I’ve decided to start a little movie marathon here on the blog. The premise is simple: Pick a title off the Netflix instant streaming list, either a classic or an obscurity, and then watch and discuss it. Anyone with a Netflix account knows about their unusual instant streaming section, but those without can still enjoy these recommendations (or warnings).

What better way to begin my HBN! series than with The Evil Dead? Halloween is approaching, after all! Feel free to add your thoughts in the comments or suggest a Netflix instant streaming film that you’re curious about but would never, ever watch. (I’ll do that for you.)

According to director Sam Raimi, the “Ultimate Experience in Grueling Horror” lasts just shy of ninety minutes. A bold claim, sure, but not too much of a stretch considering the title applies to his classic 1981 horror controversy, The Evil Dead. Most people (nearly three decades’ worth of moviegoers and horror fanatics) have sat through at least part of this movie by now, and Raimi’s creation deserves all the uneasiness and infamy it’s garnered over the years. The movie might clock a relatively short run-time by today’s standards, but those ninety minutes crawl and writhe, squeezing every second for all the blood and gore it can muster.

I remember the first time I watched The Evil Dead. To be fair, that night wasn’t terribly long ago. The film gorges itself on corniness: The dramatic keyboard synthesizer themes (by Joseph LoDuca) heighten the ridiculous, over-the-top tension, which the priceless facial and body expressions of Bruce Campbell (who plays Ashley “Ash” J. Williams) accentuate. When I write “over-the-top,” and even “corniness” (and some of the dialogue is pretty damn corny, too), I don’t mean the Hollywood bullshit that has somehow become an acceptable replacement for actual substance. The Evil Dead perfects, in every detail and inch of its horror, a kind of fear that magnifies and consumes everyone involved, including the viewer.

By Florian Bertmer and UK artist Olly Moss for recent screenings at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, Texas.

Here’s how the story breaks down. In your classic “we’re young and horny and ready for spring break” type movie, five friends drive to a remote cabin in the woods, hoping for an exciting weekend getaway. Only they’re not so horny as to be initiating an orgy in the car, and it’s actually fall. Anyway, there’s only about a dozen reasons why they should vamoose before reaching the cabin, namely the absurdly affordable price for which they rented the place. The bridge almost collapses (they laugh it off—okay, Scottie laughs it off), and the porch swing rocks eerily before stopping when Scottie (played by Richard DeManincor, who later appeared in the movie Crimewave alongside Campbell) walks toward the door. Now that I think about it, Scottie’s pretty dim. He even insists on hearing the rest of the recorded evil incantation despite Cheryl’s wheezy hesitations. She’s got a point, you know, Scottie: Listening to recited passages from the Book of the Dead is a moderately stupid idea. It leads to demonic possession and death, generally.

At any rate, their card-playing and pranks go to hell rather quickly, even before the woods and demons, who pick off Ash’s friends, start raping and pillaging (flesh-eating is vogue!). You can empathize with how frustrated Ash gets during the night because, for one, all that girlish cackling (imagine chatty and psychotic Sesame Street characters) and taunting is enough to cause anyone to make those priceless expressions. When the film begins, Ash looks like a big creep, to be honest. He kind of watches everyone with these shifty eyes and flashes the girls a weird smirk. With all the shit he endures, though, you quickly grow to like him despite his oddities. I mean, the other stuff is a lot more radical than anything he pulls, and he does care a considerable amount about his girlfriend Linda. That’s the movie’s one sentimental touch: By the end, he’s still holding onto that stupid necklace. He even uses it as a hook to push the Book into the fire, and every time he gazes at the necklace he remembers how much he loves Linda (Ellen Sandweiss). She turns into a Candarian demon, and he still gives her a nice burial. What a guy. It’s too bad he has lousy taste in jewelry. Is that supposed to be a magnifying glass or what?

My first viewing of The Evil Dead literally nauseated me. Raimi tucks all these little grimy moments into each scene, and together they can make even the most veteran of horror lovers squirm. The film teases you: Just when you think it’s tired of poking and biting and clawing at you, it pukes blood and pastel-colored chunks all over your face. Today’s special effects shrivel next to Raimi’s ingenuity. At the end, there’s not much for Ash to do except stand and walk out of the cabin. And he still has that dumb necklace in his hand. Some of the best scenes are the ones Raimi has silenced almost completely, such as when the group drives toward the cabin in the opening shot. The other scenes are polished with smaller features: the spider-web effect that infects Linda’s leg, the pipes that leak blood, the light bulb that fills and bursts (one of my favorites), the mirror that turns to water, the Claymation as the demons decompose … even the colors of the shadows and blood on Ash’s face as he watches his environment change back to normal. Not to mention the killer finale. Raimi includes a lot of subtleties, too. The director’s juxtaposing a sense of normalcy (the girls throwing the luggage at Ash, the bad jokes) against the unnatural setting (the mounted deer head and thick dust, the chiming clock) always manages to unnerve me.

And if you find The Evil Dead totally intolerable, then you’re supposed to: Who could stand all that melodramatic screeching and bodily spurting, anyway? Every time one of the possessed grabs Ash or tries to stick a pencil in him, he just gets this look of absolute and believable torment and annoyance; then he beats the shit out of them. A reluctant hero, especially to those of us who have ever had to deal with stupid neighborhood kids. Or younger cousins, siblings, child actors, etc.

In short, The Evil Dead is great. Watch it. Then watch it again.

Filmed in Morristown, Tennessee and Detroit, Michigan.