Easily the best Clive Barker adaptation since the first Hellraiser film, Ryuhei Kitamura's The Midnight Meat Train is so absolutely a "horror fans only" experience that I'm not surprised that Lionsgate wants to give it only a cursory theatrical release before dumping it into DVD. I do not mean that as a knock on the film. As a matter of fact, this is certainly one of the most effective horror films of the year -- but man, oh man... it would be a really tough sell on 1,200 screens. It's kind of an unfair catch-22 where certain horror movies are concerned: if you "go dark," dabble in grimness, and don't cater to the under-18 crowd, then there's a good chance your "hardcore" horror movie will debut on DVD (at best) or, like The Mist and The Ruins, arrive in theaters very quietly.

But let's hear it for the filmmakers who still insist on pushing the envelope, giving the horror fans something dark and challenging, and focusing more on mood, atmosphere, and scares more than in catering to the widest audience possible. Frankly, if The Midnight Meat Train hits only 100 screens (which is Lionsgate's current plan), I'd take that as a compliment paid to the movie: This is not a mainstream horror flick. If all you know of horror films is stuff like Prom Night, consider yourself warned.

Let's make one thing clear right off the bat: My miseries have nothing to do with the actual festival or any of its (so far fantastic) staff members, but I generally feel like fried crap on the first day of any film festival. I'm a cranky traveller who eats and sleeps at strange hours, and travel generally upsets my oh-so-sensitive nature, but Philadelphia to New York could hardly be considered "travel," so what's the problem? Stomach problems, for one, that have since dissipated (thank god) but had me experiencing all sorts of seriously unpleasant ... gastrointenstinal issues. Plus I'm staying in a nice enough hotel that unfortunately is really warm and dry -- and so my first night of sleep was interrupted by a horrific nosebleed that woke me up in a slight panic and ruined one of my very favorite pillow cases. (Yes, I travel with my own pillow. I detest over-fat pillows.)

So my first evening was jam-packed with shivers, sweats, vomit, lots of nose blood, no food, and very little sleep. (Ah, plus the hotel is doing jack-hammer construction on its numerous window fixtures, but only from 9am on.) Obviously I was more than ready to jump into eight days of festival work. At the very least I had to go get my press badge, so I made extra-sure that my body was done ... expelling things, and I headed down to the press office, which was completely empty at this early date, and populated by very helpful volunteers. (They also had lots of free beverages, which my belly sure did appreciate.)