Tuesday, 24 November 2020

Masters of Horror

An appetite for Horror has stuck with me in November. I decided to follow my October Horror Marathon with a run of the remaining 'Masters of Horror' episodes that I hadn't yet seen. By chance this coincided with the show's 15th anniversary, which was recently marked by show creator Mick Garris on his Post Mortem podcast.

Until this month, I had seen 20 of the 26 episodes that were made over two seasons of the show from 2005 to 2007. I never managed to watch all of the broadcast episodes and set out to finish the series for the sake of completion. Perhaps I was too focussed on the "must see" episodes by the filmmakers I most revered or put off by some of the weaker entries. Having finally got through the whole set of episodes and with 20/20 hindsight I can see how the show went from being a major event to what some saw as a squandered opportunity. 

I still remember the excitement I felt about the show when it was announced in 2005. At this point I was probably at the peak of my Horror fandom. Horror seemed alive and dangerous again after the genre had fallen out of favour with mainstream audiences in the early 1990s. There were exceptions of course, but while they didn't hide their gruesome side some of the more notable crowd-pullers of this time had been marketed with a classier sheen and big stars. The Silence of the Lambs was presented to audiences as a superior thriller and Bram Stoker's Dracula (tagline: "Love Never Dies") played up its gothic romance. Generally speaking it was a rather dormant stage in the genre's evolution. This was marked by diminishing box office clout and franchise fatigue, which was fairly evident in titles like Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday, Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare, Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation and Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers. That all changed when 1996's Scream became a phenomenon that would lead to a significant revival of interest in scary movies and this was further cemented by two runaway hits in 1999 - The Sixth Sense and The Blair Witch Project. Both of these enjoyed a cultural and commerical impact that confounded even the wildest expectations. At the start of the millennium, films like Ginger Snaps and May convinced me that Horror was once again entering an exciting phase. Working in a video store at the time I found a growing number of low budget, foreign and independent genre titles that grabbed my attention. I attended Frightfest screenings quite reguarly and showings of Freddy vs. Jason and Seed of Chucky from the same period were some of the best cinemagoing experiences I had at that time. The DVD market was unearthing obscure treasures as well as giving us better quality versions of certain classics and in the UK censorship on gory titles had eased up considerably since the 1990s. 

The early years of the new century now looks like a thriving period in the genre's history. Asian imports were becoming more widely available to western audiences and the J-Horror boom churned out multiple gems. The "Splat Pack", which included the likes of Rob Zombie, James Wan, Greg McLean, Alexandre Aja and Eli Roth, was emerging and bought us a new generation of Horror auteurs. There was also "New French Extremity" films like Trouble Every Day, In My Skin and High Tension. A new wave of zombie films would follow on from the success of 28 Days Later... and Shaun of the Dead. Remakes of classics were in full swing, with new versions of House of Wax, Willard, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Dawn of the Dead turning out better than expected. 2005 marked the return of George A. Romero after a long absence with Land of the Dead. We also got Tobe Hooper's last great flurry of activity with Toolbox MurdersMortuary and his two episodes of 'Masters of Horror' all coming out over the space of a couple of years. Perhaps it was the timing of all this or a kind of nostalgia at work but I've not really felt that same buzz in the years since where Horror is concerned. 

Having learned about several leading Horror directors taking part in a new series that was designed to give them a free reign over their respective episodes I was ecstatic to say the least. In addition to the filmmakers involved it would feature adaptations of stories by the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, Ambrose Bierce, H.P. Lovecraft, Clive Barker, Richard Matheson, James Tiptree Jr., Koji Suzuki, and F. Paul Wilson. As a Horror fan it felt like a dream come true. I even made a special trip to Brighton to see a UK premiere screening of Dario Argento's first episode, Jenifer, at the Duke of York's Picturehouse in 2005. I still have the standalone DVD releases by Anchor Bay of Cigarette Burns and Dreams in the Witch House. Plans changed in the UK and each series was broken up in to 2 separate box sets with 6 or 7 episodes each instead of individual releases for each title.

There was a sort of precedent for this kind of project. In the past films such as Spirits of the Dead and Two Evil Eyes were Horror anthologies inspired by Poe stories that emphasised the directors of the different segments. Twilight Zone: The Movie had paid tribute to the legendary TV show with four segments made by hotshot directors of the time (including two future "Masters" - John Landis and Joe Dante). The most impressive example I know of filmmakers being showcased on televsion was a series made in France in the 1990s. 'Tous les garçons et les filles de leur âge' was a set of 60 minute films about adolescence that gave us outstanding works by the likes of Chantal Akerman, Claire Denis, Olivier Assayas and Andre Techine. 

Among the participants, Don Coscarelli and Stuart Gordon made the most of the opportunity presented by the series, seeing it as a perfect chance to film previously unrealised projects. Dreams in the Witch House would end up being the last of five Lovecraft adaptations by Stuart Gordon. Coscarelli talks about the experience of making Incident On and Off a Mountain Road in his autobiography 'True Indie' and how the series was the ideal form for a relatively simple tale by Joe R. Lansdale that wasn't exactly feature length material. I wish that more episodes had been developed along the same lines. Too many episodes felt like random assignments rather than material the directors were engaged with but a personal stamp was sometimes in evidence. Cigarette Burns can be seen as a companion piece to John Carpenter's 1994 film In the Mouth of Madness(many noted the similarities between the two) while Pro-Life** revisits his beloved siege scenario from earlier films like Assault on Precinct 13Prince of Darkness and Ghosts of Mars. Although by no means the first person to bring humour to macabre fare, Deer Woman and Family continued the unique mixture of comedy and Horror that John Landis had developed in An American Werewolf in LondonSomething Scary and Innocent Blood. Both were very much of a piece with his earlier work and are among his better latter day efforts. 

Several long term star-director collaborators were reunited for the show - Angela Bettis and Lucky McKee (Sick Girl), Robert Englund and Tobe Hooper (Dance of the Dead), Michael Moriarty and Larry Cohen (Pick Me Up), Robert Picardo and Joe Dante (Homecoming), Jeffrey Combs and Stuart Gordon (The Black Cat). It was also something of an opportunity for father and son bonding - Richard Christian Matheson did the screenplay for Dance of the Dead, which was based on a short story by his father, Max Landis co-wrote John Landis's first episode, while Cody Carpenter provided the music for both of his father's entries in the series. The show was designed as an auteurist project giving filmmakers creative control in television, a medium where writers, producers and showrunners are the more dominant figures. In many ways, the true auteur of the series was show creator Mick Garris, who penned 4 episodes (two of which he directed) and who already had a well established history in television with his miniseries adaptations of Stephen King's The Stand and The Shining.

Unfortunately, certain names that would have been a perfect fit for the show's premise didn't get involved. At different stages early on both George Romero*** and Roger Corman were set to direct Haeckel's Tale before John McNaughton finally took the helm. While not shy of his genre association, David Cronenberg ushered in another phase of his career in 2005 with A History of Violence, one that was very much a step away from the Horror fare that made his name. In a 2005 interview John Landis stated that Sam Raimi and Hideo Nakata were both set to do an episode****, although neither were ultimately involved with the series and may have had to drop out due to other projects and commitments. It's tempting to think of other names who might have been called on had the series fared better. I would loved to have seen episodes by the likes of Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Eric Red, William Lustig, Mary Lambert, Wes Craven, Ronny Yu and Bernard Rose, all of whom have the credits to justify the "Master" label. 

The names attached to the series were its drawing card but also in some ways a hindrance. 

The show was sold to audiences on the directors involved. By proudly boasting of exciting new works from the makers of such beloved titles as HalloweenSuspiriaPhantasmPoltergeist and Re-Animator it may have created unrealistic expectations. These were after all fairly low budget one hour TV movies shot in roughy 10 days. The episodes have a nice variety in tone and story but many look and feel too similar stylistically, in part due to the same crews and locations being employed on several episodes. 

The biggest letdowns for me were the two Argento episodes (Jenifer and Pelts) and Carpenter's Pro-Life, which is perhaps the worst film of his career. The satire of Peter Medak's The Washingtonians and Joe Dante's Homecoming felt clumsy and far too heavy-handed, very much dating the show to the George W. Bush/Iraq invasion era in which they were made. Several directors had been involved with struggles with censorship in the past, which may have indirectly caused them to overindulge here. The gore felt overdone in several instances, as though they felt a need to compete with the emerging torture porn craze of Saw, Hostel et al. and push the envelope given the lack of restrictions. A few trims were made to Jenifer before it was screened but Takashi Miike's episode Imprint evidently crossed a line as Showtime chose not to broadcast the episode in the US. Some of the younger talent fared well, with Lucky McKee and Brad Anderson more than holding their own against the veterans with Sick Girl and Sounds Like respectively. Ernest Dickerson managed to bring some of his trademark visual flair to The V Word and William Malone's Fair-Haired Child is arguably his best work to date. 

Fewer prestigous names were attached to the second season, although some returned for a second outing. The poor reception of the later episodes may have led to the show being cancelled and later revived as 'Fear Itself' on NBC in 2008, which no longer had Mick Garris involved. I've only seen one episode of 'Fear Itself' (Stuart Gordon's final directorial outing Eater) so that series may be a viewing project for another time perhaps. 

Several of the talents showcased were near the end of their careers or at least edging towards long inactive spells. Pick Me Up would be Larry Cohen's swansong in the director's chair. Stuart Gordon's two episodes were among his final works, sadly no longer making films after 2008. Tobe Hooper would make just one more feature before his death in 2017. Joe Dante has mainly worked in television or anthology shorts ever since. Besides 2010's The Ward John Carpenter has showed no signs of returning to directing features and Dario Argento's workrate has slowed down considerably over the past decade or so. If the show wasn't exactly a defining moment for many of them it was a nice way to recognise their earlier achievements, which had enriched the genre immeasurably.

The show had its share of disappointments but seen from a distance advanced hype and heightened expectations may have caused the series as a whole to be judged too harshly. Even the worst episodes are watchable and viewers accustomed to the Horror anthology format will feel very much at home with its highs and lows. I have a special fondness for Cigarette Burns, which begat the Willowy Being moniker for this blog. Along with Ghosts of Mars it's probably the Carpenter film that I revisit most frequently. 


It was ahead of the curb in some ways with many established filmmakers (including Steven Soderbergh, Jane Campion and Park Chan-wook) choosing to work in television in the years since, and finding greater freedom there than in feature filmmaking. The show came along at the perfect time for me and I enjoyed it more as an event and for its individual highlights than I did for its overall quality. By my count, the show gave us at least 5 titles that were among the decade's finest Horror films and for that alone it was a worthwhile undertaking. 

Footnotes: 
*The mysterious film director Hans Backovic character feels reminiscent of the missing Horror novelist Sutter Crane in In the Mouth of Madness. For me, Cigarette Burns is more of a hybrid of Roman Polanski's The Ninth Gate (1999) and Gore Verbinski's US remake of The Ring from 2002. 
**There's a deliberate callback in Pro-Life to the infamous spider-head sequence from The ThingIt: Chapter Two (2019) also explicitly lifts from this sequence. Both instances seemed like ill-judged homages to me.
***Romero's involvement is inferred in the above 2005 trailer video clip when it mentions Night of the Living Dead among the credits of the "Masters" involved)

Saturday, 31 October 2020

Halloween 2020

I do sometimes feel like I'm set in my ways where Horror cinema is concerned so this October I saw it as a bit of a challenge to broaden my horizons by seeking out cult oddities from the past as well as looking at more contemporary fare rather than simply revisiting old favourites. I did mention on this blog how the 2010s felt like a period of stagnation in Horror cinema but I'm still ever hopeful of finding potential modern classics that have so far eluded me. Over the years I've come to see Horror cinema of the 1990s and 2000s as a much more fecund period for the genre than I did at the time the films of those eras were released.

Here's a list of the titles I watched for this year's October Horror Marathon.

My viewing choices certainly had an international flavour this year, with films featured from countries such as Hong Kong (Mr. Vampire), the Netherlands (The Lift), Spain (Cuadecuc, Vampir), France (The Beast), Iran (A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night), Australia (The Babadook), New Zealand (Kitchen Sink), Mexico (Alucarda), Japan (Blind Beast), the former Czechoslovakia (The Ear), the UK (The City of the Dead), US (Wendigo) and Germany (Anatomy). I was greatly aided in my selections by a copy I borrowed of the splendid BFI Screen Guides book '100 European Horror Films', edited by Stephen Jay Schneider. I had seen just over half the films listed at the start of October and was able to catch several more that were mentioned over the past 4 weeks. I will certainly use it to help inform future selections. 

Through streaming services I looked at some of the more acclaimed modern Horror titles, including The Conjuring, It Follows, The Babadook and A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night. The modern "contenders" all felt a bit too calculated for my tastes, with similar scare tactics employed in all of them and a certain pretentious quality that has helped coin the "Elevated Horror" label that I actively loathe. Alas, none of these were the major discoveries that I'd hoped for, lacking the grace notes of the best Horror fare, but it wasn't for want of trying and they all helped me gain insights about recent trendsetters. I got more enjoyment from 2013's rather less-heralded Willow Creek. It was available on Shudder, to which I signed up for a free 7 day trial. Shudder also made it possible to see 2020's lockdown Horror sensation Host and a Creepshow Animated Special. Netflix have catered well to aficianados this month by adding to their selection the likes of The Haunting of Bly Manor, His House, Cadaver Hubie Halloween. I only caught the last of those titles but the others are on my watchlist. Several of my best finds were from the 1970s - the sensual, blasphemous delirium of Alucarda, Robert Mulligan's disturbing childhood tale The Other and Jean Rollin's The Iron Rose, which, much to my delight, takes places entirely within the grounds of a giant cemetery over a single night. 

In many ways I think Horror found its ideal medium in the cinema and the way (to paraphrase Ingmar Bergman) it can delve in to the subconscious like no other form. I feel the opposite way about science fiction, which has its perfect outlet in literature and most SF films or TV cannot hope to achieve the depth and intellectual rigor of the best novels in the field. Although I've read several Horror classics I realised recently that I've explored relatively little Horror literature over the years. My Horror and Horror-related reading this month included 'Songs of a Dead Dreamer' by Thomas Ligotti, 'Fear' by L. Ron Hubbard, 'The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde' by Robert Louis Stevenson and 'The Odyssey and the Idiocy', the memoir of actress Candace Hilligoss, which I mainly got hold of for the chapter on her starring role in Carnival of Souls but have found the whole thing to be a very engrossing read. Recently I got a copy of 'Fear', the autobiography of Dario Argento, as a birthday present and to which I greatly look forward to delving in to. I also intend to read the recently published 'The Living Dead', a novel that George Romero was working on before his passing that has been finished by Daniel Kraus.

It's already something of a cliche to talk about how 2020 has developed in to a nightmare worthy of the Horror realm. The genre scored one of the last major successes in cinemas before lockdown with Blumhouse's The Invisible Man. Among the many high profile titles that have been pushed back in the release schedules were potential Horror hits like A Quiet Place Part II, the Candyman remake and Halloween Kills. While I had little interest in any of those it is pleasing that other macabre new offerings have been made available via streaming/VOD such as Gretel & HanselRelic and Robert Zemeckis's new version of Roald Dahl's The Witches. Another welcome announcement was the news of John Carpenter releasing a new LP, titled 'Lost Themes III', in February next year. 

Among the many bits of devastating news we've had this year was the death of Stuart Gordon in March, which undoubtedly factored in my decision to rewatch Dreams in the Witch House this month. Also sadly gone in April was Nobuhiko Obayashi, whose 1977 masterpiece House I intend to revisit soon.

I did watch several Horror titles during lockdown but there's something about the Autumn atmosphere that adds immeasurably to the viewing experience of these films. As someone who doesn't feel safe returning to cinemas any time soon I'll be skipping this year's Leeds Film Festival in November, besides some titles I would like to see via their online player. One of the few things that hasn't been cancelled or radically altered for me in 2020 was my annual October Horror marathon so this feels like an achievement of sorts. Somewhat unusually, I find watching Horror films to be a source of actual comfort and joy right now.

Happy Halloween! 

Monday, 25 May 2020

'Apropos of Nothing' by Woody Allen

In light of current events, I'm grateful for any causes for joy that can be found in 2020. As a longtime fan of Woody Allen, I have recently had two reasons to be cheerful.

Despite the best efforts of a glorified witch-hunt and the cancel culture of social media, Allen's autobiography, titled Apropos of Nothing, has been published by Arcade. Shortly before the recent release it had been dropped at the last minute by Grand Central/Hachette when they caved in to a manufactured outrage which advocated censorship and blacklisting.

There have been rumours of Allen writing an autobiography for years and it was a mouthwatering prospect. He's already proved himself to be a fine writer, with dozens of screenplays to his name as well as stage plays and published prose works. I'm really glad that the book exists and it is an entertaining and enlightening read. I read the whole thing within 3 days. For a slow reader like me this is the equivalent of setting a marathon record. For anyone interested in the man and his work or who just want to educate themselves about a much misunderstood and misreported subject I wholeheartedly recommended it.


The sad part for me is that the stories about Allen's personal life from the early 1990s should really have been relegated to a footnote of his career by now. The current wave of new age McCarthyism has perhaps forced Woody Allen to tell his side of the story in print. As someone who has never believed the accusation that was levelled against him I'm one of the readers that didn't need to read about the saga at such length as it's already been well documented elsewhere. Unfortunately, ignorance and falsehoods persist and it has got to a stage where Allen's filmmaking career has been jeopardised. Now 84 years old, as a married man with two adopted daughters who must be affected by all the vile mudslinging that has been going on in recent years I imagine he wanted to make a statement with this book, which gives a lengthy and well detailed rebuttal to the claims made against him.

The middle section of the book is unfortunately burdened with being a necessary corrective to innumerable inaccuracies and false narratives about Allen's life that have proliferated over the years. Earlier in the book however, the accounts of his childhood in Brooklyn, lifelong love of New Orleans jazz, years as a TV writer and success as a stand-up comedian are a pleasure to read. He also chronicles his relationships with the actresses Louise Lasser (who he was married to), Diane Keaton, Stacey Nelkin and M*a Farrow, all of whom had a major impact on his work and development as a writer and director. Farrow is unavoidably a major talking point in the book. Their partnership on and off screen lasted over a decade. During this time they lived apart but would share parental duties on two children they adopted and also have a son together (although Farrow has since claimed that R*nan's father may actually be Frank Sinatra). She starred in 13 of his films and despite the fallout he gives credit where it's due, praising her growth as an actress. Farrow showed an exceptional range in Allen's work and gave remarkable performances in films like Broadway Danny Rose and Radio Days

Having made so many films, several are only fleetingly mentioned. Allen has an at best modest and at worst damning view of a lot of his work. I found it interesting that he calls 1993's Manhattan Murder Mystery "one of the best films I ever made". It's one I've always liked but I had considered it to be a lightweight and minor work. Having not seen it in more than 20 years his enthusiasm for it makes me want to give it a rewatch. He also speaks well of The Purple Rose of CairoHusbands and Wives and Bullets Over Broadway but feels the final act of Hannah and Her Sisters was a cop-out and he has a very harsh judgement of films such as ManhattanSeptember and Another Woman. Although he was as entertaining as ever in The Curse of the Jade Scorpion I do agree with him that he was the wrong actor for the lead role.

There is a slightly meandering quality to some of the later chapters, with quite a few random anecdotes that don't add much of interest and feel like extra padding. Allen freely admits to living a charmed life at this stage and seems grateful for what he has. It's great to learn that his marriage to Soon-Yi seems to have been very happy and fulfilling for him. He's been able to get on with his life and has maintained an impeccable work ethic, having done several tours with his jazz band and he is still making a new film each year as writer and director. I really hope the final word hasn't been written on Allen's life, career and legacy despite a sustained hate campaign that is hellbent on destroying his career and reputation.

Ever since Vicky Cristina Barcelona came out in early 2009 I have watched every new feature film directed by Woody Allen at the cinema. It was something I looked forward to each year. In 2018 I caught Wonder Wheel during its initial release in the UK, and I did have suspicions at the time that it may be my last chance to see his latest title on the big screen because of ever growing condemnation in the media from R*nan Farrow and his pathetic, hate-filled minions. Little did I know that a couple of years later the theatrical experience itself would be in such a perilous state.

The second bit of good news that has surfaced is that Allen's most recent film, A Rainy Day in New York, is finally being released in the UK on VOD services in June and on DVD in July. In late 2018 the finished film was shelved by Amazon studios, who also ended their production deal with Allen, due to a hostile press and pressure from the same witch-hunt that cancelled the publication by Hachette. Although still without a release in the USA it was eventually distributed in sensible and civilised parts of Europe and the rest of the world that didn't see an issue with releasing the film. I have been tempted to get a foreign DVD of the film since February but held out hope that sanity would prevail and a UK release is now finally going ahead. It's at least a year overdue to my mind but better late than never.



Recommended reading:
The Case for Woody Allen's Innocence by Jordan Ruimy (from WorldofReel.com)

Wednesday, 25 March 2020

R.I.P. Stuart Gordon

I learned today about the death of director Stuart Gordon at the age of 72. A sadly undervalued filmmaker, his achievements were many and varied but he will be best remembered as a "Master of Horror" for his distinctive contributions to the genre. By striking contrast, his best known works are probably his gory 1985 feature debut Re-Animator and the 1989 Disney family comedy Honey, I Shrunk the Kids for which he co-wrote the story.

As a long time fan, it was bliss to experience the incredible run of films he made from 1998 to 2008, which remains one of the best streaks of any filmmaker I've encountered. I named him my #1 filmmaker of the 2000s for the extraordinary set of films he put out during that period. It was all the more frustrating then that there were no new films in the decade that followed or indeed for the rest of his career. There were rumoured projects but sadly nothing materialised and it would seem that funding for new works had become increasingly difficult to obtain. He would continue working however in theatre, where he had started his career as co-founder of the Organic Theatre in Chicago.

1968 was a landmark year for Stuart Gordon. It was the year he married his long term partner and collaborator, the actress Carolyn Purdy-Gordon (who would go on to make several unforgettable appearances in her husband's films), as well as making a controversial stage adaptation of 'Peter Pan', which got him arrested on obscenity charges. It was also the year of many groundbreaking films and he would later recall the seismic impact that that year's Rosemary's Baby and 2001: A Space Odyssey would have on him and how they made him aware of the possibilities of cinema.

As well as being an effective launchpad for his filmmaking career, Re-Animator would mark the first of five outstanding H.P. Lovecraft film adaptations that he made over a twenty year span. From Beyond (1986), Castle Freak (1995, based on the story 'The Outsider' but also containing aspects of 'The Rats in the Walls'), Dagon (2001, which, despite its title, mainly uses elements of 'The Shadow Over Innsmouth') and Dreams in the Witch House (2005) would follow. These films form a remarkable series and taken together as an achievement they represent a body of work in the field of Horror films worthy of comparison to Val Lewton's RKO cycle of the 1940s, the series of 'Frankenstein' films that Terence Fisher and Peter Cushing made for Hammer, Roger Corman's 1960s Poe adaptations, Roman Polanski's unofficial 'Apartment Trilogy' and George A. Romero's 'Living Dead' series. He had also planned to film versions of 'The Lurking Fear' and 'The Thing on the Doorstep' in the 1980s but sadly both will remain great unmade films. He was well aware of the unorthodox nature of his adaptations and the offence that it caused to purists but I feel that some of the more faithful Lovecraft adaptations that I've seen have only validated his approach. I will always owe Stuart Gordon a huge debt of gratitude for effectively being my introduction to Lovecraft's fiction.

Horror provided a fertile ground for his imagination. He embraced the Freudian aspects of the genre, fusing the "Body Horror" of David Cronenberg's early period and John Carpenter's The Thing with the cosmic dimension of Lovecraft's work. He also displayed a macabre wit, the only real precedent of which I can find is in James Whale's 1930s Universal Horror films and Gordon would cite 1935's Bride of Frankenstein as a personal favourite. His influence has become more apparent in recent times with films like Mandy and Richard Stanley's The Colour Out of Space displaying an evident affinity with Gordon's mid-1980s work, particularly the outrageous black humour and vibrant colour schemes of From Beyond.

While the "Master of Horror" label was well warranted it belies his versatility and he also produced notable work in other genres like science fiction, drama, thrillers, fantasy and comedy. One of his most interesting credits was for his work on the script of 1993's Body Snatchers, based on Jack Finney's novel and a Larry Cohen screenstory. He was originally set to direct the film but it was eventually made by Abel Ferrara. The film that resulted is excellent but I can't help wondering what Stuart Gordon's version would have been like. It was during a period where Gordon's career seemed to be moving towards the mainstream. At this point he was developing projects with Disney (eventually resulting in the sublime 1998 Ray Bradbury adaptation The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit) and would have a far larger budget than usual for the 1992 film Fortress, but he was clearly more comfortable working independently, with smaller crews and with lower budgets. In general his later films tended to get released directly to video/DVD or be made for television but this was in no way a reflection of their quality. He was very proud of his work on Dagon and once mentioned in an interview how frustrating it was that it never got a chance to find an audience in cinemas.

One of his great gifts was as an effective collaborator and his work showcased a remarkable range of talent with whom he worked on several occasions, including performers like Jeffrey Combs, Barbara Crampton and Ezra Godden, screenwriter Dennis Paoli and cinematographer Mac Ahlberg. Producer Brian Yuzna would go on from their early works for Charles Band's Empire Pictures to launch his own career as a Horror director with 1989's Society. Gordon would also work alongside the novelist Charlie Higson (King of the Ants) and playwright David Mamet (Edmond) for adaptations of their work.

Another aspect of his talent was his ability to work miracles on shoestring budgets. The opportunity offered by the 2005 Showtime series 'Masters of Horror' to helm an episode allowed him to make two previously unrealised projects (Dreams in the Witch House and The Black Cat), effectively managing to whittle down planned feature films in to one hour TV movies. I consider his two contributions to the series to be perhaps the best of the lot and they made many of the other efforts look lazy and rushed by comparison. Taut and economical, his work demonstrated a lot of ingenuity that is sadly lacking in a lot of today's low budget genre fare. His last credited work as director, the 'Fear Itself' episode Eater (2008), was a terse and claustrophobic piece that displayed his mastery of tension, a relatively unheralded skill which was also very effectively demonstrated in 2007's Stuck. After this he tried for many years to get a film version of his stage play 'Nevermore' in to production but it was another frustratingly unrealised project.

In recent times we've lost several much revered genre filmmakers - George A. Romero, Tobe Hooper, Wes Craven and Larry Cohen have all passed away in the last 5 years. Stuart Gordon well and truly deserves a place alongside those greats. Long undervalued and generally regarded as a cult figure, I'd count him among the finest filmmakers in modern American cinema.

R.I.P. Stuart Gordon (1947-2020)


Recommended links:

Gordon's Dozen
12 films that Stuart Gordon named as personal favourites:

Behind the Green Door (1972, Artie Mitchell)
The Bride of Frankenstein (1935, James Whale)
Duck Soup (1933, Leo McCarey)
8 1/2 (1963, Federico Fellini)
The Godfather (1972, Francis Ford Coppola)
King Kong (1933, Merian C. Cooper & Ernest B. Schoedsack) 
Psycho (1960, Alfred Hitchcock)
Rosemary's Baby (1968, Roman Polanski)
Satyricon (1969, Federico Fellini)
The Tingler (1959, William Castle)
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968, Stanley Kubrick)
The Wild Bunch (1969, Sam Peckinpah)
sources: BFI, IndieWire