I love horror movies. I remember Channel 10 used to show one every Saturday night at midnight. I would wait til my parents went to bed, then sneak down to the lounge room and watch them with the volume way down (so no one would hear). My face was so close to the screen I could have been the video cover of Poltergeist. I am sure they knew what I was doing.
I was only 13. Don’t try this at home.
Halloween (John Carpenter, the 1970s)
Little Michael Myers killed his big sister when he was six with a kitchen knife. Fifteen years later he’s escaped the psychiatric ward and wants to come home for his little sister. He doesn’t want a hug.
Friday the 13th (Sean Cunningham, the 1980s)
Camp councillors have sex, take drugs and drink at Camp Crystal lake where a little boy drowned years earlier due to camp councillor negligence. Hilarity ensues.
A Nightmare on Elm Street (Wes Craven, the 1980s)
Towns folk burn a pedophile to death and then believe their nightmare is over. They’re mistaken.
The Exorcist (William Friedkin, the 1970s)
The Devil possesses a little girl and brave priests seek to save her soul. It does not end well.
The Omen (Richard Donner, the 1970s)
A nice family adopts a orphan boy who might be the AntiChrist. As you do.
Rosemary’s Baby (Roman Polanski, the 1960s)
Mum fears her unborn baby is the spawn of the devil. She’s probably right.
Night of the Living Dead (George R Romero, the 1960s)
Hell is full and there is no more room for the dead, so they rise and eat people. Suck it Walking Dead.
Hellraiser (Clive Barker, the 1980s)
There’s a box, a man with a head full of nails and a deeply sado-masochistic flair. It’s all so terribly English.
Alien (Ridley Scott, the 1970s)
I don’t want to go to space because of this movie.