Minutes of Madness: By the Book

This month, we explore forbidden tomes as inspired by the works of Lovecraft and Robert Chambers (an author whose book The King in Yellow provided inspiration to Lovecraft). Lovecraft's work is filled with sinister volumes of forbidden lore, most notably the Necronomicon, and he and his contemporaries created several memorable titles. Robert Bloch created Mysteries of the Worm, for which Lovecraft coined the Latin title De Vermis Mysteriis. Other titles, such as Ramsey Campbell's The Revelations of Glakki and Clark Ashton Smith's Book of Eibon, serve similar narrative purposes and have all become a hallmark of the broader "mythos".

These fictional books continue to provide filmmakers with inspiration, and even their faintest echoes (such as seen in our first short) are recognizable for their origins.

Necronomicon (1984)

Dir. Chris Jones

Starring: Mark Newman (The Man), Iain Spence (Man in Graveyard), Carl Young (Corpse)

10m ✦ Color ✦ UK ✦ Vimeo

Among the earliest Lovecraftian short films, Necronomicon borrows little from Lovecraft beyond its title. Drawing clear inspiration from Evil Dead, another loose Lovecraft connection, the film represents Chris Jones' first directorial effort. Jones, who would later direct the award-winning Gone Fishing, delivers exactly what one might expect from an earnest first-time filmmaker. Shot on 8mm, it is impressive that the film still exists at all, as many such early efforts by others end up forever lost.

Of course, as a first effort, it also shows. Jones had no available method for synching the soundtrack to the film (it was originally played live when the film was screened). There is nothing in the way of dialogue. "Creaky acting, dodgy camera work, ridiculous plot" is a phrase used by the director himself for this film but, none the less, there is a charm to this vintage home-movie appearing effort.

The lead (credited merely as The Man), is home alone. Finding a dusty tome in the attic, he sits down to peruse through it. A note reminds him to bring in the laundry, and, going outside, he hears a noise that leads him to a small shed. Inside, he finds a dead body. With no fear, or sign of any other emotional reaction (remember, "creaky acting") he arms himself and goes outside where he sees a zombie rise from the ground–immediately dispatching it with a hatchet-blow to the head. More zombies rise, and it will all feel quite familiar to fans of Romero and Raimi.

Despite the director's self-deprecation about the film, there are some genuinely enjoyable moments. Some of the zombie make-up looks quite good (in the admittedly poor lighting), and a shot of a zombie's hand rising from the ground is quite striking. For what it is, Necronomicon is enjoyable as a curiosity, a zombie movie on the periphery of Lovecraftian cinema, arriving there only by accident.

The Book (2012)

Dir. Barrett Hunt

Starring: Christopher Waldon (Narrator), Barrett Hunt (Narration)

11m ✦ Black & White ✦ US ✦ Vimeo

As opposed to our first film this month, The Book attempts to directly adapt the Lovecraft story of the same name, in which a man stumbles across a worm-eaten tome of forbidden lore and slowly goes mad with the revelations which follow.

The film opens with a narration which takes a few small, but significant, liberties with the tale. Minor as these deviations might seem, they take away some of the punch of Lovecraft's prose. For example, "I remember how the old man leered and tittered," becomes the much more mundane "I remember how the man stared and laughed at me." Choices like this rob the bookseller of some of his repellant qualities, which are not made up for on the screen.

There is also an issue with the film's visual elements conflicting with the narration. Lovecraft's foreboding and shadowed bookshop filled with decrepit shelves becomes a near ruined house in the woods that bears no resemblance to what is being described. One can be forgiving of poor location choices when dealing with a budget, but when they are at odds with what the audience is hearing described, it can be quite jarring. Yet, there are moments where things match so perfectly that one might forgive all else. Indeed, as the story reaches its zenith and the narrator speaks of sighting a strange city, some of the visual effects used carry the weight of the words quite nicely.

Yes, as the film draws to a close, it feels less like an adaptation of the short story as it does a reflection of it. While this is understandable, as Lovecraft can be notoriously difficult to adapt, there is a sensation that we are not watching the narrated events unfold so much as we are seeing someone acting out events as they are narrated. That loss of immediacy undermines the effort and leaves it feeling tonally muddled.

Micronomicon (2013)

Dir. Carylitz Tamez

Animation: Nancy Hernandez, Carylitz Tamez,

2m ✦ Color ✦ MX ✦ Vimeo

This playful micro-short, animated film deals with a tiny demon escaping from the Micronomicon, and his exploration of the shelves around them. Using a blend of live action and animation, this lighthearted offering succeeds where longer and more expensive efforts have failed. It is genuinely cute and will elicit a chuckle or two–granted, there isn't time for much more than that.

Other than the title, the only other Lovecraftian reference is the appearance of the glyph from the Simon Necronomicon (see the first installment of Eldritch Echoes for a few thoughts on this book and its influence). The animation for the opening is superb and, considering that this is a student film, the entire project is well done. The character design for the demons is playful and in keeping with the tone of the film. With a jaunty, and sometimes perfectly discordant, soundtrack accompanying the action, this feels like a short well-suited to appear before the feature presentation.

The only real complaint one can have is its brevity. Of a short runtime of 2 minutes 11 seconds, 1 minute and 19 seconds of that are credits. With less than a full minute of demonic chicanery, one is left wanting more of the bug-eyed demon and its antics.

The King in Yellow (2022)

Dir. Matt Whitney

Starring: Abigail Mullins (Abby), Jordan Mullins (Jordan), Wesley Mullins (Ben), Craig Lemons (Antique Shop Owner/The King in Yellow)9m ✦ Color ✦ US ✦ Youtube

Within an antique store, a man (Jordan) discovers a strange play, The King in Yellow, and rapidly becomes obsessed with it. While technically born from Robert Chambers' work rather than Lovecraft's, the story's DNA traces from Ambrose Bierce's Hastur through Chambers and into Lovecraft's "The Whisperer in Darkness." The film's tone certainly echoes the old man from Providence while building something uniquely its own.

The opening credits roll as the camera slowly zooms in on the titular book displayed in the antique store. The underlying score and deliberate camera movement establish an appropriately ominous tone, though this effect is somewhat undermined by the shop owner's clunky dialogue and Craig Lemon's stilted delivery.

The story shifts to a farmstead, where small folk horror elements breathe fresh life into the king in yellow mythology. Our first glimpse of the titular being, followed by a rooster's crow and the figure's sudden disappearance, emphasizes both the rural setting and how naturally this incarnation of the king fits these surroundings.

Whitney's truly inspired choice to cast an actual family (Jordan, Abigail, Wesley, and Piper Mullins) brings a genuine authenticity to their interactions. This natural dynamic proves especially effective when Abby and the children return to find their darkened home empty, their concern feeling deeply held and real rather than merely performed.

Jordan's relationship with the supernatural remains deliberately ambiguous - we're never certain if he believes the king's appearances are real or imagined. His attempt to protect his family by locking the book in an outbuilding proves futile. The film builds to Abby's anguished cry of horror upon discovering Jordan in darkness, his final utterances serving as a chilling punctuation to this folk-horror tinged take on Chamber's mythology.

Within an antique store, a man (Jordan) discovers a strange play, The King in Yellow, and rapidly becomes obsessed with it. Upon purchasing it and bringing it home, he begins to have visions of the titular king as he realizes that he has come to the attention of a living god.

Technically, one might say that this is a Chambersonian film rather than a Lovecraftian one, as The King in Yellow is the creation of Robert Chambers, although it, in turn, has some roots in the work of Ambrose Bierce. Bierce wrote of Hastur, which was then borrowed by Chambers in The King in Yellow, which in turn inspired Lovecraft to mention Hastur in The Whisperer in Darkness. Since then, a number of projects have been inspired by these works by the three authors. One can certainly argue that the foundations of this film predate Lovecraft, but the overall tone of this film certainly echoes the old man from Providence.

The opening credits roll as the camera slowly zooms in on the titular book as it sits on display in an antique store. The underlying score, coupled with this slow zoom, set up an appropriately ominous feeling towards the book, and what is to come. The opening might have been stronger had it not been for the weak dialogue and abrupt behavior of the shop's owner. Craig Lemon's sole lines in the film are clunky and are unfortunately delivered in a similar manner.

Upon Jordan's return home to the farmstead, things take on decidedly folk horror vibes, breathing something new into this take on the king in yellow mythology. We get our first glimpse of the king, followed by the crowing of a rooster, and the sudden disappearance of the strange figure. It serves to emphasize both the rural nature of the setting and how well this incarnation of the king in yellow fits into these surroundings.

Whitney's truly inspired choice to cast an actual family (Jordan, Abigail, Wesley, and Piper Mullins) brings a genuine authenticity to their interactions. This natural dynamic proves especially effective when Abby and the children return to find their darkened home empty, their concern feeling deeply held and real rather than merely performed. Jordan's relationship with the supernatural remains deliberately ambiguous. A late-night encounter where he and his son, both wearing yellow (perhaps not coincidentally), meet on the stairs hints at the king's growing influence. When Jordan discovers his son's drawing of the entity the next morning, his attempt to protect his family by locking the book away in an outbuilding proves too little, too late. The film builds to Abby's anguished cry of horror upon discovering Jordan in darkness, suggesting that no physical distance from the cursed play can break its hold once the king in yellow has marked its readers.

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About the Author

Bob Brinkman (he/him) dwells in the forbidden realms of Indiana, where he and his wife share their domicile with a quartet of midnight-hued felines. A former contributor to Unfilmable.com and HorrorNews.net, he now chronicles cinematic nightmares both cosmic (through Apep Press) and conventional (via Macabre Movie Morgue). When not documenting the unspeakable horrors of weird cinema, he can be found crafting eldritch tomes of adventure for Goodman Games. As a scholar of Lovecraftian film, he delves deep into the shadowy archives where celluloid nightmares slumber, seeking to illuminate the darkened corners where cosmic horror meets the silver screen.