Author: Witney

I have officially reached the age where I am going bald. My hair was already thin to begins with, and for the last few years it’s been thinning in the front even further. Currently, I don’t look bald, but my hair doesn’t fall the way it used it. It used to fall in great, alluring locks, covering my eyes with the appeal of a magazine model. These days, it kind of wisps down over my eyes, which can be alluring, but only from certain angles. The fact remains that I am losing my hair.

When I go to get haircuts, I instruct my barbers and stylists not to conceal my receding hairline. Even though I have the usual concerns of aging and vanity, I am determined to go bald gracefully. I will not grow comb-overs. I will not grown my hair long in the back. I will not shave my head, claiming it to be fashion rather than balding. I will not wear hats, knit caps, or any other sort of lying headwear. I will let my hair fall out, and I will embrace it. To cope with my flagging vanity, I will simply whine about it the whole time it’s happening.

But I should also be sure to keep an eye on my moral compass. If popular culture had taught me anything, it’s that losing your hair can drive you into a pit of immorality and crime. Superheros, you may notice, usually have full heads of hair. They are young men in their prime, possessed of excellent physiques, and frozen in a perpetual youth. Peter Parker, to cite an example, became Spider-Man when he was 15 years old. That was in 1963. Do the math. That means he was born in 1947 or 1948. That means Peter Park is, in 2012, going to turn 64. He’s nearly my dad’s age, and older than my mom. Look at him in the pages of a comic, though, and he’s still a vibrant, vital, hard-working young man, perhaps about 29 years old. Spider-Man will always be 29.

His enemies, however, are typically older fellows with shabby physiques and, to the point, bald heads. It’s amazing how a lack of hair can easily equate evil in the world. One can think of a few bald heroes (Jean-Luc Picard comes to mind), but the amount of bald villains are myriad.

In memoriam of the hair I’ve lost, and as a way of analyzing the way baldness can drain you of all righteousness and nobility, I have compiled a list of ten bald villains, culled from my cluttered pop culture imagination. If you are bald, this may serve as an interesting moral essay. If you have a full head of hair, stroke it lovingly, and smile smugly to yourself. If you’re a female… YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND!

 

10) Egghead

from “Batman” (1966-1968)

 

The character of Egghead (as played by Vincent Price) was invented for use in the awesome 1960s “Batman” TV show. He sometimes tooled around with a female sidekick named Olga, Queen of the Cossacks, played by Anne Baxter from “All About Eve.” He wore a bright yellow suit, sported a large bald head, and would throw egg-shaped weapons. I recall that his tear-gas eggs were laid by onion-fed chickens. In a colorful and weird-ass universe, Egghead was probably the strangest villain Batman fought. His dialogue was peppered with stupid egg puns, and Egghead would say the word “egg-zactly” just as often as Catwoman would say “purr-fect.”

Since comic book writers are suckers for canon (the recent decade-long tradition of reboots and the like notwithstanding), Egghead eventually leaked into the comics as well starting in 1992. The new Egghead, included in a single Arkham Asylum-based story, was less egg-centric and conformed to the usual Batman villain pattern of being a normal guy who was driven mad by a life of big-city frustration.

As much as I like the noir-ish 1989 version of Batman, and the angsty 2005 version of Batman, I have an equal affection for the goofy-ass 1960s version of Batman. He lived in a universe where he could be crushed by nine-foot-wide pennies, could be filmed kissing a goat, and would ride missiles into giant jack-in-the-boxes. And he could go up against bald weirdos like Egghead. When “The Dark Knight Rises” comes out later this year, I am going to imagine that the Bane character is actually secretly Egghead.

 

9) Zeus

from “No Holds Barred” (1989)

 

Yes, I was once into professional wrestling. I was into the medium long before they “darkened” the matches, and made them rough and gritty and serious. I was involved in an era where wrestlers like The Honky-Tonk Man could exist, and Jake “The Snake” Roberts was considered one of the coolest things ever. And, of course, we all loved Hulk Hogan, kind of the face of the WWF, and the wresting firmament hero.

No, I’m not going to make a joke about Hulk’s own receding hairline, which he clearly had, even back in the 1980s. No, I’m just going to bring up “No holds Barred,” the first feature film to showcase Mr. Hogan in a leading role. I saw this film opening weekend in the theaters, and giggled through the bulk of the film. Even at the time, I thought it was way too serious, and the drama was clunky. The underdog-rises story and the mob dealings seemed out of place in a wrestling movie. In an odd way, weird-ass fantasy films like “Suburban Commando” played more directly into the Hulk Hogan myth.

In “No Holds Barred,” Hogan, playing a character named Rip, found himself pitted against an evil wrestler named Zeus, played by Tommy “Tiny” Lister. Zeus, with his large shiny bald head (with the letter “Z” carefully shaved onto the side of his scalp) seemed nearly sueprnatural in how tough and evil he was. He could barely speak, and was more interested in doing harm to his opponants than he was in wrestling. It’s bad enough that he was an evil bald man, but get this: In his introductory scene, Zeus, after knocking out his opponent, leans down and forcibly yanks two gigantic fistfulls of hair out of the prone wrestler’s head. Zeus hates hair. He wants everyone to be bald. Talk about evil bald men.

 

8) Lord Voldemort

from “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” (2005) and others

 

Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) may be slipping in under a technicality. All of the men on this list are ordinary human beings who (presumably) went bald under their own powers. Voldemort may only be bald because, at least as far as I could tell, he was part snake. Voldemort has no nose, milk-white skin, and a smooth, smooth bald head that seems to give him away in dark spaces.

Was he bald before he became part snake, or did the snake-ening make his hair fall out? It’s never explained in the films. Maybe they have a scene of his hair falling out in the books. He doesn’t seem to have eyebrows either. It’s never addressed, but I’m willing to bet that he doesn’t have any armpit or pubic hair. Maybe he’s just a newt-slick monster.

I like to think, though, that Voldemort started losing his hair as a student as Hogwarts, and slowly went bald has he became more and more evil. By the time he killed Harry Potter’s parents, he was totally bald (or maybe he just had a ring of hair around the back of his head), and was never going to have his youthful coif ever again. In the movies, it’s never really explained why Voldemort was evil (he was just sort of a bad egg who hated his school). Maybe watching his hair fall out was the crux of his moral flip.

 

7) The Strangers

from “Dark City” (1998)

 

Something is grievously wrong with the world. Every night at midnight, all the people fall asleep at once. While they sleep, a mysterious group of pale-faced evil-looking weirdos in long coats infiltrate the city and inject their brains with a mysterious drug. They replace all their belongings, and, in extreme cases, use their psychic powers to rearrange the buildings around them. Then, a few hours later, everyone wakes up again, unfazed by the changes, often with a new identity.

Alex Proyas’ “Dark City” is a wonderfully weird, dark, striking and thoughtful science fiction film. It dealt with alien control of humans’ reality an entire year before “The Matrix” came along to shake up the sci-fi community. I love it, right up to the “Drangonball”-like ending, where the hero and the villain are floating through the air shooting mind bullets at one another.

The bad guys, by the way, are ALL BALD. There is an entire race of alien-possessed humans controlling the city, and they’re all equally bald. It’s explained later that they are kind of weird translucent parasites that only live inside human skulls, which is why they look so pale, but why are they bald too? What is it about having an alien parasite in your brain that makes you lose your hair? Is it anxiety, or do they need to shave your head to put the alien parasite in? I think the film is prejudiced against bald people. They think that if you have psychic powers and are taken over by a soulless alien being, then you’d just naturally lose your hair. Boo, I say.

 

6) Dr. Wily

from “Mega Man” (1987)

 

Dr. Wily was the villain from about 12 “Mega Man” games. His M.O. Was always the same: He would construct eight evil robots, each with a special theme weapon, and a name to match that weapon. Grenade Man, Bright Man, Bubble Man, etc. As Mega Man defeated each robot master, he would absorb their theme weapon. Mega Man would then infiltrate the towering fortress that Dr. Wily had built, and fight his way to the top. Dr. Wily would always be waiting at the top in a gigantic death tank of some sort, always, always shaped like a human skull. Even Dr. Wily’s entire castle would be shaped like a human skull.

What does Dr. Wily intent to accomplish with his often-failing plan? Some sort of world domination, I suppose. Maybe he just wants to destroy the little blue robot that is always breaking his stuff. He’s going to keep making evil robots until he makes one that can’t be broken. Drill Man couldn’t do it. Ring Man couldn’t do in. Nor could that one robot who looked like a baseball. I think Dr. Wily needs to re-think he plans.

Dr. Wily has a good-natured counterpart in the form of Dr. Light, who built Mega Man. Dr. Light, you may notice, had a full head of hair. He may be gray and breaded, but he has all his hair. Dr. Wily, by glaringly obvious contrast, is suffering from male pattern-baldness. I’m willing to bet that if he hadn’t lost his hair, Dr. Wily would have remained good friends with Dr. Light. More than that, though, maybe the video game designers who conceived of Dr. Wily needed a good evil look, and made him bald. I assume it was a default. Bald = evil. That simple.

 

5) The Vulture

from “The Amazing Spider-Man” (1963)

 

He showed up in the second issue of “The Amazing Spider-Man” and has been cropping up in Spider-Man comics ever since. He was once an electrical engineer named Adrian Toomes with high aspirations and no hair. When he was double-crossed by a professional colleague, he put on a special flight suit (which also gave him super strength) and turned to crime. He named himself The Vulture.

Spider-Man villains suck, don’t they? Are there any good ones? Y’know, that actually seem menacing? A bald electrical engineer in a vulture suit? That’s kind of dumb. The only cool Spider-Man villain is probably The Lizard, who was kind of a wolf-man type character that actually looked like a monster. Maybe Kraven the hunter, who liked to hunt people for sport. But no one seems to be actually scary. Electro has a goofy outfit. Dr. Octopus has a goofy name and a weird power. Mysterio looks kinda neat, but uses movie special effects to fight Spider-Man. I guess in-keeping with the animal nature of Spider-Man’s powers, the bulk of his nemeses were also animal-themed. Hence The Vulture.

A Vulture? An old bald man in a vulture suit? Maybe kinda scary in a way, but now the comic book creators are just being mean. They’re using a bald head as a direct symbol of evil. If the vulture got a nice toupee, the outfit wouldn’t look as scary, and he would give up on crime and maybe turned to justice.

 

4) Charles Montgomery Burns

from “The Simpsons” (1989 – present)

 

Oh yes. Bald men aren’t merely evil super-criminals, thugs, or villains. They’re also wicked, wealthy über-capitalists who step on workers every day as a matter of course. They are so rich, they don’t understand the way the other 99% lives. They sit in their ivory towers, look down on us everyday, hardworking schmoes, cackling wickedly to themselves, lighting illegal cigars with their illegally obtained $1000 bills. Sometimes they’re fat, but not always. They will, however, always be brightly bald.

In popular culture, the exemplar of evil rich bald guys has to be Mr. Burns, the morally empty owner of the Springfield nuclear power plant on “The Simpsons.” He openly embraces a sometime-dangerous form of energy, treats his workers like filthy cattle, embezzled money, bribes his way out of problems, and belongs to every elite ultra-rich cabal of secret villains that the town knows. He doesn’t seem capable of regular human compassion, and is so old that he possesses a streak of dangerous senility.

In an early episode of the show, Homer Simpson discovers that he can re-grow his hair using a recent miracle chemical. His new head of hair grants him promotions and popularity. Mr. Burns sucks up to him, and makes him a Junior Executive. Homer, however, runs out of his miracle chemical the night before a big presentation, and is practically laughed off stage. Mr. Burns, in an uncharacteristic bout of sympathy, lets him keep his job, as he too “once knew the sting of male patterned baldness.” The show openly admits that much of Mr. Burns evil and dissatisfaction comes from his premature balding. Evil bald men. Evil.

 

3) Ming the Merciless

from “Flash Gordon” (1934)

 

He rules the planet Mongo, and travels from planet to planet playfully destroying life for mere pleasure. He takes concubines at his will, kills underlings on a whim, and robs every last dollar from his subjects. He spends his money on new methods of torture, pleasure-giving machines for himself, and a infinite supply of opulent gowns and outfits. He is only happy when someone else is screaming in pain. Ming the Merciless is probably one of the most evil characters in comics history, and serves as one of the archetypal villains for all that came after him. And, of course, he has no hair.

Now, true, Ming is a space alien, and could, technically, come from a species that never has hair. Maybe he’s the same species as Lt. Ilia from “Star Trek: The Motion Picture.” Which is Deltan, by the way. You may now officially mock the Trekkie.

But Ming is probably just another bitter bald man who turned to evil thanks to his vanity. Of all the comic villains in the world, I feel Ming is the only one who would try the following plan that I’ve always kinda wanted to see: Ming would invent a space ray of some kind that would leave its recipients unharmed apart from their full heads of hair. It would, without irradiating them or anything, make all their hair fall out. He would then sit back in evil glee and watch society crumble and mutate as the men all rushed to find wigs, and started wars over their vanity. Yes I am bald, he would think, And soon the whole universe will be.

 

2) Ernst Stavro Blofeld

from “You Only Live Twice” (1967) and others.

 

I am currently working my way through every James Bond film (which you can read about on CraveOnline). I had previously only seen the more recent ones (and “Goldfinger”), and revisiting some of the films from the 1960s offer an interesting look at a villain I had always heard about, but had never actually seen on the big screen. Ernst Blofeld. Blofeld was the #1 leader behind an evil cabal of super-terrorists known as SPECTRE, which was devoted, as its name indicated, to Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion. I guess I could see, in a comic book sort of way, how such an organization could come to exist. Perhaps there were numerous dissatisfied billionaires in the world who decided to pool their resources and take down civilization. And they need a leader, right?

For the first two films, we do not see Blofeld’s face. We only see his sporty silver nehru jacket, and his startled Persian cat. When we finally do see Blofeld, in “You Only Live Twice,” he is played by Donald Pleasance, has a great ugly scar on his face, and is, naturally, bald as a plucked chicken. I think we all kind of expected Blofeld to be bald. No one though of him as having a nice, tall blonde hairdo, did they? Perhaps we’re all prejudiced against the bald. In the following film, “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service,” Blofeld would be played by Telly Savalas, who was well known for his baldness. In “Diamonds are Forever,” Blofeld would turn into Charles Grey, and would actually have hair. Too late. The damage is done. We know he’s wearing a wig now.

Dr. Evil from “Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery” is clearly just a direct lift-off of Blofeld, right down to the Persian cat, scar, and silver jacket. And, of course, the round, bald head. There it is. Like an Easter Island Head. Standing, shining in the center of a techno lab. That bald head is the center of trillions of dollars of grief and terrorism. It is responsible for thousands of deaths.

 

Lex Luthor

from “Action Comics” (1940) 

Probably the most famous supervillain in all of comic book history, Lex Luthor is, as I feel odd explaining, the arch-nemesis of Superman. Superman, you see, has natural talents and superpowers granted him by mere species of super-powered space alien. Lex Luthor, a rich tycoon, is a resentful empiricist, who has put all his faith into technology and personal pride. When he sees a naturally powerful God-like being among us, he sees not a hero or someone to be looked up to, but a deity to be defeated. A God to overcome. Lex Luthor then calmly pools his resources, uses his intellect, and builds super machines to either kill, imprison, or merely interrupt the everyday life of Superman.

The name “superman” invokes Nietzsche’s idea of the übermensch; that is: a man who has become naturally superior to those around him not boy dominating them, but by fully realizing his own will to power. Luthor, in keeping with Nietzsche’s philosophy, is one of the herd who resents his superior. Only Superman holds a kind of religious ideal to justice and gentleness and being a good person (contrary to his abilities), and Luthor is the one trying to realize his intellectual triumph. Interesting philosophical interplay there.

Luthor makes the #1 spot because he is essentially all the previous entries rolled into one. He has the need to dominate like Ming. The evil mad scientist urge like Dr. Wily. The terrorist leanings of Blofeld. The aloof wealth of Mr. Burns. Lex Luthor is the world’s best villain.

And, yes, the man is totally bald. Totally.

 

 

Witney Seibold is going bald. He will not become evil. He promises. He writes about movies a lot, and his work can be found on his ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years! He also contributes to CraveOnline as co-host of The B-Movies Podcast, the professor behind the Free Film School, and the patient critic behind The Series Project. He has never looked into hair re-growth formulas.

 

The topic this week is animal hybrids. Popular culture is full of half-animal beings, going as far back as ancient myth. old takes are rife with stories of Minotaurs, werewolves, mermaids and other half-animal people. These are beings that seem to live in the uncomfortable between-world, separating the small fearful pocket of vulnerable humanity, and the vast, darkened world of chaos that is the Natural Realm. However modern our thinking has become, we still fear the power God and nature have over us, and humans continue to create stories about animal people, however trite they may be (I’m not sure if I see much of Nature’s Chaos in the eyes of Team Jacob).

Modern science-fiction has, thanks to some wonderfully well thought-out scientific McGuffins, continued the storytelling legacy of the animal/human hybrid by bringing up the relatively new idea of genetic engineering. Just splice some genes together, add radiation or hubris, and you have a legitimate abomination, ready to cuddle or kill, depending on their disposition.

I’ve thought up ten fictional animal hybrids from the vast depths of my pop-culture-addled brain, and listed them below. There is, however (at least in my mind) a distinct difference between a sci-fi-based animal hybrid, and a mere magical creature that can turn into a person and back. So, to clarify, I’ve come up with the following rules. Rule 1: The creature has to be created using some sort of pseudo-science. Magical amulets, pacts with Satan, and other mystical origins are not allowed. Rule 2: The creature has to essentially be in a permanent state. If they can change back and forth between two species, it doesn’t count. Rule 3: The creature in question has to be a blend of already-known Earth species. Alien creatures are right out. The creatures need not be part human. They can be, for the purposes of this list, be a blend of two or more animals.

Now that we’re all on the same page, let’s take a look at some delightfully scary crimes against nature. Here are ten notable animal hybrid monsters.

 

Dren

From “Splice” (2009)

They are hotshot genetic engineers in their early ‘30s. They have no kids, are not married, and live in a blissful rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, making huge amounts of money creating weird living blobs of mixed DNA for various mega-corporations. Clive and Elsa (Adrien Brody and Sarah Polley) are the mad scientists we all hope we’ll become someday. Not only do they have the knowhow to tinker with the fabric of life, but they look good doing it. They know, thanks to their tools and their smarts, have the capacity to make a human hybrid of some kind, but they have been banned by recent human-tinkering laws, and feel generally put off by certain taboos about, well, playing God.

Nothing doing. Elsa and Clive decide to make their own human/animal hybrid, mixing human DNA with the DNA of a whole roulette of animals. The result is Dren, a female beast that starts life as a fleshy white squirrel creature, and eventually matures into a pubescent, very human-looking thing. She has no hair, and her eyeballs are disconcertingly wide-spaced on her face, but she’s clearly part human, despite her tail, her stinger, and her fleshy wing flaps. Vincenzo Natali’s “Splice” is a surprisingly thoughtful film about the actual science of blending humans with animals, as well as the ethical questions that should or should not arise when conducting such experiments. Then there’s the wonderfully weird-ass sexual angle. This is a really good movie, and has a really cool human beast.

 

The Kothoga

From: “The Relic” (1997)

“The Relic” is one of the more fun monster films of recent memory. It’s rare anymore that we just have a clever creature storming about an enclosed space ripping people apart anymore (the films of the Sci-Fi Channel are all so arch these days), so it was nice to see one of them as late as the mid-1990s. The enclosed space in Peter Hyams’ film was a natural history museum. The creature was nicknamed the Kothoga, thought to be the living relative of an ancient South American myth.

The Kothoga was, as we learn during the course of the film, actually a human anthropologist named John Whitney who accidentally drank some tea made with an ultra-rare form of fungus, rife with a mixture of animal hormones. The hormones mixed with Whitney’s human DNA, and made his body mutate into a large, lion-sized monster with radial claws, sharp teeth, and a long whipping tail. It also had a pair of stag beetle tusks on its face which allowed it to rip off human heads with surprising efficiency. It turns out that The Kothoga was hungry for a certain chemical, which was, conveniently, only produced in human brains. Giant multi-animal creature ripping out human brains to survive. This is why we go to the movies.

 

Max

From: “Man’s Best Friend” (1993)

Certain large dogs kind of frighten me, mostly because of movies like this, which posits that any stray or pound-rescue dog can potentially be a genetically altered killing machine. In this little-seen 1993 horror flick, a Tibetan Mastiff is rescued from a genetics lab, where it had indeed been blended with the DNA of many exotic animals, like large cats and the like. I think if I were a mad geneticist with the abilities to blend species, I’d start with a light mixture; I wouldn’t go straight for the multi-animal mash-up. Maybe give a monkey 10% wasp DNA to start, and go from there. But that’s just me. What do I know about being a mad geneticist?

Anyway, Max eventually lands in a typical suburban home, where it acts mostly like a dog, but begins to demonstrate some uncannily aggressive instincts. In one scene, it chases a cat up a tree, and proceeds to grow cat claws and climb after it. Max then swallows the cat whole. It also manages to – in one rather hilarious scene – using its multi-animal prowess, seduce a neighbor dog. This is a silly and predictable low-budget monster flick, but Max is, for anyone who has ever loved a large dog, kind of a badass. The video cover shows Lance Henricksen holding a gun, and a giant robot dog behind him. Don’t be fooled. There are no robot dogs in the film.

 

The Jackalope

From actual folklore

Who knows how the jackalope came to be? Is it magical? An experiment gone wrong? A new species of creature only photographed on rare occasions, and featured on postcards for generations? I know they’re real, because I’ve seen their mounted heads at truck stops and tourist traps. They are said to possess magical powers, and can perhaps heal the sick. Some say that they are an unnatural cross-breed between pygmy deer and a now-extinct breed of killer rabbit. They are exclusive to America, having been spotted in Wyoming, Arizona, and other western wooded areas. Some say they can imitate other animals, including humans.

I intend to do an extensive research paper on the jackalope someday. It will give up its secrets to me, and not just break my heart, like that course deadbeat Bigfoot. That guy claimed to me all magical and mythological, and even implied that he was created by alien scientists, but he was just a jerk who refused to get a job, rarely paid his share of the rent, and who wrecked my car when he got drunk that one time. Stay the hell away from Bigfoot. He’ll only disappoint you. And he’ll eat all your Bugles.

 

The Futar

From: Chapterhouse: Dune (1985)

Of the Dune books, I have only read the first. I have heard that the Dune sequels are like a dangerous narcotic. You need to up the doses to get the same level of high, and once you start, it’s very hard to stop. You find yourself trapped in an increasingly complex mythology, spanning ever-increasing millennia, wondering how 340,000-year-old orders of witches have anything to do with Paul Atreides or The Spice or anything else you learned in the first book. Thanks to some well-read friends, however, I have been filled in on certain details of the original five sequels.

One of the details I have retained was the tale of the Futar, a semi-intelligent species of half-cat-half-human hybrids who have been cultivated to be loyal pets, and also to destroy the Honored Matres, enemies of the Bene Gesserit. They are like ape-shaped kitties with enough smarts to act as servants, but not enough will to think for themselves. They also tend to imprint on their Handlers, making them the best possible pets. Of all the plot-intense rigmarole to have popped up in the various Dune books, I’m not sure why this one stands out so well in my mind. Maybe it’s because, if given the chance, I would love to own a smart cat man as a pet.

 

The Children

From: The Island of Dr. Moreau (1896)

What is the law? No spill blood! What happens when we break the law? We go to the House of Pain. Are we not men?

Probably one of the scariest stories ever written, H.G. Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau shows what happens when a mad scientist, left to his own devices, and somehow able to vivisect people and animals together, is left to form his own society of half-animal mutants. Dr. Moreau, as viewed by Prendick, the novel’s narrator, is clearly a madman, given into hurtful hubris and his own capacity for biological depravity. Moreau gets a kick out of making animal men, and gets a God-like thrill from poking around inside his fleshy, furry creations. The children, meanwhile, are very simple-minded beasts, who have to constantly remind themselves to behave like men. Walk on two legs, not on four. It’s terrifying to think of the borderline intelligence and madness the animal men must inhabit. Constantly thinking to do simple animal things like spill blood, but having to constantly remind themselves not to.

Wells called his book “and exercise in youthful blasphemy.” He essentially tried to think of the most horrible monsters possible, and proceeded to write one of the best sci-fi books ever written. There have been several film versions of The Island of Dr. Moreau, the best of which is easily the 1932 “Island of Lost Souls,” which has the same scary gut-churning qualities of the book.

 

Andre Delambre

From: “The Fly” (1958)

Dr. Andre Delambre (David Hedison) was a blissful family man who was attempting to revolutionize all of civilization by inventing a teleporting machine. He was successful, but the teleporter had an unexpected side effect: an ordinary housefly accidentally slipped into the teleporter with him, and the machine, sensing two living beings in the tube, sort of spliced them together. Andre eventually grew the head and arm of a fly, and the fly has the head and arm of Andre. The result is a terrifying monster to haunt little kids’ nightmares for years. Thanks a lot 1958 classic.

And, not to be outdone, in 1986, David Cronenberg remade “The Fly,” this time with a new metaphor (many people see the bodily mutation as a metaphor for AIDS), and an increased gross-out factor of 12. I saw the remake of “The Fly” on TV, and they weren’t shy about excluding all the gooey bits. Watching great strips of fetid skin dropping off of Jeff Goldblum’s body is not something that you can ever unsee. Nor is the scene where he barfs acid on that guy’s hand.

The Fly, despite being made well after the main monster cycles had ended, and despite being made by 20th Century Fox, perhaps deserves a secondary spot n the Universal monster canon.

 

Michelangelo, Raphael, Leonardo, and Donatello

From: “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles”

They started out as turtles, and were exposed to radioactive goop. They had recently been in contact with human DNA, so they became part human. That counts them as hybrids, right? I think it counts. Well, depending on which original story you go with. In the comic and the TV series, they were turtles who were exposed to traces of human DNA, and Splinter was a human exposed to rat DNA. In the feature film, the radioactive glop merely mutated them into part humans. For the sake of this list, I’ll have to go with the cartoon story. Otherwise they are not hybrids, but mere anthropomorphic animals.

Gotta love radiation. There was a time when it was responsible for every last superpower, mutant, and monster. Giant mantis? Radiation. Spider powers? Radiation. These days the scientific bugaboo is genetic engineering. Y’know what? You can use whatever scientific buzzword you like. Just give me my magical monsters, and all will be well.

 

The Lizard

From various “Spider-Man” comics, first appearing in 1963

I was reading over The Lizard’s history, and the soap opera mechanics used to keep him alive and vital are pretty hilarious. I mean, we all know the origin story of Curt Connors’ alter-ego: Having lost an arm in the war, he, being a brilliant chemist, concocts a syringe full of lizard juice, hoping that lizard’s talent for growing back their tails would work on his arm. It did grown back his arm, but also grew him a tail and scales all over his body. It also did a number on his brain, making his savage and animal, and imbued him with a hatred of all things human. Depending on what mythology you’re going with, Dr. Connors can transform back into a human by will, or he needs a special injection. I like to think that, were it not for the injection, he would remain a giant lizard man indefinitely.

As the years passed, The Lizard was given more and more protracted reasons for existing. Since Dr. Connors was a friend of Spider-Man, the hero was always coming to him for specialty chemicals to defeat bad guys. The chemicals would help Spider-Man, but usually unleash his lizard form. At one point, Spider-Man was cured of his spidery radiation, only to have his DNA fight back, and give him extra arms or even mutate him even more into a hairy spider beast. What fun! The Lizard is making all kinds of hybrids. He also occasionally declares a need to turn the world lizardy. Dream big, Dr. Connors. Dream big.

 

Marvin Mange

From: “The Animal” (2001)

Um… maybe the less said about this, the better.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a housecat who is currently living in human form in Los Angeles. As a kitten, he saw many movies, and when a genetic accident left him in human form, he started to write about movies as a hobby. You can read hundreds of his review on his ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years! He also writes for CraveOnline, where he heads up The Series Project. He cracks wise at movie trailers as part of The Trailer Hitch. He is also the talking co-host of The B-Movies Podcast. That cat’s everywhere.

 

 

I must have melting on the mind. I recently wrote an article for Geekscape about characters from popular culture that melted; like characters that, rather than burning up or being shot, actually bodily collapse into puddles of goo. It was an easier task to think up than you think, as more characters than you would think have melted. Indeed, I had to come up with a rule for myself: The melting characters had to melt entirely, and not merely be the kind of superpowered beings that can melt and re-solidify.

 

But, given a few more moments of thought, the melting-into-a-puddle-of-water schtick has been tapped numerous times by the writers of comic books. There are certain superpowers that some people just can’t leave alone. Some are so common as to be expected (flying, super-strength, being bulletproof), while others are entirely non-useful, but are still used anyway (you know how many superheroes can shrink? How useful is that one really?). Give the usefulness and dramatic practicality of teleportation, I’m surprised so few heroes can do it. But the ability to turn into a liquid seems to be one of those superpowers that writers just love. It’s fun to imagine and, I postulate, fun to draw.

 

Heck, the liquid powers have even leaked into regular science fiction. Look at Odo from “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.” He doesn’t turn into water, per se, but he can become a liquid, and change his appearance accordingly. Ditto for the T-1000.

 

Y’know, thinking about it, I now consider how impractical such a superpower would be in a combat-type situation. Sure, if you’re made of water, you can’t be harmed by bullets or fists, but how would you attack a foe? I suppose you could drown them in your own body, but if they can run faster than you, then you’re kinda screwed. The human body, when you think about it, does not amount to a large mass of water. If you were to melt into water, your body wouldn’t entirely fill an average bathtub. Here’s one way it would be way useful: If you’re trying to flee an attacker, and you’re close to a large body of water, you could mingle your own body with the fluids of the lake, and remain unfound for as long as you like. Hm… If you’re body’s made of water, would you need to eat? Could you digest the fish in the lake in liquid form? And why the Hell am I think about this?

 

Anyway, as it’s time for another weekly list for Geekscape, I have wracked my brain, asked some friends, and done some very cursory internet research, and come up with the following ten beings that are actually made of living water. Let’s get wet.

 

The Liquidator

From “Darkwing Duck” (1991-1995)

 

 

 

 

The Liquidator only showed up in, I think, four or five episode of “Darkwing Duck,” but, to my much-addled mind, he stood out as one of the central characters. That he was a boss in the “Darkwing Duck” video game probably compounded that. From what I remember, an evil adman named Bud Flud was trying to poison the water supply of a competitor’s soda company, when he fell into a vat of chemicals, and had his molecular structure rearranged. Now that I’ve typed that sentence, I am curious as to how many times the phrases “fell into a vat of chemicals” and “had their molecular structure rearranged” have been used in comic book lore.

 

No mere milquetoast villain, The Liquidator had the stentorian voice of a TV commercial pitchman, and a fast-talking adman approach to his everyday conversation. He may have been made of water, but The Liquidator seemed to be charming and seductive. Not in a sexual way, but in that way commercials for breakfast cereals are. I think even the youngest of kids might be savvy enough to see that The Liquidator is making a villain into the very commercials that sponsor the show they’re watching on Saturday morning.

 

Hydro-Man 

From “The Amazing Spider-Man” (1981)

 

 

Again, a random everyday fellow, this time named Morrie Bench and working as a crewman aboard a naval vessel, fell into a body of water where some scientists were testing a nuclear molecular thingamajig, and his atoms were scrambled turning him into living water. Morrie Bench, blaming the nearby Spider-Man for his mutation, became a rival, naming himself Hydro-Man, donning a costume occasionally, and even joining certain supervillain syndicates to take down Spider-Man. I have learned that Hydro-Man even teamed up with Sandman on a few occasions, as they could blend their respective bodily elements, and become a composite monster called Mud-Thing. Yeah, it sounds like the writers were really stretching for ideas on that one.

 

Spider-Man has had some pretty weird and crappy villains in his life. Indeed, I have heard it argued that Spider-Man, unlike Batman, has never emerged with a really clear arch-rival. The Green Goblin is arch and silly even when compared to a goofy crazed criminal like The Joker. At least Hydro-Man is an easy villain to swallow. Guy made of water. Easy. I’ll take Hydro-Man over, say, Tangle, any day of the week. Do you remember Tangle? Of course not. Let’s move on.

 

Jack Frost 

From “Jack Frost” (1997)

 

 

Two feature films came out within a year of one another, both with the same title, and both with the same premise: In one, a young boy, mourning his dead father, wished the dead father’s soul into the body of a snowman he just built. The snowman springs to life, á la Frost the Snowman, and teaches his kid a few more valuable lessons before moving into the afterlife. In the other film, a straight-to-video horror cheapie made the year previous, a serial killer on a prisoner transport, runs into (naturally) a chemical truck, and merges bodily with the snow on the ground outside. The serial killer, already named Jack Frost, forms into a snowman, and continues his reign of terror.

 

I haven’t seen the former film, but I can attest for the quality of the serial killer snowman flick.  Jack Frost (Scott MacDonald) is a pointedly stupid film with dumb jokes and a weird, weird, stupid premise. During the course of the film, Frost learns that he can be melted, re-solidify, turn into vapor, snow, or mere water at a moment’s notice. That makes him a water supervillain in my mind. Some of his one-liners outstripped the stupid jokes in the equally-regarded “Thankskilling” last year. “Who are you?” someone asks of him. “The world’s most pissed off snowcone!” He replies. “How does it feel to be immortal?” he is asked later. “It feels… COOOOLD!” he screams. Echoes of “Batman & Robin” there.

 

Inque 

From “Batman Beyond” (1999-2001)

 

 

Maybe she’s not technically made of water (it is established over the course of the series that Inque is actually hurt by water), but Inque has all the trappings of a water villain. She seems to be made of liquid, and can melt into a puddle of blackened water (perhaps ink?), and can drown people in her body. She also clings to the side of the Batmobile in one episode. Her origins are never explained, so I’ll assign one to her: She was working at a printing press when a new experimental ink was being delivered after hours to the plant. Inque (real name: Emily Bossment) was trying to steal a stack of rare error comics to sell on the black market when she accidentally stepped in front of the experimental ink. The ink, mixed with some recycled paper, reduced to liquid, mixed with her body, and made her inky and liquidy. Her only rival is Liquid Paper.

 

Inque is not a character I’m too familiar with, but I have seen plenty of young ladies dressed as her at various comic book conventions. She is sultry and Gothy and has a neat look. Plus her skin is blue, which seems to draw a certain crowd; I’m guessing Mystique from the X-Men would not have been as popular as she is, were it not for her blue face.

 

Fathom 

From: “Justice Machine” (1983)

 

 

One of the off-brand comic companies, Comico Comics is one of those universes only followed by obscurists and lovers of the outré. Many people love Comico’s “The Elementals” for their grittiness; no mere superhero book, “The Elementals” was raw, openly dealt with real political issues, rife with sexuality, and, of course, full of amped-up violence that was certainly not o.k. for the kiddie crowd. The origin story of The Elementals, despite this, sounds like the usual superhero stuff, but far starnger and more magical: evidently the four elemental Gods, needing avatars on Earth to combat an evil sorcerer, selected four people (one apiece) that died by their own element (air, earth, fire, water), and gave them powers related to that element. The Elements were named Morningstar, Vortex, Monolith, and, for this list, Fathom.

 

Fathom was a ditzy model type named Becky Gordon (no relation to the commissioner) was mutated into a fish woman by the Water Elemental after she drowned after falling off a boat. She had gills and webbed fingers and all, but could also turn herself into water on a whim. Fathom differs from all the water monsters on this list in one important regard: In addition to being bodily made of water, she’s also dead. Now is she made of water, or is she a resurrected spirit who happens to reside in water. We’ll argue the semantics of that some other time.

 

Alex Mack 

From: “The Secret World of Alex Mack” (1994 – 1998)

 

 

Alex (Larisa Oleynik) is an ordinary teenage girl living in a bland everytown America. I think the actual town was called Paradise Falls or some such thing. Let me check… Oh sorry. It was called Paradise Valley. Anyway, as can now be predicted, Alex was, on her way to Jr. High, hit by a truck carrying an experimental chemical, spaying her body. She gained superpowers. Where are those chemicals when I need them? I’d happy be sprayed with radiation if I knew I would be granted the ability to turn into water. Anyway, Alex Mack gained several disparate superpowers from the accident, including telekinesis, power bolts and, oddly the ability to turn into water. It’s unclear if she just has liquid powers, or if she’s now made of water, but I choose to believe she’s made of water. She shared her secret with only a few friends.

 

Not exactly a hard-hitting superhero myth like in comics, “The Secret World of Alex Mack,” a Nickelodeon series based on a series of books, played more like a sitcom. Alex did not don tights or fight crime, but merely tried to keep her secret from the world at large. I brushed against this show in vague ways during its run, but am more familiar with similar (if sillier) shows like “Out of This World.” I can say this for sure: There are probably hundreds of boys in the world who had their very first crushed on Alex. Larisa Oleynik went on to be the cutesy Bianca character in “10 things I Hate About You” and is currently on the reboot of “Hawai’i Five-O.”

 

Cascade 

 

From: “Justice League” (1994)

 

(She’s the pixie in red)

 

Cascade, nee Sujatmi Sunowaparti, was a Balinese woman who was exposed to radiation, and become a water woman. Odd how many of these water people are females. In order to fight injustice in Indonesia, Sujatmi put on a costume, and joined up with a team called The Global Guardians, calling herself Cascade. As Cascade, she could not only turn into a watery mass, but had the added bonus of being able to control bodies of water with her mind. This seems a lot handier than simply melting. I think I would definitely want that thrown if, should I become a waterman. Why simply dampen my foes, when I could wash away their whole car with a mind-controlled tidal wave? Although I would probably choose a less dainty name than “Cascade.”

 

I like that Cascade worked in Bali. The Global Guardians were essentially a second-rate Justice League of America, only with less recognizable heroes, and having the distinct advantage of being able to work outside the U.S. purview. The Justice League were a blowhard and public military force. The Global guardians, it seems to me, were more of a peacekeeping U.N.-type organization. Any followers of The Global Guardians, I ask that you chime in. How does Cascade look in a sari?

 

Naiad

From: “The Strangers” (1993)

 

 

Naiad, named after the Greek water nymphs, is identical to all the other water types. She only appeared in an issue or two of a totally obscure comic book. Naiad was a villainess who fought against The Strangers in their short lived (and some would say ill-advised) title as part of Malibu Comics’ Ultraverse. There is no other available information on Naiad. She is way, way obscure. Do you remember her? I barely do, and I think I was one of the only people on the planet who was openly excited about The Ultraverse.

 

Say what you will of The Ultraverse and their oddball canon of off-brand superheroes, I admire their ambition. They tried to create an entirely new universe with its own mythology, dynamic and superhero ethic. I rooted for the Ultraverse; they were kind of the underdog in the 1990s battle between Marvel, DC, and the (definitely ill-advised) Image comics. The origin stories in The Ultraverse all involved people being imbued random superpowers from a mysterious and sudden spate of energy blasts from the Moon. That means Naiad, for however obscure she might be, was granted her powers magically. That makes her the only water person on this list who wasn’t harmed in a chemical accident. Well, her and Fathom.

 

Aqueduct

From “Ghost Rider” (1977)

 

 

Like a lot of Marvel characters from the 1970s, Aqueduct has been through several incarnations, and has worn several costumes. I think I appreciate multiple repurposing in comics more than I do for movie remakes. Comics, as I have pointed out in the past, resemble soap operas, so bending and stretching your canon can take on a delightfully delirious quality over the years. It’s fun to look back at the history of a character, and actually watch their hair and costumes change as fashions do; if you look at someone like, say Adam Warlock (if you remember him), and you’ll see his ‘70s bodybuilder hairdo turn into a ‘80s mullet, and later become a ‘90s Goth coif. Fun.

 

Aqueduct, then, started his life as a radiation-mutated solider who could manipulate water with his mind. He, for some reason, fought Ghost Rider. Later he became an ally to Ghost Rider. Then he found he could draw up oil, and he fought in the Middle East. At one point he disguised himself as Captain America. He eventually changed his name to Aqueduct, and is one of those tiny ancillary Marvel characters that writers occasionally drag out of mothballs when they need a water guy. I’m sure Marvel has hundreds of these. Is he made of water? You know what? Not technically. But my early memories of The Water Wizard all involve him making men out of water to attack good guys. So he squeaks in.

 

The Waters of Mars

From: “Doctor Who” (2005 – present)

 

 

From the 2009 “special” episode. It turns out there is water on Mars. It also turns out that it’s living water. It turns out the living water can seep into human bodies and possess their minds. And then it wants to infect other people, so it goes on a silent creepy rampage, trying to possess the small band of astronauts on Mars. It also seems to be able to turn human bodies into seeping masses of scary weirdness. And, most chilling, it can never tire. As The Doctor (this was David Tennant) points out, water can carve canyons and form mountains. It takes millions of years, but as long as there is water in the atmosphere, it will dominate. Sure, you may be in an airtight space pod, but if an angry river is determined to get in, it will eventually, even if it takes years. This is a notion of watermen that is rarely brought up: Water never fails to succeed. It changed form, but is never properly destroyed.  

 

And, since this is “Doctor Who,” they have to hold up the tradition of cheap-looking, but still-scary monster makeup. The Waters of Mars seem to be hollow-eyed zombies who are constantly leaking, and have big, gaping, blackened mouths hanging from their faces. This is a show known for its haunted house theatrics, and The Waters of Mars fit every bill and tradition of a show whose true origin was back in the 1960s. Good on you, British sci-fi. You made another cool monster.

 

 

For some reason, Witney Seibold really has to pee. He’ll be right back. In the meantime, read his other output.

His ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years!

The Series Project.

The Trailer Hitch.

Free Film School.

From my favorite book when I was 9, The Official Dungeons & Dragons Monster Manual (1978 edition): “Shambling mounds, or ‘shamblers’ are found in dismal marshes or certain wet subterranean places. They are omnivorous, feeding upon any living material (via their weird roots and tendrils). They attack fearlessly, clubbing with their limbs twice per melee round.”

I was watching Wes Craven’s early film “Swamp Thing” recently, and the Shambling Mound kept coming to mind. I realized that, like characters who melt, or living food items, our pop culture consciousnesses have a specialized corner devoted to big living piles of stuff. Big wet mounds of living garbage. Seriously. Give it a few moments thought, and you’ll find that big gooey evil beings (or sometimes good ones) are shambling about the occasional film, game, or TV series. Actually, don’t give it thought, as I have compiled a list of ten of them for you to ponder.

Here, then, are the top-10 shambling mounds in popular culture.

 

10) The Creeping Terror

from “The Creeping Terror” (1964)

The story goes that the producers of “The Creeping Terror,” the 1964 Vic Savage film that we all know only because of “Mystery Science Theater 3000,” had actually made an elaborate and convincing monster suit for the central monster in their invasion flick. It was, and this is only according to legend, very convincing and scary. But then, at the last minute, there was a theft on set, and someone made of with the awesome monster suit. With shooting scheduled to commence the next day, and needing to stick to the low-budget, less-than-a-week-long shooting schedule, the producers threw together a suit at the last minute, and the result is the shambling mound we see on the screen.

The monster is a large, slug-like being with a big, upright… proboscis?… sticking up in the front. It looks like a bunch of kids under a quilt. It eats people. Well, people lay quietly still while the monster kind of shambles over them. I’m guessing it’s eating them. The monster is never properly named, so we can only ever refer to this quilt monster as The Terror. That creeps.

I’ve said before that cheap special effects can be way more charming and impactful than slick special effects. I like the utter obvious cheapness of The Creeping Terror. You can tell it was made by excited filmmakers. Or panicked ones. Either way, the exterior story is way more interesting than anything in the movie.

 

9) The Adipose

from “Doctor Who” (2007)

“Doctor Who” has no shortage of oddball aliens with arch schemes to take over or destroy Earth. If they’re in the past, the future, or in some parallel universe, there’s invariably going to be a creature who wants to kill all the humans, and take all the cool stuff we got. I guess humans make the best stuff, and have the sexiest women. Why else would aliens always be so interested?

One of the stranger monsters to invade Earth was a being called Adipose who was using human bodies to store their young. But not like an incubator, like in “Alien.” They were harvesting our fat to create their young out of it. Yes, they are beings made of human fat cells. We only ever saw their young, which looked like little foot-high smiling marshmallows with arms and legs. It’s never addressed in the episode in which they appear, but I imagine they’re slimy to the touch, and feel like wet, wiggling puppies, coated in crisco. They don’t rightfully shamble, I suppose but little walking lumps of human fat, I think, qualify.

 

8) Heap

from MAD Magazine #5 (1953)

Who here has read the early issue of MAD Magazine? I bet it’s more than we think. I liked the madcap weirdness the early issues possess. There’s a kind of chaos in the early issues of MAD you don’t get too many other places. The newer issues tap into it occasionally, but there’s something about the 1950s that made the weirdness all the weirder. I like to think that, if I was raised in the 1950s, I would have read MAD on a regular basis.

In the fifth issue of the magazine, they ran a story called “HEAP!” wherein a mysterious alien force imbued life to a pile of garbage. It rose up into a big lump and menaced scoety. It was, however, a friendly mound, and the local police were able to feed it, give it a home and a life. It even managed to find a female pile of ick which it would proceed to date and marry. My mom still tells stories of reading about Heap, and how, while preparing for a date, would gingerly comb it’s head down.

Living pile of garbage. Thank you MAD. It turns out that Heap was also based on a mossy monster from the comics in the 1940s. I haven’t read those, but the cover drawings I’ve found online look pretty wicked.

 

7) Sludge

from the Malibu comic “Sludge” (1994)

Who remembers the Ultraverse? I used to read those comics back in the mid 1990s. It was created by Malibu comics, and it was a somewhat successful attempt to create a new superhero canon to compete with Marvel and DC. It was mildly successful, I say, in that Marvel ended up buying the characters, and featuring them in Marvel titles. The setup was this: Mysterious blasts of energy, originating on the moon, have been hitting random people on Earth, providing them with superpowers. A cable car in San Francisco hits a team of strangers, and they decide to team up. Some kids are mutated, and they form a group of superpowered runaways, sorts like a directionless X-Men. And, most disgustingly, a recently murdered New York cop, who had been disposed of in a sewer, was hit by energy and merged with the sewage around him.

The result is Sludge, a half-man, half-sewage creature with, uh, sewage powers. Like he’s eight feet tall, but can ooze through small space. His mind isn’t all there, and he makes grammatical errors even in his interior monologue. Sludge, despite the gross and weird origin story, was played as a tragic figure. Disgusted by his own appearance, he longed for death, but found that, thanks to his makeup, was unable to die. He sought out evil superpowered beings who might have the secret, and often found himself doing dubious and evil things in return for his own murder. How sad. I was fond of the comic, though, as the villains were always kind of bonkers (there was a gator man, and a pumpkin-head man). Sludge though? Weird.

 

6) The Kalamanthis

from The Chronicles of Narnia (1949 -1954)

No information exists on the Kalamanthis.

 

5) Mi-go

from “The Fungi from Yuggoth” (1929, 30)

Only the most hardcore of H.P. Lovecraft fans have probably waded through this completely surreal set of brief poetic cantos that he wrote early in his career. I have a book-on-tape version of them, and they’re obtuse and hard-to-follow. Most of the sonnets deal with forbidden knowledge, and exploring the strange other-realm of Yuggoth where the fungi live. The sonnets are certainly evocative, but don’t have the teenage nerd appeal of the stories he’s better known for. They, instead, seem more like an ancient work of literature from a civilization we don’t know a whole lot about. I suppose, in that regard, tey were successful.

The fungi themselves were a semi-intelligent race of planet creatures. In the poem, they come from a lush, mysterious, misty Edenic realm on Earth, where they live in half-conscious bliss. In other stories, the fungi are mentioned, but they were repurposed as a malignant growing force from a distant planet. Either way, they were greasy, lumpy fungal forms. Shambling to be sure.

 

4) Sigmund

from “Sigmund and the Sea Monsters” (1973 – 9175)

I’ve written about this show in the past, so I’ll try to be brief. Sigmund was a polite sea monster that was ousted and rejected by his more mean-spirited sea monster family. He fled onto a beach where be befriended to young human boys, who would hide Sigmund in their secret beach clubhouse, and get into wacky misadventures with him. The show was a boilerplate ’70s sitcome with very, very slight twinges of satire hanging about it. It was one of the more successful shows of the Sid and Marty Krofft canon.

Sigmund himself has a strange anatomy. He’s clearly part octopus, as he’s squishy and has tentacles. But he also has leafy, slimy flaps of seaweed handing off his head. In my mind, Sigmud was actually part plant, if not entirely. In dialogue, they use the word “squid” a lot, but I’m positive they were plants, those sea monsters. Either way, they were capable of being dysfunctional and goofy.

 

3) The Shambling Mound

from Dungeons & Dragons (1974 – present)

The inspiration for this list, the shambling mound, took up way too much space in my childhood imagination to not mention here. The mound was an acidic lump of wet leaves that could melt you with acids and pound you with tendrils. I never actually played a game that featured a shambling mound, but it seemed pretty cool. I loved the picture in my old Monster Manual, and I would spend days re-drawing it (as well as other monsters). Monster battle royales would form in my head.

If you’ve ever encountered a shambling mound in your D&D game, let me know. I’d love to hear tales of actual (well, in-game) hands-on experience with these things. It will satisfy so many of my childhood fantasies.

 

2 and 1 (tie) The Man Thing and The Swamp Thing

from Marvel comics (1971) and DC comics (1971) respectively.

I know there are plenty of comic book purists out there who are going to rush to the defense of these creatures, and point out to me the subtle differences between the two (one can speak, another can’t; their origins are different), but I think we can all safely assume that both The Man Thing and The Swamp Thing occupy the exact same space in our pop culture memories. They fulfill the exact same need. They appeared in the same year, and they even look alike. Perhaps one company ripped off the other. Perhaps it was just one of those happy coincidences. Either way, we have two popular swamp monster shambling about.

The Man Thing was bound to the Florida Everglades, and was the result of an experimental serum that turned a brilliant scientist into a living hulk of moss. The Man Thing can’t really think like a person, but has empathic powers, and tends to side with underdogs to defend them from evil overlords. He was mysterious, and seemed to live in the swap, only helping those that came his way. Not really a superhero, but more of a monster. He was featured in a straight-to-video feature film in 2005.

The Swamp Thing has a similar origin (indeed they two “things” had a few common writers: a brilliant scientist, working on an experimental chemical, turns himself into a giant swamp monster by accident. He was originally an outright beast who would stalk and kill any people that came near. He wasn’t so much a shambling mound, as a strong man covered in weeds. As the comics progressed, he quietly became benevolent like the Man Thing, until he was more of a hero. The comics were more popular than Man Thing’s, and he would go onto be in two feature films (in 1982, and in “Return of the Swamp Thing” in 1989). There was even a TV series and a cartoon show.

Which mound do you prefer?

 

 

Witney Seibold is a mound himself who rose from a swamp eons ago, and has assumed the shape of a man. He has taught himself to write and to talk about movies. You can see its output in the following places:

Three Cheers for Darkened Years!

The B-Movies Podcast

The Series Project

Free Film School

 

 

 

In many ways, comic books resemble soap operas. Think about it. Only soap operas really match the superhero canon in terms of their length, complex story structure, and oddball story choices when the moribund franchise becomes too stable. Soaps have evil twins, secret allegiance flips, secret plans, discreet marriages, love children, sexuality swaps, and mysterious resurrections. Comic books have pretty much all that as well, but with superpowers, brightly colored costumes, secret identities, and space aliens.

And, very occasionally, when they feel that their material has run dry, or the writers regret a certain canonical story that is currently inconveniencing them, they will completely reboot the universe, and start over from scratch. In soap operas, this can be achieved with a dream sequence. More than one soap opera has revealed that entire seasons’ worth of events have been dreams. In comic books, we have the ever so handy-dandy sci-fi saw of The Alternate Universe. Most every comics company has played the Alternate Universe trick on us more than once, revealing, in a parallel series of events, a munch of evil twins, dystopian futures, or some other such thing. Marvel comics seems to have done this the most (or at least with the most note), to the point where I, your humble author, have been able to (with some assistance from one William Bibbiani) come up with ten instances of Marvel Alternate Universes.

Some of these are universes that our central characters can interact with. Some are stand-alone retcons of previous events. Some are just writing exercises. But, man oh man, is Marvel ever rife with alternate versions of familiar events. Indeed, there are so many retcons now, one has to be careful what one considers to be canon. Which Peter Parker is the “real” one now? These are intense topics of scholarly geek debate.

Let’s step into our dimension-hopper, shall we? And take a look at ten versions of the Marvel universe (its original, main universe being Universe 616… of course).

 

Universe #1) The House of M

This was a comic series from 2005 wherein Brian Michael Bendis  tried to recast the universe of the X-Men in reverse. In the ordinary X-Men universe, superpowered mutants are the object of racism and mockery, leading to an ideological rift between pacifist mutants like Professor X, who would live in peace with humans, and antagonist mutants like Magneto, who would kill all the humans. In The House of M, however, Marvel posits that, back in the 1970s, Magneto was granted sovereignty over the island of Genosha following a wicked plot (concocted by Richard Nixon) to destroy all mutants. Magneto, being the antagonist that he is, arranged society from his island to where mutants are now controlling all the world’s governments, and humans are considered to be second-class citizens.

This universe was actually created as an alternate universe by the super psychic powers of Professor X and The Scarlet Witch, in an attempt to essentially create world peace. The experiment blew up in their faces. This storyline is not at all loved by Marvel fans, and there is still some debate as to whether or not it is a canonical aside, or just something to be swept under the rug. Like all comic stories, it sounds neat in description, but was probably rife with writing problems.

 

Universe #2) MC2

In the early ’00s, Marvel took several of its more popular titles, and posited what would happen in them in, say, 20 years’ time. Writer Tom DeFalco conceived of the titles in the Marvel Comics 2 line, and included some of the children of characters, while positing on the fate of some of the others. MC2 was wildly unpopular, only spawning one character that would catch on: Spider-Girl, the teenage daughter of Peter Parker, having inherited his spider powers, and using his clone saga-era costume.

Other children included J2, the wise-cracking, flannel-wearing son the the Juggernaut, and Wild Thing, the daughter of Wolverine and Elektra. There was also a Fantastic Five, which featured Reed Richards as a brain in a jar, and A-Next, a new version of The Avengers. None of these titles lasted more than 12 issues. I, for one, at least appreciate what MC2 was trying to do, taking a look at a new, young generation, now that the older heroes were mysterious not aging out (how old is Spider-Man these days?). I actually have all the issues of J2, as it’s weirdly funny, and also a strange object lesson in what Alternate Universe thinking can do to your company.

 

Universe 3) 1602

Not so much an alternate universe as a writing exercise by Neil Gaiman, Marvel 1602 was a repurposing of Marvel’s heroes into Elizabethan England. That’s right, fighting next to Shakespeare and Queen Elizabeth I are Spider-Man, Captain America, the Fantastic Four and all the rest.

To answer your immediate question: No, they don’t wear their costumes, and no, they weren’t thrown back in time. These are Renaissance versions our heroes. Peter Parker was now a French resistance fighter called Paquer. Captain America was an import from The New World. The Fantastic Four were struck by lightning while at sea (aboard the SS Fantastic), etc. Elizabeth herself is concerned with the fate of the heroes, and is looking to control what’s going on. This comic seems like the ultimate marriage of geek interests. It has the usual heroes, it has Ren-Faire costumes, it has the old language, and it was all written by geek hero Neil Gaiman. It’s an odd way of looking at things, but it’s still a fun read.

 

Universe #4) Marvel Zombies

I think I’ve finally figured out the zombie craze. For a while, I was baffled as to how zombies escaped Halloween to become a dominant force in popular culture, but I have a theory: Zombie fulfill a popular end-of-the-world fantasy. If a zombie outbreak ever occurs, well, not only will you still have free access to all the stuff you’ve wanted (you can pillage and loot once the cities have been abandoned), but you’ll get in no trouble for doing it. The rules are all gone, and you are now in a position to become Lord of the Wasteland. What’s more, if you have ever had violent murder fantasies (yeep), now you can chainsaw people to your heart’s content, and it will be considered a service.

Marvel, not one to ignore trends, once started up a version of their universe wherein all the superheroes have become rotting, flesh-eating brainless zombies. The Marvel Zombie universe originated during Mark Millar’s opening run on Ultimate Fantastic 4, in which the Reeds from both universes met through a dimensional doorway. But it was a plot designed by the Zombie Universe Reed (un-zombied and under pressure) to find a new universe for the zombies to break into. So the Marvel Zombie universe started as a spin off from the Ultimate universe. Mildly confusing, right? There was a backstory as to how a zombie virus got spread and how SHIELD was attempting to cure the virus, and how The Silver Surfer aided them, but c’mon, we all know what’s really involved here: We wanted to see a bloody, fleshy superpowered zombie battle royale. Here’s my theory: If zombies are mindless flesh-eaters, couldn’t you dress them in anything? A Captain America zombie is just a neat image. The story needed more brains. Braaains. BRRAAAAAIINNS!

 

Universe #5) Marvel Noir

Some of the Marvel heroes are harder-edge than the others. The Fantastic Four have weird powers, a sitcom dynamic, and will likely not be having regular battles with demons. Aliens are more their bag. But heroes like The Punisher, who is essentially a psychopath with a bunch of guns and a hellbent focus on justice, may be facing his inner demons on a more regular basis. These darker heroes were granted their own alternate past in Marvel Noir, which is, as the name implies, a film noir version of Marvel comics. Rather than having colorful and noisy battles with bad guys, these heroes were quiet, smoky detectives who had to deal with a more violent version of the world.

I imagine this was conceived in the wake of the 2005 film “Sin City,” which crossed old noir conceits with a super-steroidal version of the noir universe, complete with extra-depraved characters, super-sexist men, and almost immortal thugs. Marvel Noir is likely not as hard-edge as all that, but is trying to play up the edginess of some of their characters. I suppose Daredevil always had a bit of darkness about him. Let’s put him in a fedora and long coat, and have him smoke incessantly. Sounds cool to me.

 

Universe #6) Avataars

Do you remember this? Me neither. I only learned about the Avataars universe from an accidental discovery at a comic book store quarter sale. It was, evidently, a three-issue miniseries that ran back in 2000, which recast the Marvel heroes as medieval knights of the 14^th century. It was supposed to run only 12 issues, and didn’t even make it that far. I guess seeing a guy in Captain America-looking armor (complete with shield) riding a horse into a medieval battle was a geek mashup the world wasn’t yet prepared to deal with.

I did like the conceit. The Gods of the universe want to create an “experimental” world wherein they can toy with the people and see how alternate scenarios would play out. It essentially recasts God as the ultimate writer of fanfic. One of the Creators of the Universe, it turns out, is a teenage comics fan who – get this – thinks he is dreaming when he’s actually conspiring with real gods. He is the one who decides that this new medieval universe needs superheroes. Yup. Gods and fanfic writers. Go figure.

 

Universe #7) The Age of Apocalypse

I kind of followed this one back in the day. It was an X-Men crossover series that ran in 1995 and 1996, which sent a character named Legion back in time to kill Magneto (but accidentally killed Professor X instead). In the wake of his death, the evil mutant Apocalypse rose to dominance on the planet, and the world was essentially enslaved under martial law. All our heroes are still born on time, but now they’re badass versions of themselves, fighting in a post- (or I suppose during-) Apocalypse landscape. Wolverine is missing a hand. Nightcrawler is a pirate of sorts. Angel too. Other non-mutant characters like The Hulk and the Fantastic Four are fighting an underground resistance.

I liked this universe at the time, and was already following Generation X, so it was cool to see them repurposed as Generation Next. I wonder how the writers of individual titles feel when they receive a company-wide crossover decree like this. Do they like it, or are they put off? In additon to Generation Next, we had off-sounding titles like X-Calibre, Factor X, Gambit and the X-Ternals, and, the only one to take off on its own after the storyline finished, X-Man. X-Man was another version of Cable. X-Man was so popular, in fact, it pretty much just replaced “Cable” altogether.

The Age of Apocalypse Beast has been a major player in the current X-Books for a few years now and recently the survivors from Age of Apocalypse have played larger roles in the most recent X-Force Archangel storyline.

 

Universe #8) 2099

Another look into the future, the world of 2099 took place in, well, AD 2099 with new characters now living down the diluted legacies of familiar Marvel characters. The stories were started in 1992, and lasted longer than such an experiment usually does. The world is a typical sci-fi dystopian universe, which was essentially just a backdrop to some rebooted superhero antics. Spider-Man was, as usual, the first to be reimagined, while Dr. Doom (perhaps) became a time-traveler, The Punisher was restarted, and a new character named Ravage was introduced.

More titles were introduced into the universe (I actually regularly read X-Men 2099), and the idea actually ran for four full years before they started to run out of ideas. Dr. Doom was eventually revealed to be the same Dr. Doom as in 1992. The present-day Fantastic Four was brought into the future, and mess-making crossovers became common. I think crossover events, however cool they may be to read, are often a death-knell for ideas. Well, unless it’s The Infinity Gauntlet. That one was just cool.

 

Universe #9) Ultimate Marvel

There’s been a lot of hubbub surround the recent reboot of the DC universe, and I’m surprised so few people are mentioning the similar ploy that Marvel did back in 2000. Ultimate Marvel is essentially a way of cutting free of all the confusing backstories we’ve already seen in Marvel, and starting all over. Peter Parker is now a teenager again, and we can start at the beginning. For the writers, this seems like a sigh of relief. Marvel wisely didn’t not cancel its other titles, just trying to offer up something different. I’m convinced this alternate universe was a response to the impending success of the disappointing “Spider-Man” feature film, which does, after all, take place in the present.

In order to have their cake and eat it too, Marvel started referring to the Ultimate universe as Earth-1610, effectively allowing for a grand map of Marvel universes, that can or cannot intersect, and all of which can be equally canonical. Is it me, or, in inventing something that was intended to clean things up storywise, did Marvel just invent something even more convoluted than anything they had made in the past? Well, now the damage is done. Whatever alternate versions you want can be included, and they’ll live comfortably in an easily-mapped alternate universe. This is either clever or devastating, depending on your point of view.

 

Universe #10) Earth X

The Earth X universe takes place in the further future, perhaps about 50 or 60 years, when a cataclysmic event has given everyone on Earth superpowers. That’s a great approach. There are literally thousands of superheroes in the world. Why not just push that concept to its natural extreme? What happens to Captain America when the entire planet is entrenched in a vast gang war for superpowered dominance? Earth X also envisions that this everyone-is-a-superhero mentality to be tantamount to the end of the world. Maybe the writer was trying to make a comment on the sheer volume of characters in the Marvel universe.

There is also an elaborate and somewhat strained attempt to reconcile all the events of all Marvel comics to date. Really. All of them. All the weird decisions made in the past are brought together under the aegis of Earth X. All the weird behavior of The Sub-Mariner are explained. All of Thor’s silly rigamarole is put into play. And, it’s even explained, that the earth itself, and the superheroes on it, may actually be a huge plot by gigantic amoral cosmic beings who wish to use the planet to breed. Talk about summing everything up. It seems to me, after the events of Earth X, Marvel shouldn’t be able to use the Alternate Universe ever anymore (but they did in Universe X and Paradise X).

 

Witney Seibold left his home universe for this one years ago. His life as a spy and a killer is behind him. He now writes movie reviews for a living, and works in a movie theater. His further material is in the usual places. 

 

As I have said in in previous articles I’ve written, I have seen hundreds, if not thousands, of simulated deaths in my life. I’ve seen drownings, suicides, countless shootings and stabbings. I’ve seen Patrick Swayze tear a guy’s throat out with his bare hands. I’ve seen people fall from high places. I’ve seen people get fed into giant spinning blades. I’ve seen heads explode. I’ve seen monsters swallow people whole. I’ve seen limbs get torn off. Have you ever noticed that when people lose a limb in cartoons, their innards always look like a ham? My point is: There are some weird, weird ways to die in movies.

But no death is weirder to me than melting. From what I know from my biology classes is that human flesh doesn’t melt. You can apply heat to them, but a person will cook like a steak, not dribble away like a candle. You can dump acid on someone, but they’ll lose their skin, not, technically, become a liquid. And yet melting is often tapped in films as a form of death, usually as a way to do in the bad guy. Melting is a dramatic – if not totally implausible – way to depict death, as it’s going to be visually striking, and it’s going to be particularly painful. It also leaves a wonderful gooey residue behind; no one’s going to evaporate immediately. We have to wonder over the puddle they have become.

So, in the interest of exploring yet another wonky aspect of film in my twisted, addled mind, I have come up with yet another wacky list for Geekscape. Read in wonderment, and perhaps I can make your own brain melt a little bit.

 

10) Richard Adams

in “Howling IV: The Original Nightmare” (1988)

 

This melting didn’t result in the character’s death, but was actually one of the more creative werewolf transformations I’ve seen. Michael T. Weiss from “The Pretender” plays the douchey, mullet-sporing boyfriend of our poor beleaguered heroine (Romy Windor) in the fourth “Howling” movie. As in the first “Howling”, the supporting boyfriend ends up getting seduced by a local hottie, and, as a result, becomes a werewolf. He, of course, goes through some of the usual signs that he might be supernatural: He heals really quickly, for one. He also becomes even more douchey. I guess you’re not allowed to be a polite werewolf. And, of course, on the next full moon, he turns all wolfy.

But Richard doesn’t just grow sideburns, get orange eyes and grow fangs, as most movie werewolves do. He actually melts. In a long, effects-heavy and gloriously disgusting scene, Richard begins to melt. The flesh runs down his face, his eye sockets droop, and channels of what looks like banana pudding pours down his face. His limbs drop off. His skeleton is eventually exposed, and that too melts. Once he’s been totally liquified, a goop-covered werewolf emerges from the puddle. This is a neat and original way to show a werewolf transformation, and is certainly the most notable thing in an otherwise unremarkable straight-to-video horror sequel from the ’80s.

 

9) Steve West

in “The Incredible Melting Man” (1977)

This one may be well-known to fans of “Mystery Science Theater 3000.” “The Incredible Melting Man” is a weird, weird and pretty damn bad movie about an astronaut, played by Alex Rebar, who goes into space, is infected by some alien cooties, and returns to Earth as a monster who wants to kill. What kind of monster? Sadly, not a hot topless energy vampire like in “Lifeforce,” but as a walking, melting pile of goop.

The melting effects aren’t really all that impressive, as it looks like a guy wearing a suit made of algae, coated in maple syrup. Also, how long can a man melt before he’s entirely melted away? Not very long is my guess. So, yeah, even the premise is stupid. But the premise actually becomes so implausible after a while, the melting man takes on a camp appeal, and becomes like a particularly gooey zombie who wants to drown you in his liquefying bodily fluids. I don’t want to drown in pus. It’s on the top-ten list of ways I don’t want to die.

Hm… That list may make its way to Geekscape eventually.

 

8) (TIE) The bums who drink Viper rum & the virus victims

in “Street Trash” (1987) and “Body Melt” (1993)

 

These two films also made it onto the Geekscape list of The Most Disgusting Films Ever Made, notably for their melting sequences. Something about goop, I suppose. The gooey, viscous mucous that coats monsters makes them more scary and more disgusting. Would the creatures in “Aliens” have been as scary or monstrous if they were always dry? No. They had to sweat to be scary. So when a person transforms into glop, it’s particularly stomach-churning. Few films had melting effects as good as Philip Brophy’s 1993 opus “Body Melt” and J. Michael Muro’s 1987 gross-out “Street Trash.”

In “Body Melt,” a virus is let loose into the populace of Australia, and the people who are unlucky enough to contract if find that their body parts comically swell, bits of them explode, and their entire bodies are reduced to puddles of so much melted ice cream. The tongue scene is pretty notorious, and, yes, there’s a scene where a guy’s penis grows and explodes. The plot makes little sense (why, for instance, is there a subplot about living with inbred hicks who eat kangaroo organs?), but the film was clearly mad as a set piece for melting effects. Hence the title.

 

“Street Trash” is just as shameless in its need to show off melting effects, but these melting scenes are even meltier, if that makes any sense. Colorful glop splays from homeless people as if they’re morphing into jam. They cough up opaque yellow liquid, which resembles nothing produced by the human body. What makes them melt? A diseased, or perhaps cursed, case of booze found in the wall of a liquor store. I’m tempted to call that a comment on how booze is playing a large role in the stunted potential of the homeless community, but I don’t think the director had that much on his mind. He just wanted the geek show. Watching a man turn into a purple smear in the inside of a toilet is a sight you won’t be able to un-see.

 

7) Judge Doom

in “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” (1988)

I don’t think I’m giving too much away with this, as we’ve all seen “Roger Rabbit,” right? Well if you haven’t, go watch it right now (seriously, get off the computer and find the film), and then return to this spoiler. Back? Good. Judge Doom (Christopher Lloyd) is the villainous judge who would destroy all the beloved cartoon characters living in an L.A. slum in order to make room for a freeway. It’s revealed late in the film that he is also a cartoon himself who has lost his mind, and is hellbent on genocide and murder. That’s one seriously disturbed Toon.

Judge Doom had invented something that can kill cartoons during the course of the film. Cartoons, you see, can fall from cliffs, and stand up, dazed, and still alive. Judge Doom mixed together turpentine, acetate and benzine to create something called The Dip, which essentially melts cartoons back into ink. Yipe. By the film’s end, he gets his, though, as our heroes manage to coat him in a vat of the stuff, and he melts right inside the rubber human suit we was wearing. He melts into oblivion, shrieking all the while. A bad ending to a bad Toon.

 

6) Emil M. Antonowsky

in “RoboCop” (1987)

 

I perhaps saw this film at too early an age (as did you), and was appalled and terrified by the extreme violence (that, of course, didn’t stop me from watching it over and over again). We see a guy get his hand blown off right in front of us. We see bullets rip a man’s torso open. We see RoboCop punch a spike into a guy’s neck. Yeah, the mayhem tally is way high from this fun and rather witty 1987 action satire.

The lead bad guy had a crony in the film named Emil M. Antonowsky (Paul McCrane from “Fame”) who came about to one of the most memorable deaths in a film full of them. This guy, in a shootout at a nuclear power plant, way accidentally coated in a huge splash of green toxic waste. If there’s anything we’ve learned about toxic waste from movies, it’s that it mutates you, only sometimes for the better. Emil got it for the worse, as he merges as a lumpen, flesh encrusted mass of awfulness, still alive, and howling in pain. His skin didn’t melt off, but it did bulge and droop. But then he’s hit by a car, and he doesn’t merely get knocked over, he bursts like a waterballoon. Ack! The toxic waste, I’m guessing, was liquefying him on the inside. That guy would have melted if the car didn’t squish the goop out of him first. Awesome melting scene.

 

5) Frosty the Snowman

from the 1950 Gene Autry song

 

It’s Christmastime, and surely you’ve heard some horrible cover of this song already, in some shop or on the radio. Everyone knows this song. It’s one of those songs they sing to you in school when you’re little. It’s a charming magical song about an ordinary snowman who comes to life thanks to the spell in a magical hat. Frosty dances and sings and plays with the local children, before “going on his way,” alluding, of course, to his inevitable melting. Snowmen, after all, don'[t make it so well in the spring.

It didn’t take a very sophisticated kid to see the dark side of this tale. Frosty is a magical ice nymph whose life must, necessarily, be ephemeral. By coming to life, his death is now imminent (which you could, if you were a depressive Goth type, use as a Plath-like metaphor for all life). It was sad to see your favorite ice monster die horribly. He promises to be back, though. There are plenty of horror parallels that have been drawn from that promise. Here’s a lighthearted, kind of corny 1950s folk hit with tinges of fear throughout. Thanks Gene. You scared generations of kids.

 

4) The T-1000

from “Terminator 2” (1991)

 

This killer robot from the future is one of the only characters on this list who can melt, but also resolidify. James Camera, back in the early 1990s, used the then-nascent CGI technologies to create one of the mot visually striking and memorable villains in film history by making a super robot that could turn into liquid metal at will, and reform in any solid shape. Damn, that’s awesome. The effects that were used to achieve this still look amazing today, and are still wicked cool. There’s a scene where the T-1000 disguises itself as a floor panel, and then sort of melts in reverse to stand up and attack someone from behind. Meltiness is turned on its ear, and becomes a sort of superpower.

He also melts as a weakness. Since our heroes find that bullets, freezing, explosives and fires don’t really harm a being made of liquid metal, they must, ultimately, melt him even more in a vat of molten steel. This is double melting for your money. A liquid being turned into liquid. It boggles the mind.

 

3) The Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man

in “Ghostbusters” (1984)

 

Think of the most harmless thing you can. Mr. Stay-Puft, right? The innocuous marshmallow mascot from the package. How can such a thing be your destructor? Well, if an evil demon is imploring that you choose the mode of your death, and you accidentally think of a marshmallow man, well, that man is going to be hyundreds of feet tall. All made of magical living marshmallow. I wonder if enough people leaped on him and started chewing away, if they’d eventually eat the entire being. Or if he’d eventually stop moving at some point. These are the important questions that keep me up at night.

Eventually our resolute ghostbusting heroes use their nuclear-powered proton packs (and a resulting supernatural explosion) to melt the marshmallow man, creating a vast white flood of goopy candy covering New York City. Striking, gross, and probably tasty, this is melting on a massive scale. How often to villains melt? Only sometimes. But how often have they also flooded the immediate area? Rarely. Well, maybe that one time in “X-Men,” when Bruce Davison turned into water.

 

2) Major Arnold Toht

in “Raiders of the Lost Ark”

 

Yeah, so this happened:

 

1) The Wicked Witch of the West

in “The Wizard of Oz” (1939)

 

The gold standard for all meltings has got to be the time Margaret Hamilton, playing the green-skinned Wicked Witch of the West in “The Wizard of Oz” oozed into a puddle. This scene in particularly tragic, as we get to hear her screaming and complaining as he’s facing her inevitable mortality. I’m going. Going. Hearing he final whimpering cries as she sinks into the floor made me horrified, and actually had me a little sad for the woman. It also was a disturbing scene which children of several generations have seen time and again. John Waters has said that the scene was a defining moment of his childhood, and one of the first things that brought him to movies to begin with. I can see why.

And what made the Witch melt? Nothing so scary as a bucket of water. A splash on the face, and she melts like sugar. I’m guessing that a being who would melt next to water would be wiser than to have random buckets of the stuff laying around. But never mind. Dorothy douses her, and down she goes. It’s like when people fill squirtguns with holy water to spray vampires; there’s something a bit too practical about it. But melt she must. I suppose the filmmakers thought it would be a good way to kill the villain without any real violence. It’s still strange and a might scary.

Everyone has seen it, and everyone loves it.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a semi-fluid amorphous mass living in Los Angeles. The mass encourages you to visit the following sites for more of its insightful reviews. It takes part in:

Three Cheers for Darkened Years.

CraveOnline’s Free Film School.

The Series Project.

CraveOnline’s B-Movies Podcast.

CraveOnline’s The Trailer Hitch.

I was a kid in the 1980s and a teenager in the 1990s, so I recall the glory days of MTV, when they would actually play music, and stay on the cutting edge of rock. And, even though I didn’t have cable TV, and I often scoffed at the self-indulgent broodiness of grunge rock, I still appreciated that bands had a visual outlet for their songs. As I aged, and MTV started to jettison their actual music videos in favor of crap reality TV shows, I started to realize what a vital and gorgeous medium the music video was. Sweet, scary, creative abstract short films to go with the song. Simple. Brilliant.

The concept of a performance film goes all the way back to the early days of sound in cinema (I’ve seen Cab Calloway music videos), and, to a degree, they still persist today, albeit in online venues. I often wish that music videos would recapture the cache they once had, and bands would release records and videos all at once, but I know the music industry has mutated a bit over the last few years to make room for the now-dominant video game market.

Since I didn’t have cable as a kid, my discovery of some of the great music videos has been through online venues, and, thanks to the vast music knowledge of my wife, I have now been exposed to some of them. I offer, by way of remembering and as an introduction, the 20 following music videos. I know there are hundreds of greats, and I haven’t necessarily seen all the best I possibly could, so this article will also serve as an opening to a conversation about the best; I wholeheartedly encourage you to share some of your favorites as well. I should be seeing them too, right?

 

“Sledge Hammer”

by: Peter Gabriel

directed by: Stephen R. Johnson

Often called the greatest music video of all time. And for good reason.

 

“Losing My Religion”

by: R.E.M.

directed by: Tarsem

Before he was making gorgeous and weird feature films, Tarsem made equally groundbreaking music videos, including this one for R.E.M.

 

“Take on Me”

by: a-ha

directed by: Steve Barron

Inspired by comics, featuring some geat animation, and, you must admit it to yourself, a dancey earworm of epic proportions.

 

“Close (To the Edit)”

by: Art of Noise

directed by: Zbigniew Rybczyński

This largely unknown New Wave band smash up a bunch of stuff. A little girl stands in for the lead singer. This was one of the first huge music video hits that largely launched MTV. It is great. It is historical.

 

“Frontier Psychiatrist“

by: The Avalanches

directed by: Tom Kuntz and Mike Maguire

Watch, and be converted. That boy needs therapy.

 

“Sabotage“

by: The Beastie Boys

directed by: Spike Jonze

Loud, pumping, awesome. And re-imagined as a cheap ’70s cop show.

 

“The Damned“

by: The Plasmatics

directed by: Rod Swenson

If the sight of Wendy O. Williams driving a bus through a wall of TVs doesn’t make your heart explode out of your chest, then you’re not human. Wendy was one of the awesomest human beings to have ever lived. She could have eaten Chuck Norris with her vagina. This is awoman who cahinsawed cars regularly on stage.

 

“Money for Nothing“

by: Dire Straits

directed by: Steve Barron

Reportedly based on a conversation overheard at a bustop, this is a song I always find myself rocking out to. It was one of the earlier examples of computer animation.

 

“Pork and Beans“

by: Weezer

directed by: Mathew Cullen

 Weezer has made some excellent vidoes in their day (“Buddy Holly” features them singing with the cast of “Happy Days,” and “Keep Fishin’” impeccably includes The Muppets.), but their most significant is probably their “Pork and Beans,” which openly acknowledges the movement of music videos online by featuring dozens of recent YouTube videos. It’s turning the internet in on itself.

 

“Here it Goes Again“

by: OK Go

directed by: Trish Sie

 I admire videos with dancing, and I admire videos where the band does their own dancing. OK Go has an impeccably rehearses and orchestrated dance number, in a single static take, on a set of treadmills.

 

“One“

by: Metallica

directed by: Bill Pop and Michael Salomon

 A dark, disturbing song about wartime violence, the music video is long, hurtful, and contains footage from “Johnny Got His Gun,” one of the most damning antiwar stories of all.

 

“California“

by: Wax

directed by: Spike Jonze

 Beavis: “Butt-Head. I’m only gonna tell you this once. If you touch that remote, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  

“Ana Ng“

by: They Might Be Giants

directed by: Adam Bernstein

 Reportedly, this was the first music video that had not actual lip-sync to the song. A thrilling song with fun, strange poetic lyrics, and best capturing the feeling of the band.

 

“Bastards of Young“

by: The Replacements

directed by: Ted Leo

Subverting the ideas of the music video, The Replacements decided to let the music to speak largely for itself but showing us nothing more than a stereo.

 

“Just“

by: Radiohead

directed by: Jamie Thraves

They groove in an apartment above, while a man below lays down on the sidewalk and refuses to rise. Why won’t he get up?

 

 “Weapon of Choice”

by: Fatboy Slim

directed by: Spike Jonze 

No words. Just watch Christopher Walken dancing alone in the Los Angeles Marriott.

“Windowlicker“

by: Aphex Twin

directed by: Chris Cunningham

 A pair of gangstas talk trash, and try to pick up so hos. They swear a lot. They chat up some ladies, but are interrupted by the superlong limousine of Aphex Twin, who charms the ladies with nothing but his creepy, creepy smile. Then the women turn into Aphex Twin. Eek. Hilarious and fucking terrifying.

 

“Rock DJ“

by: Robbie Williams

directed by: Vaughan Arnell

Robbie Willaims, surrounded by women, trying to get the attentuion of the hot DJ. The women, inexplicably, ignore him (his is, after all, sex on legs). He ends up stripping. Nothing. Then he gets all the way nekkid. Still nothing. Then, in a bout of legitimate nightmare fuel, he strips his skin, then his muscles. Only then, do the ladies take notice.

 

“State of Shock“

by: Harvey Leeds

directed by: Harvey Leeds

The version of Michael Jackson’s “State of Shock” by a producer who couldn’t afford Michael, the music, any actual cameras, dancers, or instruments. The funniest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

 

“Thriller”

by: Michael Jackson

directed by: John Landis 

A classic. Hands down.

 

So, I got back from New York recently, and I was able to (thanks to a stroke of luck) get in to see Julie Taymor’s new musical: “Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark” for relatively cheap. I am now here, dazed, able to offer up to my loyal readers, you, a run-down of the experience. Strap in tight, though, ‘cuz things are about to get nutty…

For those of you who haven’t yet heard of this infamous Spider-Man musical, let me give you the rundown. Yes, it does exist. It opened on Broadway last year, and has, miraculously, stayed running. Julie Taymor, the director of films like “Titus” and “Across the Universe,” and the brilliant theater impresario behind Beckett plays, grand operas, and the stage version of “The Lion King,” was approached by Marvel studios to adapt Spider-Man for the stage. I mean, heck, the superhero boom was in full swing a few years back. Why not make a high-profile, big-budget musical? Taymor’s vision of Spider-Man was one of a classical bent. She kept him in his costume, but felt that the connection to spiders should be tied in with Arache, the character from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. She wrote in a Greek chorus to narrate the action, but in her case it was a geek chorus of nerdy guys. The Green Goblin was in it, but his origins differed from any other Spider-Man version we’ve seen. Even the Sinister Six appeared in the second act. Bono and The Edge from U2 were hired to write songs. 

Taymor’s vision also included some of the most complicated stuntwork the stage has ever seen. Her complicated system of pullies and wires would have Spider-Man and the Green Goblin fighting in midair above the audience. Spider-Man would swing up to the balcony and back down again. The system was so complicated, however, that several of the show’s stuntmen would become seriously injured during the rehearsal process. One actor was accidentally left unhooked to his rig, causing him to jump unfettered into the orchestra pit. He was in a coma for days, and required surgery. When previews began, critics started panning the show for being too weird, the songs for being bland, and the entire concept of a Spider-Man musical too dumb to carry any weight. Even the weird subtitle “Turn Off the Dark” didn’t make any sense. Taymor was eventually fired from the production, and a new director was hired to rewrite and re-tinker the show. The show ended up costing about $75 million, the most expensive show in Broadway history. That means it will have to sell out every show for a solid two years in order to break even.

I have now seen this notorious show, and, to report to the geeks in the trenches, I will offer the following review.

For those familiar with Julie Taymor, you’ll know her bent for the surreal, and for the ancient. Her productions are partly inspired by ancient Greek theater traditions, and her own sense of bizarre modern art. Sometimes it can work: her stage production (what I’ve seen) of “The Tempest” is first rate, and I still feel her “Titus” is one of the best Shakespeare films ever made. Even when her films or shows don’t have a lot of emotional impact (her film version of “The Tempest” was flat and bland), her design is always gorgeous and her directorial choices are always fascinating. So “Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark” looks fascinating. Her sets bend and unfold in a weird way, forcing perspective, and keeping the visuals off-balance. She essentially tried to make an enormous set look like the forced-perspective drawing on a comic book page. She even added some printed dot-shading and shadows to people’s costumes, so they looked a bit more like comic book drawings. The bad guys’ costumes involved either some twisted masks, or gigantic inflatable prosthetics. Her entire idea was to mythologize Spider-Man into a dreamlike pop-culture explosion of surreal weirdness.

I think I kind of appreciate this approach. Rather than rehashing the Spider-Man mythology for the die-hard geeks, and merely transposing the object of their superhero affection into a new medium (which is what the lesser of the superhero films do), she tried to make the idea of a superhero make sense to her. She had no interest in the teenage-boy obsession with superheroes, and wanted to focus more on the more classical idea of the peerless god-like hero of legend. She wants to explore classical theatrical themes using modern-day modern art images. It’s like making Spider-Man more abstract. Her idea to turn Arachne (T.V. Carpio) into a character within the play may seem dumb to the comic book fan, but I can see where that need comes from. In Taymor’s original version, the spider that bit Peter Parker was actually Arachne reincarnated, and turned into something of a villain; an evil inside spider force that he must overcome.

But then the story was re-worked, and the newly re-worked story more closely resembles the tepid 2002 “Spider-Man” feature film. Spider-Man is no longer a boy coping with inner spider-like demons, but is following the story we all know: Nerd. Bitten by superspider. Gets superpowers. Loses uncle. Gains righteousness. Punches psychotics. Tries to get the girl. In this musical, the entire musical number where Peter (Reeve Carney) discovers he has superpowers is the first part of a montage that also includes the wrestling match, the death of Uncle Ben (offstage), and the decision to become Spider-Man. It’s called “Boucing Off the Walls,” and, while lively, feels rushed. The character from the film, Bonesaw McGraw makes an appearance in the show, but as a gigantic balloon that Peter wrestles to comic effect. It’s then immediately followed by the death of Uncle Ben. All rushed. All rushed. Oh yeah, Mary Jane is in it too (played by Jennifer Damiano), but she’s a prize to be won, and actually starts dating Peter in Act I. No ambiguity there.

Then there’s The Green Goblin. Patrick Page has been getting a lot of acclaim for his energetic and villainous performance, but the night I went, we had his understudy Jeb Brown who, lucky for him, made his Broadway debut that night. The Green Goblin is a geneticist who combines his body with animal DNA (or something) to gain powers, but who loses his wife in the process. Now, half mad and coated with weird Goblin makeup, he decides to capture his old scientist associates, and also make them into monsters by splicing their DNA with animals. There’s Kraven the Hunter (part lion), The Lizard (part lizard), Swarm (part bees), Electro (part, uh, electricity), Carnage (part, uh, blood), and a new character Swiss Miss (who is, uh, part knife). Again, the costumes are wonderful to behold, but I know a lot of you are currently shaking in your chairs, sputtering “But… THAT’S not what Kraven is!” Yes. There are a lot of liberties taken.

The music is actually kind of forgettable. Bono and The Edge may have a strength for rock ballads, but they clearly don’t really know how to write a musical. The songs have no logical ebb or flow, and don’t seem designed to showcase the talent of a singer on stage. It’s like an odd, forgettable rock opera that only sounds vaguely like U2. The songs I liked best were the Green Goblin’s song “A Freak Like Me,” and the “Turn Off the Dark” ballad that Peter sings with Arachne. Oh yes, Arachne is still in the show, but she’s been transformed into a kind of spiritual partner for Peter to pray to. The show’s big show-stopper, “Rise Above” is fine, I suppose, but sounds better with a chorus; I’ve heard Bono sing it, and it sounds perfectly dull.

The stunts are still amazing, and the flying actors really are impressive to watch. It may have injured many, but the wirework, when it works, it a lot of fun. The sets are still gorgeous, even though the gigantic cardboard cutout of Spider-Man catching a falling baby is enough to make anyone snicker.

The show entirely is an off-putting mash-up of three elements. 1) The classical surreal nightmare that Julie Taymor invented, 2) The bland rock opera, and 3) The good-looking and crass Universal stunt spectacular. It doesn’t really feel like a Broadway show. It feels like a theme park attraction at this point. As a show, it fails on a spectacular level. But, looking around the theater, I found that the bulk of the audience wasn’t the theater-loving, well-dressed New York Broadway crowd, but a mixture of teenagers from neighboring states who don’t go to shows often. I guess, for them, this was a unique theatrical experience.

 

And it was for me too. No other show will ever be like “Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark.” It’s rare to see such great ambition staged with such earnestness, and flop about so wildly. I just wish I could have seen Taymor’s unchanged version. I bet it was crazy to the point of being spectacularly bad, and, hence, hugely entertaining. As it was, even though I was kind of expecting it to be bad, I left disappointed. 

Black Friday is coming up, reminding you that you haven’t done any Christmas shopping, and that you NEED to run out during the busiest shopping day of the year, buy up poorly-thought-out gifts for friends and relatives, and if you don’t, you’ll be a pariah for the rest of your life, dejected from the family, and forced to live in shame and abject poverty in the streets of Calcutta. I don’t know why you’re in Calcutta, but there you are. If you don’t go shopping on Black Friday, brave the horrible traffic, brave the horrible lines, and risk getting trampled to death by greedy consumers, you will be officially considered an empty shell of a person, with no conceivable heart. Also… you’re a cheap bastard.

Okay, I hate the hype surrounding Black Friday as well. The term “Black Friday,” was once just whispered conjecture that postulated the Friday after Thanksgiving was the busiest shopping day of the year. In recent years, however, retailers have co-opted the phrase, and, I guess to exacerbate the issue, have started offering huge markdowns on just that day. To toy with the chaos, the anarchist in me is always tempted to go down to one of the busier retailers (say Best Buy) and shout things like “My God! They’ve run out! Grab what you can!!” and just watch the fighting begin. Another fun trick: Ride your bike or bus to the local mall, and then wander around the mall’s parking structure on foot jingling your keys, looking for your car. You get ten points for every car you can get to follow you.

And, of course, we’re all looking for the hot toy item that year. I’ve never really understood the idea of a “hot toy.” If Tickle Me Elmo is fun at Christmas, it’d be fun at other times of the year. I guess since little kids know that gift-receiving is in the pipeline, toy manufacturers have tapped right into that dynamic, and wait until December to unleash toy items, making for inflated glut, desperate need, and the ultimate feeling of failure and resentment. Happy Christmas, kids. Hope your parents love you enough.

In celebration of Black Friday, I’ve gone through my mental rolodex – and did some cursory internet research – and thought up the following controversial toys. These are all real toys, and many of them can still be found used in online auctions. Some of them are still on the market. Some of them were outright recalled because of their controversy. But all of them were considered good ideas at the time, and were actually given to real children. Let’s recoil in horror, shall we?

 

Archie Bunker’s Grandson

Largely unseen by geeks of this generation, but well-known throughout the general pop-culture consciousness, “All in the Family” is considered to be one of the best sitcoms of all time. I have seen a few episodes, and find the show to be somewhat grating. The central gag is that the show’s lead character, Archie Bunker (Carroll O’Connor), a retired veteran, was cantankerous, sexist and racist. His racist attitudes were kidded over the course of the show, and he was ultimately made lovable. Eventually in the show, to soften up our leading man even more, he was given a grandson, Joey, which he could coo to.

To market the new character, in 1976 a toy company called Ideal Toys released a baby doll of Joey. The package had a photograph of Archie Bunker holding the baby. The toy didn’t look much different than most plastic baby doll toys, but it was controversial for one notable difference: It was the first mass-produced baby doll toy with actual genitals. That’s right. Little Joey had a penis. And while genitals are not unheard of in the doll world, most parents were used to seeing the vague contours of a neuter child on their children’s toys. The penis caused a minor stir.

 

Bebé Glotón

I just learned about this toy looking around online for items for this list. Evidently Berjuan, a toy manufacturer in Spain, has made a battery-operated baby doll that is designed to make sucking noises, and moves its face in a sucking fashion. It’s designed to be held against your breast so you can simulate breastfeeding. Even though it’s not officially available in America, it’s been causing a bit of an uprising in concerned parents who don’t want their kids to know about breastfeeding.

I’m very positive on breastfeeding. It’s perfectly natural and should be done by everyone; baby formulas are just not going to be as good for your infant. But the thought of breastfeeding little girls is a little strange, don’t you think? A little mechanical sucking robot that looks like it’s trying to chew its way through your child’s chest… well, that’s a horror movie waiting to happen. Childbirth squicks out a lot of adults, and teaching the details of sexual reproduction to kids is an iffy proposition. Maybe breastfeeding can wait until they have an infant sibling.

 

Happy Family Midge

And speaking of childbirth…

Mattel came out with this doll in 2002, and it’s actually still available, despite some small amount of outcry. Evidently, Barbie has a best friend named Midge who is perpetually in a very, very pregnant state. Midge comes with a maternity dress, and a full-on nursery playset. Accessories include extras baby clothes and extra maternity dresses. If you undress Midge (as so many little girls do with their Barbie dolls), you’ll find an infant bulging out of her stomach wall. You can yank the baby from her abdomen, and play with it as well.

Again, the miracle of childbirth, turned into a bizarro plastic science fiction nightmare by toy manufacturers. I understand that teaching your kids about childbirth is healthy, but when a toymaker tries to put together a realistic bleeding birth kit, they’ve crossed a line. Not all of life’s biological mysteries need to be turned into plastic playsets, Mattel.

 

Betsy Wetsy

One of the original controversial toys, and one of the first to make play of the more disgusting aspects of infant care, Betsy Wetsy hit stores as early as 1935 from Ideal Toys, the same company that put a penis on Archie Bunker’s grandson. Betsy Wetsy did exactly what it’s name implied: You could pour fluid into its mouth, then squeeze its abdomen, causing the fluid to squirt out of its crotch. It came with a diaper, so you could change it. I think it would be more fun to fill its mouth to capacity, lay it on the floor and wait for a friend or a pet to walk by. At the right moment, drive your heel into Betsy Wetsy’s abdomen, squirting your friend from across the room. It’s a baby doll AND a squirt gun!

I understand little boys and little girls are drawn to different things, but the contrast of boy toys and girl toys is a little gross, and reveals something chilling about our culture, and perhaps about our humanity. Little girls are given baby dolls, kitchen playsets, and other items that prepare them for domesticity. Little boys are given guns, army man action figures, and other toys that prepare them to be soldiers. As a feminist and a pacifist, I find both of these things kind of offensive.

 

Growing Up Skipper

Mattel put out this toy in 1976, and, from what I gather, it was quickly pulled from shelves. In order to teach little girls about puberty, Growing Up Skipper actually, well, grew up. Skipper, Baribie’s friend, came with two outfits, one for her “short” setting, and one for her “tall” setting. When you rotated her arm, she would grown up a little bit, and, here’s the kicker, she would even grow breasts. Yup, she actually got some boobs. I don’t think the toy came with training bras, but I don’t think they would have been out of place. I once heard that if you continued to rotate the arm, the breast mechanism would burst out through Skipper’s plastic skin, making her seem like a dejected pubescent Terminator. But these rumors were about as true as the real-life Hoverboards you heard about. Sorry, kids. There are no Hoverboards.

I don’t know why Skipper’s small growing breasts caused such an uproar when Barbie herself always has the most impressive rack. I often hear tales about how Barbie, were she a 6 foot tall woman, would be crushed by her own unrealistic body proportions. Barbie has been blamed for several generations’ unhealthy body issues, and instilling an unfortunate “dumb girl” mentality into little girls; remember the Teen Dream Barbie that spoke the line “Math is hard!” I think Growing Up Skipper was hated for putting Barbie’s unfair sexuality to the fore.

 

The Nimbus 2000

Released in 2001, The Nimbus 2000 was a tie-in toy for the film version of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. It was a plastic version of Harry’s famed, state-of-the-art flying broomstick. It was life-size, and was intended to be mounted, just like in the books and movies. To add some gimmicks to the toy, the British manufacturer added some buttons along the broomstick’s length which played various swooshing sound effects to simulate flying. And, in a truly bizarre decision, they decided to add a “rumble pack” option, making the broomstick vibrate when a switch was flipped.

A long, phallic object intended to be place up in between the legs with a vibrating option. Hm… Some little girls probably had their first sexual experiences thanks to this item, and there were even spotty reports (unconfirmed, of course) of teenage girls buying them up for their sexual properties. Eventually, parents caught wise to the naughtiness of the toy, and it was pulled from shelves. Hear hear. If a teenage girl wants a vibrator, have her get a real one. Using a Harry Potter broomstick is just sick.

 

The Snacktime Kid

There was a time when Cabbage Patch Kids (1982-present) were the single dominating force in the world. As a child of the ’80s, I recall the glut and fervor that surrounded the little kewpie-faced, soft-bodied creatures with clarity. The central gimmick was that each doll came with a unique birth certificate, and each one had a slightly different face and hair. I got one. So did my sister. We liked those things a lot. Once the initial gimmick wore off, however, Coleco (later Hasbro, later Mattel) had to start innovating new iterations of the dolls.

In 1996, The Cabbage Patch Snacktime kid was released into stores. The snacktime kid was an upright-standing Cabbage Patch doll that came with brightly-colored crayon-like objects. When you placed one of these objects to the kid’s lips, its jaw would begin grinding, and it would crunch down on the stick, effectively eating it. I don’t know if the sticks were reusable. That’s a pretty neat gimmick, I suppose, this doll that would chew on and eat the little sticks that it came with. The downside was that it also tried eating anything else you put near its mouth. Reports of little kids being attacked by the dolls began to rise up, as the dolls would chew on and swallow little kids’ hair. You see horror movies about dolls trying to eat people, but here was a doll that actually tried it. If the toy uprising ever occurs, they would lead the front lines.

 

Gay Bob

Gizmo Toys created this doll in 1977 to promote gay visibility. Bob was a 13-inch doll with tight jeans, an earring and cowboy boots. I’ve never seen one up close, but reports tell me that he was also anatomically correct. The box he came in was shaped like a closet, so you can even help him come out. Of course, if the closet reads “GAY BOB” on it, I don’t think there’s much of a secret. I guess Bob stood as a homosexual counterpart for the bland, heteronormative Ken dolls that Mattel was constantly churning out. “Where”, the little gay boys must have cried, “is a gay doll for me?”

A gay man toy for kids. With a penis. Y’know, I’m all for gay visibility, but selling a fetish object to little kids seems like a bonehead move.

 

Xuxa

Xuxa is a Brazilian children’s TV show superstar. In her native country, she has surpassed most celebrities in fame. She is blonde, cute, energetic, and teaches kids lessons about the power of positive thinking, the strength of rainbows, and how friendship and togetherness are the superior forces in the universe. Imagine if Mr. Rogers were more upbeat, and was also an embarrassingly hot Brazilian model, then add some hallucinatory visuals, and you might get a good idea of what Xuxa is like.

Xuxa almost broke out in the states, as her show was aired here briefly in the early 1990s. To promote the show, a Barbie-like doll was manufactured for kids. There’s nothing really controversial about the Xuxa doll: it came with the requisite hats, coats and ultra-short shorts. But the bonkers elements of Xuxa’s personality comes from the fact that, well, she’s really, really hot. This sexy young thing danced about, showing off her thighs to a generation of kids. Many boys, I’m sure, went through puberty to this show. Her toy, then, only served to stir sexual thoughts.

 

Ouija Boards

If there is a way to contact the afterlife, it needs to be made of plastic and mass-produced by Parker Bros. I have one of the old-school versions of the Ouija Board, wherein it looked like it was made in the 1890s, and featured a picture on the cover of burning candles at a séance. Many parties have been spooked the hell out by Ouija Boards, and we all have tales of that one ghost that seemed to know more than it should. Were your friends moving it, or were you tapping into a malevolent supernatural force? What was ostensibly a board game for kids also tapped into actual dark forms of witchcraft. It’s no wonder, then, that certain killjoy parents decided that Ouija Boards weren’t good for kids. Certain superfundie Christian groups still talk out against them.

These days, the boards seem to have lost a lot of their edge, as they are manufactured in brighter colors, and come with glow-in-the-dark pointers. The odd mysticality of the toy has now been replaced with something more playful. We all know they’re toys, but, again, we all have tales to tell…

 

 

Witney Seibold is a 5’10” plastic man with real hair. He can eat and pee and bake cookies. He can also, if you wind him up, write film reviews, which are published on his ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years! He can speak hundreds of phrases, which can be heard on The B-Movies Podcast. He can teach kids about movies as part of the Free Film School. Ha can koe about movie trailers as part of his new show The Trailer Hitch. He’s the best Christmas ever. 

A few months back, I posted an article here on Geekscape declaring that the popular concept of Geek, as a collection of outsider interests, has been destroyed by their continuing mainstream approval. And while the people who have deep and unshaken passions (about, say, videogames, obscure superhero comics, and playing D&D) are still proudly geeks, and would likely continue on their roads of interests whether or not they were popular in the mainstream, it doesn’t take a very sophisticated mind to see that most interests once called “geek” have drifted into the center of popular interest. Most geeks, at least older ones like me (holy crap, I was born in the ’70s!), recall the halcyon days of the punk rock outsider status that geeks once carried. When openly talking about the details of a video game, and arguing which Enterprise captain was better, would get you shoved into a wall of lockers. These days, geeks get laid a lot more easily. Good on them.

But, through time immemorial, there have been certain geek interests that have always eluded approval, even from other geeks. While video games may be in the middle now, along with superhero comics, there are certain facets of the geek world that, I feel, will never, under any circumstances, break into the middle in the same way. Geeks easily accept their peers, and finding someone with a common interest can mean either the beginning of a respectful regard, or an entertaining rivalry. But some geeks, well, they’re just too geeky for the geek community.

In honor of our purist peers, who proudly and powerfully remain awkwardly on the outside, I have come up with the following list of the ULTRAGEEK interests. The ones that will distract the kids playing D&D so they can look up, snicker, and think to themselves “There, but for the grace of Cthulhu, go I.” Let’s look at the outsiders that are still outsiders in this world of geek acceptance.

Funny Animal Comics

I was honored to tag along to this year’s ComiCon in San Diego, thanks to the hardworking folks at Geekscape, and my favorite part of the convention was merely wandering the floor of the convention center, looking at costumes, and visiting the various studio booths that had been set up. And while the big-name comic book booths like Marvel and DC had enormous and elaborate setups where you could meet your favorite artists and compete in costume contests and the like, I felt that the real lifeblood of the con was the back corner that had remained unaltered since the event’s conception: The comics retailers. It was out where where older fat guys in stained t-shirts would haggle with you over the price of a rare, near-mint copy of a “Scrooge McDuck” comic.

Back in the ’40s and ’50s, you see, long before superheroes took the forefront of the comic book industry in earnest, many children would follow the Funny Animal Comics. Cutesy, anthropomorphic creatures, usually without pants, getting into typical sitcom scrapes, and making lame, childish jokes. These comic commanded the attention of an entire generation, and, to this day, there are youngsters (well, kids in their 30s) who passionately follow them. These Funny Animal Comics were a great influence on R. Crumb, and the people who follow them are not just reliving nostalgia; they are looking for the oddball, nightmarish edge to something that, on its surface, seems completely innocuous.

Many geeks these days, as is the wont of the average American teenager, prefer their geek interests to have an edge. There has to be a modicum of cool involved, or the interest will vanish. Funny Animal Comics, no matter how much irony you lump on them, will never be edgy or cool. And yet, people still love them.

 

Actually learning imaginary languages

A friend of mine has a tattoo around her bicep that is written in Elvish, transcribed directly from her copy of The Lord of the Rings. You yourself probably know one or two geek couples who actually bothered to have their wedding bands look like The One Ring. And, speaking of geek weddings, it’s also entirely likely that you’ve met one or two people who had a Klingon wedding. Geeky? Most certainly. But being able to identify Klingons costume, or Elvish script is now old hat. Anyone can do it.

How many geek out there, though, have actually bothered to learn Elvish or Klingon? Not so many. Thanks to the hard work of one Mark Okrand, there is an entire syntax and vocabulary for Klingon, and I believe Tolkien himself left instructions on how to speak the various Elvish dialects in his books (he was, after all, a linguist first and foremost; his fantasy stuff was always secondary in his mind). Some geeks bothered to find all the proper instructions, spend a good deal of their free time in freelance study, and actually managed to learn the entire language. Anyone can sit and watch every episode of “Star Trek,” and become a passive expert. It takes a real hardcore geek to actually speak Klingon fluently.

There was a time in my own history when my passion for “Star Trek” was such that I tried to teach myself Klingon. I did absorb a few phrases, but I think my mind retained more of my Latin classes. If you’re willing to learn an entire new language for your geek interests, that puts you way ahead.

 

The Radio Drama

This one is for me.

If you recall, I once wrote a list for Geekscape about the 10-best radio dramas. Who listens to radio dramas anymore? I hear you cry. Well, me for one. I feel that their form allows for an easier way to communicate fantasy ideas, scenarios and characters than anything visual. Radio drama is a medium you meet halfway with your imagination. Like books. They’re books you can hear. With actors, music and sound effects.

How many radio aficionados are there in the world? More than you’d think. A friend of mind regularly gathers together friends to put on an on-stage variety show, wherein he plays music and sings, and then punctuates the evening with a mock-up of old-timey radio shows, featuring a whole cast. Recently, the filmmaker Larry Fessenden out out a radio series called “Tales from beyond the Pale,” wherein recent horror directors wrote 30-minute audio stories. Here in L.A., some hot comedians regularly gather to record extraordinary tales for audio consumption. And then there’s my favorite, ZBS media in New York, who has been making weird-ass radio dramas since 1970. The form is so versatile, it’s a wonder more aren’t doing it.

In this age of increased audio download, podcasts, and song-by-song digital piecemealing, it seems to me that radio drama could be poised for a resurgence. However, if I go by the expressions on people’s faces when they hear me talk about radio drama, I’d say it still has some time left in the closet.

 

Vampire: The Masquerade

RPGs have always been one of the black sheep of the geek world. While all of us have the experience of playing “Dungeons & Dragons” at some point in our lives, there is still a odor of sub-culture geekiness wafting about the people who passionately play role-playing games with any kind of regularity. Like most geek things, such games have increased in popularity over the last 15 years or so, but I did notice that, at this last ComiCon, how few people actually spent the bulk of their time in the playrooms.

Of the RPGs in the world, I recall a single game, called “Vampire: The Masquerade,” that was scoffed at even by the hardcore RPG-players. I was invented in the early 1990s, and tapped into the coming surge of angsty vampires that Anne Rice would exploit in a few years’ time. It was melodramatic, it was angsty, and it was everything a sullen proto-Goth needed to grow into a proper Byronic hero. In addition to the role-playing elements, though (making up a character, giving them measurable personality attributes, finding the proper polyhedron dice), “Vampire: The Masquerade” seemed to encourage kids to actually dress up in costumes, and stalk about biting strangers in the neck. I remember going to an RPG convention when I was in Junior High, and seeing the Vampires biting people for points. Even the people playing “Shadowrun” were shaking their heads in pity.

These days, any instance whereupon you don a costume is called “cosplay.” Proper cosplay, though, means you are actually playing a game. If you put on a costume, and gallivant about as one of the children of the night, adopting an actual vampire persona, and pretending to suck the blood of strangers in a borderline criminal activity, well, you’ve passed into upper echelons of geekhood.

 

The Church of the SubGenius

Do ever get the feeling that you’re weird? That you’re different from other people? That they are normal, and you are somehow superior? THAT’S BECAUSE YOU ARE! If you’ve ever suspected that the rest of the world is allied in a vast and insidious conspiracy to keep you from being weird, it’s because SUCH A CONSPIRACY ACTUALLY EXISTS! But there is an answer! A beacon of hope in a pink world! You can get sex, money, power, and your slack back, by giving $35 to J.R. “Bob” Dobbs and his Church of the SubGenius! Don’t be left high and dry when, on July 5^th 1998, the Xists from Planet X come to destroy this measly little planet. If you have your SubGenius card in your wallet, you will be spared, and you will be welcomed onto the Xist crafts, where you can kill your hated enemies, steal Earth’s treasures, and have eternal sex with the alien sex goddesses. Its your right. You have the coveted yeti blood in your veins.

The Church of the SubGenius rose up in Texas to coincide with the growth of the punk movement. It was spearheaded by one Rev. Ivan Stang, who is still the head honcho of the church to this day. Mark Mothersbaugh of Devo was an early proponent. By sending them $35, you can be ordained as a SubGenius minister, and actually perform legal marriages, funerals, christenings, brises, and baptisms.

The Church has orchestrated a near-impenitrable wall of religious jargon around themselves (Stang says every good religion needs a good handful of jargon), which has kept all but the truest of true believers at bay. I myself am a SubGenius minister. If you’re enough of a kook, you can be too. Remember, The Church of the SubGenius is the only organized religion that offers you eternal salvation, OR TRIPLE YOUR MONEY BACK! You can’t afford NOT to!

 

Engineering

It’s one thing to admire The Enterprise. It’s another entirely to build one from scratch. It’s one thing to buy a plastic replica of a sonic screwdriver, it’s another entirely to build one from scratch. It’s one thing to buy a pre-made light saber, a Green Lantern ring, a suit of armor, a She-Ra tiara, a cat-o-nine-tales, a working Hitchhiker’s Guide, a Captain Pike wheelchair. But these things can – and have – been made by hardworking engineering nerds who are just as interested in hand-on crafts as they are in their object of pop culture affection. Engineers, in addition to the social awkwardness usually associated with them, are ultrageeks in their passion for the mechanical. These are the madman elder geeks who are constantly trying to turn sci-fi technology into the real thing.

Apart from some actual model-building I did as a teen (a hobby which I could likely take up again, if I ever had the free time and the nerdy motivation), I have never had the gumption or the wherewithal to buy the raw materials, the soldering irons, the paints, the pewter, the plastics, and the tools, to actually tinker a geek souvenir into existence. I admire a nice costume, but it’s all the more impressive if it was homemade. And what about those people who can actually decipher electrical diagrams, and build a screen-accurate, remote-control R2D2? The time, energy and finance that goes into such a project outstrips anything we may have spent getting to ComicCon.

These days, I have met plenty of geeks who bother to assemble their own costumes, and they are typically lionized in the Geek community for their attention to detail, and their willingness to put hot geek girls in Catwoman outfits. They are of the higher order to be sure. But the older guys who can actually build working engines and hovering Daleks? They are a class unto themselves.

 

Furries

Falling somewhere between a geek interest and legitimate fetish, the Furry community has, according to most geeks I’ve spoken to about it, baffled and confused most people. Furries are a geek subculture that extrapolated from cartoons and Funny Animal Comics an entire sexualized mode of fluffy animal worship. They come up with an animal identity for themselves (usually a fox, squirrel, cat, or wolf; hoof-free mammals only, please), and often dress as that animal. It’s a weird combination of fantasy elements (there are swords and cloaks often involved), love of stuffed animals (there are sometimes plush suits and animal noses involved), and outright sexual fetish (they boink like nobody’s business).

I have read several essays on the topic, some from insiders, and some from outsiders. Like Steampunk, I have yet to hear a convincing origin story for this particular aesthetic. It’s like various bits from geek culture all accidentally fell into the same Silly Putty egg and mixed irretrievably together. And while the fantasy animal elements may be easily accepted by some people in the geek community (how far away is an anthropomorphic fox wearing a cloak from some RPG or video game stuff?), it’s the intense sexualization – the Furries’ fetish status – that alienates most people.

Furries are visible, of course, and most geeks know about them. But, perhaps sadly for them, they have never achieved any kind of mainstream acceptance, even amongst geeks. Which may be all well and good; outsider interests take their power from their unpopularity. They will stay eternally geeky, and the fetish will be forever on the outside. Yiff.

 

College A Cappella

We’ve likely seen a few of these videos online. Some clever college a cappella choir will do an arrangement of some recent pop hit, a grunge classic, or a video game theme that will amuse, delight, and will take so small amount of talent and musical skill. But, if you do some digging, you’ll find dozens – nay, hundreds – of similar videos online. And those are just the ones being uploaded. Every college in the country (and perhaps in the world) likely has its own a cappella choir. Some may be sponsored by the school. Some may be independent entities of hastily assembled friends. But a cappella choirs are as ubiquitous as illegal booze, meal plans, and unwashed laundry.

And yes, just like marching bands, glee clubs and swing choirs, only the nerdiest of the nerds would bother joining. Geek interests these days seem to skew more toward pop culture, and less from high culture. There are still, however, geeks who are actually passionate about four-part harmony, rearranging music, and joining up with the school’s less popular organizations. Smart, talented, socially awkward, and eternally chaste, these are music nerds who won’t let the rambling of comic book fans stand in their way of learning the tenor part of the “Legend of Zelda” score.

Buy a college a cappella CD sometime. See who else is out there. Good god. They’re as common as stars. And they’re still on the outside. Not even looking in. Respect our ultrageek peers.

 

Extinct instruments

And speaking of music nerds, there’s an even more specialized field than college a cappella. There is a group of nerds in the world who regularly attends Renaissance Pleasure Faires. They dress in leather doublets, speak Elizabethan English, memorize 15^th century songs, and drink actual mead (which is, by all measures, a vile beverage). And while RenFaire nerds are still often scoffed at by the mainstream, they have achieved a kind of respect in the geek community for their passion, their abilities to make costumes, their mastery at swordplay, and – perhaps most importantly – seem to have sex on a rather regular basis. There’s more sex at a typical RenFaire day than there is at a dozen ComiCons. They’re a randy lot.

But then there are the acts at a RenFaire. The people who take to the stage to provide some period entertainment for the normals who have wandered in. And while there are the aforementioned music nerds, who can dissect ancient melodies with intelligence and aplomb, there is a further group of people who actually have a talent for instruments. A co-worker of mine is one of those incredible minds who can pick up just about anything, and pluck out a melody within a matter of minutes. It’s from this camp that we have the next group of ultrageeks: people who can play extinct instruments.

Being able to play the electric guitar makes you cooler. Acoustic guitar makes you more soulful. But the lute? That puts you in a new camp. Can you play the racket? The cittern? The fife? The virginal? The psaltery? How about the gamelan (provided you’re not from Indonesia)? The oud? Do you even know what some of those are? If you do, you may be on your way already.

 

Filking

I know. It sounds like an obtuse sexual practice. Let me explain.

The word “filk” is a portmanteau of “folk” (as in folk music) and “fi” (as in sci-fi, as in science fiction). The practice of filking involves gathering, sometimes in costume, sometimes around a campfire, and improvising folk songs based on science fiction properties. You can sing the ballad of Optimus Prime, or recite a Klingon death dirge, or croon quietly the brave story of Hal Jordan. You’re encouraged, from what I understand, to invent your own melody, provided it sounds like an actual old-school ballad.

It’s kind of a combination of theater nerds obsessed with the Bardic tradition, Sci-fi one-upmanship, and music geekery. Shakespeare meets improv theater meets pop culture savviness. The practice may have sprung from the song in Lord of the Rings, or perhaps the honorable myths of the Klingons. Either way, it’s on the outer ring of geek culture.

And on the outer ring it will likely remain. This is something that even most geeks haven’t heard of, and are embarrassed to learn about. Just like when I describe furries to people, I tend to get a glassy and disgusted expression from my listeners. That is has such a dirty-sounding name doesn’t help either. This is a practice reserved for those hardcore geeks who never had an interest in anything mainstream in the least. The true outsiders. The eternal geeks that will always be there to keep the spirit alive.

I say, God bless them.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a geek who is slowly aging out of all the pertinent demographics. He lives in Los Angeles with his awesome wife, and his ever-growing output of film reviews. He writes reviews for his ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years! And gives spoken-word reviews as half of The B-Movies Podcast on Crave Online. He teaches you all about movies with his series of Free Film School articles, and even records a show called The Trailer Hitch, where he gives color commentary on movie previews. 

 

 

Cannibalism, to me, is the funniest of all taboos. The fact that a person can also be a meal kind of makes me giggle. This is not to say that I’m one of those hollow-eyed weirdos who, at parties, wonders aloud what human flesh tastes like. But I do sort of smirk when, in movies, a character becomes food for other people. Does anyone else feel this way, or am I the weird one? Who else giggles a little when someone says “What’s for dinner?” and someone else shoots back “Jennifer”?

Well even if I’m the only one who is amused by it, I think we all have a sickening fascination with cannibalism. Why else would we put it in movies so frequently? Indeed, there was a time in film history – about the mid 1970s – when Italian cannibal gore films with titles like “Cannibal Ferox” appeared regularly in grindhouses and drive-ins. We not only liked the “mondo” approach to human gore, but the fact that there were still people on this planet interested in eating other people. It was a reminder, I suppose, of how primitive the human mind still was. Indeed, the genre is still so ubiquitous, there’s an entire catalog of cannibal films online on Indie Film.

So, while we’re all thinking of meals made out of friends, I, Witney Seibold, resident old man, and Geekscape list-maker, thought I’d run down another top-10 list, this time detailing some of the best instances of cannibalism in movies and TV and theater. So sit back, grab and snack (maybe some beef jerky), and let’s get to some gnawing on human bones.

 

10) “Alive” (1993)

dir. Frank Marshall

Famously the worst film to show on airplanes, “Alive” told the true-life story of a team of Uruguayan rugby players who, on the way home from a match in another country, crashed in a remote part of the Andes. A few were killed in the crash, and the remaining survivors camped out in the snow for weeks, while a few brave souls walked for many, many miles to civilization. The film is inspiring and actually demonstrates the tenacity of the human spirit.

But it’s the cannibalism we all remember. Famously, in order to survive, and low on food in the snowy environment, the survivors had to roast up chunks of the dead. In interviews, the real-life rugby players were pragmatic and kind of regretful. It was snowing, the bodies were well-preserved in the cold, and we needed food. Commonplace desperation. In the movie, it’s treated tastefully (yuk yuk), but with perhaps too heavy a hand, making it a kind of lurid thrill. I saw the film back in 1993, and, like most of my peers, I was just waiting for the cannibalism scene. It’s why we went.

As an adult, you’ll find a quality film. But you’ll also find human eating, and that’s a gory thrill unto itself.

 

9) “Eating Raoul” (1982)

dir. Paul Bartel

This cult film is one you should have seen. It’s weird, sexy, gross, and delightfully sick. Director/actor Paul Bartel starred in dozens of films in his life, so you probably recognize him. He also directed other cult classics like “Cannonball!” and “Death Race 2000.” And while the cannibalism isn’t fast and furious in the film, the title doesn’t lie when it refers to eating Raoul.

Bartel plays a down-on-his-luck businessman named Paul who can’t get funding for his restaurant. His wife Mary (B-movie icon Mary Woronov) wants to help, but can’t think of anything to do other than prostitution. When Mary is beset by a violent John one day, Paul accidentally kills him in a fit of rage. Luckily for them, a neighbor, Raoul (Robert Beltran from “Star Trek: Voyager”) has the perfect solution. They get to keep the John’s money, and he gets the body. He then sells the bodies to a pet food store. Eventually Raoul ingratiates himself further into their lives, becoming a creepy sexual accomplice

By the film’s end, Paul and Mary have had enough, and they kill Raoul and, uh, well, they eat him. I can’t be giving that away, as the film is called “Eating Raoul.” It’s a playfully ghoulish ending to an otherwise cracked crime flick.

 

8) “Titus Andronicus” (c. 1592)

Boy, this play has everything! There are several revenge killings, there is manipulation, the main character cuts off his hand, a woman gets raped, has her hands cut off and her tongue cut out, there’s some creepy incestuous stuff, there’s some taboo miscegenation, the main character goes mad, some character masquerade as gods, and, yes indeed, there’s some cannibalism. This is Shakespeare’s only play that has cannibalism, and, perhaps not incidentally, it was Shakespeare’s biggest hit back when it opened. I understand that schools like to feed “Romeo & Juliet” to kids in the hope that they’ll relate to the kids more readily, but something tells me they’d become more excited about The Bard if they sat to read this ultra-violent potboiler instead.

So Titus Andronicus has been slowly going mad, thanks to the vengeful machinations of Tamora, the queen of the Goths. She’s been steadily whittling away at his relatives until they are either dead, mute, mad, or all three. In a final act of mockery, Tamora and her two sons pretend to be gods. When she’s not looking, Titus kidnaps the sons, and, to re-revenge Tamora back, kills them, bakes them into pies, and serves them up at royal court. Yeah, everyone gets to have a few big bites of big meaty pies.

Julie Taymor made a film version of “Titus,” and in it, the pies are heavy, rare and really awesome looking. You’ve never felt so luridly gut-churned at the end of a nearly-three-hour Shakespeare movie before. Even Shakespeare likes human eating. That lends the taboo some class, right?

 

7) “A Boy and His Dog” (1975)

dir. L.Q. Jones

Another bizarro cult film for your consumption pleasure, “A Boy and His Dog” is a post-apocalypse comedy wherein a horny twentysomething (Don Johnson) wanders the dusty landscape looking for water, supplies, and women to bone, and not necessarily in that order. The twist is that he can have intelligent conversations with his pet dog Blood (voiced by Tim McIntire), who seems to be either psychic, or merely our hero’s hallucination.

He eventually finds a clean, good-looking woman to sleep with, and she leads him to a subterranean society of well-off bourgeoisie types who have become sterile, and who intend to use our hero as a mechanical inseminator. Not quite what he had in mind, our hero escapes back to the surface, only to find his dog starving to death. His girlfriend has proven to be a horrible person, and his dog is the only friend he’s ever really had. The dog needs food… Two birds with one stone…

The cannibalism happens right near the end of the film, but it’s a nice wicked twist. Usually cannibalism in movies is a final desperate act, or the character of a savage mind. In this one, it’s depicted as an act of defiance.

 

6) “Cannibal Holocaust” (1980)

dir. Ruggero Deodato

I’ve spoken of this film before (as one of the Most Disgusting Movies Ever Made), so I’ll be brief. A group of rich asshole filmmakers venture into the wilds of the Amazon in order to capture cannibals on film, when their real motivation is to torture, rape and kill savages without consequences. They eventually are punished for their asshole-ism when cannibals capture them and eat them alive. Fun times.

The cannibalism is, in “Cannibal Holocaust,” probably the most explicit you’ll ever witness outside of those sick “Faces of Death” videos. It was such a sensation that it spawned an entire Italian subgenre. The filmmakers were taken to court, too; people thought the gory, gory, gory acts on screen were real, and the actors had to be brought to court to prove that they weren’t killed on camera. Think you have a strong stomach? Try this one on for size.

 

5) “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street” (1979)

Stephen Sondheim’s opera is one of the darkest, weirdest, and most dissonant musicals ever written, and I’ve seen “Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark.” It was based on an old British urban myth about a killer barber, a myth popularized in a series of pulp novels. There were a few film versions along the way, but it was the 1979 musical that really pushed Sweeney Todd into the public consciousness.

Sweeney Todd was a man who, wrongfully imprisoned, and having a bone to pick with society, takes to murdering people for fun. He teams up with an equally grim and jaded would-be girlfriend, and they come up with the perfect setup: Todd will lure people to the attic with the promise of a close shave, he will slit their throats, and they will fall into the basement where his girlfriend will prepare the people into pies. It’s such a sweet romance.

Sondheim upped the ante, however, giving Todd a lengthy backstory, and the tragic accidental killing of his old true love. Damn. Tim Burton adapted the musical to film in 2007, and really captured the carnival weirdness of the show, casting Johnny Depp as Sweeney Todd. The music is, as I said, weird, but the cannibalism is wonderfully twisted. There are no other musicals with so much murder and human eating. Not even “Cannibal! The Musical” has as much.

 

4) “Parents” (1989)

dir. Bob Balaban

Michael (Bryan Madorsky) has just moved to a new neighborhood. He hates it. He is a quiet, pale, sickly boy. His parents (Randy Quaid and Mary Beth Hurt) are chipper and cheerful in that insufferable 1950s sort of way. Michael hates school and hates homelife, and is especially suspicious of dinnertime, when his parents serve him meat from the fridge every night. It’s always the same. Eventually Michael gets curious.

“What is this?” he asks. “Leftovers!” his dad cheerfully insists. “Leftovers from what?” he logically continues. His mother chirps in incredulously “From the refrigerator, dear!” He eyeballs the two of them suspiciously. “Every night since we’ve moved into this house, we’ve had leftovers. I want to know what they were before they were leftovers.” His dad looks ashen for a moment, and then, clearly spitballing, replies “Before that… they were… leftovers to be!”

It doesn’t take a very sophisticated genre fan to recognize that Michael has been fed human flesh. “Parents” is an excellent little dark comedy that sends up ’50s idealism and blends it with sickeningly amusing horror. It’s the only feature film to have been directed by comedian Bob Balaban.

3) “Supernatural”

“My Bloody Valentine” episode (2010)

I heard about this one. The show is, as you probably know, another Kolchak lift-off wherein ordinary humans hunt down secret supernatural begins who are up to no good. “Supernatural” is about a pair of brothers who cruise about the country in their souped-up muscle car hunting down the monsters that kill. It’s like a meathead version of “The X-Files,” and the few episodes I’ve seen are quite good. I’m sure there are readers of Geekscape who are much more qualified to write about this show than I.

But, for the purposes of cannibalism, I do have to mention one particularly disturbing instance of it in “Supernatural.” At the episode’s outset, a pair of lovey-dovey teenagers, probably about 15, both on their first date ever, meet for some chaste romance. They go to a drive-in where they hold hands. They begin kissing a little. Then they begin making out in a fashion that seems all too disturbingly violent. They resolve to retire to his place, where they’ll continue their sexual maneuvers, which would ordinarily be expected, but seems, I dunno, a little off for these two. They make out some more, they nibble and bite. He bites into her skin and draws blood. He steps back, shocked at his own actions. She winces in pain. They make eye contact. She then blithely offers some of her arm…

Cut to the next scene. The teenagers are dead, having munched at each other until they died. We eventually learn that the apocalyptic horseman Famine is behind this twisted little date, but while we’re watching it, it hits you in the gut. It’s weird, sick, disturbing. Lust, romance, and cannibalism are all, ofr a brief moment, compressed into one. Eesh.

 

2) “Hannibal” (2001)

dir. Ridley Scott

Ridley Scott’s clunky, 9-years-after-the-fact sequel to “The Silence of the Lambs” is kind of misguided, and way more lurid than the original. Rather than deal with the subtle intellectual back-and-forth between a young inexperienced FBI trainee and a razor-sharp serial killer who may or may not be attracted to her is abandoned in the face of protracted revenge plots, man-eating pigs, and Gary Oldman in some of the most disturbing makeup you’ll see in a movie. Hopkins reprises his role, and gives his all, but by 2001 he started to teeter into oddball territory. Jodie Foster would not return, being replaced by Julianne Moore.

Hannibal Lecter is, of course, famous for killing his victims, and eating them over a nice glass of wine. We never saw him in action, as it was scarier just to hear the stories. In “Hannibal,” though, we see him in action. I don’t think this is as scary, but it does make for one of the most disturbing and bizarre cannibalism scene in all film. Near the film’s climax, Lecter has brought all the players of the drama to a dinner table, including Clarice’s boss, played by a lecherous Ray Liotta. Lecter has drugged Ray Liotta, and has removed the top of his skull, exposing his brain while he is conscious. Lecter cuts off a bit of his brain and throws it into a Foreman grill. Liotta mentions that it smells good, and Lecter feeds a bit to him.

EW! EW! EW! Oh man, did I ever squirm. The sight of Liotta eating his own brains made me wince and feel a bit nauseated. The eating of an animal brain seems weird and dodgy to me at the outset. A human brain, doubly so. But your own brain? Ack. I haven’t ever barfed in a theater, but a scene like this would make me come close.

 

1) “Soylent Green” (1975)

dir. Richard Fleischer

More people know the twist ending of “Soylent Green” than have actually seen the film. This is a pity, as it seems to soften the blow when you’re watching it for the first time. For those who haven’t seen this sci-fi classic, let me run it down.

It is the future, and we’re following the exploits of a poor working class cop named Thorne (Charlton Heston). Overpopulation has run rampant, resources have dwindled, suicide is encouraged, and people live exclusively on government-sanctioned protein crackers called Soylent. There are various flavors of Soylent that come in special color codes. Soylent yellow is made from plants, for instance. The most popular cracker, the meat-flavored one, is Soylent green, mined from deep-sea fish factories. All the animals, by the way, have died.

While investigating a murder, Thorne, of course, uncovers a shadowy conspiracy involving the production of Soylent crackers. The secret? Well, you know what it is. Just fill in the blank: “Soylent Green is ____________!” How chilling to think, though, especially as human population has just surpassed 7 billion, that institutionalized cannibalism might be in our future. I’m in real trouble, too, ’cause I love crackers.

Editor’s Bonus Entry:

“Cannibal: The Musical” (1993)

dir. Trey Parker

This one is probably Matt Kelly and Jonathan London’s favorite cannibal film, created by South Park’s Trey Parker and Matt Stone long before the success of South Park and currently available on DVD by Troma. The movie follows the real life story of Alferd Packer, a prospector accused of cannibalism during the winter of 1873-1874. Sure, a biopic was made in 1980, but it’s this hilarious musical that Geekscapists will remember.

Memorable scenes include a fluid-spewing cyclops, Japanese Native Americans, surprisingly good musical numbers, a lot of fudge and singing Canadian fur trappers. Parker and Stone were college seniors when they put together this piecemeal production (and the result is pretty piecemeal), be we’re willing to overlook the production limitations and loads of historical inaccuracies simply for the loads of laughs and charm this movie provides.

 

Witney Seibold is a walking meal from Los Angeles. He has his own very-occasionally updated movie review ‘blog called Three Cheers for Darkened Years! where he reviews almost every new film he sees. The rest go up on Crave Online, where he is half the voice of The B-Movies Podcast, and tries to teach you a thing or two about movies in the Free Film School. He also just started a new li’l show called The Trailer Hitch with William Bibbiani, where he MST3Ks his way through movie trailers. Read all his output, and you’ll be smarter.

It occurred to me recently (in my twisted, mossy, stygian, cavernous imagination) that little furry animals lurk everywhere in our pop culture memories. Little kids like animals (well, most of them do, anyway) and even if we’re romanticizing ponies or elephants or larger animals, the versions of those animals that toy manufacturers will market to our impressionable little brains are typically little fuzzy, easily held, cuddly animals. Even animals that are decidedly not cuddly (alligators, giraffes, killer whales, microscopic viruses) have been made into cutesy plushie versions at this point. “Cute” is an easy sell. Especially to kids. Most geeks, for instance, know the meaning of the Japanese word “chibi”.

And cute little furry imaginary animals are just as common as the cute little furry real animals. Furry little monsters. Little. Furry. Furry little things. Little balls of fluff with a face and maybe legs. Think about it. Those miserable little creatures are everywhere, ready to cuddle and to give you cavities. Or sometimes kill you. But they always look so cuddly. And furry.

Let’s look at a list of little furry things. Geeky things you want to hug.

 

10) Those things from “Meet the Feebles”

from “Meet the Feebles” (1995)

While Peter Jackson is best known for his big-budget CGI features, I prefer to think of his as a purveyor of twisted cult films like “Meet the Feebles,” an X-rated puppet film that plays like a down-and-dirty version of “The Muppet Show.” If you haven’t seen this film, seek it out immediately. I see interviews with Jackson, and while he seems comfortable with big budgets and high-profile feature films, I sense that he longs to return to the goofy, funny lower-budget, practical effects films of the 1990s. I fear “Lord of the Rings” will do to Jackson what”Star Wars” did to George Lucas; stymie his creativity.

Anyway, one of the characters in “Meet the Feebles,” a melancholic elephant, had achieved fame in the Fabulous Feebles Variety Hour with an unseen act of trained furballs. They were smiley little creatures that would coo, squeak, and, when left unattended, get into mischief. They would frequently pee on the elephant’s belongings. They were colorful and cute. These creatures were never named, and were of an unknown species, but they seemed friendly. Sadly, near the outset of the film, the entire lot of them were crushed to death by a rolling barrel. Little is known about these little monsters, but I would love to pet one. Well, provided it didn’t pee on me.

 

9) The Furries

from “Fury of the Furries” (1993)

This one wins the obscurity prize for the week. “Fury of the Furries” was a computer game that was released in the early 1990s by a company named Kalisto Entertainment. It was a puzzle game in the style of “Lemmings,” in that you had to direct a group of creatures – each with an assigned talent – through a maze-like corridor full of pitfalls, traps, and other dangers. The challenge was, like the Lemmings, you could only use one talent at a time, forcing you to switch between them.

The creatures in this game, the titular Furries, were, mercifully, not the plushie fetishists you’ve heard so much about. The Furries were little fuzzy cotton balls with faces, hands and feet. Their scale was never exactly given, but I imagine they were about four inches tall. The red Furry could eat through rock. The blue Furry could swim. The yellow Furry could throw fireballs. The green Furry could swing on a grappling hook, Spider-Man style. Each one made a cute little noise as it used its talent. It’s been many years since I’ve played his game (I think I last encountered it in 1994), but that I still so vividly recall these little Furries speaks to their strength. They earn a spot on this list.

 

8) Swinub

from “Pokémon Gold and Silver” (2000)

From Wikipedia: “Swinub is a pig covered in brown fur with dark brown stripes, and is found in icy areas. It roots around with its nose to find food, its favorite being a certain mushroom that grows under dead grass. Swinub’s nose is so tough that even the frozen ground poses no problem. Occasionally, it will find hot springs while rooting around in the ground.”

A confession: I played some of the Pokémon games well into my 20s. I got hooked on them when I was about 23, and managed to catch ’em all in both “Pokémon Gold” and “Pokémon Emerald.” I’ve also seen the first ten “Pokémon” feature films. This is not something I’m particularly proud of, but it certainly ups my know-how on newer video games a skosh, and, if looked at in the right light, makes me much cooler; I bothered to give an adult analysis of something for kids.

It makes me cooler, right? Right?

 

7) Popples

from the TCFC toy line (c. 1986)

From the people who thought up the Care Bears and Strawberry Shortcake came another big toy sensation that was augmented by a TV program, and further warped out childhoods. Popples were cuddly little bear-like creatures with round bodies, short limbs, and marsupial pouches on their backs. You could push the ritters inside out, and push them into their own back pouches, turning them into little balls of fluff you could toss about. Cute idea for a toy. It’s a teddy bear and a soft soccer ball.

There was, of course, an animated TV program to feature the Popples, which featured two young children trying to conceal the existence of Popples from the world at large. The creatures had cutesy names like Potato Chip, Puffball, Pancake and Pretty Bit. The show, from what I recall, sucked roundly. I learn from some cursory internet research, however, that the pilot for the cartoon was actually a live-action puppet show with Shelley DuVall. That sounds pretty amazing.

The Popples, in my mind, could easily defeat the Shirt Tales, but were inferior to Wuzzles.

 

6 ½) Ryo-Ohki

from “Tenchi Muyo!” (1992)

Part cat, part rabbit, and all meows, Ryo-Ohki was the mystical pet of the inter-dimensional princess in the anime series “Tenchi Muyo!” one of the first big anime hits to strike the geek crowd back in the early 1990s. The series followed a teenage boy, and his constant staving off of the aforementioned princess, as well as other potential suitors. This seems to be a common theme in a lot of anime; young boys are constantly fighting off female attention.

Ryo-Ohki was so goddam cute. It would twitch and meow, begging to be petted. Indeed, Ryo-Ohki was so adorable a critter, that it sort of, for many years, became the de facto face of all anime. I know many girls who can do perfect impersonations of Ryo-Ohki, even if they haven’t seen “Tenchi Muyo!” Go to any anime or comic book convention, and you’ll find scads of Ryo-Ohki dolls for sale, equally cute, and just as ready to be cuddled. No one can do inscrutable super-cuteness like the Japanese. Ryo-Ohki is, in my mind, some sort of archetype.

 

6) Nummymuffincoocolbutter

from “Mystery Science Theater 3000” (1995)

Dr. Clayton Forrester realized that people respond to cuteness in a way that makes them docile, pliant, and easily influenced. As such, he created the single most adorable creature he could think of in order to unleash it on the public, and control the world. He creation was Nummymuffincoocolbutter, a little pink dog-like create that was completely immobile, and did little other than coo, wag its tail, and shed copiously. Another benefit of Nummymuffincoocolbutter was that it would imprint on its owner like a baby duck, making for a complete breakdown of cute defenses.

Of course, the experiment proved to be too effective, as TV’s Frank ended up bonding with the animal thing, causing Nummymuffincoocolbutter to become ill with loneliness. Nummymuffincoocolbutter was just the right kind of furry thing: undeniably cute, but somehow insidiously calculating. I always liked my furry creatures to have a bit of an edge. I’m also astonished I just typed the preceding sentence.

 

5) The Cheat

from homestarrunner.com (c. 2002)

The Cheat is a wedge-shaped creature covered with yellow hair and black spots. His anatomy is just plain baffling. He can’t speak English, really, speaking in little squeaks and noises. He often say “meh.” He’s a cute little bugger, and has led a varied career as a show animal, as an Icelandic miner, and as a criminal. The Cheat is the sidekick of Strong Bad, the sometime villain of the Homestar Runner universe. He is aptly named, as he is well know for his cheatin’ ways, often pulling off capers, and comitting random acts of vandalism and theft.

Imagine if Pikachu was a little shorter, a bit more mean spirited, actually had some personality, and took a great deal of pleasure in petty tyranny, and you’ll have a good idea of what The Cheat is. The Cheat is often playfully mistrated, usually taking kicks from Strong Bad. You can get a plush The Cheat doll from the homestarunner.com website, and the makers encourage that you kick it. It squeals when you do.

 

4) Fizgig

from “The Dark Crystal” (1982)

Jim Henson’s 1982 fantasy film is still, to this day, one of the best-looking fantasy films ever made. It’s oddly atmospheric, and the puppets are first-rate. Watching the scene where the army of evil Skeksis have dinner around a table, not really speaking, and savoring their disgusting epicurean fare is a marvel of puppetry and pacing. The evil Skeksis are balanced by the slow-moving and ancient Mystics, and they all tie in somehow to a great purple crystal that was broken many years ago.

The film is, however, not without the usual Disney pitfall of Cute Animal Sidekick. The film’s hero, Jen, manages to accumulate a little ball of fur called Fizgig, which looked like a cross between a flat-nosed puppy, and Animal from The Muppets. It had cute little round eyes, and could scurry about in an adorable manner, but, when upset, would scream at the top of its lungs, exposing rows and rows of teeth. I know a lot of kids who were a little scared by Fizgig. I always liked the little bugger.

 

3) The Crites

from “Critters” (1986)

They came from outer space. They roll up into little hedgehog balls, and look like you can pet them. They unfold, revealing little wicked red eyes, and enough teeth to chew through a cow. They traveled in packs, eating everything in sight, usually like piranhas, skeletonizing people in a matter of seconds. If you try to run, they can even fire poison darts out of their backs, stunning you. There things are wicked little critters.

There were four “Critters” movies over the years, and they would do battle with Earthlings, other aliens, and even went into space at one point. Their size might have you thinking they’re sure and easy to dispatch of, but they proved to be formidable foes. They could be punted, yes, but were so lightweight, they would simply roll up and roll back for more. Seeing the films on TV as a kid scared the bejebus out of me, especially that once scene in “Critters 2: The Main Course,” where hundreds of Crites roll up into a single giant ball, and roll over a human, leaving a still-quivering skeleton behind. Jibblie jibblie.

 

2) Gizmo

from “Gremlins” (1984)

Joe Dante’s Christmas-themed monster film “Gremlins,” definitely not o.k. For little kids, was still, like “Poltergeist” before it, seen by an entire generation, and inspired hundreds of nightmares. It also served as the inspiration of all kinds of little-tiny-monster-wreak-havoc movies, from “Critters” to “Ghoulies,” to (choke) “Munchies.” It’s such a weird film, it’s kind of surprising to see how popular it became.

The Mogwai, as we all know, had some very clear guidelines and rules. For one: bright lights kill them. Second: Merely getting them wet makes them multiply. Third: If they eat after midnight (I’m guessing in their own time zone), they spit up gooey cocoons, and hatch into the evil, destructive, reptilian Gremlins of the title. As Mogwai, they are pretty complacent. As Gremlins, they’re evil. The spokes-Mogwai for the film was, of course, Gizmo, a cute little creature with big bat ears and large, friendly eyes, and who seemed regretful about his potentially destructive body. He seems to regret the unruly natures of his children. One Mogwai can, as we have learned, lead to the deaths of untold thousands. Talk about a cute little critter with an edge.

 

1) Tribbles

from “Star Trek” (1966-1969)

Their trilling sound can break through the sternest of characters. Even Spock becomes hypnotized by their little noises. They are born hungry, and tend to eat grain at an incredible rate. Oddly, by eating, they become pregnant, and more hungry tribbles are out to eat more grain. They are bisexual. They are too! Dr. McCoy said so. They have no features beyond their hair. They have no faces, no limbs, no nothing. They are little purring balls of fur, and easily the most notorious furry things in pop culture history.

Tribbles hate Klingons. We don’t know why, but they freak out when a Klingon is nearby. They shriek. Maybe Klingons smell funny to them. Y’know, if they had noses. It was explained in an episode of “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” that the Klingons went on a fatwa against the tribbles, seeking out their homeworld and destroying it. Just because they found tribbles to be annoying. That’s very cold, sir. How could you reists that little purring wad of fur that’s so much fun to pet? Well, we’ll leave that one for the ages.

QuvlIjDaq yIH tu’be’lu’jaj.

 

Witney Seibold is a green furry monster living under your bed. He sneaks out at night and feeds on dryer lint. He likes to hide ball-point pens, and puts mold on your fruit. He has a ‘blog called Three Cheers for Darkened Years! which features hundreds of film reviews. He is half the voice of The B-Movies Podcast on Crave Online, and he is the ersatz professor behind that same site’s Free Film School. He is also the mastermind behind The Series Project. 

There is a fundamental flaw with most multi-film horror storytelling. A single 90-minute film can usually get around it, but when a horror film series gets into the the fourth or fifth sequel, we have to face the problem of who the hero of the story is. You see, if a hero is faced with a supernatural killer, and they are successful in vanquishing their foe, then the story has ended. If the killer is resurrected for the sequel, you either have to have the same hero face them down a second time, making for a dull repetition, or you have to bring in a new hero to vanquish them, which would only serve to reveal how easily the supernatural killer can be killed; if anyone can do it, what’s the threat? The dramatic focus shifts away from the victim, and our sympathies begin to lie with the killer. And while I do revel in cheesy horror sequels as much as the next gorehound, I do get pangs watching a story arc form around a horrible murderer.

 

The best ways to tell a horror story are actually the shortest. A brief tale where someone is stalked, killed, or driven mad by an extreme situation, and are left triumphant in the best scenario, or dead in the worst. I’ve read Stephen King’s 1000-page horror tome It, and I have to say that by prolonging the tortures, the book becomes less scary. Far more scary is a ten-minute campfire story told at night to a group of skittish listeners. As Shakespeare once said, brevity is the soul of wit. A scary story is going to be scarier if you don’t necessarily know the hero or the villain, and anything can happen in the brief time you’re allotted.

 

Which brings me to the topic of this week’s list: Anthology horror. There are a few movies and TV shows in the world that have sought to capture this witty and scary brevity. Movies and that have, rather than stretching a horror movie into 90 minutes (pretty much guaranteeing cynical audience predictions about who will die next), tell three or four shorter movies together, connected by a storyteller of some kind. I love this approach to horror movies, and have always liked the horror form. The TV shows tend to do it even better, as it allows them to write whatever stories they like, disregarding distracting ideas like continuity and accumulating character arcs. They can just have a rotating bevy of popular actors, creative stories, and even vastly differing tones.

 

Here then is a look at ten pieces of anthology horror, five TV shows and five movies, that exemplify the form best.

 

To start with, the movies:

 

5) “Three… Extremes” (2004)

dir. Fruit Chan, Park Chan-wook, Takashi Miike

Asian horror has its own passionate cult following the same way anime does. Indeed, I’m sure we can all remember the glut of Japanese horror remakes that flooded America just a few years ago. J-Horror, along with horror films from other Asian countries, seems to have a much different sensibility than Western horror films. Western horror seems to be about a punitive system, where a killer punishes vice and rewards virtue (like any slasher movie). Or, at the very least, revenge is enacted upon those who wrong another character (something like “I Spit on Your Grave”). J-Horror seems to be about discovering the evils that already float around the country; like a kind of cultural guilt is capable of killing anyone or anything. Korean films seem to be about sudden punishment that is not connected to any perceivable crime (watch “Oldboy” sometime).

 

“Three… Extremes” consists of thee short films, one from China, one from Korea and one from Japan. The Chinese chapter, “Dumplings” is a shortened version of a feature film wherein an aging woman discovers a secret recipe for a youthful demeanor. Don’t ask what’s in the dumplings, though, and don’t ask why the chef who prepares them makes frequent trips to the abortion clinic. I haven’t seen the full-length version, but this 20-minute version is wicked and weird in itself. The Korean chapter, from the director of “Oldboy” features a mad killer who has kidnapped a pianist and her husband, and forces the husband to watch while he slices off the pianists fingers and blends them. There’s also a twist about a young child, and a tantalising offer that the couple will be set free iof they murder an 11-year-old girl. Park Chan-wook is awesome at this sort of twisted thing. The Japanese film, by the prolific and amazing Takashi Miike, is about a dancer and a mysterious secret about a box she keeps.

 

These films are dark and, well, extreme. It’s rare that every film in an anthology horror film is excellent, but “Three… Extremes” fits the bill. A few years after this theatrical release, there was a straight-to-video film called, inelegantly, “3 Extremes II.” As I often implore, stick with the original.

 

4) “Trick R’ Treat” (2009)

dir. Michael Dougherty

It could be argued that Michael Dougherty’s “Trick ‘r Treat” is more of a clever out-of-chronological-order feature, but it’s presented as an anthology film, so I count it on this list. And while the film isn’t stellar, and won’t – as its noisy festival buzz from a few years ago implied – change the face of the horror movie, “Trick ‘r Treat” is still excellent in one regard: it really does capture the fun, gory spirit of Halloween better than most any movie. The film takes place over a single Halloween night, wherein we meet, over the course of four short films, all manner of monsters, killers, and beasties.

 

The first film, and my favorite, is about a wicked suburbanite dad (played by the indispensable Dylan Baker) who is so into Halloween, he ends up killing a few people, as well as teaching his son on what killing is all about. There is also a tale of werewolves involving the virginal Anna Paquin and her sluttier friends. There is a story of young kids going to a misty lake where a schoolbus was destroyed years before. And there is a curious tale of a grizzled Brian Cox fighting off an interloping trick-or-treater who is so determined to get a treat, that he’s willing to commit acts of violence.

 

By turns gory, fun, violent, weird, outrageous, and gleefully stupid, “Trick ‘r Treat,” is a good one for any October. What’s more, rather than merely sticking to the boilerplate werewolves and serial killers, the film bothers to invent a new monster. I won’t say what it is, but you’ll love it when you see it.

 

3) “Asylum” (1972)

dir. Roy Ward Baker

The 1970s were a ripe time for anthology horror movies, and one of the best of these was Roy Ward Baker’s surreal arthouse collection “Asylum.” The conceit was that we were taking a tour of an insane asylum, and we were given the stories of four of the patients held therein, explaining what caused them to go mad. Horror films set in insane asylums have always fascinated me, as they seem to declare that sanity, reality, rules and morality can all be boiled down to matters of perspective. One can, if one is clever enough and convinced enough, commit all manner of atrocities, and not be convinced otherwise. “Asylum” tells the tales of four people, all with completely unreliable perspectives, how they got there, the tales they tell are chilling.

 

While some of the stories are outright dumb (the one about the killer robots operated through astral projection is a little far-fetched), there is one story in particular that will keep you up at night. A man, you see, in a fit of rage, murders his wife (Charlotte Rampling), and cuts up her body for storage. He wraps the individual body parts in brown paper. Later that night, the various parts, still wrapped in brown paper, spring to life, and come crawling after him. The one shot of the severed head trying to breathe through the brown paper left me awake. And I was 19 when I saw it.

 

This film is, I admit, kind of obscure, and not solid all the way through, but that one image left such a strong impression on me, I’m including it on this list. Also it has Peter Cushing and a young, hot Britt Ekland.

 

2) “Tales of Terror” (1962)

dir. Roger Corman

In the early 1960s, B-movie god Roger Corman struck upon the idea to make film versions of several of Edgar Allan Poe’s famous short stories, which were hitherto untapped. His adaptations, while moody and colorful and atmospheric, were typically pretty campy, and rarely cleaved very close to the source material. His “Fall of the House of Usher” is less of a poetic look of an ancient family’s deterioration, and more an incest-implied potboiler.

 

The bets of his Poe adaptations, though, was probably “Tales of Terror” from 1962. All three stories in the film featured Vincent Price in a different role, and each is surprisingly entertaining. The first, about a man haunted by the ghost of his dead daughter, is a little strange and non-committal, but the other two are lurid and fun and twisted. “The Black Cat” is about a drunk (Peter Lorre, yo) who ends up encasing a dandyish Price in a wall with a hated cat. The pleasures of “The Black Cat” is seeing the always creepy and always wonderful Lorre rolling his eyes and vaguely threatening people. The third film, “The Case of M. Valdemar” is a twisted little tale about an obsessed hypnotist (Basil Rathbone) who uses hypnosis to keep a dying man alive, even after his body begins to decay. Weird and is ends in a weird way which I will not reveal.

 

The film is devoid of extreme violence, and yet still has the ability to scare you out of your pants. Have we lost something in recent decades? Has our tolerance for extreme violence dulled our ability to scare each other? I would say not. A good horror film can be rated PG. As “Tales of Terror” exemplifies.

 

1) “Creepshow” (1982)

dir. George A. Romero

Those roaches. That’s all, man. Those roaches. They scare the crap out of me. I hate bugs. I always have had a phobia about beetles and insects. Watching hundreds of thousands of real cockroaches crawling out of the various orifices of a man’s body, even after he’s spent the entirety of his short film keeping them out of his apartment… oh man, it still makes me shiver. I can’t watch the cockroaches.

 

George A. Romero’s “Creepshow” was certainly not the first horror anthology film, but it is, in my mind, one of the exemplars of the genre, and started many of the anthology horror trends that would lead to one of the best TV series ever made. Stephen King, inspired by the gory EC comics of his youth, wrote five tales of terror, all of which end in a gruesome death. Each one starred a recognizable actor, so the film is chock full of some wonderful celebrity cameos, including Leslie Nielsen, Ted Danson, Hal Holbrook, E.G. Marshall, Ed Harris, and even King himself.

 

There is a tale of an uppity patriarch who demands a Father’s Day cake from his horrible brood, to the point where he’ll come back from the dead to get it. There is the tale of a jealous murderer who is done in by the couple he kills, thanks to a clever use of the tides. There is the mysterious crate which may or may not have a hairy monster in it. There is a weird and tragic and lonely story about a country bumpkin who, thanks to a meteor, begins turning into a plant. And, of course, there are those cockroaches. Damn those cockroaches.

 

The TV Shows

 

5) “Monsters” (1988 -1990)

NOTE: I came seriously close to including “Friday the 13^th: The Series” in this slot, seeing as it’s kind of a lost classic that is ripe for re-discovery. And despite it’s very solid monster-of-the-week premise, I decided that the connective material was too strong to really count it as an anthology series. Too bad. I’ll just take this time to recommend the show. Be sure, also to stay away from the little-known and hard-to-find anthology series “Freddy’s Nightmares,” inspired, as it was, by “A Nightmare on Elm Street.” It’s not a very good show. Although it is a curiosity.

 

The conceit of “Monsters” was simple: Every week we had another poor beleaguered hero who was set upon by a different monster of some kind. There were the usual ones: werewolves, vampires, mummies. But there were more often a more creative bevvy of weirdos and freaks. I think the first episode of the show involves a giant space alien, and the second an intelligent robot. For a show about creatures, it was refreshing to see the creators try to make new monsters stick, rather than simply retooling older ones. In the age of the sparkling and/or sexed-up angsty vampires, this is a relief.

 

This show came on cable TV, which I didn’t have at home, so managing to stay up late and catch episode in motel rooms while I traveled was a delight. Plus it gave me nightmares. What more do you want? The one about the killer telephone still creeps me out. Or was that “Tales from the Darkside?”

4) “The Outer Limits” (1963 – 1965)

Sort of like a sci-fi heavy version of “The Twilight Zone,” “The Outer Limits” seemed to have more speculative horror on its mind than its contemporaries. Not content to have moral lessons or eerie scares, “The Outer Limits” was more focused on weird special effects, monsters, and aliens. It was “the Outer Limits” that first televised Isaac Asimov’s famous “I, Robot” story (starring a pre-”Star Trek” Leonard Nimoy), and was one of the earliest TV shows I saw to feature stop-motion animation.

 

“The Outer Limits” was easier to take than “The Twilight Zone” as well. Rather than the forceful moralizing of Serling’s show, “The Outer Limits” would try to come up with a new creative monster every week. The Zanti Misfits were particularly creepy. For a little boy who is bored at home watching reruns on the UHF stations, finding these monsters was a treasure trove. The Zone was all well and good for celebrity cameos and interesting stories and great writing, but the Limits was where we got to see creatures wreaking havoc.

 

I guess this makes the show seem more like a sci-fi action anthology series than outright horror, but the stories did each have twist endings, and the monsters were always kind of scary. So I think it counts. Of the hundreds of “Twilight Zone” ripoffs, this one was clearly the best.

 

3) “Eerie, Indiana” (1991 -1992)

Starting in the late 1980s, there seemed to be just as many anthology horror series for children as there were for adults. Thanks to the immense popularity of the Goosebumps books, conceived by author R.L. Stine, there was a great period in the early 1990s where kids got horror shows for themselves. It was during this time that we saw the TV version of “Goosebumps,” “The Nightmare Room,” “Are You Afraid of the Dark?,” “The Haunting Hour,” “So Weird,” and “Bone Chillers.”

 

The latter of these was probably my favorite, as “Bone Chillers” was conceived and directed by Richard Elfman, the mad genius behind weird-ass cult films like “Forbidden Zone” and “Shrunken Heads.” If you’ve seen his films, imagine that same sensibility applied to a low-budget horror series, and geared toward kids, and you’ll have a show that’s perfect to get high to.

 

The best of this wave of children’s horror, though, was probably “Eerie, Indiana,” a show about a young boy (Omri Katz) as he discovers increasingly bizarre occurrences in his small town. While the show did follow one young boy, I got the distinct impression that the creators tried really hard to leave him out of the picture as much as they could. It was the monsters that they really wanted to focus on. But that’s the thing about the show: It wasn’t just about monsters. It was about things like hyper-intelligent robots, or a mad being who keeps track of “lost” items.

 

In the shows’ best episode, a cursed record turntable begins to influence the mind of a local boy. He turns into an asshole metalhead, much to chagrin of his family. Our hero soon discovers that the record is implanting subliminal messages into the head of the listener, depending on their personal insecurities. At the end of the episode, we learn from the turntable that the boy has been abused by his father. It’s actually a brilliant revelation, and is not cheap in the very-special-episode kind of way that TV shows for kids usually pander to. It’s on DVD, and your better video stores will have them. Rent them.

 

2) “The Twilight Zone” (1959 – 1964)

I need say little about “The Twilight Zone,” other than to re-stress that it is perhaps one of the best TV shows ever produced. Like ever. Seriously. Watch it. Rent the videos. They’re also available on the Netflix streaming feature, if you prefer. If you don’t know the show, I will let it speak for itself.

 

1) Tales from the Crypt” (1989 – 1996)

In terms of quality, “Tales from the Crypt” was hit-and-miss. In terms of its impact, well, “Tales from the Crypt” is probably the most consistently successful TV shows in TV history. No show had a better rotating cast of celebrities, better inspiration for material, better gut-churning gore, better nudity, and better scares than this infamous HBO show.

 

Like “Creepshow,” it was inspired by the famous EC comics with titles like “Shock SuspenStories,” and “Two-Fisted Crime Tales,” but it actually bothered to cleave closer to the twisted mechanics o the originals. Indeed, even a lot of the images were taken directly from the comics. Each episode was kind of the same, as they all involved revenge or comeuppance. An evil person would be driven to kill (out of greed or lust, usually), and they would, usually through supernatural means, be killed in turn. As the show progressed, though, the dynamic became increasingly weird, until we were stuck with episodes like the one where Don Rickles’ conjoined twin fused itself to Bobcat Goldthwait’s hand.

 

That’s another thing: In the 1990s, it seemed like “Tales from the Crypt” was a hoop through which most any actor would have to inevitably jump. Almost any recognizable actor you know has probably appeared on “Tales from the Crypt” at some point. I don’t want to list them all, as it would take up too much space.

 

What’s more, since it aired om HBO, “Tales from the Crypt” was free to show as much sex and gore as they liked. This meant that they could actually show severed limbs, stabbings, zombies, and other gooey horrors that an eager 14-year-old is hoping to be terrified by. Catching glimpses of a chainsaw death in the lurid anthology context provided thrills that is difficult to describe. And when they weren’t chainsawing one another, we would often have daring actresses disrobing for the camera. In an age where pornography wasn’t online yet, catching glimpses of these topless women was a thrill unheard of in the real world. “Tales from the Crypt” in an enormously important show, and perhaps the best anthology horror series.

 

Honorable Mentions:

Movies:

– Cat’s Eye

– Two Evil Eyes

– Tales from the Darkside: The Movie

– Tales from the Crypt

– Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors

– Creepshow 2

 

TV Shows: 

– Tales from the Darkside

– ‘Way Out

– Night Gallery

– Alfred Hitchcock Presents

– The Hitchhiker

– Masters of Horror

 

Witney Seibold can be read in chapters on his ‘blog, Three Cheers For Darkened Years! Which he really needs to update. He is half the voice of The B-Movies Podcast. He is the ersatz professor on The Free Film School. He is one of the starts of the new web series The Trailer Hitch. 

 

 

 Halloween! Yay! Halloween! Woo! Halloween! I love it! I love Halloween. Maybe it’s because I peaked at age 10 or so, but I have deep affection for the Halloween traditions. To this day I still love gathering a costume, I still love to chew on way candy corns, I love to buy whatever pumpkin flavored trinkets various retails outlets are offering (the pumpkin pancake mixes and the pumpkin milkshakes are particularly good). I never tire of “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” And I love the feeling of pumpkin goop on my hands.

 

 Indeed, so much of the average Halloween-obsessive’s affection can directly stem from positive childhood experiences. I probably wouldn’t be so keen on the holiday today had I not had such a good time trick-or-treating in my ladybug outfit. Yeah, I went as a ladybug one year. You wanna make something of it? I also was always fascinated with horror movies, even when I was of the age that watching horror movies was terrifying and nightmare-inducing. I’ve written in the past of that horrible fucking clown from “Poltergeist” burning holes in the sanity of stern children everywhere.

 

 Rather than sit through another dull slasher, though, or re-watch “The Shining” for the 15^th time, this week I’d like to recommend the following kid-friendly horror films, books and stories to re-ignite early childhood nostalgia, and remind you how much fun it is to be scared, even if the movie in question is decidedly friendly and merely spooky. And I’ll say this: sometimes playfully spooky can be more memorable, more fun and sometimes even a bit scarier, than some bland gore-fest or geek show like “The Human Centipede.”

 

 I’ve come up with ten for the purpose of this list, but if there was a television special, movie, book or story you were particularly fond of, let me know what it was. I think an outright database of Children’s Horror is definitely needed in this world. N.B. So as to not be redundant, I will leave “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” and “Poltergeist” off of this list for the time being. This list will also be stemming rather directly from my own childhood experiences, so if I skew a bit older, it was because I watched old TV specials in the early ‘80s.

 

The Groovie Ghoulies (1970-1972)

 

 

 

This was a cheap animated series from Filmation, the same studio that brought us “He-Man and the Master of the Universe,” and the animated “Star Trek” show. The show was about a group of hipster rock star monsters who were tangentially friends with Sabrina, the Teenage Witch. Like its contemporaries from Hanna Barbera, “The Groovie Ghoulies” banked on hot pop culture references, and did an arch send-up of 1950s sitcom situations. The Ghoulies were themselves a group of monsters (based, as is universal, on the Universal monsters), who played in a rock band, and lived in a boarding house specially for spooks. The Dracula character, named Drac, was played by Larry Storch from “F-Troop.” The Wolf Man character, named Wolfie, was a clear impersonation of Cheech.

 

While most kids, especially kids today, will be lost upon the sitcom parody, and probably don’t know who Cheech Marin is, unless they bothered to buy that record he did, they’ll certainly dig the friendly monsters, the wacky ghosts, and the general sense of spookiness that the show exudes. Like I said, it’s cheap (the laugh track can grate on one’s nerves), but it’s still fun. It’s certainly a sight better than “Scooby-Doo,” which also dealt with ghosts and haunted houses, but was just a twinge more insufferable in comparison. I’d rather kids see this little pop-culture oddity instead.

 

Filmation, by the way, were the producers of the 1986 “Ghostbusters” cartoon that you didn’t watch. You remember the one. Not the one to feature the characters from the movie, but the retread of the ultra-obscure 1975 sitcom that just happened to share a title with the hit 1984 feature film.

 

General Mills’ Monster Cereals (1975 – present) 

 

 

 Oh how those horrible sugary cereals defined our lives as children. Have you tried something like Lucky Charms today? How did that somehow mutate into an acceptable breakfast food? It has marshmallows in it! And how come so many of them are flavored like chocolate? I like chocolate, but even as a kid, I tried to wait until at least 11am to have candy. Well, when I had the willpower. O.k. Maybe I would have loved to have chocolate for breakfast. Of the sugary cereals that have left the deepest impression on the average Gen-Y pop-culture consciousness, the Monster Cereals from General Mills probably is the most vividly remembered.

To this day, certain grocery stores carry Count Chocula, with the chocolate cereal and chocolate marshmallows (and they’re really bland without at least a half punt of brown sugar and a few ounces of maple syrup). Frankenberry is a strawberry version of the same cereal. Boo Berry is blueberry. From 1975 to 1983, there was a wolf man cereal called Fruit Brute, supposedly lime flavored, although I have not had the pleasure of eating it. Nor have I been directly exposed to Yummy Mummy, which was just Fruit Brute rebranded in 1987. And while the cereal itself is the nutritional equivalent of feeding your kids cake frosting, there was something fun about having monsters in the kitchen. Aiding the mythology was a series of animated commericals advertising the stuff, all featuring the monsters and their various adventures.

A friend of mind recently posited that, since they all appear to live in the same haunted cereal castle, that there was a subtle interplay between the monsters for control of some cereal kingdom. Of the three, I think I always fell on the side of Boo Berry. The ghost looked the coolest to me, and appeared to be the underdog.

 

The Halloween Tree (1972)

 

Conceived as a screenplay for an unproduced Chuck Jones feature film, Ray Bradbury’s The Halloween Tree was published in book form in 1972. Bradbury sought to write the ultimate Halloween story, and tried, like a friendly old and slightly uncool schoolteacher, to educate the young whippersnappers in the origins of Halloween, and the various spooky costumes therein. He didn’t just want to teach people about “The Mummy” movies, but actually tell them about the mummification rite from ancient Egypt. Episodic and educational may not sound like very appealing storytelling devices for you at the age you are, but it makes for a dandy structure for kids. Plus, it lets them know why we dress as vampires and beg for candy.

The story is about a group of eight kids, all in various costumes, eager to meet a ninth for a merry night of trick-or-treating. They find that he may have been kidnapped by a mysterious warlock named Moundshroud, and have to climb a giant spooky tree full of jack-o-lanterns to get him back. The tree, in turn, magically whisks each of them through time to explore the origins of their respective costumes.It’s a briskly written and atmospheric little kids’ tale that should be read every year.

In 1992, an animated TV movie was made of The Halloween Tree, and while the animation is kind of crude, and the voice work is boilerplate Saturday Morning (the presence of Leonard Nimoy notwithstanding), it stands above most of its ilk.

 

Which Witch? (1970)

 

 

 Picture that awesome board game Mouse Trap, but set it in a haunted house, and you’ll have an idea of how awesome this game was. I hadn’t heard of it until recently, but my wife remembers playing it as a wee lass, and we managed to track one down in a mostly-complete form. The game was an elaborately constructed cardboard house, complete with a plastic staircase and a chimney. Your goal was to work your way through the four quadrants of the house, avoiding witch spells that would turn you into a mouse, and to dodge the marble. The marble was dropped into the chimney, and would randomly land in one of the four rooms. If it knocked over your token, you had to move back.

 

As adults, board games must be massively complicated, and have huge amounts of critical strategy involved to keep our serious attention and challenge us. As kids, it’s enough to work your way around a circle. But add the elaborate construction of a cardboard haunted house, and you’ve added something magical. And while you’ll be hard pressed to track down this game yourself, there are plenty of online boardgaming communities that have the game detailed to the nth degree. You’re older now, and have access to the right tools. It’s possible for you to construct a game like this yourself.

 

In the 1990s, the game was repackaged as a “Real Ghostbusters” game.

 

The Thief of Always (1992) 

 

 

Young Henry Swick is bored to the point of near-insanity. Luckily for the impetuous youth, he has just been invited to Hood House, a mysterious fog-enshrouded mansion in his neighborhood, to stay for as long as he likes. The house can only be found if you are guided there. Once you are inside, all of your greatest fantasies are brought to life by the mysterious, unseen Mr. Hood. Every night is Halloween night, and every morning is Christmas morning. Your favorite foods are provided. It shouldn’t take a very sophisticated reader to see that Mr. Hood is up to something far more sinister.

 

Clive Barker’s 1992 young adult novel, which is a modern retelling of the Hansel & Gretel story, is perhaps, despite his huge accomplishments in other genres, Barker’s most solidly-written novel. I certainly felt that way when I read the book at age 14. The book is misty and weird, and teeters right on the edge of childhood horror, and legitimate nightmarish adult violence. It never, however, loses it fable-like qualities, leaving us really close to the childhood imagination. Barker was perhaps best known for his bloody tales of twisted sex and bodily horror. The Thief of Always proves his other strengths when he is being restrained.

 

For many years, there was a plan to make a Thief of Always feature film, animated by the same team that made “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” but it ended up being stymied in production Hell. Eventually, Neil Gaiman was to author a very similar book called Coraline, and that book would be adapted to film much more quickly. Both stories mirror Hansel & Gretel, so I am loath to imply that Gaiman ripped off Barkerm but the similarities are pretty uncanny.

 

“The Monster Mash” (1962) 

 

Entering any specialty Halloween store these days will reveal a slew of cheaply-produced Halloween CDs, often hanging out by the checkout register, featuring re-tooled versions of movie theme songs, and mildly talented studio musicians re-singing spooky hits, and maybe, occasionally, trying to compose their own. I have picked up a few of these here and there, and can say with confidence that they are rarely good. Occasionally you’ll find something produced by Elvira, or a spooky sound effects CD that actually adds to ambiance, but for the most part, these CDs are pretty crappy.

Luckily for us, ever since 1962, we have had Bobby “Boris” Pickett and The Cryptkickers’ Halloween anthem “The Monster Mash” to carry each of those crappy CDs into a realm of moderate respectability. It is a song that is very dear to my childhood, and can easily put any toddler on the road to future of horror fandom with a single play. “The Monster Mash,” about a party of monsters, is catchy, silly, a little dumb, but has become such a powerful Halloween institution, that it’s practically unthinkable to imagine a Halloween without it. If there are any Halloween Carols, this would be the biggest.

 

Yes, there is a musical film based on it. Yes, countless others have covered it. But there’s something pure and spooky about the song that the imitators cannot trump. Seriously, mang. “The Monster Mash.”

 

“Mad Monster Party” (1967)

 

 

I’m sorry to repeat this particular film two weeks in a row (I mentioned it in last week’s “White Sheep” article), but I did see this film on TV as a young child, and it was a hugely impactful film. It cemented my nascent love for stop-motion animation, and indulged my little boy desires to see monsters without scaring me too much. Watching the film again shows not only the skilled-yet-old-timey animation from Rankin & Bass, but also seemed to reveal the inner guts of the entire Goth movement. If it weren’t for “Mad Monster Party,” you see, there would be no Tim Burton. With no Tim Burton, there would be no Goth movement. We may still have had Bauhaus or The Cure, but an entire subculture owes their existence to this film.

 

 The story is pretty plain: A beleaguered Dr. Frankenstein wants to give control of the world’s Monster League to his long lost nephew, upsetting Dracula, The Bride, the voluptuous Francesca, and the rest of the monsters. Felix, the nephew, is a plain-spoken Jimmy Stewart type who fecklessly deflects the attacks of the various monsters. The animation is a bit crude by today’s standards, but still imminently watchable. The gags are dumb, and the presence of Phyllis Diller will mean nothing to little tykes. But if you’re a fan of the Rankin/Bass Christmas cartoons, then “Mad Monster Party” is required viewing in October.

 

“The Nightmare Before Christmas” (1993)

 

It’s o.k. to include one ringer, right?

I don’t think I need to describe Tim Burton’s and Henry Selick’s now-classic 1993 film to anyone at this point, as it seems to have permeated culture in a way that only Disney seems to be able to do. The film is dark, spooky, and is possessed of an aggressively idiosyncratic style that has not been reproduced (that film version of James and the Giant Peach notwithstanding). The score by Danny Elfman is offbeat and seems to be deliberately imperfect, making for songs that, while not necessarily hummable, still manage to be earworms. Even the story, about a skeleton who escapes Halloween to take over Christmas for one year, seems a bit shoddy. But, y’know, in a punk rock sort of way. In high school, my peers and I, proto-Goth and theater-obsessed, repeated lines from this film obsessively. It was watched every October. “Mad Monster Party” was the origin of the Goth movement, but “The Nightmare Before Christmas” was its terminal velocity.

It became a cult byword, this film. It wasn’t until six or seven years had passed that Disney began to bank on the film’s growing cult, and soon started licensing “Nightmare” merchandise to teenagers. Now you see striped socks and Jack Skellington’s face in every Hot Topic in the country. Some of the merchandising (as it always is) is insufferable. But the film itself is a new classic for the kids. Scary, weird, awesome.

 

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (1981)

 

 

 I’ve seen plenty of books geared toward children that mean to spook them a little bit, and give them something to repeat around a campfire. The vast bulk of these books, however, just don’t have the right balance of tones. They’re either too scary (which leads me to suspect their secretly geared toward teens), or they’re too silly to be spooky at all, making for cynical 6-year-olds to dismiss them.

 

There was, however, one book that, at least in my childhood, seemed to get it just right. Something that was simple enough for kids, and scary enough to give nightmares, but without traumatizing them. That was Alvin Schwartz’ 1981 classic Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, perhaps the best anthology horror book for children ever written, and perhaps the finest example of children’s horror. As I said, it struck the balance. The stories, despite being written in 1981, felt like they had dust one them; like they were old and classical. The writing was just succinct enough. I realize that this may have been more the age at which I personally discovered the book, and less the actual writing (I haven’t revisited the tales since college), but it was clearly doing something right.

 

What was just as important as the writing, though were the REALLY FUCKING CREEPY pencil illustrations by Stephen Gammell. Gammell’s drawing were all sticky, dead things, coating in strands of inky blood, and appeared to be coated in dry, dry dust. The skies were misty and grey. The creatures seemed to be made of actual rotting flesh. One drawing in particular, of a nose-less, eye-less zombie ghoul woman, was featured in several of my nightmares. There was a period in elementary school where I couldn’t go a day without seeking out that picture just top freak myself out again.

 

 

Kids, I have said before, like to be scared more than they let on. It’s fun to be scared. That’s why Halloween is so enjoyable. Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark is the perfect exemplar of fun scares for kids. Pleasant nightmares.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a ghoul living in a giant spooky mansion at the end of the road. It is said he eats little children who wander too far from home. If you walk by the mansion at night, you can see his shadow in the window above, peering out into the street, dreaming of victims to drag inside. He has a movie review ‘blog – which he updates perhaps too infrequently, called Three Cheers for Darkened Years! He is also half the voice of The B-Movies Podcast on Crave Online.

           

 

There is a curious phenomenon in certain horror films that I would like to officially dub The White Sheep Syndrome. In most any film that features a family of killers, or a pack of monsters (or just a general mash of groovy ghoulies), there tends to be, just for balance I suppose, a single “Normal” amongst them; that one person who seems to look like a regular, everyday Joe. The one who dresses in plain clothes, and speaks like a normal human being, but seems completely comfortable living amongst the creatures of the night. These people will invariably also take just as much relish in fear and death as the rest of the their more mutated and monstrous clan, but will bother to dress like the rest of the civilized society.

Aside from aesthetic reasons, I think the creators of White Sheep throw them in for one of two reasons. Either the White Sheep will be there to offer some comic juxtaposition; how funny is it to see a poodle skirt next to a wolf boy? Or they’ll be used for something far more chilling: they’ll be an emissary from the world of darkness they inhabit, sent out into the world to seduce and eat unsuspecting victims who would never suspect this hot chick is really a monster in disguise.

I have brainstormed, and come up with the following list of White Sheep, some spooky, some silly, for us to look at and ponder.

 

10) Darla

from “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation” (1997)

The fourth in the “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” series made me feel, when I saw it back in 1997, like an empty, ashamed, hollow shell of a man. I’ve reached a point in my life when I can see just about any bad film you have without batting an eye, so it’s rare when a bad film actually makes me feel sad, sticky and depressed. “The Texas chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation,” (also “The Return of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre”) was actually made back in 1994, but shelved for obvious reasons. It wasn’t until its two stars, Renée Zellweger and Matthew McConaughey achieved fame (each about 1996) that the producers decided to release it on home video, hence, it didn’t see light of day until ’97. That’s when I saw it. That’s when I wept.

In the film, we have our expected cadre of filthy, cannibal hillbillies, living in a secret shack, out in the boonies of the Lone Star State, and the poor dejected teenager (Zellweger) who accidentally ends up in said shack’s vicinity. The evil family is run by the maniacal Vilmer Slaughter (McConaughey) who has a robot leg controlled with a joystick. No lie. And, the emissary to the world is a busty, seductive bisexual lady cop named Darla (played by Tonie Perensky), who flirts with our heroine, banters with the locals, and then goes home to gnaw on strips of homemade human jerky. At the outset, she seems like a regular old playful sexual predator. It’s not until later in the film that we learn that she’s part of this family of hicks. If she’s pretty, and can “pass” in the world of the normals, I have to wonder why she bothers to remain in a filthy house full of human detritus. But never mind. She’s most certainly the White Sheep of the family.

 

9) Boy

from “Little Monsters” (1989)

According to the mythology of the 1989 Fred Savage vehicle “Little Monsters,” the monsters that live under your bed are real, and they use the darkness under your bed and dimensional portals to the monster realm. The monster realm is every 11-year-old boy’s dream: no parents, no rules, free games of baseball, free candy and junk food all the time, free video arcades, and pinball machines that never TILT. The only downside is that if you stay there too long, you become a monster yourself. Monsters, it turns out, can’t live in the real world, as sunlight kills them, and electric light make them turn into dirty laundry. Which is kind of a stupid detail, but whatever.

The monsters are all strangely-colored, be-horned, be-boiled weirdos with fangs and claws. The main monster in the film Maurice (Howie Mandel) has blue skin and two ridged prongs sticking out of his head. As we learn later, though, the leader of the monster realm is an overgrown schoolboy named, simply, Boy (a 26-year-old Frank Whaley). And while he projects an air of authority and dreadful menage, he looks like a regular kid. Boy is only a terrible monster on the inside. On the outside, he could easily pass for a Normal. It was clever of the director to cast a youthful-looking adult in the role, as it adds to the character’s eerie strangeness.

 

8) Adam Kesher

in “Mulholland Dr.” (2001)

“Mulholland Dr.” is often considered one of David Lynch’s biggest triumphs, seeing as how it grossed millions, and netted a few Academy Award nominations. When coming up with lists of the best films of the ’00s, “Mulholland Dr.” is usually on it. This is especially odd, given that it was a re-jiggered TV pilot, adapted for feature release after a lucky studio deal. The film takes place in a bizarre, well, Lynchian universe, where there is fear and dread hanging in the air. Mysterious human-like being appear often, and dribble out cryptic pieces of strange, strange dialogue. There is a ghost-like cowboy, the tar monster behind Johnie’s on Wilshire, the dwarf-headed studio exec, and the coffee-hating producer. Even the “normals” in this universe seem to behave with a surreal affect; both Naomi Watts and Laura Harring seem perpetually scared.

But then, through all of this surreal chaos comes Justin Theroux, who plays the beleaguered director Adam. Theroux’s acting style is one of natural, sarcastic flipness. He looks as the weirdness around him, and sees it for how strange it is. In a world where everyone is a darkened cipher of human emotion, Adam Kesher seems like the only one who had his feet on the ground. He may not belong to a family of killers, but I think he counts as a White Sheep, merely because he’s the only one who seems to be thinking clearly.

 

7) Georgina

from “The Murder Family” featured in Dork Comics (1993)

This one wins the obscurity prize this week.

Evan Dorkin, some readers of Geekscape may know, is the violent-minded comics author behind such underground titles as “Milk & Cheese,” and “Hectic Planet.” When he writes, he seems to be giving vent to his basest, alcohol-fuel violence fantasies. Even when he works in the mainstream (as with the “Bill & Ted” comics, or Marvel’s one-shot “Fight Man” in 1993) his sensibility is still a little warped. He is also known for contributing material to “Space Ghost Coast to Coast,” so you can see where he’s coming from.

One of the features in his long-running “Dork” title was a one-joke sitcom spoof called “The Murder Family,” which featured violent punk rock types, and angry aerial killers getting into wacky, comic situations, complete with intentionally lame plotting and intentionally corny jokes (Dorkin even wrote in a laugh track). And while the family all typically looked like dangerous killers (sometimes even hauling around severed limbs with them in public), the youngest of the family, Georgina, looked like Little Orphan Annie, complete with round, empty eyeballs. She was only in elementary school, and seemed to be in a perpetually good mood, even when she was faced with the violent atrocities committed by her family. She also wasn’t above occasionally taxidermying the teachers than threatened to call the cops. In a house of murderous hicks, Georgina was an angel.

 

6) Willow

from “The Wicker Man” (1973)

They live on an island. They’re up to something. They insist that the missing girl never existed. They are guarded. They worship some strange unseen deity and, as anyone who has seen Robin Hardy’s 1973 classic knows, occasionally make sacrifices to it. These are the natives of a tiny, rarely-visited British isle who have lived in cult-like isolation for decades. It’s terrible to be stuck in a house with a family of killers, but an entire island would only make things spookier. And pay no attention to the notorious 2006 remake (you’ve likely seen the clips online). This one is actually rather scary.

Edward Woodward plays a cop who is investigating on this island. His central opposition is the creepy holy man Lord Summerilse, played by Christopher Lee. As is typical of films of this ilk, all the people he meets are evasive and obtuse. They wear blank expressions, and sometimes seem a little too polite for their own good. The only person who seems to get Woodward’s attention is the curvy and gorgeous Willow, played by famed Swedish sexbomb Britt Ekland. And while she does give off a creepy vibe, you do get the impression that she’s often sent into the real world to lure people back there. And who could resist, really? The film is notorious for a nude dance scene where Ekland gyrates her buttock on the other side of Woodward’s bedroom wall (although, if you look closely, a body double was used for a few of the shots). What better way to conceal your psychopath status than to be a world-famous Swedish model?

5) Cotton Johnson

from “Pink Flamingos” (1972)

The Johnson family currently holds the title of Filthiest People Alive. It is unclear who has given them this appellation, but it is well known in the Filth community, and envied by other reprobates. Babs Johnson (Divine) is a fat transvestite-looking woman who fellates her son, steals meat, kills cops, and eats both human flesh and dog shit. Her son, Crackers (Danny Mills), rapes women in the family chicken shack and simultaneously kills the chickens therein. The matron of the family, Edie (Edith Massey), is a gross weirdo who lives in a crib and obsesses about eggs. When it comes to horrible families, they don’t get much more horrible.

The White Sheep of the family seems to be Cotton, played by John Waters regular Mary Vivian Pearce. Cotton is a cheery and pretty blonde who, when compared to the depravities of her family, doesn’t seem to do much. Sure, she may hook on the side, and do the horrible chores of her mother, and she may talk at the end of “Pink Flamingos” about shaving her head and becoming a bull-dyke, but she’s seems to be merely amused by the antics around her. Were it not for her unstaunched interest in the utterly depraved, it’s likely she would just be a Normal herself.

 

4) Francesca

from “Mad Monster Party” (1967)

This film seems to have slipped in obscurity in recent years, so I would like to bring it up, just to give it some more limelight. “Mad Monster Party” was a feature film made by Rankin and Bass (the people behind the famed 1964 TV special “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and, later, animated classics like “The hobbit” and “The Last Unicorn”). It was released in theaters to capture the Halloween audience the same way that their TV special had the Christmas audience. It wasn’t as big a hit, but, thanks to heavy TV rotation in the mid 1980s, many people my age saw this little curio as children. The result is a small but passionate cult following of grown geeks like myself, who insist on declaiming it a classic. You would do well to watch it this year. With your kids or by yourself. It’ll get the Halloween juices flowing.

The story follows a Jimmy Stewart-like nerd named Felix, who is called the Monster Island by his long lost uncle, Dr. Frankenstein. Frankenstein, you see, is the head of a league of monsters which includes famous beasts like Dracula, the Wolf Man, the Invisible Man, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and a sassy Bride (played by the legendary Phyllis Diller). And while Frankenstein seems to have entire teams of zombie slaves (including a Peter Lorre lookalike), his only real invaluable assistant is a curvy redhead named Francesca. It’s Francesca’s job to send out invitations, organize, and keep things copacetic between the monsters. She’s the executive assistant of the damned. And while she does come up with evil plots to kill Felix, and teams up with Dracula to do him in, she comes across as a mere hardworking office wonk with a nice paycheck to keep her in hot, clingy dresses. She seems unfazed by the fact that there are supernatural beasts around her. In a world of Mad Monsters, she’s a sane, put-upon secretary.

 

3) Baby Firefly

from “House of 1000 Corpses” (2003)

I was one of maybe 15 people who managed to see Rob Zombie’s horror pastiche “House of 1000 Corpses” in theaters. The film was a mish-mash of all the horror films that Zombie watched on late-night network TV growing up, and contained some genuinely original spooky crap as well; Dr. Satan the killer cyborg anyone? The film wasn’t fun, and only seemed to hint at the talent Zombie would later display in the film’s pseudo-sequel “ The Devil’s Rejects” two years later. “House” seems to be most closely modeled on “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” as it featured a dangerous family of ignorant hicks who would lure unsuspecting college-age travelers into their pits of torture and doom. But not before stitching them to fish or dressing them in bunny costumes or some other damn thing

Like Darla up at the head of the article, the family (jokingly calling themselves “Firefly” after Groucho Marx’s character from “Duck Soup”) seemed to have a token babe they would send out into the world to seduce Normals. This was Baby, played by Rob Zombie’s real-life wife Sheri Moon, a real-life stripper. Baby was a cruel and horrible person, to be sure, and had a great time cackling at people as they writhed in pain (her “evil baby” voice is horrible and grating), but she also seemed to know how to dress, how to put on makeup, and put aside her more murderous instincts when out in public. Her family seemed addicted to making flesh masks and wearing creepy clown makeup. Baby was, on the other hand, capable of disguise. She was also hot, in a country-western-death-metal-Goth sort of way.

 

2) Debbie Jellinsky

from “Addams Family Values” (1993)

She was actually an interloper, that Debbie Jellinsky (Joan Cusack), forcing the Addams Family’s beloved Uncle Fester (Christopher Lloyd) to leave the beloved family mansion, and live in *choke* domestic bliss. She was, as it was eventually revealed, only after the Addams fortune, and had a secret plan to do them all away. This made her a horrible monster that was only out to murder a family of being that was already obsessed with pain and death. But y’know, in a fun way. I so very much love The Addams Family in all its incarnations, so I was a little taken aback in 1993 to see a wicked woman try to take them out.

What earned Debbie a spot on this list is not only her milquetoast, blueblood first name, but her look. She was always dressed in 1950s housedresses, bulletproof hairdos, and impeccable makeup. Her greed, however, led her to commit some horrible atrocities, just so she could be considered part of the family; for instance, she dug up a corpse just to pilfer the ring on its bony finger. She could have passed as normal, were it not for her murdering. Here’s the irony: the very death wish that drove her out of the family was the very morbid interest that would have had her welcome into it.

 

1) Marilyn Munster

from “The Munsters” (1964 – 1966)

Inferior to the Addams Family in just about every way (expect for, perhaps, their awesome theme music) The Munsters were a sitcom version of the famed Universal monsters. Frankenstein’s monster was now a big lovable galoot named Herman, and his bride was a doting housewife. Their son was a wolf boy, and grandpa was a an old Dracula-type. Even the housepet was an unseen dragon who lived under the staircase. I did watch reruns o f”The Munsters” as a kid, so I have a certain nostalgic affection for the show. It’s been kid of a relief that they’ve never been pilfered for reboots or remakes. Never. THEY NEVER HAVE.

(i.e. If you bring up “The Munsters Today,” I will burn your house down)

But the one odd an most creative conceit of “The Munsters,” and, indeed, the inspiration for this list, was the strange inclusion of a pretty bikini model named Pat Priest to play the family’s White Sheep, Marilyn. Marilyn was, for all effective purposes, a typical, wide-eyed co-ed, interested in malt shops, dating boys, sock-hops, and that new-fangled rock ‘n’ roll music. She was like a bland extra from a “Gidget” movie escaped into a Halloween-themed alternate universe. As far as I can tell, Marilyn was the first use of the White Sheep, and, hence, all the people on this list owe a debt of gratitude to her.

Also, from what I understand, Marilyn was the source of many a Gen-X childhood crush. It’s likely your father conceived you while thinking of Marilyn Munster. There’s a little ultra-creepy image to go out on.

 

Witney Seibold is a Green Sheep living in Los Angeles with his wife and his old books. If you’re at all interested, you may read his film reviews on his ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years!, or listen to his weekly rantings about movies on The B-Movies Podcast on Crave Online. 

 

 

“Real Steel” is opening this Friday. You’re probably going to see it. In the film, Hugh Jackman explains how robot fighting came to supplant human boxing as the world’s newest over-moneyed sport phenomenon: Evidently, at some point along the way, humans became so bloodthirsty, that the only way to ethically sate them was to put non-living beings in the ring. Hence the easy solution: Gigantic, easy-to-operate robot avatars.

 

The idea of robots wailing on each other is a story conceit that goes back decades. The violence produced actually might serve to feed our bloodlust. And while they don’t really bleed or grow tired like humans would, there is something very basic and satisfying about watching two super-powered human-shaped machines clanging untiring fists into each other’s heads. What’s more, robots typically have weapons hidden within their metals chasses, making for a much more creative form of ultimate fighting. As an overgrown 10-year-old, I squealed with glee all through “Real Steel,” loving every  minutes of the dumb-ass robot mayhem.

 

Since it’s all on our minds, I have devised the following list of fighting robots to have leaked out through our various pop culture outlets. Stand in awe as the competitors enter the ring. Here are the ten best fighting robots from pop culture.

 

10) Tik-Tok

From Tik-Tok of Oz (1914) and “Return to Oz” (1985)

 

 

Interesting bit of trivia: Tik-Tok, as conceived by L. Frank Baum, is often considered to be the first robot in all of literature, even though the term “robot” wasn’t used until 1920.

 

Tik-Tok was a big round ball-shaped machine man, made of brass, that had to be wound up to operate. His thoughts required a wind, his voice required a wind, and his physical movements needed a wind. When allowed to run down, he would stand inert until operated again. Given his rounded shape, and, as depicted in the 1985 film, ungainly manner of walking, one would assume that Tik-Tok was unable to fight with any sort of efficiency, but, as proven through a scene where he fights off a pack of vicious Wheelers, he can easily dispatch even the wiliest of enemies with his spinning torso and aplomb at wielding an empty lunchpail.

 

What’s more, Tik-Tok was a fun, blustery Colonel Blimp type, who could regale you with stories of many oddball Oz wars, buy you a beer, and treat you with chivalry and respect. In addition to being a kick-ass robot, Tik-Tok was friendly uncle.

 

9) The FemBots

From “Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery” (1997)

 

 

The FemBots, as maintained by the wicked cadre of Dr. Evil, served two geek wish-fulfillment functions. They not only were powerful battle droids, capable of unexpectedly shooting men with their nipple guns, but they fulfilled our desire for a programmable hot, blond, 1960s sex slave robot. I admit that the sentence I just typed is probably one of the strangest.

 

There is something pure about the FemBots. They seem to be programmed to do two things. They can dance in a sultry fashion to seduce men, and they can kill. In “Austin Powers in The Spy Who Shagged Me,” it was revealed that FemBots can also emulate humans – a la Cylons – and stay in disguise for years. But this detail (clearly inserted as a throwaway gag) is not as interesting as the prospect of shagging a hot blonde robo babe. Is this shallow of me? You bet.

 

8) Tranzor Z

From “Tranzor Z” (1972-1974)

 

 

Of all the dozens and dozens of Mecha anime that made its way to American shores, the only one I really paid attention to was this oddity, broadcast on public television of all things, featuring the usual human pilot sitting in the head of a giant robot avatar, doing battle with a different evil giant robot every week, and inevitably triumphing, using whatever new toy the mad scientist had just introduced. I can’t really recall what made the show extraordinary, other than its stellar action sequences, and its villain, who was, yes, a trans-gendered witch who lived in a volcano, and who could spawn killer robots to his/her heart’s content. I would love to revisit the show, but DVDs are hard to come by, and we all know what happens when we revisit our childhood cartoons.

 

Tranzor Z can also, for the function of this list, stand in for any number of hot Japanese Mecha anime that came out over the last several decades. Starting with “Gigantor” in the mid-1950s, giant robots have been a solid staple of Japanese comics and cartoon shows, to the point where it could be considered a sub-genre. I know many fans of the Gundam Wing series, not a single little boy hasn’t seen at least one episode of “Robotech,” or “Voltron: Defender of the Universe,” and I have heard peers wax rhapsodic about the virtues and poetry of the “Evangelion” shows and movies. If you will allow, I will have my obscure robot Tranzor act as ambassador for all these fighting robots.

 

7) The Iron Giant

From “The Iron Giant” (1999)

 

 

We must recall, if we want to be good geeks, that giant fighting robot traditions started in the 1950s, what with pulp sci-fi novels with titles like “Amazing Adventures!” You’ve likely seen the book covers around. They usually featured strapping, barrel-chested men with greasy hairdos doing ray-gun battle with a big-headed green alien, while a whimpering and half-stripped damsel clung to his leg. It was from these images, now leaked in the collective consciousness, that Brad Bird drew his excellent 1999 animated feature “The Iron Giant,” the tale of a young boy who has to hide and eventually befriend a gigantic robot from space.

 

The robot itself seemed kind of disconnected (he has a dent on his head), so he behaves in a friendly fashion, and finds that he admires the exploits of Superman, and likes jazz music. It’s only when the robot is attacked that his true purpose on Earth is revealed: He is a battling death robot. Like the Tripods in War of the Worlds, the robot goes on a swirling, lighting-arced rampage of death, firing lasers and stomping tanks with the best of them. Luckily for humanity, the robot has learned compassion along the way, and chooses not to be a gun. Is it me, or is a 50-foot tall metal war machine the best friend a 1950s, sci-fi-obsessed boy can have?

 

6) Anything Homemade

From “Battlebots” (2000), et al

 

 

While it’s all well and good for Hollywood to give us geek wish-fulfillment movies like “The Avengers,” I’ve always admired the geeks who bother to make their own entertainment much more. If we want to see robots battling robots, we can either wait until 2011 to see “Real Steel,” or we can tune into the soldering-fetish 2000 documentary program, where hard-working engineers would actually build their own robots, and face them off in mortal battle with competitors. These robots were not human-shaped, often sticking to solid car-like creations with low centers of gravity (to prevent flipping, you see). As the robots used hammers and saws to wait on one another, Bill Nye (the Science Guy himself) would give color commentary. This was probably one of the best shows ever.

 

What’s more, “Battlebots” had its share of peers. “Robot Wars” was the longest running of the shows, starting in England in 1998, and running until 2004. “Robotica” ran on public television and was, oddly, hosted by Ahmet Zappa, one of Frank’s sons. Also, if you’re interested in such things, I implore you to visit the website of the Survival Research Laboratories (http://srl.org/), where the creators make really dangerous looking machines, and seem to be in real peril as they clash. It’s like a hard-edged, punk-rock version of the shows listed above.

 

5) Gary Daniels

(1963 – )

 

 

You may have seen him in “The Expendables.” I have seen him in several cheesy fight movies from the 1980s. Gary Daniels (and I have written about him in the pages of Geekscape before), is a boyishly handsome and incredibly talented kickboxer and martial artist from England. He’s not the best of actors, but what he lacks in emotive talent, he more than makes up for in charm and gregariousness. What’s more, he is incredibly tough, often dispatching his foes with a flick of his fist and a well-lace face kick.

 

Why is he listed here? Well, I have seen two fight films (“Tekken,” and “Heatseeker”) where Daniels played a partly-mechanical fight ‘bot with metal body parts and a healthy ass-kicking attitude. In “Tekken,” he takes a flying kick to the face, and doesn’t budge. Movies like this, and a general impression of his toughness, leave me suspecting that Daniels is actually part robot, and was programmed to kick ass. I have no proof of this, leaving it a cockeyed conspiracy theory, but I challenge you to watch several Gary Daniels films and come up with another solution. Daniels is a robot.

 

4) Mega Man           

From “Mega Man” (1987) and dozens of others

 

 

Originally built by Dr. Light as a housecleaning robot, Mega Man was retooled to fight evil robots when the wicked Dr. Wily announced his wicked plans for world domination. Essentially a little boy in a blue bodysuit, and equipped with an outsize hand gun, Mega Man seemed to be the ultimate fighting robot, in that he couldn’t be defeated. Well, I suppose he could, but you could try again if you had another life. Mega Man also absorbed the weapons of his fallen foes, meaning that, by the end of the game, he would be super souped-up with all kinds of nifty guns and toys.

 

“Mega Man” is one of the purest of video games. Defeat bad guys. Use bad guys’ weapon on the next bad guy. Repeat until you beat the final boss. The premise of the “Mega Man” games was so solid and so easy to pick up, the formula remained largely unchanged for about a dozen games. More recent iterations of the little Blue Bomber have tried to add some heavy-handed end-of-the-world mythology to the idea of a housecleaning robot absorbing weapons in a certain sequence, but they are off-base and not as much fun. Mega Man is a little baby-faced robot with a gun hand. And somehow, he can be well-loved and kick ass.

 

3) The T-800

From “The Terminator” (1984)

 

 

Sent back in time, the Terminator is a near-indestructible machine, hidden inside a bundle of human skin that looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger, and programmed to kill one woman named Sarah Connor. The robot, however, doesn’t know what Sarah looks like, so actually bothers to go through the phone book, murdering each Sarah Connor until he gets the right one. Stoic, efficient, and well-versed in weaponry, this robot badass from the future is a horrible foe to have. Sure, the Terminator was reprogrammed to be a protector in “Terminator 2,” but we all know what’s what: Terminators are bad motherfuckers.

 

The stuff leading up to the finale is all well and good, and James Cameron made a rather notable sci-fi success with “The Terminator,” but the thing that really pushed it over the edge was the tense ending, where the human skin was burned off of the robot endoskeleton, and we get to see the wicked metal creature lurking inside. The Terminator looked like part human skeleton, and part tank. It was scary, but also wicked cool. I recently saw “Terminator Salvation,” and while it was decent for a sci-fi film, I still prefer the relative simplicity of “The Terminator.” And, of course, like everyone my age, the gorgeous visuals of “Terminator 2.”

 

2) The Robot Jox

From “Robot Jox” (1990)

 

 

I’ve mentioned “Robot Jox” before, in my article on imaginary sports, so I’ll try not to expound at too much length, only to say: DAMN! THOSE ARE AWESOME ROBOTS! AND THEY KICK ASS! Seriously. The robot effects in Stuart Gordon’s oddball sci-fi are some of the best I’ve ever seen, and I include “The Terminator” in that statement. The stop-motion animation, at least for me, gives me the feeling that these giant battling robot suits (set in grudge matches to decide international disputes) are really as hefty as they look. Stories-high robots would not, as “Robotech” would have us believe, sprightly and agile. They would be clunky and heavy and capable of killing people when they fall over.

 

Seriously, man. The Robot Jox. Awesome battle robots. Some of the best.

 

1) Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots

From the Marx toy company (1964)

 

 

Probably one of the best toys ever made, after the Slinky and Silly Putty, Marx’s Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots needs to be given credit, perhaps even more than the aforementioned 1950s pulp novels, as the ultimate origin of battling robots in the minds of several generations. Robots, in many little kids’ experience, are either heartless killing machines, or, more often, benign servants. It wasn’t until we saw those two little arm-swinging plastic robot men punching each other in the chins that we bgane to imagine the possibilities. Robots, we see, are now the ultimate fighting champions, capable of taking one another’s heads off.

 

“Real Steel” is the logical conclusion of this obsession. Kids who grew up with Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots are now making feature films with cutting-edge computer effects, and recognizable Hollywood actors. Their influence and legacy is still being felt to this day. Heck, here I am in 2011 writing an article about battling robots. Where did that all really start? With Marx. With the Red Rocker and the Blue Bomber. Robots are the champions.

 

 

HONORABLE MENTIONS

 

 

 

-Voltron/Gundam/Robotech/Gigantor/Johnny Sokko

-Super Robot Monkey Team Hyper Force Go!

-Astroboy

-That thing in “Judge Dredd”

-Kay-Em 14 from “Jason X”

-Transformers/GoBots

-ED-209 from “RoboCop”

-R.O.T.O.R. from “R.O.T.O.R.”

-Number 5, pre-lightning strike, in “Short Circuit”

-The Toy Tanks from “Toys”

-Metalhead from “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles”

-The Masked Unit from “Futurama”

–Karate Robo Zaborgar

 

 

Witney Seibold in a benevolent critic robot who runs on solar energy, milk and peanut butter. His refueling tank is in Los Angeles, CA, on the planet Earth, where he is on a continuing mission to research the human race using their movies. His reports back to his alien robot master have been posted on the internet on the website Three Cheers for Darkened Years! He also gives weekly vocal reviews as half of The B-Movies Podcast on Crave Online, and proudly shares his film theories as part of that same site’s Free Film School. He likes kittens and robots, but not robot kittens.

I generally shrink from a term like “date movie,” as it typically refers to a very certain brand of Hollywood-produced romantic comedy, marked by bland romance and unfunny comedy.  The kind of film that advertises itself as sexy and swoony, but usually only involves the uninteresting non-issues being experienced by attractive, upper-class white people.  I say, if a movie is good, and the two of you are inspire to talk, learn more about one another, or are merely seduced into bed, then it’s officially a date movie, and the presence of Jennifer Aniston be damned.  Indeed, I personally feel that horrible romances like “Valentine’s Day” tend to make for wrose date movies than something more stirring and intelligent, but perhaps that’s just me.

There are, however, most certainly a number of movies that you never, under any circumstances, want to see on a date. And I’m not just talking about gross movies, as the ones I mentioned in my Disgusting Movies article. No, I mean films that seem single-mindedly devoted to get couples to hate each other. While there are plenty of movies featuring the first tentative love of some eager youngsters who are trekking into romance for the first time, there are also a healthy handful of toxic dramas to counterbalance the treacly love with hurtful spite and hatred.

To fly in the face of the unspoken Hollywood convention of the Date Movie, I have complied the following list of films about hatred, breakup, divorce, and often outright violence between couples. Some of these movies are amazingly good, and worth a look, but do leave you depressed. Some are not so good, but leave you depressed anyway. If you’re looking to alienate a loved one, be sure to drag them to one of the following.

 

10) 5×2 (2004)

Dir. François Ozon

François Ozon is, if you’re not familiar with him, a director with something of a schizophrenic filmography. For every film he makes about sexual manipulation and bubbling resentment (“Water Drops on Burning Rocks”), he makes a lighthearted comedy or even musical about dynamic and interesting women (“Potiche”). He seems equally interested in the workings of the society of females, and also the way people use their sexuality to damn one another.

 

Of his toxic dramas, the most damning (although, sadly, least interesting) is his divorce drama “5×2,” no named because of its five-act structure involving two people. The five acts are, in what seems like an arbitrary twist, told in reverse order, so we get to see a man (Stéphane Friess) and a woman (Valeria Bruni-Tedeschi) first argue and divorce and reveal how much hatred they have for one another, and trace them backward through their alienation, bickering, everyday blandness, and eventual romantic meeting. While the film sets us up to expect an ending where their eventual meeting is blissful and wonderful, implying that time and familiarity can breed contempt, it’s actually a bit clever in the way in explains that their initial romantic meeting was actually under bad circumstances, and that they weren’t ever really right for one another.

 

Not a great film, but certainly a mean one, “5×2” might have you looking at your partner and wondering of what you’re feeling is genuine. Good job, Ozon. You broke up so many people.

 

9) Date Movie (2006)

Dir. Jason Friedberg, Aaron Seltzer

Ironically enough, one of the worst date movies of all time has to be the sickly spoof “Date Movie” from the unfortunately popular Friedberg/Seltzer camp of parodies. If you’re not familiar with their output, consider yourself fortunate. If you are, you are likely trying your hardest to forget them. When people complain about the dumbing down of America, they’re often referring directly to the baffling success of these movies.

 

Each film is marked by poorly-timed slapstick, gallons of human fluids produced for comic effect, and, most notably, a string of unremarked-upon pop culture references that assume the shock of familiarity is somehow the same as humor. This is not a clever riff on popular culture, but a mere litany of recognizable images that preceded it. However, in addition to the stultifying attempts at non-humor, these movies are also marked by an amount of all-too-organic sexism that seems to stem less form an interest in satirizing sexist attitudes, and more from a genuine hatred of women. Every one of these films features a scene in which a woman must sexually humiliate herself for “funny” reasons. It strikes me as far too ugly. If you and your date make the mistake of going to see “Date Movie,” I apologize for the dirtiness you’ll feel afterwords. If your date liked the film, perhaps it should serve as a red flag.

 

8) Bellflower (2011)

Dir. Evan Glodell

Fans of the zombie genre of films can relate to this adolescent fantasy: The world has come to an end. All of the people you love may be dead, but, by the same token, so are all the people you hate. You, a survivor, not only get to work out your frustrations on the walking dead, but you can declare yourself lord of the wasteland, and no one will be there to disagree, except for that tribe of desperate stragglers, who will look to you for protection and courage. The protagonists of the recent indie flick “Bellflower” have a similar fantasy, only it’s closer to being Lord Humongous from “The Road Warrior,” and they’re not adolescents, but in their late 20s.

 

The film is essentially about how heartbreak can feel like the apocalypse, and while the film is mostly devoted to the rise and alienation of the central couple (Glodell and Jessie Wiseman), the entire final third seems to spin into a strange hallucinatory sequence where our hero takes a homemade flame-thrower to the belongings and houses of the people who have wronged him. The film dissects exactly how horrible it feels to have your heart broken, and how easy first-time bliss can almost immediately break down into rancorous self-destruction. By the time someone shoots themselves through the head, you’ll be wanting to get away from your date as quickly as possible.

 

7) Ted Bundy (2002)

Dir. Matthew Bright

Call me sick if you must, but I’m actually very fond of this film. It depicts the life of Ted Bundy, the notorious rapist and serial killer, as if it were an overblown melodrama, full of screaming and pointedly ridiculous sexuality. In one scene, Bundy (played with scenery-chewing glee by Michael Reilly Burke) steals a potted plant just for the thrill. In another, he forces his long-suffering girlfriend to pretend she’s a corpse while he violently fucks her. In another, he bangs a chick in a crowded prison. There’s something delightfully lurid about the film. Seeing as it was directed by the maker of “Freeway,” and the co-screenwriter of “Forbidden Zone,” that should come as no surprise.

 

But Ted Bundy, much more so than other serial killers, makes for a particularly disturbing movie protagonist. He was the unleashed id of every violent-minded 13-year-old boy, who would pathologically lie, seduce, steal and commit rape with no thought of morals or empathy. His darkness comes from the immature glee he took in his sexual and deathly conquests. Any young woman seeing this film with their man will have a hard time looking at him afterwards. It’ll be hard to get laid after watching Ted Bundy mistreat and murder his bevvy of hot blondes.

 

6) Blue Velvet (1986)

Dir. David Lynch

I don’t think I’ll need to say too much on this one. We’re likely all familiar with the film’s depiction of twisted crime and sexuality bubbling eagerly under the surface of America’s suburban idylls. We’ve seen Dennis Hopper (brilliantly, mind you) suck gas from inside his jacket and do unspeakable things to the placidly submissive Isabella Rosellini. I really love “Blue Velvet,” seeing it as a return to form for David Lynch, but it’s definitely a classic to leave one with the heebie-jeebies.

 

I picture, though, the poor young teenage couple, rife with romantic possibility, wanting to try something daring and new, and going, perhaps on their second or third date, to “Blue Velvet,” not entirely knowing who David Lynch is, or what his previous films were like. I imagine them sinking into their theater seats, smiling at one another, perhaps holding hands, eagerly waiting to share this film. Not 30 minutes later, when Hopper is whining “Baby wants to fuuuuck!” and Rosellini is wandering, ghost-like and nude, through the scene, the hand-holding has stopped, and the evening is already being written off.

 

5) The Squid and the Whale (2005)

Dir. Noah Baumbach

This is actually a rather brilliant film, but a very, very tough one, especially if you were the child, as so many were, of divorced parents. This is a film about a couple (played by Jeff Daniels and Laura Linney) who, thanks to their selfishness and over-intellectualization of one another, come to be cold and casually cruel. Their two children both react to their cold separation in various socially unacceptable ways. Their 11-year-old son (Owen Kline) takes to drinking as often as possible and masturbating in public. Their 16-year-old son (Jesse Eisenberg) takes to plagiarizing papers, and adopts a hugely frustrating air on intellectual superiority, mostly in emulation of his dad. Watching Eisneberg embarrass himself with his adolescent know-it-all attitude is painful to watch.

 

No one comes across as good. Eisenberg in particular, seems to be like a nascent blowhard, but without the smarts to back up his arrogance; he refers to a story by Kafka as “Kafkaesque” at one point. His wise girlfriend point out that Kafka would kinda have to be Kafkaesque. He treats said girlfriend very poorly, and eventually dumps her in the hopes of hooking up with an older girl played by Anna Paquin, which he never does. It’s a tale of divorce, alienation, and leaving people for dumb reasons. Have a good date, kids.

 

Also, where do you think I got that image of teens going out to see “Blue Velvet?” That scene was in “The Squid and the Whale.”

 

4) Scenes from a Marriage (1973)

Dir. Ingmar Bergman

Ingmar Bergman is incapable of making anything pat or simple, choosing to wrestle with the complicated details of an extended marriage with both hands. In his famous TV miniseries (which was shortened to feature length for American audiences, and released in theaters that way), Erland Josefson and Liv Ullman play a married couple who often congratulate themselves for having such a strong marriage after ten years, and for not always bickering. But, as time passes, they begin to feel the itch, and openly discuss whether or not to open up their marriage, or to just get a divorce.

 

Eventually there are a few affairs, a lot of arguments, and a lot of theorizing on what it means to stay married for decades. There is musing on the nature of practical love, and how it can so often cleave closely to hatred. If you have the gumption, I recommend you sit and watch the entire 5-hour version. It will be eminently rewarding. Just don’t watch it with a spouse or anyone you intend on dating for an extended period, ’cause you’ll start to stare at them funny.

 

3) Your Friends & Neighbors (1998)

Dir. Neil LaBute

While there are plenty of melodramas and soap operas about couple-swapping and infidelity, I’m having trouble thinking of any such stories that are more acidic than “Your Friends & Neighbors” by Neil LaBute. His characters don’t just have flings and casually cheat on one another, but they’re actually mean about it. They seem to engage in their suburban sex games less as a way of expressing sexual desire, and more as a way of manipulating and intentionally hurting those around them. The characters in this film are all horrible people.

 

Which, of course, makes it an awesome sight, and an amazingly written film. It has a certain patois that may be described as David Mamet if he were even more focused on sexual politics. If you’re with a date, however, you’ll both start to feel icky early on. By the time you get to Jason Patric’s famous speech about the time he raped a male classmate… and loved it… well you’ll be a little ashamed to have genitals by the film’s end.

 

2) Revolutionary Road (2008)

Dir. Sam Mendes

Someone put it this way: Don’t see “Revolutionary Road” within five years of getting married. This tale of a 1950s suburban couple is one of the most intensely pessimistic films about marriage I think I’ve ever seen. Marriage, it seems to imply, only serves to stifle your soul, and force you into unwanted affairs, pregnancies, and, ultimately, untimely death.

 

At the film’s outset, April and Frank Wheeler (Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio) seem to be living in a beautiful 1950s suburban idyll, happy with one another, and mercifully more together than their neighbors. They have two incidental children. All is plain and calm and nice. When Frank and April meet the mentally unbalanced John (Michael Shannon), he sees through their façade, and seems to intuit that their marriage will fall apart. Soon thereafter, such a thing does indeed begin to happen, and Frank and April begin to openly loathe one another, preferring to give in to ’50s norms rather than live the life they want. These people just don’t have the smarts or imagination to live a life other than one of dull, throbbing misery.

 

Can I hold your hand during the movie?

 

1) Antichrist (2009)

Dir. Lars Von Trier

And we move from films that are merely about couples who hate each other, and saunter horribly and depressingly into the bleakest pit of despair that has ever been recorded on film, where a couple psychologically, physically, and sexually tortures one another. There are three chapters in the film: Pair, grief and despair. The film is weird and arty, and indeed can probably only be understood if you know the psychology of depression. Von Trier was, reportedly, working through some of his own crippling depression when he made “Antichrist.” The result makes that clear.

 

An unnamed married couple (Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg) has moved to their cabin in the woods in order to get past the recent death of their young son. She has become hysterical and suicidal. He, a psychiatrist by trade, decides to cure her. Only it’s never clear if he’s trying to help her or torment her. She becomes increasingly unbalanced, and eventually begins talking about Satan’s Church, and how women have been tortured for years. Time falls out of joint. Animals begin speaking. Sex and death become synonymous. Eventually there are several very intense scenes of horrible sexual violence that I choose not to describe here. Just know that neither he nor she makes it out unharmed.

 

So be sure to snuggle up on the couch, prepare some savory snacks, and proceed to wallow in suicidal thoughts with “Antichrist.”

 

 

Witney Seibold is a happily married man, thank you very much, living in Los Angeles. Be sure to read the hundreds of film reviews available on his ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years! Also be sure to listen to his podcast, The B-Movies Podcast, which he co-hosts once a week.

 

 

 

 

I work at a movie theater in West Los Angeles, where we show midnight screenings of various cult movies on a weekly basis. We’ve shown older, hipper movies like Quadrophenia, some totally obscure horror flicks like In a Glass Cage, the occasional freakout film, like 1977’s House, and a lot of more predictable recent cult fare like The Big Lebowski.

 

A few weeks back, we had a screening of Edgar Wright’s 2010 film Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, which has, over the last year, managed to amass a passionate cult following, and has become a sub-culture unto itself. The Canadian comic book on which the film is based already had a passionate following, and the audience seemed to translate directly to the film. The film itself is rather funny, even if it is a bit too rambunctious for its own good. I wrote a review when it first came out, and while I did give it a very positive review, I have to say I’m a bit baffled by the level of devotion and passion toward the film. I didn’t understand why this colorful and stylish movie managed to garner to devotion it did.

 

 

But then I looked around at the crowd who had trekked out at midnight to see the movie, and I came to a stirring and disturbing conclusion about Geek Culture that might rattle some of you. I saw the scads of people in their two-in-one pop culture t-shirts purchased off of TeeFury. I saw the women proudly proclaiming that they played videogames, and had the hipster-wear to match. I overheard well-thought-out quibbles about Hollywood’s most recent summer blockbuster, and how the newest superhero flick was going to get a grand treatment on Blu-Ray. I heard the giggles, the comments about bacon, and the usual misappropriation of words like “awesome” and “fail.”

 

I make the following declarative statement: Geek is dead.

 

Geeks once prided themselves on their outsider status. They used to be ecstatic doughy dancers who would evoke Terpsichore in the joyous sunshine of happy mutanthood. They celebrated their adolescence without having to depend on the curious and maddening cultural tolerance to arrested development that has sprung up in this country in the last decade or so. They were like punk rockers. Anti-establishment weirdos who had little interest on what the mainstream had to offer, and attempted to find a different niche in their genre interests. But whereas punks wanted to take down the system, start fights, destroy music, and put forth a general philosophy of nihilism, geeks were content to stay quietly on the outside, playing D&D, obsessing over the details in obscure sci-fi novels, and trying to gain enough sense memory to beat the first few “Final Fantasy” games with their eyes closed. There was a time when geeks could only share information but subscribing to handmade ‘zines, gathering in small groups in high school, and comparing notes on reruns of “Star Trek.” Geeks used to be socially awkward wimps with a mind for the classical, technical skills, and obsession with smaller back corners of popular culture.

 

I can’t say when things started to shift in earnest, but it did have something to do with the success of superhero feature films, and the ubiquity of the internet. What was once considered niche and outsider became (and is still becoming) increasingly mainstream. Millions of dollars went into a Spider-Man feature film. Comic books experienced a boom. Video games most certainly had a lot to do with the shift; kids who played video games never gave them up, and eventually became programmers, causing the video game industry to effectively supplant the record industry as the leading edge of pop moneymaking. What’s more, an event like Comic-Con now fetches hundreds of thousands of people every year, and shows no sign of abating.

 

 

There is, however, still a defensive tone to much of geek discourse. If you surf around the internet, you’ll find long, well-thought-out essays from hundreds of would-be geeks explaining why comics are a vital and viable medium, or why certain genre films paint a better picture of the human condition than any old-fashioned book, or why e-readers are superior to books (note: they aren’t), or why technology should be worshiped, or how (and this one still baffles me) playing video games is an artistic act. There is a lingering attitude of defense amongst geek writers, comic book readers, and internet-dwelling video game fans. As if The Mainstream is still this gigantic opposing force to their geek interests, and their geek interests still need a passionate aegis to dwell within.

 

But geek interests, I declare, need no defense. Look around you. How much of what permeates popular culture these days could be considered “geek?” People are obsessed with iPhones, which can be considered a techno-gadget, once relegated to well-connected engineering students. As I said, video games make billions. The most successful film of all time is a sci-fi flick with monsters, dragons, an imaginary language, and cutting-edge computer special effects. Is someone who knows all about the Na’Vi a geek? I would say not. They’re just another person who shelled out to see Avatar.

 

 

Geek, just like punk, used to have a willing stigma attached to it. It used to be less about the flavor of interests, and more about the outsider status. And, as geek culture grows, we need to acknowledge that our interests are no longer on the fringe. Our geek interests are the mainstream.

 

This happens to all outsider trends. I mean, heck, it’s often argued that rock ‘n’ roll was once solely in the purview of the black community, and was co-opted by whites. Harley Davidson used to stand for criminal biker attitude, and was not a luxury item for weekend warriors. How “alternative” was alternative rock once millions of people began going to Lollapalooza? The edgy outsider stuff often leaks into the mainstream, and loses its teeth. It’s curious that the same should happen to geek, as it was never edgy; geek is kind of gentle and passive.

 

 

What geek has become is, and I hate to keep hammering on the punk rock parallel, a kind of fashion. A way to dress. A genre. A real punk rocker has scars. A poseur only has access to hair dye. The same can now be said of geek. The true believers are still outcasts, and have their social scars to match. Just because you have an interest in video games, genre movies, and superheroes, doesn’t make you a geek. It just means you like geek stuff.

 

It’s weird to see geek culture get co-opted the way it did. A lifestyle that once banked on being uncool is now selling itself as cool. People who are clearly not geeks are claiming to be. Jessica Alba once declared that she was a geek in school. I’m sorry, but anyone who looks like Jessica Alba and has a thriving career as a Hollywood actress was not a geek.  She never experienced the pain and humiliation of being shoved into a line of lockers for saying you like to watch “Star Trek,” or actually enjoy figuring out math problems. Olivia Munn IS NOT A GEEK! She’s some hot chick in a bikini who talks to geeks for money. There’s another blow to the culture: Geeks used to be sexless dweebs. Now they meet at conventions, flirt, inter-breed, and intermarry. Geek has become sexed up. Hot girls now regularly dress in Slave Leia outfits, and savvy nerd boys can seduce them. Geeks are sexy. And while I admit that I find the geek girl look as hot as the next nerdy boy, there seems something wrong about the mainstream acceptance of the hot geek gal. Those women used to be ours. Quit stealing them.

 

 

So I declare: Geek is dead. There is no longer such thing. It’s a fashion trend. A genre of entertainment. A transmutation of popular culture. Some people may see the mainstreaming of geek as a triumph; Like what they wanted all along is finally being fulfilled. When else, for instance, would we have been able to see a feature film about The Avengers? I see it, however, as remaking something that was once meaningful and refreshingly difficult, as easy, stultified instant gratification. Geek should be hard work for smart kids. Smart geeks aren’t ruling the world. Bully geeks are. I’ve pointed this out before, but a lot of geeks, now that they’re in the spotlight, have started to rely on shame tactics when talking to other geeks. They’ll make them feel bad for not knowing about their particular niche. This is what the bullies used to do to us, guys. Knock it off.

 

 

Are there still real geeks in the world? Indeed. Just like there are real punks, real exploitation filmmakers, real engineers, real metalheads, or real anything that was once fringe, and is now mainstream. But the only way to be sure if the person you’re chatting with is a geek is to talk to them extensively, and read their passions. A true geek will live by their passions. They will pursue what they love, even if it’s not readily available. Especially if it’s not readily available. They will be marked by their sincerity. They will live with a quiet humility, and will never resort to being arrogant (Unless, of course, they’re just genuinely socially awkward; you see those guy behind the counter at the comic book shop.). Geeks will read the comics they love. Geeks will memorize the music they like. They will be well-rounded, intelligent people who can’t talk to others all the time. It’s not enough that you wear the t-shirts. The t-shirts are meaningless. You have to love. Oh God, you have to love.

 

Are you a geek?

 

Are you?

 

 

Did any of you see the first episode of “Ringer” last week? That new show where Sarah Michelle Gellar plays a pair of twins? One is an ex-stripper and recovering addict with a heart of gold and the other is a bitter, rich New York ice queen? Yeah. I saw it. Yeah. I didn’t like it either.

 

It’s a tradition going back as early as the doppelgänger from German folklore. We all have a shade, if you will. Another living self. A monster, wandering the landscape, possessed of all our most negative tendencies, doing harm in our name, and looking exactly like us. This creature taps into our deepest guilty fears, in that we may be blamed for sins that we didn’t commit, but it also serves a Jungian function, serving as our own evil halves. The doppelgänger is the same as we are, only behaving in a slightly more antisocial fashion. The Evil Twin goes back centuries.

 

Thanks to cartoons and comic books, though, the notion of the Evil Twin has permeated our consciousness to this very day, and not a cartoon show can broadcast, or a superhero comic be written without the old saw of the Evil Twin being hauled out of the mothballs. It’s such a common story conceit, in fact, that a lot of comic book fans begin to tire of it early on. As Earthworm Jim once said “Superheroes and evil twins go together like peanut butter and evil peanut butter.”

I’ve always kinda liked the notion of the evil twin, though, if only for aesthetic balance; it was fun to see Superman fight a weirdo version of himself, putting to rest the hyperactive little boy questions that demanded to know what would happen if Our Hero met his equal.

In honor of your own dark half (and, no, I will make no further references to the George Romero film “The Dark Half”), I have brainstormed up the following list of the ten best evil twins in pop culture. Read it and be amused.

 

10) Venom

From “Spider-Man” comics, starting in 1988

 

 

 Venom gets a low spot on this list, as he is (and I know I’m going to get a lot of heat for this) not technically an evil twin. I read the comics regarding his origin, so I do know that Venom is actually an intelligent blob of black alien goop that psychically bonds with its host, and can change shape to look like clothing. It first latched onto Peter Parker, and shifted into a wicked-looking black Spider-Man costume. It later, I guess fond of the Spider-Man costume look, latched onto a muscly jock named Eddie Brock, and changed its name to Venom. So yes. Same alien blob, two different people. No twins involved, right?

 

 Some reflection, though, has me considering that Venom, in terms of his dramatic function, served as an Evil Twin. On the one hand, we had a good-hearted Spider-Man, wearing red, white and blue, fighting for justice. On the other, we had a begin that looked almost exactly like Spider-Man, only back, twisted and evil (and later, given a huge lolling tongue, a jaw that looked like a cash register drawer, and a huge set of horrifying fangs. It seems to me that the alien suit thing (which first turned up in “Secret Wars”) was an excuse to make an Evil Twin for Spider-Man. Seeing as how well Venom has permeated the comic book readers’ consciousnesses, I’d say his creators succeeded.

 

 Much more than that silly clone story, anyway.

 

9) NegaDuck

From “Darkwing Duck” (1991 – 1992)

 

 

 There was a brief renaissance of Disney television animation in the early 1990s, wherein their hugely powerful animation studio, celebrating the windfall of money that came in with “The Little Mermaid” began to produce regular original programming. The shows were not necessarily incredibly well-written, often falling into the usual traps of bland sitcom writing, but they were a sight better than the horrors of the toy-obsessed late ‘80s garbage I was raised on (“Alvin and the Chipmunks” anyone?). What’s more, they were incredibly well-animated, raising the bar for what could be done with TV animation. Their first big hit of this time was clearly “Duck Tales”, although my favorite, and the favorite of many of my peers, was 1991’s “Darkwing Duck”, a superhero comedy show – perhaps a sendup of Batman – with anthropomorphic animals.

 

 Darkwing Duck himself was kind of a goofy blowhard with only dubious crimefighting skills. He was more concerned with his image as a spooky spectre than he was with superhero efficiency. He did, however, still have an irrepressible righteous streak that continually forced him back out into the streets of his beloved St. Canard. It was that righteousness that got him into trouble when he was hit by an electrical ray, which reversed the polarity of his body, and created NegaDuck. NegaDuck was a horrible asshole who was so devoted to killing and hurting people that he formed a supervillain team. In a goofy and funny show with animal people, Negaduck seemed like a real-world asshole counterbalance. And that’s what an evil twin ought to be.

 

8) Gabriel YuLaw

From “The One” (2001)

 

 

A crazy sci-fi setup if ever there was one, James Wong’s largely forgotten 2001 film is clearly a champion of far-fetched ideas. Here’s the setup: There are a finite number of alternate universes, each containing a double of everyone here on Earth. There is also a finite amount of “power” to go about any given person across several dimensions, meaning each are equally strong. If a double dies in an alternate universe, their power is even distributed amongst the survivors in the other dimensions.

 

How Gabriel YuLaw figures out all these mechanics is beyond me, but, being the evil fellow that he is, has decided to take advantage of this setup, and has hijacked a dimension-hopping device that allows him to easily move from one universe to the next. His plan? Kill all of his doubles until he is the last man standing, and, hence, the strongest man of all. In terms of a kung-u movie setup, this is structured like any; fight increasingly strong opponents until you win the day. But that each of his opponents are his exact double only makes the setup seem a little bugnutty. Oh, and did I mention that Gabriel and all his doubles are played by Chinese fight master Jet Li? Yeah, an evil Jet Li clone, growing increasingly strong, is out to kill his twins. If that’s not an Evil Twin, I don’t know what is.

 

7) Evil Mark Twain

From “The Adventures of Mark Twain” (1986)

 

 

I know this one is obscure, but I include it for my own personal nostalgic reasons. In the mid-1980s, I was fascinated with stop-motion animation, loved Will Vinton’s TV commercials, and was one of the snotty kids a school who tried to get people to distinguish between any old stop-motion animation, and the trademarked Claymation^TM. So imagine my joy when I started seeing TV spots for a Will Vinton feature film about the film of Mark Twain. The VHS tape I used to capture this broadcast got quite the workout.

 

The film, if you haven’t seen it, is a surprisingly dark and surreal look at the life and works of Mark Twain (voiced by James Whitmore), who, on the eve of his 74^th birthday, chose, bafflingly, to board a homemade, space-worthy zeppelin, and fly into the heart of Halley’s Comet. In this universe, Huck Finn, Tom Sawyer, and Becky Thatcher were real children, and they decided to stow away on the balloon. The trip into space to find the comet is rife with odd asides, including the story of Adam and Eve, and a truly nightmare-inducing sequence involving a retelling of Twain’s The Mysterious Stranger. As the adventures progress, we learn that there is another stowaway on the balloon in the form of a black-clad adult whose face we never see.

 

At the end of the film it is revealed that this mysterious stowaway is also Mark Twain, but in his more depressed moods. Twain, you see, was often a folksy champion of easily acquired wisdom, but could also write some pretty grim stories. “The Adventures of Mark Twain posits that the author was actually two men. This is a neat idea, and kind of scary to think about. Plus, it’s amusingly bonkers. Evil Mark Twain.

 

 6) Lore

From “Star Trek: The Next Generation” (1987 – 1994)

 

The various “Star Trek” iterations have had more evil twins and devious doubles than, I assume, any other notable pop culture tentpole. Indeed, and I hope you don’t cry foul on this one, but this won’t be the last time I bring up “Star Trek” on this list. There have been alternate universes, transporter accidents that split a personality, transporter accidents that created a clone, outright biological clones, and, most notably in the “Next Generation” universe, an evil android twin brother to the Enterprise’s Data.

Lore was built before Data by a crazed, android-obsessed engineer named Noonien Soong. Data, as we learned over the course of the series, was capable of experiencing emotions, but was never installed with a proper emotions chip, leaving him stone-faced and inquisitive, but un-passionate. Lore, on the other hand, was installed with emotional processors right away, and, seeing as he was kind of an early, imperfect model, developed emotional problems as a result. It was as if Soong forgot to program in Asimov’s laws of robotics when putting together his plastic man. Lore, as a result, was a megalomaniacal bully who would gleefully sacrifice living beings, and mock them openly for their inferiority. While the ancient Evil Twin conceit was being openly exploited by the show’s writers, Lore managed to come alive thanks to the performance of the very good Brent Spiner, who turned the usually placid Data into a raging jerk.

I like ‘im.

 

5) Robot Bill and Ted

From “Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey” (1991)

 

 

Most of us have seen “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure,” and, if you were like me, fell in love with the goofballs at its center. Who wouldn’t want to be a California surfer dude with access to a time machine, and enough joyful cluelessness to have a simple chat with Socrates? Also, you get to be the eventual New Messiahs of humanity, by forming the world’s most important rock group, and inspiring the masses. Those metalhead losers you knew in high school are destined to be our saviors. That’s pretty funny.

 

When the sequel came ‘round in 1991, the filmmakers decided to make the events of the first film, admittedly weird to begin with, take a skew toward the outright nightmarish. In the sequel Bill (Alex Winter) and Ted (Keanu Reeves) find themselves confronting evil robot doubles of themselves, and actually dying and going to Hell. They also go to heaven to resurrect a pair of Martian engineers to help them build good robot counterparts to battle the evil robots. They also, like in “The Seventh Seal” play games with Death (William Sadler), only, being the ‘80s slackers they are, eschew chess for games like Twister and Electric Football. If a question mark appeared above your head in those last three sentences, don’t fret. I happened to a lot of us.

 

 The evil robots, though, were mean sumbitches. They had creepy robot faces under their rubber masks, and took a little too much pleasure in causing harm. Indeed, by actually murdering Bill and Ted, they immediately added a dark edge to a movie that promised to be light. Good job guys. You turned the series uncomfortably dark. Evil Twins. Gotta hate ‘em.

 

4) Mechagodzilla

From “Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla” (1974)

 

 

Godzilla’s allegiance to the human race has always been a bit dodgy. When he first appeared in 1954, he was an unstoppable, mindless animal who stormed cities, did untold destruction, and was eventually (presumably) killed by the humans. Over the next few “Godzilla” films, however, Godzilla was revealed to be only one of many gigantic monsters plaguing the cities of Japan, and the giant whale gorilla had a change of heart, choosing to do battle with the interloping monsters, instead of merely stepping on buses and knocking over buildings. Occasionally Godzilla would relapse back into wanton destruction, but by 1974, our favorite monster was pretty much a good guy.

If one was an Ape-Man from another planet, and one wanted to invade an Earth that was populated by benevolent giant dinosaur creatures, well, we’d probably all do what the Ape-Men in “Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla” did: Create a gigantic robot clone of Godzilla to destroy all the monsters. Mechagodzilla presents a curious philosophical dilemma for Godzilla. Clearly you must do battle with the robot in order to protect the humans below, but surely this robot represents the very same mindless destruction you once stood for. Mechagodzilla is more than an evil twin for Godzilla. It’s a confrontation of his old ideals. I can’t imagine the existential crisis Godzilla must have gone through while breathing fire on a robot twin.

 Also, Mechagodzilla is amazing and badass. That is all.

 

3) Bizarro

From the “Superman” and “Superboy” comics, starting in 1958

 

 

More than anything, I love the name. It’s so pleasantly dated, and, in a way, so innocent. He’s not evil. He’s not villainous. He’s not even destructive. He’s just bizarro. Bizarro’s author stated, very simply, that he wanted that old doppelgänger dynamic in place for Superman, so Bizarro’s costume is identical to Superman’s, and his hairdo is the same, only he has that craggy white skin. Bizarro, despite being a double for Superman, acted and thought a lot more like Frankenstein’s monster than a Superman villain. He spoke in broken English, and went through similar crises as Shelley’s creature. Sample dialogue: “Me not human! Me Unhappy! Me not belong in world of living people!” Which is almost identical to the creature’s dialogue at the end of “Bride of Frankenstein.” What a weird idea. Put Frankenstein’s monster in Superman’s costume, and see what happens.  

 

As is the case with many comic book characters created decades ago, Bizarro has gone through several iterations, and even has several origin stories (He’s a clone in one, an evil robot in another, from another dimension in a third). If you’re fond of the character, I’m sure you have a favorite version, or one you consider to be “canon.” Me? Well, always the classicist, I’ll stick with the Bizarro made with the duplicating ray. That guy in “Smallville” can die in a corner. And that weird attempt to make a Bizarro in “Superman III?” Well, I think we’re all a little embarrassed by that.

 

2) Evil Ash

From “Army of Darkness” (1992)

 

 

 You know what I love most about Evil Ash? We never really learn what the Hell he is. In the seminal cult experience, Sam Raimi’s “Army of Darkness,” easily his most fun film, Ash (Bruce Campbell), at one point, is confronted with dozens four-inch-high mischievous versions of himself, spawned from a broken mirror. One of the mini-Ashes, in order to torture Ash, dives down his throat, and does horrible things to him from the inside. To battle the creature, Ash drinks boiling water (!) causing the little duplicate to grow larger, spring out of Ash’s skin, and separate into a full-sized Evil Twin. Watching it in the movie makes it feel a lot more natural than my description. This Evil Twin, after a brief battle, is eventually subdued and cut into pieces with a chainsaw. He is then resurrected by an evil spell book, and gathers together a band of the undead to kill all the mortals. Again, in the film, it feels natural.

 

But we never learn where the little duplicates really came from, why they’re evil, or why this My-Size duplicate, now coated in scalded flesh, and wearing bone armor, has any hatred for Ash or living people. Our only line of explanation comes in the form of an introduction: “I’m Bad Ash, and you’re Good Ash.” Luckily, this weird setup is played for laughs, and, thanks to Campbell’s unending gameness and hugely strong sense of humor, the laughs come fast and furious. This is an Evil Twin that looks wicked and evil, but is silly, weird and fun.

 

1) Mirror Spock

From “Star Trek” (1967)

 

 

In what is probably the second most famous episode of “Star Trek” (following that one with all the Tribbles), our heroic crew finds themselves, thanks to a transporter accident, trapped in an alternate universe, where The Enterprise is a conquest vessel, and all the people aboard are selfish, violent warriors. Kirk, Uhura, McCoy and Scotty find themselves having to emulate their evil counterparts in order to avoid suspicion, avoid the Agony Booths, and restore themselves to their home universe.

 

 And, of course, they have to contend with the intelligent machinations of Mirror Spock, the counterpart to their well-known Spock, but possessed of an evil streak, and, as we all known bearing the now-famous goatee. In terms of his function on the show, Mirror Spock is one of the finest. He has all the powers of the original, but is now in the service of something far less savory. His cold logic only serves to dominate. In terms of his place in the pop culture firmament, Mirror Spock is the clear winner. Indeed, his goatee has become so well-known, that it’s become shorthand for an “evil” character.

 

 

 

Mirror Witney Seibold lives in New York, where he eats buckets of raw meat, cusses a lot, and doesn’t give a fuck about movies. He also has a ‘blog called I Hate You with the Fiery Passion of a Thousand Suns, and a podcast called I Will Punch You in the Gut for Looking at Me Funny. He’s certainly no professor.

 

 

 

           

 Not too many of the current generation knows an awful lot about the vast and surreal output of Sid and Marty Krofft. Only particularly hip Gen-Xers, who likely grew up with reruns of “H.R. Pufnstuf,” “Electra-Woman and Dyna-Girl,” and “Lidsville” (and subsequently, getting massively stoned to the very same programs later in life) have any sort of working knowledge of their work. Many of us may know about “Land of the Lost,” reruns, and some of us may have seen the recent feature of film the same name. But, for the most part, Sid and Marty, in terms of their current place in the pop culture firmament, are only a vast footnote to many young people. This is a pity, as their work is immensely friendly, strangely ubiquitous, and remarkably bizarre. For any of you who are still in high school, and don’t know about Sid and Marty Krofft, keep reading, and I will take you through a velour-lined, jerky puppet universe of nightmarish juxtapositions and inside-out sitcom dimensions the likes of which your imagination cannot fathom. I will take through the world of “Sigmund and the Sea Monsters,” the first season of which was released on DVD and Blu-ray on Tuesday.

 

 

 

 To be fair, “Sigmund and the Sea Monsters” is hardly the strangest of the Krofft canon. Indeed, it may be the most restrained. When set next to something like “Lidsville” (which is, briefly, a show about Butch Patrick accidentally falling into an alternate dimension ruled by talking hats, and threatened by Charles Nelson Reilly), it’s downright sane. But, despite its relative restraint, “Sigmund” still takes several hours of viewing before you can really get on its wavelength; it’s not until you’ve found yourself in a darkened room, on your fifth or sixth episode, perhaps drunk, perhaps high, perhaps just suffering from a crippling insomnia, taking in the strange sitcom stories involving wiggling cloth sea monsters, that you break through to a strange plane of consciousness where it all seems to (at least temporarily) form its own internal dream logic, and fit into your brain.

 

“Sigmund and the Sea Monsters,” which started its three-year run in 1973, followed the adventures of Johnny Stuart (Johnny Whitaker, with his squinty eyes, and a Ronald McDonald hairdo) and his little brother Scott (towhead Scott C. Kolden), two kids who live in a beachhouse somewhere in, I’m guessing, Florida. As explained in the themesong, they meet up with a sea monster named Sigmund (played by famed dwarf performer Billy Barty), who is too friendly for his ignorant and mean-spirited sea monster family, and hence ousted. Sigmund looks like a pile of raked leaves with big friendly eyes, and tentacles. Johnny and Scott move Sigmund into their secret clubhouse (No adults allowed!), where they have to keep him hidden from the prying eyes of the human world, and from the evil machinations of his evil family. Johnny and Scott live with their put-upon Aunt Zelda (Mary Wikes), who is obsessed with housework, and who has a flirtatious pseudo-romance with the local cop (Joe Higgins). Occasionally, a nosy neighbor, played by Margaret Hamilton (The Wicked Witch of the West to you) would threaten to interrupt their idyll. Johnny and Scott’s parents are never discussed.

 

 We spend just as much time with Sigmund’s family, however, as we do with Johnny and Scott, and, indeed, watching the team of hard-working puppeteers clumsily operating the sea creature’s faces, while they cavort, undulate, somersault, and make lame jokes that would have been old in the 1940s, is clearly the highlight of the show. Johnny Whitaker may have been a B-level teen idol, along the lines of Donnie Osmond, and he may have sung a delightful early ‘70s ballad every episode, but I’m guessing people tuned in to see Blurp and Slurp running into walls and falling over and making lame sea-life puns.

 

 And it’s here, in the sea monster’s cave, is where the show’s streak of unadulterated surreality begins to take its solid foothold. Sigmund’s family consists of Big Daddy Ooze (Van Snowden), Sweet Mama Ooze (Sharon Baird), twin brothers Blurp and Slurp (Larry Larsen and Paul Gale), and their barking pet lobster (played by anyone who felt like operating the puppet, including, occasionally, Kolden). Big Daddy is a Ralph Kramden type, who is obsessed with get-rich-quick schemes. Sweet Mama is a clucking biddy obsessed with hat sales. Blurp and Slurp are idiots. They all want to kidnap Simgund and bring him back, as they, as is explained in the first episode, are potential inheritors of their uncle Siggy’s fortune, and they will not get the money unless they have Sigmund in their home. They treated Sigmund poorly, however, keeping him as a slave, and berating him for not wanting to scare people.

 

 

The schemes the monsters think up were, as I have indicated, incredibly dated, and were only funny to the canned laughter than runs through every scene of the show. The conceits in each episode would be familiar to any child who has spent any portion of their youth watching television. In one episode, they kidnap Sigmund outright, and Johnny dressed as Frankenstein’s monster (their idol) infiltrates to kidnap him back. In another, Slurp dresses in drag (!) to seduce Sigmund back to the cave. In the Halloween special, Sigmund gets a call from Lawrence Kelp (get it?) entreating him to move home in order to receive some prize money. The immortal Rip Taylor even appears in a few episodes to skewer, in that impeccably mincing fashion of his, the sitcom stories we see in front of us.

 

Did any of you see “MacGruber?” How about episodes “The Venture Bros?” When I hear that young kids are watching stuff like this, it concerns me. Are kids, whose experience with television and movie clichés is limited, really understanding the clever parody that’s going on? Have small children really become familiar with “Johnny Quest” in a way that would make the true satire of “The Venture Bros.” really make any sense at all? Probably not. I’m guessing something similar was going on with “Sigmund and the Sea Monsters;” The creators of the show wanted to, in a subtly wicked way, make an arch parody of 1950s sitcoms, only using sea monsters, and featuring actors in fake-looking puppet suits. The kids watching the show may not have really understood the cute references to “The Honeymooners,” and hence, I’m guessing, much of the show’s impact was lost on them. Did I just imply that “Sigmund and the Sea Monsters” left an “impact” on the world of popular culture? Indeed I did. This weird, bizarro-world sitcom, if you know older shows, plays like a surrealist trick.

 

But maybe I’m reading too much into the show. I mean, we used to watch Bugs Bunny cartoons, which featured all manner of spoofs and references to popular culture, hit songs, and news items from the late 1940s, and we could still dig the humor of someone taking an anvil to the skull.

 

Anyway, back to the show. In contrast to the sea monsters, the kids seemed like clueless outsiders. They were our heroes, and they provided the guidance that Sigmund needed to understand the human world, but they were, as were most sitcom characters, somewhat bland ciphers. Sure, they looked like they were having fun, playing on the beach, and living in what seemed to be a perpetual summer vacation. The real moral center of the show is, of course, the clueless Sigmund. Sigmund is a wide-eyed innocent, not belonging to the world of the sea monsters any longer, but not ready to be accepted into human society. He is an unfortunate, childlike alien, trapped in perpetual illegal immigration status. The only thing protecting Sigmund from the onset of a nightmarish, Kafkaesque existential crisis is his honesty and innocence.

 

Each episode featured, as I have said, a song, written by Bobby Hart and Danny Janssen, and performed by Johnny Whitaker. They were all early ‘70s funky, and featured jumpy rhythms that would, if you listened to them enough, burrow deeply into your ear canal, and build a home. Bobby Hart, it must be noted, wrote many songs for The Monkees in the late ‘60s. A nifty feature on this new DVD is MP3s of every single song in the season, which you can load into your portable stereo, pump up to full, and take a big hit of marijuana as brain cells slowly and blissfully drift away into the ether.

 The DVD also features a 20-minute interview with Johnny Whitaker and Scott Kolden today, as they reminisce over their childhood work. Whitaker, the older of the two, seems to have a more workmanlike attitude, talking about acting and his career, whereas Kolden is a bit more whimsical, preferring to think of working on the show as a high-profile summer camp. Whitaker also tells a funny story about being beaten by Donnie Osmond in a “Who is the better kisser?” poll in Tiger Beat magazine, when he knows, from the testimony of common women that they have kissed, that he is indeed better.

 

To whom can I recommend “Sigmund and the Sea Monsters?” Little kids, I suppose, might dig the floppy monster costumes, and they certainly wouldn’t notice the weirdness. Well, provided they’re not already permanently connected to a portable video device with a screen, and used to fast-paced, noisy nonsense from Japan. I hope I can catch my own kid at the right age, when I can show her stuff like Gerry Anderson’s “Thunderbirds” and the works of Sid and Marty Krofft, and allow her to appreciate it. Adults may have nostalgic affection for it, but it’s hard to see many people my age taking it up on a whim. I guess if you’re around 18, and want to bliss out on Saturday mornings the way you used to as a child, you can pop in these videos, take a huge bong hit, and let the show happen to you.

 

 

You, like me, have probably sat in front of an advertisement for, say, M&Ms, and marveled at the walking, talking candy gnomes that the company has used to market itself to the masses. You’ve likely had a similar thought process to this: Why does the candy want us to eat it? Does it have this weird, cannibalistic fetish? Does it have a tragic and gut-churning death wish that can only be sated when it’s being bodily eaten by a large creature? I appreciate the bright colors and goofy cartoon characters as much as the next arrested 9-year-old, but my imagination is, sadly, too vivid to let the following scenario go: I picture a horrific grand guingol scene, wherein a happy and hungry human, zombie-like, tears into the yielding candy shell for the disturbingly unprotesting candy monster, both of them moaning in sexual ecstasy, an orgy of death commencing in front of the pleased eyes of onlookers. It’s like that short film in “May,” where we see two young lovers making out, and casually devouring one another in romantic bliss.

 

Yes, advertisers and filmmakers have been anthropomorphizing food for decades and decades. Ever since the old fable of The Gingerbread Man, through the smiling ice-cream and candy creatures of the 1950s, through the talking strips of jerky and heroic strings of cheese of midday TV commercials, through ‘blogs like Food With Eyes (an amusing collection of photos that can be accessed here) all the way up to late-night programming on Cartoon Network, living, thinking food items have been crawling around our consciousnesses for our entire lives. Often they are disturbing, sometimes they are amusing, but they are always going to be our friends, and always going to entreat us to eat them.

 

With that nightmarish image leaving a sticky residue in your minds, let’s barrel forth into a countdown of the ten best living food items from popular culture.

 

 

10) The Fighting Foodons

from “Fighting Foodons” (2001 – 2002)

 

 

I have to admit, I haven’t seen a single episode of this show. It passed through the miasma of modern Saturday morning programming about a decade ago, lasting only 26 episodes, and vanished into obscurity, where it has remained ever since, only to be dragged out by talking-food obsessed weirdos like this author. This was a re-purposed anime series, originally called “Kakutou Ryouri Densetsu Bistro Recipe,” that was dubbed into English for the American market during a glut of anime re-purposing that was, even in 2001, still riding on the coattails of the success of Pokémon.

 

It was indeed about people training and sending monsters into an arena for one-on-one battle, but rather than the usual formula of superpowered animals, “Fighting Foodons” featured heroic chefs who, using the right spices and recipes, created magical food monsters that would breathe fire, or use swords to destroy one another. This is a batshit crazy premise that I wish I could have seen. I can only hope that some cynical hipster someday decides to make a big-budget Hollywood feature film of this odd little forgotten kid’s show a decade hence.

 

9) Food Fighters

from the Mattel toy line (1988)

 

 

Nothing more than a series of immobile PVC cartoon characters, all in the shapes of various food items with faces, the Food Fighters were probably one of the lamer attempts at creating a franchise that toy manufacturers released in the late 1980s, and they tried a lot (“Wheel Warriors” anyone?). They tried to create a whole mythos for these food beings, including various characters (like the Burgerdier General, Private Pizza, and Taco Terror to name a few), and some manufactured food war they were fighting. While the toys were well-designed, it was hard to get past the fact that you, even in your more imaginative childhood fantasies, were making junk food fight itself.

 

The only real notable thing about the Food Fighters were the TV commercials, wherein the food characters, using stop-motion animation, would walk, talk, banter and do battle. The commercials were careful to show kids playing with the actual toy products, and even contained the verbal disclaimer “Toys do not walk and talk!”, but I do remember seeing news reports of dismayed kids who felt duped by the ads; they expected the toys to walk around and talk like in the ads. Sorry kids, but I guess you never experienced the dissonance between a cheery package and its underwhelming insides. Call it the Sea Monkey syndrome.

 

8) Mayor McCheese, et al

from the McDonald’s “McDonaldland” ad campaign, 1971-1985

 

 

In the early 1970s, McDonalds restaurants transformed their popular drive-in restaurant designs into a homogenized sit-down eatery. They realized that their food was popular amongst kids, and began a multi-million-dollar ad campaign to reflect that. It was in 1963 that Ronald McDonalds, the friendly burger-hocking clown began to appear in the national consciousness, and marketing for kids would never be the same. The original concept wasn’t very ambitious, but by the early ’70s, the clown had expanded. More than having a clown stand out front, entreating children to eat salty, bland burgers, McDonalds created an entire alternate dimension, ruled by big-headed food monsters, policed by Officer Big Mac, populated brightly-colored children made of french fries, and overseen by the gregarious Mayor McCheese. We also remember, it is likely, the weird purple monster, the bird, the obnoxious Hamburglar, and all the rest. Now reflect on how much of your imagination has been destroyed by these horrific monsters.

 

Here’s an interesting pop culture footnote: In 1971, McDonald’s approached Sid and Marty Krofft, of “H.R. Pufnstuf” fame, to license the Pufnstuf character for marketing purposes. The Kroffts refused, and McDonald’s went ahead with with McDonald land campaign instead, which, as can easily be seen, very strongly resembles “H.R. Pufnstuf;” big-headed puppet monsters Mayor McCheese looked almost identical to the mayor H.R. Pufnstuf. The Kroffts ended up suing the restaurant chain for ripping off their idea, and, after years of legal battles, McDonald’s settled with the Kroffts in 1977, giving them a million dollars. If you’re wondering why some of the canonical characters from McDonaldland never appear in the ads anymore, that would be why.

 

7) Twinkie the Kid, et al

from the Hostess ad campaign, c. 1973

 

 

These food people, as far as I know, never appeared on TV (apart from snarky references on “Family Guy”), being relegated to that magic place of the in-comicbook comics, wherein Spider-Man would take a breather for a page or two, and you’d have a self-contained, one-page mini-story about a brave Twinkie sheriff or a mystical Fruit Pie magician fighting off some imaginary assailant, and blessing a group of onlooking children with the gift of Hostess pastry products. I liked to think that a human-sized Fruit Pie was, by handing out regular-sized Fruit Pies to children, actually distributing its own eggs. Later in the day, surely the Fruit Pie eggs would incubate in the warm abdomens of the tow-headed children who ate them earlier, only to hatch, and burst forth, like the creature in “Alien,” out of the children’s abdomens. Am I the only one who had this fantasy?

 

There were only a few extant characters I clearly recall. There was Twinkie the Kid, the town sheriff. Fruit Pie the Magician, the ultimate showman, and Captain Cupcake, with a Colonel Blimp mustache and the coily ribbon of frosting down his chest. That these characters were rarely seen in action only added to their mystique. I prefer to imagine that they were capable of a lot.

 

Incidentally, “Twinkie the Kid” and “Fruit Pie the Magician” are dandy nicknames for your lovers’ genitals.

 

6) The Singing Burger

from “Better Off Dead…” (1985)

 

 

Lane Meyer (John Cusack) is depressed because his girlfriend left him. His little brother seems better at picking up sleazy women than he is, and his family can only console him wit lame advice, and horrible food. His job sucks, too, as he has to wear a demeaning pig snout, and sling rancid-looking burgers for a tyrannical boss. Savage Steve Holland’s 1985 cult hit plays like a typical teenage comedy after drinking way too much soda way too late at night. It tips from the clichéd teen archetypes into an alternate world of slapstick surreality. It’s also very sweet, mind you, but is probably more beloved for how weird it is.

 

And in a movie that’s already kind of strange, Holland, in an utterly bugnuts decision, features Lane, in a fit of escapism, briefly hallucinating that his work burgers are dancing and singing to him. A 10-lb. Frankenstein burger, with nightmarish eyeballs, leaps up from its work bench, grabs a nearby burger-sized guitar, and begins wailing loudly to Van Halen’s “Everybody Wants Some.” Lane smirks oddly, and the audience claps along in strained incredulity. In a movie that’s already dangerously close to surrealism, this scene pushes us over the edge. What an awesome burger. Don’t you wish your minimum-wage job food sprang to life to sing obscene hair metal at you? I do.

 

5) The Talking Sandwich

from “The State” (1993-1995) 

 

I’ve talked about the glories of MTV’s “The State” in the pages of Geekscape before, so I won’t bother reiterating too much, only to say that it was probably one of the funniest sketch comedy shows pretty much ever produced. It combination of MTV-hipster-skewers, knowing satire, and forthright absurdism gave it a weird quality that marked it both as a) definitely a relic of the 1990s, and b) simultaneously a timeless show for the ages. Each of the cast members has moved on to other sketch comedy shows and feature films since, but none of their subsequent pieces could match the magic.

 

One of the markers of the magic was an interim performer who only ever provided link material. I refer, of course, to the talking sandwich. The sandwich was, well, just a sandwich, complete with thrift store googly eyes, and some pretty good puppetry. It would speak in a laidback, unaffected voice, and often claim that it was just there to fill some time until the cast was ready to do the next sketch. It was as if the sandwich was an uncredited member of the troupe who only rarely got to perform on camera. Heck, the sandwich had about as much screentime as Michael Patrick Jann. What a nifty sandwich. I can relate to it.

 

4) The Gingerbread Man

from “Hansel and Gretel” (1982)

 

 

In 1982, quirky proto-Goth Tim Burton was still firmly ensconced at Disney, where he was quickly growing a resentment for the company’s unfortunate tendency to squelch the creativity of the individual artist in favor of the overall Disney aesthetic. This general attitude, however, didn’t stop him from making one of the company’s most disturbing and oddball 30-minute specials to come out of the “The Wonderful World of Disney” camp. Burton directed a version of the old fable Hansel and Gretel, which bore the visual cartoonishness that would come to mark his later works, and featured a pair of Japanese actors as the title characters, and a scenery-chewing (sometimes literally) and cross-dressing Michael Yama as both the wicked stepmother and evil witch, who had a candy cane for a nose.

 

When Hansel and Gretel are in the clutches of the evil witch, held prisoner in her pastry house, they are, as we all know, overfed with sweet, but in this version, the sweets come mostly in the form of brightly colored frosting that pours, pus-like from the walls. At one point, Hansel is sucked into a secret underground antechamber, and is tormented by a mean-spirited little gingerbread man, who mocks him and laughs at him, and emotionally abuses him for not committing the very natural act of gingerbread man cannibalism. The gingerbread man had a few expressions, and they’re all fucking creepy.

 

This special is no available on home video (which is kind of understandable, given how unsettling it is), but you can see it at the Tim Burton art exhibit at LACMA through Halloween. If you’re going to be in L.A., it’s worth the trip.

 

3) The California Raisins

From the California Raisins Advisory Board ad campaign (1986)

 

 

It’s odd that such a successful and ubiquitous marketing campaign should come from something as common and as innocuous as raisins, but the popular brand of ads – featuring animated raisins singing and dancing to Marvin Gaye’s famous “I Heard it Through the Grapevine” – reached a height of popularity previously untold for a simple food product. The campaign was so popular, in fact, that toys and records began to hit markets to feature the anthropomorphized little buggers, which was the first time, mind you, that this had happened for any ad campaign. Forget the recent days when Baby Bob can warrant a short-lived sitcom. The raisins were the first ship in those waters.

 

The raisins themselves actually looked really cool. They were designed and animated by Will Vinton’s famous Claymation studio, and they were all animated in an expressive and dynamic way, which made them all look like sweaty soul singers from the 1970s. Indeed, they’re wrinkle, purple skin and egg-shaped bodies started to drift from a definite raisin shape after a while, until they were just another vague cartoon character in the pop culture firmament. I was always fond of Will Vinton’s Claymation growing up, so I was especially entranced by the TV commercials with the raisins in them.

 

2) The Aqua Teen Hunger Force

From “Aqua Teen Hunger Force” (2000 – present)

 

 

While it’s already pretty absurd to animate and give personality to a food item as it is, the warped minds behind “Aqua Teen Hunger Force” did absurdity one better, by making a sitcom spoof featuring a talking meatball (named Meatwad), a talking order of French fries (named Frylock), and a talking Styrofoam cup full of milkshake (named Master Shake), and never called attention to the fact that these characters were food at all. Aside from the details that Meatwad slept on a grill, the three characters were essentially weird, callow, kleptomaniac losers, and the fact that they were food was only an absurd visual pun that carried the show to dizzying heights of weirdness. It’s likely many readers of this article have seen late-night reruns of the show, perhaps in an altered state of mind, and blissed out to the hilarious, dumb exercise in Dada television.

 

They do not live underwater, I don’t think they’re teens, and while they do have an unknown source of cash, some vague superpowers (Frylock can use his fries as radar), they’re hardly a “force.” It’s like the creators of the show pitched an anthropomorphic food ad campaign to a fast food restaurant, and were rejected, and, in their bitterness, kept the same characters alive, albeit in slack-jawed asshole form, in their new show. They folded pop culture in on itself with this one.

 

1) The Blancmange

From “Monty Python’s Flying Circus”(1969 – 1974)

 

 

On the planet of Skyron, in the galaxy of Andromeda, something foul is afoot. We don’t know what they’re up to, but the aliens on this world have been using a superpowered ray to transform all the world’s British people into Scotsman; they grow red bears, kilts appear on their bodies, and they become incredibly stupid. They also lose their ability to play tennis. And, as we all know, Scots are dangerously bad at playing tennis. And what to make of the sightings of gigantic, man-eating blancmanges stalking the British countryside by night, quietly devouring the populace? What could they be up to?

 

They mean to win Wimbledon.

 

The giant, man-eating blancmange is a particularly strange invention from the Monty Python boys, known for their strange inventions. It comes from one of their early episodes which was one of their odd, one-off episode (the episode was devoted, largely, to a single sketch, rather than their usual variety). I can’t imagine what they boys wrote on their request slip to the BBC costume department,but they got something special. Watching the large, goopy blancmange lumber about a tennis court is a marvel to behold, and a hugely funny sight.

 

A blancmange, by the way, is a gelatin-like desert, similar to flan, and flavored of almonds.

 

 

 

Witney Seibold is a gigantic living cheesewheel living in an enchanted castle perched precariously on top of the Seattle Space Needle. He leaves his home at night to fight crime, collect weird movies on VHS, and train his secret army of lobster minions. He owns a wicked collection of celebrity dentures, and can mend your pants like the Dickens. He has his own movie review ‘blog called Three Cheers for Darkened Years! where you can read nearly 900 of his published articles to date. He is the ersatz film professor of Crave Online’s Free Film School, where he walks you through obscure corners of the cinema world, but in an education context, and nothing like the weirdness you just read through. He is also half the voice of The B-Movies Podcast, also for Crave Online, wherein he talks about movies on a weekly basis with William Bibbiani. Read the ‘blog, learn the lessons, and subscribe to the podcast, because his little cheesewheel heart needs the validation.

 I am an enormous Trekkie. I watched the original “Star Trek” as a child, religiously followed “Next Generation” and followed “Deep Space Nine” and “Voyager” for as long as I could, until I had to leave the state for college (and subsequently lost any free time I had for regularly-scheduled TV shows). I even watched much of “Enterprise” and can even argue in its defense. I am proud of my status as a Trekkie, as, even in the current cultural climate of geek tolerance, Trekkies seem to be outsiders (J.J. Abrams’ attempt to sex up the franchise notwithstanding). Trekkies are, therefore, the TRUE geeks, and not affected mainstreamers with vague geek interests (*cough* modern day Doctor Who *cough*). This is something to flaunt.

Because of my long-standing Trekkie-dom, and in a fit of nostalgia, I have been watching rented DVDs of “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” to see if the show holds up in any capacity. A brief editorial: DS9 is a little stilted when compared to its contemporaries, and features some on-and-off acting from the mostly talented cast. It does suffer from the “X-Files” syndrome, in that the stand-alone episodes are strong, but the overall “story arc” episodes approach insufferable.

In honor of my own personal, and incredibly nerdy, look back on “Star Trek”, I got to thinking of space stations, and how they are such a strong and ubiquitous presence in sci-fi. Remote lunar bases, floating headquarters, wicked satellites… eventually any sci-fi TV show or movie will come across one of these. I’ve always liked the idea of living on a space station, so let’s jump into the vast inky vacuum of space, and take a look at some of the best space stations in fiction.

10) Thunderbird 5

from “Thunderbirds” (1965-1966)

 

Gerry and Sylvia Anderson’s “Thunderbirds” seems, these days, to be a forgotten curio, relegated to Gen-X trivia shows, and British childhoods. It’s a show about a team of elite rescue heroes, all members of the Tracy family, who fly in their souped-up machines (called Thunderbirds) to disaster sites in order to help people. And while it’s weirdly paced, a bit mannered, and possessed of a huge amount of outright vehicle fetish, it’s still one of the more entertaining children’s programs out there. The two theatrical features that were based on the show, “Thunderbirds Are Go!” (1966) and “Thunderbird 6” (1968) are actually quaintly delightful adventure stories. Did I mention that it’s made with puppets? All of the actors in the show are marionettes, and the films claimed to be shot in a process called “Supermarionation.” That’s so damn cool.

There were five Thunderbird machines in all, each with a specialty. One could travel incredibly fast. One could haul cargo. One could zip around underwater. And Thunderbird 5, manned by John Tracy, was in constant geosynchronous orbit above the North Pole, checking in on the worlds disasters. Some might say that this is a little Big Brother-ish in theory, but rest assured that the Tracys are all unscrupulously honorable men. In this era of seemingly constant earthquake, war, and hurricane, having a benevolent watcher like Thunderbird 5 is a comforting thought.

 

9) Daedalus

from “SpaceCamp” (1986)

Well-remembered by the children lucky enough to have seen it, Harry Winer’s 1986 film “SpaceCamp” was the unfortunate victim of current events. It’s about a group of young kids, all picked to take part in SpaceCamp in Huntsville AL, who, thanks to some rigmarole with an AI robot, are accidentally shot into space, and who must use their wherewithal and intelligence to survive and return to Earth safely. The film was, sadly, released shortly after the Challenger explosion that year, and lost gobs of money. Too bad.

The sequence most kids, and me especially, seem to remember, is the visit to the Daedelus space station, fashioned after the incomplete, real-life International Space Station. The shuttle, you see, is running out of oxygen, and they have to carefully pilot their shuttle to the station, dock safely, and get some oxygen tanks stored on board. Unlike most space station sequences, the one in “SpaceCamp” seems to really take things like gravity and inertia into effect, making docking seem like a hugely difficult task. I remember watching Lea Thompson pilot the shuttle, and wincing in suspense.

Trips to the real-life SpaceCamp were frequently prizes on children’s game shows at the time (a friend of mine even got to go, after winning on “Finders Keepers”), so the movie “SpaceCamp,” despite the Challenger controversy, still fulfilled a lot of childhood fantasies of seeing what it would be like. Cool.

 

8) Drax’s Space Station

from “Moonraker” (1979)

 

Easily the goofiest of the James Bond movies (and that’s certainly saying something), the Roger Moore-era “Moonraker” features a hovercraft disguised as a gondola, laser guns, a super-powered blonde woman, a character named Holly Goodhead, a rare breed of flowers that is toxic only to humans, the return of Richard Kiel as Jaws, the metal-tooth villain, and one of the wackiest action climaxes ever filmed. The action climax, which takes place in space, holds the world record for the largest number of wires used to suspend actors in any one given movie scene. This seems like a dubious honor to me.

The films’ bad guy, Hugo Drax (Michael Lionsdale), has his own personal space station, you see, where he plans on using the aforementioned toxin to poison the world, and take over. Dumb plan, but whatever. He has people his station with silver-jumpsuited thugs with laser guns, and they go off perhaps a little too often for comfort in an oxygen bubble out in a vacuum. What I like about the station, though, is that it’s viewed as a super luxury for the ultra rich. Like owning your own space station is the height of plutocratic decadence. Sure, you need to be insanely wealthy to own something like that, but how convenient is it to have a lounge in space? As “Moonraker” points out, it’s super-easy, and super-awesome.

 

7) The Peak

from “S.W.O.R.D.” (2010)

Kind of like an inverted Thunderbird 5, The Peak is a space station designed to watch over and protect Earth, but in the case of The Peak, from any potentially invading space aliens. The Peak is the base of operations for the government organization S.W.O.R.D. (Sentient World Observation and Response Department), which is a space-based counterpart to Marvel Comics’ S.H.I.E.L.D., itself floating above Earth in a giant airship, but bound to Earthly matters.

The Peak was, as the name implies, artificially intelligent, and the hardworking crew, led by the stalwart Abigail Brand, were able to track down and imprison some of the Marvel universe’s more notorious supporting aliens (as well as some well-known alien heroes… oops). Simultaneously remote and always involved intimately in Earth matters, The Peak seemed like an awesome place to work.

Some cursory internet research leads me to the fact that The Peak was conceived by cult TV icon Joss Whedon. A little extra boost for fans of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” I suppose.

 

6) Space Station 7

from “Plan 9 from Outer Space” (1959)

 

It looks like an office supply painted silver, and flying saucers dock there for regeneration, They simply vanish behind it. It’s a round ball with a thick plate intersecting it, and there’s a little metal knob on the top that looks like a robotic nipple. It’s unclear where this station is (is it in the solar system? In orbit around Earth? In a distant galaxy that can be easily reached by flying saucer?), how big it is, or how it works. We know that it’s the only place to talk to the Overlord (John “Bunny” Breckinridge), and receive directions on which plan to implement. The logical plan is Plan 9, of course. It’s easy to resurrect the recent dead.

There’s something so charmingly utilitarian about this station. So little thought went into its design and function, that you can only ponder its mysteries with a quiet awe. The aliens need a station, there it is. Done and done. Unlike the other stations on this list, we get no idea as to its use, or how it works. And yet, we know, in a very abstract way, that it’s necessary. After some brief thought, the station (like many elements of “Plan 9”) becomes a surrealist trick. A Buddhist trick. A Zen koan designed to clear your mind of conscious thought. Just sit back, enjoy the film, and marvel and the illogic of the universe. Reason, it turns out, is not what drives man.

 

5) Babylon 5

from “Babylon 5” (1994-1998)

 

Although it was created using some comparatively crude 1990s computer animation, Babylon 5, the titular space station from J. Michael Straczynski’s cult TV series, still looked pretty cool. It was run by humans, but played host to a rogue’s gallery of alien politicians, smugglers, travelers, etc. The premise is not so creative, but the impact was felt.

I liked the design of the station a lot. It was cylindrical, and rotated constantly, producing centrifugal gravity, adding a small bit of hard science to an otherwise otherworldly show. I did watch a few episode of “Babylon 5” back in the day, and saw the pilot episode many times off an old VHS tape that I made myself (the label read, merely “SCI-FI”). I didn’t get into the intrigues of the show’s later episodes (I do know that Bruce Boxleitner eventually joined the cast), but, from what I understand, it was very good about creating a huge tapestry of political intrigue and weirdly spiritual mythologies.

 

4) Deep Space Nine

from “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” (1993-1999)

 

Much like “Babylon 5,” “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” was about a station, in this case recently liberated from some wicked alien overlords, that stood out on the edges of Federation space, and played host to a rogue’s gallery of traders, smugglers and politicians. It was run partly by the human commander Sisko (Avery Brooks) and the Bajoran major Kira (Nana Visitor), and was constantly teetering on the brink of conflict with other aliens, including the Cardassian overlords who built the station. When anyone mentions the Kardashian sisters, I can only think of “Deep Space Nine.”

The station seemed spacious and easy to get around, and yet still kind of oppressive and alien. It has an open public promenade, which is a cross between a Vegas hotel, and a farmer’s market in space. There’s a Ferengi-owned bar, a tailor, a school (!), a police station and a hospital right on the public thruway. It, like a lot of the ships and station on the various “Star Trek” series, seems like a place that would be awesome to live in. I loved the design of the station a lot, and I’ve been pondering buying a scale model of it to build and hang from my ceiling. I haven’t yet, as I’m not sure if I’m prepared to be the 33-year-old married white guy who builds models of space stations from old sci-fi TV series.

I know there is a rivalry between “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” and “Babylon 5.” I will not discuss it here. For one, I am biased, and for another, I will leave that discussion to people more qualified.

 

3) Space Station 5

from “2001: A Space Odyssey“ (1968)

 

Not so much a station rich in character or backstory, we only see a few shots of Space Station 5 near the beginning of Stanley Kubrick’s indispensable sci-fi classic “2001.” We see people wandering around inside the wheel-shaped station, looking out over the spacial landscape, and chatting comfortably on the telephone. Not much goes on at the station, as it is, just like in real life, not visited too often.

What the station represents, however, is an important vision of the future, taken from the covers of old sci-fi pulp magazines, and codifying the images for all future science fiction movies and TV shows. The gigantic rotating wheel, the large, spacious interiors, the casual ease with which people can move through space, these all paved the way to just about every proceeding space opera, including future incarnations of “Star Trek.” Homage must be given to the standard-setter.

 

2) The Death Star

from “Star Wars” (1977)

That’s no moon…

 

1) Spaceball 1

from “Spaceballs” (1987)

 

Okay! Okay! I know! Technically it’s a ship. It is not stationary. It can travel. Indeed, it can travel at ludicrous speed. Perhaps, though, when the ship transforms into MegaMaid, it is a station, only capable of vacuuming air off of a planet. So I’m going to squeeze in Spaceball 1 at number one on a technicality. Hey. It’s my list. I make up the rules.

This is a ship so vast and terrifying that the ominous music that accompanies it gets bored while it soars quietly by. It is overseen by the dreaded Dark Helmet (Rick Moranis), and run by a race of assholes called Spaceballs. It has a circus, a zoo, a freakshow, restaurants, carnivals, a sassy AI system, and the ever-convenient self-destruct button (why do so many space stations and ships in sci-fi have a self-destruct option? Are there really that many situations where it would be needed?). You could live out several lifetimes on a ship so big.

I admire that the model for the Spaceball 1 was built before the era of CGI, meaning that a team of technicians had to spend literally months constructing the insanely long model for one of the best visual gags in a film that is stuffed with them. The original “Star Wars” showed how powerful the Empire was by showing how big the ships were. By that standard, Spaceball 1 is the most powerful and scary ship in the galaxy.

 

Witney Seibold writes sometimes. He has his own ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years!, where he reviews films, he has his own series of articles on Crave Online called Free Film School, where he teaches you film lessons, and he is half the voice of Crave’s B-Movies Podcast. Read the first two, and listen to the third. Fortify his ego. 

I’m trying to think of an American equivalent to Norway’s Arne Treholt, a man who, during the Cold War, worked for the Norwegian secret service, and ended up going to jail (and is still in jail to this day) for selling secrets to the Russians, which led to the destruction of an off-shore oil rig.  My mind jumps to Oliver North, although he never went to prison. Or maybe Scooter Libby. Picture, then, if you will, a film about Scooter Libby, wherein he is not only a soldier, but a super-efficient ninja master, with the power to teleport and access to super-advanced military technology like underwater motorcycles, and you’ll have a good idea of what Thomas Cappellen Malling‘s action satire “Norwegian Ninja” is like. Think “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind” with some ironic political heft.

 

“Norwegian Ninja,” you see,  recasts a disgraced Cold War traitor as a hardworking undercover ninja hero. Arne Treholt, played by Mads Ousdal, is a silent Zen warrior who lives in a peaceful island out in the fjords of Norway with his equally peaceful band of ninja trainees. They raise animals, become one with nature and learn the deadly ninja skills that the rest of us all learned from the movies. Their base is protected by some clever feng shui; anyone who approaches them will become suddenly ill or unlucky. They are an independent sect, although they report to a mysterious and none-too-scrupulous Norwegian spy organization. It is for this shadowy sub-CIA that our ninja team does to occasional job, sneaking around on the ocean’s floor, looking for rogue Russian subs. They attend meetings by appearing in puffs of smoke, and they are all constantly dispensing pieces of Zen-like wisdom. When they, in turn, become enlightened, their heads literally glow with a white light.

The plot is a little impenetrable, and I imagine it’s easier to follow, and perhaps even more enjoyable, the more you know about the Treholt scandal. There is a lot of talk of training a new ninja, nicknamed Bumblebee (Øyvind V. Kjeksrud), and a few amusing scenes of the ninja camp eating sausages, and doing some hard ninja training. As it stands, the film is kind of hard to follow, and speeds through covert spy missions with such a furious pace that it’s hard to tell what’s going on, which characters are betraying which other characters, and a lot of the film gets lost in a mess of plotting. Luckily, the film is just weird enough to keep the attention of even the most ignorant of Americans. It’s a broad satire that takes the familiar tropes of American spy-themed action flicks, and uses them to parody the reputation of a disgraced antihero.

Consider this: The Cold War movies that I grew up with in the U.S. often featured muscle-bound, gun-toting badass hero types (often played by Sylvester Stallone or Arnold Schwarzenegger), who would bravely fight off the Cold War baddies, sneering, and proudly standing for a ‘roided-out American ideal (the fact the Schwarzenegger is Austrian notwithstanding). The reality of the Cold War probably cleaved closer to a bureaucracy, wherein folks in suits were swapping secrets, the CIA occasionally killed someone, and no enormous ground battles were fought; in reality the Cold War featured a lot fewer rocket launchers than in the movies. What “Norwegian Ninja” is trying to do, it seems to me, is blend the dull suit-wearing side of the Cold War with the explodey, vigilante-from-the-movies side.

 

The result is, as I say, a bit sloppy, but it’s a genuine thrill to see a bureaucrat recast as an action hero. It’s also fun to see another country repurpose the well-known action tropes from American exploitation movies, and use them to define their own national identity. Ninjas, it turns out, are universal.

 

Opening this past weekend was the latest in Luc Besson’s continued attempts to dominate America’s box offices with his revenge flick “Columbiana” starring Zoe Saldana. I’ve seen the previews, and while it’s nice to see Ms. Saldana spending the bulk of her time writhing around in her panties, it does strike me that she seems a little too dainty to be hefting heavy guns and punching guys in the face. Are you telling me that Zoe Saldana, who, despite being 5’7”, probably only weighs about 100 lbs., and could give a nicely placed punch to the throat of a 270 lb. thug, and still take him down? Hm…

 

This is a problem with a lot of action heroines in Hollywood. They are asked to play gun-toting badasses or jet pilots or soldiers, when they are clearly actresses who were hired for their ability to emote and perhaps their pretty faces, and have likely spent more time at the hair salon than they have actually working out. And women aren’t the only ones. There are plenty of hard-working and talented men in the business who, while being talented actors and charismatic performers, just aren’t the tough-talking action star type. None of this is to say that there aren’t plenty of tough, convincing performers around; those guys are everywhere. But there’s a difference between casting someone like Arnold Schwarzenegger in an action flick (as he looks like he could lift a bus and stare down a biker), and casting, say Ryan Gosling, who is better at brooding and soulful, subtle performances is something as violent as the upcoming “Drive.”

 

And while the attitude may be there, the toughness may not be present. Sorry, Blake Lively, but I don’t buy you as a jet pilot in “Green Lantern.” In the spirit of the unlikely action hero, and the weird attempts Hollywood often makes to shoehorn non-action types into action movies, here is a countdown of ten unlikely action heroes.

 

10) John Cusack

in “Grosse Pointe Blank” (1997), “Con Air” (1997), “The Ice Harvest” (2005), and others

John Cusack made a name for himself in teen comedies like “Better Off Dead” (1985), and soulful romances like “Say Anything…” (1989). An entire generation of young women fell in love with John, as he was always the more interesting, smart, nerdy guy that was sitting off in the corner, listening to really cool music on his Walkman, and ready to have a high-energy but low-key conversation on obscure bands, hip movies, and anything else that might be in his wheelhouse of artistic passions.

 

In 1997, he played decidedly against type in “Grosse Pointe Blank,” in which he played an assassin, and we actually saw scenes of him killing people. To be fair, he was a neurotic assassin, who worried about his job, talked to a shrink, and tried to reunite with the love of his life, but the film still featured a finale where Cusack had to have a violent gun battle with a rival assassin (I won’t reveal the actor who plays his rival, but he, as well, is also not known for action).

 

He also started cropping up in action supporting roles, like in “Con Air,” although he wasn’t really to one doing the heavy lifting. He’s also been in “War, Inc.” “2012,” and “The Ice Harvest,” all of which left me unconvinced that the soulful and interesting Cusack was a killer or a stunt driver. He can be intense, but stop putting guns in his hands.

 

9) Patrick Dempsey

in “Run” (1991)

It’s likely you have a crush on Patrick Dempsey too. If you weren’t into him in his earlier teen fare like “Can’t Buy Me Love” (1987), then you fell in love with his dashing doctor in “Grey’s Anatomy.” The man is handsome, and has that movie star sparkle that makes men want to hit him, if they weren’t so damned charmed by him. He’s a lover, not a fighter.

 

That didn’t stop him from trying, though. In 1991, he was seen accidentally killing a mob kid (sort of) on screen in a chase film called “Run.” He played a law student who go into an ill-advised poker brawl, and ended up being pursued by the mob in Atlantic City. I can see Dempsey as a kid in over his own head, but wielding guns, jumping over cars, and protecting Kelly Preston? That’s another matter.

 

I understand part of the action film appeal is that a regular guy often finds himself in over his own head (Bruce Willis wasn’t an action star before “Die Hard,” if you recall). But while some people, like Brice Willis, can prove tough and convincing, Dempsey didn’t really have me. He’s a handsome, charming, and talented fellow, but keep him away from guns.

 

8) Ethan Hawke

in “Training Day” (2001), “Assault on Precinct 13” (2005), and “Brooklyn’s Finest” (2009)

I like Ethan Hawke a lot. He’s like a confused bad kid who does more harm than he ever wants to. He’s the nice guy who hates screwing up. He’s the weirdo who is desperate to please you. Heck, he even once played a melancholy Dane unable to exact revenge. When he’s in his charm mode, he’s good. When he’s in his sufering mode, he’s great.

 

But when he’s in his kickass mode, he comes across as uncomfortable. In certain cases, this can make an action scene all the more intense (the bathtub scene in “Training Day” is notable), but in many cases, he seems too… I dunno, is “flinchy” too rude a word to use when regarding an actor you admire? When he’s discussing life matters with Julie Delpy in Richard Linklater’s films, he seems so natural. She he’s firing a gun, or playing a cop, he looks like he’s playing dress-up.

 

Ethan Hawke is not a cop. He’s a student. He’s a professor. He’s a boyfriend, good or bad. He’s a lout. He’s a rock star. He may be handsome, but he’s not an action guy.

 

7) Dennis Miller and Chris Sarandon

in “Bordello of Blood” (1996)

I’m really only mentioning this one because I have a massive soft spot for this film. It’s gory, funny, over-the-top, and is loaded with bare breasts and gallons of blood. It’s a latter-day exploitation movie that nearly has the pure spirit of the 1970s lurking around its edges. I know that it doesn’t have the best critical reception, and it’s plenty dumb, but, as a critic, I have to admit when I like something, and I like “Bordello of Blood.”

 

In the film’s climax, a greasy private dick (Miller), and a greasy televangelist (Sarandon) decide to break into the titular bordello, and spray the vampire hookers therein with gallons of holy water. It’s a pretty cool scene, as intestines go flying and half-burned, topless vampire women run in terror, all set to the strains of Krokus’ cover of “Ballroom Blitz.” It’s the brief action climax to a cheesy horror flick for the 15-year-old in all of us.

 

But it was downright embarrassing to see the wry comedian Dennis Miller, known for his smug coolness and intellectual obscure references, to spew out one-liners like James Bond. He actually says “cha-ching” after exploding a vampire in the movie. He warns another about a gun being half-cocked. Miller does his best, but not once in the movie did I buy him as a grizzled street vet accustomed to violence. Sarandon fares a little better, as his career has been more varied. Indeed, he played a vampire himself in “Fright Night” (1985).

 

6) Saoirse Ronan

in “Hanna” (2011)

Earlier this year, Joe Wright, better known for mannered period dramas like “Pride and Prejudice” and “Atonement,” directed a pleasantly surreal action flick called “Hanna,” where a 14-year-old girl, possibly genetically altered, stalked across Europe, evading authorities, and killing when necessary. Imagine if a wild wolf was a teenage girl with daddy issues, and you’ll see where the character is coming from.

 

Soairse Ronan, now only 17, had only been largely introduced to the world a few years previous in “Atonement,” and, thanks to her large blue eyes and intense acting (not to mention an Oscar nomination), already had something of a reputation as an upcoming thespian. Odd that she should be chosen to play a super killing machine in the fashion she did.

 

While the film did argue that she was genetically altered, and spent the bulk of her life learning how to fight and use weapon living in the Finnish tundra, I still have trouble seeing a 14-year-old taking down a heavily-armed CIA spook. The first few kills might be surprises, but after that, not so much.

 

5) Helen Mirren

in “RED” (2010)

Okay. Okay. Helen Mirren can do little wrong. She’s been in a handful of stinkers (see “Shadowboxer” sometime. Hoo boy), but she’s never been bad herself. She is possessed of the British actors’ work ethic that dictates that no role is small, and to bring your A-game even to the silliest thing. Whether she’s the long-suffering wife of Leo Tolstoy, or a brave owl, she’ll bring it. As a result, she’s appeared in a few action flicks, and was actually convincing in most of them.

 

But in 2010’s “RED,” I didn’t quite see it. Part of the appeal of “RED” was seeing classy older actors like Morgan Freeman and John Malkovich firing guns and rolling around, but all throughout, it was more of a fun gimmick than a necessity. About halfway through the film, we meet Helen Mirren’s character, who is, like all her co-stars, a onetime spy who is now long-retired. She is recruited to help out some buddies fulfill a mission that is to involved to write about here.

 

In the film’s climax, though, Helen Mirren takes the reigns behind an enormous tank gun, slips into a pair of combat boots, and fires away at the bad guys. Mirren’s face convinces me that she’s determined and skilled, but the filming and the situation strikes me as patently ridiculous. Again: Mirren is a treasure. “RED,” not so much.

 

4) Sarah Michelle Gellar

in “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” (1997-2003)

I got to see Ms. Gellar in person once. I was working at a movie theater in Santa Monica, CA, and she came to see some action blockbuster. To tie it into an above entry, I think it was “Con Air.” I didn’t talk to her at all, but she did pass within a few feet of me. She was tiny. Like, very tiny. Practically wispy. She looked as if a strong exhalation could push her against the wall. Sarah Michelle Gellar, I learn is 5’4” Plus she’s skinny as a rail. Yeah, she’s small.

 

And yet, she was chosen as the ass-kicking lead of the cult TV series “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” From what I understand, the show’s title was the central joke of the series, casting a pretty blonde hometown cheerleader as the unexpected inheritor of Vampire Slayer status. Talking to some of its fans, I learn that the show quickly became somewhat convoluted, once the heroine graduated high school, but I think the effect was the same, as you still has a pretty, skinny blonde stabbing monsters.

 

That little creature could not stab a monster. Maybe she could jump on its back and pound lightly on its head with her fists, but unless the vampire is resting in a coffin, and she had a good long windup on the mallet, I don’t see her being able to actually drive a stake into a creature of the night. I know Gellar did have much martial arts training for the role, and did a lot of physically arduous chores to get in shape for the role. But, sorry fans, she just doesn’t look like she could take down a vampire.

 

3) Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines

in “Running Scared” (1986)

The mismatched buddy cop movie was in full swing in 1986, likely thanks to the success of Walter Hill’s “48 Hrs.” (1982). As the genre progressed, the films became more elaborately plotted, a bit more toothless, and began to incorporate a lot more chases and shootouts. The pairings became increasingly bizarre, almost to the poitn of parody. But I can think of no stranger pairing (this side of parody) than 1986’s “Running Scared” which cast Broadway darling Gregory Hines and nebbish comedian Billy Crystal as cops.

 

Bu 1986, of course, “Police Academy” had already been with us for a while, and, well, if Hollywood could cast such a gentle soul like Steve Guttenberg as a street thug-turned-cop, anything goes. Why not get two funny guys like Hines and Crystal as cops? To be fair, they spend a portion of the film on vacation in Key West, but when they return to Chicago to close a case they never solved, the chases and investigating begin, and, according to legend, they come off about as well as Fletch.

 

Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines as cops. I just don’t get it.

 

 

2) Pretty much the whole cast of “Southland Tales.”

I’ve written about Richard Kelly’s bizarro sci-fi experiment “Southland Tales” (2007) in the pages of Geekscape before. It was Kelly’s attempt to make an epic political comment on porn, politics, Bush, WWIII, time travel, and the end of the world, all rolled into an over-the-top 145-minute, batshit crazy experimental film, peppered with recognizable actors. I don’t want to get into the story of it here, but know that it is an epic, twisted rigmarole that involved warring gang factions, political opportunists, porn stars, and rogue weapons dealers all vying for control in a near-future California.

 

Kelly, for whatever reason (if there is any reason around here), chose to cast a large slew of “Saturday Night Live” performers in tough roles. While I can buy Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson as a tough guy, I have much more trouble swallowing a ripped-up Cheri O’Teri as a dangerous Marxist revolutionary. Or Nora Dunn as the same. Or Amy Poehler. Or John Lovitz as a corrupt, foul-mouthed cop.

 

A lot of the film’s casting was weird anyway (Kevin Smith as a long-bearded old man was particularly strange), but having so many recognizable TV comedians fighting out a perfectly earnest, street-bound drug war crossed over the line of surreality. If you’re brave, watch this one. It comes close to HFS territory.

 

1) Cary Grant

from “North by Northwest” (1959)

Can you think of a classier actor? With more Hollywood credibility as a cosmopolitan man-about-town? Is anyone as charming and as urbane as Cary Grant? He is a legendary Hollywood performer, and I hardly need to spend much time ranting about his effervescence. He did star is a large variety of films, but he will be most often remembered as the erudite city boy, quick with a quip, and ready to with a wink.

 

Alfred Hitchcock also needs no introduction as the one-time producer of some of the world’s best thrillers and blockbusters. You’ve seen his movies. If you haven’t, start immediately. Start with “Rear Window” and work your way forward. Hitchcock liked to often cast actors against type, most notably Jimmy Stewart, reputed to be one of the gentlest and nicest actors to ever work, and who, in Hitch’s hands, played fetishists and voyeurs.

 

In his hit “North by Northwest,” Hitchcock cast Cary Grant as the wrongfully accused man on the run from bad guys. Grant has two spectacular and famous action set pieces in the movie, the first is where he finds that he is going to be dive-bombed by a cropduster, and has to flee on foot. The other is where he and Eva Marie Saint are dangling by their fingernails from the faces of Mt. Rushmore. Cary Grant is many things, but watching him do stunts and dive and climb and gasp, proves that, well, an action hero is not one of them.

 

Cary Grant is a legend, and deserves much praise. But I have to admit, I giggled the first time I saw “North by Northwest.”

 

 

Witney Seibold is a carbon-based life-form from the planet Earth. He is bipedal, endomorphic, a mammal, and, presumably, human. He has a ‘blog, and a podcast, and you should read one and listen to the other. 

They’re not seen too much these days, but there was a time in this country when comedy duos haunted the pop culture landscape the same way in which pop-culture self-awareness does today. Like roving packs of boy bands, comedy duos would haunt movies, television shows and radio broadcasts with a stirring regularity, leaving their mark on pop consciousness forever. The dynamic was simple and easy to imitate: one fellow would be the buffoon who constantly mishears orders, bumbles plans and spews malapropisms with the best of them. His partner (and I say “his” as there were few mixed-gender comedy duos) was always the straight-laced thinker. He played the role of the clear-headed one, the stone-faced straight man charged with acting as the foil for the comedy stylings of his hyperactive partner.

 

I’ve always had a soft spot for the straight man. The other guy may have always gotten the laugh. They may seem like they’re the witty or clever or appealingly buffoonish one, but they would never be able to stand on their own. They need someone who understands them, who can play off of their personality, to be truly funny. The clown is the punchline-teller, but the straight-man has the indispensable job of setting up the joke. It may not seem like it from an immediate examination, but that is a vital skill. What’s more, they keep the wildness grounded a little bit. If there were two clowns… well, we’ve seen how bad that can get in certain sitcoms. For every Mork, we must have a Mindy. For every Balki, we must have Larry. For every Lynn Fontanne, we need an Alfred Lunt (to be obscure about it). For every Farley, a Spade.

 

In honor of the often uncelebrated straight man, here is a countdown list of ten of the best. Let’s put on our stone faces, our exasperated expressions, and dive in, shall we?

 

10) Kyle Gass (1960 – )

Of the comedy bands to have grown to prominence in the last decade, Tenacious D is probably the most notable, and is certainly one of the more popular. Tenacious D sport a pair of acoustic guitars and play Dio-inspired folk tunes, all while espousing the aesthetic and attitudes of the heavy metals bands that were popular in the mid-1970s through the early 1980s. The images from metals songs – mountains, fires, Satan, demons, magic, screaming – by bands with names like Montrose, Black Sabbath, Saxon, and Savatage, were all payed stringent homage.

 

And while they both played guitar, most of the musical heavy-lifting was given to Kyle Gass, while Jack Black, now considered an A-list movie star, shrieked vocals. Much of the band’s personality seemed to be coming from Black, as he would be the one to banter, to scream, to bellow their message directly to the crowd. Gass would be content to be the sneering bald guy in the back while Black stood at the mic.

 

This was an important dynamic for a comedy band, especially with one espousing a myth like heavy metal. One of them needed to be so wrapped up in the actual music, allowing the lead vocalist to go to town. Gass would play the music, and he would be on the same page as Black in their worship of Ronnie James Dio. As Hollywood proves, Jack Black would be funny alone. But with Gass, he’s hysterical.

 

9) Bing Crosby (1903 – 1977)

Having made seven films together, Bob Hope and Bing Crosby are a comedy duo of the ages. Their “Road” films are an important staple in American comedy, and if you haven’t seen any of them, you’re behind on your education. They offered a particular brand of bawdy yuks rarely seen on this side of the infamous Hollywood Code, throwing out coded sex jokes with an alarming frequency. Bob Hope was often the schemer in Hope and Crosby films, and Crosby the poor sap who got dragged along.

 

While they were both funny, and often shared in the jokes, it was Bob Hope who came across as more buffoonish, while Crosby, with his soulful blue eyes, and crooner’s voice, felt more like the passive charmer. He serves as an important reminder that the straight man is often the lovable one who gets the girl in the end. Heck, look at Zeppo Marx. He always got the girl, and rarely got the gag. Bing Crosby, though, was genuinely charming, and would often make girls scream with his playful renditions of old standards. Put him next to a comedian like Bob Hope, and he becomes sparkling and charming and funny to boot.

 

The Hope and Crosby films have a big support in the queer community, as it doesn’t take too much sophistication to notice that neither of the boys ended up with Dorothy Lamour (who was the object of affection in most of the Road films). It’s been postulated that their frequent swearing-off of women was just a coded way of expressing their lustful desire for one another. I never got that from the films, but I did see a lot of sexual tension, and the inevitable threesome, in their future. I suppose, though, that this just adds an interesting layer to an otherwise innocuous and hilarious series of comedy films.

 

8) Dean Martin (1917 – 1995)

Much like Bing Crosby, Dean Martin was a charming crooner who actually had sold more records and had more hits than his more famous Rat Pack compatriot. His irascible drunkenness, it should be noted, was only a part of his act, and for many years, drunks were considered to be cosmopolitan and sophisticated adults, all thanks, in part, to Martin’s schtick. Martin was actually not an alcoholic (as far as anyone knows), and was just a funny and playful stage presence.

 

In 1945, Martin met an upcoming comedian named Jerry Lewis, and one of the most popular comic duos in history formed. According to history, their respective acts were flopping at the nightclub where they worked, so, in a panicked last-minute idea, they decided to awkwardly merge them, having Deano sing songs, and Jerry accidentally smash plates. The result brought the house down. The duo went on to TV and movie appearances for the next few decades.

 

Comedy duos are often about the pairing of opposites, and it’s hard to think of a duo that contained such opposites as Dean and Jerry. Jerry was a squealing maniac who could mug and whine with the best of them. Dean, of the other hand, was actually called “The King of Cool.” That’s just awesome.

 

7) Teller (1948 – )

Not so much a comedy team, per se, Penn & Teller have been a magician act for the past 30 years, whose act was, essentially, to gleefully eschew the pretentious trappings of magic, wherein thy would present their tricks to be less mystical secrets (a la David Copperfield), and more wicked pranks to play on saps. They are still performing to this day and have had several successful TV shows. One, romantically entitled “Bullshit!” featured the magicians gleefully debunking famous preconceptions, from small things like the health of “natural” foods, to big, controversial issues like Christian stories.

 

Penn Gillette was the noisy frontman of the duo, explaining all of the tricks, bellowing demands of the audience, and offering all of the complex setups for the tricks. The one-named Teller, who never spoke on stage, was often the victim of a “failed” trick. He was the one who would be locked into a cabinet that slowly filled with water, and would inevitably drown onstage. In their feature film, “Penn & Teller Get Killed,” we see Teller drilled to death, only to bounce back backstage. When he wasn’t the ersatz lovely assistant, he was the quiet schemer, doing the sneaky, slight-of-hand tricks while Penn ranted downstage about blood and whatnot. Penn would throw around fistfuls of fake stage blood. Teller would actually prick his finger and get a drop of the real thing.

 

The straight man is usually seen as the more intelligent one, and Teller often gave that quality. Not to say Penn was a mental midget; he was intelligent as well, but Teller gave the impression of being insidious with his mere silence. The Penn & Teller dynamic has yet to be recaptured, and likely never will be.

 

6) Dan Rowan (1922 – 1987)

For those of you who have not seen any of the seminal late-1960s sketch comedy Vaudeville-style TV show “Laugh-In,” you are sorely missing out. Imagine, if you will, “The Muppet Show,” wherein all of the Muppets are replaced by hugely charismatic, extroverted, talented comedians, and you might get an idea of what this hilarious, fast-paced twisted variety show was like. What’s more, it managed to really tap into the gestalt of the time, riffing on popular trends, and even landing – get this! – president Richard Nixon to say “Sock it to me?” If a MAD magazine ever came to life, it might look something like “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In.”

 

The show was founded and hosted by a pair of old-guard comedians named Dan Rowan and Dick Martin, who would appear at the head of every show to give some sort of monologue that they had penned together, but would feel improvised. Dan Rowan, in a very old-fashioned sort of way, would set up the joke, and Dick Martin would knock it down. But more than relying on the old-timey conventions, the pair would seem mildly drunk or high (which they may have been), and would giggle throughout their presentation, bringing a double laugh; one from the joke, and a second from the reading.

 

Dan Rowan was clearly the central mastermind behind “Laugh-In” and often felt like the crazy uncle who let his nieces and nephews run amok at a sleepover. That he positioned himself in the straight man role only added to his drunken statesmanlike appeal. He barely kept it straight in a comedy world of chaos. And we loved him for it. What a class act. What a funny guy.

 

5) Stephen Fry (1957 – )

I’m not just saying this because he once played Oscar Wilde, but British actor/comedian Stephen Fry is probably the reincarnation of the man. Like an enormous cherub, Stephen Fry has a permanent twinkle in his eye that brings a strange playfulness to most of his roles, and certainly colors – with a naughty brush – each one of his comedic line readings. He could deadpan with the best of them and could quietly smirk his way through the ranting of his co-stars. In “A Bit of Fry and Laurie”, Fry would often play the straight man to Hugh Laurie’s frequent insecure outbursts.

 

To really see Fry shine, though, one should track down the BBC’s mid-1980s version of P.G. Wodehouse’s “Jeeves & Wooster”, wherein he played the erudite and impeccable butler Jeeves to Hugh Laurie’s befuddled and blueblooded Bertie. In Wodehouse’s books, Jeeves is implacable and unflappable and Fry brings not only the endless sense of class back into the character but an ever-so-slight self-awareness to the situations that make some of the outrageous positions Bertie finds himself in seem almost plausible. Or at least he makes us wish they were. I cannot think of any other actor or comedian who could ever play Jeeves. Fry nailed it. He is Jeeves forever. An enormous feat.

 

Now that we’ve had a Jeeves and Wooster TV series, I think it’s high time for a Wodehouse feature film, either with Jeeves or with the Castle Blandings. I like Roger Ebert’s idea of hiring Aardman’s animation studios to do it. Who should play the voice of Jeeves? Oh course he should.

 

4) Bud Abbott (1895 – 1974)

I mildly slammed some of the old fashioned comedy duo conceits when I was talking about Dan Rowan, but it is, of course, important to acknowledge the man who codified those conceits, and gave what can amount to the Platonic ideal of comedy duo dynamics. That man would be Bud Abbott from the famed Abbott & Costello, star of radio, feature films, and shorts. And while Lou Costello, the funny, fat, nervous street guy, was always the recipient of the laughs, and would get just about every single punchline, Bud Abbott was the quietly suffering straight man who would toss out the setups with the best of them.

 

If comedy is about timing, nobody had better timing than Bud Abbott. He was able to, uncannily, get into a rapid-fire argument with Lou Costello, say goofy things, keep the energy high, and still seem grounded, in control and sane. He was the rock. The comedy of Lou Costello may have been funny on its own, but Bud Abbott was an all-important anchor. He was the example all straight men should look to.

 

If you haven’t seen or heard the famous “Who’s on First?” routine, stop reading right now, and listen. Yes, the mistaken identity conceit of the sketch is as old as Vaudeville, but I’m having trouble picturing anyone who could do it better, more naturally, and funnier than Abbott and Costello. If you’re an aspiring standup comedian, start here. Pay attention to the old masters. They will teach you lessons that are perhaps just as valuable as your contemporaries.

 

 

3) Desi Arnaz (1917 – 1986)

A Cuban musician-cum-TV producer is a strange candidate as one of the world’s most famous comedic actors, but we now have to contend with the great glittering monolith of Desi Arnaz, the long-suffering husband of Lucy Ricardo on “I Love Lucy” (1959 -1960), quite possibly the single most important comedy TV show in the medium’s history, and the long-loving husband of Lucille Ball, one of the sassiest broads in the biz. As a businessman, he was first-rate. As a musician, it’s often forgotten how talented he was. But it’s his work as a comedic straight man that I focus on here.

 

Ricky Ricardo was essentially a TV version of Desi, complete with the dashing hairdos, sexy Latin band, and wacky wife. Ricky was the breadwinner of the house, making his money on TV gigs, and would come home to a wife who would, through some elaborate scheme, find herself trapped in a freezer, dressed as a space alien or even in prison. Lucy’s antics were hilarious, but might have an undercurrent of unbearable sadness, had she been living with an angrier husband, or with a pushover husband or even living alone. Desi tempered her, gave her someone to love her. The show was, after all, called “I Love Lucy” as if to say “…And that’s my burden.”

 

Desi would come in, as if from another universe, and react in a completely baffled way. That he was from Cuba, and had a charming accent, added to his comic alienation from this crazy American woman. And yet he was able to temper his confusion, anger, and outright outrage with a sweetness, sexiness and charm that one rarely sees in sitcoms from the 1950s. The conceit of the “bickering couple” has always been tiresome to me and it rarely works even in recent sitcoms. What Desi brought to the screen was a real-life couples’ dynamic that never felt too square or dumbed-down.

 

2) Graham Chapman (1941 – 1989) and Terry Jones (1942 – )

A staple in all our lives, and one of the most beloved cult comedy shows of all time, “Monty Python’s Flying Circus” (1969 -1974) hardly needs my glowing endorsement or paltry descriptions to make you excited about it. What can one really say about this glorious exemplar of absurdism? That it serves as, at the very least indirectly, the inspiration for every living comedian? That its weird, quotable dialogue is repeated, ad infinitum, at every geek gathering, from two-man movie nights, to something as big as San Diego’s annual Comic-Con? That the subversive and surreal comedy show has not been matched? No, just go back and watch it again. Appreciate it. Study it. See it as a simultaneous microcosm of British subversion, and a universal plea for the unhinged nature of reality.

 

Of the Pythons, two played the straight man most frequently. If they needed a button-down type, a serious-faced army general, or a kind of wimpy beanpole, the group went to Graham Chapman, who, despite his ability to play weird with the best of them, was a stone-face on par with Buster Keaton. When one of the other boys was squawking madly in front of him, he had the singularly hilarious ability to look at it and say “that’s very silly.” Chapman was notoriously forgetful of his lines, but it rarely showed on camera. And even when it did, it seemed just as cheery and natural as everything else. Watch the segment again where he talks about being sexually attracted to mice. Wow.

But more often the straightman, and no less impressive, was Terry Jones, the short Welshman of the group and funniest woman. Often seen as a ratbag mum, or a tight-lipped stockbroker, Jones had a perplexed expression that was simultaneously overwhelmed, and yet perfectly accepting of the weirdness. It was Jones who stripped and played the organ. In what is probably his virtuoso performance, he has a legitimate silent film reel, in which he tried to strip in public, and was dandyish and serious the whole time. Top hole to Jones. He was the wackiest weirdo, but also the best balance.

 

1) Margaret Dumont (1882 – 1965)

When you think of the Marx Bros., the words “restraint” and “balance” rarely come up. What we think of is the chaotic, jazz-like riffing on reality done by out-of-control, child-like hellions. We think how much glee they took in tearing down even the simplest of conversational niceties. We think of their wry slapstick skewering of the upper class. We think of the jokes of Groucho, the mime of Harpo, the conniving of Chico, and, if we prefer, the charm of Zeppo.

 

But where would all those conventions and upper-class snootiness come from? Why from the hilarious and talented comedienne Margaret Dumont, who played the stiff society dame in seven of the Marx’s feature films. Like the Bros., her name and station would change from film to film, but she was always essentially playing the same role: In her case, a rich blueblood, obsessed with class, manners and status, and yet irresistibly romantically attracted to Groucho. She was the soundboard for the brothers, and offered all the perfectest of setups. “You can’t marry both of us! That’s bigamy!” “No, that big o’ ME!”

 

What Dumont offered was not a rich character (she rarely stretched beyond the fur-wearing rich lady, and rarely gave her characters any sort of depth or backstory), but a playful playmate. Someone who was willing, time and again, to riff with these guys. She never got in on the comedic action, but the occasional wink to the audience let us know that she knew what was going on, and was probably having just as much fun as the boys were. In terms of staying straight in the fact of comedic chaos, the substantial Margaret Dumont was an anchor better than the rest. She is my number one.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a writer. Read his ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years! Listen to his podcast, The B-Movies Podcast. Read his lectures at Crave Online’s Free Film School. Then weep. Weep for your soul.

In a recent article for Geekscape, I wrote that the true beating heart of the annual San Diego Comic-Con is the portion of the convention floor devoted specifically to, well, comics. While the movie previews in Hall H are still the most in-demand events of the convention, and panels on cult TV shows are passionately attended, it’s the hardworking artists and writers who sit patiently at their booths that really provide the spirit of comic books that made Con the sizable event that it has become. If Comic-Con ever withers in popularity, and the big studios eventually put further and further away from it, it will be the comic book people who will remain. The wonks who sell them, the artists who make them, and the weirdos like me, who buy them.

 

I spent a good deal of the Con wandering about the floor, looking for deals, and trying to discover something new to read on the trip home. I ended up buying several books, and have now, a mere few weeks later, finished reading them all. I have returned now with reviews of the comics I bought.

 

Know that I’m very much behind on my superhero consumption. The last superhero comic I bought in earnest was in 1998, and the last I bought for nostalgia purposes was in about 2001. Since then, in my occasional comics intake, I’ve been cleaving closer to autobiographical comics, and weird, one-shot personal projects. For those of you looking for an in-depth dissection of Green Lantern mythology, you’ll be disappointed to learn that I’ll be talking about artists like Evan Dorkin, Joe Matt, and Doug TenNapel.

 

Here’s what I’m reading:

 

Ghostopolis

by: Doug TenNapel

Doug TenNapel is a friendly, lanky fellow who is probably best known as the creator of the video game “Earthworm Jim,” one of the strangest video games I have played. TenNapel is strangely preoccupied with giant bugs, beetles and other nightcrawlers, and seems to take a great deal of pleasure in drawing them. In “Ghostopolis,” the bad guy’s lead henchman is a cockroach with a handlebar mustache, and the city is powered by a giant lightning bug. It may be about trips to the afterlife, but bugs will be bugs.

 

The story of “Ghostopolis” follows a teenage boy named Garth, living with his single mother, who finds he is dying of an unnamed disease. We also meet a grizzled cop named Frank Gallows (fitting name, right?) whose works for a special division of the police force assigned to capture ghosts and send them back to the afterlife. Frank is bored with his job, and frequently screws up. Although it’s an old conceit, I’ve always liked the depiction of policemen or enforcers of supernatural phenomenon as sort of bored. Even if your job involves ghosts, monsters or aliens, you can still get beaten down by the workaday drudgery of it all. Anyway, while Frank is chasing a Nightmare (depicted as a horse skeleton), he accidentally sends Garth into the afterlife with it. Oops.

 

Frank must now reunite with an old flame, the dead Claire, a pixie-haired mechanic, to travel to the afterlife to retrieve Garth and keep his job. To get to the afterlife in this universe, one must use a teleporting machine that requires so much energy, the batteries take years to charge up. While it’s a little too conveient a widget, this teleporting machine, TenNapel at least makes sure that they can’t be used too often.

 

Meanwhile in the afterlife, Garth finds a nightmarish landscape, populated by mummy squirrels, evil skeleton warriors, zombies and ghosts. Each creatures has their own territory, and the entire afterlife is overseen by the cadaverous Vaugner, who, it is explained, took power in a clever piece of Shakespearean political manipulation. Time doesn’t work the same way in the afterlife, so we’re not sure when all this went down. Garth manages to find Cecil, the ghost of his grandfather, who still has some family secrets, and who takes Garth around Ghostopolis to find his way back to the land of the living. There is, evidently, a ghost underground being run a saintly ex-Tuskegee Airman named Joe.

The story does get more complicated from there.

 

The book is the first of TenNapel’s that I’ve read that’s in color, and the artwork, compared to earlier works like “Earthboy Jacobus,” “Creature Tech,” and “GEAR,” is far more sophisticated; a lot of love and time went into this book. The people are still long-necked, bug-eyed caricatures, but the backgrounds are swirling surreal landscapes of exquisite detail. It’s hard to imagine TenNapel’s art getting better than in this this book.

 

TenNapel, though, still has a kind of pat approach to some of his material. It’s appreciated, in fantasy works, that the fantastical elements are presented as frankly as possible, so as not to alienate the readers, but when extraordinary things happen to the outsider characters, they hardly seem astonished. When Garth finds himself in the afterlife, he’s a little surprised, but is more annoyed than anything. Later, when he finds he has some eerie magical powers, he doesn’t comment on them at all. It would have been nice if he talked a little bit about his feelings on such a strange occurrence. If you found that you could suddenly fire energy blasts from your fists, and blow through a line of ghouls, surely you’d have some comments on the matter.

TenNapel is a Christian, it must be said, and it’s easy to see that Joe is a metaphor for God. I know the phrase “Christian comics” can turn the stomach of just about anyone (“You’re not making Christianity better! You’re making rock ‘n’ roll worse!” -Hank Hill), so let me assure you that, while TenNapel bothers to put God in his comics, he is not one of those obnoxious, sanctimonious preachy types like Jack Chick. He is, instead, putting a few subtle (and occasionally not-so-subtle) religious references in his books. And, since he’s actually concerned with things like story and scenario, the books hold up as actual stories, and don’t ever feel preachy. I talked to TenNapel about this at the Con, and he feels that if you try to write a Christian comic with an agenda, you’re actually doing an anti-Christian thing. If you are merely a churchgoer who wants to draw comics, it’s still o.k. to include violence, foul language, monsters and weirdos. Good for him.

 

“Ghostopolis” has been option for film adaptation by Disney and, as of this writing, is being produced by Hugh Jackman. It’ll be interesting to see the bizarro worlds of Doug TenNapel on the big screen.

 

The Poor Bastard

by: Joe Matt

Joe Matt is probably most famous for a cult Canadian comic called “Peepshow,” which is an ongoing autobiography about his own life, inspired largely by the works of Harvey Pekar. Joe Matt details his everyday life on the streets of Canada, shopping for comics, ogling girls, and obsessing over old Viewmaster reels.

 

Joe Matt is also a pornography addict, a middle-brow jerk, and outright misanthrope, and has a disturbing tendency to alienate everyone around him. When he does, he is thrown into vast inky depth of unbecoming self-pity. In “The Poor Bastard,” we see him at his worst. Or perhaps, I fear, we don’t. I have a feeling Joe Matt is constantly as horrible as he depicts himself in this book. He seems to be writing this book as a form of attrition. A way of confessing his sins to the world. He is embarrassingly candid about his lust for strangers, the type of woman he like (he has a weakness for ultra-skinny Asians and ethnic types), his intent on seducing the girlfriends of others, and his masturbation habits.

He also shows how enraged the world is with him, and how frustrating it is to date him. His long-suffering girlfriend hates him, and he clearly is uncomfortable with her. She disapproves of porn, and they never have sex. It’s surprising how long they stayed together. When they finally separate, it’s not a relief, but and excuse for Matt to wallow in more self-pity.

 

The comic is full of darkness and hate, and will leave you covered with a residue of depression. And I think that’s the point. Matt needs to get his darkness out of himself, and he is making us part of his purgative. Which of course begs the question, how much of this is self-indulgence, and how much of it is candid artistic confession? For small portions, it feels like Matt is being candid and self-aware. Over the long run, though, we begin to see the comic as abuse. Of himself and perhaps of us. It’s a kind of autobiography that opens up dark recesses and ask some important questions.

 

Who’s Laughing Now?

By: Evan Dorkin

Evan Dorkin is a refreshing blast of adolescent humor after the heaviness of Joe Matt’s porno confessions. His regular comic, “Dork,” has been collected into a few TBS, of which “Who’s Laughing Now?” is the first. “Dork” is essentially a freewheeling collection of brief sketches that Dorkin has collected over the years, compiled into a hard-edged compendium of his bleak, delightfully mutated sensibilities. Evan Dorkin is definitely for the happy mutant. A book for people who appreciate the joy of Godzilla, Magic 8-Balls, and Wooly Willy. But y’know, who can still giggle at a baby being exploded in a microwave oven. Actual piece of writing: “Crazy, huh? Just think, if this really happened… a couple’a pounds of steaming, burst infant… covered in a thick sauce of innards and milk or formula puke. Yeesh. And imagine the utter embarrassment–.” I laughed and laughed. Dorken then instructs you how to recreate the incident with a hot dog in a diaper. I think you already know if you’re on board or not.

 

Some of the regular features in “Dork” were decidedly dark, most notably, the sitcom spoof “The Murder Family,” which came complete with a theme song and canned laughter. The titular family would spend a good deal of the strip killing others, bandying about with severed heads, and texidermying their schoolteachers, all while making deliberately lame sitcom jokes. It’s a thin premise that proved satisfyingly twisted. Like a particularly funny issue of “Tales from the Crypt.”

Dorkin also liked to re-draw famous works of literature, wherein the characters were all drawn as armless Fisher Price figurines. This is a lame joke, to be sure, but I admired the hard work and research that clearly went into these pieces. The joke may not last for very long, seeing Holden Caulfield as a little round-headed smiley-man, but Dorkin clearly knew The Catcher in the Rye very well.

 

My favorite part of the comic, though, was the few pages where Dorkin merely listed the things that made life worth living. Dorkin has struggled with depression in the past, so these little simple reprieves seem heavenly and sincere. Pixie Sticks. Rene Magritte, The “Mission: Impossible” theme song. Checkered Vans. I like the way this guy thinks.

 

“Dork,” sadly, doesn’t necessarily age well. Much of the comic is devoted to a cynical deconstruction of the mid 1990s grunge scene, and asks questions about things like ska ‘zines, which are considered relics by today’s standards. As a teen of that era, I could relate, and I did feel a great deal of nostalgia, but it’s hardly relevant today. If you were born from, say 1975 to 1983, you might dig it. Otherwise, have someone of that age you can ask.

 

Zero Girl

by: Sam Kieth

After his groundbreaking “The Maxx,” Sam Kieth still had a lot on his mind. It’s weird, my relationship to Sam Kieth. As a teenager, I responded to his weird art and his bugnuts sense of mysticism. I lovedhis monsters and superhero sendups. Nonconformist fans of ’90s MTV probably know “The Maxx” well, as an animated version appeared occasionally late at night. As an adult, though, I can see just how relevant and mature the comics are in terms of rape, mother/daughter issues and the like. While he did like to draw monsters and weirdos, he really had some profoundly important feminist issues on his mind. His interest in such things has not diminished, as proven by the three of his comics I got at the Con.

 

The first one, “Zero Girl,” is about a young girl named Amy, 15, who has a strange affinity for circles, and a strange aversion to squares. Indeed, they seem to have magical powers for her. Toilet paper tubes defend her from bullies, and square buses are monsters. When Amy gets embarrassed, her feel leak a mysterious blue liquid. If you’re capable of getting past these weird magical conceits, you’ll be ready to tackle to meat of the book.

 

Amy is an outsider, who dresses kind of freaky, and doesn’t have any friends. Amy doesn’t seem to have a home or parents, and is looked after by her guidance counselor Tim, a handsome 22-year-old divorcee. As Tim and Amy banter, it soon becomes clear that they are very much attracted one another. Amy seems capable of having a real adult relationship (of sorts), and Tim doesn’t want to admit that he has feelings for Amy, as it is, after all, illegal to date her.

Kieth seems to be raising some rather spiky questions that are all too often reduced to back-and-white. Can a teenage girl have a real, loving relationship with an adult? What does age mean? How moral is it to pursue such a relationship? What is “maturity,” anyway? How do sexual dynamics work? Domination? And what are you going to do about the square-headed creatures that are trying to kill you? O.k. Maybe not that last one?

 

Kieth himself married a woman over a decade his senior, whom he met when he was still a teenager, so these questions are important to him. It’s a goofy, colorful comic full of monsters that manages to be kind of important and challenging.

 

Zero Girl: Full Circle

by: Sam Kieth

Fast forward several years, and we meet Tim’s daughter Nikki, a would-be lesbian, now in her 15^th year, and showing a tendency toward square bullyism. Amy is called, much to her chagrin, top help out. Tim and Amy fell out years ago, of course, and their romance was never realized. Now we have Nikki in the picture, and she seems to be attracted to Amy. Cue similar these as the first book, but hinging less on the romance, and more on Nikki’s absent mother issues.

 

“Full Circle” is a lot stranger than the first “Zero Girl,” and seems a little less focused. It does finally complete the story that seemed unfortunately unsatisfying from the first “Zero Girl,” (dealing, as it does, with Tim and Amy’s stalled romance), but it also has some weird hallucinatory magical conceits that are hard to get my mind around. Nikki, for instance, seems to have the magical power to control other people, and puppet them against their will. Despite some weird magical moments in the first series, “Full Circle” seems to skew a little too close to superhero-dom. It’s not until the end that we see what’s really going on.

 

At the end of the day, though, “Full Circle” is about a confused, angry teenage lesbian coming to terms with her sexuality. But not in that angsty way that infuses the genre (and it is a genre). Kieth is more interested in real people and their emotions, and uses his surreal aspects as coded ciphers. The man is brilliant.

 

Four Women

by: Sam Kieth

And now, the least surreal of Kieth’s works to date, which contains no magic, no creatures, and no superhero costumes. Now we just have 75 pages of one single harrowing situation. Four women are trapped in a broken down car with potential rapists trying to break in and rape them or kill them or both. Tense, claustrophobic, Kieth doesn’t let up for this one.

 

But more than a thriller, “Four Women” is very much about sexual dynamics, and how women react to a situation where they are going to be sexually brutalized merely because of their gender. Bev, Donna, Marion and Cindy are all of different ages, classes and experience and attitude, and yet they are friends. What happens when these dynamic and interesting people become reduced to their sex as their only defining characteristic? Whither feminism when rapists are outside the door?

I don’t want to describe any of the book’s story or events, as it’s a series of twists and thrills that should not be revealed. I won’t even say if anyone makes it out alive. I will say that it is the darkest Kieth has ever been, and yet how deeply personal he can be. In terms of feminist writers, Kieth is probably the most personal author working in the form.

 

The Monkees

It turns out that The Monkees, in addition to their TV show, were also the star of a short-lived comic book series. The comic is just like the show: wacky, full of dumb puns, and pointedly shallow to the point of parody. The Monkees are, in their own way, more interesting than The Beatles, and following their career can be far more edifying. I did find it curious that the comic’s artist, though, chose to give Mike Nesmith pointed ears.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a reader of old, weird books. He lives in Los Angeles. He writes film reviews for his ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years!, contributes the Free Film School on Crave Online, and is half the voice of The B-Movies Podcast. He loves you. 

For no reason whatsoever, and to come up with a top-10 list topic somewhat arbitrarily, I have selected a year at random, and have scoured my memory and film experiences to bring you the best films of that year. The year in question is 1977, which is notable to many geeks for being the year science fiction began, thanks to the popularity of a particular space opera. It’s notable to many genre fans as it was smack in the middle of the Italian exploitation era, and directors like Lucio Fulci were churning out horror films on a bi-monthly basis. It was the year “Godzilla” made it to Italy. Movies with titles like “Jailbait Babysitter” and “Satan’s Cheerleaders” were playing regularly at grindhouses.

 

At the same time, wacko art films were seeping slowly into the mainstream. Ingmar Bergman released “The Serpent’s Egg,” the “Raggedy Anna and Andy” film was released which is, if you haven’t seen it, one of the single most psychedelic animated films ever made. Ralph Bakshi’s “Wizards” came out. Paul Verhoeven made “A Soldier of Orange,” his first film. Largely forgotten today, films like “Julia” and “The Turning Point” each received 11 Academy Award nominations. 1977 was a healthy year.

 

I realize that 1977 is likely before many of Geekscape’s readers (indeed, even its contributors) was born, and there is an unfortunate trend with most young film viewers to stay away from any film before the year of their birth. Consider, then, this list as ten important recommendations. For the older readers, it may serve as a trip down memory lane.

 

Here, then, are the best films of 1977.

 

10) Saturday Night Fever

dir. John Badham

While John Badham’s “Saturday Night Fever” is often mocked in the post-disco era as a goofy curio, I come to remind you that it’s actually a dark and kind of edgy drama about a sexy NYC Guido trying to find his place in a scene, and win the approval of his disapproving family and peers. Like “Rocky” from the year before, it’s about a none-too-bright but warm-hearted mook trying to make good in the world. But whereas “Rocky” was about a thug trying to fight his way from the bottom to the middle, “Saturday Night Fever” is about a good-looking, rather vain, and talented nightclub rat only aspiring to be kind of the dancefloor.

 

John Travolta really gave his breakout performance with this film, having previously only played minor roles on TV, a supporting role in DePalma’s “Carrie,” and his infamous Vinnie Barbarino on “Welcome Back, Kotter.” In “Saturday Night Fever” he also proved he could play an angry young man with stirring authenticity.

 

It’s rumored that Gene Siskel, who often declared “Saturday Night Fever” his favorite movie of all time, not only bought Travolta’s famous white suit, but was also buried in it. The film also boasts one of the best soundtrack records of any movie, a record that sold millions. Watch it again. It’s a good one.

 

9) The Kentucky Fried Movie

dir. John Landis

Remember when spoofs used to be good. Not only good, but great? “Airplane!,” “The Naked Gun,” “Young Frankenstein.” These days, limp pop culture references, gay panic, and deliberate sexual crassness are all that seems to be needed for a spoof comedy (I’m looking at you, Seltzer and Friedberg). But there was a time, 1977 to be exact, when such films were beginning to find a renaissance in movie theaters. And it was largely in part to the release of “The Kentucky Fried Movie,” a slapstick effort so flip and so casual, and yet so calculated and brilliant, that it ranks among the best comedies of all time.

 

“The Kentucky Fried Movie” is a spoof of American TV at the time. Indeed, the film’s writers (Zucker, Abrahams, and Zucker) used their new techno-marvel, the VCR, to record late-night TV programming, and would then write spoofs of what they found. At the time, there were still a lot of local affiliates who filled their own TV spots with whatever they could find, including public domain kung-fu flicks, weird advertisements for local businesses, and the occasional sex film that sneaked its way into the mainstream. So the groudn was fertile for satire.

 

The result is a schizophrenic little oddity that featured such spoof ads as “Catholic Schoolgirls in Trouble,” “A Fistful of Yen,” and “Cleopatra Schwartz.” Not every sketch is fall-over funny, but the result is something that is stronger than the sum of its parts. It’s a milestone in American comedy.

 

8) That Obscure Object of Desire

dir. Luis Buñuel

Buñuel, eternally surrealist and ever the prankster, played one of his most talked-about tricks in his latter-day classic “That Obscure Object of Desire.” The film starred Fernando Rey as a wealthy Spanish aristocrat named Mathieu who slowly becomes obsessed with a younger woman named Conchita. Rather than go through any osrt of straightforward courtship, however, they play games where they haphazard orbit one another until they finally find themselves living together in a black cycle of sexual blackmail. There is affection and resentment in equal parts.

 

The trick, though is that Conchita is played by two different actresses. Like sometimes within a scene. Carole Bouquet with leave the room, and Angela Molina will return. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the changes. The woman just becomes another woman from time to time. Buñuel seems to be making the clear statement that our objects of desire are less about what powers they already possess, and more about what powers we give them.

 

Buñuel films are confusing under the best circumstances, but possess an eriudite, artistic joy that few filmmakers manage to possess. If you’ve seen none of his films, start with “Un Chien Andalou” and “L’Age D’Or.” Then see “The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie,” and “The Exterminating Angel.” Now you’re a little more educated.

 

7) House

dir. Nobuhiko Obabyashi

This is a weird-ass Japanese cult film that I only recently discovered, thanks to the hard-working theater curators around Los Angeles. It played at a few local arthouses, and is now notorious in the area for it’s batshit craziness. Odder still, The Criterion Collection put it out on home video.

 

“House” has no precedent at all. There is nothing that is like it. It was made by a famous director of television commercials who wanted to make a horror comedy, and who got the story elements from his five-year-old daughter. The film’s musical score was completed years before the shooting even began, so the music is staggeringly inappropriate for much of the film. The result is a whacked-out wonder that plays like an episode of “Scooby-Doo” as if Mario Bava had directed it after a fistful of mescaline.

 

A group of teenager girls decide to vacation at a remote country house, that is possessed by the ghost of something-or-other. There are killer cats, flying severed heads, killer trees, killer pianos, killer mirrors, killer living mattresses, and a finale involving a lake of cat blood. This is one to watch in wonder, nd is so striking, it deserves a spot on the list as one of the best of the year.

 

6) 3 Women

dir. Robert Altman

Imagine if Ingmar Bergman’s 1966 classic “Persona” were made in rural America by Robert Altman. That’s “3 Woman,” a stylish and stylized film from a director typically known for his naturalness and ease of overlapping dialogue. To be sure there is plenty of natural dialogue in “3 Women,” but there are so many surreal elements, it’s hard to see the film as taking place in any sort of palpable reality.

 

A teenage girl named Pink (Sissy Spacek) and a flustering housewife named Millie (Shelley Duvall) both work at a spa somewhere in California. This spa is strangely low on clients, and, the way it’s shot, could easily stand in for a post-apocalypse setting. The swirling desert winds and emotional distance of the characters suggest the end of the world. As Pinky and Millie get to know one another, we find that they are becoming more like one another. Then they decide to swicth places, just to see what will happen. The results are damning.

 

The third woman is Willie (Janice Rule) who seems to be the balance between the two women, but, by no means, offers them absolution or sanity. Altman has made some great films in his day, and this one, probably his boldest experiment, is one of his greatest.

 

5) Star Wars

dir. George Lucas

I refuse to fall for that revisionist crap, and refer to the film as “Episode IV – A New Hope.” It’s called “Star Wars,” and “Star Wars” it shall always remain.

 

I grew up a “Star Trek” kid, and was so busy taking down the lives of Kirk and Picard that I didn’t get around to watching “Star Wars” until I was 18, so, as a result, I don’t have the childhood affection toward the film that so many of my peers do. Having recently seen it a second time, though, I can attest for its timeless quality, its grand adventure, and its invention of a film language that the best action blockbusters all possess. Its storytelling conceits are sometimes goofy, and the characters are a bit thin, but to get the opposite is not why you watch “Star Wars.” If you want intelligence and real science in your sci-fi, watch “Star Trek.” If you want “mythology,” (whatever that means) watch “The Empire Strikes Back.” If you want pure, unadulterated action, adventure and spectacle, all inspired by the fresh-faced joy of old “Flash Gordon” shorts, go to “Star Wars.”

 

The version I re-watched was the original 1977 version with the original practical effects. The effects are marvelous and are still amazing to watch. It’s sad that Lucas has felt the need to erase his original effects and replace them with digital effects in his subsequent clean-ups. If you can help it, only watch the 1977 version. Know why this whole phenomenon began.

 

4) Annie Hall

dir. Woody Allen

A moody and funny and defining piece of work of an important American filmmaker, “Annie Hall” is still reviled by many young genre fans as the film that beat “Star Wars” for best picture at that year’s Academy Awards. But while kids would clearly take “Star Wars” over “Annie Hall” any day, grown-ups can appreciate the epic neuroses and playful-yet-mature look at grown-up relationship any day.

 

Woody Allen managed to, with “Annie Hall” find a balance between the goofy slapstick of his early career, and begin an era of an earnest and confessional look into his own romantic and sexual obsessions. The 1970s in America is typically seen as a dark and somewhat dour decade, giving us films like “The Godfather,” “Apocalypse Now,” and “Taxi Driver,” where the heroes were criminals or amoral crackpots. Films like “Annie Hall” were kind of a tonic. A film about relationships going bad, but looked at with a good deal of humor.

 

I still never liked the way Diane Keaton dressed in this film, despite her look launching an an entire fashion movement, but I do love the character she played who, like the women in “That Obscure Object of Desire” seemed to change based on who was looking at her.

 

Also, there’s that great scene where some New York blowhard is trying to impress his date by talking up Marshall McLuhan, only to have Alvy (Allen) produce the real McLuhan to discredit him. Golden.

 

3) Suspiria

dir. Dario Argento

Horror had never looked so good, and it hasn’t since. Dario Argento’s masterpiece is a virtuoso job of directing, composition, and terror that still scares me each time. Sure, the film is completely illogical, the dubbing is bad, the story makes no sense, and the acting is well past the line of camp, but for me, that only makes the film stronger. It is a delicious mixture of true dread, over-the-top style, and pure kitsch that is a product of its time, and one of the best horror movies ever made.

 

“Suspiria,” (the first of a trilogy) also features one of the best horror movie scores in the genre’s history, featuring a soundtrack by the Italian rock group Goblin, and has one of those obnoxiously repetitive themes that bored its ways into your ears and never leaves. The band, not convinced that their score would convey the appropriate level of dread, also shouted and whispered warnings on the soundtrack. “It’s a witch!” You can hear them cry.

 

The story, about a wispy American (Jessica Harper) trying to make her way at a remote dance academy is rife with Sapphic tension and soap opera dynamics. There is, naturally, a killer on the loose, and some sort of witch conspiracy at the academy. The story often gets lost in the style, but man is it fun to take the journey.

 

2) Stroszek

dir. Werner Herzog

Herzog’s documertaries are constructed like fictions. His features films always contain some element of documentary. No film director seems to straddle the line between the dream-like storytelling power of film and its necessity to capture ecstatic truth than Werner Herzog, and none of his films seem to exemplify this straddling better than “Stroszek,” one of his best, and the second best film of 1977.

 

“Stroszek” tells the kind-of true story of a homeless German man named Bruno S. (The “S,” I’m geussing stands for Stroszek) who plays music in a courtyard, and whose only friends are a destitute old man and a run-down hooker. Herzog did write dialogue and come up with situations, but it’s pretty obvious that Bruno S. is playing himself, and that all the little quirks and character choices were just Bruno’s actual idiosyncrasies.

 

When the sad trio moves to rural Wisconsin, looking for a better life, not much imporves, and Herzog looks at America (from an outsider’s perspective) as if its a bundle of broken promises and curiosities and tortures that just can’t really be understood. The film’s final shot is a marvel to behold. After all the tragedy and weirdness, Herzog takes us out on a dancing chicken.

 

1) Eraserhead

dir. David Lynch

I saw “Eraserhead” when I was 16 or so, and it blew my mind. Here was a film that took away all pretense, and just to the real depth of horror and fear that lurk deep within the brain. Fear. Pure. Clean. Unadulterated. Terrifying. This is one of the most striking film ever made. Truly unique. Images that hadn’t been seen before or since. It intensity hasn’t been matched. This is one of my favorite movies.

 

Henry Spencer (Jack Nance) is a fright-wig-haired nebbish living in grey-skied urban decay in a tiny apartment. He never smiles. Life has been drained of all its joy. All its color. It’s reached the point where his life is a surreal landscape from a Beckett play. He has dinner with his hysterical girlfriend Mary (Charlotte Stewart), and her family. They have Cornish game hens that come to life. He has a child. The baby is monstrous, and cries through the night. It looks like a calf fetus. He has dreams of a cancer-cheeked ’50s moll that lives in his radiator. Something is going on here…

 

Equal parts Beckett, Kafka, and complete originality, it’s been said that “Eraserhead” reflects Lynch’s own nightmarish experiences living in the big city, and his own anxiety about having children. He has confirmed the former, but is evasive about the latter. Lynch has never been articulate about the “meaning” of his films, allowing them to speak for themselves. He feels they are complete, and warrant no film school interpretation. Lynch’s lack of disclosure and seeming inability to articulate his exact meanings only proves, to me, how earnest and pure a film like “Eraserhead” is. This is not a representation or an essayic dissection or an intellectual exercise. This is a pure look at a depth of human fright never before reached.

 

Good one.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a film critic living in Los Angeles with his wife. He watch a lot of movies, and reads a lot of old books. He occasionally updates his ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years! which features over 850 of his articles to date. He is also one half of The B-Movies Podcast on Crave Online, where you can hear his dulcet voice discussing movies with William Bibbiani. He also recently started a series of articles, also for Crave Online, called Free Film School, where he shares his film knowledge with you. 

 

Greetings, Batman fans. Today we’re going to delve into a minute argument that is about as geeky as the one I wrote a few weeks ago about ’90s cartoon comedies. We are, once again, going to use this weekly article of mine to look at – and rank – a series of interrelated pop culture items. The subject this week? Batman’s most famous villainess.

While it’s not as common an argument, “Who is the best Catwoman?” is just as pertinent an argument as who is the best James Bond. And while we all have our opinions on the matter, I will attempt to codify the argument, and decide, once and for all (or until the next argument begins) which of these women is the best. How is my opinion more important than yours? It isn’t, frankly. Consider this an opening to a Catwoman-related dialogue.

Catwoman is equal parts catburglar, scheming villain, and growling sexpot. And while her motives, goals, and costumes (and sometimes even origins) have changed over the years, there is still something alluringly wicked about Catwoman. To this day, you’ll find young ladies dressed as one Catwoman or another at comic book conventions and on Halloween, and the character has been planned for Christopher Nolan’s upcoming Batman flick, due out next year (which should be interesting to see, as Nolan is notorious for his boys-only approach to films). Catwoman may not be as visible as Batman or Superman or Spider-Man, but she is well-known, and everyone has their favorite.

This may seem like an unfair omission, but, for the purposes of this article, I am going to disqualify the actresses who portrayed Catwoman in any of the animated versions of Batman. I know this leaves out some really talented actresses like Gina Gershon, Nika Futterman, Eliza Dushku, Melendy Britt, and Adrienne Barbeau. While they each had their unique take on the character, and many of them could growl seductively (Gershon in particular), it seems unfair to pit a voice performance against an actress who actually tried to put on that outfit, and actually do the gymnastics involved in kicking ass. No offense, my good women, but I’m leaving you for another article.

It also turns out that there are, naturally, a spate of international Batman ripoffs floating around in the world. Turkey, well-known for its famed ripoffs, has had several native Catwomen, and there are a few Filipino Batman productions in the world, with actresses with porny sounding names in the role. I have seen many films, but sadly, these are out of my purview. I will have to let them be for the time being.

There were, then, six actresses to have played the role on camera. Let’s start.

6) Anne Hathaway

from “The Dark Knight Rises” (2012)

She is low on the list because, well, we haven’t seen her yet. She still gets a mention, however, as she’s a good actress, and it’s fun to contemplate the woman in the cat costume. Hathaway has large, pretty eyes, long pretty legs, and a sweetness that can easily be offset by a very natural bitchiness, which is how I often picture Catwoman. I don’t know what plans Nolan has for the character, although it would be nice to see Batman faced with a strong female equal, rather than a series of hectoring girlfriends and damsels in distress.

According to internet rumors (and take that with as much salt as such a phrase would naturally inspire), she will be less a scheming bad guy, and more common thief in a cat suit. Depending on which comics you grew up reading, this is faithful to the character. Although she is all potential energy at this point, Hathaway should, at least, get a mentuion.

5) Halle Berry

from “Catwoman” (2004)

Pitof’s 2004 Prada orgy of a superhero flick is one of the most glitzy and breathtaking awesome pieces of misguided blockbuster bait that has come out in the last decade. What purports to be a shallow grrrl-power polemic plays more like an indulgent fantasy for diamond-loving, well-coiffed, make-up-obsessed, Cosmo-reading socialites who ever had the briefest flash of a superhero fantasy. In this film, Catwoman’s cat claws have bling on them. She wears leather pants and a $400 brassiere. What’s more, she seems to have strange mutant cat powers, which is a quality none of the other Catwomen possess.

In the role, Halle Berry looks fantastic. She looks good in the outfit, however silly it may look to even the most casual of comic book fans. She prowls and swaggers and cleans herself with her tongue. Her pupils occasionally turn into little slits. In terms of catness, Berry has it down pat. Also down pat is her indulgence in the film’s themes of shallow diamond acquisition, and the debutante’s preoccupation with landing a man. If you ever wanted a Catwoman for your spoiled Beverly Hills brat, Berry is the one for you.

This Catwoman (named Patience Phillips in this version) is so bugnuts crazy that I was tempted to bump her up the list, but the film is not quite HFS enough to warrant such a promotion. Sorry Halle, you were great, but the movie… no so much.

4) Julie Newmar

from “Batman” (1966)

Newmar played Minerva Matthews on 13 episodes of the iconic 1966 “Batman” TV series. I have heard numerous kids, of various ages, genders, and sexualities, express how seeing Newmar in her Catwoman outfit was enough to make them feel their very first sexual stirrings. She is the object of desire. The sexbomb. No so much wicked, as tempting. Newmar may not have brought much to the role, but, for many, bringing her body to the role was quite enough.

She was a model before she became an actress, but she was natural enough a performer, that she still played her parts well. What’s more, Newmar had a rather goofy sense of humor that played in well to the show’s strong-headed campiness. She would vamp it up to no end, which would, rather than stand out like scenery chewing, be folded into the show’s tone.

Newmar left after her start in “Batman” to pursue other things, leaving her biggest fans high and dry. While I like Newmar a lot, and, yes, agree that her catsuit was an important moment for many youngsters, I still feel that other actresses sank their teeth in a little deeper.

3) Lee Meriwether

from “Batman: The Movie” (1966)

Lee Meriwether did not play Catwoman in the “Batman” TV series (although she was in two episodes as a character named Lisa) But in the 1966 “Batman” feature film, she played a conniving villainess who disguised herself as a Russian reporter named KITKA (which is the Russian word for cat). Her Russian accent was wonderfully hammy, and her Russian outfits, equally so.

As Catwoman, though, she may not have has the popularly minxy figure of her TV ciounterpart, but she could growl even better, and brought an amount of glee to the role that actresses rarely disaply. Indeed, that was the most alluring aspect of the 1966 film: Classy and talented actors allowing themselves to cut loose. You could see the relief on their faces, and the joy in their roles. Meriwether, spending her time with a maniac like Frank Gorshin, a class act like Cesar Romero, and an old guard like Burgess Meredith was able to match all of them.

Meriwther was one of those hard-working television actresses whose resume is longer than entire autobiographies. She has a professionalism that I really admire, and she’s a delight to see, if you should accidentally catch her on old reruns.

Plus, she was the only Catwoman to actively seduce Bruce Wayne. Using a buggy ride and sexy talk. That’s no easy feat.

2) Michelle Pfeiffer

from “Batman Returns” (1992)

I love Michelle Pfeiffer’s performance in Tim Burton’s notoriously tragic “Batman Returns.” One of the ongoing conceits of the Batman universe is that his rivals are rarely superpowered dominators, and are more often regular, intelligent people who just snapped one day, and decided that world conquest/thievery/murder were the more logical courses of action. The bad guys don’t go to prison, they go to an asylum. Insanity is a powerfully dark undercurrent to all things Batman.

What Pfeiffer brings to the role of Selina Kyle is that unhinged weirdness that is so often lacking from the role. She shrieks like a maniac, prowls like a panther, and wears needle-thin claws over the festishistic outfit. She has no motive to dominate the city, to make a big score, or to even accomplish much. She is out to explore a twisted half of herself, giving vent to her madness. Pfeiffer is a hellcat in every sense of the word, and “Batman Returns” is a wonderfully hellish superhero movie.

Oh yes, about that outfit. Newmar may have stated our puberty, but Pfeiffer finished it. Even to this day, you can’t go into a sex shop, and not find a Catwoman outfit, similar to the leather vinyl number worn by Pfeiffer. All of the Catwomen have an element of sex, but Pfeiffer lent a darkness to the sexuality that hasn’t been seen since.

1) Eartha Kitt

from “Batman” (1968)

Yes, Eartha Kitt is clearly the champion in this contest. Kitt, a Harlem girl and daughter of a slave, started her showbiz career in earnest as a lounge singer in the 1950s, and quickly became a hit both here and in Parisian nightclubs. Lounge singers were already accustomed to prowling and growling on a stage in front of dozens of lecherous men, so the innovation to put that immediate sexual energy into a Catwoman suit and put her on TV is an inspired move.

Even though all the other actresses on this list are hardworking women, and each have their talents, few of them possess the sheer amount of life that Kitt had. Kitt lived hard, experienced a lot, and came out on the other side with a twinkle in her eye, and an uncanny ability to seduce with a wink and a nod. Watch her video of “Santa, Baby” at some point. It’s a weird mashup of fetish, innocence, virtosic singing, and a clear-eyed sexuality. Kitt was an amazing woman.

As Catwoman, she brought forth every last bit of that life, making for a growling, awesom villainess that you’d love to hang out with, even when she was threatening to kill you. Like Newmar, she was sexy. Like Meriwether, she was a pro. Like Pfeiffer, she was menacing. And that she was a black actress captuing all that in the 1960s only gives her more credit.

Eartha Kitt. The best Catwoman.

Honorable Mention: Sean Young

When Tim Burton was still casting the role for “Batman Returns,” so the notorious story goes, Sean Young, famously hard to work with, kind of bitchy, and a ferocious performer, campaigned for the part by charging into Burton’s office in a Catwoman outfit she made herself, cracking a whip, and hissing at interns. She was, essentially, giving a freelance audition for the role under her own steam. She really, really wanted the role, and was willing to to go for the jugular.

Sadly, the ploy didn’t work, and Young’s performance went down on a list of why not to hire her. In my eyes, that kind of nutty, violent boldness is what I’d want out of my actresses, and Young would have certainly won me over. We would have lost a very good Catwoman from Michelle Pfeiffer, but Young could have brought the crazy just as well. As it stands, we Catwoman fans can merely sit back and dream of what might have been.

Witney Seibold is a critic and writer and layabout who lives in Los Angeles with his imaginary cats. He likes old books, old movies, and old video games. He’s an old man. When he’s not making lists for Geekscape, he is maintaining an occasional upkeep on his ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years! He is also one half of The B-Movies Podcast on Crave Online, which you should be listening to. He thanks you for your attention.