Editorials
Deeper Cuts: 5 Underrated John Carpenter Scores
Horror legend John Carpenter turns 78 this Friday, and Halloween Night: John Carpenter Live from Los Angeles is now streaming on Screambox. Bloody Disgusting is celebrating with John Carpenter Week. For John Carpenter’s birthday, Patrick Brennan champions the composer’s underrated works.
Halloween. Escape from New York. Assault on Precinct 13. These are the movies that usually come to mind when fans think of John Carpenter as a film score composer (hell, a lot of us practically have the music from those movies committed to memory).
Their themes are iconic and showcase what’s made the legendary director’s musical output so memorable. Through the synthesizer – an instrument he will always be synonymous with – Carpenter creates layers of atmosphere anchored by melodic hooks that refuse to leave your brain. As a result, he joins the ranks of film composers whose instantly recognizable style has helped them achieve rock star status (at least to us movie nerds).
As is the case with any popular musician with a lengthy catalog, it’s easy to get caught up listening to just the hits. There’s a reason why certain Carpenter scores, like the films they’re paired with, have become seminal records for so many fans. But there are many other fantastic pieces of music to be found throughout his career.
So, here are five John Carpenter scores that deserve more love. Some are underappreciated while others appear to be slept-on entirely. All, as the kids say, are bangers. Give them a spin, if you haven’t already, and see if you agree.
Village of the Damned (1995)
If you’re only familiar with John Carpenter’s 80s output, then his remake of the sci-fi horror classic Village of the Damned will be a fascinating listen for several reasons. For starters, those curious to hear what his synthesizer would sound like accompanied by a small orchestra will find their opportunity here. Also adding to the unique flavor of the score is the fact that Carpenter had a different musical collaborator for this picture. While much of the previous decade was spent working with Alan Howarth, this project saw him teaming up with Kinks lead guitarist Dave Davies, most notably on the track “March of the Children.” The end product is a score that sounds unlike anything heard in a Carpenter film to that date.
Prince of Darkness (1987)
The second film in John Carpenter’s “Apocalypse Trilogy” is a steady and deliberate affair. The tension ratchets up incrementally, similar to how the laws of nature slowly begin to defy themselves as the movie’s title baddie gestates in his glass womb. The score to Prince of Darkness illustrates that mounting dread beautifully, providing a smorgasbord of highlights. The pulsing “Opening Titles” plays like a staccato heartbeat, informing us of the impending awakening of the sleeper, while “Darkness Begins” sounds like the perversion of a sacred hymn, complete with a demonic organ and choir. But it’s “The Devil Awakens” that really brings the heat, beginning with a hint of quiet menace before exploding into chaos. It’s Carpenter’s most complete sounding score from start to finish, and it’s no surprise that it’s one of his favorites.
Body Bags (1993)
Listen: I defy you to tell me “The Coroner’s Theme” isn’t a goddamn bop. If that single opening track was the only decent piece of music found in Body Bags, I’d still say the score was underrated; that’s how much it slaps. Thankfully, while it definitely is a high point, there are plenty of other great moments in this collaboration between Carpenter and Jim Lang (who would go on to work with John on In the Mouth of Madness the following year). There’s the jazzy Twin Peaks-esque “Long Beautiful Hair,” the chillingly disturbing finale that is “…Pluck it Out,” and “The Picture on the Wall,” which sounds like a distant cousin to Halloween’s “Main Title Theme.” It might not be the moodiest entry in Carpenter’s discography, but it’s hell of a lot of fun.
Christine (1983)
This may seem like a weird choice for a list of underrated works, but hear me out. Yes, it’s been agreed upon in recent years that “Moochie’s Death” is an absolute heater of a tune. It’s uncanny the way Carpenter is able to give voice to Christine’s single-minded rage and bloodlust, and it’s often the theme that comes to mind for folks when they think of the film. But what always gets me in the feels when watching the movie are the score’s quieter moments. There’s so much going on in “Arnie’s Love Theme,” for instance. On the surface, there’s the sound of the character’s obsession building, but beneath that, we hear the aspects of Arnie’s personality that make him a perfect target for an entity like Christine: his loneliness, insecurity, and self-loathing. To me, this is one of Carpenter’s most emotionally rich musical outings, and it deserves a place amongst his best works.
Vampires (1998)
If you’re a fan of the blues or Memphis soul, you’re probably going to perk up when you look through the list of musicians John Carpenter enlisted for Vampires, his criminally underrated horror western. Steve Cropper and Donald “Duck” Don, one-half of the iconic Stax Records instrumental group Booker T & the M.G.’s, lend their immense talents to the score, along with Doobie Brothers and Steely Dan guitarist Jeff Baxter. Big names aside, what makes this movie so interesting sonically is the fact that it gives us both sides of the Carpenter musical experience. We get the synth maestro with his brooding and atmospheric melodies (“Sunrise Death,” “Valek’s Portrait”) and the rock & roll-loving bandleader (“Slayers,” “Motel Sex”). It all makes for one of the most versatile and infinitely listenable scores to be found in Carpenter’s catalog.
Follow along all week long as we salute John Carpenter.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
You must be logged in to post a comment.