I recently found a movie that I hadn’t watched in years, The Collector, based on the eponymous book by John Fowles. I first saw it one late night on TNT and remember it vividly. It’s made in 1965, so it’s not really a horror film as we know them today. The fear is more understated but all the more sinister because of it. Terence Stamp does a terrific job of playing a butterfly collector, a lepidopterist, whose obsession is butterflies – and a young female art student. He decides to collect her like one of his insects in the hopes that she will come around and love him back. The symbolism is overt throughout but there is a decidedly haunting feel about this film that burns through the screen lingers long after the gorgeous end credits have faded out. The cinematography is worth mentioning too. Saturated, sultry colours of the kind that you only get with analogue film.