…but I’m mostly seeing 80s sex comedy.

(Look at more over at My Name Is Death, a blog devoted to cataloging Panther titles.)

I know on an intellectual level that when it comes to horror, the truth of the “less is more” cliche can’t be denied. If you want to be truly scary, show little and explain less. A beam of light cutting into an otherwise pitch-black room has a much more visceral effect than the most repulsive and realized monster standing in broad daylight. I know it, and I do my best to keep it in mind when writing.

And yet.

There’s something about what Peter Straub has called “horror’s most bravura excesses” that is so appealing to me. I love shitty latex monster makeup from the 80s, heavy metal music, EC Comics, and old Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manuals. I love things that are loud and garish and without subtlety (though not without art), and the Panther covers fit the bill.

Both ends of the spectrum activate the imagination in the same way, by asking the reader/viewer/audience/whoever to guess at what’s not seen. An unidentifiable sound coming out of an unlit room forces the question, “What could that be?” The question forced by a cover as outlandish as Carnacki the Ghost-Finder’s is, “What the fuck?“ What exists beyond the frame of the artwork becomes the focus of the guesswork. The little rectangle of this world that we see is fully imagined, and yet utterly foreign. Is there maybe something just to the left or the right that can contextualize this weirdness? What does it all mean? Does it even make sense?

This all gets translated to, “What’s inside this book?”

Which is kind of the whole fucking point of a book cover, right?

Not Panther

Panther

When we arrived, we saw through the windows a group of thirty or so people in fancy dress milling around a dance floor, and a DJ setting up equipment in a corner. Our initial fear was that we’d driven all the way out from Oakland to find our dinner plans thwarted by a private party. Then we remembered that we’d had the foresight to make a reservation. The hostess explained to us that, yes, there was a private party taking place (a 6oth birthday party, or possibly a 60th wedding anniversary, although that seems less likely), and yes, we had reservations…right next to the party.

Some people might be put off by being flanked on one side by a DJ table and on another by a crowded dance floor. To hell with those people. Be less finicky. This was neat.

The meal started, and so did the music. The DJ played a mix of Russian pop songs and American pop songs sung in Russian (or possibly just “song,” singular; the only one I recognized was “Hotel California, and only after it was pointed out to me). The partiers danced. None of this was particularly remarkable, until someone at my table squinted at the DJ and said, “I think he’s singing.”

We all looked more closely and saw that he was wearing a microphone headset and that his lips were in fact moving in time with the music’s vocals. We hadn’t noticed before because the movement was slight, and his face slack. He had a laptop open before him, upon which we deduced song lyrics were displayed. This man wasn’t a DJ at all, but a professional karaoke performer.

With his headset and his computer and his bored, blank face, he looked like an IT technician, or a World of Warcraft-er. But he didn’t sound bored. Maybe he wasn’t belting out his songs, but he was at least selling them. It was at first eerie, and then impressive.

We got over it and moved on with our meal. A third of a bottle of vodka later, one of us made a second observation: “He’s playing keyboard.” We realized that the surface upon which his laptop rested was not a table at all, but a synthesizer, and that he was plinking away in time with the recorded music. In addition to song lyrics, we wondered, did the laptop also show sheet music?

I thought about how I could broach the possibility of reconsidering our wedding reception entertainment choices with my fiancee.

Much later, after we’d eaten and drank and payed our check, as we were leaving the restaurant, we passed the performer and saw what it was that he had on his computer screen:

A game of chess.

Finishing the book reminded me that it’s high time I replaced my fifteen-year-old VHS copy of the movie with a DVD. I headed over Amazon to place an order, only to discover that the original movie is no longer being manufactured! The only one they’re pressing these days is The Exorcist: The Version You’ve Never Seen.

Now I’ve seen the version I’ve never seen, and I like the version I’ve seen much better. The newer cut is hardly terrible–we’re not talking about a Star Wars: Special Edition scenario–but it strikes me as unfortunate that they’ve discontinued one in favor of the other. By doing so, they’re effectively stamping an “Official!” seal on TVYNS‘s (abbreviated for sanity’s sake) cover. Maybe that was the intent. After all, this version is endorsed by both William Peter Blatty and William Friedkin. It’s the movie they both wanted to make. It’s just not a movie I want to watch.

Like I said, it’s not bad. With the exception of the facepalmer of a new ending, the changes are largely inconsequential (I’m sorry, but I give exactly no shits about the much-anticipated spider-walk scene, which adds nothing to nothing, and is never spoken of again). What’s more, I’m well aware that I can simply buy the original version used for much, much cheaper (which is what I’m going to end up doing) Mostly, I find it frustrating, even demoralizing, being told that something that I love is actually wrong, as though I’m somehow mistaken in my feelings towards it.

The original is still available in a boxed set that includes both cuts of The Exorcist as well as The Exorcist 2 & 3 and both versions of the prequel, but I’ll be effed before I buy that. I actually like the third movie quite a bit, but I’d put Repossessed on my shelf before I’d let The Exorcist 2 inside my house.

I’m not seeing Avatar until this weekend, so this is a work-in-progress. What with James Cameron being responsible for three of the greatest movies of all fucking time, I’d say it’s likely to be a serious contender.

It looks like 2007 & 2003 were my biggest music years. Do with that what you will.