The Scarlet Gospels - What Started in Hell Will End on the Bookshelf

Two more days to Halloween
Halloween
Halloween
Two more days to Halloween
Silve–wait. What’s that?

The sponsor’s check bounced?

Okay. Nevermind.

Welcome back to the Third Row, where we’re coming into the home stretch on the winding road through the labyrinth that is Hellraiser.

The series has already had quite a journey to this point. Four theatrical features and another six straight to video. During this period, the movies and their original creator veered off and went their separate ways.

Mostly, anyway.

In the aftermath of the chaotic shoot for Bloodline, Barker started turning over the idea to his own end for the character of Pinhead. Over the course of a decade and change, he worked on a novel that would serve as his final word on the character, even as Miramax kept finding increasingly more tenuous forms of torment for the Cenobite to engage in.

The finished product of his efforts is the 2015 novel The Scarlet Gospels - his final word on the Cenobites and the first prose he had written for them since The Hellbound Heart. Stories by other authors have appeared over the years, including the novella The Toll that is considered a prequel to this. I considered adding it, but figured the plate was full enough as it is. 

In an interesting turn, this also marked Barker’s send-off to another of his characters, serving as the final story for his occult detective Harry D’Amour (who most may recognize from the movie Lord of Illusions, an adaptation of the first D'Amour story, The Last Illusion.)

Barker went through a lot of changes developing this novel. How much of what he originally planned vs what made it to print, I’ve not been able to verify, so I will admit, some of my read here is purely speculative. After seeing the arc the movies took during the period that this was being written, it’s hard not to feel like Barker was venting frustrations with seeing what his creation had become in the hands of others.

From the first chapter, one can see this is specifically his response to the cinematic incarnation of his character. When first introduced in The Hellbound Heart, the Cenobite was described differently - the nails in their head were golden with jeweled heads and they spoke in a voice Barker describes as breathy and like an excited teenage girl. When the character first appears in The Scarlet Gospels (where Barker’s narrative calls him The Hell Priest), the nails are now iron and the voice described is more in line with Doug Bradley’s. In text, this is chalked up to hearsay and apocrypha that incorporates the backstory of movies II and III, implying that Cenobites are effectively occupying human hosts until they wear those bodies out. It’s never confirmed, but that is the line used to justify the shift in appearance. Further, the fan nickname of ‘Pinhead’ is treated as derisive in the setting (Barker has gone on record as saying he wasn’t fond of it), to the point where a character calling him that to his face early on proves to be a most painful mistake.

Before I go on, I should say a warning as a courtesy. Prior to this entry, I’ve kept plot details somewhat vague to avoid spoilers. For what I’m touching on in this book, I’m gonna need to go a bit more deteailed, so consider this your warning. If you don’t want this book spoiled, turn around and wait outside. There’s one more entry waiting for you at the end of the month, but you’re going to want to sit this one out.

We good?

Okay! Moving on!

If the change in physical description wasn’t enough to say Barker is commenting on the films, the story makes it more distinct - we learn early on that the Hell Priest has been breaking from the purposes of his order and researching various sorts of magic. His reasons? He has been plotting in secret to wage war on Hell itself - to tear down the entire organization and rebuild it in his image.

His plans near completion, and he lacks only one thing to complete what he sees as his triumph - someone worthy to witness (and, he hopes, chronicle) his deeds. Enter D’Amour, who reluctantly chases the Priest into Hell, not because he wants the job, but to save a friend who has been taken hostage.

While D’Amour and his team are an active part of the story - and as a pleasant surprise, this has me wanting to read the rest of the works Barker has written for this character - this is ultimately about the Hell Priest. Harry and co travel in his wake, clocking the devastation the Priest’s rebellion has wrought. Where past Barker tales of the Cenobites focused on the human darkness with Hell acting in response to this, here he reads more like what the films became as his influence eased off - acting not in service of a larger order, but for the Priest’s personal desires.

Then there’s where those ambitions lead. Prior to this point, I was half-entertaining the meta read of this. Then I got to the Priest’s end game, and it really strengthened the sense that this was Barker's response to a series that, as he was writing this, just slid further and further away from the world he crafted.

That end game? Lucifer himself.

From early on, Barker establishes Lucifer as a mystery. He is still recognized as the authority in Hell, but no one has seen him in ages. His whereabouts are unknown, but he is still highly regarded by the current order of demons that populate the realm. A feeling that doubtless smacks a bit of the feeling I’m sure many creators experience when they see a studio speak of their name in lofty tones while churning out creations that seem further and further from their original vision.

As the old order of Hell is torn down around him, the Priest keeps his last goal close to his carefully mutilated chest - he seeks what is regarded to be Lucifer’s last stronghold. What he finds on confronting that great creator of all he has laid waste to? A corpse.

Sort of.

Again, if one takes The Scarlet Gospels as meta commentary, Barker is framing himself as Lucifer - a tired being, worn out from being cast down who just wants to not be a part of the operation anymore. In text, this comes as, more than anything, the fallen angel wants to die, but is cursed not to. When the Priest finds him, he has constructed an apparatus that allows him to get as close as he conceivably can to non-existence, impaled and inert upon his throne.

Seeking to supplant his creator, the Priest rips the suicide apparatus to pieces and sets out to take Lucifer’s armor for his own, hacking and carving away at his own form to fit the new role (again, very hard not to read the commentary.) Having taken Lucifer’s armor, and armed with magic, the Priest is on the verge of becoming the new ruler of Hell. The cities are in ruins, the generals dead, and he is toppling the last resistance as the scattered armies pursue him into the stronghold.

Except for the part where Lucifer isn’t actually dead.

Not only that, he is PISSED.

The reason Lucifer is so angry? He just wanted to rest. He just wanted to not exist. He didn’t want to have to deal with the pain of his exile and this was the closest out he could manage.

And his creations couldn’t even allow him that.

The climax of the book follows a duel to the death between Lucifer and his rebellious creation, with each brutally tearing into the other in a battle that plays hard to Barker’s twin tastes of fantasy and horror. It’s also a sequence so fantastical I can almost imagine him working it thinking ‘Try and make this on the cheap’ to the rights holders.

We don’t get the specifics of how it ends (Harry and the others take the opportunity to escape), but Lucifer is the winner. Broken, beaten, and badly wounded, all the Priest has left to him is one last act of spite for D’Amour  for turning away from witnessing the final battle. That it ended in the Priest’s defeat is irrelevant, Harry was supposed to watch. In retaliation, he blinds the detective before wandering off into a Hell that an enraged Lucifer is now tearing asunder.

The last we see of the Priest, he is limping through the crumbling ruins before one last unseen force (presumably some equivalent to God) unmakes the now abandoned Hell, the Priest included.

Having escaped his kingdom, Lucifer goes to Earth. Not to conquer or do any great evil, but simply to exist for a while and see where that takes him.

I know I'm harping, but it is really, really, really hard to read this and not come away with the sense of an author frustrated by a creation that got away from him. So frustrated that his only cathartic solution is to see that character cast down and torn asunder before being finally unmade.

Knowing how much Barker reworked this, I feel a certain curiosity to know what this started as vs what it became. At one point, Barker was promising a story over a thousand pages in length (by comparison, the finished tale is a fairly modest 360.) Given how clearly the descriptions skew towards the movie version of the character, the role the Priest expects of Harry D’Amour to simply watch his conquest, and how much of the novel Barker focuses on the Priest’s act of rebellion and the consequences of his actions brought about by a tired, angry creator, I have to imagine the sequels had a hand in helping shape the tone and direction of these works.

Especially in light of this.

 

That gives him still the better part of four years to rework the novel into the cathartic last word on the character it comes across as.

With this, it seemed Barker was done with the Hell Priest, and that version of Hell itself. He had said his piece and laid him to rest, and was ready to move on.

Then something happened.

And for the first time, in a long time, Barker picked up the box again.

See you again soon, as we close the door on this chapter of Hell and a new one opens.

Till then.

Hellraiser and The Hellbound Heart – A Boy, a Girl, and a Box

Hello and welcome back to another October here at the Third Row.

As I said last time, this month I’m diving into the surprisingly deep back catalog of the Hellraiser franchise.

This first step was, for me, a mix of old and new. The 1987 film is one I will admit up front to having a fondness for. At the same time, I confess to being a newcomer to Clive Barker's written works, finally reading The Books of Blood back in 2019. As a result, this marked my first time reading The Hellbound Heart, the original novel that Barker adapted the movie from.

Taking in both versions close to one another, to my pleasant surprise, served to enhance rather than detract. As the man behind both versions, Barker presents a largely faithful adaptation of his book. What changes he makes reflect the difference in mediums and benefits both.

I'm not putting these together just to play compare and contrast, however. In fact, the aspect I really wanted to focus on is one that plays the same in both versions. It’s also a topic that will be a major part of this month.

With that said, let's get into Pinhead, shall we?

More than anything, to invoke the title Hellraiser calls to mind Douglas Bradley’s grid-faced priest of Hell. He is a horror icon on the level of Jason Voorhees, Michael Meyers, and Freddie Krueger.

Which makes it interesting that, in the beginning, this wasn't his story. In fact, the earliest form of the character is barely there.

If you were to have someone with no knowledge of the series read The Hellbound Heart in a vacuum and ask them where they would see a larger series coming from, they might correctly guess the Cenobites as a group, but still be hard-pressed to recognize the one member who would come to represent the series.

In fact, within the confines of the original novel, the character isn't even named as such (Pinhead was a behind the scenes nickname on the movie that fans adopted, becoming official in the sequels.) The Cenobite that matches the appearance is a supporting character who has maybe ten lines in the whole book, as a generous estimate.

Not a bad promotion, all things considered.

"Clean-up duty now. Straight to video sequels later!"

Of course, that’s for later entries, though they do factor into my thoughts here.

Hellraiser is one of those movies I remember liking as a teen for the shock value. The movie’s blood-soaked finale, in particular, where fugitive damned soul Frank Cotton is reclaimed by Hell in a display involving hooks and chains that is still an impressive, if graphic sight nowadays.

As an adult nearing 40, I still appreciate that. For one thing, it’s a great, grisly visual and kicks off the movie’s delightfully chaotic finale. Plus they have spent so much time setting up Frank as an utter bastard that it’s hard not to enjoy seeing him reap his karmic reward. With age, however, I’ve also come to appreciate just how the reduced rule of the Cenobites plays in the larger film, especially with regards to Frank’s aforementioned awfulness.

Contrary to the marketing, Pinhead and his cadre of torture priests aren’t the main villains of the movie. They aren’t summoned to do wrong or inflict torment on the innocent, they’re summoned in response to a misdeed. Instead, the core horror of the movie is focused on the dark, savage, and all too human love affair between Frank and Julia.

That human factor is part of what makes the story so interesting to me. Yes, for large parts of the film, Frank certainly doesn’t look the part (physically, he is a ghoul, made to feed on the blood of others in order to slowly restore himself) but his arc is still familiar, if amplified for horror. Frank is presented from the jump as a man in pursuit of pleasure - it’s his prime reason for seeking the puzzle box in the first place. He gets far more than he had bargained for, however, and instead spends most of the movie trying to find a way to cheat the consequences of what he agreed to. Julia is in similar straits - bored by her marriage to Frank’s brother, Larry, she has been harboring desires for the man she had an affair with years earlier. When Frank returns, however half-formed and appeals to her, she doesn’t have to be asked twice.

One particular change in adaptation I have to give Barker points for -
The decision to change Kirsty from just a friend to Larry's daughter.
It's an extra detail that adds to Frank's creepiness by giving his 

advances an overtly incestuous overtone 

(no doubt intentional given how Sean Chapman
leans into the delivery on "Come to Daddy.")

Over the course of the film, these are the two we see as monsters - Julia picking up random men she can then kill and feed to Frank (though many are seen as alive when Frank starts to feed, adding to the brutality as they plead for mercy.) All are seen as expendable in their pursuit of pleasures, culminating in their decision to murder Larry - ending in a final ‘insult to injury’ as Frank wears his skin as a disguise to fool Larry’s daughter, Kirsty.

By comparison, the Cenobites are, despite their ethos of pain mixed with pleasure, strictly business - they come when the box summons them. They bring whoever summons them to Hell to be subjected to torments for all eternity. They are beings that could be described as horrifically principled. The only time we see them even slightly waver on their rules is a result of Kirsty accidentally summoning them, then bartering to avoid damnation. Even that flex is, ultimately, still within their jurisdiction - the box summons them and they can’t return empty handed. In order to give them someone in her place, Kirsty offers them a more tempting target - one who has broken their rules and that they would, otherwise, be unable to deal with unless he summoned them himself.

It goes back to an aspect of horror that I’ve resonated with more and more over the years - so many of the monsters mankind has dreamed are presented as beings with set rules. There are ways to deal with them, ways to avoid them, ways to summon them, and in some cases ways to defeat them. It’s not universal, of course, but often there is a sense of guidelines that are seen as irrefutable, or if refuted, the storyteller is called to task on.

As a result, they are often presented as more principled, reasonable, and, for lack of a better term, honor bound than human beings. Just as often as horror presents creatures with set rules of engagement, it presents stories about how the most disturbing aspects of human beings is how they will frequently skirt the bounds of what is acceptable or the social contract in pursuit of their own personal drives.

Love is...
Helping your skinless partner by bringing home people
he can drain the life force from.

In this case, that means the beings who live and thrive in an alternate world where pain and pleasure are horrifically intertwined, despite a lifestyle built around sensation, are still framed to us as the creatures of (for lack of a better term) law and order, compared to the movie’s fugitive couple. Despite their menacing appearances and brutal means of dealing with those who are damned, they are ultimately seen as fair against the self-serving, ruthless counter of Frank and Julia, whose love is even secondary to self preservation.

While I don’t imagine marketing did it this way on purpose, the misdirect makes the movie into a great inversion of expectations that allows it to stand the test of time arguably far better than many of the movies that came after where our leather-bound sadomasochists take the center stage.

That, however, is a topic for later this month. For now, the time comes to put the box back on the shelf.

It won’t have long to gather dust, however. Keep an eye out, for soon we’ll be back here to discuss the fascinating, fantastical sequel that literally takes us to Hell in Hellbound: Hellraiser II.

Till then.

This October – The Third Row Goes to Hell

Summer has ended. The days are getting cooler. The nights are coming sooner.

Fall is here.

More to the point, October is here.

I had debated whether or not to do the franchise run again this year. Life's been all over the place, and part of me was still irked that last year didn't quite go to plan. For what it's worth, the Godzilla run DID lead to a video presentation for those who are interested in seeing it.

In truth, I only really started really feeling the itch to make another run this year in early September.

So, after weighing options, and putting it to a poll, here I stand poised for a fairly busy October. Because like I said up top – we're going to Hell this month. Repeatedly.

That's right – starting now till the 31^st, we're diving in the labyrinth of skin ripping and BDSM puzzle enthusiasts that make up Clive Barker's* Hellraiser series.

*Okay, PARTIALLY Clive Barker's. We'll get into that later in the month.

And oh, what a month it shall be. Ten films, the novel that started it all, the upcoming Hulu reboot, and Barker's (at the time) final word on the property.

I've had the better part of a year to rest up for this one and I intend to make up for the lost time in a big way.

So put down some newspaper and limber up your fingers. The first spin at the puzzle box will be coming real soon.

Till then.