Freaktoberfest

For most of us, Halloween means shedding the bubblegum sensibilities of summer and embracing the darkness that comes with the season of creeping death. But for the Dairy Arts Center’s resident “queen of the weird” Shay Wescott, it’s just another month of programming the freakiest films she can find. 

“Horror movies are so foundational to Friday Night Weird,” she says of the nonprofit’s weekly underground cinema showcase. “It’s not something where all year I’m waiting, like, ‘What are we going to do in October?’ It kind of happens organically.”

You’ll find no shortage of schlocky Halloween fare at the multiplex this season, but the unsettling selections of this long-running homespun showcase at the Boedecker Theater offer a lot more than jump scares and so-called scream queens.   

“I’m not knocking mainstream horror movies, but I’m not necessarily going to go out of my way to a niche art house movie theater for that kind of thing,” Wescott says. “We’re looking to find the films that are maybe less accessible that we want to spotlight and uplift. Those don't always fall into the perfect ‘Halloween’ category.”

Azrael
Friday, Oct. 4
E.L. Katz, 2024, Estonia & USA, 1:25, R

Wescott has a tough time with the term “scream queen.” She sees a dark undercurrent coursing beneath the moniker adopted by film critics (mostly men) to describe the ’80s ladies anchoring the era’s stomach-turning slasher flicks. 

“The screams generally came with a lot of sexual violence — a lot of exploitation,” she explains. “I’ve met so many of these actresses, and they are incredible people who have had amazing careers. I don't want to diminish any of that, but it was more about what was out there in terms of roles for women.”

That’s why Wescott is particularly stoked about Azrael, starring Australian horror standout Samara Weaving. The action-packed film by director E.L. Katz follows a group of religious zealots left behind after the rapture as they hunt a young woman who has escaped bondage in a silent world where no one speaks. 

“It’s really focused on empowering her and making her look like a badass,” she says. “It’s also a setup in which she cannot scream. You will not hear screaming of any sort.”

The Birthday
Friday, Oct. 11
Eugenio Mira, 2004, Spain, 1:40, NR

Corey Feldman has had a rough go since his star-making run as a ’80s teen heartthrob. The actor’s public image gelled near the turn of the century as a washed-up bad boy punchline, but spend a few minutes on his Wikipedia page and you’ll see a familiar constellation of abuses suffered by too many child performers. 

So there’s a certain triumph in his starring role in The Birthday, a cult favorite in which a hapless boyfriend uncovers an “ancient evil” that might just bring on the end of the world. Following decades of underground buzz, the film is finally getting a proper theatrical release after Jordan Peele programmed it at the Film Society of Lincoln Center last year for its second-ever U.S. screening.

“I think the world owes [Feldman] a big apology and an endless well of empathy,” Wescott says. “I'm really excited about the fact that this is in no way making fun of him. Everything surrounding this comes from a earnest place of love and appreciation in a way that cult films are not usually handled — so it feels special.”

Ganja & Hess
Friday, Oct. 18
Bill Gunn, 1973, USA, 1:52, R

Immortality is a blessing and a curse. Just ask anthropologist Hess Green (Duane Jones) who develops a taste for blood after being shanked by a ceremonial dagger. This is the turn of events launching the unholy marriage of Blaxploitation and horror that is Bill Gunn’s paradigm-shifting indie vampire film, Ganja & Hess. 

“It elevated Gunn to the status of ‘the Black Stanley Kubrick’ in some circles, but was otherwise completely ignored in the U.S. due to racism and the incredibly vanilla taste of most American filmgoers,” Wescott says. 

Purchased, stripped for parts and re-cut by a low-budget grindhouse distributor after its release, Ganja & Hess — later adapted by Spike Lee as Da Sweet Blood of Jesus in 2014 — spent years in the choppy waters of critical opinion before cementing its status as a cult-horror mainstay and cornerstone of Black cinema.

“There are times when the white critic must sit down and listen,” Gunn wrote in a 1973 open letter to the New York Times following the film’s frigid reception. “If he cannot listen and learn, then he must not concern himself with Black creativity.”

The Substance
Friday, Oct. 25
Coralie Fargeat, 2024, USA, 2:20, R

Aging has never been scarier than it is in this fussed-over film by French director and screenwriter Coralie Fargeat. The Substance follows “past her prime” A-list actress (Demi Moore) who turns to a miracle youth drug after being fired by a repugnant studio executive (Dennis Quaid). The catch? She must spend equal time in her own body and that of her 20-something counterpart (Margaret Qualley).

That might not sound like much of a problem, but if you haven’t already gleaned from the discourse surrounding this body-horror conversation piece, Wescott says viewers will get more than they bargained for as Fargeat’s unforgettable film unfolds. 

“The Substance is already one of the most talked-about films of the year, depicting one of our favorite pastimes: picking apart the bodies of aging women who dare to put themselves on film, quite literally,” she says. “Just know going in that it is absolutely every bit as grotesque as anyone will tell you. What I didn’t expect is that it would be so magical — and so funny.”