Why My Kids Are Cooler Than Yours

I was quite thrilled recently to finally get my hands on the ultimate 2-disc collector's edition of Nosferatu. It came out almost two years ago, but for one reason or another, I had only gotten around to snagging it now. I was looking forward to finally watching my favorite German Expressionistic horror film the way it was meant to be seen--original score, tinted frames and all. And of course, I was also looking forward to taking my kids along for the ride. Cause that's just how I roll.

My seven-year-old daughter, a budding vampire aficionado (I'm watching out for goth tendencies from now) was pretty damn psyched, and insisted we watch it together. Pretty sweet, right? Well, the catch is that she is still, after all, a seven-year-old girl, and on this particular night it just so happened that the allure of androgynous boys and painfully bad comedy on what passes for the Disney Channel these days was just too strong.

But that's what I have a son for, right?

I somehow managed to pry the boy away from his precious Nintendo Wii with the promise of monsters and mayhem. As dedicated as he is to the classic movie monsters, silent fare had proven to be a hurdle even he could not get over, what with his 21st century attention span and all. And yet, I had a feeling that the restored soundtrack and colored filters would provide just enough bells and whistles to keep his addled little brain in check.

And so, the boy, myself, and my dad sat down to enjoy F.W. Murnau's masterpiece--a trifecta of multi-generational horror fans doing what we do best. And it was indeed awesome for a time. The little dude sat in rapt attention as I melodramatically read the translated dialogue cards, and jumped at all the right moments: Count Orlock entering Hutter's room, stalking the deck of the ship, rising stiff as a board out of that coffin. That thrill that is my greatest reward every time I introduce him to a new horror flick.

But then, my poor darling girl, who must've heard us from her position upstairs soaking in the tween pablum that passes for young adult entertainment, stomped downstairs in a serious huff. The jig was up.

"You put on Nosferatu without me?" she asked incredulously, daggers in her big blue eyes...

I tried to explain to the girl that we owned this DVD and could watch it whenever we liked. That just because she didn't feel like watching it, didn't mean I couldn't. And of course, like a good daddy, that I would be happy to watch it with her from beginning to end tomorrow night. That seemed to allay some of the feelings of betrayal that had caused those tiny tears to well up.

And then it was time to put both of them to bed, which of course, led to a full-scale hissy fit on the part of the boy, who was just on the verge of witnessing Orlock making his iconic climb up the stairs to Ellen's bedroom for his final feasting.

Imagine that. A seven-year-old and a four-year-old vying passionately for the opportunity to watch Nosferatu. There may be hope for the future of America yet...

* Special thanks to BJ-C, who never seems to tire of reveling in the horrific exploits of me and my little ones... Hope you like!

The Silent Dead: A History of Horror Movies, Part 1

For as long as humans have been sophisticated enough to desire entertainment, we've had an innate fascination with being horrified. Perhaps the last vestigal remants of the "fight or flight" instinct give us this visceral thrill, which we can enjoy freely with the knowledge that what we are seeing is not real.
As ingrained as the love of being scared is in the human psyche, it's suprising that horror took a while to establish itself as a major genre in the motion picture business. In the earliest days of the movies, they were not very common, particularly in America, where religious groups still held great sway over public opinion.
At the beginning of the industry, it was in Europe that horror films first took root. Pioneering French filmmaker Georges Melies (best known for 1902's A Trip to the Moon) is credited with creating the earliest examples with his two short films, The House of the Devil (1896) and The Cave of the Demons (1898).
At the start of the 20th century, the epicenter of the motion picture biz was in Germany, and horror pictures were no different. A wave of Expressionistic films emerged there in the '10s and '20s, the impact of which continues to be felt to this day. Chief among them were Paul Wegener's The Golem (1920), Robert Wiene's The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) and of course, F.W. Murnau's 1922 masterpiece, Nosferatu--the first of countless Dracula adaptations.
Meanwhile, in the States, it was actually Thomas Edison, who had invented motion picture technology in the first place, whose production company put out what may be America's first horror movie and the first in another long tradition, 1910's short film Frankenstein.
In Hollywood, the 1920s produced the first horror movie megastar, the one and only Lon Chaney. Known as "The Man of a Thousand Faces," Chaney achieved notoriety in large part due to his uncanny ability to transform himself through make-up. Chief among his notable roles are The Monster (1925), lost film London After Midnight (1927) and his iconic turn in The Phantom of the Opera (1925), which gave rise to Universal's classic monster movie series the following decade.
The end of the 1920s saw the rise of a revolution in filmmaking thanks to arguably the greatest innovation the industry has ever seen: sound. The effects would be profound, and horror movies would lead the way.
Other major releases:

• Dr. Jeckyll & Mr. Hyde (1920)
• The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923)

Soon to come: Part 2 - Gods and Monsters

Nosferatu Rises Again on DVD

For many, it's not just the first great horror film, but still among the very finest of all time. And now, thanks to Kino International, it's finally getting the treatment it deserves.
In one week, the "Ultimate DVD Edition" of the 1922 F.W. Murnau masterpiece Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror will be released. A startling example of film restoration, the movie has been brought as close to its original grandeur as is humanly possible, including the original color tinting and a re-recording of the original score.
The edition also boasts:

• The original German intertitles, plus the option for either newly translated English intertitles or subtitles.
• "The Language of Shadows", a making-of documentary.
• A short documentary on the restoration, which can be watched in its entirety here.
• Lengthy excerpts from other Murnau films.

Basically, this thing is a treasure trove for any serious horror fan, so much so that I may even dust off the ol' wallet to spring for it, despite already owning an earlier edition. You can pre-order it here.