My next project aims at pursuing theoretical and thematic features of Terror in the horror films of Zé do Caixão (Coffin Joe). The idea is to focus on the subversive connotations, rather than on its exploitation elements, highlighting the cultural significance of these films both in their time of production and at present, when they unfold as ‘cult’ items for niche consumption.
Although the boundaries are not always clear, Terror is understood here as a broader category which encompasses, among others forms, Horror, Murder-Mystery, Thriller and Gothic-Supernatural narratives. [1] Critics have plausibly established the terms Terror and Horror to distinguish between two distinct types of Gothic fiction, with Ann Radcliffe and Mathew Lewis being respectively the prime examples of each. The conventions (images, symbols, plots, discourse, etc.) set by the former Gothic narratives still linger strongly in contemporary books and movies, those in which some aspect of fear is celebrated. According to Radcliffe herself, [2] Terror is characterised by ‘obscurity’ or indeterminacy in its treatment of potentially horrible events – it is this potentiality which leads to the effect of Sublime. In contrast, Horror ‘freezes and nearly annihilates them’ with its unambiguous, explicitly blunt displays of atrocity. One might think that what Horror does is to materialise the worst that Terror could make one imagine. If that is the case, despite the exchange of the mind's eye for the actual sight of the dreaded (perhaps a modern audience would feel disappointed in the absence of it), Horror should not be seen as an inferior category, but rather as specialisation of Terror. The underpinning concept here is to see Terror as wide-ranging model which can open the mind to possibilities that could never be physically actualised.
From this angle, Terror emerges as a response to disquietude, in other words, feeling “terrified” is a reaction that takes place when we are pushed beyond familiar limits. It is noteworthy how this uneasiness frequently stems from cultural matters and how it unfolds questions related to political and national identity. [3] Although Terror is a trans-cultural and trans-historical phenomenon, its significance can only be recognised in a defined space and time. That is to say, the meanings and implications of these conventions have to be culturally and historically observed.
If not the first true horror movies made in Brazil
Filmed in black and white, the desolate and impoverished village is photographed in a stylish manner, resembling, to a certain extent, the images of primitive cinema but, in fact, it was a way of concealing the limited budget. This crudeness has rendered Marins’ filmmaking an analogy with the works of Edward D. Wood Jr. (1924-1978), who has recurrently been called the worst director that has ever existed. Wood believed having an aptitude for filmmaking and he attempted his talent chiefly at Terror and Sci-Fi movies, working with hardly any budget and with collaborators who had very little charisma. His films are frequently considered “trash” or “naïf”, but he became more famous and cherished after his death. This sudden conversion into an icon is greatly due, not only by his work, but by the film Ed Wood (1994), in which the he was treated with respect and deference by Tim Burton. But can the films of Marins be compared to the works of Ed Wood? In part, perhaps. If the production’s low expenditure in Coffin Joe’s films suggest a “trashy” aesthetics, the quality of his nightmares offer more than enough material for constructing arguments in defence of a non-trashy art, but rather a vigorous, intuitive production stemming from the margins of the alleged official cinema.
Despite its technically poor production, some of the nocturnal graveyard sequences in this film seem to dialogue with the feats accomplished by Mario Bava in Black Sunday (1960). It also brings about scenes apparently influenced by Surrealism, as in the films of Buñuel, an atmosphere similar to that present in Terence Fisher's earlier Hammer films, not to mention the classic Universal horrors which crop up in numerous little “homages”. The comparisons here are not meant to exalt Marins’ films in the light of renowned productions, as he is original in his own rights. The point here is to show them as part of a world wide film production, of Terror making in particular, which was quite prolific in the 60s and 70s.
Against the odds (the country’s Catholic audience, unfamiliar with horror movies), At Midnight I’ll take your Soul becomes a small hit and its success encourages Marins to attempt newer productions. The initial black and white template gives way to further experiments and an unexpected, full-blown Technicolor scene of a frozen Hell can be seen in Esta Noite Encarnarei no teu Cadáver (This Night I’ll posses your corpse, 1967). The people trapped there are being tortured by means of branding and whipping, some are being gored with forks while chained to each other, while other are physically imprisoned by being plastered to the wall, etc. This multi-coloured sequence concerns a nightmare Coffin Joe has (his real life is portrayed in black and white), conveying in images an aesthetic of excess which complements textual aspects. The discussion about the existence of god is certainly an axis which orients the film.
There is a fleeting philosophical discussion in At Midnight I will Take your Soul, implying a conception of god as Nature, in which blood and genes are the only hope of immortality (there are stated Sadean references in his theory), or god as Supernatural force, whose transcendent power is manifested in the immorality of the spirit. In this film, Coffin Joe’s biological or materialistic belief is subdued after his Dantesque vision of agonising souls in Hell and, in death, he fearfully conforms to the existence of an after-life. In posterior films the character undergoes meaningful changes, concerning its power and influence, becoming more of a demigod, a dweller of the shadows and nightmares. Possessor of ghostly powers, Coffin Joe professes from the Limbo his evil and demoniac philosophy. However primary in technique Marins’ films might be, (sometimes naïvely, and even clumsily) due to its shocking scenes and excruciating themes, such as torture, mutilation and blunt violence, there is a dark side which emerges in these films suggesting a curious relationship with the brutal practices of the 64 dictatorship.
Although the finest of his production was made in the 60s and 70s under the state-controlled media of the military system, his fame subsisted the years of censorship and, in the 90s, stormed into the international market. Its up rise seems to have most noticeably begun with the release of a Coffin Joe Trilogy in the American market, turning his films into offbeat products. Since then the character has gained international projection as a horror film classic. This was followed by a high-tech six DVD box set updating Coffin Joe’s films to the digital era. The interest for the subject and character is booming as recently two journalists from São Paulo
[1] In the 70s Todorov established a structural division for what he called Fantastic Literature, proposing four categories according to the development and dénouement of the narratives, they are: L’étrange pur, le fantastique-étrange, fantastique-merveilleux and le merveilleux pur. This interesting analysis, however, fails to consider the cultural aspects of the narratives, reducing the question to a dichotomy between Realism v. Fantastic. See: Tzvetan Todorov. Introduction a la Littérature Fantastique. Paris
[2] See: Ann Radcliffe, “On the Supernatural in Poetry”. IN: The New Monthly Magazine 7, 1826 (pp. 145-52). This essay, published posthumously, is itself a revision of the ideas about the sensual effects which lead to the sublime feeling, as proposed by Edmund Burke in A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful (1757).
[3] I am using here Said’s definitions of culture: First, meaning all the practices “like the arts of description, communications, and representation, that have relative autonomy from the economic, social and political realms and that exist in aesthetic forms”. Second, meaning “culture is a concept that includes a refining and elevation element, each society’s reservoir of the best that has been known and thought …In time, culture comes to be associated often aggressively, with the nation or the state; this differentiate “us” from “them” …Culture in this sense is a source of identity…” IN: Edward Said. Culture and Imperialism. New York
[4] Using the image of a “double helix” or a DNA like spiral, the author argues there is a fine line between the horror and the comic and, still according to him, the excessively grotesque frequently provokes laughter. See: Jack Morgan, The Biology of Horror. Illinois Southern Illinois UP, 2002.
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