Mondo Heather

Dignity is Not For Sale: In Praise of BASTARD ART

2012-01-29T20:12:00.000-08:00

I'm not entirely sure when Sex Gang Children and their charismatic leader, Andi Sex Gang, first came into my life but ever since, the magic and texture behind this man has entranced me. Often sounding like the exotic love child of Bowie and Brecht, but firmly remaining to this day his own man and artist, Andi Sex Gang is undoubtedly one of the most underrated figures in music. All of that despite his band charting repeatedly on the UK indie lists in the 80's and then going on to work with the legendary Mick Ronson. (The latter must have felt invigorated to work with someone truly unique,vital and not expecting him to rehash the Diamond Dogs blues.)

The journey of any artist with bone-bred integrity and an unwillingness to whore is going to be a rocky one and Andi is no exception. Luckily for us all, his life and musical journey has been covered in one hale and hearty documentary, BASTARD ART. Before getting to watch this film, I was just excited to know that someone took the time and energy to cover the man. After watching this film, I was excited to know that a guy like Andi Sex Gang is featured in a well made, lovingly researched and incredibly accessible documentary. It's the perfect mix of being thorough and surprising enough to woo the hardcore fans but pieced together in such a way that it will lure anyone unfamiliar with Sex Gang Children.

In BASTARD ART, we get to see Andi go from a little boy with a natural instinct for song writing and singing to a squatter in the punk scene. In fact, it was his friend from that same scene, George O'Dowd aka Boy George, that gifted the band name, Sex Gang Children, to him. (A name undoubtedly with origins from music savant Malcolm McClaren, who had worked with a pre-Culture Club George.) From there, we get interviews with former band mates, friends and musical peers. But most importantly, we get and receive a bounty of interview footage from the man himself, Andi Sex Gang.

He is the star of the show, not just because he is the subject matter, but because his natural charisma, smarts and sheer will of survival draws you to him. There are performers that are good artists but have rocks for personality but that is far from the case with Andi Sex Gang. The amount of bowling balls this man has had to jump, ranging from bad music deals, facing fake criminal charges that ranged from rape to carrying explosives and an industry that acts more like the ravenous center in the lake of ice in Dante's Inferno, is harrowing. Weaker souls have been eaten by that very machine, but weak is not a word associated with ASG. Scrappy and tenacious, absolutely, but not weak.

Director Vince Corkadel, who has worked previously with both Andi and Sex Gang Children, has a lot to be proud of here. The key to any truly great music related documentary is having the music paint the right picture over the canvas of information. For me, there are few things more frustrating than a documentary about a musician that features little to none of their music. It would be like watching a bunch of people talking about a painter and never showing even a scrap of one of their paintings. Beyond frustrating, but BASTARD ART is a film that thankfully does not suffer that fate.

As far as pacing goes, it's tight and flows very well. There are zero lulls and it does exactly what this type of film should do; leaving you wanting more and wanting to devour more of the great art featured. Safe to say, BASTARD ART is one of the best documentaries to have come out in the last few years. What's inspiring about this is that guys like Corkadel and Larry Wessel (ICONOCLAST, featured here) have proven that one can make a vital and culturally rich documentary while sticking to a true independent, DIY approach. This is no Miramax or Sundance indie, which is safe in its bigger budgets and often homogenized layers. Instead this is a film born out of pure love, determination and years of hard work and research.

No matter what labels people will throw on the works of Sex Gang Children and Andi, none can ultimately stick, proving not only the folly of “genres” but also the folly of trying to box in an artist you love. A guy like Andi Sex Gang, who continues to be as prolific and active as ever, will set fire to that box, and like a pale faced shaman with a mind of darkness and heart of light, will continue this fight of life. And nowhere is this ever more present than in BASTARD ART.

www.bastardartfilm.com

Back from the Ether & Ready For the Beach!

2012-01-29T14:38:00.000-08:00

Greetings and salutations, my beloved and neglected readers and fellow fringe culture enthusiasts!

It's been much too long since the last post, but never fear, there are some big articles and little indulgences, all itching to be cooked and served. This includes more film and music articles, interviews and other random sundries.

To keep you a little sated until then, here's the trailer for the wonderfully goony BIKINI BEACH. Ever notice how much these films bordered on sun-drenched DaDa? While BEACH BLANKET BINGO is the masterpiece of this subgenre, BIKINI BEACH is a lot of fun, featuring tall drink of water Jody McCrea as Deadhead, Stevie Wonder, a surfing gorilla, Frankie Avalon in frightening limey drag as "The Potato Bug" and the first appearance of the ultimate Mondo Heather heart throb Timothy Carey as South Dakota Slim. It looks like a winner because it IS a winner!

Surf's Up!

Happy Halloween! Music Video Round-up Madness

2011-10-30T23:59:00.000-07:00

In celebration of the greatest holiday ever, Mondo Heather is pleased to present you with some of the scariest, silliest and creepiest music videos that I could come up with in 10 minutes. Halloween is my Christmas, minus the awkward family gatherings and plus lots of pumpkins, plastic skeletons and monster masks. Granted the latter two have a semi-permanent place in my life, but I digress.

Anyways, if you love all things ooky, spooky and sonic, then read on! If you dare.....

Starting things off is Landscape's "My Name is Norman Bates." A quirky and unique UK band that became best known for their hit, "Einstein a Go-Go," Landscape contributed a nice tribute to Alfred Hitchcock's masterpiece, PSYCHO, and its main character. The video itself features some lovely B&W visuals, a scary castle and an actress that is a dead ringer for Janet Leigh. This would make an awesome double bill with The Hitmen's "Bates Motel." (A fantastic song and one of the best music videos ever. Too bad that the version on Youtube is complete crap quality, including the color being muted out. Hence why it is not on this list. otherwise it would be top dog here.)

Up next is one of my personal heroes, Thor aka Jon Mikl Thor, the Canadian Heavy Metal Thunder God. Not only has the man been involved in some wonderfully cheesy horror movies, including the b-movie epic ROCK & ROLL NIGHTMARE, but he is Thor. Screw Hollywood, accept the one true deity only! This video is not really scary but it does feature some sword & sorcery imagery and the song kicks ass. Plus Thor attacks a fortune teller??? Awesome.

In a darker vein, there's Patrick Cowley's "They Came at Night." Cowley was an electronic-pop wunderkind who helped breathe in new life for drag legend and vocal angel Sylvester's career. Cowley was also an early casualty of AIDS, something that is reflected in this song. This piece of music is already eerie, but when you factor in that this is about a man dealing with death being at his door, it is even more haunting. It is a testament to Cowley's talent that even in such a state, he was able to create such good music. (And yes, I do realize that this is not a music video proper, but given that this is one that tends to get left off a lot of lists like this, I had to mention it.)

Speaking of real life, after that we have Falco's "Jeanny." While most Americans probably remember Falco for such danceable pop songs like "Rock Me Amadeus" and "Der Kommissar," the man also created one amazing and disturbing song in the form of "Jeanny." Inspired by the very real crimes of Austrian serial killer Jack Unterweger, this is definitely dark musical territory, especially for a pop artist. For more info on this song and its history, you can check out an article I wrote back in 2010.

In a more surreal vein, there is Icehouse's "Icehouse." The band formerly known as Flowers were part of the Australian New Wave scene, they created such pop classics as "We Can Get Together," "Can't Help Myself" and "Great Southern Land." In an odd move, they also made this song, which has a sort of cold yet sad starkness about it. Add in director's Russell Mulcahy's surrealistic and subtly nightmarish visuals and you have a recipe for a perfect for a cold, Autumn night video. Plus, this was apparently at one point banned on Australian TV! Have a day.

Speaking of music videos that were banned, up next we have Blue Oyster Cult's "Joan Crawford." Yes, this creepy gem was banned, not on Australian TV (that I know of) but on MTV. Despite some revisionist nostalgia, MTV was never really as cool as some people will try to tell you, kids. Blue Oyster Cult need no introduction, being one of the greatest rock bands ever. Plus, never has the whole schoolgirl/rock video theme been more suitably disturbing.

Now on a lighter note, there is the master of all things horror and rock, Alice Cooper. I adore Alice Cooper and realistically, about 3/4 of his catalog could comprise a list of this nature. But instead, to keep things interesting, here is "Identity Crisis," an obscure tune from Claudio Fragasso's 1980's horror film, MONSTER DOG.

You cannot have a Halloween themed music list without featuring Australia's own Skyhooks and their song, "Horror Movies." I first heard of this band via Elvira's compilation, "Haunted Hits," which led me to their other work, including the kickass rocker, "Women in Uniform." (Which went on to be covered by Iron Maiden by the way.) "Horror Movies," while not their best song, does feature the catchy hooks and tongue-in-cheek humor that helped define this band.

From campy back to moody, we have Marilyn Martin's "Night Moves," a song that would have been perfect for the soundtrack of a horror themed show, like "The Hitchhiker" or the massively underrated "Forever Knight." The latter would be especially fitting, given the obvious influence the music video has from the vampire 80's classic, THE HUNGER. It's a good, moody pop song and a far better thing to associate with the lovely Ms. Martin, than her more famed duet with angry-Gerber baby man himself, Phil Collins.

If you want dark eroticism, then look no further than France's Mylene Farmer. This artist has amassed a brilliant body of work, often tackling some rather shadowy themes and layers that most singers shy away from. She was another one, like Alice, that proved to be harder to pick just one video, but I ended up settling on "Beyond My Control." The wolf and blood imagery and repeated loop of John Malkovich from DANGEROUS LIASONS uttering the song's title is beyond perfect. I love Mylene Farmer.

Speaking of musical genius, after that we have Nash the Slash. The one man band who first made his name playing for Canadian progressive rock band, FM, has built an extremely striking body of work, whether it is working a John Hinckley reference in his cover of "Psychotic Reaction" or composing a lovely score for F.W. Murnau's NOSFERATU. Every heart should make room for some love for this man and "Swing Shift" is a big reason why. The video is properly low budget and is as uncomfortable and riveting as the song itself.

One of the greatest bands to have emerged from the shadows of the UK music scene in the late 1970's is undoubtedly, Bauhaus. A band whose music still sounds as fresh and unlike anything else to this day, despite inspiring a slew of musicians, their song and video for the track "Mask" is one of the best examples of the beauty of nightmares and decay.

The next video might seem initially like an odd choice, unless you too have seen the William Friedkin (THE EXORCIST, TO LIVE & DIE IN LA) directed video. Laura Branigan's "Self Control," a cover of the Italo-Disco hit by Raf, is a perfect, adult pop song. Branigan does not get enough love nowadays for my money and this song/video are evidence why she was truly a star in the way that most pop singers nowadays wished they could be. (The fact that she actually had a great voice without the aid of Protools helps. A lot.) The video itself plays out like some kind of wonderfully lurid, pyscho-sexual Italian Giallo. All that is missing is a black gloved killer but given that there is an uncut cut floating around somewhere, you never know. Until then, we have this still racy version to enjoy.

Now is the time for some spooky garage rock revival, New York style, with The Fuzztones and their creepy epic, "Ward 81." The Fuzztones are, simply put, awesome and this song should make a convert of anyone that likes their rock and roll a little rough around the edges with some organs to boot. What's even more of a treat is how good this video is, looking like a B-Movie style horror film from the late 60's. (Special thanks goes out to Scott Law for introducing me to this one years ago.)

Speaking of retro with a modern twist, after that we have Australia's Beasts of Bourbon and their faithfully, skin crawlingly scary cover of the Leon Payne classic, "Psycho." The video is just as good, with some murky looking proceedings going on in the distance behind singer Tex Perkins anguished facade. (If your not familiar with this band, look up more of their stuff on Youtube. They are phenomenal.)

Rounding things up is Vinnie Vincent Invasion's "Love Kills," which was the main song from NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 4: THE DREAM MASTER. Granted, this is not one of their better songs but still deserves to be featured for two very good reasons. First of all, it is Vinnie Vincent, who is a guitar god and by far, the most underrated member of Kiss ever. Secondly, it's Vinnie Vincent playing guitar with the Freddy Krueger glove and then winking and smiling at the camera. It's awesome, adorable and worth sitting through the overall average video alone.

I hope you've enjoyed my mighty list of spooky musical video goodness and even more, that you have a wonderful holiday season! May your treats be plenty, your tricks few and all of your masks be Don Post.

Copyright 2011 Heather Drain

Gilded Melancholy: Radley Metzger's CAMILLE 2000

2011-09-25T11:11:00.000-07:00

Perfection and warmth are two elements that are not always put together hand in hand. Warmth is often emotion, that wonderful, horrible, messy thing that sets species apart from rocks and sociopaths. On the other hand, you have perfection, which is most definitely not anything related to humanity. Perfection is often perceived as beauty without heart, but there are some key exceptions to this rule, most notably Radley Metzger's updated version of Alexandre Dumas's classic novel, The Lady of the Camellias. Metzger's film, CAMILLE 2000, is both sumptuous to look at but also, at heart, incredibly melancholy. (Which would be in keeping in spirit with the source material.)

The lovely Daniele Gaubert

The story begins with Armand (Nino Castelnuovo), a handsome and somewhat unambitious young lad who is being sent to Italy to attend to some business for his rich and powerful father (Massimo Serato). He meets up with Gastion (Roberto Bisacco), a dandy about town who takes Armand to a gala. While he points out the various available women and their assorted scandals, Armand ends up seeing the beautiful and fragile Marguerite (Daniele Gaubert). Gastion tries to dissuade him, deeming Margeurite “impossible,” but the match has been lit and both ends are burning.

A lot of heartbreak emerges from this pursuit of amour. Right from the start, both Armand and Marguerite are doomed for a myriad of reasons, whether it is her financial debt and borderline kept lady status with a wealthy but mal-emotional Duke or Armand's money conscious father. Mme. Fatale radiates off of Marguerite. Like all truly damaged and self destructive people, it is only a matter of time that the shrapnel will be felt by those closest to her, especially Armand.

Gaubert & Nina Castelnuovo

Metzger, a bred New Yorker born with the aesthetic soul of a European, has become renowned for his attention to visuals and deft use of erotic themes. While some of his later work definitely fits that bill, the sexuality that lies within CAMILLE 2000 is less erotic and more reflective of the emotional mental state of the characters. Some of the scenes are bold for their time but in typical Metzger fashion, are tasteful not matter how outre they may border on. In fact, Metzger's whole soft-toned, high fashion sexuality pre-dated filmmakers like Just Jaeckin (EMMANUELLE, THE STORY OF O) and David Hamilton (BILITIS) by a number of years. (Oddly enough, both Jaeckin and Hamilton are European and come from a fashion photography background.) This is definitely the case of a film that may have been marketed in some areas as arty sexploitation (complete with then X rating) but that would have been more at home in your friendly neighborhood arthouse. (Though don't think the twain never met with those two either.)

Speaking of visuals, the attention to detail in CAMILLE 2000 is gorgeous. This film is David Lean lush. From the 60's futuristic plastic furniture and light up cubes to the rococo color schemes of the Italian coastal landscape and the natural beauty of the actors themselves, CAMILLE 2000 is eye candy in motion.

Luckily for us, there is more than meets the eye, with strong performances from both Gaubert and Castelnuovo as the lovers who suffer due to bad family and even worse habits. Gaubert is alternately lovely, ethereal and sad in a role that had been previously played by such early screen legends as Greta Garbo and Alla Nazimova. Castelnuovo is a good match with his earnest, handsome Armand, who transforms from a borderline shy young man to a heartbroken firebrand within the 131 minute running time. The other actors are good, with Zachary Adams being a real standout as Gody, a sweet gay fashion designer who is one of the few humane people in Marguerite's life, even despite her occasionally stank behavior.

Zachary Adams as the good intentioned Gody

This film's beauty is equally matched by Cult Epics' loving release. It is sweet to see a filmmaker of Metzger's caliber getting his proper due thanks to the hard work of companies like Cult Epics and Distribpix (for the cherried out release of THE PRIVATE AFTERNOONS OF PAMELA MANN.) CAMILLE 2000 has never looked better. In addition to this fine transfer, there are also a slew of extras, including a 30 minute featurette, “On the Set,” that has behind-the-scenes footage along with some fascinating and revealing commentary throughout courtesy of the man himself, Radley Metzger. On top of that, there is also an equally good feature commentary with Metzger and moderator Michael Bowen, striptease footage that had been excised before the film's initial release, a featurette on the restoration process complete with before and after shots and trailers for CAMILLE 2000, the even more lush looking THE LICKERISH QUARTET and SCORE.

CAMILLE 2000 is an interesting cinematic creature. It's art, it's sexy, it's sad and leaves its lonely and beautiful mark on you once you have witnessed it. Bless Radley Metzger and his European creative heart, film making ways.

La ronde

© Heather Drain 2011

Tall Dark Stranger from Tikisville---Welcome to Larry Wessel's ICONOCLAST!

2011-08-10T21:05:00.000-07:00

In the world of art, archetypes are born, bred and manufactured. Sometimes by the fans, other times by assorted figures in the press and, more often than not, by the artists themselves. In the strata of fringe art, Boyd Rice is one of the most enigmatic, at times charismatic and perplexing figures. The man has been called a lot things over his 30 plus year career, with epithets ranging from genius to neo-Nazi to charlatan and innovator, Rice is unique in the way he has handled each and every one of them, embracing the dark and the light, both to art and his own persona.

In fact, it is these light and dark aspects of Rice that are examined in Larry Wessel's 4 hour long opus, ICONOCLAST. While the running time alone will probably make a less curious and intrepid viewer run to the hills, the film actually has an incredibly smooth pace, to the extent that you never really feel the running time. I once had some drug addled academic type tell me that if a documentary was longer than an hour, then it would lose the audience. This theory is obviously swamped in bullshit for a multitude of reasons and ICONOCLAST is a great example why. (Plus, epic length never hurt Ken Burns, eh?) Wessel manages to give a comprehensive overview of Rice's childhood, groundbreaking work in experimental noise music, his relationship with Church of Satan founder Anton LaVey, his move from San Francisco to Denver, etc etc. and yet leaves you asking for more. More information to be specific, which is both a testament to Wessel's skills as a filmmaker and the compellingness of Boyd Rice. In some facets of life, there are no villains or heroes, just artists. Welcome to ICONOCLAST.

The film is divvied up into three sections for each disc. Section one, Lemon Grove, goes into Boyd's childhood and Southern Gothic familial background, including his grandmother being born in a cemetery on Halloween night. His upbringing in Lemon Grove, California brought the epiphany of Rice not wanting to be like the status quo. Wonder white bread sandwiches and soul-killing 9 to 5pm jobs were a no go for he who was like no other.

It was this impulse that planted the multiple seeds that would germinate into a long career as a musical concrete pioneer, professional prankster, fringe culture writer, tiki-revivalist and cultural agent provocateur. Boyd himself has stated that he has made a career out of doing a number of things that he is not qualified to do. This is only a half-truth. If he was plagued with mediocrity, then this article or documentary would not exist, especially in regards to his music. His first musical project, NON, still sounds as fresh and unique now as it did in the 70's. Disc One goes into excellent detail about this period of Rice's life and his captivating, surrealist yet pragmatic approach to sonic art. This in turn makes Section One the best out of all three.

That said, the latter two are nothing to sneeze at. The second section, “San Francisco,” delves into Rice's writing, featuring his collaboration with writer extraordinaire Jim Morton for the groundbreaking cult film tome, Re/Search's Incredibly Strange Film book. (A work that I bought on my 16^th birthday, changing my life and alerting me that my tribe was out there.) It's quite nice getting to see interviews with Morton, who undoubtedly warrants his own film or at least a juicy article on his notable work.

Oddly enough, the sweetest parts in the whole documentary are in this section, going into Rice's long term friendship with Church of Satan founder and carnival organist, Anton LaVey. The fondness and bond that these two controversial and fascinating figures had is readily apparent. Given all of the ridiculous hoopla, with media vermin being partially to blame, that has surrounded LaVey to this day, it is refreshing to see him painted as a man, complete with talent, flaws and a family. (Remember, kids, the only real bogeyman is your own human nature.)

The last section, “Denver,” covers Rice's transition from Tiki culture fan (starting from his early teens) to flat out scholar and his involvement with the sinisterly groovy Partridge Family Temple. There's also some keen footage from Rice and company's favorite hangout, the phantasmagorical Casa Bonita. (The now defunct Tulsa location was a mecca of my own childhood, with memories of the sopapillas and the robotic gypsy fortune teller in the game room entrance, still vivid.) All of this leads up to Rice's seemingly calm-after-the-storm life that he entertains today.

The Casa Bonita in Denver, which is way fancier than the one in Tulsa.

ICONOCLAST is solid proof of a my own personal theory that if you combine a captivating and layered subject matter with a talented crew, then it can be however long it needs to be. Otherwise you get the coitus interruptus effect that plagues many a documentary. Just when the going gets good, they pull back, leaving you almost irritated at the in-completion of it all. That is not a problem here. In fact, the only thing that could have been delved into a little more was Rice's musical partnership with Partridge Family Temple member, model and super go-go girl Giddle Partridge. We do at least get to hear two of their songs throughout, but no real commentary on it. Given that the the partnership has apparently come to an end already, there might be reasons for that. (There is at least some brief but cute interview footage with Giddle and lots of lovely promo photos of her and Boyd.)

The interesting thing about this film and Rice as a whole, is that even after four hours, one is not left feeling like they really know that much more about the artist as a man than they probably did going into it. You do get a more fleshed out picture of Boyd Rice the figure and artist, but the actual man? Not so much and in a way, that is totally okay. Honestly, it is sometimes better to not know so much personal information about your favorite artists. The Santa Claus is dead effect is a hazardous one, often blurring the ability for the viewer to separate the art from the artist. Roman Polanski is a predator, your favorite 30's era glamor gal was an escort and Pablo Picasso more than likely was an asshole. (No matter what the Modern Lovers tell you.) Wessel deserves multiple kudos for the stellar and creative work that he has done.

Overall, ICONCLAST is a fascinating, rhythmically paced documentary that is perfect for fans and philistines alike.

A Fragment in Charcoal & Smoke: Flame Schon's DOPE

2011-06-13T23:51:00.000-07:00

When you hear the phrase, “swinging 60's,” more than likely there are very specific images that come to your mind's eye: mini-skirts, rock music, free love and pop art, but time cannot and should not always be measured with such obvious landmarks. Capturing the many shades of a sliver of time is never as easy as it seems, especially when it comes to such a flux-filled decade as the 1960s. There's a lot of darkness in the day-glo, something that is beautifully evident in Flame Schon's (nee Diane Rochlin) and Sheldon Rochlin's rare 1968 documentary, DOPE.

Before I delve into this, immediately push out any preconceived notions you have about what a documentary is supposed to look and sound like. DOPE is a film that uses experimental film making techniques to paint a true picture of both its subject, an kohl-lined gamine from New Zealand named Caroline Thomson and the dirty thumbprint of an era. A friend of such artists as the stunningVali Meyers, Caroline was residing in the heart of late 60's London when DOPE was shot. On the surface, this film documents the journey of this young child-woman and her growing love affair with heroin. While we definitely do get a peek into her habit and the fragments of her everyday life, DOPE is much more than that.

Caroline.

For starters, there is the disjointed audio, with bits and pieces of rock music weaved into the regular soundtrack of sonic noise and words, creating the effect akin to trying to talk to someone at one loud and intense party. With any other film, this would be highly annoying but here it lends itself to giving a more accurate feel of what life was like for Caroline and her friends. Some will get annoyed by this and feel like they could be missing an integral piece of information or emotional character insight. That's probably true, but keep in mind that one's whole life and history can be built upon half-heard conversations and words that are instantly up to re-interpretation once they are out of the mouth. This technique is honest to Caroline's experience. Sure it won't work for every documentary. Just imagining anything by Ken Burns as brought to you in mumblecore vision is maddening, but here it works fine.

The gloriously unique, Vali Meyers.

Also, there's a whole underlying tone about the growing national fear and awareness of drug use, whether it is assorted newspaper headlines involving drug busts or Caroline and her roommates watching a television special entitled “An American View on LSD.” In addition to the audio, there are some very colorful editing choices, including some really good superimposition and an overall kinetic visual rhythm that lends a fragmented, almost dreamlike feel to the proceedings. (Even when the dream has burned edges all around it, which is perfect for a film whose subject matter involves heroin.)

Throughout the film, we see Caroline go to rock concerts, art shows, trying to hustle a coin collection for money, shoot up and then sort of toy around with the needle like a kitten. One of the final shots shows her dancing to “In the Midnight Hour,” leaving the film on a strange and sad note. The image of Caroline, now looking almost ghostlike, dancing in front of a dingy mirror, as if the midnight hour in question is referring to her uncertain, death-tinged future is one the most effective in the whole film.

In the midnight hour.

Music, being one of the biggest heartbeats of the youth culture scene in the 1960's, is a strong underlying thread. The use of it at times is almost accidental, whether it is Caroline and her friends fiddling with the radio, resulting in a cut-up version of the Beatles' “Paperback Writer” or early on, where we can hear her sing, off-camera, along to the Alan Price version of “I Put a Spell on You.” The latter's breathy and real person tunelessness lends the film more authenticity than any of the multiple shots of people shooting up.

DOPE is a fascinating peek into a harsher side of a scene that is typically portrayed as all dandyfied rock stars, Mary Quandt skirts and Mars bars. While it lags a little towards the end, it is, as a whole, a colorful and honest time capsule of both Caroline's life and the pop culture of London during that time period. Speaking of which, there are some brief shots of such artists as Marianne Faithful and Pink Floyd featuring Syd Barrett, so it pays to keep your eyes open.

The likelihood of DOPE getting an official DVD release is pretty much slim to none, but thanks to director Flame Schon, you can get a copy for the price of manufacturing and shipping. For more information, check out her website; http://www.dopethemovie.net/

I Love You, Rip Torn: A Tribute to the MAIDSTONE Brawl

2011-05-16T18:12:00.000-07:00

Lately, a change has come over me. Strange urges, like taking red construction paper and some glitter glue and making little kindergarten type heart shaped cards for my newest love. Oh sure, call me silly. I'll accept that. Even call me a deranged romantic. Fair enough. But I cannot help it, because ever since seeing the “Improv gone wrong” footage from the 1969 film, MAIDSTONE, involving Rip Torn both physically and verbally owning Norman Mailer, I am officially in love with Rip Torn.

Now, I've always liked Mr. Torn. He's a fine actor, aptly handling everything from sci-fi/art films like Nicolas Roeg's THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH to comedy in the MEN IN BLACK franchise. (My introduction to him as a little kid was his awesome turn as Scully in the John Candy film, SUMMER RENTAL. I was instantly fond of the crusty, borderline insane pirate/restauranteur.) But it was when my eyes gazed upon the infamous clip from MAIDSTONE that cartoon hearts and cotton candy clouds started to float over my head. And I'm being serious as a heart attack.

Here you have a young Torn, bedecked in a well fitted green t-shirt, his uniquely handsome face looking both saddened and electric. There is something obviously cooking in that brilliant head. Meanwhile, the Mailer brood frolic in an idyllic countryside, complete with an old, teal windmill and half naked hippie-esque children. Even their momma, former model Beverley Bentley, looks like an appropriately lovely Earth-momma. This is all too nice and we need a dark cloud, a berserker of a storm.

Luckily for us, we do not have to wait too long as we soon see Rip pull out Chekov's gun in the form of a hammer, which he soon enough uses to hit Mailer on the head. Awesome, right? It gets even better. Rip starts talking about he must kill “Kingsley,” the Mailer director character in MAIDSTONE but he doesn't want to kill Norman. (Though I'm sure there were plenty of people, including some of his exes who did.) Mailer responds by biting a piece of Rip's ear off, which is a punk move suited only for the criminally insane and insecure macho male writers. Does this deter Rip? Hell no, because Rip is a real man and basically pounces on him, forcing the part-Yeti director to the ground, pinning him down with his mega-strength.

Mailer mumbles some kind of wounded animal phrase, in which Rip responds, “No, baby. You trust me?” with all the cool and suaveness of a beatnik Don Juan. Being a true gentleman, Rip is about to concede but wussy-boy Mailer takes the opportunity to strike when he thinks Rip's guard is down. Wrong! Rip keeps that man down, only to be intercepted by the Norman Mailer Partridge Family Army. Mamma Partridge immediately starts shrieking. Some would say it is from the fear of seeing her husband pinned to the ground with a bloody head wound. I would say it was from the subconscious realization that she married less than a man and that the REAL man whooped his ass. Truth hurts, babies.

When I say that she starts screaming, I am not exaggerating. You would think that Rip was chainsawing Mailer in half. Even worse, while her kids were a little upset at first, they start flipping out big time once momma bear starts freaking. Mailer acts like your typical sort of college educated mook, threatening to cold cock Rip and more, while Torn is clearly hurt and trying to communicate something verbally to someone who cannot and will not listen. There has been some kind of artistic violation that had lead up to this brutal (and brutally awesome) act. This is all the more evident with words like “betrayal,” “fraud,” “sham” and “trust” repeatedly come up throughout the whole clip.

The two eventually walk off, after Beverly, understandably freaked out, threatens to kill Rip if he does anything else. Torn makes attempts to communicate the reasons why he did what he did and talk about the film as a whole. Mailer is having none of this, just opening himself to being run over some more by the genius that is Rip Torn.

Exhibit A, when Mailer starts to insult Torn's “ugliness” in the picture, Rip instantly cuts him off with a grin, retorting “Woah wait a minute, I was trying to look like you.” Awesome. It gets even better with the “cocksucker” exchange and then off screen one of the Mailer-urchins audibly says, “don't fight any more.” It is Rip, not Mailer, who responds to the kid, saying “That's right baby, no fighting. It was just a scene, in a Hollywood whorehouse movie. Okay baby? You know it's okay and your Dad knows it's okay.” Then he whispers under his breath, looking right at Norman and smiling almost maniacally, “Up yours.” What's the best Mailer can come up with? “Adios.” Smooooth. The truly beautiful thing is that in one fell swoop, Torn not only comforts the kid but also throws in an insult, audible only to Mailer and the camera, with his wild eyed smile returning in full effect.

Mailer soon tells him to basically kiss off, in which Torn replies, smile resplendent, “I leave the kissing....to you.” Mister original-pants Norman then says, “Yeah, and I leave the shit eating to you.” This prompts Rip to give one of the best come backs ever in the form of, “No, no more. That's your specialty..You're the champ. I salute the champ of shit.” Mailer than tells the cameraman that “you might as well turn off this tape cause he is a very dull talker” to which Torn replies by pointing at Norman and going “Oooh oooh!” Thus ending one of the most amazing, startling and riveting clips ever. Hearing about creative collaborators coming to blows is not uncommon at all but to have such an occasion open up like one bloody, dysfunctional flower on tape, is nothing short of an historical feat.

This clip hits hard in some bizarre form of creative catharsis for any artist who has felt like they have been bent over a barrel, whether it is by the nature of the business, their own demons or the now-frayed trust of a collaborator. You expect hurt from a stranger but never from an ally. Rip is the heart of this and it is this raw passion that makes him, to this day, such a great force as an artist. One can never give enough appreciation and love to this talented man.

MAIDSTONE is still a hard film to come by, which is something that will hopefully change soon for those of us in the States that love fringe cinema. It would be a neat coup to have Mailer's three underground features, BEYOND THE LAW, WILD 90 and MAIDSTONE all in one set. Mailer was a flawed but notable artist and few and far between noted authors ever dipped their toes into the wonderfully murky waters of underground cinema.

As for Torn, it is the hope that a project truly worthy of his presence and ability will come along, because he deserves it and he is bigger and badder than all of Hollywood.

2011 © Heather Drain

Special Thanks to C.F. Roberts for his encouragement of my own creative dementia and Cat Fury for her artistic help.

Wanderlust and Watchdogs

2011-03-24T21:20:00.000-07:00

Ahoy sweet, sweet readers! Hope all of you are enjoying the Ides of March. There is something about the onset of Spring that makes me beyond yearn for a good sized road trip. Seeing different states emerge from Winter and figuring out if every single Waffle House this side of the South has a jukebox playing a song about Bert's Chili....ah the romance of the road!

Since, my present conditions are not terribly travel friendly, here's my ever growing and changing list of music to road trip to. Hey, sometimes living vicariously through art is better than not living at all. Starting with...

Anything and everything by The Gun Club & Jeffrey Lee Pierce. Seriously. This music is part of my DNA.

Speaking of incredible bands that have featured the awesome guitar hand of Kid Congo Powers, you must have The Cramps in your vehicle at all times.

Wall of Voodoo, both the Stan Ridgway & Andy Prieboy eras.

Marc Moreland was a true guitar legend.

The Tornados with the ultimate travel song, "Telestar."

If you're in dire need of some fabulous print reading and have great taste in cinema, then do yourself a favor and pick up the latest issue of Video Watchdog! Issue #161 features a sweet tribute to the late Jean Rollin, a thorough and thoroughly entertaining interview with Mimsy Farmer and my review of the Lydia Lunch film KISS NAPOLEON GOODBYE. What more can you want?

Passion, Pleasure & Pain: In Praise of Gitane Demone's “Life After Death”

2011-02-13T19:47:00.000-08:00

Passion and fluidity are two key ingredients for any great artist but are often the hardest to possess. Passion is vital for anything truly good since otherwise it's like faking an orgasm. You can give the best moan and grind all you want, but it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing. Even more than that, you need fluidity to keep things interesting. Talent helps out a lot, too. When I think of all these factors, singer, musician and artist Gitane Demone comes immediately to mind.

I first became familiar with her work when a friend of mine lent me a compilation that had her single, “Incendiary Lover”, on it. The angel-sweet vocals made an instant impression on me, though the pop-ness of the production gave me little indication of what was in future store. There was her amazing work with the band Christian Death, at first with leader and founder Rozz Williams, resulting the essential albums “Ashes” and “Catastrophe Ballet.” Then after Rozz left, she continued with the band with guitarist and former Pompeii 99 band mate Valor Kand. This line-up resulted in such great songs as “Church of No Return” and “Believers of the Impure.” But if this is all you know of Gitane's work, it is literally just the tip of this brilliant woman's creative release. Her work with both incarnations of Christian Death displayed someone whose vocals range from ethereal banshee to rock goddess, all the while sounding effortlessly perfect. But nothing could have prepared the music world for the next chapters of Gitane's career, all lovingly captured and covered from the beginning of her solo work around 1991 to 1998 on Cult Epics lush special edition 2 DVD and 1 CD set, “Life After Death.”

After leaving Christian Death, a band whose own work had done some genre-bending in both incarnations, Gitane's career went into the one trajectory that no one could have guessed. Utilizing her influences by such legends as Billie Holiday, she transformed herself into a torch singer with heavy jazz and blues influences (which is only one petal to this multilayered flower). While some jazz musicians initially looked down on this “rock and roll girl” back then, Demone is a talent that demands respect and this set will silence whatever naysayer that is left. Janis Joplin was a rock and roll force who could sing the blues as well as the talented old ghosts and so does Gitane.

Disc One begins with a biographical piece that was aired on VPRO, a Dutch Television channel, from 1991. It covers her intense childhood which included being surrounded by nature, aggressive, girl-hungry boys and getting her first taste of death. They soon go into her discovery of love, sex and music. We get to see Gitane at the piano while the camera passes lovingly but fleetingly over a Billie Holiday album in the corner. There is some footage featured here that I would kill to see more of including shots of Gitane singing live while playing with fire (literally) and breaking a mirror and then a TV set with a hammer. Like any artist worth his/her salt, she is a seeker and it is this artistic freedom that is going to shine for the rest of this set. Speaking of which...

Gitane in the Dutch TV Special "The Dark Side of Life."

Following that is a live, B&W clip from the Mazzo in Amsterdam shot in 1989 that includes a blistering version of Holiday's now-classic “Strange Fruit.” This song is a standard that, by the time the '90's hit, had been covered to death by x,y and z performers. It is a powerful song but like a great image, it cannot truly ring true unless the person expressing can actually feel the song. Anyone with the right training can pull this off technically but then you are going through the motions, which is an insult to the material and audience. Gitane is not a faker and brings the right amount of emotional pain and realness that this song warrants and deserves.

Mazzo, Amsterdam 1989

After that is a one-song performance of “Sound of War” for Dutch Television from 1992. It's classic and simple, complete with a great saxophone solo. Again, like “Strange Fruit,” the temptation to do an anti-war song and wring it like the grasp of death is upon it is too irresistible for most, but Gitane and her band find a great balance of emotion without letting any well-meaning but ill-plotted out cheese sully it.

Singing "The Sound of War" in 1992.

Courtesy of VPRO Radio in Holland, we then get a three song clip from '93 featuring the great “Love for Sale” (excellent audio on this batch, by the way). The show following this one, from the ISC Club in Bern, Switzerland in 1993 is one of the best on this disc, featuring the show stopper, “I Have a Right to Sing the Blues.” Mein Gott, this is phenomenal stuff, featuring some great, experimental-type sonic horns, percussion and keyboards bleeding together and perfectly offset by Gitane's big, smooth and at times scouring voice. Screw anyone whose “blues” music is basically raping the corpse of Robert Johnson (Clapton, I am looking at you) and/or morphing what were once some good chords into Michelob-lite butt-bar-rock. This is the real blues (Also see, Pierce, Jeffrey Lee. Can you imagine if those two could have worked together? A girl can dream). This is raw and infernal and beautiful, which is really what all great music should be. Especially the blues.

Rounding up Disc One is a killer live-set from the Indie Tour in 1995. The six-song set includes a deconstructed, dreamy cover of “I Only Have Eyes for You,” Jimi Hendrix's “Manic Depression” and the original “These Vulnerable Eyes.” (The latter two are both featured on the collaborative album between her and the late, great Rozz Williams, “Dream Home Heartache.”) Seeing Gitane playing an open-air venue doing these gorgeous torch songs in broad daylight, dressed in a crimson-red evening gown and nose chain is a sight to behold. While typically these are songs that were born in the smokey hothouse of seedy clubs, it all works. When the material and performer are this good, it's proof that they can shine anywhere.

Singing on the Indie Tour in Querfort, Germany.

Disc One is a great representation of the blossoming of the early stages of Gitane's solo career with a defined focus on the blues/jazz side of of her work. Disc two has some shades of this but goes further into the other sides of her 90's solo work and also her collaborative work with Rozz. It's all shades of brilliant blues, blacks and reds from here on out.

The opener for Disc Two is the promotional video for the single, “Heavenly Melancholy,” directed by Nico B. (Who also helmed the brilliant short film PIG and is the man responsible for giving us Cult Epics.) Made and released in 1992, its sonic sleekness and dance-floor friendliness is the perfect opener. There's some jazz tinge to Gitane's voice but the music is different, letting you know that you are in for a wholly unique ride. The video itself features a bewigged Gitane wandering the streets rejected until she finds herself welcomed into the arms of a large S&M club! (If only the rest of us would be so lucky when lost in large European cities!) The club scenes are contrasted with some beautifully lit scenes of Gitane, with her platinum hair close cropped, singing, while some other latex-clad lovelies of both genders dance around. There's some gorgeous jewel-tone sets and lighting going on here, with all that black vinyl and rubber looking especially shiny against cobalt blue and fire orange backgrounds. It may not re-invent the music video wheel, but it does add some lovely new tones to it.

Goddess in Vinyl: Still from "The Heavenly Melancholy" Video

Then there's a brief clip from the UK video magazine “Skin Two” from 1994 featuring a lot of preening S&M enthusiasts and a way too short clip of Gitane singing while tied up and blindfolded as a a Domme teases her with a whip. What you hear is great but undoubtedly the “Skin Two” folks were more focused on the obvious and less creative side of things.

After that, we get a short but chewy documentary from Denmark in 1995 entitled “Fetish Generation,” courtesy of Steen Schapiro. There's some good interview footage where Gitane talks about her involvement with the S&M community and how it is reflected in her music, noting that fetish is a facet of the her music, not the other way around. This take is so intriguing, since so many musicians have employed sexuality as a manipulative, borderline cynical tool of intention, with the music often being an afterthought. With Gitane Demone, it is refreshing because sexuality is just one of the many colors she is painting her music and words with. Featured here are the songs, “Tongue of Fire,” “Cool Domina” and “Perv,” which are all very strong. You also get to see Gitane ride a guy around like a pony on stage and then man-up with a willing submissive lass, all with the help of a luscious apparatus. (You'll have to buy the DVD for further detail, folks.)

Brief performance shot from "Fetish Generation" Documentary

Then we get some straight up live footage, with a killer set from a show in Hamburg in 1994. This is the show where we really get into the meat of the music from this era. Featured here are some crunchy renditions of “Tongue of Fire,” “Perv” (which positively smokes and crackles, here) and “Loveless.” The band is really great here, as is the striking image of Gitane belting out these saucy-raw rock & roll songs and wielding everything from a cat o'nine tails to a large double ended dildo with the total authority of someone who knows exactly what to do with them. This is definitely one of the best highlights of this already stellar disc.

"Tongue of Fire" in Hamburg, Germany.

Segueing smoothly into the next aspect of her career is some choice footage from the “Dream Home Heartache” tour along with co-collaborator/conspirator Rozz Williams. Anyone who is a fan of the album will be extremely happy to hear these tracks live, complete with the non-album cover of David Bowie's “Time,” courtesy of Rozz. (An excellent cover to boot.) Even more lucky is that we get a healthy selection of material totaling 7 songs, which is basically almost the whole album sans Gitane's “Manic Depression” and the tune “These Vulnerable Eyes.” This is okay though since you get to hear them on Disc One. Hearing their soul-burrowing cover of Roxy Music's otherwise uncoverable song, “In Every Dream Home a Heartache” live is extremely special, capturing the cold claustrophobia of the original. The only hiccup is that the climax of the song is cut off, which is a total sonic interruptus.

From the "Dream Home Heartache" tour.

Given that this was far from a huge tour, having this type of documentation of this legendary collaboration complete with clear audio and video, is a huge gift. The stage set-up is as unique as the music, with the mise-en-scene being more of a beaten down European cafe than rock & roll club. Whenever it is a solo turn, the other one sits at a small table with a glass of wine and a lit candle, with the vibe being slightly decadent and melancholy. The only real annoyance is that there are various times where you can hear people loudly talking in the background. Seriously, folks, if you want to have a big conversation with your friends, go to a regular bar or coffee shop. Doing it at a live performance is just flat out rude. Anyone who has been on stage and exposing their art can attest to that.

Rozz singing Bowie's "Time."

That unavoidable nuisance aside, this is a great set and gives a sweet peek into another facet of both Gitane and Rozz's art. The beauty of these two geniuses coming together is that you have two equals with diverse abilities, raw talent and a total willingness to experiment and take a risk. Which is honestly the biggest reason why both the album and performance works so well. This whole set (and DVD) is a Stendhal Syndrome inducing experience of live art.

Following that up is no mean feat but we get more rare footage with Gitane making a special appearance at a Christian Death show with Rozz at the Astoria II in London, 1996. The footage is good, the band's tight and Gitane sounds powerful. The big problem here is the audio on Rozz's mic. While he is absolutely on fire here, with a nice high-energy contrast to the quiet moodiness of the “Dream Home Heartache” tour, you can barely hear his voice at all. Which is a bit of a bummer but anyone who has to shoot video in a live situation can tell you that audio is a bitch-goddess that can give as much as she takes. That said, it is still great to have this preserved and hearing Gitane sing “Lament” off of “Ashes” is beyond gorgeous. There is literally nothing this woman can't do.

Gitane & Rozz during a Christian Death show

in London, 1996.

Rounding out this disc is a 1998 performance in Kato, Berlin. After all of the lush blues, lovely melancholia and sexual decadence, we get a stripped down but powerful mini-set of four songs, opening with “I Lost a Friend to Heroin.” A song like this could easily slip into sap but instead it is crunchy and appropriately gut level. Being someone who has lost some loved ones to addiction, this song pretty much nails the feeling. But even if you are someone who hasn't, it will still hit you. Continuing the great streak is “Speed” and “Incendiary Lover.” The live version of the latter is a vast improvement over the studio one I heard many moons ago.. The studio one is pretty but very polished. Live, it sparkles. But the true standout here is the final song, sung a-Capella and being the classic French song “What Now, My Love?” This is a song that has been covered by everyone ranging from Frank Sinatra to Elvis Presley, but it is Gitane's that is the most heart wrenching, finding that rare middle of raw emotion and a rich voice. There is no better note to end on than this hard hitting and beautiful song.

Souring through "What Now, My Love?"

Cult Epics has done an absolutely primo job of preparing and compiling material. This set is both a valentine to any fan and also to Gitane herself. There was some obvious good thought put into what material to mix and how it was placed. The real testament to this is that not only is it perfect for someone who is familiar with her work, but it is also a very good introduction to someone who is new.

In addition to all of this audio-video goodness, there is even a bonus CD featuring unreleased covers of such songs as “Time,” “Them There Eyes,” “In My Solitude” (a big favorite) and “Gloomy Sunday,” among others. It is beyond a treat.

One of the best things about this set is the idea of having this lovely and comprehensive documentation of a truly unique and great artist. Some of our best artists are the ones that often get overlooked by the mainstream press. But others can keep going through the motions while those of us in the know can celebrate and support the real artists. The cream will rise and the proof is in “Life After Death.”

Now, here's hoping for a follow up disc in the next few years covering her post-1998 work, with the most recent being the amazing, jangle-indie rock band The Crystelles. The beautiful thing about artists like Gitane Demone is that both their past, present and future work only gets richer and more layered with time.

BONUS VIDEO!

Sticky Sweet Music with Crunch: An Interview with Power-Pop-Punk Rock Legend Sammy Serious

2011-02-01T14:04:00.000-08:00

I'm not entirely sure how the work of Sammy Serious and his classic power pop/punk band The Zeros (think Cheap Trick meets the Dickies with some Bowery Boys attitude thrown in for good measure) came into my existence, but I was a convert from day one. I can tell you that the first song I ever heard was the Zeros “Sticky Sweet Girls,” which is on their major label debut “4-3-2-1..Zeros” and it was instant love. There are songs that take awhile to properly woo you into their groove and then there are the ones where you are smitten with by the 10 second mark. Needless to say, it was the latter all the way for me when it comes to the Zeros.

But that album, as I was soon to find out, was only the tip of the iceberg, with the central figure being lead singer and songwriter Sammy Serious. Turns out, Mr. Serious has had an amazingly productive career as a solo artist as well as work in other bands, such as Serious Suicide. Most recently, his musical touch has popped up in a brand new Zeros album entitled “Zero In.” While Sammy is the only remaining member of the “classic” line-up (that being Danny Dangerous on bass, Joe Normal on lead guitar and Mr. Insane on drums), it will not disappoint anyone who is a fan of any of Sammy's past efforts. Thanks to the joys of social networking, I contacted Sammy about doing a little interview for my small but mighty blog and much to my happiness, he said yes!

So without further ado, here's a little Q&A with none other than Sammy Serious!

Question: Preaching to the Unconverted- How would you describe your sound and style to anyone who is new to all of the Serious works?

Answer: I would describe it as hold on to your life cause SAMMY SERIOUS is going to come in and rattle your brain.

Question: What were your original influences when starting the Zeros and how do they differ from what influences you now?

Answer: My influences when I started THE ZEROS are basically the same now as it was then. I still listen to all the same stuff today back when I started the band along with some new stuff out today.

My theory is what's good is good and if I hear something I like it doesn't matter when I started listening to it just matters if I like it or not.

Question: Being from the New Jersey area, was your life ever touched by the hand of the great Uncle Floyd?

Answer: Uncle Floyd was a great show growing up in New Jersey, you got to see some great bands on the show along with some funny skits it was really a show that I would say influenced a lot of shows on TV like Saturday Night Live and Mad TV.

Question: You mention DOG DAY AFTERNOON in the Zeros song “Pina Coloda Bang.” What other films have made an impact in your life?

Answer: Saving Private Ryan I must have watched that at least a 100 times

and every time I watch that movie I think about all the People who serve and protect us

SALUTE THE PEOPLE WHO PROTECT OUR COUNTRY FOR OUR FREEDOM.

I also wrote a song about the people who serve our country titled American Vets

which is on the CD LAST STOP OP HOTEL. Check it out. There are other movies that made a impact on my life but there are too many to name.

Question: Are there any records/books/films in your collection that would probably shock your fans?

Answer: Not really.

Question: In addition to the Zeros, you've also made a number of solo IDs and worked with Serious Suicide. What are some of the key differences between the three different parts of your musical career? Which albums would you recommend to someone first getting into Serious Suicide, the Zeros and your solo work?

Answer: That's a good question I don't really put one before the other its more like I have different extensions on my writing and they go into different avenues. I would think if you like one you should like the others they are all from the same brain just a different part of the insane.

Question: I have heard that with the latest “ZERO IN” that you ended up doing the bulk of the work with the music. What was that process like and how long did it take for it to be completed and released?

Answer: I wrote the album and recorded and produced the record and it took a few months for it to come all together to make the complete record. I also recorded the record at Hit Track studios in Las Vegas with studio mogul TOM PARHAM who I worked with on projects in the past, so that is a good thing to have a engineer who knows what your after and knows how to get it fast so things move quickly.

Question: Your work has been featured in a number of films,with the best arguably being the cult classic TAPEHEADS with the song “Mr. MX-7.” What was it like working on that song and that film? Did you get to work directly with Stiv Bators?

Answer: When I wrote the song Mr MX-7 I did work with Stiv Bators on a daily basis. Stiv was a Icon, I loved the Dead Boys and Stiv was one of the coolest, kindest rock and rollers I ever met and worked with.

Question: I love how much name-play is used in your songs, like “I've Got My Name,” the Introduction and Good night portions on “4-3-2-1...” and most recently with “Now Sammy.” How did this come to be part of your style over the years?

Answer: The names are a big part of THE ZEROS along with some other characters who are in the band LIKE the Decantor, the Zeromonger, etc...

There are songs for these other characters I created but your just going to have to wait for NAMES VOLUME 2 to be released to hear these songs along with some other names that surround THE ZEROS.

Question: What advice would you give to any independent artist starting out in the music business?

Answer: Make sure you promote yourself wherever you can to who ever you can.

Question: You've done some really fun, borderline surreal, video work on You tube with The Moo Moo Serious Show. Any plans to take this part of your creativity further?

Answer: Moo Moo Serious is a character that is part of the Zeros family. She is one of our biggest fans that follows the members and gives them advice like a concerned mother and also has a cooking show on YouTube and she should be posting another episode soon.

Question: At the end of the day, how would you like to be described?

Answer: NOW SAMMY? SAMMMMMMMY? SAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMY ? For everyone reading this going What! this is a part of the song on the new record “Zero In” by The Zeros .

Question: Bonus Barbara Walters Question: If you could pick any musicians, living or dead, to work with, whom would it be and why? What is the Sammy Serious dream team?

Answer: If I was to start a band and I could pick any musicians to be in it

I would get Burt Bacharach to play keys, Roger Waters to play bass, Roger Taylor to play drums, Alvin Lee, Jimmy Page, to play guitar, Bozo the Clown to play tambourine

and have Alice Cooper, Freddie Mercury, David Bowie, Johnny Lydon (Rotten), John Lennon hanging out so we can hang out after the session and have a party.

Also if anyone wants to check out The Zeros you can check us out on www.myspace.com/thezeroswww.myspace.com/thezeros

www.facebook.com/sammyserious OR search Facebook for the Zeros.

Much thanks to Sammy for taking the time out to answer my Questions and for making some of the best and most underrated music to have come out in the past 20 years. If you like your music with lots of fun, humor, crunch and catchy, then go no further than the works of Sammy Serious. Plus "Zero In" is a really, really fun album.

In Memoriam: Tribute to Don Van Vliet, John Leslie and Jean Rollin

2010-12-20T18:23:00.000-08:00

Recently, a number of legendary artists have passed away, each one leaving both a void and a distinguished fingerprint behind. In addition to the great Leslie Neilsen and Blake Edwards, there have been three whose talents and vision have left a huge impact on me as a person and an artist. The three in question are Jean Rollin, Don Van Vliet (of Captain Beefheart fame) and John Leslie.

Van Vliet from the fantastic Beefheart album, Ice Cream for Crow.

An insanely gifted painter as well as musician, was one of those rare birds who changed everything while never being able to be pinned down as anything. The only label you could put on this man is the genius one.

John Leslie was a guy that wore many hats as well; actor, musician and director. An intensely underrated actor, Leslie was a multi-leveled thespian who could pull off likable, sleazy, sinister, polished, piggish and lovable rogue with equal ability. Whether he was playing commitment-phobe with a heart of gold Jack in Anthony Spinelli's NOTHING TO HIDE or the highly dysfunctional millionaire gone to seed Lee Balcourt in Cecil Howard's highly recommended FIRESTORM Trilogy, he could truly do it all. Even in lesser films, Leslie was always the best thing about them. He's truly one of my favorites and his star will always shine in this household.

John Leslie in Dave Friedman's BLONDE HEAT.

Last, but certainly not least, was the loss of French director Jean Rollin, who re-invented horror films and managed to incorporate a painter's eye for visual mixed with a strange and occasionally sad tone to his films. Some of Rollin's best films could be described as beautiful and haunting fever dreams. My first Rollin film was the intense and melancholy LIPS OF BLOOD/LEVRES DE SANG, thanks to Cultcuts having me review it. It made me a convert and in proper tribute, here's my original review in its full state. Though words do not really do full justice to this film and director.

LIPS OF BLOOD REVIEW

Few genres of horror have become creatures of convention like the vampire film. From decadent

Euro-type lady magnets to the soulful loner who walks the Earth guilt ridden, they have all been done to death and then some. Even in 1975, the vampire genre had already become one riddled with stereotypes.

So it takes an artist with a distinct vision and boatload of talent to use these conventions and bend them to create something fresh and effective. One such artist is French director, screenwriter and author Jean Rollin, whose film, LIPS OF BLOOD aka LEVRES DE SANG, is one of the best vampire films to

have come out in the past thirty years.

In fact, the film opens with that classic horror locale, the old graveyard. At night, no less!

A white van approaches an old Parisian graveyard, where two men and a woman, clad entirely in dust brown, right down to the veiled hat. The group starts to load in bodies, all of them ensheathed tightly by white sheets. These seemingly lifeless forms are taken into a beautiful and gothic tomb, and then placed

in plain wooden coffins. Just when you think this is business as usual, there is one of the most subtle but extremely effective shots in the film. The veiled woman, with a melancholy stare, looks at one of the

bodies as it starts to gasp for air through the sheet. It’s so simple but so creepy.

Immediately after that, we cut to a jazzy, in crowd type of party, which is where we meet Frederic

(Jean-Loup Philippe) and his doting mother (Nathalie Perrey). While talking to his date, Frederic

suddenly becomes entranced by a photo used in a Parfum Nordia ad. This photo is an image of a huge, foreboding castle, still strong looking despite the moss and the ruin. It is this image that proves to be a catalyst for not only Frederic but for the rest of the film.

When he was a young boy, Frederic’s father died, which had some how triggered a huge memory loss within him. Seeing the photo brings him back to when he was a young boy on the verge of puberty. He is lost at night, around the same ruins in the photo. He is rescued by a beautiful, young woman with short, dark hair, red lips and clad entirely in white. She covers him with her sweater and lets him sleep in the castle until dawn approaches, when she quickly sends him back to his mother. Young Frederic tells her he loves her and now adult Frederic is determined to find this woman. The one he may still love, after all

these years.

His mother immediately attempts to put this thought out of his mind and tries to convince him that it was just a fever dream of youth. But the wheels are already in motion and he quickly finds the photographer who shot the photo. This leads to the only scene in the whole film that seems a little out of place,

involving the lady photographer shooting a fully nude and amorous model. There is a nice contrast in the scene involving the image of the saucy model and the sole sound of the camera clicking. No music or dialogue, just a cold and mechanical sound.

The photographer originally plays coy, but agrees to meet him at the Aquarium at midnight, where she

has another shoot. She takes a liking to him and decides that she will tell him the information he wants then. The man’s got a few hours to spare, so he goes to a terrific looking cinema, whose outside walls

have this great, sort of Indian or Turkish inspired mural. He goes inside the theater, which is playing Rollin’s LA VAMPIRE NUE (1969), and soon sees the young girl. Naturally, he follows her and keeps doing so until he ends up in the graveyard that was in the beginning of the film. Unknowingly, he

unleashes four vampire women upon the city.

The scene of the vampire women arising is one of the most arresting and frightening scenes ever in a vampire movie. It’s hard to describe, but there is this quick rhythm to the scene that comes out of

nowhere. So that combined with the arresting looks of the vampiresses makes it memorable, to say the

very least. In firm Rollin tradition, the four of them are in pairs. Two of them are clothed only in long, sheer fabrics and, not unlike the sisters in REQUIEM POUR UN VAMPIRE (1971), are blonde and brunette. The other two, my personal favorites, are two flaxen haired twins (Catherine and Marie-Pierre Castel) whose ethereal beauty barely masks their own feral nature.

From there on, the audience, along with Frederic, is taken upon a strange and very surreal ride, involving

a hired hit man, strait jackets, a bonfire of bodies, and a final image that is haunting and sadly beautiful, which could very well describe the entire tone of the film. Unsettling but very lovely.

Jean Rollin has made a substantial cult career in making erotically tinged films, ranging from the horrific (LE VIOL DU VAMPIRE (1967) to the wholly erotic (BACCHANALES SEXUELLES (1974). What makes this interesting is that, aside from the camera scene, none of the nudity or even love scenes comes across as strictly erotic. That tinge is definitely there but there is purity and menace there that is

extremely hard to portray, even by usually competent filmmakers and actors. You just have to look at the Dracula’s brides scene in BRAM STOKER’S DRACULA (1992) to see that. The nudity and vampire women are there but totally lack the inherent scary sexiness that Rollin’s vampire femmes possess.

Visually, this is a gorgeous film. I’ve heard of it being compared to the works of Argento, in terms of

color. Both men are visual masters, but Rollin opts for more toned down colors that are striking without being overwhelming. There are a lot of light colors here, with the only noticeable dark colors being the ruddy mouths of the women and the purple fabric draping the nude blonde vampire.

As Frederic, Jean-Loup Philippe does a really great job of portraying a haunted man with good

intentions, who thankfully lacks the naiveté one would expect with this type of character. (See

Jonathon Harker.) He also assisted in the writing of the film, which makes one wish he could have done

more work with Rollin. Like everyone else in the film, he is physically interesting to look at it, with his

tall frame, blue yes and boyish, permanent messed up hair. Bizarrely, Philippe’s other best known film is the 1975 sex film LE SEXE QUI PARLE, which among other things, is known for inspiring the US

cult film, CHATTERBOX (1977).

Like so many notable filmmakers before and after him, Rollin tends to use some of the same people over and over again. Both the Castel twins and Annie Belle (who was the young girl that haunted Frederic)

were in BACCHANALES SEXUELLES. Plus, the former were also in Rollin’s PHANTASMES

(1975) and LA VAMPIRE NUE. Belle would go on to be in such movies as Joe D’Amato’s ABSURD (1982). Nathalie Perrey continued to work with Rollin for many years, including his most recently

released film LA FIANCEE DE DRACULA (2002).

Redemption did a terrific job with this disc, being the first Pal DVD release of LIPS OF BLOOD in the United Kingdom. In addition to a still and cover art gallery; there are two trailers for THE SINFUL

NUNS OF SAINT VALENTINE (1973) and THE BLOODSUCKER LEADS THE DANCE (1975). There is even a music video for The Nuns “White Slaves.” (Which will definitely appeal to the Goths

with a heavy fetish bent out there.) My only real complaint about this disc is that there are two instances

in the film where there are lines of dialogue without subtitles. Thankfully they are brief and don’t ruin

the film, but it is still a minor nuisance.

LIPS OF BLOOD is perfect for the art film lovers who also happen to love horror and visa versa. Not

only that, but it is a great hallmark in the long, colorful career of one of France’s greatest genre filmmakers.

Updates? We don't need no stinking updates!

2010-12-20T15:50:00.000-08:00

But alas, you're getting them anyways!

Hope you're having a good or at least a non-depressing Holiday season and keeping warm out there. If you've been wondering what I have been up to between the Mike White interview (Seriously, buy his book y'all. It is worth it.) and now, here are a few links that will fill in the gap. Enjoy and stay tuned!

In addition to my steady work with the great film review site Cultcuts, I also was interviewed for the second time around by the one and only Frank Cotolo for his internet radio show, the Cotolo Chronicles. In addition to being a radio personality extraordinaire, he's also a fab interviewer and fine writer to boot. If you're curious, you can access a link to the show here.

I've also started contributing to the relatively new but already going strong site, Cinema Head Cheese. Check out both sites for some fun and fine film writing a go-go. (Plus they are great guys too.)

The biggest news is that I have recently joined the staff at Video Watchdog. This is a huge pleasure for me, especially since VW was one of the big film magazines that helped open my eyes to the colorful world of cult and foreign films back in my early teens.

I've made my debut with issue #160, which is fresh from the printers and uber-lovely. In addition to my two BYTES of Troma's BIGFOOT and Media Blaster's LEMON GROVE KIDS MEET THE MONSTERS, there are some terrific articles about Friday the 13th, including the underrated series with Robey, an interview with June Lockheart and a ton of great reviews.

I also got to contribute to the Best DVDs of 2010 list on the Video Watchblog as well. All of the contributions are really good and a near-painful reminder that I need to find a bag of money asap!

There are other projects cooking, but more on those when the time comes. Thank you everyone for reading and keep fighting the good fight and support great, fringe culture.

Don't Eat the Popcorn, But Enjoy the Ride!: An Interview with Mike White

2010-10-22T21:29:00.000-07:00

To create a zine of any type takes a certain type of creative spark and energy. After all, you're doing something that is DIY, so you gotta make it count. Now to keep said zine going after its initial run takes an especially precious and resourceful blend of focus and energy. Take, for example, Mike White's great film zine, Cashiers du Cinemart, which began operation in 1994. Many a zine from this era has died with a whimper, especially once the age of the Internet and Blogging took a stranglehold in the writing community. (For better and worse.) But Mike kept his creation going, featuring many a strong writer and some wickedly diverse content. This is not your average cult film zine, a fact that shines brilliantly in the newly released tome, IMPOSSIBLY FUNKY: A CASHIERS DU CINEMART COLLECTION.

Even if you've read this noted zine or are still scratching your head over the beautiful bastardization of the classic cineaste periodical Cahiers du Cinema, the odds are damn fine that you will still enjoy this book. It's got more variety than a holiday Whitman's sampler and tastes better too. With articles ranging from Dr. Demento and Crispin Glover to superhero films and the cinematic works of crime author James Ellroy, there is something here for everyone. I was very lucky to get a sneak peek at the book, along with author, filmmaker and mastermind Mike White. Take a step behind the curtain and enjoy!

Impossibly Funky - The Book Trailer from Mike White on Vimeo.

How many books have their own trailers? Not many!

First of all Mike, thank you so much for thinking of Mondo Heather for the Impossibly Funky promo tour a-go-go! Now to start things off, what exactly spurred you into the wooly world of film zines?

Mike: Like just about everything in my life, it was a confluence of events that finally pushed me over the edge. I’d been a big fan of Factsheet Five (http://www.factsheet5.org/) and loved reading about various film and work zines but didn’t have anything to trade for these. While working at a movie theater I got the idea to do my own zine of life at the cinema. This idea languished until I graduated from college and landed a shitty job where I worked some crazy hours, including a few overnight shifts. Add to that the strange events surrounding a documentary I made (WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE FOOLING) and everything resulted in the messy birth of Cashiers du Cinemart.

-Keeping in that vein, are there any particular inspirations for your writing?

Mike: Style-wise I write far too stream-of-consciousness. I used to bury a lead so deep that it took a back hoe to find the start of an article. I’ve tried to change this over the years by learning how to rewrite my own material. I took a page from Charles Willeford’s The Woman Chaser there with the idea that the biggest part of writing is rewriting. Content-wise, I think that I was influenced a lot by Colin Geddes and Rich Osmond with the joy they showed in their zines Asian Eye and Teenage Rampage.

-You've got a great assortment of writers in the Cahiers du Cinemart league. How did you round up everybody?

Mike: It was kind of like The Dirty Dozen, I found all of them in jail, waiting for death. Actually, over the years I approached and have been approached by a lot of folks. Nearly all of them have turned out to be terrific writers. When people have come to me and asked for an “assignment,” I tell them to write about what they love – preferably something I’ve never heard about. That helps capture their enthusiasm as well as expand my cinematic frontiers (and hopefully those of the reader as well).

-What was the big pull for putting this book together?

Mike-I felt like I’d come to a breathing point in terms of putting the zine in its grave and wanting to look back and update some articles while combining others. Plus, there were a few things I had left to say that never made it into Cashiers du Cinemart. Some people were of the opinion that everything should go into the book verbatim—warts and all—while I was more of the mind to rewrite everything. At the end I think that it was a mix of both.

-How was the decision making process for the chapters and individual articles?

Mike: I got together with two of my friends, Mike Thompson and Lori Hubbard-Higgins, and laid out a huge spreadsheet of everything that had ever been in the zine before. They volunteered their favorite pieces while I did the same. By the end of a long evening of coffee and weepy reminiscences (we all had coffee, only I did the weeping) we had a workable list that was pared down until we got to a place that wouldn’t make an insane amount of pages. Likewise, I picked authors with whom I knew I could get in contact. Some people have fallen off the face of the earth since they sent in their pieces and I wanted to get sign-off to reprint their stuff. I didn’t want to be chasing some author around to beg for permission.

-There's definitely a weird dynamic in the book between you and Chris Gore. He gives a nice introduction but comes across as bit of a jerk in the Tarantino subsection. How are things in that camp currently?

Mike: I gave up holding a lot of grudges. It’s just so “September Tenth,” ya know? I kind of regret that I didn’t have my take on the whole Ultimate Film Fanatic show in the book. It might have made a good comparison piece to Gore’s Introduction. Things seem to be fine between me and him. We still have yet to ever meet in person but I’m up for buying him a beer if I ever do.

-Speaking of Tarantino, what is the strangest reaction you have had from either the articles or the two short films, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FOOLING and YOU'RE STILL NOT FOOLING ANYBODY?

Mike: I still laugh about the guy who asked me how I got all those Asian dudes to be in my film. The hate mail still keeps coming in, usually via drips and drabs on YouTube. You don’t know how many times I’ve gotten people trying to quote the line about good artists creative and great artists stealing to me. Yet, they can’t even agree on who said it first.

Thanks to the wonders of Youtube, you can watch and judge for yourself.

-Out of all the film people you have dealt with personally, who were the biggest surprises, both good and bad, to interact with?

Mike: I suppose that the people that surprised me most were the filmmakers who didn’t want me to review their films. You wouldn’t believe how many folks I talked to over the years that had I sought out to ask for copies of their movies, only to have them tell me their bizarre marketing strategies didn’t have zine or internet reviews in mind. Luckily, I ran into far more nice people than nasty. I was always surprised by how down-to-earth some of the celebs I interviewed have acted.

-The whole BLACK SHAMPOO section is really great and strangely sweet. What other creative things bent your brain in your youth, making you the great fringe culture guy that you are today?

Mike: Gosh, I wish I knew! It was probably due to being raised by the light of a Cathode Ray, hanging out in my basement with the television as my only friend. Like other kids my age I played for hours with Star Wars toys but I would mix Star Wars with disparate ideas like The A-Team, The Dukes of Hazzard, and The Blues Brothers.

-Something that I love about this book is the variety and the fact that you have figures and films that have not really been properly covered in any other film books. The Charles Willeford section is a terrific example of this. Is this a conscious decision on your part or is it the natural trajectory of the zine/book?

Mike: That’s very much a conscious decision. I love reading about authors or seeing movies that I’ve never heard of before and wanted to share that same idea with my readers. While I was doing Cashiers du Cinemart I always thought about the kid stuck in some crappy Midwestern town with no access to culture who happens to pick up a zine and read about someone or something that they never heard about that blew their mind; that’s because I was the same kid. Pieces about Harry Stephen Keeler in Murder Can Be Fun or on hopping Chinese vampires in Asian Eye opened my world up in directions I’d never thought possible.

-Seeing a filmmaker like Shuji Terayama get noted and written about made me smile. His works are ripe for proper discovery over here in the States. While I do disagree with writer Andrew Grant about FRUITS OF PASSION, I loved what he wrote about EMPEROR TOMATO KETCHUP. How do you personally feel about Terayama's works?

Mike: Here’s a filmmaker that needs to get some notice in the U.S. that just isn’t getting his due. I personally feel that his work needs to be seen and enjoyed, along with more of the Japanese New Wave. I’ve done all I could to help get these films more notice, even working with native Japanese speakers to subtitle Terayama’s movies for the gray market to get more American eyes on his movies. It’s like a treasure just waiting to be discovered.

-Out of all the articles you have personally written for the zine, what's your most and least favorite and why?

Mike: My most favorite piece is probably the Willeford. I was deathly afraid of writing this at first as I thought I’d never be able to do him justice. I finally sat down one Saturday and just started at it, writing down everything I could before beginning an arduous editing/rewriting process. In the end, I’d like to think I did a pretty okay job.

My least favorite piece might be my interview with Alex Winter. I’d been trying to get an interview with him for years and, when I finally did, it was around the release of his film Fever. If you just asked yourself, “Fever?” you’re not alone. It was kind of a psychological thriller with Henry Thomas. Despite meeting him under the guise of covering Fever, I should have thrown caution to the wind and just talked to him about the movies of his I love like Squeal of Death and Freaked.

-For any piece that I work on, I always take little notes while watching or reading whatever I am covering. One of notes here only says three words; “Paul Fucking Williams!” That's with complete seriousness since I love Paul Williams and is one of those artists who found great commercial success but yet I feel still deserves some critical love, which is most definitely found in this book. In fact, I think Leon Chase's piece was touching and perfectly fitting.

Mike: I love Leon’s piece. It’s so well-written and told me about someone I thought I knew but didn’t. Leon’s piece really made me appreciate Williams and even track down some of the movies with which he’s been associated—though I have yet to brave Ishtar.

Amazing clip of Paul performing "The Hell of It" from The Phantom of the Paradise.
We love you Paul!

-Another comment is that I love how well-researched and downright dense (in a good way!) the articles are. One could expand almost any of them into a book in their own right. Which do you think would make the best book?

Mike: Oh, geeze. I don’t even want to think about that. I try to think that I properly employed the “Lady’s Skirt” rule for these pieces—they’re long enough to cover the subject but short enough to keep it interesting.

If anything, I could see busting out the section on unproduced or misdirected scripts into its own book as I’ve still got a pile of a few dozen scripts that I need to read and research.

-Reading the Superman article, which was excellent by the way, you gave a great peek not only into the snake-eating-its-tail machina that can happen in the pre-production process in Hollywood, but also the scariness of fan boy culture. Namely the endorsement of the Kevin Smith script, complete with some semi-hokey dialogue. What do you think are some of the sins of fan boy community?

Mike: I think it’s the prejudice against certain films/filmmakers/actors without giving them a chance. By the time a movie comes out it’s already been scrutinized via all of its elements and not the final product. That’s a great way to condone crappy movies while condemning good ones. I mean, it took six months before anyone would even think to say that The Phantom Menace sucked. Everyone was still too busy kissing George Lucas’s ass to think differently.

-IMPOSSIBLY FUNKY contains what I think is probably the best interview I have ever read with Crispin Glover. How was the experience of putting together that interview?

Mike: I can’t tell you how many times I emailed and cajoled Glover about this. Finally, out of nowhere, he emailed me back to say that he was available for an email interview. Again, after I sent questions, it was a lot of wheedling to get the answers. I’m glad that the interview turned out as good as it did as he’s very high maintenance.

-Lastly, name a group of artists, films, books and records that will change our readers’ lives in three easy steps.

Mike: Books: A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole (the audio version read by Barrett Whitener is incredible), The Abortion by Richard Brautigan, and Of Tender Sin by David Goodis.

Films: The Spook who Sat by the Door (Ivan Dixon), Boxer’s Omen (Chih-Hung Kuei), and Once Upon a Time in the West (Sergio Leone).

Records: A Night at the Hip Hopera by The Kleptones, Silence! The Musical by Jon & Al Kaplan, and Metal Box by Public Image Ltd.

Many thanks to Mike for his time, great work and friendship. He's what we in the industry call a helluva guy and you can read more of his work at his main website, http://www.impossiblefunky.com/.

IMPOSSIBLY FUNKY is a great read and one of the best fringe cinema culture book to have come out in years. Support your indie writers and read some great articles while doing it! 

Update City

2010-08-29T21:36:00.000-07:00

Greetings Everybody! Sorry about the tumbleweeds around here of late. In between now and my last post, I finished a 10 page article related to one of my previous pieces on here. (Mum is the word thunderbirds until I have more definite news.) Even bigger is that the hubby and I ended up moving out of our previous digs. We had far outgrown our tiny apartment. So that coupled with the fact that the building was starting to look like a cross between George Romero's THE CRAZIES and one of Roberta Findlay's 1980's era movies, we knew it was time to get out. We're loving our new hacienda and have spent the last 2-3 weeks setting up shop. Plus now I can give good tips on which packing tape to use, so everything is a lesson if you're open to it.

Anyways, consider this your coming attraction post for future pieces to be featured in this space. Including....

-Impossibly Funky: A Cult Film Writing Extravaganza (An article about writer Mike White's latest book. For more info on that, then look no further than here.)

-A Bite-Sized Tribute to the Roughies

-Devo Round-Up...and so much more!

Until then, here is some video goodness to keep you a little sated. Thank you all so much for reading my blog!

We Want the Airwaves!

2010-06-30T13:43:00.000-07:00

If you enjoy fringe cinema or great talk radio, please feel free to tune in to the net radio show "Cotolo Chronicles" on Thursday, July 1st at 9pm Eastern time. Yours truly will be interviewed by legendary radio personality and author Frank Cotolo about all things weird, wonderful and cinematic. Just clink on the link above for more information. You can either listen live or listen to the archived version if you miss it. Either way hope you enjoy it!

“Live longer, Live Healthier, and let thy arse make wind! A Video Round-up and Tribute to Timothy Carey”

2010-06-03T00:15:00.000-07:00

“Live longer, Live Healthier, and let thy arse make wind! A Video Round-up and Tribute to Timothy Carey”

By Heather Drain

“We slip, we bleed. The truth is, I never really cared about conventional success. I was probably fired more than any other actor in Hollywood.” –Timothy Carey

Very few people have it and most of us do not. It’s the division between the Greek Gods and the mere mortals who are left to the farm, goats and vomitoriums. No, I’m not talking about religion or goat farming, but that tiny handful of artists who are so brilliant that they leave the rest of us in their dust. Years after they are gone into the ether of the afterlife, we are the ones eternally trying to catch up to them. Salvador Dali was one of them, as is Alejandro Jodorwosky, Clu Gulager, Bukowski and most definitely, Timothy Agoglia Carey.

On paper, Carey was a memorable character actor who worked with the likes of Stanley Kubrick (Paths of Glory, The Killing) and John Cassevettes (Minnie & Moskowitz, Killing of a Chinese Bookie). He also had a sizable body of work, often popping up on shows ranging from Gunsmoke to Mannix. The reality is that but so much more. Carey was a maverick of the biggest order and an artist who, like Sinatra, Elvis and Sid Vicious, did it his way. An artist and a man with true huevos who never took the easy way out on anything. This is the fabric, ladies and gents, of someone who will always be my hero.

Carey, as both an actor and director, possessed that incredible, rare human kinesis where you cannot take your eyes off of him for one second. There could be chimpanzees on fire while circus clowns openly weep, but if Carey is anywhere in the shot, he is the man you’re going to be looking at. Physically alone, he stood out. Most screen actors are pretty much on the wee side but not Carey, who was an oak of a man and stood around 6’5. Top that with jet black hair that often transformed itself into a pomp gone to seed (For the perfect example of this, see The World’s Greatest Sinner) and a pair of piercing, light blue eyes and you had a man whose looks alone commanded your attention.

But looks are like icing and are not substantial if you don’t have something underneath it for balance. Carey had that “it” factor, that presence that no amount of training, experience or plastic surgery can give you. It’s like being cool. You’ve either got it or you don’t. Give him a two-minute role in an hour and a half movie and trust that the main thing you will be talking about afterwards will be that guy. There have been and still are some great actors, but a tiny few can even come close to matching Carey’s intensity and sheer brilliance.

Unfortunately, the price one pays often for being ahead of their time is being majorly misunderstood by their peers, bosses and society at large. Eccentric at best and heaven help you if are not wealthy or charming enough to be given that moniker. Artists are communicators and have to fight, sometimes literally, to get their work out there and seen. Not everyone has to love it and in fact, sometimes they will utterly despise it, but if you are able to move their blank-eyed stares into some sort of emotion, then you have success. But people often loathe what they do not understand. Sometimes this is the fault of the filmmaker, but in this instance it’s more of a case of the man being ahead of the game by leaps and bounds.

Judging by his sole completed effort, the life changing The World’s Greatest Sinner and the glimpses of the works in eternal stasis, especially Tweet’s Ladies of Pasadena, Carey’s approach to filmmaking was unlike any others. The biggest fight for any artist, other than the communication breakdown, is being able to have a unique thumbprint. Especially when you realize cinema is often a daisy chain of inspiration. And while I’m sure Carey had his own inspirations, by the time he got behind the camera, every bit of it has his DNA in it a 110%. You can’t even fully compare it to the underground cinema of the time. If anything, Carey influenced a lot of those guys, not the other way around. This film is its own animal, all the way.

Being a real dyed in the wool maverick, Carey was bound to irk some people. There are near legendary stories of Carey pissing off actors ranging from Kirk Douglas, whom starred along side him in Kubrick’s war film Paths of Glory to Seymour Cassell. Why? Because he was some ego driven male diva? No because he tended to overshadow everyone on the screen. This was something never intentional and in fact, part of his drive as an actor was to heighten the quality of whatever project he was working on. It was this lack of ego that makes Carey all the more of a rare creature, especially with actors.

But if Timothy Carey was dynamite as an actor, then he was one neutron bomb of a director. His best-known work and only completed one is the one-of-a-kind religious rock and roller surrealist masterpiece, The World’s Greatest Sinner. The filming reportedly started as early as 1958, wrapped up in ’61 and was debuted in 1962. Watching this movie now is an intense experience but it must have felt like Stravinsky’s riot inducing performance of The Rites of Spring at its debut. This tale of a seemingly normal middle class salesman who turns into rock & roll playing evangelist who changes his name from Clarence to God Hilliard. God’s bad deeds include committing adultery with both an elderly woman and a teenage girl, then becoming completely disenfranchised with his family. The religious imagery is a real standout as well, with the most startling being God challenging the real thing by piercing a Eucharist that ends up bleeding.

This is some heady stuff. Showing something like this now to the unsuspecting spuds could elicit a charged reaction, but back in the early 60’s? Holy shit! Between the smart observations of both the weakness and power of one power-fueled man and an absolutely searing musical performance with a gold suited Carey gyrating to hordes of screaming fans, this is a movie that will brand itself on your psyche for a long, long time. It’s a revolutionary piece of work, then and certainly now.

It’s important to also keep in mind that this is an era where Elvis was censored from the waist down and guys like Pat Boone were raping the catalogs of good rock and roll records to make them less threatening to “proper” white families. A lot of kids today will see someone like the King and wonder what all the fuss is about. But I think anyone seeing Carey’s gyrations and instantly see the almost anihilistic lack of inhibition and fire that is going on in that man. You know, church never moved me that much but World’s Greatest Sinner? You better believe it!

Brothers and sisters, Mr. Timothy Carey was ahead of his time. Too ahead of his time as it turns out, since the film was very poorly received. Even its composer, a young Frank Zappa, famously ripped on it on the The Steve Allen Show. As ubersmart and gifted as Zappa was, he should have known better. This is the man that was responsible for films like 200 Motels , for crying out loud. (For the record, I am actually a Zappa fan and love his music for TWGS.) Carey actually stated on an episode of the West Coast public access show Art Fein’s Poker Party, that the only person that liked TWGS was the equally legendary John Cassevettes. Which is a shame and far from the truth now. At least Cassevettes put his money where his mouth was, since he cast Carey in both Minnie & Moskowitz and the great Killing of a Chinese Bookie. But more importantly, he also gave Carey film and editing equipment, along with trying to help him snag cast, crew and backers. It’s a tragedy that someone as special as Carey had to go through his life often misunderstood by so many.

That said, this is no sob story and someone like Carey deserves something better than trite pathos. His warpath of creative brilliance continued with a string of unfinished projects, starting with Tweet’s Ladies of Pasadena. No amount of description will prepare your eyes for this corneal cornucopia. The basic plot has Carey as the titular Tweet Twig, the only male in a knitting club called “Don’t Drop a Stitch.” He’s surrounded by knitting old ladies, a blowsy weightlifting cockney blonde for a wife (whom at one point bellows “Oh no! More bloomin’ animals!”) and a horde of the aforementioned animals whose nakedness will be clothed by Tweet and his ladies’ creations. If anything will ever make you want to flash your collective asses to network television as a whole, it is knowing that this was turned down. Yes, this was a TV pilot and in my Utopia, this is what would be on TV 24/7. Forget Lost, I’d much rather see Timothy Carey as this lovable bumble Tweet knitting and dressed up as a Native American Indian for no discernable reason. Do not fear Dada, folks.

Another project was A.L. and before you start having images of Franken or Capone drift in your heads, it is LA backwards. Quite fitting given that the plot revolved around a young midwestern couple that gets lost on the Los Angeles freeway while the wife goes into labor. Along the way he runs into your average person wandering the streets of LA; the worker, the illegal immigrant, the bums, the street kids, etc. Undoubtedly, it would have been great especially given that everything happens in one day. This was one of the big projects that Cassevettes tried to get backed for Carey, but was kyboshed when studio execs would only accept it if a lot of changes were made. This was unacceptable for an artist like Carey and the film was never made.

His last big project was a play/film entitled The Insect Trainer, in which he played the lead character, restaurant dishwasher Guasti Q. Guasti ends up being on trial for murder after letting out a ballast of flatulence so strong that it physically knocks over an old woman. Her fall proves to be fatal and at some point, Guasti realizes he has a talent for training insects. The Insect Trainer was inspired by the twin figures of Salvador Dali and Le Petomane, the famous French Fartiste. Footage of this film exists and is certainly very, very high on my personal wish list. Apparently Martin Scorsese donated $3,000 to the production, which just highlights the fact that Scorsese is the real deal. (Taxi Driver alone has forever and always sealed my love for the man. No matter how many times he uses Leonardo Dicaprio in his films.)

Timothy Carey was taken away from this plane on May 11, 1994 after suffering a massive stroke. Our bodies will always ultimately fail us in the end but it is the marks that we leave here that can be the testament of the spirit. Timothy Carey’s legacy is huge, as actor, writer, director and man. He was that rare force of nature whose power and beauty will never be equaled and always admired by anyone smart enough to be open to it.

Now onward ho to the audio/video celebration of this supernova of one man’s vision, talent and spirit. Always remember those that you may write off, so called madmen are sometimes the most perceptive of us all. (Except for that guy in your front yard wearing a ski cap on his genitals and singing “Oh Susanna.” He’s just batshit crazy.)

Anyways, on to the Video Round Up!

Ah yes, the infamous dance from the 1957 drive-in cult classic "Bayou" aka "Poor White Trash." It starts out as cute but as soon as Carey enters the scene, you know you are witnessing something really special. Note the way he grabs on to leading lady Lita Milan's hair, even deftly switching hands when he takes his shirt off. Wow!

One of my favorite moments in "World's Greatest Sinner." This is one of the most truly rock and roll moments ever committed to celluloid. I would love to watch this scene back to back to the Cramps doing "Tear it Up" from "Urgh! A Music War."

This is like having your psyche hugged by an angel. Enjoy!

Carey as "Moose" on the 70's chestnut, "Mannix." Nuff said!

INCREDIBLE clip of Carey on Art Fein's show. Bless this man for sharing such a rare gem with us. Notice the reference to Carey's scene stealing turn in "Beach Blanket Bingo!" And yes, the farting.

Carey's hilarious and demented turn in the Monkees' cult classic "Head." Attaboy Mike!

Here are some very fascinating links to interviews and articles dealing with the man.

http://impossiblefunky.blogspot.com/2010/04/evening-with-timothy-carey.html

http://www.absolutefilms.net/tim_carey/chicagodaily.html

http://www.absolutefilms.net/tim_carey/filmfax.html

http://www.filmlinc.com/fcm/1-2-2004/carey.htm

http://www.absolutefilms.net/

The Artist Within the Murderer

2010-04-19T23:02:00.000-07:00

Art and death are so perfect together that the union at times is wholly symbiotic. Art is all about creation. Some artists even use birth-related terminology when creating new works, such as referring to their various creations as “my children.” Where you have birth, you must have death. Ah yes here they are folks, the bookends of our lives. Death fascinates and frightens us, which is why it can be such a huge thread in so many works of art.

Now there are common ways for death to co-mingle with art. People in their lives die and that naturally will have an effect on their art. The fear of death or even the embracing of it can also be a big ingredient too. But the artist as a man and woman being the literal bringer of death has been a pretty rare thing. You have the obvious examples, like Varg Vikernes from Mayhem and Burzum, Phil Spector and of course ole Charlie Manson.

But to have an actual serial killer get legally released from prison because of the strength of his creative talent is practically unheard of. However that very thing happened in the early 1990’s in Austria with Johann “Jack” Unterweger aka the Poet of Death.

If ever there was one with a classic prone to serial killing childhood, Unterweger was it. His mother had been a prostitute and his father an American soldier that was long out of the picture before his son was officially in the picture. At some point early on, young Johann was abandoned and sent to live with his grandparents. Allegedly, his grandfather was a severe alcoholic with violent tendencies, though Jack’s Aunt came out later on to say that he had a poor but loving upbringing. Whatever the case, he certainly had a troubled childhood that begat a very troubled young man, whose first crime was roughing up a sex worker at age 16. It was only a matter of time that a serious transgression was bound to happen.

And happen it did, as a young woman was found dead in the woods. According to Unterweger himself, that before his first killing he had already committed numerous rapes and burglaries. It was the murder of 18 year old Margaret Schafer, whom he strangled to death with her own bra, that got him ultimately convicted and sentenced to life in prison.

Where this story starts to get really weird is that going into prison, Unterweger was reportedly illiterate. While there, he began to devour book after book and educated himself, as both a reader and a writer. The even more amazing thing is that he unearthed a talent strong enough that he started to get notice from the outside word. Poems, plays and short prose started coming out of him, but much like Jack Abbot before him, it was his autobiography Purgatory (Fegefeur) that got him the biggest notice and ended up being a bestseller. His work even garnered him literary prizes.

By the time he was up for parole, he had a bevy of prison reformists, writers and critics championing for his release with the reasoning that this sexual sadist and murderer had been reformed by art. This man’s intellect and creativity along with some well meaning but extremely naïve people got him out of prison and back into society.

Jack Unterweger went into prison an illiterate, poor, ex-pimp psychopathic murderer and came out a media darling and was immediately welcomed into high moving social circles. Book launches and society parties all welcomed the now stylish and handsome ex-criminal. Fegefeur even became a movie, making Unterweger one of the few serial murderers to have a writing credit on the IMDB. To anyone with any real logic about crime, it will come as absolutely no shock that prostitutes started showing up dead yet again in Vienna, a city with a usually very low crime rate towards sex workers in general.

The police suspected him immediately, but despite the surveillance, they couldn’t nail him on any suspicious behavior. Of course, Unterweger, like a lot of serial murderers was far from stupid and knew better than to do anything shady as the heat grew. Also like a lot of his fellow bloodthirsty spiritual kin, he quickly got very cocky, even challenging police about what they were going to do about this string of fresh murders. All of this bravura being displayed under the guise of a probing journalist. An act such as that either signifies brass balls or brass ignorance. In Unterweger’s case, it was a little bit of both.

Nevertheless the police had nothing solid on him until Unterweger flew to Los Angeles for research on an article about crime for a local Austrian magazine. During this five week period, the killings in Vienna stopped and suddenly three prostitutes were found strangled with their own garments in the City of Lost Angels. What followed after this was a fascinating case of hubris and fear, with the collaborative efforts of the Austrian police and the LAPD ultimately sealing Unterweger’s fate. He was convicted of murdering 9 women and was sent to prison, where he hung himself with some string he pulled out of his jumpsuit. The ultimate irony was that he utilized the very knot that he had used to murder so many women on himself.

Falco looking uber-suave.

There is something else tied to this figure that makes the story even stranger, all thanks to the very unlikely form of Austrian pop star Falco. In 1985, he released his massively successful Falco 3 album, which included his biggest known song “Rock Me Amadeus.” Also on that album was a creepy and completely overlooked in the US pop song called “Jeanny.” (In fact, it was never released in the United States as a single, despite it being huge in Europe.) This song, inspired by the Unterweger murders, went all the way to number one in Austria, Germany, Sweden, Norway, Switzerland and the Netherlands. All that despite being banned by some radio stations and being protested by various groups, including some dumb “feminists.” (Side note, I am a proud feminist but I do not need a bunch of reactionary fundamentalists trying to represent me and my biology. Just saying.)

Eerie Picture Sleeve for the "Jeanny" Single

Falco is an underrated artist, especially in this country where he pretty much is regarded as a “one-hit wonder,” despite having some moderate success with both “Der Kommisaar” and “Vienna Calling.” He did some really strange things under the pop music umbrella that still makes him stand out and “Jeanny” is further proof of this. The chorus is in English while the spoken word parts are in German, giving the listener a weird dysphoria especially given how near desperate sounding the speaker sounds. Just one look at the lyrics should tell you that this is not your momma’s pop tune:

NOTE: Lines in italics were in English in the original German version.

Jeanny, Jeanny...

[spoken] Newsflash, newsflash...

“Official government reports...” (all in English)

Jeanny, Jeanny...

Jeanny, come, come on
Stand up please
You're getting all wet
It's getting late, come
We must leave here
Out of the woods
Don't you understand?

Where is your shoe?
You lost it
When I had to show you the way
Which of us lost?
You, yourself?
I, myself?
Or... we ourselves?

Jeanny, quit livin' on dreams
Jeanny, life is not what it seems
Such a lonely little girl in a cold, cold world
There's someone who needs you
Jeanny quit livin' on dreams
Jeanny, life is not what it seems
You're lost in the night
Don't wanna struggle and fight
There's someone who needs you

It's cold
We must leave here
Come
Your lipstick is smeared
You bought it and
And I saw it
Too much red on your lips
And you said, “Leave me alone”
But I saw right through you
Eyes say more than words
You need me, don't you, hmmmh?
Everyone knows, that we're together
From today,
Now I can hear them, they are coming!

They're coming!
They are coming to get you.
They won't find you.
Nobody will find you!
You're with me.

Jeanny quit livin' on dreams...

[spoken] Newsflash:
In the last months the number of missing persons has dramatically increased. The latest account from the local police reports another tragic case. It is a matter of a nineteen year old girl who was last seen two weeks ago. The police have not excluded the possiblity that a crime has been committed.

Jeanny...

Jeanny, quit livin' on dreams...

Pleasant dreams, right? The best part is that the video is equally unsettling with Falco playing the part of the predator. For anyone used to seeing the man all suave and dapper will be very surprised as Falco lets go of the pop ego and immerses himself into character. It’s actually reminiscent of Golden Earring’s brilliant and disturbing clip for “When the Lady Smiles” minus the black humor. There’s no humor here to cushion just subtle queasiness, especially when thinking about the true crime connection to boot.

Sadly, Falco left this plane on February 6^th, 1998 after having a fatal auto collision in the Dominican Republic. But he got to leave behind a truly special thumbprint in the pop landscape of the 80’s. It’s sad to think of some of the crap that hit it big in the US while “Jeanny” was darkening up the European airwaves and dancefloors.

As for Jack Unterweger, perhaps one of the best lessons that one can learn from this is the importance of separating the art from the artists. Phil Spector is a genius that forever changed the soundscape of music but he is also an egomaniacal, abusive individual who murdered Lana Clarkson. Roman Polanski has made some of the best films in the past fifty years but he also drugged and raped a 13 year old girl. And yes, despite what the Modern Lovers claim, a lot of people called Pablo Picasso an asshole. Every human being on this planet is capable of great acts of kindness and beauty as well as total horror. Even the Nazis had loved ones and pets and there are no born monsters, just man-made ones.

For more information about this case, check out Katherine Ramsland's, author of the excellent Piercing the Darkness, in-depth article here.

Seltsame Soda !

2010-04-12T21:00:00.000-07:00

Spring is here and we have another installment in the "long awaited" series of weird soda reviews. Your mouth is dry so let it be moistened with the cola flavored brew from the Sprecher Brewing company. Tonight's unique soda is the wonderfully titled Puma Kola. Enjoy!

Puma Kola

Description: An all natural “gourmet soda” that is fire-brewed in a gas-fueled kettle for “distinctive flavor and character.” A semi-healthy alternative to mainstream colas featuring a cute yet surprised looking black puma with big fangs. Yes and you too dear drinker will be surprised by the weird jungle bite of this drink.

Fun Facts: This soda features kola extract, real vanilla, pure honey, yucca extract and a pinch of cinnamon. Unfortunately it also has high fructose corn syrup, which is known, around these parts as giving you “el grande liver.” That said yucca extract is reputed to have some health benefits ranging from hair growth to relieving sore muscles. Who knew?

The Gist: Fancypants soda that offers you better ingredients than your average soda.

The Smell: Like a sweet but oh so slightly medicinal version of Coke.

The Taste: The initial reaction is cola but that is immediately followed by a partially potent sweet aftertaste. But it’s a thick kind of sweet, not unlike you get with artificial sweeteners though thankfully not as foul.

Overall: It’s all right and gets the job done if you are looking for a cola with a slight bite to it. Honestly, I didn’t care for the aftertaste and if I were going to go the Fructose route I would rather have a bottle of Bawls or a good old-fashioned coke.

2 ½ Worried looking Pumas out of 5

Death to False Vampires!

2010-02-01T20:06:00.000-08:00

I’m a firm believer that one of the most pressing matters in our society today is the pussification of..well….everything. Playgrounds are totally kid-proofed, so gone are the days of big metal slides and swingsets, yet in a swift move of retardation, a lot of them have kept those wood chips that are fantastic for nasty splinters and eye gougings. But hey, at least you won’t have a bruised knee! Mainstream creative culture is massively guilty of this and no creature has been hit harder than the vampire.

Bela Lugosi in Tod Browning's 1931 classic, "Dracula."

The mythology and belief in the vampire, in all of its assorted forms, is ancient. In fact, the Greeks believed that having red hair was a symptom of vampirism. (Yes, we ginges have been discriminated against for a longass time.) The Lamia were believed to be women who wore snake skin and were used as a threat by parents to keep their kids in check. The lamia are even connected to Lilith, who was believed to be the biblical Adam’s first wife who was run off because of her unwillingness to submit to him. The Ewe people in West Africa believed that vampires could take the form of fireflies and specifically prey on their young. Now, is anyone going to use some glittery, metrosexual dandy to scare their hell spawn into cleaning their room? Hell no!

How did these creatures of the night go from being baby eating, blood slurping, vein eating, fanged, hideous monsters to Teen Beat fodder? While Twilight (2008) might seem like the obvious example, the direct root lies more with Anne Rice’s group of beautiful and tragic creatures. But at least Rice’s vampires had literal fangs and were halfway complex creatures capable of real villainy. (Except for Louis, who was a bonafide pussy that should have jumped into the sun before the second book was even published.) The vampire with human type fragility has popped up in great movies (Herzog’s 1978 remake of Murnau’s classic Nosferatu), underrated TV series (Forever Knight) and entertaining, though highly flawed films (Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula.)

The main cast of the vastly underrated "Forever Knight."

Truth be told, any Twilight hater out there could also probably blame Joss Whedon and the success of his shows, Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel. Of course, this can get a bit like the bible. Todd Browning’s Dracula (1931) begat Terrence Fisher’s The Horror of Dracula (1958) which begat Dan Curtis’s Dark Shadows (1966) which begat Forever Knight (1989) which ultimately begat Angel (1999), who was begat by Buffy The Vampire Slayer (1997). Yes, it can all make one’s head explode into a sanguine froth, but the creative arts in general are like this.

But you know who truly is to blame? It’s not Rice or Whedon, especially since both have done some good work and are capable of talent. It’s not even Stephenie Meyer, the creator of the Twilight books. Heck, seeing people, certainly kids, getting excited about reading is reassuring and gives writers like myself some hope. No, it’s the one-two punch of public demand and the major studios. The public needs to demand vampires with fangs and balls. If you want great cinema in general, then demand it because money talks. And for my money, one of the best vampire films in the past 20 years was the underrated Subspecies (1991).

Radu was charismatic and ghoulish. He had a heart but he also delighted in such wonderful activities as staking his own brother and then drinking his blood as it spurted out of his quickly decaying chest. Now that is a proper vampiric protaganist! Not to mention his striking physical appearance, with the long, spindly claw-like fingers of Nosferatu and the skin color and lanky hair of someone who has been in an eternal stasis of rot. It’s been noted that the hair and nails continue to grow post mortem, which is the visual effect you get with Radu. Having a highly talented Dutch actor in the form of Anders Hove doesn’t hurt any and he is able to give the monster a human side without sacrificing any of his nightmarish qualities, which is exactly how it should be.

Of course in this era of severe media retardation, ghouls don’t really sell that well to the libidos of adolescent girls or middle-aged women. Radu didn’t have six-pack abs nor was he some kind of sad panda-faced dandy. You can couple that with the character being in a low budget, independent film and it’s no surprise that people do not mention the name Radu next to wimps like Louis or any of the Twilight twinks. All that said, the Subspecies series does not get enough love. The first three films are highly recommended and really managed to blend the gothic imagery of the classics of vampire cinema with an old European world approach to the undead.

Radu, the main anti-hero from Full Moon's Subspecies series.

Which brings me to the aforementioned Bram Stoker’s Dracula. On one hand, it is visually lavish with one of the best cinematic scores courtesy of Polish composer Wojciech Kilar. Half of the cast are terrific, especially Tom Waits as the best Renfield this side of Dwight Frye and Klaus Kinski, the always dependable Richard E. Grant as Dr. Seward and Gary Oldman as the titular character. Despite the mention of Stoker in the title, this version is about as far removed from the classic piece of literature as the 1931 Lugosi film. Stoker was totally a creature of his environment and being a Victorian gentleman, the film’s romanticism and positive eroticism of the monster that is Dracula would have more than likely repelled him.

There is an underlying sensuality to the novel’s vampires, but it is a polluted one. Sexuality back then was something that was viewed as poisonous that if unbridled in any way could lead to disease and downfall. Some have theorized that the vampire is a metaphor for venereal disease and it is not a far out theory when dealing with this classic Victorian novel. Mina Harker is the prototype of the ideal Victorian woman, which makes Dracula attacking her all the more horrific, even if it is inadvertently dirty and sexual.

Coppola’s Mina is a winsome tart that is played horribly by Winona Ryder. She is to Mina what Kevin Costner was to Robin Hood. She looks lovely but was very ill suited acting ability wise for this character. This is especially obvious next to Sophie Ward’s Lucy, who is not only authentically British but actually has a natural warmth on screen. There’s nothing wrong with Mina having a sensuality to her but the problem is that Ryder is inherently an un-sexual performer. Peta Wilson had way more heat as a half-breed vampire version of Mina in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003) and was more compelling to boot. Ryder is just too bland and underdeveloped. Why would a guy like Dracula be excited by her? Jonathon Harker maybe, especially when he is played by the equally thespian challenged Keanu Reeves, but not some powerful, supernatural creature like Dracula.

Keanu would do anything for love but he won't do that.

Speaking of Reeves, the whole scene with him and the three oversexed vampire brides has moments of unintentional hilariousness, especially when he starts screaming. It’s eerily similar to one’s half-baked roommate finding out that their dog ate the rest of their stash.

One of the most annoying things about Coppola’s retelling, though, is the whole “love never dies” ploy. Granted the romanticism has garnered it a lot of fans and with better writing and a better lead actress, it could have really worked. Oldman is fantastic as this haunted creature that is still at heart a lonely man. In fact, while there are things I absolutely love about this movie, it is often frustrating because of the promise it holds and yet doesn’t automatically deliver. Plus Stoker’s name never should have been added to the title. Seeing a bad actor get his nipple licked was probably never on Stoker’s agenda for his masterwork.

Eileen Daly as vampire hitwoman Lilith Silver in the cult classic Razorblade Smile.

One 90’s era vampire film that did deliver all the goods in spades was Jake West’s Razorblade Smile. It’s a helluva lot of fun and manages to balance the gothic trappings of the myth while incorporating bits of wit and Hollywood action film style violence. Eileen Daly stars as Lilith Silver, a raven-haired beauty who is a sexy assassin with a brain who is constantly trying to stave off boredom, whether it is having bloody lesbian sex or bumping off members of the Illuminati.

To properly cover all the great, flawed and horrible vampire films out there, one would and many have, written books about it. The undead in cinema has made circular progressions; going from monster to sexy monster to sexy romantic monster and back to monster all over again. Whether it is the bloodthirsty and captivating creatures from True Blood to the boy band twinkleness of the Twilight films, it will be interesting to see what the cinematic landscape holds for one of the oldest mythological creatures.

Bonus! My Personal Top 10 Favorite Vampires Films*

Martin
Subspecies 1, 2, and 3 (tie)
Nosferatu (Murnau original)/Nosferatu (Herzog Remake) (tie)
Near Dark
Dracula (1931)
Blood for Dracula
Razorblade Smile
Blood and Donuts
Lips of Blood
Fright Night

The amazing John Amplas in one of the best films to have come out in the past 50 years, George Romero's Martin.

*My opinion is known to change according to mood, the position of the moon and how much my memory is willing to behave. Some honorary mentions should go to Taste of Blood, anything Franco has done, House of Dark Shadows, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Dance of the Damned, Love at First Bite (I actually had a crush on Arte Johnson as a kid because of this movie), Sundown: the Vampire in Retreat, The Return of the Vampire, Rockabilly Vampire among many others.

The infamous Project:Vampire. The cover would be cool if this was really bad early 90's porn, which is an insult to really bad early 90's porn. Ugh.

My Personal Top 7 Worst Vampires Films Ever or How I Stopped Worrying and tried to be more discriminating.

Project: Vampire
Dracula 2000 (Good basic story idea horribly raped and mutilated by lazy filmmaking. Plus why does Dracula like Monster Magnet? Wouldn’t he be more into something genuinely good and dark, like Christian Death or Bauhaus? Kiss my ass! TM Whitney Houston)
Witchcraft 7: Judgment Hour (Yes this is a vampire film and yes it is god-awful. It will make you hunger for the mise en scene of Night Eyes 2.
Blade
Queen of the Damned (Despite my snarking on dandies, I did enjoy “Interview with the Vampire” but this piece of simpy crap was terrible. Jonathon Davis??? Really??? Why did the production people hate Lestat that much?)
It’s a Troma film that I dare not type its name because just doing so could possibly send me into that spicy mix of anger and narcolepsy. Have you ever tried flipping off the TV while sinking into uncontrollable slumber? I don’t recommend it and I refuse to give them any publicity.
Subspecies 4 (While the first three are exceptional films, the fourth one is severely lacking with them neutering Radu and Ash, the Jonathon Morris character from Full Moon’s Vampire Journals (1997), being equally diminished. The crossover potential of characters was great but ended up being a huge let down.)

Open the New Year with a can of Whoop Ass!

2010-01-12T10:59:00.000-08:00

Life can be a beautiful thing, especially when one can utter the phrase "opening a can of Whoop Ass" and mean it literally. Yes, in addition to covering fringe cinema and often overlooked music, I occasionally have dipped my toes in the fructose waters of strange soda reviews. So what better way to get things started then with the Jones soda product, Whoop Ass.

Description: An energy drink that features Taurine, Royal Jelly and the sinister sounding Inositol. (Sounds like something that gives you anal bleeding and sexual dysfunction, doesn’t?)

Also features a pretty kicky label design that is anime-esque, minus the 12-year-old girls being assaulted by lurid tentacles.

Fun Fact: Taurine is an amino acid like compound that helps absorb fat. It also has been related to congestive heart failure. Good times.

Royal jelly has been used to treat such ailments as asthma and Inositol has been connected to war crimes in the past 20th century. Fun fun!

The Gist: Apparently revitalizes attitude and Restores faith in mankind.

The Taste: Different.

The first second, it is almost sweet but then features the classic bitterness of energy drinks, which tends to taste like a combo of citric acid and a fairly potent cough drop. That said, Whoop Ass is a little more punchy and soda-like than say, Red Bull or that Sobe black can crap. The more I drink it, the more it reminds me of an alcoholic version of the bastard child of Fresca, Zima and an old Halls mint. Not that I have tried such a cocktail. No siree.

Overall: A tad bit disappointing, given the cool name and all. But it does feature a great design and has a nice energy kick, even for a hardened caffeine fiend like myself. While my attitude isn’t revitalized and my faith in humanity is still fairly shaky, I probably won’t sleep until four in the morning. Yay Whoop ass!

Rating: Three Caffeine-Induced Bouts of Insomnia out of Five

By the way, for the culinary curious out there, Whoop Ass is still in print and can be bought off the Jones Soda website.

Happy Holidays Friends and Fiends!!!

2009-12-24T16:58:00.000-08:00

Here's to everyone who reads this having a great, peaceful and loving holiday. For those of you with dysfunctional family members, which is about 99% of us, remember that the good lord invented liquor for good reasons. So either way, curl up with a warm glass of something yummy, throw on some Martin Denny holiday music and embrace the fact that a new year is coming.

To keep the festive vibe going, here's my new favorite holiday song, courtesy of musician/drag artist/actress Jackie Beat with the soon-to-be-standard, "Santa's Baby." Enjoy and be safe everybody!

Films with Teeth and Schrapnel: Eurocrime Documentary Needs You!

2009-11-16T09:29:00.000-08:00

Chances are, if you're reading this blog, you have a weakness for all things 70's and Italian. While a good amount of material has been devoted to the Italian horror genre, it's equal but different brother, the action film, has been sorely neglected.

The fine folks behind the upcoming Eurocrime: The Italian Cop and Gangster Films that Ruled the '70's are looking to change that. The film is in post-production and features a slew of great looking interviews with such genre stalwarts as John Saxon, Fred Williamson, Franco Nero, Joe Dallesandro, Chris Mitchum, and many more. There's one hitch though. They are needing some financial backers to help them flesh out the documentary with footage from the very films they are covering. Who wants to see a documentary about Modigliani without seeing any paintings? Exactly.

So if you would like to help out, just click here and learn how you can help get this documentary on a fantastic subgenre finished and released.

...And Now the Screeming Starts!!!

2009-11-10T22:03:00.001-08:00

Yes, I know I've been a very bad blog momma lately. The struggle of balancing career writing, and the ever dreaded day job work was bigger than ever in October. I've been recovering from the aftermath, but hey, it's a new month with plenty of new projects on the horizons.

Want proof? I'd be more than happy to provide,

Exhibit A? The latest issue of the legendary Screem magazine, where you can find my reviews dealing with everything from the Cinema of Transgression to Aleister Crowley to even Al Adamson. (Trio of heroes right there.) Being in Screem is a big thing, since it was one of the very first film mags that helped form the demented cinema lover that I am today. It was their third issue, with the The Beast of Blood cover, that proved to be a huge bright spot in my other wise highly awkward and unhappy junior high girl existence. There was something about that big eyed ghoul beheading himself in stark blood red and cobalt blues that has burned into my brain forever. It was that issue that first turned me on to Something Weird Video and films like Bloodsucking Freaks. I actually used stills from the latter to illustrate our fictional family trees in my 9th grade French class, much to the icked out confusion of my teacher. (I should also mention that I also used a picture of Lydia Lunch for one of my Aunts.)

Over a decade later, the magazine is still going strong and features such strong, notable writers like Greg Goodsell (Angels in Distress) and Shane M. Dallmann, among many others. It's a real joy to be in this issue, featuring one of my all time favorite films, The Phantom of the Paradise. (In fact, I want you to go build a proper shrine to William "Winslow" Finley right now.

Anyways, feel free to pick up the latest Screem, ride the mindway, and keep watching this space for further bits of opinionated but factual bits of cultural esoteric grooviness.

The Strangeness in Me-An Overview of "Feast of Flesh"

2009-10-21T18:31:00.000-07:00

In the Spirit of Halloween, I thought I would post another review from the Vaults. This time around it's a South American treat with a few tricks up its sleeve, all in the form of Emilio Vieyra's exclellent 1967 film "Feast of Flesh." This is one of my earliest reviews ever, dating back to 2003. I still love this film and think it is ripe for rediscovery. It is available on Something Weird's Double Feature DVD with the uber-gory Mexican horror film, "Night of the Bloody Apes." The two were often shown theatrically back-to-back, which must have been a mind blowing combo for any lucky duck that bought a ticket. Moody B&W psychosexual art film paired with a balls out bloodbath, complete with nudity, severed eyeballs, and Mexican wrestlers. (Which I fully endorse all of these elements, by the way.)

Like most writers, it's hard to look at older works and not think about how you would do some things differently, but you have to start somewhere. It's all part of the gig.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this article and have a hauntingly good night!

There are certain films that have all the traditional elements of an exploitation film yet somehow transcend them and transform into something completely different. Emilio Vieyra’s “Placer Sangriento” aka “Feast of Flesh” is an ideal example of this. It has all the markings of a good exploitation film; nudity, promiscuous teens, drugs, a sleazy police inspector, a man sexing up and then killing beautiful young girls while dressed in a monster mask. Hey, as far as I was concerned, it already sounded like a winner! But as I watched it, I realized that to dismiss it as another wonderfully goony exploitation film would not be fair at all.

For starters, it is a visually gorgeous film to watch. The black and white cinematography is wonderfully, especially the shots of the ocean. (In fact these shots are often so stark, that the sea almost becomes a separate character.) Black shadows are ever present throughout, adding to the weird and fitting mixture of murder and melancholy that permeates every scene of the film. The fact that even the gruesome moments of the film look elegant is a real testament to the talent that was working behind “Feast of Flesh.” Even the sunny scenes at the beach feel less frivolous and more unhealthy, which is perfect for a film like this. There is a killer on the loose and the teenagers (some of whom look like they are already well into their twenties), while aware, react by with their standard brand of airy recklessness as if they already know they are doomed. It’s not the usual immature stupidity that plagues most teen characters in horror films (or real life, for that matter.) Granted, none of them come across mature in the film, but as you soon will realize, reality is a questionable thing in this film.

Which is one of the aspects I loved about this film, is that it contains this slightly unsettling, dreamlike air. When I say “dreamlike” I don’t mean a full blood nightmare or pink-cheeked daydream either. Instead the film lies in this shadowy limbo that keeps you curious till the last frame. The music that is played throughout the film certainly enhances this. The score, composed by Victor Buchino, is lush and quite haunting, which is enhanced by the use of ethereal sounding female vocals. Parts of it reminded me of what would have happened if Martin Denny had composed the Dark Shadows theme song.

Then there is the matter of the man-monster. Naturally, the mask hides his identity until the very end of the film, when both his person and all the red herrings that were littered throughout, are revealed. Now with a film like this, where obviously a lot of hard work was spent to establish this surreal atmosphere, having a mask for the killer could make or break the overall tone. If the murderer has a goofy looking mask, it will efficiently kill any real atmosphere that has been painstakingly created. Luckily, this is not a problem in “Feast of Flesh,” since the mask is perfect. Unlike most cinematic killers-in-masks, which tend to be icy in a mechanically predatory way, both the murderer and especially his mask harbor an air of sadness around them.

This effect is a special combination of both the man and the rubber mask. The former clutches his victims (who are often willing, albeit via mind control through the haunting musical compositions) in a passionate yet desperate way. His mask resembles the long face of a lonely old man with a shock of black hair. In fact, he does not feel like the true villain of the film until the very end. If anything, the real villains of the film are the adults. You have the parents who neglect their teen children while shrugging indifferently about their strange behavior. Then you have adults, like Inspector Lauria who attempt to take advantage of them sexually. Not to mention the sheer incompetence of the Inspector and his coworkers at the police station. These men are so amazingly inept at their jobs that they end up inadvertently killing one young lady while using her as a “guinea pig” for the killer. So what do they do after that tragic event? Use another young lady as a guinea pig for the killer! To me, their ineptitude is far scarier than any sadly seductive madman.

The strange human behavior does not end with the killer and habitually inept police force in. Right from the beginning, we are greeted with some bizarre human reactions. For example, the film opens with a young couple making out on the beach at night. They see the killer drive by, dump a half nude body by the side of the road, and then speed off. Here’s a dialogue sample from that scene; “Oh he brought a chick of his own all right.” “Don’t blow your cool.” You know, if I saw someone dump a half nude body, I would probably not be up for some witty repartee unless the spirit of Oscar Wilde somehow possessed my soul that night. Yet, somehow, this does not affect the film’s power at all, since nothing in it feels like it is rooted in realism. To have realistic characters would have demanded a far grittier film that “Feast of Flesh” is.

One of things I did admire about the group of wild teens in the film is that they are very liberal, since their circle of friends includes a gay couple and a lesbian. These characters, while a wee bit stereotypical, are not used for comic relief and are not used as killer fodder. Sure, this may not seem shocking now, but given the time period of this film, it is very impressive to see (Not that film today has advanced that much in terms of non-biased portrayals of minorities.)

For some of you cult film cineastes, some of the cast and direction will look very familiar to you. There’s a very good reason for this, since Vieyra went on to direct “The Curious Dr. Humpp” and two of the main actors, Gloria Pratt (who plays the sexy and naïve “Beba” in this film) and Ricardo Bauleo (who plays the handsome pianist, Silvio), where in both “FoF” and “Curious Dr. Humpp.” Both films even shared the same producer, Orestes Trucco. (Bizarrely enough, Trucco went on to direct the 1982 film “Una Aventura llamada Menudo,” a film about the monstrously huge Puerto Rican boy band, Menudo.)

“Feast of Flesh” is a film that will surprise you with its beauty, darkness, and otherworldly view of reality. If you are up for a strange film that is both arty and a little sleazy, then you must definitely give this film a chance.

This film impressed me so much, that I incorporated clips from it in my very first video collage art piece, entitled "The Eternal Sea." With this video I got to achieve my dream of merging key scenes from the film with Martin Denny's beautiful and haunting song of the same name. Much thanks to my brother from another mother Mark Warren for posting this for me.

Dagwood Goes to Hollywood: An Interview with Paul McGibboney

2009-09-30T19:08:00.000-07:00

Synchronicity. It’s more than just a title of a Police album. (Apologies to all of you Ghost in the Machine fans.) It is one of those intangible quirks of living that can bless us and curse us in the most surprising of ways.

Case in point, a few months ago I conjured up a little tribute piece to one of my favorite films of all time, Rinse Dream’s Café Flesh for one of our biggest local papers, the Little Rock Free Press. A good publication whose vast readerships presumably aren’t too hip towards incredible cult films, especially of the adult variety. Which is exactly why I wrote it. Hey I like to think I do the lord’s work in some weird way.

So when I got an email a few weeks after it hit the stands from one of the main players in the film, you can imagine my shock and awe. The likely hood of Paul McGibboney, the lead hero with the weight of the post-nuclear world on his broad shoulders, finding my piece, reading it, liking it, and hunting me down to tell me was pretty damned slim. Yet I somehow got blessed by the gods of synchronicity and got to interview the man.

Come to find out that he is a fellow Southerner, Texas born and transplanted as a kid to Louisiana. So how exactly did an athletic, Southern kid get into acting?

“I may have been influenced by The Little Rascals features, because I remember my brothers and sister (I’ve got 4 brothers and one sister) and I along with one or two other kids, putting on variety shows in our neighborhood. The adults always made time to watch whatever we kids chose to stage. But, if you wanted to find my brothers and I, on any random day, you just needed to look in the nearest open field or vacant lot and there is where we would be playing full speed tackle football, without pads, with the other blue collar kids in town.

So, it was really no jump for me to become a thespian and play football in school and run track at the same time. Interestingly, though, it really wasn't the fashion in those days (50s & early 60s). I mean most kids were either one or the other (or neither). For me, I played ball because I loved it and I performed because I liked the attention. Then I fell in love with performing. In high school, I actually preached a couple of sermons as part of the youth program at the church I belonged to! These were full sermons! Myself and another guy would alternate each week delivering the hellfire and brimstone. He became an international Evangelist and I became an actor. Same thing in many ways. (laughs) Religious I am not, but there is nothing like the stage! I suspect this is at the root of many of the Bible-Thumping Preachers across America...well that and scratch.”

The acting bug ended up taking a now grown Paul from the South to that great city of tarnish and glitter, Los Angeles. In a country the size of the US, culture shock can be almost inevitable, especially when going from Louisiana to Hell-A.

“It was total culture shock. When I first arrived in Hollywood and would walk up and down Hollywood Blvd., every pimp, panhandler, dope drummer, every kind of street creature would approach me. I might as well have had a neon sign on my forehead, just off the bus. It took me a few months to desensitize myself enough to be left alone. I remember once, I was trucking down the Blvd (Hollywood Blvd, the boulevard of broken dreams), wearing shades and with my head down looking at the names of the stars and dreaming of where I would place mine someday, laughs, and one of those street people guys (in a long raincoat, seriously) stepped in front of me, opened his coat and on one side he had sunglasses pinned to the inside of his coat and the other side “gold” necklaces. He said, You need some sunglasses, brother. I said, I have some brother, I'm wearing them. He said, How 'bout a nice gold chain, the chicks really get off on 'em, brother. I said, Get the fuck away from me, shithead. He yelled, He's a cop! He's a cop! Hide your shit, he's a undercover man! hahaha. It's true. Scared the fuck out of me. I just kept walking at the same speed until I couldn't hear him anymore.

There weren't any people like that on the streets where I came from. Hell, every town had a street drunk (not counting the closet "society page" ones), but they were usually harmless and tended to leave the kiddies alone. I couldn't get over the orange Mohawks, tattoos and piercings (I still have none) and how hip the young people were at very young ages.”

The big issue a lot of creative folks face is how their families are going to handle it them transitioning from 9-5 daywalker to struggling artist. Some are more supportive than others, especially when it comes to said artist having to leave a spouse and kids behind to follow their dreams.

“I think I threw everyone a curve by heading to Hollywood as a husband and father of two toddler sons at age 28. It's just one of those things that only artists understand. I felt I finally needed to give my life long dream a shot, at least, or I would have regretted it forever. It was extremely difficult leaving my family back, but I was naively optimistic that it wouldn't be long until we could all be reunited. It never happened. Subsequently I would fly back for a month in the summer and at Christmas or the best I could. After 6 years, it became increasingly difficult to leave my sons and wife to go back to L.A. until, ultimately, I felt I had to choose to continue my "career" or go home and be a family man. This is fairly typical with a lot of greenhorns with dreams. They become the prey of Hollywood vultures. Of course, not everyone in Hollywood is a vulture...laughs...

I was way better prepared for the journey than some of the kids I met and observed while working out there. I was better prepared because I lost my father at 12 years old and my Irish American brothers and I kind of got in the fast lane and began learning life the hard way...on my own. The streets in L.A. can indeed be mean, particularly to the uninitiated.

Cowboy circa '78

My mom, who has since passed as well, begged me to come back to real life. laughs My sister called me once and asked that I hurry up and make it big because she had seen a guy, whom she hated, from our old neighborhood and he laughed in her face about me when he heard what I was doing. My younger brother was married and he and his wife had moved to New York to pursue similar goals as me, except in Theater. He was the Actor and she the Dancer/Actress. As far as friends and business associates, there were two reactions, Go get 'em, Tiger and What the fuck? Are you fucking crazy?"

Speaking of fucking crazy, some actors prefer the thrill of the live stage while others go for the nuance of the silver screen. It can be a battle between the ham and the subtle. There are the hardy few that develop a taste for both.

“Well, they are two completely different animals, really. I have more theater experience than film and TV, but if I had to choose I would love to make a living in film. It's kind of like your children, you love them all equally and at the same time they are all unique in their own way. There's nothing like the challenge of the stage. The whole process is simultaneously exhausting and exhilarating. Through weeks of rehearsals, you build your character, adding layer after layer until, hopefully, it springs into a life of its own. You take what the writer gives you, and you pull from your own life experiences and your own soul, plus the Director's notes, and a third person is born. Sort of like that, at least in my own experience.

I am a performer that needs direction, the Director is very important to me. I may get attacked by those more knowledgeable than myself, but in my experience there seems to be two basic kinds of Directors, one that has his/her vision placed firmly in their mind as to the way they want the story to flow and cast people to fit this vision. The other type would have the actor’s improv and try all sorts of things to try to root out a character, leaving the actor to create mostly his or her vision of the material.

Some of the more exciting plays I performed in at the Hollywood Actors Theater (H.A.T) were ensemble pieces. The Boys In The Band By Mort Crowley, which won a Tony on Broadway, and In The Boom Boom Room were the two Los Angeles Premiers that I had leads in. A third was Subway Incident '69, which was the stage version of a Live Teleplay back in the early 60's, which then became a film, as did Boys In The Band. I had to literally convince the Head of the Theater group, Ron Bastone, to let me even audition for Boys In The Band as it is about a group of gay men having a private party which turns ugly. Big deal. But back when it was first produced on Broadway, it WAS a big deal. It was the first time Americans got a look at the private world of gay men. Ron laughed his ass of when I was begging him to at least let me read for it, declaring, "If there's anyone in this Theater Troupe that isn't right for ‘Boys it's you’.

Well shit like that there just gets me more juiced so I got my mojo workin' and got in to read and landed one of the two leads, Donald, to great reviews. I got to meet the Writer Mort Crowley at our after-the-show hangout, Two Guys From Italy Restaurant and Bar, who told me I was the only person he ever saw play Donald the way he had Donald envisioned in his mind. That's the stuff Actors live for; to be legitimized by key people in your industry keeps you going to say the least. At that time, he was co-Directing the TV series Hart To Hart and invited me to call his office to come in for a reading.

In The Boom Boom Room by David Rabe is a dark play about abuse, physical and mental, and offered me the most challenging role for 1982, maybe of all I have ever done. I played Big Al Royce (don't ya just love that name), which was played in the New York Premier by Christopher Lloyd. Coincidently, the open cattle call for Big Al, brought in over 1500 Actors, it eventually got down to me and Richard Belzer. I got the role, he got famous...laughs. As you know, he also has a Cameo role in Cafe Flesh.

Two cool dudes-
Paul & Jerry McAffee in David Rabe's play "In the Boom Boom Room"

Big Al is a violent ex-con who has a psychotic acid-head sidekick name Ralphie. He meets up with the leading lady of the show, Chrissie played by Sandi MacGregor, an incredible (but aloof) actress from Australia, in a strip joint in the play. After hooking up with her, their relationship becomes part of the abuse in the play. In fact, our version of the piece had Big Al beating her to death at the very end of the final Act. You know, it makes for a scary curtain call with a final scene like that. laughs This is truly an Actors type of play, but beware if you're thinking of staging it...ANYWHERE. It requires a high level of performance from every character. This is when I met and got to work with the fabulous Julie Newmar! She played the dance captain at the club where Chrissie strips in The Boom Boom Room. God, she's so beautiful (even now) and graceful, a really sensitive (but tough) lady, it took me a couple of weeks to get used to being in her presence. All I could think of was the woody I had every time I would see her as Cat Woman on the Batman TV series...laughs...seriously. Then to actually work with her was just another exciting moment in my life.

Ron Bastone directed Boom Boom and Subway Incident '69. I loved that guy. He and his son, Dondi Bastone, became close friends of mine. Coincidently, Dondi's two best friends were Anthony and Flea in the Red Hot Chili Peppers. At the time he and I shared a house and I got to know them pretty well. I know they got a kick out of me being from Louisiana and all, but I am glad to have gotten to know them before they were famous. They played here in my town one time a while back, and I thought about trying to get in to see them, but changed my mind just in case they might say "Paul Who"? laughs (Writer’s Note: Dondi went on to play Nick’s best friend, Spike in Café Flesh. Small world, eh?)

Bastone employed a very unique and ahead of its time Electronic Theater technique in Subway. The cutting edge back then was videotape, and Bastone shot scenes with all the characters dialogue in various parts of New York right up until the moment they enter the Subway on stage. We had a big screen (for then) TV mounted on either side of the stage and it really created drama to hear the sound effects of the subway screeching to a halt and as the curtains open the Subway seems to be moving and coming to a halt, but in actuality the actors were on a moving platform and it gave the illusion of the subway moving and coming to a halt. Radically cool Theater, I must say. Director Bastone also had all the actors constantly moving as if we were on a real train and we had to rehearse which direction each our bodies would lean as the train came to a halt. That added another layer of realism to a brisk and comparably short stage play. The play was based on a true-life incident that happened in on a subway in NY. Two punks jam the doors and terrorize the people on the train. This play, if staged correctly, would be relevant even today for obvious reasons.” (Writer’s Note-This play was the basis for the excellent 60’s B&W film, The Incident, starring Martin Sheen and Tony Musante. And yes, Mr. McGibboney would have been awesome in it.)

Café Flesh is that rare bird that intertwines the worlds of science fiction and adult film seamlessly into one amazing and melancholy world. It’s new wave noir that is highlighted by Dream’s (aka Stephen Sayadian) and Herbert W. Day’s (aka Jerry Stahl) talent with both dialogue and casting. Given what an unusual film it is, I asked Paul how exactly he ended up in such a thing.

“It was during the run of Subway Incident '69 that I mentioned earlier. A still relevant ensemble piece in which I played a Marine soldier home on leave who is taking in some sights in the Big Apple with a boot camp buddy from New York. During a ride on the subway, a couple of punks jam up the subway doors and begin to terrorize the people on the train. This was based on a true story, and the film version starred many names including Beau Bridges who played the same role that I played Felix Teflinger.

Felix becomes increasingly disturbed that nobody on the subway car, several men, women, and a baby (played by a doll to avoid intermittent crying and diaper changing), including his Marine buddy, not only weren't trying to stop the punks, but cowering to them. Even though the two punks showed no weapons. Felix, being a Southern dude, is seriously freaked by the lack of folks stepping up to the plate and nailing the little shits. Well, eventually HE does. The play ends with Felix, sporting a couple of knife wounds and asking the subway occupants, What kinda people are you? As plays go, this one was relatively short, just over an hour I think, but it was crisp, well acted, and the drama built so well, that one night we had a guy in the audience leap onto the stage to assist Felix as he opened his can of Southern whoopass on the two punks! Great stuff. So, anyway, one night Mr. Steve Sayadian appeared in response to the great reviews the play was getting and sent word backstage afterward that he wanted to see me, could we set up a meeting. I told the stage manager to let him in my dressing room if he was still in the Theater, and he was, so he came back. He said he had a big part in an unusual film that he would like me to play if I was interested. He said that he needed an actor who could capture a certain simpatico and that he saw what he was looking for in me in my role as Felix and wanted me to be in his film, Cafe Flesh. Cafe Flesh? I thought, sounds really gory, like Texas Chainsaw Massacre or something. So, he handed me the script and asked me to read it and call him with my thoughts about doing the movie and exited my dressing room. I think I still have that script somewhere, or at least pieces of it.

After reading the script, I thought, WTF? What the...I'm not sure I get this, it seems like sci-fi, but SEX NEGATIVES and SEX POSITIVES sitting around an underground cafe after the nuclear kiss watching people do the dirty hula? Is this porno? Is this avant-garde, is this film noir, is this some kind of art experiment...WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS THING??? It turns out, it's all those things, but at that time, at that moment, it felt to me like Killer Tomatoes. I mean it just sounded too weird on paper for me. In that original script, my character takes a bowie knife and not so surgically, removes his favorite male appendage. I'm extremely liberal but there's was no way I was going to do a film where I become some sort of a self-inflicted eunuch. I turned it down. So, I called Steve, and not allowing me to argue with him, he said he would rewrite the ending and get back to me. The rewrite had Nick hanging himself above the bed as Lana (legendary cult film actress and glamour model Michelle Bauer aka Pia Snow) shivers through multiple orgasms with some super-stud Johnny Rico (the late Kevin James, who was also in the Sayadian produced, Nightdreams) at Cafe Flesh. I turned him down again and figured he would just get bored with my ridiculous attitude and get someone else. Not Steve, apparently he really wanted me to do this film so he told me I COULD WRITE THE ENDING, and that he had added a great sort of Escape From New York type exterior scene where Nick goes after the sex police that have arrested the character Angel (played by Marie Sharp) I didn't really trust this little guy to be honest, but those two things, and the fact that I had just got evicted (starving actors get evicted frequently) and Steve said he would pay me in cash, well...I finally said yes.”

Negative Sex with Sex Negatives: Paul and Pia Snow (aka Michelle Bauer)

Nick, perhaps other than Max Melodramatic (more on him in a minute), is one of the most complicated characters in Café Flesh. While unlike guys like Max, he has true love in the form of his girlfriend Lana, he has been robbed of physical love by a war he didn’t start and certainly did not ask for. Voyeurism is a poor substitute for sex but it’s the only one he has and if there was ever a self-loathing junkie, it is Nick. Playing such a role, especially one that serves as the bleak yet moral lynchpin of the movie, but Paul pulls it off to the point that one cannot imagine anyone else in that role.

“Film acting is completely different than stage acting and at that time I was involved 100% in stage acting. So, right off the bat I had to make the adjustment from stage to screen. Screen acting is much more subtle in many ways, ask Clint Eastwood, who early in his career, barely even talked at all in his spaghetti westerns and those have become classics. (Writer’s Note: Having Sergio Leone didn’t hurt. Not to take anything away from ole ironsides Clint.) The scary thing for me is that I am an actor that needs direction. I need the Director at times to figuratively reach down inside me and pull it out. I take direction very well, but my mind is so, I don't know, scattered, laughs. I think of too many things at a time and I have to check myself on a regular basis to keep from rambling and drifting. I'm sure it has to do with gray matter losses that I contribute to my youthful search for truth at which time I may have experimented in different ways, including inserting paper acid under my headband at concerts, like the Allman Brothers, Ten Years After, The Rolling Stones, Johnny and Edgar Winter, etc.

Steve Sayadian said to me on the set that he thought I might know more about acting than he and left me to direct myself. As I have explained, this struck some fear into me as an artist that needs a certain amount of guidance and illumination. I had to make some quick choices and here was one of the major differences in having to do a character with NO rehearsal, AND not knowing the actress I was playing opposite. Trusting in each other’s ability is huge in acting. Usually in a play and major films you have generally six weeks to rehearse and build a character. I showed up for this film only to find that I am on my own and there might be a million directions I could take it and we're gonna do it right now, Hoss. So I say to myself, WTF am I gonna do with this deal? I started thinking, and remembered I am in the prime of my own real life and I starting thinking WHAT IF. What If...I...suddenly...without ANY warning...was robbed of one the most important and enjoyable forms of human communication...fucking. What If I suddenly couldn't do the hot whirling dervish at will. Depending on if there was an available person who would let me dervishly whirl them? What If? You know, that would really piss me off. It was something I was good at, that is to say, acquiring female partners to skip the horizontal light fandango. So I chose to feel deep anger and resentment capped with the realization that I, Nick, was helpless to do anything at all about it. Massive reasons to roll up into a big ball...and die.”
Pulling off any film successfully is very much dependent on the relationship and vibe of cast and crew. A shoot can be either a pleasant day or something that’s the mental and physical equivalent to 120 Days of Sodom, minus the smiles. How a cast and crew get along is especially vital when it comes to independent cinema.

“I have to say that from the moment I went to that building on Hollywood Blvd to shoot this film, that I tried so hard to get out of doing, I may as well have taken a rocket ship to Mars and discovered life there...humans, yes, but humans...unlike me. Unlike me, Joe Heartland recently off the turnip truck...humans from another planet. But, I mean that in an endearing way. But they were all respectful and courteous and helpful and it worked out great. The truth is, most of, if not all, of the extras in this film, were people off the street and people living in halfway houses. I’m sure Steve Sayadian knew each and every one of them on some level. You will find that geniuses have a vast scale, a wide range of friendships. Geniuses may show up today with the Queen of England and tomorrow with that guy that sleeps in the alley near his pad. I can identify with that, though I am no genius, I have always liked people that challenge me in some way, on some level, or just interest me, wherever they come from or their station in life, as opposed to the birds of the feather flock together crowd.

So my interest went very high as I looked around at the cast and crew, some of which I am sure were very high as well. I got even more excited after meeting and talking with Michelle Bauer and I'll tell you why. I had never met a porno queen before. At first, we made small talk like everyone does and then a question and answer period between each other, a sort what do you think about the script, etc. Somewhere in there I began to realize that this woman was not dumb, that she was not only very smart, but that she had a certain charisma and I felt a sort of relief come over me because then I knew that I had something to work with and maybe I might find even myself needing to work up to HER level. She indicated that she had been a Penthouse centerfold. Anyway, she whipped out a copy, which she just happened to have with her, and showed it to me. And, well, pardon me, but this just doesn't happen to most fellas every day. I mean, the girl IN the centerfold, the girl that IS the centerfold showing you a copy of her hot naked self, IN PERSON. Ok, yeah, my heartbeat did increase a bit, in vivid terms, I felt my chest rip itself open and my heart leap out and slam itself up and down on the floor, I became momentarily speechless.

More than good looks: Michelle Bauer as Lana

Smiling, but still, for a moment, I didn't know what to say. That's a great picture, I eeked out after clearing my throat. I will never know to this day whether she was clever enough to try to motivate my character to her character, or if she was just proud of her centerfold status, or both or neither. But then it hit me, that's it dude, that's it! How nice it would be to have a centerfold as your partner in life! It gave me the motivation I needed because then (as Nick) all I could think about was wrasslin' nekkid with Lana...but I couldn’t. I was definitely impressed with Michelle Bauer and her work.”

One of the most compelling dynamics in Café Flesh is the interaction between Max Melodramatic (the unforgettable Andrew Nichols) and Nick. They both are the heart of the film, with Max being the cynical, acid-tongued, bizarre Greek chorus of sorts and Nick being your heavy but good hearted hero. These are two men who were robbed of the capability of physical love by the war, in very different ways. It’s a case of the haunting and the haunted, but the real question is which is which?

One of the most haunting scenes in "Cafe Flesh."-Max delights
in Nick's pain.

“We had neither seen nor heard of each other prior to this film. We ‘ran lines’ a couple of times to make sure we had the dialogue down, but the acting was done on screen with no real rehearsal. I have been around, and worked with many talented people and all them have their own ways of preparing for their work. I have worked with actors that stay in character 24/7 until the end of the run. Quite frankly, it's very bizarre having an off stage or off screen conversation with someone when they are in their character's zone.

For example, I once interviewed, back when I was a Radio DJ, the person representing Disney as Snow White. She was in town promoting the Disney Ice Show and was doing publicity in the local media. So, our live radio interview ended and I thanked her. We made small talk while she was waiting for her person to come back in the control room and get her. I couldn't help but notice that she stayed in character as we were casually talking. So, I began to question her about that, and she answered me by insisting that she really was Snow White and worked for Mr. Disney her creator, etc. etc. Well, I couldn't get over that. I was still pretty young and my mischievous side unexpectedly took control out of nowhere. I fought it, but, it overpowered me and suddenly I blurted out, like I had tourrettes, Well, like what would happen if I were to, say...PINCH YOUR ASS? There was one of those incredibly awkward moments when time seems to stand still and you feel as if you might implode and I expected her head to start spinning around and around spewing hot green slimy vomit like Linda Blair. But just then, I think I saw her just about to break character and crack up, when her handler entered the control room. As they left she glanced back and winked at me. If I would have had about five more minutes with her, there might have been eight dwarfs instead of seven.

The reason I told you that story is because I didn't know Andrew Nichols at all, and the time I was around him, during the shoot, he seemed a lot like his character, Max, off screen. It was sort of what it might be like to be around Robin Williams I think, you didn't know what to expect, very, very entertaining, but there was this edge he had with me also. Like he might be trying to intimidate me, not so much in a bad way, just to see if he could. It was a subtle thing, but it was there. I realized later that he was paralleling his character, or possibly staying IN character and that was his method, his actor's MO, trying to get to me, just like Max is trying to get to Nick in the film.

The Cafe's Master of Ceremonies-
Andy Nichols as the unforgettable Max Melodramatic

This whole thing was done in about ten days; most of my takes were first takes. Had I known the eventual success of this film I would have pushed for a few takes for each scene. This was an Independent film shot on a shoestring budget. There were no contracts, just cash in an envelope. SOMEBODY has made, and is STILL making, a lot of money off Cafe Flesh, but it ain't me...damn it. (Writer’s Note: its more than likely VCA, with their poor DVD release of this great film, are the main ones making any mint from it. It’s doubtful that anyone associated with the film is making anything substantial, which is a crime. Can someone release this film proper and truly uncut?)

Café Flesh, despite some of the odds against it, like having a low budget, explicit sexuality, and being completely unlike anything else, was released to critical acclaim. Yet despite this, to this day you have folks who are scared away from it just because of the unsimulated sex element. (Funny how true crime is more acceptable of a genre than anything with hardcore sex. Lenny Bruce was right in oh so many ways.) These things can be even stickier when it comes to the reactions of friends and family.

“That was my first shock on this film really...the attention and positive reviews it initially received. Everyone from America's Foremost Casting Newspaper, The Hollywood Drama-Logue, to the prestigious and most famous Industry bullhorn, Variety, legitimizing it instantly. Shockingly, Variety called me a ‘James Dean-like’ character! Wow, that totally blew me away, no kidding. I've been looking at me in the mirror for 59 years and I never saw James Dean there. My personal feelings are that Andrew Nichols and Michelle Bauer carried this film for the most part, but I hope my modest contribution added another layer to it. Cafe Flesh was eventually rated as the number one film of it's kind...ever, and that thrust it into the category of Cult Classic forever. Whether you think it belongs with Killer Tomatoes or has a place in film noir history, it has been immortalized for eternity. Water seeks its own level and though there are people out there that trash this film, the fan base has done nothing but grow and grow as the years go by. I'm sure right wing nuts and religious zealots find it less than viewable (as they view it over and over and over), but I take that as an endorsement. I’ve heard it was Hunter Thompson's favorite film and that's good enough for me. I'm not ashamed of having been in this film, and my kids already know this, but for the record, I wasn't involved in any of the hard-core parts of the film. Nobody ever believes me when I tell them that I requested attending one of those shoots. Sayadian said, uh, no, that's a closed-set shoot, because I was trying to learn filmmaking from behind the camera and I didn't care WHAT was in the lens, just so long as I could learn something. I guess I wouldn't believe me either, so fuck it.

Paul's Headshot

For the others involved in the making of the film, I really don't know what they thought about it. I do remember that we went to the Premier showing at a movie theater in L.A. (I can't remember which one, but it was huge), IN COSTUME, and stayed in the lobby during the showing. Nobody really paid us much attention going into see the film (we didn't look out of the ordinary being in Hollywood laughs), but it was a kick in the head following, giving autographs and pics with people and all that other Hollywood stuff. I actually saw Cafe Flesh here in Louisiana, in the city where I live now, right in the middle of Cajun country, at a mall theater! A friend called me and told me it was showing (a midnight showing, along with Rocky Horror Picture Show) and I thought he was foolin' me, but he wasn't, so, we got up a crowd of close friends and went to the mall to check it out. I couldn't believe it, the lines stretched into the mall parking lot! Seriously. My sadistic friends needled me into going up to the theater manager to tell him I was in the film in a primary role, so after three or four seconds of prompting, I...reluctantly...did, and his reaction was, Get back in line. laughs”
In addition to Café Flesh, Paul has also worked on a number of other independent films. Big budget filmmaking may get all the mainstream press, but it is the Indies that always has the best stories behind them.

“I somehow, landed three or four lines in an Independent film with the working title Running Together. It was being shot at the Joshua Tree in California, about 300 miles, I think, outside L.A. It's a familiar place to a lot of people in the film business. There have been countless films shot in that area over the history of Hollywood, so I was thinking on the drive over there how cool it was that I would always be able to say, oh, yeah, I did a shoot there too. The film was about two female parolees who find themselves on Highway 101. On their way, they see a good looking guy in a tuxedo hitchhiking, so naturally, like any two parolee Gidgets would do, they pull over and gave him a ride. I don't know why he was in a Tuxedo or why he was hitchhiking, but it turns out he’s a diamond thief on the lam, who stashes his stolen diamonds in one of the chicks' purse. The girls find themselves in a country bar in the desert and end up getting arrested for what ensues, so they call their pimp back in New York to come bail them out of jail and they go right back to the bar. Which is where my part came in.

The bar is inhabited by two types of rednecks, ‘rowdies’ (Californianese for cowboy) and ‘Hard Hats’ (construction workers). Everything is hunky-dory at quittin' time, but inevitably, after a few pitchers of beer, the tough-guy substitute for sex, a barroom brawl breaks out. The lines I had became irrelevant to me when I overheard the stunt-coordinator complaining that he was one man short. The barroom brawl type scene is choreographed in such a way that it has to be done THAT way or it won't work and being a man short is like a football team having a one-legged place kicker. The stunt man that was scheduled for that particular fight bit, had since gotten a gig on a major feature and didn't show for this less paying Indie film. I don't want to reveal any business secrets, but Union people in film often change their names to get extra jobs on the side in Indies for cash, which is why I am not mentioning any names in this story, laughs. It's the American way!

So I stood up and said, hey I can do it, I can do the fight scene. Total quietness fell for a few seconds, but then the stunt co-coordinator sauntered over with a wry smile on his face, Aren't you one of the Day Players? I said, yeah, but before that I played football and boxed a little bit, I can handle it. He slammed my shoulders with both his hands, then punched me pretty good right in my mid-section. I'm not going to lie, it hurt like sonofabitch, but I knew better than to let on, so after a pause I said, steely-eyed, is that your best shot? A collective uproarious laughter came from the other stunt men followed by the rest of the crew, and the game was on.

In the bar there was a three-foot tier and in the film it separates the Rowdies from the Hard Hats until the nightly fight starts. I was already cast as a rowdy (wearing my own bull-riders cowboy hat) so some time during the fight, I'm sitting at a table and I look at the Hard Hat sitting at the table opposite me, separated by the tier, and he looks at me, and we both stand up simultaneously. Except he keeps going up as he is about 6 foot nine, and I am 5 foot 10. As my characters' face indicates I might be in "over my head", Hard Hatzilla picks me up by my shirt, pulls me over the three foot tier, and slams me down on my back on the barroom table. This was a low-budget film and they apparently couldn't afford breakaway tables. But this big guy was a real pro, and he slammed me in such a way that it didn't really hurt. He had my shirt tight in his car-engine-sized-fists and sort of pulled back as my body hit the table, actually breaking my fall. Later, I wound up partying with the stunt men, and became friends with a couple of them. I'm fond of that memory because THE most respected people on the set, other than the ones you HAVE to respect are the stunt men. Just another day at the adventure office.”

Being an artist AND a parent can be two weird worlds, often dooming you to either “cool dad status” or to traveling ghost figure who pops up randomly to say hi. Despite his tenure in the industry, Paul managed to be in the former, a status he very much enjoys to this day.

“ My kids are the reason I left California, and I am glad that I did because now I have a daughter that I did not have then. I actually had a chance to sign with a very big agency (which shall remain nameless because the agent that wanted to sign me has probably expired from old age anyway) a week before I left Hollywood. This is something I have discussed with each of them to let them know that they are far more important to me that anything else and that I would never change that decision even if I could. My oldest son sings in two different bands, mostly in and around the New Orleans area. They have even appeared at the famed House of Blues in the French Quarter! He is also a chef and can cook his ass off. My second son has a degree in Journalism and a Master's in English, and is the online editor for a large market Newspaper. He has the most incredible encyclopedic mind you will ever find. Ask him a question and he'll give you an hour's worth of info. His dream is to one day have his own political satire magazine. My daughter, the youngest, is now a freshman in college and majoring in political science. Yes, we are very politically motivated. It ain't easy being Lefties in Deep South Louisiana. I cannot overstate that. But, somebody has to educate the unenlightened and I'm not that shy.

Still kicking ass-Paul in 2009

My kids are lucky, even when my two sons were toddlers, when I was away chasing the celluloid ring, they had Mom and Grandpa and Grandma and two old maid Aunts to fuss over them. So they have had a really good family structure. They are all gone now, except for their mom, who probably wishes I was gone...laughs. If it weren't for their mother, my first and second wife (we were married-divorced-and remarried), I would probably be emceeing a stripper act in a seedy Hollywood cabaret or something. She's the real anchor in this family and I owe her for it.” As for the future, things are looking better and better for this character actor, especially residing in the boot of the South. “Hey, the film industry is burgeoning here due to the fact that the state lets film makers work tax free. That can save millions! We've got several TV shows being done down here as well, including a sci-fi series right here in my town. So I have plans to acquire representation for starters. I am in the process of auditioning for Big Brother, the TV show right now. I'm not above doing one or two of those ‘near’ celebrity reality shows either. At my age, it's all a great adventure. I don't really need to win the contest; it's the competing that counts, eh? Life is the adventure you make it.”

Indeed.

I cannot thank Paul enough for granting me such an awesome and in-depth interview. I could not have asked for a nicer or easy to work with interviewee. Feel free to visit his very visual Myspace page and let him know that he rocks.

*By the way, if anyone out there has either the uncut or softcore copy of Cafe Flesh, please feel free to contact me!

The Elvira 1986 Halloween MTV Special-The Music Video Review Edition-Part One

2009-08-18T20:34:00.000-07:00

Halloween has always been my Christmas. That’s not to knock winter holiday celebrations of any stripe, whether you are celebrating the birth of Jesus, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, or simply, the great cult of Claus. But Halloween has always resonated the strongest with me. The combination of plastic skeletons, cheap costumes, free candy, and the overall haunting ambiance of the latter Autumnal days was and will always be a lethal combination for me. The sight of jack-o-lanterns still sends me into a schoolgirl like place of giddiness. (Not to mention my husband and I got engaged around Halloween.)

As a wee one, I also had an instant love of all things horror and camp. Together or separate, I love it all. So it was a natural thing for me to immediately glom on to the Mistress of the Dark herself, Elvira. Gorgeous, vampy, and a total smartass, she had all the marks of an early role model for little me. (Right along with David Lee Roth and Booger from “Revenge of the Nerds.” Yes, I was a weird little kid.) Truth is, I still love Elvira. In fact she practically looks the same now as she did when she hosted MTV’s three-hour plus Halloween special back in 1986.

Yes children, there was a time when MTV actually played music videos. I’m sure there is a generation of kids now that probably think that is a myth, but yes there was a time when instead of fake reality shows featuring the blandest rich white people this side of Gwyneth Paltrow, they showed musicians showcasing their sonic wares in a visual format.

Now one of the things people tend to gloss over about “the golden age” of MTV is that even when it was good, it was never that great. It was more often than not a sea of mediocre to decent videos by artists like Huey Lewis and the News, Lioneld Richie, Michael Jackson, Bon Jovi, Madonna, and the rest of their ilk being put on an endless loop. Every so often you got to see something legitimately good but it was like mining for diamonds. To this day, I still get twitchy when I hear the opening strains of Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” because they played it so frigging much. And I love Peter Gabriel! Don’t even get me started on Phil Collins.

Anyways, I digress. When I get my mitts on this special recently, I had no idea what the video selection would be. I knew I could count on the interstitial bits with Elvira being cute and funny, so there was at least that. But MTV’s play list was always a crapshoot, so I had no real idea of what I would be in for. My fears of a crappy music video fest were quickly put to rest by the surprisingly diverse mix of videos. Well for the most part. Let’s examine this, shall we?

Siouxsie & the Volcano-An Image from "Cities in Dust"

The proceedings immediately bode well, as they begin with Siouxsie & the Banshees “Cities in Dust.” From their excellent album “Tinderbox,” the song itself is about destruction of Pompeii from the volcano Mount Vesuvius. The video mirrors this in a very dark but lovely way, thanks to director Tim Pope, whom fittingly directed a good chunk of the Cure’s videography. Oddly enough this song was the first single of theirs to be released in the US. It’s a beautiful video for a haunting song.

Lost son of Lux Interior and David Bowie? No, it's just Peter Murphy from Bauhaus!

Speaking of now legendary post-punk bands, things go from good to great with Bauhaus’s “Bela Lugosi’s Dead.” I love Bauhaus the way other people love their kids. Along with the Cramps, The Damned, Wall of Voodoo, and Blue Oyster Cult, Bauhaus has always been a band that I can listen to any time of the day and never ever tire of. Like the perfect meal, they always hit the right spot. “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” is now considered a Goth rock classic and for good reason. It is a cacophony of mood, rock, and guignol ambiance that results in the best kind of epic. Unfortunately we don’t get the full 9-minute track, but instead a severely truncated version featuring footage from the Tony Scott vampire film The Hunger. So you get plenty of Catherine Deneuve, David Bowie, a young Ann Magnuson as a red haired punkette, and singer Peter Murphy looking like the offspring of Lux Interior by way of Hammer Horror. (In other words, awesome!) Hearing this song cut up like this does not come even close to satiating the average Bauhaus fan but it should be enough of a taster for the uninitiated.

Ghoul in waiting

Didn’t think this could kick any more ass? Then you would be wrong because after that we get The Damned with “Plan 9, Channel 7.” This ode to Ed Wood’s cult classic Plan 9 from Outer Space and in particular, its eternally gorgeous star, Vampira, is one of the band’s best and still a fan favorite. The video is typical Damned, mixing cheeky humor and some seriously great music, though the sentiment is genuine. Parts of the video feature Vanian pining for a gorgeous Vampira-esque ghoul while the rest of the band ham it up, especially the impish Algy Ward and the ever-lovable Captain Sensible. It ends the way any great video should…. with equipment on fire and musicians going batshit. Eat that “Thriller!”

The greatest punk band ever-The Damned

Up next is a band that makes total sense for this sort of special, which is none other than Oingo Boingo with “Weird Science.” This song, as well as the movie with the same name, was huge at the time. It’s a cute movie but this song has frankly never done a whole lot for me. There are much worse songs from the time period but this is pretty weak for an incredible band like Oingo Boingo. I personally would have gone for “Nothing Bad Ever Happens to Me” which is an infinitely better song and a more typical Boingo-esque video featuring surrealist imagery, hula girls, skeletons getting stabbed, a head on a platter, and a little person dressed up as a baby. What’s cooler, that or a bunch of girls painted silver and Kelly LeBrock looking like a failed member of Expose? You be the judge.

Danny wishing he was in a better video

After that we get Ozzy Osbourne’s classic werewolf rocker, “Bark at the Moon.” The video is well made and we’re treated to a whole Jekyll/Hyde twist with Ozzy playing a Victorian mad scientist who has created a lycanthropic beast that may or may not be the man himself. There’s lot of great shots of the Ozzman hamming it up, horror movie style, which is perfect for the season. The song is the title track from Ozzy’s 1983 album, which was his first without later guitar maverick Randy Rhoads. Even though former Black Oak Arkansas and Thin Lizzy drummer Tommy Aldridge is on the studio version of this song, it’s ex-Vanilla Fudge and every other rock band in history drummer Carmine Appice in the video. (I would recognize that Guido-stache anywhere.)

Ladies and Gentlemen...the Guido-stache!

One of the cool things about this special is that there are a few artists here that don’t totally fit into the Halloween theme. Luis Cardenas’s “Runaway” is definitely one of them. Yes, it’s that “Runaway,” the Del Shannon hit. Cardenas has the distinction of being a drummer and a singer and was once a member of the rock band Renegade. The cover is decent enough, despite that tinny production quality that plagued a number of rock-pop artists. Now none of that is scary at all. Hell, the video is not scary either, but dammit, it has DINOSAURS. I’m talking big Claymation dinosaurs playing electric guitars and rocking out! No matter what your opinion is on this song, you should never deny the fact that dinosaurs are like ranch dressing…they make everything better.

Dinos rule!

While dinosaurs aren’t really scary, they are huge creatures with sharp teeth, so it sort of makes sense to have it here. However showing video for The Cure’s “In Between Days” doesn’t. Yes The Cure are considered to by some to be the ultimate Goth band, but they were not always on the dark side of that genre. Certainly not here, given the fact that this is one of band’s sunnier sounding songs. The only thing that makes it halfway Halloweenie is the part of the video where it looks like Robert Smith has Day-Glo eyes. Oooky spooky. It’s a stretch, though I love The Cure and Tim Pope’s stuff always looks good.

Liquid Sky-lite

Thankfully the next video is completely appropriate and is one of the best out of the whole special. Directed by Jon Poll, it’s “Hollywood Halloween” by Paul Broucek is a catchy tune with a weird, almost melancholy vibe. The video is comprised of Super 8 footage of a wild assortment of devilish and flat out weird characters in Hollywood on Halloween. (Fittingly enough.) This entry is unique due to the fact that this song, as far as I know, has never been released commercially. Broucek is a successful musician, but more in the field of Hollywood films, including The Golden Compass (2007) and A History of Violence (2005.) Jon Poll has also gone on to have some success in H-wood, doing editing work on Scary Movie 3 (2003) and co-producing Bruno (2009).

Yum!

In a cool twist, after that we have LA death rock band Kommunity FK’s “Something Inside of Me Has Died.” The video is gorgeous, at times looking like a European 20’s and 30’s film. If I knew nothing about the band, I would have guessed that they were from Europe. Whoever directed this video knew exactly what they were doing because this is beautifully made. The song itself at first seems like a decent gloomy dark-rock dirge, but it does grow on you. Good moody music created by some beautiful, china-doll like musicians.

Drama club gone rogue!

Patrick Mata, lead singer of Kommunity FK, who was a big influence on such artists like Perry Farrell.

Such a pretty video.

Speaking of awesomely made, atmospheric videos, we have Landscape’s “Norman Bates.” There was no other band really like Landscape at the time and this song is a good example of that. A band that has ties to such equally cool and diverse bands as Shock and Shriekback, it was a given that they were bound to stand out. The song is movie soundtrack worthy with a great video to match. There are some nice English twists to the Hitchcock classic, featuring a large stone estate and “mother” being the lead singer with a crocheted blanket around his face. The camera work is fab and the girl playing the Janet Leigh type role looks A LOT like the actress. To the point where at first I thought they had inserted clips from the movie into the video. A+ all the way.

Great shot from "Norman Bates."

Did I mention that Landscape did an album called “From the Tea-Rooms of Mars…to the Hell Holes of Uranus?” This band is officially badass.

Surrealism, ala Goude.

Continuing on in the vein of badass, we get “Slave to the Rhythm” by the one and only Grace Jones. This is one of the videos that doesn’t really fit into the whole Halloween theme but it is so compellingly strange and mind-blowing that it’s great to see regardless. Jones needs no introduction other than she is the living definition of an Amazonian Goddess that everyone should bow down to. All of the fantastic visuals are courtesy of Jean Paul Goude, who was Grace’s lover and creative collaborator for years. Interestingly enough, almost all of the clips are culled from Goude’s various commercial work in Europe. For you eagle eyed viewers out there, you will spot one of the dancers running around with a tray of Orangina bottles. Having had Orangina, I would be running the hell away from them. That drink is an assault to the fine reputation of Oranges.

Trust me, it's not as good as it looks.

There is nothing that can properly follow that up, but I will never turn down a little Iron Maiden, especially when it is “Wasted Years.” The song is great and one of my favorites by them, though it is too bad the video is nothing but still images edited together with some bland footage of the band hanging out and playing. Then again Maiden is one of those bands whose epic music rarely matched their music videos. The sole exception would be the clip for “Can I Play With Madness” featuring Graham Chapman trying not to play with madness. Too bad that came out around a year after this special aired.

Great band, boring video.

The disappointing video blues are soon saved by the highly underrated Lords of the New Church with “Dance with Me.” The combination of the Lords and visionary director Derek Jarman (Jubilee, The Tempest) proves to be an inspired one as we have key visual triggers (fire in various forms, innocence running and lost) and one sinister-sexual juju man in the form of the late, great Stiv Bators. The song is great too, with it being the classic Lords mix of crunch guitars with a post-punk flourish. For those of you not in the know, the Lords were a super group comprising of Stiv (the Dead Boys), Brian James (The Damned), Dave Tregunna (Sham 69) and Nicky Turner (The Barracudas). In short, the Lords of the New Church were a truly great band who never did a shitty song ever. We love the Lords.

Only Derek Jarman could provide such an image. He will be missed.

C'mere baby!

In the spirit of super groups, after that we get Strange Party with the catchy and funky “Imitators.” Now this is not scary, sinister, spooky, Halloweenie at all, save for a brief shot of someone with a knife, but it is a helluva lot of fun. Not to mention this was one of the few, if only times this bad boy ever got airplay on MTV. Strange Party was mix of who’s who’s in the NYC art/theater/music scene in the early 80’s The band was comprised of George Elliot, Page Wood, Joey Arias, Tony Frere, Ann Magnuson, just to name a few! The video is a wholly successful experiment with video editing and composition. More current video directors need to watch this and other early video and soak up the pioneering spirit. There are a few famous imitators with my personal faves being Joey Arias as a surprisingly sexy Dali and Magnuson as a beatific Gala. Maybe it’s because I am so used to seeing Arias in drag (he does a helluva Billie Holliday by the way), but he really rocks the handlebar mustache. Not since David Lochary has a man looked so handsome with such facial hair.

Joey Arias or Dali?

New wave shadows in "Imitators."

They can’t all be winners, so up next we have the Eurythmics and their song, “Missionary Man.” I have friends who may lynch my ass for this, but I think the Eurythmics are overall an overrated band. Sure they’ve had moments of brilliance and I don’t think anyone in their right mind can deny that Annie Lennox has a gorgeous voice. But for every great song there’s a spotty song right behind it, hence “Missionary Man.” It’s not even that sinister, save for maybe Dave Stewart handling a snake and the fact that it goes on too long. The video is well lit and creative enough but any visual coolness is muted by the blah-ness of the song. Annie looks great, but knowing what these two were capable of, this song is just more of miss than anything.

Cool visual, too bad the song is meh.

Now from the weak to the sublime, MTV atones for its sins and follows it up with The Hitmen’s atmospheric “Bates Motel.” If there was such a thing as getting a degree in music video making, it should be mandatory to watch this video. It would have been all too easy for the director to go with a cheesy Psycho rip-off, but instead you get a thoughtful and creepy video. There are plenty of Hitchcockian nods but they are all done tastefully and if anything add to the ambiance. The song is terrific too and the Hitmen in general were a very, very underrated band. (I highly recommend their album “Torn Together.”) Lead singer Ben Watkins is great here, aptly handling both singing and acting duties and looking genuinely menacing. The lyrics perfectly set the tone for the video. I’ll turn my home into Bates Motel, with the Watkins character coming across like a Norman Bates copycat, while the rest of the band watches a film that may or may not be a snuff film. Between that and such imagery of a droplet of red blood mixed in with the rain while he watches makes this all very heavy viewing. This is the real deal folks.

"Man after meat, out on the streets..." One of many effective shots in "Bates Motel."

Random trivia note, Watkins went on to form successful electronic band Juno Reactor, who are perhaps best known for being featured in the soundtrack for the Matrix films. Sadly Watkins has pretty much disowned his work with the Hitmen. Which is too bad because great work is great work and that band certainly achieved that. There should never be shame in good art.

Watkins looking very cool and sinister.

After that is one of the best bands to have emerged from the Los Angeles 70’s punk scene with X’s “Because I Do.” The video is great with Exene looking especially lovely while grieving, pining, and plotting the fate of her next lover. Shot in black and white, it’s a gorgeous video that looks like a cross between Maya Deren and Man Ray. Plus the song is classic X, so this cannot be beat!

Exene Cervenka=Goddess

It’s hard to follow that double whammy up and while Madness is hardly spooky, they are always fun, so it is hard to complain. “House of Fun” does have a carnival type feel musically, which the video reflects with the lads being wonderfully ridiculous and doing dance moves that I sadly busted out way too many times in my wee years. (Now THAT is spooky.) Oddly enough, the song is actually about a young man dealing with getting over his own fears over trying to buy his first pack of condoms at a drug store.

Who would not want to hang out with this band?

The goodwill gets even better when after that we get The Ramones with “Psychotherapy.” Directed by Francis Delia (aka F.X. Pope when working on such fringe film classics like Nightdreams), who had directed Wall of Voodoo’s “Mexican Radio” three years prior to this special, does a predictably awesome job here featuring the band playing a bunch of inmates in an insane asylum. In addition the cast of the characters around them, which includes a blonde elf child-woman, a python, and one cute punkette that looks like Gia Carangi’s cousin. But the big highlight is Dennis Edwards (who was also in the Delia produced, Stephen Sayadian directed Café Flesh) as a troubled young man whom after going through ice baths and shock treatment, has a creature burst out of his head?!? Unfortunately, the monster money shot is trimmed thanks to the censors at MTV. (Notice they didn’t roll this bad boy out a couple of years ago when MTV2 did their ‘Most Controversial Videos of all Time” special.)

Hey wait a minute...that's not Elvis Costello! A great zombie shrink from "Psychotherapy."

Up next we get the video classic “White Wedding” by the man, Billy Idol. Yes MTV did play this to death back in the day, but for once it was a video that was genuinely good. The video was directed by the very capable of David Mallet, who also worked with such legends as David Bowie (including the incredible video for “Look Back in Anger”), Queen, Blondie, and Joan Jett. Tonally this is a dark video playing up the domestic image of the bride right next to gothic cynicism. I think everyone and their mother by now should know about Idol, so let me focus on the fabulous Perri Lister playing the lead female here. Lister, in addition to being Idol’s non-legal wife for 9 years, was also in the banned by MTV video for Duran Duran’s “The Chauffeur” and was a part of the excellent synth pop band Visage. So give some props to Perri because she’s awesome.

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Finishing up part one, we end on a ghastly high note with Bauhaus’s “Mask.” The fact that MTV ever played this video is a near miracle. Not because it is terrible or anything. In fact, it’s incredible, but this is probably one of the most disturbing videos that ever graced their airwaves. (Not counting the entire Loverboy oeuvre.) Keep in mind that this is the same channel that banned the video for Blue Oyster Cult’s “Joan Crawford.” (Which is definitely worth looking up, by the way.) The song itself is one of the band’s more abstract and haunting tunes, which for Bauhaus is saying a lot. Filled with loads of shadowy and surreal imagery, particularly involving Peter Murphy as a dust covered corpse that rises up towards this end, you will not forget this video anytime soon. Unlike the clip for “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” shown near the beginning of the special, we get to see lots of the other band members here, including drummer Kevin Haskins as a ghoul and Daniel Ash looking like some kind of sickly tribal revenant. This is the stuff great nightmares are made of.

The Shadow is Cast-Peter Murphy in "Mask."

All in all, this is a very fine first half for a music video oriented Halloween special. Who knew that MTV had it in them? Will the final two hours continue to bring on the spooky music video goodness or will it fall prey to the great monster of suckage? Stay tuned for Part Two and find out!

Back from Beyond!

2009-07-27T20:24:00.000-07:00

It has been ages since I have updated this space. (A month and a half, give or take a few days.) Life caught up with me, though included in that are some very cool creative things that I'll be writing about at a later date. Until, then I'm currently cooking up a very cool two-part entry, so keep your peepers open for that round of goodness.

Until then, enjoy these hints!

Simian Madness! A Review of The Bloody Ape

2009-05-20T17:39:00.000-07:00

One of the things I love about cinema is the potential for surprise. We live, like it or not, in a culture that is all about black or white. The big fallacy with this is that you end up missing the gray area, which is the richest field of all. Before you start thinking I’m crazy and going all film wanker on you, let me use an example. Scare Their Pants Off. Yes it’s a fun if silly title to a mid 60’s sexploitation film from NYC. Naturally, there are a lot of people who would write if off right then and there as nothing but a silly exploitation film. But if you actually sit down and watch it with an open mind, you will see something that is more weird student art film then anything else.

The Bloody Ape is another one of these great films. One paper, you have what is a loose retelling of Poe’s classic story, “Murders in the Rue Morgue.” Except instead of an orangutan in Paris, you have the titular gorilla raping and killing gorgeous Long Island beauties, with further bad taste ensuing. However, in reality, what you have is a film that is simultaneously a tribute to low budget horror cinema, ala Andy Milligan, and a statement on the dangers of human ignorance. How many films that center around a sex crazed killer ape are gonna have nuance of any stripe?

Shower surprise!

The story is simple enough. You have Paul Richichi as Lampini, your standard sleazy yet charismatic carnival magician whose big ticket is his prized ape. Lampini’s life revolves around his bleached blonde fiancée, Ginger (Arlene Hansen) and his beloved ape. Life is good until Ginger breaks up with him, sending him off the edge, forcing him to utilize his simian sidekick as a tool of his wrath. But of course, man can never truly control nature and things quickly grow out of control.

The Crafty Lampini! (Paul Richichi)

All the while, Duane (Christopher Hoskins), a really nice, young man black man ends up on the receiving end of some ugly racism via one auto mechanic mook, Vic (Larry Koster.) But his day soon goes from bad to worse, when he ends up being accused of murder via the amazingly mentally regressive Lieutenant LoBianco (George Reis). And now the race is on. Will the police wise up to the real killer? Will Lampini have a change of heart? Will the ape stop sexually assaulting voluptuous Northern vixens?

One of the best things about The Bloody Ape is that it is completely unique. While there are definite influences from other horror films, ranging from Romero’s groundbreaker Night of the Living Dead to the infamous Bigfoot flick, Night of the Demon, it is still very much its own creature.

You have some great, schocky gore, including a penis being ripped off from an acid fried hippie. Since turnabout is fair play, a woman’s breasts also get torn off for good measure. There’s amazing carnival footage, complete with colored lights, spinning rides, and shady gentlemen offering crappy stuffed animals and bikini girl photos for prizes. The only thing missing is the half sauced guy running the Ferris Wheel in the Rossington Collins tee shirt, giving soul dirt to every 17-year-old girl within a 2-mile radius.

Don't you miss this?

Of course, there’s plenty of nudity and bad taste shenanigans to make any sleaze horror enthusiast happy. But there is meat underneath the blood and the racism subplot works very well, never veering off into a “very special after school special” episode territory. Part of the reason for that is that it is never ham fisted but instead more an accurate depiction of people using their bigotry as a crutch against having to evolve. Evolution is a mighty scary thing to the small minded and open communication, which is one of the best combatants against ignorance, is not to be tolerated. In fact, even when stereotypes are used in the film, it is more of a form of cheeky subversiveness. Which in the age of political correctness, is needed more than ever. Remember kids, if something makes you think, even if you don’t like it, then it had done its job.

The actors are a lot of fun and appropriately cast. Hoskins is likable and understated as poor Duane. He’s a great contrast to say the almost cartoonishly broad Reis as the Cracked magazine reading, infantile-like thinking Lobianco. Outfitted with a comic book style goatee and a baby face, Reis was the perfect choice for such a buffoonish character. Then there’s Paul Richichi as Lampini, who is fantastic. Director Crocker has referred to Richichi as his “Joe Dallesandro,” which is fitting since he has such an unusual and organic screen presence. Not to mention the absolute relish he has with his role is so entertaining. If anyone deserves a documentary, it is Richichi. Especially after hearing the commentary. (More on that in a minute.)

LoBianco (George Reis) smirks in the face of logic

The rest of the cast are equally fun, including Larry Koster as the most offensive car mechanic in film history who is straight outta Mooksville, Arlene Hansen as the beautiful and ballsy Ginger, and the mysterious Salvatore Finkel as the Rabbi Rabinowetz. Never has the combo of a strap on beard and boxer shorts been more beautifully used. Just like peanut butter and chocolate!

Like any film worth its salt, The Bloody Ape is probably not for everyone. Then again if you are either easily offended or don’t care for low budget horror in general, why would you pick up a film about a horny killer ape?

Wild Eye Releasing has done a beautiful job with this DVD, especially with the extras. In addition to an entertaining little documentary, there’s a fantastic and funny commentary track featuring director Crocker, cast members Paul Richichi, George Reis, and writer/movie guru Rob Hauschild. This track should be a textbook example of how to do an informative track that is nice to listen to. Plus you get one of Crocker’s early shorts, One Grave Too Many, which is a great little gothic appetizer.

The Bloody Ape is the type of horror film I’m a sucker for. There’s enough grue, nudity, and luridness to appeal to my inner Beavis (and yes, my inner child is Beavis) but there is enough layer and substance to reach my serious, cineaste side. It’s a rough-hewn gem that is very much worth checking out.

2009-05-04T16:13:00.000-07:00

It's not often one gets to do something they love career wise and it is even more rare to get to share such a thing with some amazing people. I was lucky enough to experience both with the latest issue of Ultra Violent magazine, numero 10! I've been writing for UV off and on for over three years now and it has always been a total joy. But not only are they nice, they also have a staff of great writers too! Plus where else are you going to read interviews with such folks as cinematic godhead Alejandro Jodorowsky, Manson documentarian Robert Hendrickson, articles about Turkish Exploitation, and more great reviews you can shake a stick at.

Not to mention, my interview and article with "Blitzkrieg: Escape from Stalag 69" director Keith Crocker, which was a blast to do by the way. In fact, the whole gang at Wild Eye Cinema deserve some major kudos for being so easy and fun to work with. I do want to give a special personal thanks to fellow UV writer Kate Hutchinson, since she played a major part in me doing this piece. (By the way, you would be depriving yourself some fun if you did not check out her uber-amazing blog, http://tenebrouskate.blogspot.com/)

So if you're looking for a magazine that has great writing and covers the classics of extreme cinema as well as the new films, then feel free to check out the latest Ultra Violent!

http://www.myspace.com/uvmagazine

Music Video of the Week: Norm Norman "You're a Zombie"

2009-04-26T10:59:00.000-07:00

One of the things I loathe is when people try to write off a decade’s music with a handful of songs. Now there is dreck in every decade, but where there is shit, there is bound to be gold and the 1980’s were no different. I actually had an ex-friend once say to me, in a snotty tone no less, “You only listen to 80’s music.” You could practically hear the sneer over the phone and to her, what was 80’s music? Mostly stuff I didn’t listen to! (i.e. 80% of the stuff on any “Big Hits of the ‘80’s! Time Life compilation.) Not to mention I love music from all decades, whether it’s 1920’s jazz, 1960’s surf music, or 70’s glam. Hell I love klezmer music for crying out loud!

My point is that you should never write off any time period, because there is bound to be a lot of hidden gems. One of my personal favorites is “You’re a Zombie” by Norm Norman. While his discography is literally just an EP from 1983, what an EP! Norman was a West Coat artist whose music was quirky and catchy. We’re talking power pop with an attitude. It’s a real shame that there is not more material because what little he did do was great. It was certainly better than half of the crap that was playing on MTV at the time. (Kids, don’t be nostalgic for MTV. Sure it was better then than now, but realistically, it still wasn’t that great. How many times did you get to see bands like Swans, the Bolshoi, or Motorhead on there versus Bon Jovi, Firehouse, or Rick Astley? Exactly.)

Unfortunately, I could not find a whole lot of information about him, but I do know this. “You’re a Zombie” is a great song that should have been a huge hit and the video? Is awesome and features famed actor Billy Barty as the insolent butler. Also keep your eyes peeled out for Safari Man and his silly dance of the constipation blues!

Enjoy!

Number with Wings

2009-03-30T16:23:00.000-07:00

The corruption of innocence and the headiness of human desperation are the two striking themes that are handled beautifully in The Bongo’s song “Number with Wings.” And for once, the music video perfectly fits the song as well, thanks to some great candy colored lighting, sinister characters, a mysterious glowing box, and apt direction by Juliano Waldman.

Now I have always been a huge sucker for neon light, especially when it is used for darker purposes and this video is the perfect example of that. While it is very similar in design to the video for Klaus Nomi’s “Falling in Love Again,” tonally it is completely different to the sexually charged, confectionary world created in the Nomi video.

I spy
I see through everything
but I know
I don’t know anything
and on cold nights
my soul is like anyone’s
and on slow nights
I’d forgive anyone

Lyrically the song has a beautifully cryptic and sad desperation to it that really makes it unique. It helps that the Bongos were talented musically, with the song’s stark baseline, steady drum, great guitar work, and Richard Barone’s young sounding voice that pleads the chorus. Everyone has felt the gut-stab of loneliness and there is nothing worse than the loneliness of the heart and the loins. (The two do go hand in hand more than anyone would care to admit in their darkest hour.)

The video is something else. Desperation morphs into weird thrills (a creepy schoolteacher gleefully spanking a young boy, a beautiful woman seducing herself with a teddy bear), voyeurism (repeated images of Barone and the rest of the band looking through a window, their faces often anguished, the adolescent boy and girl all too merrily looking inside the box displaying psycho-sexual sights), and the innocent trying to figure out things in a world full of adults with bad intent. The only non-creepy adults in this universe is the band, clad in black robes, looking like a cross between lost citizens and a cult group. (Which is funny since The Bongos are a cult group. Get it? Yes even I can be a slave to the pun!)

All in all, this is a fantastic song and video that did not get enough love when it was initially released, back around 1983. Anyone who dares to mock the early days of video needs to sit their uneducated asses in front of their computer screen and watch “Number with Wings.” Enjoy ladies and gents!