If there’s one thing I recognize from exploring the horror genre over the past 15 years, subjecting myself to everything from the slickest Hollywood remake to the barest-of-bones backyard indie feature, it’s that my appreciation and/or tolerance for weird and wild cinema has deepened and grown. Where once poor dubbing, acting, or penniless production value would have instantly turned me off of a film, I now find myself able to gaze into the abyss for hours at a time; similarly, bizarre aesthetics and unconventional narratives are no longer received with frustration, but with the excitement of a new, fresh taste for my cinematic palate. Not to say I love everything I encounter, but these days, I’m far more likely to remember and appreciate that which is foreign to my sensibilities as opposed to any highly processed computer-generated, star-powered multiplex fare.
