u/Such_Bad_Taste

The more Grady Hendrix I encounter, the bigger a fan I become.

He's got a sense of humor and that's relevant in his work, even when the work is meant to scare ya. Because this man loves horror and he knows how to ensure you're having a great time while reading it.

So it's a perfect for him to set-up a vampire comes to town story set in late-80's conservative South. It's an intensely mannered suburban world where everyone knows exactly how to behave and the slightest infraction can mean social icing.

When James Harris arrives, so tall, mysterious and handsome, pearls are about to get clutched. And while the women of the town, and more specifically the members low-brow book club, start to fall for him, they're quick to realize something is amiss. The men, however, with their polo shirts and praise for the Bush regime, are more impressed and much more hesitant to let suspicions get the better of them. James Harris, after-all, has the capacity to make them money, so it's easy to ignore a few infractions. And the women know they've got to listen to the men. this, darling, is the south after all. Harris doesn’t have to dismantle this community. He just figures out how it already works.

Our protagonist, Patricia is a trained medical professional so her skepticism for some of the wilder things that are happening in town is shrewd and quick. Her willingness to put her instincts aside, sometimes frustrating. But it's all in good fun with this novel, because, like all good Gothic tales, society has a hold on her. These women are expected to acquiesce and smooth everything over. Don't be so difficult!

So, even while the women are true crime experts, and are reading about serial killers and murder (under the guise of Bible Study). When an actual predator turns up in the neighborhood, they're the only ones who can do anything. So long as they let themselves.

As you've probably guessed too, there’s a broader political thing happening as well, particularly with who James chooses to prey on and how easily everyone else can ignore it. He moves into this comfortable white neighborhood and becomes respectable almost immediately while people in the less affluent and more melanated communities are disappearing. The whole thing is perfectly Reagan-era as the suffering of people the community already considers peripheral barely registers until it gets close enough to threaten them personally.

The blood and disease imagery also feels very specific to that period. There are obvious AIDS-era anxieties running through parts of it, although Hendrix doesn’t turn the book into some giant allegorical machine. He does deliver some great lines to the effect. It’s still allowed to be a vampire novel. Thank God.

And it gets gross! I was maybe not expecting exactly how gross, but I was here for it.

Hendrix lets the book feel funny and domestic for long stretches and then BAM he suddenly gives you something really unpleasant and physical. It felt very much like an 80s horror movie like the Fright Night or Night of the Demons. That same slightly ridiculous, genuinely nasty balance. I love that stuff.

I can see why this is one of Hendrix’s most popular books. Huge fan. Please bring the TV show on now.

The more Grady Hendrix I encounter, the bigger a fan I become.

He's got a sense of humor and that's relevant in his work, even when the work is meant to scare ya. Because this man loves horror and he knows how to ensure you're having a great time while reading it.

So it's a perfect for him to set-up a vampire comes to town story set in late-80's conservative South. It's an intensely mannered suburban world where everyone knows exactly how to behave and the slightest infraction can mean social icing.

When James Harris arrives, so tall, mysterious and handsome, pearls are about to get clutched. And while the women of the town, and more specifically the members low-brow book club, start to fall for him, they're quick to realize something is amiss. The men, however, with their polo shirts and praise for the Bush regime, are more impressed and much more hesitant to let suspicions get the better of them. James Harris, after-all, has the capacity to make them money, so it's easy to ignore a few infractions. And the women know they've got to listen to the men. this, darling, is the south after all. Harris doesn’t have to dismantle this community. He just figures out how it already works.

Our protagonist, Patricia is a trained medical professional so her skepticism for some of the wilder things that are happening in town is shrewd and quick. Her willingness to put her instincts aside, sometimes frustrating. But it's all in good fun with this novel, because, like all good Gothic tales, society has a hold on her. These women are expected to acquiesce and smooth everything over. Don't be so difficult!

So, even while the women are true crime experts, and are reading about serial killers and murder (under the guise of Bible Study). When an actual predator turns up in the neighborhood, they're the only ones who can do anything. So long as they let themselves.

As you've probably guessed too, there’s a broader political thing happening as well, particularly with who James chooses to prey on and how easily everyone else can ignore it. He moves into this comfortable white neighborhood and becomes respectable almost immediately while people in the less affluent and more melanated communities are disappearing. The whole thing is perfectly Reagan-era as the suffering of people the community already considers peripheral barely registers until it gets close enough to threaten them personally.

The blood and disease imagery also feels very specific to that period. There are obvious AIDS-era anxieties running through parts of it, although Hendrix doesn’t turn the book into some giant allegorical machine. He does deliver some great lines to the effect. It’s still allowed to be a vampire novel. Thank God.

And it gets gross! I was maybe not expecting exactly how gross, but I was here for it.

Hendrix lets the book feel funny and domestic for long stretches and then BAM he suddenly gives you something really unpleasant and physical. It felt very much like an 80s horror movie like the Fright Night or Night of the Demons. That same slightly ridiculous, genuinely nasty balance. I love that stuff.

I can see why this is one of Hendrix’s most popular books. Huge fan. Please bring the TV show on now.

There is a strange Venn diagram where a horror movie can be genuinely tight and disturbing while also becoming something you want to throw on late at night because you know it is going to deliver a fun time. Faces of Death lands right in the middle of it.

First thing to address is the comfort, because that is often where I think horror movies miss the mark and where those who don’t like horror fail to understand how horror movies can be comforting.

A lot of great horror relies on an understanding of what’s come before it. As a result, there ends up being a great comfort in coming in and knowing all the beats and predicting the plot twists and scares. It’s great when you don’t predict one and get genuinely surprised, but it’s still great to know when they are coming. It’s like going on a roller coaster with the assurance that your seatbelt will work. I’m not sure why you would go on if it didn’t, but I digress.

So, to that end, this movie is not especially difficult to predict. You can feel where most of it is heading the whole time and the story hits many of the beats you expect it to hit. But that is great. There are whole horror canons that exist in this field, and so when one of them still manages to be fun, it’s an absolute blast.

With Faces of Death, the expertly executed direction and editing make the familiar beats work. There is a real live-wire energy to the way it is put together, and the movie keeps finding fun ways to deliver things you already know are coming. Dare I say, you might not even look at your phone while watching!

And you’re better off for not looking at your phone because this thing looks fantastic. The film has a grubby, tactile quality that suits the material, and its affection for older horror filmmaking comes through everywhere. The fantastic synth-heavy soundtrack gives it an excellent late-night charge. You can feel the homage without the movie becoming buried beneath its references. Editor’s note: I’m listening to the excellent soundtrack by Gavin Brivik while writing this.

The cast pulls it off on camera too. Everyone understands the tone, which allows the film to move between dread and absurdity without coming apart. Dacre Montgomery is a real standout for me, jumping between different emotional registers seamlessly.

Impressively, the film has something to say too. Fact is, we are surrounded by horrible images all the time and violence has become content, so it feels like this was the perfect time to remake Faces of Death, a film that questions our relationship with viewing death. That original plays a huge role in this one as well, in a very clever self-referential way as it is an inspiration for our antagonist. This version respects the original by reinterpreting its central thesis, exploring the state we are in, and finding a way to engage with it without turning the movie into a lecture.

In other words, it’s smart without needing to announce its intelligence. It has plenty to say about the way we consume violence and still understands that a horror movie should be a great time.

All of this is to say, this one deserves more eyes on it than I think it’s been getting. I can already feel this becoming a late-night comfort movie for me and something of a future cult classic because, as horror fans, it is a weirdly comforting experience to watch a film acknowledge all the horrible shit we see every day and still manage to have this much fun with it.

There is a strange Venn diagram where a horror movie can be genuinely tight and disturbing while also becoming something you want to throw on late at night because you know it is going to deliver a fun time. Faces of Death lands right in the middle of it.

First thing to address is the comfort, because that is often where I think horror movies miss the mark and where those who don’t like horror fail to understand how horror movies can be comforting.

A lot of great horror relies on an understanding of what’s come before it. As a result, there ends up being a great comfort in coming in and knowing all the beats and predicting the plot twists and scares. It’s great when you don’t predict one and get genuinely surprised, but it’s still great to know when they are coming. It’s like going on a roller coaster with the assurance that your seatbelt will work. I’m not sure why you would go on if it didn’t, but I digress.

So, to that end, this movie is not especially difficult to predict. You can feel where most of it is heading the whole time and the story hits many of the beats you expect it to hit. But that is great. There are whole horror canons that exist in this field, and so when one of them still manages to be fun, it’s an absolute blast.

With Faces of Death, the expertly executed direction and editing make the familiar beats work. There is a real live-wire energy to the way it is put together, and the movie keeps finding fun ways to deliver things you already know are coming. Dare I say, you might not even look at your phone while watching!

And you’re better off for not looking at your phone because this thing looks fantastic. The film has a grubby, tactile quality that suits the material, and its affection for older horror filmmaking comes through everywhere. The fantastic synth-heavy soundtrack gives it an excellent late-night charge. You can feel the homage without the movie becoming buried beneath its references. Editor’s note: I’m listening to the excellent soundtrack by Gavin Brivik while writing this.

The cast pulls it off on camera too. Everyone understands the tone, which allows the film to move between dread and absurdity without coming apart. Dacre Montgomery is a real standout for me, jumping between different emotional registers seamlessly.

Impressively, the film has something to say too. Fact is, we are surrounded by horrible images all the time and violence has become content, so it feels like this was the perfect time to remake Faces of Death, a film that questions our relationship with viewing death. That original plays a huge role in this one as well, in a very clever self-referential way as it is an inspiration for our antagonist. This version respects the original by reinterpreting its central thesis, exploring the state we are in, and finding a way to engage with it without turning the movie into a lecture.

In other words, it’s smart without needing to announce its intelligence. It has plenty to say about the way we consume violence and still understands that a horror movie should be a great time.

All of this is to say, this one deserves more eyes on it than I think it’s been getting. I can already feel this becoming a late-night comfort movie for me and something of a future cult classic because, as horror fans, it is a weirdly comforting experience to watch a film acknowledge all the horrible sh*t we see every day and still manage to have this much fun with it.

There is a strange Venn diagram where a horror movie can be genuinely tight and disturbing while also becoming something you want to throw on late at night because you know it is going to deliver a fun time. Faces of Death lands right in the middle of it.

First thing to address is the comfort, because that is often where I think horror movies miss the mark and where those who don’t like horror fail to understand how horror movies can be comforting.

A lot of great horror relies on an understanding of what’s come before it. As a result, there ends up being a great comfort in coming in and knowing all the beats and predicting the plot twists and scares. It’s great when you don’t predict one and get genuinely surprised, but it’s still great to know when they are coming. It’s like going on a roller coaster with the assurance that your seatbelt will work. I’m not sure why you would go on if it didn’t, but I digress.

So, to that end, this movie is not especially difficult to predict. You can feel where most of it is heading the whole time and the story hits many of the beats you expect it to hit. But that is great. There are whole horror canons that exist in this field, and so when one of them still manages to be fun, it’s an absolute blast.

With Faces of Death, the expertly executed direction and editing make the familiar beats work. There is a real live-wire energy to the way it is put together, and the movie keeps finding fun ways to deliver things you already know are coming. Dare I say, you might not even look at your phone while watching!

And you’re better off for not looking at your phone because this thing looks fantastic. The film has a grubby, tactile quality that suits the material, and its affection for older horror filmmaking comes through everywhere. The fantastic synth-heavy soundtrack gives it an excellent late-night charge. You can feel the homage without the movie becoming buried beneath its references. Editor’s note: I’m listening to the excellent soundtrack by Gavin Brivik while writing this.

The cast pulls it off on camera too. Everyone understands the tone, which allows the film to move between dread and absurdity without coming apart. Dacre Montgomery is a real standout for me, jumping between different emotional registers seamlessly.

Impressively, the film has something to say too. Fact is, we are surrounded by horrible images all the time and violence has become content, so it feels like this was the perfect time to remake Faces of Death, a film that questions our relationship with viewing death. That original plays a huge role in this one as well, in a very clever self-referential way as it is an inspiration for our antagonist. This version respects the original by reinterpreting its central thesis, exploring the state we are in, and finding a way to engage with it without turning the movie into a lecture.

In other words, it’s smart without needing to announce its intelligence. It has plenty to say about the way we consume violence and still understands that a horror movie should be a great time.

All of this is to say, this one deserves more eyes on it than I think it’s been getting. I can already feel this becoming a late-night comfort movie for me and something of a future cult classic because, as horror fans, it is a weirdly comforting experience to watch a film acknowledge all the horrible sh*t we see every day and still manage to have this much fun with it.