Today is a really proud day for us at Dread Central. I’m not gonna bang our drum and say some self-indulgent shit like, “Hey! We have a DVD in stores! Go buy it!” While that is cool, there’s a far bigger picture which has us ecstatic. Beginning today… people will be introduced to a crop of incredible filmmakers who we believe can be the future of our genre; and we, along with Ruthless Pictures and RLJ/Image Entertainment, have the privilege of introducing them.
Dread Central has been fortunate enough to remain one of the only high-profile horror sites that has become relevant on our own terms. We have no parent company. We call our own shots and decide in which directions we want to head. We live and die by the fact that we want indie films to get just as much spotlight as the studio films. Everyone’s on a level playing field with us. As a result there’s been a lot of blood, sweat, and lord… nights, weeks, and months of tears. Just trying to find ways to keep our heads above water has been a monster-sized task, but we sacrificed and managed.
My partners, KW Low and Jon Condit, and I love what we do and love bringing you guys as much cool stuff that you may or may not have heard of as we can, and that’s why we do this. Jesse Baget of Ruthless Pictures was a missing piece of our puzzle. Here’s a guy who knows how to get movies out there… and like us… do so on his own terms with as much of an indie punk rock DIY attitude as you could imagine. We became fast friends, and that has led us all to Zombieworld.
Jesse and I? We see and get sent A LOT of indie flicks… especially short films. Some of them have blown us away. We also agreed that it was a crying shame that hardly anyone would ever get to see these little gems outside of YouTube or wherever they may have existed. Finding them would be akin to looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Then lightning struck. Why not compile them and put them out officially on home video? The idea took off in a flash, and within weeks we launched our Zombieworld call for entries.
Unless you’ve been following us every step of the way, you may have missed exactly what Zombieworld is. None of the short films included within the anthology was shot specifically for it. These are pre-existing short films from some of the most talented indie directors we’ve ever come across. Each one is different, and each holds its own. Given the over-saturation of zombie-themed entertainment, we wanted to offer some diversity to the package instead of the usual paint-by-numbers shit that’s shoved down our throats on a daily basis. There are films in Zombieworld that are funny, some that are sad, some that have that old EC Comics feel, and some that… well… have to be seen to really fully describe. The result is a package that’s as tonally uneven as it gets, but in a lot of respects that’s exactly what we were going for. If you’re not digging one style of short, don’t worry… there will be another flying at you in 5 minutes. One of the greatest joys for us has been listening to people who have seen it talk about which were there favorites. While some are pretty much universally loved by all, others have been rather surprising in their choices for best in show. It’s been a blast for us to hear about, and hopefully you’ll have as much fun deciding what works for you.
With all these great films from around the world, and yes, they really are from around the world, we needed something… some type of wraparound to tie it all together. Enter the always wonderful Bill Oberst, Jr. Like Vincent Price before him, Bill approaches every role with gusto and gives his all. No matter which film we’ve seen him in, he leaves it all on the screen. We’re lucky to have him working in the genre, and we are beyond lucky to have him be a part of this crazy-ass endeavor. Jesse directs Bill’s wraparound with manic sensibilities, and it’s impossible for us not to smile every second he’s on screen. Surrounding Bill is a playground designed by the uber-talented Zebediah De Soto which really brings the segment to life. It’s fun, it’s playful, and it’s as out there as anything you’ve likely ever seen.
That’s nothing though… the real stars and heroes of Zombieworld are the filmmakers who have allowed us to share their remarkable visions with the horror community on the grandest scale possible. Being able to shine the spotlight on these cats has been the greatest gift to us, and we hope that you guys, our readers, and the horror community as a whole will give them a shot to entertain you. We’re pretty damned certain they won’t let you down. Speaking for us, if just one of them, who are so very praise-worthy, goes on to do something really cool down the line and Zombieworld was the impetus for that, then we have done our job. Ten-fold even. In the end that’s what’s important… showing the world that there are filmmakers out there from all walks of life who have the vision to create something good that’s NOT stamped out of the same mold as the millions of other projects that have come and gone that no one cares about because they brought absolutely nothing new to the table.
Those movies thrive by playing it safe, and whether you like it or you don’t, the one thing I can assure you is that the last thing Zombieworld does is play it safe. Not even a little bit. This is a movie to throw on with your buddies while eating pizza and consuming whatever party favors you may have on hand. We sincerely hope that you have as much fun watching it as we did putting it together. The end… is… here. Revel in it!
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Maternal Madness: Why Pyewacket Is Lady Bird for Horror Fans
Please don’t read this editorial as an attempt to stoke the fires of horror classification and Oscar-worthy representation. Adam MacDonald’s Pyewacket is, so substantially, a child’s diary that’s shredded to bits during ritualistic sacrifice. Doors that should remain forever boarded are flung open with impulsive negligence, spared not by impunity as pitchfork-scarred figures charge towards the now unblocked opening. Generational unreset and Satan’s deceit lead a cacophonous moral charge, yet even amidst MacDonald’s familial kerfuffle, it takes little sleuthing to proclaim Pyewacket the horror genre’s answer to Greta Gerwig’s Best Picture Nominee Lady Bird.
This is an exercise in theme, tone and tale – plenty more, never less.
It is quite true that both projects differ in climax – one a heart-swelling reunion (Lady Bird), the other a black magic kiss of death (Pyewacket) – but neither narrative dismisses two deeply moving stories about maternal relations. Two intentionally blurry impressions (do you even know how being alive works?), both tremendously rich in their abilities to exploit the unpredictability of emotion and a parent’s eternal love. Each project’s young female protagonist thinks they’re being imprisoned, even mistreated, only to highlight the live-and-learn faults in misunderstanding. We were all kids once, and someday we’ll be parents too (if you choose). Look no further to find equal films that so honestly address both points of view – albeit it in uniquely separate ways.
Nicole Muñoz stars as Pyewacket’s Leah Reyes, your average goth-punk “outcast” who’s obsessed with occult practices. Her mother (played by Laurie Holden) is usually drunk or distraught, a hollow shell of herself ever since the death of Leah’s father. Mrs. Reyes reaches a point where she can no longer endure her current living arrangement so she decides to purchase a woodsy, secluded cabin (without haunting memories). Leah lashes out as any transplanted child would, even though Mrs. Reyes fairly keeps her enrolled in current schooling situations. Nevertheless, Leah turns to her ritualistic hobby and calls for the demon Pyewacket as a form of adolescent overreacting – a deadly curse that must be broken when imbalanced hormones subside in the dumbstruck youth.
Where Lady Bird takes the road more often traveled – a mother and daughter’s symbiotic tug-of-war that’s rooted in sarcastic loveliness – Pyewacket allows for something more malicious. This nightmare scenario where a teenager acts on momentary inhibitions to cause harm unto their parent. It’s that gut-punch family moment where a child screams “I WISH YOU WERE DEAD” from behind cascading tears because he or she isn’t allowed to stay up past 10:00 PM or something just as trivial – but MacDonald *actually* rationalizes such a heartless and empty gesture. This is, destructively, Pyewacket’s grinning premise – except without take-backsies. Extreme to the max, because horror’s most meaningful representations understand and exploit far-reaching depths of our most questionable experiences.
Imagine. Lady Bird is so honest, open and painstakingly enthralled by its flaws, but Pyewacket ups the game with a thick layer of Salem-scented dread. There’s no phone call that erases bitterness once Leah realizes her mother is just trying to do her best in an unspeakable situation. Pyewacket has been summoned from the woods and does not stop advancing – resurrected in anger, acting on ill wishes that can’t be erased. A demon that represents the materialization of dwelled-upon negative thoughts. One girl damned by the stigma of unforgiveness. I might argue that Pyewacket harbors a stronger bond for audiences to detect versus Lady Bird, if only because viewers can sense an *avoidable* (and horrific) end for one, maybe even two lives.
In throwing Laurie Holden and Laurie Metcalf comparisons around (both mamas), yes – it’s acknowledged that Holden portrays a more volatile arc. She’s grief-stricken, typically passing out whilst “enjoying” red wine or saying the wrong thing to her daughter. It’s never intentional, but emotions are so inherently complicated and subject to personal comprehension – something we often forget ourselves (like Leah does). She’s a strong girl who happens to find comfort in pentagram shapes and incantations. Her mother? Smashed to jagged pieces. But here she is trying to piece together a crumbled existence, asking her kin for help. The move isn’t an act of betrayal, it’s permission for understanding (much like how Lady Bird and her mother take everything personally). As (self-obsessed) children, it’s hard to see the big picture.
So important is a reminder that we’re all just sacks of flesh and cerebral neurons that are trying to make sense of infinite existential unknowns. Maturity provides no one an answer key. Metcalf’s decision to abstain from conversation when Saoirse Ronan flies away and Holden’s depleted capacity to “deal” are both neither “wrong” nor “right.” Good decisions? Hardly – but that’s not for you to say. I love this brand of steadfast imperfection because it allows for latter-act breakthroughs where two characters finally channel the same wavelength. Both stories trace these lines so incomparably well, which is an easy inclination of similarity. Pyewacket as vividly wounded as Lady Bird despite horror sadism.
MacDonald makes the most of his film’s satanic roots with heretic details. Leah’s Pyewacket awakening so researched (oil, milk, herbs, blood from her wrist, subject’s hair), her ensuing torments chilled to the bone. This, of course, is the biggest gap between Lady Bird and Pyewacket – Lady never had to fake sleeping while a midnight demon sat *on* her bedroom wall (downright paralyzing sight) – but that’s what gives Leah’s struggle its signature genre stench. There is no fear of pushing boundaries too far as a “wannabe Manson chick” must live with decisions poised to haunt her every waking hour – if they’re proven real (you better believe there’s a sick psychological duality at play).
Of course, Muñoz’s performance is just as important as Holden’s given the situation. How is a child with no worldly experience suppose to take her mother’s exclamation of “Moving on is impossible with your father’s face?” The weight here is heavy, with Muñoz dealt a much uglier hand given Ronan’s intermittent department store banter and more obvious hints of mixed messages. Leah’s HIM posters and Rowan Dove books (an occult writer she admires) are her safety net – an escape from depression. Lady Bird acts out in her own way, but for genre fans, this is a familiar trope – executed so beautifully by both MacDonald and his young starlet. Muñoz sells her angst, paranoia and teenage selfishness like a pro (ditto Ronan). Be careful, this is one of those feely, decadently rich emotional horror flicks some of y’all are afraid of (jk WATCH THIS MOVIE).
Am I using broad strokes to latch Gerwig’s California-hazed coming-of-age dramedy onto a movie about a malevolent spirit set free by a woefully unprepared child? Maybe, but not as blindly as you’d think. Both films run a tremendously relationship-driven undercurrent that evolves with analogous devotion, creepy Pyewacket chase sequence or not. Both proficiently understand parental dynamics (and fears), both highlight egregious Hollywood misconceptions about raising children and love, both connect messy characters through blood and experience – don’t be fooled by monsters in one and Timothée Chalamet in the other. Pyewacket is a brooding rumination on hasty decisions and stewing over perceptions we create ourselves, but also the power in coming-of-age – and the unknowingness that remains in adulthood.
Horror fans, do not skip out on such a genrefied dagger to the heart as Pyewacket – one marvelous movie about our human condition in horrific form. As tragically beautiful as is it cautiously forthcoming. Pure, bare-it-all art laced with the devil’s strongest brew.
Kip Weeks, Original Man in the Mask, Slashes The Strangers: Prey at Night
We need to quit the knee-jerk hatred towards sequels; recent follow-ups like Ouija: Origin of Evil, The Conjuring 2, and Annabelle: Creation prove that creative ideas and talented directors can exceed expectations set by an original.
But we can’t give sequels a free pass to be mediocre either. For example, the response to the follow-up to Bryan Bertino’s home invasion masterpiece, The Strangers: Prey at Night, recently debuted to extremely mixed reviews. Pessimists bemoan, “What did you expect? Most sequels are unabashed cash-grabs!” In the case of The Strangers, I expected a lot more.
Fans of the 2008 shocker have been clamoring for a sequel for years, but no one wanted the wait to end with the unceremonious dispatches of some of the 21st Century’s most iconic new villains. I’m talking about the titular Strangers themselves, the murderous trio dubbed Dollface, Pin-Up, and The Man in the Mask.
While attempts to give characters like Michael Myers and Leatherface backstories have backfired by turning manifestations of evil into melodramatic anti-heroes (thus demystified and deflating their sources of terror), such an endeavor isn’t always a liability. In the case of Prey at Night, it should have been considered a necessity. The first Strangers concluded with hints that Dollface was conflicted; simultaneously, the juxtaposition of Mormon missionaries hinted at cultish motivations (beyond the infliction of random acts of violence).
While the unknown was key to the terror of The Strangers, it was a one trick pony; the franchise could only flourish with an expansion of the implied mythology created in 2008. Of course, Prey director Johannes Roberts’ decision to assassinate these compelling masked invaders proves he really had no intention of turning Bertino’s original into a franchise, something that left me feeling extremely disheartened.
And I’m not the only one; among the lambasts of fans and critics comes a vocal response from the original Man in the Mask, Kip Weeks (replaced by Damian Maffei in Prey). I caught up with him after he chimed in on a negative review in Variety. And lest you think it’s a case of sour grapes, I wouldn’t be sharing his insights if I didn’t agree fully.
Dread Central: We were all bummed the original Strangers actors weren’t recast. Now that Prey at Night has premiered to mostly negative reviews, can we get your thoughts? Specifically, why does Prey fail where the original Strangers succeeded?
Kip Weeks: I had a long back and forth with one of the producers. I told him, “You destroyed an art form.”
DC: Did you give him any specifics?
KP: I told him: “You have no idea what it means to create a character from its core. You made a piece of shit, jump scare movie without realizing you had gold in your hands.”
DC: What should the producers have done differently?
KP: They could have made a movie about “The Strangers”: where they came from and why they became killers. Instead, they made it about some bullshit family and wasted Christina Hendricks’ acting skills. The fans wanted depth and story and honesty. They gave them shit.
Zena’s Period Blood: Pin Up the Period Blood
It can be difficult finding horror films of quality, so allow me to welcome you to your salvation from frustration. “Zena’s Period Blood” is here to guide you to the horror films that will make you say, “This is a good horror. Point blank. PERIOD.”
“Zena’s Period Blood” focuses on under-appreciated and hidden horror films.
Allow me to do a proper introduction for once.
Pin was directed by Sandor Stern and is based on the book by Andrew Neiderman. The film introduces us to Leon, an 8-year-old boy who believes that Pin, a medical dummy, is alive. Leon’s father, Dr. Linden, is a ventriloquist who projects his voice onto Pin and uses the dummy to teach his kids and patients about bodily functions. See, that was a modest introduction. I even made it seem like I was introducing a nice, little Goosebumps episode. But, no. THERE’S SEX. Sex played a huge part in this movie. They referred to it as “the need”. Freaking intelligent. They made it sound like it was as powerful as “the force” from Star Wars. Oddly enough, Leon’s younger sister Ursula, at the sprightful age of five, deduced that she was going to like “the need” as a teenager.
“The need” led to Ursula becoming pregnant at fifteen. Terrified, she confides in Leon for instruction whose bright idea is to talk to Pin. Yes, the medical dummy. Ursula reluctantly agrees to this absurd idea and discovers that 18-year-old Leon can also perform ventriloquism, although he believes Pin is truly speaking to him. The voice tells them to come clean to their father, who after being told performs the abortion of Ursula’s baby. This caught me completely by surprise. Abortion was not deeply debated in this movie, yet I still commended the bravery of Stern and Neiderman to include this. Nonetheless, here we see that even as a teenager, Leon relies on Pin to give him advice. Although Leon has developed his own ability of ventriloquism, he gives Pin the same personality that Dr. Linden gave the medical doll.
Before leaving to give a speech one night, Dr. Linden returns to his office to find Leon having a conversation with Pin, via ventriloquism. Observing his son’s psychosis, he takes Pin, insisting that he must use the doll in his speech. Unfortunately, on the way to the ceremony, Mr. and Mrs. Linden are killed in a car crash.
Okay, so far I’ve talked about five characters but said little regarding my feelings about the film. I must start with my adoration for the subtle hints given about each character’s personality. You never received a straight in-your-face revelation, like he’s the weirdo or she’s the slut. Still, the little hints instantly put you at ease with understanding these characters. There is nothing more annoying than spending thirty minutes with a character and having no idea what his or her motives are for their behaviors.
In addition to the characters, clever actions in the story often cloud you from foreseeing outcomes. For example, there could be a jacket picked up nonchalantly or a wristwatch given as a gift and you would think very little of it. The foreshadowing happened so casually that when you finally saw the significance of that prop or article of clothing, you were mesmerized at the calculated execution. It seemed like the entire crew was super competitive all while displaying immaculate teamwork. The unique screenplay coupled impeccably with stunning camerawork. A notable scene involved Ursula discussing Leon’s schizophrenia with her boyfriend Stan. We hear Stan behind the camera, but we see Ursula bickering in the foreground and simultaneously see a mirror in the background holding Leon’s reflection as he painfully listens behind a wall. You can tell that cinematographer Guy Dufaux meticulously walked each set to determine how best to tell the story. I love when a cinematographer and director take this much time to learn the screenplay and the sets. I also love the fact that Guy Dufaux had his wife help out on the movie set (she operated the clapper). This gleefully reminded me of my relationship with my husband. He and I work together now; but before, I used to go to his job and help him out from time to time. My primary task was to remind whores that their place in this world was anywhere but near him. While in these shops, I discovered that even elderly women over 102 years old can still have “the need”.
Now, I know you thought this was going to be a regular review. I even tried to give you a modest introduction (emember the “Goosebumps” thing). And yet, all of the previous information was presented to build a case for something. Sorry that you didn’t know you had been summoned to court, but we are here to discuss the case of Good Booty vs. Bad Booty. Let me explain: first, allow me to reintroduce you to Stan.
In the movie, Stan seemed to be a well-brought-up guy: nice looking, studious, the type of guy momma and poppa would be proud to see you bring home.
Let’s say we, like Ursula, are casually introduced to Stan.
Let’s say he spots us in the library like he spotted her.
We are a hot girl named, well, Ursula, sitting there, working in-between helping customers.
Stan figures he’d be polite and say hello.
Okay. The scene is set.
Is there something we should tell Stan? I mean, he’s admiring the booty already, right? Let me just get to the point. By this time in the movie, the viewer is already thinking or possibly yelling, “Stan, don’t do it, dude! Run like a bat out of hell, Stan. That is bad booty.”
Bad booty is simply defined as booty that is bad for you. By this time in the movie, we knew that (1) Ursula slept with majority of the football team, (2) her brother kicked a dude in the balls so hard that we poured out a bit of liquor for the dude’s balls because there’s no resurrecting dead balls, (3) her parents died in a car crash because her father was staring in the backseat at his medical dummy, and (4) her older brother’s best friend was the medical dummy who helped him kill their Aunt Dorothy. Now of course, Stan knew nothing about the booty before he approached it. But here is my point. ALWAYS STUDY THE BOOTY! Study it in detail before you fall in love with it. Question that booty. Background check that booty. Get it together, Stan. That booty had been through enough by this point in the movie that it was probably going to end up killing Stan, which it almost did. The lesson here is to always inspect the booty.
My husband acquired “Good Booty”. The only bad part about the booty is that my attention can be taken away with the snap of a finger. For example, I first watched this movie at work. It was supposed to be background noise and light peripheral fondling as I focused on important social media statistics. All of a sudden, the peripheral fondling seized my full attention. You know that moment when your mind has its own schizophrenic conversation? Pause this awesomeness and focus on work or pause the work and focus on this awesomeness? Well, that happened to me. Pin won.
All in all, I hope we all learned something today. Determine if the booty is good or bad. Men, protect your balls from potential NFL kickers. If your five-year-old says she has “the need,” you might want to listen. And last but not least, Pin is a remarkable movie. Point blank. PERIOD.
In addition to contributing to Dread Central, Zena Dixon has been writing about all things creepy and horrific for over six years at RealQueenofHorror.com. She has always loved horror films and will soon be known directing her own feature-length horror. Feel free to follow her on Twitter @LovelyZena.
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