A few years ago, I talked about how I paid zero attention to rap until learning that Basket Case director Frank Henenlotter was close friends with somebody going by “R.A. the Rugged Man”. I touched on R.A. and his former labelmate Cage, listing horror(-adjacent) references they’ve made throughout their careers. Then, I held a magnifying glass to “Let’s Go”, the end title theme of A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child. Today, we’ll examine a different theme. I’m kicking myself for not mentioning “Who’s Dat Guy?” featuring Havoc, in which R.A. compares himself to exploitation filmmakers Jess Franco, H.G. Lewis, and Lucio Fulci. Those are fairly obscure shouts that sail over the average listener’s head. You’ve gotta be a true fan to catch them all.

R.A.’s approach is actually quite common. Rappers realized early on that crime pays. The harder they act, the more records they sell. It’s crucial to project an infallible tough-guy image. For this reason, many adopt violent personas straight out of the movies. Back when rap entered its golden age (the late eighties), slasher franchises were huge. Weaving their villains, actors, and even directors into one’s lyrics was inevitable and had the added effect of making them sound trendy. Here are some examples that come to mind:

“Just because you tried to be basin’, Friday the 13th, I’ma play Jason.”
—Big Daddy Kane, “Ain’t No Half-Steppin'”

“Yo, Marley gives a slice, I get nice, and my voice is twice as horrifying as Vincent Price.”
—Kool G Rap, “The Symphony” by Marley Marl

“One hour flight and I’m captain, like Jason I’ma take Manhattan.”
—Maestro Fresh-Wes, “Drop the Needle”

“I’ll put you in a mood or is it a state of unawareness, beware, it’s the Re-Animator… after twelve, I’m worse than a Gremlin, feed me hip-hop and I start tremblin’, the thrill of suspense is intense, you’re horrified, but this ain’t the cinemas of Tales From the Darkside.”
—Rakim, “Micophone Fiend” by Eric B. & Rakim

As Shawn Wayans slobbers in Scary Movie, “But wait, there’s more!” LL Cool J brings up Freddy, Jason, and Jaws on his breakthrough album Bigger and Deffer. The Geto Boys invoke Freddy’s name and allude to Leatherface on Making Trouble. Chucky was a popular choice too:

“Any emcee to last a minute’s pure lucky, cos I’m the baddest kid that you seen since Chucky.”
—Lil’ Daddy Shane, “The Symphony, Pt. II” by Marley Marl

“I’m like that doll Chucky, baby, keep comin’ back to live, love life like I’m crazy.”
—Chuck D, “Harder Than You Think” by Public Enemy (granted, this is from 2007)

The Geto Boys even named a whole song after Chucky that samples Child’s Play. Fittingly, it was performed by the dwarf member.

In short 😉 the main thread tying these artforms together is charismatic murderers. Rewinding a bit, the first real intersection between rap and horror may have been Whodini’s lighthearted Halloween favorite “Haunted House of Rock” (1983). It describes a party attended by classic monsters including Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde, and the Addams family. “Nightmare on My Street” by DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince is an equally fun, story-driven beat suitable for any seasonal playlist.

As rap embraced horror, horror embraced rap. It was symbiosis. Horror films soon began integrating these types of songs into their soundtracks. Before long, the Crypt Keeper and Freddy themselves were spitting hot fire. Finally, rappers appeared on screen physically. Ice-T, Ice Cube, LL Cool J, Snoop Dogg, Busta Rhymes, and Redman have all been in horror films.

Credit: The Thing, movie-screencaps.com

Can you imagine Flavor Flav portraying a wise-cracking killer at the height of Public Enemy’s relevancy?

Flavor Flav: Welcome to the Terrordome! (gestures toward his clock necklace) Time to die!

Police: Not so fast, Mr. Flav. We’ve got you surrounded.

Flavor Flav: (holds machete aloft)

Police: No way!

Flavor Flav: Yeah, boooiiiii! (slaughters both cops, looks at the camera) I told you 911 is a joke! (flashes grill, dances)

It’s a perfect fit. What a missed opportunity. Alright, somebody finish writing this movie!

For better or worse, the constant game of oneupsmanship that is rap means it’s always getting more violent — another quality shared by horror. The allure of both lies partly in how shocking they are. Masta Ace Incorporated responded to the escalation with their satirical track “Slaughtahouse”, as “MC Negro” and “Ign’ant MC”, stating: “Blood and guts are gonna spill / Cos it’s murder murder, murder, and kill, kill, kill / Chainsaw in my holster / Barb-wire rope, and I’ll hang ya like a poster / So when I grab my axe you better drop / Cos I swing, swing, swing, and chop, chop, chop / In the Slaughtahouse”

At some point, the term “gangsta rap” came along. Gangsta rap is a dramatized look at life on the streets of impoverished inner city neighborhoods, told from a criminal’s point of view. Major themes include sex, drugs, and poppin’ caps. While it depicts things that can and do happen daily, it’s rarely autobiographical. A number of greats did grow up slinging dope during the crack epidemic, but that doesn’t mean they “iced” any “suckas”. Remember, like Roddy Piper, these are characters whose stories are based in fantasy. It’s all a performance. Of course, the occasional bad apple will spoil the bunch. You’ve got your X-Raideds, Big Lurchs, and King Vons giving the rest a bad name. The newer generation seems to be dying much younger than years past. They’re making the mistake of living the gimmick. Separate yourself from your music, kids.

Experts consider Philadelphia, Pennsylvania the birthplace of gangsta rap. Schoolly D’s 1985 cut “P.S.K. What Does it Mean?” hints at a gang called the Park Side Killers he may or may not have run with. From there, the subgenre spread. Ice-T brought it to the West Coast, while the likes of Boogie Down Productions and Kool G Rap popularized it in the East. Kool G Rap later evolved his style into what I’d call mafioso rap, taking inspiration from organized crime families and action/crime films such as The Godfather.

Marge disapproves.
Credit: The Simpsons, Disney, Frinkiac

Schoolly D is another artist I learned of through movies. Driller Killer director Abel Ferrara included Schoolly D’s songs in King of New York and Bad Lieutenant, though you may know him best for providing the opening theme to Aqua Teen Hunger Force. He describes the double life dynamic in a bonus feature on the 2-disc “special edition” of King of New York: “To become Schoolly D, I gotta do this whole fucking thing, because Schoolly is a cartoon character. He is my evil twin… Abel told me ‘People don’t really want to know you, Jesse… people don’t give a fuck about you. They give a fuck about Schoolly. So, whenever you’re in public, you have to remember to be Schoolly to protect Jesse.’ Because Jesse is the guy who’s home. I have a daughter. I fucking cook every day. I sit down and have dinner.”

Horrorcore is the next extension that fixates on all the macabre aspects — insanity, suicide, evil, murder, dismemberment, even necrophilia. The beats are a little more sinister, and might sample movies. Insane Clown Posse’s Violent J credits “Assassins” by the Geto Boys with kickstarting this controversial movement. “I dug between the chair, and whipped out the machete / She screamed, I sliced her up until her guts were like spaghetti,” Johnny C orates. “A maniac, I stabbed the girl in her tits / And to stop her nerves from jumpin’, I just cut her to bits / An assassin”

Hey, that was pretty appalling for 1988!

Yep, you guessed it, my initial exposure to this subgenre was through a movie as well — The Fear, one of several failed attempts at creating a new slasher icon for the 90s. Candyman, Leprechaun, and to a lesser extent Wishmaster, resonated with audiences. The Fear belongs in the same box as the The Dentist, on the steps of a donation center. It’s a wooden effort that leaves me hollow. Tubi’s description reads (paraphrasing): “A group of college seniors spends a weekend at a cottage conducting a psychological experiment, where a lifelike wooden figure triggers dark emotions.”

Credit: Tubi

Somehow, it’s duller than it sounds. Almost nothing happens. We spend eternity following paper-thin characters played by generically beautiful actors, waiting for Hell to break loose, yet nobody dies for over an hour. Once they do, the kills are quick and unsatisfying. I was as board as the villain.

The film opens with psychology major Richard Strand discussing a recurring childhood nightmare with Wes Craven, who inexplicably agreed to cameo as his professor. In the dream, Richard is chased through woods by an unseen force. He next encounters masked gravediggers chanting “diametric”. Hilariously, he doesn’t know what the word means. His girlfriend has to explain it to him. Richard thinks maybe he’s mishearing “diamond trick”, as stupid as that is.

Craven starts analyzing the symbolism, but Richard gets oddly defensive. He changes topics to a “field session” he’s planning for his thesis. He describes it as “a weekend of fear exploration in a controlled environment”. Craven approves the exercise, on one condition — that Richard take with him a spherical puzzle missing a piece and find his own figurative missing piece. Craven reminds Richard that half the people who become shrinks do so because they need therapy themselves. That night, a coed is raped in front of the school.

Richard recruits girlfriend Ashley, stoner Troy, Troy’s older sister Leslie, Leslie’s shady boyfriend Vance, psychic Mindy, and Mindy’s boyfriend Gerald, the black guy. Richard brings them to his family cabin, which he hasn’t been to in years. His eccentric uncle Pete and Pete’s much younger lover, Tanya, round out the parade of stereotypes.

The hook is Morty, a mannequin Richard’s family brought home from a store they owned. We later learn he was carved by a Native American shaman. Ashley is startled to spot him tucked away in a pull-out bed. The group sits Morty down and utilizes him for the exercise. One by one, they tell him their deepest fears.

Is his termites?
Credit: Tubi

From A Nightmare on Elm Street to A Nightmare on Elm Tree.
Credit: Tubi

The creature design loses points from me. Tubi’s use of “lifelike” does a lot of heavy lifting. Morty is only realistic in the sense that a human is under the makeup. He’s a guy wearing an obvious foam costume trying his best to sit perfectly still for most of the runtime. I’ve never seen wood this bendy and soft. He’s knot cool or menacing. When your superpower is inactivity, the sole feeling you inspire is one of frustration.

Troy goes first. He’s scared of bugs. Leslie, aging. Vance, poverty. Mindy, heights. Richard, commitment. He’s also creeped out by Morty. Richard opens up about how his mom died in the house and his father sent him away during his turn.

Like Richard, Tanya is traumatized by a dream, except hers involves drowning. Uncle Pete forces her into a hot tub, prompting a freak-out. Richard heroically pours water over Tanya’s hand to prove it won’t hurt her. She’s not scared of water, you dumbass. She’s scared of drowning. Did you see her foaming at the mouth? She showers and washes her hands every day.

Sexily, the characters all start seducing each other. Vance hits on Mindy. Tanya falls for Richard. Troy kisses Ashley. Troy even tries to bang his own sister, who’s really his mom (!). To curb their philandering, Uncle Pete has them wander around his Christmas-themed amusement park. Mindy is so helpless she winds up “trapped” on a children’s train going half as fast as I walk. A gloved assailant grabs her. She stumbles out of the woods shortly after. Ashley concludes that Mindy was raped and decides the notorious campus rapist has infiltrated their ranks. How does she know Mindy was raped? Mindy is still fully clothed. And why does the rapist have to be one of them?

Skipping ahead — massive spoilers — the main twist is that “diametric” is an anagram of matricide, implying Richard killed his own mother. Morty somehow possesses Mindy and spells this out, quite literally, using magnetic letters. However, the meaning of diametric (opposed) flips the whole thing around, making Richard the opposite of his mother’s killer — another victim. This causes Richard to relive a previously-suppressed memory of walking in on his mother having an affair. Mom throws a wine glass at him, cutting his cheek. Richard’s dad asks where he got the scratch. Richard then points the finger at Mom — again, quite literally. So, Dad murders Mom, buries the body, and tells Richard if he ever spills the beans, Morty will get him. Is Morty real, or a personification of Richard’s fear/guilt?

Later, Richard recognizes a tattoo on Uncle Pete’s arm as that of the man he saw pleasure Mom, further complicating his family history. I’m calling bullshit on him never seeing the tattoo until now. In one last effort to blow our minds, Troy is revealed to be the campus rapist. His victim at the beginning? An ex. How did she not identify him?

Credit: Tubi

I should mention that Uncle Pete displays a bizarre fascination with Dutch folk character Black Piet, referred to as Black Peter, that’s crammed in as a representation of his dark side… I think. According to Uncle Pete, St. Nick’s companion punishes bad children. I’m pretty sure he invented that detail.

I digress. Morty siccs Mindy on Richard, controlling her every move via shadowboxing. Mindy falls off a balcony. Remember, she had the aversion to heights. The character’s phobias mostly determine their fates. If they’re not brave enough to overcome said fears, they die, tying back to an Elbert Hubbard quote we’re shown reading “There is no devil but fear.” Leslie’s death is the biggest stretch. She spins Morty around expecting to see her brother/son and it ages her fifty years in an instant.

Morty pursues Richard and Ashley to his mother’s burial site, where her skeleton, Richard’s father, and the younger version of himself, as they appear in his dream, all emerge. Richard is told by Young Richard that the missing piece he’s been searching for is inside the puzzle. So, he smashes it, solves it, and musters the courage to confront Morty face-to-face. Channeling Kevin McCallister — “Hey, I’m not afraid anymore!” — he drains the mannequin’s power. À la The Sender, Morty resignedly lumbers into a lake — the only correct response to being defeated. Richard hugs Ashley. Afterward, he informs Craven that he solved the riddle of his past and is dropping out of school. Meanwhile, a kid with an awful bowl cut kicks a ball toward the lake. It lands at Morty’s feet. The kid asks Morty if he’s a bad guy or a good guy. Without answering, Morty passes the ball back. They both smile. Freeze-frame.

This closing scene feels like a setup for a family sports movie along the lines of Air Bud or MVP: Most Valuable Primate. Coming this fall — The Goal Post: Mort ‘Em! Ultimately, I find The Fear rather pretentious. Whoever wrote it probably thought they were so fucking smart. I checked out the sequel and it wasn’t very good either. For now, I’m syca Morty (ok, I’m done punning). He’s a lame version of Pin. Maybe someday I’ll change my tune.

Back on the topic of tunes… It’s an overused joke that the best part of a bad movie is the end credits. In this case, however, it’s true. Try not to nod along and do those embarrassing sideways karate chop motions when “The Fear (Morty’s Theme)” by Esham (pronounced ee-shom) kicks in. Normally, I’d question why the anodyne film I just watched is being followed by gritty underground hip-hop, but this time I’ll take it. The song was written specifically for the film and can be found on The Fear Original Motion Picture Soundtrack, as well as Esham’s compilation album Bootleg (From the Lost Vault) — Vol. 1, the cover of which is a Shatter Dead reference. Note: this is not the same track as the one titled “Fear” on Detroit Dogshit.

This song is a banger, even though it’s redundant and self-referential. My grandma used to sing it to me. Her flow was unshakable. Most of the lines above are recycled from previous Esham songs and that’s fine. Let’s analyze them a bit. There are mixed messages bubbling through. For example, Esham lists four “biggest” fears — the sky falling, confined spaces, screaming/the sound of murder, and loving us. Wow, first off, fuck you. I’m lovable… aren’t I? 😢 Secondly, pick one. That’s cheating. Can we infer from the sky falling business that Esham fears death in general? If so, how can he also be suicidal? Make it make sense. Thirdly, it’s odd that he fears the sound of murder, yet focuses on murder almost exclusively, including here in this song. Lastly, supposing Chicken Little is as frightened as he claims, shouldn’t Morty be working against him, not with him? My favorite part is when the exaggerated Jewish voice that evokes Mort Goldman from Family Guy and the goldfish from The Why Files warns us that “Mawty” is in fact coming, like a whiny Paul Revere.

Another line that grabs me is “Morty, my shorty.” I’m no slangologist, but I thought “shorty” meant “girlfriend”. I’ve also heard moms use it for children… who are short. Morty is full-size. Maybe Esham wrongly assumed Morty was some kind of puppet or doll. Nuh-uh, he specifically uses the word “mannequin”! There’s no other way to interpret this. Esham is gay for Morty. I’m busting up at the brazen admission of intermedium homosexuality. Esham tries to compensate at the end by calling himself a “straight” suicidalist, but he’s not fooling anyone. I guess you could say Morty gives him a… woody. Sorry, I’d actually rather not think about how many splinters dude has and where.

Yeah, none of these apply.
Credit: Google

Hold up. If Morty is merely a reflection of Richard’s fear/guilt, that means Richard is gay, explaining his name — Dick — and fear of commitment to Ashley. It’s all adding up.

Kidding aside, I do love this song. I’ve been listening to it a lot lately. Day-oners might argue it stills feels a bit restrained. Esham is typically more vulgar. An additional song by him containing such colorful language as “Bend your ass over, cos I’m going in the rectum” and “Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, that’s what you is to me”, accompanies a love scene. We are talking about a guy who titled his third album KKKill the Fetus. The Fear‘s soundtrack is fire, albeit jarringly out of place. At least the movie did something correctly — introduce me to a new artist. I’ve enjoyed digging into Esham’s discography, like a husband disposing of his wife.

Esham’s rhymes are morbid, yet surprisingly profound at times. For example: “On the real, I don’t give a fuck what you got / Cause it don’t mean shit if your ass gets shot… / All that shit that dough might get’cha / When you die, you can’t take it wit’cha” is unironically some of the wisest stuff put to wax.

Per Wikipedia, Esham (which supposedly stands for “East Side Hos and Money”, despite being his birth name) was influential on fellow Detroit horrorcore acts ICP and Eminem (under his alter ego, Slim Shady). I couldn’t care less about either of those two, but maybe you like them 👍 It sucks that Esham never attained the same success. Unless you’re easily offended, give “The Unholy” a spin and let me know what you think. What are your favorite rap-horror connections? Speak now or hold your peace for three years till the next installment.

“That’s right, East Side Hos and Money. Esham, for short.”
Credit: ChatGPT