All language subtitles for The.101.Scariest.Horror.Movie.Moments.of.All.Time.S01E01.720p.AMZN.WEBRip.x264-GalaxyTV_track3_eng

I don't know which came first,

my fear of being in the shower

with my eyes closed

or me watching "Psycho."

I remember leaving the theater

and being scared to walk
from the theater to my car

because I was scared
of Ghostface

and of the world.

Stand clear!

It changed who I was.

Like, I felt my DNA
being unwound

and then rewound
into something different

at that exact moment.

There's something
about a jump scare...

And if it's well done,

it affects the entire room.

That was one
of the moments that--

honey, please!

I could not sit through--

I have goosebumps.

When we were filming it,

we had to imagine
what was going on.

So when I saw it in the theater,

I was like, my God.

It was fantastic.

I think all of us
who work in the industry

spend all of our time
revisiting these scenes

that have seared their way
into our imagination

the first time we ever saw them,

scenes that you see one time
and you'll never forget.

We love them.

We discuss them.
We dissect them.

We try to understand
what makes them work

mechanically and logistically.

But it's something intangible.

It's something emotional.

It's nothing you can
kind of cynically recreate.

The beginning of "It Follows"

is one of the best intros
to any film.

She comes tearing
out of her house

in one direction.

We witness just sheer terror

in that young woman.

Hey, are you okay?

Yeah.

Is clearly being pursued

by something that she senses

and seems like she can see
but we can't.

It's completely unknowable.

It's this completely unknown,

unknowable thing
that's coming after her.

From the very
beginning, I was like.

Total male gaze, you know?

Why is she running in heels?

On rewatching it,
I better understand

why she's running in heels,

because she's always running.

That's nothing new
about this running.

She's, like,
running all the time.

Sometimes you just have to run
with what you're wearing.

Then that
little moment on the beach

where we sort of imagine, like,

this is the girl
that we're gonna follow

for the rest of the film.

Dad? I'm sorry I can be
such a shit to you sometimes.

She's plaintively
talking to her father.

I don't know why I do that.

All these different things,

that she knows she's gonna die.

It's the tension of it.

The setup for it is
just, like, what is going on?

And you don't find out what
the thing is until much later.

And then cut
to just that insane image

of her clearly dead
on the beach.

You don't see
the gruesome murder,

but you see the effects of it.

And you see her
all contorted on the beach,

and it's like, fuck.

That's a great setup,
because now,

you know what this guy's
gonna do to you.

What these people
that are following you

are gonna do to you.

And then the story opens,

you know, where we
sort of are introduced

to the main character.

Then the story unfolds

in a pace
that we can understand.

There was just so much dread
in that film.

It was
a really interesting, smart,

like, new kind of genre piece

that I think
will always be on the list

of films that did something
different with the genre.

"The Orphanage"
is wildly elegant,

which is a great tradition
in ghost stories.

You know, it feels like
a very classical haunter.

It's so powerful,

and it's not
your typical horror movie.

I know a lot
of Americans watch it,

and they think it's terrifying.

But at the same time,
it's really beautiful.

And you're in the environment
where you're isolated.

You're in an old house.

There's very little
electricity. It's dark.

It really can't get better

than a sack on the head.

And a child-- a child ghost
with a sack on his head

is just-- kids are creepy.

Kids are naturally creepy,

so ghost kids kind of
take that to a new level.

And it has this scene

where Laura, the main character,

she's looking for her son.

She's convinced he's
in the orphanage somewhere,

and she knows there are
these sort of ghost spirits

of children in the orphanage.

And she thinks
they can help her.

So she plays this game,

and there's something
about a children's game

that makes it really scary.

Playing a children's game
with ghosts

is very scary.

The game is,
you say one, two, three,

knock on the wall while
you're looking at the wall,

and then you turn
to see if anybody's coming

because the first person
to get to you wins.

And she looks back,
and there's nothing.

And then she starts
to do it again,

and there's a noise behind her.

And she looks back,

and the door is opened.

And then she does it again...

Turns back,
and there's a ghost child.

There's a ghost child
behind her.

Normally, that scene,
she would throw a look,

and you would cut
to what she's looking,

and then go back to her face,

throw a look,
cut to what she's looking,

but Juan A. does
the right thing,

which is decide
to stay on one shot

and just, like, pan.

Because when that camera
pans in the theater,

there's no way to stop it.

It's gonna go
where it's gonna go,

and you know something
horrific is gonna show up,

and the kids are gonna be there,

and it's gonna be terrifying.

And eventually, she does it,
and then all of a sudden,

a hand grabs her from behind.

All done in one shot.

So brilliant, so scary,

and just a really great
horror movie scene.

It's incredible
when something so simple

can be so good.

What is he
really doing in Salem's Lot?

Writing a book, he says.

I'm writing about a house.

The Marsten House.

I think that an evil house
attracts evil men.

"Salem's Lot,"

I had my doubts about it
because it was television.

And very few horror movies
for television in the '70s

were very good

because they weren't really made

by people
who cared about the genre.

They weren't genre filmmakers.

In this case,

they brought in Tobe Hooper.

Tobe Hooper was coming
off "Texas Chainsaw Massacre"

and "Eaten Alive,"

which are gritty,
grindhousey-type movies.

And he ended up making
this really iconic,

incredible, haunting,

beautiful Stephen King
adaptation for "Salem's Lot."

For me, the most iconic
scene in that miniseries

was the scene of the boy

outside the window,

scratching at the glass,

trying to convince his friend
to open the window to him

and let him in.

The kid wakes up.

There's a fog behind the window.

He stands up.

We can't figure out what it is

at the beginning.

And the music
was almost like "Jaws."

It was a...
♪ Dun-dun

♪ Dun-dun dun-dun
dun-dun dun-dun ♪

That was really
getting me all worked up.

And then he comes forward,

and it's, like,
this kid in the window.

I mean, it's an iconic moment.

Open the window.

That kid's scratching
at the window.

"Let me in."

Let me in.

It's okay, Mark.
I'm your friend.

He commands it.

Don't let that kid in, man.

I mean, like, how did they
even allow that on television?

What was beautiful about it

and made it very otherworldly
and nightmarish,

is that Tobe shot it
in slow motion

and in reverse.

And when it played backwards,
he moving forwards,

but there's something
very foreign and bizarre

and mysterious
and scary about it.

Let me in.

But the worst thing of all
is the eyes, the lit eyes.

I still don't know
how they did it

because it was definitely
not the digital era.

I don't think they were
optical effects either.

I suspect that
they were contact lenses,

that somehow they refracted
the distant light.

And it's really terrifying.

No, Mark.

I just remember not wanting

to fall asleep near a window
for a while.

It's
a brilliantly conceived scene.

It was very simple to do,

but it took Tobe Hooper
to come up with it.

Go away.

The best screen version
of "Dracula"

is Hammer Film's 1958,
"The Horror of Dracula"

with Christopher Lee.

legendary.

The description
I read about him,

which was really perfect, was,

"He's a panther."

I mean, he is tall, dangerous...

Scary.

The very first time we see him,

he's in this wide shot
at the top of the stairs.

We can just see his silhouette,

which is very impressive.

He's wearing this cape,
and he's so tall.

And then he comes
down those stairs,

and every time he's shot,
it's kind of at a low angle,

so that already--
just the camera-- shows you

that there's something
a little bit disturbing

about him.
- Mr. Harker.

I'm glad
that you've arrived safely.

But he's so smooth
in the way that he talks,

and so polite, and so nice.

Count Dracula.

I am Dracula,
and I welcome you to my house.

He has that duality of
he is a very respectable man,

but he is a monster.

Please don't distress yourself.

Thank you.

Thank you.

And I always loved that sequence

where the female vampire

is trying to seduce
Jonathan Harker.

In your head, you're going,
okay, this is it.

He's gonna get bitten.

And then there's that hiss,

and you cut
to that magnificent close-up

of Christopher Lee
with the blood on his face

and the bloodshot
contact lenses.

The contrast of going

from the gentleman
that we met before--

it's so feral and so raw,

and there's nothing human
about him.

When he hisses and he lunges

and grabs the girl
and throws the girl away,

and then the girl looks like
this weird, feral cat,

where she's got
a little bit of blood on her

and she's ready to pounce.

And she keeps going at him.

And Dracula keeps
throwing her away.

And then when Harker
goes to protect her,

he starts to choke him.

It's such a terrifying scene,

but there's so much going on.

And he actually

weirdly saves
Jonathan Harker's life

by protecting him from her.

The kids were choking
on their popcorn

when we saw this 'cause they--

we just weren't used
to seeing this kind of thing.

Whenever anybody talked
about horror movies,

the "Horror of Dracula"
was always the top movie

for the next, I don't know,
decade, I would say.

There were sequels,
there were remakes.

There were
other Dracula movies made,

but the impact
that that one had,

partly because
of when it came out

and partly because of how old
everybody was when they saw it,

made it into sort of
an instant classic.

The success of those films

inspired filmmakers like Bava.

That inspired
the Italian filmmakers.

They wanted to emulate

the success
of Hammer Horror films,

so they started doing some
of their own horror films,

and that's how we got
some of Bava's best work.

"Black Sabbath"
was a multistory movie.

Ladies and gentlemen,
how do you do?

Karloff was the host,

and he had done a whole series
of introductions

for the Italian version.

But the one
that everybody remembers

is the drop of water.

In this tale by Chekhov,

"The Drop of Water,"

we prove that a ghost
doesn't have to be seen

to be believed.

It's visually one of the
most beautiful pieces of film

that I've seen.

The use of color in it
is just remarkable.

In "The Drop of Water,"

a nurse is called late night
because this woman has died,

and she kind of has go
kind of declare it dead

and dress the body
for the funeral.

And she gets there,

and she pulls back
these massive bed curtains...

And it is this, like,
hideous face of this old woman

just making this
absolutely grimacing face.

It's all teeth and big eyes.

Still to this day,

a couple friends of mine and I
talk about that.

Like, was that a person?
Was it makeup?

Was it a dummy head?

The eyes looked so real.

It scared the hell out of me.

There was just something
about cutting back to it...

And it was just looking.

We see this fly
buzzing around the room.

And I don't mean like a housefly

is buzzing around the room;
this thing is like

a horsefly
that keeps landing on her.

I mean, ever talks about
how scary the old woman is

in this sequence,
but seriously, that fly

was the creepiest part to me.

It was just gargantuanly huge.

"The Drop of Water," to me, is

the most special kind
of supernatural horror.

It really is about being trapped

and really the slow dread

of being confronted
by a living corpse...

Who wants what they want,
even from beyond the grave.

I love this sequence,
because usually,

when you're looking
at kind of horror,

and especially female actresses
during this time period,

they stay
very beautiful throughout.

"Drop of Water,"
actress has just none of that.

Her hair is messed up,
her makeup's all messed up.

She is just thrashed
by the end of this.

I recently showed it
to a niece of mine,

you know, who was 14 years old.

And I was thinking, you know,

is she gonna think
this is as creepy as I do?

And yeah,
it really did creep her out.

The eyes, just the staring eyes,

really bothered her.

So "Pulse," or "Kairo,"

is a film essentially
about the Internet

as this conduit for the dead

to move into our physical world.

If you think about
how many people have died

over all of human history,

and then all these spirits
have to go somewhere.

And at some point,
when it became too full,

they had to spill out
back into our world.

"Pulse"
takes all of these ghosts

that are running around
in Japan and puts them--

you might say, it turns them
into the ghosts in the machine.

Supernatural forces have
been trying to take us down

for God knows how long,
but they finally found

a way to do it, you know, just
with the click of a mouse.

The way in which these
ghosts make themselves known

is, as one character puts it,
trapping characters

in their own loneliness,
or their isolation.

Operating on multiple levels,

both the fear of ghosts
and the supernatural

but then fear
of the technology itself

and what it's doing to society.

When I think of iconic moments

and images from "Pulse,"

I think black marks on walls.

It's a character

who has been trapped
in their loneliness

and either disappears

or they will, you know,
actually commit suicide...

And this black mark will

sort of indicate
where they killed themselves

or where they ultimately
gave into their loneliness.

And I think
it could only be made

by Kiyoshi Kurosawa,

who is
the master of slow dread--

like, the utter king of it.

Probably the pinnacle of that

is that long hallway
with the ghost.

We see a woman ghost
just standing there,

not doing anything.

And then she comes
walking to us very slowly.

Then there's a ghost who moves

unlike any other ghost
you've ever seen.

There's this way
in which it's off-kilter

that adds to this atmosphere
of "this is not of this world."

And then she seems to fall,

and it was shot at high speed,

so that gives
that ethereal sense of movement

that is terrifying.

The simplicity of

this is a thing
that should not be here,

and it is coming for you,

and it is moving in a way
that you can't process

because you've never seen
anything like that before,

is really stunning.

This is a film that, like,

I can feel
in the pit of my stomach.

And for some reason,
it's just that absence

where somebody was there,
they're not there,

and then sometimes
they come back,

you know, as an image,
as a ghostly image,

and then it could leave again--

there's something about that

that maybe it speaks to, again,

this idea in Japanese horror

where this corporeal
and the spiritual,

that line gets blurred.

You can feel that emptiness

that is sort
of the metaphysical level

that Kiyoshi Kurosawa's
working on.

Is Tamara here?

No.

No, you've got the wrong house.

You sure?

I've seen so many horror movies,

I actually
don't get scared anymore,

but "The Strangers"
is extremely effective...

Possibly because
I'm not expecting

somebody in a doll face mask
to show up at my door.

The home invasion angle of that

has a very realistic edge to it,

and they were actually
based on real-life crimes.

That kind of just
affects you in a way

that, yes, you're home alone,

there could be somebody
in your house with you,

and you don't know where
they are or what they're doing.

They're just
everywhere in the house,

but you don't know
where they are.

And that's really freaky.

Liv Tyler's in the kitchen,

and then he wanders out
and just stares at her,

and, again, doesn't do anything.

It's that agony of,

well, he's not gonna do it now

and you're just
gonna have to wait,

knowing that it's gonna come.

The fact that
the person comes into frame

and then slowly goes back out--

if she saw that person
behind her in that moment,

that changes
the whole dynamic of the scene

and what we're actually
experiencing as an audience.

James?

As an audience member,

now you are a step ahead
of where our characters are

and what they're experiencing,
what they're living.

The tension is now
ratcheted up to a ten.

It just keeps you on edge

for the entire rest
of the movie.

Block the door.
Block the door!

And then you get
to maybe the scariest moment,

which isn't even
a moment of violence.

It's a piece of dialogue, right?

It's when she says...

Why are you doing this to us?

Because you were home.

It's the one answer
no one ever wants to hear,

is "because you were home."

That's, like,
the one part of the movie

where no matter what
has happened up until then,

you now have goosebumps

and you are terrified
to your core.

A lot of movies don't have

the wherewithal
to stick to that.

They want to find the "reason,"

the "backstory,"
or the "mythology."

And I think "The Strangers"
really sticking to the idea

that is just random
and cruel and violent

hammers home
what's so compelling

about home invasion, which
is that it could happen to you.

There's a marked difference

between the horror films
of the '40s

and the horror films
of the '30s:

it came out
of Universal Studios.

Out of that bunch,
there were some classics,

"The Wolf Man" being the one

that immediately leaps to mind.

"The Wolf Man"
is one of those situations

where everything just happened
to work out perfectly.

Well, there's
something very tragic

about that man.

Why does everyone insist
that I'm confused?

"The Wolf Man" was

one of the first horror films
that I ever saw.

"The Wolf Man" grabbed me

and dragged me

into the love affair

that has continued
to this day with horror.

Lon Chaney Jr. was someone

that I just felt an instant
empathy towards as a kid,

and I still do as an adult.

The performance that he gives
as Larry Talbot

is just so vulnerable
and sad and beautiful.

It's interesting when you look

at the transformation
sequence again

from the first "Wolf Man,"
is it happens on the feet.

You're aware
of what's about to happen,

and then it tilts down,
and then the feet change.

You never see him transform
in the first movie.

You see him transform back
at the end.

I always was--
and still to this day--

fascinated with that makeup

because the makeup changes
from film to film.

The makeup is just insane.

That is the iconic moment to me,

watching Lon Chaney Jr.

transform into the wolf
the first time

and seeing his face
go through that.

The way Talbot turns
into the wolf man,

that shit-- I mean, that--

it's still one of
my favorite cinematic moments,

just watching
those layers come on.

The idea that Jack Pierce

had to go into the stage

and all his stuff was probably
right there off-camera,

and here's the camera,
and he would go in,

work a little bit, step away.

It would take six hours
or seven hours

to do that transformation.

There have been so many
legendary makeup artists

in the history of cinema
and horror cinema,

but you think about that film

and the way that
it kind of paved a path

for generations to come.

American horror films
in the '30s and '40s,

people immediately go
to Universal Studios.

But there was a whole other
horror factory at that time,

in Hollywood, at RKO studios,

under the supervision
of Val Lewton.

He had a series of studio
executives that hated him

because he refused
to do what they wanted.

They gave him "Cat People,"

and they wanted "The Wolf Man"
with a cat,

which was a terrible idea.

You wake up and go, "My God,
what happened to the yarn?"

But he would,
almost to spite them,

create these really
brilliant, intelligent,

intellectual,
psychological dramas.

The idea of "Cat People" is that

when the heroine is aroused,
she turns into an animal.

That was
a moderately risky premise

for a movie in 1942.

And the ads for "Cat People"
are so lurid.

I mean, they've got these
pictures of Simone Simon

with, like,
horrible hands and claws

and drippy stuff coming out
on all the artwork,

none of which is in the movie.

There's a scene in "Cat People"

where the second lead actress,

who is competing
with Simone Simon's husband

for affection

but is very much
on the up and up

and is obviously supposed
to be someone we like,

goes for a swim in
what looks like a YMCA pool.

She hears growling.

She sees something
in the shadows

coming down the stairs,

and that's the only way
in and out of that pool area.

So the only thing
she can think of doing

is jumping
in the middle of the pool,

which puts her
in a vulnerable position

because what if
that creature can swim,

you know, and it jumps in there
and claws your face off?

And there's also a brief glimpse

of what could be a panther.

You're never quite sure
exactly what it is

that you see.

What the audience can imagine

can sometimes be scarier
and more terrifying

than what you can show them.

Something's in the dark
that you can't see,

but you know it can see you.

Help!

Help!

Some of the most effective
moments in horror films

are moments where the audience
thinks it's seeing something

or has barely gotten
a glimpse of something

and aren't sure
there's something moving.

But that kind of subtlety
is unfortunately kind of rare

in the genre.

"The Birds" is a monster movie.

Hitchcock made a horror movie
a monster movie,

and it's shocking
and horrifying,

particularly in 1963.

Birds diving at children,

so you've got screaming children

being attacked by birds.

What could be
more perfect than that?

Hitchcock went
to visual sequences

again and again and again
in his films.

I think that that's
what made Hitchcock so great.

You'll see Hitchcock films
that don't work,

but you'll very seldom see one

that won't have
some phenomenal shot in it.

Get out! Watch out!

I mean,
I remember the famous scene

where Tippy's
in the telephone booth.

And the birds are attacking,

and A happens,
and B happens, and C happens,

and before you know it,

there's this huge,
you know, conflagration

at the gas station.

And then it just pours on
with these bird attacks.

Imagine if you were
in a telephone booth

surrounded by these birds,

that they're diving at you.

Hitchcock takes you
into a circle of hell

when the whole town is attacked.

And one
of the most memorable scenes

was your watching
through the bird's-eye view.

And you look down to see
this decimated, desolated area.

That is what's called
a visual set piece.

And even though
it's early special effects--

obviously they didn't have CGI--

it works.

I think "The Birds"
still holds up today,

and it's scary.

"Mulholland Drive" actually has

one of my favorite taglines.

"A story about love
in the City of Dreams."

Just tells you everything

that you need to know
about that movie.

Living in Los Angeles,

seeing all the people
that live here,

all the characters,

there are so many
cautionary tales like that

that you come face-to-face
with all the time.

And he captures it beautifully.

The Winkie's diner scene
at the beginning of the movie,

it doesn't really seem
to have any connection

to the rest of the movie,

but, in a funny way, it does

after you see it
a couple of times.

I just wanted to come here.

To Winkie's?

This Winkie's.

That was the scene
with characters

that we don't know who they are.

And they're in a diner.
We don't know where it is.

Why this Winkie's?

It's kind of embarrassing.

And this all seems like
it's apropos of nothing

and he's talking
about a dream he had...

I had a dream about this place.

Boy.

And that it took place
at the diner

and that they were sitting
across from each other,

talking to each other
like they're doing right now.

There's a man.

In back of this place.

He's the one who's doing it.

And the great thing
about that scene

is the slow burn
that happens before...

I hope that
I never see that face,

ever, outside a dream.

All that conversation
that they have in the diner,

the camera is not static,

and it's not moving
on a dolly or anything.

It's just, like,
sort of floating,

up and down and to the sides,

so it already immerses you

in some kind of oneiric state.

Lethargic.

And then they walk out of it,

and something
very special happens,

which is
the camera doesn't stop.

They are walking, of course.

It's justified by them walking.

There's a growing sense
of dread,

and you don't know why
or when it's going to explode.

It's a camera that keeps
moving towards a corner,

and moving, moving forward,

and you know
what's gonna happen.

The worst thing
that a camera can do

is take you to the monster.

And that's exactly what happens.

And that's it.
Game over.

Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan.
Dan, are you all right?

"Mulholland Drive,"
which is just kind of,

you know, moody and creepy
most of the time,

is all of a sudden

the scariest movie
that's ever been made.

I feel almost like
that's his statement

on this cliché of,

there's nothing to fear
but fear itself,

and your fears are just that,
and they're just nightmares.

Like, no, sometimes
there's a fucking monster there

and you die of fright,

and it's not okay at all.

Silencio.

Hi, I'm Chucky,

and I'm your friend to the end.

Hidey-ho!

"Child's Play"
is a fantastic film.

Nobody believes you
about Chucky.

Unless you start
telling the truth,

they're going
to take you away from me.

I think the moment
that really grabs you

and makes you jump is

when Chucky fully comes online
in front of Mom.

Maybe Andy should spend
a couple of days with us.

You have mom

whose kid has now been
whisked away by the officials.

And she comes home distraught,
stressed beyond belief,

and you're kind of
tracking her belief system.

And she sets Chucky down,
and she's like,

"Okay,
if I'm gonna believe my kid,

I'm gonna take a whack at this
and try to get Chucky to talk."

Say something, damn it!

Hi! I like to be hugged.

What I love about it is that

she's escalating the tension
with this doll in the moment.

Then she sees that
stupid Good Guy box there,

in the kitchen, and she goes
to throw it away, and...

The batteries drop out.

The discovery of the batteries

is when things
really become heightened

because now she suspects
something supernatural

is occurring.

She turns him over, face down,

and she opens the battery box
in the back...

and it's empty.

Hi! I'm Chucky.

Wanna play?

And now the doll
rolls underneath the couch,

which was a very,
very difficult shot to get,

by the way.

It felt like two hours.
I went through hell

trying to get the doll
to fall and roll under.

We put the floor
on an angle like that

and then shot it like this

so we could get that moment

when the doll hit
and rolled under the couch.

She drags the doll out.

And she stands up.

And now she's getting
really frustrated.

How is she gonna make this doll
come alive and talk to her?

I said, talk to me, damn it,

or else I'm gonna throw you
in the fire.

You stupid bitch!

You filthy slut!

I'll teach you

to fuck with me!
- No! No!

It's just so bananas, right?

But it's so amazing.

And it's hilarious

to burst into all these curses.

No!

Watching that,
I couldn't help think

how someone dared
to go for this idea.

Like, a puppet, that
it's just gonna turn diabolic?

But that scene, where really
the whole concept cooks.

I've done so many movies
that seemed like

they were impossible to make.

The question was,

how was I going
to bring the doll alive?

How was I going

to make something
that's about 4-foot tall

seem like it could be murderous?

I had seen
the TV movie of the week

called "Trilogy of Terror,"

directed by Dan Curtis,

where Karen Black
brings back a Zuni doll.

Boy, are you ugly?

And the doll comes alive,
and all of a sudden,

she's trapped in this apartment

with
a foot-and-a-half wooden doll

that's trying to kill her.

What Dan Curtis did,

is he put the camera
on a skateboard.

These dynamic shots
of the doll chasing her

from the doll's point of view.

And then he'd cut to the doll,

and what he'd do is just
shake this dumb wooden doll.

And it was terrifying!

So I knew

when I got into my suspense
and action sequences

with Chucky,

if I'd cut to a point of view,

then I had potential

for a terrifying
action/suspense sequence.

Batter up!

That's why I love it so much.

It just shows so much bravery
from everybody involved

in this concept, in that movie,

from the actor, director,
and everybody on set that day.

They really went for it.

Ugly doll.

Fuck you.

- But Jack...
- What?

Where are we going?
- I don't know.

I'll tell you when we get there.

Okay, 'cause--

I think the scene in
"American Werewolf in London"

that actually is
one of the scariest scenes

is a dream sequence.

You don't really know
it's a dream sequence at first.

Puppetry is an art form, Piggy.

You call that violence art?

A wonderful misdirect

because that scene starts
with "The Muppet Show."

It's a good,
aggressive behavior.

Better than my act?

Nothing bad happens
during "The Muppet Show."

"The Muppet Show" isn't scary.
"The Muppet Show" is funny.

Now just...

Your main character,
David Naughton,

is at home with his family,

and it kind of seems
like a normal night,

and he's at the table
doing his homework.

The whole family's here,

and you're kind of thrown off
because you're like,

is this a flashback
or a time jump?

There's our guy.
Here's David.

It's his family.
We haven't met them.

They seem happy.
They can't be.

Something's up.

But "The Muppet Show" is on.

Get the door!

And there's a knock at the door.

I'll get it.

And when the father
goes to the door...

All right, all right.
Hold your horses.

You just don't know
what's behind it.

It's just
this very average door.

All right already!

There's something
about the not knowing

what's on the other side

that really gets to me.

It's these mutated Nazis

with machine guns.

Stop!

There's a moment where, like,

Mom just flies
off the screen entirely.

You see
the children sitting here.

They mow the children down.

It's just, like,
almost needlessly aggressive.

He is
subconsciously working through

what he's about to become.

So, for him,
Nazis represent monsters...

And he is turning
into a monster.

And this the only way
I think his subconscious

can kind of understand
what's happening to him

and this transformation
that's still not there yet

but it's coming.

And it's really poignant.
And it's unique.

And then we snap out of it,
and we're like, thank God.

Hello.

And you see Jenny Agutter
there at the bedside.

That's always comforting.

I've just had a nightmare.

Not to worry.
I have just the thing.

And then she gets up
and pulls the curtain.

Alex!

And then we wake up again.

And then David Naughton
says the one thing

that everyone watching
this movie is thinking,

which is...

Holy shit.

And it's just such
a satisfying laugh.

It's the best energy
of, like, horror and comedy,

I think I've ever seen

because the release
is so satisfying.

It was kind of the first
fake-out dream sequence

to be found in horror movies,

and that's back in 1981.

Since then, it's been
replicated a number of times,

more or less successfully--
usually less--

but nobody expected
that double twist.

I love when a film
does something like that.

I've just had a nightmare.

You can't trust
what happens next.

You have no idea

if anything you're watching
at any moment

is gonna suddenly be blown out
of the water as a dream

or as a fantasy
or as a hallucination.

It's really fun and unsettling

when horror films do that.

Can I have a piece of toast?

Get the fuck outta here, Jack.