News Universal Monsters Scream 7 Director Is Making an “Adult Vampire Diaries” Series With Universal Monsters Local villagers report hearing noises from the castle once more By Matthew Byrd | Published on March 3, 2026 Image: Universal Pictures Comment 0 Share New Share Image: Universal Pictures Well, this is unexpected. In an interview with Esquire, Scream 7 director Kevin Williamson revealed that his next project is a TV series based on the Universal monster films that he says will be spiritually similar to the CW show The Vampire Diaries. “Netflix and Universal were very kind to let me go direct Scream 7 and put some projects on hold, and now I’m focused on those. The one I’m writing right now is a show,” Williamson says. “You might call it an adult Vampire Diaries. It’s based in the Universal monster land. I get to play with some of those characters like Dracula and Frankenstein and the Wolf Man and have fun there.” The Vampire Diaries comparison shouldn’t come as much of a surprise considering that Williamson created that TV series (though it was based on novels by L. J. Smith). For those who need a refresher, The Vampire Diaries followed a young girl who falls in love with a vampire in a small town where an unusual amount of supernatural events typically occur. Williamson has said that the book’s small town elements actually drew him to the project rather than the high school drama and romantic elements, so perhaps we should expect a similar emphasis in this upcoming series. No, the bigger surprise here is the Universal monsters bit. Ever since the fabled Dark Universe films became one of the most significant failures in recent Hollywood history, the Universal monsters have been surprisingly dormant (though local villagers will tell you they still hear howls echo throughout the castle walls that are mightier than what mere wind can accomplish). There have been rumors of creators pitching and developing various projects based on the monsters, but most of those reports suggested that Universal was more interested in standalone stories than a shared universe. While this show wouldn’t necessarily have to connect to any other projects, the idea of an “Oops, all monsters” TV series is certainly an unusual creative pivot. Still, the potential is clearly there. Shows like Penny Dreadful showed that you can have a lot of fun playing with monster lore, and there are certainly small town supernatural storytelling elements in many of the classic Universal movies that Williamson may be especially interested in revisiting. At least that’s what we assume he means by this being similar to The Vampire Diaries. It is, of course, also possible that a youngster will fall in love with The Wolf Man (once again leaving the poor Gill-man in the cold). No other information is available about the series at this time, but given that this could be Williamson’s blank check project following the success of Scream 7 (despite its many controversies), it seems likely this show will see the light of day. [end-mark] The post <i>Scream 7</i> Director Is Making an “Adult <i>Vampire Diaries</i>” Series With Universal Monsters appeared first on Reactor.

News If We Were Villains M.L. Rio’s If We Were Villains To Be Adapted for Television Rio’s other novels include 2024’s Graveyard Shift By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on March 3, 2026 M.L. Rio photo credit: Helenna Santos Comment 0 Share New Share M.L. Rio photo credit: Helenna Santos The effort to adapt M.L. Rio’s 2017 mystery thriller If We Were Villains for television continues. According to Deadline, the Barnz—a producing team that includes Daniel and Ben Barnz, and their daughter, Zelda—are now developing an adaptation to pitch to various networks and streamers. If We Were Villains was an international bestseller, but here’s the blurb for the book in case you haven’t had a chance to read it yet: Oliver Marks has just served ten years in jail—for a murder he may or may not have committed. On the day he’s released, he’s greeted by the man who put him in prison. Detective Colborne is retiring, but before he does, he wants to know what really happened a decade ago. As one of seven young actors studying Shakespeare at an elite arts college, Oliver and his friends play the same roles onstage and off: hero, villain, tyrant, temptress, ingenue, extra. But when the casting changes, and the secondary characters usurp the stars, the plays spill dangerously over into life, and one of them is found dead. The rest face their greatest acting challenge yet: convincing the police, and themselves, that they are blameless. This isn’t the first effort to adapt the novel. Back in 2022, writer Kristina Lauren Anderson was involved in an adaptation helmed by production studio Eleven. A Deadline source, however, called the Barnz’s effort “the strongest creative momentum for the project to date.” An adaptation would be welcomed by many, including Reactor’s social media manager, who had this to say about the news: “I want six episodes. I want it to be dark and moody. I want it to be a little bit bad. I don’t want to recognize a single face on the screen.” Time will tell whether those dreams will come true; no news yet on casting or if/when the project will be pitched out. [end-mark] The post M.L. Rio’s <i>If We Were Villains</i> To Be Adapted for Television appeared first on Reactor.

News The Legend of Vox Machina The Legend of Vox Machina Season 4 Release Date Set For June 3 It’s been over a year since new episodes have streamed on Prime Video By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on March 3, 2026 Credit: Prime Video Comment 0 Share New Share Credit: Prime Video It’s been a long wait for The Legend of Vox Machina. Prime Video first announced the news of a fourth season way back in October 2024, and we now have confirmation that new episodes will be coming in mere weeks to the streaming platform. Here’s the official synopsis for where The Legend of Vox Machina will go next: In season four, we find ourselves a year after the Chroma Conclave. Vox Machina has separated, searching for love, family, and purpose. But as always, the call of adventure is a breath away. When a long-slumbering evil awakens to threaten the realm, they must reunite to take on an epic foe. We got a sneak peek of the new season a few months ago, which had the gang looking to steal a scroll, heist-style, from a group of warrior monks. Good times! The animated series continues to center on a group of D&D-style misfits voiced by Laura Bailey (The Last of Us: Part II), Taliesin Jaffe (World of Warcraft), Ashley Johnson (The Last of Us), Liam O’Brien (Marvel’s Avengers), Matthew Mercer (Baldur’s Gate 3), Marisha Ray (Tomb Raider: The Legend of Lara Croft), Sam Riegel (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles), and Travis Willingham (Dispatch).  The Legend of Vox Machina season four premieres its first three episodes on Prime Video on June 3, 2026. Three subsequent episodes will premiere weekly on the streamer. Check out the sneak peek of the season below while you wait. [end-mark] The post <i>The Legend of Vox Machina</i> Season 4 Release Date Set For June 3 appeared first on Reactor.

Books book reviews Sacrament of Sacrifice: Obsessive Devotion in Bethany C. Morrow’s The Body Maya Gittelman looks at religious trauma in the new horror novel from Bethany C. Morrow. By Maya Gittelman | Published on March 3, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share Mavis means to do right by her husband. She left a lifetime of her parents’ strict church behind after her parents faulted her for her ex’s cruelty, and asked her to forgive the man for what Mavis knew to be unforgivable. But when strict scripture is the very mechanism that raised you, it’s not so easy to free yourself from its unthinking, unyielding grasp. Especially because Mavis has the sort of anxiety-brain/intrusive thoughts that manifest for her as “talons”—worst-case scenarios metaphorically digging into her brain. She takes some medication to help with her mental health, and then more medication after a violent incident that takes place at the beginning of the book, but none of that numbs the talons for good. As anyone who’s housed the kind of catastrophizing brain that haunts your waking moments knows, there is really nowhere else to go.  So when that great violence repeats, compounds, complicates, Mavis is struck by something that’s almost paralyzing hysteria—and almost a strange relief. Finally, the outside world matches the violence of her worst fears. Finally, her hypervigilance fits her reality.  Mavis will be a good wife. Because that’s the only path to being a good daughter—or, if she can’t be a good daughter, at least she can be that: good for her husband. Perhaps Jerrod’s love will be less conditional than her parents’. It probably will be. He’s a good man himself.  Too good, maybe. More than Mavis might deserve.  The synopsis says “Escalating attacks on her marriage,” but what’s happening here is more nuanced and interesting than that. I can sense the promo doesn’t want to give away too many of the twists, but I don’t think it spoils the experience to go in knowing the base premise, which is such a cool one: Mavis’s parents went behind her back to get her husband to agree to a congregation vow at their wedding. You might be familiar with the concept: In addition to pledging themselves to each other and God, the couple also enters into a covenant with their wedding guests. The congregation agrees to recognize the marriage as a holy thing, and vows to protect it from harm. It turns out “harm” might include “behaviors unfitting a good partner under God,” and neither Mavis nor the congregation get to choose the criteria that governs them—nor the cycle of bloody, divine retribution that shakes their community. When does “defensive protection” turn to “violence and control”? Often, in organized religion, if history (and the present) is any indication, especially in localized sects.  Often too, in the suburbs.  Buy the Book The Body Bethany C. Morrow Buy Book The Body Bethany C. Morrow Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget I imagine a congregation vow can be a romantic concept if you’re in true community with your wedding guests, but Morrow exposes the dark undercurrent of such a vow—the intrusiveness, the elevating of lofty sacrament over earthly truth—not to mention the weirdness of entering this covenant with veritable strangers if, say, most of the congregation is composed of people your parents invited. There’s such rich potential for horror there, and Morrow digs deep into the soil and marrow of it. What does it mean to protect a marriage? At some point, you have to wonder what exactly is being saved, and if it’s worth the sacrifices necessary to preserve it. One of my favorite elements, which I found myself thinking of obsessively in the hours between reading over the days I read this book, is how it’s religious horror without almost ever invoking God. No explicit prayers, no routines of kneeling and worship. Partly because Mavis left her family’s church, but partly because religious horror (at least/especially for women and other marginalized people) is not about fearing God. It’s about the behaviors of the people who believe beyond self-reflection that they are guided by a higher power. The horror is the bloody, gristle-rich sacrifice you have been instructed is necessary for salvation.  The horror is what people do to each other under the guise of grace. This has always been true, and as the daughter of a Roman Catholic Filipina, I’d argue it has always been true of the Catholic Church in particular. There are peaceful people of every faith, but evangelism and control are harmful no matter who preaches it. All to say, the horror is not about any one religion, really. It’s about blind obedience. Unjustified self-forgiveness. A sense of righteousness and purpose so powerful it blots out all else.  The Body is short in page count and tautly contained, but it wasn’t as quick a read as I expected, even at its propulsive pace. It’s less of a traditional story arc, opening into an extremely heightened moment, establishing great tensions to quiver throughout, then ramping to violent, satisfying punch of a conclusion. The real horror here is more psychological than supernatural. There are definitely elements of both, just expect something closer to a thriller in tone. I felt some resonance with Jordan Peele’s films; The Body is closer in genre texture to Us than Get Out or Nope, which is to say somewhere between psychological horror and rooted in fucked-up, what feels like uniquely American systems of violence, couched within the guise of community, righteousness, even morality. Horror as a space to explore the intimate twisted monstrosity we are all capable of, if we can internalize the right justification.  The Body reads like a perfect parable. It knows what it is even when I, as the reader, didn’t, which was enough to anchor my trust and intrigue fully, the entire way through, to great satisfaction. Mavis is perhaps my favorite unreliable narrator, and Morrow’s expertly employed economy of word choice makes her voice read so richly. This is at once Morrow’s mastery of craft and her trust in the reader, her commitment to the shape of the story and Mavis’s tremulous psyche, and it’s highly, highly effective. How can a narrator so fraying be contained in such an exacting narrative? Delicious. It’s simply such good writing, alternating between subtle and pushy to maximum effect.  A wife’s expected martyrdom. The obsessive requirements of patriarchal devotion, the performance of piety, the viscera belying rituals of communion, the prickle of thorns and talons. The Body is one of my favorites from Bethany C. Morrow, and—it might only be February, but I’m calling it now—one of my favorites of the year. [end-mark] The Body is published by Nightfire. The post Sacrament of Sacrifice: Obsessive Devotion in Bethany C. Morrow’s <i>The Body</i> appeared first on Reactor.

Books Front Lines and Frontiers A Nurturing Kaiju: The Luminous Fairies and Mothra After Godzilla, the world was ready for a kindler, gentler kaiju… By Alan Brown | Published on March 3, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share In this bi-weekly series reviewing classic science fiction and fantasy books, Alan Brown looks at the front lines and frontiers of the field; books about soldiers and spacers, scientists and engineers, explorers and adventurers. Stories full of what Shakespeare used to refer to as “alarums and excursions”: battles, chases, clashes, and the stuff of excitement. One of my favorite books from the last few years is Godzilla and Godzilla Raids Again by Shigeru Kayama, which contain the original adaptations of the movie stories translated into English by Jeffrey Angles. Recently I got to see Godzilla Minus One, a 2023 movie that captures the energy of the original monster movies and takes its story seriously, without relying on the campy humor that infected later installments of the initial run. So, with my appetite for kaiju whetted, I was excited to see that Angles had completed a new volume of translation, comprising the three stories that introduced another classic kaiju, Mothra. I have always been intrigued by Mothra, who stands apart from the other kaiju, with different motivations, a mysterious origin, and a telepathic bond with those strange tiny fairy women. Like the Godzilla book, this 2025 volume was published by the University of Minnesota Press. It also contains a translator’s afterword providing additional history and context for the stories and the film. The three short pieces that make up the novella entitled The Luminous Fairies and Mothra first appeared in the magazine Asahi Weekly Supplement in January 1961. They are a quirky collection that sometimes reads more like an outline or a historical essay than a narrative, and laid the groundwork for the movie that would appear later that year. About the Authors & Translator [Note: Since I could find little about the authors on-line, these entries are quotes from the dust jacket.] Shin’ichirō Nakamura (1918-1997) was a critic, scholar, and author of dozens of novels, many of which feature the experience of intellectuals during and after World War II. Takehiko Fukunaga (1918-1979) was a prolific poet, translator of French fiction, and novelist, known for his sensitive, poetic writing style and interest in existential themes. Yoshie Hotta (1918-1998) was an essayist and novelist involved in leftist politics and the international non-aligned movement of the 1960s. Jeffrey Angles (born 1971) is a poet and professor of Japanese language and Japanese literature at Western Michigan University. He has translated a number of works into English, including fiction and poetry, and won several prestigious awards and honors. He has also written a number of scholarly works and some poetry of his own. “A Lovely Song from a Little Beauty in the Grassland” by Shin’ichirō Nakamura Shin’ichi Chujo, a linguist, is part of a Japanese-Rosilican Joint Research Expedition investigating Infant Island, a remote island somewhere in the Pacific that has served as the site of Rosilican hydrogen bomb tests. Recently, four survivors from a sunken cargo ship were found on the island, but they were surprisingly not dying of radiation sickness. Instead, they told stories of an Indigenous population that lived in underground caverns, who kept themselves healthy with a nutritious (and apparently radiation-resistant) soup. Chujo is suspicious of Nelson, a Rosilican member of the expedition who has no clear role and a nasty attitude. When they go ashore in radiation suits, Chujo is caught by a carnivorous plant, and his compatriots rescue him. He reports seeing a mysterious tiny woman, just under two feet tall, and the team goes back to investigate. Nelson attempts to grab the woman, but he is told to leave her alone. “Four Small Fairies on Display” by Takehiko Fukunaga The joint expedition returns from Infant Island, and for some reason, Nelson is put in charge of all public information, holds one press conference where he refuses to answer questions, and orders all the scientists to keep their findings secret. Reporter Zen’ichiro Fukuda, after being turned away by other expedition members, is referred by nuclear physicist Professor Harada to the linguist Chujo, who is willing to talk to him, and the two become friends. Having learned a bit about the Indigenous language from Chujo, Fukuda decides to hire a ship to take him to Infant Island and goes ashore in a radiation suit. He makes contact with the Indigenous people, and they take him to their caves and feed him the soup that seems to keep radiation sickness at bay. They tell him their creation myth, which involves a god and goddess who create the world, and conceive a giant egg called Mothra. The goddess also creates four tiny women to act as handmaidens to the sacred egg, and before she dies, prophecies that the tiny women will serve Mothra, and Mothra will protect the island. Fukada sees the egg, and hears the tiny women sing. Then another expedition arrives, led by Nelson, and kidnaps the four tiny women. There is a slaughter, and Fukada is wounded. Nelson returns to civilization and puts the women on display in theater shows. While some people are offended by the exploitation, most are fascinated by the singing fairies, and the theaters are packed. Back on the island, Fukada, having been nursed back to health, watches in horror as the huge egg hatches, and a giant larva emerges and disappears into the sea. “Mothra Reaches Tokyo Bay” by Yoshie Hotta The crew of the fishing vessel hired by Fukada’s employers is heading for the island to retrieve him when they see a gigantic 100-meter-long white creature that looks like a silkworm swimming past. The translator Chujo and his female assistant, Michiko Hanamura, are attending Nelson’s show featuring the four fairies and note that, even after the show, the tiny women continue to sing, chanting “Mo-th-ra” over and over. Fukada’s vessel picks him up, and he heads back to Tokyo, anxious to warn the authorities about what he has seen. Chujo goes to Professor Harada, who is angered by Nelson’s treatment of the tiny women. When Fukada returns, he and Chujo break into Nelson’s offices to rescue the tiny women, but they say they do not need to be rescued by the men because Mothra is coming, and they are quite sad about the misfortune that will bring. A freighter sights Mothra, who has grown even larger and is heading toward Tokyo Bay. When the creature comes ashore, Rosilican and Japanese forces engage it, but their weapons are ineffective. The Rosilican government takes the position that the four tiny women are the property of Nelson, and as a Rosilican citizen, they will defend his rights. Mothra climbs the Diet building, and begins to form a cocoon. The Rosilicans produce a heat ray weapon, but instead of killing Mothra, it intensifies the growth process, and a gigantic moth emerges from the cocoon. Nelson flees with the tiny women to Rosilica, where he puts his captives on display in another series of shows in the capital city. But Mothra pursues them, and upon arrival, destroys the city. Chujo and Fukada arrive to find the capital in ruins and convince the authorities to let them bring the tiny women to an airport, where they are reunited with Mothra, who then flies off into the far reaches of outer space. The tale ends with a warning that, if Infant Island is ever threatened again, Mothra will return. Translator’s Afterword: Hatching Mothra by Jeffrey Angles As with the Godzilla volume, the Afterword was one of my favorite parts of this reading experience. Angles describes how, after the success of Godzilla (1954), Toho Studios was disappointed by the tepid response to the sequel, Godzilla Raids Again, and was reluctant to make another Godzilla movie. But they were not done with kaiju and science fiction, and came up with the idea of Mothra as another approach to the genre. Producer Tomoyuki Tanaka wanted a movie that would appeal to adults as well as children, a story with mythical roots to increase its appeal, and hired the respected authors Nakamura, Fukunaga, and Hotta to prepare a story treatment. Angles discusses the strong political overtones of the story. The Rosilicans are a thinly veiled analog for Americans, and the character Nelson is an archetype of American capitalist greed and arrogance. As in the story of Godzilla, American nuclear testing is the catalyst for destruction, and the growing dissatisfaction with Japan’s Security Treaty with the United States is evident in the descriptions of efforts to stop Mothra with military force. The Pacific Island setting of the story represents an interest of both the Japanese and American publics in what became known as Tiki culture. Many veterans from both sides of World War II remembered visiting those islands, and brought back an interest in the cultures they’d encountered. Angles describes the process through which the original story became the final film, and the various changes that were made along the way. He also details the way Mothra, originally written without an obvious gender, has become a more maternal and protective character in subsequent films, in contrast to the more male-oriented destructive natures of other kaiju. She doesn’t set out to destroy, and the damage she does inflict is a side effect of her efforts to protect her tiny allies. Angles closes his essay by pointing out some clear parallels between the story of Mothra and the depiction of a giant lunar moth in the Doctor Dolittle stories that were popular at the time. Mothra the Movie Having read the book, I realized that my recollections of Mothra were a mishmash of unconnected scenes from the many films she appears in, and decided to seek out the original 1961 film, finding a dubbed version to watch for free on Tubi. I was delighted to find that it is a well-realized movie that was quite entertaining. The visuals are bright and colorful, and the special effects, while sometimes crude by modern standards, hold up pretty well. The acting is more like a stage performance than the more naturalistic acting you see in modern movies, but the characters are entertaining and engaging. The plot unfolds smoothly, although sometimes the moralizing can be heavy-handed, and the character of Nelson is more an archetype than a believable person. Unfortunately, the Indigenous islanders are portrayed by actors in brown makeup, an unfortunate practice that was common at the time in both Japan and the U.S. that has obviously not aged well. There are, of course, differences between the original story and the movie. The four tiny women have been reduced to two, the singing twin sisters Yumi and Emi Itō. They shrink even further, to the size of a Barbie doll, small enough to be kept in a bird cage (and in one scene where they are kidnapped, it looks like actual dolls are used to represent the tiny women in the hands of Nelson). The mythical backstory is toned down, although ancient inscriptions from the caves of Infant Island provide the key to luring Mothra to an airport where the tiny women are waiting. Some of the explicit parallels to real-world tensions in Japanese/American relations are also toned down. And instead of the Diet Building, Mothra forms the cocoon in the wreckage of the newly constructed Tokyo Tower, a monument to post-war Japanese pride. The reporter Fukada becomes the primary protagonist throughout the film, and is played by the charismatic comic actor Frankie Sakai. His character is entertaining, willing to play the fool to get a story, while actually understanding a lot more than he lets on. Whenever there is action, viewers will note that he bravely takes the lead and approaches fights much like a “drunken master”—at first appearing overwhelmed, but actually remarkably effective in vanquishing his foes. Chujo’s assistant, Michiko Hanamura, is replaced by another character with a similar name, a photographer who works alongside Fukada. She is presented as a capable professional in her own right, and refreshingly not treated as a love interest for the male characters. Mothra, in larva form, rams and destroys a ship, but otherwise all the destruction is caused by the beating of her wings, which evokes the Japanese legend of a “divine wind” that once saved their islands from invasion. She is not bent on destruction like most other kaiju—instead, her motivation is protecting the tiny women and restoring the safety of Infant Island. Final Thoughts The Luminous Fairies and Mothra anthology, like the Godzilla anthology that preceded it, is another excellent addition to the library of any fan of kaiju movies. While a bit odd in their structure and pacing, the three short stories that make up the novella and the afterword that follows them offer background and details that add new depth and emotion to the story people know from the movie, and provide a fascinating glimpse into Japanese culture in the difficult years of recovery after World War II. And now it’s time to share your thoughts: You’re welcome to focus on either the movies or the written stories (if you’ve read them), but any comments on everyone’s favorite oversized lepidopteran will be welcome…[end-mark] The post A Nurturing Kaiju: <i>The Luminous Fairies and Mothra</i> appeared first on Reactor.