Before I took this class, my definition of a cult horror film was pretty narrow. In my eyes, cult horror movies had always one of two elements: they were either so bad that they are good, or they were, in essence, gore porn. This idea, however, is taken further in Welch Everman’s essay, “What is a cult horror film?” Everman writes,

“The phrase cult horror film has come to mean “bad horror film,” and that’s a bit unfair—but only a bit. The truth is that, yes, most movies that are called cult horror films are bad, an. That’s certainly true for most of the movies discussed in this book. They have minimal budget, they are poorly written and directed, the production values are near zero, and the acting is appalling.”

Everman goes on to put “bad horror films” in three categories:

1. They’re so bad they’re good—or at least they’re funny. Think of Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988) or Dracula’s Dog (1978).

2. They’re so bad they’re just bad. Think of Hillbillys in a Haunted House (1967) or Tentacles (1977).

3. They’re really good, low budget and all. Think of The Asphyx (1972) or The Mind Snatchers (1972).

All-in-all, cult movies aren’t bad, and when they are, they’re still enjoyable—with a few exceptions.

Our screening this week, Carnival of Souls (1962), was a beautiful example of a cult horror film that falls into the third category: it’s really good, low budget and all. Directed by Herk Harvey, the film’s budget was only $30,000, which is astounding to me, considering the bridge scene. After a bit of research, however, I found that the damage to the bridge in the opening scene of the film only cost $38. The town of Lecompton, Kansas, (where the scene was shot) only required the railing of the bridge be replaced to grant permission to film there. The film’s original release in 1962 was a box office failure, but late-night television airings helped Carnival of Souls to gain a cult following and paved the way for the purgatorial horror subgenre. The otherworldly, dream-like atmosphere created by the film went on to be incredibly inspirational to filmmakers such as David Lynch.  

Harvey’s inspiration for the film came when he drove past Saltair amusement park on the shore of the Great Salt Lake. Remembering the first time he saw the old amusement pavilion, Harvey said, “It was sunset, and I was driving to Kansas from California when I first saw Saltair. It’s an amusement park located at the end of a half-mile causeway out into the Great Salt Lake. The lake had receded and the pavilion with its Moorish towers stood silhouetted against the red sky. I felt I had been transported into a different time and dimension. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I stopped the car and walked out to the pavilion. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. The stark white of the salt beach and the strange dark quiet of the deserted buildings made it the spookiest location I had ever seen.”

Despite being a slow film, Carnival of Souls was a feast for the eyes, and the leisurely pace of it just added to the dream-like atmosphere of the film. Every single shot was wonderfully composed, and the mise-en-scene was a thing of beauty. The abandoned pavilion was just as creepy as it was dreamy, much like the score. Carnival of Souls has an undeniable Twilight Zone feel to it, which makes total sense because the story was inspired by the Twilight Zone episode The Hitch-Hiker (1960). I can confidently say that our screening of Carnival of Souls transported me to another dimension, and that this film will stick with me for a very long time.