The premise, like the ambient air of fatalism, owes as much to film noir as it does horror. A man wakes in a place he can’t remember arriving at, his body bearing the ravages of some misadventure, his memories a dense fog yielding no clues save a lingering sense of grave culpability.

Better Than One

A blonde stands to the left of a modest Christmas tree

Were you to remark that the 1940s represented a peak in American pop-cultural horror, most people would automatically think you were talking about movies.