How My Love of Horror Began

My love of horror films was like a sexual awakening. It’s hard to pin down the exact moment I became a horror lover. It was a passion that developed gradually. Before I was ever allowed to watch horror films, I pined for them. They were a forbidden fruit that I was desperate to taste.

I remember dying to stay up late on Saturday nights to watch the horror double bill on BBC2, but my parents were strict about bedtimes. I managed to catch the odd glimpse on the black and white portable TV in my bedroom, but my clandestine viewing was usually discovered before I had a chance to enjoy more than a few minutes.

Then, on Saturday 28 June 1980, I was allowed to stay up and watch the first of that evening's double bill. The movie was Night of the Demon (1957) and it remains a firm favourite to this day. It was followed by The Ghoul from 1975, but I was under strict instructions to go to bed before this more modern offering started. I think I managed to watch about half an hour of it on the portable before my older brother came to bed and switched it off. I’ve seen it several times since, and love it.

My horror-hungry heart was finally set pounding by Hammer House of Horror. This 13-part anthology series was screened on ITV between 13 September and 6 December 1980, and it was on early enough in the evening for me to see it. It terrified me (I was a sensitive soul) but I loved it! I’ve seen it since and it doesn’t terrify me anymore, but it’s a wonderful piece of nostalgia. At the time though, certain episodes and scenes had me lying awake for hours, reliving them in a state of genuine fear – the doppelganger hitchhiker with the long black fingernail; the werewolves being looked after by a human nanny, played by the wonderful Diana Dors; and blood pouring from a water pipe all over a party of little kids in the episode called The House that Bled to Death.

But my real horror awakening came at the age of 15 when I went with my mother to visit my aunt in California for three weeks. during the vacation, my older cousin rented every horror film available from the video store. I was introduced to The Exorcist, The Amityville Horror, The Entity and so many more during those sun-drenched weeks. And after that, there was no looking back.

The Exorcist, in particular, freaked me out. It was so shocking to a horror-naive, boy. To this day, when people ask me what the scariest horror film I’ve seen is, I usually reply with The Exorcist. The response is mixed. Some totally get it, others are mystified as to how I can find a horror movie from the early 70s so disturbing.

Firstly, let’s put it into that context — it was released in the early 70s! I can’t imagine the impact this film would have had to cinema audiences in 1973. I can actually believe that people fainted in their seats, or as they were crawling (and jabbering) toward the exits. The language alone must surely have been shocking, particularly coming from a teenage girl.

As a side note, there were Catholic priests onset as advisors and, apparently, one of the main criticisms they had was that the possessed Regan wasn’t foul-mouthed enough! Genuinely possessed people have real potty mouths, it seems.

Secondly, it’s just a brilliantly directed and crafted movie. The slow build and scenes featuring the all-American, sweet, young Regan, make her transition to scarred, soup-vomiting, head-twisting, demonic Regan all the more horrifying. The horror build and builds, but it’s the subtle touches that add to the sense of unease. (And I’m not talking about the almost subliminal flashes of the demon’s face at points throughout the film.)

One such subtle, goosebumps moment, is when the hideous guttural voice of the demon asks Father Karras “Can you help an old altar boy, Father?”. The line mirrors that of a homeless man asking the Father for help earlier in the film and confirms for the priest, and the audience, that there really is some all-knowing evil force inside Regan.

And of course, there are the iconic scenes that have been copied and parodied countless times — Regan growling ‘your mother sucks cocks in Hell’, the spinning head, the pea soup vomit. Despite the numerous spoofs, most of these scenes still stand up today, even if the effects are dated.

On another side note, the vomit in the famous spewing scene was supposed to hit Father Karras in the chest but was accidentally sprayed all over his face. That look of shock and disgust was for real.

There are many other scenes that leave a vivid imprint on my memory — let’s not forget the peeing in the living room, the levitating bed, or the spider-walk down the stairs. The spider walk didn’t make it into the original cut as director William Friedkin thought it ramped up the horror too early, plus he wasn’t happy with the quality of the effect, believing the wires that made it possible were too visible. The scene was restored to the 2000 director’s cut with the help of a little CGI to remove the wires.

But no one scene makes this movie. It’s the culmination of all of them, backed by great direction and acting performances that make The Exorcist such an iconic horror masterpiece.

My next golden age of horror exposure came a few years later when my friend Heather introduced me to the sordid wonders of the Scala Cinema in Kings Cross. Among other dark wonders, it was in the dark, urine-tinged interior of The Scala that I discovered Dario Argento.

You can read about this rocky relationship in my next blog.