Growing up horror was always my first love of the film genres. I relished that feeling of fear knowing that outside the doors of the cinema, away from the screen there was the comfort and safety of the real world. My ninth birthday, or maybe my tenth involved a marathon of the Nightmare on Elm Street series, culminating in the newly released Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare 3D. My pre-pubescent cohorts and I gathered around our 14 inch, flimsy cardboard glasses in hand and let the fear embrace us. And so it went for many years. But recently I have become jaded by the trawl of Craven wanna-bes and grotesque packages that the studios have latched onto as the definition of current horror. I want the fright, I want to sit glued to my seat both craving as much as dreading the next scare and tensing until my muscles hurt. … There’s more →