Neil Jordan's 1984 riff on Little Red Riding Hood was the first movie I "discovered." Until then, my life had been all Hollywood all the time. This was the first off-the-radar flick I took a chance on and it cemented my love for obscure, independent movies. If it wasn't for The Company of Wolves, The Basement wouldn't exist. Sold as a horror movie, The Company of Wolves is actually more a symbolic folklore about werewolves, or rather their sexual connotation. Granny tells her granddaughter Rosaleen strange, disturbing tales about innocent maidens falling in love with handsome, heavily eyebrowed strangers. All the stories are somehow reducible to loss of innocence, and fear of/hunger for a newly acquired sexuality. Sounds pretty deep and heavy right? Boring? Not at all. This movie is as fast paced as any fright flick and equally as entertaining. But it's charged with a sexuality that is hard to explain; yet it takes you in at the same time. The Compan...