Death Makes Strangers of Us All

This collection from The Swan River Press contains ten well-crafted stories by R. B. Russell, better known to many of us as Ray Russell, co-founder of Tartarus Press. The tales here qualify as weird, strange, sometimes ghostly, and occasionally horrific. They are hard to classify in more specific terms, but all offer a perspective on our mortal condition.

The first story, 'Night Porter', concerns a young woman in need of a job who accepts a post at a somewhat dodgy hotel. Marianne is disturbed by a strange client, Miss Fisher, who is in the habit of renting a room for herself and various drunken men. Odd things happen, terrible stains are found, an old man with a hypodermic needle appears briefly. Marianne's position as an apparently innocent observer is somewhat subverted by the ending, which suggests that she is in fact involved in something deeply wrong.

'At the End of the World' is the first-person narrative of a man with a wayward brother called Paul. Paul has led a nomadic and often dangerous life, dabbling in drugs, travelling widely, never staying anywhere for long. Finally his brother finds him living in a old railway carriage, wintering at a bleak seaside town. Paul, it transpires, has had a good reason to keep moving, but has run out of options. A strange force is on his trail, in a story slightly reminiscent of Bradbury's 'The Wind'.

'Brighthelmstone' is one of those stories that taught me a fact - the title is the original name of Brighton. This is a relatively slight tale of a boyhood incident in the resort, and is very evocative of seaside holidays a couple of generations ago. It has a Ruth Rendell twist, in which a terrible event comes almost out of nowhere, and is then finessed into the fabric of the narrator's life.

'The Fall of the House of Usher' read by Basil Rathbone

A bit of old school Gothic for the dark, strange time between Christmas and New Year.

Reviews

I have a big backlog of books I hope to review at some point in 2018. Please, publishers and authors, don't send me any more. I have less free time to read than before, and I don't think I could really do justice to new fiction until things settle down a bit.

The Dead Room

Spoiler alert, darling!



'The Dead Room', Mark Gatiss' first original TV ghost story for Christmas, deserves to be the first of many. Yes, I would love to see more M.R. James adaptations. I would love to see an anthology of classic tales, with dramas based on works by Benson, Burrage, Le Fanu, Wakefield, all the usual suspects. But, as the nearest writer we have to a modern Nigel Kneale, I feel Gatiss should be given the freedom to create new stuff, while nodding respectfully to the Old Guard. Because 'The Dead Room' offered the best of both worlds - a new, modern ghostly tale that has the structure and feel of a classic.

The BBC clearly threw the usual handful of loose change at the production, as it traditionally does with horror and suchlike, but this was turned to excellent effect. Everything took place in a few rooms, an old radio studio where Simon Callow's fruity luvvie, Aubrey Judd, is recording a distressingly modern ghost story. His contempt for a tale in which the ghosts are linked to video games - 'Ready Player Death!'- prompts discussion with his producer Tara, played by Anjii Mohindra. Perhaps it's the nerd in me, but simply hearing Callow say 'The Wendigo' on national television feels like a victory for the good guys.

"Smee" by A.M. Burrage

A nice little tale for Christmas.

By the way, don't forget to vote for your favourite story in issue 39.

Nigel Kneale - Murrain

A bit of that ol' Seventies British folk horror. By the way, don't forget to vote for your favourite story in issue 39.

Sixty years ago today...

... that the first episode of Nigel Kneale's greatest sci-fi horror serial was broadcast. In those days the BBC certainly didn't balk at spooky, cutting edge stuff over Christmas.

If you haven't seen it, the TV version has everything - folk horror, psychic powers, aliens, militarism, media nonsense, and plucky heroics. The Hammer film adaptation is almost as good, certainly first-rate as British horror movies go.

The sound effects were amazing, too. Well before the famous Radiophonic Workshop, the BBC basically had a couple of blokes mucking about with sound equipment. And they came up with this.

Mister Antiquary

The work of writer Lawrence Miles.

The Reformation of St. Jules (1949) | BFI National Archive

'The Whistling Room' - an early TV adaptation!

William Hope Hodgson on the telly? Apparently. A bit of fun, not great but an interesting curiosity.

M.R. James - Oh Whistle and I'll Come to You - Classic radio adaptation,...

Neat version, old-school radio. Professor Parkins gets the wind up at a surplice, then explains why.

By the way, don't forget to vote for your favourite story in issue 39.

The Green Book!

So it was in the morning of the world that a certain person received his complementary copies of a magnificent Swan River Press periodical. And Lo! He was much impressed by it all. For, as was not foretold, or if it was he forgot, it turned out that his piece on Conor McPherson was in it. And upon re-reading it, David of the Ill-Cleaned Spectacles found it quite informative, as he had long since forgotten most of the stuff in it.

The Green Book is replete with information about Irish Gothic/supernatural/fantasy writers. These range from C.S. Lewis to Louis MacNeice - quite a spread. As you would expect with Brian Showers at the editorial helm, these are concise, detailed, and entertaining. And, something I always look for in any scholarly work, there are pieces on writers I know nothing about, but clearly should.

It's still Poll Time!

Go here to vote for your favourite story/stories in Supernatural Tales #39.

As of today (12th Dec) only nine readers have voted. Perhaps only nine people have read the magazine? Maybe they're all caught up in the Christmas rush. But whatever the reason, I hope more people avail themselves of this opportunity to encourage writers. 

Believe me, writers appreciate it when you appreciate them. 

Joan is too busy to vote at the moment. What's your excuse?

The Judderman

'Not the Immortal Count You're Thinking Of'

Over at the Tor.com site two Lovercraft enthusiasts have been looking at writers who influenced Howie. Monty James naturally comes up, and there's an interesting article on 'Count Magnus' - the only MRJ story with a tentacle. After a detailed synopsis of the story the authors look at the ways MRJ impressed Lovecraft (tentacle) and the ways in which the authors differ. Much of the appeal of the story, of course, lies in the motive for the count's behaviour. Unlike Lovecraft, Monty James offered a nightmarish approach where what happens is far more important than the whys and wherefores. Of Count Magnus:

He’s a voyeur and hence perhaps a connoisseur of fear and agony, living on the rich (final) emotions and sensations of his victims, just like in the good old days when he used to execute ungrateful peasants and whip his tenants. But what are his laws of existence? What’s with the padlocks–three because of the time-honored trope of summoning evil by calling or wishing for it three times? Great meat for speculation there.

An entertaining read, offering two different perspectives on a much-anthologised story.

Apologies...

For the dearth of posts on this here blog. A family crisis has been taking up much of my time and lesser matters have been neglected.

I would also like to apologise to publishers who have sent me review copies in recent weeks. I am unlikely to get round to any more reviews for a while. Sorry, events beyond my control and all that.

Let me just mention two books on my 'to review' pile.

Secret Europe from Tartarus Press is a new themed collection by Mark Valentine and John Howard.

'... an astonishing work of fiction that effortlessly displaces the world we know with the world created on the pages we read. By virtue of strong, character-based storytelling, subtle prose and genuinely inventive strangeness, Valentine and Howard create a version of Europe that is not ours, but partakes of that which we know in such a manner as to be more powerful than what is real.' Rick Kleffel, The Agony Column

Also on the bedside pile is Charles Wilkinson's Splendid in Ash from Egaeus Press. This is a lovely collector's item, splendidly produced, and featuring not one but two stories that first appeared in ST.



Charles' previous collection A Twist in the Eye was reviewed by yours truly. If this new book is as good as the last one, it is well worth your attention.

Joss Ackland Reads Some Ghost Stories

The British actor Joss Ackland has been a favourite of mine for many years. He has a rich, sonorous voice well-suited to short story readings, and handles eerie material well. At the moment, over at the BBC iPlayer, you can hear a series of 'Ghost Stories' Ackland recorded in 1986. The selection is interesting, because it is strongly biased toward modern (by Eighties standards) writers, using a broad definition of the genre.

The oldest story is 'Midnight Express' by Alfred Noyes, which first appeared in 1935. (Noyes is an interesting character in his own right, not least for his role in the scandal over Roger Casement's diaries.) The other stories I've heard thus far are Ray Bradbury's 'The Crowd', 'Laura' by Robert Aickman, and 'A Little Place Off the Edgeware Road' by Graham Greene. Coming up this weekend is 'The Tower' by Marghanita Laski.

All are post-war stories, and all stretch the definition of ghost story. Greene's is arguably the most conventional, while in Laski's story there is no actual ghost as such. 'Midnight Express' is different again, with its eerie illustrated book that haunts the protagonist's dreams. All in all, it's a fine selection, with stories good enough to deserve wider exposure, but not over-familiar. They are of course abridged to fit a narrow, 15 minute slot, but again I think this was handled sensitively. 'Laura', for instance, does not suffer from a little trimming.

So, if you want a bedtime listen, give them a try.

Don't forget to vote!

Please, if you can, vote for your favourite story/stories in ST #39. It may not seem like much, but it gives a tremendous boost to the authors to know that people care about their work. 

Also, the winner of the online poll gets the almost unimaginable sum of £25. It's not much, but it's obviously better than a poke in the eye or similar. 

So please, go here and vote. 

And if you have yet to actually buy the magazine, you can go here to find links to sites that will sell it to you!

Emmeline Pankhurst - keen on voting

'The Golden Hour'

The final story in Uncertainties III is by Rosanne Rabinowitz. The golden hour is that time around dawn when the quality of light erases imperfections and 'infuses shabbiness with beauty'.

Set in London, the story concerns friendship, time, and the possibility of eternity that the golden hour hints at. The narrator sees a tower block radiating golden light. This triggers her search for Sheila, a photographer with whom she once collaborated on a book of photographs. Sheila became obsessed with light, with mirrors, with the idea of escaping into the golden hour forever.

The story is strange, and rather wonderful, but it is rooted in the sheer oddness of friendship - how people come together, how they drift apart. Friendship is more mysterious than love, in some respects, and the author explores this mystery while conjuring up a London as numinous as anything in Machen. The end of the story is a reunion and a revelation. There is no horror here, but an undeniable sense of wonder.

And thus we come to an end of an excellent anthology. Other reviewers have already said it, but it bears repeating - there are no duds in this one, only good to excellent stories. All credit to the authors, of course, but also to Lynda E. Rucker for curating an anthology that not only has something for everyone, but seems to partake of every strand one finds in the weird genre.

Nicolas Roeg 1928-2018

'Ashes to Ashes'

Scott West's story in Uncertainties III proves to be eerily timely. It is set in a town that has been largely abandoned due to wildfires. The protagonist, Ben, has stayed behind, despite intense heat and smoke-filled air. Ash rains down as he goes about what at first seems to be a bit of looting and general survivalism. But then it emerges that Ben has some urgent work to do.

Spoilers ahead, be warned.

A town about to be engulfed by flames seems an ideal place to hide the body of a murder victim. But Ben is determined to give the woman he killed a proper burial, so he trundles her corpse through the ash-rain to the cemetery, where he has prepared a casket. Much of the story consists of the detailed description of how the murderer goes about his task. It is, in a way, a reversal of the old trope of the killer being unable to dispose of the body. Here disposal is trivially easy - where better to hide a corpse than in a burning town?

Ben is, arguably, another prime example of toxic masculinity, performing in a 'decent' way after killing a woman. As he completes the burial the flames close in, bringing a retribution he expects, deserves, and welcomes.

'TallDarkAnd'

Here we have another story from the excellent anthology Uncertainties III, edited by Lynda E. Rucker. The authors, Julia Rust and David Surface, take as their starting point a classic fictional setup. Eleanor is a (possibly) unattractive young woman whose roommate Rebecca is sexy and glamorous. The names, I suspect, were not chosen at random. Eleanor Lance from The Haunting of Hill House and the first chatelaine of Manderley are present in spirit, I think.

One day Eleanor sneakily takes a look at the dating site Rebecca has been using, via Rebecca's laptop. Able to pose as someone else, Rebecca gets a tremendous thrill and starts to converse with various suitors. When Rebecca returns, Eleanor waits for discovery and the inevitable meltdown. But it seems she has gotten away with splashing around in Rebecca's dating pool.

Eleanor takes to using the laptop to engage in what are romantic but also disturbing, slightly off-kilter online discussions. One guy, using the name TallDarkAnd, tells her she is lovely, desirable. Eleanor, who had a hare lip corrected relatively late in childhood, is convinced her scar makes her repulsive. Or is she? When Rebecca suggests Eleanor create her own online dating profile, she agrees. Soon Eleanor is addicted to weird digital flirting, but then comes a revelation that changes everything.

Another excellent story, shifting from a claustrophobic tale of unequal friendship to something very different.

Poll Time!

Best Story in Issue 39?

'A Tiny Mirror' - Eloise C.C. Shepherd

'A Family Affair' - Margaret Karmazin

'Burnt Heart, Bound Feet' - Danielle Davis

'Like the Absence...' - Chloe N. Clark

'The Moor' - Rosalie Parker

'By the Hungry Sea' - Carrie Vaccaro Nelkin

'The Figure in the Scene' - Jon Barron

Created with QuizMaker

Issue 39 now available

Go here for the print-on-demand issue.

New stories by Eloise C.C. Shepherd, Carrie Vaccaro Nelkin, Margaret Karmazin, Jon Barron, Chloe N.Clark, Rosalie Parker, and Danielle Davis. Cover photo by Sam Dawson.

'The Woman in the Moon'

Tracy Fahey's story in Uncertainties III is a poetic, powerful account of what may be a mental breakdown. Certainly the final lines imply that the female narrator has suffered so much, lost so much, that she has been driven to extreme measures. But along the way the story is beautifully told, blending various ideas about the power of moonlight with a poignant account of very human loss.

I continue to be impressed by the sheer diversity of the stories Lynda E. Rucker has selected. Here is a tale that might be classed as fantasy, horror, or even 'straight' crime. But what makes it work is that it's a good story regardless of genre, packing a lot of effective imagery into a handful of pages. Every paragraph seems shot through with the colourless light of the moon, haunting and strange.

More from this anthology soon, I hope.

'It Could Be Cancer'

"Sorry about your balls."

Not a line you will find in the works of Montague Rhodes James, but pithy and effective.

Ralph Robert Moore's contribution to Uncertainties III is a remarkable story of what's sometimes termed the crisis of masculinity. It begins with Philip, a regular guy, taking a piss and discovering a lump on the side of one ball. This leads indirectly to him punching a housemate in the face, having to move out and live alone, and then encountering his dead daughter.

The nameless little girl, who offers some adult insights with a suitably grow-up vocabulary, cheers up Philip with a silly dance - her version of the Twist. Philip does not question her presence, perhaps because he is already punch-drunk from his cancer scare. Instead he talks to her, and listens to her.

This is obviously not a conventional ghost story. I have no real idea about the nature of the little girl who enlivens Philip's bleak and troubled existence, except that only he can see her. It does not really matter if she is 'there' in some sense beyond the obvious. But her help seems to make a difference, as Philip starts dating a co-worker, applies for promotion, and seems to on track to a better life.

As you might expect, this is not a cheerful story with a Disney 'ghost girl helps unhappy man' vibe. Far from it. The ending is a punch in the gut. I 'm not sure I understand this story, but artistically it works well. Perhaps that's what matters.

More on this impressive anthology soon.

Older than Dracula?

Over at The Conversation is an interesting item on English vampires. Or, more precisely, genuine folk belief (with some official endorsement) in the undead. As we know, however, when people claim that 'vampires' exist anywhere, definitions become a bit baggy.

The author, literature lecturer Sam George, draws the usual link between Byron and Polidori's story 'The Vampyre'. What she does not say, unfortunately, is that this led to a string of imitative penny dreadful vampire storie, often published anonymously (as Polidori's story was, originally). Among these tales was ''Varney the Vampire: or, The Feast of Blood', serialised 1845-7. 

In 1894 Augustus Hare published an account of a supposedly real vampire occurrence. The Vampire of Croglin Grange is cited in the Conversation piece, though the dates seem to differ with other accounts. And, as people have pointed out, it does read like a pastiche of earlier vampire fictions, particularly a scene in which the vampire picks the glass from a window pane to access his victim's home. Varney did exactly the same thing.

Both Varney and the Croglin Vampire stories mention a vampire forcing their way into a heroine’s bedroom by removing a small pane of glass. The vampires each release the catches on the door and wrap the girls hair around their bony fingers. Then the vampires tilt the girls neck, plunge their teeth into her; a gush of blood and a sucking noise follows.

I think George is on firmer ground with the Buckinghamshire 'vampire' that was suppressed by a saint, no less. St Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, was told the corpse in question should be dug up and burned. Instead he laid an absolution on the un-decayed corpse, which was put to rest. These medieval legends concerning saints are not remotely reliable, of course, but it's interesting to see that there was a tradition of the dead walking and praying on the living in the 12th century.

I also like the story of the Cumbrian village of Renwick, supposedly terrified by a bat-like monster that emerged from the foundations of a church at some point in the remote past. People of Renwick became known as 'Bats'. There was even a punk band called the Renwick Bats. Even more suggestive is the sheer number of broken and burnt human remains found in the deserted Yorkshire village of Wharram Percy. Some think they are evidence of cannabilism, others suggest that around 100 bodies were mutilated to stop the dead from rising.

I suppose what all this proves is that the Dracula story crystallised fictional character and folk beliefs into a very commercial form of vampire, complete with suitably exotic folklore. This eclipsed the kind of the folklore that helped inspire M.R. James, whose ghosts often seem to be radically modified versions of the deceased. The 'ghosts' in 'The Mezzotint', 'Wailing Well', 'Martin's Close' and other stories are not ethereal enough to be conventional Victorian spooks. Like Dracula, they give a bit more substance to supernatural menace.

'Voices in the Night'

Veteran sf and horror writer Lisa Tuttle's contribution to Uncertainties III is an interesting blend of old and new. The migrant experience, the sense of being alone in an uncaring society, is combined with an ancient myth known to most of us.

Katya is an immigrant who comes to an unnamed city seeking work. She finds it hard to get a place to stay, and settles for a room in a shabby hotel in a run-down area. Her sleep is interrupted by loud voices nearby, not in her building, but apparently emanating from a disused factory. At first she thinks it is a party, but there is no music. She investigates, and finds that the factory yard seems to be a gathering point for a disparate group of rather odd people.

As the story unfolds it becomes clear (to some extent) what is happening. What makes it enjoyable is the way that Katya, like many a protagonist before her, is gradually drawn into an ever-stranger situation. Soon she finds herself at the river, where boats call for the wandering strangers. The ghosts (if they are ghosts) are poignant and tragic because they do not speak to one another, merely emit futile, incomprehensible monologues. Katya's efforts to help one of these lost souls proves her undoing. The ending finally reveals just where the boats must be headed.

A dark tale, for a dark time of year. More from this running review soon.

Dead of Night (1945)

The last of my Hallowe'en fuelled nostalgia binge is the first horror movie made in Britain after World War 2. What's more, it was made by Ealing Studios, now renowned for its classic comedies of the Fifties. Dead of Night, however, has only one overtly comedic episode, and the overall tone of the film shifts from light to darkness.



One of the most influential anthology/portmanteau horror films, Dead of Night consists of four weird tales linked by a framing story. Architect Walter Craig, played by Mervyn Johns, travels down to a country house he has never seen - except in a recurring nightmare. The guests at the house are also people from the dream, which he tells them ends in violence and terror.

One of the guests is a psychiatrist, Dr. Van Straaten (Frederick Valk) who naturally rationalises away Craig's fears. But the other members of the house party object, each one telling a tale of the supernatural. Each segment has a different director and is adapted from works by well-known writers, among them E.F. Benson and H.G. Wells. It is a bit old-fashioned and ropey at times, not least when Sally Ann Howes deploys an RP accent that might cut glass, but it moves along quite briskly. None of the segments outstay their welcome and there is a refreshing contrast of themes and styles.

'Before I Walked Away'

The shortest story in Uncertainties III edited by Lynda E. Rucker (Swan River Press) is by R.S. Knightley.

'Before I Walked Away' is a poetic, powerful vignette, written in the first person. It's star is Kat, a student in a black negligee and fishnets, and brandishing a whip. The narrator, Helen, is arguably in love with Kat, but something is wrong with this relationship. They are close, but between them falls a shadow. A silly argument has apparently led to tragic consequences. But for whom?

This story packs a lot into a few pages. As a ghost story, I think it works. As a story that might not involve a ghost, it's just as effective. As a portrait of youth, love, and loss, it is painfully good.

The Haunting (1963)

I was disappointed by the recent Netflix adaptation of Shirley Jackson's novel, for many reasons.* But fortunately we have Robert Wise's excellent black and white film to show what a real adaptation looks like.



It's a remarkable variation on the traditional Gothic themes. All of the characters are not-quite-stereotypes of figures familiar from the works of Le Fanu, Wilkie Collins and others. Eleanor Lance is the timid, virginal young woman lured to the sinister house - but she wants to go. Doctor Markway is the suave, intellectual older man who manipulates events - but he is a decent man who wants to protect Eleanor. Theo is the clever, attractive woman who often serves as sidekick/mistress to the villain - but she too has essentially good motives. Luke is the handsome young heir who might rescue the heroine - but has no interest in doing so and is quite ineffectual.

The absence of visible ghosts - they are always audible or tactile - also has a Victorian feel. In some novels the ghosts would be contrived to terrify the heroine. Eleanor, while undeniably terrified, is drawn to the house because it represents a simple solution to her problems, an escape from a world she fears as much as any ghost.

But watch the film yourself. It's open to many interpretations because it's a genuine work of art. And anyone looking for the flaw in the creation that must always be present, have a listen to Valentine Dyall's American accent. In the night. In the dark.

*There is an excellent (inevitably spoiler heavy) critique of the Netflix series here.

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - The Fog (1980)

John Carpenter's best movie, for some, certainly one of the classic American horror movies. Also the best movie to feature undead lepers. The Fog is one of those films I can watch any number of times and not feel jaded, despite knowing exactly what's going to happen next. Perhaps that's the measure of a work of art, or just proof that I first saw it at an impressionable age.

The Fog is all the more remarkable because it shouldn't work. It contains enough plot-holes and blunders to sink a lesser effort. We have Father Malone (the excellent Hal Holbrook) who is a Catholic priest at Antonio Bay. What's more, his grandfather was a Catholic priest, too... Yes, I know a married man with kids can be ordained a priest, but it's a stretch, to say the least.

Then there's the whole malarkey about the treasure, which was the sole motive for the horrific crime that leads to supernatural vengeance. Getting Blake's gold allowed the construction of the church and the founding of the town itself. Except that it didn't, because we learn that the first Father Malone took most of it and turned it into the ruddy great gold cross that plays such a significant role in the climax.

None of this really matters because there's something in the fog, as Stevie Wayne (Adrienne Barbeau) tells listeners to KAR. What's in the fog is mostly a bright light, a remarkably simple trick that works very well. Instead of something lurking in the shadows, we get a glowing nebula coming out of the night. Inside it are some seriously vengeful spooks that wreak creative carnage.

From the first moments of the film, when Mr Machen (John Houseman) terrifies a bunch of small children and sets up the shipwreck plot, we know we are in good hands. When phones, cars, televisions and other machinery goes crazy at midnight, we get the point that spirits are abroad, exploring the town. When the crew of the trawler see the ghost ship pull alongside it is a wonderful moment, although we know the moments that follow will not be wonderful for them.

And so on until the revenants have exacted their fairly restrained revenge, by bumping off just six citizens and not the whole town. Poor Mrs Kobritz. This is not a film in which being nice guarantees survival. It's also devoid of villains, as all the wrongdoing occurred a century ago. If The Fog has a message it's that the past should be faced and understood, not ignored and lied about. But mostly it's a film about an unearthly fog with ghosts in it that go around killing people, which is as it should be.

'Bobbo'

I continue my running review of Uncertainties III with a very British story. Rob Shearman does a superb job here of combining realism with bizarre horror in a first-person tale about a horror writer. The author in question has a rather low opinion of Robert Aickman, the Bobbo of the title. All the usual criticism appear - pretentious, obscure, boring and so forth. But then our author goes away for a short break to work on an old-school werewolf story (for an anthology called Scary and Hairy), and odd things begin to happen.

Staying a hotel Shearman's narrator finds an inscribed copy of Aickman's first solo collection, Dark Entries. The book - worth quite a bit, of courses - it simply shoved among the airport paperbacks on the shelves of the hotel dining room. Not surprisingly our hero offers to buy it. It's not for sale, so he tells a pack of lies about being a relative of Aickman to get the book for nothing. Then the hotel owner visit the author in his room and begins to talk about Aickman, her one-time lover, and quiz the narrator about his admiration for Bobbo...

At this stage we're still in the very British realms of comedy crafted from dishonestly, confusion, and acute social embarrassment. Things become more serious as the mysterious woman explains that she had a child by Aickman, the younger Bobbo. He, too, is a writer. But he can never come out into the light. The narrator is taken to meet Bobbo, in pitch darkness, hearing nothing but breathing and a strange noise, feeling nothing under his hand but wetness. Later he makes love to Bobbo's mother. Later still, Bobbo tries to pay him a visit.

I enjoyed this tale immensely, partly because it captures much of Aickman's appeal while appearing to reject his school of strange horror.

Happy Hallowe'en All

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - Films That Scared Me

I am not a wuss, as a certain president might have said.

Well, okay, I am a bit of a wuss, to be honest. But I've seen so many horror films (as least twelvety at the last count) that most of the conventional horror gimmicks don't faze me. I'm not going to list the big-money, major franchise horror flicks that have not impressed me lately. But there are a lot of them.

However...

Some films give me the willies, the chills, possibly even the screaming ab-dabs. Why? I don't know, to be honest. But it is undeniably the case. So here goes with some movies that, for whatever reason, gave me a few sleepless hours.

1. The Mothman Prophecies



I've tried to work out why this not particularly film scared me so much. There is little violence, none of your body horror stuff, and the actual monster (if it is a monster, in the true sense) is never clearly seen. But oh dear me, the Mothman is never far away. Zooming out of the night, red eyes a-glow, to cause a car crash. Flickering into being, for a subliminal moment, in a brain scan. Sketched by a dying woman. Blazing his unearthly radiance into the eyes of of a courting couple. Calling people on old-style phones, calling himself 'Indrid Cold'. The Mothman of Point Pleasant is just terrifying, and all too believable.

Based on a long series of genuine Fortean incidents (and no, I have no theory as what really happened but clearly people were scared and confused) the film stars Richard Gere as a high profile Washington Post reporter. One night Gere's character is driving through the night to be sure he gets to a significant political interview the next day. But instead he finds himself in the tiny West Virginia town of Point Pleasant, where he is held up at gunpoint by a very twitchy local.

This is just the beginning of a series of strange events that feel a bit like an extended episode of The X-Files. But this time Mulder and Scully do not turn up with a convenient explanation. Instead we get Brit stalwart Alan Bates talking about time and stuff, and telling the hero to give up on his dangerous quest. Instead, assisted by a cop (Laura Linney, reliable as ever) Gere tries to get to the truth of the mystery. The climax is a little trite, but - as I said earlier - it's factual.

Mothman is now a real tourist attraction. Whether he/it was ever anything else, I don;t know. I do know that every time I watch this film I get genuine chills up the spine, in part because it does not conform to the usual horror formula. Even though I know what's going to happen it still feels wrong, strange, disturbing. This film does not fit readily into any category, hovering on silent wings above the genre conventions.

'Wanting'

The fourth story in this anthology is a novella by Joyce Carol Oates. Such a contribution inevitably comes freighted - or fraught - with the highest expectations. Fortunately, the story lives up to any hype that might exist in the reader's head.

The first part of the story consists of three lines.

Badly she wants a man.
Or, she wants a man badly.
Or, she wants a man. Badly.

A woman we know only as L.K. returns to Detroit to visit a friend who is terminally ill. L.K. is reluctant to see her friend, keener to see the city she once lived in. As the tale unfolds we learn more about the woman, who is no longer young. Her recollections include ferocious racial violence that racked the city in the Sixties. During a night-time walk she encounters an artist, Vann, who invites her to visit his studio apartment in a building she once knew. This is very unwise, and much of the story consists of L.K.'s inner struggles between need and reason.

The story is delivered in sharp focus, with close-ups of Detroit past and present, and of the characters. Strange works of art are contemplated. They seem to include real hair, complete with bloody roots. L.K. realises that she is being unwise, but she sticks with Vann, in part because she is afraid of being accused of racism if she rejects him. It is not clear if Vann is in fact white, one of the many ambiguities that propel the woman to her fate.

In many ways this a conventional horror story, but so well told, without any of the conventional tricks and shocks, that it seems new. And perhaps it is. I found myself wondering if Vann had any existence outside the woman's troubled mind, long undermined by grief and solitude.

More from this running review soon.

'The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar' read by Basil Rathbone

Spoooooky! Obviously.

The Locations Of 'A Warning To The Curious' (1972 BBC Ghost Story For Ch...

Actual details are in the notes under the video, if you click on it to view on YouTube. Rather nice survey.

'Wyrd'

The third story in Uncertainties III is very different from either tale that precedes it. Adam L. G. Nevill's approach is radical in that it offers no protagonist, no dialogue, no characterisation at all. Instead it gives the reader a drone's eye view of a coastal landscape, before zeroing in on a site where Something has Happened. A circle of tents surrounds mysterious stone rings. And outside the tents, a circle of animal sacrifices. 

'These are lambs. Black lambs. Slaughtered and arranged in a circle, like the symbols on some strange clock...'

It is not just the lambs that were sacrificed. Gradually a variation on a familiar theme becomes apparent, as Neville's careful prose exposes just enough of the scene. 'Wyrd' is a tour-de-force, showing that a horror story can be dynamic without depicting action, disturbing without showing any explicit violence. 

So, another winner, which bodes well for the rest of the tales selected by Lynda Rucker in what is - surprisingly enough - her first anthology. 

'Warner's Errand'

The second story in Uncertainties III is by S.P. Miskowksi. Warner is a retiree whose wife, Marianne, keeps him on his toes with her eccentric, incessant demands.

The story begins with Warner leaving his house to try and buy his missus a 'bumpy wooden-handled thing' that might be a back-scratcher from a failing general store. They live in a desert town, and the description of the blazing heat has a Ballardian feel. The story's realism and humour carry the reader along as poor Warner tries to accomplish his task. We know he won't.

Along the way we learn about his life, the way in which an old man eventually gives up on modernity, becomes exhausted by the futility of keeping up with change. Warner had 'retired to avoid being one of those maligned old men, mocked behind their backs, creaking around the office trying to pick up the slang of managers half their age'.

Miskowski excels in clear, thoughtful insights into supposedly ordinary lives. Warner is one of the most believable, sympathetic characters I have encountered lately. His return home, empty-handed. And then the story ends, in a way. It is only marginally a horror tale, perhaps more of a ghost story, but undoubtedly offers us uncertainty.

More from this anthology very soon.

Uncertainties: Volume III - Running Review

Here we go again with a nifty new anthology, this time from Swan River Press. Uncertainties III is doubly (or perhaps triply) interesting because it is edited by Lynda E. Rucker, a name familiar to ST readers.

Here are the details. It is, of course, a nicely-produced volume with a stylish, monochrome theme to the dustjacket and covers. What, then, of the contents?

In her introduction Rucker explains that the theme of the series is relatively broad, as the title suggests. Uncertainties means just that - the moments when we are unsure if we have glimpsed a 'little slip of the veil', exposing us to something that may be supernatural, or at least unknown.

The first story is 'Monica in the Hall of Moths' by Matthew M. Bartlett. This is a moving account of bereavement, or so I thought at first. The narrator talks of Monica, his love for her, and her sudden, shocking death. His grieving process is bound up with a strange children's book that he recalls, but which apparently never existed.

This is a very powerful lead story, balancing psychological horror with a disturbing fantasy element. It may be an account of a mind in chaos, but there details - particularly the Monica that returns to the narrator near the end of the tale - are firmly in the tradition of subtle, hallucinatory horror. So, a great start.

Hallowe'en Board Games

Yes, we made our own entertainment in those days. We bought something from a shop, and then we conjured up dark forces with dice, and then Annoying Tommy from No. 11 was sacrificed...

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - Yet To Be Made!

Yes, I'm cheating like buggery by listing just a few classics of weird fiction that I would like to see given the big-screen treatment. Or even the small screen treatment, I'm not that fussed.

1. The House on the Borderland

Yes, William Hope Hodgson's proto-cosmic horror novel might need a bit of tweaking. But there's enough good stuff in there to permit a genuinely strange and wonderful movie to emerge, shaking its clotted wings. Modern effects would certainly not have problems giving us spiffing Swine Things, and the visionary passages would be splendid - if handled correctly. The Irish landscape plus period detail offers potential for rather lovely scenes at the beginning and end. And how many other films offer a director the chance to depict the end of the world, and more?


2. Nights of the Round Table

We all like a good portmanteau movie, and Margery Allingham's 1926 collection has enough cracking tales to fill up a good ninety minutes. The framing narrative is a club where members tell strange stories, so it's already a portmanteau setup. I would choose 'Vlasto's Doll', 'Robin's Rath', 'The Fifteenth Green', and 'Morag-of-the-Cave', but most of her stories are pretty darn good.


3. Count Magnus

Yes, an M.R. James short story is more obviously a candidate for a 30-40 minute BBC drama. But I think Mr Wraxall's adventure in Sweden have the potential for something more substantial. Throw in a few more garrulous characters, add some extended flashbacks to the count's glory days, perhaps create a lady for Wraxall to fall for (as in Night of the Demon) and you've got potential.


4. Ancient Sorceries


Another short story, but Blackwood's tale offers great potential as the nucleus for an atmospheric tale of witchcraft in provincial France. Again, effects might offer rather wonderful cat-creatures, and the contrast between the 'dream town' that Vezin sees and the modern reality could be handled very effectively.

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - Cat People (1942)

The earliest of my viewing choices, influenced by the fact that this classic and it's sequel happen to be on the BBC iPlayer - so, if you can access it from where you are, you can watch it. It's another short feature, too, running at just 70 mins. Director Jacques Tourneur certainly packs enough into this one to make you feel you've had a genuine odyssey into another, parallel world.

Kent Smith as Oliver Reed (!) provides the anchor here, playing a very sensible and clean-cut American naval architect. At the zoo, by the black panther cage, her meets and flirts with fashion artist Irena, a Serbian who seems  alone in New York. Irena lives in an extraordinary apartment building, thanks to sets left over from Orson Welles' abortive project, The Magnificent Ambersons.

Soon the young couple are married. But Irena had already confided in Oliver that in her village there is a legend of a tribe of witches who, in the throes of anger or passion, transformed into cats. She fears that she might kill him if their marriage is consummated. This naturally puts a strain on their relationship, though Oliver strives to be understanding. On the advice of his colleague Alice, Oliver asks Irena to see a psychiatrist, Doctor Judd. The latter provides a thoroughly Freudian explanation for it all.

Unfortunately for all concerned, Judd is very wrong. Alice reveals she has always loved Oliver. Irena is jealous, and in a famous scene pursues Alice to a bus-stop in the dark. We never see Irena transform, but in a second attempt on Alice's life the carefully-rationed details are clear enough. The use of bloody footprints is truly chilling, and thrilling. It's also surprising (i.e. I'd forgotten) how Judd abandons his medical ethics to try his luck with Irena.

Cat People is at triumph of style over budget. RKO was in financial crisis before Val Lewton produced this compact classic, which took a fortune at the box office and saved the studio. It is one of the best examples of a subtle, black and white horror movie. It sets a standard that has seldom been equalled for economical, stylish visuals that make simple light and shadow far more powerful than any effects work. Every frame a potential poster, every shot a work of art.

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - A Few Suggestions

Here's a few rambling, random thoughts on types of film I have yet to cover, and a little tribute to some lesser-known gems. Let's begin in the fairly mysterious East...



A Tale of Two Sisters is a 2003 Korean horror movie with shocks aplenty. It has rightly been praised for combining classic ghost story elements with a psycho-thriller plot that hangs together well and offers a startling twist. Director Kim Jee-woon created the biggest-selling Korean movie of all time, and the first to be screened in American cinemas.

Next up, more Lovecraft! Though you might not think so at first glance.



After doing a few Poes, Roger Corman settled on 'The Case of Charles Dexter Ward' for his next costume Gothic. Scripted by Charles Beaumont, the film keeps some of the original story but deviates so strongly from it in key ways that it is almost an original plot. Vincent Price plays Ward and his ancestor Curwen, and there is a great cameo from Lon Chaney Jr. Debra Paget, object of Peter Cook and Dudley's Moore's lust in their TV shows, is Ward's much-menaced bride.

But the best aspect of the film is Arkham, a misty old place where half the population are hideous hybrids. Beaumont changes Lovecraft's central intention, making Curwen a kind of idealist who wishes to somehow create a new human race by offering nubile Arkham lovelies to a Thing that lives in a pit under his castle. Needless to say, it is not a viable strategy.

Finally, a bit of modern US horror that takes an ambitious approach to the traditional ghost story.



Static (2012) stars Sara Paxton and Milo Ventimiglia as a couple who have recently lost a child, and are fraying under the stress of grief. Their relationship is made even shakier when a young woman arrives on their doorstep, asking for refuge. Things take an even weirder turn when masked, hooded figures are glimpsed in the night. A home invasion occurs, the couple try to escape, and it's a moot point whether the viewer will guess what the real situation is. I admit I worked out the twist before it came, but I still enjoyed the film a lot.

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - The Call of Cthulhu (2005)

Since my last HHM was a low-budget silent film, why not have another one? The H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society has a well-deserved reputation for high-quality audio adaptations of Lovecraft's tales.

It was bold, to say the least, of this group of amateurs to make a film of one of ol' Howie's more cerebral tales. It was also quite clever, though, when you think about it. There are only two big scenes - the swamp cultists, and the confrontation between the sailors and Big C himself/itself. The rest is a very traditional narrative, the 'piecing together' of a story too vast and terrifying to be more than glimpsed.

What the Society team do is use humour, some clever techniques, nice set-dressing, and a bit of good location work to give the film a classy feel. We are sometimes in Providence, R.I, mostly on Hollywood sound stages, and we get good model work with split-screen and stop-motion. It's the kind of adaptation an early film maker might have attempted if Lovecraft had been hugely successful in his lifetime. Surprisingly, they even pull off the effect of 'unearthly geometry' swallowing a hapless seafarer at one point.

This is a short film - only 47 mins - and that feels about right. We begin with a doctor talking to Thurston about the documents he inherited from his uncle, Professor George Gammell Angel. Cue the first flashback, and the various components of the tale are assembled, just like the jigsaw Thurston completes in the opening scene. I liked the old-school theatrical make-up and the use of title cards to convey much of Lovecraft's fine phrases. There are also some fine props, such as a weird key used to open Angell's trunk.

Any flaws in the film are really due to the original material, not any failing in the script. There are heroic attempts to dramatise a man spending a lot of time looking for things in various places, and talking to people to get second- or third-hand information. The actors, for my money, are pretty good, in some cases excellent, especially the bold Inspector Legrasse, the sailors, and of course Angell himself. The fight between Legrasse's police and the cultists is a little weak, but fight arranging is not easy or cheap, and the stylised approach fits the overall theme of retro-cinema.

The proof of the gelatinous pudding, of course, is the landing on R'lyeh, which is a triumph of creativity over poverty. Here there is a major change, with the crew of the Emma simply finding the Alert drifting, apparently abandoned. It's implicit that the cultists have already fallen victim to their own deity. The innocent men go ashore and Cthulhu is revealed - and is not a disappointment. Stop-motion monsters were part of my childhood, and while this is not up to Harryhausen standards, it is still pretty good. Especially well handled is the moment when Johannsen pierces the fetid colossus with the bowsprit of the Alert.

So, if you have well under an hour to spare, why not check this one out? Even if you're not a Lovecraft fan, it's good, mind-blasting fun.

The Tell Tale Heart - 1953 narrated by James Mason

Hallowe'en Horror - Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary (2002)

If I tell you there's a Canadian ballet version of Dracula, you may feel that it's not for you. This, I think, would be a pity. Director Guy Maddin's take on the Royal Winnipeg Ballet's adaptation is not only very entertaining to the non-ballet type (such as me) but also stays remarkably faithful to Stoker's novel. It's not for everyone, but what is? As horror goes this is as un-generic, yet truly Gothic, as you can get.

The story begins with Lucy Westenra (the statuesque Tara Birtwhistle) and her three suitors. Her decision to wed the English milord coincides with the scream of Renfield at the nearby Whitby asylum - the Master is coming! With minimal ado Dracula (Zhang Wei-Quiang) appears and pounces on Lucy. Maddin's monochrome, silent movie approach allows some clever technical tricks, such as highlighting the puncture wounds in red. Lucy's behaviour becomes a bit strange, and Van Helsing is summoned. Cue the garlic and the (amazingly reckless, for the time) blood transfusions.

The story proceeds much as the stage version of Dracula, with Lucy's death, unholy resurrection as the Bloofer Lady, and her destruction by Van Helsing's scratch anti-vampire squad. Because female dancers must be foregrounded (ballet, duh) we get a splendid showdown in the crypt between the men and vampire-Lucy. The actual killing, complete with decapitation, is shockingly effective. I suspect Carmilla was on somebody's bedside table.

Van Helsing and his boys set out to hunt Dracula down, and seek out Mina and Jonathan Harker at the convent near a certain castle. Mina finds her fiance ill but recovering, and reads his diary. Harker has encountered Dracula's brides. The film's frequent and often quirky inter-titles sum this up with the word FLESHPOTS! Mina takes news of her man's antics with aplomb, but he seems to have problems with the whole sex thing. While he is dithering, Dracula strikes, and whisks Mina off to his abode.

The final showdown is well-handled, with nods to various traditions, notably the Hammer 'get him in the sunlight, he won't like it' school. But it is clearly not the menfolk who truly vanquish the count. CindyMarie Small's Mina is the 'good girl', in obvious contrast to Lucy's sensuality, but in the end it is her strength that wins through. Dracula ends up impaled on a spear - a neat reference to old Vlad Tepes, of course.

This is a short film (only 74 mins) and one with a light touch. There are grim gags aplenty, especially from Van Helsing and poor old Renfield. Admittedly it takes a few liberties and shoves all that Victorian subtext about sex and foreigners front and centre as raw text. But the story never flags, and while Maddin's editing is a tad frantic at times, he clearly took pleasure in his work. This is a clever, attractive, good-humoured version of Dracula. It cost a tiny fraction of Coppola's, yet I can't help feeling it drives its stake closer to the heart of the monster.

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - Bram Stoker's Dracula

It's really Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula, and Stoker might have had a fit if he'd seen it. This is also a film that managed, in 1992, to demonstrate that casting Americans in a British story can work very well (Tom Waits as Renfield) or very badly (Keanu Reeves and Wynona Ryder as Jonathan and Mina). It also showed that Gary Oldman can play any role with style and energy, even under a ton of latex gunge and/or silly wigs.



The film is visually brilliant, full of stunning images and old-school effects, with not a digital gimmick in sight. It would be tempted to watch it with the sound turned off, but the score by Wojciech Kilar is also rather wonderful. Costumes by Eiko Ishioka are also superb, ditching the dusty cape for a range of aristocratic garb. The big budget went onto the screen. Sets are hyper-lavish, backdrops splendid.

The film also moves at a reasonably fast pace - it's two hours might have seemed long in the last century, but compared to much recent genre stuff it feels rather brisk. There are some nice action scenes, and erotic malarkey that made me wish Coppola had tackled 'Carmilla' instead. Dracula's brides, led by Monica Belluci, are convincing and true to the original story.

But we all know, I suspect, where the problems lie. The bad acting, the bad accents, the feeling that as Van Helsing Antony Hopkins was having a private joke at Coppola's expense. The term 'random bellowing' has been suggested for his approach, and it's as good a description as any. Most horror movies offer inconsistent performances, but seldom have key players ranged from fine - Waits' Renfield, Richard E. Grant's sadly under-used Seward - to naff.

Gothic horror is always a bit daft, so there's no point in absurdities, even though there are a lot of them. For instance: Dracula in London encounters Mina on the street, tells her he's a prince, and persuades her to go to the pictures (bioscope) with him, where they watch some early porn. In 1897. There are also odd expository wobbles, as in Van Helsing's voice  over telling us that vampire can indeed function in daylight. Anyone who'd read the book would know this. Anyone who hadn't could figure it out.

But I still watched it all the way through. Even as I scoffed I found something to admire in every scene - well, almost. This is one of the most ambitious horror films ever made, and it deserved its slew of awards. It would have been even better with the right cast, but it's still damnably entertaining.

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - It Follows

As others have pointed out, this one has a lot in common with Night of the Demon/'Casting the Runes'. We even begin with an incident that makes it clear we are dealing with an unusual menace, and a terrifying one, before we meet the main characters. While we do not see the demon, we get a moment of pure body horror. The film lays down a marker - whatever s' going on is real.



Having said that, It Follows (2014) is nothing like a Jamesian ghost story in tone. Its characters are a group of young people enjoying their summer break, and finding it hard at first to grasp what is menacing one of their number. The basic premise is simple - a sexually transmitted curse. If you pass it on you can escape, possibly. If you don't, it follows and will get you eventually.

As the victim of a cruel deceit, Maika Monroe is convincingly confused, frightened, and ultimately courageous. The supporting cast are good to excellent, proving that a 'teen horror' doesn't have to be a graveyard of decent performances. There's also a slightly retro feel to the movie - these are teenagers who spend a remarkably small amount of time online.

The director, David Robert Mitchell, plays cleverly with the audience's expectations. Of course one of the group will not believe in the menace and falls victim to it. The twist lies in the way the entity can take on any human form, including that of loved ones. There is also the obligatory attempt to defeat the 'demon', which descends into chaos. The movie's ending leaves things just ambiguous enough. Is it still following? I suspect most viewers believe it is.

It Follows is not a conventional horror movie, and its take on the supernatural is devoid of most conventional exposition. There is simply a hitherto unimaginable threat, and people's responses to it. While not perfect, it comes close to being the ideal modern horror movie - one that shuns conventional Gothic tropes, but still focuses on a young woman's attempts to escape a kind of haunting that affects not merely some old mansion, but her entire world.

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - Tales of Terror

A bit of good old harmful fun with Roger Corman and his pals, this time. Nothing too serious, here, but horror does not have to be modern, gritty, or especially realistic to work.

Having adapted three of Poe's best--known tales, Corman moved on in 1962 to produce a portmanteau of three short stories. Here you will find fairly free adaptations of 'The Black Cat', 'Morella', and 'The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar'. The stars are Basil Rathbone, Peter Lorre, and Vincent Price, each turning in full-blooded performances. Old-school costume Gothic has seen something of a revival lately, so it's worth noting that, along with Hammer, Corman was responsible for the first post-war horror movies in  glorious 'color'.

Each story is distinctly different from the original text. 'Morella', a very brief tale, becomes a distinctly Freudian and very weird drama. Vincent Price's daughter Lenora visits her old dad and finds him living in perpetual mourning for Morella, Lenora's mother. Because she died in childbirth he blames his daughter for her death. When Lenora reveals she is dying, however, he begins to be reconcile to her. However, Morella rises from the dead with vengeance in mind...

'The Black Cat' is a comedy interlude, albeit very dark comedy. Peter Lorre is a drunken cuckold who hates his wife and her cat. Vincent Price appears in the role of the wife's lover, and both end up being walled up alive, along with the moggie. Of course the police turn up, and we all know what happens then. It's the weakest segment, but watching Peter Lorre is always enjoyable, and his bulging-eyed, red-faced villain is as much a Poe-esque creation as any etiolated gentleman-scholar.

'The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar' sees Basil Rathbone as a hypnotist employed by a dying Vincent Price to alleviate his suffering. The hypnotist becomes a little too interested in Valdemar's wife, however. The evil hypnotist tries to force Mme. Valdemar to bend to his evil desires by refusing to release her husband's soul from its rotting corporeal form. This proves unwise...

Compared to the previous two movies in this informal series, Tales of Terror is rather small fry. But its one of the lesser-known portmanteau/anthology movies, and passes the time nicely. Watch with a cup of tea and some shortbread, if you don't have any Amontillado in the house.

Nigel Kneale's 'The Road' - Resurfaced

Over here you can read an interview with the writer/actor/presenter Toby Hadoke about 'The Road'. This is widely considered to be a lost TV masterpiece by the legendary Nigel Kneale. A script still exists, but sometime after the show was broadcast in 1963 the BBC wiped the videotape.

Now a radio adaptation of this unusual ghost story will be broadcast this coming Saturday on Radio 4. It will of course be available on the BBC iPlayer shortly after premiering at 2.30 pm. And here are the cast, including (third from right) Hattie Moraghan, whose father directed the original TV version. And apparently an archivist found some of the original Radiophonic Workshop effects, which have been re-used in the radio play. Spiffing!



I have decided not to include spoilers in this little item, as 'The Road' is one of those 'ah, now I get it' twist ending stories. Set in the 18th century (aka the Age of Reason) it concerns a haunting in a forest that is believed to be related to an old Roman road. A country squire and an 'modern' intellectual gentlemen investigate, and argue over what the true nature of the mystery might be. Local rustic characters give their accounts. The audience, however, discovers an all-too-horrifying significance to the strange sights and sounds on The Road. I was particularly pleased to read that very little has been altered in the script, only as much as needed to make it work in audio alone.

Sometimes there’s a risk that Kneale’s reputation as a great ideas writer can obscure the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing with characters and dialogue too. “He was very good at character and this is a character piece,” Hadoke says. “It’s an argument between two men who have very different ideas and whose input into the plot is one of the most surprising elements. The ostensible goodie and the ostensible baddie are actually both responsible in their different ways for the terror that is unleashed, which is very clever.” You’ll need to listen in to discover which is which, but the two lead characters are local squire Sir Timothy Hassall (Adrian Scarborough) and visiting London intellectual Gideon Cobb (Mark Gatiss). Hadoke says, “The Road is a piece that’s known because of this brilliant genre concept, but actually what most of the play is about is two very well-drawn characters sparring with each other against the backdrop of a haunting. Kneale does that so well and you don’t need Hadoke to mess with it.”

I'm really looking forward to this. It is clearly a labour of love. I doubt it will herald a slew of Kneale remakes for radio, or indeed TV, but we can hope.

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - The Eye (2002)

Hong Kong horror is a sub-genre that was somewhat overshadowed by the J-Horror boom that began at the turn of the century. However, with this clever variation on the theme of the ghost-seer the Pang Brothers showed that HK is not to be ignored.

The film is based on an urban legend - a woman with corneal grafts who begins to see strange ghosts. This kind of  'transplant ghost story' is nothing new. But what The Eye does is spin the idea into everything the horror fan might want - jump scares, strange dreams, diverse and disturbing ghosts, and even a happy ending. Of sorts.

Mun (played by Malaysian Chinese actor Lee Sin-je) is a young woman who has been blind since she was two. After corneas become available she undergoes surgery, and is put in the care of psychologist Wah (Laurence Chou). When Mun starts to see odd things Wah draws the conclusion that her mind is struggling to make sense of new sensations. But Mun, and the audience, know better. She is simply seeing more than most people. Gradually she comes to realise that she is seeing the world as it truly is - that HK is a city of the dead.



It could be argued that movie pivots on two great moments - the hungry ghosts, and the man in the elevator. While these are superb, they would not be so effective if the groundwork had not been laid by showing us Mun's blurry impressions of events in her hospital, and her encounter with the little boy outside her grandmother's apartment. It's also very restrained in its use of psychic palaver, perhaps because so much ghostly lore here derives from traditional Taoist beliefs.

Like The Orphanage, The Eye a film about the sadness of ghosts and the wrongs people do, and the possibility of reconciliation. It delivers its scares in a good cause, and while it may seem slick and conventional in some respects it also has great confidence and energy. Its message of compassion and understanding is clear in any language.

Gormenghast Castle Automata

Hallowe'en Horror Movies - The Orphanage

What will I be watching over the spooky season? Since I watch new horror movies all year round, I try to rewatch the ones I really love over Hallowe'en. An exercise in nostalgia? Of course!

First up is a very modern film with a strong Gothic sensibility. The Orphanage/El Orfanato,is one of the most effective screen ghost stories to come out of Spain. The film works in part because the story is itself extremely good. A couple with a seriously ill child buy an old orphanage and convert it into a special home. But the lingering spirit of a little boy who suffered a terrible fate in the house disrupts their lives forever.



The film, directed by Juan Antonio Bayona, manages to make many conventional haunted house tropes work perfectly. The son's imaginary friends, the lighthouse on the headland, a strange encounter in the sea caves - all combine to produce a sense of mystery, and gradually escalating menace. The use of children's games, the arrival of a disturbing and disturbed person with a tale to tell, and the psychic investigation with hi-tech instruments - it's all here, used to amazing effect.

When the horror finally becomes immediate, unavoidable, the reactions of the characters always convince. As the tormented and heroic Laura, Belen Rueda is superb. The actual ghost is original, convincing, ultimately tragic. When it premiered at Cannes in 2007 this film received a ten minute standing ovation. Watch it, and you will see why.

Update: Re-watched it last night, and was just as moved and enthralled as before. I had forgotten how effortlessly the script by Sergio G. Sanchez fits together all the disparate aspects off the haunting. Also, for a premier feature Bayona directs with extraordinary confidence. Geraldine Chaplin as Aurora the medium appears for a relatively short time, but in the great tradition of this kind of film she is also central. She offers a counterpoint to the movie's villain. There is no better film about a haunting, and what a haunting might mean.

A Ghosts & Scholars Book of Folk Horror - Review Part 2

We round off our review of the latest Sarob volume with the new stories selected by Ro Pardoe for this impressive new anthology. First up Gail-Nina Anderson with 'Variant Versions', a story drawing on the author's background in academia and her interest in folklore.

A chance encounter at the launch of a new book reveals the story behind an almost-forgotten article on an obscure ballad. The narrator ventures to the village where the ballad was recorded, and discovers that the version in the book is incomplete. The author deftly juggles complex and interesting themes, such as feminist interpretations of folk tales, while the verse at the heart of the story has an authentic ring. There is a nicely Jamesian feel to the way in which we glimpse the supernatural at second hand, but with great intensity.

Helen Grant's contribution, 'The Valley of Achor' (I looked it up, it's interesting), is set in Perthshire in February. She perfectly evokes the bleakness of the rural landscape as her researcher sets off on a bicycle to try and find the ruins of an old church. Instead she stumbled upon what seems to be a pre-Christian sacred site. And yet, in a bizarre twist, the site she finds seems to consist in part of stones robbed from the church. How can this be? A suitably weird story that left me wondering what was going on, and keen to re-read it.

Equally enjoyable is 'The Cutty Wren' by Tom Johnstone. Here a very Jamesian pursuit of a mystery related to an old folk song is given a more modern spin thanks to a tense, complex relationship between the male narrator and a tough female scholar. An unpleasant incident leads indirectly to a quest that peels back layers of possible meaning. In the end Jenny, the dynamic researcher, takes things too far, and literally digs up one item too many.

'Sisters Rise' by Christopher Harman is a typically subtle and at times nightmarish story. This time the folklore element is a standing stone, Tall Maud, which stands on a wooded hill. The legend has it that once there were a group of witches who turned to stone, but only one remains. The presence of the other witches (if that's what they are) is revealed in a very clever way that recalls several MRJ stories. Stylistically this is far from what Monty wrote, but in terms of ideas it's right up his street.

John Llewellyn Probert is a keen aficionado of horror flicks (see his excellent blog here) but in 'The Discontent of Familiars' he demonstrates a firm grasp of the subtler Jamesian tradition. Indeed, this one of the most traditional stories in the book, with its Oxford scholar deliberately buying a cottage that once belonged to a notorious witch. The narrator (like the author) is a doctor who receives a series of letters from his friend, as the cottage's phone and wi-fi apparently don't work, The letters grow increasingly strange and disturbing until eventually the doctor drives down to see just bad things are. I won't spoil the ending, but it's a kicker.

Interestingly, only one new story draws on continental folklore. 'The Dew-Shadows' by David A. Sutton starts in classic Jamesian fashion, as a man discovers a folder of old civil service documents in a sale. The papers in question are letters from an archaeologist working in Crete in the early stages of World War 2. This produces that Jamesian requirement, a 'slight haze of distance'. The long-dead archaeologist found a tomb apparently linked to Pan, or a similar deity. When the protagonist takes advantage of a holiday in Crete to see if the tomb is still there, he encounters the strange entities of the title.

With the last story we go from the black shadows of the Mediterranean to the sub-Arctic gloom of the Highlands. 'Out of the Water, Out of the Ground' by S.A. Rennie begins with a young man admiring a painting of a man pursued by a shadowy figure. In terms of tone this one departs from M.R. James and moves closer to the mainstream of horror, with great effect. A group of unpleasant wooden figures placed in a rockery might seem a rather trivial menace. But in the hands of this author the 'little people' become truly disturbing.

So, that is my quick overview of this extremely readable book. If you can get your hands on a copy, I don't think you will be disappointed.