The older I get, the less patience I have for teen movies. I’m turning crotchety. Know what? I prefer the curmudgeonly proprietor of Missile Test to the angsty teen who, once upon a time, would have liked this movie. I welcome the growing gulf between teenagers and myself. But what a conflict this presents. I love horror flicks, and the horror and teen genres exist in a symbiotic relationship that has paid dividends throughout the length and breadth of cinematic history. What to do when I cross paths with a movie like House at the End of the Street, a psychological horror flick that is decidedly youth-oriented. I put on my objective cap and judge the film on its merits, that’s what.
In this film, Jennifer Lawrence and her mom (Elisabeth Shue) move into a house in the swanky part of some town, somewhere (it’s Canada). A few years before, the house next door was the scene of a grisly murder, where a psychotic girl butchered her parents. Welcome to the neighborhood, Jennifer and Jennifer’s mom. Continue reading “October Horrorshow: House at the End of the Street”
I have fond memories of this flick. I remember first discovering it with my father in the mid-80s. I’ve written about this before, but I got my love of shitty horror flicks from the old man. We thought we had discovered a real winner with Fright Night. We were expecting something cheesy and low budget. I mean, there was no way this could turn out to be a good movie, right? It stars Roddy MacDowall, for crying out loud. But, Fright Night exceeded both of our expectations. It’s a damn good horror flick, and since it’s now about thirty years old, I think it’s safe to call it a classic.
A couple years back, I wanted to read Pet Sematary. These days, I prefer epubs to printed books. But believe it or not, the only epub edition I could find of that book, without torrenting a bootleg copy riddled with scanning errors, was in German. So, I had to go to a bookstore, something I hadn’t done in a long time. I found a mass-market paperback copy on the horror shelf of a Barnes & Noble near the World Trade Center. I could have been in and out of the store like a flash, but failure to browse in a bookstore is an intellectual misdemeanor, so I took a look around. When I think of a bookstore, the genres on the shelves tend to hold steady. Fiction and literature, horror, mystery, nonfiction, supernatural teen romance...huh?