Apocalypse is a Dirty Business


We’ve got a treat today.  Author Nick Barton is celebrating that he has a story in the Enter the Apocalypse anthology (in which our editor-in-chief, Gustavo Bondoni also has a story) by writing about the apocalypse.  We think you’ll enjoy his take on what makes the subject so effective.


Apocalyptic stories have always appealed to me. That sounds somewhat sinister out loud, but I can’t help it. I’m not alone, either. So many writers have shared their own cataclysmic nightmares, all brought to print, the big screen, and in video games. From nuclear fallout to monster floods, dangerous spores and chemical warfare, and nameless disasters and formless creatures, you could say we are well studied.

However, insane weather and giant comets are great, but it’s the mystery of the disaster that always gets my attention. This year alone I have read around five apocalyptic stories (not always by choice) and each one has featured its own harrowing brand of terror. Four out of the five have clear names for their horsemen, but one book, BIRD BOX keeps the nature of its horrors unknown. This is a good thing. Monsters remain scary the less you see of them. That’s why the Xenomorph in ALIEN only has a token amount of screen time. In BIRD BOX, the end of the world comes about by erratic murders. Later it becomes apparent people are going kill-crazy because they have seen something. People begin to stay indoors, boarding up their windows so they can’t look outside. It gets to the point they must wear blindfolds to navigate outdoors. Scary? Bloody terrifying. I was genuinely getting anxious while reading it, and once when I left it to get a drink I jumped at a window. I was still halfway locked inside the story. That’s immersion on a level I haven’t experienced before. BIRD BOX is simply a book you must read.

While reading BIRD BOX, it reminded me of another end of the world novel that has haunted me long after reading it. THE ROAD. Perhaps the ultimate apocalyptic novel (at least in my mind.) Nothing remains. Nothing and nobody has a name, and the reason behind the burnt world is never explained. In every story like it there’s always a glimmer of hope, but for the Man and the Boy there is no hope. Trees are falling down, what people left have become cannibals, and the sun is always snuffed by the ashen atmosphere. You really wonder what the Man and the Boy are living for. They’re heading south for the coast, but it’s clear even if they do make it, what happens next? Without an ecosystem, the planet isn’t going to last.

THE ROAD, much like BIRD BOX, also features incredibly vivid and frightening imagery. BIRD BOX’s unseen horrors drive people rabid. One of the deaths include someone getting their lips torn off. In THE ROAD, the Man and the Boy come across a campfire with a charred newborn baby on a spit. It’s dark, terrifying and disturbing, but at the same time you sympathize with the characters. You don’t hate them. Survival instinct runs hot in humanity, and in THE ROAD it really does seem like people are surviving, not because they’ve got anything to live for, but because it’s in their nature. They just have to.

Hopefully we won’t ever have to.


Nick Barton is a speculative fiction writer living in Somerset, England. His horror short story, THE LAST RESORT can be found in Wicked Tales anthology, ‘Muffled Scream: Corner of the Eye.’ If Nick has gone missing, chances are high he is living as a wood elf in Skyrim, dancing to The Beatles or watching The Lord of the Rings, again. Visit him at nickbartonauthor.weebly.com, or on Twitter @NickBarton101.

When Horror Actors Go Bad

Laura (1945) Movie Poster

So, our 1001 movies quest continues (see here and here for other notable entries in this series), and today’s installment is referred to the 1945 film Laura.  Now, this one was a solid, entertaining noir movie… but there isn’t much one can say about it except to watch it if you can get it on Netflix in your area.  A good film, but not one that speaks to an era or about which we can draw deep philosophical conclusions*.  It certainly doesn’t compare – either in cast or in writing talent, to this flick which was one of its contemporaries.

As far as I can tell, a modern viewer looking to draw conclusions from this film will note two things.  The first is minor unless one is a jazz lover, and that is that the the theme song, Laura, seems to have spawned hundreds of recordings by everyone up to and including Frank Sinatra.

But the truly iconic moment comes when you realize that the bumbling, leading man-esque “boyfriend” character is none other than Vincent Price.  The mustache is missing, but it’s unmistakably him.  Anyone whose childhood was marked by the video for Michael Jackson’s thriller will know that Vincent Price is synonymous with late-night B-movie horror.  His voice on the video wasn’t just another creepy narrator – it represented an homage to a career that became representative of cheesy horror.  Heck, he was so big that he was a guest on the Muppets!

Vincent Price With Severed Head

So, to see this icon prancing around as a love interest in an old noir film was as distracting as having Sauron turn up for the charity ball in a lavender suit and carrying canned goods for the poor.  Perhaps it would have been all right if (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT) his character had turned out to be the murderer after all, and the dorky good-looking guy thing had been an act…  but even this salve is denied the modern viewer.

To that point, of course, Price wasn’t a horror icon, but still, one must retroactively chastise everyone involved in production for not having the foresight to predict it and cast someone else.  After all, having posterity write what we’ve just written about your movie probably wasn’t anyone’s intention.

Those too young to remember Price should definitely watch it, and to understand what we mean in a more relevant way, try to imagine Freddy Krueger (who has been relegated to the slots that Price used to occupy on the late night programming cheesy list) being cast as the shallow, idiotic prince in a Disney princess movie, and you’ll see what I mean.

*Intelligent readers will note that this has never stopped us before.  To them we maturely stick out our tongues and make rude noises before admitting that they might possibly have a point.

Victims, Then and Now

The Seventh Victim


As long-time readers of this site already know, we’ve been watching and reviewing films from the 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die list in approximately chronological order, and we’re currently involved in the 1940s.  Most films on this list have been reviewed to death by critics, so we try to give it a bit of a more global view, using the clearness of hindsight to aid us in the process.

Today’s film isn’t all that well known, and is RKO’s The Seventh Victim, which was billed, back in it’s day (1943), as a horror movie.  This probably isn’t surprising, as the plot centers around a Satanist cult, which, one imagines, was seriously frightening to audiences seventy years ago.  

Seventh Victim - Subway Scene

If it happened to be filmed today, it would probably be classified as a suspense flick rather than a horror movie.  And that brings up an interesting dichotomy in the way the world has evolved.

No one will be surprised to hear that moviegoing audiences are inured to issues that were taboo in the 1940s.  Violence, gore, sex and, yes, Satanism, all need to be VERY extreme to get more than a passing glance in a film.  Even images of sex have gotten so easy to find online that the days of teenagers staying up late in the hope of catching a glimpse of a breast or (wonder of wonders) some pubic hair on late-night cable are long gone – which is likely to kill the air time of Madonna’s Body of Evidence!


The strange thing is that, while this was all going on, the tolerance of society for violence and gore have gone way down.  Today, one can go to jail for the slightest physical confrontation in any part of the civilized world, even if no one is seriously hurt.  And gore?  Let me ask you something: when was the last time you slaughtered your own dinner?

Of course, some will say that violence is still happening, and it’s terrible and the world is such a violent place, and it’s getting worse, and…  breathless pause to see if anyone is listening.

And yes, there are still some wars out there, but they are extremely localized and actual fighting affects a much smaller proportion of the world’s population than ever anything in the 11th century would have (to take a random example).  In fact, things that today would make front-page news in most places, such as a brigand’s attack and murder / rape of the occupants of a caravan, were commonplace occurrences barely of note unless one of the murdered parties was a friend.

The world, despite what alarmists like to state, is not getting more violent.  Quite the contrary.

So why have movies moved so far that The Seventh Victim is more quaint than shocking (still good, just not scary)?  

Gore AND sex...

One theory says that popular media sublimated the fears of the Cold War…  but that’s a bit too much of a sociological leap for us here at CE to make (we tend towards individual interpretations of phenomena – herd patterns are best left to people who study livestock).  So we suggest that either violence has become acceptable as it touches individuals much less than it used to and is therefore fair game for a movie or that the individual need for violence is coming through our mass entertainment.

And Satanism?  Hell, reading their commandments makes them look sane compared to some.  OK, maybe not quite sane…


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