A Horror Master on why the Genre will Live Forever

©TheHorrorMaster

©TheHorrorMaster

I couldn’t not post about this one. My love affair with the films of John Carpenter goes way back to the days of dusty old video stores and those rental VHS tapes in big, squidgy boxes. It reached fever pitch when I was lucky enough to enjoy a run of his movies on the big screen, a personal highlight being Prince of Darkness (i had bruises on my arm from my poor terrified date after that one, let me tell you!). I was a gibbering fanboy mess after seeing his talk/screening on the films of Howard Hawks at the National Film Theatre (he smoked liked a gunslinger throughout). And yes, I am one of the few who enjoyed Ghosts of Mars and rocked up to see The Ward on release day – so sue me, even when his movies are slightly below par they still rock my world.

It’s heartening to know that Carpenter is out there, still doing it (this time in comic book form with a Big Trouble in Little China spin-off). And when I read this interview, I just had to share it. Here’s a choice cut:

“Horror is the most durable genre in cinema,” Carpenter says. “It’s outlasted the Western, it’s outlasted the musical, it’s outlasted all sorts of genres.”

“It will live forever.”

Amen to that, Master Carpenter. Read on for more of his insights here, and follow the great man on Twitter @TheHorrorMaster.

Long live John Carpenter! And long live horror!

 

 

In praise of: Whistle and I’ll Come to You

20140102-210824.jpg

I really fell in love with the ghost stories of M. R. James while lurking in a sentry box, dressed as a Victorian serial killer (they wore top hats apparently), ready to jump out on unsuspecting tourists with an exclamation of “tickets please!”

Let me explain.

I worked weekends at The London Dungeon to help pay my way through college in the early 90s. To pass the time during each shift i sometimes listened to audiobooks, sneakily hiding my headphones beneath my costume. These were the days of books-on-tape, or cassettes (which, to explain to younger readers, were like mp3 files stretched across two reels of dental tape and listened to via an iPod device the size of a house brick). One of the audiobooks was a collection of M. R. James tales read by Michael Hordern. I had read a couple of James’ classics and knew i was in for a flesh-creeping time – and then i heard “The Ash Tree”. By the gods my heart nearly stopped in my chest at that one and for once it was me who got a fright when the tourists came asking for directions.

I then discovered the telly adaptations of some of James’ tales, presented by the BBC each Christmas. The tradition continued into the new millenium with a series of Christopher Lee-narrated adaptations, which i enjoyed during Christmas hols in the wilds of Ireland. And of course just last month, Mark Gatiss made his directorial debut with his fun, Hammer-esque M. R. James adaptation “The Tractate Middoth”.

But the one that got to me the most was “Whistle…” And to my delight, Father Christmas (or perhaps his pal Krampus) left a copy of the BFI’s double bill dvd “Whistle and I’ll Come to You” under the tree for me this year. The disc includes both the 1968 and 2010 versions, plus extras featuring contemporary master of the macabre, Ramsey Campbell. I’ve seen both versions before of course – and both are beloved to me in different ways. I think one exploits shaky denial in the face of fear and the other channels total, harrowing despair. If you haven’t seen them, do seek them out. But (ahem) a warning to the curious… both are utterly disturbing in the true spirit of James’ original short story “Oh Whistle and I’ll Come to You My Lad” (also included in audio form as a nice bonus on the dvd – now all i need is a draughty sentry box. The garden shed will have to do).

Here’s to the traditional festive ghost story – long may they continue to scratch at our windowpanes, rattle our doors.

And tangle with our bedsheets.

R.I.P. Syd Field

20131118-135755.jpg
There it is then, the first book i ever bought and read on screenwriting. It was written by Syd Field, who has passed away aged 77.

If you told me back then that i’d someday be teaching university classes using some of Field’s theories i’d never have believed you. But then i’d never have believed it possible that i’d be a produced screenwriter either, if not for the inspiration i gained from Syd Field and his book.

Today, i raise a cup of coffee in salute to the man who was such a legend that he even had ‘PLOT PNT’ on the license plate of his car.

Syd, you were one of a kind and you’ll be missed. Here’s to you.

FADE OUT:

The End.

Hampden House of Horror

I live in the UK, in the leafy county of Buckinghamshire, and (as anyone who has read my books will know) I derive a lot of inspiration from the local landscape. Eagle eyed readers familiar with my neck of the woods will spot my local Christmas tree plantation within the pages of ‘The Jack in the Green‘ and the dank passageways of Hellfire Caves in the third act of ‘The Lamplighters‘. I was out jogging this morning on the steep sylvan slopes of ‘The Lucifer Glass‘ and it reminded me how much inspiration I glean from the places I frequent (it also reminded me how out of shape I am after long hours behind the writing desk, but that’s perhaps another story).

It was Fathers’ Day here in Blightly a few weeks ago, and my family and I decided to pack a picnic and head out in the drizzle somewhere. As it was ‘my’ day I got to choose the destination, and so I opted for a place that has been something of a lifelong icon for me – Hampden House.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Hammer Films took (eek!) possession of the building in 1979 and made it the company’s base of operations until 1982. During that period, Hammer moved into telly and filmed several episodes of Hammer House of Horror and Hammer House of Mystery and Suspense in and around the building and environs.

As a youngster, I was raised on a strict diet of Hammer Horror movie double bills. Later, at the tender age of 11, it was the turn of the TV series to creep the hell out of me, especially the episode with the gnarly-fingernailed hitchhiker…and the werewolf episode complete with pregnant wolf-mother scoffing chopped liver as she drove to the obligatory house in the woods.

As we sat opposite the very house that appeared in those hallowed opening titles, eating our sandwiches in the rain I realized how lucky I am to have such amazing, inspiring places on my doorstep.

So join me in raising a plastic Thermos cup of lukewarm tea in a toast to a little inspiration.

It goes a long way.

What are the places that inspire you, and why? Comment below please!