Rather than trying to spoof, mock or even gently tease President Barack Obama–the man who actually holds the highest office in the land–the paper is targeting the administration’s out-of-power critics.

The Onion’s latest Obama humor article taunts those who note how a leader who rails against the rich routinely enjoys the perks that come with his wealth, power and status:

Obama Criticized For Living In Lavish Mansion While Most Americans Struggle To Make Ends Meet

WASHINGTON—Over the past three years, as the sluggish economy has forced many Americans to tighten their belts, President Obama has reportedly enjoyed a lavish personal lifestyle, residing with his family in a 132-room house staffed by a 24-hour security detail, five full-time chefs, and a live-in maid service.

In recent weeks, many of the president’s critics have seized upon the issue, arguing that anyone who sleeps in a sprawling six-level neoclassical mansion covering 18 acres of Washington, D.C.’s most valuable real estate is clearly out of touch with the lives of ordinary citizens.

You see, those silly Obama critics will attack poor Barack on just about any charge. So we should simply ignore them, right?

It’s a classic case of misdirection, a comedic attempt to distract voters from Obama’s lifestyle, including lavish Halloween parties thrown by Hollywood elite and taking money-sucking vacations on our dime.

A comedy institution unafraid of attacking those who share its ideology would have a field day with Obama’s actions. Instead, the folks at The Onion can only see fit to mock the administration’s critics for daring to point out the awkward gap between the president’s rhetoric and his selfish reality.

The New York Post:

A White House “Alice in Wonderland” costume ball — put on by Johnny Depp and Hollywood director Tim Burton — proved to be a Mad-as-a-Hatter idea that was never made public for fear of a political backlash during hard economic times, according to a new tell-all.

“The Obamas,” by New York Times correspondent Jodi Kantor, tells of the first Halloween party the first couple feted at the White House in 2009. It was so over the top that “Star Wars” creator George Lucas sent the original Chewbacca to mingle with invited guests.

The book reveals how any official announcement of the glittering affair — coming at a time when Tea Party activists and voters furious over the lagging economy, 10-percent unemployment rate, bank bailouts and Obama’s health-care plan were staging protests — quickly vanished down the rabbit hole.

That was in October of 2009, five months prior to the film’s release in March of the following year. And yet, with over a hundred million on the line, the publicity-savvy Disney all but ignored an event that would’ve generated a ton of publicity towards the film and most certainly increased the all-important “awareness” studios crave most in the months leading up to the release of a tentpole such as this one.

The answer might lie in Disney’s history of putting partisan politics above shareholder profits. For instance, the studio spent $40 million on the 2006 miniseries “The Path to 9/11,” broadcast it only once to great ratings success, but has since refused to rerun it or even release the DVD. Why? Because Bill and Hillary Clinton are upset that the film exposed mistakes made during the Clinton Administration when it came to stopping Osama bin Laden.

But, you know, Hollywood’s money-driven, not political. It has to be true. The entertainment media told me so.

According to Real Clear Politics, Obama’s approval rating in late October of 2009 was above 51%. More importantly, the President wasn’t upside down with his disapproval higher than approval. So what harm could playing up a White House event do to the film? Of course, I ask that question as though we live in a sane world where Hollywood would ever care about offending half its customers. But even if we lived in a sane world, the question would still apply. No conservative I know would begrudge the studio putting on a party for the children of military personnel.

Obama or no Obama, Disney releasing and promoting publicity shots of a costumed Tim Burton and Johnny Depp delighting the children of our men and women in the military would’ve generated a ton of goodwill towards everyone involved and the film itself. However…

According to news reports and Google, Disney did next to nothing to play this event up.

Why?

Occam’s Razor. I think Disney’s a studio run by left-wing partisans who memory-holed the party for the same reasons I suspect the MSM did — to protect Obama from a public relations hit, especially one during the crucial days leading up to a crucial ObamaCare vote.

They’re all in bed together, and it is not a pretty sight.

I was a bit of a fraidy-cat when I was a kid.  I used to sleepwalk after seeing scary movies, or if that didn’t happen, I would awake-walk into my parents’ room for a hug from Mom.   In order to confront that embarrassing—if amusing—childhood demon, I became a bit of a horror buff.  Hopefully my pain is your gain.

Five Movies to Watch This Halloween

“Return of the Living Dead” (1985)
In this “cult classic,” a group of punk rock-loving teens venture out to pick up a friend from his job at a medical supply shop in Louisville, Kentucky.  When a foreman opens up a military drum that was accidentally sent to the shop—which, oh-by-the-way has an UNDEAD BODY IN IT!!—all zombie-hell breaks loose.

The film is genuinely funny, has a couple of good scares, and a rockin’ soundtrack, but it also injected life into the genre because all the zombies run (fast!) and most of them talk.  Like this one:

Doesn’t she look familiar?  Check out this zombie from “The Walking Dead.”

The B-plot, featuring an Army Colonel on a mysterious, tedious, yet seemingly extremely important mission, is tied up brilliantly in the frightening, apocalyptic conclusion.

But what really puts this film over the top is that it features the best zombie of all time, Tarman.  Gruesome, evil, and with just the right amount of camp, the zombie that first exclaimed “BRRAAAAAIIIIINNNNSS!!” before chowing down on the cerebral cortex of some young punk deserves a place in cinematic lore.

One of the least scary on this list, “Return of the Living Dead” is good for non-horror fans.

“Let the Right One In” (2008)
One of the best vampire films of all time.  It’s a coming-of-age love story—imagine a Swedish pre-teen “Twilight” with a lot less sparkles and a lot more blood-sucking—that has become more relevant today thanks to the left’s obsession with bullying.  Unlike Hollywood celebrities who think whiny PSAs and hate-crime legislation are the ways to snuff out bullies, “Let the Right One In” takes a slightly different approach: fight back with all you have.  I guarantee your jaw hits the floor when the bad guys get their comeuppance.

“Let Me In,” the inappropriately titled American remake, is nearly as good as the original.

“Zombieland” (2009)
Much like how marijuana is a “gateway” drug, “Zombieland” is a gateway horror film.  If you have a significant other who is uneasy with monster movies, show her this to win her over to the genre.  Woody Harrelson, Jesse Eisenberg, Emma Stone, and Abigail Breslin journey across America to an amusement park, hilariously slaughtering the undead in the most creative ways possible.  “Zombieland” is the funniest zombie film I’ve ever seen, and unlike “The Walking Dead,” for example, you become emotionally attached to its unique and sympathetic characters.

It also features one of the greatest cameos ever.

“Dawn of the Dead” (2004)
George Romero’s original is perhaps the ultimate zombie director’s best film, but Zack Snyder’s remake may be the scariest living-dead flick.  Though it’s a massive departure from Romero’s classic—Snyder’s version is lighter on social commentary and heavier on gore—the visionary director of “300” and “Watchmen” (and “Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole“) proves there’s clearly more than one way to skin a cat… or reanimate a corpse.

“The Orphanage” (2007)
An ominous, morally sophisticated character study of a woman coping with the sudden disappearance of her young child.  There isn’t much violence beyond a finger being broken in broad daylight (a truly horrifying scene) and there are no cheapo scares, but impeccable direction from first-timer Juan Antonio Bayona, a moving performance from Spanish actress Belén Rueda, and a monstrous boy wearing a gunny-sack mask make “El Orfanato” truly captivating cinema.

***

More Scary Movies of Note

“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” (1974)
John Nolte’s favorite horror movie, and for good reason.

“28 Days/Weeks Later” (2002/2007)
“28 Days Later” should score points with conservative moviegoers from the very start, when we learn the fastest zombies on two feet are a product of environmental activism gone horribly wrong.  Unfortunately, “Days” squanders that good will in the third act when the military starts trying to rape the women.  The ship is righted with a briskly paced and beautifully shot sequel.  Both are very frightening.

“The Ring” (2002)
The premise of the film sounds gimmicky: teens watch a videotape with a bunch of (really really) creepy images on it, and then they die seven days later.  Stupid… right?  Nuh uh… Start to finish, this is one of the scariest movies ever made.  A never-better Naomi Watts and gorgeously-eerie cinematography make the momentum build to what you think is a satisfying ending, until… what did that creepy little boy just say!?!

“Day of the Dead” (1985)
The third film from the “Godfather of all Zombies” may be a left-wing screed against the military (though a very well done one), but the semi-socialized zombie Bub—who listens to headphones, salutes, and shoots guns—makes “Day” a must-see.  Watch this one after “Return” and let us know whether you think Bub or Tarman is history’s top zombie.

“Gigli“ (2003)
Not a traditional horror film, but this Bennifer vehicle is every bit as ghastly as anything on this list.  There are movies that are so bad that they’re good, there are movies that are so bad that there is no amount of entertainment to be gleaned from them, and then there’s “Gigli.”  Scary.

***

One More to Watch… Any Time

In terms of horror/scary/Halloween movies, “The Exorcist” (1973) is in a class by itself.  Not only is it the scariest movie of all time, it’s a clear articulation of what it means to be a Catholic and the power of faith in God.

More than anything, the story is about Father Damien Karras, a Priest struggling with his own faith, who is called to perform an exorcism on a young girl whose body and mind have been inhabited by a demon.  The demon picked this innocent child to make us despair, and it’s only by overcoming his doubts and putting his full trust in God that Damien is able to triumph over pure evil.

As Christians, all of us question our beliefs periodically, and this portrayal of a priest challenges professors and other left-wing intellectuals who largely consider religious people blind dogmatists.  In fact, I’d argue atheists tend to be much more dogmatic than Christians and Jews because they are more frequently than not unwavering in their denial of God.

“The Exorcist” is vulgar, disgusting, and unrelentingly terrifying, and it’s also one of the greatest stories of faith and sacrifice ever portrayed on film.

That’s why any day of the year is an excellent day for an exorcism.

Happy Halloween!

They unnerved us all the same, in part, by their uniquely creepy soundtracks and penchant for atypical acting. That’s a kind way of saying they boasted indifferent, sometimes amateurish performances.

All of the above apply to ”Zombie,’ the 1979 Italian import sure to grab attention again this Halloween season thanks to its Oct. 24 Blu-ray release. The film, considered an unofficial sequel to 1978’s ‘Dawn of the Dead,’ earned its classic status with one of the strangest sequences in any zombie film. How many times do the undead wrestle tiger sharks?

‘Zombie’ opens with a seemingly abandoned sailing boat drifting into New York harbor. The owner of the boat’s daughter (Tisa Farrow) pairs with a reporter (Ian McCulloch) to find out what happened to her father, last seen doing research on a tropical island. Their journey leads them to that very same island where the locals speak of a voodoo curse bringing the dead back to life.

Island resident Dr. David Menard (Richard Johnson) has seen the dead walking himself, but he dismisses that voodoo talk in favor of hard science. But can the good doctor crack the mystery behind the zombie uprising before they overtake the island?

Director Lucio Fulci’s zombies don’t just stumble across the screen in haphazard fashion. They are dessicated, having spent years, sometimes decades, underground. And it shows via some clever, and vile, close-ups involving flesh-eating worms. ‘Zombie’ manages a measure of restraint in the first two acts, rendering each zombie appearance more potent – and unsettling.

That puts the focus on the ingenious kills – like the doctor’s hysterical wife (Olga Karlatos) enduring a very sharp stick to the eye. Setting such ugliness on a beautiful island only enhances the film’s jittery tone. Add a creepy score which rises up whenever the zombie menace flares, and you’re left with far more chills than other, better acted horror films.

Seen today, ‘Zombie’ appears a sturdy, if unspectacular shocker only due to our culture’s undead overload. But while Fulci clearly had little interest in drawing humanistic work out of his cast, he knew precisely how to maximize the scares with ingenious camera placement and an unflinching approach to zombie snacking.

Note: ‘Zombie,’ uncut and digitally remastered from the original negative, will be playing at midnight Oct. 22 at The Esquire in Denver and Seattle’s Egyptian Theatre (the latter event includes an in-person appearance by ‘Zombie’ co-star McCulloch).

Hey Grandpa, we’re going to let you have this one.

What would Halloween be without nightmares, horribly graphic nightmares that jerk you awake in the middle of the night and allow you to enjoy the even better feeling of realizing, “It was only a dream. It was only a dream.” Co-writer/director Tobe Hooper’s appreciated but still under-appreciated debut masterpiece is the closest any horror film has ever come to truly capturing the experience of an unrelenting, claustrophobic nightmare. But unlike “Last House on the Left” (which I strongly considered putting at number one) the story of five twenty-somethings out for a Texas road trip who meet up with a bizarre cannibal family does not collapse your soul into a black cloud of depression. In fact, it’s just the opposite — the horror of it all exhilarates.

To set us on edge from the word go, the story opens with a menacing and foreboding tone that promises horrible things to come with the help of John Laroquette’s straight-forward, documentary-style voice over (which perfectly matches Daniel Pearl’s gritty, washed-out cinematography) and a series of grotesque photographs taken at a crime scene where a number of grave-robbings have taken place. The photographs flash onto the screen, one after another with an unnerving, deliberate rhythm made even more disturbing by wince-inducing sound effects. It’s into this macabre setting our young protagonists enter – three guys, two girls – driving their Scooby-Doo van. They’ve come to make sure their grandparents’ graves aren’t among those desecrated and to relive some pleasant memories by visiting old childhood haunts.

Sally (Marilyn Burns — one of cinema’s great unheralded screamers) and the wheelchair-bound and childish Franklin (Paul Partain) are brother and sister; the other three are friends and, except for the petulant Franklin, coupled up. They all make the fatal decision, though, of picking up a disturbed hitchhiker who sits in the back of the van to regale them with graphic inside information about the local meat slaughterhouse before staging a strange ritual that involves, among other things, the burning of Franklin’s photograph, the cutting open of his own hand, and finally marking the van with blood after the five freaked out passengers get over their shock and kick the weirdo out.

The local filling station (and barbecue pit – heh, heh) is waiting to be resupplied with gas so the gang is forced to hang around town longer than they would like. One couple decides to kill some time in a local swimming hole but the promise of fuel heard in the sound of a far off generator leads them to a creepy old farmhouse decorated with human bones and clucking chickens who hang in uncomfortably small cages. Before the interior decoration can scare them off, one by one Leatherface, a giant of a man partial to chainsaws and the taste of human flesh, butchers them both.  By the time night falls, Sally and Franklin find themselves on their own and unwittingly head on over to Leatherface’s place to see what’s up.

“Texas Chain Saw Massacre” is the perfect sum of its diabolically twisted and fiercely intense parts, and moves from haunted house chiller (the first three murders), to a crazy slasher film (Leatherface chasing Sally around for what seems like hours), to outright psychological thriller (Sally’s bizarre experience with “grandpa” after she’s captured) like no other horror film I’ve ever seen. You could also argue that Leatherface puts this one-of-a-kind experience into the ranks of a bona fide monster movie, as well.

In the mind’s eye, you might be watching the goriest film ever made, but in reality and in comparison to what we see today, there’s very little actual blood and almost no gore. But that’s the film’s genius, the way it messes with your head and crawls deep under your skin with only a flash of ankle. Contributing to that success is the absolutely brilliant sound design, and not just the myriad of chill-inducing effects that punctuate the most harrowing moments. Seemingly simple things like the source music of twangy old country tunes effortlessly adds an unwelcome heightened reality to the hot, dusty streets, ramshackle buildings, and cast of odd Texas characters. The film’s actual score, which was co-written by Hooper, isn’t all that tuneful and therefore not as memorable as, say,  John Carpenter’s work in “Halloween” or as famous as the shrieking violins in “Psycho,” but when it comes to worming its way into your nervous system it might even be more effective.

Ultimately, what makes “Chain Saw” worthy of my number one is that there’s no other film like it, including an okay 2003 remake that ultimately failed because it just tried too damn hard. Tobe Hooper created something that never had to strain because every element feels so real, like a documentary or a nightmare. And when it’s all over and Leatherface is wildly swinging his chainsaw in a ballet of rage, the shock starts to ebb, the screen pops to black, and the adrenaline of exhilaration starts to pump through your system, the same adrenaline that leaves you flush after a thrilling rollerocaster ride…

I made it. I survived. It wasn’t real…

It was only a movie.

But what a movie.

1. They’re anthropomorphic.

There’s all sorts of beasties under the sun (and moon), but in general I’ve always found that the creepier specimens are the ones which assail you while housed in a human body. Bruce the shark in Jaws, the Blob chasing a young Steve McQueen, or the wide assortment of killer piranhas, rats, and dinosaurs out there don’t hold a candle to things like vampires, werewolves, and zombies — monsters that retain aspects of their humanity even as they terrorize us with their doom-laden, inhuman fates.

2. They’re the living dead.

An adjunct to #1 above. Some monsters are nothing more than exotic animals, others demons associated with the netherworld of some ancient religion or mythology, and still others ordinary humans with a black nullity where their soul and conscience is supposed to be. All provide us with legions of good scares, and may they continue to do so!

But there remains a special type of unease associated with that which was once alive, normal, and often loved as friend or family returning in a degraded state as recognizable as it is hideous. At their best vampires fit this bill, but zombies manage to routinely do so even at their worst, which makes them to my mind more consistently effective on screen or in print.

3. They’ve got contagious cooties.

With many monsters, your primary fear is getting ripped limb from limb. But the truly frightening ones up the ante by the ease with which they can flip you to the dark side. Along with werewolves, zombies have always been the ones offering our intrepid heroes/victims the least margin for error: one bite and you’re out, baby. In the case of werewolves, at least there is a great amount of humanity left, along with the time and wherewithal to control or mitigate your fate. Get nicked by a zombie, however, and it’s game over — an irreversible downhill slide into permanent monsteria.

4. They possess strength in numbers.

Most bloodthirsty fiends are of the single or limited variety, while others assault us by the dozens, hundreds, or even thousands. Only zombies, however, typically manage to completely overwhelm our entire world and way of life in short order, threatening to throw civilization itself into a permanent nightmare.

An added benefit to this is the frequent spectacle of massive, ultra-cool firepower which we get the pleasure of seeing levied against the limitless zombie hordes.

5. Their resistance to the Twilight effect.

Vampires have been defanged via Twilight, True Blood, and any number of other romantic variations on the Dracula theme. Werewolves are often tragic Byronic brooders who ooze a feral sex appeal in between their bouts of lycanthropic mayhem and murder. Horrordom’s vast assortment of serial killers — Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Norman Bates, Freddy Krueger, et al. — ply their crimson trade on sexy damsels in the throes of passion and/or provocative undress that grants the murders a quasi-erotic quality. Even Frankenstein’s monster had his bride (It always strikes me when I watch Bride of Frankenstein how it’s so campy as-is that Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein is almost as much a remake as a send-up).

But zombies steadfastly resist all efforts to sissify, romanticize, or eroticize their essential awfulness. About the closest anyone has come is the late horror author Brian McNaughton, who in his well-regarded collection of short stories The Throne of Bones (1997) did his perverse best to establish believable intimate relations between the living and the dead — although technically his writing centered not on zombies but ghouls (since both George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead [1968] and Max Brooks’ [son of Young Frankenstein director Mel!] novel World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War [2006] use the term ghoul when talking about zombies, it’s an easy distinction to blur).

But even McNaughton’s try resulted in a gilded yet still-disgusting necrophilia inspiring only revulsion in the average reader, rather than the tempting fantasy of hot-blooded Freudian boogeyman sex the revisionists seem to crave. Amidst the plethora of attempts to demythologize and hyper-sexualize our creature features and books, zombies remain wonderfully unredeemable, continuing to serve the purpose for which they were originally created: personify evil and scare the hell out of us.

Happy Halloween!

Author’s Note: I still intend to get back to For Conservative Movie Lovers, but several weeks of intense jury duty plus a lot of overtime at work has left me unable to get the requisite reading, viewing, and writing done to my satisfaction. Hopefully soon.

There are a lot of films that scared us as kids, and still scare us. Many of the films today are far too graphic for my tastes. Heck, most of television is, too, for that matter. So, I should say right at the outset that I’m not a fan of gore, not in any way shape or form. I know some folks out there are big on the stuff, but not me. Sure, I’ve seen some, the classic Herschell Gordon Lewis, Romero and Savini works, but none of the modern multi-sequel films that grace our theaters with single word titles. I don’t mind being scared. As most would agree, we all need a good scare every now and then. It’s good for you. It’s thrilling. But gore isn’t thrilling for me. It’s sickening. I like to be thrilled, I don’t wish to be sick. Besides, I’ve seen enough of the footage and descriptions of films like “Saw” and “Hostel,” which I rebel against, regardless of how “intelligent” or “clever” they are reported to be.

So, as I began to write this essay, as the wind and rain hit my window, I started to think on things that scare me. Matt Damon came to mind. Not because he’s scary or anything, of course, but because I noticed just the other day that the popular actor announced, quite out of the blue, that he’s not interested in working on films that have gratuitous violence in them.

He said, “I always look at the violence (in a script). I don’t want it to be gratuitous because I do believe that has an effect on people’s behavior. I really do believe that and I have turned down movies because of that.”

Wow.

I had to stop for a second after I first saw that, since I associate him with films which contain explosive, deadly violence. Right now, there are very few characters more lethal than Bourne for their efficiency in killing people to death, at least in the main stream. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who noticed the incongruity between his words and his roles. Damon’s statement that aside from Bourne, he has turned down many-a-script that contained violence could very well be true. I have to take him at his word, since I’m sure he receives tons of scripts every day that have him climbing, kicking and wrenching the feathers out of very bad good guys from Finland to Fuji. So, I asked myself why would he take this suddenly public stand? This was the first time I had seen an A-list actor, a very liberal A-list actor, at that, confessing such a view in public and to a news outlet, no less. Stunning. No other word to describe it.

Two days later, I saw a small news piece where Nicole Kidman was basically saying the same thing, not that she turns down violent scripts, but that she believes media influences behavior:

“Asked if the movie industry has “played a bad role,” Kidman said “probably,” but quickly added that she herself doesn’t. “I can’t be responsible for all of Hollywood but I can certainly be responsible for my own career,” she said.

Wait a minute.

So here were two very big stars, stating in no uncertain terms that media influences behavior, and can do so in bad ways, two days apart. This, after years and years of denying it and ridiculing those who believe media plays a huge part in influencing behavior, our culture, they come out with this. Two days apart!  As long as I can remember remembering, I’ve read and heard from professors, media experts, authors, artists and filmmakers, from friends and foe alike that media doesn’t influence. Period. End of story. Get over it, etc.

To be fair to those two actors, they didn’t deny it or ridicule others, but their industry, Hollywood, has made that denial, that firm stance, the unmovable rampart against the charges that their product, their message is increasingly detrimental, that it’s screwing up our kids and us.

So, I had to wonder why would not one, but two big celebrities come out with very similar statements mere days apart. All I could think of was they want to be on the right side of the facts when some soon-to-be-released study by an organization embraced by Hollywood, such as Harvard, Yale, or Jon Stewart hits the net or news stands. Who knows? But, as I looked out through the glass at the dark foreboding skies, I suddenly remembered something. I remembered the recent news on severely declining box office receipts and DVD sales. I remembered John Nolte’s essay and all the others on the subject. And then it all clicked. “I know what’s going on here,” I said to my reflection in the window. Fear is what’s going on here.

Which leads me to something almost as scary as Hollywood actors making statements to the press. A movie that scared me with very little more than fear. No blood or violence or graphic anything. Just good old fashioned fear.

I’m not a huge fan of “The Blair Witch Project,” but I do give the filmmakers kudos for their idea, for their execution of it, and for their spunk. I hate spunk (No, just kidding, I love spunk, but I can’t hear that without thinking of Lou Grant’s famous reply to Mary). Anyway, the filmmakers of  “The Blair Witch Project” mentioned some of the things that inspired them in their “fresh approach” to producing their now famous hoax film. Among the lot was an overlooked little film of the 70s.  I had noticed the similarity of the film that they mentioned and their own hugely successful project right off the bat. I noticed it minutes into their wooded project. So, I was glad to see they acknowledged it at least.

The Legend of Boggy Creek

This little gem scared the dickens out of me as a kid.  For those who haven’t seen it, I won’t ruin it, if that’s even possible, with any spoilers. But I will give you a very brief rundown of it, just so you know where I’m coming from and why.  To a boy, it aroused tremendous fear; to an adult, I wonder about where that fear comes from.

The film starts out with a disclaimer that “This is a true story.” Right there, you got me. I’m already hooked. I’m not sure why that is – undoubtedly an expert psychologist can explain it with some long words that will take another expert psychologist to interpret. I’ll leave the business of that to them and just be satisfied with knowing it’s a swell gimmick with a set-up that can’t lose.

After a few dark, and yes, boggy images of a swamp, dead trees and scenes of late Autumn, a scene Andrew Wyatt or Charles Sheeler might paint on a depressing day, we get a young boy in denim overalls, the kind Opie would wear, and looking like a lot of kids looked in the 70s, running across a golden, sunlit field. He’s not goin’ fishin’ and he’s not havin’ fun. In fact, he looks terrified. We hear howls and hoots of various animals echoing off in the distance as he runs along. He makes it to a country store where the local gentry, the older men are sitting around chin wagging. Out of breath, he blurts out that his mama sent him to get help, because “there’s some kinda bayou man down by the woods and the creek.”

The men laugh it off and send the boy on his way, certain it’s just the overactive imaginations of mother and child. He runs back home across the same fields with the sun now setting and the spaces between the trees getting gloomier by the minute. Suddenly, he stops when he hears a sound echoing in the distance. We hear it too. It’s the angry howling of the beast.

In a narration reminiscent of Earl Hamner Jr., a comforting male voice-over describes his little town and how it was when he was a kid, that kid. The scenes are of pleasant fields, trees, and woods. It’s a picturesque though remote “neck of the woods.” Playful country music is used to make us feel at home, down home in this place known as Fouke, Arkansas, population 350. This, he tells us, is his recollection of what happened to that town back when he was seven years old. The comforting voice of the narrator goes on to welcome us in, in a neighborly way, describing the post office and the gas station, the school, garage, motel and a couple of cafes “where the men stop-by to discuss the fish they caught, or the duck, quail or deer they’ve hunted.”  He then introduces some of the good sturdy folk of Fouke and how most are “farmers or ranchers.” Not exactly the kind that scare easily. Again, a good set-up.

He sums it up with the killer line: “Fouke is a right, pleasant place to live… until the sun goes down.”

What happens after that isn’t so picturesque at all. We get a documentary style format showing a variety of the characters, real or imagined, that the story presents as true. All sorts of recollections of dead animals, mauled hogs, pet dogs and others that were either found scared to death, ripped apart like rag dolls or just plain disappeared. The characters whose names are displayed on screen all seem trustworthy and basic, simple folk, not the kind who want publicity. And it’s all shot as if it came off the same reel as that Paterson big foot footage we’ve all seen.

We are then treated to a variety of episodes where the creature, the Fouke Monster, as it came to be called, terrorizes the locals in various ways. These “reenactments” based on our trusted narrator’s words along with the very amateur quality of the production add to its realism. Descriptions by farmers of 200-pound hogs carried over barbed wire, dogs and cats slain wet our appetite setting us up for the real big hit, which doesn’t really strike us so much as it dampens, like wet socks or a soaked sleeping bag on a camping trip.

The narrator further sets the tone with his ominous, “I doubt if you could find a lonelier, spookier place in this country than down around Boggy Creek.”

Sure, there are some sudden shocking moments, some classic fright magic, but it’s all a consequence of the set-ups we were treated to. Without them, the frights would not last much longer than the frames they took to show, which are minimal. The film really doesn’t show much at all, actually. But the implication of what is “out there” and “running on two legs” is clear and never far from our minds. A monster is stalking the woods at night. Is it man or beast? What does it want? Is it going to hurt us?

There’s no teen angst, no sex scenes and no hot tubs. There are no rowdy bullies who get their just desserts after picking on the cute couple. No car chases or explosions. No special weaponry or resourcefulness to make any. There isn’t even a gruff and disbelieving sheriff who always finds out the hard way how wrong he was to dismiss the whole thing. Nope, none of that stuff. What there is are very average, simple, vulnerable people in cabins or mobile homes, far from telephones or neighbors who all alone, or in small groups, get the stuffing scared out of them by something outside. There’s also fierce hunting dogs whimpering and turning back at the first whiff of the monster, motorists narrowly missing the creature as he runs across the road and more vignettes adding to the overall feeling of fear. There’s also a very odd musical segment that might very well be the scariest thing in the movie! The entire film is really nothing more than a loosely connected string of “documented” incidents described in a fashion not unlike a darker episode of
“In Search of…” (which by no strange coincidence was another inspiration to the filmmakers of “The Blair Witch Project”).

I saw this film with my brother and sisters. I was a small boy, not unlike the lad depicted. And even though I exited the theater into a hot, hazy and bustling normal afternoon in the city, bereft of anything wooded or rustic, I was still very anxious to get home as fast as possible. I was certain that the Fouke Monster, that “huge hairy creature watching from the shadows” was somewhere out there, behind a parked car or hiding in a dark stairwell waiting to rip my neck out like he did those dogs, which we never actually saw him do. I really didn’t see much, did I? But, boy did it scare me. And perhaps, sometimes, when the sun goes down and the wind howls, like the now all grown-up little boy says in the film, “and it scares me now, too”

The word comes down to us from the Old Roman, horrere, which means literally “to stand on end” (as in hair) or “to shiver,” whether from fear or cold – Ovid refers to the “chill-bearing breath” of the North Wind (Metamorphosis, I.65).

Halloween is a unique holiday, marked for the celebration of the chill bearing, when demons and witches are allowed to come out to play and scare the bejezzus out of us – or at least, that’s how it used to be.

Over the last decade or so, Halloween has become less about creep and more about camp; Dracula and Frankenstein costumes replaced by Octomom and Obama masks (OK, those are more scary). What I want to do here is help those who would like go old school this year, and have a truly frightful All Hallows’ Eve.

(First suggestion – avoid bars. Like St. Patrick’s Day and New Year’s, Halloween brings out the amateur drinkers, a more loathsome species than any undead thing you may encounter. No, Halloween is best spent alone with someone special to snack on in the dark, with something scary to read, listen to, or watch.)

Film

For those in the movie mood (and who isn’t?), Halloween provides a dilemma – a horror-fest is definitely called for, but in no other genre is the crap/gold ration so heavily weighted towards the fecal. Rest easy – I have done the hard work for you, and watched hundreds of hours of horror, and can heartily recommend these selections:

The Ring, 2002 – Don’t let anyone tell you the Japanese original (Ringu) is better – Naomi Watts is perfect here in a classic ghost tale, an exquisite mixture of supernatural and technology – literally, ghost out of the machine. Gave me (me!) a nightmare.

Halloween, 1978 – Forget the atrocious recent Rob Zombie remakes and stick to the original low budget, John Carpenter-helmed masterpiece, about an escaped mental patient who comes back to torment his home town. Carpenter single-handedly invents the slasher genre; often imitated, never surpassed.

Salem’s Lot, 1979 – This adaptation of Stephen King’s novel, about a small New England town invaded by –  and then infested with – vampires, was directed by Tobe Hooper as a television mini-series. Constrained by network censors from going the blood and gore route, Hooper is forced to concentrate on atmosphere and character, with terrific, terrifying results. Among the best – and least appreciated – of modern horror films.

Rosemary’s Baby, 1968 – Featuring more than one Oscar-calibre performance, this claustrophobic tale of a diabolical plot has lost none of its paranoid power forty years later. (Note: For those who refuse to watch any of Polanski’s work out of principle, feel free to substitute The Exorcist for equally successful Satanic fun).

Let The Right One In, 2008 – Based on a 2004 Swedish novel of the same name, this award winning film of “romantic horror,” about a young boy who befriends an undead girl next door, has rightfully been described as one of the best vampire movies of all time. Touching, unnerving and gruesome, it is unlike anything you have ever seen.

Night of The Living Dead, 1968 – Best. Zombies. Ever. Period.

Music

So that should be more than enough to watch. But what to listen to, on Halloween?  Here a couple of spine-tingling tunes:

Katch 22 by Alien Sex Fiend – Mr. and Mrs Fiend usually serve up their unique blend of electronic horror-rock with a generous helping of winks and chuckles, but not this time; Katch 22 is a lumbering beast arisen form the sea, a booming prophesy of doom.

Cervix Couch by Christian Death – Cervix Couch comes in two versions; the original, from the album “Catastrophe Ballet,” is a sparse dirge evoking stone staircases and empty white beds. The second, an electronic remix titled the Spahn Ranch Mix, is completely different – but even more unsettling.

Double Dare by Bauhaus – This magisterial masterpiece lurches to life in fits and sputters, like some sulfurous submarine coming to life before plunging into the icy depths – with your soul. Peter Murphy rages against – well, everything, and for once, he seems dead serious. I dare you to listen.

Wolf Moon, by Type O Negative – The Brooklyn-based quartet delivers a beautiful, haunting paean to Werewolves, autumn, and the female reproductive cycle (yep) from their fantastically under-rated album “October Rust.”  Beware…the woods….at night.

(For those in a dancing mood, try Everyday Is Halloween by Ministry, and Now I’m Feeling Zombified by Alien Sex Fiend.)

Books

For those with the quaint passion for papyrus, since we have recently celebrated the bicentennial of Edgar Allan Poe’s birth, and this October marks the 160th anniversary of his death, selections from the master are more than fitting.

Poe’s famous tales, Masque of the Red Death, The Tell Tale Heart, etc. are all grand.  But I suggest Ligeia, his masterpiece and one of the more exquisitely wrought short stories in all the world – and strangely little known for all that.

For verse, you of course can’t go wrong with The Raven, but check out the lesser known but still beautiful Gothic chimes Ulalume, The Haunted Palace, and The Valley of Unrest – you will be well rewarded.

H.P. Lovecraft was Poe’s disciple – and not quite his equal – but  who nevertheless wrote some very effective horror/sci-fi fiction. For me, the much-vaunted Cthulhu mythos is far less effective than his shorter, stand alone tales. My favorites include the ekphrastic duo The Music of Erich Zann and Pickman’s Model, both of which can be devoured in a single sitting.

And of course, it doesn’t get any scarier than the Great Bard’s Macbeth. It is amazing how feverish and focused this allegedly cursed play reads – the cackle of the witches can still be heard long after the book is shut and the lights go out.

There you have it, kiddies, some chill-bearing fun to put the fright back into your All Hallows’ night. Now go forth, and reclaim Halloween for all the goblins and ghouls – remember, on this night, even the devil deserves his due.

Happy Halloween!

In this episode, “NewsBusted” covers: President Obama, Halloween, Media Research Center Staff, Illegal Alien Costume, Republican National Committee, White House Payoffs, ObamaCare, Safe School Czar, Iranian Foreign Minister Mottaki, Ambulance Fees, and Michael Moore.

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Note: No children were actually sent to Guantanamo Bay during the making of this movie.