Word: ghoul
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...suffer from a bad case of hiccups, head over to the Brattle this week. Yes, gentle folk, it's Horror Time at your local art theatre. Horrors of the Black Museum, the first of the spine-tinglers, will be followed Wednesday by Blood of the Vampire. For the weekend ghoul, there's Horror of Dracula...
...sometimes difficult to separate the poet from the poltergeist who tipped over the stuffed birds, broke the bric-a-brac and put the ladies into a flutter. It is the thesis of Veteran Biographer Frances Winwar (Coleridge, the Wordsworths, Byron, Shelley, Keats) that Poe's "ghoul-haunted" imagination has contemporary validity. For all its outmoded idiom (castles, princesses, etc.) Poe's death-obsessed verse speaks true today. In this admirable biography, Author Winwar lets a hundred well-informed witnesses speak for themselves and lets Poe rhyme where reason does not run. He wrote...
...begins the prologue to American International Pictures' The Screaming Skull-a sample of just the sort of thoughtful, steam-heated promotion that sucks the bloodthirsty into U.S. movie houses. Pushers of cinemonsters know that one ghoul is about as good as another, and so the proceeds of horror films must depend on eerie drumbeating...
Home-Town Boys. The Kutis Funeral Home first became a soccer patron 15 years ago when some boys asked it to sponsor their team. Fearing mayhem, Kutis and his father gloomily agreed, saw their stark pessimism confirmed when a boy broke his leg before even a ghoul was scored. They dropped the team, but five years ago Tom Kutis decided to try again. He built his championship team exclusively from home-town St. Louis boys, although at times he has hired a European coach. "We don't import players," says Kutis. "St. Louis boys fit in better with...
...Hunchback of Notre Dame, the organ-playing ghoul of The Phantom of the Opera, the sad clown in He Who Gets Slapped, Chaney proved the possibilities of escaping oneself. As an artist might rush to his easel to sketch the characters he had encountered in a day, Chaney would go home to his makeup kit and superimpose upon his own flesh the faces he had studied in police courts, water front dives and cafés. With putty and plaster, collodion-created scars, false teeth, wigs, facial clamps, cotton stuffing and rubber dilaters, Actor Chaney would be somebody else...