POSSESSION (1981) starring Isabelle Adjani and Sam Neill

Andrzej Żuławski's cult psychological horror is the latest installment in Project 60-For-60 (one horror film from each year that I've been alive), and it pretty much defies description. 

Ostensibly, the film tells the story of Mark (Sam Neill), a spy who returns home to his wife, Anna (Isabelle Adjani) and discovers that she is having an affair. The two quarrel, fight, grind meat, and cut themselves with an electric carving knife, all while trying (poorly) to care for their son, Bob. 

Anna leaves, Mark hires detectives to follow her, meets her doppleganger and starts having a twisted relationship with Heinrich, Anna's aforementioned lover.

Set in Cold War West Berlin, the flick has been interpreted as the breakup of a country, as well as a reflection on a bitter divorce. Whatever it is, you have to admire how much everyone involved flat out swings for the fences. It's really not my particular cup of tea (it's a little long and the way it jumps from relationship drama to psycho horror to monster movie can be disorienting), but it's pretty much essential viewing.

My previous exposure to the film was its original video release, which ditched about 30 minutes and made me ponder its cult status. This time out I watched the uncut two-hour version streaming on Shudder, which doesn't make a ton of sense either, but I certainly appreciated it more.

Much is made of Adjani's fearless performance (and rightly so after that subway sequence), but Sam Neill goes above and beyond as the tortured Mark. This was the same year as his portrayal of Satan's spawn Damien Thorn in OMEN III: THE FINAL CONFLICT and a couple years before the tv series REILLY: ACE OF SPIES catapulted him to leading man status.

For an evening that will have you questioning your sanity, pair this up with IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS and EVENT HORIZON. 

Next up? ALONE IN THE DARK (1982)! — Dan Taylor

THE DEVIL’S RAIN (1975) starring Ernest Borgnine and William Shatner

“Give Corbis what belongs to him!”

We finish out the first ten years of 60-For-60 with yet another William Shatner vehicle (hot on the heels of 1974’s sweat-soaked gigolo shocker IMPULSE), though this baby belongs lock stock and barrel to Oscar winner Ernest Borgnine.

After his father melts in front of his mother (Ida Lupino) and him, Mark Preston (Shatner) heads down to old, abandoned Redstone to make a deal with John Corbis, Satan’s Minister on Earth (Ernie B). Seems the Preston family is in possession of Corbis’ book of possessed souls, and he wants it back, so Mark bets his soul/freedom against the book. Is Mark’s faith stronger than that of Corbis?

It’s not, so it’s up to Dr. Tom Preston (Tom Skerritt!) to return home and figure out what happened to his family. Along for the ride is Tom’s wife Julie, who had visions of covens, upside down crosses and Satanic rituals during her recent ESP experiment and seems to be somewhat of a wax expert.

When Julie gets abducted by Corbis and his minions (including John Travolta!), it’s up to Tom and his pal Dr. Richards (Eddie Albert) to save the day and make it rain. The Devil’s Rain!

I’m not sure how or why this slice of Satanic Seventies Sinema flew under my radar for so long. It’s got the desolate vibe of THE HILLS HAVE EYES (1977) and RACE WITH THE DEVIL (1975), but always had a bit of a crappy reputation. But, as I’ve learned in the past (like in the case of THE SENTINEL and PROPHECY), other people are idiots and their opinions should never be trusted.

Director Robert Fuest (ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES and its sequel) packs the flick’s 86-minute running time with sacrifices, explosions, flashbacks (Pilgrim Borgnine!), and plenty of melting eyeless minions. 

But this is Borgnine’s show—from his aw-shucks toothy grin and extra husky Satan robes to his transformation into a goat-horned demon, he really seems to be having a blast. – Dan Taylor

THE OILY MANIAC (1976) starring Danny Lee

“Everybody’s a suspect. Except for the cripple.”

I grew up on a steady diet of Hong Kong cinema focused on the most chop-sockeyest of the genre. Saturday afternoons on Philly UHF were packed with every Bruce Le, Bruce Li, Dragon Lee, Bruce Lai, and Bruce Lo movie you could imagine. But I don’t recall getting a whole lot of the Hong Kong horrors of the era. It wasn’t until the days of video stores and grey market tape trading circles that I saw things like INFRA-MAN (1975), WOLFEN NINJA (1982), or BLACK MAGIC 2 (1976), even in their worst forms.

THE OILY MANIAC (1976) has long been talked about by my friends as one of the wildest flicks of an era where Hong Kong martial arts cinema intersected with the new wave of 70s horror after the success of flicks like THE EXORCIST.

They were not wrong.

Danny Lee (THE KILLER, DR. LAMB, INFRA-MAN) stars as Shen Yuan, a downtrodden, polio-afflicted office worker in a sleazy law firm. His boss makes a fortune working both sides of business deals and pushing clients into pursuing phony cases.

When a coconut oil plantation owner is forced to sell his business AND ends up killing someone, he’s sentenced to death. Yuan visits him before his execution and traces a talisman tattooed on his back. Despite the crippling polio that forces him to walk with crutches, Yuan follows the talisman’s instructions, uses a pickaxe to dig a hole in the middle of his home, chants an incantation, and emerges as The Oily Maniac, a sort of proto-Toxic Avenger who dispenses justice to rapists, would-be rapists, sleazy lawyers and their mistress, kung-fu henchmen, unlicensed plastic surgeons, and more.

It’s as nutty as it sounds, with Yuan hopping into vats of bubbling goo and dousing himself with gasoline to transform into the titular “hero”. Nobody in the flick is all that defensible, the cops are idiots (as usual), and the whole thing is a chaotic mess.

But who cares?! You’ll love the ripped-off JAWS theme, Dollar Tree transformation sequences, Asian Bill Hader, regenerating limbs and head (!), and more T&A than your typical slice of Asian cinema. – Dan Taylor

IMPULSE (1974) starring William Shatner

“You can’t judge a hot dog by its skin.”

William Shatner stars as Matt Stone, a sleazy con artist/gigolo who prowls Florida looking for rich women to seduce and bilk out of their money. When his current mark confronts him after seeing him playing tonsil hockey with a belly dancer, Stone kills her in a fit of rage.

In search of his next payday, Stone gains the confidence of Julia (Ruth Roman), a wealthy older woman who introduces him to Ann (Jennifer Bishop), a lonely widower. Coincidentally, Stone had recently given a ride to Ann’s precocious daughter Tina (Kim Nicholas) after almost running her down—don’t ask. Matt and Ann strike up a relationship, while Tina grows suspicious of the leisure suit-wearing lothario. (The film’s working title was the icky WANT A RIDE, LITTLE GIRL?)

When Stone’s old cellmate Karate Pete (GOLDFINGER’s Harold Sakata!) rolls into town in his RV, it’s not because he misses his buddy. Karate Pete has heard Stone is working a hustle and wants in on the action. The reunion turns deadly, Tina discovers what Stone is capable of, and must convince her mother that he’s up to no good before it’s too late. Also, it’s fun to write “Karate Pete.”

Directed by William Grefé (STANLEY, MAKO: THE JAWS OF DEATH, WHISKEY MOUNTAIN with Christopher George), IMPULSE is a sweaty, grimy sleazer that predates the similar SCREAM FOR HELP (1984) and THE STEPFATHER (1987). Shatner, embarking on the low-budget era that would bring us THE DEVIL’S RAIN (my 1975 selection!) and the creepy KINGDOM OF THE SPIDERS, was still five years away from reviving his flagging career with STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE. Here he looks both bemused and embarrassed by the material, though Grefé makes sure to placate his star by having a bevy of women throw themselves at The Shat.

One wonders what would have become of Shatner without the career rebirth that resulted from the success of STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN (1982) and subsequent TREK flicks as well as the tv series T.J. HOOKER. Is there a multiverse where that Shatner embraced and excelled in the exploitation underbelly, carving out a straight-to-video career to rival that of Wings Hauser?

Up next — more Shatner with 1975’s THE DEVIL’S RAIN! – Dan Taylor

THE CRAZIES (1973) directed by George A. Romero

After dabbling in melodrama (1971’s THERE’S ALWAYS VANILLA) and bored housewives spicing up their lives with witchcraft (1973’s HUNGRY WIVES), George Romero returned to his horror roots with THE CRAZIES (aka CODE NAME: TRIXIE).

Though it shares some small-town horror elements with NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968), THE CRAZIES is broader in scope and deals with Evans City, a small PA town north of Pittsburgh faced with an unexpected disaster. When a military plane crashes nearby and releases its deadly cargo into the water supply, those exposed either die or, well, go crazy. After the Army moves in to cut off the town and prevent the virus from spreading across the country, a band of locals finds themselves on the run.

Had Romero kept the story focused on their struggle to survive/escape, THE CRAZIES might be more successful. Unfortunately, he tries to juggle a half-dozen storylines, including frustrated military personnel, government brass wrestling with the idea of having to nuke the town, a scientist searching for a cure, and squads of gas-mask-clad soldiers trying to round up the locals who are becoming more and more resistant. The result is a lot of shouting, overacting, and dialogue filtered through radio speakers or muffled gas masks.

Eventually, THE CRAZIES finds its footing and focuses on buddies Dave and Clank, and Dave’s pregnant girlfriend, Judy, a nurse for the local doctor. Can they get past the Army’s tightening perimeter? Will the military seal off Evans City and find a cure? Will the politicians really nuke a small town in order to save their own ass?

THE CRAZIES is as ambitious as hell but may have been better suited to Romero’s “studio” days after the cult success of DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978). (It was remade in 2010 with Timothy Olyphant and Danielle Panabaker.) There are definite seeds of DAWN in the film’s core relationship—the levelheaded hero and his increasingly loose-cannon sidekick—but by the time you care about them it’s a bit too late. — Dan Taylor

HORROR EXPRESS (1972) starring Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Telly Savalas

"Whatever you have here is unholy — and must be destroyed!"

This was a tough year to select an entry for my 60-For-60 Horror Watchlist. It’s a classic year for horror, filled with ripe-for-the-picking choices like TALES FROM THE CRYPT, HUNCHBACK OF THE MORGUE, and THE NIGHT STALKER. But I couldn’t resist a rewatch of this underrated Spanish horror production starring Christopher Lee, longtime buddy Peter Cushing, a pre-stardom Telly Savalas, and a guy who is most definitely not Paul Naschy (Alberto de Mendoza).

A 1906 expedition led by Professor Saxton (Lee) unearths an ape-like creature frozen in a cave, which is crated up and placed on the Trans-Siberian Express. Scientific rival Doctor Wells (Cushing) is also on board and can’t help but wonder what Saxton has in that giant crate. Faster than you can say “there’s the stink of hell on this train” the thing is turning people’s eyeballs egg white and boiling their brains.

Puzzled by the murders—and those smooth, boiled brains—Saxton and Wells set out to solve the mystery while Not Paul Naschy has a complete breakdown, Kojak shows up with his Cossacks, and that detective won’t take his one hand out of his pocket.

Cushing lost his beloved wife just prior to filming and leaned on his old pal Lee to get him through the shoot, which gives the entire affair a sense of melancholy. The whole endeavor has an endearing turn-of-the-century period sci-fi vibe and this fun, claustrophobic, period take on ‘Who Goes There?’ deserves more love. – Dan Taylor

The Wizard of Gore (1970) directed by HG Lewis

“Are you certain you know what reality is?”

Next up in my 60-For-60 Horror Watchathon is this surreal, bonkers gorefest from the one and only Godfather of Gore, Herschell Gordon Lewis. For those of you unfamiliar with his work, Lewis—who became a millionaire thanks to his expertise in direct mail advertising—started out making nudie flicks in the 1950s. When the bottom fell out of that market (no pun intended), he turned his attention to films the big budget studios couldn’t or wouldn’t make. His 1963 low-budget shocker BLOOD FEAST pushed the genre into gross-out territory and created the modern gorefest.

THE WIZARD OF GORE focuses on Montag the Magnificent (Ray Sager), a top hat-clad magician who looks to be just another two-bit hack. After shouting at the audience about dreams vs. reality and mankind’s bloodthirst for spectacle, Montag welcomes a volunteer from the audience for the ol’ “saw a woman in half” bit. But this is no hacksaw and fake limbs trickery. Montag fires up an electric chainsaw and paints the screen red with buckets of blood and half the meat section at the local Kroger’s.

But what’s this? Despite all evidence to the contrary, the victim appears fine and heads off to a local restaurant after the show. Where she promptly bleeds out all over the floor, much to the dismay of her fellow diners.

Fascinated by Montag’s “act”, daytime talk show host Sherry (Judy Cler) arranges for tickets for his next show, despite her sportswriter boyfriend’s protests. Not content to repeat the same gag, Montag proceeds to pound a metal spike into another audience member’s skull. And, like the first victim, she walks away unscathed, only to die later from her wounds.

Is there a psycho on the loose who gets turned on by Montag’s stunts? Or is Montag himself killing his victims to satisfy some sick and twisted desire?

While you ponder those questions, Lewis piles on the gore with punch press pulverizing, forced sword swallowing, eyeball violence, teeth knocked out, and more—all while the audience sits there dumbfounded, mesmerized by Montag’s antics.

Is it all in their minds? Is it all in Montag’s mind? Or are we just dreaming, and not really watching a movie at all?

THE WIZARD OF GORE is one of those films you’re either going to love or hate. Sager (who went on to have a successful career as a producer) gives a, um, unique performance, shouting most of his lines in a ham-fisted fashion that makes more sense when you discover he was a crew member who stepped in after the original “star” walked off the set.

Admittedly, Lewis and screenwriter Allen Kahn aren’t really interested in tying the film up in a nice, tight bow. Characters wonder out loud about all the same questions the viewer has, and, as Lewis says in the intro to the flick, THE WIZARD OF GORE defies definition.

THE WIZARD OF GORE remains a completely over-the-top head-scratcher that’s more fun than BLOOD FEAST but not as good a movie as Lewis’s 2000 MANIACS (1964). In 2007, the film was remade with Crispin Glover as Montag. I’ve never watched it, but now that I know it features Jeffrey Combs and Brad Dourif, I may have to. – Dan Taylor

The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971) starring Vincent Price, Joesph Cotten

The 1970s roll on in my 60-For-60 Horror Watchlist with this oddball horror comedy starring the great Vincent Price as a brilliant, presumed-dead concert organist out for revenge in London circa 1925.

When several doctors die under bizarre circumstances (bee sting-induced boils, flesh-eating bats, blood-drained perverts), Scotland Yard is suitably baffled. The dogged Inspector Trout traces the dead doctors to the team of Dr. Vesalius (Joseph Cotten), who helps him deduce that the murders are the work of Phibes.

Authorities believed Phibes perished in a car accident while racing home after the death of his beloved wife, Victoria (an uncredited Caroline Munro), but they surmise that he faked his death and is naturally using the Ten Plagues of Egypt as inspiration for his crimes. Aided by his silent but deadly sidekick Vulnavia (Virginia North in the last of her five film roles), Phibes continues to elude Scotland Yard, despite their best efforts to protect Vesalius and his team.

Directed by Robert Fuest from a script by James Whiton and William Goldstein, THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES is a wonderfully droll piece of work. There’s no mystery to the story as we know from the outset that Phibes and Vulnavia are behind the murders. Trout and his fellow inspectors bumble about and are spectacularly inept at preventing the murders of Vesalius’ team (one doctor is literally impaled as they’re trying to whisk him away to safety), and you’re never sure if they will solve the case, capture Phibes, or prevent the final murder.

PHIBES features eye-catching cinematography and art deco set design, as well as iconic skull makeup for the unmasked Phibes that must have given early 70s horror-kids nightmares. Produced for American International Pictures, DR. PHIBES earned more than a million dollars at the box office and was followed by 1972’s DR. PHIBES RISES AGAIN, directed by Fuest and starring Price and Robert Quarry. – Dan Taylor

THE HOUSE THAT SCREAMED (1969) European proto-slasher starring Lilli Palmer

The latest installment in my 60-for-60 Horror Challenge is this spooky, intense, psychological proto-slasher from Spain. 

Teresa is dropped off at a home for wayward girls by a "friend of her mother's". The school (wannabe prison) is run by Mademoiselle Fourneau (Lilli Palmer), a strict headmistress who uses spies among the students to ferret out secrets and information. 

Teresa strikes up a friendship with Fourneau's son Louis, who is frequently reminded that the girls there are no good for him. When girls begin disappearing and her torment at the hands of Fourneau's flunkies gets to be too much, Teresa plans her escape. 

Top notch European horror that would influence genre classics including SUSPIRIA and PIECES. — Dan Taylor

NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968) directed by George Romero

“Kill the brain, kill the ghoul.” 

Imagine being a kid in 1968 and having your folks drop you off at a Saturday matinee of the latest horror film. Raised on a steady diet of black & white Universal frighfests, Hammer horrors, and Z-grade monster flicks you grab your popcorn and soda, only to be thrust into arguably the most groundbreaking horror film of the late 1960s. 

Mind. Blown. (No pun intended.) 

George A. Romero’s NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD raised the bar for horror cinema thanks to its documentary feel, racial and sexual tension, nudity, and gore. Made on the cheap with producers sharing the screen with real actors, it’s one of the great independent films of all time, and a landmark of the horror genre.

Barbara and her brother Johnny bicker as they drive into the country to place flowers at their father’s grave. When they spy a lumbering figure in the graveyard (Bill Hinzman, who turned his brief appearance into a cottage industry), Johnny taunts his sister, only to end up conking his head on a tombstone after the ghoul attacks them (the word “zombie” is never used). The young woman escapes and seeks refuge in a secluded farmhouse, only for it to be surrounded by the shuffling figures.

Ben (Duane Jones) arrives in a truck and helps barricade the home. Eventually, the pair are joined by fellow survivors who have sought shelter in the farmhouse basement: a young couple who were on their way to a swimming hole, and an older couple whose daughter was attacked and bitten by a ghoul. Ben (a young black man) and Cooper (an older white man played by producer Karl Hardman) argue about the safest course of action, bringing the racial and generational issues playing out in the country onto the big screen.

Romero ratchets up the tension between the two factions, and it becomes clear that this is a battle nobody is going to truly “win”.

I’d forgotten that the zombies in this first installment are swifter and more organized than what we’d see years later in DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978) and DAY OF THE DEAD (1985). They smash car headlights and give the survivors tougher foes to combat than the brain dead, blue-skinned monsters who shuffle through the Monroeville Mall. And, despite our hopes that they’ll band together and survive to fight another day, Romero serves up a nihilistic ending that still delivers a powerful gut punch no matter how many times you’ve seen it. 

A handful of films absolutely changed cinema. This is one of them. — Dan Taylor

EYE OF THE DEVIL (1967) starring David Niven

Okay, so my 1967 installment is a slight cheat, but I’ll explain. While the film was released in Italy in 1966 and the United Kingdom in 1968, it had its American debut in December of 1967 in—of all places—Wisconsin. Regardless, I’ve had my eye on this one (no pun intended) for some time, and it’s my viewing challenge. So there. 

David Niven—whom I only know from things like THE PINK PANTHER (1963) and its sequels, MURDER BY DEATH (1976), and ROUGH CUT (1980)—stars as Philippe, a French aristocrat living in Paris with his wife Catherine (Deborah Kerr in a role originally given to Kim Novak) and their two children. After the third year of barren crops at the family vineyards, he is summoned to the ancestral home at Bellenac. There, weirdo priest Pere Dominic (Donald Pleasence) gives him a spooky amulet while towheaded siblings Christian (David Hemmings) and Odile (Sharon Tate in her first role) lurk around. 

Despite Philippe’s protests, Catherine brings the kids to Bellenac and slowly but surely she pieces together what we’ve all known from the get-go: somebody has to pay the price for the crappy harvest and that guy is Philippe. 

Directed by journeyman J. Lee Thompson (GUNS OF NAVARONE, CAPE FEAR, CONQUEST OF THE PLANET OF THE APES, THE EVIL THAT MEN DO, 10 TO MIDNIGHT, DEATH WISH 4: THE CRACKDOWN), the flick doesn’t hold a lot of surprises. Philippe returns, there’s some clandestine meetings with hooded creeps, and then it’s time to pay the piper. Not nearly as memorable or sinister as folk horror classics like THE WICKER MAN (1973) or BLOOD ON SATAN’S CLAW (1971), EYE benefits from the black and white photography (it would be the last MGM film released in the format), and the presence of Hemmings and Tate as sinister siblings. — Dan Taylor

KILL, BABY ... KILL! (1966) directed by Mario Bava

It’s the early 1900s, and Dr. Eswai has been summoned to a remote European village to perform an autopsy on the body of young Irena Hollander. Pursued by an unseen force, she hurled herself from a church bell tower onto spike below, and the superstitious townspeople are in no hurry to help the good doctor.

With the assistance of Inspector Kruger, Eswai retrieve’s Irena’s body and conducts an examination with the lovely Monica (Erika Blanc) as his assistant. Monica is no stranger to the town or its customs, having spent the first couple years of her life there.

After finding a silver coin embedded in Irena’s heart, Eswai learns that the town is gripped by superstition. Melissa, the young daughter of the town’s Baroness, died at the age of seven, pursuing a ball while drunk villagers ignored her cries for help. As legend has it, the vengeful ghost curses anyone who comes in contact with her. When Nadienne, the daughter of the local innkeepers, encounters the creepy kid, the village witch wraps her in a leech vine, which Eswai considers archaic nonsense and removes. Nadienne dies due to the deadly curse, further turning the townsfolk against the well-meaning doctor. 

Can Eswai solve the town’s deadly mystery? Is it truly the work of a vengeful spirit, or is there a more rational explanation to the deadly shenanigans? 

KILL, BABY ... KILL! is the eleventh film from Italian horror maestro Mario Bava and considered by many as his best work. I don’t feel that strongly about the flick, but it’s not due to its quality. Bava maintains a brisk pace for a Gothic period piece—usually my Kryptonite—and keeps the viewer guessing (though one twist is obvious early on). The ghostly Melissa (played by a young man) ratchets up the film’s fear factor, while Bava’s trademark lighting and visuals like swirling staircase, hidden crypts, and misty village streets add to the film’s mystery and visual impact. 

Though the film was a box office hit in Bava’s native country during its original release (outgrossing the director’s BLACK SUNDAY and BLACK SABBATH), its cultural impact is its true legacy. Both Martin Scorcese and David Lynch acknowledge the film’s influence on their work, while Federico Fellini lifted the idea of the ghostly child and their bouncing ball for the ‘Toby Dammit’ segment of the 1968 anthology flick SPIRITS OF THE DEAD. 

Personally, I prefer Bava’s contributions to the giallo genre (especially HATCHET FOR THE HONEYMOON and BAY OF BLOOD), but I dug KILL, BABY ... KILL!, especially for its look, feel, and pacing, especially in a genre that I frequently find snooze-inducing. (Also known as OPERATION FEAR, CURSE OF THE DEAD, and my favorite, THE DEAD EYES OF DR. DRACULA.) – Dan Taylor

60-For-60 Introduction: 60 Horror Films from 1966 to 2026

So, I turn 60 (gasp!) next year. Whenever I reach one of those nice round numbers, I always look to undertake some sort of movie-viewing project (even if I don’t complete it). This time I’ve decided to dedicate my ‘60-for-60’ to my beloved genre of horror. 

My introduction to horror came, oddly enough, at the hands of the great Abbott & Costello. Their movies aired after church every Sunday on one of the local Philly UHF channels (I believe it was WKBS-48) and their wonderful monster-mash ABBOTT & COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN (1948) was my gateway horror film. It remains, to this day, my favorite horror-comedy. 

My mom, the true movie nut in our household, said that if I liked that, I should probably start sampling the classic Universal horrors that ran every weekend on the local stations. (Thank you, 1970s television!) THE GHOST OF FRANKENSTEIN (1942) was next, and I was hooked. 

Universal led to Hammer, which led to trashy cable viewings, VHS rentals, and spending afternoons cutting classes in Philly to go catch Lucio Fulci’s 7 DOORS OF DEATH (1981), watching NIGHT OF THE ZOMBIES (1980) with out-of-order reels at the drive-in, consuming copious amounts of beer along with ALIEN: CONTAMINATION (1980) at my buddy’s house, or hopping around area theaters soaking in every moment of DEMONS (1985), EVIL DEAD 2 (1987), DAY OF THE DEAD (1985), LIFEFORCE (1985—which I’m seeing on the big screen again tonight!), and more while scribbling notes for our trash cinema zine. 

My goal isn’t to focus on new viewings, though I hope to lean into stuff I haven’t seen as well as flicks that are crying out for a rewatch. But I hope you’ll forgive me if a certain year rolls around and I just can’t help indulging in a JAWS (1975) or a RE-ANIMATOR (1985). — Dan Taylor

Dan Taylor is the editor/publisher of Exploitation Retrospect and The Hungover Gourmet. He used to think 60 was old.