Welcome to HorrorFest 2009.
You can blame Belfast, Danny McBride, and Universal Studios for the fact that I've gotten off schedule on this one. I was doing just fine at Fantastic Fest, but this week's travel has well and truly screwed with my system, and I am barely able to tell up from down at this particular point in time.
When I am back in LA, I will be working to catch up and make sure that at the end of this month, there are 31 entries in this year's HorrorFest for you to enjoy. I've got at least the first 14 planned out already, and notes are made, and reviews are in progress. Some of them are films I saw at Fantastic Fest. Some are new BluRays or DVDs that have been sent for review. And towards the end of the month, I'll bust out a few classics that I don't feel get their fair due, and we'll discuss those, too.
Today, though, I am inspired both by the recent BluRay release and by yesterday's tourist drive through the lovely green hills of Northern Ireland to write about one of my all-time favorite horror films, a movie that I have somehow avoided writing about for the last 14 years I've been online. Crazy.
Maybe it's because I've been a fan of the film for so long that it feels like a given to me, something so fundamental that explaining it is pointless. But that's lazy thinking on my part. The movie is 28 years old at this point, older than some of you reading this. So why not take advantage of the moment and this particular series of articles to finally put down some of my thoughts about the film?
[more after the jump]