I was 13 when I saw I Spit On Your Grave the first time. Or maybe it was 14. It’s hard to remember which because that time of my life was a bit of a whirlwind and it’s been 20+ years since then, so of course my memory is slightly foggy when it comes to the finer details.
Nevertheless, seeing the film coincided with one of the first big changes in my life, which was getting my own room. For nearly a decade I’d been saddled with my little brother as a roommate, and as great as he could be, by the time I was 13 and 14, the last thing I wanted to do was share a room with a 9 year-old. No, what I wanted was a little privacy and finally, after work on some improvements in the basement of our house on McKinley Street came to an end, I had my own retreat. Continue reading
A week or so ago I was on the toilet reading an interview with Ti West in Filmmaker Magazine – the toilet is where I do all of my significant magazine reading, and I suspect I’m not alone in this – and was surprised to discover a filmmaker I’d never heard of on the cover of a magazine I had heard of. Feeling myself to be something of a movie connoisseur and like I’m generally plugged in to what’s happening in cinema, I was amazed how I’d overlooked this particular director, given his relative level of success, and also quite a bit shocked.
That I didn’t know who he was, though, is somewhat beside the point I want to make. My point revolves around some discussion in the interview of one of West’s earlier films, The House of the Devil, which intrigued me to the extent that I wanted to see it. Unfortunately, my local video store is basically a hollow shell of what it once was, and perusing the contents of the Redbox online, I could see there was no copy of this film for rent anywhere within the boxes within fifty miles of my house – not that I’d ever go that far to rent it – so I was basically sitting on a thirst for a film that my rental options could not quench. Continue reading
When I was a young man – no, not even a young man, a boy, really – a certain type of film appealed to me. Like most other boys my age I had no interest in earnest dramas about families or relationships or anything that had to do with feelings, unless the feeling was fright. Not surprisingly, my taste, like many of my contemporaries, ran to horror.