Clive Tonge is from Northern England and has devoted his life to working in the film industry. While he has directed a couple of shorts, including the horror film “Sunday Best” (2011), Mara is his first feature film. Written by Jonathan Frank, Mara follows a criminal psychologist, Dr. Kate Fuller (Olga Kurylenko), as she arrives at a troubling murder site. A man is dead and it seems clear to everyone that his wife (Helena) did it. But she insists that her husband had been experiencing increasingly troubled sleep and that the night he died a “demon” entered their bedroom, sat on her husband’s chest, and choked him to death. As Kate investigates, she is led to a string of apparent strangers who have all shared the same terrifying night paralysis. More and more of them start dying inexplicably in their sleep, and soon Kate is investigating a phenomenon in which she too has become a victim.
When released in 2007 Teeth seemed to be a very misunderstood film, most particularly by its distributors who marketed it as a sexed-up up body-horror/monster movie. This was summed up by the UK DVD which features on its reverse a coquettish picture of lead character Dawn (Jess Weixler) with various blood splatters around the text. It contrasts heavily with director Mitchell Lichtenstein’s preferred marketing image in which Dawn, dressed in a “Sex Changes Everything” T-shirt stares confused at the viewer. Released on DVD through the Dimension Extreme label (familiar to fans of Torture Porn), Teeth’s very nature as a horror-comedy, and specifically a satire on American sexual values, was obscured.
There remains debate as to whether deafness and hearing-impairments should be classified as disabilities. Many, including those within the deaf community and their allies, affirm that deafness is a culture rather than a disability. Still, others affirm that having a hearing impairment imposes disadvantages on an individual. We can think of many ways that being deaf brings challenges in common daily life activities- the ringing of a doorbell, the answering the telephone, the knock of a door. In horror media, deafness may mean missing the screams of loved ones, or not perceiving an audible threat, until the threat is close enough to sense by other means.
Horror characters rely on specific strengths to get through the terror they are experiencing and/ or to survive. In some examples of television and film, deaf characters utilize their hearing impairments as a gift to fend off the horrors while the hearing characters around them remain vulnerable. In these instances, we see a paradigm shift from one in which deaf persons suffer incapacities to one in which their deafness relates to a tenacity in the face of terror, even as they maintain their human vulnerability.
Down a Dark Hall is directed by Spanish filmmaker Rodrigo Cortés who directed the critically-acclaimed Buried (2010). The screenplay is written by Michael Goldbach and Chris Sparling and based on the 1974 novel by the young adult author Lois Duncan (who also wrote, among others, I Know What You Did Last Summer and Killing Mr. Griffin).
In a plot reminiscent of The Craft (1996) or American Horror Story’s third season, “Coven” (2013-14), Down a Dark Hall centers on five girls with troubled pasts who arrive at Blackwood Boarding School, sent their by their parents as a kind of last resort. They are the only five students in a vast isolated mansion presided over by the mysterious Madame Duret (Uma Thurman), who soon makes it clear that the girls have special abilities that she intends to foster. And, indeed, the girls soon display talents they didn’t know they had. Protagonist Kit (AnnaSophia Robb) blossoms into a master piano player; Ashley (Taylor Russell) starts writing brilliant poetry; Sierra (Rosie Day) paints captivating landscapes; and Izzy (Isabelle Fuhrman) transforms into a math genius. Their new abilities come with a price, however, as the girls get sicker and strange figures start haunting the long dark halls of Blackwood.
How two theatre makers brought the worlds of HP Lovecraft to life in their play Providence: The Shadow over Lovecraft, now playing at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe until August 25, 2018.
“You know…” Dominic Allen looks up from his phone at me and narrows his eyes, “You kind of look like him.”
We’re sitting in the outdoor bar of one of the larger venues during last year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe. It’s August in Scotland and the weather is doing its best to imitate a warm sunny day. We’re discussing the works and mythos of one of our favourite horror authors but it wasn’t until this moment that we sought to learn a bit about his actual life by reading up about him on Wikipedia. I gingerly take the phone from his hands and stare at a thin face, not unattractive but with a rather large forehead, he’s dressed smartly in a suit and tie and I can’t help but find some resemblance between our large, somewhat intense, eyes.
“His chin is bigger than mine.” I say as I hand the phone back.
“Yeah but you’re both tall, blonde… I’m just saying.” Dominic, my friend of over 10 years, is getting that creative glint in his eye that occurs when he’s about to suggest something huge:
“We should make a show.”
A chance to work with one of the most talented and hilarious people I know, playing the man who practically INVENTED the modern horror genre… How could I say no?