6 min read

October 30 - I cut my teeth on weaker men

October 30 - I cut my teeth on weaker men
Key art for Phantom of the Parad

I'll be honest, I've never been a Halloween guy. Nothing against it, at least not conceptually. As a kid I scared really easily, and by the time I was a preteen my family had moved away from celebrating the holiday entirely (shoutouts post-Evangelical hang ups). It wasn't until I was in graduate school that I was aware of the spooky season being a thing that grown-ups felt passionately about, and by that time I'd developed a whole range of social anxieties that made the idea of developing a costume to wear in a crowd of people I only barely know seem like the spookiest part of the whole holiday.

I'm trying to come around. I've been catching up on all the scary movies I missed as a kid - this week we checked out Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time. I have two pumpkins on the front porch, though they sit uncarved. Baby steps. In the spirit of discovering all that there is to love about October 31st, I'm passing along some recommendations this week that split time between scaring up a mood and settling in with friends for a good time.

I hope they'll be enough to forgive my flagging Halloween spirit.


Watch: Phantom of the Paradise, d. Brian de Palma

The Phantom himself.

cw: implied sexual assault

Phantom of the Paradise the kind of bonkers camp extravaganza that invites off-the-wall crossover style pitch. Like, take a prestige New Hollywood director, give him zero budget, and tell him to make an S&M suffused live action muppet movie, but without the puppets. Or, this movie is what would happen if you threw Rocky Horror Picture Show, Phantom of the Opera, and The Toxic Avenger in a blender. Or, this movie is the answer to the question, “what if Faust, but cynical and kinky?” Also, there’s a queer rockstar named Beef. Beef.

Basically, Phantom of the Paradise is a batshit midnight movie directed by Brian de Palma, a director whose career could best be described as a series of attempts to elevate the art in sleaze. If your Halloween movie tastes run towards high camp and rock operas, then might I suggest you track this buried gem down post-haste and watch it with some friends who seem like they might be game for this hypnotic, bombastic ride.

Read: Session Cocktails: Low-Alcohol Drinks for Any Occasion by Drew Lazor and the Editors of PUNCH

Session Cocktails
A cocktail book introducing a new canon of low-proof drinks that highlight fresh flavors and facilitate conviviality, featuring more t...

Tomorrow is Halloween, which puts us squarely in the holiday quarter of the year. And while the return to normalcy we all dreamt about back in the spring hasn’t quite arrived, I expect that for a lot of us this new season heralds more than a few dinner parties, get togethers, and tailgates over the next several weeks. If, like me, you’re a fan of a a good cocktail at these functions but wish you and your guests could enjoy a few more of them before things get sloppy, then I recommend adding this book to your home bar collection.

The premise is simple: offer a collection of creative, classy cocktails that clock in at a low enough abv they can stretch out all afternoon and evening, right into your nightcap. It’s a welcome change in emphasis from a lot of millennial drinking culture, whose affection for brown liquor and double IPAs sometimes equates the delicious with the drunk. As a bonus, these recipes also highlight the rich palette of flavors that come from amaros, fortified wines, and bitters that are all too often shoved to the sidelines in favor of  the bolder taste that comes with higher proof spirits. And while it’s true that for many hobby mixologists this change in emphasis might require a total home bar makeover, I’d be surprised if looking through this book you don’t find a couple recipes that make you wonder if taking the plunge isn’t the right call. Keep it in mind as you plan for the holidays.

Play: Wingspan d. Elizabeth Hargrave

Wingspan
Attract a beautiful and diverse collection of birds to your wildlife reserve.

So-called “hobby board games,” i.e., the cardboard playthings that have become so popular among the nerdy-minded over the past two decades, are a double edged sword. On the one hand, their rise has rejuvenated a market saturated by century-old designs, giving a whole generation of people new ways to connect with family and friends. On the other hand, they can be intimidating mess of confusing rules, and communal gatekeeping, a phenomenon which has led to the rise of so called “gateway games” that introduce newcomers to the world of baord games beyond Battleship and Risk, but keep things approachable enough for the decidedly more washed masses. These gateway games usually accomplish that approachability in one of a few ways: straightforward, easy to grok rules; familiar, broadly appealing themes; and colorful, beautifully illustrated productions.

And while the rule set for Wingspan is a bit more complicated than some other so-called gateways, it’s certainly a beautiful looking game about an approachable topic, and I think for a lot of folks that’s more than enough reason to get over the shallow hump of the initial teach. There’s nothing revolutionary here - it’s a game built on tried and true ideas where you use your limited actions to combo card abilities into the sweet ambrosia of victory points, but it’s the way the whole experience hangs together that makes it feel special. The feel of the little eggs, the gorgeous Audobon-like illustrations, and the thoughtfully crafted materials make for a nearly meditative tabletop experience. There’s tension and difficult decisions, sure, but every time I’ve introduced someone to Wingspan, they walk away saying some version for “well that was nice”. I dare you to find such a gracious review coming out of your next family game of Catan.

CHVRCHES: Screen Violence

"Good girls justify but I don't"

Looking for a synthy, vibey soundtrack for your Halloween celebrations this year? Make sure you check out the new record from synth pop vets, CHVRCHES. Since their 2013 debut record, The Bones of What You Believe, CHVRCHES has been honing an intensely catchy brand of 80s inflected pop music, steadily laying down the blueprint for what has become an extremely dominant sub genre in the pop music space. With Screen Violence, frontwoman Lauren Mayberry turns to the 80s again, but this time for its bloody legacy of slasher flicks and body horror. The result is an album that sounds like the end credits to The Nightmare on Elm Street if it had been a Dario Argento joint.

Atmosphere is the name of the game here. The synth arrangements CHVRCHES have landed on here are lush, slick, and fuzzy, and the mixing plays with Mayberry’s soaring vocal performance, sometimes spotlighting her like a figure beneath a streetlight on a rain-soaked night, and other times letting her voice mingle with the instrumentals, just another layer in the electronic shuffle. And yet even at its most haunting, Screen Violence remains one of the catchiest albums of the year. Imagine playing a video game adaptation of John Carpenter’s The Thing, but the whole thing is scored by Carly Rae Jepsen - that’s where this record sits. It’s a welcome addition to the CHVRCHES catalog, pushing their tried and true formula into new conceptual territory dealing with misogyny, trauma, and violence. Don’t miss it.


That's it for this weekend. Go share some candy, give someone a jump scare, and think about who you'll haunt when you're gone.

See you here next week.

Jordan Cassidy