“Let's sow terror” will be the motto that will accompany the leitmotif of the 43rd Molins de Rei Horror Film Festival, which will take place from November 8 to 17, 2024.
In 1974, Tobe Hooper directed what would become one of the most iconic horror films of all time: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Five years later, in 1979, the film arrived in Molins de Rei with the 16 Hours of Horror Film Marathon, the seed of what is now TerrorMolins. That marathon also went down in the history of the festival for being the first with live performances, which also referred to Hooper's film. That is why the Molins de Rei Horror Film Festival 2024 wants to dedicate this edition to a subgenre that has given a lot of itself, and many of whose films have passed through the screens of the festival.
“"We sow terror.". With this leitmotif and a slogan that vindicates the festival as a breeding ground for new audiences and a fertile ground for the already faithful, TerrorMolins 2024 is presented, which will take place from November 8 to 17 with the Teatre de La Peni as its main venue. And with this text it begins to walk towards the 43rd edition:
“A sweltering summer afternoon can become a disturbing nightmare, as Tobe Hooper showed us fifty years ago. A chainsaw and an old slaughterhouse can come to life if instead of cows or pigs we stick a bunch of unwary young people in there.
Filmed with four duros and based very loosely on the macabre adventures of Ed Gein, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is not particularly explicit. It shows, yes, but above all it insinuates and suggests. The screams of the young people being tortured off-screen and the grainy, almost documentary texture of the film build a climate of tension that is at times unbearable. A key piece of American Gothic, a metaphor for a country in disarray and crisis, the charismatic Leatherface as the boss of the family clan paved the way for the B-series slasher of the 70s and 80s. A cult film above fashions, for the festival it is also an emblematic title linked to an unforgettable performance: at the 1979 screening two hooded men with chainsaws sowed panic in the Peni audience and the matter ended up at the police station, where the law enforcement officers verified that the machines had the chain disarmed. The resource of the paluds fanatics harassing innocent urbanites seeking isolated spots has been repeatedly used in genre cinema and has offered us glorious moments.
If we look a little further, themes emerge such as the contrast between modernity and the ancient world, the difficulties of understanding between different peoples, and the fatalistic realization that sometimes violence is inevitable. We frequently witness revenge or cathartic outbursts of brutality, and we can find social denunciation and very dark customs, as in the recent Piglet.
Paradoxically, the progressive depopulation and aging of rural areas coexists with the phenomenon of neo-ruralism: a certain exodus from the city to the countryside in search of quiet and less polluted environments. It is worth noting that this reunion, increasingly present also in literature and cinema, can be very playful, with clueless neo-rurals finding that their adaptation to the new environment is becoming unimaginably complicated.
The label rural terror is tempting, but let's not forget that the worst violence occurs in the cities. In the real world, the peasant revolt has revealed the difficulties and discomfort of a strategic and fundamental sector in our society, so it would be good not to stigmatize or fall into condescension. Let's get comfortable, then, to enjoy the "terror of proximity" and enjoy great titles from this fruitful subgenre.“