I have shown quite a bit of resentment towards vampire flicks since Twilight kicked off the latest blood-drinking trend but I can still appreciate a healthy dose of fanged antiheroes when it comes my way. Proof no.1: I am eagerly anticipating Daybreakers. Proof no.2: well, look at the posters below - while not all of them are good movies, they at least show something radically different from the same-old-same-old that's being packaged and repackaged nowadays. My favorite of the pack would have to be Near Dark, a severely under-appreciated movie if there ever was one. Oh, and of course, the artwork above is another brilliant piece of guerrilla marketing from True Blood's team.
Let's get one thing straight from the very beginning: Lars von Trier's Antichrist is a seriously faulty movie, both in its execution as a story and the muddled message it is attempting to convey. I fully understand the heavy criticism the film has received for its misogyny but knowing von Trier I wouldn't take any of it without a heavy dose of salt. The man has a long history of prankster-like behavior, especially when it comes to his audience, so to a large extent - and despite the clear symbolism involved - the film's goriest scenes (both involving genital parts) are really just bad jokes. That said, Antichrist also presents a great field for discussion and mental gymnastics on such topics as "nature as Satan's church" and the host of rich symbols the film presents but fails to exploit to the fullest (how often do you really think about a horror film the day after?). Well, today I found an interesting blog post meditating on the film's symbols against ideas by Feuerbach and Heidegger and while I don't fully agree with what it has to say, it still has my highest recommendations. Note, though, you need to have watched the film before reading the text.
By this point in the post-Twilight era, you're surely getting weary of everything vampire-related, and what the hell, I can't blame you. That said, Daybreakers seems to be a different kind of a vampire movie, one that sheds all the regular tropes in favor of a science fiction plot that clearly relates to some of the political and sociological issues that we're facing today. Starring Ethan Hawke, Sam Neil and Willem Defoe this flick is the first interesting piece of 2010, and if you don't believe me, check out the trailer below.
After a sudden break in posting due to billion circumstances, we're back on the bloody trail with a flurry of postings coming your way in the next couple of weeks. To begin with, we're documenting the first Danse Macabre DJ set at the underground bar La Kana in Skopje via the ever-present Plagij.at team. The House of 237.4 Corpses took place on Saturday, January 9th and included a fine mix of psychobilly, noise rock and darker indie pop affairs while we screened The Raven (1963) and Creepshow (1982) in the background. Fun, huh? Well, expect many more news about similar events in the weeks and months to come :)
While you wouldn't necessarily link David Bowie with horror, he's not stranger to the macabre. Other than his unsettling-but-not-that-scary appearances in The Men Who Fell to Earth and Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, he also took part in the 1983 art-house vampire flick called The Hunger, along Catherine Deneuve and Susan Sarandon. Kids raised in the late 1980s will also recognize Bowie as the supervillain Jarret, the Goblin King, from the Jim Henson vehicle Labyrinth, which still lingers on in my memory as one the scariest things I'd seen by the age of 10. Anyhoo, David Bowie is turning 62 today, and even though he is first and foremost one of the most important musicians of the 20th century, Danse Macabre is here to recognize the man's achievements in the genre film as well. So, happy birthday, Mr. Bowie, may all your wishes come true!
We're going back to David Lynch's Twin Peaks, boys and girls, so let's rock!
Originally aired on October 23, 2009, ep. 20 is in many ways the most interesting show we've had so far, which is, of course, due to the richness of our subject matter. Just how do you go from the shot of a dead girl with bluish lips wrapped in plastic to an FBI agent stuck in a netherworld marked by heavy red curtains and highly bizarre forms of communication - while discussing donuts, coffee and Tibetan philosophy - is beyond me. The Twin Peaks project is by no means perfect but at its best it is so much more than entertainment or art: when it gets going, Twin Peaks becomes a living entity of its own.
The question of who killed Laura Palmer is, of course, secondary to all the characters that inhabit Twin Peaks with their outworldly quirkiness and surrealism. By the beginning of the second season of the show it becomes clear that the whole affair is more than a simple murder case, and whatever a Gordon Cole's "blue rose" case is supposed to be, it is this aspect of the mystery that we are drawn to. After all, how many shows can introduce a ghostly giant that delivers cryptic clues - while the main character of the show is bleeding profusely - and maintain their air of coolness?
Another important trait of Twin Peaks is that it is heavily layered. In addition to playing with the genre of a mystery show as well as most of the existing TV tropes at its time, not excluding a meta soap opera show, the series incorporates a long list of symbols from different literary, philosophical or religious backgrounds, and fits them in one brilliant puzzle. My favorite is the white horse that appears in the Palmers' living room not long before another murder takes place.
It is a common complaint that Twin Peaks doesn't have a real ending. In the last minute of the show we see the hero, FBI agent Dale Cooper, become possessed by the villanous spirit known as BOB, which means that a lot of evil is about to be unleashed upon the town of Twin Peaks (and beyond). The film never resolves this open ending of the show either, which is why it was hated so much upon its release in 1992, and was even booed at Cannes! The interesting thing is that the film does provide an ending or at least an explanation of the show and the fates of the key characters; it is just that it is not straightforward enough to shoot down all guessing but at the end of the day, do you think that David Lynch would want it any other way?
These and other discussions take a large chunk of our episode but it doesn't mean we've forgotten about the music. Angelo Badalamenti hijacks this episode either through his original score for the series and the film or through the music for Julee Cruise's haunting songs. We also have to mention Bohren & Der Club of Gore which have been carrying the Badalamenti legacy for the last 15 years, never missing a single tone.
As gorgeous as the poster above is - the Japanese never fail to impress - this post is not about Christopher Lee's exploits as Count Dracula. No, strange though it may be, this post is really about Christopher Lee as a rock-to-the-bone metalhead! After appearing on songs for bands such as Rhapsody of Fire, Denmark's The Tolkien Ensemble, and Inner Terrestrials, the 87-year old legend will be releasing his own album of symphonic metal on March the 15th. We're talking about a concept album here - the record will be called Charlemagne and it will tell the story of the first Holy Roman Emperor. For more info, as well as samples, check out NME's coverage of the story. What else can I add but wish we're all this agile as we approach 90.
The TV mini-series based on Stephen King's The Stand was epic upon release and stands the test of time much better than expected. Full of well-known actors, the series tells the story of the battle between good and evil at the end of the world as we know it, and is pretty much King's most religious offering in a career full of riffs on Christian beliefs and motifs. Of course, the main draw of the series is the character of Randall Flagg a.k.a Walter o'Dim in the Dark Tower universe (here portrayed by Jamey Sheridan) who stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Pennywise as King's best villain.
We have a Stephen King week going on here, which, if you ask me, is by far the best way to start the new year. To get things rolling, we have a classic scene for you as a taste of things to come. Tim Curry's performance as Pennywise, the Dancing Clown, is nothing short of phenomenal throughout It's entire duration, and as many will testify, the low budget TV flick works only because of him. The library scene, for example, is horrific and funny at the same time even though nothing really happens outside of Pennywise cracking some lame-ass jokes.
2009 is dead as dead can be, which can mean only thing: 2010 better be a good year or we'll sure as hell send it back to wherever it came from! :) Joking aside, 2009 was a good year for Danse Macabre and horror in general and if 2010 has anything more to offer, we're in the driving seat, man, and there's no one stopping us but ourselves. This year over the course of 8 months we aired some 26 episodes of our blood-splashing show covering basic stuff such as witches and ghosts next to more complex issues such as the philosophy behind torture porn and Twin Peaks; but note: THAT'S ONLY THE BEGINNING!
2010 will see us honoring literary luminaries of the highest order (King and Barker at one end, Ballard and Palahniuk at the other) while also delving deeper in the realms of sheer weirdness and exploitation horror (think of The Thing with Two Heads), branching out to films from countries such as Norway and Russia, and covering as many comic books as we can get our hands on (EC Comics, Hellboy, The Walking Dead)! Well, these are just some of the topics that are coming your way in 2010. We could tell you everything we are planning but that would be spoiling it, don't you think? Besides, we have to run: the monster party is about to start!
Oh, and by the way: Bloody New Year is a real film and it's ripe with camp value so do give it a try whenever you have nothing better to do!
As you see 2009 slowly dying out, you know it's time for some yearly best of lists and since Danse Macabre is really a radio show that plays quite a bit of music, it's only natural that we'd make our own selection of Top 10 LPs or some version thereof. Well, we made Top 11 - hope you don't mind - and as you'll notice not all of it is outright horror - most of it is merely fittingly bizarre - but then again, life shouldn't be focused solely on the ugly things. As far as the number one goes, though, please pay attention to the lyrics: they make all the difference between great music and a deeply moving emotional experience.
11. The Flaming Lips - Embryonic
10. The Mount Fuji Doomjazz Corporation - Succubus
9. Mastodon – Crack the Skye
8. Sunn O))) – Monoliths & Dimensions
7. Fever Ray – Fever Ray
6. Mount Eerie – Winds Poem
5. Baroness – Blue Record
4. Zombi – Spirit Animal
3. Oneida – Rated O
2. The Black Heart Procession - Six
1. Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavillion
If it looks like I've been delaying the upload of this episode for ages, it's because I have. I was nervous during the entire episode for fear of saying something wrong in the presence of my two prominent guests, Gjorgji Janevski and Baze Petrushev, and it shows. After all, it is difficult to say something new about Alfred Hitchcock, the man has been analyzed to death and back - Slavoj Zizek's ideas are particularly interesting here - but that doesn't mean one shouldn't try. In the end, my fears may have been for nothing: between the three of us in the studio we dug up enough interesting facts, trivia and ideas to fully justify the episode. We even added some brilliant Hitchcock monologues for good measure!
The first film we talked about is Psycho (1960), by far the most important - if not the best - of Hitchock's films. Piling up information on top of Bernard Hermann's stabbing score, we went through camera angles, alternate takes, questions of identities, Marion Crane's untimely death at the middle of the film, and of course, the Gus Van Sant remake from 1998, which is analyzed in depth in this essay here.
Then, there's The Birds (1963), Hitchock's only pure horror film for which Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Zizek has quite a lot to say in the following clip.
Musically speaking, the episode features a heavy dose of Bernard Hermann's iconic soundtrack scores, a string of tracks by his follower, the shifty Barry Adamson, as well as a couple of rarities in Landscape's "Norman Bates" and the theme song to the bizarre Psychos in Love.
Oh, and by the way, I still don't get it entirely: despite the fact he's made only two films that could be labeled as horror - the splatter-sub-genre-defining Psycho and the somewhat subversive The Birds - just why do people still insist on calling him "director of the macabre"? Are two films enough to seal one's status?
Well, by now the internet is flooded with these ads, and there's a good reason for it. The damn thing is funny, that's all. Well, I wish you all a Black Christmas!
Danse Macabre is a kick ass radio show dedicated to the meisters of the horror genre. The shows blasts the airwaves with a special theme every Friday from 00:00 - 02:00 CET. On April 10, 2009, episode 1: "Invitation to Dance" ran all the way to Valhalla.
