Category Archives: Editorials

A Horror Retrospective – Ghostface And His Generational Influence

Effective horror lingers with its audience long after the credits roll. The images (or messages) take root deeply inside our psyche and not only leave lasting impressions to fuel our nightmares but make common everyday things something dreadful. That’s a sign of great horror and only the masters of the genre can manage it. 

Scream 3 (2000) Directed by Wes Craven Shown: Ghostface

They turn the mundane into malevolence, and, to the peril of their audiences, suddenly the shelter of the everyday norm is stripped away and our world of comforting shelter is no more. Some examples include: Psycho violated the private safety of a common shower making it no longer a safe and intimate place. After Jaws premiered family outings to the beach were something turned suddenly macabre. No one wanted to step into the water.

Jason scared people away from camping out and Freddy met us in our nightmares to slaughter us like pigs. Ah Hell, Stephen King made cornfields scary and Clive Barker turned a music box into a doorway to Hell.  

In like manner, Ghostface made answering the phone dangerous. To emphasize the malicious effect this slasher had on society after Scream’s blockbuster success the rate of people getting caller ID increased astronomically. All of a sudden people had a reason to fear who was on the other line. After all how well do you know that other person?

The chance that a stalker – or serial killer – was waiting on the other end was always a great possibility. Something Scream exploited brilliantly. 

Not being the first horror movie to make crank calls something to fear (Black Christmas, When A Stranger Calls) it certainly gave the concept its own grisly twist and introduced Ghostface as a new horror icon whose spectral visage has now haunted generations of horror fans. 

Part of the character’s violent success is the unique fact that – unlike his big brothers Jason, Michael, or Freddy – anyone can be behind that ghostly mask. There is no repeating Ghostface murderer from movie to movie. The only thing shared between each of them is the iconic mask.  

With each succeeding film, new serial killers don the mask and cloak and busy themselves by both revering the established standards of the past while carving a new grisly legacy of blood in the flesh of new victims. Bottom line no one knows what sick maniac hides behind the ghost’s face … but it’s probably someone you’re closest to. Just saying. So the victims of the franchise are always on edge and never know who they can trust. 

Scream 3 (2000) Directed by Wes Craven Shown: Ghostface

That’s the scariest side of Ghostface: who is he or she? The clever script of the first film had us all on the edge of our seats trying to figure out who in the Hell was guilty? Was the lead girl pulling the strings behind the whole thing or was she an innocent trapped in a violent game? That’s the hook, that bloody mystery and classic slasher motif of ‘who done it’ the subgenre was originally built on.

Bottom line is we all know who Jason, Freddy, Chucky, and Leatherface all are. We don’t know who’s behind Ghostface, at least not until the final reveal in the third act of each movie. 

Final Thoughts

Admittedly Ghostface is not as readily adored as much as his older brothers of the slasher genre. Possibly because the Scream franchise went on to inadvertently inspire a long list of copycat films and parodies that made it tough for some horror fans to take the franchise seriously. And that’s too bad because this really is a fun series with plenty of scares and kills to keep people coming back. 

One phenomenal achievement Scream can claim is reviving the horror genre when it was clearly on life support and rapidly losing the battle. Long gone were the days of the ‘60s when Hammer ruled the box office or the ‘70s that gave us groundbreaking terror like The ExorcistThe Hills Have Eyes and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. And the entire decade of the ‘80s was ruled by horror. We grew up on the teats of the Beast and just expected each year to produce a brand new Jason movie or Freddy film. It was the decade of slashers, zombies, and splatter! 

Then… nothing. Like bones left out to bleach under a desolate sun, horror seemed to have outlasted its usefulness and many fans left the genre completely. Then came Wes Craven’s little meta-horror film (that manically embraced what it was) sparked a hellish flame among audiences and they came out in droves just to see what all the fuss was about.

Holy shit! Scream (1996) didn’t disappoint either. 

You could call it sensational. I call it a ‘90s phenomenon. Scream became a hit and people – as aforementioned – were scared of ringing phones. Everyone was a suspect (in the movie) and the simple formula of mystery and murder pumped new life into the genre and horror was back on its feet. The Beast was awakened with a new scent of blood on its maul and was taking no prisoners.  

There are today horror podcasts who readily admit they would not be into the genre if it weren’t for the black magic of Scream’s howling success. It stabbed deeply into the cultural psyche and left an oozing mark. 

I look around my writing space here and see all the Scream Factory and Severin Blu-Rays I own; a pantheon of horror icons line my shelves thanks to the brilliant work of NECA’s beautiful renditions of Jason, Pennywise, Chucky, and many, many others. I’ve spent hours playing the Friday the 13th game on PS4 and the list of my collection (and obsession) can go on and on. So I’m left wondering if any of these things I love would have been possible without the success of Scream

Our younger readers might think this to be over-exaggeration but those of us who know simply know. Horror was almost lost because no one wanted to invest in the genre. Scream changed a lot of corporate minds and suddenly there was money to be made in well-written and smart horror movies.

That’s not to say there weren’t any good scares or genre flicks happening at the time. There were movies like Cape Fear and Silence of the Lambs that both came out in 1991 and scared the shit out of people. But these movies were placed under the moniker of Thriller. There was an obvious attempt being made by studios to do everything in their power to not let their sophisticated movies be called a ‘horror film’ as if the term would taint their project.

Among the rise of thrillers also came the romantic gothic remakes of classic monsters with titles like Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1993) and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1994). Both movies were elaborate projects sporting big-name actors, stunning set pieces, and performances of a lifetime. Wolf (1994) also joined the fray and reworked the classic werewolf story into a more modern setting. But these movies were not being called horror movies but were gothic romances instead. Hell, I still loved them.

 But Scream made being a horror fan something to be admired. All of a sudden all of us horror geeks were like part of a clandestine order, holders of dark knowledge and be sought. It was a game-changer and wasn’t afraid to be called a horror movie. It wore the title proudly. Both it and The Blair Witch Project (1999) helped re-evaluate the genre in the minds of many, many people.

As of writing this article the franchise’s fifth movie is in theaters now – and enjoying good reviews. So Ghostface is back and, after seeing the movie, I say make a big deal of it. Watch all four previous films – or at least the original trilogy – and lead into seeing Ghostface up on the big screen again.

This is certainly the most violent of the whole franchise (no complaints from me, I love that kinda stuff) and really got me excited about the Ghostface killer all over again. If you’ve not seen the series yet you owe it to yourself – as a horror fan – to go watch the first movie at least. See the movie that made future movies like Hereditary possible at all.

Horror’s Forbidden Film: Clownhouse (1989)

Horror's Forbidden Film: Clownhouse (1989)

Clownhouse: A true video nasty if there ever was one. I mind-wrestled since the beginning of Nightmare Nostalgia on the notion to ever even write about this film, and here we are finally. At the end of the day, I got some things to say so we’re diving into this really troublesome movie that has become the true horror fan’s forbidden fruit.

Let’s start with my first experience with it:

Walking around the horror section in 1990 at my local mom and pop rental store Action Video, was definitely a highlight in my childhood. I’ve written countless times about how the hypnotizing VHS art covers opened up a world of horror I may have never known about before. Classic films like The Blob remake and Popcorn would have slid right by me in this era had it not been for those glorious artwork promos on the plastic rental box staring at you from afar like a lonely stranger begging for conversation. And of course, this new film stalking the shelves in the Summer of that year by then-unknown filmmaker Victor Salva caught my attention. The peering eyes of a demented clown taunted me. So duh, of course, I rented it. Brought it home, watched it on a Friday night with my dad, and I absolutely loved it.

I really hate saying that knowing we all know now about the movie.

Clownhouse is a fairly straightforward horror film about three brothers, Nathan Forrest Winters, Brian McHugh, and a then-unknown Sam Rockwell left alone in the house with some lunatic clowns on the loose who so happen to target the brothers in particular. Casey (Winters) has classic coulrophobia, and of course, his asshole big brother (Rockwell) who has a hot date but is also in charge of his two younger siblings while Mom is out of town, takes the clan to the town carnival to kill two birds with one stone. After a scare inside the big tent with a red-nosed nightmare (which was solely based on Casey’s own fears) the brothers head home for the night and the clowns retire to the makeup tents to wash off their faces- but the circus clowns themselves are being stalked by a trio of escaped mental patients. They themselves are killed and the lunatics take their clown gear, makeup, and have a hunt of their own. The prey being the three brothers of course.

As stated, Victor Salva was then an unknown to the industry and came in with this, actually really good B-horror movie flick. Beyond the obvious, this is what is incredibly problematic. The film hardly has any gore but rather plays on a psychological scare and chase theme. I would almost go far as saying it’s like a hardened, and more sophisticated “Are You Afraid of the Dark” episode made into a movie with much better acting. Which could be why I liked it so much as a kid. The film has great tension-filled pacing and eerie cinematography that sets the mood for a terrifying night filled with pained nightmares running around. But alas, it’s so uncomfortable to sit through now.

Is it possible to separate the art from the artist? Well, it’s not easy when the center of the art involves child molestation and really unsubtle shots of young boys in their underwear throughout the picture. I used to be able to think I could. However, the older I get, the more I can not. It hurts knowing what happened to the star, Nathan Forrest Winters and what he must have felt and gone through during production. After the disgusting scandal was made public, and if you do happen to rewatch it, you can just tell in this kid’s eyes the fear he has. The torment that Casey goes through in the film is a disturbing parallel of the heinous abuse Winters was subjected to at the hands of a real monster. That’s not acting, and that really angers me. It angers me even more that this piece of shit didn’t do nearly enough prison time AND went on to make a goddamn movie with Disney of all people: Powder, another really suggestive-looking trope with lots of half-naked young men, and then ultimately, Jeepers Creepers– who fuckface Salva himself said he modeled The Creeper after his own persona.

What a fuckin’ slimeball.

Anyways, if you’re one of those people who can by some magic sorcery separate the film from the behind-the-scenes horrors, then you’ll probably enjoy it; good luck finding it though beyond a free version up on YouTube. Just be prepared for the most uncomfortable hour and twenty minutes of your cinematic life.

“LITERAL BESTIES”: HOW ONLINE HORROR GAVE ME ONE OF MY MOST CHERISHED FRIENDSHIPS

When I woke this morning, I happened upon a tweet from @lindseylouwho that spoke to me:

It opened a floodgate of thoughts and inspired this post, so please, come with me for a minute.

In another life, I was Sports Director of a local television station by day, and hosted a late night, B-movie homage to Joe Bob Briggs by night. We were having a hard time getting the show sponsored when the idea occurred to me that I had interviewed 17 Hall of Famers for the baseball website I’d been writing for, so why not try to do the same with horror personalities? With Halloween and NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968) looming, I gave it a shot. Soon after, Kane Hodder was booked for a phone interview, Halloween Express backed it and from that moment on, the issue of sponsorship was permanently in the rear view.

Less than twelve months later I decided to take a crack at horror writing and Googled “horror website writers needed.” I submitted to one site and one site only, and thankfully they opened their doors to me.

For most of my life to that point I was a freak. No one understood my “odd” fascination with horror or could wrap their heads around the idea that Halloween could be anyone’s favorite holiday. Then one site invited me in and I quickly discovered that I was anything but alone in my sensibilities. I was overwhelmed and overjoyed to find fellow “freaks” for whom Halloween was not a single day, but a lifestyle.

Then it happened. On a random night nearly eight years ago I got home from work and sat down to write my first article. What should I write about? What could I write about? My mind landed on SILVER BULLET and I started punching the keys.

Shortly after posting I received a message from another writer in the site’s administration group gleefully declaring that they didn’t think anyone loved Stephen King’s werewolf adaptation as much as they did.

One message turned to several, and almost a decade later, it hasn’t stopped.

That fellow writer was the owner of this website, Patti Pauley.

We partook in group conversations, yes, but it always returned to direct messages because as she once pointed out, “we share the same brain.” A fact that makes me laugh and proud in equal measure.

Before long I was looking for a new show to binge and asked if she had any suggestions, which led to “have you ever seen Twin Peaks?” It didn’t take long for my “thanks, now I’m obsessed with Audrey Horne” to be met with laughter and “welcome to the club!”

In fact, just as I was landing on the final episodes of the original series, Showtime announced that we’d be returning to a place wonderful and strange. So, when Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee) declared “I’ll see you again in 25 years” I nearly exploded my laptop hitting pause. It was all new to me, but my David Lynch baptism made it clear that it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that Season 3 was predetermined, the fruition of one of the greatest long cons in history. There was only one person I had to message to share that my mind had just been blown–Patti–and by the point, it wasn’t a DM, but rather a text.

Hell, we had talked about how much her son loved Bruce Campbell, and I told her that if I ever landed him for an interview, I’d ask him to say something to her boy. So, when I finally landed a Q&A with The King, I kept my word, and the look on his face was worth the price of gold. Still one of my proudest moments that I could do that for a friend.

For reasons I’m not going to get into now, we both grew disenchanted with that site and went our own way, but the connection never ceased. We talked, we sent shit to crack one another up, shared cool new shirts or collectibles we knew the other would flip over, but we also had serious conversations about life. We discussed triumphs and tragedies, we vented to one another, offered support and encouragement, and of course, we laughed. A lot.

The number of horror aficionados who want to write about the genre they love are legion, and there are times when those waters prove shark-infested and alliances one thought strong were actually feeble. But not with Patti.

Her friendship and loyalty has never waned, and in this life, that is not only a rare commodity, it’s borderline unicorn.

And make no mistake, Ms. Pauley is absolutely a unicorn. A horror-loving, demon unicorn, but a unicorn nonetheless.

Look, anyone who writes–for a living or as a hobby–carries hints of self-doubt. They wonder if it’s any good, if they’re any good? It takes courage to expose oneself to the piranhas, to lay bear the most personal of thoughts and feelings. And sadly, quite often if anyone has something to say, it isn’t complimentary. Truth be told, it’s more akin to offensive commentary than biting criticism.

That’s never stopped her, though. Patti has always maintained that she does it for herself and for those who grew up loving all things spooky as she did, drawing from a well of horror memories shared with her father.

Joe Bob Briggs once said, “the only sin a movie can commit is to be boring,” and the same sentiment applies to Patti’s writing. Boring is not a word that could ever apply to her style. The passion and knowledge drips off the page (in today’s world, the screen) in a voice that is unique, energetic, and often times hilarious. Need evidence? Let’s wind the clocks back to SILVER BULLET. Patti describes Uncle Red’s showdown with the beast at the conclusion of the film as “Gary Busey doesn’t just fight, he wrestles with a goddamn werewolf!” I laughed out loud, and have never seen it the same since. Her thoughts and words stay with you.

When she told me that she’d scored a gig with a prominent horror magazine I was elated, but when she posted for one of the elite websites I immediately read it and teared up pouring over the paragraphs because with each passing sentence her growth as a writer leapt off the screen. I was a brother proud of my sister.

So, when she told me that she was venturing out on her own, that Nightmare Nostalgia would be a thing, I was thrilled, and did not hesitate to offer my help in any way that I could. Sadly, life gets in the way and I don’t write nearly as often as I used to or would like, but she has never so much as hinted at disappointment, she merely continues to encourage and says “whenever you have something, I want it.”

I interviewed Joe Bob, my lifelong hero because of her website. In fact, his rep shared what I’d written following his original (believed at the time to be his farewell) Shudder marathon on Facebook with a single word, “This.”

When I discovered it, I was shopping with a friend and stopped dead in my tracks, tearing up. If John fucking Bloom thought what I wrote was good, it was the only validation I’d ever need. And when I asked if he’d be generous enough to sign that piece when I met him after his How Rednecks Saved Hollywood show in Minneapolis later that year he asked if’d he read it. I responded that it had been shared on his Facebook, to which he replied “if it made it to Facebook, I definitely read it” and started to jot a message. I was floating.

Patti gave me those moments.

She also provided a platform for me to share my most personal pieces–from suicidal ideation to JASON LIVES guiding me through difficult times–Patti not only welcomed my most delicate thoughts and feelings, but applauded that I shared them and helped me exorcise demons.

So, once I got the idea in my head to start making Halloween cards, she was at the top of the recipient list. Always personalized, she has opened orange envelopes revealing laughs from some of her favorite flicks — THE FLY (1986), SILVER BULLET, ELVIRA: MISTRESS OF THE DARK, and THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE (1974).

In fact, when I penned what amounted to a love letter to Teri McMinn for the TCM hook scene, she texted “you are my favorite kind of freak.”

These might seem small or insignificant moments, but I assure you that they are anything but. The support and encouragement contained an unspoken maxim: be who you are. And believe me when I say that Patti has played a large role in my personal acceptance of who I am.

Cards turned into a six-foot, Coors Light cardboard Halloween stander I found at a thrift store (which still stands in the lobby of she and her husband’s business), and this past year, I added a Twin Peaks tee to the fray.

Not to be outdone, she shipped an 11 x 17 Jason Lives poster for my birthday. I just stared and smiled. One of the best gifts of my life was accompanied by a note. It was only three words, but they resonated.

Remember that we share an affinity for SILVER BULLET? It’s long since been a running joke that Patti is Jane (Megan Follows) and I’m Marty (Corey Haim), because of course we are.

The letter said “Happy birthday booger!”

That is who Patti Pauley is.

Funny that SILVER BULLET has so much to do with the moon, because something that Archibald “Moonlight” Graham (Burt Lancaster) said in FIELD OF DREAMS applies to our friendship: “We just don’t recognize life’s most significant moments while they’re happening.”

I didn’t realize that a random message from a fellow writer would materialize into such a deep and meaningful friendship, but as time has marched on, that relationship has only strengthened, and I have never taken it for granted.

Who knew that I was friends with Darcy the Mail Girl before any of us even knew who that was?

The closest we’ve come to a face-to-face was when I was in her town for a bachelor party, but it was a brief stay and our schedules just didn’t jibe, but it only delayed what will inevitably happen.

Patti runs this site, and does so with thoughtfulness, kindness, and above all, passion. The horror community is lucky to have her, so if the opportunity should ever arise, message her through Nightmare Nostalgia’s Facebook page to thank her, or better, tell her how awesome she is.

And if you have a friend whom you met through Twitter of Facebook or Instagram or wherever else, don’t for a moment question the validity of that friendship, because the bond you feel is not imagined, but very real.

Patti Pauley is my friend, my colleague, my boss, my sister; and she has my loyalty for life. To steal one of “her” lines: I love you too, Janie. Good night.