The devil himself.
This isn’t some second-rate demon moonlighting as a little girl. It’s not a clumsy wisecracking slasher or a killer doll. This is Satan, people. Lucifer. Mephistopheles, if you will.
Take every bad thing that’s ever happened since the dawn of time—every injustice, every murder, every war, every tragedy, and every broken heart. Multiply the sum total of all that pain to the 48 billionth power, and you have roughly the amount of evil Satan sprinkles over his morning cereal.
The point is: Satan is very, very evil.
And not just evil—all-powerful. Pound for pound, el Diablo is every bit as omnipotent as God (in the Terrorverse, anyway). You? The puny horror movie character? Not so much. There’s no clever trap you can set. No magic words that will make him disappear. When Satan says “die,” you say “how violently?” It’s that easy. Unless you have the balls to stand up to him.
Picture this: You’re battling the devil. Maybe he’s in human form, or maybe (budget permitting) he’s chosen a more traditional representation—a red, fire-breathing goat-demon combo of some kind, each tooth a sharpened gargoyle. His tail whips back and forth, smashing nearby statues to pieces. His horns belch black smoke as he saunters toward you. You flatten your back against the cold stone of the exhibit hall, cornered, trying not to stare into those eyes—those dead, sulfur-yellow eyes. This is it. This is how I die. No awkward product placement or jarringly good dialogue can save you now.
He leans in and opens his jaws—the heat coming off his skin blisters your forehead. His breath takes years off your life (irrelevant, since you’re about to die anyway).
And then you remember. There is one thing that can drive the devil away.
SHOW HIM YOUR PENIS. When the devil has you at claw’s length, you need something shocking. Something dramatic. Something that will make the entire Terrorverse collapse in on itself. And there’s only one object with that much power:
A penis.
I offer this simple equation: Full-frontal male nudity (P) does not exist in the Terrorverse (T). Therefore, if P is present, T cannot be present. And if T is present, P cannot be present.
In other words, if a man lets it all hang out for the world (i.e., the audience) to see, whatever movie he’s in cannot, according to the laws of movie physics, be in the horror genre.
If you have a penis? Marvelous. Drop your shorts and make Papa proud.
If you don’t? Find someone who does, and fast.
It may seem like a juvenile response to a desperate situation. A sad attempt to mask fear with immature humor. Maybe it is. But would you rather die with dignity or live with nudity?
Are you not—despite everything you’ve been through—still alive after all these pages? Put your faith in this last step, too. If you’re ever face-to-face with Satan, show him the goods.
EPILOGUE
TANGINA
This house … is clean.
—POLTERGEIST (1982)
When is it safe? When we see credits rolling in front of our eyes? Hear applause? When the killer suddenly takes off the mask, shakes our hand, and says, “Nice working with you”? No, it’s never safe.
Once you’re in the Terrorverse, you’re in for good—even after the movie that brought you there has wrapped. You succeeded in vanquishing the enemy? Great. Chances are you made it to the final credits, and you’ll lead a long, peaceful life (especially if your movie bombs at the box office). But there will always be the possibility, however slight, that you’ll be called back for sequels.
Screenwriters will keep dreaming up new villains and killing methods. Directors will get sleeker and bloodier. And the enemy will keep its fangs and machetes razor sharp.
You’d better keep your skills the same way.
APPENDIX: ADDITIONAL STUDY MATERIALS
If you want to become a writer, you start by reading the classics. If you want to survive a horror movie, you learn from the characters who’ve survived the classics (or at least made it to the third act). Your DVD player is a weapon. Load it with the best ammo available.
ALIEN (1979)
Perfection.
ALTERED STATES (1980)
Paddy Chayefsky. Horror movie. Rent it.
AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON (1981)
Funny. Scary. Sexy. Hairy.
THE AMITYVILLE HORROR (1979)
Bad things happen in house. Family buys house. Bad things happen to family.
THE BIRDS (1963)
How good is Tippi Hedren in this movie? Rhetorical question.
BLACK CHRISTMAS (1974)
The best of the “sorority slashers.” Olivia Hussey slumming it between Franco Zeffirelli epics, and Margo Kidder before Superman sucked all the sex out of her.
THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT (1999)
The idea everybody wishes they’d thought of first.
BRIDE OF CHUCKY (1998)
A deliciously campy series at its deliciously campy best.
THE BURNING (1981)
A superior summer camp slasher. Two of its writers, Brad Grey and Harvey Weinstein, went on to become industry moguls.
CARRIE (1976)
If you haven’t seen this masterpiece yet, pelt yourself with tampons and go to your prayer closet.
CHILDREN OF THE CORN (1984)
Original and creepy, despite some laughably bad special effects (especially toward the end). Spookiest opening music ever.
CHRISTINE (1983)
The reigning champ of the ultrarare “evil car” genre.
CREEPSHOW (1982)
Stephen King playing a hillbilly. Ed Harris disco dancing. E. G. Marshall barfing cockroaches. What more do you want?
DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978)
What has a more painful bite, the zombies or the social commentary? George A. Romero skewers American consumerism (and several characters) in this scary, funny, gory, satirical, sort-of sequel to Night of the Living Dead.
DEAD ALIVE (ORIGINALLY RELEASED AS BRAINDEAD (1992)
The last (and best) of Peter Jackson’s early, irreverent, hilarious, low-budget gore-fests. Maybe the bloodiest movie of all time.
THE EVIL DEAD (1981)
“Hi, my name’s Sam Raimi. This is my friend Bruce Campbell. Here’s a classic horror movie. Enjoy.”
THE EXORCIST (1973)
The power of Christ compels you to watch this movie at least once a year.
FINAL DESTINATION (2000)
Smarter than the average slasher. Actually, that’s not saying much. Let’s go with, “original, slick, and lots of fun.”
THE FLY (1986)
David Cronenberg’s dark portrait of a man falling apart (in every sense); loosely based on the 1958 original. The role Jeff Goldblum was born to play, if you believe in that sort of thing.
THE FOG (1980)
A good old-fashioned atmospheric ghost story—slowly, creepily building to an unforgettable climax.
FRIDAY THE 13TH (1980)
The movie that invented half the rules this book teaches.
HALLOWEEN (1978)
The movie that invented the other half—and catapulted John Carpenter and Jamie Lee Curtis to the big time.
THE HILLS HAVE EYES (1977)
The old “family’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, family gets brutally attacked by inbred cannibals, family decides to exact revenge” bit.
THE HITCHER (1986)
How many times do I have to tell you: Never pick up Rutger Hauer!
HOSTEL (2005)
The first 40 minutes are a porno. The next 50 are a series of snuff films. Is this really a horror movie? I’m not sure. All I know is, I can’t stop watching.
HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES (2003)
Start with one pound of The Hills Have Eyes, add a cup of Rob Zombie’s insanity-laced blood, and cook over the flames of hell for 89 minutes.
THE HOWLING (1981)
Apparently, everybody had full moon fever in 1981.
INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (1978)
A bug-eyed Donald Sutherland, a pre-Fly Jeff Goldblum, and Mr. Spock (sans ears). Directed by Philip Kaufman before his Oscarnominated career took off.
JAWS (1975)
Young, hungry Spielberg. Young, hungry shark. Perfect script. Perfect cast. You’re gonna need a bigger boat.
LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972)
Psychos rape and murder girls. Psychos move in with one of the girls’ parents. Parents bite off psycho’s penis.
THE LOST BOYS (1987)
A gang of hard-partying California vampires rides dirt bikes. And the Coreys exude their special brand of BFF chemistry.
MISERY (1990)
Rob Reiner bats .1000 when it comes to Stephen King adaptations. James Caan and Kathy Bates are pretty decent, too.
NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968)
The one and only.
A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET (1984)
Wes Craven discovers a new species of slasher, while Johnny Depp gives “wet the bed” a whole new meaning.
THE OMEN (1976)
Think of this film as the final installment in a “Satanic Trilogy” beginning with Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist. All three feature superior scripts, actors, and directors, and all three have that tasty mid-’60s to late-’70s grittiness.
THE OTHERS (2001)
A stylish, subdued take on the classic haunted house movie. Nicole Kidman sticks the landing.
PET SEMATARY (1989)
The movie that crosses a sacred line, turns around, pisses on that line, and goes on its merry way.
PHANTASM (1979)
Unlike other super-low-budget late-’70s horror directors, Don Coscarelli isn’t content with knife-wielding maniacs and summer camps. He’s more interested in interdimensional grave robbers and chrome spheres of death.
POLTERGEIST (1982)
Incredibly dated PG fun. Jerry Goldsmith’s score is unreal.
PSYCHO (1960)
The first (and still the best) slasher movie.
RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD (1985)
A hilarious send-up of the Romero zombie universe—and surprisingly ahead of its time (running zombies, talking zombies—even contraption-building zombies). Fast, disgusting, and overflowing with nudity. Written and directed by Dan O’Bannon, cowriter of Alien.
THE RING (2002)
By far the best of the Japanese remakes. The most terrifying opening sequence since Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure.
ROSEMARY’S BABY (1968)
A pre-exile Roman Polanski makes one of the scariest movies of all time, and he does it without an ounce of gore. Any film that can make Scrabble scary is an automatic masterpiece.
SAW (2004)
A new take on the “gamesman slasher,” with some clever twists up its sleeve. Actually, just one clever twist.
SCANNERS (1981)
Another David Cronenberg study of humans playing god with science—this time to gain telepathic powers. You’re probably wondering, “Do we get to see a head explode in this movie?” The answer is yes. Yes, we do.
SCREAM (1996)
Finally! Horror movie characters who’ve read this book!
SE7EN (1995)
I went to see this film by myself on a cold, rainy Boston day. I haven’t smiled since.
THE SHINING (1980)
The best movie ever made? Or merely the best horror movie ever made? A question for the ages.
THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991)
Can you name another horror movie that won an Oscar for Best Picture?
SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT (1984)
One of the better Halloween clones, and a Christmas Eve tradition in the Grahame-Smith household.
THE SIXTH SENSE (1999)
“Hi, my name’s M. Night Shyamalan. Trust me … you’ll learn how to pronounce it.”
SLEEPAWAY CAMP (1983)
Most. Insane. Ending. Ever.
SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE (1982)
Take some busty teenaged girls, add an escaped mental patient, and you’ve got the romantic comedy hit of the summer! Just kidding. He kills them all.
THE STEPFATHER (1987)
Terry O’Quinn’s seemingly normal (yet quietly psychotic) parent is right up there with Jack Nicholson’s Jack Torrance in The Shining. A vastly underrated movie.
SUSPIRIA (1977)
Italian master Dario Argento’s flamboyant, inventive, acid-trippingly colorful opus. One of the best-looking horror movies of all time.
THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE (1974)
Anyone who hasn’t seen this film is a terrorist.
THE THING (1982)
John Carpenter and Kurt Russell at their tough-as-nails, hard-drinking, unshaven best. Never mind the comparisons to Alien. Never mind the fact that it bombed. It’s a must-see. Dog lovers be warned.
28 DAYS LATER (2002)
OK, so not all zombies are laughably slow and clumsy. Or (technically speaking) zombies.
FIVE COMPLETELY INESSENTIAL HORROR MOVIES
These five films have but one lesson to teach us: No matter how stupid an idea is, there’s always somebody willing to put up the money.
HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH (1982)
After just two Halloween movies, the producers decided the franchise was due for a reboot. So Michael Myers was benched in favor of Conal Cochran, evil toy maker and owner of the Silver Shamrock Company. Cochran’s killing methods were a tad more complicated than Myers’s: He planned to unleash chaos by selling special Halloween masks. Masks that had been fitted with computer chips containing—I shit you not—tiny pieces of a stolen boulder from Stonehenge. Upon hearing the jingle in Silver Shamrock’s commercial, anyone wearing the masks is killed by … the magic of Stonehenge? Needless to say, Mike was back in action for the fourth film.
JAWS: THE REVENGE (1987)
The film that finally sank the franchise. Chief Brody’s widow (he apparently died of a heart attack triggered by his fear of sharks) decides she’s had enough of Amity Island and heads to the Bahamas to be with her son’s family. But unbeknownst to her, a relative of the sharks killed in previous installment follows her from New England, hell bent on seeking revenge on the surviving members of the Brody clan. Even worse, in addition to holding grudges and being able to track humans thousands of miles, this shark also roars when it leaps out of the water! Scary! Michael Caine takes a paycheck as the loveable charter pilot “Hoagie,” and Mario Van Peebles’s “Hey Mon” portrayal sets the Civil Rights movement back a hundred years.
HOUSE OF THE DEAD (2003)
I know it’s trendy to pick on Uwe Boll—widely accepted as the worst director of our time. But I can’t resist. This movie is just too damned terrible. Like most of Boll’s work, it’s loosely based on a video game. We follow a group of teens to a remote Canadian island for the rave of the century. But when they arrive, they discover that the rave—indeed, the entire island—has been overrun by zombies. Naturally they decide to stay and help themselves to the leftover booze, eventually holing up in an old house to be picked off one by one. A paper-thin premise, sure. But it’s the acting that makes this one so special. Boll elicits performances that make Short Circuit’s Johnny 5 look like Marlon Fucking Brando.
FEARDOTCOM (2002)
Here’s how I imagine this movie being pitched: “OK, so it’s like The Ring, right? Only instead of a videotape that kills you seven days after watching it, we have a Web site that kills you two days after you log on to it! That’s five whole days faster! And here’s the best part: It kills you with whatever your worst fear is! Right? Only we’ll never really fully develop that idea. Instead, we’ll focus on a really boring relationship between this gruff detective and this female health inspector who’ve been assigned to the case. You feeling me? But we’re not done yet! There’s also this ghost, right? This ghost of a little hemophiliac girl who used to play at an abandoned steel mill, OK? And she … wait, I forgot something important. Oh, right—we’ll also make it insufferably boring, and even more confusing than it seems so far.
Still with me?”
LEPRECHAUN: BACK 2 THA HOOD (2003)
The original Leprechaun was a classic, due in part to Jennifer Aniston’s star-making turn as “Tory.” Leprechaun 2 added a delightful wedding component for the ladies. Next came the Vegas-based Leprechaun 3 and the space-based Leprechaun 4—“home” and “run,” respectively. Then it was back to Earth for Leprechaun in the Hood, which answered the age old question, “What would happen if a magical killer leprechaun was unleashed in Compton?” Everything was going swimmingly. That is, until the producers decided to sacrifice quality and go for the quick buck. In Back 2 tha Hood, we have a leprechaun taking massive bong hits, battling drive-by gangsters, and being dragged beneath low-riders. The dignity and subtlety of the first five films? Gone. Pawned off for a series of cheap gags and black stereotypes. Like that infamous pot of gold, the producers have stolen something sacred. And it’s we, the fans, who’ve paid the price.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to all my friends at Quirk, especially: Doogie “The Doogieman” Horner, Melissa “Depths of Hell-O” Monachello, and David “Put the Lotion in the Basket” Borgenicht. A special rattle of the bones goes to Jason “Invaders from the Planet” Rekulak, who’s guided me through three books now, despite the fact that we’ve never met. The way I see it, this means (A) he’s a ghost who needs to nurture one last writer before he can find eternal peace, (B) I’m insane, and he only exists in my imagination, or (C) we do everything by e-mail.
A special thanks to illustrator Nathan “Not Just Crazy Like A” Fox, for his rare combination of incredible talent and incredible evil.
I wouldn’t have survived without my beloved “Monster Squad,” a group of grown men who’ve retained a sad (for them) but helpful (to me) adolescent passion for horror movies. Jason “Dug Grave” Dugre, Steve “To Hell I Go” Sabellico, Brent “The Nice Guy with the Monosyllabic First Name” Simons, and Eric “The Nebbish Jew” Goldman—along with member at large Kevin “Ch-Ch-Ch” Chesley.
Finally, a special thanks to Cody Zwieg—and an extra-special thanks to Wes Craven.