Category Archives: Articles

GUILTY PLEASURES – “Thinner”

With “Guilty Pleasures”, I revisit some horror flicks that fans have almost unanimously derided and labeled “unlikeable”, but are ones that I inexplicably get a kick out of. This time around, it’s Thinner.

thinner

Successfully adapting a Stephen King work for the big screen has to be harder than learning a creole language over the weekend. Hell, even Stephen King himself couldn’t adapt his own work! He wrote the screenplay for and directed Maximum Overdrive, (which was based on his own short story, Trucks) and it was still a huge disaster. And yet as loud and clear of a message that is, warning optimistic directors to just “turn back now!”, they still continually try and fail to bring King’s written words to jumping, animated life. There are a few success stories, sure — but the batting average ain’t great. Continue reading GUILTY PLEASURES – “Thinner”

Killer Canadian Horror!

Aloha, mutants! Another holiday in the planner notated with a question mark is upon us: Canada Day! As I sit here in my Vancouver, BC Days Inn motel room (truth, I’m really in Canada!), I thought I’d help celebrate Canada Day by taking a moment to honor some of the maple-flavored maniacs from up north!

Now this is not a list detailing the great and wonderful subgenre of “canuxploitation”, though you can find just about all the info you’d need to ever find on the subject at the awesomely extensive website, Canuxploitation! Nor is this a list detailing movies simply filmed in Canada. Y’see, some time in the 1970s, directors (American and otherwise) realized they could get some major tax breaks by filming in Canada, so there are lots of Canadian-filmed horror films that aren’t from Canadian directors. For a list of those movies, just check out the Wikipedia page for it.

This list is simply intended to shine a a light on a few Canuck-born crazies who’ve contributed great things to the genre of horror. So let’s take a look at a few of ’em, eh? Continue reading Killer Canadian Horror!

My Top 15 Episodes of Tales from the Crypt!

I’ve mentioned this in many articles before, but my childhood was primarily based around the boob tube. There was TV in the morning before school, TV after school, TV while we sat and ate dinner, and TV in my bedroom before I fell asleep. Ah, the beautiful warm, blue glow from the screen. Watching cable in dark with no TV guide to assist my exploration – now that was exciting! I’ve also mentioned before that I was (am) the son of two very permissive, understanding, and cool parents. Therefore I was introduced to the good stuff early on, Tales from the Crypt being one of them. I know it aired on HBO during the weekend – I believe Saturday night – but I also think it aired once during the weeknight, too. I can’t remember exactly now. But that’s what this wonderful promo from October 30, 1993 would lead me to believe!
Continue reading My Top 15 Episodes of Tales from the Crypt!

Bub Discovers New Music!

One of the great things about 80s horror flicks (versus today’s pedigree) is they didn’t take themselves so seriously. They weren’t afraid to inject lots of humor right alongside the buckets of blood. Everything from Evil Dead to Creepshow, A Nightmare on Elm Street to The Lost Boys, there was an art to the balance of humor and horror – something that is most certainly lost on 99.98% of today’s spook movies.

George A. Romero was no stranger to having fun in his movies, especially them zombie ones that made him so famous. Hell, Dawn of the Dead (1978) has a pie fight! By his third zombie film, Day of the Dead (1985), the slapstick got toned down a bit but there was still lots to smirk at – one of the main ones being the childlike “Bub”, a zombie who we see being ‘taught’ by Dr. Logan. Bub is iconic, as are his interactions with Dr. “Frankenstein” Logan, so I thought I would take a familiar scene and update it a bit – contemporize it for the year it was released, 1985.

I Love Practical Effects!

Until a few weeks ago, I had totally forgotten that my first obsession as a kid — before I started making home movies, before I started making zines — was special effects. More specifically: the latex-laden, gore-filled, squib-bursting effects I was consuming via every horror film I watched on a daily basis.

I was talking with a buddy recently (super talented and humble Todd who runs Junk Fed – buy all his creations; follow all his media outlets), and he had mentioned how, as a kid, one of the first things he wanted to be when he grew up was a special effects guy. And that’s when my memory was jogged, and all those long-buried similar hopes and dreams of my own came flooding back. I, too, wanted to be a special effects guy!

I remember once filling a ziplock bag with red food coloring and water and then taping it to a little square of Styrofoam, and then taping that contraption to my chest. I threw on an old white t-shirt, grabbed a sharpened pencil, and ran into the kitchen where my mom was. “Hey, mom, look!” I shouted. She turned around to see me thrusting the pencil into my chest – into the DIY squib – and having blood splatter out of the wound, soaking the shirt in red. The pencil, buried deep in the Styrofoam, stood erect from my chest like a little diving board. Boy, was I proud of that one. Later, I would see the movie F/X and it made me realize that if there was a Hollywood movie based around the art of creating effects, it must be pretty well-regarded.

Besides being inspired by the films I was watching, my fascination with gory make-up was also fueled by my regular intake of Fangoria Magazine. And it was in this magazine that I came across ads for the Joe Blasco Make-up Artist Training Center. I was convinced this is where I had to go. Thankfully, I strayed from that path because upon doing some research on the school for this article, I’ve found nothing but atrocious reviews for it. Dodged a bullet there!

Eventually, my serious interest in pursuing make-up effects as a career waned as I got older, but my fascination with the craft never dulled and my love of horror films has only grown as the years have gone on.

With all that said, there are certain ‘Masters of the Craft’ – guys who created some of the most memorable special effects from the mids-70s to the late-80s, the heyday of practical horror effects. So with this list, I wanna point out who they are and what my favorite work from them has been.

dick-smith

The late Dick Smith was the godfather of make-up effects. He was the king. He invented the now standard method of using multiple facial prosthetics versus one single face mask, which was a less restrictive approach and allowed actors to use more facial expressions underneath their make-up. One of his specialities — and something I don’t anyone has come near to perfecting the way Smith did — was age make-up. He made Dustin Hoffman look 120-years-old in Little Big Man and made David Bowie look 150-years-old in The Hunger. He’d use his unbelievable knack for age make-up in several films, like The Godfather and Carnal Knowledge, and even won an Academy Award for his work on Amadeus. But it was his contributions to the horrific The Exorcist that changed the special effects game forever. As his protégé (the recently retired) Rick Baker tells it:

The Exorcist was really a turning point for make-up special effects. Dick showed that makeup wasn’t just about making people look scary or old, but had many applications. He figured out a way to make the welts swell up on Linda Blair’s stomach, to make her head spin around, and he created the vomit scenes.

He also wrote The DIY Monster Make-Up Handbook, something I’d check out from the library religiously as a kid. In 2011, he was awarded the Academy Honorary Award for his life’s work — the first ever make-up artist to be so honored. I implore even the toughest brute with the blackest heart to watch that video and not get a little misty.

rob-bottin

Something I feel most of the young FX dudes from the 80s share is a wild streak: long hair, scruffy faces, heavy metal t-shirts. Rob Bottin, in my opinion, was the epitome of the insane special effects guy from the 80s — not only displayed in his look, but also his work. And there was that one time he caused an explosion on set, and it doesn’t get more insane than that.

He got his start by sending drawings to then-established FX guy Rick Baker, who loved what he saw and agreed to hire him. And how old was Bottin at the time? He was just 14-years-old. Bottin would go on to create some of the most mind-bending, wet and wild effects of the 80s and 90s: All the creatures from The Thing (1982); He designed the legendary look of RoboCop (1987), a movie which includes the infamous ‘toxic waste melting man‘ scene; Jack Nicholson’s bizarre transformations in The Witches of Eastwick (1987); All of the eye-popping, head-unfurling, conjoined-baby effects from Total Recall (1990); and the trippy lizard scene in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1997). But the scene I love the most that Bottin created is from The Thing. It’s perhaps the most tense, horrifying, and unbelievable (and memorable!) sequences in horror effects history:

yagher

Kevin Yagher is one of the lucky few FX people to make it out of the 80s unscathed, working with regularity and even transitioning into doing make-up and effects for TV. And though he’s stayed continuously busy, it’s three of his contributions to the genre during the 80s that literally changed the face of horror.

Prior to Yagher’s involvement, Freddy Krueger’s face was mostly obscured by darkness in the original A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). But after joining the crew on the sequel, Freddy’s face became noticeably more menacing, the burn patterns more realistic and intricate. It became ‘the Freddy Krueger look’, one that was a fan favorite during Yagher’s run for ANOES 2, ANOES 3, and ANOES 4. Note the differences between the original Krueger make-up on the left and Yagher’s Freddy on the right.

face

Yagher would also create two more pieces of horror history during the 80s: Chucky, the doll from the Child’s Play series, and The Cryptkeeper from the Tales from the Crypt TV show. Kevin Yagher’s contributions to horror have been historic to say the least.

knb

For the uninitiated, K.N.B. is an acronym for Kurtzman (Robert), Nicotero (Gregory), and Berger (Howard), the three dudes who created what would end up being (still) the most prolific special effects company ever. Launched in 1988, the group has worked on almost any relevant film project, horror and otherwise, not to mention a multitude of TV programs. It’s no exaggeration when I say ‘every production’; a quick peek at Greg Nicotero’s IMDB page shows a glimpse of just how massive their scope has been. Robert Kurtzman left the group in the early 2000s, but even his solo career has matched the enormity of what Nicotero & Berger continue to do. I could write pages upon pages about their contribution to the genre, but the one that immediately comes to mind – the one that actually truly shocked me when I first saw it (pardon the pun) – was Intruder (1989). The “last great slasher of the 80s”, Intruder is full of humor and horror, the way slashers oughtta be. And boy, those special effects. Look at the gif below and then find a copy of Intruder to watch, immediately.

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walas

Another anonymous magician who dreamt up some of the most memorable imagery and characters from the 80s (and pop culture’s collective childhood), Chris Walas is responsible not only for creating the look of the Gremlins, but also the unforgettable ‘melting Nazis’ in Raiders of the Lost Ark. He also gave everyone the heebie-jeebies with his spider creations in Arachnophobia (1990) and would go on to direct the criminally underrated The Vagrant (1992). His greatest contribution however, would have to be the effects he supplied for David Cronenberg’s 1986 masterpiece, The Flyeffects that won him an Academy Award.

chiodos

Dealing more with puppets and puppet design and stop-motion claymation rather than all the aforementioned splatter, The Chiodo Brothers stick out on this list – but I’d be remiss not include them. They created the Crites from Critters; they created the Killer Klowns from Outer Space; they created the goblins from Ernest Scared Stupid. Oh, and they created this purdy lady right here:

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TOM-SAVINI

Much like K.N.B., I feel like Tom Savini’s contributions to the genre are too vast to itemize here. Plus, I mean, c’mon! It’s Tom Savini! The Sultan of Splatter! You know what he’s done. To compartmentalize his career into 3 sections, he:

  1. Made headshots look real and gruesome
  2. Made zombies pulling people apart and eating their guts look real and gruesome
  3. Made Jason Voorhees as a kid look real gruesome.

My favorite work of his is from Day of the Dead (1985). Everything Savini became notorious for was put on full display in this movie: the headshots, the eviscerations, impalements, the zombie puppets, the half-bodies, the rounded machete-blade trick. All of it! Like most of his brethren, Savini slowly transitioned out of SFX in the early 90s to focus on other things, mainly acting and occasionally directing.

winston

When it came to providing effects for the big guns – Steven Spielberg, James Cameron, Tim Burton, Robert Zemeckis, to name a few – the late (great) Stan Winston was the go-to guy. Giant, realistic dinosaurs? Liquid metal bad guy from the future? Lubed up Xenomorphs spitting deadly acid? No problem. As the tide began to turn and as computer animation and effects started to become more commonplace, even though Stan Winston’s initial work was very traditional, he was still able to make a fluid transition and work harmoniously with the new technology. And it’s because of his respect and understanding of these new ways, combined with his old-school approach that his resultant effects were some of the most believable things captured on film. Watch this pissed off T. rex attack a car full of small kids. Then watch the trailer for Jurassic World. Then come back and look me in the eye and tell me modern CGI doesn’t suck a big one.

rick-baker

Last but certainly not least, the man of the hour, Rick Baker. The man is as big a legend as the rest of them, but somehow more. He created the blueprint of the now-standard look of werewolf transformation scenes in An American Werewolf in London (1981). He did the zombies in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” music video. He made bigfoot for Harry and the Hendersons. He made Eddie Murphy white in Coming to America and made him obese in The Nutty Professor. Men in Black, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Hellboy. Rick Baker did it all. His imagination was limitless, his skills and abilities unmatched. It’s hard to pick one thing of his that stands out because it’s all so different. But I’ll end with a classic.

To all the special effects people – past and present – like the schoolteachers, garbagemen, and social workers of this world you’re often shamefully overlooked and underthanked. But to the effects wizard of the late 70s and 80s who helped shape my warped and wonderful mind: I can’t thank you enough!

Stephen King’s Dollar Babies!

Den of Geek wrote a similar article on the same topic recently. To clear up any concerns I’ve included a disclaimer/clarification after this article if you’re interested.*

king

If you’ve never read Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft – a quintessential text for any aspiring writer and/or creative type – I highly suggest checking it out ASAP from your nearest lie-berry. Even if you’re not at all interested in writing, the book still works as an amazing autobiography, detailing every part of King’s life – from his earliest memories growing up to his first successes an an author.

And that’s one of the truly amazing parts of the book: we witness him go from a nobody to a somebody after years of busting his hump. King and his wife Tabitha (Tabby, to Steve) were married with a newborn on their hands, struggling to make ends meet. He was teacher and grading papers during the day, and writing his stories at night. And after chipping away at it long enough – and nearly almost giving up – Carrie was finally published, and the rest is history. King is humble and forthright in On Writing – he makes no airs about the fact that he’s since made boatloads of money and doesn’t need to write another book for the next few millennia. But he’s a writer in the truest sense: he writes because he’s so passionate about it; he can’t do anything else.

So it was with this understanding of being utterly devoted to creating works of art – combined with the fact that he didn’t really need any more money – that King began allowing aspiring film makers the right to film any of his short stories… for one dollar. He labeled these projects his “Dollar Babies“.

By the late 1970s King had amassed a large collection of short stories, and after the successes of his full length novels Carrie, ‘Salem’s Lot, and The Shining, he started receiving correspondence from college-aged film makers hoping to adapt a piece of his work. As King tells it:

Around 1977 or so, when I started having some popular success, I saw a way to give back a little of the joy the movies had given me. ‘77 was the year young film makers – college students, for the most part – started writing me about the stories I’d published, wanting to make short films out of them. Over the objections of my accountant, who saw all sorts of possible legal problems, I established a policy which still holds today. I will grant any student filmmaker the right to make a movie out of any short story I have written, so long as the film rights are still mine to assign. I ask them to sign a paper promising that no resulting film will be exhibited commercially without approval, and that they send me a videotape of the finished work. For this one-time right I ask a dollar. I have made the dollar-deal, as I call it, over my accountant’s moans and head-clutching protests sixteen or seventeen times as of this writing [1996].”

So with those simple rules in place, students and ambitious directors were allowed to have at it. The professionalism on these projects covered both ends of the spectrum, from hundred-dollar cheapies shot on VHS, to big-budgeted badboys like the adaptation of Umney’s Last Case, which was shot on 35mm film for over $60,000.

Some of these little labors of love would end up being launching pads for soon-to-be award winning directors. So let’s look at a few of the first Dollar Babies ever produced, and the teams behind them.

boog

The Boogeyman is the first Dollar Baby to be produced. Released in 1982 (based on a story written by King in 1973), it was directed by Jeffrey C. Schiro who would later get into TV, directing an episode of Tales from the Darkside. It had a budget of a whopping $20,000! In 1982, that was practically a million bucks. While Schiro and his crew didn’t go on to do much more after this little flick, the seeds were planted for an exciting new venture with endless possibilities.

crow

This 30 minute short came out in 1983 and was based on King’s 1977 short story, Children of the Corn. This is where things get interesting: in the beginning of King’s career, there was really only interest from major movie studios in his full length novels, which is why he allowed budding auteurs to adapt his shorter works for only a dollar. While not necessarily a loophole, it did allow a fortunate few to be the first to adapt what would later become major motion pictures. Disciples of the Crow was the first instance of this, but it wouldn’t be the last.

woman

Perhaps the most prominent and significant of all the entries, The Woman in the Room was not only Frank Darabont’s first film but also technically the first Dollar Baby. A 20-year-old Darabont, who wasn’t even involved in the movie industry at the time, loved the story so much that he wrote King a letter asking if he could make a short film of it. King, keen on conceptualizing a way to allow this put into action the Dollar Babies. It took Darabont over 3 years and $35,000 to complete the film, making his entry third on the list – but he was the first one to approach King with the idea back in 1980. King went on to say it was, “Clearly the best of the short films made from my stuff.” So good, in fact, that Darabont and his crew entered it for Oscar consideration in the short film category. It even ended up being purchased (along with The Boogeyman and Disciples of the Crow) for release on home video. It would be the beginning of a long and successful career for Darabont, who would end up adapting several more of King’s works – The Mist, The Green Mile – and would eventually win the Oscar for Best Picture (as well as pretty much every other category) for The Shawshank Redemption – which of course, was based on a short story by Stephen King.

mower

Last on the list, we have the whole reason I wrote this piece: The Lawnmower Man. I was surfin’ the net as kids are wont to do these days, when I fell down one of those rabbit holes – the deep and endless kind where one click leads to another click, leads to another, and another; from Wikipedia, to Youtube, and back again. Link to link to link. I’d somehow found myself watching what I thought was some cheapo home movie on Youtube simply entitled The Lawnmower Man. And I wasn’t entirely wrong: it is a cheapo homemade movie, and it is entitled The Lawnmower Man. But what I didn’t realize until seeing the opening credits was that it was indeed based on Stephen King’s short story of the same name.

Most notable is the fact that this short film is more faithful to its source material than 1992’s big-budgeted take on the story, which bears absolutely no resemblance to King’s work other than in name. Pretty impressive: some anonymous students with $5,000 did a better job of adapting a Stephen King story than Hollywood could with 10 million smackers.

And that’s the beauty of the crossroads where determination, creativity, passion and respect intersect. King is an artist – once a very struggling artist – and he knows what it’s like to have that fire burning so badly in your belly; nothing can snuff it out, but being allowed to create your art can at least temper the flames for the time being.

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*Whenever genius strikes me – whether I’m in the shower, trying to fall asleep, or drinking an Olympic-size swimming pool amount of beer (almost always that last one) – the first thing I do is run to Google. I immediately punch in whatever article idea I have to make sure of two things:

  1. That it’s an original idea. And,
  2. That if it has been done before, either
    A. Enough time has passed for my article to be fresh, or
    B. My article introduces some different or new information than the previous articles.

In this Internet Age when everything is a rehash of a rehash, it’s important to me to do my best to not add anymore overdone, hacky detritus to the pile of listicles, burying worthwhile reading deep underneath. Sometimes I write an entirely original piece (like my article on the name Francis in 80s movies); sometimes I write on a familiar topic, like Jason Voorhees. Either way, I try my best to make it my own – and it’s always a challenge I welcome.

NOW, all that being said, when I wanted to write this piece on Stephen King and his “Dollar Baby” concept, I did like I always do and searched Google. And damn it all, wouldn’t you know it that Den of Geek just wrote a piece on this same topic not even 2 months ago! Alas, that’s the way things go when you’re trying to generate new material in this fast-paced web-based world. I decided to proceed anyway because after reading their take, I thought I definitely had more to add. I’m an admittedly long-winded, overly-explanatory writer, and to me this is a definite strong point; I make sure to cover every facet, explain every detail, and inject as much personality in my articles as I can because I want to convey to the reader that I not only know what I’m talking about, but that I actually enjoy the subject I’m writing about. I don’t want it to read like I’m some paid shill who got an email full of factoids to investigate from my boss. Because I didn’t, I’m not being paid, and I don’t have a boss. It’s all me, baby.

Anyway, I included this disclaimer because, I don’t know…I’d feel grimy otherwise. I still encourage you to read their piece, too! And then tell me mine was better, naturally.