Aliens, space horror and growing up Evangelical

original art from MOTHERSHIP

"I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure."  

Aliens came out 40 years ago this week and I thought I should talk about it.

When I was growing up my mom kept an extremely close watch on what kind of media I consumed. Cartoon ghosts were condemned as demonic. Fantasy magic was devil worship. Sitcoms where the characters had extramarital sex were deemed harmful to my moral fabric. Even the Archie comics I collected were, for a while, the Al Hartley Christian comics because that's all my mother would let me read. I had been exposed to horror themes as a child, largely through gaps in my mother's surveillance: the odd ghost story here, playing Doom in my neighbor's basement there. But after my parents' divorce, my mom started paying a little less attention, and was a little more lax in what she was willing to let me read or watch or play; in that space I was able to cultivate a great love for horror that has lasted to this day.

The unbearable arrogance of elevated horror (Or: What CinemaSins Does to a MF)

In the absence of Content for the Content Mill I'm dredging up one of my blog post rants from the Medium era, of which I had a scant few. So what you're about to read is about a year old, but I was reminded of it because it's an ongoing complaint. I've edited it a little but it's otherwise unchanged. - June

god, this fucking bullshit movie pissed me off

Have you ever seen the remake of Suspiria? I’m a big fan of the original — it was bright, and colorful, and full of music, and quite intense and surreal; in short, the perfect late 1970s horror film. The sort of platonic ideal of the genre, if you will. The remake, meanwhile, was none of that, and as it careened towards its long-overdue finale I tried to figure out what about the film was bothering me. As I sat through the credits, I figured it out: it was basically an Ari Aster film without Ari Aster, and much like his actual films I initially felt really ambivalent about it. Ultimately, the strongest feeling I had watching it was a cementing of my dislike of “elevated horror,” both as a label and as a movement, and my finally being able to put to words what it is, exactly, that I can’t stand about it: it’s basically a rebranding of arthouse horror cinema, but slathered in money and metaphor to hide the fact that most of these movies aren’t meaningfully “smarter” than other horror movies. Finally, I came around to the inevitable conclusion: I fucking hated Suspiria (2018) and everything it stood for.