I don’t need a horror channel to remind me I’m a horror fan. I don’t need a channel to play the same old bullshit movies I have in my collection, and then turn into a quasi-horror channel months later playing music videos, and wrestling programs. A channel doesn’t make me an automatic solid horror fan.
I’ve been one since I was four.

But I wanted a great horror show god damn it. The show I wanted to be great, ended up being one giant dry hump sans the stained pants, while the show I expected to flop, ended up being damn good. I speak of “Dexter” in that last comparison.
“Masters of Horror” is a lot like that really hot chick you met in high school. She was good looking without or without makeup, presented many possibilities, you imagined every such situation, and position, and when you and she were finally alone, she really wasn’t much to talk about. And then you’re left with nothing but disappointment.






“Chillerama” feels like yet another production from the indie underground circuit that looks like it was so much fun to make. Everyone had a lot of laughs, the scripts were probably riots, and the directors joint efforts probably elicited a lot of pats on the backs. But when you see “Chillerama” you begin to realize that it was much more fun to make than it is to watch. I like Adam Green, I enjoy throwbacks to drive-in cinema, and I adore anthologies, but “Chillerama” is a swing and total miss for the directors whose entire project is summed up by bad sex jokes, flat dialogue, and poor effects.