Well-Adjusted Horror

This week's topic is Saint Maud (2019), and the boys have nothing but praise. It's a feast of religious mania, horribly awkward eroticism, and the best final second of any movie in recent memory. When William Blake's paintings show up in a horror movie, you know things are about to go south in a hurry.

Watch Saint Maud on Amazon Prime.

This week the boys try a deep dive on Sam Raimi's Drag Me to Hell (2009) but quickly bang their heads on the shallow end of the pool. An effort to avoid cursing leads to mixed results (and a lot of bleeps). As always, they have questions. Is proportionality required for a movie to qualify as a morality play?  Can horror movies use the trope of supernaturalism in other cultures as a source of mystique without being demeaning? Would Justin Long want to be Johnathon and Levi's best friend?

This one gets awkward in a hurry. This week the boys start with The Beast Within (1982) but quickly take a detour to the horrors of puberty. Topics discussed: the stark difference between depictions of violence in the recent past versus modern day, nostalgia's role in determining what we love, the use of birth control in special effects, and Levi's love for The Magnolia State.

Is there a better horror / science fiction crossover than Ridley Scott's Alien? The boys don't think so.  This week they're joined by two special guests to discuss the making of a masterpiece, why prequels almost always suck, and the wonder that is Sigourney Weaver. 

If you find yourself in the mood for a perfect cocktail to accompany your listening, check out this special episode from Griffith Goods and Spirits. They don't call it the chest burster for nothing.

If you think Godzilla's legacy is nothing more than silly movies featuring men in rubber suits stomping on model trains, then this week's episode is for you. An examination of 1954's Gojira finds the boys exploring some unexpectedly dark ruminations on technology and history — and humanity's tendency to get confused about both. 

Levi defends Godzilla's place as the most iconic of all movie monsters, while Johnathon wonders if and when we'll ever account for all the losses of the COVID years. 

Also, don't miss the new theme song in the intro. Long live the banjo.

Corn fields are creepy, and little kids are creepier still. The boys try to understand why short stories make better movie adaptations than novels. Levi shares his exhaustive list of horror shorts, and Johnathon confesses why dogs creep him out when they poop. 

Also, whatever you do, don't get a degree in the humanities. 

Levi's list of recommended horror stories:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XBQmakZnZC8fdTrYos6AQOMEWP4y5umQN5HzZpGCnj4/edit?usp=sharing

This week the boys crush on Sam Neil and discuss what makes a good pseudonym, all while covering the third movie in John Carpenter's Apocalypse Trilogy, In the Mouth of Madness (1994). Levi defends the art of the downer ending in horror films. Johnathon throws some side eye at eco nihilism and fashionable misanthropy. And there's a healthy side tangent on everyone's favorite Carpathian from the Ghost Busters franchise.

This week finds the boys arguing over definitions, specifically the definition of a B movie. What makes a B movie? Is it the cast? The budget? Does our movie this week qualify? Levi says yes, while Johnathon isn't so sure. Everyone loves a lost colony mystery, which leads to a brief discussion of the Roanoke investigation. Trigger warning: sports metaphors.

What do you get when you combine xenophobia, an unrelenting atmosphere of dread, and fish people? An HP Lovecraft story, that’s what. This week the boys tackle Johnathon’s favorite Lovecraft adaptation for the screen, 1991’s Dagon. Levi doesn't want to cloud the episode with Lovecraft's personal life, so of course Johnathon brings it up immediately. Also, tentacles. 

This week's movie is a litmus test for fans of horror. The House That Jack Built is a characteristically bitter piece of visual candy from Lars Von Trier, and oh do the boys have questions. Is interpreting art through the identity of the artist valid criticism or fashionable nonsense? Should viewers care whether artists are virtuous people? Are serial killers interesting? And is it okay to laugh while cringing?