Subtitle: how classism and cultural tourism will get you killed.

I love how 80s horror has this deep vein of ‘you’re a horrible person, middle America, and deserve everything you get’. A group of young adults heads into the back country to go to the lake, and on the way finds this quaint little town of the poorest of the poor. Taunted with the story of Pumpkinhead (but no explanation) they manage to kill a child. And of course since no one cares about poor kids, all hell breaks out. A deliberate choice of words, there.

I love the way that this film looks. Sitting somewhere between fairy tale and The Hills Have Eyes, there’s a fuzzy dreamlike yellowness  to each shot that I’ve really started to like in the last year or so. In some scenes it starts to look like classic versions of Dracula or Frankenstein with the stereotypical Transylvanian fog.

I suppose that I should be upset about the method through which the titular villain comes into being-but if we can’t embrace our darkness then we’re only sort of half developed. And frankly, no one comes out smelling clean and fresh in a horror film.


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