Watching Movies Alone with crumbsroom

Sometimes, you need the Devil to come down to where you work and slap the cocks out your sockets.


Speaking of cocksockets, I want to write a little bit about some of those folk horror films, or even about the parameters of the rough subgenre it's supposed to be since the question was asked, but I don't think that thread, being in the "home theatre" section, is the right place for write-ups and discussion. Maybe it is, but I think that subforum is more about gear and setups and stuff. I know you've seen Eyes of Fire and Viy but have you seen anything else there?

I think Eyes of Fire and Viy are the only ones I've seen. I've rarely been so intrigued by a box set of anything.Almost all of them are complete mysteries to me.


If you have anything to say about any of them, bring it.

Yes, please. I know little of these films that are included in the set, outside Viy and Witchhammer.

I'll chime in for this folk horror discussion. From that boxed set I've seen Leptirica, Viy, Celia, Dark Waters and A Field in England. I think the first two are clearly folk, the next two as clearly aren't, and the last one I don't remember well enough to really have an opinion.

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The Roches > The Who

Add Witchhammer as one that isn’t as well.

So what's the score here?


I think you, crumbs, might be the only other person here who shares my utter disdain for Baby Driver. I hated that film when I saw it in the theater, and wrote a pan about the disasterous film debut by Jared Kushner, and was roundly *tsk*ed by the community, because "apparently" (as in not very apparent to me at all), this Bay-Bay is supposed to be spectrumish or something and therefore he was supposed to be a vacuous charmhole? Once again my latent ableism has damned me to a debilitating disadvantage here. I should probably steer clear of the eventual Spielberg version of West Side Story that will have Ansel Elgort (*fffffffffffffffffffffff*) doing more of whatever he's supposed to be doing, so as to not further incriminate my hateful prejudices.


MKS is definitely wrong about Annette - a marvelously dark take on toxic ego and exploitation in show business culture - but I will agree that it isn't as good as Holy Motors.


I didn't "hate" Rocketman, but it definitely falls into that category of garish mediocrity that I know you find useless. None of these types of celebrity bioflicks are ever actually about the human beings involved but about the elaborate media mythology they've persistently constructed for themselves. These films are celebrations of the myths rather than examinations of the artists. The kind of audiences who aren't interested in documentaries, which tend to be far more illuminating and insightful, are exactly the audiences who want to see the myths rather than the facts. Unfortunately, there's a whole slate of recent documentaries (I won't bother to name them, but you can usually see their allegience to the myth on the poster) that have also chosen to curate the myth rather than reveal the person, and usually all of these kinds of films have a direct hand involved by those most interested in preserving these myths (the estate, for example). Probably the most flattering thing I can say about Rocketman is that it's generally much better than the even more tepid and chimeric Bohemian Rhapsody, released just prior, and I'm not sure how much generosity I granted Rocketman due to this slight relief. (Although I gave it a 7/10, I think, so it was a minimal gratuity.) I don't hold it against Egerton, an actor I've never been particularly impressed with, who was clearly cast precisely because he's better looking and in much better physical shape than Elton John ever was (no one wants to see the real Reggie's frogman-physique in an orgy), but I think he did a admirable job with what he was given to do. Anyway, better than Ansel Elgort, or whatever other actor anagram of a throat disease is out there.

It is intriguing for me to try to define "folk horror". It seems straightforward enough - horror based in folk tales and customs - but the problem for me is that this would implicate a lot of the horror genre by default if we consider that vampires, witches, werewolves, zombies and a vast array of sprites, spirits, invocations, subtle influences and the spectrum of demonic beliefs and occultic practice would all fall under this banner. That's a lot of horror right there, especially as the box set shows that these films don't need to be confined to the "folk" setting of these beliefs (Alison's Birthday, for example, set in 1979 Australia about a transported Druid cult.)


The genre then gets really nebulous to define so precisely, and this is further complicated by the fact that some of the films aren't necessarily "horror" either - Witchhammer is political allegory, Field in England a slightly comic head movie, Penda's Fen is a fairly philisophical interrogation of Christianity. In the end, I see this box set as an excellent collection of obscure and unearthed, largely unavailable, loosely-related films that deal with "pagan" traditions in one way or another that would make for a wonderful film festival. I also look forward to seeing the box's original documentaries and interview material. As it is, I had to indulge in the clips I posted from youtube. I'm poor!

I'm watching Count Me In on Netflix right now.

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I'm not a genre purist so perhaps I'm more like "defining" than really defining (if you get my meaning).

So, to me, there's a huge difference between Stoker-inspired vampires and something like Viy or Leptirica. Similar lines can be drawn for all the topics you listed (albeit some are harder than others). I tend to connect folk with paganism, too, so preferably folk horror relies on beliefs that predate the invasion of Abrahamic religions. It's equally about the topic and the way it's handled.

There are films that are hard to classify, though. The VVitch is a great example of this; it's clearly Christian in its mythology, but still the presentation is very folk to me. The two films from the box I gave a firm "no" aren't in such a gray area, in my opinion. Celia is centered around childhood trauma, and its only relation to folk is the tale that Celia heard at school. Dark Waters is a rather Lovecraftian horror set in a monastery and has no folk elements at all.

The box looks really interesting. Unfortunately, I don't have the money to buy it so I may resort to, eh, "stealing" the films once they're available.

Il Demonio - 9/10


A nice example of a non-horror film from the box that nonetheless is significant to underlying the essentials of the horror genre. Again, like Witchhammer, the film is more of a sociopolitical allegory, involving a witch who is not a witch. This, too, has no explicit supernatural elements, only the brutal force of superstition and irrational fears of sexuality. A workable definition of "folk horror" could be the specific type of "folks" who create their own demonic phantoms out of such primative fears and compulsions to persecution. Classics like Wicker Man and Witchfinder General would meet this standard. The title of the box set seems to suggest this as well, that the horror is "ours", created and projected but ultimately man-made cruelty, which is far more terrifying than our insidious scapegoats. (Alas, there are enough purely supernatural films in the box to render this definition moot.)


Haxan is perhaps the best example of such a folk horror phenomenon, taking the witch myth and rendering it as a symptom of the hysteria at the intersection of zealous authority and sexual phobia. Il demonio is another example of a young woman who is ostricized and persecuted for resorting to folk methods for obtaining her object of desire. The film draws the through line from Haxan to Viridiana (the church's sexual cruelty) to Repulsion (psychological fracturing) to The Exorcist, with an early exorcism depiction which includes what must have been the inspiration for the latter film's wisely excised "spider walk" scene. However, despite these now common signposts of related horror films, there is no demonic possession, no demon and certainly no divine mercy. The woman has been possessed by the superstitions imposed onto her. Like Witchhammer, the film is a drama and a tragedy.


Special note for Israeli actress Daliah Lavi, maybe best known from Whip and the Body and Lord Jim, who gives a stunning performance here. A lovely woman, obviously, she manages to exude an erotic energy in the most unlovely, contorted conditions. Her sexuality is rarely explicit, but it's this strong sensuality which defines her witchyness, that seems to attract her abusers like moths to a flame. As her sexual aura sours, it takes on these seemingly demonic features, and we can see directly the ultimately sexual essence for which she is being exploited and persecuted. I suppose the film's lack of actual horror is the reason for its relative obscurity in discussion of Italian horror, but this was a very welcome discovery. Don't expect Bava. This is closer to Malena than Carmilla.

This tension is definitely a huge theme in these films, but it can take on different forms. There's a lot where the superstitious church is the root of the evil (Haxan, again, demonizing what is a rather benign rustic tradition), and those where the pagan traditions represent ancient evil (usually human sacrifice, etc.) It's interesting to see which films champion the one over the other, or which ones see these as competing corruptions. You mention The VVitch, which seems to try to have it both ways, as a critique of religious fundamentalism and superstition, but still portraying the Witch as the realization of those superstitions.


From what I've recently seen, I'd recommend Penda's Fen, which isn't a horror film so much as a drama of a young man wrestling with certain contradictions in his Christian faith. Mentioning paganism, the term "elemental" is used, and I think it's a worthwhile substitute for what is a diverse collection of local folk traditions. One thing that pagans have in common, and most of these films seem to have in common in reflecting, is the veneration of natural, elemental forces. One thing that strikes me about these films is that in many of them, the landscape is such a central feature. The films are green and grey, you can almost smell the mist and mildew and settled rain. The sympathetic magic which is at the heart of pagan beliefs is palpably represented by making these natural elements into living and consequential actors, as opposed to the austere and sterile environs of cleanly civilization. I think that the different attitudes of cleanliness and consecration are vital to what folk horror achieves.


Does it not? I was thinking that it was one of those "monastary built on a sacred pagan site" stories where a elite cult of nuns were preserving these pre-Christian traditions. I saw this one several years back, so I'll have to revisit, but I think the folk elements have something to do with the main amulet.

Penda's Fen - 9/10


Maybe the most pleasant surprise from my recent viewings, this film seems quite unassuming. As I noted, the film isn't really horror in any conceivable sense, and its otherwise sober presentation may put off a lot of viewers expecting something more sinister, or at least less talkative. But it's in the film's discussion and dissection of English history, pagan culture and Christian faith where the film shows a thoughtful and enlightening curiosity and fascinating regard for its subject matter, not simply as wrapping paper for more conventional scares but as the main course of concern. That description may be enough to dissuade those with little interest in what is basically a literary film to a fault. Eventually the film does show some phantasmagoria in a handful of dreams/hallucinations, though even these are so drenched in the pagan/Christian iconography as to be incomprehensible to those not paying attention. But as a portrait of this tension between pagan and Christian philosophy, and as a character study of a young man wrestling with this complex relationship, I'm hard pressed to think of another comparable piece of work.

Robin Redbreast - 8/10


Frequently cited as a Wicker Man precursor, this also involves a mysterious pagan tradition which an unaware outsider is coerced into participating. Some of its convolutions are frustratingly inane, but the plot remains intriguing with a number of surprises. Shot on B&W videotape for the BBC, which has its obvious limitations, lacking the crackling chromatic contrast of film, and the film is largely shot more in utilitarian storytelling economy than visual evocation. Anna Cropper, an actress I'm not previously familiar with, is outstanding in the role as the dupe, a modern woman completely out of her element.


Alison's Birthday - 7/10


An Australian horror film with a plot eerily similar in some ways to Hereditary, but without the more manipulative trauma (perhaps illustrating why the latter was somewhat gratuitous). The film is competantly made, but without a lot of imagination and some occasionally ludicrous moments (including its absurd opening prologue which is almost hilarious). What's most remarkable is Joanne Samuel as Alison, an actress largely unseen outside of playing Max Rockatansky's wife. She makes the other actors look like amateurs by comparison.


Tilbury - 7/10


Short (53 min) Icelandic film that is more comedy than horror, about a barely disguised randy little snot monster who's sleeping with our hero's old crush. Bit of a breeze, but charming.

Maybe it's just me, but I always saw the film much more Lovecraftian than folk or pagan (as in real-world beliefs). In the film's context, it's a pagan thing but to qualify as folk (to me, at least) it would need to have its roots in reality instead of being pure fiction invented for the story. In any case, it's such a beautifully shot movie.

I guess crumbs is just waiting for me to post some Kinks.