1. The Influence of Period Horror

In I Sell the Dead (2008), you masterfully blended black comedy with Victorian horror. What is it about the 19th-century aesthetic that fascinates you so much compared to modern, tech-driven horror?

Setting something in a world without social media or smartphones is immediately appealing to me, simply because those technologies don’t particularly interest me as storytelling tools. While The Restoration at Grayson Manor (2025) does use some modern technology, you could argue that film almost functions as a kind of period piece as well, because I’m more interested in the Gothic sensibility of technology. It’s in the tradition of Mary Shelley and Bram Stoker, where new inventions feel mysterious and slightly uncanny rather than mundane. I also love period costume. Wardrobe alone can do so much of the world-building. There’s a sense that the clothing itself tells you who these people are and what kind of world they inhabit. I’ve always loved the idea that Francis Ford Coppola originally envisioned Dracula (1992) almost as a kind of black-box production where the costumes themselves functioned as the production design. That idea, that the aesthetic choices themselves conjure the world, has always appealed to me.

2. Irish Heritage

As an Irish director based in New York, how does the folklore or the narrative sensibility of your home country influence the “Gothic” tone of your work?

I actually returned to Ireland in 2018 after spending about twenty years in New York, so coming home has been both a lifestyle and creative shift for me. The Gothic sensibility in my work probably comes from a love of British horror cinema, particularly Hammer and Amicus, filmmakers like Terence Fisher and Freddie Francis. But Irish culture and literature are very important to me as well. Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897) is my favourite novel. In many ways it feels like the original “found footage” story, assembled from letters, diaries, and recordings. And James Joyce’s The Dead (1914) is probably my favourite novella. I’m also deeply inspired by Francis Bacon’s paintings, that sense of emotional intensity and distortion. So it’s been a real privilege to have had my time in New York and then come home a different person, now developing stories here with Irish collaborators. Even when I lived in Brooklyn, where I was fortunate to find like-minded creatives such as Larry Fessenden and Ted Geoghegan, who remain two of my dearest friends, I never felt compelled to make work that directly reflected my life in New York. I mean, I'm the guy who decided to make a period horror comedy about grave robbers in the British Isles and shoot it in the Lower East Side and Staten Island.

3. The Anthological Format

With V/H/S (2012) and the audio project Tales from Beyond the Pale (2010– ), you’ve shown a great affinity for short-form storytelling. What is the biggest challenge in terrifying an audience in just a few minutes compared to a feature-length film?

I love the anthology format. Creepshow (1982) had a profound effect on me. Stephen King and George Romero were clearly paying homage to EC Comics, which I was also obsessed with growing up. I was never much of a superhero kid, I wanted to be a werewolf. Anthology segments are actually easier for me to write. I’ve always been drawn to short stories. I’m a huge fan of Charles Beaumont, who can pack the weight of a novel into just a few pages. I don't know if there are many restraints or challenges in terms of affecting an audience in a shorter format. Most of the most terrifying moments in cinema happen in the blink of an eye. Working on Tales from Beyond the Pale (2010– ) has absolutely made me a better writer and director. One of the liberating things about that project is that whatever I write for it will actually be produced. I’m not waiting for outside validation to see if an idea can exist. Of course Larry Fessenden has his standards and isn’t shy about speaking up if something doesn’t fit the tone of the season, but generally we run the show in a way that allows us, and the writers we collaborate with, to pursue ideas that might otherwise never see the light of day.

4. Practical Effects vs. CGI

Your style often evokes the craftsmanship of classic cinema. What is your stance on the use of practical effects today, and how essential are they to maintaining the “soul” of a horror movie?

I will always push for practical effects, but I do think there’s a sweet spot where different crafts can align. With The Restoration at Grayson Manor (2025) we used puppets, props, real hands, and CGI together to realize the killer hands in the film. Of course it’s fun to imagine a production that is one hundred percent practical, but sometimes that simply isn’t practical. My favourite monsters are all practical effects. My love of cinema probably started with artists like Rick Baker, Rob Bottin, Tom Savini, and John Carl Buechler. As a kid, those were my heroes. I would spend hours making scars, masks, and monsters. At the time there didn’t seem to be a path into that world for me, or at least it felt unattainable, so I took a more scenic route into filmmaking. But practical makeup effects have always been my first love. I had a wonderful time working with Brian Spears on I Sell the Dead (2008). My direction to him was often more sculptural than gory. For example, the zombies had a kind of water-logged look, something reminiscent of Shock Waves(1977), but also a bit like toy figures. Working with practical effects artists is always one of the most exciting parts of filmmaking for me. I have enormous admiration for what they do. That’s the movie magic that first set me on this path.

5. Working with Sound

With Tales from Beyond the Pale (2010– ), you’ve helped revive the horror radio drama. How does your writing process change when you can’t rely on visual elements to frighten the audience?

As the project has evolved, Larry and I have both leaned into the traditions of the format while also trying to break its bones a little. During the pandemic I decided to experiment with an audio drama that had no dialogue at all. I wasn’t sure if it had been done before, it had, but it felt like a fascinating challenge for the format. The piece is called Interior, Coffin Night (2020). It features a wonderful performance by Grace Cooper (Grace Sings Sludge), but there are no spoken words and therefore no exposition. Removing that crutch allowed me to push myself and play with the possibilities of the medium in a different way. Audio drama is a wildly interactive form. The listener has to participate, otherwise it simply doesn’t work. In many ways the experience depends on the audience bringing their attention, imagination, and visualization skills to the story. That’s where it really comes alive. So when I write these pieces, I tend to hold the audience to a fairly high standard. I assume they’re willing to come along for the ride and embrace the challenge.

6. Iconic Collaborations

You have frequently worked with actors like Ron Perlman and Dominic Monaghan, as well as mentors like Larry Fessenden. How have these recurring collaborations shaped your vision as a director?

Ron Perlman is someone I hope to work with again. He has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know, and he took a real chance on me when he agreed to do I Sell the Dead (2008). He’s a soulful performer and very old-school in the best sense, he shows up prepared and ready to go. Larry Fessenden is one of my best friends, and he’s stuck with me, so help him. I’m a fairly reserved and private person, so many of my closest friendships have grown out of work. For example, Alice Krige, Chris Colfer are now stuck with me. I’m not letting go.  And I'm currently writing a new script with Declan Reynolds who is an actor I worked with on Grayson Manor, he also happens to be a terrific writer. It's a great privilege to have found some footing in this industry and it's incredible when your paths meet up with like minded folks who have fought hard to stay on the same road. My philosophy is simple: surround yourself with good people. People who give everything they have, and people who recognize and nurture the spark in you. I had some difficult experiences earlier in life, so when I encounter collaborators where there’s an obvious mutual respect, it becomes much easier for me to lower the guard, open the heart a bit, and be vulnerable in the work. That’s where the real creative breakthroughs tend to happen.

7. Horror and Humor

There is often a vein of subtle, “weird” humor in your work. Do you believe horror is more effective when accompanied by a nervous laugh, or would you ever want to tackle something purely nihilistic?

I often joke about wanting to go “full dark, no stars,” because I do enjoy very bleak work. David Cronenberg is probably my favourite filmmaker. But in practice I always seem to gravitate toward horror comedy. I’ve always loved the escapism that horror provides, and there’s something magical about the way horror and comedy naturally complement each other. Young Frankenstein (1974) probably spoiled me early on, but films like Deathtrap (1982) and Clue (1985) also had a big influence on me. There’s something cheeky and welcoming about entering a creepy world with a bit of a giggle. Carry On Screaming!(1966) was another favourite when I was young. I think a lot of that sensibility probably comes from my dad, Charlie McQuaid. We both loved the feeling of being thrilled and amused at the same time, sharing a laugh while something slightly terrifying was happening on screen.

8. Evolution of the Genre

In recent years, we’ve seen the rise of “Elevated Horror.” How do you view your position as a director who instead celebrates the more classic, pulp, and entertaining roots of the genre?

I don’t quite understand the “elevated” label. Are we really suggesting that the genre which gave us Dracula (1931), The Wolf Man (1941), The Innocents (1961), and The Exorcist (1973) somehow needs elevating? For me, horror has always been intelligent and sophisticated. It’s one of the best platforms for social commentary and personal introspection. It’s also historically been very open to new voices, particularly marginalized voices. Some of the most exciting horror right now is coming from women. I’m proud to know and see the work of Jenn Wexler gaining traction, as well as the brilliant Kate Dolan. If you look at Fangoria today, you’ll see a real celebration of diversity within the genre. I do love pulp horror, but even when my work leans into that tradition it still comes from a very personal place. That’s really the only way I know how to make something meaningful. Inspiration from other genre work is wonderful, but if that’s all there is, the result can feel shallow. My most recent film actually began as something of a riff on The Hands of Orlac (1924), but it ultimately became a story about the suffocating heteronormative pressures that are often placed on queer people. So even when the surface feels pulpy, the emotional core is very personal.

9. Personal Inspirations

Which three horror films do you consider fundamental to your development, and which ones do you believe every horror fan should absolutely see?

Fright Night (1985) was hugely formative for me. Tom Holland manages the balance of comedy and horror beautifully. As a young gay kid in need of positive role models, I even picked up on little crumbs of recognition in the characters. Sure, Jerry Dandridge and Billy Cole are vampires, but they were incredibly cool and carried this kind of sexual ambiguity that I found fascinating. Hellraiser (1987) absolutely blew me away. The Cenobites may be the icing on the cake, but the real meat of the story is Frank and the toxic dynamics of that household. It’s almost like a Harold Pinter kitchen-sink drama where all hell breaks loose. I’ve always loved Clive Barker, particularly his early work, which uniquely blends working-class drama with the most fantastical and disturbing horror imagery. And then there’s An American Werewolf in London (1981). Again, that masterful balance of scares and laughs. It terrified me when I first saw it, but it’s also sexy, irreverent, and incredibly charming. That combination of tones has always been something I admire.

10. Future Projects

What are you currently working on? Is there a specific idea or horror subgenre that you haven’t explored yet but would like to bring to the screen in the near future?

I’m currently working on a new season of Tales from Beyond the Pale (2010– ) with Larry Fessenden. At the same time, Declan Reynolds and I are developing a screenplay that feels like a response to the recent resurgence of homophobia and intolerance we’re seeing around the world. It's a wild idea and we're having the best time throwing spanner after spanner at our characters.  I’m also developing a television series here in Ireland that is quite personal to me and leans heavily into my love of classic horror traditions.