As a child of the eighties, I viewed plenty of farcical movie fare; Teen Wolf, My Best Friend is a Vampire, and Monster Squad each served with enough cheese to qualify for dinner and a movie. Forerunners to the comedy/horror era of Leslie Neilson in Love Bites and and Eddie Murphy as a Vampire in Brooklyn eradicated by the advent of Jason Vorhees, Freddy Krueger, and Michael Myers and their gory trail of ephemera. While the players have changed and new installments are entering a multiplex, or hostel, near you, the level of schlock has reached torture porn. No longer a vehicle for social satire, the attraction is what the viewer saw. I could just SCREAM.
Who can forget Barbara from Night of the Living Dead? Or that virginity is a sacred security blanket. But I digress...I was hoping to bore everone by enough diatribe that my confession of pretending to be a werewolf (for nearly all of 5th grade) would be overlooked (I was 10). The allegory of teen angst and awkwardness was established in 1957.< when darwinism itself was so scary you had to use a metaphor.
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