10.24.2007

The Witch Is Back

I'm through apologizing for lack of updates. Y'all know I'm crazy busy. Like, here are three reviews I wrote recently - the year's best metal album (so far), a shitty movie and a decent play. See, I'm doin' stuff.

Last year, I gave you not one, but two playlists full of Xmas music, all the while insisting that the holiday does nothing for me. October 31 is more my style. It's all about monsters, moonlight, mischief and marshmallows, stuff I generally like. I have this effed-up jack-o'-lantern tattoo on my shoulder, and the band is only half the reason.

So, for 2007, I address that discrepancy with what I hope will become an annual feature: a Halloween playlist! I tried not to make it too obvious, like one of those CD compilations you find between the rubber rats and the plastic tombstones at Party City. No "Monster Mash" or "Werewolves of London" here. I have instead loaded up on horror movie music. You'll find tunes inspired by creature features as well as lots of tracks from scores or soundtracks, even a few covers of such. This isn't exclusive, though, and I tried to balance the genuinely spooky stuff with some fearsome fun, in the true spirit of the holiday. Listen and enjoy. Please do me a favor and celebrate somehow this year. Anyone who tells you they've outgrown Halloween is a shriveled old chump.

1. Budy-Maglione, "Cannibal Ferox" (Cannibal Ferox, 1981) - I chose to lead off with one of the coolest pieces of horror movie music ever. This cue is only a minute long, but anyone who's seen "Cannibal Ferox," easily the best horror movie Italian hack Umberto Lenzi ever lensed, will find it hard to forget. Like a lot of Italian scores of its time, the "Ferox" music by the writing team of Roberto Donati and Fiamma Maglione is a strange mix of funky disco, fluffy pop cheese and Goblin-inspired haunted house prog. This main theme is the most effective in conveying our protagonists' doom, as they stare down sun-baked torture and death at the hands of wronged jungle natives. It even works in the trailer (NOT safe for work). By all means, only hardened gorehounds should subject themselves to "Ferox," as it is widely acknowledged that it's inferior to Ruggero Deodato's insane "Cannibal Holocaust" - it's got all the Grand Guignol crudities, but none of the genuine evil. Here, watch this brilliant parody.

2. Rob Zombie with The Ghastly Ones, "Halloween (She Get So Mean)" (Halloween Hootenanny, 1998) - My favorite song Rob's done since White Zombie broke up, this rarity is on a bad-ass CD that came out on his short-lived Zombie A Go-Go! vanity label. Halloween Hootenanny compiles Halloween/horror-themed tunes by a bunch of surf/rockabilly/trash/garage rock bands including The Reverend Horton Heat, Los Straitjackets, Rocket from the Crypt and Southern Culture on the Skids. Yes, it's as fun as it sounds, and totally worth searching for if you'd like a real swingin' Samhain. Zombie's infamous drone is backed on this track by The Ghastly Ones, a cool California gang of ghouls named after one of Andy Milligan's finest films. I wish he'd continued to make music that sounded like this.

3. Fantômas, "Rosemary's Baby" (The Director's Cut, 2001) - Roman Polanski's most famous horror film was not his only one, but it's as disturbing as the astounding "Repulsion." Complementing the pristine visuals, Polish composer Krzysztof Komeda's score, with its creepy lullaby main theme, stands as a highlight of American horror movie music. Here's a take on the theme by Fantômas, the experimental supergroup consisting of ex-Faith No More vocalist Mike Patton, ex-Mr. Bungle bassist Trevor Dunn, Melvins guitarist Buzz Osborne and Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo. It's from their second and probably most accessible album, which consists of film score covers by the likes of Angelo Badalamenti, Jerry Goldsmith and Henry Mancini. Of course, they tweak things a bit.

4. Gravediggaz, "Diary of a Madman" (6 Feet Deep, 1994) - Horrorcore was a promising but ultimately disappointing hip-hop subgenre. Most of its practitioners were too subtle or too garish, and at this point it's degenerated into a sub-Juggalo parade of cartoon bullshit. As far as I'm concerned, the only horrorcore records worth owning are Kool Keith's one-off as Dr. Dooom and the debut by legendary producer/rapper Prince Paul's Gravediggaz. Both include a lot of spooky piano samples and violent lyrics, although Gravediggaz were ultimately more serious in their approach. Along with Prince Paul, going by the alter ego The Undertaker, the MCs included Wu-Tang Clan's RZA (aka RZArecta), Stetsasonic's Frukwan (aka The Gatekeeper) and the late Too Poetic (aka The Grym Reaper). A lot of their rhymes contain Five Percent Nation references, which became more pronounced on their two subsequent albums, but early on they did more tracks like this one, concentrating on real-life horrors as a form of social commentary. Just like Slayer!

5. Misfits, "Bruiser" (Cuts from the Crypt, 2001) - I am not in the camp who thinks the "resurrected" Misfits of the late '90s sucked. In fact, I loved them. They took the Ramones-for-monster-movie-fans approach of the band's Walk Among Us era and jacked it up with metal production and a more versatile singer. Sure, Glenn Danzig was great in his day, but by the time Jerry Only and his brother Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein were back swinging their devilocks, the "Evil Elvis" was a horrific self-parody who wanted to be Trent Reznor, or at least wanted to pull the kind of hot goth trim that Trent did. Although he was a very inconsistent live frontman, Michale Graves has a good throat - better than Jerry's, which has unfortunately hollered 'fits classics ever since Graves definitively split in Y2K. This is one of the final tracks to surface from the Graves years, recorded as the theme song for one of George Romero's weakest movies, in which the band also made a cameo. I do hope that whenever Jerry gets off his ass and puts a new album out, the songs are still good, but that hope grows slimmer by the year.

6. Lon Chaney Jr., "Main Title" (Not of This Earth! The Film Music of Ronald Stein, 1995) - A little history for you non-horror buffs: Lon Chaney Jr. was the son of the famed "Man of a Thousand Faces," Lon Chaney. His dad was an extremely influential innovator in screen make-up, as well as a beloved silent movie actor. Lon Jr. starred in "The Wolf Man," and was best known for that role since he played it in a bunch of Universal's subsequent monster mash-ups. He did a lot of other horror flicks and westerns, but by the end of his career, he was in bad shape, sweating through cheap Mexican monster flicks that were chopped up and mashed together for American distribution by the infamous Jerry Warren, sick and drinking too much. His last great role came in Jack Hill's awesome 1964 "Spider Baby, Or The Maddest Story Ever Told," an undervalued relic if there ever was one. Lon Jr. plays the cheerful chauffeur of a family cursed with a disease that makes them regress as they age, and he gives the otherwise bizarre and macabre film a sweet heart. It's also got Quentin Tarantino/Rob Zombie favorite Sig Haig as the oldest, thus most fucked-up, kid. Lon Jr. growls this groovy theme song, written by the guy who scored "Dementia 13." Put "Spider Baby" at the top of your Netflix list if you want to watch a neat little cult shocker this Halloween.

7. The World/Inferno Friendship Society, "Pumpkin Time" (East Coast Super Sound Punk of Today!, 2000) - The cultish Brooklyn "punk cabaret" act known as The World/Inferno Friendship Society is a shitload of fun on record, but I have never seen them live, which is a shame. They're one of those bands that has a zillion members, yet often sound somewhat subdued on recordings. Musically, there's a little swing, klezmer, pop, new wave and, well, punk cabaret. They have fun with social critiques, often putting a modern anarchist slant on historical figures and movements. Then there's their new album, a concept piece based on the life of Peter Lorre. This funky gospel rave-up is most easily found on the zesty singles collection linked above. It's their ode to "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown," and is exclusively performed at their annual Hallowmas concert.

8. Morte Macabre, "Apoteosi del Mistero" (Symphonic Holocaust, 2001) - Symphonic Holocaust is an odd CD, consisting mainly of instrumental music from Italian horror films as covered by dudes from Swedish prog rock bands Anekdoten and Landberk. Yes, right up my alley. These guys really evoke the feeling of the post-Goblin spaghetti splatter era, from the loping bass lines to the eerie keyboards. The album makes a good argument for why this stuff should be listened to as music on its own merit, rather than as something to accompany grotesque moving images. The track at hand was composed by the immortal Fabio Frizzi, and is taken from his underrated score to Lucio Fulci's "Paura Nella Città dei Morti Viventi," aka "City of the Living Dead," aka "The Gates of Hell," aka one of my favorite Fulci pictures.

9. Rose and the Arrangement, "The Cockroach That Ate Cincinnati" (Totally Bananas, 1981) - Oh, the entire Dr. Demento Halloween playlist could substitute for part of this list, but there's too much other good stuff. Instead, I will simply include this annual favorite of the Good Doctor, which I was surprised to learn is only 26 years old. Considering the references to "Willard" and "Ben," I always thought this was a '70s relic. Anyway, Rose and the Arrangement are best known for this campy ode to horror cinema, which asserts that all fright flicks pale in comparison to the fictitious title feature. The internet tells me they later recorded a sequel with a Latin twist, "The Cockroach That Ate Tijuana." The sample I heard is not as good as I just made it sound. Stick with the "Cinci" version.

1o. Cathedral, "Spoken Intro/Hopkins (The Witchfinder General)" (Hopkins (The Witchfinder General), 1996) - Heavy metal songs about horror subjects are a dime a dozen, going all the way back to the genre's unwitting originators, who named themselves after a Mario Bava omnibus. I could feasibly have done this whole list with metal songs about witches and demons and whatnot, but where's the creativity in that? Besides, I'll bet no one listened to the awesome death metal bonanza that was previously streaming here, so I'll just pull out a coupla great examples for you. The long-running Cathedral, fronted by early Napalm Death vocalist and beloved doom metal loony Lee Dorrian, recorded this tribute to the Vincent Price cheapie known in America as "The Conqueror Worm" at a time the band was edging away from doom toward stoner rock. As such, it's still got those deep Sabbath guitar tones, but a bouncier step. This version, from the extra-weird EP of the same name, has a longer intro sampled from the film's trailer. Check out the hilarious video... dancing girls? It's like Earache Records thought the lovably ugly Brits were gonna get on the Monster Magnet gravy train or something.

11. Goblin, "Suspiria" (Suspiria, 1977) - OK, I could hold out no longer. Here is the main theme music from my favorite horror movie. I will not say it is the best example of the genre ever constructed, but it's the last one I can remember genuinely scaring - not startling or grossing out - me. Written by Daria Nicolodi and directed by Dario Argento, the parents of sexy Eurotrash starlet Asia Argento, "Suspiria" is the story of the chick who replaced Susan Sarandon as Janet in the "Rocky Horror" sequel, who goes to an elite dance academy in Germany that has fancy velvet on the walls and a coven of murderous witches hiding behind them. The movie itself is ludicrous, but the presentation is unparalled. The legendary soundtrack by Italian prog rockers Goblin (in collaboration with ELP/Genesis buff Dario) makes the hallucinatory onscreen onslaught of colors and textures seem alive and dangerous. Everything feels like it's going to kill someone. I'm sure if I saw "Suspiria" for the first time last week, it wouldn't have as powerful an effect as it did when I was 16, but I'd still love it. Especially the soundtrack.

12. Hot Blood, "Soul Dracula" (Disco Dracula, 1977) - Contrary to what you might guess, I have no hate for disco. I was raised on it (thanks mom!), and compared to the dance music of the '80s, it's way classier, funkier and meatier. At least there were real drums, right? Disco was famously applied to everything, from Christmas tunes to Alice Cooper, and of course there were a few horror-themed disco records. Speaking of Alice, there's a TV performance of the song at hand that looks like something from his "Welcome to My Nightmare" TV special. Let me tell you, I have heard Hot Blood's Disco Dracula in its entirety, and it's absolutely terrible. Not good bad, bad bad. I mean, it makes "Night on Disco Mountain" sound dignified. However, if you're looking to evoke the 1970s' polyester Frank Langella/George Hamilton/William Marshall vampire, this single by the German group is perfect.

13. Phish, "Wolfman's Brother" (Hoist, 1994) - Also contrary to popular belief, I have no hate for jam rock, either. I've actually warmed to it a lot this year as I happened to fall in love with a onetime Deadhead/Phish Phan. However, although this song was included due to my Sassy Frassy Lassie's suggestion, I actually own the album it comes from; I had just forgotten the song titles. Seriously, it doesn't matter if you do drugs or find hacky sacks embarassing. Listen to enough and you'll realize that Phish was an eclectic and prodigious band that deserved the dedicated audience it amassed, even if many kids just showed up to get wasted and shake their asses like they were at a stupid fucking Dave Matthews show. And lest you think this song (and the band) are too upbeat to fit with the holiday theme, be aware that among Phish's many claims to fame, their annual Halloween blowouts were legendary, wherein the quartet would encore by performing some classic rock LP or other in its entirety. This "musical costume" is now a popular move by bands performing concerts on Halloween.

14. Franco Bixio, Fabio Frizzi and Vince Tempera, "7 Note" (Sette Note In Nero, 1977) - I think I was the only person in the theater who flipped out while watching "Kill Bill Vol. 1" and hearing this spooky little music box cue, one of many pieces of old film music Tarantino plucked for his revenge epic. It's from "Sette Note In Nero," aka "7 Notes In Black," aka "The Psychic." This is one of Lucio Fulci's better-known non-gore pictures, a relatively tame murder mystery in the classic Italian giallo tradition. I have only seen the old, edited U.S. videotape release, so I can't give you a true indication of the film's worth, but of the Fulci giallos I've seen, I'd recommend the curiously titled "Don't Torture a Duckling" over this. The music, though, is superior here. Careful readers will notice that this is the second Frizzi-penned selection on this list, but the first that's the actual film version. Yes, I figured that this way I could include Fabio twice, and neither piece is from his most famous work. You know how we do.

15. The Gravetones, "Devil's Rain" (Dig It!, 2006) - Local representatives of the ever-popular horror punk scene, The Gravetones have one foot in the Misfits' bracing sing-alongs and the other in the milieu of trash rock ghouls The Cramps, with some Damned/45 Grave goth-punk leanings dangling in between. Their debut record from last year isn't Earth-shattering, but it's a lot of fun if you like this sort of thing. This, the last track on the album, is pure Misfits worship, but I don't have a problem with that, especially since it's about one of the great cinematic horror cheesefests of the 1970s. If for some reason you've never seen "The Devil's Rain," know that it stars William Shatner as a flannel-clad dude who teams up with Eddie Albert and Tom Skerritt to fight off a gang of Satan worhippers. These are led by Ernest Borgnine, and their ranks include famed Scientologist John Travolta. All the bad guys melt at the end. Anton LaVey himself advised the filmmakers on its Satanic content. It's rated PG, but that doesn't matter. It's easy to find and hilarious in all the right places. The bland trailer does it little justice.

16. The Count, "Transylvania Polka" (Counting to Ten/The Transylvania Polka, 1977) - At the end of Sesame Street, atop a mountain so steep only bats dare ascend its peak, stands the castle of Count von Count. His family has owned the fortress for countless generations, yet the goateed and nearly bankrupt Count is the last of his royally fucked bloodline. Thanks to the aristocracy's penchant for inbreeding, he's nearly blind in his left eye. His skin is an unhealthy purple, the effect of not enough sun and too much moldy incense. Most glaringly, he's afflicted with acute arithmomania. Yes, there are many interpretations of what the "Sesame Street" gang are really about - from Bert and Ernie being a gay couple (I prefer to think of them as two orphans squatting in an abandoned apartment) to Cookie Monster being a commentary on gluttony, suffering a Tantalus-style punishment where insatiable hunger is tormented by a sewn-shut gullet. I like my sweetly retarded interpretation of The Count, and that's the guy I picture warbling this ode to the famous Romanian region, not Jerry Nelson with his hand up a puppet's ass. I mean, which is more disturbing?

17. Jay Chattaway, "A Little Knife Music" (Maniac, 1980) - Slasher movies are not really my thing. In general, they're as formulaic and engaging as '90s porn. The best any of them offer, including the more famous franchises, is the occasional creative special effect during a death scene or an unintentionally hilarious plot. William Lustig, the man who gave us the "Maniac Cop" trilogy, was responsible for a rare exception. "Maniac" isn't that much more violent than your average post-"Halloween" slasher, although its gore was designed by the now-unthinkable duo of Rob Bottin and Tom Savini. The difference in "Maniac" is that it's mainly told from the point of view of the killer, played brilliantly by Joe Spinell as a seedy sad sack loner who scalps women and hangs their hair on mannequins to get back at his abusive mom. It's cheap, thoroughly unsettling and full of spine-tinglingly minimal musical cues such as the one at hand, which augment the murder scenes like you wouldn't believe. About the only thing not grimy about the movie is ever-stunning heroine Caroline Munro. If you're in the mood for non-supernatural horror that will make you want to shower, try "Maniac."

18. Dr. Dre feat. Hittman and Ms. Roq, "Murder Ink" (2001, 1999) - It's been eight fucking years since Dr. Dre put out an album of his own. Do you have any idea how old that makes me feel? Do you have any idea how old that makes Dre? Not to mention Hittman and Ms. Roq, the stars of this cut from Dre's belated sequel to the G-funk cornerstone The Chronic. How old are they, and did their appearance on this disc help pay some bills? They certainly never became the household names that then-emerging 2001 participants Eminem and Xzibit did. Their rhymes here are actually fine, detailing the process and mindset of professional killers. Roq's competent, hard-ass lady sniper is one of few females portrayed semi-positively on the disc. However, the reason we are hearing this tune rather than a thousand other violent hip-hop tunes is Dre's awesome production, which puts the rappers through spectral walkie-talkies and repurposes John Carpenter's theme from "Halloween" to chilling effect.

19. Iced Earth, "Dracula" (Horror Show, 2001) - Again, heavy metal songs about horror subjects are nothing unusual, but we can't just ignore them all. This song is from a concept album about classic monsters, apparently a favorite subject of Iced Earth guitarist Jon Schaffer back in his demo days. For the unfamiliar, Iced Earth has been Schaffer's baby since he began the band as Purgatory back in the '80s. Plying a solid mix of traditional melodic metal and energetic thrash no matter the trend of the time, Schaffer's gone through a million band members as Iced Earth made the journey from criminally overlooked to grossly overrated. Horror Show features perhaps the best line-up he's assembled to date, with classic vocalist Matthew Barlow still in the fold and the final rhythm section of Chuck Schuldiner's Death, bassist Steve DiGiorgio and drummer Richard Christy, bumping up the technical aspect. Their take on the Drac myth was obviously inspired by the Coppola version, as lyrics focus on the doomed romance and inner torment of the fanged fiend.

20. Danny Elfman, "End Credits" (Nightbreed, 1990) - Here's music from a final overlooked horror picture, Clive Barker's second directorial effort. "Nightbreed" is definitely dated, but it's worth revisiting. Barker adapted it from his own novella "Cabal," the story of a troubled guy who discovers his inner monster and goes to live in Midian, a subterranean realm for creatures like himself. The beasts must band together when they are assaulted by the forces of state and church, leading to an all-out monster war. My man David Cronenberg plays the mulleted hero's murderous psychologist, and he is far scarier than any of the elaborate make-up designs seen in the film. The monsters of Midian are intentionally sympathetic and the typical "good" guys are a menace, which is what makes it an appropriate Halloween selection. You can also read a pretty plain subtext in there, wherein Clive reveals his frustration with persecution of the homosexual community. While the score is not one of Elfman's most famous ones, it's one of my favorites. Selections such as this concluding suite are perfect for a grand-scale horror epic, loaded with the ethereal children's choirs, brooding brass and dreamy harps that made his name. It sounds like 24 hours of Halloween packed into four and a half minutes.

1 Comments:

Blogger SoulReaper said...

Between the Buried and Me, Colors (Victory)

The most impressive metal album of the year comes from a bunch of short-haired dudes with a strange band name. Yes, there are elements of "-core" in Between the Buried and Me's sound, but put aside any prejudice. The North Carolina quintet operates way above most metalcore acts. While the savage cornucopias of 2005's Alaska showcased BtBaM at their then-best, Colors surpasses it.

All the band's trademarks (pummeling deathcore, triumphant harmonies, mathy prog wizardry, dreamy shoegazer pop and copious curveballs) are here, yet the fluid flow of ideas exceeds expectations. The tracks are sequenced without breaks, which is fine. Although moments like the Arabian intro of "Informal Gluttony" or the creepy accordion waltz that intrudes upon "Prequel to the Sequel" stand out, Colors is best experienced as if it were one long song.

Tommy Rogers is the rare modern metal vocalist who delivers harsh roars as convincingly as he does blissful Beatlesque harmonies. Guitarists Paul Waggoner and Dusty Waring (also of Glass Casket) put on a masterful clinic that should send all these goofy new spazzcore acts back to their parents' basements, alternately fierce, jazzy, jubilant and even playful.

The album's centerpiece is a pair of tracks both topping ten minutes. "Sun of Nothing" relaxes for a while with a segment of Floydian psychedelia, making a seamless transition to the grinding sprawl of "Ants of the Sun." Perhaps the best track here, the latter marries tough-guy thrash, starry-eyed ambience and even a brief hoedown complete with hollers and clinking glasses before a finale that stacks riff upon riff as a monument to towering melody.

With so many shades and textures to explore, Colors is never a chore despite demanding continuous attention for its 64 minutes. It's cliché to say, "get ready for a wild ride," but in Between the Buried and Me's case, that's not hyperbole, it's a gross understatement.

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"30 Days of Night" bites

TV ads claim "30 Days of Night" presents "a new vision of the vampire." Well, yes. Technically, these exact vampires have never been seen on the screen, although they manage to appear long in the tooth anyway.

The Caucasoid creatures who dress like extras from an old Marilyn Manson video are indeed vampires, but they may as well be "zombies," or however you'd classify the beasts from "28 Weeks Later." In fact, future audiences might rent "30 Days" because they've mistaken its title and crimson poster art for that of the superior "28 Days Later" sequel.

"30 Days of Night" is actually based on a 2002 comic book miniseries by Steve Niles, who co-wrote the screenplay. After viewing it, anyone unfamiliar with the title might wonder why the book was so revered. Without artist Ben Templesmith's stark, stylish images, Niles' is just another tale of Eurotrash monsters run amok.

The conceit here is that the bloodsuckers attack Barrow, an isolated Alaska town which, due to its northern location, experiences a month without sunlight every year. The town empties out ahead of time, but fire marshal Stella Oleson (Melissa George) is stranded in Barrow when the sun goes down. It's especially troubling for her because her estranged husband, Eben (a somnambulant Josh Hartnett), is Barrow's sheriff.

Of course, the rift in our lead couple's marriage isn't the only source of tension. First, a local man's dogs are slaughtered and drained of blood. Then a surly, meat-craving stranger (Ben Foster, Angel from "X-Men: The Last Stand") appears, naturally cackling and hollering warnings that "they're coming!" If this isn't enough, plenty of ominous music when nothing scary is happening reminds us that it might.

The film's strongest impression is made by the vampire leader, Marlow, (Danny Huston). He's prone to your typical speeches about how they are better than humans, but does this in a subtitled vampire language, even when addressing humans, as if Marlow thinks they can understand him. With enormous pupils and uncomfortable-looking prosthetic teeth, Huston glares and mumbles his way through the film like a beached piranha that wishes it was a Cenobite from "Hellraiser."

The initial vampire attack is capped with an overhead shot tracking their trail of carnage through the town, which would be more impressive if it wasn't so similar to one from the "Dawn of the Dead" remake. Pity the survivors, who have to hide out for several weeks, going through the familiar motions of zombie-style "infestation" flicks.

You know these. The "eek, what's happening?" scene. The "let's move somewhere safer" scene. The "you gotta kill me, I don't want to turn into one of those th-things" scene. The infighting is calamitous. The sacrifices are noble. The separated couple, forced to work together, gets over deep-seated marital troubles in the space of one stilted conversation.

Eben is slowed by his chronic asthma - which would have been a unique weakness for a hero, if only it affected him more than once - but the vamps' breathing is so noisy, they may suffer from the same condition. Rasping, snarling, wheezing, screaming... it's a good thing for these predators that they're fast and strong, because they can't plausibly sneak up on victims.

Honestly, if the vampires were serious about their goal of wiping out all of Barrow, wouldn't Marlow think to burn it down before day 29 of their sunless sojourn?

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"Horror Academy"
Babes With Blades Theatre Company @ North Lakeside Cultural Center
6219 N. Sheridan Road, Chicago
Through Nov. 4


"Horror Academy" doesn't seem like a typical Babes With Blades production. The company specializes in plays that celebrate the warrior woman archetype while offering plenty of chances for the actresses to show off their prowess in stage combat. In this anthology of horror stories, most of the struggles are verbal or hand-to-hand. However, its themes remain steeped in female comraderie, and what the play lacks in swordplay it makes up in tension.

As written by Darren Callahan of Chicago Dramatists, "Academy" is performed in the North Lakeside Cultural Center, a turn-of-the-century mansion located near Loyola University. The play's individual segments, three one-acts broken up by monologues, take place in different parts of the mansion, and the audience follows a black-robed guide to each. Both the intimate performances and the old building itself contribute to its seasonal thrills, as one feels like they're traversing the stairs of a haunted house as much as watching a play.

Callahan's main stories are neatly-contained portraits of mayhem. In the first, "Three Lines," we meet three sisters employed at a blood bank that is experiencing strange thefts from its stock. Next, health care workers in the remote South contend with surly, drum-beating locals who hunger for human flesh in "Everything's Different Here." Finally, "Where Is the Breakdown?" presents a young woman with a violent history who wakes up after a deadly accident, at a time when a mysterious malady has killed off all the planet's men.

Although they're not extremely gory (there is some blood but nothing too gruesome), these tales are best suited to adults. From the individual vignettes to the "Red Message" monologues, "Horror Academy" glimpses hurt, haunted women thrust into situations that evoke real-life horror despite the stories' fantastic elements. Babes With Blades capably conveys the crucial message of modern horror fiction: humans are their own worst enemies. After all, vampires, cannibals and zombies don't pose as much a threat as when these women turn on each other.

9:51 AM, October 24, 2007  

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