Dreaming in Giallo

I've mentioned before that since I've been taking various pills for my blood pressure my dreams have become remarkably vivid and frequently memorable to my waking self.  They seem to have gone through many phases, from 'widescreen' action, through the surreal, to curiously knowing, where my dream self can actually remember and reference, in-dream, previous dreams.  Increasingly, I'm well aware that I'm dreaming, but let it carry on to see where it goes, (my usual cue for realising that it is a dream is the presence of someone I know is dead, or sometimes simply the fact that the whole scene has changed around me, without a logical segue).  Of late, they've taken a cinematic turn, whereby the perspective seems to 'pull out', in order to reveal that the weird stuff that's been going on is actually a film that I'm watching on a TV, or sometimes a film that I'm involved with making.  Into the latter category falls a dream that I had last week in which some kind of video nasty version of an Agatha Christie 'And Then There Was One' style drama was unfolding, with the various characters dying truly bizarre and gory deaths.  then, just as it was coming to a climax, the 'camera' pulled back and instead of being involved in events, I was directing them on a film set.  At which point, I woke up.

Then, just last night, I found myself involved in some kind of bizarre giallo-type drams.  Actually, it didn't start that way, but I don't really recall the earlier part of the dream, only the part where a hunt for some crazy killer ended up at a creepy house in a cemetery (at night, naturally), where he'd stashed loads of his victims.  There were bodies everywhere -their common denominator being that they all had birth marks of some kind.  That, apparently, was how he selected his victims.  Lots of Italian exploitation traits were on display in the dream.  Even that red-haired little girl who seemed to turn up in every other Italian horror film made in the early to mid seventies, (the actress' career went on hiatus when she reached her teens, while she finished her education - she made some film appearances as an adult but left acting to pursue  a career as, I believe, a speech therapist).  Indeed, in the dream it was her murder that led to the house - she was, (as her character was in Baron Blood), possessed of some kind of psychic powers and about to reveal the killer' identity.  While this was going on, I sort of knew that it wasn't real - I noted that the chief pathologist had a head like a skull, but decided not say anything as nobody else was commenting on it - then it suddenly pulled back to reveal that it was a film I was watching on TV.  At which point things went off on a tangent as the dream became about some kind of school reunion I was preparing for which involved me having to wear my old school tie.  (Quite why that tie was so significant in this part of the dream, I don't know, as I went to a state school and it was probably the same design of tie used by scores of other state schools.  I t certainly wouldn't have opened any doors for me!).

I have no idea what any of this means, if anything at all.  Maybe this new development in the way in which my sleeping brain presents my dreams to me is the result of having watched too much schlock of late.  Who knows?  All that I do know is that my medication-fueled dreams, (I'm told that the Statin I take daily is a likely culprit), continue to entertain me hugely in both my sleeping and waking hours.