|
|
By KC Herbel, on June 29, 2012, 4:32 pm  Charlie Chaplin - The Great Dictator Readers get to know literary characters through the descriptions of their appearance and actions, their speech patterns in dialog with other characters and themselves, observations/statements by other characters (or the narrator), and sometimes directly from the character’s thoughts and emotions. The art behind this information-download process is known as characterization.
There are two methods to convey characterization information to the reader.
Direct Characterization. In this method (also known as explicit characterization), the reader learns directly from the narrator/author all about the character’s personality and traits. This is not always a bad thing, as a first person POV narrator might relay his own observations and conclusions about the character. In this way, we not only learn about the character being described, but something about the narrator himself. In telling his audience directly about another character, the narrator may reveal their own biases and attitudes. Of course, if the narrator is unreliable, then the reader should be cautious in accepting their conclusions.
Indirect Characterization. In this method (a.k.a. implicit characterization), the reader must come to their own conclusions about the character, based upon observation of his or her actions, speech, and sometimes thoughts. This is at the heart of the ”show, don’t tell” writing maxim. Again, the reader might be wrong in their interpretation of the events offered by the narrator, or even purposely misled into assuming something erroneous about the character in order to make a point or further a mystery, but ultimately it is the author’s job to provide all the necessary information to make a clearly defined character, complete with well motivated actions and words.
Where’s the goal line?
The goal of good characterization is for the reader to empathize with the characters so much that they feel and desire the same things as the characters (especially the protagonist) and that they seem entirely realistic. This is achieved by creating complex characters and steering clear of flat, stereotyped characters. This may be accomplished through the way they look and dress (don’t forget attitude can show), or the way they talk (word choice, accent, and syntax patterns). Generally speech is a dead giveaway to personality and history. It relays the character’s attitudes, emotions, education, and origins. Their thought patterns should likewise be well anchored in personality.
What works?
The interesting character will say and do unpredictable things that still originate in their fully-realized personality, which has been shaped by past experiences. One method for staying away from stereotypes is to take the stereotype and stand it on its head (do something surprising, counter-intuitive and unique). The unexpected is more interesting and makes the reader want to read more, especially when it comes to characters, but remember the unexpected must always be explainable and eventually explained. The manner in which a character responds to a special circumstance or incident will tell us quite a lot about a character. When confronted with a terrifying or horrific incident, do they run towards or away from danger? Why? The answer is likely at the very core of the character and will reveal their true nature.
Remember.
Villains are characters too and require strong complex and exciting personalities. The more developed they are, the more compelling the conflict between them and your hero will be. Secondary characters also require some development in order to avoid boring your audience and not break the reality of the story.
One last thing to help your characters stand out is choosing for them an appropriate name – one that fits their personality, is easily pronounced and hard to forget (perhaps something ironic, funny or dramatic). This goes for all characters: big or small, good or evil. A character’s name may proceed them like a reputation and linger after they’ve left the stage, even haunt your readers long after they’ve put down your story.
Please make a comment below about characterization…I dare you! 
By KC Herbel, on June 24, 2012, 10:00 pm  Sand People From a Distance In literature, the story teller (or narrator) is responsible for telling the reader all the information the author wants the reader to know about the story. They are the eyes, ears and voice of the story. In fact, it is only through the narrator that you receive all sensory input from the story world. The point of view (POV) of the story is the perspective by which the author allows the reader to receive that input. In other words, is the narrator removed from the action, close to the action, or someone up to their eyeballs in it? Are they an observer or an actor? Are they emotionally involved or an unbiased reporter (if there is such a thing)? Through POV, the author controls precisely what the reader is focused on at any given time, with the narrator acting as a filter.
You see, the narrator is a character too, even if they are not directly addressed in the story. The narrator has a personality and, you can bet, a unique perspective on the events of the story. This perspective will color how the story is told and ultimately how the reader feels about it. This can be the deciding factor in choosing the right POV for each story or scene.
- POV is broken down into three basic categories.
First Person. The first person narrator is telling you the story from the perspective of an eye witness. They are or were there and can tell you everything they experienced. This narrator uses the terms “I”, “me”, “my”, “mine” when describing their actions and experiences. They can also share their thoughts and reflections on events. The first person narrator is often the protagonist of his own story, but not always. One of my current projects is a novel I feel needs to be told by an eyewitness, the main character’s grandson, thus I am pursuing the story using the first person. Only time will tell if I am right.
Second Person. The second person narrator uses the terms “you” and ”your” to directly address the reader. This rarest form of POV is an attempt to make the reader feel they are a participant in the story, not just an observer or someone listening to a tale. The author wants the reader to feel the immediacy of the story. Perhaps there is a level of excitement, fear, joy, anger or say creepiness that the writer wants the reader to be intimate with.
Third Person. The third person narrator uses the terms “he” or “she” (possibly “it”) to describe what the protagonist or character of focus is doing. This is the most commonly used POV. This narrator is not an active participant in the story, but an interested observer.
- There are four additional considerations for POV.
Objective Narrator. An objective narrator describes the story’s events, characters and dialog and relays the necessary sensory information with no (or at least very little) opinion. They’re a detached reporter of facts. This narrator also does not share any information about what goes on in the minds of the characters. They are much like you and I when observing others. We can not absolutely know the motivations and thoughts of other people. Therefore, with an objective narrator, the reader must draw their own conclusions about the characters’ motivations and feelings by careful observation of their actions and dialog. This method would be difficult to pull off coupled with anything but third person POV.
Omniscient Narrator. An omniscient narrator describes all the action the objective narrator does, but has the advantage of knowing all the histories, thoughts and feeling of all the characters in the story. They are also privy to events that may have happened in the distant past, or in a location away from the main action, or events in the future, and can share or hint at such information if they desire. This additional knowledge can be used to foreshadow events, justify actions, or make the reader more intimate with the characters. This supernatural perspective is primarily used with the third person POV, but could possibly be used with the others (to dubious affect – not recommended unless your narrator has god-like powers).
Limited Omniscient Narrator. A narrator with limited omniscience is much like the omniscient narrator, but their perspective and special knowledge about the characters’ thoughts and feelings are restricted to one character (or at least one character at a time). The nice thing about limited omniscience is that your readers can get to know your protagonist at a deeper level through direct contact with their thoughts and emotions and still have access to things that occur outside their limited experiences. However, a story is better when you show rather than tell, and that goes for all POVs. Limited omniscient third person has been my favorite POV for writing, but that’s in large part due to the stories I like to tell and my own discomfort with first and second person narrators. I do enjoy reading the other POVs when done well.
Unreliable Narrator. The unreliable narrator is primarily a factor in first person POV stories and is the opposite of an objective narrator. The narrator is obviously interested in telling what they saw and heard, but you are hearing it second hand. Are they a little too eager to tell you what happened in a key event or their opinions about a certain character? Are they painting themselves only in the best light – much like an unrepentant criminal being questioned by law enforcement? Maybe they’re leaving out information detrimental to their case, or maybe they simply don’t know the truth. Perhaps they are a child describing grown up activities they don’t understand. The unreliable narrator might not intend to be unreliable, they might just be out of their league. They could also be a habitual liar. Can you tell what’s really going on by the narrator’s observations or actions? What about the other characters? Even a liar may slip up and leave clues. It’s up to the reader to determine how much of what the narrator says is true, how much is biased, and how much is simply misinformed.
It is a good practice to pick one POV per story and stick to it. The alternative can lead to confusion for the reader and thus spoil an otherwise enjoyable story. Of course some stories will be better served by alternating the POV of the narrator (from one character to the next). My advice: the POV should be from the character with the most at stake in the given scene (generally the protagonist). And never change from first person to third or vice versa, or any other change in POV category within a story.
Please leave me your input on POV. What’s your favorite POV as a reader and writer? Do your reading and writing preferences differ? What’s the POV of your favorite stories?
By KC Herbel, on June 22, 2012, 7:00 pm  Street Alley The following is another “hysterical-fiction” blog on the English language, lifted from my old Myspace page (cringe) back in ’07 (ugh). Once again, it appears unaltered from the original posting save a quick spell-check. (No dust mites were harmed in the dusting off of this text.) Now on with the entertainment!
Greetings.
Since my recent blog about the origins of bowling alleys, I have been bombarded by questions about the latter part of that great institution: the alley. Please forgive me for not explaining this at that time, but I felt it was a bit off topic; the alley having a much older (but richer) history than the before mentioned and later adaptation, known as the bowling alley, and that, in its own right, was a bit lengthy in the explanation.
As stated, the alley had its beginnings in a much earlier time. In those ancient and darkened days, there was little to differentiate the spaces between rooms, as most buildings only had one room in which all the activities of an entire family, clan, or corporation would take place. That said, with the advent of various warlords, Mafioso’s, and property developers and their franchises came their need to expand their one-room hovels and annex those of the surrounding neighbors; a sometimes bloody affair. This was hard at first, as the neighbors, their kin, or shareholders kept coming back once they had been given the boot, and thus the greedy land grabbers resorted to connecting and enclosing the areas around the buildings with walls and defensible battlements. These conglomerations eventually came to be called “castles,” but much later: about 4:30 in the afternoon, on August 12th, 317A.D., Worcestershire, Pre-England-England, when John the tailor, heard John the blacksmith tell John the shepherd, “The Yarl’s got an awful large…castle thingy over there.” Thus using the word “castle” for the first time in recorded history and dubbing the dubious structure simultaneously. (Why this secondhand conversation was recorded at all is not known, nor is it known why ever man in Worcestershire seemed to be named John, but that’s a tale for another time.) Getting back to the alley…
As I was saying, it was hard to differentiate the spaces between rooms, until one John Hall, of Dorchester, was sentenced by his liege lord to clean all the narrower spaces between the different rooms and buildings of his commandeered abode, and thus these passages became known as “Hallways” for obvious reasons. Soon after, all narrow spaces between rooms and buildings, throughout northern Europe, became known as hallways.
Now, the more affluent of the people began to build many-roomed edifices for their homes and businesses, thus making their hallways enclosed. The difference between these inner hallways and outer hallways was little to none, as even some outer hallways had roofs (or partial roofs) and paving stones for floors, which were sometimes better than those built indoors. It is said that the only way one had of telling they were outside in these hallways was by the lack of tapestries. This was further confounded by the existence of open market weavers, who showed their wares by hanging them on the walls outside their shops. It was a very confusing time and many people were lost. That is to say, that in their state of confusion, they couldn’t find their way home. It was during this time that the first “hall monitors” (or “hallway monitors” as they were known then) appeared.
Amid all this confusion and mayhem it eventually became recognized that the poorer chaps who primarily lived in and used the outside hallways, and were hardly ever seen indoors, were indeed calling them “allways,” a point, which up to this juncture had been believed to be due to bad hearing, but was in fact due their rather Monty-Pythonesque cockney accents. This different pronunciation was immediately jumped on by all parties, except for the chaps who had been using it all along, and all agreed to use hallways when indoors and allways, when out. For a time, it all went along swimmingly, the people secure in the knowledge that they would never be confused again about being in a hallway or allway. Things at this point were pretty good. Peace had returned to the once turbulent continent. (It must be noted that the American Indians were blissfully unaware of this whole conundrum and would never have to face the stress of it, since the helpful Europeans who came to their land, and bought it for glass trinkets, had already ironed out all the problems by the time they arrived.)
As I was saying, all was well, until someone stumbled upon confusion once again when explaining that they, “always went to the allways, for a quick beer and a brawl, on Monday night.” This problematic use of “always,” and “allways,” became more and more problematic as more and more men found their way to brawling allways more frequently. (You must remember that the NFL and Monday Night Football were awaiting invention in the yet to be discovered wonderland of the Americas.) Then to further exasperate the issue, someone stupidly said, “All ways lead to Rome.” He was, of course, exiled to Crete and the phrase was changed to “all roads.” But it was too late and the damage had been done. There were simply too many similar sounding expressions to “allway” than could be tolerated. Something had to be done.
The problem was analyzed by the finest minds that Europe had to offer at the time (which isn’t saying much, since the finest minds had yet to come up with something as necessary as toilet paper). What they cam up with was brilliant for people who didn’t appreciate, much less know about, toilet paper. It seems that the “w” in those days was actually represented by two “u”s (double u’s), and written as two “v”s (A “u” was written as a “v” too, but no one dared to represented a “v” in any form. It was instead left as a line, much like modern Jews leave out the vowels in the name of G-d, which was later changed to a line with a slight bend downward in the middle, the bend becoming more exaggerated as years passed.) The entire “u”-”v” controversy had been raging for decades already and these fine scholars, so fed up with the prospect of having to untangle two controversies at once, simply dropped the “w” or “vv” from the word entirely. This seemed to please everyone, for only the French and Spaniards had a word sounding anything like “allay,” and so the official change from with-”w” to without-”w” was documented.
Unfortunately, while printing up the official documents for the new spelling and pronunciation, the official printer’s letter “a” was found to be missing (if anything can be “found to be missing”). He therefore quickly substituted the “a” for an “e” leading to the modern spelling of “alley”. Once published and spread throughout Europe and the greater burg area this new spelling became accepted and loved by all. Although they still pronounced it “all-ee”, this was not a problem until the 1200′s when the Muslim faith was encountered by crusaders. It was these war-wizened, Christian men who made the final pronunciation adjustment to the modern “al’ee”, in order to differentiate it from the Muslim “Ali”.
Now you see why I did not include this rather lengthy explanation along with that of the origins of the bowling alley. I hope that it’s all clear now and you can see, with a heightened appreciation, the grandeur, majesty and great planning, which transpired to bring you (free of charge) your modern English language, which until now you have probably taken for granted.
 Big Trouble Little Alley
By KC Herbel, on June 20, 2012, 10:09 pm 
As I was making a list of my 50 favorite horror crossover films, it suddenly struck me how many films, classified by most as science fiction, have a large horror/terror component to them. In fact, I had a difficult time not wanting to classify many of my favorite sci-fi movies as horror or at least horror crossovers. Alien is the perfect example. I have friends (really I do) who consider Alien strictly science fiction, but take a close look at the dark interiors, and the horrifying creature stalking the trapped crew – always just out of site. The reveals (or peeks) of the creature are more like something out of a classic horror/slasher film. And let’s not forget the first ever chest-burster debut! In fact all the sci-fi elements play second fiddle to the monster/alien. The movie starts out like a science fiction movie, but rapidly accelerates towards the horror side of the scale with every frame past the discovery of the crashed alien ship on the planet’s surface (a ship which I believe appears in the prequel, Prometheus). But I digress.
Sub-genres or Categories
It is my contention that most if not all sci-fi flicks fall into 5 basic sub-genres/categories:
1. Adventure/Opera: Star Trek [2009], Space Cowboys [2000], Cowboys and Aliens [2011], Star Wars [1977]
2. Discovery/Exploration: Stargate [1994], First Men in the Moon [1964], Time Machine [1960,2002]
3. Psychological/Bizarre: Pandorum [2009], Event Horizon [1997], Virus [1999], Doctor Who [?]
4. Humor/Farce: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy [2005], Dark Star [1974], Galaxy Quest [1999], Spaceballs [1987]
5. Primarily Horror: Alien [1979], Invasion of the Body Snatchers [1978], I Am Legend [2007]
(Obviously, this list is not all-inclusive, and films exist that cover multiple categories, but it should give you a pretty good idea of my categories.)
So what is the terror:sci-fi equation?
As I examine the above examples of science fiction, I see that all but the humor/farce films have elements of horror. (I would entertain the argument that even the humorous films have some element of horror or fear – though mocked or made melodrama.) Whether it’s villains, aliens, or just surviving the hazards of space and mad science experiments, the danger and the terror is there. So what is it about science fiction that makes us turn it into nightmares? We could be creating images of a Utopian world in which aliens and/or science has conquered all evils, and all sentients live in peace and harmony…but lets face it, that’s boring!
It’s much more interesting to create Dystopia, man-made monsters, science experiments gone terribly wrong, and aliens that want to eat our face off. Perhaps we secretly fear there is something intrinsically wrong with science. Honestly, despite our public schools (or because of our public schools), most people have very little understanding of science – especially the hard sciences; the kind required to make space travel and human-like robots a reality. We fear what we can’t understand.
We also fear the unknown (perhaps more than anything else), and if science teaches us anything, it is that there is a great deal we do not know – about “life, the universe and everything”*. This ability of humans to examine our fears, put them under a microscope, indulge them, poke them with a 1,000 megawatt cattle prod, and even seek them out on a regular basis, is truly amazing. Why do we do this to ourselves? Is it the thrill? Heck yes! Why else? Apparently, since saber-tooth tigers went extinct, life just isn’t exciting enough for us so we invent ways to make it so. One of those ways is by living vicariously through others – including characters in cave paintings, folk tales, books, movies and TV. We just can’t get enough fear. If we were in isolation and our brains were wired with a button to activate fear, we’d push that button rather than feel nothing. I suspect many of us might even become addicted. Perhaps we are already addicted. So, in order to reach the intensity that makes our earthly existence bearable, and in lieu of wiring our brains, sci-fi fans amp it up with healthy doses of horror.
What does all this amount to?
The possibilities presented by science fiction are interesting, but not so much so that we’re willing to pay to sit in a dark theatre without the thrill of adrenaline. The more real the fear the better we like it. I believe this fear transforms us, giving us the power to move beyond the barrier of the screen and live on the other side, if only for a little while. And life on the other side of the screen is full of deliciously terrifying possibilities (sans button).
On a personal note: I can’t wait to see what horror Ridley Scott has cooked up in Prometheus! I’m pushing my button right now, just to make sure my fear is in good shape.
* “Life, the universe, and everything,” is a quote from Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series.
Please, don’t be afraid to comment with your thoughts or pet-fears!
By KC Herbel, on June 19, 2012, 12:01 am  The plot thickens. “That movie had no plot!”
“This book has the greatest plot!”
You’ve undoubtedly heard or expressed similar words of frustration or praise, but what is this thing we call “plot” and what makes one story great and another make you wish you could get back your wasted time?
Generally, we think of plot as the actions in a story that take us from point A (the beginning) to point B (the end). But surely there must be more to it than that. You could write a story about a bus trip from one town to another; the trip goes without a hitch, the bus doesn’t stop or breakdown, no one talks to anyone, no one gets sick, or has gas, spills a drink, or makes annoying sounds, and since it’s dark outside there is no scenery to keep your narrator and/or protagonist from falling asleep (or your audience for that matter). You have now gone from point A to point B, but if nothing interesting happened along the way, would you still call it a plot? Would you even call it a story? Of course not. The lack of anything interesting or engaging has stripped your story of anything resembling a plot and it has become a flat, boring line. It’s so flat in fact that it’s invisible to all but theoretical mathmeticians. In the story scenario described, there is no plot. There are no obstacles to overcome, no interesting characters or conversations to listen in on, there are no interesting thoughts being relayed. We’re not even interested in the protagonist. We are not engaged.
So, for there to be a viable plot, we need to be engaged. Something interesting has to happen, if not outside the protagonist, then inside. Something has to be said that makes us care what happens to the protagonist, or the other characters, or even the bus. We must care, and care about what happens next. But it is still not enough for the audience to simply care what happens next, something must actually happen (again, if not outside then inside). If the writer can somehow get us emotionally involved with the characters, but still nothing happens to them (nothing changes) on their trip from A to B, who cares? It’s not really a story. At most, it’s a character sketch. Nothing more than a snapshot. If the occurrences on our bus aren’t interesting to the audience then your back to flatsville…and you’re alone on the side of the road with a broke-down story. The item that’s missing is a little thing called “conflict”.
Conflict happens when things don’t go according to plan – but not just anybody’s plan. The plan the audience should care about the fulfillment of is the protagonist’s plan. Generally this plan centers on some kind of imbalance in the protagonist’s world. It could be that he was born into a world where things have always been wrong or perhaps things were once good, but have recently become detrimental to the protagonist’s way of life and he must set out to find the cure for his ailing world, or at least find an answer to why things are the way they are. On the other hand, the protagonist might only be interested in going from town A to town B (he’s in town A but needs to be in town B), but the problems that arise to get in his way of accomplishing this are the conflicts that will fuel your plot. It could be that the bus breaks down, or he gets beat up in the bathroom and misses the bus he had planned to ride. Perhaps he whitnesses a crime and gets off the bus to stop it, or sees someone who hurt him in the past. Will he be get back on the bus? Will he die? Basically anything that makes it difficult for him to accomplish the original goal is good for creating conflict, and concern in your audience. Now, if this is a “character driven” story, the things that happen to your protagonist will have the largest affects on him internally. On the outside, he might arrive seemingly unchanged, but on the inside, he’s undergone change, he’s altered his attitude about something important to him. Perhaps he only intended to go from one town to the next to accomplish some simple task or mission, but by the time he’s arrived, he’s got a different attitude about that task or maybe even about life. It doesn’t really matter if your protagonist is able to complete the task he’s set out to accomplish, the story has been about what happened to him on the way there (the journey). He could even turn around and get back on the bus and go home without doing anything. Believe it or not, sometimes a simple bus ride can change your life.
An important element of the plot equation is escalation. Without discussing three-act structure or any other theory of story telling we can agree that the best stories build suspense (and audience interest) by intensifying the conflicts until there is a “climax” where everything breaks lose and the protagonist must fit the broken pieces into some semblance of an answer to the question that originally set him out on his journey (unless he’s dead, in which case the narrator must help us figure out what it was all about and whether it was worth it). This section is known as the denouement, and if you’ve done right by your plot up to this point it should pretty much take care of itself. In order for the conflicts to escalate, there must be something at stake for the protagonist and the stakes should also escalate as the story progresses, each passing conflict increasing in intensity and pressure on the protagonist. If you are familiar with refining metal, then you know that the smith must put the metal under intense heat in order to refine it. It is the same with protagonists in successful story telling. They must undo go some change in position or mind (hopefully both) when exposed to the heat of conflict, being refined (or better defined) in some way. Only then will they truly fulfil their purpose to the plot.
Lastly, there needs to be a point to all this – a point to your story, otherwise it’s just words. Your audience has sat through your story, now they need their reward. Make sure there is one. When you’re planning your story, make sure your plot is one that will lead the audience to where you want them to be at the end. If all you’re doing is traveling from point A to point B, then your story really has no point. In story telling, it’s the journey that matters. It’s the journey that will be remembered. And it’s the journey that should leave the audience thinking or feeling something (hopefully something new).
In conclusion, for a story to be viable the plot needs to:
- engage the audience (we should care about the characters)
- have something noteworthy happen (and keep happening – even if it’s internal)
- make the audience care about what happens next (each conflict should further plot)
- have plenty of conflict (the more, the better)
- be meaningful to the protagonist (he must have a goal and something at stake)
- have stakes that escalate (turn up the heat on your protagonist)
- have a point (why was this story worth telling/reading)
Please leave a comment and discuss you own thoughts on plot. I look forward to reading and/or responding to them.
By KC Herbel, on June 16, 2012, 12:53 am 
This is simply a list of my favorite horror “crossover” films (the top 50), much like my previous Favorite-Film lists (for fantasy and sci-fi). The films included are all films I consider horror films that “crossover” into either fantasy (including the supernatural) or sci-fi. While there were many other horror films I considered (Silence of the Lambs, Red Dragon, Jaws, etc.), if they didn’t have a strong fantasy/sci-fi component, they didn’t make this list. I also tried to stay away from spoofy/humorous/superhero films unless they were innovative or very entertaining. Films marked with a star (*) are also on my top 50 fantasy or sci-fi lists If something is missing it’s probably because I haven’t seen it, I didn’t like it, or I didn’t remember it. If you want to know more about these films, I suggest you check out the Internet Movie Database. The order may not be exact, it’s hard to choose amongst one’s favorites, but here it is:
My Favorites
- Alien [1979] *
- I Am Legend [2007] *
- The Brothers Grimm [2005] *
- Sleepy Hollow [1999]*
- Pandorum [2009] *
- Pan’s Labyrinth [2006]*
- Army of Darkness [1992]*
- Signs [2002] *
- Aliens [1986]* (less horror and more thriller than Alien)
- Priest [2011]
- Event Horizon [1997]*
- War of the Worlds [2005KH]*
- The Thing [1982] *
- The Thing [2011]*
- Pitch Black [2000] *
- The Box [2009]
- Needful Things [1993]
- Season of the Witch [2011]*
- Shadow of the Vampire [2000]
- The Forgottetn [2004]
- The Haunting [1999] (love the sets!)
- The Stand [1994] (TV mini-series)
- Interview with a Vampire? [1994]
- The Mummy [2001] (the sequels lacked for the most part)
- 1408 [2007]
- Blade? [1998]
- Sleepwalkers [1992]
- War of the Worlds [1953]*
- Firestarter [1984]
- 13 Ghosts [2001]
- Pet Cemetary [1989]
- Frankenstein: the True Story [1973] (highly recommend this TV movie!)
- Frankenstein [1994]
- Bram Stoker’s Dracula [1992] (Gary Oldman)
- Dracula [1979] (Frank Langella, Laurence Olivier, Donald Pleasence - very romanticized)
- Life Force [1985]
- Something Wicked this way comes [1983]
- An American Werewolf in London [1981]
- Dark City [1998]
- The Wolfman [2010]
- Skyline [2010]
- The Howling [1981] (mostly for the effects)
- It [1990] (TV mini-series)
- The Fly [1986]
- House on Haunted Hill? [1999] (some good “gotchas”)
- House [1986, 1987]
- Split Second [1992]
- Rose Red [2002] (TV min-series)
- The Fly [1958]
- Nosferatu [1922]
Honorable Mention
- Wolf[1994]
- The Frighteners [1996]
- The Ninth Gate [1999]
- Mermaid Chronicles Part 1: She Creature? [2001KH]* (Made for TV movie – great performance by Rufus Sewell)
- Storm of the Century [1999] (TV mini-series)
- Carrie [1988]
- Supernatural (TV) [2005 - 2012] (wrong on just about everything – still entertaining)
- Dracula [1931] (Bela Lugosi)
- Five Million Years to Earth [1967]
- Thinner [1996]
- Buffy the Vampire Slayer [1992]
- Gargoyle [1972]
- Relic [1997]
- Westworld [1973]
- Christine [1983]
- Dark Water [2002]
- Prince of Darkness [1987]
- Hellraiser [1987]
- Dreamcatcher [2003]
- Species [1995]
- Tomyknockers [1993]
- Creature from the Black Lagoon [1954]
- Virus [1999]
- Evil Dead II [1987]
- Maximum Overdrive [1986]
- Pumpkinhead [1988]
- The Island of Doctor Moreau [1977]
- The Island of Doctor Moreau [1996]
- Darkness Falls [2003]
- Invasion of the Body Snatchers [1978]
|
|
Last Words