Best of the Decade - Horror

The horror genre has had a particularly anemic decade. Vampires - which starter the decade on a strong note during the heyday of Buffy - now occupy the shameful realm of teen heartthrobs. The trend of remaking horror classics that Gus Van Sant pioneered in 1999 with Psycho bravely marches forward, having claimed The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Omen, The Wicker Man, The Hills Have Eyes, House of Wax and many many more as victims (on the upcoming slate is Suspiria, and for that I'll have to cut a bitch.) Worse still, Hollywood has found a way - dozens really - to make zombies lame. Oh, and torture porn has achieved mainstream respectability, which I'm sure art house theaters would have loved to see happen 35 years ago when it was actually kind of interesting.

And that's why it was almost impossible for me to find 10 films from these last 10 years worth singling out for my column de jour. In fact, the bottom 5 on my list I don't find scary in the slightest, which I would normally consider criteria for great horror films to be. Hell, #10 is practically cheating, but there really was nothing else I would have felt OK with filling its spot with. Not surprisingly, the majority of this list is foreign. Only 3 of the 10 are American, and one of those comes from an Austrian director remaking his own film in specifically to lash out at American audiences. I could bitch and moan some more about how this batch just doesn't stack up to what my 10 from the 60s or 70s would look like, but in all actuality, there's some damn fine films here. Something for everyone, at that. Even you torture porn fanatics.

10. Shaun of the Dead (dir. Edgar Wright)
Cheating, I know. It's got as much place on a best horror film list as Young Frankenstein, but the thought that my 10th spot might have to go to The Ring was scarier than these ten movies combined, and frankly I couldn't handle that. So instead, as a compromise, I'll give credit to one of my favorite comedies of the decade and get my obligatory zombie movie out of the way straight off the bat. Hot Fuzz is still better, maybe even scarier, but at least here we get to see Harry Potter's guts get tossed around like a kid discovering spaghetti for the first time.

9. The Orphanage (dir. Juan Antonio Bayona)
Ok, again not so scary, save for a handful of memorably creepy images like Little Baghead above. But holding the film together is a gripping ghost story that doesn't take the easy way out. And ghost stories are never scary anyway, so I had my expectations in check right from the start. Totally worth checking out, regardless if you're a horror fan or not.

8. Trouble Every Day (dir. Claire Denis)
Two of the scariest things I can think of are cannibalism and Vincent Gallo. And here the two are perfectly paired, except of course that means we have to watch Gallo slunk around Paris at length and he's just uneasy on the eyes. But by chance he crosses paths with a sexy lady cannibal and it's like a match made in a Peter Greenaway film. That's right, cannibal erotica. The pacing is comparable to watching blood red paint dry, which means you'll probably fall asleep before anyone starts gnawing on each other, but it's certainly stuck with me and I'm happy to give it a spot on this list.

7. Shadow of the Vampire (dir. E. Elias Merhige)
A revisionist take on F. W. Murnau's production of the classic to end all horror classics, Nosferatu. The supposition is a simple one - what if Max Shreck, legendary portrayed of Murnau's Count Orlock, was really himself a vampire? As crew corpses start turning up, suspiciously sucked dry, the production woes pile higher and deeper. It's a blast to watch, especially for those familiar with the original Nosferatu or Werner Herzog's equally creepy 1979 remake.

6. The Host (dir. Bong Joon-ho)
I probably could have kicked this a few notches higher. I think it may be a better film than the next three to follow, but I'm critiquing fright value here to some degree and this doesn't get under my skin like quite like any of the top 5 do. Instead, it's a delicate balance of horror, comedy, family drama and environmental commentary that works against all odds.

5. Funny Games (dir. Michael Haneke)
There's no natural place on any list for Funny Games, in either incarnation, to show up without seeming a little out of place. Maybe though, a list of horror films is its most natural habitat. Because it's nothing if not deeply terrifying, largely because it doesn't play by the rules. Like in the way Brecht didn't. It's more an experiment on the moral threshold of audiences than a film as we perceive it, and having already seen the German original (Haneke's earlier film, which he remade here shot for shot) I was all to eager to catch this in theaters, just to see how an actual audience would react. Stunned silence might be the term for it.

4. Audition (dir. Takashi Miike)
Along with the entry to follow, Audition is the worst date movie humanly imaginable. It's not boring, but the whole affair is most definitely a slow burn. It all builds to an excruciating fireworks show of bodily mutilation, and is pretty much guaranteed to stifle your Asian fantasies for at least a few months.

3. Antichrist (dir. Lars von Trier)
What's scarier than possessed woodland creatures? Satan. What's scarier than Satan? Willem Dafoe. Scarier than Willem Dafoe? Willem Dafoe's bloody penis. Scarier than the bloody penis? Women. Yeah, that's pretty much how this one goes. It's oddly less effective than von Trier's best films this decade, but it does the job. Scary as hell.

2. Bug (dir. William Friedkin)
Miss-marketing caused a host of problems for this film in the first place, but even if the general public wasn't quite sold on the horror inherent in Bug, there's no film from the past 10 years that makes my skin crawl quite like this. It's a portrait of mental deterioration of the caliber of Repulsion, and it may even be Friedkin's best film to date. The intensity of the final act is a thing of wonder.

1. The Descent (dir. Neil Marshall)
Six women descend into a cave, where they battle claustrophobia, an army of Gollums (is that the plural of Gollum? Who knows?) and their own primal instincts. You can actually feel the rock walls closing in around you, the air growing stale, and the raising fear and tension among the girls. It's the single most terrifying film to come out of the last 10 years, and I realize that's not saying much, but it's at least worthy of being mentioned in the same gasp as the likes of The Thing, Suspiria and The Shining. Sadly, I see that a sequel is in the works. Sigh.

Best of the Decade - Documentaries

And the lisztomania begins. It's part of my new year's resolution to update this lovely little corner of the interweb a little more frequently, and it also serves to kill some time before my top 50 films of the Naughts list is ready to go public. My goal is to post my ranked favorites among the typical range of performances, genres and technical categories, and while I'm at it for screenplays and directors, before capping it all off with the big movie list. There will be commentary where I'm moved to do so, but some of these categories inspire far less words.

I'll launch things with my genre awards, and in this first decade of the 2000s, not all genres are created equal. Horror films have never been in such a sorry state. Musicals are back, except really, they're not. Animation is changing, for better and for worse. Fantasy has gained respectability, and with it, has produced as many god-awful failures as it has near-masterpieces - quite a number more, actually. And the only genre I intend to cover that I think has had a fantastic past 10 years is documentary. For that reason, let's go ahead and start with that one. Because today my glass is half full.

10. Encounters at the End of the World (dir. Werner Herzog)
There's no one working in Documentary - nor in the filmmaking business in general - who can see the world quite like Werner Herzog. That's of course why he's all over today list. And aside from Encounters marking a personal milestone for him, he's the only filmmaker to have made a film on every continent, it's also a gorgeous and haunting exploration of the furthest corner of the world. Plus, it's a giant bitchslap to March of the Penguins and how could you not love that?

9. Bowling for Columbine (dir. Michael Moore)
Michael Moore strikes the perfect tonal balance that he managed in Roger and Me, and it's a shame his comic stunts have driven his more recent films further away from the effectiveness that Bowling For Columbine had.

8. The Beaches of Agnes (dir. Agnes Varda)
For the eyes of those familiar with the French New Wave only, but it's a lovely watch if you've had the pleasure. Varda recreates dream images on a picaresque beach and explores her history, so inextricably tied to that most famous of film movements. Her introspection comes off far better in this context than in her earlier The Gleaners and I.

7. Man on Wire (dir. James Marsh)
How marvelous that this single act of a death-defying tight rope walk across the Twin Towers can hold such taught anticipation through a feature length film. Marsh builds suspense through the almost-as-impressive story of how such a feat was planned, and the extended segment of the crossing dares you to blink. Michael Nyman's collection of Peter Greenaway scores are recycled to arresting results.

6. The Fog of War (dir. Errol Morris)
Robert S. McNamera ruminates on camera for an hour and a half and we hang on every word. His wisdom is often as frightening as it is enlightening, and Errol Morris puts us face to face with this giant of the cold war in one of the most intimate documentaries ever made. The Philip Glass score sets a bleak mood.

5. Capturing the Friedmans (dir. Andrew Jarecki)
The film that first introduced me to the power that a well-made documentary can really have. It penetrates a family torn apart by multiple incidents of child molestation and masterfully guides the viewer to inevitable conclusions. Troubling, but powerful.

4. The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (dir. Seth Gordon)
Continuing the idea of what unexpected things documentary can accomplish, how about The King of Kong? A humble suburban dad vying for the title of highest score in the arcade classic Donkey Kong is thrown into a classic battle of good vs. evil as he faces of with hot sauce mogul Billy Mitchell, the reigning champion who comes complete with nerd minions. The story may be shamelessly manipulated, but you'd be daft not to know that from the get-go. There's still a place for great story-telling in the world of documentaries. A fictional adaptation could never be quite as fun as this.

3. Grizzly Man (dir. Werner Herzog)
It's no surprise that Timothy Treadwell, ranking among the most batshit crazy human beings to ever declare war on the laws of nature, drew Werner Herzog to his story. He falls right in line with every classic Herzog protagonist from Aguirre to Fitzcarraldo. His end is tragic, if inevitable, but Herzog for once comes across as the voice of reason, indicting Treadwell's delusional lifestyle and calling for us to do the same.

2. My Winnipeg (dir. Guy Maddin)
Not a documentary, you say? I respectfully disagree. Sure, Guy Maddin's darkly humorous essay on his hometown is built around fabrication, but he's just telling tall tales, and they all have roots in the colorful stereotypes that one can't help but laugh about from their childhood surroundings. We see Winnipeg as Maddin recreates it for us, and if it's not a documentary on the city itself, then it still accounts for us the impression it left upon him. Murky territory I suppose, but many of my favorite docs push the definition of the genre (F For Fake, Sans Soliel, Koyaanisqatsi) and this falls right in their company.

1. The White Diamond (dir. Werner Herzog)
Yes, Werner Herzog rightly deserves his three spots on this list, and the best of his documentaries practically stands as one of the best of his films period. More uplifting than Grizzly Man, The White Diamond still chronicles one man's obsessions while adding in a longstanding quite for atonement. A scientist helms an expedition of the South American tree canopy with his shining white airship, designed with the exploration of a secluded waterfall in mind. Few images from the past decade leave the impression of the airship drifting through the misty air, or of one member of the crew gracefully moonwalking on a ledge above the falls. It's as powerful as any film I've seen, fictional or documentary, and even coming out of a strong decade, this was handily my top choice.

Best of the Decade - Albums

Coming up with favorite albums of the decade turned out to be far easier than songs. Choosing between one song and another often seemed arbitrary, but albums aren't as fleeting, and the following all left quite an impression on me. I was going to go with 25, but apparently I can only upload 20 pictures per post, so 20 entries it will be.

Without further ado, my 20 favorite albums of the last ten years.

20. Saturdays = Youth
M83













19. Santogold
Santogold












18. Electric Version
The New Pornographers













17. The Fame Monster
Lady Gaga











16. Ágaetis Byrjun
Sigor Rós













15. The Execution of All Things
Rilo Kiley












14. Speakerboxx/The Love Below
Outkast













13. Let's Get Out of This Country
Camera Obscura












12. Beirut
The Flying Club Cup













11. Vampire Weekend
Vampire Weekend












10. Home
Dixie Chicks













9. The Reminder
Feist












8. Kala
M.I.A.













7. Oracular Spectacular
MGMT












6. Extraordinary Machine
Fiona Apple













5. Fox Confessor Brings the Flood
Neko Case












4. Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
The Flaming Lips













3. Challengers
The New Pornographers












2. Funeral
Arcade Fire












1. Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea
PJ Harvey

Best of the Decade - Songs

Poor planning on my part landed myself right in the middle of a top 100 films project in the midst of any listophiliac's virgin spring - the closing of a decade. That's a once in a blue moon excuse to pound out lists on the best (and the worst, why discriminate?) of everything the last 10 years have served up. So while I'll deliver false promises to you about my diligent work on my Top 100 films, the truth is that I've not been rewatching much of anything lately. Instead, I've been catching up on my cultural blindspots of the aughts (That is what they are, these past 10 years. Or maybe not, but I've gotta stick to something).

And contrary to past history, this blog is about more than just movies. Or at least I founded it on those pretenses. Ostensibly, I listen to a whole lot of music, and television and I are on better terms than we used to be (only on dvd though). Ergo, I have an excuse to post my favorites of the aughts, across all mediums - except books 'cause I read old shit - and you can skim through these boring paragraphs and get right to the rankings, because honestly that's all any of us care about anyway.

Note, however, that only my opinions on movies are infallible. And we'll be starting with music, so feel free to register your disapproval on this one. Positive feedback is acceptable as well, but far more boring to read.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade

50. Island in the Sun - Weezer
49. All The Single Ladies - Beyonce
48. Rockin' the Suburbs - Ben Folds
47. The Fear - Lily Allen
46. Why Do You Let Me Stay Here - She & Him
45. Time to Pretend - MGMT
44. Portions For Foxes - Rilo Kiley
43. Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand
42. Feel Good Inc. - Gorillaz
41. All For Swingin' You Around - The New Pornographers

40. Through the Wire - Kanye West
39. Strange Overtones - David Byrne & Brian Eno
38. Love Today - Mika
37. Fidelity - Regina Spektor
36. Jesus Etc. - Wilco
35. O Saya - A R Rahman & M.I.A.
34. I Don't Feel Like Dancin' - Scissor Sisters
33. Let's Get Out of This Country - Camera Obscura
32. If the Brakeman Turns My Way - Bright Eyes
31. Good Fortune - PJ Harvey

30. Disturbia - Rihanna
29. Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes
28. Pavlov's Bell - Aimee Mann
27. My Girls - Animal Collective
26. Las De La Intuicion - Shakira
25. Chicago - Sufjan Stevens
24. Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) - Arcade Fire
23. Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
22. Dog Days Are Over - Florence and the Machine
21. Lights Out - Santogold

20. Missed the Boat - Modest Mouse
19. Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Part 1 - The Flaming Lips
18. Your Cover's Blown - Belle and Sebastien
17. Come into My World - Kylie Minogue
16. A Better Son/Daughter - Rilo Kiley
15. The Bleeding Heart Show - The New Pornographers
14. 1234 - Feist
13. French Navy - Camera Obscura
12. Crazy - Gnarls Barkley
11. Hold On, Hold On - Neko Case

10. Bad Romance - Lady Gaga
Like Gaga herself, a work of abstract art. Baroque, beautiful and utterly infectious.

9. Hounds of Love - The Futureheads
The best cover song of the decade? Not just that, the vocal play going on is nothing short of incredible.

8. Digital Love - Daft Punk
Eerily appropriate for a decade under the influence of digital pursuits.

7. All My Friends - LCD Soundsystem
Somewhere between graduating and growing up in general, this song attained an unexpected level of significance to me.

6. Rebellion (Lies) - Arcade Fire
It's a murky plunge into the band's greatest aural tour-de-force.

5. Travelin' Soldier - Dixie Chicks
Heartfelt, graceful, and absolutely the best American song of the decade. Sorry haters.

4. Electric Feel - MGMT
A sublime and hallucinatory experience. A song fueled by so many drugs that even the most casual listener will be whisked along on the trip.

3. Hey Ya - Outkast
Try as they might, no amount of radio saturation can kill this groove.

2. Myriad Harbor - The New Pornographers
A love letter to New York as great as any of Woody Allen's finest.

1. Paper Planes - M.I.A.
It feels both personal and universal, the beat is damn-near unstoppable, and having so firmly embedded itself into the culture of these last few years, there's no song more deserving of the top honors. I welcome this song anywhere; on an iPod, on the dance floor, or in Slumdog Millionaire. It could hold its own against my favorites from any other decade, so that's a sign that this is the right choice.


I'd have to guess that my choice for #10 will raise the most eyebrows. Anyhow, fire away.

Chaos Reigns in the Fantastic Mr. Fox!

Hello my (theoretical) readers,
I've been away for some weeks, finishing up the dreaded graduate school applications, and so progress on my top 100 and posting all together has come to a screeching halt. But it's over now, and I wasn't being entirely productive, because I still managed to squeeze in a bounty of 2009 releases, the quality of which I will update you on...now:

Bright Star
Bright Star is the story of John Keats - before death made him poet extraordinare - and the woman who through no particularly remarkable qualities informs and inspires his work up until death. Tenderly made and carried by two evocative performances by Abby Cornish and Ben Whishaw, Jane Campion's latest has one unfortunate blight upon it, and that would be the bombastic Paul Schneider. Of course, I realize that's just how his character was, but he intrudes upon almost every scene of the film and he's just too insufferable for me to find the slightest pleasure in these (many) moments. He is loud and boorish, and never comes to a satisfying end, and the film is much worse for his presence. But...the film does enough else right for this not to be a total drag. Recommended, but with just the one notable reservation.

The Limits of Control

Jim Jarmusch sends Isaac De Bankole on an assassin's odyssey by way of a series of representatives of an enraged art community. At least that's the idea I got from it all, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself right up to the end - when of all things - I think Jarmusch gives us one line too many towards a possible elucidation. But the whole ordeal is pretty fascinating, and though very little happens in the way of plot, every odd rendezvous was interesting enough on its own terms. If I stop short of loving it, it's because for all the intrigue, I'm not convinced there's a whole lot going on here. Still, there's worse things to be than slight, and if you generally like what Jarmusch serves up, you won't be wasting your time here.

An Education
It's an absolute delight through and through. The story comes out of Britain in the early 1960s and centers on a sharp young girl with her sights set on Oxford. The unforeseen obstacle here becomes the nearly 30 year old man she meets and begins seeing, seducing her with the aristocratic tastes and charms she's always dreamed of. Carey Mulligan is magnetic and sophisticated and lovely without being some model for perfection. I do think when my mind's at last made up that she'll have given my favorite performance of the year. The film wouldn't be the joy that it is without her presence. But everyone else does admirably as well. Alfred Molina, Peter Sarsgaard and Rosamund Pike all deserve loads of credit, but the best supporting performance is easily Olivia Williams as the icy, but well-meaning, school teacher. Seeing this during the final throes of my grad school application process was perfect timing, and the whole film is smart, stylish and kind of invigorating. Among the finest I've seen thus far in 2009.

The Fantastic Mr. Fox
And today I got around to my long-anticipated next installment of Wes Anderson's oeuvre. I loved it, not as much as The Royal T's, but loved seems an appropriate word. The voice-work is uniformly excellent with my favorite turns coming from Jason Schwartzman and Michael Gambon. Clooney is great, and not distracting at all, considering you know it's his voice propping up the character. The single best thing the film has going for it though is Anderson's style, which slips right on into the animated world quite effortlessly. From the camera movements to the music, it's the same Wes we know from before, and how great his style looks in stop motion! So The Fantastic Mr. Fox will be the third animated film this year (after Ponyo and Coraline) that I'm rooting for to kick Up's ass in the animated feature category at the Oscars. And unlike the other two, this may actually have a chance at doing just that.

Lars von Trier & His Fantastic Talking Fox

I could have spent Saturday afternoon shopping in downtown Chicago, or watching the Michigan State game at a local tavern, but no, I decided to stop into The Music Box and witness Charlotte Gainsbourg frolic in the forest with a demonic fox before inflicting graphic genital mutilation on her husband (the ever-so-creepy Willem Dafoe) and herself. So basically, I’m glad I saw Antichrist alone, because I was at least aware of what I was getting myself into.

Lars von Trier seems bound to leave his misanthropic stamp on every genre. Dancer in the Dark is the most harrowing musical you’ll ever see, Boss of it All is his attempt at comedy, and it seems that his next project will see the great Dane take on science fiction. Antichrist, of course, is horror, and in the sorriest decade that genre has ever seen, it’s damn near one of the best. The chilling cinematography leaves no room for sunshine. The muted colors and slow motion shots render us in the perpetual haze that follows unspeakable tragedy – in this case the death of a child – and the handheld camera is perfectly suited to the instability of Gainsbourg’s character. And more on her fierce performance; it’s easily the best to come out of a horror film since Shelly Duvall played a similarly abused woman in The Shining.

Except Gainsbourg is not sympathetic. She’s as crazy as her husband is arrogant, and the mutual destruction that they bring upon each other seems deserved. And that begins to get at why I didn’t quite love the film, even if I greatly appreciated it. The third chapter is titled Despair, a feeling I walked away from Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark feeling in spades (Dogville had it too, but there the despair turned quickly to perverse satisfaction). But though the He and She of Antichrist undeniably feel this weight upon them, the feeling never reached through the screen and seized me. That is because unlike von Trier’s afore mentioned films, there’s no empathy to go around here. Both husband and wife are terrible people, and as I watched them slowly, if brutally, destroy each other, I could only think how right it all seemed. Yet my hatred could have been stronger, it didn’t come close to the contempt I felt for the residents of Dogville, and so somewhere in all this, the film lost a bit of the impact I was expecting it to have. I realize it’s not fair to expect the same emotional punches, only delivered with distinct flair, from every von Trier film, but I can’t help but thinking that much of my reaction here came from the graphic nature of the images. I’ve toyed with comparisons to the Saw films, but it’s impossibly better than those. The direction is impeccable, even if it is second tier von Trier, and the performances he manages to elicit from Gainsbourg and Dafoe are startling. And there’s much more to it than shock and gore, though that’s no doubt what you’ll walk away remembering (that, and the final shot).

But you know, although I liked it well enough, I can’t honestly give it my endorsement. I imagine I’m among the few who wouldn’t fall on one extreme or another in regards to Antichrist. If you already wanted to see it, then you probably should. But if it didn’t look like your cup of tea in the first place, then let me assure you that it definitely is not. Funny enough, what might justify the existence of the entire movie is the dedication tacked on after the last image fades to black. After two of the bleakest hours I’ve had in some time, I needed a good laugh on my way out the door.

Tristan's Annual Horror Movie Marathon

Every year when October creeps around my Netflix queue gets set to horror for the month. I got a late start this year on account of my New York trip, but I still covered a respectable amount of ground. Unfortunately, Nightmare on Elm Street never shipped despite hanging at the top of my queue all month, and I may have to resign myself to watching it some time when it's in less demand. But allow me to power through the odd assortment of horror/thriller/and otherwise spooky films I did manage to catch.

Bram Stoker's Dracula (Francis Ford Coppola, 1992): Coppola pulls off overindulgence better than anyone since Sternberg. Gary Oldman, Richard E. Grant, Cary Elwes and Tom Waits understand this, and they're wonderful. Winona Ryder and Keanu Reaves don't, and oh my are they terrible.

The Cat O'Ninetails (Dario Argento, 1971): Dario Argento is officially my favorite horror director. He's still getting warmed up here, but the mood he sets is beyond creepy. Ennio Morricone's score sure helps too.

The Company of Wolves (Neil Jordan, 1984): Little Red Riding Hood battles werewolves and her own burgeoning sexual desires. Count me in.

Coraline (Henry Selick, 2009): Proof that Selick is what made The Nightmare Before Christmas something to marvel at, not Tim Burton (although I guess The Corpse Bride already told us that).

Dead Alive (Peter Jackson, 1992): A fun and freaky bloody mess of a film. The last forty minutes sustains a mind-boggling bloodfest that escalated well beyond the point of insanity.

Don't Torture A Duckling (Lucio Fulci, 1972): My first Fulci film. Predictable, but another worthy foray into giallo for me.

Drag Me To Hell (Sam Raimi, 2009): It's good to know that Raimi can still pull off his Evil Dead style tricks, but the end didn't quite work for me. Alison Lohman sure is a trooper though.

Hercules in the Haunted World (Mario Bava, 1961): It's visually quite eerie and gorgeous, but I can't get over how terrible the script is. I can deal with the bad dubbing, but the dialogue really lets this one down.

The Horror of Dracula (Terence Fisher, 1958): Christopher Lee makes a wonderful Drac. Otherwise, it's a just another solid adaptation of the horror classic.

In the Mouth of Madness (John Carpenter, 1995): John Carpenter has such a great eye for horrifying imagery. There's a bit too much of the "why won't anyone believe what I just saw?" for my liking, but all the Lovecraftian frills more than made up for that.

Near Dark (Kathryn Bigelow, 1987): One of the best vampire movies I've ever seen. High energy, great performances, and a refreshing take on the genre.

Phenomena (Dario Argento, 1985): The script is fairly bad and Jennifer Connelly isn't a good enough actress to rise above bad material, but damn, Argento can still craft a masterful horror film even with these setbacks. There's some frightening set pieces and a few hilarious ones too (intentionally so). It didn't really kick in until the second half, but I highly enjoyed this by the end.

Ravenous (Antonia Bird, 1999): Cannibalism is creepy enough as it is, but I've always liked it best when served with a Michael Nyman score. The film is frightening, but it wisely keeps a good sense of humor about all the grisly details. Robert Carlyle turns in a wonderfully villainous performance.

Spider (David Cronenberg, 2003): Admirably acted and directed, though considerably less daring than I'd hoped for from Cronenberg. Still, I think I liked it more than his other films this decade.

Wait Until Dark (Terence Young, 1967): Very well written, and certainly unsettling. However, I think in the adaptation from stage to screen, something further could have been done to highlight the horror of living in constant darkness (from being blind). Both Alan Arkin and Audrey Hepburn were quite good.


That makes 15 films, so I think that calls for a mini-awards session. Based on my recent horror film viewing:

Best Male Performance: Robert Carlyle - Ravenous
Best Female Performance: Sarah Patterson - The Company of Wolves
Best Scare: the surprise beheading - Phenomena
Best Scene: The bar fight - Near Dark (RU, the whole bloody party scene - Dead Alive)
Best Screenplay: Ravenous
Best Music: Ennio Morricone - The Cat O'Ninetails
Best Art Direction: Bram Stoker's Dracula
Best Director: Kathryn Bigelow - Near Dark (RU, Francis Ford Coppola - Bram Stoker's Dracula)
Best Horror Film: Ravenous (RU, Near Dark)