Editorials
[Viral Horrors] The Paranoia, Madness and Eldritch Horror of “The Dionaea House”
Since the dawn of civilization, human beings have been scaring the crap out of each other with horror stories inspired by their immediate environments. From early rural communities that feared the terrors creeping in from the wilderness to more recent urban dwellers that feared their own neighbors’ capacity for cruelty, it’s clear how our legends (be it werewolves or unstoppable serial killers) are shaped by our experiences. Nowadays, however, many people don’t seem to realize that we spend most of our waking hours online, be it at home or work, on computers or phones, and our stories have adjusted accordingly.
That’s why I believe it’s time to discuss the Viral Horrors that surround us every day. From Creepypastas to killer memes, these sordid tales are as much a part of our culture as campfire stories about vengeful forest spirits, only on a much larger scale. So let’s dive in, and see if we can come to appreciate these online scares and what they mean to us.
Today, I’d like to talk about a little online odyssey known as The Dionaea House, a sprawling, interconnected narrative told over a collection of blogs and e-mail transcripts that were uploaded by Eric Heisserer (The Thing, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Final Destination 5, Lights Out, Arrival) back in 2004 (though the story itself begins much earlier). In this epistolary tale, we’re introduced to a handful of characters as they communicate through the internet and investigate the connections between an old friend’s murder-suicide and a mysterious house.
As the story progresses, we soon learn that this House might not be a House after all, and that there are others like it, connected in ways that seem to break the laws of physics. With the added elements of paranoia, madness and eldritch horror constantly looming in the background, The Dionaea House evolves into one of my favorite online horror stories that still feels as fresh now as it did back in ’04.
I love these old blogging layouts.
That being said, the story is still clearly a product of its time, with the internet in the early 2000s being ripe with conspiracy theorists, paranormal enthusiasts and viral versions of urban legends that had been popular since the 1950s being spread through forwarded e-mails. Hell, if it wasn’t for Snopes, I’d still be afraid of that one maniac that was said to hide around in parking lots so he could slit folks’ Achilles’ tendons and then haul them off to a sex dungeon or something.
I’m not saying that these things disappeared from the modern internet (in fact, sharing unfounded rumors and accusations as fact is easier now than it’s ever been), but with the rise of mainstream social media and reputable news sites, personal accounts are no longer taken so seriously. Back then, however, in a world of personal homepages and primitive blogging, The Dionaea House pioneered a horror story told over multiple points of view in our new, interconnected world.
It wasn’t the first attempt at an epistolary horror story told through hypertext, and I’ll be the first to admit that there are more than a few similarities with Mark Z. Danielewski’s House of Leaves, but The Dionaea House hits much closer to home with its online presentation despite dealing with equally absurd details (I mean, both houses are technically eating people). The two stories also have a botanical element in common, with Danielewski comparing his endless house with the mythical tree Yggdrasil, and Heisserer describing his creation as a Venus Flytrap (scientific name: Dionaea muscipula) that attracts curious visitors with online rumors and sweet smells, then proceeds to devour their minds and bodies.
I’m a big fan of the symbolism here, not to mention the horrific potential of a being that uses its own online legend as a lure for more potential victims. Living in a world full of curiosity-fueled web-users constantly researching on multiple tabs, I think this tale is really ahead of its time. Plus, if you start to think about it, Eric’s uploads are actually serving the House’s ultimate goal, drawing just enough attention so that it’ll never go hungry, but never enough that people start a serious investigation.
You can technically read these in any order.
What makes the story scary isn’t that you necessarily believe it’s real (though I have a lot of fun reading through terrified comments on the blog posts), but that you know that in a place as wild as the internet, it could be. This uncertainty is something of a running theme in these internet yarns, and part of the reason why Creepypastas became so effective.
It’s no surprise that both the author and his work would eventually make their way to Hollywood (with Eric being involved with the Nightmare on Elm Street remake, Lights Out and even being nominated for an Oscar for Arrival), though the official Dionaea House adaptation remains in development hell.
As I’m writing this, it also appears that the original Dionaea House website (the one containing the first part of the story with links to the rest of it) has gone offline, which only reinforces the importance of discussing and preserving these bits of internet culture while we still can. Luckily, some noble fans managed to save the text so we can still read it elsewhere, but it’s a shame that we can no longer experience this part of the story as it was originally intended.
Nevertheless, with or without the original website, I can assure you that The Dionaea House is still out there waiting for a new generation of viral victims, so I’ll leave you with the links necessary to embark on this perilous journey. Just beware, as the door is always open.
- Correspondence from Mark Condry.
- Adventures in Babysitting.
- A Quiet Space.
- The Blog of Loreen Mathers.
Editorials
‘Bloodstone: Subspecies II’ Revisited: A Bigger, Bolder Follow-Up to Full Moon’s Vampire Cult Classic
Horror sequels are a peculiar thing. In most cases, follow-ups to scary movies tend to retread the same formula with different victims and more over-the-top scares. This is because audiences tend to be more interested in the antagonists of these pictures than anything else, with even main characters becoming disposable when the time comes to produce a sequel.
That’s why some of the most memorable horror sequels are the ones that actually manage to hold onto interesting survivors from previous films while also pushing the story forward instead of having the same thing happen again to a different group of people. From Scream 2 to Dream Warriors (and arguably even The Exorcist III: Legion), there are quite a few of these innovative sequels to go around.
However, if there’s one franchise that deserves more attention when discussing bigger and better continuations that make the most of episodic filmmaking, it has to be Ted Nicolaou’s Subspecies.
The Full Moon classic spawned an indie horror icon, but bizarre sequel Bloodstone: Subspecies II is even more beloved than its predecessor.
Building a Bigger Vampire Saga
While the film itself takes place almost immediately after the events of the first movie, Bloodstone only entered production a couple of years after the release of the original as both Charles Band and Nicolaou weighed the pros and cons of returning to Romania to continue the series. In an effort to maximize efficiency, the team decided to invest in a trilogy where parts II and III, now fully written by Nicolaou, would be filmed simultaneously over the course of a single grueling shoot.
Much like the first Subspecies, Bloodstone’s low budget meant that the filmmakers once again had to cut corners and re-use as many of their resources as possible. Thankfully, the process was much easier this time around as Nicolaou, with the help of Romanian cinematographer Vlad Paunescu and his wife Oana, became more acquainted with local customs and made new friends. Shooting abroad still came with its own unique set of challenges due to a lack of translators and the occasional safety concerns, but the crew managed to make things work by filming things guerrilla-style and setting up shop in abandoned caves and real medieval ruins.
The director’s newfound contacts, coupled with the relative success of the first movie, meant that he was basically given free rein over an assortment of shooting locations usually considered off-limits for indie horror. That’s why Bloodstone features insanely ambitious lighting and effects work even during scenes shot in the middle of a bustling Bucharest. The filmmakers went so far as to project Radu’s Nosferatu-like shadows over local monuments as if he were a Romanian boogeyman, an idea that was actually encouraged by local cinephiles.
In fact, many of the more elaborate scenes here had originally been planned for the first movie before being discarded due to the lack of available resources. It was only with the support of Romanian fans and filmmakers that Bloodstone was able to give Radu a chance to be even more menacing the second time around.
Michelle’s Transformation Takes Center Stage
However, when it came to the American part of the crew, not everyone was able or willing to return for another round of Romanian adventuring. That’s why Radu’s human-loving half-brother Stefan (Michael Watson) is unceremoniously killed off at the beginning of the film while the role of Michelle had to be recast. Denice Duff took over for Laura Mae Tate, with the character now being joined by her sister, Rebecca, played by Melanie Shatner (yes, that Shatner).
In the finished film, we follow Michelle as she awakens to her new life as a vampire and discovers that Radu has murdered her lover. Struggling with grief and her newfound bloodlust, Michelle contacts her sister overseas, with Rebecca soon travelling to Romania on an ill-advised rescue mission. Meanwhile, Radu (Anders Hove) reaches out to his undead Mummy (Pamela Gordon, underneath heavy layers of impressive makeup effects) and promises to deliver her the coveted Bloodstone artifact while also making Michelle his eternal consort.
Revisiting the movie, I was impressed with how introspective this story is when compared to the original. The sequel assumes that you’re already familiar with the previously established characters, so the story wastes no time in exploring the immediate aftermath of the previous film’s events. From Michelle’s reluctant transformation into a creature of the night to Radu’s obvious mommy issues, Nicolaou is way more interested in pushing these characters into new and uncharted territory rather than recycling existing plot points.
Practical Effects and Gothic Atmosphere Still Impress
Yet, much like the first film, it’s Romania itself that makes the movie worth watching. The ruins of Castle Vladislav are even more majestic now, and visiting the moody streets of Bucharest with its surprisingly punk-rock nightlife made for a nice change of pace when compared to the original film’s quiet village setting. Once again, the abundance of interesting locations makes the movie feel much more expensive than it really is, with the filmmakers surrounding our characters with a living, breathing environment that would be impossible to recreate in a studio.
The increased freedom also allowed Nicolaou to flex his filmmaking muscles and tackle more ambitious blocking/composition in the sequel. The low budget and tropey script mean that the visuals don’t always work, but it’s consistently clear that this neo-expressionist style could only come from a passionate team attempting to pay homage to the shadowy horror classics of yesteryear. If the retro atmosphere isn’t enough for you, there’s enough practical gore here to satisfy even the most demanding of horror hounds!
Radu himself is also far more interesting now that Hove is more comfortable working alongside an international crew, with the actor having gone on record explaining that, while he spent more time drinking vodka than working while shooting the first movie, the sequel was a much more creatively satisfying experience for everyone involved. The character’s relationship with his abusive Mummy is also a highlight of the expanded mythology, especially since the practical effects that bring her to life are just as freaky now as they were back in ’93.
My only real gripe with the horror elements of the picture comes from the glaring absence of the diminutive stop-motion minions from the first film, though I guess the surprisingly entertaining addition of Professor Popescu (Michael Denish) and his archeological antics mostly make up for that.
Bloodstone: Subspecies II is obviously the middle chapter of a trilogy, with the ending feeling a lot less definitive than its predecessor as several plot threads are left to dangle in the wind, but I appreciate how the flick explores new ground while remaining faithful to nearly all the ideas that made the original such a good time. While I don’t think it’s as big of an improvement over the first movie as some fans make it out to be, Bloodstone is definitely worth revisiting if you’re a fan of old-fashioned vampire yarns.
Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion to this initial trilogy, Bloodlust: Subspecies III!
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