Behind the Couch

He locked away the Necronomicon with a shudder of disgust, but the room still reeked with an unholy and unidentifiable stench. 'As a foulness shall ye know them,' he quoted. Yes - the odour was the same as that which had sickened him at the Whateley farmhouse less than three years before. He thought of Wilbur, goatish and ominous, once again, and laughed mockingly at the village rumours of his parentage.  'Inbreeding?' Armitage muttered half-aloud to himself. 'Great God, what simpletons! Show them Arthur Machen's Great God Pan and they'll think it a common Dunwich scandal! But what thing - what cursed shapeless influence on or off this three-dimensional earth - was Wilbur Whateley's father? Born on Candlemas - nine months after May Eve of 1912, when the talk about the queer earth noises reached clear to Arkham - what walked on the mountains that May night? What Roodmas horror fastened itself on the world in half-human flesh and blood?'  Despite...

With its blushless exploration of adult themes such as sado-masochism, pain and pleasure, and its searing imagery of grisly body-modification and skinless resurrections, Hellraiser marked writer/director Clive Barker as an extraordinarily singular voice in horror. Based upon his novella The Hellbound Heart , it tells of individuals who seek the most extreme forms of self-gratifying pleasure before losing their lives (and souls) to a group of sinister, self-mutilating figures from another dimension. To say bloodshed ensues is a vast understatement. While the film boasts a deliciously gothic score courtesy of Christopher Young, Barker had originally commissioned British industrial outfit Coil to score the film. The ‘bowel-churning’ soundscape they delivered wasn’t considered commercial enough by the studio, though the band later released it in various collections of their work. Head over to Paracinema to read about the unused Hellraiser score and listen to a couple of tracks. ...

Back in 2007, an independently produced magazine focusing on all things ‘genre cinema’ modestly made its way onto the shelves of various indie retailers across New York City. Six years later and said independently produced magazine is still going strong and, more importantly, has still managed to retain its unique perspective. Each lushly produced issue of Paracinema mines the depths of genre cinema by way of a series of essays and features on niche cinema, examining, celebrating and promoting films all too often relegated to the side-lines. Films deemed difficult, dangerous or just plain dire by more mainstream publications, are lovingly dissected and discussed without prejudice or delusion. Issue 20 (!) of Paracinema is now available to pre-order and includes the likes of: A Serbian Film: Transgressive Horror in the Internet Age by Thomas Duke Juice Dogs & Erotic Trauma: An Exploration into Stephen Sayadian’s Nightdreams and Dr. Caligari by Heather Drain The Vehi...

Barbara Steele, Daria Nicolodi and Edwige Fenech are but several women that spring to mind when contemplating Italian genre films. Moving behind the camera though, women are much less represented; in fact their presence is downright scant. There are however a few notable individuals who have proved they’re just as able to create cinematic shocks as the boys. One such woman is composer Nora Orlandi. Orlandi’s jazz-infused score for Sergio Martino’s dazzling giallo The Strange Vice of Mrs Wardh , enhances the decadent story, and mirrors the dark sensuality pulsing at the heart of it. Head over to Paracinema to read my review. While you’re there, why not pick up issue 19 of Paracinema Magazine. Inside you’ll find the likes of Aural Enigmas: Sound Design in Ti West’s The Innkeepers by Todd Garbarini, and  Corpse Fucking Art: A Guide to Necrophilia in Horror Cinema by Samm Deighan. It also includes my own feature, What’s In A Name? The Rise and Decline of Hollywood Fall Guy ...

Sam Raimi’s low budget, splattery shocker Evil Dead (1981) tells of a group of friends who, while staying at a remote cabin in the woods, unwittingly unleash demonic forces which possess and mutilate them one by one. The combination of slapstick humour, inventive camerawork and splashy make-up effects ensured the film much controversy upon release - though it has since attained cult status. With the remake still riding high at the box office, I thought it appropriate to revisit Raimi’s original film – hailed by Stephen King as ‘ferociously original’ – and explore its creepy soundtrack by Joseph LoDuca. Utilising both analog synthesizers and more traditional instrumentation, LoDuca’s score is rife with violent, Herrmannesque strings and a diabolical mischievousness, perfectly enhancing the sadistically impish shenanigans which ooze, slosh and spatter throughout the story. Head over to Paracinema.net to read my full review and listen to an excerpt of the score. While you’re ther...

With its groundbreaking amalgamation of cyberpunk aesthetics and film noir conventions, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner is one of the most revered and influential sci-fi films of all time. Just as central to its continuing appeal as Scott’s breathtaking visuals and its provocative themes of identity, is Vangelis’s ‘symphonic electronic’ score. Given that Blade Runner is essentially a story about what it means to be human; his music underpins the more spiritual aspects of the narrative, and serves as the heart of the film. It’s synthesised, effervescent soundscapes effortlessly convey the alienation and longing of the characters - ‘human’ or otherwise. Head over to Paracinema.net to read my full review of this immensely evocative soundtrack and listen to an excerpt. While you’re there, don’t forget to check out the latest issue of Paracinema Magazine , now available to pre-order. Issue 19 includes my essay on the career of Alan Smithee, as well as pieces on Kill Bill , John Carpen...

Issue 19 of Paracinema Magazine is now available to pre-order. Inside this strikingly covered issue – which includes not one, but two features on Quentin Tarantino’s bloody revenge saga Kill Bill ( It’s Complicated: An In Depth Look at the Evolution of Bill and The Bride’s Turbulent Relationship by Matthew House and The Devil’s in The DeVAS: The Many Foes of Beatrix Kiddo by Zachary Kelley) – you’ll also find the likes of John Carpenter and the Apocalypse: A Study of Four Films by Justin LaLiberty, Aural Enigmas: Sound Design in Ti West’s The Innkeepers by Todd Garbarini and Corpse Fucking Art: A Guide to Necrophilia in Horror Cinema by Samm Deighan. I contributed the essay  What’s In A Name? The Rise and Decline of Hollywood Fall Guy Alan Smithee . If you desire to pick up a copy, head over to Paracinema.net to do just that. Support Independent Publishing! 

In this month's edition of Audiodrome: Music in Film , I take a look at Roy Ayer’s astoundingly funky score for Jack Hill’s 1973 blaxploitation classic Coffy . Starring Pam Grier as a nurse who turns vigilante on the dealers who get her younger sister addicted to drugs, Coffy combines exploitative thrills with sly social commentary and barbed pot-shots at police corruption. The film made Grier into a genre icon, and its psychedelic-funk score brilliantly showcases Ayers signature vibes. Head over to Paracinema to read the full review and treat your ears to a track. While you’re there, why not pick up a copy of the latest issue of Paracinema Magazine ? Inside you’ll find damn fine reading in the shape of articles and essays such as The Goriest Film You Never Saw by Jose Cruz, Marriage Bites: Lesbian Vampires and the Failure of Heterosexuality in Daughters of Darkness by Erin Wiegand and “When Single Shines the Triple Sun”: Duality and Self Discovery in The Dark Crystal b...

In this month's edition of Audiodrome: Music in Film , I take a look at Icelandic singer/songwriter Björk’s astoundingly beautiful soundtrack to Dancer in the Dark ; Lars Von Trier’s unsentimental deconstruction of the Hollywood musical – and devastating attack on the American Dream. It tells of a young Czech immigrant in 60’s America who makes the ultimate sacrifice for her young son. Various musical numbers, composed and performed by Björk, burst from the narrative as her character’s flights of fancy and day-dreams. Drawing inspiration from classical music, and of course classic musicals, Björk’s score for Dancer in the Dark is one of her finest pieces of work. Head over to Paracinema.net to read the full review. While you’re there, why not pick up issue 18 of Paracinema Magazine . Articles include When Single Shines the Triple Sun: Duality and Self Discovery in The Dark Crystal by Christine Makepeace, Marriage Bites: Lesbian Vampires and the Failure of Heterosexuality...

"Mouldy mildew, mother of mouthmuck!" Issue 18 of Paracinema Magazine is now available to pre-order... Packed full of ridiculously good ‘letters that stay’ on all kinds of genre cinema, this issue includes the likes of When Single Shines the Triple Sun: Duality and Self Discovery in The Dark Crystal by Christine Makepeace, Marriage Bites: Lesbian Vampires and the Failure of Heterosexuality in Daughters of Darkness by Erin Wiegand, 3D’s Use and Potential in Today’s Cinematic Landscape by Caleb McCandless, Speed Racer: The Art of Absurdity by Patrick Smith and The Goriest Film You Never Saw by Jose Cruz. Head over to Paracinema.net and pre-order a copy. Support independent publishing, or, you know, face the wrath of the Skeksis! 

In keeping with Paracinema's Hitchcock Appreciation Month , this month's instalment of Audiodrome focuses on Bernard Herrmann's mesmerising score for Vertigo (1958). Hitchcock's classic tells of a retired acrophobic detective - played by Jimmy Stewart - investigating the strange activities of a friend's wife (Kim Novak). As he becomes completely bewitched by her, the film becomes a haunting rumination on the concept of obsession. Of the score, Martin Scorsese commented: "Hitchcock's film is about obsession, which means that it's about circling back to the same moment, again and again … And the music is also built around spirals and circles, fulfilment and despair. Herrmann really understood what Hitchcock was going for — he wanted to penetrate to the heart of obsession." Head over to Paracinema.net to read my article on Herrmann's masterful score and listen to an excerpt. While you're there, check out some of the reviews/articles ...

John Carpenter and Alan Howarth, circa 1981. This month marks the first anniversary of the Audiodrome: Music in Film series over at Paracinema.net . As such, we wanted to do something special to mark the occasion. When the idea of producing a podcast was suggested, we decided to focus on the work of a composer who has not only a long and wide-ranging career in film soundtracks, but whose work is distinctive, original and enjoyable to listen to. John Carpenter is not only a renowned filmmaker responsible for some of genre cinema’s most influential and entertaining titles – he is also an accomplished musician. Experimenting with analog synthesizers and digital synthesis at a time when the technology was only just beginning to be explored, his trailblazing early soundtracks highlight him as a true pioneer of electronic music. Head over to Paracinema.net to download the podcast , and let me guide you through Carpenter's moody scores, film by film.  And while you're ther...

Issue 17 of Paracinema Magazine is now available to pre-order. As ever, its packed to the gills with all manner of insightful and provocative articles and essays on genre cinema. Amongst the titles in this issue are “Endemic Madness”: Subversive 1930s Horror Cinema by Jon Towlson , You Can Clean Up the Mess, But Don’t Touch My Coffin: The Legacy of Sergio Corbucci’s Django by Ed Kurtz and I Don’t Want to See What I Hear: Paranoia and Personality Eradication in The Conversation by Todd Garbarini. Issue 17 also contains one of my own essays, an examination of the Gothic influences of Sergio Martino’s giallo Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key , titled Black Cats and Black Gloves.  Sound good? Head over to Paracinema.net to pre-order your copy now. Go on, support independent publishing.

This month’s edition of Audiodrome focuses on Bruno Nicolai’s hauntingly beautiful score for Sergio Martino’s gothic-flavoured giallo, Your Vice Is A Locked Room And Only I Have The Key . Loosely adapted from Edgar Allan Poe’s The Black Cat , it stars Edwige Fenech as a scheming vixen, whose arrival at the crumbling villa of her alcoholic uncle seems to spark a slew of bloody murders. Nicolai's harpsichord-driven score eschews the usual jazz-inflected music associated with the giallo for something altogether more clandestine and melancholic, perfectly underpinning the macabre desires at the heart of the story. Head over to Paracinema.net to read my review and listen to a track.  While you’re there, why not pick up issue 16 of Paracinema Magazine . Amongst the abundance of articles and essays on genre cinema you’ll find the likes of Images of Horror and Lust in Ken Russell’s The Devils by Samm Deighan, The Films of René Laloux: Notes on the Golden Age of French Science Fic...

This month’s Audiodrome focuses on Johan Söderqvist’s chillingly beautiful score for Swedish vampire film Let The Right One In . Based on the book by John Ajvide Lindqvist, the story concerns Oscar, a lonely little boy, and his tentative relationship with Eli, an odd little girl who turns out to be a centuries old vampire. Söderqvist’s score gently chills the spine with icily subtle moments of terror, and thaws it out again with richly melancholy themes performed by the Slovak National Symphony Orchestra. It utilises spine-tingling sounds such as electric guitar played with a bow and a bass waterphone to eerily beautiful effect. Head over to Paracinema.net to read my full review and listen to an excerpt of the score. While you’re there, why not order yourself a copy of Paracinema issue 16 . There’s an abundance of in-depth articles on the likes of Ken Russell’s The Devils, Assault of the Killer Bimbos , found footage and mockumentary horror, disaster movies, French Science Fi...

Gerard Damiano’s moody 'porno-chic' title The Devil in Miss Jones (1973) straddles an odd divide between art house and hardcore pornography. Upon release it was described as "More morality play than masturbation aid." It follows the tragic story of Justine Jones (Georgina Spelvin), who dies by suicide only to end up facing an eternity in Hell because she took her own life. She insists that if she’s given another chance she can ensure she lives a life that truly warrants such eternal damnation. So begins an X-rated and oddly emotional odyssey of lust. The lush piano driven score courtesy of Alan Shuman highlights the melancholy at the heart of the story and negates typical conventions of kinky Seventies porn soundtracks. Head over to Paracinema.net to read my review of Shuman’s wistful score.  While you’re there, why not pre-order a copy of issue 16 of Paracinema Magazine? It’s packed with in-depth critiques and articles on the likes of The Devils, Assault of...

Issue 16 of Paracinema Magazine is now available to pre-order. Amongst the myriad articles are This Ain’t Hollywood XXX: The Cultural Significance of the Porn Parody by Justin LaLiberty; “Images of Horror and Lust” in Ken Russell’s The Devils by Samm Deighan; Rehabilitating Daddy, or How Disaster Movies say it’s OK to Trust Authority by Jon ( Shocks to the System: Subversive Horror Films ) Towlson; The Films of René Laloux: Notes on the Golden Age of French Science Fiction by Derek Godin; plus much, much more. There’s also my essay,  Shadowy Suggestion in the Weird West: Val Lewton’s Apache Drums.  Sound good? Fancy picking up a copy? Head over to Paracinema.net and pre-order one now . Support independent publishing! 

It’s that time of the month again to head over to Paracinema.net and check out the latest instalment of Audiodrome . This month I take a look at Angelo Badalamenti’s evocative and moody score for Fire Walk With Me , David Lynch’s dark and disturbing prequel to his cult TV show, Twin Peaks . The film follows the harrowing last seven days in the life of high school home coming queen Laura Palmer, as she descends into a nightmarish abyss of drugs, prostitution and abuse. Fire Walk With Me marked a drastic shift in tone from the beloved series: gone are the cherry pies and damn fine coffees, and all that remains is an unsettling tale of domestic abuse, incest and filicide. Badalamenti’s jazz-based score perfectly immerses us in this strange world, which while dangerous and dark, is not without its moments of abstract beauty. While you’re over at Paracinema’s online lair, why not pick up the latest issue ? It’s really rather good and all the articles address the theme of revenge in...