ATTACK FROM THE ‘80S, EDITED BY EUGENE JOHNSON [BOOK REVIEW]

20/12/2021

Attack from the ‘80s is an overall “bitchin’” collection of 1980s-saturated fare from one of the most skilled curators of horror today. The stories may be sprinkled with videotape icons to indicate scene breaks (a particularly jaunty touch), but the tales here are far from reproductions. Cheers to this lineup of writers who breathed new life into a well-trodden theme.

Attack from the ‘80s, edited by Eugene Johnson

Publisher ‏ : ‎ Raw Dog Screaming Press (9 Nov. 2021)
Language ‏ : ‎ English
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 266 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1735664448
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1735664446

A book review by Re becca Rowland

Let’s face it. Eugene Johnson has the Midas touch. I can’t think of a project where he was at the helm that didn’t blow me away in terms of both content and writing style, and his latest release, Attack from the 80s, is no exception. Featuring speculative stories interspaced with black and white drawings of iconography from the Decade of Excess and introduced by a foreword from Mick Garris (Critters 2, The Fly II, Amazing Stories), Attack is a funhouse ride, not just for those who long for the days of jelly bracelets, boombox pop, and Aqua Net-glazed hairstyles, but for horror fans who like their dark fiction colored in originality as bright as Wham!’s Day-Glo ensembles. All of the contributors are established authors, but their offerings are anything but routine.

In “The Devil in the Details,” Ben Monroe’s protagonist Tom is a recent college graduate, a California transplant from back East attending a Halloween party in the Hollywood Hills. After an encounter with a mysterious Svengali at the soiree, Tom wakes up two days later with no memory of the time in between and a fateful invitation on his answering machine. “He started thinking about something he’d read in the newspaper a few days ago, about some dogs the cops had found eviscerated in the 6th Street viaducts. The reporters called everything satanic lately.” Monroe’s writing is meticulous in its period details, down to the wealth of era-specific song titles worked neatly into the background of an age when cult ritual panic dotted police blotters more frequently than spilled coffee stains. Bonus points for the author’s insertion of a “No Masks!” mandate taped to the entrance of a bodega as a bit of contemporary irony.

Nicole’s wedding in three weeks promises to be typical ‘80s fare, complete with a poofy wedding dress, teal party frocks, and an embarrassment of big hairdos. In Lee Murray’s “Permanent Damage,” as the bridesmaids gather at the salon to prepare for their friend’s big day, what was intended as an ode to Whitney Houston’s 1987 curly bouffant transforms into a nightmare of Gorgonian proportions. Murray’s delightful bizarro-monster mashup serves bridezilla allegory with a generous helping of tongue-in-cheek dialogue, climaxing in a scene involving Phil Collins’ “Sussudio” that can’t help but remind the reader of Patrick Bateman donning a plastic raincoat in preparation for his axe attack in American Psycho. Also on the body horror ticket is Rena Mason’s “The White Room”: “if someone had told her she’d meet and marry the man of her dreams while attending Columbia and then spend her weekends torturing and humiliating him in the basement of their house…she wouldn’t have believed it.” And yet, Caroline and her Big Pharma CEO husband are living that dream, complete with a full body restraint, ball gag, and occasional stabbings of kitchen utensils into Richard’s extremities. This lifestyle goes beyond boudoir BDSM, however: Richard insists it’s a routine he requires to appease “the corporate monster that drove his success,” and one Monday afternoon, Caroline will understand just what he means by that.

Like the anthology’s editor, Tim Waggoner is a sure thing when betting on standouts, even among an arsenal of veteran horror scribes. In “Slashbacks,” Dwayne isn’t “some impulsive, erratic teenager who acted without thinking. He was the kind of man who paid his bills on time, made sure to put a little money in savings every pay period, filed his taxes early, saw his physician regularly, ate right, and exercised (a little, anyway).” When he makes the impulsive decision to stop into a new video store that specializes in horror and picks up a few tapes to peruse, he discovers that the cover art contains images that are disturbingly familiar. Waggoner’s plot shimmies between adult Dwayne and his younger self, and the painful adolescent memories are some that will be recognizable (if not frighteningly reminiscent) for many readers, especially if their own infatuation with horror has been met with pleas from parents and partners to “just do something normal for a change, ok?” If the main floor contains familiar terrors, though, what might be lurking in the back room?

My personal favorite in the collection is Stephanie M. Wytovich’s “Mother Knows Best.” In it, Eden’s mum had been dating her teacher for three years, but when a violent incident ends the relationship, Mr. Myers returns to Eden’s home to discuss it. Although all of Attack’s stories are dark in their own ways, “Mother” is a particular unsettling entry. “He took a sip of his drink, his moustache wet, shining under the soft overhead light. He wore a white button-down shirt and a pair of salmon chinos, no socks. A professional-but-relaxed-look for a man who was anything but professional and should definitely not be relaxed.” Wytovich’s slow-burn development creeps stealthily under the skin until the discomfort erupts into a full-blown anxiety attack. Readers will not be able to put the story down until its deliciously horrific conclusion.

Attack from the ‘80s is an overall “bitchin’” collection of 1980s-saturated fare from one of the most skilled curators of horror today. The stories may be sprinkled with videotape icons to indicate scene breaks (a particularly jaunty touch), but the tales here are far from reproductions. Cheers to this lineup of writers who breathed new life into a well-trodden theme.