Hellraiser was British horror novelist Clive Barker’s directorial debut based his novella, The Hellbound Heart. What Barker presents can be labeled a more explicit, but equally imaginative and thought-provoking, rendition of a David Cronenberg film. What results is a meditation upon unrequited love and a study of taboo as we are propelled into a modern day mythology which, for Barker’s efforts, has resulted in studies as divergent as Freudian, Jungian, Lacanian, and Cartesian readings.
Larry Cotton (Andrew Robinson, Dirty Harry, Child’s Play 3) and his wife, Julia (Clare Higgins, Hellbound: Hellraiser II), move into his brother Frank’s (Sean Chapman, Hellbound: Hellraiser II) ramshackle house. As Larry attempts to move a mattress upstairs, he impales the back of his hand on a nail, tearing the skin and dripping blood on the floor. This permits the essence of Frank, who sought experiences beyond this plane of existence and consequentially paid the price, to be initiated once again. Julia discovers Frank’s malformed body (Oliver Smith, Hellbound: Hellraiser II) and, swayed by her emotions from an her affair with Frank years before, agrees to procure what Frank needs in order to become whole once more: human blood.
Even though the Hellraiser series’ iconography is based around the figure of the lead Cenobite (Doug Bradley, the entire Hellraiser series), to later be dubbed “Pinhead,” Barker’s original does not exploit or focus upon the demonic monstrosity. Rather, the character of Pinhead and what he represents with his Cenobite collective, serves as a metaphor for the pain and suffering of the unrequited love between Julia and Frank. The film not only explores how Julia’s infidelity creates a stifled martial relationship with her husband Larry, but also how their unstable marriage weighs upon Larry’s daughter, Kirsty (Ashley Laurence, Lightning Bug, Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth).
This tale of dark, forbidden love is paralleled by Barker’s unapologetic presentation of sadomasochism, projecting the topic, unlike anyone had done before, into mainstream culture. However, the psychology of diametrically opposed sensations are posited long before we discover the Cenobites’ philosophy: Frank, who in life sought the limits of experience, caught Julia’s attention for just that reason, his life as an hedonistic extremist. Yet, it is implied that Frank’s inability to continue to up the risqué ante resulted in Julia settling for his brother Larry as a consequence. Yet, once Julia discovers Frank’s dilapidated body in the attic of the Cotton house, she–once again–is ensnared by her repulsion for the inhuman form before her. The theme of sadomasochism is further reinforced in the character of Julia’s first victim (Anthony Allen), whom she lures to the house in order to supply Frank his much-needed blood, pens Julia in the foyer and slaps her in a trite attempt at foreplay. By issuing an undead figure who, despite his visual repugnance, remains an object of adoration, Barker, however coyly, permits himself to introduce yet another taboo topic, necrophilia, in that Julia sleeps with Frank before his regeneration process is complete.
Barker’s work isn’t restricted solely to the theme of S & M as a symbol for unspeakable love. Frank’s yearning for the further reaches of experiences culminates in his acquisition of what would later be termed the “Lament Configuration,” a puzzle box which, once solved, brings forth the Cenobites as they introduce the solver to the ultimate in pleasure and pain. The motif of puzzles is first introduced in the opening scene when the Cenobites appear in the Cotton’s attic and attempt to piece together the fragments of Frank’s disassembled face. Later in the film, Kirsty seeks out and solves the riddle of Julia’s odd behavior, discovering her escorting Johns back to the house and her motive for so doing.
Interestingly, the Lament Configuration finds its roots in Greek mythology. Referred to by the lead Cenobite as “The Box,” it is a modern day Pandora’s Box in that, once opened, things better left contained are released into the world. Equally fascinating is Barker’s allusions outside the Ancients. In the tradition of Gothic literature, the director respectfully nods to his forefathers in that “The Box” serves the same purpose, a manner in which to conjure beings from another realm, as H. P. Lovecraft’s forbidden tome, the Necronomicon. Understandably, Barker also pauses to acknowledge Edgar Allan Poe by placing Frank’s heart under the floorboards as it slowly begins to beat once more after absorbing the blood spilt by his brother. Yet, the references in Hellraiser aren’t limited to literature alone. The Cotton House is located at 55 Ludovico Place, Ludovico being the name of the institute in which Alex is deprogrammed in Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange. Another of its cinematic kindred is arguably alluded to in the opening scene in that chains are seen dangling from the attic’s ceiling at the Cenobites’ appearance, a possible reference to Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
Yet, despite the fact that the film’s antagonist is Julia, the Cenobites, defined as members of a convent or religious community, take precedence, however ironically, due to the fact that they are rarely seen and, as a result, their ambiguous nature remain as vague as their origins. The audience’s fascination with the characters are due to their figurehead, Pinhead. He, in the words of William Somerset in David Fincher’s Se7en, is “methodical, exacting, and worst of all, patient.” Unlike most every one of his contemporaries, Pinhead is never anxious to act upon his emotions, knowing that humanity’s curiosity and inclination to err will present itself given time. (Cynthia Freeland, in her horror study, The Naked and the Undead, states that Freddy is Rock ’n Roll whereas Pinhead is a symphony.) In fact, it is implied that Pinhead possess some form of omnipotence because, once again using his expertise in the philosophy of terror, Barker not allows Pinhead to be seen onscreen engaging in any type of violence (a lesson which his successors in the Hellraiser series never learned). Instead, we watch as, what the audience is lead to believe are the lesser Cenobites, execute the bidding of their leader. The paradox of the Cenobites also serves as a genesis for their intriguing nature: Their wounds are still moist, yet they do not seem to be in pain; their role is to uphold an ethereal code of ethics which, equally paradoxical, can be bargained with. The essence of the anomalies that are the Cenobites is presented in Pinhead’s statement that they are “Demons to some. Angels to others.” Ingeniously, Barker’s philosophical import can be summarized with this sentiment, in that, as seen during the film, what is one person’s pain may well be another’s pleasure due to the fact that Julia is drawn to the perverse figure of Frank the more he repulses her.
However, in lieu of Hellraiser being a shot in the dark, creatively as well as philosophically, during a time when effigy after effigy of mind-numbing slashers were a dime a dozen, the film suffers from inconsistent special effects as a result of Barker running over budget. Surprisingly, considering the work was Barker’s first time behind a camera, he did has the mind to procure composer Christopher Young (Wonder Boys, Runaway Jury, The Gift,The Exorcism of Emily Rose, The Dark Half, The Grudge, Species, A Nightmare On Elm Street Part 2) whose work is stunningly reminiscent of Danny Elfman’s more powerful efforts. Barker allocated Young after the production company rejected the original score completed by the British band Coil, which the director commented, “[Is] the only group I’ve heard on disc whose records I’ve taken off because they made my bowels churn.” (The band’s work for the film can be heard on their album, “Unnatural History II: Smiling in the Face of Perversity.”)
As much as academians hate to admit it, the modern day equivalents to Frankenstein, the Bride of Frankenstein, the Wolf Man, the Phantom of the Opera, Dracula, the Mummy, the Invisible Man, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon reside in the figures of Freddy Kruger, Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Candyman, Hannibal Lecter, Ghostface, The Tall Man, Chucky, Leatherface, Predator, Jigsaw, Alien, and Pinhead (anyone game for including the killer rabbit in Monty Python?). Agreed, the later aggregates’ power has, in many cases, been created due to shear weight of their continual cultural presences via seeming countless sequels, but they have nonetheless imprinted themselves on our collective consciousness. The figure of Pinhead helps usher the latter day antagonists to the forefront of horror cinema and, always open to debate, stands as one of the most dreadful characters of modern times.
-Egregious Gurnow
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- Interview with Director Stevan Mena (Malevolence) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Screenwriter Jeffery Reddick (Day of the Dead 2007) - January 22, 2015
- Teleconference interview with Mick Garris (Masters of Horror) - January 22, 2015
- A Day at the Morgue with Corri English (Unrest) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Writer/Director Nacho Cerda (The Abandoned, Aftermath) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actress Thora Birch (Dark Corners, The Hole, American Beauty) - January 22, 2015
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