British Horror Cinema investigates a wealth of horror filmmaking in Britain, from early chillers like The Ghoul and Dark Eyes of London to acknowledged classics such as Peeping Tom and The Wicker Man. Contributors explore the contexts in which British horror films have been censored and classified, judged by their critics and consumed by their fans. Uncovering neglected modern classics like Deathline, and addressing issues such as the representation of family and women, they consider the Britishness of British horror and examine sub-genres such as the psycho-thriller and witchcraftmovies, the work of the Amicus studio, and key filmmakers including Peter Walker. Chapters include: the 'Psycho Thriller' the British censors and horror cinema femininity and horror film fandom witchcraft and the occult in British horror Horrific films and 1930s British Cinema Peter Walker and Gothic revisionism. Also featuring a comprehensive filmography and interviews with key directors Clive Barker and Doug Bradley, this is one resource film studies students should not be without.
As an intervention in conversations on transnationalism, film culture and genre theory, this book theorises transnational genre hybridity – combining tropes from foreign and domestic genres – as a way to think about films through a global and local framework. Taking the British horror resurgence of the 2000s as case study, genre studies are here combined with close formal analysis to argue that embracing transnational genre hybridity enabled the boom; starting in 2002, the resurgence saw British horror film production outpace the golden age of British horror. Yet, resurgence films like 28 Days Later and Shaun of the Dead had to reckon with horror’s vilified status in the UK, a continuation of attitudes perpetuated by middle-brow film critics who coded horror as dangerous and Americanised. Moving beyond British cinema studies’ focus on the national, this book also presents a fresh take on long-standing issues in British cinema, including genre and film culture.
Combining industrial research and primary interview material with detailed textual analysis, Contemporary British Horror Cinema looks beyond the dominant paradigms which have explained away British horror in the past, and sheds light on one of the most dynamic and distinctive "e; yet scarcely talked about "e; areas of contemporary British film production. Considering high-profile theatrical releases, including The Descent, Shaun of the Dead and The Woman in Black, as well as more obscure films such as The Devil's Chair, Resurrecting the Street Walker and Cherry Tree Lane, Contemporary British Horror Cinema provides a thorough examination of British horror film production in the twenty-first century.
The British horror film is almost as old as cinema itself. 'English Gothic' traces the rise and fall of the genre from its 19th century beginnings, encompassing the lost films of the silent era, the Karloff and Lugosi chillers of the 1930s, the lurid Hammer classics, and the explicit shockers of the 1970s.
Documenting the heyday of independent horror film,production in Britain, 'ten Years of Terror' is an,encyclopaedic record of this era featuring a,stunning selection of film stills and truly great,promotional artwork. Films covered include: 'the,Wicker Man', 'A Clockwork Orange', 'the Devils','Countess Dracula', 'Alien', 'the Omen', 'Killer's,Moon', 'the Rocky Horror Picture Show', 'tales,From the Crypt', 'Frankenstein and the Monster,from Hell' and more! With 48 full-colour pages.,'Gruesomely beautiful and frighteningly good!' -,Hotdog (Book of the Month)
WE HAVE SUCH SIGHTS TO SHOW YOU! With British cinema at its lowest ebb--audience levels dwindling, attacks from censors and authorities, cuts in funding--could this once-proud area of the entertainment business be saved? "Dead or Alive" is the first book-length study of British Horror Cinema of the 1980s, examining and celebrating the diversity of genre movie production in the U.K. during this period of flux. From Pinhead to the American Werewolf, from naked alien space vampires to Kenny Everett, read how the post-Hammer scene ventured to keep the fright flame burning in Thatcher's Britain. Rumor has it that the 1980s rather dismissed doom and gloom in favor of bright primary colors, sculpted hairstyles, MTV, legwarmers, compact discs, and John Hughes. Bear in mind, however, that British television at the outset of the period in question was awash with supernatural and psychological chills, from Hammer House of Horror to Rentaghost, Sapphire & Steel to Tales of the Unexpected. In the music world, every Duran Duran or Spandau Ballet was countered by acts daring to delve into darker territory --Siouxsie and the Banshees' 1981 album Juju was laced with voodoo, specters, and arcane practices; Iron Maiden frequently used classic horror references and created their own monstrous mascot, skeletal super-fan "Eddie," the "Goth" movement made inroads particularly in the North of England, via The Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus, The March Violets and Fields of the Nephilim, and even the top-selling, radio-friendly stars of the day took genre-sprinkled items to the top of the charts (the austere, bleak "Ghost Town" by The Specials, Frankie Goes to Hollywood's controversial and aware nuclear warning "Two Tribes," even Adam and the Ants' smash-hit paean to dandyism "Stand and Deliver)." With unemployment and oppression rife among certain areas of the country and within particular communities, the looming presence of something sinister tainted the official picture being presented by the authorities, of opportunity for all, jam tomorrow, loadsamoney. (Although perhaps American filmmaker Oliver Stone fused it better than anyone, bringing an altogether Faustian/Mephistophelean quality to his 1988 study of stock exchange culture, Wall Street, the "greed is good" ethos of which may just have been the most frightening movie mantra of these divisive times.) So, enjoy a trip back to the 1980s quite unlike any other, an alternate vision of the era. With the classic manufacturers of big-screen British chills, Hammer, Amicus, Tigon and others, lying dormant or completely out of action, a new, diverse, unconnected and decidedly different wave rode in to fill the gap. Not always successfully, sure, but (especially in hindsight) with considerable ambition to bring something fresh and unique to the terror table. This book is for those who prefer the challenge of the Lament Configuration to that of Rubik's Cube.
British Horror Cinema investigates a wealth of horror filmmaking in Britain, from early chillers like The Ghoul and Dark Eyes of London to acknowledged classics such as Peeping Tom and The Wicker Man. Contributors explore the contexts in which British horror films have been censored and classified, judged by their critics and consumed by their fans. Uncovering neglected modern classics like Deathline, and addressing issues such as the representation of family and women, they consider the Britishness of British horror and examine sub-genres such as the psycho-thriller and witchcraftmovies, the work of the Amicus studio, and key filmmakers including Peter Walker. Chapters include: the 'Psycho Thriller' the British censors and horror cinema femininity and horror film fandom witchcraft and the occult in British horror Horrific films and 1930s British Cinema Peter Walker and Gothic revisionism. Also featuring a comprehensive filmography and interviews with key directors Clive Barker and Doug Bradley, this is one resource film studies students should not be without.
When you think of British horror films, you might picture the classic Hammer Horror movies, with Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, and blood in lurid technicolor. Yet British horror has undergone an astonishing change and resurgence in the twenty-first century, with films that capture instead the anxieties of post-Millennial viewers. Tracking the revitalization of the British horror film industry over the past two decades, media expert Steven Gerrard also investigates why audiences have flocked to these movies. To answer that question, he focuses on three major trends: “hoodie horror” movies responding to fears about Britain’s urban youth culture; “great outdoors” films where Britain’s forests, caves, and coasts comprise a terrifying psychogeography; and psychological horror movies in which the monster already lurks within us. Offering in-depth analysis of numerous films, including The Descent, Outpost, and The Woman in Black, this book takes readers on a lively tour of the genre’s highlights, while provocatively exploring how these films reflect viewers’ gravest fears about the state of the nation. Whether you are a horror buff, an Anglophile, or an Anglophobe, The Modern British Horror Film is sure to be a thrilling read.
