There are so many ways that  members of the horror community get together to celebrate the genre- in person at informal get-togethers (when possible) and conventions, through online forums and social networking, and from sharing their enthusiasm and knowledge through magazines, blogs, websites, and podcasts. Podcasts about the horror genre, and especially horror movies, seem to be gaining momentum, and they can be a good, if informal (and sometimes long-winded), source of information about both the horror genre and horror-loving library patrons. Reviewer Wendy Zazo-Phillips checked out The Cutting Room, a horror movie review podcast, and liked what she heard enough to approach the hosts for an interview(note, there’s some informal language), which you’ll find below. You can find her review here.  Joseph Christiana, aka “Joe Mummy”, one of the show’s hosts, also wrote a guest review for us comparing Ratman’s Notebooks by Stephen Gilbert with the movie Willard and its remake, and I’ll share that with you later this week.  Take some time and read what the folks from The Cutting Room had to say- there’s some really interesting stuff!

 

Interview with The Cutting Room Podcast
by W.E. Zazo-Phillips

The Cutting Room, a bi-weekly podcast dedicated to horror film news and reviews, was launched in February of 2012 under the umbrella of Bill Chete’s Horror Palace Network. The four cohosts—Tom “TomaHawk” Dettloff, Joseph “Joe Mummy” Christiana, William “The Evil Reverend Billy Grim” Bourassa and  Max “The California Chainsaw MaxSacre” Koch—bring a wide body of experience with independent filmmaking (Gramps: Beneath the Surface, Motel Americana Volume II, The Nightmare) and an overall love of the horror genre to their online commentary. I interviewed three of the cohosts for Monster Movie Month; The Monster Librarian’s review of the podcast can be found here.

 

Wendy Zazo-Phillips (WZP): Tell us how The Cutting Room podcast began.

TomaHawk (TH): It was basically Joe Mummy who started the program. He e-mailed me in January with this idea for a horror film review podcast and we pitched it to Bill Chete on horrorpalace.com and three weeks later we were podcasting. It really came out of nowhere! It’s really been a rewarding experience and I really have to thank Joe Mummy for initiating the idea and recommending that I host the show.

Joe Mummy (JM): The Cutting Room began when Bill Chete, the evil genius behind Horror Palace, asked me to be a guest on his podcast, Horror Jungle, in 2011 to talk about my film The Nightmare. One thing led to another, and I was invited to co-host the show with him and his merry gang. That podcast eventually sprouted appendages and became multiple podcasts, most of which constitute what’s currently the Horror Palace Network. I was tied up with other film-related projects, so I didn’t join up with Horror Palace immediately, but after a discussion with my old friend Tom Dettloff, and realizing he’d make a damn fine host, I decided to pitch the show to Bill. He was eager to have us on. Rounding out the panel with my cinematographer and long-time collaborator, William Bourassa, was a no-brainer (we’ve been having a marathon discussion about cinema for ten years running now). The rest, as they say, is history.

MaxSacre (MS): I came on Episode 003 as a guest. Evidently, it went so well that the boys asked me to be a permanent part of the show. At first, I was very hesitant to join the “cast” because I have ENOUGH CRAP going on in my life. But I enjoyed Tom and Mummy and The Rev so much that I took the leap. And now I have a ball doing this show. I take the assignments SO seriously. It’s my geek time.

 

 

WZP: What was the first horror movie you saw, and what do you remember from the experience?

JM: I believe that the first horror film I watched was Wolfen, and I remember being unable to sit still. I ended up watching the film from the dining room, peeking around the corner at the television. My parents were more amused by me than the film. Those wolf Point of View shots haunt me to this day.

But what sticks in my mind as my most terrifying early horror experience wouldn’t be considered a horror film at all (though I plan to one day make a case for it as such on the show). It was The Man Who Saw Tomorrow, hosted by Orson Welles. It’s a documentary about the predictions of Nostradamus, and it’s all pretty silly now, of course, but at the time I had never seen anything like it. I was a kid, and I believed whatever the TV said, especially when it was told with the straight-faced gravity of Mr. Welles. I guess I really got to know firsthand what The War of The Worlds broadcast did to folks way back in 1938. Anyway, The Man Who Saw Tomorrow plagued my thoughts for months. I mean, I was a Roman Catholic kid with all of the church’s cruel fairy tales of hell and damnation and guilt swirling around in my naive head… and now because of Welles’ message of doom, I truly thought the end of the world was imminent—Yikes.

MS: I remember my Grandpa Bill letting me stay up all night with him on weekends watching Hammer films while he pounded Budweisers. But it was Burnt Offerings that seriously scarred me for life. I believe I was… NINE or so when I first saw it late at night on the Z channel, unbeknownst to my mother.

TH: The first one is kinda weird. I was six years old and my grandparents took me to the drive in to see a horror film called The Children, [which was] about a school bus full of kids that are exposed to a nuclear leak and turn into murderous zombie-like beings with long black fingernails. I remember wanting to imitate the kids in the film, and would pretend to attack any adult in my path with my pretend long black fingernails. I think this began my struggle with authority in general, actually.

 

 

WZP: The author Kim Newman once said that there are people that will claim not to enjoy reading or watching horror stories, but yet almost everyone has read or seen (i.e.) A Christmas Carol and/or The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. What is it about horror stories that draw people to them, and why do you think people are generally skittish about admitting to liking them?

TH: Horror deals with a ton of very human subjects including death, family, fear and even relationships. These are all very enigmatic themes that we are drawn to. A good horror film will take these elements and make us think in a way that other genres cannot even come close to. Horror is an almost cathartic ritual. As far as admitting our love for these films… Horror is such a rogue community that can be compared to say punk music. It is such a go against the norm-kinda thing that people who have a hard time with truly being themselves may find it difficult to admit to the mainstream that they love this stuff.

JM: I think one part of the appeal of horror films is the ability to safely come to terms with the terror of our own mortality. Cinema is that great tour guide of our emotions and desires and our fears. In a theater we can experience the triumphs and tragedies of the characters on the screen with the assurance that we won’t actually be hurt or arrested. We can fall in love with a heart stopping beauty, and truly ache for her, but at the end of the day we know we’re not going to be heartbroken. Later, when in our real life we actually do get heartbroken, we maybe have a way to deal with it or at least come to terms with it because of the experience we have in the movies.

The same goes for the horror of loss, pain, and death. In the movies, we can experience all those things without actually losing a loved one or bleeding or dying. We can hold our own mortality at arms-length and inspect it from a relatively safe distance. Through the horror film we’re able to look death in the eyes and see what it actually might be like. By doing this, we experience something that’s necessary, and it’s necessary for those us who take the time to contemplate our ultimate fates. Simply put: by going to the movies to be afraid, we neutralize our fear. This is the same deal with roller-coasters and bungee jumping etc. Just another way to skin the cat.

The converse is also true, of course: we can feel what it might be like to kill without actually having to do it. If you’re an honest with yourself and acknowledge that you repress violent impulses in absurdly complicated charades of self-delusion on an almost daily basis, it becomes clear quite quickly that the voyeuristic experience of cinema provides an important, possibly necessary, psychological outlet for that violence. There’s no way to prove this, of course, but I’d be willing to bet that there are fewer horror fans than religious zealots on death row for murder. If you keep those dark urges tied down with no release, unable to even acknowledge them, then sooner or later those ties are gonna loosen and… Well, let’s just say this: I’m more frightened by a Jesus freak than I am of a Michael Myers fanatic.

The second part of the question:

I think there are generally two reasons why some folks can’t come to terms with horror stories. The first has to do with what I mention above: some folks for one reason or another can’t look their mortality or dark urges in the eye. It makes them uneasy, so they just choose not to think about it, let alone invest themselves in dramatic allegories about it. That, or they’re just not all that inquisitive about their own living experience (death is a part of life, after all) and I have no idea how such minds operate, so can’t really explain it.

The second reason has more to do with simple aesthetics. The culture of horror as an art form has created a certain dynamic of one-upmanship. With every passing generation the filmmaker attempts to make something more horrifying and disturbing to garner attention. The easiest way for a filmmaker to do this is to simply splat more blood across the screen (easiest, not the best way, I’d like to note). It’s done for shock value and to provoke strong reactions, mostly from those self-repressing individuals I mention above.

Fans of the genre realize they’re pissing their parents and teachers off by aligning themselves with these ‘nasty’ films and form a kind of identity around it—it’s an act of rebellion of sorts. Look at punk or hip hop or the James Dean’s leather jacket; it’s the same thing. Rebellion is easily marketable, and horror films have a lovely way of reaching its fans through the mainstream and indie underground alike. This perpetuates the blood spilling, and what we have now is a vicious cycle of “horror” films that are little more than a parade of gushing latex wounds and severed body parts.

One of the recurrent conversations we have on the show, at least one that I keep trying to bring up, is that these films aren’t really “horror” because at some point (usually about 10 minutes into the film), because the torrents of blood cease to be scary; it’s amazing how quickly we can be desensitized. The fountains of red just become silly, gross, or both; it’s revulsion. And though revulsion has some overlap with horror, I believe it demands some sort of distinction—they’ve been calling it “torture porn” of late.

Anyway, I think when I mention horror to most folks who aren’t fanatics, they equate the genre with the blood-splat stuff that started (and this is a source of a debate that could be endless) in the eighties with the slasher pictures. And here’s the answer: It’s understandable for healthy folks to want to avoid these types of pictures. Subjecting yourself to revolting imagery for two hours is masochistic, after all. I usually tell them that not all horror is like that and that I prefer Poltergeist and Take Shelter to Friday the 13th and The Human Centipede. It usually starts an interesting discussion.

MS: Very few people are interested in facing their darkest fears; I embrace the opportunity. And I don’t care if anyone finds me odd or creepy or sick for loving horror: I have an excuse. I was basically born INTO death and darkness when my father was killed a month before I was born. It’s in my DNA. So my whole life has been about black clothing and graveyards and lifting up the rock and looking under it. I love to find great beauty in ugliness. And, best of all, I am a total sweetheart who escorts spiders out the door all the while. I would never hurt you. And why? Because I know the dark side of life and can observe it as an entertainment or a distraction. I have the outlet. Horror is catharsis. And most people, frankly, are pussies.

 

 

WZP: Which medium of horror is the most powerful: the written text, the spoken word, or the motion picture?

MS: I wish I had more time to read horror lit; I do. But the horror motion picture is undeniable to me—it’s become my default genre now that Stanley Kubrick is dead. It’s rough because for every single decent horror film, there are 20 unwatchable ones. But it’s also about the HUNT for me, too.

JM: I’m a filmmaker, what can I say? I love a good book and campfire story, but there’s something about the physicality of cinema that’s taken hold of me and is showing no signs of letting go.

TH: To me, it’s the motion picture. I feel that film is by far the most powerful art form. There is nothing more real than the motion picture. If used correctly nothing can be more effective.

 

 

WZP: What makes a good horror movie?

MS: A profound LACK of comedy.

TH: Usually a scary mask (just kidding.) Atmosphere is my thing. I find that my favorite horror films like The Shining, Funny Games and Dawn of the Dead have this great atmosphere to them that allows the viewer to become involved with the story unlike most other horror films.

JM: Holy cannoli—whole lives can be spent answering this one. I’ll answer with the definition of horror I’ve been working on since starting the show, and I’ve tried to distill it down to its simplest terms, keeping it broad enough for a wide array of sub-genres: a horror film is one that’s main intent is to scare you. So the more frightened a film makes you, the better the horror film.

 

 

WZP: Was going to the library a part of your childhood? Do you still go?

MS: It was; it really was. My mom was a nurse who worked two jobs, so the library was a built-in babysitter for me after school. I mostly studied/devoured/checked out movie monster books; I did read Shelley’s Frankenstein at a young age. I can’t go to libraries anymore, though, because I’ve had bad luck with DNA on the books I would check out, some of a worse degree than others…

TH: I loved the library when I was a child. It was a great escape. In high school I spent almost every lunch hour in the library reading. I think as an adult I really gave up on going, although I do pop in a couple times a year. It’s an important place that every community should take advantage of.

JM: Yes on both counts. That reminds me, I have to return David Foster Wallace’s Consider the Lobster today.

 

 

WZP: The purpose of our website is to help librarians make well-informed decisions about which horror-genre books to purchase for their collections. Since we are celebrating Monster Movie Month, what horror books and/or movies do you feel are “must have” titles for libraries?

JM: Since my Ratman’s Notebooks review/recommendation is long enough to choke a horse, I’m going to respectfully pass on this one, except to say that while writing the review two tracks from Nick Cave’s album Murder Ballads popped up in my ITunes DJ app. It’s a pretty fantastic collection of macabre songs and belongs in a library.

TH: I am a big fan of most Stephen King novels but all libraries should have Poe. I am not a fan of Poe, but I recognize his unique talent.
MS: As long as John Carpenter’s Halloween is available to patrons, you’re golden. It is gore-less and one of the finest studies in suspense I have ever witnessed. Also, and this is most important to me… young girls with an interest in horror need to discover that strong-willed women are the PREDOMINANT survivors in most horror films. Not men: women. Women are more cunning, more adept at enduring pain and panic, and more psychically attuned to dread. I may be crazy, but I think horror films will inspire them to defend themselves harder when out there in the cold, cruel world.

 

 

WZP: What projects are you working on now?

JM: Billy and I are rolling out our latest short film, a riff on the sci-fi genre called Time Travelers. It’s our best film to date. We’ll be releasing details in the coming weeks. For a limited time, you can see a sneak peek here. The password is “coincidence.”

MS: I am the voice of Master Mantis (and other characters) on Nickelodeon’s “Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness”. I have made a short horror film and am working on the script for another one. I currently co-host The Cutting Room and host the long-standing, cult-hit podcast Max Koch and The Counselor’s Mimosa.

TH: We are currently getting ready to launch our own website this summer and, in even bigger news, Billy, Joe and I are about to begin a film project through the Horror Palace Network. It’s such an exciting idea because we are going to allow our fans to listen to the behind the scenes making of this film. They will also have a chance to make some decisions concerning the project, starting with which film we will make! The fans will be a big part of the process! In a sense, they will be making a horror film, too.
JM: [And,] once we get going we’re going to report all the developments of the film as they happen: a production diary that’s more or less in real time. So if we fail, you’ll hear our misery and struggle and desperation. If we succeed, we’ll triumph together. There’s danger in this, and that is a key ingredient for making something vital. It’s experimental podcasting and experimental filmmaking crashing into one another. I couldn’t be more excited—I live for it.

 

 

WZP: Do you have any advice for future podcasters?

JM: Don’t do it—we hate competition.

Seriously, the best bet is to be as professional as possible while still allowing for creativity and play. That means being very, dare I say, corporate about scheduling, objectives, expectations, formatting, and communication in planning the show, and yet completely unstructured, improvisational, and unrestricted while actually doing it. It’s a tightrope walk, but so far it’s been effective for us.

TH: Simple…be yourself. If you work hard and take yourself and your show seriously, the possibilities are limitless.

MS: Be interesting. Be yourself. And if you don’t have a point of view to share once in a while, it’s OK. Ask questions and LISTEN. Phumpher through it and rely on your co-hosts to bail you out. I’ve been podcasting for about six years now, and I ALWAYS admit when I’m an idiot.

JM: Most importantly though, realize that, before you even start, if the show is going to be any good, it’s a ton of work. Two tons.

 

WZP: Is there anything else you’d like librarians and fans of the horror genre to know?

JM: We hope that this start of a beautiful friendship.

MS: Scary is OKAY.

TH: Yes: keep finding ways to get young people to take interest in reading and watching films. This is very important, and my biggest fear is that someday a good book or a good film will no longer get written or made. Reading books and watching films changed my life for the better in so many ways it would take me days to talk about. Let’s just keep the passion for them both burning until the end of time. Ciao.