Grindhouse
Sep 22 - Nov 30, 2025
Current Holder
Stephen Marks
Midnight Manifesto
Film Reel-Bound Authority on Horror Fairways
Buttered Popcorn Distracts My Judgement
Aspects refreshed Dec 19, 2025
The Midnight Manifesto manifested during the first perfect midnight movie screening when authentic schlock achieved such purity that the very essence of grindhouse cinema crystallized into living doctrine. Born from the collective cheers of drive-in audiences and the mechanical rhythm of film projectors, it became the sacred scripture that would guide all future B-movie experiences.
This supernatural document appears as a leather-bound tome with binding rings crafted from spliced 35mm film reels, its pages glowing with midnight blue ink that writes itself in real-time. The text constantly adapts to reflect the specific horror subgenre of each venue, ensuring every Horror Hall of Fame archetype receives proper guidance for authentic B-movie behavior. The manifesto smells perpetually of buttered popcorn and motor oil, and its pages never tear despite being made from vintage drive-in theater programs.
The Midnight Manifesto serves as the ultimate authority for grindhouse authenticity, appearing at each Horror Hall of Fame venue to ensure players properly embody their chosen horror archetypes while maintaining series-wide consistency. It acts as both judge and guide, rewarding authentic B-movie performances while gently correcting those who stray from proper exploitation cinema traditions.
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Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Stephen Marks's Midnight Manifesto (#76) has been updated based on their recent performance in the series.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Stephen Marks's Midnight Manifesto (#81) has been updated based on their recent performance in the series.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Stephen Marks's Midnight Manifesto (#36) has been updated based on their recent performance in the series.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
glubs sarcastically through corn syrup blood Oh great, now I have to narrate the birth of some mystical movie manual? The Midnight Manifesto spawned when a drive-in projector achieved sentience after screening "Plan 9" for the 10,000th time. It literally wrote itself into existence like some discount Necronomicon, complete with popcorn butter stains and terrible life advice for B-movie archetypes. Because apparently we needed written instructions for how to be dramatically incompetent? What's next, a user manual for screaming at jump scares?
dramatically rolls eyes while adjusting vintage horror film reel So the Midnight Manifesto needed its first victim—I mean, "chosen director." Stephen Marks wandered into frame with his 795 rating like some unsuspecting protagonist who actually reads the ominous book instead of running away. The cursed screenplay practically leap-frogged into his bag, probably attracted to his PDGA number 257564's mathematical horror potential. Because nothing says "B-movie material" like decent fundamentals, am I right? Will he direct this disaster or become another casualty of cinematic cheese?