Tag Archives: Wes Craven

‘Fear In The Dark’: Horror’s Impact From Those Who Know Best

The horror genre doesn’t often get the praise it deserves. It’s rare to see a horror film in the running for an Oscar, and those that make the cut win even less often. The source of this underestimation is that horror can be both controversial and undeniably polarizing. Diehard fans swear by their genre of choice and enthusiastically look forward to new releases. Meanwhile, those who don’t understand the appeal of horror movies believe the genre has nothing to offer audiences. However, the 1991 TV documentary Fear In The Dark might make some naysayers into horror believers. 

This unassuming film sparks a meaningful conversation about the history of horror, starting with how literary figures like Edgar Allen Poe still influence films today. It treats viewers to a surprisingly thorough genre history without losing momentum or drowning in small details. Despite its brevity, the film covers many iconic characters throughout the last few centuries, from Bram Stoker’s Dracula to the villains of modern-day slasher films. Along the way, audiences learn small tidbits about the science and emotion behind some of the genre’s most successful films. 

Although beloved The Lord Of The Rings alum Christopher Lee provides excellent narration, the real draw of this film is the string of scary movie powerhouses that weigh in on the genre. Multiple directors—including Dario Argento, John Carpenter, and William Friedkin—present their theories about why horror films are so powerful and memorable. They discuss their own work, of course, but also provide commentary on the horror movie world as a whole. 

However, Fear In The Dark isn’t just a discourse between directors. The film also features Psycho author Robert Bloch and psychologist Dr. Glenn Wilson, who contribute unique perspectives outside the directorial sphere. Even a handful of self-proclaimed horror movie fans appear in short interviews, sharing their thoughts on the viewer experience for several iconic movies. Unfortunately, these fan testimonials don’t receive as much screen time as they deserve, but they still create an easy path for audiences to see themselves represented in the conversation. Many featured fans are in their teens or early twenties, but their feelings about scary movies will be universal for most viewers. 

The relatively loose format of this film gives it an intimate feel that will appeal to true horror lovers. Rather than watching each expert speak separately, the film jumps back and forth between different clips with shared topics. Spliced-together interviews feel like cohesive conversations in several parts. Overall, the format provides viewers with a rare way to compare the opinions of some of the most influential voices in horror. In addition, the documentary covers multiple social and psychological topics that invite viewers to take this often-overlooked genre more seriously. 

One of the documentary’s most intriguing points is that watching horror films is about control. Wes Craven theorizes that horror films don’t captivate us because they make us afraid but because they allow us to vent our daily fears. In his reckoning, the world is a scary place, but horror movies are a vehicle through which we can release our pent-up anxieties in the manner we choose. John Carpenter seconds that assertion, noting that the genre especially appeals to younger audiences facing the daunting task of stepping foot into adulthood for the first time. 

Later in the documentary, the question of how horror movies do (and don’t) influence real life spills over into issues of morality and crime. Multiple directors discuss the so-called “psychopath movies” of the 1970s and the notorious serial killers such as Jack the Ripper and Ed Gein’s influence on the genre. For example, the depth of Hannibal Lecter’s personality in The Silence of the Lambs echoes traits common in some real-life criminals. This proximity to reality is part of Lecter’s undeniable staying power and occurs with many horror film villains, even some that audiences might not expect. John Carpenter describes a phone call he received from a fan who wanted to meet “The Shape” from Halloween and firmly believed that this killer was a real person. 

In discussing the rise of psychopath-centered horror films, the documentary also focuses on the recurring theme of killers claiming the lives of adolescent girls. Although they don’t mention the “final girl” trope by name, a few subjects touch on the idea that only morally righteous characters survive in certain films. For example, Wes Craven frames the somewhat puritanical leans of some horror films as one of the genre’s shortcomings, and The Rats author James Herbert cites the Halloween franchise as an example of cinema that discourages promiscuity through characters’ fates. However, Herbert does note that killing off promiscuous characters in their most vulnerable moments does create more visual interest for audiences, a point that John Carpenter seconds in a subsequent clip. 

As actress Barbara Steele explains, society’s attitude towards female sexuality significantly impacts its prevalence in horror films. She posits that elements of hatred and fear underpin people’s desires, and this mixture of feelings is potent. Dario Argento explains his own fascination with femininity, which he finds pretty mysterious and thus compelling. Indeed, Argento’s “final girls” are some of the most dimensional examples of their trope, especially Suzy Bannon of Suspiria.

Although the documentary highlights a variety of classic movies, Psycho gets a special mention in several sections. The plausibility of the film’s shower scene has sealed its place among the most terrifying scary movie moments in modern history, and Fear In The Dark takes time to praise this classic moment. Robert Bloch notes that “…people were generally unprepared for what they were about to see…” when the film premiered and recalls hearing audiences scream in theaters. 

Naturally, censorship comes to light in discussions of how horror movies may impact viewers. Several directors weigh the value of subtlety in adhering to good taste and building tension. However, Clive Barker presents a fresh perspective on this idea. He discusses his preference for overtly showing the grotesque parts of his films instead of leaving them to the imagination. His explanation for Hellraiser is that audiences can view the monsters in a new light after the initial shock of their appearance. A horror movie fan later notes that Pinhead becomes a sympathetic Christ-like figure for her as the film unfolds. In short, his humanity becomes apparent, and viewers can see a reflection of themselves even in the dark world of the Cenobites. 

Towards the film’s end, the brief discussion about special effects is an instance in which Fear In The Dark dates itself. Although directors used many effective techniques then, 1991 was long before CGI. As a result, the special effects discussion is more of an afterthought and doesn’t receive the same attention as the other topics. However, Clive Barker’s description of his excitement in the presence of special effects professionals provides a deeper appreciation for creating believable practical effects. 

Since Fear In The Dark first aired, special effects have come a long way, but so have horror movie themes and the demands of audiences. Some of the film’s predictions of horror have come true, such as the increased popularity of surrealistic horror. For instance, the 2020 film Friend Of The World and 2022’s Skinamarink are among the countless examples of horror directors pushing the genre into new, experimental directions in the 21st century. 

As horror films evolve, new voices emerge to celebrate, deconstruct, and reinterpret the genre’s long history. Over the last two decades, multiple directors have tried to capture the essence of what makes this genre so powerful. Some have focused on the work of other influential directors, such as 2008’s Dead On: The Life And Cinema Of George A. Romero. Other documentaries have taken up the torch from Fear In The Dark, embarking on a more generalized quest to unearth the secrets behind moviegoers’ enduring fascination with a good scare. 

The horror documentaries of today tackle niche topics within the horror world or pay homage to periods of scary movie history. For example, the 2019 film In Search Of Darkness honors the horror movies of the 1980s, taking viewers on a journey through one of the genre’s most over-the-top decades. However, modern documentary filmmakers are also exploring uncharted territories that were beyond the reach of Fear In The Dark in 1991. The Nightmare is a 2015 documentary that uncovers a genuine phenomenon known as sleep paralysis and combines science and terror. 

Although Fear In The Dark is not a horror film, it’s a time capsule detailing the societal dialogue surrounding this underrated genre at the time. Unfortunately, some of its participants have passed, including Wes Craven. Others are nearing the end of their careers or have already retired, giving audiences a limited opportunity to appreciate new work from these talented creators. Preserving the legacy of their theories and opinions about horror cinema provides Fear In The Dark value for modern-day audiences. In addition, it is a testament to the power of documentaries to tell the story behind the story. 

Wes Craven’s ‘Cursed’ Deserves Better

Wes Craven’s werewolf picture, Cursed (2005), has a fitting title. We’re talking about the film that drove monster makeup legend Rick Baker out of the business. Frequent reshoots and studio interference put a silver bullet in the heart of this cinematic beast. What could’ve been a howling success became a box office whimper. Yet Craven’s foray into lycanthropy has sharper teeth than its undeserved 16% on Rotten Tomatoes would suggest. Underneath all of its flaws is a poignant story about the monstrous transformation which occurs when we allow our insecurities to rule us.

Become a Free Member on Patreon to Receive Our Weekly Newsletter

Once again teaming Craven with Scream scribe Kevin Williamson, Cursed snatches the werewolf out of the atmospheric countryside and tosses it into the predatory jungle that is Hollywood. There, we meet producer Ellie (Christina Ricci) and her dorky younger brother, Jimmy (Jesse Eisenberg), both outsiders dealing with self-doubt who struggle to fit in with the pack. After they’re bitten by a werewolf, that all begins to change — but at a terrible cost. 

Each character in Cursed is infected by some form of insecurity — something I dealt with for a long time thanks to bullying — and in this lycanthropic tale, that’s a ringing dinner bell for the werewolf. 

Ellie and Jimmy are fearful fawns, left alone with predators all around them after the tragic death of their parents. Ellie’s love for boyfriend Jake (Joshua Jackson) is one of caution, especially with women falling over each other for him. Unable to see herself as the catch she is, she worries she’s more of a lamb to his wolf and that the issues of their relationship are her doing, not his. Meanwhile, Jimmy has a sweet moment with his crush shattered by school bully Bo (Milo Ventimiglia), too afraid to bite back against his abuser.  

The unfortunate relatability of these characters is what makes the heart of Cursed beat stronger than its critics would have you believe. Whether you were hounded by bullies like I was or not, we’ve all experienced that snarling voice that tells us we’re not worthy. “I’m terrified because of all the good things that keep going away,” Ellie admits to Jake. Her words scratch at the wound of self-loathing because that’s exactly how I’ve felt in the past. There was a time when my insecurities gnawed on my confidence to such a degree that I also believed I was some kind of unloveable creature. 

Cursed unleashes that metaphorical monster in its most literal form. 

I get why Jimmy and Ellie are so easily seduced by the wolf that’s clawed its way inside. Lycanthropy is often portrayed as a terrifying change in werewolf lore, but Cursed is honest about how appealing it must be at first. Imagine having all of those negative thoughts about yourself evaporate overnight the way they do with our protagonists. Ellie confidently carries an aura of lust that glows like the moon and captures the desire of everyone she works with. Jimmy gets his Teen Wolf on and mauls the entire wrestling team with a strength he’s never dreamed of. They are given everything they think they need by the wolf. 

There’s a certain temptation in becoming the monster in the mirror staring back at us when that’s all we can see. Between Ellie verbally ripping psycho publicist Joanie (Judy Greer) to shreds or Jimmy dominating his bullies, they get a brief taste of what it’s like to make others afraid. And you know what? They like it. The animal-themed costume party which Ellie attends hits the audience like a newspaper on the snout, but a good theme is a good theme and this one is perfect for Hollywood, a place governed by a primal law of “eat or be eaten.” It’s in our blood to wonder what it’s like at the top of the food chain. But Cursed allows us to chew on what that actually entails.  

After Ellie finds herself lusting over a co-worker’s bloody nose, the horror of what she and Jimmy are becoming sets in. No matter how far down we look on ourselves, hurting someone else to feel better is always the wrong answer. Always. And it’s impossible to put a value on the importance of witnessing Ellie and Jimmy defeat that monster grumbling inside.  

The werewolf in Cursed savages characters with a moral test in choosing themselves or animalistic contempt for others, oddly best exposed by Jimmy and Bo’s relationship. We eventually learn Bo is a gay man pretending to be straight. He’s been feeding the monster of his insecurity by torturing Jimmy. I don’t typically give a pass for bullies, but there’s something beautifully human about Bo embracing his true identity once Jimmy shows him it’s okay. Williamson conveys an all too real truth that allowing ourselves to be controlled by our insecurities is the real curse. To break it, we have to accept who we are.  

The woeful irony of the werewolf doing all the killing, Joanie, is that she considers Ellie “vulnerable” without realizing she was also taken advantage of. After contracting one hairy STD from Jake without so much as a second date, she becomes obsessed with the “why” instead of holding him accountable for dropping her like a piece of meat. The werewolf feeds off her self-doubt with such ravenous hunger that it devours her. All it takes for Ellie to lure Joanie out into a barrage of bullets is to claim she has a “bony ass…fat thighs…and bad skin.” They say only sticks and stones break bones, but words cut deeper when we let ourselves believe them. Vicious as she is, Joanie isn’t nor should she be looked at as the monster here. She’s just another soul susceptible to the false promise of the beast. 

The power of the werewolf in Cursed is a lie. It manipulates the characters into thinking they will no longer be eaten by self-doubt, but what it doesn’t reveal is that it will consume every last piece of what makes them human. Joanie is just Exhibit A. She and our heroes are demeaned by Jake/The Wolf as a way of forcing them to give up and give in. “I gave you a reason to live…you’re a disaster,” he says to Ellie. 

So many of my insecurities growing up came from what bullies forced me to believe. Jake/The Wolf is a representation of that manipulative voice in our heads trying to tear us down until we believe everything it says. No wonder that the only way to kill a werewolf in this case is to separate the brain from the heart. Ellie and Jimmy gloriously decapitating Jake’s head is a symbolic victory in shutting out that voice so they can finally look at themselves with the confidence that they were capable of all along. Ellie isn’t afraid anymore. Jimmy gets the girl and a new best friend. A rare happy ending in the werewolf filmography. 

There’s a full moon’s worth of good werewolf films out there, but few have as warm of a touch as Cursed. It isn’t just a wacky werewolf movie sporting a fur coat of bad CG and a werewolf giving the finger. For me, it’s a howling reminder that we all have the power to transform and overcome our insecurities, no werewolf needed.