas, and it is usually either loved or demonized depending upon the understanding of its background, history, and symbolism. With this post I will bring some historical and cultural considerations to bear on the evolution and development of this mutating festival as it has worked its way through various cultures. One of the areas that I am interested in is how the holiday has been influenced by Christianity. It is not uncommon to find many Christians opposed to Halloween due to concerns over its pagan origins, and during this time of year the rhetoric against the holiday ratchets up, particularly among Protestant evangelicals and fundamentalists. But as I will touch on below, this has not always been the case as Christianity has embraced and influenced various elements that make up the history of Halloween in its diverse manifestations.

Halloween as we celebrate it in the modern period in the West is a popular derivative of All Hallow Even or the eve of All Saints’ Day celebrated on November 1 on the Christian calendar. It is celebrated together with All Souls’ Day on November 2. Its earliest origins, and those usually cited by Protestants, are found in the Celtic festival from Ireland of Samhain, pronounced “sow-in” and meaning “summer’s end.” It was a seasonal and agricultural festival associated with the transition from summer to fall. Concerned Protestants often claim that the Celtic festival was associated with animal or human sacrifice. Although this cannot be completely discounted since it appears that elements of this were featured in the festival as the Druids practiced it, the festival largely served as a festival of the dead (although not specifically), and as a time of supernatural intensity heralding the onset of winter. It was also a borderline festival that took place between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. Celtic lore discusses it as a boundary between summer and winter, light and darkness. Understood in this way it functioned as a “liminal” festival, a moment of ritual transition.

As significant as the pagan origins are to what we celebrate as Halloween, there are also Christian elements that have played a part. These come initially from Catholicism in the British Isles and elsewhere through its festive rites. This included ritual practices that were developed with the medieval holy days of All Souls’ and All Saints’ Day. It was an important part of Christian year, marked by high masses and prayers. These activities honored the saints and martyrs of the church, and affirmed the collective claims that the dead had on the living. Various church rituals included the ringing of bells, using flowers to decorate the houses of the dead, visits by family and friends to the dead, clergy processions to graveyards, and devotional offerings of holy water, milk or food at gravesides. Other developments during this period were also important in contributing to our contemporary Halloween, including the significance of All Saints’ and All Soul’s Day to children and young adults, and that it served as the season of masking and impersonation. Of course, these practices are reflected in Halloween as a time of costuming by children in our time.

As the festival continued its journey through cultures in history it arrived in England and it became connected to the time of Hallowtide. Hallowtide involved various fire rituals, including torchlight ceremonies to honor the dead. In addition to fire rituals, “souling” was an important practice. This involved taking bread or soul cakes that were distributed to relatives and poor neighbors who offered to pray for souls in purgatory.

Souling is important in understanding Halloween in that it involved individuals moving door to door asking for food in return for prayers for the dead (they used hollowed-out turnip lanterns with a candle for light), and it is the practice of souling that enabled this English Hallowmass practice to survive the effects of the Protestant Reformation.

It is at this juncture that Protestants would do well to engage in some self-reflection at this time of year. Although Hallowtide was practiced by the Roman Catholic Church, it came under attack in England with the Protestant Reformation. Protestants had concerns about the inclusion of purgatory in their celebration of dead saints, and they took exception to its ritualism. After the Reformation there was no common set of ritual practices that marked this seasonal event.

But given this slice of history, and the influence and participation of certain branches of Christendom in the development of what we know today as Halloween, it is curious that many Protestant evangelicals and fundamentalists find the holiday so objectionable. Here a little historical amnesia seems to be operative. As the historian Ronald Hutton has stated, for Protestants one of the arguments against Halloweeen is

"that it is essentially unchristian ... a Christian feast of the dead is thoroughly embedded in the history of Hallowe'en and that its legacy is usually impossible to distnguish from that of paganism in the practices and associations of the night. It is of course maintained by what is still by far the largest of the world's churches, the Roman Catholic. To describe the feast as fundamentally unchristian is therefore either ill-informed or disingenuous."

I keep hoping that one year Protestants might dig a little deeper on the history of this holiday, and that they might recognize the influence of their own religious tradition in its development. It would also be nice to see an embrace of a feast of the dead within Protestantism, but that might be asking too much. But that won’t stop some of us from enjoying this rich holiday whatever its origins and influences.

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Tuesday Too Scared to Watch It Twice: Week One

As if there isn't enough goodness already going on in the month of October, I'm excited to kick off a new series tonight that I'll be undertaking along with the stupendous Missy Yearian of Chickapin Parish. I've been invited by Missy to select, for each Tuesday of the month, a film that I've seen only once, and can't seem to bring myself to ever go near again (on Thursdays this month, we'll be selecting our "Guilty Pleasure" horror movies, so stay tuned for that, as well)...

Cannibal Holocaust (1985)

For me, the choice for the very first week was beyond easy. If you read the Vault regularly, you may be aware that a while back, I finally decided to check out Ruggero Deodato's Cannibal Holocaust for the very first time. Not only did I see it for the first time, but I actually live-tweeted the hellacious experience, and then even posted the transcript of that live-tweet right here. Talk about being a trooper--the things I do for you people!

Watching CH was, for me, an intensely odious experience which I would have no desire to ever revisit, if I should live 100 years. I enjoy a good old-fashioned disturbing horror flick as much as the next maniac, but this thing was just a different breed altogether. I felt like I needed to take a shower after seeing it, and in a lot of ways, it really has never left my psyche since. There are times I wish I could "unwatch" it, to tell you the truth. It was that disturbing.

I don't mean disturbing in a "Wow, isn't this so cool! We're being so rebellious and subversive by watching this!" kind of way. This was disturbing in the true sense of the word. I was upset at the very fact that the movie had been made. Particularly this was due to the graphic and very real animal torture and murder that occurs in the film, which had me on the verge of becoming sick, as a result of both physical and moral revulsion. The rape and torture that peppers the film is gratuitous in the worst way, and makes the viewer feel like something has been taken from him for having watched it. And then there's the sad, cynical attempt to sell me on some kind of important message being conveyed here about man's inhumanity to man. Spare me.

As I watched, I took turns getting angry, disgusted and depressed. Not exactly what I'd call an ideal viewing experience. Hell, if I wanted to go through that emotional range, I'd jump on the subway. I suppose in a way, one could argue that this makes it an effective film, by virtue of the fact that it provoked such a strong reaction. Normally, I'd agree, but in this case I make an exception. Because it's not really all that well-made or constructed; it just deals in gravely upsetting subject matter, making it easy to conjure those reactions. I might get strong emotional reactions watching 1940s concentration camp footage; this does not make the documentary I'm watching an effective film per se--it simply means I'm being shown some pretty messed up stuff.

I'm honestly not sure if I'm glad I at least put myself through the experience of watching it once, or if I regret ever doing that to my brain. In any event, one thing I am totally sure of is that I will never be watching Cannibal Holocaust again.



And now, Ms. Yearian's pick for Week 1 of Tuesday Too Scared to Watch It Twice...

Irreversible (2002)

First a confession: I have not seen all of Irreversible. I will never see all of this film. It was—to be reductive—upsetting. I have never seen a film that had as visceral an effect on me as Irreversible. It’s a film I would never recommend, and in fact, I often actively discourage people from seeing it. What is it, you ask? Why it’s only a bunch of sensationalism wrapped in a pseudo-art package.

Irreversible is a rape revenge film played in reverse. The beautiful Alex is brutally raped and beaten in a Paris underpass, and her boyfriend and ex-lover enlist the help of criminals to help them find the perpetrator to exact revenge.

Yes, it seems rather par for the course for a rape revenge film, but what this film lacks in originality, it makes up for in brutality. Watching this film is like doing a tour of ‘Nam. From the fire extinguisher face-bashing to the anal rape scene, this film is the very definition of “too much.” While it pretends to be an art film with the content of a Grindhouse film, it’s really a series of visual assaults pretending to contain a message.

One walks away from Irreversible feeling… well, feeling traumatized. In fact, after walking out during a particularly awful scene, I got into my Chevy Corsica (her name was Ellie) and drove in the wrong direction on the interstate for a solid hour before realizing what I’d done and finally turning around and heading back from Boone’s Lick, Missouri.

While I think the film is an overrated mess, there’s at least one thing I can say for it. It had a stronger effect on me that any other film I’d seen. And yes, I know it supposedly got better as the film went on, but I’d seen enough. I don’t need to see the rest of the film to understand the horror of the film’s events. Hell, I didn’t need the first third of the movie either. But one thing’s for sure, the film managed to shake me, and I’ve never seen another like it.

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Random Ramblings from the Vault...

• AMC seems to be ramping up the hype machine for The Walking Dead, and I'm getting more jazzed with each passing day. All the footage has been stellar so far, and I get more excited with each commercial they jam in during my weekly dose of Mad Men. I'll also admit to obsessively watching and re-watching the trailer on AMC On Demand. OK, Mr. Darabont, you have my attention.

• My heart is warmed at the generally positive reactions to Matt Reeves' Let Me In that seem to be pouring in. Alas, I did not see it over the weekend, opting instead for The Social Network (and did not regret it one iota, by the way--this one's Oscar material, folks.) But I shall most likely be checking out the American remake of my favorite Swedish vampire film later this week. Unfortunately, it seems to have not done too well at the box office, but such is the fate of most R-rated horror films, especially those which are hard to categorize, as well as somewhat unique and thought-provoking.

• How about that Case 39? Never thought I'd see Renee Zellwegger returning to the horror genre after vigorously trying to bury Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation some 15+ years ago when her career was just taking off. Amazing what a few Leatherheads and Appaloosas will do to one's priorities.

• So Hatchet II is out as well now. No thanks. Fool me once, shame on you...

• Thus far, "Hammer Time" on Turner Classic Movies has been marvelous, with last Friday devoted entirely to Hammer's Dracula series. The main thing I learned watching Horror of Dracula, Brides of Dracula, Dracula: Prince of Darkness and Dracula Has Risen from the Grave? Cushing's Van Helsing is one hell of a snappy dresser. I particularly love the fur-lapelled jacket and Oktoberfest-style fedora. Anthony Hopkins and Hugh Jackman take note.

• Am I the only one who has a really hard time eating those "gummy body part" candies that are everywhere around Halloween time? I mean, I love gummy candies as much as the next guy--hell, I was toilet-trained using gum drops as a reward, it's kind of ingrained--but those gummy eyeballs, fingers and whatnot? Just really skeeve me out.

• Fellow Godzillaphile Miguel Rodriguez of the Monster Island Podcast has been kind enough to share this breathtaking video with me, which I am now passing along. I don't know how I missed this slice of fried gold, but it's a 2009 TV commercial reuniting all three of General Mills' classic cereal monsters. Whoever is doing Frankenberry's voice does one hell of a Karloff...

• Speaking of Mr. Rodriguez, I'd like to point you in the direction of his aforementioned podcast, which this week features none other than Captain Cruella of the Carnivorous Cadavers as a guest. The good Captain also happens to be my next guest on Conversations in the Dark, which you can look for next week, leading up to the Village Invasion zombie crawl in Saugerties, New York on October 16. Cruella and I will be discussing not only the Crawl, but the whole bizarre phenomenon of zombies in pop culture...

• I recently had the distinct pleasure of coming across what has to be the finest independent genre website I've seen in quite some time. It's called The Cultural Gutter, and I advise any and all intelligent fans of horror, science fiction, comics, and all other forms of "artistic pursuits generally considered to be beneath consideration" to check it out. This is that rarest of the rare: A smart, critically minded genre site genuinely devoted to spirited debate and discourse. From their manifesto:

While the writers have considerable enthusiasm for their subjects, they don't let it numb their critical faculties. Tossing away the shield of journalistic objectivity and refusing the shovel of fannish boosterism, they write in the hopes of starting honest and intelligent discussions about these oft-enjoyed but rarely examined artforms.

Count me in!

• Although it seems hard to fathom, The Vault of Horror's earth-shaking third anniversary fast approaches, and if you follow our Facebook page, then you know there's a little contest afoot. If not, go here and get acquainted. I've posted a picture of my horror DVD collection there, and whoever can identify the most DVDs in the picture will be able to select any DVD included therein to become his/her very own. I've got neat prizes for second and third place as well, so check it out. E-mail your list to b-sol @ thevaultofhorror.net by October 13 to be eligible (private emails only, please). Full details are at the FB page, but here's the pic again for good measure:

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The Shadow of Samhain: Dark Reign of the Fomorians

October is finally upon us, and I, for one couldn't be happier. But you'd expect that of me, wouldn't you--being the curator of The Vault of Horror, and all. In recognition of the month that brings us Halloween, the horror highlight of the calendar, I'm bringing you a special series that will explore the very heart of the holiday by taking a look at its distant history. You won't find anything here about Ben Cooper costumes or the Great Pumpkin, as awesome as those things may be. Rather, The Shadow of Samhain will be all about the pre-modern folklore, superstitions and traditions that have helped shape All Hallows Eve into what it is today.

Look for a series of special guest posts over the course of the next four weeks--but for now, I'll be starting things off myself with a look at an ancient legend that has long fascinated me...


From the oceans off Northern Africa they came--a twisted and evil race of sea-faring demons whose origins are lost to the mists of time. In Celtic lore, they were believed to have been the first settlers of the Emerald Isle of Ireland, and they ruled it once with cruel fists of iron. They were the Fomoire, or Fomorians; and their story is tied in directly with the Celtic festival of Samhain, precursor to Halloween. In fact, it can be argued that the linking of Halloween with all things frightening may actually find its origin in this terrible and horrifying race of monsters.

A breed of malformed and misshapen atrocities whose existence was believed to have far predated that of man himself, the Fomorians were a bizarre mix of human, animal and otherwise unnatural elements. They were varied in appearance. Some might possess the head of a horse and the body of a man, for example; others might appear to be giant fish with legs to walk on land with; some boasted a multitude limbs or eyes, while others might have only one of each; and still others might actually appear beautiful to the human eye, although their souls were just as black as those of their uglier brethren.

They were a warlike species--an inspiration, in some respects, for the race of orcs found in the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien--and legend had it that any people attempting to settle in Ireland were forced to contend with them and their bloodthirsty ways. The first to try were a group called the Partholons, who met their ghastly end when the Fomorians unleashed a deadly plague upon them. Next were the Nemeds, a tribe which found itself immediately enslaved by the monstrous masters of Ireland.

The connection of the Fomorians to Samhain begins here, as it was believed that each year on this day, October 31, the Fomorians demanded their annual tribute from the Nemedian people living amongst them. This tribute would typically include not only cattle but also small children, sacrificed to keep the Fomorian demons at bay. Thus, the practice of animal and human sacrifice many believe was once part of Celtic Samhain ritual was in part a commemoration of the days when the Fomorians came around to collect their yearly payment and satisfy their bottomless bloodlust.

The age of the Fomorians in Ireland was an evil time looked back on with dread. It lasted many generations, but at last approached its end with the arrival on the island of another race of beings, not quite as ancient as the Fomorians, but still older than humanity. They were the Tuatha Dé Dannan, a beautiful clan of god-like beings who wielded powerful magic, and whose coming was reportedly heralded by a mysterious fog that blanketed Ireland for days. Much as the Fomorians seem to have played a part in Tolkien's imaginings, so too did the Tuatha, resembling nothing so much as the majestic Elvish race described in the author's writings.

The Tuatha managed to co-exist with the Fomorians for a time, dividing the land amongst them, and even intermarrying with the ghastly creatures on occasion in order to further diplomatic relations between the two groups. Nevertheless, all this was a ploy, as the Tuatha awaited the opportunity to rid the land of the tyranny of their demonic neighbors.

This opportunity came in the form of one Lugh of the Long Hand, grandson of the hideous cyclops Fomorian chieftain, Balor of the Strong Blows. The result of a union between a comely Fomorian and a Tuatha, Lugh was beautiful in appearance, and discarded upon birth by Balor, who believed the child a threat (a common trope in ancient folklore). Taken in by the Tuatha, Lugh grew to become their savior.

The routing of the Fomorians from Ireland came on the day when Balor's detachment of tribute gatherers appeared at the castle of the Tuatha, demanding their unspeakable payments of cattle and children. Lugh butchered the Fomorians where they stood, leaving only a handful to skulk back to Balor's tower stronghold, located on a small island off the northwest coast, to tell the tale. Enraged, Balor mustered his Fomorian armies to make war against the mighty legions of the Tuatha, led by his own grandson.

That would be the final Samhain on which the Fomorians would ever lay claim to any Irish land. On the plain at Mag Tured, in the Connacht region of Ireland, the Fomorians and the Tuatha De Dannan waged a fierce, epic battle. The demons took an early advantage, slaying many of the proud Tuatha, until Lugh slaughtered his grandfather in one-on-one combat. Leaderless, the Fomorians fled, and were completely wiped out by the Tuatha, save for a mere four of them, forced to take refuge in Balor's tower.

Ireland had at last been freed from the yoke of these unspeakable creatures, and on the very feast day of Samhain on which they had wreaked their worst yearly terrors upon the land. The remaining four would stay far off the coast in Balor's stronghold--bizarre, ancient curiosities to be avoided by any sailing those waters; a lurking remnant of the fearsome hordes that had once ruled Ireland without mercy. The Tuatha would come to rule from then on, and after they eventually vanished into obscurity and legend, man would at last come to live on the land once fought for by gods and demons.

Among the Celts, and particularly the Gaels who would come to dominate Ireland in the Iron Age, the harvest festival of Samhain was associated always with the Fomorians. Whatever its origin in reality, whether inspired by some tyrannical human tribe, or fabricated completely out of thin air, the legend of the Fomorians loomed large over Gaelic culture. The horrifying tribute collected each year; the bloody battle of Mag Tured--Samhain was an annual reminder of these things. Perhaps then, despite the many positive aspects of the festival, this was why there was also such an element of deep-seated terror attached to it. A "race memory", if you will, of events that existed only in the realm of folklore. Or did they?


Photo Credits
The Fomors by John Duncan, 1912
The Fomorii by Andrew L. Paciorek
Daghda by A. Fantalov, 1998
Lugh by Mickie Mueller
Combat of Balor and Lugh Lamfada by Miranda Gray, 1995
Fomorian by Rowena Morrill

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