I caged the writer/director of VelociPastor and managed to get his favorite horror movies, why they resonated with him, and what effect they had (if any) on creating one of the strangest, dumbest, fun-est movies I’ve seen in a while.
Brendan Steere Ten(ish) Favorite Horror Movies
Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)
The thing I love about TCM is that its greatness has almost nothing to do with the conventional elements of filmmaking: its script is barely extant, the effects are mostly pretty amateurish, it’s certainly got no great “message” to impart – but the power in this film is undeniable. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen another movie that’s actually as legitimately scary and unsettling to me. Everything feels like it’s spiraling out of control, and you’re just here to witness it. By the end of it, you’re sure that somebody got hurt making this movie – it’s been so committed to brutality and ugliness that there’s no way they couldn’t have somehow been hurt. It’s viscerality personified in a single movie – pure kinetic energy and madness, and it works. It works again and again and again. Leatherface dances as the new day dawns. Sally laughs, drenched in blood. Blues for the red sun.
Alien (1979)
If the greatness of TCM is almost an accident on the filmmaker’s part, the opposite end of the spectrum must be Alien, which is by my estimation the rare perfect movie. Every single thing in this moves and works like clockwork – you’re witnessing artists at the height of their craft, doing what they do best and creating icons in the process. Literally everything in this movie works. Before I shot my first feature Animosity, I watched Alien every night for two weeks straight, and it is shocking how well it holds up even after a binge-watch like that. I want to be Ellen Ripley, and I always will. I think about the scene where she sings “You are my lucky star” almost every week.
House (1977)
I’ve gone to bat for this movie many times on many podcasts, so I won’t belabor the issue here, but rest assured that House is one of my favorite movies full stop – regardless of genre. It’s constantly inventive, restless, fun, youthful, brilliant, and packs in more visual ideas in 88 minutes than most filmmakers do in their entire careers. Essential, ecstatic viewing.
Frankenstein/Bride of Frankenstein (1931/1935)
James Whale is sorely underestimated in the world of horror auteurs, as are the early Universal films in general. Frankenstein and its sequel are just great movies, full stop. They look forward to figures like del Toro, who will take the mantle of sympathy for the monster and run with it. I think the things I love about these films is that you’re genuinely unsure who to root for – the doctor and the monster are equally sympathetic and wonderful. These two movies are also what helped convince me that the perfect runtime for a movie is 75 minutes. I stand by that to this day: tell your story, tell it clearly and concisely, and get the fuck out.
Suspiria (1977)
When people describe movies as feeling like a nightmare, I always think about Argento’s Suspiria. I’m a big Argento fan, but this particular film is “the one”, by my estimation – it’s lightning in a bottle. It’s the rare horror movie that manages to be scary while also being just jaw-droppingly beautiful. There’s not really another word to describe it besides lush. Against all odds, the lack of logic and explanation in the proceedings somehow manages to make the whole experience better. I really loved the remake as well, but the original will always have a place in my heart. It’s a very special, singular movie – even stacked against Argento’s impressive catalogue. And Chriiiiiist that god damn score is just out of this world. When I was making VelociPastor, I referenced the score to this and Deep Red directly to the composer. “Give me Goblin,” I said, “Give me those Argento bass lines.” He did a great job with it.
The Killer Shrews (1959)/The Blob (1958)
These are my two favorite 50s creature features. There’s something really appealing in some ways about the innocence of these films – everything is kind of coated in this blanket of “things are gonna work out, don’t worry”, and there’s something fun about that. I grew up watching The Killer Shrews with my parents, and I think I want to remake it one day. It’s just an eternal blast – the MST3K episode of it is great too. The Blob has that boppin theme song, and I just love that all the “kids” in it are obviously pushing forty. “Teens that are too old” is one of my favorite low-key 50s tropes, and if I ever make a 50s pastiche (which I want to) I want to lean into that hard.
The Thing (1982)/The Fly (1986)
I lumped these two together for the most obvious reason: they are the zenith of special effects filmmaking and body horror. The Thing is maybe the one other horror movie besides Alien that I think of as genuinely perfect filmmaking. Another example of a filmmaker at the height of his craft doing what they do best. It’s terrifying. The Fly plays out like a tragedy to me in every sense of the word. I actually usually end up crying at the end of the movie, which at first seems like an odd reaction for a horror film to provoke. I’m a firm believer that all horror movies are just tragedies that you’re emphasizing the existential dread of. The Fly just leans more heavily than normal into the tragedy aspect. Never has an AIDS allegory hit closer to home.
The Blair Witch Project (1999)
I feel like people give Blair Witch a lot of flack, and honestly, I’m baffled by that. What a great, novel idea this was, executed very well. Things like Blair Witch remind me that horror is constantly evolving and trying new things and that the democratization of film through formats that are cheap enough for a layman can only bring good new ideas. I know some people are bothered by the “shaky cam” aspect, but I’ve always liked the low-fidelity formats better for horror and I think it works wonderfully here – there’s just something inherently unsettling and violent about VHS. The beauty of Blair Witch is how it gives the audience just enough rope to hang themselves and then lets their imaginations do the heavy lifting. Still far better than most of the studio attempts to recreate its success, I consider it an absolute triumph of no-budget filmmaking.
Dawn of the Dead (1978)/Shaun of the Dead (2004)
I’ve always felt a kinship with George A. Romero’s work, and I think Dawn is my favorite. It’s just got such an atmosphere to it – it’s no small wonder that it basically single-handedly launched “zombies” as a viable subgenre within horror. It’s creepy, it’s unsettling, it’s fiercely humanistic, and its central allegory still works wonderfully today – Romero’s movies were never just about what they were about, and I think that even though this is one of his most obvious “message movies”, it’s still effective. Edgar Wright is an eternal hero of mine, and Shaun kicks off his perfect run that remains to this day. When I first saw Shaun it totally rocked my world open, and somehow Wright has only gotten better at this shit. It’s insane how many jokes are packed into this movie, and even more insane that it still has time for satisfying emotional arcs and some genuine horror on top of them.
Sleepaway Camp (1983)
This is a bad movie, but oh what a bad movie it is. I love everything about this film – it’s my favorite of the 80s slashers. From inappropriate and laughable dialogue to all the memorable kills to the truly, legitimately unhinged and disturbing final image. It’s 80 minutes of laughter and then one moment of the audience actually cringing. A great combo. I really don’t know what more you could want from a camp slasher. The How Did This Get Made podcast episode on it is essential listening if you’re a fan – they unlock what’s fun and goofy about this movie in every way possible and I love it.
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