October means something different to everyone. To kids, it’s a chance to collect candy that they would never otherwise have in their possession (what grown-ass person buys Charleston Chews and gives them out on Halloween? Straighten your bow tie and waltz back into that time slip, weirdo). For dudes that wear powder blue Charger jerseys, tall black socks, and look like the drummer in The Offspring, October means it’s time to shotgun down Bud Lite cans outside of Ashley’s place in Carlsbad while a Sublime CD skips in the background. Baseball fans get playoff action. Moms and dads get to argue about which pie they want from Marie Callender’s (“David, the pumpkin pie has too much allspice we’re going with apple.”) And masochistic movie watchers, like myself, get to OCD-watch horror films from a myriad of streaming locations.
When I say a myriad of locations, I really mean Fandor. This particular service propels schlock, 1950s b-movies, gorecore, grindhouse, lofi slashers, monster movies, and endless other genres under one blood lacquered umbrella. It’s overwhelming, often times confusing, and perpetually gratifying in a sort of shrug inducing way. Why am I watching this 1971 movie about a shack being haunted by a ninja shaman with a thrift store saber? Oh, cool, a 1958 film about a reanimated corpse from Pompeii. The movie academics always mention when they talk about the golden age of horror. Of course Fandor does have great, hallmark creature features (“Creature from the Black Lagoon” is my eternal love). Meanwhile, Dennis Hopper’s haunted sonnet, “Night Tide,” is a pleasant, sometimes weird trek, into the unknown. When you spin the wheel on this particular streaming service you could get a wonderful surprise or a brick of nonsense (“Kiss of the Tarantula,” what are you, even?).
With seven days left in the month, I’m on pace to watch at least six to ten more bullshit movies that contain bad, putty monsters or cloaked murderers with wobbly knives. Tonight’s feature is called “Lemora: A Child’s Tale of the Supernatural: Port of Call New Orleans” from 1973. I can only assume that dusty books are opened, “The Neverending Story”-style, while a kid walks around to cymbal crashing music for ninety-minutes.
With the large collection of films on Fandor, you could basically stream your own self-curated horror channel. When the movies are bad, it’s an education in period production and budgetary restrictions. When the movies are good, you feel like you just found a long-lost relic and your hit points go up. It’s basically win-win. If I make it out of this month with my bearings, it will be a miracle. In the interim, go check out, like, my favorite company ever for Hallostream (does someone have a copyright on that yet?).