Editorials
A Disturbing Nightmare: Returning to ‘Eden Lake’ 16 Years Later
Here in the US, James Watkins’ directorial debut Eden Lake went straight to DVD and was distributed by Dimension Films. Of all the titles to fly under the Dimension Extreme banner though, this one was the most deserving. The movie turned out to be more of an endurance test than I could have ever anticipated. Eden Lake also manages to be both acclaimed and despised. Anyone who knows what became of Michael Fassbender and Kelly Reilly’s characters very well understands the mixed sentiments surrounding this movie.
British horror was struggling to hold on after the original closure of Hammer and the Video Nasties period, yet by the early 2000s, a revival had begun. It was as if the reluctance to do genre movies had been replaced with a kind of fever. Dog Soldiers, My Little Eye, Deathwatch, 28 Days Later, Shaun of the Dead, Creep, The Descent. There was now this flood of horror not seen since the ‘70s. And perhaps in a bid to compete with the general intensity of France’s New Extremity, these newer Brit horrors were not all Gothic houses and ghosts. On the contrary, the aughts had an increasing penchant for physical menace, special effects, and sharp violence.
Eden Lake might have been trying to match the bite force of its French contemporaries, such as High Tension, or maybe it wanted to show up overseas movies like Hostel and Saw, but Watkins was also reflecting the times. In more ways than one, of course. Not only had all horror started to push the envelope, there was a discernible uptick in cruelty. The ‘00s output, by and large, was excessive when it came to brutality. Filmmakers had turned the destruction of the human body into an artform.

Pictured: Kelly Reilly and Michael Fassbender in Eden Lake.
So why does Eden Lake leave a bad taste in the mouth, despite its peers having similar mean streaks? Well, this movie’s timing was as opportune as it was poor. As I had learned through horror movies like Eden Lake, the ubiquitous hoodie was under fire in the UK due to their perceived connection to criminality and antisocial behavior. The 2000s-era political movement to curb freedoms of hoodies’ primary demographic, namely youth, was met with criticism; Conservative David Cameron claimed the fashion choice was “more defensive than offensive” and wearers required “a lot more love.” However, his “hug-a-hoodie” speech missed the mark, especially when a certain picture — a hooded photobomber waved a finger-gun while standing behind an unaware Cameron — made the headlines. You can imagine how this was perceived and weaponized by the media and public. Not too long after, the most well-known hoodie horror movie was then released. And to some folks, Eden Lake did more harm than good by validating irrational fears.
Horror has a tendency to be the most informed of its surroundings — culturally, socially, politically — as well as transparent with its messaging. So when a movie like Eden Lake delivers a story about reprobates menacing affluent tourists, especially during the midst of Hoodie Panic, then it’s understandable that audiences would feel confused. On the surface is a not-so-standard thriller that is thoroughly gripping. Watkins successfully channeled classic rural British horrors, like And Soon the Darkness and Straw Dogs, and adjusted the ferocity for modern times. The story’s refusal to show mercy or hold back sets it apart from all the so-called “torture porn” coming out in those days.
Revisiting Eden Lake poses a challenge, even now knowing what to expect. Maybe more so. That awful sequence of Steve (Fassbender) suffering unduly at the hands of his teenage killers (led by the magnetic and fierce Jack O’Connell) is shorter than remembered, but waiting for it to end still feels like an eternity. There was this trend of making the victims of 2000s horror movies intentionally obnoxious so that their gruesome deaths would be more entertaining. In that same vein, Watkins indeed painted Steve to be snobbish and incapable of picking his battles; he could have left and gone elsewhere. But truly, was any of that grounds for death? Absolutely not. And not a swift and painless death, either. No, Steve realizes he’s not long for this world once he finds himself bleeding “gut blood.” Prolonging that agony is equally effective and fiendish on the director’s part.

Pictured: Michael and Fassbender Kelly Reilly in Eden Lake.
Taken at face value, Eden Lake is yet another graphic battle between locals and outsiders. Digging deeper and taking the peripheral Hoodie Panic into full account, the movie is a politically charged piece of exploitation. The story does more than update the violence of vintage rural horror; it also modifies the villains. Instead of the usual countryside and backwoods killers, there are now “chavs” hunting down the middle and upper classes. In his book Chavs: The Demonization of the Working Class, political activist, journalist and author Owen Jones went so far as to say movies like Eden Lake encouraged people to be afraid of the working class. And based on the reactions across the pond, some Brits accepted the movie’s portrayal as truth.
It would be remiss to not bring up why Eden Lake doesn’t encourage rewatches. As you might guess, I am referring to the movie’s ending. After Fassbender’s character is removed from the story altogether, Jenny (Reilly) takes over. She’s been set up to be the survivor since the beginning. And like all the final girls before her, Jenny defeats her attackers and finds refuge. Unfortunately, Jenny’s safety and our relief are both fleeting, because her saviors are none other than the parents of the teens she just slaughtered. And like the scary monsters they are thought to be, the parents take matters into their own hands and do to Jenny what their kids did to Steve. That type of ending is much too bleak, even for this one desensitized viewer.
Whether or not it meant to, Eden Lake fed into the idea of a Broken Britain. The belief that the UK was suffering from social decay. Yet depending on whatever side of the Atlantic you happen to be situated on, the political context may not even matter. To the more casual and unaffected viewer, Eden Lake is, quite simply, a viscerally unkind movie. One that exceeds the limits of its own genre.
James Watkins’ new horror movie, Speak No Evil, is now available on Digital.
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.

Pictured: Jack O’Connell, Thomas Turgoose, and Finn Atkins in Eden Lake.
Editorials
‘The Vampire Lestat’ Concert Event Launches New Season With The Ultimate Expression Of Fandom
There are thousands of passionate fans decked out in gothic chic and champing at the bit like feral creatures. They’re screaming for Lestat, a legendary vampire-turned-rock star, as if the entire crowd has been glamored into submission.
The entire experience is magic, but not because some supernatural thrall has been activated. What’s going on is even more special. It’s the power of the effusive fandom that’s been authentically assembled by AMC’s sublime Immortal Universe, namely Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire, now, The Vampire Lestat.
The Vampire Lestat is far from the first Anne Rice adaptation, and it’s not as if there’s been a lack of erotic vampire material for audiences to sink their teeth into. On June 2nd, during a one-night-only spectacle, New York City’s prestigious Beacon Theatre shook from Sam Reid’s bravado performance and an audience full of adoring fans who had already memorized Lestat’s songs.
It’s clear that The Vampire Lestat just hits differently than its predecessors. It’s become more than just a TV series at this point, and this opulent display of ego, swagger, and pure sex is the perfect way to premiere the new season and give back to the fans who helped make Interview with the Vampire/The Vampire Lestat such a breakout success. It’s exactly the sort of hyperbolized hedonism that would make Lestat cackle.

For all intents and purposes, AMC has successfully created the illusion that this concert/premiere is just one of the many destinations on Lestat and his band’s 54-stop tour that is simultaneously playing out on this season of television. It’s such a sophisticated and thorough level of interactive fan engagement that the audience doesn’t just understand, but also manages to accentuate through its involvement.
It’s a level of seamless synergy that’s not unlike the give-and-take relationship of vampire and victim.
Before the concert started, “LeStans” were sitting in the Beacon and flipping through a fake Rolling Stone issue with Lestat emblazoned on the cover, complete with interviews with the undead frontman inside. Other fans were admiring the vinyl pressing of Lestat’s EP as they walked past a section of undead band merch. Fandom and fantasy blur together, and it all becomes this elaborate, immersive experience. Fan celebration, erotic gothic fantasy, and a lavish rock concert transform into one beautiful thing.
To this point, AMC Global Media’s Chief Content Officer and President of AMC Studios, Dan McDermott, introduced the event by reiterating to fans, “You are the heartbeat of the series.” That’s abundantly clear on nights like this as that heartbeat collectively pulses to this performance. In terms of how AMC engages with The Vampire Lestat’s fans, it’s as bold a reinvention as the season itself.
This intuitive gamble speaks to AMC’s creativity in this department and a fandom that is eager to seize such opportunities. It’s the same innovation that led to zombie walks for The Walking Dead and real-life Los Pollos Hermanos restaurant pop-ups from Breaking Bad. It’s a great way to pump up the audience for The Vampire Lestat and then maintain that enthusiasm for the whole season.
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For most series, a rock ‘n’ roll concert just doesn’t make any sense as a promotional tool. The Vampire Lestat finds itself in a very unique position where it can deliver an excellent concert at an iconic theater, but also use it to showcase The Vampire Lestat’s music by Daniel Hart (who was shredding on stage alongside Reid and the rest of their band) and, more than anything, Sam Reid’s endless charisma.
The way in which Reid feeds off of the crowd’s energy, modulating his performance and giving different sections of the Beacon life, is a perfect distillation of the series’ thoughtful relationship with its audience and how it’s become such a breakout success for AMC. AMC Studios President Dan McDermott emphasized that the fans are the reason that the show is still here and why an event like this is even possible. It’s rare to see a series in which every single cog in the machine is so perfectly attuned to its fans. Reid’s fans already cheer whenever they see him, so why not translate that to a concert setting?
It’s clear in this season of television that Reid was born to be a rock star, but it’s surreal to see him effortlessly command the stage — and the audience — at every step of the concert. He recites Shakespeare monologues and bitches out Armand between songs, all while the audience screams in support. For the duration of this concert, Reid is Lestat, and he’s given thousands of fans a memory that’s as immortal as any vampire.
Now bring on the encore and get this show on the road!
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