Liz Osban

Things have really changed in a few years. I’ve always been into Halloween but I never really committed to my costumes in the past. And then a couple years ago, I started to REALLY get into horror films and photography. Maybe it was my obsession with Nosferatu (who had a reoccurring role in my dreams since age 4) or that the books I checked out the most in school were Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark but I’ve been attracted to what normally scares people lately. 

So last year I was Pennywise the Clown which was an interesting experience. Nothing freaks people out more than clowns. Which is really hard to decipher why. But when I saw The Babadook, I felt very akin to it’s style. It’s a gorgeous monochromatic film set in a timeless period of repetitive suburban single-mom hood. It sounds like it could be boring and stale – but that’s meant to scare you. What a terrible life to live – the same day, the same misery, the same child that resembles the life you were suppose to have where you were suppose to be happy. The film completely won me over when it had a George Melies crossover moment (the silent film within the film). It’s a gorgeous film and scares you with emotional tools you had forgotten you had since childhood and THAT’S what makes it special. Any viewer who simply found it odd or boring, simply wasn’t paying attention. If you’re looking for cheap thrills, this film is not for you. 

If you’re a mom, maybe this film is also not for you. 

But regardless, whether wicked or not, I was enchanted. Especially by the ending of The Babadook which without giving too much away is a gorgeous metaphor for anyone who deals with any mental condition. 

I handcrafted my mask out of clay, which I baked and painted, then glued onto black latex from a balloon. Spirit gum was the choice to adhere the teeth, latex and then onto my skin. 

If it’s in a word, or if it’s in a book you can’t get rid of the Babadook.