Tag Archives: books

Late Night With the Devil (2023) & Abigail (2024) with bonus mention of Mr. Magic (2023) & I Saw the TV Glow (2024)

I don’t think I could explain the never-ending life-chaos of the last year if I wanted to, but suffice to say my rudely interrupted Christmas Horror series is all polished up and in the queue…for December 2024.

I’ve abandoned any delusions of intricate multi-part thematic series posts in the near and, while I have so many complicated things cooking offline, am returning (temporarily) to the short review/reaction essay format of yore. Because a full site redesign is one of the many things in flux right now, I’m going to append trailers at the bottom of the post because they’re creating so much formatting chaos I’m starting to think I have a ghost in the machine.

I can tell you one thing for sure: horror film and literature has been an embarrassment of riches lately.

Two films I’ve been looking forward to popped up on subscription streaming services and/or VOD sooner than I expected. I am not complaining. Late Night With the Devil (2023) debuted on Shudder on April 19, the theatrical release date for Abigail (2024), although I didn’t actually see Abigail until this past weekend.

In Late Night With the Devil, Writers/Directors Cameron and Colin Cairnes present us with a found footage homage to Ghost Watch (1992), The Exorcist II (1977), 1970s late night TV talkshows, and the Satanic Panic which never entirely dissipates in the US. Purporting to be a reconstruction of a live 1977 Halloween broadcast intended to boost host Jack Delroy’s (David Dastmalchian) trailing ratings, the narrative integrates broadcast and behind-the-scenes documentary footage to show us the catastrophic consequences of Delroy’s hunger for success. Dastmalchian’s performance and the masterful mise en scène have, deservedly, garnered quite a lot of praise and attention. The rushed and slightly incoherent third act has also garnered a lot of attention, albeit minus the acclaim. Ditto the controversy regarding 3 AI generated interstitial images which appear during Delroy’s show.

(joke about the devil being in the details deleted in a rare display of self-control)

I’m less interested here in the messy bits here. Instead, I want to take a moment to praise Ingrid Torelli’s performance as Lilly. Torelli does a bang-up job channeling the 1970s vibe of the possessed child manifesting a demon under hypnosis, but what I found chilling were the moments when Lilly is a polite and composed child who stares down the camera lens, seeming to pierce the souls of the viewers tuning in to watch Delroy’s live spectacle. I found Lilly’s uncanny awareness of which camera is live both amusing and disquieting.

Found footage writers and filmmakers have long leveraged the rise of indie creators such as Youtubers, livestreamers, and podcasters to their advantage. Not having to contrive a journalistic backstory or mimic specific televisual elements can allow for greater freedom. Nevertheless, the medium of television remains a rich source, particularly for cosmic or supernatural horror.

I Saw the TV Glow (2024) opens wide theatrically this week. While I likely won’t get a chance to see it until it arrives on streaming/VOD, I might occupy a little of that time with a reread of Kiersten White’s delightfully creepy 2023 novel, Mr. Magic.

Without spoilers, Mr. Magic is about a phenomenally popular 90s kids show that everyone remembers but of which no one can find footage. I’m continuously surprised that I still find it surprising how much work it still is to research television and how much once-wildly popular programming – even clips – simply isn’t anywhere to be found online. Reading Mr. Magic makes this feel vaguely sinister. I mean, you can certainly argue that it’s sinister the way we underfund archives and repositories and how little attention we pay to media conservation and preservation and how many impediments there are to digitizing and cataloging content, even without the complicated issues around posting anything corporately owned in a manner both legal and equitable.

But that’s depressing and not nearly as much fun as thinking about demons.

And speaking of demons. Abigail. Holy cats and kittens, this is a fun movie! As the trailer makes abundantly clear, the plot involves kidnappers (played by Melissa Barrera, Dan Stevens, Kathryn Newton, William Catlett, Angus Cloud, and Kevin Durand) getting more than they bargained for when Lambert (Giancarlo Esposito) asks them to kidnap a young girl (Alisha Weir). Fans often complain about trailers with spoilers, but here Universal seems almost playful in the way they supply a trailer that basically dares you to go into the film believing you know too much. The film unspools its twists and wrinkles at a steady clip and the internal logic is pretty solid. Solid enough, at any rate.


Abigail (2024)


Late Night With the Devil (2023)


I Saw the TV Glow (2024)

Gone Fishing? Well no, we’ve gone (Carrie) Fisher instead

I was going to post a clever Wonder Woman-themed gif to let you know we’re off to spend some quality time doing as little as possible on Siesta Key.

Alas, Florida had to suffer without our presence, because I broke my foot the day of our scheduled departure. That’s probably also why I forgot to post. It’s been a challenging time.

To be fair, our week hasn’t been nearly as challenging as the one had by this family in Cape Coral, Florida. They discovered a 4 foot monitor lizard living in their attic.

I figure not having a giant carnivorous lizard living in the attic is a big win and I should stop complaining.

Story courtesy of Craig Pittman, aka @craigtimes on Twitter.

But back to me, because this is all about me, damnit.

Husband named my cast Boba Foot. Admittedly, it was funnier when I was still taking painkillers, but it still makes me laugh.

We almost immediately started referring to it exclusively by name. I go back to see the surgeon next week and you know it’s going to blurt out of my mouth, so that could be fun.

On a Star Wars-related tangent, we started listening to Carrie Fisher’s audiobook of The Princess Diarist. I read it the day it came out, but since Husband hasn’t, it was in our road-trip entertainment stash.

I enjoyed the book when I first read it, but now that Fisher is dead it’s a bit sad, especially since I keep picturing her reading selections aloud to Gary.

Last night while we were listening, Husband suddenly sat bolt upright on the couch and snatched up his laptop. I paused the book and asked the most obvious question: “Are you looking for pictures of Gary?”

Husband didn’t actually think this was the most obvious question. I don’t know what’s wrong with him sometimes.

Happy Wednesday everyone, I’m back ??? #garyloveshisfans #garyloveshismom #garyfisher #garymisseshismom

A post shared by Gary Fisher (@garyfisher) on

He never did tell me what he needed to look up, or maybe I was too distracted by pictures of Gary to hear him.

Monster Jokes and Riddles

Recently, my favorite contrarian, Casey Rae, mentioned that he was running out of jokebooks with bad puns and corny riddles suitable for precocious little girls. I knew exactly the book their kid needed, because I adored it myself: Normal Bridwell’s Monster Jokes and Riddles.

It was probably my very first book fair purchase with my very own money. If, by “my very own money” you mean: “money my parents gave me for the book fair.” Which I probably do – the details are hazy.

I hadn’t thought about this book in YEARS, but I remembered how much fun the illustrations were and how funny I thought the jokes were. It was fun to re-connect with the source of a great deal of childhood joy.


Norman Bridwell's Monsters Jokes and Riddles (1972)
Front Cover: Norman Bridwell’s Monsters Jokes and Riddles (1972)

monsterback

Back Cover: Norman Bridwell’s Monsters Jokes and Riddles (1972)

My parents probably found this book to be less of a source of joy, because the jokes? The jokes are terrible.

And I loved them.

How terrible?

werewolfjoke

I’m pretty sure my mom used to hide the book under my bed in hopes I’d forget about it and quit telling her these jokes over and over and over.

Author Norman Bridwell is perhaps best known as the creator of Clifford of the Big Red Dog.

By the time I got my hands on this book, I’d heard vampire stories from my grandmother, who wasn’t as skilled in the art of the bedtime story as maybe she could have been. And I was terrified by Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein the first time I saw it. I think I understood it was a comedy, but…monsters!

I realize now that I was enjoying the fruits of the larger cultural shift that had transformed classic cinematic and literary monsters into humorous commodities on which the previous generation of children could spend their allowances. I didn’t understand that at the time, of course, but forty years later it’s my professional life, so I figured I should work it in here somehow.

Abbott and Costello aside, Brother and I certainly weren’t allowed to watch horror movies. The closest thing I got to horror was the Gothic lunacy of Disneyworld’s Haunted Mansion, which I still adore.

I’d never thought about what my first exposure to mummies was, but this joke book and Scooby-Doo are probably at the top of the list
.

What did the Pharoah say when he saw a lot of boll weevil bugs from the cotton fields stealing a mummy? “Mummy is the loot of all weevils.”

Needless to say, the joke book was an instant hit in Casey’s house. I bet he’s heard the one about what happened when the Frankenstein Monster asked for the girl’s hand in marriage (that was all he got) about a thousand times by now. I guess they’re still really busy enjoying it, because Casey hasn’t returned any of my texts!

Only kidding.

Casey’s probably avoiding me because of that other thing…