|
Sunday, January 31, 2010
As I write this, James Cameron's Avatar is only a mere $50,000,000 from making two billion dollars at the box office. It's the biggest moneymaker of all time, beating out Cameron's own Titanic for the number one spot.
Is this a good thing?
I think it's a mixed blessing. I like Hollywood. I want to see the studios make money and succeed. However, I haven't always felt this way.
By the time the 90's came along, I was tired of horror, tired of Hollywood movies. I looked toward the underground for my movie fixes. Film Threat and Film Threat Video Guide chronicled the last gasp of cinematic underground. Super 8 film was still in use and maverick backyard (and backstreet) filmmakers were churning out explosive, anarchic movies. I embraced these shoddy little productions and I loathed the mainstream.
I've changed again. I don't watch a lot of independent movies any more. Now the shot-on-digital low budget products look cheap and ugly to me. I like Hollywood movies. But not the flashy, big budget stuff like Avatar and Sherlock Holmes. Though I haven't seen these films, I loathe them. From what I've seen of them from trailers and other clips, they look like computer games. Animation. That's not filmmaking. Not to me.
It's good that the studios are making money. 2009 was a good year, with a lot of successful releases. 2010 looks to be another one. People are uncertain and scared in this foul time. They turn to the movies for comfort and escape. It's always been this way, since the dawn of film production.
The thing that worries me is, will the extraordinary success of Avatar make it more difficult for the modest little productions I love?
Most of the movies I've enjoyed were either box office failures or they barely made their money back. Not all of the time, though.
Up in the Air was a refreshing change of pace and it has done nice business. Not anything near Avatar's bankroll, but it made a tidy profit. Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino was a fantastic film and it did very well. Quentin Tarantino had a fabulous comeback with his best film in ages, Inglourious Basterds. (500) Days of Summer made peanuts in comparison with the latest Twilight movie or Harry Potter film, but it was made on such a modest budget that it was a success.
But what of some of the other little movies that I enjoyed in recent memory?
My favorite of last year was Judd Apatow's underrated, misunderstood masterpiece, Funny People. It almost, but didn't quite, break even. Same with Adventureland. Ditto with another favorite, I Love You, Beth Cooper.
 Bob Goldthwait's scathing World's Greatest Dad didn't even make a quarter of a million dollars at the box office. Werner Herzog's delirious Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans barely made over 4,000,000. Woody Allen's clever and funny Whatever Works performed poorly in America, but did well overseas.
Horror has always been apart from the mainstream. It walks its own path and does better in some years than others. This year wasn't good, but wasn't great either.
Orphan was one of the best. At least I thought so. And so did the public. It brought in a very respectable $75,000,000. Drag Me To Hell was Sam Raimi's comeback to horror and it earned over eighty-five million. A drop in the bucket to his Spider Man franchise, but it doubled its money. Zombieland was surprisingly good and did surprisingly well, topping at almost a hundred mil, quadrupling it's production budget.
The runaway hit was, of course, Paranormal Activity. This ragtag little wonder was made for less than catering costs on major movies. A paltry $15,000 budget brought in over $140,000,000!
It goes to show that there is no predicting the public and what they'll stand in line to see. Still, things like Paranormal Activity are flukes. I can see studios stumbling all over one another to repeat the success of Avatar. We've seen it many times before, haven't we?
I just hope that the studios won't stop funding the little gems out there. Things like Adventureland. Like Youth in Revolt. Like The Lucky Ones. These movies may seem like modest, inexpensive productions, but will the studios wish to continue wasting their time on them? When the big money is in the big, dumb, loud special effects bonanzas?
Like most old fogeys, I miss the old days. Days when effects were done by hand, by artists. And I know...computer programming can be an art, but I miss the hand's on method of special effects. I don't like movies that look like computer games.
There's only one thing we can do. We need to get off of our asses and away from these computers and our home theater systems and go out and support the little movies that need and deserve it. If we sit back and complain and don't go buy tickets, we are as much of the problem as those that will only support the obvious blockbusters out there.
 Go to the movies. It's fun and I don't know if I've just had luck, but audiences have been more polite lately. At least for me. I think it helps that I always see matinees. There are fewer people in the auditoriums and the prices are lower. I think it helps a lot to avoid the ones that will be packed with dumb teens and see worthy films like Brothers, Moon, or Away We Go.
And if you disagree with me, go to the movies anyway. Theaters are places of dreams for us. Houses of magic. See the blockbusters, but try to see some of the other things out there, too. Take you kids, your nieces and nephews, little brothers and sisters. Sure, take them to see Avatar or the latest animated feature they want to see, but don't forget that it's a parent or guardian's job to show them that there are other things out there than the latest blockbuster that all of the other kids are talking about.
One last thing: If there is a drive-in or an independent theater near you and you aren't going on a regular basis, shame on you.
|
|
Sunday, January 03, 2010
I hate to break out that hoary, Dickensian quote about the best and worst of times, but it seems applicable for the year 2009. It was an outstanding year for books and movies. Horror Drive-In flourished and my Cemetery Dance column finally became a reality.
My personal life wasn't so good, though. I tried like hell to save my marriage all through the year, but it came to no avail. Sometimes, no matter how badly you want something and no matter how hard you try, things do not come together.
I had thought that my machinist day job was nearly recession-proof, but things have been looking bad there, too. Hours have been cut and the future is uncertain. I like horror, but this is a little too scary for me.
 Yet I had a better year than some. Death, as always, claimed a lot of people. I think that the older we get, the more we experience death. The loss of loved ones, public figures we looked up to, and our own faltering mortality tell us that Death is never far from our backs.
The biggest one for me came in February. Lux Interior, lead singer for the band, The Cramps, died suddenly. Everyone was shocked and it was a rare heart disorder that took his life. Lux embodied the very spirit of rock and roll. Music, and my life, will never be quite the same without him.
Then there was David Carradine, a hero of mine from Kung Fu and great exploitation films. He died in a particularly undignified way. It was simply tragic.

I met Joe Christ in 1998, but I had been a fan of his movies for a while before that. We became friends and he introduced me to my wife, Tanya, who was appearing in one of his productions. Joe passed away in his sleep. Again, it was sudden and shocking.
Another big blow was filmmaker John Hughes. His movies meant more to me than anyone else's. They may seem quaint to people now, especially younger people, but movies like The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off were vital and they helped many of us make sense of our own messed-up lives.
Paul Naschy was one of my favorite personalities in the world of horror cinema. His exotic movies were always colorful and exciting. Naschy was the only actor in history that played Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy, The Hunchback, Fu Manchu, and a Werewolf. He played the latter character fifteen times! Paul Naschy died of pancreatic cancer, at age 75.
Chas. Balun was the ferociousus bigfoot of horror journalism. In his Deep Red Magazine, Fangoria, Gorezone, and his books, Balun championed bold, relentless, uncompromising horror films and he had little patience for weak, gutless Hollywood studio productions.
The death of Michael Jackson got the most attention in 2009. I'm hardly a fan, but I was surprised at how it affected me. His life, from innocence to corruption, seemed to symbolize the way America has been in decline. As well as my own life.
There are others. Dan O'Bannon. Robert Holdstock. Marilyn Chambers. Don Edmonds. Dick Durock. Robert Quarry. Ron Silver. Henry Gibson. Robert "The Exterminator" Ginty. Soupy Sales. James Whitmore. The genre, no the world, owes all of these people. May they all rest in peace.
Here's one you might not have heard about: Lou Perryman. L.G., from Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. You know, the guy that built that li'l fry house? He was senselessly murdered in his home in Austin in April.
2009 was a good year for genre books. Many of the biggest stars are still putting out some of the best work of their careers. Dan Simmons blew me away with Drood. F. Paul Wilson continued his Adversary cycle with Ground Zero, and he also published his final collection, Aftershock and Other Stories. Joe R. Lansdale brought back his most beloved characters, Hap and Leonard, with Vanilla Ride. Bentley Little wrote the atypical His Father's Son, which I consider to be his finest novel. Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child shocked their fans with Cemetery Dance, the best Pendergast book in years. Bill Pronzini put out another in his spectacular Nameless Detective series, Schemers, which ended with a grim cliffhanger. Ed Gorman put out two of the best books of his career: The Midnight Room and Ticket To Ride.
Many rising stars continued to shine brighter. Brian Keene put out his regular two books from Leisure, and one ranks among my favorites of his books: Urban Gothic. Ronald Damien Malfi scored a coup with his intensely personal Shamrock Alley. Edward Lee's outrageous The Black Train was a scaled-back version of his small press book, Gast, which I haven't read. Still, The Black Train is possibly the most entertaining book I've read by him. Gillian Flynn proved that her stunning debut, Sharp Objects, was no fluke. Her second book, Dark Places, is at least as good as her first. Bryan Smith silenced the naysayers with his no-holds-barred Depraved. And Christopher Conlon wrote Starkweather Dreams, the best poetry book I've read in a decade. Never mind that it was the only poetry book I've read in a decade. That book is amazing.
Outside the genre I read a few things. The big one for me was Last Night in Twisted River, the best book that John Irving has done since A Prayer for Owen Meany.
I reread a lot of books, which is a trend I intend to continue. Straub's Koko was better the second time around and so were Lansdale's Cold in July and The Magic Wagon, King's It, Ellison's Spider Kiss and perhaps most of all, David Lozell Martin's emotionally devastating Crazy Love.
 As for my favorite book of the year, nothing gives me greater joy than to report that Stephen King's Under the Dome comes in at Number One. This book blew me away and I raced through its 1088 pages as if my life depended on it.
I simply must give a special call-out to Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan's The Strain. This frenzied, wild vampire novel is the first in a proposed series, which I think could be the adrenaline shot that the genre needs. I loved it.
As far as I'm concerned, 2009 was an exceptionally good year for movies. I eschewed the high profile, FX heavy features for the most part, but I loved a lot of the littler movies that were released.
When I saw Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino in early January, I said that I would not see a better picture that year. I was wrong. So many great films came out.
Adventureland was a big favorite and it was a bittersweet slice of nostalgia for people of my generation. It was billed as being from the director of Superbad, which hurt its chances. Adventureland isn't an uproarious comedy, but a drama with some funny moments.
Observe and Report was a funny-weird, not funny haha movie. I thought it was edgy and uncomfortably enjoyable.
Moon was that rare thing: An intelligent science fiction movie about ideas.
(500) Days of Summer was the best romcom of the year. Actually, it was just about the only one that didn't make you want to shove an icepick into your brain.
I Love You, Beth Cooper was despised by most, but I thought it was sweet and charming and very funny, with some thoughts in its head. For me it gets better with repeated viewings.
 Woody Allen's Whatever Works is far from his best picture, but it's funny and it makes you feel good. And a lesser film from Woody is leagues above what most others are capable of.
World's Greatest Dad was a savage satire that might be too much for some people. It reaffirmed for me that despite a lot of terrible roles, Robin Williams has a lot of talent.
Brothers was a compelling drama about the effects of war, not only on soldiers, but on the families of those at home. Not exactly the most original subject, but the film was brilliantly acted (mostly by a surprisingly intense Tobey Maguire) and nicely shot.
Tarantino had a comeback of sorts with Inglourious Basterds. It featured some of the best writing and performances of his career. Thankfully it was the success he deserved.
The Hangover was funny. Almost sickeningly so. I almost thought it was too brainlessly vulgar, but it won me over.
Now on to the horror/exploitation movies of 2009.
Drag Me To Hell was sam Raimi's high profile return to his roots. I thought it was outstanding. Others felt that it fell short of the mark.
Last House on the Left was one of the strongest of the modern remakes. In fact I thought it was better than Craven's original, which I always felt was uneven and overrated.
Orphan was a strong horror film, with superior performances and some genuine shocks. Easily the best Dark Castle production to date.
Jennifer's Body wasn't as strong as Juno, but Diablo Cody's screenplay was an all-stops-out blast. I had a ball with it.
Trick 'r' Treat was a fun movie that made me feel like I was back in the 80's again.
I was all ready to hate Zombieland. In fact I had no intention of seeing it. But I went anyway and the movie won me over. Big time. The characters had chemistry with each other and the laughs were genuine.
Paranormal Activity was the big surprise. Like The Blair Witch Project, it was a runaway success. And like The Blair With Project, Paranormal Activity has its admirers and detractors. I thought it was fantastic.
Now for some of the bad news.
Halloween 2 was even worse than Rob Zombie's first Halloween. Give ME some of the drugs he was using when he made it.
The Final Destination wasn't as bad as some claim, but without the stunning 3D effects, there's not much there to recommend.
As an adaptation of a Richard Matheson story, and as a followup to Donnie Darko, Richard Kelly's The Box was a disappointment. I didn't thoroughly hate it, but it seemed too wildly over-the-top and unfocused.
And as for the worst horror film of 2009, I have to go with a tie. I sincerely hope that The Collector is the final nail on the coffin of the so-called Torture Porn subgenre. Yes, it was a lot like an old drive-in movie of the 70's. Too bad the 70's are over. This one just came off as ugly and unpleasant. Of course, that was the intention of the filmmakers. It just didn't work for me.
The other rock bottom horror film of 2009 was the long-awaited The Hills Run Red. Despite a screenpla y written in part by David J. Schow, I found this one to be virtually unwatchable. Maybe there was a good movie buried in there, but the repugnant use of flash-cut editing destroyed it.
But the big one for me was another one that most people didn't get. Or at least they didn't like it. For me, Judd Apatow's Funny People was easily the best of 2009. I thought it was so rich and filled with subtext. It even made me stop hating Adam Sandler. I've seen Funny People several times now, and I always get new things in it to marvel at with each viewing.
Well, there you have it. 2009 in a nutshell. Obviously, I didn't read or see everything, but I do keep my eyes on the movies screens and the book pages.
Let's hope that 2010 will be a better one. The world seems to be in insurmountable trouble and families are in dire circumstances. I have hopes for a happier tomorrow in my own personal life, but I honestly can't hope for a better year for books and movies than 2009.
|
|
Sunday, December 27, 2009
When I read Paul Theroux's Saint Jack in 1987, I had no idea that there was a film adapted from it. I don't think very many others did either. Saint Jack is one of those lost classics that you sometimes hear about. I did see Saint Jack not too long after reading the book. It was aired on The Lifetime Channel, of all places. Of course it was heavily cut. I eventually obtained a videotape of it. For those that know nothing about it, Saint Jack is the story of Jack Flowers, an American expatriate living in Vietnam War era Singapore. Jack is a pimp that provides a service to soldiers and drunken Brits, and he treats his ladies well. They need the work and they need someone savvy to facilitate their business. The irony of the story is that Jack, a pimp, is the most moral person the reader meets in the city. Even though the film of Saint Jack was directed by famed auteur Peter Bogdanovich, it remained difficult to see. This is despite glowing reviews by most major critics, and a small but enthusiastic fanbase.  I was recently astonished to learn that a book was published on the making of Saint Jack. I knew immediately that this was something that I simply had to own. I count myself as one of the biggest fans of the film. I had never heard of the publisher of Kinda Hot, but I was a bit suspicious. Marshall Cavendish Editions sounded to me like one of those glorified vanity presses, but a quick internet search proved that it was a genuine outfit that mostly did books for children. An odd home for a book about a pimp, but then everything is odd when it comes to Saint Jack. My suspicions were put to rest on the first page of Kinda Hot. It was immediately clear that Ben Slater was a good writer. Mad as a fruitbat, obviously. Who in their right mind would write a book about a film that so few have seen? Well, I'm damned glad that he did. Kinda Hot is fascinating from start to finish. From inception to preproduction and all the way through to the accounts of editing and the film's release, this is a wild account of a truly outlaw, guerrilla movie. Saint Jack began as a proposed project for Orson Welles, who was friends with Bogdanovich. Welles envisioned Jack Nicholson in the lead. Well, why not? Jack was the king of the new Hollywood at the time. Welles never got the project past the talking stage, so Bogdanovich took over himself, with Dean Martin as a possible choice as Jack. Either Nicholson or Martin would be interesting as Jack Flowers, and perhaps having one of these big names in the cast would have made Saint Jack a more successful movie. But I can't imagine anyone bringing the character to life as well as Ben Gazzara did. It's one of the finest performances of all time, in my opinion. Peter Bogdanovich hit Hollywood like a hurricane with The Last Picture Show. It wasn't his first movie, but it was his first for a major studio. The film is considered to be one of the milestones of movie history and was one of the most important films in what became known as The New Hollywood. In the late 60's, the studios were having financial woes and young, passionate filmmakers were proving that artistic, moneymaking productions could be made for relatively little money. Along with Bogdanovich, directors like Martin Scorsese, Monte Hellman, Robert Altman, Woody Allen, Francis Ford Coppola, Dennis Hopper, Michael Cimino, William Friedkin, Arthur Penn and others were making smart, personal films that dealt in the reality of people's lives. The Last Picture Show instantly made Bogdanovich a superstar. The film was compared to Citizen Kane, which of course was made by his idol, Orson Welles. Bogdanovich followed that triumph with two more successes: The wacky What's Up, Doc?, a modern screwball comedy that was inspired by the films of Howard Hawk and Preston Sturges; and Paper Moon, a depression-era comedy drama. Though part of the radical New Hollywood, Peter Bogdanovich seemed like a director from an earlier era. He wanted to make films like his heroes from old Hollywood. At first he was succeeding. Things couldn't have been better for him. But his days on top were numbered. Everyone knows that the despicable gossip monger parasites love nothing better than to tear down the subjects that had at first revered. Bogdanovich's high profile relationship with his Last Picture Show ingenue Cybill Shepherd became a farce in the eyes of much of the public. He was rapidly gaining a reputation as a tyrant with a monstrous ego on his sets. And worst of all, his films were becoming costly flops. So Peter Bogdanovich had reached a point where it was becoming difficult to obtain the green light for proposed projects. Saint Jack didn't appear to have a lot of commercial potential. He wished to have complete creative control over this movie, which he hoped would be his comeback. With nowhere else to turn, Bogdanovich went to his old boss, Roger Corman, to seek funding for Saint Jack. Like so many others (and many of the hot new directors in Hollywood), Peter Bogdanovich cut his teeth working for the King of Exploitation, Roger Corman. He was Assistant Director on The Wild Angels and did uncredited reshoots of a Russian science fiction movie called Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women for Corman. And Roger Corman produced the first movie Peter Bogdanovich directed, the brilliant Targets. Targets is an amazing film. It and Saint Jack are my favorites by Bogdanovich, even though others are more celebrated. It deals with two simultaneous plots. One in which aging horror star Boris Karloff wishes to retire from acting. Another deals with a normal young man that takes a rifle with a scope and shoots people on a freeway. Peter Bogdanovich plays a young director on the rise in it, which appears to be at least semi-autobiographical. All of this has gotten away from Saint Jack, but it's crucial to understand where Peter Bogdanovich was when he made it. Still talented, still driven to perfection, but out of favor. Roger Corman, ever with any eye on profit and what his audiences craved, like the idea of a movie about a pimp. He envisioned copious nudity in Saint Jack, and he agreed to fund as well as produce the film. Saint Jack was a go. With little money but lots of determination, Peter Bogdanovich began to assemble the most talented individuals he could get on his budget. Gazzara came onboard and distinguished British actor Denholm Elliott joined the cast as the pivotal character William Leigh, an auditor that makes annual visits to one of Jack's employers. The third important character in Saint Jack, the enigmatic Eddie Schuman, was played by Bogdanovich himself. He did the role with just the right amount of swagger. His acting brought a lot to the film, just as it did in Targets. For authenticity's sake, the majority of the rest of the cast was made up of nonprofessional citizens of Singapore. This also augmented the tight budget that Corman provided. For behind the camera talent, Robby Müller, hot off of his visually triumphant work on Wim Wenders' The American Friend, was hired as cinematographer. A ragtag team was assembled, but Saint Jack was to be a difficult shoot. For one, Paul Theroux's novel was notorious in Singapore. The government was not happy about the way the book depicted their city, with its endless scenes of pimps, prostitutes, and gangsters. Knowing that a permit would never be allowed for an adaptation of the hated novel, Peter Bogdanovich penned a treatment for a fictitious movie called Jack of Hearts, which kept many of the same details of Saint Jack, but omitting most of the seedier elements. The majority of the shoot was done on the sly, without permission. Still, some critical scenes required that they be shot in public areas. The production crew actually got members of the government's private security team to assist them at these times. Financing can make or break a feature film and many I can think of suffered from the lack of a sufficient budget. In this case, the low budget, the frenzied pace, the small crew and the extensive use of local extras benefited Saint Jack. I can't imagine a better adaptation of it, regardless of who performed in it or directed it. Yes, the film makes changes to the book, sometimes in significant ways, but that's almost unavoidable. Especially in such an introspective novel in which much of the story takes place in the lead character's mind. Saint Jack was released, mostly to good reviews. Roger Ebert declared it to be a revelation. But some reviewers seemed to be reviewing the man behind the film, Peter Bogdanovich, rather than the film itself. Vincent Canby panned it, as did some others. I can only say that they missed the subtle, yet profound, emotional depth of Saint Jack. Saint Jack performed well in Europe and it played in some of the bigger cities in America. Roger Corman got a return on his investment. Of course. He was always shrewd in his deals. Yet I don't think he was the right distributor for Saint Jack. He was more used to drive-in and grindhouse distribution. Corman did successfully distribute some films from major foreign directors like Bergman and Fellini, but Saint Jack was an uneasy mix between an art and an exploitation film. And, to no one's surprise, Saint Jack was banned in Singapore. Tragically, Saint Jack became another failure for Peter Bogdanovich, even though he says that he is completely happy with the way the movie turned out. It simply never found the audience it deserved. I don't know if anyone has read this far, but I hope that I've whetted a few appetites for Saint Jack. I've revealed few of the movies details and I've only hinted at the charm in it. The charisma of Ben Gazzara as Jack. The wonderfully tacky depiction of a Singapore that was to change very quickly after Saint Jack was completed. The stunning photography by Robby Müller. The great soundtrack with songs by Satchmo, Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash. The study of one man's struggle to maintain dignity in a city of greed and corruption. Saint Jack was released on DVD by New Concorde in 2001. It's long out of print, but copies are still around for fairly reasonable prices. I urge all lovers of great cinema to find one. Sadly, the print is a little scratchy. God, I wish Criterion would acquire it and present a cleaned-up edition of it. It's at least as good as many of their releases and as far as I'm concerned, it's superior to a lot of them. And after you've seen Saint Jack, perhaps you'll want to find a copy of Kinda Hot: The Making of Saint Jack in Singapore. It may prove to be harder to locate a copy of it for a good price, but if you love the film, I guarantee you'll love the book.  | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Reading has always been important to me. Even before I knew how to read. My older brothers were readers and some of my earliest memories are of wistfully gazing at covers of old science fiction books and wishing that I could read them. I was a quick learner and I was reading well before my general age group.
Like most, I started out with childrens picture books. Dr. Seuss, Golden Books, various things from the elementary school library, Walt Disney comics, etc. I could start with those, but I'll begin with what my kids used to call chapter books.
The first real writer I recognized as a favorite was Robert A. Heinlein. His books were real eye-openers for me and they remain among the most wonderful reading experiences of my life. My favorites were the ones written with teenage boys in mind for the audience. In fact I consider Have Space Suit, Will Travel to be the first real book I read. I treasure it to this day. I also adored Farmer in the Sky, Starman Jones, and Space Cadet, though I don't recommend carrying books with these titles in school. Not if you want any kind of social life outside of being considered the Class Geek.
Other Heinlein books I cherished are The Puppet Masters and The Door Into Summer. His short stories are generally pretty awesome too.
I loved Heinlein's later work when I was a kid: Stranger in a Strange Land, I Will Fear No Evil and Time Enough For Love. They were impressionable mainly because there was a lot of sex in them, but they had some pretty heady ideas in their pages too. As an adult I find these books to be a little too catty.
I'll never forget my father chastising me for reading Robert A. Heinlein. With all the strength of ignorance on his side, he assured me that I was reading trash. I guess I turned out to be right, huh?
I read Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five while I was in middle school. Again, it made an enormous impression upon me. I quickly read all of his books, including Breakfast of Champions. I'm not even sure I quite understood everything Vonnegut was trying to say in these books, but I knew that they were very funny, very entertaining, and that there were important ideas in them.
I can't say that I disliked anything that came before and up to Breakfast of Champions, but of course I had my favorites. I was a science fiction fan and the ones I loved the most were The Sirens of Titan and Cat's Cradle. I still think the latter would make an excellent movie in the proper cinematic hands.
I liked the first couple of post-Breakfast of Champions books, even while I felt that they weren't as vital as the earlier ones. Slapstick was all right and Jailbird wasn't a bad books. Something seemed to be missing though. Not one to give up hope, I made a rare hardcover purchase when Palm Sunday came out. I was burned. Even at the tender of twenty I thought Palm Sunday was unashamedly self-indulgent. I hated it and I never felt the same way about old Kurt again.
I had read Harlan Ellison years before I called him my favorite writer. I first encountered his work in a school anthology. The title of it now escapes me, but I never forgot the name Harlan Ellison. The story in question was called Silent in Gehenna. It was the best story in that anthology and one of the best short stories I had ever read. So when Pyramid Books began publishing its line of Harlan Ellison books in the 70's, I bought every one I could. And I was never, ever disappointed.
Ellison reminded me a bit of my previous favorite, Kurt Vonnegut, but Kurt started to seem like a cynical old fart and I found Ellison to be a more impassioned writer. Ellison gave a fuck and it showed in everything he did, from his fiction to his essays to his personal life.
I liked it all, but I was and probably still am partial to his nonfiction. I thought The Glass Teat was fantastic when I was in the tenth grade. I did a report on it that a teacher of mine didn't particularly care for.
But God, the stories. So many classics: Shattered Like a Glass Goblin, Repent, Harlequin, Said the Ticktock Man, Pretty Maggie Moneyeyes, Jefty is Five, Daniel White for the Greater Good, A Boy and His Dog. The list is long and I could go on and on. But it was when I received the November, 1980 issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction that I discovered my very favorite work by Harlan Ellison. It is called All the Lies That Are My Life and it blew me away.
I continued to read Ellison and I've liked most of what I read. Now it has become impossible to separate the man from the work and sadly Ellison's explosive personality has alienated him from the readers and the career that he should have had. I still love the guy and I check out what he has to say every chance I get.
I never tired of Harlan Ellison, but I began to crave something different. Still a dyed-in-the-wool science fiction fan, I read as much of the field I could. Frederik Pohl was a prominent name in the genre. As the publicists love to say, Pohl has been everything in the science fiction world: Fan, writer, agent, editor.
Frederik Pohl is widely known for his acidly satirical science fiction. He seemed to be as cynical as Vonnegut, but Pohl also loved space, while Vonnegut thought the whole space program was a colossal waste.
Pohl published dozens of stories and novels, often in collaboration with other science fiction writers. His most noted collaborations were with C. M. Kornbluth, who undoubtedly would have been one of the all-time greatest writers in the field if it hadn't been for his untimely death in 1958.
Frederik Pohl always delivered smart, wickedly entertaining fiction, but it was with 1976's Man Plus that he really came into his own. This Nebula-winning novel was far and away superior to anything he had written before. Yet his following novel that brought him his biggest praise. Gateway is probably my favorite science fiction novel. The only real rival it has with me is Bester's The Stars My Destination. Gateway not only won The Nebula Award, it won the Hugo Award, the Locus Award, and the John W. Campbell Award. All for best novel of the year. Gateway is the first in what became known as The Heechee Saga, which saw numerous sequels and a video game.
I read Pohl with wonder and awe, hunting down his old work and delighting in his new publications. After Gateway my favorites include The Cool War, The Space Merchants (with C.M. Kornbluth), JEM, and Starburst.
Pohl's body is aged, but his mind is as sharp as ever, as you can see in his blog. At age 90, Frederik Pohl is almost certainly the Dean of Living Science Fiction Writers and he is one of the few surviving members of SF's First Fandom.
Philip José Farmer is known for bringing sex into the previously chaste world of science fiction publishing. His 1952 novella, The Lovers, dealt with a human that has a sexual relationship with an extraterrestrial. It was later expanded into a full-length novel.
But Farmer wrote more than sex-based science fiction. He was kind of the mad literary prankster of the genre. He was doing what are now trendily called mash-ups long before most current practitioners were born. And unlike most, he had the literary props to pull it off.
Farmer loved to mix up his literary obsessions, and he always had explosive results. Like Doc Savage and Tarzan meeting in a wildly explicit novel. Or Tarzan of the Apes written by William Burroughs instead of Edgar Rice Burroughs. He wrote a book under the pseudonym of a Kurt Vonnegut character, which was the first one of his that really won my heart and made me a fan.
Philip José Farmer wrote experimental fiction, notably with Riders of the Purple Wage, which appeared in Harlan Ellison's groundbreaking Dangerous Visions anthology. He wrote an Oz book. Farmer wrote a book that chronicled Doc Savage meeting his five aides with Escape From Loki. He did a science fictional sequel to Moby Dick called The Wind Whales of Ishmael.
But mostly Philip José Farmer wrote knockout books that alternately embraced and defied genre. Adventure, science fiction, hardboiled mystery, fantasy, erotica. It was and is impossible to pigeonhole Farmer. My own favorite of his works is called The Image of the Beast, which predated over-the-top, sexually explicit, hyperviolent horror stories by decades.
Still, I was looking for something else...
It is uncool and unfair to list two trailblazing talents like Richard Matheson and Robert Bloch together, but that's really the way it was. I was a science fiction reader, remember? And the works by these two writers were most often found in the SF sections of bookstores.
I was obviously looking for something darker in my reading. Most science fiction writers dabbled in the dark stuff in their careers, but these guys specialized in it. And they both worked extensively in the movies, which I thought was très cool.
I searched high and low for titles by these guys and it seemed that the used bookstores had scant copies of their books. I eventually found all or at least most of them and I had a blast with them all.
Matheson and Bloch had highly different styles. Bloch's was more down-to-earth and Matheson's was more literary. And to be honest, it was Richard Matheson that I loved more. Both were amazingly talented and I cherish the works of them both to this day.
I think I prefer Bloch's short stories over his novels. Especially in the later periods of his life. Of course Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper is a certified classic, but I loved so many of them. Among my favorites are Beetles, The Movie People, I Do Not Love Thee, Dr. Fell, That Hellbound Train, Enoch, A Toy For Juliette, and The Man Who Collected Poe. Really, all of them are marvelous, even if some of Bloch's humorous stories seem wildly dated today.
As for his novels, for me Bloch was more successful with straight suspense rather than supernatural horror. My favorite is easily The Scarf and I can't imagine why some smart small press doesn't do a nice edition of this one. I also loved Night-World, American Gothic, and of course, Psycho.
Robert Bloch's work is typified by a delightfully ghoulish sense of humor. You'll be hard pressed to find a more entertaining author anywhere.
Richard Matheson, on the other hand, dealt in weightier issues. His fiction delves into the very fabric of reality. His themes have included primal consciousness, our souls, the afterlife, and spiritualism.
Though he is primarily known for his fantasy, horror, and science fiction, Richard Matheson has also written comedy, westerns and a war novel.
Today, Matheson is probably best known as the author of I Am Legend, which was adapted into at least three films, none of which are truly worthy of his talent. His time-travel romance, Somewhere in Time, has earned him a considerable fanbase. Other films based on his work include The Legend of Hell House, What Dreams May Come, A Stir of Echoes, and most recently, The Box.
However, Richard Matheson is revered by horror fans for his adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe stories for producer/director Roger Corman, his work on episodes of The Twilight Zone, The Night Stalker and The Night Strangler, and that horrifying Zuni Fetish Warrior Doll that terrorized Karen Black in Trilogy of Terror.
Richard Matheson is certainly one of the most remarkable writers of the last one hundred years and I expect readers and scholars to be discussing his work for decades to come.
Yet still I searched for more, even while the answer was right before my eyes.
I knew about Stephen King in the early 80's. Who didn't? He was everywhere. A publishing phenomenon. Movies were constantly coming out based on his work and everybody was reading him. Everybody but me, that is. I assumed that he was a trashy bestseller and I thought myself too enlightened to read him. Boy, was I an idiot.
I took the plunge while visiting some friends. I was spending the night and it was late, but I wasn't tired. A copy of The Shining was laying around and I picked it up. Instantly I was changed. From the first paragraph I read I considered myself a Stephen King fan. The style of The Shining was both literary and easily accessible. It almost seemed to me to be a radically new approach to writing.
From there I went on to read everything that King has published. This was at the time that Pet Semetery had just been published. I was blown away by them all. Of course I had my favorites; The Stand, Christine, Different Seasons, The Shining. And others that I felt were not his best, like Firestarter. But it's safe to say that I enjoyed every word I read by him. I particularly liked the comfortable way in which he wrote essays, introductions, and other pieces of nonfiction. King made his readers feel like close friends.
My love affair with King's writing culminated with It, a mammoth work that seemed to say everything he felt about childhood and fear. I flew through it at a frantic pace when it came out, but I reread it more carefully just this year and I still believe it to be among his finest novels.
Sadly, many of the post-It books were disappointments to me. I get no joy from saying that. Some, like The Tommyknockers, The Dark Half, and Needful Things were enjoyable enough, even if I felt that they were not up to the (high) standards of the earlier stuff. Others I didn't like at all and we'll leave it at that.
Oddly, the King books of the last twenty years that I loved the most seem to be the ones that most fans dislike: Gerald's Game, Dolores Claybourne, From a Buick 8, and The Colorado Kid.
I'm happy to report that I recently finished King's gargantuan Under the Dome, and I consider it to be one of his very best books ever.
Through my love of Stephen King, I of course read Peter Straub and again, I was blown away. The quality of the writing was something I'd never quite experienced before.
I started with Ghost Story and I immediately considered it to be the best horror novel I had ever read. The literary references made it fun, but it was also scary as hell.
After Ghost Story I read Shadowland and Floating Dragon, loving each one more than the one before. I've heard a lot of people complain about Floating Dragon, but at the time it was my favorite book. I loved the way Straub took a no-holds-barred approach to it.
I went back and read If You Could See Me Now. I don't consider it to be his best novel, but something about it really appealed to me. I've read that one three times. I still say it would make a fantastic movie.
I read them all. Julia, which was his first horror novel, and I also read Marriages and Under Venus. Those last two were straight literary works and while they're good, I think Peter Straub found his proper literary path in horror and suspense.
There was a five-year wait between Floating Dragon and Straub's next novel, Koko. I bought Koko in hardcover and I read it, but I was slightly disappointed. I missed the fantastic elements of the previous books. Koko deals with the darkness inside men and it is one of the best serial killer novels ever written. I reread it this year and I appreciated it far more this time around.
Straub followed Koko with a series of novels and stories that dealt around a character named Tim Underhill, most notably in The Throat. After that he penned various novels and stories, some with supernatural elements, others without them. I liked them all, but...
I had found another writer that took the top place on my list. His name is Joe R. Lansdale and before I had even read him, I had been hearing unanimous praise for his writing. I remember a three-book review in an old issue of Fangoria that was done by Stanley Wiater. I chalked Lansdale up as a writer that I needed to read. Then I saw an ad in The Twilight Zone Magazine for a book called The Drive-In. Obviously, this was a book I was born to read. I bought it that very week and I had a new favorite writer.
I've followed Joe's career with enthusiasm ever since The Drive-In and I've rarely been disappointed. He wrote in nearly every conceivable genre, but I felt and still feel that Lansdale is strongest when he does straight suspense. Cold In July, The Bottoms, A Fine Dark Line, Waltz of Shadows, Leather Maiden, The Big Blow, and Sunset and Sawdust are all amazing pieces of literature. And of course his Hap and Leonard books rank among the most entertaining novels I've ever read.
Lansdale writes like an early 20th Century rural storyteller spinning yarns from the back porch. His stories are uproarious and filled with all manner of sex and violence, but there is a righteous moral center to them.
Then there are his short stories. Lansdale's most famous, or perhaps most notorious is a better way to put it, is undoubtedly Night They Missed the Horror Show. I have yet to see a reader come away from that one unaffected. Other outrageous short stories by Joe are Steppin' Out Summer '68, By Bizarre Hands, Drive-In Date, and The Job.
Lansdale's fiction has perhaps grown a tad more subtle as the years have gone by. He no longer seems to feel the need to slam the reader in the temple with a sledgehammer. This is not to say that Joe has grown soft or mellow. He still has the power to shock and unsettle his readers, but I think he uses more atmosphere and depth of character these days.
Yet, and again, this pains me to say, sometimes Joe goes so far out that I have a difficult time following. I'm talking about things like Zeppelins West and its sequel, Flaming London. The Drive-In sequels. Some of the short stories don't do it for me either, like Bob the Dinosaur Goes To Disneyland and On the Far Side of the Cadillac Desert with Dead Folks. This sadly keeps Joe from the number one spot on my favorites list. Dubious honor that it may be.
I look back and I'm a little bit astonished that some writers whose work I love never made the list. I never called writers like Isaac Asimov, Clifford D. Simak, Arthur C. Clarke, Theodore Sturgeon, Philip Wylie, Fredric Brown, Robert McCammon, F. Paul Wilson, Thomas F. Monteleone, John Skipp/Craig Spector, Nancy A. Collins, Chet Williamson, Brian Keene, or even Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child my favorite writers. No matter how much I love these and dozens of other writers and their works.
Looking back at it all, there is one writer who has been the most consistent, who has constantly touched my heart and my mind. Book after book after book.
I lucked into reading Bill Pronzini early on. I saw a thriller that was written by Bill, in collaboration with a science fiction writer who wrote some books I liked: Barry Malzberg. The book was called The Running of Beasts and I consider it to have been far ahead of its time. The Running of Beasts (as well as another Pronzini/Malzberg book, Night Screams) is a serial killer story written long before the whole glut of them that came out in the wake of Thomas Harris' success.
I read those and then I saw a solo book by Bill Pronzini. Lo and behold, it happened to be the first book in what would become the longest-running detective series in mystery fiction. I had no idea at the time how important that book, The Snatch, and the author, Bill Pronzini, would be to me. The Snatch is good, yes, but it was the seed that grew into the most satisfying series of books I would ever read in my life: The Nameless Detective books by Bill Pronzini.
The hook that Pronzini used was to never name the lead character of The Snatch. I don't believe that he had any inkling how long this character would stay alive. To date there have been over thirty-five novels and a couple of collections of short stories that feature the character.
The ironic thing about The Nameless Detective is, readers have come to know so much about him. And eventually we got to know his first name, which bears a striking similarity to the author of the stories. We learned of Nameless' loves, his fear. What makes him happy and causes him sorrow. Somehow Bill Pronzini has managed to keep this series, which has almost lasted four decades (!), fresh and credible. It seems impossible, but the last Nameless book, Schemers, is one of the most gripping of them all.
Pronzini has alternated the Nameless books with stand-alone novels, and though he is widely known as a mystery writer, Bill has written horror and western fiction too. As with the Nameless series, the other books continue to grow and his skills have grown as the decades have passed. I cannot say the same about a lot of other writers.
My favorite of all Bill Pronzini's books is probably The Crimes of Jordan Wise, which in many ways is atypical of his work. It isn't as hardboiled as the majority of his books, but it has a wonderful setting and some of Bill's best characters.
What makes the fiction of Bill Pronzini so special to me is the sheer humanity in it. The themes in his stories are universal ones. Ones that pertain to not only my life, but everyone's. There is joy and hope, fear and courage, strength and weakness, humor and horror.
Will another writer ever take the place of Bill Pronzini as my favorite? Anything's possible, but it seems highly improbable. It's not likely that any writer can top the joy that Pronzini has given me for the past few decades. Still, we never know what the future will bring. That's the beauty of it.
|
|
Thursday, November 05, 2009
There's a small town in mid-Northern North Carolina called Henderson. It may not seem like much. Just a fly-speck of a town you wouldn't think twice about passing by on the interstate. There's a million more like it out there in Sticksville, USA. Nothing special, right?
Wrong. I had the privilege of meeting some of the townspeople of Henderson on Halloween Night, 2009. But it wasn't just any meeting place. It was at one of the sadly few drive-in theaters in operation today.
Hold it. Allow me to go back in time about eight years. I had heard that there was a drive-in in Henderson called The Raleigh Road Outdoor Theater and one morning I was passing through and I decided to get off of Interstate 1 and see if I could find it. I got lucky. The theater was only abut a mile off the highway and I happened to go the right way. The Raleigh Road Outdoor Theater was standing and in operation, but it looked to be in pretty sore condition. The screen and the fence surrounding it looked to be in disrepair and it looked like the kind of place you wouldn't want to test the food at. Or use the restrooms. I'm sure the people that ran it meant well and did their best, but things looked grim.
Drive-in enthusiast Jim Kopp purchased the theater sometime after that and he and his crew have made enormous restorations. The place is clean and it gives off a welcoming aura. There's a wholesome, nostalgic appearance to the theater. Like something out of our nation's past.
 I had been intending to make a trip to the Raleigh Road Outdoor Theater for some time. I was regularly checking the website and reading about the movies and events that the drive-in had to offer. Not content to simply run movies, The Raleigh Road constantly has fun, family-friendly activities and promotions to keep the excitement at a high level. I read that there was going to be a Halloween Costume Contest and a triple feature at the Raleigh Road and I decided it would be the perfect time to take my family. An excellent opportunity to combine my love of both the drive-in and the holiday that celebrates my favorite genre, horror.
 We arrived early, but were not the first in line. Enthusiastic families were already ahead of us, with children in costume anxious to enter the theater.
We drove in as the theater opened and after I met the very friendly owner, Jim Kopp. He promised to spend some time with me after the initial chaos died down.
We parked and got a good spot and opened our trunk, for in addition to the costume contest, the theater was having Trunk or Treat before the film. Kids would go from car-to-car and collect treats from the attendees. It was a lot of fun and we saw some cool costumes.
Our own kids, Europa and India dressed up and enjoyed Trunk or Treating, even though both are too really old to indulge in such activities. The drive-in tends to bring out the kid in all of us.
Of course we were all anxious for a deliciously non-nutritious meal, which has always been one of the major draws of the drive-in theater. Our appetites had already been whetted by the smell of the large grill that was cooking burgers and hot dogs outside the concessions stand. And get this: We wisely took advantage of the Family of Four Deal. You get admission for four for three movies, four meals with drinks, and a large tub of popcorn! Now you tell me where you are going to find a deal like that? Only at the drive-in.
The costume contest was fun and our India was a winner with her inspired Evil Circus Ringleader getup. She won a book about the making of Twilight: New Moon. She worked hard on it and we were all proud. 
Oh yeah, the movies. You know, although the movies are the principle reason for the existence of the drive-in theater and all drive-in enthusiasts are movie fans, sometimes it seems as if they are secondary to the experience.
People go to drive-ins for various reasons. In my youth we went to party or to get it on with our dates. Now the scene is different. Some don't like the way most drive-ins now play mainstream, family productions, but they might not be aware that drive-in theaters started out as family entertainment. They were an inexpensive way for families to get away and have some fun. There were almost always playgrounds for the kids and The Raleigh Road Outdoor Theater is no exception.
The main reason people come to drive-ins, I think, is to be a par t of the community. The good people of the area come out and be together. They socialize, laugh, and have a good time. And many of the people of Henderson are fighting to maintain the close-knit community they share. They fight for it by helping out at the drive-in theater.
Anyway, the movies were Astro Boy, The Addams Family and Couples Retreat. None are exactly my favorite type of fare, with the possible exception of The Addams Family. But I always preferred the actual comics that Chas. Addams had in The New Yorker and other publications.
But the movies aren't the important thing. I can sit through anything at a drive-in. More than sit through it. I'll enjoy just about anything while I'm out there under the stars. And what a perfect night it was on October 31st, 2009. It was neither cold nor warm, but a lovely combination of the two. Being the hot-natured person that I am, I never even put on a longsleeve shirt. And the moon was nearly full. 
I liked Astro Boy for what it was. Animation isn't my thing, but I found it to be engaging enough. The kids wanted to see The Addams Family and probably the third feature too, but my wife Tanya was coughing a lot and though she agreed to stay, I felt that it was best to get her home to bed. Truth be told, I wasn't exactly looking forward to the forty-five minute drive back home. My night vision isn't what is used to be.
I never did get to talk much to the owner, Jim Kopp, but I enjoyed our brief time together. Just as I enjoyed talking to the rest of the people that took the time to chat with a stranger. It's the truth, you'll find the best members of the community at the drive-in theater. As far as I'm concerned, the cream of the crop was there. I was disappointed though. While the theater was about a third full, it should have had a full house. I literally think that a lot of locals do not know what they are missing as they sit in their hermetically sealed, self-imposed isolation. I don't care how big their plasma screens are, or how clear their Blu-Ray Player picture is. There is no substitute to watching a movie on that ginormous screen, under the stars, in the company of their neighbors. It was particularly good to see the young people out there enjoying themselves.
So we left after the first feature. Our maiden trip to The Raleigh Road Outdoor Theater was a wonderful Halloween and we know that it won't be our last time there.

All photographs taken at The Raleigh Road Outdoor Theater by India Collier.
|
|
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The success of Zombieland makes me wonder if the horror/comedy hybrid is on the way back. And I think it might not be such a bad idea.
Horror Comedies were the rage of the 80's and I saw a lot of backlash against it in the horror magazines. "I like my horror straight up" seemed to be a common statement. And I do see their point. At least to some degree. Too much of any one thing leads to tedium.
Yet horror and comedy go together so well. James Whale arguably invented it with both The Bride of Frankenstein and The Old Dark House. Later, comedians Abbott and Costello made a successful run of movies that lampooned the Universal classic monsters. Roger Corman made two delightful horror comedies, The Little Shop of Ho rrors and A Bucket of Blood.
I've heard people say that the audience laughed during horror movies, but often the laughter is like a pressure relief valve, rather than that of a derisive crowd. People get a vicarious taste of death in a theme park ride and are often terrified. Most will get off the ride laughing their heads off. Fear and laughter aren't as far apart as some might think they are.
Horror and comedy went hand in hand over the years, sometimes unintentionally. Many cheap quickies took on a new life and appeal to audiences that appreciated their camp value. Others played the gallows humor to the hilt.
But it was in the 1980's that horror comedies became the norm. As I said before, many complained, but the best of them, like Night of the Creeps and Evil Dead 2, were almost universally adored.
Of course there were the downside of the trend. Transylvania 6-5000 and Haunted Honeymoon represent the worst of the supposedly funny horror movies.
Even the franchises turned to farce when the filmmakers had nowhere else to turn to keep the ideas fresh. The Nightmare on Elm Street sequels were virtual comedies and Tobe Hooper's Texas Chainsaw Massacre was as well.
There were dozens of humorous horror films in the 80's. Some more successful than others, but most are looked upon with affection today. House, An American Werewolf in London, Motel Hell, Ghostbusters, Creepshow (and its sequel), Gremlins, Fright Night, Vamp, The Lost Boys, Beetlejuice, The 'burbs, Night of the Demons, Bad Taste, Terrorvision and Return of the Living Dead are among my favorites. Heck, I even like those old Troma movies, The Toxic Avenger and Class of Nuke 'em High.
Maybe it is time for a return to funny horror pictures. The torture trend has gotten tedious. Why continue to take that as far as they can? I think the antidote just could be wit.
I fear what may come of it though. While I loved Zombieland, movies like Stan Helsing and Transylmania look absolutely terrible. It didn't work for everyone, but I thought that Jennifer's Body was a perfectly enjoyable horror comedy.
If humor and fear go together so closely, then isn't our love of horror our way of laughing in the face of death? All of us rehearse death and tragedy constantly in what we watch and what we read. Death will surely get the last laugh, but our only hope is to stave it off the best we can. In the only way we can. That's by laughing and trying not to think ahead to the inevitable.
|
|
Monday, October 05, 2009
Nothing great, or even mediocre, is ever done by one's self. I've had a lot of assistance here at Horror Drive-In. A lot of great friends and a lot of talented individuals have been good enough to spend their precious time here. At the board mostly, but I get comments from those that read the reviews and front pages too. I can't even begin to list the names of people that have helped make this site the success it is. Traffic is way up and Horror Drive-In is becoming more influential all the time.
But there are a couple of people that deserve public thanks. If you like this site, they get a ton of credit. If you don't like it, the blame falls on my own shoulders.
The first is Deena Warner. She is incredibly talented and she designed Horror Drive-In. I had the dream, but she made it a reality. She also has put up with my stupidity when it comes to this sort of thing. I'm lost at anything technical that concerns the Internet.
Deena has also been a great friend. I've known her since the old days of Gorezone. Deena participated in the old Dr. Casey's Book Forum, as I did from time to time. When Dr. C. shut his site down, she and others relocated to Gorezone.
I've also had the pleasure of being a friend of Deena and Matt Warner in the real world. They are just about the most perfect couple I've ever known and I treasure our friendship.
We've been experiencing problems with the Fiction and Review sections and I humbly apologize if you have had trouble accessing them. I think we're close to having a permanent fix for them and I owe it to Deena.
The other person I owe thanks to is Mister Andrew Monge. When I was as down as I've ever been in my life and ready to throw in the towel here at Horror Drive-In, he was one of many that convinced me to stick with it. And not only that, Andy has become an integral part of the site. The Fiction Section, which is an enormous part of why HD-I has gotten so much more traffic, is all his baby. I may be the so-called publisher, but he is God, aka: The Editor. He asks my opinions on stories and we mostly agree. Sometimes we don't and the final say is always Andy's.
Plus, Andy is one of the most decent people I've ever met. Inside or outside the horror fiction community. I've never met him in the flesh, but we've spoken on the phone and we've exchanged numerous emails. Andy is a righteous dude. A devoted family man, a truly passionate lover of dark literature and a hard working guy. My kind of person. The world could use a lot more like him.
So folks, give 'em a hand. I literally would not be here without Deena and Andy. Two of my best friends.
The rest of you know who you are. I started making a list of other vital individuals, but it quickly grew too great of a task.
The genre is probably stronger now than it has ever been. New books and movies are coming out at a rapid clip. There are more horror fans and professionals than ever. It's fun to be along for the ride. And I owe it all to you.
|
| |

|