In regards to the somewhat subjective idea of influence as it pertains to any given element of cinema the list of filmmakers whose names you’ll hear is, for the most part with a few variables, the same. From the perspective of an outsider/spectator all we can ever truly ascertain about influence is little more than an educated assumption, unless heard straight from the horse’s mouth. One of the variables on a given list of names of influential filmmakers is the partnership of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. That is, unless, you’re talking directly to someone like Martin Scorsese.

A good deal of this is the difference in distinction between remaining part of the cultural conscious and having a fingerprint on modern filmmaking. Whether that fingerprint has been smudged and unrecognizable through dilution over time it’s still felt to those who are familiar. Those like Martin Scorsese, who may be the all-time champion of The Red Shoes having headed the painstaking digital restoration to make the film look as it currently does; which is nothing short of gorgeous. Why would he do that? Because it, along with other Powell films like Peeping Tom (also unlike most films of its time and closely resembling films of ours), mean that much to him as an artist and fan of film; and if he can make you feel the same then he’ll do what he can.

Every Sunday in October, Old Ass Movies will be teaming with 31 Days of Horror in order to deliver a horror film that was made before you were born and tell you why you should like this. This week, Old Ass Horror presents the story of a man with a camera and a need to film something unusual: the screams and tortured maw of a woman’s face as she’s stabbed to death. Unfortunately, the police just can’t leave him alone to create his masterpiece.

Last week I wrote about the history of the auteur theory and its strengths and weaknesses when applied to actual film practice. Regardless of the theory’s apparent problems, it’s clear that the idea of the auteur still holds great weight in framing the way even the most casual of filmgoer goes about experiencing cinema.

1960 changed horror filmmaking forever. Don’t believe me? Read on.