News: The H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society's award-winning 1920s-style silent film The Call of Cthulhu is now available on DVD.
Written in 1926, just before the advent of "talking" pictures, The Call of Cthulhu is one of the most famous and influential tales of H.P. Lovecraft, the father of gothic horror. Now the story is brought richly to life in the style of a classic 1920s silent movie, with a haunting original symphonic score. Using the "Mythoscope" process - a mix of modern and vintage techniques - the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society has worked to create the most authentic and faithful screen adaptation of a Lovecraft story yet attempted.
From the cultists of the Louisana bayous to the man-eating non-euclidean geometry of R'lyeh, the HPLHS brings Cthulhu to the screen as it was meant to be seen. Eighteen months of production and a cast of more than 50 actors went into making this film a period spectacle that must seen to be believed.
The DVD includes The Call of Cthulhu (47 minutes, black and white), the high-fidelity and "Mythophonic" soundtracks, a 25 minute "making-of" documentary featurette, two slide shows, deleted footage, a prop PDF of the Sydney Bulletin and more.
Today's Halloween-related quote comes from The Willows by Algernon Blackwood. In 1936, H.P. Lovecraft wrote to Vincent Starrett the following: "I am dogmatic enough to call The Willows the finest weird story I have ever read." A year later, he told Fritz Leiber "It is my firm opinion that his longish short story The Willows is the greatest weird tale ever written." It's a perfect story for the season. The entire tale is available here.
From the story:
I saw that I could not get along much longer without the support of his mind, and for that, of course, plain talk was imperative. As long as possible, however, I postponed this little climax, and tried to ignore or laugh at the occasional sentences he flung into the emptiness.
Some of these sentences, moreover, were confoundedly disquieting to me, coming as they did to corroborate much that I felt myself; corroboration, too--which made it so much more convincing--from a totally different point of view. He composed such curious sentences, and hurled them at me in such an inconsequential sort of way, as though his main line of thought was secret to himself, and these fragments were mere bits he found it impossible to digest. He got rid of them by uttering them. Speech relieved him. It was like being sick.
"There are things about us, I'm sure, that make for disorder, disintegration, destruction, our destruction," he said once, while the fire blazed between us. "We've strayed out of a safe line somewhere."
from The Willows by Algernon Blackwood