Latest news with #TheBabadook
The Age
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
I know what you read last summer (and it was probably horror)
In the mid-2010s, moviegoers embraced the so-called 'elevated' horror boom, with films such as The Babadook, Get Out, Midsommar and The Witch at the vanguard – low-budget, high-concept genre fare that used classic horror tropes to probe contemporary societal ills like toxic relationships, racism and mental illness. (The 'elevated' label was a bit of clever rebranding, like slapping an 'organic' sticker on a hamburger; these movies function the same way great horror always has – you just feel a little less dirty about enjoying them.) Now it seems it's literature's turn. In 2023, there was a record number of new horror books both published and sold, and two years on, the trend shows little sign of slowing. Literary agents are reporting submission piles filling up with more tales of the weird and eerie, from eco-horror to folk horror to the aptly named 'femgore' – hyper-violent, female-centric body horror. In the last year alone – and this is but a tiny sliver of what's on offer – we've had Gretchen Felker-Martin's Cuckoo, which made the very real horrors of gay conversion camps manifest in a grotesque body-snatching teen epic. Rachel Harrison's So Thirsty took a big, bloody bite out of 21st-century female friendship with its ultra-gory vampire antics. The Lamb, Lucy Rose's fairytale debut, told the touching story a young girl caring for her mother … by bringing her stray hikers to satiate her cannibalistic urge for human flesh (pair it with Monika Kim's The Eyes are the Best Part for a stomach-churning family-sized feast). And 50 years after the publication of his first novel, Carrie, horror stalwart Stephen King released his latest short story anthology You Like It Darker (just months after a brand-new novel, Holly – also featuring cannibals). King isn't the only elder statesman jostling for shelf space alongside the BookTok generation. George A. Romero, the man responsible for our modern conception of zombies, with films like The Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, released his final novel earlier this year, somewhat fittingly from beyond the grave. Co-written by Daniel Kraus, who discovered the incomplete manuscript in an archive box at the University of Pittsburgh Library in 2019, Pay the Piper is a sweaty, cosmic eco-horror set in the muggy depths of the Louisiana bayou, where a nine-year-old girl named Pontiac and a rag-tag group of townsfolk from her home of Alligator Point come up against an ancient, vengeful evil that's been lurking in the swamp and preying on children. While Romero will forever be remembered primarily as an orchestrator of gnarly kills and ground-breaking special effects, his zombie movies always had more than merely brains on the brain. His seminal Night of the Living Dead is often read as a critique of racial tensions in 1960s America; it features a Black protagonist (played by Duane Jones) who survives an undead horde only to be shot by a white sheriff. The 1978 follow-up, Dawn of the Dead, set entirely in a shopping mall, can only be seen as a satirical indictment of rampant consumerism. Pay the Piper continues this tradition of smuggling hefty themes into seemingly straightforward horror schtick. Young Pontiac's home is under threat from a nefarious character known only as The Oil Man – a phantom-like stand-in for the entire fossil fuel industry – as well as The Piper itself, an aquatic Lovecraftian creature seeking restitution for the thousands of slaves slaughtered and dumped in its waters by the infamous Pirates Lafitte in the 1800s. Romero and Kraus' book mutates from gooey Southern Gothic to a full-throated treatise on human cruelty and environmental calamity; it's spooky, stirring Cajun cli-fi with a healthy dose of tentacles. Closer to home, this March saw the release of Margot McGovern's riveting supernatural YA slasher This Stays Between Us. McGovern's second book boasts a little bit of everything: early 2000s nostalgia, late-night seances, teenage crushes, buried secrets and a predatory entity known only as Smiling Jack that hunts its four young female protagonists as they try to survive year 11 camp in a remote, abandoned mining town. McGovern's first book, Neverland, released in 2018, hewed much closer to magical realism – but a life-long love of horror helped inspire her sophomore stab. 'I've always been a huge horror fan,' says McGovern. 'I read and watched a lot growing up, but there wasn't a lot of Australian horror at that time. Most of the movies came from the US. And with horror books, in the '90s it felt like you had R.L. Stine and then there was this huge gap before you jumped to Stephen King and Clive Barker.' Teen horror films filled that gap for McGovern. 'I always knew I wanted to write a book that was set here in Australia and evoked the Australian landscape and personality, but embodied all the fun of a late-90s slasher,' she says. 'Kevin Williamson's screenplays were a huge influence on me. I love Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer and Teaching Mrs. Tingle – even movies like The Craft.' Of course, the defining feature of all these movies – and many of the books already mentioned – is teenagers. In horror, teens are often the heroes, the hapless victims and the target audience all at once. 'Horror occupies this really interesting liminal space for teenagers,' McGovern says of her passion for writing YA. 'It gives you that last little bit of make-believe. 'It offers a step up into the adult world, where things can be genuinely terrifying and violent. When you're 13 or 14, you feel like things are out of your control – you're going through this huge transition, you're figuring out who you are, your body's changing, all the rules are changing! – and horror not only explores that, but gives you a way to take back some power and agency.' Perhaps that explains our present-day horror boom, then. We're all of us teenagers in a world that feels increasingly out of control – but instead of regressing into childhood and escaping into all-out fantasy, we're ready to confront our fears; to look the monster under the bed, or the creature in the swamp, or the thing in the mirror dead in the eye. 'Horror has always responded to what's happening in the culture,' McGovern says. 'I think that's part of the reason why it's making such a comeback now. In times of uncertainty and upheaval, horror offers a set of familiar tropes that lets you approach your darkest fears in an almost comforting way.'
Sydney Morning Herald
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
I know what you read last summer (and it was probably horror)
In the mid-2010s, moviegoers embraced the so-called 'elevated' horror boom, with films such as The Babadook, Get Out, Midsommar and The Witch at the vanguard – low-budget, high-concept genre fare that used classic horror tropes to probe contemporary societal ills like toxic relationships, racism and mental illness. (The 'elevated' label was a bit of clever rebranding, like slapping an 'organic' sticker on a hamburger; these movies function the same way great horror always has – you just feel a little less dirty about enjoying them.) Now it seems it's literature's turn. In 2023, there was a record number of new horror books both published and sold, and two years on, the trend shows little sign of slowing. Literary agents are reporting submission piles filling up with more tales of the weird and eerie, from eco-horror to folk horror to the aptly named 'femgore' – hyper-violent, female-centric body horror. In the last year alone – and this is but a tiny sliver of what's on offer – we've had Gretchen Felker-Martin's Cuckoo, which made the very real horrors of gay conversion camps manifest in a grotesque body-snatching teen epic. Rachel Harrison's So Thirsty took a big, bloody bite out of 21st-century female friendship with its ultra-gory vampire antics. The Lamb, Lucy Rose's fairytale debut, told the touching story a young girl caring for her mother … by bringing her stray hikers to satiate her cannibalistic urge for human flesh (pair it with Monika Kim's The Eyes are the Best Part for a stomach-churning family-sized feast). And 50 years after the publication of his first novel, Carrie, horror stalwart Stephen King released his latest short story anthology You Like It Darker (just months after a brand-new novel, Holly – also featuring cannibals). King isn't the only elder statesman jostling for shelf space alongside the BookTok generation. George A. Romero, the man responsible for our modern conception of zombies, with films like The Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, released his final novel earlier this year, somewhat fittingly from beyond the grave. Co-written by Daniel Kraus, who discovered the incomplete manuscript in an archive box at the University of Pittsburgh Library in 2019, Pay the Piper is a sweaty, cosmic eco-horror set in the muggy depths of the Louisiana bayou, where a nine-year-old girl named Pontiac and a rag-tag group of townsfolk from her home of Alligator Point come up against an ancient, vengeful evil that's been lurking in the swamp and preying on children. While Romero will forever be remembered primarily as an orchestrator of gnarly kills and ground-breaking special effects, his zombie movies always had more than merely brains on the brain. His seminal Night of the Living Dead is often read as a critique of racial tensions in 1960s America; it features a Black protagonist (played by Duane Jones) who survives an undead horde only to be shot by a white sheriff. The 1978 follow-up, Dawn of the Dead, set entirely in a shopping mall, can only be seen as a satirical indictment of rampant consumerism. Pay the Piper continues this tradition of smuggling hefty themes into seemingly straightforward horror schtick. Young Pontiac's home is under threat from a nefarious character known only as The Oil Man – a phantom-like stand-in for the entire fossil fuel industry – as well as The Piper itself, an aquatic Lovecraftian creature seeking restitution for the thousands of slaves slaughtered and dumped in its waters by the infamous Pirates Lafitte in the 1800s. Romero and Kraus' book mutates from gooey Southern Gothic to a full-throated treatise on human cruelty and environmental calamity; it's spooky, stirring Cajun cli-fi with a healthy dose of tentacles. Closer to home, this March saw the release of Margot McGovern's riveting supernatural YA slasher This Stays Between Us. McGovern's second book boasts a little bit of everything: early 2000s nostalgia, late-night seances, teenage crushes, buried secrets and a predatory entity known only as Smiling Jack that hunts its four young female protagonists as they try to survive year 11 camp in a remote, abandoned mining town. McGovern's first book, Neverland, released in 2018, hewed much closer to magical realism – but a life-long love of horror helped inspire her sophomore stab. 'I've always been a huge horror fan,' says McGovern. 'I read and watched a lot growing up, but there wasn't a lot of Australian horror at that time. Most of the movies came from the US. And with horror books, in the '90s it felt like you had R.L. Stine and then there was this huge gap before you jumped to Stephen King and Clive Barker.' Teen horror films filled that gap for McGovern. 'I always knew I wanted to write a book that was set here in Australia and evoked the Australian landscape and personality, but embodied all the fun of a late-90s slasher,' she says. 'Kevin Williamson's screenplays were a huge influence on me. I love Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer and Teaching Mrs. Tingle – even movies like The Craft.' Of course, the defining feature of all these movies – and many of the books already mentioned – is teenagers. In horror, teens are often the heroes, the hapless victims and the target audience all at once. 'Horror occupies this really interesting liminal space for teenagers,' McGovern says of her passion for writing YA. 'It gives you that last little bit of make-believe. 'It offers a step up into the adult world, where things can be genuinely terrifying and violent. When you're 13 or 14, you feel like things are out of your control – you're going through this huge transition, you're figuring out who you are, your body's changing, all the rules are changing! – and horror not only explores that, but gives you a way to take back some power and agency.' Perhaps that explains our present-day horror boom, then. We're all of us teenagers in a world that feels increasingly out of control – but instead of regressing into childhood and escaping into all-out fantasy, we're ready to confront our fears; to look the monster under the bed, or the creature in the swamp, or the thing in the mirror dead in the eye. 'Horror has always responded to what's happening in the culture,' McGovern says. 'I think that's part of the reason why it's making such a comeback now. In times of uncertainty and upheaval, horror offers a set of familiar tropes that lets you approach your darkest fears in an almost comforting way.' Loading As a genre, horror has a very structured framework. 'But then inside that, chaos and creativity abound,' McGovern says. 'We're all looking for an invitation to play – but also a safe place where we can process what's going on. And horror gives us both.'
Edinburgh Live
31-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Edinburgh Live
'Best horror film' fans have ever seen now streaming on Netflix
Our community members are treated to special offers, promotions and adverts from us and our partners. You can check out at any time. More info Boasting an impressive 98 per cent rating on Rotten Tomatoes, The Babadook is a 2014 indie psychological horror film that has garnered a cult following since its debut. The film, based on Jennifer Kent's 2005 short film Monster, was both penned and directed by Kent, marking her first foray into feature-length directing. The cast includes young Noah Wiseman as Samuel Vanek and Essie Davis delivering a compelling performance as Amelia Vanek, with Daniel Henshall, Hayley McElhinney, Barbara West, and Ben Winspear rounding out the top-notch ensemble. Currently available on Netflix, The Babadook tells the chilling tale of a widowed single mum, Essie, who, along with her son Sam, grapples with a sinister humanoid monster in their home that simply won't leave. Kent reportedly began crafting the screenplay in 2009, aiming to delve into themes of grief, parenting, and the terror of insanity. Funding for the film was sourced from Australian government grants and partially through crowdfunding. The shoot took place in Adelaide, where the crew made sure to protect six year old Wiseman from the film's eerie undertones, reports the Daily Record. (Image: PA) The eponymous monster and special effects were reportedly realised using stop-motion animation and practical effects. The film smashed the global box office, pocketing an impressive $10 million against a modest $2 million budget. Despite its worldwide success, The Babadook received a lukewarm response in Australia, managing a mere $258,000. It initially charmed audiences at its Sundance Film Festival debut in January 2014. Film buffs were utterly taken by "The Babadook," with one critic hailing it as: "One of the strongest, most effective horror films of recent years - with awards-quality lead work from Essie Davis, and a brilliantly designed new monster who could well become the break-out spook archetype of the decade." While accolades poured in with another critic branding it "one of the smartest and most effective horror films in years", yet another praised: "This psychological thriller from gifted first-time filmmaker Jennifer Kent will have you climbing the walls simply by plumbing the violence of the mind. Brace yourself." (Image: FREE FILM STILL / FREE TO USE) Praise wasn't in short supply, with one saying: "Let a law be passed, requiring all horror films to be made by female directors." Another added: "Manages to deliver real, seat-grabbing jolts while also touching on more serious themes of loss, grief and other demons that can not be so easily vanquished." Cinema-goers echoed critics' sentiments, with one praising: "Excellent, suspenseful movie with incredible acting, especially from the child actor. This movie, at 10 years old already, will be a classic. The Rotten Tomato score is SPOT ON with 98%!". One viewer was thoroughly impressed, writing: "This is definitely one of the best horror movies I've ever seen. Not only was it terrifying, but it really made me care about the characters. I highly recommend it for horror fans!". Another enthusiast couldn't contain their enthusiasm, writing in all caps: "ONE OF THE MOST PERFECT MOVIES I'VE EVER SEEN! This film was no joke! Although no jump scares, this movie has proven that you don't need cheep jump scares and gore to make a proper horror film. The performances of the two characters and the atmosphere of everything is what made this movie truly terrifying in it's own ways. One other thing to mention is the emotional story that grabs you from start to finish. The Babadook is a unique work of cinema unlike anything you've ever seen! What a masterpiece!". Meanwhile, another viewer admitted a change of heart: "I made fun of this movie when I first watched it. Until it was late at night and I was trying to fall I ate my words."
Daily Record
31-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Record
Netflix horror with near perfect rating 'so terrifying it taps into everyone's deepest fears'
This 2014 psychological horror film with a 98 per cent score on Rotten Tomatoes has become a cult classic With a near-perfect 98 per cent score on Rotten Tomatoes, The Babadook is a 2014 indie psychological horror film that has achieved cult classic status in the years since its release. Based on Jennifer Kent's 2005 short film Monster, The Babadook is written and directed by Kent and marks her feature directorial debut. Starring the young Noah Wiseman as Samuel Vanek and Essie Davis in a powerful performance as Amelia Vanek, the actors are supported by Daniel Henshall, Hayley McElhinney, Barbara West, and Ben Winspear, completing a stellar ensemble cast. Currently streaming on Netflix, The Babadook is the story of a widowed single mother, Essie, who along with her son Sam, finds herself confronting a mysterious human-like monster in their home that refuses to go away. It's reported that Kent began writing the film's screenplay back in 2009 with intentions of exploring the themes of grief, parenting, and the fear of madness. Financing for the film came from Australian government grants and partially through crowdfunding. Filming took place in Adelaide, where the production team took care to shield Wiseman — who was six at the time — from the movie's unsettling themes. The titular monster and special effects were reportedly brought to life using stop-motion animation and practical effects. The movie proved to be a success at the global box office, grossing $10 million against its budget of $2 million. Surprisingly, The Babadook didn't do well in its home country of Australia, grossing only a dismal $258,000. The movie first premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January 2014. Critics were left floored by the film, with one saying it was: 'One of the strongest, most effective horror films of recent years - with awards-quality lead work from Essie Davis, and a brilliantly designed new monster who could well become the break-out spook archetype of the decade.' While one critic said it's 'one of the smartest and most effective horror films in years', another wrote: 'This psychological thriller from gifted first-time filmmaker Jennifer Kent will have you climbing the walls simply by plumbing the violence of the mind. Brace yourself.' Another reviewer lauded the film's director and said: 'Let a law be passed, requiring all horror films to be made by female directors.' Yet another critical review of the film says: 'Manages to deliver real, seat-grabbing jolts while also touching on more serious themes of loss, grief and other demons that can not be so easily vanquished.' Audience reviews for The Babadook follow in the same theme, with one viewer commenting: 'Excellent, suspenseful movie with incredible acting, especially from the child actor. This movie, at 10 years old already, will be a classic. The Rotten Tomato score is SPOT ON with 98%!' While one viewer wrote: 'This is definitely one of the best horror movies I've ever seen. Not only was it terrifying, but it really made me care about the characters. I highly recommend it for horror fans!' Another commented in caps lock excitement: "ONE OF THE MOST PERFECT MOVIES I'VE EVER SEEN! This film was no joke! Although no jump scares, this movie has proven that you don't need cheep jump scares and gore to make a proper horror film. The performances of the two characters and the atmosphere of everything is what made this movie truly terrifying in it's own ways. One other thing to mention is the emotional story that grabs you from start to finish. The Babadook is a unique work of cinema unlike anything you've ever seen! What a masterpiece!" And one viewer simply said: 'I made fun of this movie when I first watched it. Until it was late at night and I was trying to fall I ate my words.'
The Guardian
26-01-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
The Thing with Feathers review – Benedict Cumberbatch's grief horror falls apart
The messiness of grief, something most of us know too well, has been given a smoothing effect on screen, an experience so awful and unpleasant made easily, annoyingly palatable. The cliches that have come to define it have become so normalised that we often forget what it's really like to see the horrible, frightening reality shown to us. On the page, and stage, Max Porter's novella Grief is the Thing with Feathers was for many, a fantastical yet identifiable story of loss, the tale of a father losing his wife transformed into a dark, magical fable of transformative horror. Its central conceit – a giant crow haunting the aftermath of death – was such a compelling visual that, despite the pitfalls that come with adapting something so beloved, the big screen felt like a natural next step. In his introduction before the adaptation's late-night Sundance premiere, writer and director Dylan Southern (whose work has previously focused on music documentaries) informed us that this would be no traditional grief drama, a subgenre one has come to often glumly expect from the festival. This would be something far more unusual. But The Thing with Feathers, a film that uses the word grief so much already that it was wisely removed from the title, is not as radical as those behind it might like to think. It's actually surprisingly, sometimes boringly, conventional, not just as a grounded drama of loss but as a metaphorical horror too, a trend that was given a new lease of life with 2014's The Babadook, which also premiered at Sundance (Benedict Cumberbatch's father even reads his sons a story involving the similar-sounding tale of the Slavic creature Baba Yaga, a perhaps unwise pre-bedtime choice given its themes). While Jennifer Kent found a way to make her film operate so effectively on both levels, Southern just can't figure out the right balance. It's never scary or jolting enough as a horror or as emotionally investing or psychologically insightful as it should be as a drama. What's crucially missing is detail, both in the characters themselves and the weight of what they're going through, red flags all the way up in an overly familiar introductory stretch following the unseen funeral. Cumberbatch's unnamed Dad is struggling already, forgetting the milk and burning the toast, his late wife having taken on 'everything' before she died. While a more traditionally common dynamic that it should be, there's not much interrogation of this unfair imbalance and what it really means for who the character was and now has to be (bar one flashback to Dad taking out his young sons in the snow in improper attire). There's nothing lived-in about Southern's recycled view of Dad's grief – screaming down the phone, refusing to clean the kitchen, dealing with well-intentioned yet inappropriate offers of support – and also nothing to remember about the anonymously written wife and mother who has gone, described as someone kind who smelled nice. The arrival of a menacing creature is therefore a desperately needed uplift as Dad starts to lose his grip on reality, faced with a David Thewlis-voiced menace, mocking him as he tries to push his new life on, caring for his two interchangeable sons while working on his latest graphic novel. But there's no real progress or substance to the confusingly paced relationship, a repetitive cycle of ineffective jump scares and smugly sardonic putdowns that fail to show how Dad is benefitting or changing from this new addition to the family. Like the book, the film is sectioned (Dad, Boys, Crow and Demon) and while a perspective shift seems to follow each time, it soon fades and we're back in the same, increasingly uninteresting, routine (the arrival of the wonderful Vinette Robinson is also sadly just a brief tease). There's a proudly absurd streak to many of the scenes (Southern used the word 'ridiculous' before the film) with Cumberbatch dancing and fighting with Crow while also taking on elements of his sounds and physicality himself. But it all feels a little dated, not as anarchic or as twisted as it's presented as, and somehow far less effective than something that's far less pretentious like Venom. Like Tom Hardy in those films, Cumberbatch is admirably committed yet the rather embarrassing silliness he's forced into can't be pulled off, especially since it remains unclear what or who Crow really is and wants, a character as underwritten as Dad. Cumberbatch's performance is certainly all-in but restricted by the limited nature of the script – cry, scream, scribble, repeat – and so he's left as visibly exhausted as we are. What one hopes for in a film about something so utterly terrible is that sink of sadness to set in, the pang that makes you feel for those you're watching while maybe also thinking of those you've lost yourself. The worst thing about The Thing with Feathers, a film that's supposedly about the all-consuming horror of grief, is that it never comes, not even for a second, a story about loss that fatally loses us first. The Thing with Feathers is screening at the Sundance film festival and is seeking distribution
