Earlier today, I was catching up on Llama Arts’ animations for Mr. Nightmare’s “True Scary Stories” compilations (it’s my free time, I’ll waste it however I want), and I burst out laughing when the psycho killer showed up because, well...
I didn’t realize Spoony had fallen on such difficult times.
Earlier today, IGN debuted a teaser poster for the upcoming theatrical film based on the Slender Man mythos. And honestly, judging it on its own merits, I think it’s a pretty darn cool piece of promotional material. Intentional or not, Slendy’s blurred, indistinct silhouette effectively alludes to his enigmatic, elusive nature, and I like how the condensation subtly evokes his iconic tentacles, which tend to be either ignored or overly exaggerated in other adaptations.
That said, I still have to ask: Do we really need a Slender Man movie? Marble Hornets, TribeTwelve, EverymanHYBRID, and other web series like them have thoroughly plundered every scrap of potential lore, and the charming DIY aesthetic they crafted is far more unique and innovative than anything a motion picture studio (major or otherwise) could possibly accomplish. Sure, a professional production might feature flashier cinematography and more impressive special effects, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll be as scary as its scrappy, low-budget predecessors.
I’ll keep an open mind, but my gut tells me this poster will be better than the product it’s advertising.
Well, I powered through all ten thoroughly engrossing episodes of Westworld in just two days, leaving a gaping TV show shaped void in my life. To fill it, I've turned to one of my Christmas gifts: Channel Zero: Candle Cove, the first season of SyFy’s creepypasta-inspired horror anthology series.
Frankly, the idea of anyone attempting to adapt a creepypasta to a non-prose medium strikes me as insane. They're urban legends for the digital age, ghost stories shared on internet message boards rather than around campfires—which means they rely on evocative language to instill fear in the reader/listener. But I admire that kind of audacity, and in any case, the creators chose one of the genre’s finest examples for their inaugural effort. The original short story by webcomic author Kris Straub is an outstanding tone piece, structured around a chillingly circular logic puzzle rather than generic jump scares. Channel Zero's screenwriters use Straub's epistolary narrative as a foundation to craft what is essentially a brand new—but no less tense (as of episode three, anyway)—murder mystery.
Granted, most of the plot twists are painfully predictable, but this does little to diminish the unnerving atmosphere—and since atmosphere was the source material's chief concern, Channel Zero ends up being a wonderfully faithful interpretation, indeed.
