This evening, I was to go with The Hideout: Horror Sci-Fi Club London to a talk at the Horse Hospital, entitled Raising Hell, about horror and the British film industry in the 1980s. Bought a ticket - and then the organiser said he couldn't make it. I already had a ticket, of course - so I went anyway. And the annoying thing is, he deleted the event completely! It might have been nice to meet others who could still make it, you know..! This isn't the first time he's done this, apparently. Well, at least it's really close to me.
Right around the corner from GBK, actually - so I ate there. As I was queueing to ask for a table, I noticed they have a new menu item - "The Duke" is modelled on a beef Wellington, with mushrooms and such - I might have had that, but I didn't have a chance to have a proper read before I was at the till. And, recognising me as someone who always orders the same thing, he asked whether I wanted to put in my order straight away. So I did, and had the usual - but one day, I might have The Duke..
Just as well I ordered immediately, I was only just finished in time to pop across the road for the advertised time of 7pm. Of course, it didn't start then - in fact, I joined quite a long queue. Which eventually started moving - the hapless guy at the door had some trouble finding a couple of people, I think. Checked my name off the list - I was second from the top, if that means anything. Then it was down the horse ramp and through the heavy curtain, to a small room with chairs and a screen, which I've only been in once before. I took a seat at the end of the front row - it was mostly, but not completely, full.
Cool graphic, huh? The speaker was a Geordie, and in the first half concerned himself with the impression of most people that British horror is synonymous with Hammer. Mind you, his definition of a British film includes many that most would not agree with him on - his criterion is that it should have some British funding, so that money flows back to Britain. Well, you need a cut-off somewhere.
At the interval, I went in search of the bar - I'd forgotten, but it's behind the screen. Where I asked for white wine, and was told I could have a sauvignon blanc.. or a sauvignon blanc. So I had a sauvignon blanc. And after the break, the speaker used one particular film to illustrate many of his points - Don't Open Till Christmas is a slasher, set in London, where the killer has a particular grudge against anyone dressed as Santa Claus.
I'm not so deeply invested in the subject matter as to have found it all enthralling - mainly, I enjoyed the extracts from, and trailers for, what we used to know as "video nasties" back in the 80s. But it was enjoyable enough, and lovely to be talking about horror again - it's just ironic that I was supposed to be with the same group on the last occasion I was here, and saw none of them either time! Hey-ho, there must be a curse on the place - anyway, it was over in time for me to shop on the way home.
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