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Reflections

They Tore Down Paradise…
And the Movie Theaters of Our Dreams
Part 2

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With the kind permission of Brian Bukantis (Arena Publishing) and the author Dr. Vollin (Freddie Poe), I’m happy to be able to reprint Dr. V’s article, They Tore Down Paradise…And Put Up a Parking Lot, which originally appeared in the May issue of Movie Collector’s World, No. 683, 2005. Here’s Part 2.

 

Warner-theater

Dr. Vollin’s old stomping ground, the Warner Theatre

My first visit was to the newspaper clippings files at the Worcester Public Library. I spent six hours perusing articles pertaining to the old movie houses, but because the newsprint paper was so old and faded, making copies was a waste of good money. I could have bought a nice lobby card with the money I spent on worthless, unreadable scans. That led me to inquire about the photo archives contained in The Worcester Telegram building.

Not everyone is allowed to rummage through the city newspaper’s photo archives, so first I had to be cleared by the managing editor as to what these photos were to be used for. I informed the nice lady that I would not be making money off them, and that the Worcester Telegram would be given full credit for any photos I may use from their archives. She then told me I would have to pay “x amount of dollars per photo” whether they were 8x10s or transfers to a disc. Naturally, with no other recourse, I agreed. After that, I would have to meet with the archive librarian so he could locate the photos I needed, and then meet with the photo lab crew to have the prints made. With this task checked off, I proceeded to the next ones. I would have to go downtown and photograph the existing theaters and the sites of the defunct ones. Plus, I had my morning coffee meetings with Johnny DiBenedetto, to add his expertise on the subject. But this article for Movie Collector’s World was to be a labor of love, so I dove in.

Taking my gig to the streets of Worcester did not go without incident. While photographing the building where the Warner Theatre once stood, I was approached by a local wannabe gang-banger. He stood there eyeballing me. I stared back at him. Finally he spoke: “Yo, I hope you’re not takin’ my picture Yo?” “Why? Who are you? I asked. “None of your business. Just don’t be taking my picture yo…” “Don’t worry, no one’s taking your picture. You ain’t no headliner,” I countered.

When he figured out he was not scaring me nor was he going to confiscate my camera he departed, periodically glancing back over his shoulder. The fact that I’m 6-foot and 200 pounds, with a “go ahead make my day” attitude, may also have been a deciding factor for him to go on his merry gang-banging way. Smart move, Yo.

I then followed up on an appointment to visit the Worcester Telegram Photo Library. When I arrived I was met by the head librarian, who led me to a room filled with filing cabinets. He had already located the files I was looking for. He pushed them across the desk and told me to take my time. It didn’t take too long to find the examples I was looking for, but I couldn’t help but look at every photo in the stack. I would have liked to have bought one copy of each for nostalgia’s sake, but after reading their price list, I realized that they were not there to be in the photo business. Their price list was probably made up for the mother who wanted to buy a photo of her son hitting the winning home run in a little league game. The photos I wanted came to $160.00, which was a bit much for a contribution article, so I opted for putting the photos to a disc for a lot less. While I was paying for them, it hit me. I’m what they call a “retirw.” That’s a writer who pays to write instead of getting paid. It’s all backwards but I guess it’s a lofty position to be in. Right?

A Rich History

Naturally, the first theatres in Worcester were not erected as movie houses. In 1857, William Piper built Worcester’s first playhouse located at 10-14 Front Street, across from Worcester’s City Hall. It was originally called Piper’s Worcester Theatre and later, the Athenaeum, the Musee, the Front Street Opera House, and the Park.

Pipers-theater

Former location of Piper’s Theatre

In 1863, the stage at Piper’s Theatre featured Shakespeare’s King Richard the Third, starring none other than actor John Wilkes Booth in the leading role. Well, we all know what he did at Ford’s Theatre 2 years later in 1865. This building still stands but wears a different face (shown at left).

After the turn of the century most all of the old playhouses in Worcester, and there were many, unknowingly were about to morph into something that would change the entertainment world forever. Renovations would be made to accommodate the coming of the motion picture; screens and projection booths were installed and many of the theaters changed names. Still, for some time to come, the motion picture shared the stage with Vaudeville acts, musical revues and plays. But by the time the silent movies went to sound, live acts started to diminish and the movie theater reigned supreme.

Worcester Theatres

THE PLEASANT STREET PLAYHOUSE -17 Pleasant Street – Seating Capacity 1,300

Built in 1891, the Pleasant Street Playhouse, originally a live act venue, changed it’s name to The Pleasant Street Theater with the coming of the silent film. In the 1940’s, with the movie industry in full swing, the theatre changed it’s name to The Olympia Theater, and by 1956 was renamed the Fine Arts when it was sold to Boston millionaire E. M. Loew (Elias M. Loew). It opened with Diabolique starring Simone Signoret.

Fine-arts-theater

The Fine Arts Theater in Distress

In the late 1960s, the Fine Arts started showing risque foreign films or “art films” as they were commonly referred to. It remained the Fine Arts until 1984 when it again changed ownership. Today this historic building still stands at it’s original site and is called Art Theater, which now shows pornographic films. Sadly, this is one of the last movie theatres still standing in downtown Worcester. I have not been inside the Fine Arts since I saw Flipper there in 1963. I don’t think I’ll be checking it out any time in the near future.

THE RIALTO– 33/45 Millbury Street – Seating Capacity 1,280

The Rialto was way before my time, having been stablished in 1918 by the Fedeli Brothers, Fred and Joe. It was an escape from reality for many depression-era Worcester residents. A ten-cent movie house, it gave away free dinnerware to all it’s patrons. Worcesterites of the era ate many a meal off the Rialto’s free dinnerware. I believe this was an ongoing practice in other theaters as well.

At the Rialto, you could catch a Pathe or Movietone newsreel, along with a serial chapter from Flash Gordon or Tarzan, followed by a cartoon and a feature film, of perhaps Tom Mix or Hop-A-Long Cassidy. The Fedeli Brothers got their start in the movie business at the Bijou Theater, located just across the street. The Rialto closed it’s ancient doors in 1959 giving up part of its building to the Interstate-290 project. The remaining portion of the building burned to the ground in 1988. A new building stands on the site.

THE ROYAL– Main Street – Seating Capacity 750

Another depression-era movie house was the Royal, located next door to the Worcester Market, Worcester’s first and largest super market. The Royal, like the Rialto, also featured “spectaculars” much to the enjoyment of the “knickered youths” of the neighborhood. The Royal closed it’s doors in 1955 when owner E.M. Loew gave up it’s interests after a 10year run. The block on which it stood was torn down and is now the site of the Registry Of Motor Vehicles.

THE STRAND– Front Street – Seating Capacity 1,500

Just a few doors down from where Piper opened Worcester’s first theatre was the Strand, a popular 1940’s movie house, which later changed its name to the Warner Theater in the 1950s. The Warner was one of the many theaters located on Front Street, Worcester’s second biggest street at the time.

I frequented the Warner often in the early 1960’s. Some of my fondest memories are from movies I saw at the Warner, like The Alamo, How The West Was Won, and my favorite Hammer double feature release Curse Of The Mummy’s Tomb and The Gorgon, complete with a monster trading stamp give-away . By the mid 1960’s the building that housed the Warner Theater, like so many others, had been slated for renovation. The building still stands today in the form of an office building.

THE CAPITOL-Franklin Street – Seating Capacity-1,500

The Capitol Theater was the only theatre on Franklin Street, which ran parallel to Front Street. It opened on Christmas day in 1926 and boasted a giant custom-made Wurlitzer organ, equipped with a device called a “toy counter” which enabled the organist to make sound effects to accompany silent era films. It also contained a feature called vox humana, which mimicked the female singing voice. The organ was originally purchased for $35,000, an astronomical amount for the day. In 1964, after sitting idle for 20 years, the organ was purchased by a local college and put back into use.

Capitol-theater

The Capitol Theater

I’ll never forget seeing a great double feature at the Capitol in 1963, The Horror Chamber Of Dr. Faustus and The Manster. The last movie I saw there, while it was still called the Capitol, was William Castle’s I Know Who You Are And Saw What You Did in 1965. The Capitol closed down briefly in 1966 for renovation and reopened as the Paris Cinema in 1967, premiering with Bonnie and Clyde, which I viewed five times in one week.

One thing I remember about the Capitol was the ornate ceiling. It was painted like the heavens. It almost looked like a planetarium. You couldn’t help but to stare up at it. In the 1970s the Paris Cinema branched out into the showing of “midnight movies”. I saw many a great midnight flick at the Paris: Mark Of the Devil, Reefer Madness, Last House On The Left, A Clockwork Orange, Vanishing Point and The Performance with Mick Jagger.

If you look at the picture of the Capitol that I have provided, you will see a bookstore to the left. This is where Al Astrella (former Wormtowner, now in Santa Cruz, CA) and I would buy our back issues of Famous Monsters magazine.

In the 1980s the Paris suffered the same fate as the Fine Arts and started showing pornographic material, both “adult” and “adonis”. Just a few months ago, the Paris was raided by the Worcester Vice Squad to find live, multiple partner, sex acts going on in a second floor theater. What a shameful ending to one of Worcester’s finest old movie theaters.

Read Part 3

They Tore Down Paradise…
And the Movie Theaters of Our Dreams
Part 1

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Movie-collectors-world-683With the kind permission of Brian Bukantis (Arena Publishing) and the author Dr. Vollin (Freddie Poe), I’m happy to be able to reprint Dr. V’s article, They Tore Down Paradise…And Put Up a Parking Lot, which originally appeared in the May issue of Movie Collector’s World, No. 683,  2005.

Many of you have heard me speak or write about the glory days of movie-going in my home town of Worcester, Massachusetts. The idea for this article came from my frequenting a local Honey Dew Doughnut Shop. While sitting there at 8:00 in the morning one day, sipping my usual eye-opener, I noticed an elderly man doing likewise and I thought to myself “Where do I know this guy from, he looks awful familiar.” I never forget a face–a name maybe–but not a face.

I continued seeing this man at the coffee shop for some time, until one day while sitting next to him, being the social butterfly that I am, I leaned toward him and said “Excuse me. I know you from somewhere but I can’t recall from where?” He replied “Well, my name is John DiBenedetto.  I used to be the manager of the old Poli Palace in downtown Worcester.” “Oh wow!” I said, “now I remember you! I used to go to the Poli when I was a kid! You haven’t changed much at all. Sure. I remember you. You were always dressed up nice, with a suit and all. Wow, nice to meet you!”

My new found friend seemed thrilled that I had remembered him; after all, it was almost 40 years ago. I told John that I was a writer and wrote about collecting old movie paper, mainly from the horror genre. John, now a spunky 83, immediately started to reminisce about the bygone days of the movie theater industry in Worcester. We spoke briefly that day, but before we parted I told John that I would love to do a piece about him and the old movie theaters here in Worcester. And would he mind having his brain picked by the “Doctor”? John told me he stopped into Honey Dew everyday between 8:00 and 8:30 a.m. and that he would be glad to talk about his days as manager of the Poli Palace, Worcester’s premiere movie house of it’s era. Hence the birth of this article.

Loew-poli-elm-theater
The screw started to turn in this half-century old cranium of mine. I started to think about how great it was going to the movies as a pre-teen in the early 1960s. Only movie fans my age or older can remember the old school movie theaters. If you missed the 1960s and started attending movies in the mid to late 1970s, I feel bad for you. If the megaplex movie theater, showing four or more films at once, is all you can recall, then you missed the true experience of movie-going as it was once known.

While this story may seem to be personalized, or only about my locale, it really is not: it is possibly and probably the story of almost every movie theater of my era. What happened here in Worcester, Massachusetts, once a movie theater hot-bed, happened in every town everywhere almost simultaneously,  and across the U.S.A movie theaters closed, one after another.

I consider it a high point in my life to have stepped through the portals of the past into the lobbies of these grand old movie theaters, before they gave way to urban development and the wrecking ball, and the megaplex format (sorry, no lobby posters for you, you saw the previews on the boob tube anyway). Writing this article was going to be a different stroke of the pen for yours truly. Most of my research went on right here in my office at the House Of Poe, with the exception of my annual Chiller article, which I outlined while on locale in the swamps of New Jersey.

But this article involved legwork…

Go to Part 2.

What I’d Like to See in Horror Movies for 2012

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egyptian theater

Egyptian Theater Concession Stand, 1935

With all the Best Of lists for 2011, promising lists for 2012, and wishful thinking commentaries floating around as the 2012 movie season kicks into gear, I thought I'd share with you what I'm hoping to see more of this year in horror.

Reviewing movies to provide nominations for B-Sol's Vault of Horror Cyber Horror Awards has put me into a learning and yearning frame of mind, which naturally leads to reflection on those character and story elements in modern horror you just don't see enough of these days. And with movies like Underworld: Awakening regurgitating the usual unimaginative pablum audiences scarf down all too easily with their popcorn, a more refined palatte is left wanting–starving actually–for better artistic and involving fare. Granted upcoming movies like The Woman in Black and Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter have me hopeful for some good classic scares and attentive direction, I'm still worried we might see more of the same old dreck creating the same old box office wreck.

So here's what I'd like to see more of in horror movies for 2012:

Fewer Dumbass Victims — enough already with screaming mimis who have no character depth beyond video game stats and stereotypical behaviors. Are we not men? Are we not women? It's time for characters in horror movies, both young and old, to stand up and be counted as important, living, breathing, beings with souls, and not just expendable appendages and body count possibilities. Make me care, people!

Fewer Romantic Vampires–I admit I'm a fan of Twilight, to a point. I'm all for expanding the landscape into softer areas not always deemed acceptable by hardcore genre fans. But give us back the completely evil, the unstoppable blood draining machines with no souls or compassion, who relish the carnage they bring. Honestly, Abe Lincoln, I'm talking to you!

Scarier Movies–all I'm saying is The Woman in Black better be pitch dark scary. Paranormal Activity brought back the scares, but it is overstaying its welcome. What's needed now is a good supernatural terror, borne of tragedy, winged with malice. Make me dread the dark spaces in the far corners of the room once again for 2012. 

Much Less CGI, More REAL Special Effects–let's face it, when CGI figures heavily into it, a script's important pacing and character motivations fly out the window. What's left are hey, I've got this cool image we can do approach that kills suspenseful drama and leads to shakycam pyrotechnics to cover its impracticality. I'd like to see more real special effects instead of animated cartoon monsters and setpieces, or be damn sure to make it more believable, at least.

Stronger Female Characters–you'd think most women in horror movies are easy prey, and always looking for a good time, or are morally loose, and wear impractical clothing on hunting trips, and run straight into danger on cue, and scream a lot when any sound means instant death. How much longer are we going to have to suffer through these slasher-convenient, male-centric wet dreams of slaughter? Grow up, already!

No 3D, Really, Please, NO 3D–after suffering through post-production 3D-itis, I can emphatically state that if you don't know what you're doing, then 3D's a quick gimmick to add to the ticket price to make fast money before the audience catches on to your incompetence. Either know what you're going to do with it or leave it out. This is one movie gimmick that's mostly no fun when used in a horror movie.

Memorable Monsters–when was the last time we had a memorable monster? Yeah, that's right. 

I'm sure I could add to this list, but if I could just see a little more of any of these, I'd be thrilled. Here's looking at you, 2012. 

Fezzes are Cool

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bela dracula sideshow with fezZombos' doesn't quite agree, but me and Dr. Who do: Fezzes are cool! I spotted this one at an antique show, but so did my Uncle Bob. He has a keen eye. He also has longer arms, so he grabbed it first. I pined away for months, knowing that the only true home for it was atop Bela's head. 

For my 56th birthday my uncle surprised me by presenting the fez to me. Now I and Bela are truly happy. I recommend fezzes for everone's 56th birthday. Whether you have an urge to be a Son of the Desert, a desire to belong to a secret society that everyone knows about,  or just need that finishing touch for your crimson velvet smoking jacket, remember, fezzes are cool!

  bela dracula sideshow with fez

bela dracula sideshow with fez

Barnes & Nook: The Borders Are Narrowing

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Netlfix_nookThe recent news that Barnes & Noble is tinkering with their Nook business and may spin it off from its core bookstore business is like deja vue all over again. They aren't Netflix, of course, but boy it does sound a lot like the potential to deflate what little bookstore business their doing now is growing tangible.

I say little because each time I walk into my local B&N its core bookstore business appears smaller than before. Sure, you've got Starbucks (love the Starbucks), and you've got the usual top of the heap of what's selling in print; but missing are the carousels of books because they've been replaced with carousels of googaws, cutesies, games, and touchy-feely items that didn't bring me into the store in the first place. Okay, yes, the Starbucks did–guilty–but I still like to walk around with my coffee to peruse the shelves, especially the horror and movie sections. That is, until the bookshelves started disappearing, taking all those potentially perusable books with them.

I'll be frank. I buy a lot of books on Amazon. Do I go into a bookstore to look at a book then buy it cheaper on Amazon? No. Yes. Well, maybe. If the book's a lot cheaper and I'm not in a rush, sure. If the book's only a little cheaper, I'll buy it from the bookstore. And there have been times when I just couldn't wait after perusing the book and had to have it then and there. My point is I find browsing books at a bookstore a heck of a lot more fun than trying to browse for books online, and I'll pay more for the convenience and the empowerment it gives. Many times I've gone over to the movie section and found books I'd never have thought of searching for. Sold! Other times B&N forced me to get a book on Amazon because they didn't carry it in that store's stock, but they could order it for me. Shoot,  I can order it online, myself. Amazon Prime, baby! These days I've been spending much more time at a bookstore in Huntington called Book Revue. Loads of used-books, great prices, and a boffo movie section. And they've got a cafe, too. Sweet.

I wonder when B&N will be run by booklovers again? 

Right now the heart of my B&N store is taken up by the Nook, its accessories, its antecedents, and its ne'er do well digital cousins. I like the Nook. I like Kindle. I like ebooks, mostly. But electronics sales belong in Best Buy, Target, and a heck of a lot of other places more suitable. Sure, a sales counter for Nooks is fine; devoting a huge portion of the bookstore to push digital readers isn't. Where are the damn books? And I don't mean the best-sellers, the pampering twaddle of self-help, feel-good, look-good pablum piled high on the discount tables. There are enough of those. I mean the treasures to be found in horror, science fiction, and fantasy books, the non-fiction books, the books that don't fit easily into the ludicrous categories that have sprung up to legitamize and commercialize nonsense. 

Oh, wait, those shelves aren't there anymore. Tic-Tac-Toe in wood, anyone?

What I'd rather see– I'm sure many print book readers would agree with me–is more books TO SEE. Borders started acting like my local Stop and Shop, cramming every non-book fluff item to boost sales, and it led them slowly out the door. I'm afraid B&N's strategy is leading them out that same door. Once they dissociate from the Nook, what's left? More shelves full of games and toys and puzzles? Or more books?

I'm holding my breadth to find out. 

Enough With Mockumentary Gimmickry Already

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JawsTo Whom It May Concern:

Please stop making mockumentary movies told through found-footage video.

Really. Please. Stop.

While it started as a creative and novel tool to boost audience anxiety levels and heighten dramatic effects, stretching the confines of a limited budget, its overuse has forced a predictable repetitiveness that now is clearly used only to trim budgets, lessen the cinematography burden, and shorten script development (aka, needing a full script that tells a complete story; aka paying for good writers).

Too often now an audience is tasked with piecing together a fragmented story from time-chopped snippets of supposed found-footage, comprised of interminable, ho-hum-boring, inaction inserted between herky-jerky-murky scenes flitting by, fast and furious, leaving audiences alternating between picking popcorn from their teeth or struggling to comprehend what’s happening.

It wasn’t like this in the beginning.

Cannibal Holocaust, The Last Broadcast and The Blair Witch Project were ground-breaking, scary, and enhanced by these techniques. By the time Cloverfield, [REC], and Paranormal Activity had arrived, the handheld camera as documentor absolute, had begun to stretch credulity by forcing us to assume a person, within the context of each movie’s situation, could constantly keep a handheld camera rolling in the most dire situations, disregarding personal safety, and even life and limb. Of course, in plots where a mockumentary is an integral stimulus for the story such as Troll Hunter, The Last Exorcist, and to a lesser extent, Diary of the Dead, it is easier to suspend disbelief because of their natural-use context .

But incessant hand-holding cameras have certainly jumped the shark with Apollo 18 and quite possibly Paranormal Activity 3. Can anyone honestly say these movies, and the other ones lined up in the queue, use the mockumentary and found-footage techniques because their stories demand such use and couldn’t be told in another way? Or has Hollywood and independent filmmakers resorted to using “found-footage” because it’s convenient for cutting corners in the production process and camouflaging their LESS as MORE from the audience? Certainly, in the case of the Paranormal Activity franchise, if forced to stay within the confines of its mockumentary format, we will be forced to view its continuing hauntings through kodachrome, kinetascope, and eventually daguerreotypes, respectively.

So where do we go from here?

I implore you to drop the gimmicky overuse of the mockumentary and found-footage formats from horror movies and return to telling stories in a more demanding but visually satisfying way (aka drop the cheapening shaky-cam and off action angles), with well-written scenes devoid of stupefying inaction to pad out the minutes, and with properly fleshed out characters whose revealing dialog holds our attention. And then sufficiently light  it all so we can see what the hell’s happening to them.

Please. Really. Stop.

Final Destination 5
Ode On A Deathly Turn

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Urn

THOU 5th installment of gory loudness,

Thou oft repeated script of messy deaths in time and time again,

Cinema horror fan, who canst thus express

Such bread and butter tales more bloodily than our rhyme:

What bowel-fringed tissue fragments haunt about thy screen

Round loose heads or flopping appendages, or of both,

In air flying or across floors smearing, outside or in?

What victims are these? What maidens quartered thus?

Which death pursues? What struggle to escape when sequels beckon?

What screams and entrails? What wild ecstatic gore?

Seen terminus’s are sweet, but those bleeding reddest

  Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft impalings, gut on;

Not to the sensual eye, but, more endear’d,

Slice to the entrails, tear the eyes, these messy ditties:

Fair youth, beneath the car, thou canst not breath

  Thy song of fear, nor ever can these scenes be fair;

Bold victim, never, never canst thou live,

Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;

You cannot fade, though thou hast not thy stomach nor other bodily parts,

For ever wilt thou die, for Death be not fair!

Ah, happy, happy fans! that cannot shed

  Your quest for gore, nor ever bid the grue adieu;

And, happy dramatist, unwearièd,

For ever piping scripts for ever over and over again;

More happy death! more happy, happy death!

For ever breathing warm, and wet, sopped to overflowing,

For ever panting, and for ever young;

All breathing human misery far above,

That leaves a heart bursting forth, and cloyed over rest,

On burning forehead, a dislodged tongue, or cleaved breast.

Who are these critics coming to the sacrifice?

To what film altar, O mysterious critic,

Lead’st thou that review lowing at the tale,

And all its slimey flanks with gorelands drest?

What nestled town by river or sea-shore,

Or home-built citadel in city or temple,

Is emptied of its victims, this pious morn?

And, nestled town, thy streets for evermore

  Will no longer silent be; and not a soul, to tell

    Why thou’s art’s so desolate, can e’er return,

Till sequel plays havoc once again.

O terror shape! fear attitude! with dread

Of creature men and bosomy maidens overwrought,

With frightful branches thick with the trodden bowels;

  Thou, noisome form! dost tease us out of thought

As doth eternity: Cold tableau!

When old age shall this generation waste,

Thou shalt remain, to kindle other woe, more

  Than ours, a fiend to all, to whom thou say’st,

‘Horror is truth, truth horror,—that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know,

Till the next final destination.

 

by John M. “Keets” Cozzoli

Gullibles Travels
Or, Been There And Back Again

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Donkeys_assWith the Rapture soon upon us–not, I take comfort in reading the many books on the folly of crowds, parade of madness-spouting end-of-dayers, and unfathomable stupidity of endlessly gullible followers who apparently have no day job to keep them busy. And yes, I believe in God, but not the religions that have sprung up like weeds, so intent on constantly interpreting the Word. Neither do I suffer the doomsday prognostications of silly interpreters who–seriously–need to brush up on their spiritual language skills. And since God's busy running the Universe, he leaves us alone to make our own decisions, no strings attached. The only strings are the ones we pull, and boy, there are a lot of puppets doing crazy dances out there.

Me, I'm going to IHOP tomorrow and getting a big honking stack of pancakes to celebrate another doomsday missed, but not forgotten. Any of you Rapture folk want to join me, I'm buying.  Besides, it's not even 2012 yet!

  • Extraordinary Delusions and the Madness of Crowds by Charles MacKay — now available for 99 cents as a Kindle ebook. Like a circus sideshow, you will be amazed and amused, but here it's how dumb people can be enraptured in the ballyhoo of the masses.
  • The Crowd: A Study of the Popular Mind by Gustave Le Bon — written in the 1800s so language and discussion is based on the time period and its events. Still contains valuable insights on "crowd contol."
  • How to Be a Charlatan and Make Millions by Jim Williams — ten lessons in cheating, lying, and taking advantage of the gullible to reach the top of the heap.
  • Mystics and Messiahs: Cults and New Religions in American History by Philip Jenkins — yeah, what's new is old is new again.

For those disapppointed the world is still here come May 22, get over it.

Straitjacket: Tales of Fantasy to Escape With

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20110223093457_001 I recently reorganized my library and came across this fanzine I almost started when I was 19 . I say almost because after printing up the first issue of Straitjacket: Tales of Fantasy to Escape With, Phil Seuling's assessment of it made me tuck my tail between my legs and hide the issue.

He avoided me as long as he could at the 1975 Comic Art Convention in New York City, but I finally pinned him down. He didn't want to hurt my feelings, but he also was a professional and told me why my little endeavor wasn't very professional. After doing all that mechanical paste up and typing on a borrowed clunker's rigid keys to put it together, I didn't put up much of a fight. He was right. He was a good friend.

But for posterity, here's the first story I ever wrote, the Waters From Merom. I think I've gotten better, but when I get up enough courage to actually send out my recent work, I'm sure I'll find out one way or the other. My story appeared in another fanzine around that time, though I can't think of its name.  Lovecraft was and still is a heavy influence on me.

Just don't forget I was 19 at the time and it's my first story. I can't take any more criticism right now. Don't even bother asking about my pseudonym. My mind's drawing a blank on that one.

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They’re Closing My Borders Bookstore

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Borders_store_closing Do you remember the Night Gallery episode, They're Tearing Down Tim Riley's Bar? It's the matching bookend to Rod Serling's Twilight Zone episode, Walking Distance.

They aren't horrific in the usual sense of the word, but they're both terrifying nonetheless. Both are about time marching on and how change happens around you, through you, in spite of you, and how you don't change–because you can't or won't or just plain get your butt stuck in the middle.

A transcendental fly, mired on some decade by decade sticky paper, you keep wiggling your little life's butt–and go nowhere. The kicker is you're still moving, even though you're ass isn't. You have no choice. Time's beating it's chronological fly swatter, hard, around you, swiping out the places, the people, and eventually all the sweet things you buzz around. And it sucks having to watch them go.

I'm going to miss the Borders they're closing in Westbury. It is better than Tim Riley's bar. It is close. It is convenient. It is comforting. It's where I spent time watching my son grow up from reading picture books to young adult vampire novels. It's where, after Tower Records crashed, my next favorite magazine place–before Borders downsized the racks–kept me coming back for new issues, fresh coffee, and stale pastries. It's where my family goes a few times each month to browse, to lounge, to explore. To be a family.

You remember browsing, don't you? It's a quaint ritual–not the same as web surfing–a little bitty thing, where you make time stand still on purpose, and directionless, so you can peek and prod around the usually hidden edges of may-be-interesting.

Catch my drift? Catch my key action word here? I don't think Borders did. In time it became too often that too few books and magazines were there to browse. Too often I was told the bookstore could order it for me, and I'll see it in a few days. Why bother? I can order online and get it faster.

I'm kind of sad, kind of annoyed. Bookstores are like libraries. There's something reassuring in being able to walk up and down their aisles, directionless, timeless, without a search query based on what somebody else thinks I'm looking for pointing the way. And when you've done it for a time in the same place, you start feeling like that guy in They're Tearing Down Tim Riley's Bar, even if you only drink coffee, and even though they're just books after all, when it goes away.

It’s 5 Movie Gimmicks Time!

/ Professor Kinema Archives, Reflections / Leave a Comment

Five movie gimmicks to pack the seats, for your edification pleasure. Lobby cards from Professor Kinema’s files.

Percepto and The Tingler

“Percepto! was a gimmick where William Castle attached electrical “buzzers” to the underside of several seats in movie theaters where The Tingler was scheduled to be screened. The buzzers were small surplus vibrators left over from World War II. The cost of this equipment added $250,000 to the film’s budget. It was predominantly used in the larger theaters. During the climax of the film, The Tingler was depicted escaping into a generic movie theater. On screen the projected film appeared to break as the silhouette of the tingler moved across the projection beam. The film went black, all lights in the auditorium (except fire exit signs) were turned off, and Vincent Price’s voice warned the audience “The Tingler is loose in THIS theater! Scream! Scream for your lives!” This cued the theatre projectionist to activate the buzzers and give several audience members an unexpected jolt.”  (from Wikipedia)

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Psychorama and My World Dies Screaming 

“In 1958, a film called My World Dies Screaming (later retitled Terror in the Haunted House) marked Hollywood’s first attempt to make use of this technique. At different points in this film, a skull is flashed to inspire terror, a snake to inspire hate, two hearts to inspire love, and large letters spelling out “blood” to create fear. The following year, 1959, saw another film produced using this same format, titled A Date with Death. Both movies starred Gerald Mohr. ” (from Wikipedia)

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The Screaming Skull and Free Burial Services

“The Screaming Skull begins with a voiceover explaining that the film is so frightening it may kill members of the audience, and that American International Pictures is prepared to pay for any burial services and funeral costs. During the voiceover, the camera pans inside an empty casket containing a note that reads “Reserved for you” “. (from Wikipedia)

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Hynovista and Horrors of the Black Museum

“In the opening prologue [of Horrors of the Black Museum], a “real hypnotist” actually hypnotizes the audience, giving them “hypnovision”, so that they will fully experience every thrilling moment of the film: see the vat of death!; feel the icy hands!; see the binocular murder!; and feel the tightening noose! Hypnovista was used only once – apparently not enough qualified hypnotists to go around for future film releases.” (from the Script Lab)

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Cannibal Girls and the Warning Bell

“It is about three young women being led by a Reverend who preaches cannibalism. The story gives off an urban legend feel, and was made as a spoof of traditional horror films. This cult movie is known for the ‘warning bell’ gimmick, which rang in theatres to warn the more squeamish members of the audience for impending gory scenes.” (from Wikipedia)

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You Are What You Ignore

/ Reflections / 2 Comments

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Horror movies are fun. I don't deny that. And I argue that they have their place in society–they show the evil that resides in the human heart and our desperate need both for God and for a savior. Since all films, all stories are, in effect, instruction manuals on how to live within this world, horror films must not operate by a different set of rules. When films give bad life-lessons, they should be called out for what they are: just plain wrong. (Scot Nehring, Godzilla is Dead: The New Brand of Japanese Horror Films)

In Scott Nehring's January Movies and Culture Report, the article Godzilla is Dead: The New Brand of Japanese Horror Films takes on torture porn and the dominance of nihilism in modern horror movies, or as he calls them, troubling productions. I agree with his reasoning but disagree with his conclusions and how he views horror through his Christian lens: distortion comes from using that lens.

To be fair, I will describe the lens I use before dissenting. I'm not a Christian, but I grew up Catholic (in body, not spirit). I don't attend mass, do not fear nor worship God, and, mostly, find all organized religions (sorry Wiccans, you too) a pain in the sacrosanct. Every religion has its doctrines, its rules of belief, and its rewards and punishments (payable now or later). All of these things confound the spiritual journey, more than enlightening it, with their stress on diety worship  over basic principles of morality and humanity.

Do I believe in God? Certainly. Is this a paradox? Hardly.

Prime Mover, doting omnipotent Father (or Mother), Heaven's Landlord, whatever you believe the nature of God to be it is just that, a belief. No proof of purchase necessary, although, Lord knows, there are many who must prove their beliefs well until Hell freezes over. I believe because it's difficult for me to watch the Wu Li Masters dancing while the stars shimmer overhead, and not wonder at the precise syncopation of their feet staying in step to the melody of the universe. So for me, you might say God's the drummer with an endless repertoire that keeps the party swinging. Whether or not you also hear those drums will not brighten or spoil my day; my ears, my eyes, you know? My lens.

For the rest of us, God can be the Boss, the Governator, the Worshippee, the Savior, the Judge and Jury, the Blamer, the Excuse, the Accuser, the Censor, the Pillory, and so much less or so much more. Do I really need to continue? You already know what God means to you. And I'll wager you ignore the rest, too. We all do to some extent. Ignorance is blissfully conducive to self-serving reasoning. Or faith.

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The projection of nihilism onto the human heart has the same coarsening results as the visual impact of extreme violence. Films are modern myths, stories that teach us about our lives and our universe. When our stories teach that our universe is without design, without purpose, that life itself is a meaningless effort, the lesson harms the audience.

Nehring's God is a governing and guiding force, acting like a moral DMZ lying between damnation and salvation. Believe in God and the dictums of his religion, and you'll be saved; don't believe and you'll accelerate  all of us going to Hell in a handbasket. Therefore nihilism, the Ubermensch's  tough-luck world, doesn't fit into this ideology. To believe in God means all causes and effects happen for a reason, and behaving according to God's will–though that will changes with each religion– is beneficial for everyone. Not believing in God means–to use a horror fan's vernacular–Cthulhu and Yog Sothoth will eat your gonads for breakfast whenever they feel like it (unless it's Derleth's Cthulhu, of course: then it's pancakes and maple syrup for all, instead).

Nehring zeroes in on Japanese horror movies and their nihilistic direness: God does not exist in Juon or Ringu. "In these films there is a complete–and I mean absolute and total lack of moral structure. These stories exhibit a world devoid of God, and that is the reason these films are so effective."

I agree and disagree with his assessment.

These films do not totally lack a moral structure (especially Juon), but they are very effective because God is not the focus: plain old people are the focus and their actions contribute to the "curse [that] supersedes God and, therefore, eliminates all hope." To say there is no moral structure implicit in Juon and Ringu just because it isn't God-driven morality is sophisistic and dead wrong. Contrary to Nehring's summation, good and evil do exist in these films, but I'll admit not in equal measure, and without deity-based good and evil. People in these movies weight the balance either way by their actions or failures to act. To me, that's a clear moral message delivered without needless pontifications. You reap what you sow, right?

To say that horror films must not act by a "different set of rules" because all films are "instruction manuals" is a quaint notion for his argument, but hardly sustainable in practice. These Japanese horror movies do not give bad life-lessons: people in the real world are a whole lot better at doing this than these movies can ever pretend to be.  Horror movies have always reflected the times they appear in. And studios have always taken advantage of those times to push the boundaries of what is shown onscreen. Take a good look at our world, then go watch Hostel. It's depraved and dirty and victimizing. Now am I talking about Hostel or Wall Street or pick a war, any war? Or maybe all of these?

Contrary to Nehring's Christian lens, not all films are modern myths, teachable moments, or self-help manuals, nor do they need to be. Sometimes they transcend our expectations, sometimes not.  Sometimes they horrify us because the Devil is winning, sometimes they terrify us even more because He and God are not even in the game. Take it or leave it, it's just us and what we do, no Heavenly prizes or Hellish punishments to be had. That's what these movies are telling us.

Now that's a really scary moral lesson if ever there was one.