I love those old-school black and white horror movies. They have a surreal quality to them that I find compelling.
My favorite of the bunch is King Kong. It was the first time I encountered something poetic.
At the end of the film, after King Kong has fallen to his death, some bystanders gather around and one of them says, ”it was beauty that killed the beast.”
This bit of dialogue had a resonance that my young mind didn't quite fully comprehend but it managed to lodge itself into my noggin from that day forward.
The screenwriter must have been exceedingly happy with themselves for coming up with such a poignant line.
In retrospect, I think it was ruthless exploitation that killed the beast but that doesn't have the same kind of ring to it.