Long is the list of science-fiction mediated texts that deals with social issues, especially race. Vic Morrow’s character was forced to confront his bigotry in Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983) and the shift of social power that was the authority of Black folks as their integrity and compassion was tested for the mercy of whites in one of Ray Bradbury’s short stories in Illustrated Man, first published in 1951. The vast possibilities for what this genre allows is the reason so many of us love it. It keeps stories fresh with its ‘anything goes’ ideology.
Fresh off the not-yet-released zombie comedy Little Monsters (pictured above), director Abe Forsythe and star Lupita Nyong’o (Us) are re-teaming for another genre comedy, Deadline reports today. This one is a sci-fi comedy, pitched under the title Miss Universe.
Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror (2019) is an exceptional Shudder original documentary (based on the 2011 book of the same name by Robin R. Means Coleman) that traces the history of Black representation in horror films — and their love for, and experiences in, the genre.
I have a group of men that I regularly go see horror movies with, they are four tall, white, hairy, middle-aged, gay men that I affectionately refer to as my Horror Bears. It’s cute and succinct. It was during one of our outings that someone in the group started talking about what podcasts people are listening to and Attack of the Queerwolf came up. In the sea of podcasts (myself included since I run Nocturnal Emissions podcast) it’s hard to find content that rises to the top of the “subscribe” pile. But in a single sitting, I knew I was going to be addicted to Attack of the Queerwolf. The podcast has the two crucial elements of what makes this kind of podcast work, one; knowledgeable and well-read hosts and two; an affable and friendly vibe. The podcast feels like the kinds of conversations I have with my friends about horror movies, calling out problematic elements, commenting on who we’d have sex with, and talking about is a movie “camp” or not. The line between camp and horror is razor thin sometimes and the depiction of queer people can also be so derogative in horror that it makes it hard to know if we’re in on the joke or just the joke. That’s why having actual queer people go over the material and examine it is useful in its categorization of whether it’s fun or actually harmful to the community.
EXCLUSIVE: Get your crucifix and be ready to recite a bunch of Hail Marys because New Line’s The Nun is coming back and screenwriter Akela Cooper has been tapped to write the script for the next installment of the series which will take us deeper into the hellishly sacred world of The Conjuring universe.
When Dr. Hess Green (Duane Jones) is attacked and stabbed with an ancient African dagger by his unstable assistant, he discovers he’s developed an unflinching addiction to imbibing blood. But his assistant’s wife, Ganja Meda (Marlene Clark) arrives in town in search of her missing husband, and the two begin an affair that makes for a complicated journey involving lust, companionship, and dependency.
Ganja & Hess (1973) is such a feast for the senses that it almost cannot be reflected upon linearly. It relies on visuals, sound, and mood. It is a coherent sequence of moments. We are intimate with the characters and space that surround them. Ganja & Hess, for this very reason, doesn’t come with a set of instructions. It is up to the viewer to map a path that suits their understanding. What writer/director Bill Gunn (who plays Dr. Hess’ assistant) wanted was a disruption of mainstream fare. Gunn didn’t seem too interested in what Hollywood desired, and like many writers, wrote a screenplay that felt personal and needed to be written. It tackles so many themes, it’s almost difficult to begin. While most rely on it being vampiric and about addiction, it’s important to note the journey that Hess and Ganja embark on together. Their romantic entanglement may by one of the most fascinating aspects of the film that is commonly overlooked because it is challenging to simplify.
It was officially reported earlier this year that Aquaman star Yahya Abdul-Mateen II had joined the cast of director Nia DaCosta‘s spiritual sequel to Candyman, and what we had been told at the time is that the actor would be playing our new Candyman. But that’s now being called into question, as DaCosta has brought some clarification to the reports.
It was all right there in the trailer.
There was Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) looking, dressing and acting like a regular degular Black mom in a car with her husband and two kids, headed to the beach. Then, Luniz’ “I Got 5 on It,” comes on the radio and she tries to get her young son Jason to…snap along with the song. “Get in rhythm,” she tells him, but sis, which one? She’s snapping on the one and the two and the three and a half. Adelaide is a fraud.
A swell of well drawn, whole, and complicated Black female characters in widely accessible horror cinema has been the charge of Graveyard Shift Sisters since the beginning. With a firmly established celebration of the past, it is now thankfully a time where we can look towards a future of care and visibility for fresh, new images that’ll have us talking for decades to come. There are shorts and features, both independent and mainstream that are making an 2019 appearance to celebrate and support. Here are a few that will prosper the discussion and scholarship surrounding the black women’s horror aesthetic.