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[Review] “Deadwax” Has An Eerie Atmosphere And Killer Sound

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On paper, Shudder’s new original series Deadwax (premiering Nov. 15) sounds like The Ring but just with a different object that kills its user. While that isn’t untrue, the series expands that initial premise with intriguing world-building and lore. And of course, the music is great, otherwise what is the point?

The opening scene shows a man meticulously taking out a plain red vinyl record, treating it like a mythical thing of sinister beauty, like the music version of the Lament Configuration. He places the record on a turntable, as the needle slowly goes down, looking more like a guillotine about to chop off a head. He sits down and smiles as the record begins to play, the camera closing in on his face. Then a quick and horrible sound interrupts the man as the screen goes black and then reveals the same man, dead, with his skin gray and mummified, his eye sockets empty and black as the void of space.

It’s an eye-opening start to what accounts for about two hours of TV. If you are the type to complain about shows and films being too long, then Deadwax’s 15-minute-long episodes should be right up your alley. Graham Reznick uses his extensive background as a sound designer, which includes The House of the Devil, and In a Valley of Violence, to craft a show where sound is essential. While good sound design is important in horror (look at this year’s A Quiet Place), there’s usually not a lot of experimenting with it. Reznic bases his entire premise on the idea of sound as a beautiful yet menacing thing, capable of horrible damage. The electric 70s giallo-inspired music, the eerie burst of static noise in the background and the audio cues before the jump scares elevate this beyond its comparisons to The Ring.

In the span of eight episodes, Deadwax follows Etta (Hannah Gross) a vinyl collector and hunter hired by rich people to track down rare records. She will do anything to get her hands on the rarest of the rare, even breaking into people’s houses at night. Her latest score includes a unique record from legendary sound engineer Lyle M. Lytton, part of a series and one of only three pressings in existence. This leads her to hearing about one of the other two records, one with weird markings on its deadwax (the space between the grooves and the label), said to be haunted. Meanwhile, a police officer while investigating the death of our mummy guy from the beginning will get more than he gambled for when he comes across the record.

Inspired by the concept of backmasking – hidden messages in vinyl records that can be discovered when playing backwards – and the Satanic Panic of the 70s, Deadwax treats its acetate subjects as mythical, almost magical objects. Reznick constantly uses close-ups and lingers on the turntable, the needle, and the turning of the vinyl as if it was otherworldly. Those who collect vinyl are portrayed not as hipsters or tinfoil-hat-wearing nutjobs, but as protectors of a sort of ancient art that the rest of the world doesn’t know about. Most of episode 4 is devoted to a college DJ alone in his booth talking about how special the format is. The show manages to also expand the lore of its universe without the need to show everything, as little pieces get added to the mystery and the mythology of Lytton’s killer record, specially around the idea of frequency resonance manipulation, and the notion that sound waves can make the human body react in invisible and sometimes deadly ways.

In the four episodes of Deadwax I saw, the series managed to create an eerie atmosphere that doesn’t shy away from gory and practical deaths like the mummified body or exploding heads. The mythology of the show is intriguing, and the characters have enough development to make you care, but the real winner is the short episode runtimes, which are laser-focused and will leave you wanting to binge the whole thing in one sitting.

Books

‘In Search of Darkness’ Book Review: A Must-Have for ’80s Horror Fans

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In 2019, the documentary of 80s horror In Search of Darkness became an instant hit with horror fans. Now, a beautiful coffee table style companion book is available and is a must-own for all fans of one of horror’s greatest eras. The book is a walk down the horror aisle of the best mom and pop video store in the heyday of VHS, featuring full color photos, poster art, insightful essays and more. More than just a nostalgic throwback, In Search of Darkness is the kind of book I wish I’d had back in my years as a burgeoning horror fan but is also satisfying for the film fanatic I have become in the years since.

The format is beautifully and simply laid out, with at least a dozen (usually more) movies from each year of the decade presented in order of release accompanied by informative and insightful essays by the authors Heather Wixson and Patrick Bromley. Both authors have been mainstays of film journalism, specializing in horror, for many years. Wixson began her career in 2007 with Dread Central and has spent the past ten years as the Managing Editor of Daily Dead, from which she recently retired to focus on books and other projects. She has devoted the past several years to interviewing and writing books about the Make-up and Special Effects wizards that have brought so much to film over the years, specifically the horror genre.

Bromley is a film journalist and critic whose work can be found all over the place including right here on Bloody Disgusting. He recently provided the commentary for the Vinegar Syndrome release of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 and is known as something of a Tobe Hooper expert. He is also the founder and editor of F this Movie!, an eclectic film website, and host of its accompanying podcast. So, to be clear, the authors know their stuff.

Wixson and Bromley divide writing duties roughly in half and though each has a distinctive voice, their writing styles dovetail beautifully into a cohesive whole. Each author plays to their strengths. Being familiar with both their work I didn’t even have to look at the bylines to know that Heather covered Christine and Terror in the Aisles and Patrick took on The Funhouse and Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers. Wixson’s passion for make-up effects is clear and comes through in many of her contributions. In general, Wixson takes on the “big” titles, the movies that defined the decade the most, and Bromley covers what the more cynical among us might call schlock, but he would likely call pure cinematic bliss. There are exceptions and surprises, of course, as there should be (Patrick covers The Shining for example). Each essay dives into the history behind the film, the major players involved, the reception, and legacy with often surprising aspects drawn from interviews with the filmmakers from various sources and insights from the authors.

For all their in-depth explorations of each film, in general the authors keep their critics’ hats safely stowed, keeping in mind that every entry on the book has its fans. In fact, they may well have sold me on finally hitting play on some of the schlockier offerings of the decade like Evilspeak, Nightbeast, and Blood Diner. Hell, I may even give The Beast Within a spin for shits and giggles. The point is that this book is a celebration through and through. The authors are honest about the critical receptions of the films, which were often unkind, and sometimes let their own opinions shine through, but recognize how beloved even the schlockiest films can become given time and availability. And that is an ongoing theme of In Search of Darkness. What may have been dismissed in its day often becomes revered as the years pass. Variations on the phrase “the years have been kind to…” referring to various maligned projects like The Thing, Halloween III: Season of the Witch, The Blob and many, many others, can be found throughout the book for good reason.

Each chapter of the book also includes a rundown of the top horror movies at the box office for the year as well as the top movies of all genres for context. The final page for each year highlights some of the major news and pop culture events including the top songs, albums, and television shows. There is a large central section that pays tribute to the talent involved with the greatest horror films of the 80s including directors, actors, effects artists, and more. This section includes brief biographies of John Carpenter, Wes Craven, Stephen King, Tom Savini, Barbara Crampton, Robert Englund, and many others presented in a dynamic and engaging fashion.

One of the beauties of the book is that it covers so much ground. Sure, you’ll find Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, and the Halloween sequels in it, but you’ll also find deeper cuts like The Changeling, The Being, and Tetsuo: The Iron Man. I was happy to find the same love given to Frank Henenlotter and Larry Cohen as to George A. Romero and David Cronenberg. In other words, In Search of Darkness is extraordinarily eclectic, highlighting the diversity that truly defined what is often viewed as a homogenous decade. The authors make the case that the 80s was horror’s greatest decade, and with what they lay out throughout this book, it’s tough to argue against that. I even came across a film or two I hadn’t even heard of before, which has become increasingly rare as the years go by.

At just shy of $85, the cover price may give some horror hounds pause, but believe me, it’s worth every penny. This is a beautiful volume that every fan of 80s horror will want on their shelf or prominently displayed on their coffee table. Filled with favorite titles, hundreds of full color photos, insightful and informative writing, this is simply a must own.

You can order your copy now.

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