By JOEL HARLEY
“Once upon a time, on a sad Valentine, in a place known as Hanniger mine, a legend began …”
Why do movie novelizations novelizate? It’s a question this column has often asked. The answer was once an easy one, with the film-to-book adaptation initially existing in lieu of accessible home entertainment – allowing your Nightmare(s) on Elm Street or Friday the Thirteenths to live on outside of the cinema. All this changed with the rise of VHS, DVD and streaming, and now the novelization acts as a fun way to revisit the cult classics of yore through a modern lens.
The novelization also gives its subjects a second chance to be seen as initially envisioned: re-inserting deleted scenes, splicing in those which were never filmed and upping any gore which might have been diluted by over-sensitive censors. Which is where Armando Muñoz’s MY BLOODY VALENTINE comes stomping in. The 1981 cult classic has been through many iterations over the years, initially butchered by censors and subsequently re-released in various forms with its thought-to-be-lost scenes of bloodshed re-inserted to make something resembling a Director’s Cut.
Author Armando Muñoz
Muñoz’s retooled MY BLOODY VALENTINE gets the director’s own seal of approval, with filmmaker George Mihalka providing the foreword and a brief history of the film’s development. Mihalka’s vision is realized in this adaptation, which returns to the small town of Valentine Bluffs for a vivid restaging of its most infamous massacre. Published in 2023, this was the first of Muñoz’s adaptations for Stop the Killer Games, demonstrating a knack for the movie novelization which he continues to showcase with his equally colorful and inventive takes on Silent Night, Deadly Night, Happy Birthday to Me and Black Christmas.
The book faithfully follows John Beaird’s screenplay, telling the story of a small-town killer racking up a body count in the hours leading up to Valentine’s Day. Valentine Bluffs hasn’t celebrated the Hallmark holiday since murderous miner Harry Warden’s terrible killing spree years ago, making February 14th a date to be feared rather than celebrated. But memories fade, and enough time has passed that the town is ready to move on. Against better judgement, Valentine Bluffs is celebrating the holiday again this year, Harry Warden be damned. But there’s a killer on the loose, and he’s determined to send a bloody message out to the populace – no parties, or else. Has Harry Warden returned to resume a vicious cycle of violence?
Muñoz’s MY BLOODY VALENTINE is successful in building a picture of small-town Canada, rich in history and shared trauma. As he would go on to do with the characters of Silent Night, Deadly Night and Black Christmas, he brings new depth to the characters, from cuddly giant Hollis (now a scene-stealer in book as well as film) to grumpy barman Happy. Best frenemies T.J. and Axel’s rivalry gets a thematically welcome homoerotic charge as the book explores their feud, bringing all-new context to their tug-of-war over the conflicted, frustrated Sarah.
Elsewhere, new scenes tighten up the pacing and deepen Harry’s legend, with a certain hospital visit emerging as one of the most chilling chapters in the book. It’s a treat to revisit the film after reading a novelization such as this one, with these rich backstories and tragic lives still ringing in our heads as the film plays out. Rest in peace Happy, we hardly knew ye.
Meanwhile, Harry Warden’s (?) rampage is more brutal than ever before, and Muñoz brings each atrocity to life with vicious precision. Utilizing Harry’s creativity with a pickaxe, this adaptation is more proof that the gas mask-wearing killer should have been afforded the same opportunities as Freddy and Jason et al. The writer brings a shocking level of violence to Harry’s kills – including one grisly sequence involving a pot of boiling water and a man’s face. You’ll never look at a hot dog in the same way ever again.
Just as efficient is the way in which the book expands upon Hanniger mine’s horrible history. Muñoz takes Harry’s underground ordeal and turns it into something truly anxiety-inducing. While (the film) My Bloody Valentine has aged well in most respects, it’s still quite cheesy (and I say that with love). Not so, this novel … unless you count headcheese, that is. From Beaird and Mihalka’s story, the author excavates a primal sense of terror, and the book’s depiction of Hanniger mine feels claustrophobic and dangerous in a way that’s authentic to the film and its unique setting. Scenes such as the climactic pickaxe/shovel fight now feel more dangerous than ever.
As he would go on to do with his other adaptations, Muñoz demonstrates a kinship with the original story which serves them both well – revitalizing its bleeding ballad for a modern audience while bringing all the well-worn thrills fans of the film had expected.
