{"id":8532,"date":"2011-11-22T09:00:05","date_gmt":"2011-11-22T09:00:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/?p=8532"},"modified":"2011-11-22T09:00:05","modified_gmt":"2011-11-22T09:00:05","slug":"guest-interview-talking-horror-with-theatre-of-the-damned-part-22","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/badreputation.org.uk\/2011\/11\/22\/guest-interview-talking-horror-with-theatre-of-the-damned-part-22\/","title":{"rendered":"[Guest Interview] Talking Horror with Theatre of the Damned (Part 2\/2)"},"content":{"rendered":"
Tom Richards<\/strong><\/a> and Stewart Pringle<\/strong><\/a> are the co-artistic directors of Theatre of the Damned<\/strong><\/a>, creators of the London Horror Festival<\/strong><\/a>, and the co-directors and
writers of The Revenge of the Grand Guignol<\/strong><\/a>, which is running
until 27th November at London’s Courtyard Theatre in
Hoxton.<\/p>\n
Here guest blogger Lydia<\/strong><\/a> continues yesterday’s
interview<\/a> about representations of women in horror, and
what it’s been like resurrecting Grand
Guignol<\/a> for a modern audience…<\/p>\n
<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n
So, we’ve just got done talking about the rise of
the ‘saw a woman in half’ phenomenon –
seems like there are both political\u00a0 and practical
reasons why horror can fall into misogyny. Is this stuff
as common as people think?<\/strong><\/p>\n
Tom:<\/strong> There\u2019s tons of it. Tons and
tons. We choose not to put on plays like that as
they don\u2019t interest us, but in the 1940s and
50s when the Grand Guignol was trying to compete
with Hammer<\/em>, they wrote pure exploitation crap.
It\u2019s true of all kinds of horror: you can
tell a form is dying when it spills out pure
sexualised violence. It doesn\u2019t take much
money or skill to produce, but it sells, so the
lower end of the horror market is flooded with
this kind of thing.<\/p>\n
Stew:<\/strong> The nadir of all creative
horror genres, periods of productivity, and
exciting works always end with women being
hacked up. Bad horror tends towards unthinking
misogyny and ultraviolence.<\/p>\n
Tom:<\/strong> The
Friday the 13th<\/strong> sequels, for
example, are aimed at teenage boys who
want to see tits and gore. It\u2019s not
that they’re interested in
sexualised violence itself, or damaging
women; in fact anything emotionally
realistic would probably upset or
disturb them – they just want as
much sex and as much violence as
possible within a given time
span.<\/p>\n
<\/a>Stew:<\/strong> For those cynical
sequel makers, women are just a
convenient vessel for both tits and
blood. A lot of the women being
killed are topless or have recently
been topless, or are even
mid-coitus. We\u2019re seeing it
again now in the torture porn genre
\u2013 a term people argue with, but
I think it’s completely
accurate. In
Hostel<\/strong> for example, all
we\u2019re seeing is girls chosen
for their looks being chopped
up.<\/p>\n
Tom:<\/strong> More than that
– they’re being
chopped up in such a way that
it\u2019s clear it\u2019s
supposed to be a turn-on.
Because the films have decent
production values, it\u2019s
harder to spot. The people
producing this stuff are far
more competent with a camera
and effects than whatever
clown the studios hired to
make
Friday the 13th<\/strong>
part 8. So instead of being
a sequence of disjointed
tat, it lovingly focuses on
the bodies, on the violence,
in a style that is erotic in
and of itself.<\/p>\n
Stew:<\/strong> What
we\u2019re refuting
here, and in our
theatre, is that these
stereotypes are
intrinsic to horror.
It\u2019s a lot more
interesting than that.
Horror is what occurs at
the negative extremity
of human experience: the
points at which we
don\u2019t understand
something, can\u2019t
cope with something, or
are driven to actions
that are well outside
the boundaries of normal
behaviour. That covers
everything from
hauntings to murder and
massacres, death, and
losing your mind.
Anything that we are not
fit to cope with can
produce horror. It can
go as far as Lovecraft
and involve gods from
beyond time, or it can
be a woman killing her
child. Violence can be a
part of it, but
it\u2019s not
necessary.<\/p>\n
Tom:<\/strong> You
can have extreme
violence without
horror. There are
places the two cross
over. You could have
a legitimate
discussion about
whether, say,
Rambo
<\/strong>is a
horror film,
because it is
undoubtedly a film
that sets out to
be
horrific.<\/p>\n
Stew:
<\/strong>And
then there are
films which
use the tropes
of horror but
are not
horror. Shaun
of the Dead is
very gory, and
terrible
things happen,
but really
it\u2019s not
a horror film
because it
doesn\u2019t
exist to
horrify.<\/p>\n
Tom:<\/strong>
There are
a lot of
horror
comedies
where
horror
provides a
kind of
desktop
theme
–
the styles
and
shapes,
but not
the core.
And then
you have
true
horror
comedies
like
Drag Me
To
Hell<\/strong>
and
almost
all of
Sam
Raimi\u2019s
films:
genuinely
scary,
genuinely
unnerving
and
deeply
funny.<\/p>\n
Those
cross-genre
films
are
often
the
ones
that
freak
me
out
the
most
–
you
get
more
involved
and
don\u2019t
know
what
to
expect
or
what\u2019s
expected
of
you.<\/strong><\/p>\n
Tom:<\/strong>
Grand
Guignol
scripts
often
work
towards
implicating
an
audience
and
making
it
disgusted
with
itself
–
it
works
you
up
so
that
you\u2019re
desperate
for
the
payoff,
so
you
want
to
see
mayhem;
you
want
to
see
everything
destroyed.
It
reveals
a
lot
about
people
and
it\u2019s
fascinating,
but
you
have
to
be
careful
not
to
be
merely
titillating
–
if
they\u2019re
never
revolted
by
it
then
they\u2019ll
never
really
face
the
facet
of
themselves
that
wanted
it.
When
it\u2019s
successful,
it
exposes
some
fucked
up
inner
feelings
buried
in
the
audience\u2019s
subconscious
and
assumptions.<\/p>\n