Patrick Boyle

A young explorer of horror

issue 18 January 2003

How many people have heard of Michael Reeves? Most biographies are written about famous people or people who hobnob with famous people or lesser-known people who have led particularly interesting lives. Michael Reeves is none of these. He was an English ex-public school boy, obsessed by cinema, who made three low-budget horror films and died from a barbiturate overdose at the age of 25. With such a short and relatively uneventful life, why should anyone bother to write a 360- page biography of him? The reason is that one of his films achieved ‘cult’ status.

There seem to be two definitions of a cult movie. One is a film made some time ago that has grown in stature over the years and matured into something fashionably popular – The Wizard of Oz, Casablanca, It’s a Wonderful Life, Psycho, Some Like it Hot, for example; films that are forever attracting tributes and imitations and the origin of phrases such as ‘The wicked witch of the west’, ‘Nobody’s perfect’ and ‘Round up the usual suspects’, lines that have passed into the knowing filmgoer’s standard library of quotes.

The other definition of a cult movie – and the one probably more recognisable to the film buff – refers to an unusual film, sometimes acknowledged by critics on its first release but largely ignored by the general public, which has built up a small coterie of passionate admirers.

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