The Cutprice Guignol

The Ninth Year: The Haunting of Swill House

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The Unbelievable Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt

A bonus blog post on the excellent, go-watch-it-now Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.

A Wanker’s Literary Reaction: Houdini

Now, this week’s installment was going to be on Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, which was awesome and brilliant and had Titus Burgess in it (DID I MENTION I LIKED MUSICAL THEATRE), but I wound up writing that article for Popjunk, and I’ll link it in due course because I think it’s important that you know how fucking excellent that show was. In other news, I’ve decided to start sticking a “Watch of the Week” section down at the bottom of these articles, so even if I hated this show, I’ve still got some actually good TV to recommend.

I finally got round to watching Houdini, the History Channel miniseries about Harry Houdini starring Adrien Brody, which cropped up on Netflix a while ago and became something that I was saving for when I could really savour it, because it sounded precisely like something I would seriously enjoy. And there’s no doubt that I enjoyed it; it was also one of the most spectacularly shit attempts at a biopic I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing in my life. Let’s break this down.

1. The History

I have something to admit here: I’m currently three years into a joint honours history degree that I never intended to take. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed history in high school, but I thought I was signing up for modules when I was signing up for my degree, and turned up and sort of went along with things once I realized my mistake. Next year, I will be graduating with an honours in a subject I never planned to study at university, but stuck with for fear of causing a fuss, because I’m as British as they come. The one thing it did ruin for me, though? Houdini.

Do you want to know what they went with? They went with making Harry Houdini a spy for the American Government.

I didn’t know much about Houdini before watching this miniseries, but there was an immediate “here, naw” reaction when Adrien Brody signed up as a spy for the American Government, using his escape artistry as a cover for espionage. This is bullshit. As in, this is BULLSHIT. It was a theory put forward by ONE historian over ten years ago, who hasn’t backed up his theory with anything other than a message to an intelligence agency signed “HH”. This is a thing that basically didn’t happen. But it doesn’t end there! No, during his visits to Germany, Houdini uses a safe escape trick to break into the German ambassador’s office and steal the Schlieffenplan, which was a very real document that outlined how Germany would wage war against France and Russia by splitting troops across two seperate fronts. While this document would likely have been of interest to foreign intelligence agencies, Houdini didn’t fucking steal it, and he certainly didn’t steal it a year before it was written, as the show depicts. In his dealings with the Russian royal family, the Queen speaks broken English (despite being fluent), Rasputin is shown hanging around the family (he didn’t arrive till three years after the show had him there), and it’s common knowledge that Prince Alexi has hemophelia and that Rasputin is the only one who can ease his pain, which is why the Queen keeps him around, even though Alexi’s affliction was a state secret and not something they’d be discussing over dinner as the show has them do, and Rasputin’s reasons for being so close to the family were, likewise, closely guarded. MI5 turn up decades before they were formed. Houdini’s assistant, played by a wonderfully engaging Evan Jones, is shown to be from Georgia, as opposed to his real-life basis who was from England. They invented a conflict with his father despite the fact Hoduini spoke very highly of his Rabbi pop, and they even got the place he grew up in wrong. The writer of the first half- which was the most egregiously wrong of the two- apparently came out and said he took inspiration from the Guy Ritche Sherlock Holmes adaptations (which are execrable, but fine), apparently forgetting that SHERLOCK HOLMES NEVER EXISTED AND HOUDINI DID, and Stephen Fry’s backside wasn’t going to turn up anywhere to make everything seem alright again. The Sherlock Holmes series works because it’s set in a clearly pissed-around-with version of Victorian London, that features made-up characters doing things that never even became close to happening; using that as a justification for the pish present in Houdini is not that far from using Harry Potter as a reason to have Adolf Hitler shipped off to magic school in Downfall. If you wanted to make a show about an entertainer using his art as a cover for espionage, fine, but don’t attach it to someone who actually existed and didn’t do those things.

Jesus, I’m not demanding every single fact be checked by a thousand-strong horde of historians, and I know that things need to be compressed and elongated to fit a dramatic script, but this is the fucking History Channel. There’s a difference between artistic liscence and making bollocks up to fill space. You’d reasonably expect some people interested in history to be watching; maybe update your knowledge of history past what you remember from high school, eh? It might seem like a nitpick, but it became a hilariously distracting issue for me, and this isn’t even my specific area of study. It jars especially badly with the really well-realized and researched sections on his relationship with spiritualism and his strained friendship with Arthur Conan Doyle, and shows that yes, the writers do know their history as long as it suits their dramatic script. Twenty minutes of Wikipedia would have solved these problems, for Christ sake.

2. Stop Trying to Be Sherlock

I have something horrible to admit: I’m not that big a fan of Sherlock. I would never begrudge someone liking it, and I can see it’s a great show, but it’s never flicked by buttons for whatever reason (apart for that brilliant Baskerville episode with Russel Tovey in it). But it’s insidous influence has leaked all over television, with even Doctor Who absorbing some of the dregs of the show like a soggy biscuit (heh). Houdini so very clearly wanted to be Sherlock, it almost hurt; instead of letting us focus on the always-reliable Brody’s strong, slightly gamine, and uncanny performance, every time Houdini was unlocking a lock or getting punched in the stomach, we’d plunge inside his head (or, in some cases, spleen-seriously) to see how his fiendish brain was working things out. It was slightly interesting the first time round, but swiftly descended into crappy, repetitive showboating, especially when it so constantly interrupted the brilliant scenes of Houdini as an old-fashioned showman flogging his illusions to an amazed crowd. Sherlock is what it is because it doesn’t have to strain to get there; Houdini had it’s veins bulging out of it’s neck trying to prove how slick it was.

3. Kristin Connolly

Now, let’s get this straight: I dig the hell out of Kristin Conolly, who plays Houdini’s wife Beth in the series and who also starred in what is, for my money, the best horror film of the last five years (Cabin in the Woods). But instead of investigating her own interesting life (she worked in showbuisness before and after meeting her husband, and continued with vaudeville acts after his death), she appeared as nothing more than nag and a bore who was basically totally set against Houdini’s occasionally life-threatening acts, despite the fact that the real Beth was nothing but passionately supportive of her husband’s career. She did well with what she was given, but what she was given was little more than a shrieking harridan who’s mother didn’t like her any more because she married a Jewish man. Also, is Kristin Conolly contractually obliged to smoke pot in everything she’s in now, or what?

I guess the most jarring part of all of this is the fact that Houdini still had the potential to be great and indeed showed flashes of that greatness sporadically throughout the series. Houdini’s (real) deathbed conversation with his brother about his lifetime of fakery was powerfully moving, and Adrien Brody’s swagger and electric charm captured Houdini’s own showmanship and playfulness like a photograph. The lengthy exploration of Houdini’s work as a debunker of spiritual frauds was teetering on the edge of utterly excellent, because the show couldn’t rely on endlessly parading out Houdini’s greatest hits to tell a story. But, in coming so close to greatness, Houdini fell flat on it’s arse and I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.

Watch of the Week: In better news, I did discover the superb BBC series In the Flesh which I will recommend to everyone sick of zombie shows who still loves the horror genre. Set in the aftermath of the aftermath of an outbreak, the series follows attempts to rehabilitate zombies with prescription injections and creepy contact lenses. Following a gay teen suicide victim (teenage suicide: don’t do it) as he makes his way back to his rural, homophobic hometown that’s still firmly in zombie battle mode, it’s sensitive, disturbing, and genuinely fresh. Go watch it!

A Wanker’s Literary Reaction: Community Season 6

A couple of years ago, I started watching Community. I’d caught a few episodes from the first series when it was first out, found myself ambivalent, and never tuned in, but a vague crush on Joel McHale joined with some idle Wikipedia browsing about what Chevy Chase had been doing recently led me back to the show. And I loved it. I showed it to everyone I knew, sparking off my own little study group of Community fanatics, head over heels for the fast-paced meta humour and Jim Rash in beautiful dresses (did you know Jim Rash has an Oscar for screenwriting? Every time he wanders on screen in another outrageous fantasy confection, my mind shouts “ACADEMY AWARD WINNER JIM RASH” at me and it becomes three times as funny). Then the fourth series spun around, and the loss of Chevy Chase weighed heavily on the show, even more so than the removal of showrunner and creator Dan Harmon. It still made me laugh, but it wasn’t as utterly memorable and instantly quotable as it once had been. The fifth series barely held my interest at all, with the incredible Donald Glover finding work elsewhere and only one or two episodes that I wanted to watch again-and some I could barely get all the way through. The whittling-down of the cast had me wandering the halls of Greendale Community College feeling a bit lost. Even Mike from Breaking Bad couldn’t save it.

This poster is a bit grim, all thins considered. Are the corpses of Donald Glover, Yvette Nicole Brown and Chevy Chase in the back of that car? We’ll never know.

So when I heard about the show’s cancellation, I wasn’t surprised or particularly disappointed- sure, it’s always a shame to see something you once loved go off the air, but I thought Community had it’s best years behind it. If it’s cancellation had saved something like Happy Endings or Suburgatory- both shows culled long before they went stale- I would have thrown Community on to the “out” pile in a second. But that didn’t stop a little quirk of interest when I heard that Yahoo had picked the show up, and would be producing the long-hoped for sixth season (#sixseasonsandamovie) and, like the good little drone I am, I watched the first two episodes when the came out in the middle of the night earlier this week. And I have some thoughts.

The first and most obvious problem is that the show is buckling under the weight of it’s own imagination. That hefty central cast that made up the first through third series-with seven main characters in all- helped the show bring all it’s crazy subplots and sub-subplots to fruition, because there were always people to throw themselves at whatever crazy shenanigans were sweeping the corridors that week. The show felt the loss of Donald Glover and Chevy Chase keenly and, with the amusingly-framed exit of Yvette Nicole Brown (the show’s secret weapon- her occasional bursts of darkness still remain the funniest parts of the early seasons for me),we’re left with only four of the original main cast as season six opens. Sure, in their place we’ve got Jim Rash and Kim Jeong stepping up to larger roles, and their characters are both well-written and superbly performed- but they’re not part of the group. They used to be there to roll by and spurt out a few lines of outrageous, plot-advancing dialogue (or occasionally stage keytar-themed takeovers of Greendale), and they’ve had a lot of the most jagged (and most entertaining) corners shaved off because they’re real-ish people now, people who need to carry plots and emotional arcs. I preferred them as unrepetent caricatures. Alright, I still did a spit-take the first time Jim Rash delivered a reverant “JESUS….WEPT” in the second episode, but it’s nothing on Dean Pelton having a Scorcese-inspired breakdown as he tries to film a new school commercial, or blackmailing Jeff into singing “Kiss from a Rose”. And that’s what my main issue comes down to with this season, and the couple that have preceded it; I never watched Community just because of the outrageous meta-commentary, I watched it because these were actually characters I liked and cared about and related to on some level (I hate to say it, but I’m somewhere between an Annie and a Britta, dating a Jeff-Abed crossover). Their chemistry was impeccable, and each time someone left a little bit of it was lost. This is no criticism to the remaining cast, but you can’t just pluck Monica and Joey out of the Friends group and expect everything to function the same- or be half as entertaining. The lack of cast- coupled with a longer running time of 27 minutes- leaves the show feeling a bit lost and a bit empty. There’s too much time to fill and not enough to fill it with, especially with A and B plots kind of being smushed together because there aren’t enough characters to separate them totally.

But that’s not to say that there weren’t some great moments in the show. Abed’s hilariously unsubtle listing of everything fans were worried about before the show came back was so on the nose that I had to roll my eyes and laugh along; Paget Brewster’s pragamatic Frankie was a welcome addition, a fun and surprisingly seamless entry into the Greendale world that proves they could probably pull off adding a few more characters to the show if they have the nerve and the willingness to piss off old, purist fans. Guest stars- although they occasionally clutter things up a little- were deployed well here, especially a glimpse of the lesser-spotted Nathan Fillion (also, guys, did you know Matt Berry is going to guest-star in this season? Hold on to your fucking hats, because it’s going to get SHOUTY AND FULL OF INNUENDO IN HERE) in the premiere. And, when it comes down to it, I did laugh a few times during these two episodes- the heartiest came at Ken Jeong’s calm description of a cat under a couch which was chewing it’s was through his hand, closely followed by the glimpse we got of Alison Brie’s folder. And while I found the plots less emotionally impactful than they once had been (the one with Britta’s parents was particularly “whaa?”-worthy), there were glimpses of the heart Community seemed to have lost over seasons four and five. Look, what I’m saying is that this might not be the old Community, and it might not even be the new Community they tried over the last couple of years, but maybe this new-new Community will be something to look forward to. Here’s hoping for six good seasons (and a movie).

Popjunk Reviews: Fifty Shades of Grey

I take on the Fifty Shades of Grey movie, because my lust for masochism knows no bounds.

Your Watchlist for International Women’s Day 2015

Hey, did you know that tomorrow (March 8th) is International Women’s Day? I think that might well be a cause for celebration, so I’ve compiled a list of appropriately feminist TV shows for you to enjoy on my second-favourite Sunday of the year (you’ll never know what takes the top spot, so stop asking). Recommended with ten litres of wine, several cats, and maybe a rampant rabbit or two just strewn about for scenery (because I’ve been re-watching the atrocious Sex and the City, and dildos = empowerment). Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful Women’s Day tomorrow!

1. Transparent- TV Show, availible on Amazon Prime

Ah, Transparent is just straight-up amazing, and a great big fuck you to all the Terfs out there today (that’s trans-exclusionary radical feminists, fact fans). The powerful tale of a family patriarch who becomes a family matriarch (played by the incomparable Jeffery Tambor, of Arrested Development fame), it’s a fantastic and fascinating balance of a whole family and the individual stories that spring from within that family. Taking on gender in all it’s forms, no-one is excluded from proceedings here, with depictions of gender and sexuality open-ended and treated with respect and a very dry sense of humour. There are no dud characters across the whole show, but the leading women are a particular standout because they’re represented as just as flawed and strong as the rest of the cast. Which is basically what feminism is to me.

2. Orphan Black

Side of science fiction with that feminism, sir? This is an odd choice ,because all the female leads are essentially played by one actress, Tatania Maslanay (in fact, I’m being played by Tatania Maslanay right now). And I kind of like that choice-not only does it work in the context of SCARY CLONE NONSENSE, which drives the plot, but it goes to show that there are a number of actresses who can literally do anything, anytime, anywhere, and Tatania Maslanay is amongst them, taking on everything from suburban soccer mom to lesbian biologist to low-level British con artist. This is feminist TV in action both on screen and off, with amazing characters given to amazing performers regardless of gender.

3. Parks and Recreation

For my money, this is pretty much the most outrightly feminist TV show America has produced in years, and that’s almost entirely thanks to Amy Poehler. Both on and off the screen she’s the boss, depicting a woman who’s smart, ambitious, and intelligent, but also romantic, compassionate, and loving, and, above all, fucking hilarious. I can’t bring to mind any other female character on TV who’s been given that kind of leeway in a mainstream American comedy. A flawless cast of slapstick performances make up the backdrop, and, if all else fails, Ron Fucking Swanson.

In and Out of the Closet: Bisexuality and Me

This is kind of a weird article for me to write, because a lot of people I know and have known for a long time read this blog, and my sexuality isn’t something I’ve really discussed at length. But I’ve identified as a bisexual since before I knew there was a word for it (and as soon as I realized that no, not all other women want to have sex with other women). There’s been a lot of talk recently about how bisexuals fit into the LGBT community, with bisexual vloggers, bloggers, and various other personalities talking about how they often don’t feel queer enough for the queer community, but are denying part of themselves by playing straight. And don’t get me wrong, I feel that the world could do with switching it’s whole attitude up regarding the way we look at and treat the LGBT+ community. But yeah, I get that “not-queer enough” feeling a lot.

I’ve been out for a long while now, and I’ve never necessarily felt proud about my sexuality. Comfortable in it, yes; grateful that my family and friends couldn’t care less, yes; but proud seems like the wrong word for something that’s inherently a part of me (personal opinion entirely, all power to those LGBT people who do take pride in their gender identity or sexuality). I’ve been in a long-term relationship with my marvellous boyfriend for over two years now, and, whenever the conversation about sexuality or past relationships comes up, I get the head-tilt of “so you’re in an open relationship?” or “haven’t you been dating *insert boyfriend’s name here* for while now?” or, the worst of the worst, “you hooked up with girls? That’s hot” (spectacularly, the first result that comes up if you type “bisexual” into google is “bisexuals don’t exist”, which is a myth I hope to bust by my continuing corporeal form). As an openly and comfortably out bisexual woman, I feel like I’m in and out of the closet, having to justify my sexuality to people by convincing them that my attraction to both genders is legitimate and ongoing because I don’t broadcast my dating history to everyone I meet. I don’t want to feel like I’m playing at being straight or gay depending on who I’m with; I want to be able to be open in my sexuality without justification or qualification.

Dating somebody of one gender doesn’t mean that I’m not still attracted to members of the other. I apologise if this is coming off as whiny or petulant, because these are just things that I’ve had to put up with for the last few years and I’m pretty bored of them and I want to talk about it to see if anyone else feels the same way. And I’m not claiming that these annoyances are in any way equal to the unbelievable discrimination that many members of the LGBT world face every day, but they are an irritation. Because yeah, I do think I’ve had it a lot easier than other non-bisexual members of the LGBT world. But there seems to be a dislike of the idea that, as a grown-ass woman with a flat and a job and a cat and an almost-degree, this might not be a phase, that I might actually, permanently like men and women.

And it’s not that I’ve felt actively pushed away from the LGBT community. It’s just that, until very recently, I didn’t feel like I had a place there, which could be entirely my perception, or my perception of the way I see the LGBT community represented, or something I’ve plucked straight out of the air. I would feel like I was cheating or lying or misrepresenting myself if I turned up to Pride while I was dating a man, even though I identify as that B. Part of me feels like I’m denying some part of my identity by being with my boyfriend, even though I wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with anyone else- man or woman- right now, because I’m in a straight relationship and, to most of the world, there’s nothing queer about me at all. I don’t want to make my sexuality the only thing that matters about me (I think wearing a friendly “Hey, I’m Bisexual, Ask Me About It!” badge is the best route to go down), or deal with that look of bewilderment and sometimes kind of intrusive questions about my dating history (for the last fucking time, you don’t have to have sex to know your sexuality, so, no, it’s none of your business if I’ve had sex with literally every man and woman who’s every walked the earth). But my sexuality is a big, sometimes confusing, ultimately vital part of who I am as a person, and I don’t like the feeling of having to justify it to people. I don’t like hearing that it was probably phase since I’m dating a guy, or that I was doing it for attention, or that I’m young and might change my mind. Yes, my sexuality is fluid and it might change in the years to come; why can’t you handle the label that I’m choosing to give myself right now? The reactions I get from a number of queer and straight people make me feel like I’m faking it, when I know that I’m not. And that doesn’t anger me or upset me, but it frustrates me.

Because I have amazingly liberal family and friends, I have had it much easier than many members of the LGBT world, and that sometimes makes me feel like I don’t have a right to speak up about the ways I’m treated, and the way I see other bisexual people treated (article will be up later this week about bisexual representation on TV). It’s not a coincidence that so many bisexual/pansexual/queer people are talking about how they don’t feel accepted into the LGBT community or the hetereosexual world, and just because we’re perceived to have it easier doesn’t mean everything is always hunky dory.

I don’t entirely know what point I’m trying to make with this blog post, I just know that these things have been niggling at me for a long while and I needed to word-vomit them out in some semblance of sense. I think what I’m trying to say is that, when you deal with a bisexual person in any circumstance, please don’t question it. This is just a thing that’s part of thousands upon thousands of people, who go about their lives every day comfortable in the knowledge that they like men and women. I’m one of them, maybe you are as well. Maybe you’re someone who straight up doesn’t give a fuck about what sexuality someone is and wouldn’t dream of questioning it and if you are, thank you, I love you a little bit more. But these are things that me and people like me have to deal with on a daily basis, online, in person, in pop culture. The world will be a happier place for bisexuals everywhere if we don’t feel the need to prove our queerness to anyone.

Peace, I’m out. In both senses of the phrase.

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What Should You Expect from Game of Thrones Season 5?

Some thoughts for the GoT fans on my Facebook.

Everything Wrong with This Month’s Issue of Cosmo

Ah, Cosmo. You’ve been with me since I was in my early teens. You told me that men like having their nipples licked and their testicles “jiggled like dice” during sex. You told me I should try a two-tone lip! I wrote furiously about you three years ago and I stand by everything I said. And you know what: you’ve got better in the last year. I generally buy you with a burning guilt inside, but recently you’ve stretched your boundaries a bit, with the editor’s letter this week about the importance of young women engaging with the upcoming general election, an article about LGBT issues, and a kind of glossy sense of feminism running throughout. So well done for that. But you’re not done yet. Let’s talk about what you need to really reflect that “fun, fearless women” label you’ve so generously landed yourselves with.

1. The Fashion Stuff

Look, I like fashion. Clothes are an important way of expressing who you are, and I’ve got no problem with the pages Cosmo dedicates to pictures of cool dresses or coats or boots or whatever, even if it’s not really what I buy the magazine for. But you cannot have a piece praising a woman as a “crusader” for creating clothes for larger women, and featuring size 16 women on catwalks, and then have this parade of conventionally beautiful, young, slim women on your fashion spreads. Take a look at the three female models featured in this month’s issue-

LOUISE - WIN_20150217_180819

LOUISE - WIN_20150217_180735

Apologies for my peering maw in the corner of these pictures.

Apologies for my peering maw in the corner of these pictures.

This is something that has always baffled me- and it’s not because I think thin women shouldn’t feature in their fashion pages, but rather because it would be so damn simple to stick women with different body shapes in their at (presumably) no extra cost. They’re undermining their own positive message in a way that’s so obvious and so easy to fix. Later in the magazine, an article discusses how and why women judge each other’s bodies so often, while they eliminate anyone who isn’t youthful, skinny, and beautiful from their pages. Come on now.

2. The Other Models

I went through the rest of the magazine to look at the pictures that are used to illustrate the articles-I assume a lot of them are stock pictures, but whatever they are, they’re there to add a bit of colour to the writing. But guess what- outside of the Cosmo Promotes pages and pictures of columnists or subjects, the only pictures of people used to illustrate the pieces were of young, slim, conventionally attractive, predominately blonde, and almost entirely white women. This is another thing that’s just so bloody easy to fix, so I just don’t understand why nobody’s noticed this yet.

3. Thier Big Interview

Every month, Cosmo features a famous female on the front page of their magazine. promising an in-depth interview with her inside. Now, I often skip these sections because I find reading interviews with people I don’t know a lot about pretty dull, but this week I read it. It was with Emma Willis, who’s a pretty successful TV presenter. The hookline on the front cover was “INSIDE EMMA’S MARRIAGE: THE DAY MATT FEARED HE’D LOST TRUST IN HER” and the interview inside- which spans two full pages- has just one paragraph focused on her career. Much of the rest is focused on how she supports her husband, Matt Willis, of McBusted, A lengthy part of the interview recounts a time when her husband and his band called Emma when she was live on Radio 1 and told her they had been offered a trip to America, and she needed to make a decision about it right now. She was devastated, and hung up and burst into tears. But it’s okay because “the other lads and wives (because they have no other notable life attributes other than being married to a slightly famous person, right?) thought she was brilliant” and “it’s really cruel but that’s what makes it so good to listen to”. If Cosmo really wants to promote “fun fearless women” as it declares on the spine of every copy, the interviews should be focused on the achievements and struggles of these successful professional women they’re interviewing, not on how their husbands made a shit joke one time but it’s fine now. They do interview women about their careers in other sections of the magazine, but fail to extract any genuinely interesting insight from their celebrity guests. If I’m buying this magazine because Emma Willis is on the front cover, I want to read an interview about Emma Willis- if some of that touches on her family life, great, but there simply should be more on her substantial achievements in a highly competitive field too.

4. FUCK OFF WITH FIFTY SHADES

I hate bringing it up again, but not only does this issue feature a full-page ad for the movie, it has a two-page article about how Fifty Shades has affected our sex lives, some of which is pretty interesting, including the interpretation of BDSM from a feminist perspective, and a short space-filler about things you didn’t know about the series. But, aside from a small pull-out section which acts as a sorry excuse for lip service, they don’t touch on the problematic, abusive elements in the book that have been romanticised. Considering the number of abuse survivors- who Cosmo claims to support- who’ve spoken out about how the book romanticises abuse, you’d think they’d put some real time and effort into discussing it.

5. Sex is Only for Straight People

As someone who’s had sex with women, I had to teach myself how to do it safely (and I’m not just talking about snapping an ankle while scissoring). There’s a woeful lack of sex education for LGBT people in schools, and Cosmo would be doing some readers a service by talking about how to have safe, brilliant sex with people of your own gender. But nope, the sex tips are still basically outrightly aimed at straight people. Sort it.

Cosmo, you’re trying. And, as one of the most widely recognisable women’s magazines in the world, I appreciate it. But you’ve got a long way to go yet.

The ABCs of Death is Important. Really Important.

Look, ABCs of Death gets a bad rap. And I’m still not entirely sure as to why. A 26-section horror anthology that handed out letters of the alphabet to more than two dozen directors and told them to make a short horror film that featured a death in some way, it’s an audacious idea from the off. But there’s a certain kind of snobbery that surrounds short horror movies- I guess because they’re cheap, easy to make, and therefore attract some of the most inexperienced and lowly-budgeted directors the industry has kicking around (not the inexperience or low budget are actually an excuse- look what my best friend did with his short horror movie). So, a lot of shitty, low-concept, badly-made horror shorts are churned out and the nuanced, varied world of short horror gets a bad name once again.

But ABCs of Death is not just a bloody excellent movie. Well, of course it’s that, despite patchy segments (Ti West’s M for Miscarriage is particularly egregios, which is sad because his movies, especially The Innkeepers, are so excellent), and mixes up horror stalwarts with up-and-comers, foreign directors, animators, actors and artists alike. It’s a neat idea, but that’s not the sole reason why it’s so important.

ABCs of Death is a profoundly important movie for the horror genre- in fact, I’d wager that it’s the most important horror movie of the decade so far. Every few years or so, we get a movie that’s going to cause a big stir and spawn scores of skittering little rip-offs that will characterise the industry for the next few seasons or so. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in 1974, Friday the 13th in 1980, Scream in 1996, The Blair With Project in 1999, Saw in 2004, Insidious in 2011….these might not be the best examples of the genre, but they’re the popular ones that stuck, and that’s what makes them important, like it or not. There’s been a modest revival of the horror anthology in the last few years of so, with The Profane Exhibit, V/H/S (and V/H/S 2) and ABCs of Death attracting respected directors and creating new genre stars in their own right. But ABCs of Death-stripped of any wraparound segments to tie the whole thing together, laid bare in it’s brutal, bloody brilliance- is the most important of the lot. Why? Because it doesn’t show off one facet of the horror genre: it shows off every single one over the course of two occasionally harrowing hours of unrestrained creativity.

You’ve got the curdling, sweaty straightforwardness of the shocking D for Dogfight (for my money, the best sequence in the bunch) matched at the other end of the film with the equally horrible but far less visceral Y for Youngbuck (complete with Hannibal-esque stag man). N for Nuptials is a pitch-black romcom, while Q for Quack presents a hyperactive meta-comedy starring the director and producer trying to kill a duck. B for Bigfoot and C for Cycle jump on overused horror tropes and give them a sharp, tantalising twist, then O for Orgasm turns up as a crisply erotic bit of abstract film-making.

I’ll say this now: I’m going to embed a few of the full shorts into the article to give those who are interested a taste, but be warned that this one is extremely violent and potentially very disturbing. Seriously, I’m only going to say this once: if violence against animals or people bothers you, give this video a miss.

Of course, there are some which just plane don’t word- K for Klutz and probably W for WTF- or are just too pointedly disgusting to get through (I’m looking at you, L for Libido). But for every miss, you’ve got the sublime weirdness of the stop-motion animation T for Toilet or the harrowing I for Ingrown. Some, like high-concept sci-fi thriller V for Vagitus or the ingenious U for Unearthed, beg for a feature-length re-imagining, juxtaposed against viscerally relatable X for XXL which tells every bit of story you’d want told. You get what I’m saying here. ABCs is a film with ups and downs, because it reflects the industry as a whole.

Have a break, have a Q for Quack.

ABCs is great and vital viewing for anyone who’s new and enthusiastic, or old and passionate, to the genre, because it proves that horror is not just about creepy kids lurking behind doors, or serial killers ripping the lungs from their victims. Horror is a fabulous, gleeful subscription to everything that makes you sick and uncomfortable, everything that makes you screw your face up and glance momentarily away from the screen.

Ben Wheatley’s U for Unearthed, told from the POV of a vampire fleeing a mob.

Horror- that feeling of disgust or fear or whatever you want to call it at the pit of your stomach- can be elicited by almost anything if you’ve got a decent enough director and idea behind it. ABCs of Death is the best example of that I’ve ever seen, because, as an anthology, it isn’t stuck to one genre but allowed to wander freely from slasher to comedy to spooky bedtime story. And that’s what makes it one of the most brilliant, entertaining and vital movies of this generation’s horror classics. Love it or hate it, this is the best example of what modern horror can, can’t, and is willing to do to get under your skin.

Mockingjay Makes a Mockery of Young Adult Tag

I reviewed Mockingjay; it was seriously good.