LIZZIE: THE MUSICAL (2010+)

(Theatre/YouTube) Another theatre production, but this one is far more accessible, as there’s an original cast album and a number of clips and performances available on YouTube. As you might surmise from the title, it’s a rock opera with a different take on the legend of Lizzie Borden, authored by Steven Cheslik-deMeyer, Tim Maner, and Alan Stevens Hewitt. The official website describes it as so:

“LIZZIE is four women fronting a six-piece rock band.

“LIZZIE is Rage! Sex! Betrayal! BLOODY MURDER!

“LIZZIE is American mythology set to a blistering rock score with a sound owing less to Sondheim and Andrew Lloyd Webber than to BIKINI KILL, the RUNAWAYS, and HEART.”

So, yeah, that ticks all of my boxes, and hopefully yours too.

The production I saw was executed by Chicago’s Firebrand Theatre who are an “equity musical theatre company committed to employing and empowering women on and off the stage” and it was a goddamn blast. I can’t wait to see another of their offerings, but definitely jump at the chance to catch any production of it, if it hits your area.

HOUSE OF BORDEN (one of my favorite renditions of my favorite number, but I’m not sure why they had one of them play two parts):

What may be my new favorite YouTube theatre trailer, for what looks to have been a brilliant Canadian production (although it does untether the actors from their mics, which is not in line with prior productions):

Lastly, every time I rediscover this musical, I can’t help but endlessly re-listen to it.

THE DROWNING GIRLS (2008+)

(Theatre) I rarely write about theatre because it’s so niche, privileged (as in: expensive and caters to those who can afford it) and ephemeral, but this piece has stuck with me. THE DROWNING GIRLS is a stageplay from Canadian playwrights Beth Graham, Charlie Tomlinson, and Daniela Vlaskalic, based on the actions of real-life Victorian George Joseph Smith who drowns three older women he recently married in their bathtub, mostly for profit and, probably also: sadism. In other words: a cautionary ghost short for the women in the audience, just like so many horror tales.

While most of the productions follow the same simple staging — three bathtubs, three women in nightgowns, mostly soaking wet for 70 minutes straight — I’m sure they all vacillate wildly in tone. (After all, that’s one of the fascinating parts about theatre.) The production I saw was helmed by Madeline Keller and was stunning and powerful and vengeful.

No matter the production, I think it’s interesting enough to chance it.

THE SUMMER PEOPLE (1950)

I consider myself more familiar with Shirley Jackson than most authors. I’ve read the majority of her works, including many short stories, as well as Ruth Franklin’s biography A RATHER HAUNTED LIFE (2016), and I previously wrote about THE HAUNTING (1969) and have a conflicted relationship with Josephine Decker’s SHIRLEY (2020), and don’t get me started on Mike Flanagan’s THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE (2018).

I attended a screening of the currently unavailable OFFSEASON (2021) — I believe it’ll be available via Shudder/VOD next year, but I felt it’d be dumb to recommend something no one can see — and the director (Mickey Keating, who I know best from DARLING (2015)) was in attendance and discussed the influences which were mostly obvious in a good way: SILENT HILL 2 (the game, not the film), THE FOG (1980), but he also name-checked Shirley Jackson’s THE SUMMER PEOPLE, which I’d never heard of.

For reasons I’m unaware of, Jackson’s short stories — many of which were published in long-gone magazines — have been frustratingly difficult to track down until relatively recently. This is speculation on my behalf, but the bulk of SHIRLEY — the fictionalized version of Shirley Jackson’s life that Decker adapted from Susan Scarf Merrell’s novel is seemingly built on the back of Jackson’s short THE MISSING GIRL, which was mostly unknown and out-of-print until 2018. Anyway, THE SUMMER PEOPLE was recently released as part of a new-ish Jackson short-story collection: DARK TALES (2017), with an intro from Ottessa Moshfegh (one of my favs: see DEATH IN HER HANDS (2020) and MY YEAR OF REST AND RELAXATION (2018))

THE SUMMER PEOPLE is short, but very effective. It’s a rather quintessential ‘New England outsider’ take — as a number of her works are — but so expertly drawn, and ends on such a fraught and enigmatic note that I couldn’t help but love it, and certainly couldn’t fault Mickey Keating for leaning on it. Like all of Jackson’s shorts, it’s so economical and builds so well, it feels as rich and riveting as several hundred pages.

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/558130/dark-tales-by-shirley-jackson-foreword-by-ottessa-moshfegh/

WICKED STEPMOTHER (1989)

(Hoopla/VOD) WICKED STEPMOTHER (1989) WICKED STEPMOTHER has horror elements, but is really a dark comedy. It is also best known as being Bette Davis’ last film — sadly, while she brings a ton of energy to the role that’s left to the film, she’s clearly ailing — but it’s also penned and directed by the legendary Larry Cohen (RIP). The on-screen direction is clearly tumultuous (you can read more about the troubled production here and especially here, from Cohen himself) but, in short, it boils down to Bette Davis quitting the production midway through because she said she was frustrated with how she was portrayed, but she eventually admitted it was because of health issues — which resulted in rewrites in order to get -something- usable to the screen that still included Davis, as well as a lawsuit against Davis

I’m not going to say that WICKED STEPMOTHER is a great film, but it is a lot of fun. Sure, there’s a lot of extremely schtick-y vaudeville camp involved, but it made me laugh, and it definitely aligns with the slapstick horror vein of the late 80s/early 90s.

DETENTION (2021)

(Cinemas/VOD) DETENTION (2021) This film is based on the previously featured videogame, but unless you played said game, it’s unlikely you would know it despite the fact that it mostly adheres to the original game’s story and visual design. Many of the sets are surprisingly detailed recreations of the game’s 2D environments, and Gingle Wang is a fantastic swap-in for Fang (ostensibly the protagonist, and I will fight you about that), but the script is rich enough that it doesn’t feel like an horror point-and-click game adaptation.

Yes, it takes a few liberties and makes a few feints — some characters stick around far longer than they did in the game — but it’s a far more nuanced and complicated expounding on the game’s narrative and characters, and it even improves on the already fantastic creature design.

Personally, I played the game first and then immediately watched the film and felt very rewarded. There are a number of easter eggs that aren’t just there to point at, including how deftly the film handles the game’s multiple endings.

I’ll note that there’s also a mini-series available via Netflix, which I have yet to watch.

THE TOLL (2017)

I mostly know of Cherie Priest as a steampunk novelist, but THE TOLL is one wild, southern gothic weird fiction tale. It kicks off with newlyweds Titus and Melanie driving to honeymoon in the Okenfenokee Swamp. They drive over a bridge and then Titus wakes up, prone, outside his car. Melanie is nowhere to be found. He ventures to the nearest town, Staywater, for help, and matters only get stranger.

Priest peppers her characters with plenty of verve, especially two older sisters who happen to be two extremely badass geriatric witches. If you scrutinize the events and actions, it doesn’t exactly hang together, and the conclusion might feel a tad unsatisfying depending on what you expect, but the journey is a damn rip-roaring time.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780765378231

HEALTH MUSIC VIDEOS (2009+)

HEALTH is a surprisingly popular electronic band that has a sound and aesthetic more suited for dark late-90s/early naughts clubs than, well, Spotify. They double down on that idiosyncratic nature with a number of their videos, which are firmly ensconced in both the horror genre and art film worlds.

DIE SLOW (2009):

While the video for DIE SLOW fully leans into sensationalism, given that it depicts a bloodletting frenzy, visually its use of framing and reframing (and more reframing) reminds me more of Peter Greenaway’s PROSPERO’S BOOKS, and its editing is extraordinarily taut.

WE ARE WATER (2009):


Immaculately produced, but a bit squicky — if you’re familiar with SLEEPAWAY CAMP, you know what I’m talking about.

STONEFIST (2015):

A relatively surface-level commentary on musicians and cosmetic surgery, but they take it so far over the top, especially with the glamour framing and lighting, that I can’t help but revel in it.

NEW COKE (2015):

HEALTH loves to villainize their drummer.

(Warning: this video features very disgusting slo-mo vomit — some self-induced — so you might want to bail before 1m45s.)

STRANGE DAYS 1999 (2019):

No, really, HEALTH loves to villainize their drummer. Also, this is an absolutely brilliant riff on late 90s ‘true crime’ motifs.

I’ll note that I’ve never called any of their numbers, but I’ve been very tempted to.

THE SILENT COMPANIONS (2018)

Upon reading the first chapter of Laura Purcell’s THE SILENT COMPANIONS and the detailing of recently-widowed woman greeting a looming Victorian estate that resided in the middle of nowhere, I was a tad worried that it was yet another architectural horror work, of which I am a tad burned out on at the moment.

As I read on, I discovered that THE SILENT COMPANIONS is more of a ‘haunted object/grounds’ work, centered around a litany of hand-carved, hand-painted wooden depictions of youths and adults alike that evoked a certain Victorian ‘uncanny valley’, pieces named ‘silent companions’.

I digress — let us get back to the recently-widowed woman. Said widower is Elsie, a woman in her mid-20s who grew up working in her father’s match factory, and has the flame-scarred hands to prove it, as she burned them trying to put out a fire and, as her father went to rescue her, he fell into a sawmill, and that was the end of him. Her mother died shortly after, leaving her to take care of her younger brother Jolyon, and the two inherited the match factory.

Later, three investors come by, sniffing around to purchase the now-ailing factory. Both Elsie and Jolyon sit down with these three men, two object to Elsie’s inclusion, and her willfulness drives all but the third off, a Mr. Rupert Bainbridge. He invests in the factory, saving it, and weds Elsie — elevating her social status.

Elsie ends up marrying Rupert, and is elated to be marrying above her station, to live in London, waited on by staff and wearing finery. She discovers she’s pregnant, and Rupert sets off to their rural estate to make it fit for the three of them to live in but, sadly, he dies shortly after. Cue Elsie’s trip to estate.

What follows is a tightly interwoven generational tales about the house, the silent companions purchased by prior ancestors that haunt the estate, and flashforwards to Elsie in an asylum.

It is a lot, but it is measuredly spooled out and, while it doesn’t quite hang together at the end, it’s a thrilling read. The standout part of the novel itself is Elsie herself, who is a fascinatingly prickly woman, one who managed to rise above her station in hopes for greater comforts, then spends the bulk of her internal monologuing at the Bainbridge estate grousing about the lack of manners and fashion codes of her aides and staff. Well worth reading, especially if you are a Sarah Waters fan.

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/554573/the-silent-companions-by-laura-purcell/

TITANE (2021)

(Cinemas) TITANE is the second feature from Julia Ducournau, who previously wrote and directed the sisterly cannibal tale RAW (2016), and while RAW was exquisitely executed, TITANE is a masterclass in controlled filmmaking.

I won’t describe the plot — I personally don’t believe in spoilers, but while TITANE is deadly serious (although it does have a number of quality laughs), it’s also an extremely wild ride that I think is best viewed without knowledge of a plot summary — but I will give two very sparse character sketches of the two protagonists: 1) Alexia (newcomer Agathe Rousselle, who plays this role like a seasoned pro) is a 32-year-old dancer who had a skull injury when she was young and still lives with her parents. 2) Vincent (Vincent Lindon) is the captain of a large firefighter group whose young son went missing a number of years ago.

What Ducournau does with TITANE is nothing less than astounding. You may see something onscreen or hear something that has you scratching your head, wondering why that was there, and a few minutes later, it becomes very aware in a way that makes you feel like the film respects you, as opposed to the film thinking it’s so clever.

It’s also surprisingly concise — apart from a few indulgent (with a reason) scenes, the film has very little fat. While at first that facet is a bit jarring, it creates a tempo that unnerves.

It’s impossible to discuss the film without noting how difficult it can be to watch, for a litany of reasons. I can’t remember the last time I so extensively averted my eyes from watching a film. However, those moments are not exploitative — they are meant to be uncomfortable, they are there for a reason. I simply felt that I was able to glean that reason by listening, instead of watching.

This is a work that film scholars will inevitably be discussing for some time to come, for better or for worse — frankly I’m still unpacking the film — but it is definitely memorable.

The trailer is properly enigmatic, but maybe don’t watch it if you’re going to see it within the next few days. (Slightly NSFW):

THE ARCHITECTURE OF FEAR (1987)

THE ARCHITECTURE OF FEAR — edited by Kathryn Cramer and Peter Pautz — is a very specific horror short-story anthology concerning architectural horror, horror that’s centered around interior structures. Take Shirley Jackson’s works, which are all classic horror texts that utilize houses in a multi-faceted way: from the looming paranormal events in THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE to the decay of the protagonists’ house in WE HAVE ALWAYS LIVED IN THE CASTLE, they’re pieces where the manufactured space factor heavily into the story.

I was worried that it’d simply be back-to-back haunted house pieces, which I’m not a huge fan of, but the anthology is richer than that. The short stories range the gamut from fairy tales (Gene Wolfe’s IN THE HOUSE OF GINGERBREAD) to meditations on barroom masculinity (John Skipp and Craig Spector’s GENTLEMEN), then leaping to chewing over forbidden, abandoned spaces (naturally, Joyce Carol Oates’ HAUNTING), then mulls over a funeral home worker dealing with the presentation of a corpse (Michael Bishop’s IN THE MEMORY ROOM).

It’s a surprisingly eclectic and substantial collection, and definitely one of the best horror anthologies I’ve read since the iconic BORDERLANDS anthologies. (Fun fact: THE ARCHITECTURE OF FEAR pre-dates them, and the BORDERLANDS anthologies are currently being re-issued! Sadly, not re-issued with the original Dave McKean cover art.)

Practically every story is memorable, but my favorites (including the previously mentioned shorts) were Scott Baker’s NESTING INSTINCT, which captures the odd feeling of settling into a foreign abode, and Jessica Amanda Salmonson’s THE HOUSE THAT KNEW NO HATE, which closes out the anthology, and subverts a lot of haunted house tropes. It reminded me a bit of the classic film THE ENCHANTED COTTAGE.)

Cramer & Pautz really swung for the fences with this anthology, and it shows with their respective afterword and foreward. This is an anthology that takes horror seriously, and gives the reader an exceptional collection of works that, while framed around interior spaces, encompasses a broader area of humanity.