The Drive-In: A Double-Feature Omnibus
A novel by Joe R. Lansdale

I seem to have a lot in common with East Texas horror/western/dark fantasy writer Joe R. Lansdale. Like him, I grew up in the wilds of Texas, worked a variety of truly horrid jobs, studied karate for years, and attempted to instill my prose fiction writing with the unique perspective offered by my regional experience. And like Lansdale, I possess a tremendous fondness for the days when Drive-Ins were the only way I could see cult classic B-movies like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Last House on the Left and The Toolbox Murders broadcast on a big screen while gleeful crowds hooted their delight in the night air. Unlike Lansdale, however, I've never written anything as outlandishly fun or audaciously original as the two novelettes that make up The Drive-In.

The first novelette, which goes under the name Drive-In: A B-Movie with Blood and Popcorn, Made in Texas follows the adventures of three kids, Bob, Dan, and the nameless narrator, who accompany their older friend Willard to a horror movie extravaganza one night at the Orbit, a local multiplex drive-in. In the midst of blood and popcorn, everyone present bears witness to one of the most bizarre astrological events possible: a comet sweeps out of the sky toward the Orbit and, just before impact, the heavenly body opens up with a wide, toothy grin and smiles. Moments later, the drive-in is surrounded by sheer impenetrable blackness, and the Saturday night crowd finds itself trapped inside the Orbit. Any attempt to leave results in a messy death, as the inky blackness dissolves escapees the moment they come into contact with it. There is no explanation for this.

It's strictly a B-movie setup, and this is where Lansdale's exploration of the dark side of human nature kicks in. Forced to survive only on goods from the concession stand, the Orbit's denizens eventually settle in to an endless night of exploitation movies, which play repeatedly on the projectors. Soon, food runs out, and other supplies must be sought. Lansdale's question here is a sharp one -- are we defined by what we watch? Taboos are broken, and things get messy. Finally, Willard and Dan become emissaries for a grotesque deity known as the Popcorn King, who demands endless sacrifice and worship, and the narrator questions this new reality as well as his place within it. All in the midst of an action-oriented horror adventure.

The second novelette, The Drive-In 2: Not Just Another One of Them Sequels explores the ramifications of what happens when the last surviving audience members finally escape their prison, only to discover that the environment outside is something out of The Lost World, loaded with pitfalls that include monstrous dinosaurs and men who pray to television gods. And it is here that we meet Grace, a lone female survivor who asks our narrator to accompany her to the end of the world.

Needless to say, this is not your father's horror novel. Lansdale deft skill at playing with heady concepts of the effects of violence here is astonishing. Whether he's describing the awe at watching a sun rise on an alien world or the revulsion of a starving family forced to eat their own dead child (a point at which I put the book down and took a hearty breath) his aim is true in that it allows the reader to question his or her own reaction to events of a visceral nature. The writing style is spare and pointed, told in casual Hemingway-esque first person narrative, so that we experience the horror and accompanying catatonic shock firsthand. Lansdale wants us to feel this world, to know the consequences of our actions. This is bold stuff, not for the squeamish, and it rivals the work of Stephen King on The Stand in the scope of its visionary, apocalyptic nature. It's horror on an epic scale... with a measured East Texas drawl.

Though these two works were originally published by small presses in the mid-eighties, the subject matter is ever relevant, and it's a treat to see their reemergence in a single volume. Lansdale is perhaps the most underrated writer working in the genre today, in spite of the fact that he's published over fifteen novels and several short story collections, and he's a voice that commands attention. The importance of his work lies in the subtle craft employed in masking eternal questions in entertainingly ribald tales, a gift that only a handful of writers possess. Joe Lansdale knows that we are defined by experience, and he understands that we are what we watch.

RE-READ FACTOR: The simple, straightforward nature of the writing may lull you into taking everything at face value, but there are enough subtexts here to merit several reads. And these characters are so strong and intriguing that you'll want to visit them again.

SEQUEL FACTOR: While the sequel part is fairly obvious, given that these are two separate works, there's plenty of room left for another visit. And Lansdale tends to revisit characters quite a bit, so here's hoping.

STRONG CHICK FACTOR: Even though she's a trained martial arts expert, Grace's true strength is that of character. She's a woman who relates her life matter of factly and comes to her decisions based on willful experience. You don't often run into male-written female characters of this depth.

-- David Rosiak

The Drive-In: A Double-Feature Omnibus, published by Carrol & Graf, is currently available in paperback.

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