At 6:30pm, I found myself trekking through the pleasantly desolate industrial fringes of SOHO in search of Don Hill’s. The graffiti scribbled, black brick exterior of the bar combined with the dark, skull embossed fashion of a few nicotine huffing early arrivals to inspire visions of death metal to dance in my head. But the interior of the bar was more campy than tough or spooky, with “sailor tattoo” themed wallpaper and glowing gargoyle masks on the wall creating an ambience somewhere between tikki lounge and goth club.
The festival’s director, Michael Hein, greeted me at the door. Mr. Hein’s passion for horror film and this festival exudes infectiously, though to most of his audience he is just preaching to the converted. It’s a niche market, and everyone involved—from the organizers to the filmmakers to the viewers--seems to possess a passion for the horror genre and perhaps for independent film (judging by the line-up, most of the movies were independently produced). This creates an air of intimacy and camaraderie that is absent at most other festivals. Mr. Hein knows that this unity is the key to the success of the festival, and does not address the crowd without thanking all parties involved for their continued support. From the moment I met him, he treated me like an old friend, and made a point to later find me at the bar to inform me the press table was up and running.
The drinks at Don Hill’s were expensive, at $5.00 per virgin ginger ale, but the quality of the event more than made up for it. Once everyone was properly lit and rowdy, the Mcs, festival director Michael Hein and the program director Anthony Pepe, hit the stage to toss witticisms and “schwag” (or T-shirts and DVDs) out to the crowd. The place was packed, and the crowd was explosive by the time that the promotional trailer for the festival hit the screen. A brilliant composite of the most precious moments of all the greatest horror flicks, the audience cheered and cat called as the violence raged and gore splattered. The ending with Lucio Fulci’s zombie march across the Manhattan Bridge into NYC left the crowd howling. If I can get a link, I will post it later on.