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Magazine Morgue

Joe Dante’s Dante’s Inferno
And Other Worse Things
By Professor Kinema

dante's inferno

With Thanksgiving under my belt, my thoughts always turn to turkeys. Not only conjured up images of the on-the-table-carving-kind with stuffing and cranberries, but also movies considered the worst on the silver screen–past and present. One web site I'm always checking out, as well as occasionally contributing to–at least in submitting an occasional vote–is the Razzies, where candidates for the past year's worst achievements are listed and voted on. The Golden Raspberry Awards have been around, and going strong, since March 31, 1981. A similar site, Rotten Tomatoes, was launched August 12, 1999. Pre-dating them is the yearly Harvard Lampoon "Worst of… " Awards. On Saturday, April 23rd, 1966, Natalie Wood made history when she became the first performer to show up at Harvard and graciously accept her award after being voted the year's Worst Actress .

Speaking of the Worst…

In the early 1960s, in the uncharted wastes of New Jersey, dwelled one young fan who was caught up in monsters, both classic and modern. Through the pages of magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland and Castle of Frankenstein he was made aware of other kindred spirits who existed. They were appearing in FMoF's and CofF's pages since any and all were invited to submit letters, photos and mentions of fan clubs. This young fan was determined to have a letter, or at least a mention, in FMoF. He wrote to editor Forry Ackerman of his love for monster films and how much he loved reading FMoF. No response. He wrote of what he and his friends did when they were not attending school. Again, no response. He submitted a list of what he thought were the best classic and contemporary fanta-films. Again, no response. Maybe a serious re-thinking and change of concept was in order? So this young fan compiled a list of monster (and science fiction) films he thought were the worst. Although thematically cynical, this list was ahead of its time. This cynical young fan was future film director Joe Dante.

I digress

Prior nods to the not-the-greatest horror and sci-fi films had been in the pages of FMoF and another Ackerman-edited magazine running concurrently, Spacemen. The premier issue of FMoF (1958) in the Out of This World Monsters article featured a still of the Ro-man with the caption "Robot Monster, the film so horrible it was not released, it escaped." One could easily ascertain the usage of the word "horrible" was used here not to mean anything horror-filled, but rather to imply a bad quality. The premier issue of Spacemen (July 1961) ran a full page photo of the aliens from Invasion of the Saucermen with the less-than-complimentary comments of them resembling "cabbage heads" and "heads that resemble meatballs with spaghetti" in the Orbituary Department. Issue #3 (April, 1962) contained a request from readers (one cheekily named 'Hans Orlac'), also in the Orbituary Department, to see a photo of "those unbelievably ridiculous popeyed planetmen from Killers From Space."

The young fans of FMoF and Spacemen (both periodicals presumably originating from the same typewriter of Unkka Forry) took no exception to the less than sterling comments of the films they were enjoying both on TV as well as on the big screen. Good films were enjoyable. Bad films were equally as enjoyable, mainly because they were bad. It was all taken in fun.

famous monsters 18Okay, now back to Joe Dante

A few weeks later his telephone rang. It was Forry Ackerman. Bang! The Ackermonster himself was calling him from the other side of the country…from the Ackermansion! He had read his list of 50 worst horror and sci-fi films with the utmost interest. Permission was asked if it could be expanded and embellished to be featured in the next issue of FMoF. Now a starry-eyed fan, he would be credited as the author!

Within a few months a huge envelope arrived with complimentary copies of FMoF #18 (July, 1962). On page 14 began what had now morphed into Dante's Inferno. There it was, a full-fledged article! Containing, as Dante later commented, "words that he didn't even understand." The 50 "worst films" listing was in alphabetical order begining with Adventure Island (1947) and winding up with Zombies on Broadway (1945). Two of Ed Wood's films were included: Bride of the Monster was listed as #7, and sandwiched between The Phantom From 10,000 Leagues (listed as Phantom of 20,000 Leagues) and Revolt of the Zombies was Plan 9 From Outer Space at #39. The entire comment was "I had heard a lot about Plan 9 From Outer Space and saw it to see if it was as bad as they said [although he doesn't elaborate on who "they" were]. It was even worse! There is a distinct possibility that it was the cheapest film ever made. The entire cast was awful. Special effects were laughable and even the old clips of Bela Lugosi were poor. The scene where Tor Johnson rose from the grave was the only good 5 seconds in the whole film. Vampira, Johnson, Lyle Talbot all wasted."

Similar pans described the other titles in Dante's Inferno. Soon after, Joe Dante was listed in CofF #3 (1963), and by issue #4 was a contributing editor. His editorial duties included compiling the Frankenstein (TV) Movie Guide. In his reflections of FMoFs 1 though 50 in  Famous Monster of Filmland (Imagine, 1986), Forry Ackerman, writes about Dante's Inferno and the repurcussions it caused. He wrote that the young fan from New Jersey was a "Joe Nobody" and that he truly felt no one would take the article seriously. However, FMoF's publisher Jim Warren irately told him American International's president James H. Nicholson was fuming. His company was planning to reissue a few of the titles panned in the article. It was also made known that if FMoF were to now run articles putting down Imagi-Movies, it could be devastating. Producers and releasing companies would not want to promote anything, past or present, on the magazine's pages. Warren flatly told him "Don't ever run a criticism of another picture!"

So…

Two issues later a full page photo was printed in the beginning of the magazine. It depicted a large trophy sitting on the desk of a beaming James H. Nicholson. The trophy was the (first) Famous Monsters of Filmland Magazine Producer's Award for "the horror hit of 1962 – AIP's The Pit & the Pendulum." Pacified, Nicholson was smiling as Warren was proudly admiring it.

And what's more…

Evidently, one of the auteurs whose films Dante panned, Roger Corman, with Teenage Caveman #44 on the list, either forgave him or paid it no attention. Less than 20 years later Corman's New World Productions handled Hollywood Boulevard, and Piranha–both featuring early directing duties by Dante. Corman functioned as Associate Producer for both films.

By the time I had read Dante's Inferno I had caught an airing of Plan 9 on television. As a pre-teen monster fan I thought of it as a bit odd. Other fanta-films seemed to have more substance and looked better. Now here was someone out there in the world that caught the same eccentricities I was observing while viewing these films. Here with this listing were many more. To me it all fell in to the general appreciation for them. Watching a film either on TV or in the movies, especially with friends, was all part of fandom. The fun was in either being generally thrilled by a truly scary film, or having a good laugh with it. Plan 9's (as well as Bride of the Monster's) auteur was not mentioned in Dante's Inferno, but recognition would come soon after his death. His body of work would be resurrected, reappraised, reevaluated and heralded…as the worst.

Now about Ed Wood Jr…

1978, the year Edward Davis Wood Jr. died at the age of 54, saw the publication of a book titled The 50 Worst Films of All Time (Popular Library). The authors were listed as Harry Medved with Larry Dreyfuss. Listed were films af all genres, touching on a few horror and sci-fi films. Mixed in with titles like The Conqueror, Myra Breckenridge, Lost Horizon and Valley of the Dolls, were titles like Eegah!, The Horror of Party Beach, Robot Monster and Santa Claus Conquers the Martians. All truly deserving of inclusion in a book listing the worst. Hidden in the back of the book on page 284 was something unique, a form to be cut out (or xeroxed like I did) and sent to Michael Medved in Venice, California, listing your (the reader's) favorite worst films. This little element gave a hint as to who really authored The 50 Worst Films of All Time. As was revealed a few years later, Michael Medved did the bulk of the writing. He didn't want his name associated with the book mainly because he was working at establishing a career in Hollywood as a screenwriter. It has also been established he was working as a script doctor.

Anyway, the mail-in-your-worst-films poll was counted (with yours truly prominently among the results), instigating a follow-up book, Golden Turkey Awards (Perigee Books, 1980). Here was a listing by brother authors Harry and Michael Medved (whatever became of Dreyfuss?) naming and awarding film turkeys, "Golden Turkeys" no less. This bad film label sat a little better with readers than what a popular TV critique show running at the time was using. At the end of the Siskel and Ebert show they would comment on a film they determined to be the Dog of the Week. This didn't endear them to viewers who had and loved those cinematic pet dogs.

But what about the poll's results?

As a result of the 50 Worst Films of All Time mail-in poll, the two movies that came out on top as the undeniably worst were The Exorcist II, the Heretic and Plan 9 From Outer Space. Neither were originally listed in their previous 50 Worst Films of All Time. This dubious distinction sparked the interest in Ed Wood Jr., who to this day still holds the title of the Worst Director ever. Extensive comments were included about Plan 9, Ed Wood Jr., and an overview of his films.

Four years later the Medveds published The Hollywood Hall of Shame, subtitled The Most Expensive Flops in Movie History. Nowhere is listed Ed Wood Jr. or any of his films.

And then…

Bill Warren, in his early editions of Keep Watching the Skies states "In The Golden Turkey Awards, the reprehensible Harry and Michael Medved, who consistently display a repulsively arrogant attitude toward the efforts of helplessly untalented but comparatively more sincere people…" in his commentary on Plan 9, calls their book "contemptible." By the 2010 edition of his book Warren omits the "reprehensible" and "contemptible." He adds that Harry "has reformed [at least by his standards] and has become a good writer on film subjects with a fondness for Plan 9."

In 1996 another book listing movie turkeys was published: The Worst Movies of All Time, or What Were They Thinking? (Citadel) by Michael Sauter. Not particularly well researched, it covered much the same ground as the Medved books, and then some. Wood and his films were given sporadic mention in the final part, The Baddest of the B's.

Lugosi mother rileyNow back to Joe Dante…and a wrap up with Bela and Ed Wood…

At Unkka Forry's 75th Birthday party I sat at the same table with Joe Dante. In between his signing autographs we chatted. We briefly touched on his Dante's Inferno article. Also at this party was Mark Carducci, who was finishing up filming his documentary Flying Saucers Over Hollywood, a Plan 9 Companion (1992). Dante, along with several others, spoke to the partygoers. He mentioned the whole incident about writing to Forry and eventually getting his letter listing the 50 worst films published. This section of his talk made it into Carducci's documentary. Also in the documentary are comments by Harry Medved. He revealed that he was influenced, of sorts, by Dante's Inferno. Ironically, none of the films listed in Dante's article were listed in the 50 Worst Films of All Time book. It took solicited reader response and another book to re-discover Ed Wood Jr. and his films.

Viewing and evaluating the films Bela Lugosi was appearing in towards the end of his life one can see his association with Wood wasn't the worst that could've happened to him. Wood maintained a genuine fondness for Bela and was always looking to include him in some sort of project he had going. This was to keep him active and possibly provide some money.

Two films he had appeared in just one year before Glen or Glenda stand out as being worse than anything Wood could have ever concocted: Old Mother Riley Meets the Vampire (aka Vampire over London, My Son the Vampire, King Robot, The Vampire and the Robot, ad nausem) and Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla (aka The Boys From Brooklyn).

Brooklyn Gorilla
The titles of these films alone could warn anyone away from a theater showing them. Old Mother Riley Meets the Vampire (released or escaped in the US in 1962), came about at a time when Bela was being shamelessly exploited by the Gordons, Richard and Alex. William 'One Shot' Beaudine, director of Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla, has subsequently been derided in print by Warren as well as the Medveds. How many remember Arthur Lucan, aka, Old Mother Riley? How many remember Duke Mitchell and Sammy Petrillo, the Brooklyn boys in Brooklyn Gorilla?

ZC Note: Just us bad movie buffs, at least, remember. And I'm from Brooklyn!

Monsters From the Vault Vol 16, No 29

monsters from the vault Zombos Says: Very Good

Drop everything and make like Renfield to pick up the latest Monsters From the Vault magazine, volume 16, issue number 29. In a detailed and exhaustive examination, analysis, and rebuttal that fills more than half the magazine, Gary D. Rhodes pins the fat, juicy spider of 1931's Dracula's growing cadre of deriders to the wall with academic gusto in The Curious Undead Life of Todd Browning's Dracula.

I can't think of anything Rhodes leaves out of his argument: the mystery of the now infamous piece of cardboard seen obscuring the lamp in Mina's room and the supposition that the Spanish Dracula, shot on the same sets, is superior to Browning's version are dissected frame by frame, scrutinized and compared with fervor, and refuted with quantitative information delivered deftly, blow after blow. 

Rhodes analyzes the movie within the context of the criticisms delivered by "it's key critics," disputing their assumptions. That Browning's Dracula adheres stultifyingly too closely to the play, or its cinematography is lacking when compared to the Spanish version (directed by George Melford, cinematography by George Robinson), or how Browning's pacing is slower, are some of the critiques Rhodes sinks his teeth into, managing to take quite a bite out of them in the process.

I'm not sure any other movie historian has resorted to using z-axis space to weigh the pros and cons of George Robinson's and Karl Freund's use of scene depth (Freund shows more), or has counted up the shots to prove Browning moves the camera more, and pans and tilts more than Melford did, or can state for certainty that the pacing is slower for Melford's movie at a running time of 102 minutes compared to Browning's 73; even when average shot length is taken into account. Rhodes details how Robinson uses proscenium framing considerably more than Freund, and highlights editing faux pauxs by Melford, such as the wine spilling redundancy, and the Dracula-as-bat bumping into Mina's bedroom windowpane with an audible thunk.

With a discussion of Carlos Villarias's bug-eyed acting and the use of mise-en-scene between both movies, Rhodes drives the rebuttal stake even deeper into the heart of Browning's Dracula nay-sayers. If you love the Browning/Lugosi Dracula as I do, you must read this article; if you love the Melford/Villarias Dracula, you still must read this article: hopefully it will bring you to your senses to realize Bela is best.

Famous Monsters of Filmland:
The Annotated Issue # 1

famous monsters annotated issue 1

Zombos Says: Very Good

Having acquired a distributor, Warren phoned me. “I know you’re quite serious about your films,” he said, so I’m going to tell you something and then I’m going to hold the phone a yard away from my ear because I’m sure I’ll hear you scream all the way to New York.” You, Forrest J-no-period Ackerman, are about to become editor of — are you ready for this? — FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND!”

“Oh, no! [groaned Forry Ackerman] Do I have to put my name on it!”

 

In Famous Monsters of Filmland: The Annotated Issue # 1, Joe Moe opens the vault to bring Forry’s original hand-typed and pencil-edited manuscript for the first issue of FM to light, and Kevin Burns and Dennis Billows remember the sci fi man who crash landed on Planet Horror with a shock wave still reverberating today.

I took the above quote from Forry’s Birth of a Notion, wherein he describes how FM evolved from an initial idea of doing a oneshot magazine based on the French Cinema 57 issue devoted to classic monsters, then to the idea of doing a oneshot called Wonderama (The Mag of a Thousand Faces), comprised of movie stills from Forry’s vast collection, and eventually to fate stepping in with lucky timing. Teenage horror movies were becoming hot and the magazine distributors Warren failed to impress at first with “his mad idea” suddenly remembered him: now they craved the monsters. And soon thousands of kids would crave them, too.

Burns follows with an affectionate recollection of meeting Forry for the first time, Following Forry, and Billows, “one of Forry’s most valued assistants” provides glimpses into the mettle of the man with a selection of Ackermanisms culled from tape and written interviews on why Forry collected, his first movie,  his friendship with Fritz Lang, and Forry’s touching recollection of Boris Karloff.

A room by room photo tour of the treasures in the Ackerminimansion, Forry’s last residence and smaller repository for wonders and terrors, rounds out these prefatory articles, leading into the hand-written outline for the issue’s contents and the old-fashioned typed pages, with penciled edits here and there, revealing Forry’s creative process in bringing the first issue of FM to the newstands. Earlier in Birth of a Notion, Forry mentions how Warren would hold a card in front of him as he typed. Written on the card  were the words “I’m 11 and 1/2 Years Old, and I am your reader. Forry Ackerman, Make me laugh.”

It worked.

Three Stooges Photo Printing Set

There are a few toys from my younger days that I’d love to have again: My Favorite Martian Magic Set is one and, were I to name the single most important toy nearest and dearest to me, it would have to be the Famous Monsters Yankee Photo Printing Set.

I came across these 3 Stooges Photo Printing Set images on eBay a few years ago. I wouldn’t mind having this kit, either. The chemicals, mixing trays, and orange bulb you see here are the same for the Famous Monsters Set, only the 10 negatives you get are different, of course.

The process involved placing the negative on a wallet-sized photographic paper, exposing the combination to a strong white light, then popping in the orange bulb to make your own darkroom (my bedroom floor) for developing the photograph using the chemicals and mixing trays. I’ve no doubt the mixing solutions were highly toxic. Didn’t care, still don’t. For me, this was probably the best toy offered in the pages of Famous Monsters of Filmland.

I sure got my money’s worth.

3 stooges photo printing kit

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3 stooges photo printing kit

famous monsters photo printing kit

Fantastic Monsters Magazine Club
by Professor Kinema

FanMo02
In the pre-flea market, pre-yardsale and pre Ebay days of my youth, a truly exciting place to visit and spend my meager allowance was the Farmer's Market. In concept it seemed to exist somewhere between a wholesale produce market and antique barn. One cubicle was always immediately searched out and perused by me. This area contained a variety of notions (such as rubber monster masks, whoopie cushions, kazoos, etc) and back issues of comics and monster magazines. These periodicals always seemed to be in pretty good condition, except for the tops of the front covers. These were savagely removed, probably by something like a box cutter. I was informed later that this was done so the individual dealer, at the time, could return these sliced off sections of the front covers for credit. The rest of the magazines were subsequently sold to vendors, by weight. Then these vendors, who occupied these cubicles in the Farmer's Markets, would in turn re-sell them, usually for the affordable price of 5 cents per copy. This was definitely within my pre-teen budget.

Perusing the monster magazines I first set my eyes on Fantastic Monsters of the Screen. Having regularly purchased copies of FM and CofF for some time before and since, these seemed almost as interesting. For the grand total of 25 cents I bought the first five (of seven total) issues. This was after carefully perusing all of the available copies. All had that cut across the top, with the titles removed, as well as corresponding portions of several pages beneath. The person who wielded the mutilating box cutter was probably in a hurry. For a nickel apiece, I wasn't planning to save these as collectibles but, rather, to further mutilate them. As did many monster magazine readers of the era, my plans for these issues was to remove the illos of the monsters. These, in turn, would either go into some sort of personal album or decorate the walls of my bed room. I wasn't planning to use anything like a box cutter, though.

As was the case in the other monster mags I acquired, the ads towards the back of the issue were of interest. These were pages filled with the usual 'cool stuff' which went beyond what the vendor in the Farmer's Market had for sale. Two small ads were unique. One was for sets of color slides of 'Hollywood Monsters' and the other was for a 50 foot reel of 8mm film and 100 foot reel of 16mm film of 'Filmland Monsters.' Both ads were illustrated with familiar monsters. The ad copy read: See the Hideous Three Eyed Atomic Mutation, the She Creature, the Crawling Claw, the Smashing Awesome Amphibian…and, the Mushroom Monster from Venus! The illos of the slides matched the subjects of the film footage. Both ads had the same address: Golden Eagle Films of Topanga, California. Of all of the items offered for sale in any of the monster magazines I had ever possessed, these interested me most.

FanMo01 However, since it was a year or two past the publication dates of Fantastic Monsters (which appeared between 1962-63) I thought the magazine had stopped publishing, and the company – Golden Eagle Films – had long since gone out of existence, along with all of these precious items.. That was that, I surmised.

A friend, and fellow collector, years later lamented that I should have at least dropped a note to Golden Eagle Films at the Topanga Canyon address and inquired if any of the advertised treasures were still available. Thinking back, I figured what a totally logical and terrific idea. It would have been a 50/50 chance. Paul Blaisdell, editor of Fantastic Magazine and seller of the desired items, still lived in Topanga Canyon. He died there in 1983 at the 'youthful' age of 55.

In the few brief, but pleasant, conversations I had with collector Bob Burns, he told me that along with being an accomplished illustrator, sculptor and model maker, Paul Blaisdel was also an accomplished photographer. He often made photographic records during the planning, constructing and usage of his monstrous creations. His medium included color slides and film, 16mm film and stereoscopic photos. American International allowed him to market any and all color slides that he personally took of his 'creations' as well as a limited amount of the film footage that was used in their feature productions. The limitation was that footage of the creatures could be included as long as the featured players were not. This is what comprised the 5 sets of slides as well as what was featured in the 50ft and 100ft of 8mm & 16mm film – in 'sparkling black and white.'

Had I managed to track down these mail order items they would truly be valued collectibles.

All that would be needed next to create the ultimate collectible package would have been the Fantastic Monsters Club package. This consisted of a 'blood red membership card,' a free monster photo (of a Blaisdell creature, natch), an exclusive member's bulletin complete with a secret message and strange facts, plus a year's subscription to Fantastic Monsters. All this for $3! Including the 5 sets of monster slides @ $1 apiece and the 8mm film @ $2–I would also have had to acquire the 16mm film @ $6–this monsterkid would have had to shell out a grand total of $16 (not counting postage) at the time.

The value of all of this in today's collectibles market? Who knows?

Jack Davis Frankenstein Pin-up

I never really liked the Jack Davis Frankenstein pin-up, so I didn't get that promised "100 hours of laughs and thrills." Don't get me wrong, it's a great drawing, but maybe it's that fuzzy vest, annoying me deep down on some Pavlovian level. My mom bought me one of those Carnaby Street Mod vests on a whim. Seriously. She expected me to wear it to school, looking like some Michael Saracin wannabe in it. Maybe that's why I don't like this poster.

FM03

More Famous Monsters Back Covers

More promotional Famous Monsters of Filmland back covers from Professor Kinema. I seriously doubt any reader wound up with one million  dollars, fantastic secret or not, but I'll bet lots of kids spent the money in their imagination while trying to win it. I met Robert Lansing (4D Man) and sold an accounting program to him  way back in the 1980s, while I was working at B. Dalton's Software Etc. store on 5th Avenue in New York City. He was shorter than I imagined.

  FM06

FM10

FM13

Famous Monsters Back Cover:
What Will He Find?

Before Warren Publishing realized the importance of advertising merchandise on their back covers, early issues of Famous Monsters of Filmland promoted the magazine with simple yet striking black and white pictures and text instead. From Professor Kinema's FM collection comes this visually effective promo using big Tor Johnson and big letters to ask the question…

FM15