Larry Cohen says a recurring theme in his movies is taking something that people hold dear or sacred and turning it around so it becomes a force of evil and destruction. It was true, for example, of his first big hit, It's Alive (1974), in which a couple's newborn baby is a homicidal monster and of God Told Me To (1976), where New Yorkers commit random murders and explain their actions by saying, ''God told me to'' - their actions being guided by a mysterious supernatural being.
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And the theme certainly applies to the three Cohen films in the Canberra International Film Festival.
Q, The Winged Serpent (1982: screens outdoors at the National Film and Sound Archive on November 3 at 8.15pm) also tackles the subject of religion.
''The monster is a god, an Aztec god,'' Cohen says - and it goes on a murderous rampage in New York City. Cohen says that for him, ''The characters and the story are more important than the monster'' and refers to his films as ''thrillers'' rather than horror movies: he's not a fan of slasher movies or torture porn in which bloody violence predominates. Q marked the start of his collaboration with actor Michael Moriarty on several films.
''I met him in a restaurant in New York. I admired his work and told him so and told him I had a movie. I sent him the script the next day and he called and agreed to do it.''
The two hit it off.
''I let him wail. He's a jazz actor, I let him go on on riffs. I call it jazz acting, and I'm a jazz director.''
Although he likes to have control over the movies he writes and directs, Cohen is open to collaboration on the set.
''We make stuff up, have fun with it … We have a good time.''
Cohen wrote and co-produced but did not direct Maniac Cop (1988), in which a city is terrorised when innocent people are being murdered by a mysterious man in a police uniform. A policeman (played by Bruce Campbell, whose Evil Dead director, Sam Raimi, has a bit part here as a parade announcer) is suspected when his wife is one of the victims.
''I was trying to take something symbolic of law and order, a police officer, and turn him into a monster,'' Cohen says.
It was directed by Cohen's friend William Lustig.
''He was hoping to make another movie and I made up an idea at lunch and told him,'' Cohen says. ''He did an OK job. I wouldn't say I was delighted with it.''
But, understanding the delicate nature of the producer-director relationship and mindful of his own hatred of interference, Cohen didn't intrude.
''I kept away from the set. He would feel threatened if I showed up … I didn't want to undermine him.''
There were two sequels. Cohen says of the series: ''The first two were good, the last one was terrible: the producers came in and took over the project and rewrote my script.''
That's one of the reasons Cohen prefers to direct his own movies and make them on low budgets (he says none of his films has cost more than $4 million): it's the price he pays for more independence.
Star Laurene Landon will be present for a Q&A after the screening.
Moriarty and Cohen teamed up again for The Stuff (1985: screens at Arc Cinema, National Film and Sound Archive on November 2 at 8.15pm) with the actor playing an industrial espionage agent hired by ice-cream companies to investigate a mysterious dessert called The Stuff. Once again Cohen took something with positive associations - ice-cream - and made it a force of destruction. The film is a blend of satire, broad comedy and spookiness.
''People seemed to like it … it got excellent reviews in America,'' Cohen says.
Apart from advertising, food regulators and the fast-food industry, Cohen says he was also targeting medications that are heavily advertised in the US.
''The side-effects are worse than the diseases they are treating … why would anybody want to take this kind of stuff?''
