In observance of that autumn spell when we celebrate the primal, compulsive instinct of fear, Rainestorm highlights 31 days of spooky scares to season the eerie atmosphere of Halloween.

Reign of terror:1990

The horror… the horror: I was never a fan of the original Exorcist. Bereft of any real terror, it instead opted for high-octane shocks, predicated mostly on the concept of a fourteen-year-old actress displaying hideously vulgar behavior. The less said about its even more absurd follow-up the better. Part three is the only one in the series worth noting. A psychological thriller-cum-mystery with an offbeat sense of humor that finds George C. Scott’s Lieutenant Kinderman facing off against a self-professed serial killer inhabiting the body of Father Damien Karras, who previously hurled his sacrificially possessed self out a window that he might save the aforesaid teenager from further bodily function horrors. Novelist and screenwriter William Peter Blatty’s sophomore directorial effort is more mature, thought-provoking and intelligent than Friedkin’s, letting Scott’s reaction to surrounding events drive the story. Though studio meddling turned the third act into a silly contrivance meant to give the title relevance, the overall effect is a satisfyingly chilly thriller. And let’s please not leave out Brad Dourif’s tour-de-force performance as the Gemini Killer.

Halloween haunt: I’ve never been to Georgetown, but to see it through the lens of William Peter Blatty, it looks even more uninhabited than the tiny town from which I hail. Eerily empty streets, lonely nights in dimly-lit libraries, and the dark, shadowy cell of a psychiatric ward where most of the conflict unfolds give The Exorcist III a creepy, lonely seasonal flavor.

Tastiest treat: Nurse Keating’s peaceful evening at the hospital is demonically… ahem… cut short.

Check the candy for: A veritable cameo smorgasbord. In a dream sequence early in the film, George C. Scott encounters NBA all-star Patrick Ewing and romance novel model Fabio as a pair of angels, as well as a pre-Pulp Fiction Samuel L. Jackson as a blind man who sounds nothing like Samuel L. Jackson.

Devilish discourse: “Oh. Gracious me. Was I raving? Please forgive me. I’m mad.”

Goes great with: The Silence of the Lambs (1991). Continuing my contrarian ways, I must also confess I was never a fan of Jonathan Demme’s rather rote detective story. Essentially a retelling of Manhunter with a less creepy/more hammy Hannibal Lecter than Brian Cox’s brilliant portrayal. I always preferred Ridley Scott’s more poetic Hannibal. However, for you Silence fans out there, I’ll throw you this one. It covers some of the same ground as The Exorcist III, only louder and with a more beautiful protagonist (with apologies to George C. Scott).