Black Gate

Courtesy Wallpaperflair.com

If you’ve read GCN for any length of time, you’ve probably come to understand that as it pertains to vampires, I am a solid purist. I mean, I’m not at all against imagining them in modern society, as in Blade or Blood Red Sky, and I positively love alternative takes such as Let the Right One In and The Lost Boys. It’s also hard not to be a fan of What We Do in the Shadows because it’s just so darn wrong.

But what is absolutely a no-go for me are vampires who literally ignore all the rules of the genre such as sparkling, or going to high school (if only on cloudy days), etc, etc. If that sounds like the only vampires I don’t like live in Washington state, then you may well be right.

But the vampire stories I adore the most are those which cater to all of Bram Stoker’s original tropes, number one of which is that vampires are scary, blood-sucking monsters. And that’s why what I’m about to share is decidedly good news.

It appears that The Last Voyage of the Demeter, due out later this summer, could be the movie that brings my beloved legendary vampire back to his dark and sinister roots.

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If you’re wondering why I’m giving this whole thing any additional oxygen, that makes two of us. But sometimes the universe deals up such general absurdity that I can’t let it pass.

Case in point, the latest buzz-generating horror flick, Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey.

First, I need to point out (if it wasn’t obvious) that the said buzz isn’t good; though Hollywood has always maintained all publicity is good publicity. In general, even hardcore horror types are expressing outrage that director Fyse Frake-Waterfield has crossed the line. If you didn’t see my original write up on this gem back in November, let me get you caught up.

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Knock at the Cabin (Universal Pictures, February 3)

We are a month into the new year and yet here I am writing my first post of 2023. This is the longest hiatus I have ever taken from Black Gate since beginning my tenure quite some time ago, but I have a good excuse. I recently returned from nearly a month on safari in Botswana, Zimbabwe, Mozambique and South Africa, and between some amazing animal encounters and quite a lot of fine South African wine, I collected some pretty cool tales of the supernatural. I mean sure, we have ghosts here in the US, but in Africa there are demons which cause people to build their houses a certain way just to avoid them. I’ll be sharing more on this topic in future articles.

I then came back with a very unwanted souvenir in the form of Covid, and here we are on February 2nd.

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I’ve often observed here that horror, like all forms of pop culture, moves in trends. Generally, this means an ebb and flow between the various sub-cultures of monsters. For example, 2010 saw the beginning of zombies rise in popularity with the premier of The Walking Dead, just as the Twilight movies with angsty vampires, were winding down in 2012. Since then, we’ve been through witches, clowns, ghosts/evil spirits and more traditional vampires. The odd thing about these trends is that, like black nail polish, werewolves have never been so much of a trend, as a staple of the horror genre which occasionally hits the mainstream.

Werewolves in film over the last decade tended to be in two categories; either as part of a larger story (ala Underworld, Hemlock Grove and Wednesday) or as the solo subject of indie films (The Cursed and The Forrest Hills). As a dog lover myself I find this kind of sad, and wish werewolves would get to be the stars of contemporary big-budget films like short-lived but glorious days of the early 80’s which brought us American Werewolf in London and The Howling (1981), and The Company of Wolves (1984).

Sigh…

Well, until then we will have to be content with the bones we are thrown from the small budget production houses, and this brings me to today’s news.

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Appropriately, Netflix launched its new mega-hit series Wednesday on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. This was brilliant marketing even though you might have suspected this gothic, Tim Burton creation would have been better suited for release in October. Instead, a late November release capitalized on the fact that most of us would be in some sort of carb coma Thanksgiving weekend, unable to move anything but the finger it would take to operate the TV remote. We would, therefore, be more than happy to roll up on the couch and binge-watch.

And much as it pains me to say it, the marketers were right.

According to The Hollywood Reporter, Wednesday enjoyed the biggest ever opening week for an English language series in Netflix history, overtaking the previous record set by ratings behemoth Stranger Things. Wednesday racked up a staggering 341.2 million hours of viewing globally last week, beating the previous 335 million hours set by Stranger Things season 4.

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It was 1926 when author A. A. Milne (1882-1956), wrote the children’s classic Winnie-the-Pooh followed two years later by The House at Pooh Corner. Now, as we approach the 100-year anniversary of the creation of the cuddly, inspiring bear of our youth and his little pink sidekick, two things have happened. First, according to US copyright law, Milne’s creations became public domain when they turned 95 years old and two, Milne is spinning in his grave like a rotisserie ham.

Though Pooh and friends were officially licensed by the Walt Disney Company in 1961, resulting in films and merchandising, all that went straight out the window earlier this year. A British, indie-film production company called Jagged Edge pounced on the newly instated public domain decree to reimaging all the characters in a wholly different and definitely “adult” way.

Welcome to Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey.

And no, this isn’t a joke.

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