And I’m back from the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival and my trip to Portland. It was, in short, breathtaking, at least once literally, as I am apparently very, very allergic to something that was up near Pittock Mansion. I took a few pictures, which I’ll probably post, at least to Facebook and environs, once I get around to sorting through them on my phone. I’m still getting used to this whole robot phone thing.

While there I got to meet a lot of awesome people, had a lot of awesome conversations, and probably missed at least as many that I’d liked to have met/had. I saw a few movies, though not as many as I’d expected. Nightbreed: The Cabal Cut was worth the price of a plane ticket all by itself, though some of the rough footage was, well, really rough. Beyond that, a few shorts, and a re-viewing of Prince of Darkness, the only film I caught was The Thing on the Doorstep, which was a really quite good retelling, though there was too much fuzzy golden light for my aesthetic preferences.

I bought a lot of exciting books, and saw a lot of interesting sights. Oregon still has my heart, as it has ever since I first visited, and I renew my vow that I’ll live there someday, by hook or by crook, a vow that’s more poignant now than ever as I’ve met a lot of great people who call Portland and its surroundings home. During my trip, I was sad to learn that Ray Harryhausen had shuffled off this mortal coil, leaving behind a world that is just a little less wondrous for his absence. The night of my arrival back I hoisted a symbolic drink to this honor, and watched It Came from Beneath the Sea, which is about as close to a middle ground between Lovecraft and Harryhausen as I’m likely to find. Harryhausen was one of the greats, maybe the finest monster maker who ever lived, and his legacy has meant a lot to me. I’ll probably post a little more about him in the next few days. In the meantime, I think I might need to backlog my To Be Read pile a little bit and haul out my copy of The Art of Ray Harryhausen one more time.

I’m not even going to try for a list of all the people I met at the HPLFF. You know who you are, and to every single one of you, thank you for your time, and I wish there’d been more of it. Getting back into the swing of things has been hard, but just before I sat down to write this post I wrapped up revisions on an 8,600 word novelette that I’d written before I left, so that’s got me feeling a little bit better about spending too much time watching Community and not getting a whole lot else done.

This is going to be a wild month, with Spectrum and ConQuest both looming on the horizon, and while my presence at both will be limited-to-nonexistent, if you’re coming into town for either don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll be at Spectrum for at least a day to stalk Gary Gianni like a weirdo, and we’ll take it from there.

This time next week, I’ll be winding down my first H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival! Where I will be seeing, among other things, the Cabal Cut of Nightbreed, which I am saying less to make you all jealous and more to make it real for myself because I am that excited. Seriously, I am more stoked about this festival than I have been any other convention I’ve ever gone to. I’m so excited that I just used the word “stoked.”

Anyway, I’m going to be a guest at the festival, which also makes it my first-ever turn as a guest. I’ll be doing a panel on Celluloid Cosmic Horror (with Brian Yuzna!, and a bunch of other people who’re all way more qualified to talk about that subject than me) and a reading alongside Amanda Downum and Andrew Fuller. Whenever I’m not doing one of those two things, I will probably be watching awesome movies. I’ll for sure be at one of the Nightbreed screenings, and I’m hoping to catch Solomon Kane and pretty much everything else that’s showing, too, which is actually impossible unless I get one of those time turner things from Harry Potter, and I am opposed to time travel on principle, so I guess that’s out.

Anyway, here’s a link to the schedule. My panel is from 1-2pm on Saturday, and my reading is at 1:30 on Sunday. I’m told there’ll be some opportunity for selling books as well, so I’ll be hauling out a bunch of copies of Never Bet the Devil, and I’m hoping not to haul them back. If you’re going and would like to say hello, definitely hunt me up. I have no idea what all I’ll be doing, but I can’t wait to be doing it, and I think it’s going to be a blast.

Marvel comics released a comic book adaptation of House 2 the same year that the movie came out. Honestly, it probably worked better in that format.

Marvel comics released a comic book adaptation of House 2 the same year that the movie came out. Honestly, it probably worked better in that format.

My new favorite thing is listening to commentary tracks while I cook or wash dishes. It requires the exact right amount of my attention, and I can kind of see the TV from the kitchen, so I can look up occasionally to get my bearings.

Recently, I was listening to the commentary track on Night of the Creeps, one of those movies that seems to get better every time I watch it, and was reminded that writer/director Fred Dekker’s first screen credit was as a writer on House (not to be confused with House or House), released earlier the same year as Creeps. I vaguely recalled seeing either House or its sequel or both back when I was a kid, and as they were both available on Netflix, I figured I’d give them another look. More the fool I.

House, from a story by Dekker and directed by genre veteran Steve Miner (most notably for me, director of my beloved Lake Placid), is basically insufferable. A lot of people (myself included, it turns out) harbored some fond memories of it from their youth, and lord knows it’s got moments of what almost feel like promise, but the whole thing is really just a mess. This in spite of a bunch of monsters (including one wearing a dress and lipstick like something from a Bugs Bunny cartoon) and a zombified Vietnam soldier played by the big bald guy from Night Court. The plot itself is almost exactly like an extended Tales from the Crypt episode, and it has moments that almost genuinely work, either dramatically or as a B-grade horror film, but it is also full of non-logic, and moments that veer into zany comedy that falls completely flat. It’s the kind of movie that’s better when you turn on the TV and catch just part of it and go, “WTF did I just see?” than when you actually try to sit through the whole thing.

Yes, this is pretty much what House 2 is like.

Yeah, this is pretty much what House 2 is like.

Which doesn’t bode well for House 2, written and directed by the same gentleman credited with the actual screenplay of House, who went on to direct a late-game Children of the Corn sequel and this bizarre-sounding thing about an elf superhero starring Jeffrey Combs, which I may have to watch someday because I hate myself. Fortunately, while House 2 isn’t a better movie than the first one, it is more consistent. It doesn’t have any illusions that it’s a horror movie, for example, nor even a Tales from the Crypt episode. Instead, it’s like a live-action pilot for a Saturday morning cartoon show, in which a couple of wacky friends (one of them played by the guy who plays Perlmutter in Castle) discover that their house is full of doors that let onto various other time periods. Supporting characters include a mummified grandpa, a mischievous baby pterodactyl, and some kind of thing that’s like a cross between a dog and a caterpillar (dogerpillar?). I’m not even kidding. And the villain is a zombified guy again, this time a gunslinger. And the whole thing revolves around a MacGuffin in the form of a crystal skull. It sounds like fun, and it occasionally is, but mostly it’s more fun to describe than it was to watch.

No wait, maybe this is...

No wait, maybe this is…

Both movies are sort of great in tiny spurts, and occasionally just jaw-dropping in their complete batshit insanity, but unfortunately neither of them are particularly great to sit through. If you absolutely must check one of them out, I recommend skipping straight to House 2, which has no real relationship to the first movie, and at least has dinosaurs and crystal skulls and such to get you by.

When I was very young (around 7, if I’m doing my math properly) I caught a few episodes of a syndicated horror anthology show called Monsters that I had to stay up late to watch. I don’t remember how many episodes of it I actually saw, but I know that I saw at least two of them, because those two remained stuck in my memory for years. Or, parts of them did, anyway. Recently, I tracked down the names of those two episodes, and last night I watched them both on YouTube before I went to bed.

Apparently, those two episodes (in spite of not being next to each other in the series) were once released together on VHS. That’s not how I saw them, though. For all that they seem to be the only two episodes I can remember, I know that I saw them both on TV. However, someone pulled the show off the VHS, and so both episodes are available together and in full on YouTube, which is how I watched them.

Monsters

Before I started, I remembered only a couple of things about each episode. The first, “Parents from Space,” I remembered almost nothing about. The story concerns a couple of raccoon-like aliens who come from space and take over the bodies of a little girl’s abusive foster parents. All I remembered was being really bothered and frightened by the ways the foster parents abused the girl (a specific scene in which her foster father kills a hamster really stuck with me, though in my memory it was a bird instead, for some reason) and being completely terrified of the initial appearance of the aliens. Upon revisiting, they are a little creepy, in a kind of muppet-y sort of way. (That’s them, in the top picture on the VHS box above.) Many a night, when young me was trying to go to sleep, I’d imagine seeing much scarier versions of them staring in my window.

The second episode, “Pillow Talk,” I remember much better. It’s very much the kind of thing you’d expect to see in a Tales from the Crypt, only less gory, of course, since it’s on network TV. It’s about a successful horror writer who gets all his ideas from an ancient Lovecraftian monster that’s masquerading as his bed. (Yes, it’s a killer bed story!) He has to lure attractive women to his bedroom in order to feed them to the creature, naturally. I remembered the bed monster, with its mouth-tentacles and rubbery maw, and I remembered the obligatory twist ending. In fact, I seemed to remember most of this episode, though I had forgotten how ridiculously awkward the main guy (played by John Diehl, one of the only other characters is played by Mary Woronov!) was. Jeffrey Combs would have completely owned that role, if that gives you any indication.

Revisiting these episodes, I have no idea why they stuck with me so intractably for all these years. They’re pretty standard horror television from the time period, though the monsters are actually pretty good for a low-rent horror TV show from 1988. Any show called Monsters is going to automatically have my attention, though, and the episodes are short, so maybe I’ll catch a few others on YouTube and see if I remember anything else.

(Because they are on YouTube, and recorded off VHS or TV, they look like crap, of course. But if you’re curious, or if you, too, remember these episodes from your own misspent youth, here they are below, if you want to sample.)

They use that skull welding mask in the ads a lot, but it's only in the movie for, like, a minute, tops.

They use that skull welding mask in the ads a lot, but it’s only in the movie for, like, a minute, tops.

Man, I do not envy the people who were actually getting paid to write a coherent review of John Dies at the End. It seems like a difficult and ultimately unrewarding undertaking. This probably won’t be one.

Almost immediately upon mentioning that I was seeing it, I was asked what my take on it was. That’s difficult to say. I enjoyed it, but I think whether anyone else does will depend more on them and what they want from it than on the movie itself. It feels incredibly long for only running 99 minutes. Not because it’s boring, but because there’s just so much weird crap going on all the time. It’s kind of all over the place, and its ambitions outstrip its budget on more than one occasion. But it’s got scads of monsters, and a manic, everything-and-the-kitchen-sink energy that keeps it from lagging, and Don Coscarelli is a deft hand at keeping the whole contraption from ever tipping completely off the rails, in spite of hot dog phones and topless dimensions and every other ridiculous thing. And while the metaphysical questions that it raises are the kind of thing that sound really profound to people who’ve never taken a high-level philosophy class, they’re actually pretty heady stuff for a gory horror film with meat golems and doorknobs that turn into cocks. (And the opening “ax problem” is pretty well executed.) So yeah, it’s a mess, but it’s an energetic one, and Don Coscarelli deserves some serious respect for making what could easily have just been a series of blackout sketches into something that works as well as this does. I have the feeling that, whatever your opinion on John Dies at the End, it would have been a complete disaster in any other hands.

Perhaps the most fascinating attribute of John Dies at the End, at least for me, wasn’t all the crazy monsters (although there are lots), or spotting the actor cameos (although there’s a fair few), or the philosophical underpinnings. It was that the movie tells a story that feels like it has no beginning and no end. It just kind of starts, then it jumps around in time, things happen, then it just kind of stops. Hell, the closing credits just go ahead and start playing in the midst of the film’s final scenes. It’s a thing that probably should feel frustrating, but instead just felt kind of fresh and appropriate here.

I haven’t read the book, though I’ve heard good things, so I can’t say how the two differ. I’ll probably pick it up soon, though, now that I’ve seen the movie. (Perversely, I like to watch movies first, if the opportunity to do so arises.) I’ll try to let you know how that goes.

Everyone reading this already knows that Halloween is my favorite holiday, right? And that the worst day of the year, at least in some respects, is November 1st, because it means the longest possible time until more Halloween. Well, it’s not quite two Halloweens in a year, but there’s apparently an Internet initiative underway to turn May 26-27 (or more specifically, the night in-between the two) into the Feast of the Long Shadows.

The name comes from a 1983 movie called House of the Long Shadows. By all accounts it isn’t very good (though I’ll admit that I’ve yet to see it, myself), but it has the distinction of starring Vincent Price, Peter Cushing, and Christopher Lee. Not just some of the greatest actors ever to be associated chiefly with the Gothic and horror genre, but also some of the genre’s greatest statesmen. We may never see their like again. As it so happens, those three dignitaries are also the reason for the celebration, or at least the reason for the choosing of the date. Vincent Price and Christopher Lee were born on May 27th, while Peter Cushing was born on the 26th. Certainly, it seems like a confluence worth noting.

The initiative, started by Italian author and critic Franco Pezzini and director Max Ferro, aims to make the Feast “a celebration of the creative strength and cultural import of the arts of imagination, of horror and wonder.” That’s definitely an idea that I can get behind. And having another celebration of the mysterious, the monstrous, and the macabre situated roughly opposite All Hallow’s Eve will make the wait for the next Halloween a little more bearable. So from now on, I’ll be celebrating the Feast of the Long Shadows on the evening of May 26th, probably with some movies featuring one or more of those esteemed personages mentioned above. I encourage everyone else to do the same, and spread the word. It’s a holiday worth having, and if enough people get behind it we can make it happen.

(Thanks to excellent author and editor T.E. Grau for introducing me to the notion.)

James Whale’s 1932 film The Old Dark House is one of my favorite movies of all time, full stop. It’s definitely my favorite of the great Universal films of the 30s, where it’s nestled amongst some very stiff competition. I can’t remember under what circumstances I first saw it, but I fell in love immediately. I bought the Kino DVD of the film, which at the time cost more than I was accustomed to paying for DVDs, but it was worth it. The minute someone puts it out on Blu-ray, I’ll be buying it again. I’ve talked about the movie before, in other places, but if you’e never seen it then I seriously urge you to do yourself a favor and check it out. It’s my favorite movie from one of my favorite subgenres, and I seriously doubt there are many people reading this who won’t love it.

Sometime early on, after I’d seen the movie a time or two, I learned that it was adapted from a 1927 novel by J.B. Priestley called Benighted. I was passingly familiar with Priestley’s name, and had run across one or two weird stories by him in anthologies over the years, and of course I wanted to read the book. Unfortunately, it was out of print, and had been since before I was born, which made it a little bit difficult to come by. I wasn’t able to scare up a copy of the book until just last year, when I finally got to read it for the first time. Happily, I loved it every bit as much as I loved the movie. Sadly, snagging a copy to read via interlibrary loan proved to be a lot easier than acquiring a nice copy for my collection.

So, when the folks at Valancourt Books, purveyors of fine reissues of Gothic and other hard-to-find volumes, said that they were looking for suggestions for 20th Century writers to add to their growing catalogue, I was quick to recommend that they take a look at Benighted. To make a long story slightly less long, they not only managed to pick it up, but also a collection of Priestley’s macabre short stories The Other Place (forthcoming). What’s more, they asked me to write the introduction to Benighted.

The point of all this is to say that the Valancourt Books edition of Benighted is now available, both in paperback and on Kindle. I just received my contributor’s copies in the mail yesterday, and the book looks fantastic. I have been really lucky so far in how great the books that I’ve been in have looked, and I can say without hyperbole that this one is one of the best. Take a look for yourself:

BenightedsThe folks at Valancourt were able to get the original jacket art of the first edition, which remains one of my favorite covers of all time. The book itself is a quick, charming read that also manages to pack in a surprising thematic density. I talk a lot more about that in my introduction, which I believe you can still read in full on Amazon’s “click to look inside” feature. It was the first time I’d ever been asked to write an introduction, and I can’t think of a more perfect book for it. Hopefully I acquitted myself well, and if not you’ll still have a fantastic novel to read once you get through my blathering.

While this book has very little of me in it by comparison, I’m every bit as proud of my involvement in it as I am in Never Bet the Devil or Fungi, so if it sounds intriguing, I’d urge you to pick it up, and browse the rest of Valancourt’s catalogue while you’re there, because they do great stuff.

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