Killer Creatures Down Under: Horror Stories with Bite
‘Behind the Scenes’ – Part One
​

KILLER CREATURES DOWN UNDER: HORROR STORIES WITH BITE, conceived and edited by award-winning author and anthology editor Deborah Sheldon, will be released worldwide by IFWG Publishing Australia on 15 May 2023. From creepy-crawlies to crocodiles, you’ll have plenty to fear in this anthology penned by Australian authors. Killer Creatures Down Under: Horror Stories with Bite offers disturbing tales that range from the action-packed and visceral, through the historical and futuristic, to the phantasmagorical and supernatural.

In this four-part series exclusive to Ginger Nuts of Horror, the contributors have agreed to pull aside the curtain and reveal the inspiration behind their nightmarish tales.

PART ONE includes insights from editor Deborah Sheldon, and writers Keith Williams, Ben Matthews, and Anthony Ferguson.


Editor Deborah Sheldon on “Species Endangered”, and Killer Creatures Down Under: Horror Stories with Bite

My collection, Perfect Little Stitches and Other Stories (IFWG Publishing Australia, 2017), is about monsters of all types including mythological, cryptid and supernatural. But when I was writing the original fiction needed to round out my collection, I realised I’d missed one important type: the genuine, flesh-and-blood animal. Since I like to use settings in my own country, I decided to write a story featuring an Australian animal. I Googled a list of our most dangerous creatures, and the story’s plot came to me as soon as I saw a photograph of this real-life killer.

The effect of my story “Species Endangered” partly comes, I believe, from the juxtaposition of the beautiful setting with the threat posed to my characters. Plus, out of all the stories in my collection, “Species Endangered” is the most plausible. I worked in the traits that humans generally find scary about wild animals: how they can be unpredictable, dangerous, and even downright repulsive to look at, let alone touch.

Perfect Little Stitches and Other Stories was multi-award-nominated, and won the Australian Shadows ‘Best Collected Work’ Award. My story “Species Endangered” was also well-received, being selected by Ellen Datlow for her honourable mentions list for best horror of the year. Ever since the collection’s success, I’ve toyed with the idea of curating an anthology of horror tales about Australian creatures of all persuasions.

But it wasn’t until the critical acclaim for my anthology, Spawn: Weird Horror Tales About Pregnancy, Birth and Babies (IFWG Publishing Australia, 2021), that I pitched the idea for Killer Creatures Down Under: Horror Stories with Bite. Gerry Huntman, managing director of IFWG Publishing Australia, was intrigued by my concept and saw its potential.

Our contract was quickly signed.

In April 2022, we put out an open call for submissions from Australian authors. (This is the first IFWG anthology that doesn’t include work from commissioned authors.) The animals could be of any type – mammals, reptiles, amphibians, birds, invertebrates, fish, arthropods – as long as they were real creatures that are native to Australia. I put no restriction on subgenre. Over the three-month submission window, I received a wealth of stories. I selected the ones that gripped me, unsettled me; stories that interpreted the theme in captivating, unexpected or shocking ways. I also included “Species Endangered” as a reprint since it was my inspiration.

I’m very proud of Killer Creatures Down Under, and hope that it finds a large, receptive audience. The authors who wrote these knock-out stories deserve nothing less.

http://deborahsheldon.wordpress.com


Keith Williams on “Corvus”

I always love it when something simple inspires a new story. A song title recently inspired me to write a whole novel. It was “Tombstone Shadow” by Creedence...Yeah, folks, I'm old. And so it was with the invitation to write about Killer Creatures Down Under.

I didn't have to look far to find a villain. Living in a rural area, I only needed to look out the window, note the behaviour of certain critters, and think...What if? That's how it has always been for me when it comes to the craft — establish a baddie, add some characters, and then let them take over.

I've never written copious notes about plot, I usually just make a start with a basic idea, have an ending in mind and the rest just spills out.

Perhaps the biggest challenge in writing any genre of fiction is creating characters that readers can identify with in some way. If you can do that, make them believable, then they will take over the tale and lead the way. That's how it has always happened for me. Or maybe I'm just batshit crazy.

Even short stories like this, though, require numerous re-writes and even when you think it is just right, be assured, it isn't.

I have been writing quite a bit in the first person in recent times as I enjoy experiencing the travails of the main character in a more intensely personal manner, and so it has been with this story. For me, plundering the depths of psychological horror is more terrifying than the blood and gore of many stories. Nothing wrong with the latter — go where your spirit takes you — this is just where I'm at these days.

I had a blast writing this story, fine-tuning it and delving into the whys and wherefores of the protagonists. I hope it freaks you out and makes you wonder next time you look out the window...What if?

If you're interested, you can find most of my novels on Kobo.com. Great stories at bargain prices!


Ben Matthews on “Ixodes Holocyclus”

We all see the world through dead eyes. The vitreous humour or clear jelly that fills our eyeballs is composed of millions of dead cells. If you stare into a cloudless sky, or at a bright light, you can see them, too. They are always there, but you can only see them in certain situations or when you really concentrate.

Ideas for stories are much the same. They are always there, drifting through your mind, or flickering in brief moments of inspiration. Unless you pay attention to them, they disappear just as quickly. Like the dead cells in our eyes, they are old, and used up, and there’s nothing new or original about them. The important thing is not what you look at, but how you see it. The only difference between me and people who do not write is that I record these random ideas. Record them in notebooks or on my phone. Later, when I need inspiration, I will review my notes and look for something I can make into a story.

It is easier to write when I have a theme or a prompt. For me, a set theme is like a seed crystal in a chemical reaction: it creates a foundation for elements to collect and rapidly forms a much larger version of the seed. Previous ideas, different scenes, and characters are drawn to the seed, the better ones latching on, taking form, and turning into a plot. Now, my notes have crystallized, and I have a molecular lattice around which to write a story.

For “Ixodes Holocyclus”, I had a theme: Write a horror story about a native Australian animal that bites. I listed all the animals of which I could recall. Then I removed all the obvious answers. Sharks? It has been done before. Dingoes? Maybe. Kangaroos? Now I was being silly, but the creative juices were flowing.

Before I could decide on an animal, I cast my mind into my notebook, looking for something interesting. An idea that had been floating around for some time was that of a forensic cleaner. A forensic cleaner is a person who tidies up a crime scene and removes the bodies, and all the body parts, after emergency services and investigators are finished with their work. How did I know about this? Through one of our family friends, a retired farmer, who does forensic cleaning to pass the time. According to him, there is nothing more boring than spending the night picking pieces of car accident victims out of bushes and trees all night. “Although,” he said thoughtfully, “it is wild how far a human head will fly if they are not wearing a seat belt.”

I dropped this into the chemical concoction in my mind and watched it swirl around the prompt itself. By the time I chose an animal, all I had to do was build it into the structure that was forming. The hardest part was finding an animal, but eventually, I did it. I found a creature that would frighten even the most battle-worn forensic cleaner.


Anthony Ferguson on “Bait”

The thing I love about short stories, as opposed to novels, is that I can riff the narrative along in a stream of consciousness. What I mean is, I can usually start with one small idea, or even one line from my imagination, and the rest of it just comes out in one or two sittings. It’s only a few thousand words after all, predicated on one major theme. It still takes a lot of effort of course, but it’s not as intense a process as a novel, which I feel has to be carefully mapped out before I start.

In this case, I did a lot of research on deadly Australian creatures. I was looking for an angle I hoped would be unique enough to win me a place in this anthology. No spoilers, but when you read it, you’ll notice that I tease one particular creature, but throw in a twist which is somewhat obscure and one I am confident nobody else will use.

The characters usually come to me as I write. In this case, I knew I needed an Asian Aussie. I riffed on personal memories of a local lady I once spoke to in a street market in Hong Kong. I can’t elaborate any further without hinting at spoilers.

I often pluck images from my own memories and reconstitute them. For example, I went on a fishing trip once and saw a guy hook a hammerhead shark on a line. It leapt out of the water (we cut it loose). There’s also one specific line in the text that came to me before I even started drafting, and I was able to build the narrative around that line.

See, ideas can come from anywhere!

All my stories go through several drafts. I send them out to beta readers for feedback. In this instance, my readers pointed out a major loophole in the plot, which had to be addressed to give the story more impact. Let’s just say it was a matter of life and death.

I hope you enjoy it. You can find me and more of my work here: https://anthonypferguson.wixsite.com/mysite

DEBORAH SHELDON is a multi-award-winning author, anthology editor, script editor and medical writer from Melbourne, Australia. She writes across the darker spectrum of horror, crime and noir. Latest titles include the anthology Killer Creatures Down Under: Horror Stories with Bite, novelette The Again-Walkers, collection Liminal Spaces: Horror Stories, and novella Man-Beast.

Award-nominated titles include Body Farm Z, Contrition, Devil Dragon, Thylacines, and Figments and Fragments: Dark Stories. Her collection Perfect Little Stitches and Other Stories won the Australian Shadows ‘Best Collected Work’ Award, was shortlisted for an Aurealis Award, and long-listed for a Bram Stoker.

She has won the Australian Shadows ‘Best Edited Work’ Award twice: for Midnight Echo 14 and for the anthology she conceived and edited, Spawn: Weird Horror Tales About Pregnancy, Birth and Babies. Her short fiction has appeared in respected magazines, podcasts and ‘best of’ anthologies, been translated, and garnered numerous award nominations.

Other credits include TV scripts such as NEIGHBOURS, feature articles, non-fiction books (Reed Books, Random House), play scripts, and award-winning medical writing. Visit Deb at http://deborahsheldon.wordpress.com



​

Today we welcome to Ginger Nuts of Horror for the cover reveal for the brand new edition of As the Night Devours Us by Villimey Mist, Check out the cover below from the hugely talented Matt Wildasin.

As an older gamer, the spirit is all too willing, but the flesh is weak. The evenings of merrily gloating over my bullet-ridden friends in 4-player split screen Halo are distant memories, and long gone are the days where I could hold my own in an online multiplayer first person shooter. Having had my parentage and/or sexuality called into question through tinny headphones by an eleven year American one too many times as his on-screen persona performs squat-thrusts atop my downed soldier, my gaming tastes are now much more sedate.

So, “Dredge” – released on the 30th of March by Team17 games (better known for their countless “Worms” games) seemed like an ideal pursuit. Essentially, it’s a game about fishing – a pursuit even gentler than Golf – and your time will be spent taking your tiny ship onto the open waves and catching from a smorgasbord of fish varieties.

And a horror fishing game, you say? Count me in.
​
Playing as an unnamed fisherman who finds himself capsizing his vessel in the worst possible place, you wake up – sans ship – on the small island of Greater Marrow. The overly cheery mayor sets you to fishing in the tranquil waters around the island to pay for the diminutive new schooner they’ve graciously provided you with – a nominal sum, quickly paid off – and life seems good.

What could be better? A relaxing life on the ocean waves, fresh air in your lungs and time to catch up with a bit of reading. Just try not to think too hard about the mysterious fishmonger who takes to bolting up his shop at the oddest of times and the sounds of violent struggle from within, or the odd damp packages you’re sometimes called upon to deliver; less brown paper packages, more brine paper.
​
Only missing a plaque that marks the town of Greater Marrow as being twinned with Innsmouth, this town – and its archipelago neighbours – are far from what they seem. No sooner have you made this tiny little seaside town your (temporary) home when the Mayor seems especially keen to warn you not to fish at night, but the sinister Fishmonger insists that the best fish only come out during the hours of darkness, notably by their ominous glow.

As an elegant piece of game design, “Dredge” hangs together so well. The constant drip-feed of rewards encourages that “just ten more minutes” style of gameplay, and the at first seemingly disparate elements mesh together perfectly. From the brevity (and subsequent variety) of the little mini-games that accompany each bout of fishing or dredging resources, to the Tetris-style minigame with you finding the best arrangement of rotation and placement of odd-shaped fish to maximise the layout of your tiny cargo hold, it’s a constant delight.

But they’re all just components of where “Dredge” really shines - the time-management meta game that has the player constantly weighing up risk versus reward. Like with the superlative (and delightfully cunning) first person shooter “Superhot” life on the ocean waves is a tranquil and relaxing one, time virtually frozen in place.
​
Until you do something, that is.

​Set sail, and the remaining hours of daylight will pass in minutes. A few minutes fishing, and the sky will have faded from the cloudy blues of daylight to the ominous purples and reds of dusk. The day/night cycle is preternaturally fast, and this is one game where you don’t want to still be out fishing at night. Apart from those things you must catch for a big bounty which only come out at night, remember?

Bobby Vee sung of The Night Having a Thousand Eyes yet “Dredge” has just the one; a Sauron-esque red orb that will taunt you from the clock which is showing a way later time than you’re comfortable with. Your piddling little front mounted light has little effect on the encroaching darkness, and there’s something glowing red on the horizon, drawing closer. The ordinarily peacefully delightful ambient soundtrack warps and crackles like a discordant fairground calliope. Your ship is already badly damaged and you’re floating on an infinite black abyss with the lighthouse of the Marrows a tiny pinprick on the distance – can you risk being out for just a few more minutes to catch that one that keeps getting away, even though those whispers are growing ever closer?
​
Night is a terrifying place in “Dredge” and it’s too easy to get stuck out in the middle of the ocean late at night. With only the simplest of maps at your disposal, the darkness masks all the familiar landmarks you’ve been using to navigate. The (upgradable) illumination on your boat will keep your sanity in check, but for only so long – and you’ll be racing home, risking your engines and hull to get you back beneath the glow of Greater Marrow’s welcoming Lighthouse.

​It shares a similar mechanic with the excellent “Subnautica” and “Subnautica: Below Zero”, both games based around the open sea – albeit the latter more concerned about travelling under it. As the game starts, the islands on the distant horizon appear defiantly out of reach – misty mountain peaks, tropical islands, and silhouettes of sinister titanic temples. The profits from fish selling, treasure hunting (or other more insalubrious deals) can be invested back into your vessel allowing you to travel further afield, but with every nautical mile you venture away from safety, the longer it will take you to get back – and the greater the risk of being trapped at night, hunted by the denizens of the waters. The sea is littered with salvageable wrecks, barnacle and seaweed encrusted evidence of the last fate of the foolhardy or overconfident.
​
“Dredge” is a game unashamed to wear its independent credentials. It might not have the flashy visuals and voice acting of some bigger titles, but it has a unique look and feel all to itself. Every character you’ll meet on your travels is drawn with a very distinctive abstract style, giving them an otherworldly feel. The world feels appropriately huge, with beautiful environmental and water effects to accompany your treacherous navigations across its vast swathes.

It's not perfect – the game does tend towards a bit of a grind during the last act, and it’s not much of a spoiler to say that your ship gains abilities during the game, and that one such ability is effectively a “get out of trouble instantly” button which diminishes a lot of the risk posed by the things in the night. Also, because the game does very little in the way of holding your hand, there are a few areas early in the game where a chance visit pretty much guarantees the destruction of your boat, thanks to some overpowered threats. Familiarity also does bring contempt, and you’ll find yourself less and less afraid of the things that lurk beyond twilight as the tricks of the game become more apparent as you gain power and confidence.

The term Lovecraftian is overused, but – other than FromSoftware’s “Bloodborne” – I’d struggle to think of a game that evokes the eldritch source material so well. No pun intended, but there’s a lovely undercurrent of menace to the entire proceedings – from the unusual mutations and aberrations of fish that’ll start appearing in your catch, down to the thoroughly weird and untrustworthy bunch of characters you’ll meet enroute. My first playthrough – an intended quick test – lasted half a day, so one can’t deny – no pun intended – the game’s hook.
​
Dredge is available on pretty much every platform except the Oric Atmos and the Texas Instruments TI99/4A, and is well worth the meagre asking price. You’ll never have so much fun being lost at sea.

1. THE EXORCIST (1973)

Although you may not agree with The Exorcist's reputation as the scariest movie ever, however, it was voted as the top film in our list like an online casino is considered the best online casino. Directed by William Friedkin, the film follows the story of a demon-possessed kid. It became the highest-grossing horror movie of all time and was nominated for multiple Academy Awards.

The movie sparked protests due to its controversial content, and it reportedly caused people to faint and vomit in the theater. Despite its relatively dated effects and dramatic pacing, the power of the film still remains.

2. THE CONJURING (2013)

James Wan is one of the most prominent filmmakers in the horror genre. He has made numerous impressive movies such as The Conjuring, Insidious, and Dead Silence. The film was inspired by the real-life experiences of paranormal investigators Lorraine and Ed Warren. The two were portrayed by Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson. Their performances were able to ground the effective scares and leave the audience with a feeling of world-weariness.

Through his work, Wan has been able to create a vast and terrifying cinematic universe. He and his cast members were able to find fresh terror in the conventions of horror.

3. THE SHINING (1980)

Stephen King’s various works have been adapted for the screen many times. Some of these include Misery, Carrie, and Pet Sematary, and they are considered classics. The most notable example is Stanley Kubrick’s masterful adaptation of The Shining.
The film is a marvel of production design and set design, and it features an unsettling take on the traditional horror story. Jack Nicholson’s performance is unforgettable, and the film's few jumps scares are still enough to scare the living out of you. Its true power lies in how it lingers under your skin, making you experience Jack's descent into madness.

4. SINISTER (2012)

Before this film became a part of the Marvel family with Doctor Strange, Scott Derrickson made a couple of horror movies. One of these was a small-scale horror film called The Haunting of a Ghost Writer, which was released in 2006. It follows the story of a true-crime writer who moves his family into a house where a family has already been killed. However, when he discovers that the new tenant is already a terrifying creature, he decides to investigate.

According to C. Robert Cargill, who wrote the screenplay, he was inspired to create the story after watching The Ring. Although the film has a few similarities to the original, it was still able to deliver an effective and unsettling experience.

5. THE CONJURING (2013)
James Wan is a rising star in the horror genre, having directed such films as Insidious, Saw, and Dead Silence. Based on the real-life experiences of paranormal investigators Lorraine and Ed Warren, this film is a chiller that tackles the issues of fear and isolation. The film stars Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson, who respectively play the Warrens.

Together with his co-stars, Wan was able to create a frightening and sprawling universe of horror films.

6. INSIDIOUS (2010)

Before he collaborated with Patrick Wilson for The Conjuring and became one of the most prominent filmmakers in the industry, James Wan worked with Leigh Whannell on this supernatural thriller. Its basic story wasn't very original, but it was still able to create a compelling mythology that would lead to subsequent installments.
​
According to Wan, Insidious was made to be a corrective to the violence of Saw, which he claims was too violent. He then decided to make it a spiritual horror movie, and it is regarded as one of the best jump scares in recent memory.


​

​Letting the Eldritch Seep: Animal House


By: Bob Freville


Welcome to Letting the Eldritch Seep, a column in which we will disinter and dissect artistic artifacts of popular culture (film, literature, music) that reek of the arcane, the abominable or the downright weird. These are the works of outsider art that managed beyond reason or probability to be produced inside the machine. Think of the pop song that is catchy as fuck but, also, weird beyond words, or the comedy classic that makes you sick with laughter and unusually queasy.


Letting the Eldritch Seep is a celebration of those rare occasions where the pall of horror and the outlandishness of the weird manage to slip past security. This is where the dread infects the catchy chorus and the clown blanc wears a sick grin. Consider it a reminder of those times when Hollywood let the wrong ones in and we got the right stuff as a result.


Animal House is a title immediately recognizable to moviegoers throughout the world... even if they have never seen it. It is a title so embedded in pop culture that it has become part of our lexicon. Odds are better than good that you could walk up to a hip 21-year-old in any major city in the Western world and name-drop the flick, and they would have some fundamental notion of what it's about.


This 1978 film is credited with creating the Frat comedy, which it did to a staggering level of financial success, grossing an all-time theatrical box office of $141,600,000 against a meager $3 million budget. But more impressive than its earnings, Animal House managed to make the darkness of young adulthood and the venial sins of the patriarchy palatable for a comedy-loving audience.


Every time a critic says some new movie is like a modern-day Animal House, I experience a wave of excitement, which is swiftly followed by mild irritation and, finally, inevitable disappointment. Some of us can watch a Greek letter comedy like National Lampoon's Van Wilder or the Sorority romp The House Bunny and appreciate it on its own terms as fairly innocuous, if borderline thoughtless, entertainment. But such films will never come close to Animal House in terms of reach or ambition.


Despite what some Redbubble Bluto T-shirt or Imgflip meme might have you believe, Animal House had a lot on its mind. And horror was always in the forefront. The landmark film was the brainchild of National Lampoon co-founder Douglas “Doug” Kenney, a Harvard-educated wingnut who'd begun to be courted by Hollywood after his counterculture humor magazine became a famous breeding ground for raw comic talent.


The Lampoon counted Anne Beatts (The Elvira Show, Murphy Brown), Gilda Radner (Gilda Live, Haunted Honeymoon), Joe Orlando (Mad Magazine, DC Comics) John Belushi (Saturday Night Live, The Blues Brothers), John Hughes (National Lampoon's Vacation, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off), and New York Times Best Selling Author P.J. O' Rourke (Give War a Chance, Holidays in Hell) among its contributors. When SNL turned many of these contributors into visible stars, Tinseltown came calling, and the maestro was right behind them.


Kenney's aspirations included doing prodigious amounts of cocaine and making motion pictures. And he wasn't the only one. Members of the Lampoon's Radio Hour and stage show set about adapting the magazine's landmark high school yearbook parody for the screen, but this did not pass muster with the studios. For perhaps the first and last time in Hollywood history, movie execs thought it would be sexier if the film featured college-aged characters instead of high school kids.


Animal House was never going to be your average teen sex comedy of the period. Kenney's co-authors, Harold Ramis (Analyze This, Groundhog Day, Multiplicity), John Landis (An American Werewolf in London, The Blues Brothers), and Chris Miller (Club Paradise, Multiplicity), were always going for something unhinged and decidedly unHollywood. Which must have made the prospect of spending Hollywood's money that much more amusing. 


From the outset, Animal House was something more than your average throwaway comedy. Its fledgling screenwriters were invited to pitch Universal Pictures in the form of a film treatment, a summary plot outline that generally runs anywhere from 1-15 pages in length. Instead, Kenney and company crafted a 110-page story that would need to be transformed into a proper screenplay.
 
Those with only a hazy recollection of Animal House may remember it most for its cafeteria food fighting, casual groping, drunken revelry, or pre-American Pie MILF fixation (Otter worms Dean Wormer's wife), but if you cast your mind back through the mire of age, you'll find a darkness to this comedy that existed long before dark comedies were really a thing.


Consider the now-iconic image of a Toga-clad Bluto Blutarsky (John Belushi) smashing a hipster's guitar into splinters before blithely apologizing. This clip may not seem like much in the age of Internet pranks and Logan Paul publicity stunts, but at the time it was a shocking moment and one that inspired fits of nervous laughter. Like much of Belushi's on-screen work, this sequence is driven by a fierce, raw energy that exists somewhere out there on the border of mania and fear.


To watch this scene now is to study Belushi's stubbly, bushy-browed face and big brown eyes, carefully scanning it for signs of humanity... only to find a sort of doped-out sociopathy at play. Perhaps this sequence, more than any of the countless date rape jokes strewn throughout college comedies of the time (and since) shows us how dangerously bored and desensitized teenagers have become.


Then again, maybe Bluto is just in shock from other events. Chaos seems to follow at the heels of the Delta House boys (or maybe it's the other way around). Case in point: the plot to kill Niedermyer's horse. Typically, horror publishers refuse to touch any novel of the macabre that relishes in animal cruelty. But in 1978, a studio comedy made an extended sight gag out of preparing a prized horse for the proverbial glue factory.


There is a demonic sense of humor at work all throughout this bizarre film, one that creeps through virtually every frame. It isn't something necessarily discernible to those who aren't looking for it, but it is very obviously intentional on the part of its authors, university alums who recognized the preternatural rituals of college life.


If you've seen the film, you know; it lives in the dim recesses of your brain—a flame-lit, shadow-shrouded shot of Kevin Bacon getting ruthlessly spanked by two paddle-wielding Frat elders in creepy cloaks, the ominous organ music rising up as if plucked from a Poverty Row zombie flick, and the Eyes Wide Shut-worthy chant of “Thank you, sir. May I have another!”


Another sequence features dialogue that wouldn't be out of place on the sleeve of a low-budget video nasty. Every Halloween, the trees are filled with underwear. Every spring, the toilets explode. 


And if Animal House hadn't become the mainstream hit that it did, it's easy to imagine it getting a second life on the grindhouse circuit. How could it not with lines like “a 'Roman Toga Party' was held from which we have received more than two dozen reports of individual acts of perversion so profound and disgusting that decorum prohibits listing them here.”


This is to say nothing of the black-and-red Deathmobile or the aptly-named “D-Day” (My Cousin Vinny's Bruce McGill) driving !up! a flight of stairs before playing the William Tell Overture on his Adam's apple, or the menacing leer of Dean Wormer as he declares “double secret probation.” This is weird comedy long before Tim & Eric created a niche out of it, and it is wicked in its wicked humor in a way rarely glimpsed in the annals of American humor.


Picture the scene where Pinto (Tom Hulce), Schoenstein (Peter Riegert), and Katy (Karen Allen) visit Professor Dave's digs. This enigmatic authority figure apparently lives somewhere on campus, a move that would surely be unacceptable or, at least, frowned upon today. 


As his name, face, and temperament would have you assume, Dave is a creep. The scene in question finds the young Pinto and friends asking Professor Dave about pot, which leads the crusty creeper to lower his blinds, dim the lights, and lock his door before grinning maniacally at the innocent Pinto. From here, we dissolve to a candlelit tableau of the teacher sharing a joint with the kids and advising Pinto on how to inhale (and not drool so much). 


Professor Dave doesn't look so much stoned as annoyed while watching Schoenstein singing a love duet with Katy, but his face registers slobbering bleary-eyed lasciviousness when Pinto talks to him about the nature of atomic particles and the solar system. The scene is funny for any number of reasons, but it is especially funny because of the inherent anachronism of the guy playing Professor Dave. 


Who thought it made perfect sense to cast Donald Sutherland, the guy from Invasion of the Body Snatchers, in a movie about college kids cutting loose in the 1960s? Whomever it was, they deserve a big sloppy kiss... or a nice slobbering, bleary-eyed stare. Like a horror film, Animal House plays off the unfamiliar, uncanny, unexpected, and taboo.


Animal House's longevity has less to do with beer-swilling idiocy or horndog hi-jinks, and more to do with its innate oddness. The film endures because its darkest, most iniquitous instincts make for a more memorable film than some disposable stroke film like '77's The Van or '78's Malibu Beach. The hilarity is rough-hewn and the hijinks are potentially traumatizing. It's a mainstream movie that manages to feel genuinely dangerous, which was a rare act in '78 and an even rarer one in 2023.

In this story, the love and underlying tension between the two is tested to its extreme. I grew up with two brothers, so the themes of brotherly love, jealousy, motherhood, and family resonate strongly with me. Likewise, the power play between the brothers, Matty's yearning to have a real mom, and Jack's desperate attempt to be a father and brother to Matty at the same time are themes equally important to me. We worked with a sensitivity consultant to ensure we correctly and respectfully portrayed Matty's emotionally unstable personality disorder (EUPD). Part of that is to treat his character like any other and not make his condition a point of the story. Instead, we consciously tried to convey his EUPD as just another aspect of his character that was present but not dramatised especially.

Neil wrote the character of JACK for himself, and he was living 'in character' on set, which came out in his intense performance. One of the more challenging roles was Roger Ajogbe as PA: he was only allowed to act with his eyes, so I wrote internal monologues for him to 'think' to give him the right headspace for each scene. All the actors truly got into their characters on set, subscribing to varying degrees of method acting, which I tried to support the best I could and think translated to great performances on set.

And while the film is dark and twisted, I wanted to make sure that we can understand the warped logic of each of the protagonists, however psychopathic they turn out to be. With 'Little Bone Lodge,' I wanted to do a film where every element is considered, placed, and choreographed to create tension and mystery and carve the characters into our brains in the most vivid and gut-wrenching way. I also cherished the notion of trying to keep wrong-footing the audience:

The warm, loving mother turns out to be someone entirely different from what we anticipated. The villainous brother seems to have a heart of gold but then reveals his selfish side. The innocent juvenile turns out to be tough as nails. Visually, I wanted to embrace the darkness of the characters and capture the film with dark and moody imagery full of grit, dirt, and texture. The camera is a character in this story: shooting one camera hand-held allowed me to get close to the actor's eye-line and really feel empathy for them.

I aimed to heighten the feeling of isolation and hopelessness by contrasting the claustrophobic character closeups with epic landscapes (which I filmed myself in Scotland). I collaborated with DOP Job Reinecke, and we used an Arri Alexa LF camera and my favourite lenses, the Canon K35's, which are both sharp but have a pleasing vintage flair and character (As used in "Aliens"). We shot wide open as often as possible, again to heighten the characters' sense of isolation. For the soundtrack, I worked with my frequent collaborator, Christopher Carmichael, who combined experimental soundscapes with terrifying beats and haunting melodies, to draw us into the film.

We explored plenty of experimental synth machines, analogue instruments like the viking violin, and makeshift drums. I tried to make the viewer experience a Hitchcockian delight in the twisted darkness of the characters and story. We know something is off, but we don't know what. Dramatic Irony, suspense, and the depth of the characters should keep us glued to the screen and want to take the viewer to a place worse than death and serve up a story impossible to forget.

My film output so far has been eclectic in tone. Still, for my next movie, I look forward to combining the straight-laced actor-driven work I've done with 'Little Bone Lodge' with a twist of comedy, science fiction, or other elements of the crazy stuff that goes on in the head of Hoene. Watch this space. ​