Unlike its distant cousin, the vampire, the zombie is too ugly, too dumb, and too dead to possess a dangerous, yet alluring, sexuality that, in its presence, makes us humans shiver in ecstasy.  So horror fans, what’s your take on zombies in film?  Are their days numbered?

Yours in gore,

John Albo

Amid the gnashing and the chewing and a burp or two, my friend proclaimed to me that when he dies, he doesn’t want his corpse to be embalmed, nor does he want to be buried or cremated.  Instead, he’d like his corpse stashed deep in some isolated forest, his flesh exposed to insects and feral animals.  My response was: “Why not donate your vital organs to those in need.”  “Hell, no,” he said, “Why would I award my good stuff to some dying son-of-a-bitch when I have the opportunity, in death, to become part of the cosmic food chain.  I want God’s creatures to devour every morsel of my body: guts and all…then I want them to shit me out onto the soil.  Just think, I’d be a pile of steaming crap with a purpose: fertilizer to nurture newly evolved life forms in the earth.”

My friend, grinning, fixed his eyes on me, a fragile prey to pounce on, and said: “When you kick, what do you want done with your corpse?”  My reply was slow in coming, “I…I never gave it much thought.”  And you, horror fans, what is your response to my friend’s question?  What do you want done with your corpse?  Burial?  Cremation?  Other types of disposal?

Yours in gore,

John Albo

It makes sense when you think about it.  After all, the Frankenstein monster is a motley-looking creature, made-up of body parts stolen from corpses dug up in graveyards.  His stance lopsided, his movements jerky, this poor monster is not remotely sexy.  And as for the wolf man: what can you say about a monster that grunts, groans, and drools?  He doesn’t bite his victims, nurturing them into death — he tears them apart with his canines.

On the other hand, today’s vampire is something special: sleek, sinewy, and smooth when he hits on his prey.  Those lovely fangs of his, or hers, know how to caress a yielding, responsive neck, its veins throbbing, its flesh eager to be penetrated and ravished.  Oh what a sexual thrill for both monster and prey!  You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to understand why horror-movie fans love vampires.  Take the film, “Twilight,” its vampires are young, pretty, and oh so sexy.  No wonder vampires provide for great date flicks.

Currently, my favorite vampire characters are found on HBO’s “True Blood,” the creation of the brilliant Oscar-winning writer Alan Ball, who also created the memorable “Six Feet Under.”  Do yourself a favor, and check out “True Blood.”  It’s great.  So, horror fans, give me your take on the sexy vampire.  Who are your favorites?

Yours in gore,

John Albo

Friedkin’s direction is brilliant, and he draws excellent performances from Ellen Burstyn and the young Linda Blair, who plays Burstyn’s demon-possessed daughter.  The extraordinary filmmaker that he is, Friedkin infuses “The Exorcist” with a gravitas that elevates the film from the mundane and the formulaic, making it not only a classic but a landmark motion picture that changes our perception of what a great film, and, more specifically, a great horror film, should be.

What horror films do you consider landmarks of the genre?  And why?  I’d love your feedback, horror-movie fans.

Yours in gore,

John Albo

Of course, there are those critics who don’t buy into Jung’s analysis at all.  They contend that sex and violence and horror have no place on the big screen, or, for that matter, in any work of art.  But then we only have to flash back to Hitler’s Germany: under his reign, suppression ruled.  The Nazis banned what they considered degenerate art (from the German: entartete kunst).  In the eyes of the fascists, degenerate art represented all that was ugly, distorted, and depraved in modern art (this view also extended to films, theater, and books).  The Nazis favored Heroic Art, which was based on racial purity, an art so pure in its white-washing of the human condition that man’s dark-side was completely ignored (and eradicated) in all manner of artistic expression.

Carl Jung warned that when the dark-side is suppressed in art, it will eventually manifest itself in life – in real life, and often in horrendous and destructive ways, as exemplified by the rise of Nazism in Germany.  However, by exploring, through artistic expression, the Shadow, that hidden part of our psyche, we bring to light the dark and repressed aspects of our being and we defuse the potential to be destructive to others and to ourselves.  That’s why I firmly believe that horror films serve an essential and useful purpose in our culture: they allow us to confront our Shadow within the safety net of art, thus, not only are we entertained, but we are also gaining self-awareness.

I’d love for all you horror fans out there to share your thoughts about what I’ve written: are those critics who decry the use of sex and violence in films, especially in the horror genre, justified in wanting to ban such films, to protect society?  In short, do you think we need Big Daddy to dictate to us what we should and shouldn’t see in the greatest art form ever created: the motion picture?

Why are horror films so appealing to us fanatics of the genre? The answer is simple: horror films allow us mortals to confront death, vicariously, in all its horrible manifestations. The key w

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ord here is vicariously. As an adverb, vicariously blunts the potential danger inherent in the verb, to confront, implying that we, as voyeurs, can safely get our rocks off watching people on the small or big screen getting murdered, mutilated, and, generally, brutalized.

Oh what morbid fun it is to sit in the holy of holies, a darkened movie theater, our eyes fixed on the screen as we experience a kind of schizophrenia observing the predator stalk, menace, and kill his prey, our hero/victim – prompting us to identify, at the same time, with both of these entities: the good guy and the bad guy. And how exhilarated we feel channeling the victim’s fear and the predator’s triumph as he zeroes in on the kill. A heady mix of emotions charge through us, the viewers, who have been made vulnerable by the horrific machinations on the screen.

Regarding the horror film, you may ask: how are the victim and the predator defined? The answer is quite simple: the victim can be anyone – man, woman, or child. Even a helpless animal can qualify as a victim. The predator, on the other hand, is more diverse, more complex. He can be human, or nonhuman, manifesting many shapes and forms – often falling into such categories as serial killers, monsters, supernatural beings.

A horror film is only as good as its predator. The more frightening the predator, the more powerful is the catharsis we, the viewers, undergo at the film’s end.

At The Blood Factory, the predators are our heroes, and we love them because of their vile natures and evil ways. But our love doesn’t end there. We extend it to you, our fans: we vow to feed your ravenous addiction to horror movies with heaping plates of blood and guts, drizzled with adrenalin-pumped sweat from slaughtered human prey. And for dessert, we may even carve up a corpse or two. So, friends, welcome to The Blood Factory! Welcome to the killings!

Sincerely,
John Albo, your devoted teller of tales