60 Nights of Horror #26-30: Life Happens

For the last couple years, in addition to being a full time death care worker and performer, I’ve also been a student at a trade school. It’s been hard out here, and the last semesters of school have decided that they’re going to be the hardest so far. Going back to college in my 30s has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was able to find time now and again to watch movies and think about them, but the closer I get to graduation, the less and less time I’ve had to share these thoughts with anyone. Though I did have a nice conversation at the end of October regarding The Vigil, as Jewish funeral ritual was the subject of one of my big projects.

Here’s what the 60 Nights of Horror 2022 final list would have been if I’d have continued to write about it. Or, well, September.

26: The Voices (2014). A cute-ish Ryan Reynolds feature about a dude who lets his animals tell him what to do. He’s a sweet guy and all the colors are beautiful pastels and his apartment (when he’s fantasizing) is a precious mid-century modern paradise. It’s kind of a musical, Gemma Arterton and Anna Kendrick costar and I’m surprised I’d never heard of this sooner. It might have been a comfort movie for me if it had come out in my teens. It could be part of a double feature with Down With Love. In fact, I hope that Peyton Reed and Marjane Satrapi know each other and are good friends.

27: The Fearless Vampire Killers (1967): Jesus fuck did I want to love this movie. I held off on seeing it for so long, I just knew in my heart that I could going to think it was the best thing since sliced bread, and when I finally sat down to watch it I was so disappointed. I was like “Who the fuck watched this and thought ‘We need to give Roman Polanski more money?’” As a diehard devotee of Rosemary’s Baby, I was waiting to laugh, I was waiting to be swept away by art direction and costuming, and this movie was a fart on borrowed sets, bedecked in the leftovers from the Hammer lot swap meet.

28: The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973): Now THIS was what I was craving. This whole movie was a campy, sexy ad for everything I loved about early 70s British fashion. Every pair of glasses, every watch, every hairstyle, I felt like I was flipping through an issue of Harper’s Bazaar while sipping a gimlet under an awning on a rainy day in Soho, catching whiffs of tobacco and sweaty wool as a bunch of alleged Satanists bustle from the bar at my back, eager to make it to the ritual in time for tea. It felt especially appropriate given the pandemic and I’d be glad to watch it again with a critical eye instead of getting swept into the beauty of the world building.

29: Vampyros Lesbos (1971): If you think I watch this for the plot, you’re wrong. I watch it for the soundtrack while I fold laundry and do household chores.

30: She (1965): I don’t know what I was expecting. I knew and loved the song “Who Is She” by I Monster, I’ve danced to it many times, I put off watching the movie because I wanted to read the book, which I also never did. I finally buckled down because we were doing a Hammer vibes week, and we committed to watching it. With Peter Cushing and Ursula Andress, how could we go wrong? For starters this movie is about 2.5 hours too long and should have been a music video for “Who Is She” by I Monster. Seriously, I do not like to abandon movies once I start them but this was so easy to ignore. We talked the whole time about completely unrelated shit. We kept rewinding and asking what had happened, and nothing had happened, and like “Oh, she’s an immortal boss bitch? Awesome. Anyway” like how can you make a movie about Ursula Andress being an immortal boss bitch and still leave me bored? How dare??