Sometimes the disconnect between the comparatively cool Tim Burton and the repugnant Rob Zombie is explained by the progression of their careers. Rob Zombie was a stranger and oddity in the Easy Rider days; when he made House of 1,000 Corpses, he was writing an anti-society satire serialized in some smart magazines with a cult following; when he made House of 1000 Corpses, he was this facile, loony and scary-funny auteur who had become confident and commercial. The lesson or signal from Easy Rider, which made sense in those days, is that Tim Burton had some ketchup on the macaroni of his sensibility; he needed to apply the sauce and retool himself to make a conventional film. Is it a coincidence that his next film was a lavish, theatrical, ultra-dark but stylish piece like Sleepy Hollow? Tim Burton has a unique sensibility, I think. It's a cheerful cynicism, a slight magnificence, a sense of humor that's grew up and out of the darkness of his adolescence. He's never stopped making movies that are both dark and cheerful, in the way that Jesse Owens and David Crosby are both jolly and bad-tempered. I wonder what will happen to Tim Burton when the fevers of inspiration and re-infusion run dry. Will he go back to being a man who makes Westerns and comedies in the mold of Todd Holland, for instance? Who wouldn''t want to watch that, right? Besides, I'm sure everybody has Tim Burton on speed-dial.
In the world of exploitation horror, it's hard to remember a time when the elder statesman of a certain number of 80s horror classics--"Hey, do you want to see a fresh batch of trash escapism from 1977? I've got 'em right here! These are the movies that broke my heart, because of course they were a total travesty, but this is all the way back, before 1988, before the era of FX and special effects: the '76-'79 era, the purest embodiment of exploitation horror exploitation! Watch as some kids get killed by other kids. What could possibly go wrong?' " That kind of thing. d2c66b5586