Night of Terror #14: 'Space Ghost Coast to Coast' - "Snatch"

Nobody can hear you, Space Ghost. We've been off the air for ten days.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers has to be one of the most told and re-told stories on the screen, with several official remakes and countless unlicensed knockoffs. I have a soft spot for all of them, but my favorite is undoubtedly this episode of Space Ghost Coast to Coast, "Snatch."

This is one of those Space Ghost episodes when the already tenuous talk show format is pretty much abandoned entirely in favor of creeping dread and bizarre non-sequiturs. The only "guest," such as he is, is Steven Wright, who may hold the distinction of being the Coast to Coast guest whose own sensibility meshes the most harmoniously with the show. The methodology behind the interviews on this show is perennially a little hazy to me, but nevertheless Wright seems up for everything, from checking out cartoon space porn to dealing with replicating pods and The Blob.

That reminds me, this isn't just a Body Snatchers riff but it becomes a The Blob sequel as well, when The Blob surrounds the Ghost Planet and traps the gang inside with the pods. It's a perfect recipe for the intersection of suspense - they can't get out, no one can get in, and they can't go to sleep or else they'll get replicated.

Anyway, Space Ghost conceives of a brilliant plan to get rid of both the replicating pods and The Blob in one fell swoop, but then Moltar messes it all up and they all have to go back to swilling coffee. Then everyone dies.

HE ENDT.

Night of Terror #13: 'Bug Too!' - "Weevil Dead II"

For those of you who are not conversant in the mid-90s Sega Saturn corpus, Bug Too! is a sequel to the popular video game Bug! which featured a small green movie star insect named Bug. For part two, Bug returns with two costars, Maggot Dog and Superfly, in an adventure that spans many levels with movie-and-insect-themed pun titles, like "Lawrence of Arachina" and "Antennae Day."

But what concerns us today is "Weevil Dead II," the first level of the game and one that is appropriately horror-themed. The "haunted level" is full of fog, undead bugs emerging from underneath fly-swatters, sinister crypts and giant boulders. Because I'm bad at video games and possessing a limited amount of time, I looked up some cheat codes and played through the level. It was fun, and interesting to see how many of the jokes must have flown over my head when I was a kid but almost seem too obvious now (for example, a recurring boss based on the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail). Some of the jokes actually are funny, though, like the bad guy who grabs you in his chains and just shouts "LOSER" at you. Funny.

The most memorable aspect of "Weevil Dead II," unusually for a video game, is the music. The tune that runs throughout is a clear homage to/ripoff of Danny Elfman, and it's an effective enough earworm to stand up next to his work.

Here's a very bizarre promo video I found online about Bug Too!, check it out if you enjoy fake (?) Spielberg quotes and a general air of 90s irony.

Night of Terror #12: An Episode of 'Thriller' I Was Halfway Paying Attention To

When I decided to watch some of the 1960s anthology series Thriller this October, I was under the misapprehension that it had a strong start as a revered horror series and thus would make great Halloween viewing. I learned after I started watching the show that fans consider the early episodes pretty boring compared to what came later (how many of these do I have to slog through before I get to the good stuff, I wonder), but I was still skeptical after watching the first episode and enjoying it quite a bit. The next three have been really boring, though, including "The Mark of the Hand," which I had on my TV while I messed around on Facebook on my phone.

Here's what I was able to gather: This is the second Thriller about a kid with a gun, although this time the whole plot hinges on whether or not the kid actually shot the murder victim. Spoiler alert: She didn't, and the whole thing was actually a methodical murder plot perpetrated by ... someone. I guess I won't give it away, and anyway the details are a little fuzzy, and also don't watch this.

Directed by Paul Henreid!

Night of Terror #11: 'The Hound of the Baskervilles'

"Footprints?"
"Footprints."
"A man's or a woman's?"
Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he answered:—
"Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!"

Fuck yeah.

This was my second time reading The Hound of the Baskervilles, and I can safely say it's one of my favorite novels of all time. It adds a layer of spooky atmosphere and downright horror to the usual Sherlock Holmes crime-deduction action, and makes perfect Halloween reading in the process. It's not just an engaging mystery, but an almost proto-paranoid thriller (I don't have to tell you that paranoia wasn't invented until 1921 by a scientist who was convinced that his contemporaries would kill him then release his formula on the world in secret. He was right), with Dr. Watson entangled in a sinister crime after Holmes tells him to accompany their latest client to the Devonshire moors while he stays back in London. That particular mood of mystery that Doyle usually opens and closes in his 20 or 30-page short stories is sustained and enhanced in full-length novel form here, an impressive feat even before you remember the novel was originally a serialized publication.

This is one of the prototypical mystery novels, yet what impressed me the first time and again now is how it doesn't seem shackled by formula the way a lot of whodunits can. Structurally, Holmes reveals the identity of the killer with a good 5 or 6 chapters of action to go, as he, Watson, and Sir Henry Baskerville close their net around the criminal, which is of course much more satisfying than keeping the solution a secret until the very end. Then there's the secondary mystery, regarding whether the titular hound actually exists, and whether Holmes and Watson, the two men of science, will have to confront a supernatural being.

This is also one of the most adapted stories in history, Wikipedia listing over 20 filmed works based on the book. I saw the one with Matt Frewer and Kenneth Welsh, it was OK.

Feel weird saying this about one of the most beloved works of fiction ever written by man or hound, but you should probably read The Hound of the Baskervilles if you haven't already, preferably with the original Strand magazine illustrations intact. It is good.

Night of Terror #10: 'Dr. Paul Bearer Archives Vol. 1'

Good afternoon whatever you are. I just spent an hour and 18 minutes watching the Dr. Paul Bearer Archives Vol. 1, a DVD I got from the estate of the late Dr. Paul Bearer. I didn't plan to watch the whole thing today, but once I started watching the 5-6 minute segments included on the DVD I couldn't stop, and I laughed more than I do watching many feature length comedies. Dr. Bearer was a horror host on TWOG in St. Petersburg, Florida, and in fact holds the distinction of being the longest-running practitioner of that particular art form, his Creature Feature running from 1973 to 1995, and it only stopped then because of his untimely death after an operation on his heart - as the Doctor himself was fond of saying, there is such a thing as death after life.

But I didn't spend 15 bucks on this DVD because of all that, instead what drove my purchase was the fact that I grew up pretty close to St. Pete and have memories of seeing Dr. Paul on TV, and even once in person, at the Winter Haven Mall, which used to do a trick-or-treat event every Halloween that my parents took me to in lieu of the traditional door-to-door soliciting. I was pretty young then, and I remember being vaguely frightened of this weird guy with the ghoulish makeup and weird speech patterns, and today I was delighted to see him announce his annual personal appearance at the Winter Haven Mall on Halloween in one of the segments included on the DVD.

But I imagine that the treasures on the Dr. Paul Bearer Archives Vol. 1 would appeal to almost anyone with a taste for horror hosts and other pieces of that mostly extinct 20th century novelty entertainment sphere, not just people who were kids in Florida 20 years ago. He sings parody songs, and generates puns out of evert conceivable item on hand - my favorite from this brief sampling of his 22-year career is "State Harm Insurance." Some of the puns aren't even macabre or spooky, like when he gets a "knight shirt" for Christmas, which is just a black t-shirt with a knight on it. Can I buy that somewhere?

Watching more than an hour of Creature Feature segments in one sitting can start to get to you. I started imagining that Dr. Paul Bearer is actually a schizophrenic dentist who believes he lives in a "tenement castle" and talks to the walls about the "horrible old movies" that come on TV. He chats with his spider friend Spinjamin Bock (I'll admit I don't really get this pun - is Benjamin Bock a singer or something?) and eats his Devil's Food Scream Cake as his madness calcifies around his aging brain.

But enough jokes. If you don't live in Austin and can borrow mine, you might want to buy your own copy of the first (of many, I hope) volume Dr. Paul Bearer Archive, and you can do so here. I'll be lurking for you, etc.

Night of Terror #9: "Scariest Picture Ever"

Today we have our first 31 Nights of Terror guest spot, this one from standup comedian/Stewart's connosieur Big Jim LeChase. I'm kind of mad at Jim because this is funnier and better than anything I've managed to grind out this month, and also because I wish I'd come up with this idea myself. Now if you'll please join me in welcoming to the stage, the absurdly funny and ridiculously lovely Jimmy LeChase:

When Joe laid down the new law that said we weren’t allowed to review movies for 31 Nights of Terror I thought to myself “Joe can go straight to hell. Who does he think he is?” But, after a I drank some strong tea and let my mind wander a bit I realized that, like a true savant and kindly soul, Joe was actually doing us all a favor. Joe, in his infinite wisdom and beauty, was challenging us to go above and beyond our normal limitations to find something bigger and brighter than we ever thought we were possible of creating.

I found my mind alight with more ideas and opinions than I ever knew I had. “What if I review an episode of American Horror Story; which is a show I’ve never seen?” was one of my first thoughts, but it proved to be fleeting as I couldn’t muster up the gumption to sit in front of my TV for an hour while I watched some people over-act while they lived inside a spooky asylum. Not for me.

As the days dripped by I found myself back in Rochester, NY for a weekend of shows at The Comedy Club; which is where I got my start as a stand-up comedian and professional clown. I brought up my concerns to a stranger I struck up a conversation with at the bar. I was enjoying a diet soda and he was a few rounds into what smelled like Jack Daniels mixed with tonic water. A delicacy I am all too familiar with from my days as a drunkard.

“Fella,” I said to the stranger, “I’m all mixed up about what I can review for my friend’s web log. I can’t do a movie like I normally would. I won’t do a TV show, because I haven’t the mind for it. I’m stuck, y’see.”

Through the fog of his inebriation the stranger wagged a single finger in the air and slurred out the following sentence “if you can’t do moving pictures, why not try one that ain’t moving?” Clearly, this man was the kind of genius that is only suitable for bar talk and chess matches against Russian computers, so I thanked him by purchasing his next round and headed back to my place thinking “yes, yes! I will find the scariest picture ever and that’s what I’ll write about!”

Once I was back home in front of my trusty Gateway Laptop I typed “Google” in to Bing and was brought to the homepage of the world’s most usable search engine. “If any place is going to have a lead on the scariest picture ever, it’s going to be Google,” I told myself while sucking down another diet soda (a habit I’m not proud of).

There, in the search bar, I typed the words that would change my life forever: “scariest picture ever.”

The results, as the above image shows, were varied. One of them appears to be a young Jay-Z happily about to take a trip to the land of Nod and another seems to show a young lady having a terrible time with her morning BM. There are even multiple collections to choose from! You can look at “Ghost” or “Taken” or “Internet” if you want to see the scariest picture ever in either of those areas, but I don’t have time to whittle it down to something that specific. Maybe next year.

The image that appeared first, thus making it the scariest picture ever, can be seen below:

 

Whoa! Wow! What a scary picture of a man that’s been beaten down by society for so long that he has no choice but to make his living dressing up as a clown to entertain people at parties that nobody really wants to go to but they have to go because Dave is throwing it and he’s the boss and if you skip out on his big party you’re not going to get a good quarterly review!

The first thing that leaps out to me when I see the “scariest picture ever” is the clown’s crumpled right shoe. What happened there? Is this another instance of blatant disrespect that sent our poor hero over the edge into the oblivion of madness? Or, is it something more sinister than that? Did our clown use that shoe to maim a victim? We’ll never know, because the 1,000 words this picture is telling us seem to be speaking a language with which I am unfamiliar.

I’d like to take a moment to point out the medal this clown is wearing. It looks to have the number 36 written on it; which, to anybody with half a brain and the ability to count, means that it’s Dave’s 36th birthday party. Not only is this poor man being hired to entertain adults, he’s been hired by a narcissistic mad man that celebrates things like his 36th birthday. The horror of this picture is becoming obvious if not ominous.

The lady standing to our clown’s left (picture right) is oblivious to his presence; which the clown is more than used to. He’s walked into crowded malls and toy stores without anybody noticing him so often that he expects not to be seen; which is why, when the photographer spied him and snapped this shot, he was unprepared and only managed to muster a grin mixed with a leer.  Why, the fellow didn’t even have time to straighten his knees out and stand at attention; which is just another slap in the face during a life that seems to be nothing but slaps in the face.

There are also some pies cooling on top of the oven; which our clown seems to be aware of only peripherally. Clowns, as we all know, are not allowed to eat anything with taste. They are forced to subsist on a diet of sand and popped balloons thanks to President Reagan’s “No Clowns” initiative of 1984. “Oh, how I wish I knew what it was to eat food with flavor,” our clown is almost definitely thinking to himself, but that would be against the law, and our clown has 2 prior felonies already.

The kitchen where this was taken looks to be tiny but manageable and easy to clean. “Who needs all that space?” You can hear the realtor telling Dave. (Dave sunk too much money into a mortgage he really can’t afford to buy a new house he only wants so he can show it off during his 36th birthday party, but he’s only told our clown this as he knows it is against clown-code to tell another person’s secrets) It’s a perfect size for our clown, though, and he appears to be making himself right at home.

“If I could just have a moment to fix my wig,” he asks Dave later on in the night, “I don’t like to perform with a mussed wig.” Dave, feeling cavalier and full of ego, allows the clown a moment to better his appearance. “My friends deserve the best show you can give them clown,” he says with a sneer, “go fix your wig and return with a hurry. The show must start in 3 minutes or my guests will grow weary!”

The clown flees into the kitchen once more. He spies what looks to be a sharpened knife laying between the freshly cooked pies. “It would be so easy,” he thinks to himself. “It would be so simple,” he says. The clown begins to giggle. Slowly. It turns into a cackle so loud the guests at Dave’s party can hear it over the chorus of Montell Jordan’s “This Is How We Do It.” A worried patron scurries over to the boombox and lowers the volume to a level that allows them to figure out where the laughter is coming from.

One by one they follow the sound into the kitchen. Each of them going googly-eyed when they see the clown before them covered in what appears to be red paint. Lots and lots of red paint. Too much red paint. It’s not even making sense how much red paint this clown has on him. “Did somebody lose some red paint?” a guy asks the assembled crowd. “Hey, where’s Dave?” somebody else chimes in.

The clown bursts into more laughter. He can’t stop it. It’s coming out of him like a bull rushing into an arena to take on a matador. It’s then that somebody notices the knife in the clown’s hands. It’s then that somebody asks where Dave is again. It’s then that the clown fixes his wig and says “I know where Dave is” and the laughter surges out of him so forcefully that he flops to the ground and begins convulsing.

Soon, a white foam appears at the clown’s lips and the apparent seizure comes to a stop. The clown’s eyes bolt open momentarily as he utters his final words “where’s your camera now? Where’s your camera now!”

7 out of 10 stars

Jimmy LeChase's official website can be found here.

Night of Terror #8: 'Sweet Exorcist'

Sometimes over the course of our lives we accidentally embark on two different endeavors, at completely cross purposes with one another. In my case, I wanted to A: Watch/read/listen to/eat/drink some non-movie Halloween item every day in October, and write about my experiences doing the same. I also wanted to B: Do nothing but listen to Curtis Mayfield all day. Most of the horrors depicted in Curtis Mayfield records are sociopolitical in nature, like racism and poverty and national malaise. But he did record an album called Sweet Exorcist, and it came out one year after The Exorcist, and it's my blog, so whatever.

No, Sweet Exorcist isn't some kind of horror-funk concept album, and I'm not really sure I'd want to listen to such a thing from Curtis Mayfield. George Clinton, sure, but not Mayfield. The title track is all about exorcising metaphorical demons when you fall in love, which is a very nice sentiment albeit not a very spooky one. One of the things I love about good soul music is the way it can take romantic or even sexual love and intermingle it lyrically with spiritualism or religion and it never seems tacky or weird, instead suggesting that love of God and love of a (wo)man is all on the same spectrum. See? I can't even type that without it seeming weird, Mayfield truly is a Gentle Genius.

The rest of Sweet Exorcist is typically sharp Mayfield songwriting and arrangements, albeit mostly lacking the hard funk grooves of his more famous work from this period ("Kung Fu" might take you where you need to go on this front though). I thought about doing some kind of bit where I pretend "To Be Invisible" is about a horror-movie-style invisible man, but it's 2 AM and I'm tired. Now, if you'll give me a minute, I'm going to dash over to YouTube and see if I can find a Sweet Exorcist/The Exorcist mashup. That has to exist, right?

God damn it.