Wine is its own kind of magic. Through a process known only to shamans we call "winemakers," actual fruit is transformed into something that is much more than a simple beverage. It is similar to cinema, an art form which also produces magic from recording devices, scripts and people who like to pretend for a while that they are someone else. Here's to movie magic and the wines that go with them.
The Shout is from 1978, a year that really needed a horror movie. Let's see, the Jonestown massacre, the Pacific Southwest Airlines crash in San Diego, a terrible Iranian earthquake… nothin' to see here. Let's put some horror on celluloid.
The bad guy in The Shout learned a trick from an old Aborigine, and it was something more substantial than how to make his boomerang come back. It was a shout that, delivered properly, would kill. I have fantasized about having a shout that would make drivers hit the gas when the light turned green. I have yet to make that work, but I'm still trying.
Location shots were done along the incredible Devon coastline, which added a bit of the spectacular to a film that didn't need much help in that department.
For a movie set in beautiful Devon, UK, let's grab a sparkling wine from Heron Farms, a bubbly made from the Seyval Blanc grape. Great, another horror. Just kidding, Devonians. Seyval Blanc is a perfectly good wine grape, although it is a French hybrid. If you can't nab a $40 bottle from Devon, you can probably find one from an East Coast winery in the US.
1973's The Wicker Man tells the tale of a detective who goes to a remote island in the Scottish Hebrides in search of a missing child. Scotland, huh? I'm already feeling that this wine pairing will be another tough one. However, if anyone should know about the taste of the blood of the vines, it should be Christopher Lee. He was tailor made to play The Wicker Man’s cult leader.
On the island, the cop finds a culture that has given up on Christianity and opted for Paganism, complete with sacrifices made by way of fire. The unlucky offerings are placed in a giant titular wicker man, then set ablaze. That's how the Druids dispensed with their prisoners of war, back before there was a Geneva Convention. This movie is horror times ten.
Since The Wicker Man was set in Scotland, it makes perfect sense to pair a Scottish wine with it. There must be some wineries in Scotland, somewhere amid the distilleries and golf courses. But after wearing out my Google finger, I have it on good authority that there are only a handful. Dr. Liz Thatch, a Master of Wine, scoured the countryside there when she went to play a few rounds and drink a few fingers.
If your wine allowance is gone on that sparkler from Devon, or just want something a bit easier, try a Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa's Wicker Vineyards. Or, grab an old school Chianti that comes in a wicker basket.
If you like your horror with a dash of dark humor, take in a viewing of Cemetery Man, a 1994 Italian film. Don't try to make heads or tails of it, just watch as our hero fails to get an investigation of zombie appearances because the paperwork is too dense. He is advised to simply shoot the zombies, so that's what he does. Over and over. You know, once you start shooting zombies it becomes second nature. And all my life I have believed that you couldn't stop a zombie by shooting it. Well, you learn something new in every Italian horror comedy.
Woodbury Winery of Fredonia, NY makes something called Zombie Red, which is a sweet, cherry flavored wine. First off, I won't insult your wine intelligence by recommending it. Second, it is sold out. There must be a shortage of White Zinfandel in Fredonia.
While searching for an Italian Zombie Zin, it occurred to me that Primitivo is the Italian name for Zinfandel. The Apollonio Primitivo di Manduria is as dark as Cemetery Man's humor. And it's a damn good wine, maybe good enough to justify shooting corpses that rise from the grave.
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