Ken Coffman's Fairhaven

Too many people abuse the term "homage" as a euphemism of "rip off" (I know I'm guilty of this myself, though I use it facetiously). When I use "homage" in this review, its intended use is the proper definition; "respect or reverence paid or rendered."

Ken Coffman's Fairhaven (ISBN: 978-0982773420) is a loving homage to the works of Charles Willeford, specifically the Hoke Mosely series (Miami Blues, Sideswipe, et cetera). The title plays off "The Grimhaven Manuscript" which I described in "Madness in the 20th Century" as:

An early draft for the second book in the Moseley series, New Hope for the Dead, is commonly known as "The Grimhaven Manuscript." Herein we witness Hoke burnt-out from his job as a homicide detective. He begins a quest for "absolutely nothing" and determines that this may best be attained through killing off his ex-wife and two daughters. Needless to say, Willeford's publisher refused the draft. The second (and successful) stab at the sequel, stands as not only the best of the Moseley books but of Willeford's oeuvre.

The Fairhaven of Coffman's title is Charlie Fairhaven, a rest home nursing assistant who finds too much pleasure in euthanizing patients around the Pacific Northwest. Curmudgeonly retired cop Jake Mosby (not to be confused with Hoke Mosely) gets reluctantly involved in the case when one of the customers at his decrepit bookstore dumps it in his lap.

Initially I was afraid that Mosby's grandson, Nort, would become a precocious source of comic relief a la Grandma Mazur from the Stephanie Plum books. Fortunately, Coffman handles Nort and all of the other oddball characters of Fairhaven well. Likewise, Coffman could have made Fairhaven more of a jokey send-up of Willeford. Instead, his references to Willeford's work are brief, appropriate, and appreciated.

Coffman excels at taught, compelling storytelling and has crafted a must-read for mystery enthusiasts, especially Willeford fans.

Buy it at Amazon.com.

Mommy, Can I Go Out and Read, Tonight?

My good pal Mike Faloon is going on another leg of his book tour. He's heading out west where they appreciate him.

Here's my review from Karen, the Small Press Librarian's blog:

This collection of short stories and personal essays by Mike Faloon ("Zisk", "Go Metric") plays host to characters who, though well-intentioned, often set their sites on goals that may not be the best for them... or those around them. Hanging Gardens kicks off with a series of stories about a small town in upstate New York. From there Faloon tells tales of his youth, from a sociopath who he went to camp with to a hilarious recollection of a high school job. Finding a favorite piece amongst all the gems in Faloon's work is tough but I couldn't stop laughing as I read his riff on Progressive Rock. Set it to music and you've got a ready-made piece for "This American Life." Faloon's stories are heartfelt and his writing is tight without a wasted word.

Here's all the info about the tour, re-posted from the Razorcake web site:

The “Mommy, Can I Go Out and Read Tonight” tour comes to Southern California. Mike Faloon reads from his new collection The Hanging Gardens of Split Rock (Gorsky Press). Todd Taylor (Shirley Wins, Razorcake magazine) and Matthew Hart (Gnarchives) read new stories. Good stories told well. Even if you don’t get the Misfits reference.

All readings are free and open to the public.

• Mon., Feb. 14th 6:00 PM, Calimucho HQ, 384 W. 15th St., San Pedro, 90731, http://calimuchohq.wordpress.com/ (Go around the back of the big blue house. Don’t be a square. Bring your Valentine’s sweetheart for a pre-dinner reading.)
• Tues., Feb. 15th, 8:00 PM, 12th & G Warehouse, 13390 12th St., Chino, 91710 with Matt Hart, http://www.facebook.com/TheWarehouseAt12thAndG
• Weds., Feb. 16th 8:00 PM, Public Address, 1268 N. Ave 50, Los Angeles, CA (Highland Park), with Matt Hart, http://publicaddresslosangeles.org/
• Thurs., Feb. 17th 7:30 PM, CSU Channel Islands, Aliso Hall, Room 150, with Johnny Tsaur
• Fri., Feb. 18th 8:00 PM at Stories Books, 1716 West Sunset Boulevard Los Angeles, CA 90026 (Echo Park), http://www.storiesla.com/
• Sat., Feb 19th 1-4:00 PM – San Diego Zine Workshop, featuring Mike Faloon, Todd Taylor, and Jim Ruland at The Ink Spot. This is a workshop. Please sign up if you’d like to attend.
  Art Center Lofts, 710 13th Street, Studio 210, San Diego, CA 92101
  http://www.sandiegowriters.org/about_where.htm
  Here's the link to the workshop for sign ups.
  http://www.sandiegowriters.org/programs_workshops_zineworkshop.htm
• Sat., Feb 19th 8-11:00 PM – San Diego, Vermin on the Mount Sushi Contemporary Performance and Visual Arts, 390 Eleventh Ave., San Diego, CA 92101 http://sushiart.org/

MIKE'S BIO
Mike Faloon has paid the bills as a DJ, dishwasher, and drummer. He publishes two zines (Go Metric, Zisk) and contributes to Chunklet, Razorcake, and Roctober. His first book is The Hanging Gardens of Split Rock (Gorsky). He lives with his family in upstate New York.

TODD'S BIO
Todd Taylor is the co-founder, co-publisher, and co-editor of Razorcake Fanzine, America's only bonafide non-profit zine dedicated to independent music culture. Prior to starting Razorcake in 2001, Todd clocked in five years as the general manager of Flipside, a zine that had been continuously publishing since the summer of 1977. Todd has published over 100 zines and has conducted over 300 interviews over the past fifteen years, earning him the title of the Studs Terkel of punk rock.

MATT'S BIO
“Matthew Hart (Gnarchives, Margin Mouth contrib.) reads unpublished stories.”

On the Air - Friday 12/10 at 2PM

Let's get down to it, boppers. Impossibly Funky is on the air Friday 12/10/10 on the Cinephobia radio show, live on 88.1 FM CKLN between 2 and 3PM EST. Are you outside of the listening area? Then tune in via the web at www.ckln.fm. And, I will also be on a future Cinephobia podcast available via Cinephobia-Radio.com. You can also subscribe to the podcast via iTunes.

Print is Dead! Long Live Print!

As I've been touring around telling the story of Cashiers du Cinemart in order to explain Impossibly Funky, I've been touting the zines that gave me inspiration. Factsheet Five, the catalog of zines, showed me the big bold world out there. Moreover, movie zines Shock Cinema, Asian Eye, and Teenage Rampage, really lit the fire under my butt.

Asian Eye and Teenage Rampage ceased publication after two remarkable issues. Teenage Rampage scribe Rich Osmond came aboard at Cashiers du Cinemart while Asian Eye honcho Colin Geddes has gone on to be a big shot at the Toronto International Film Festival. And Shock Cinema?

Shock Cinema keeps going strong. The 39th(!) issue has just come out and, as always, it's a winner. Here's a summary of what's in the latest from the Shock Cinema website:

The latest issue features interviews with Actor Luke Askew (Easy Rider, The Green Berets, Rolling Thunder, Big Love), Actor Nigel Davenport (A Man For All Seasons, Play Dirty, No Blade of Grass), Actress Marlene Clark (Ganja & Hess, Slaughter, The Beast Must Die), Director Michael Schultz (Car Wash, Cooley High, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band), Producer/Production Manager Paul Lewis (Easy Rider, The Last Movie, Targets). There are also dozens of informative film, DVD and book reviews, covering such titles as Zero Mostel, Joey Heatherton and Bobby Sherman in the Yellowstone TV-special Old Faithful; Rene Cardona Sr.'s bizarre superhero-romp The Incredible Professor Zovek; Celine Lomez in Denys Arcand's Gina; Lena Headey and Ian Hart in Peter Cattaneo's Loved Up; the Norwegian sci-fi mini-series Stowaway [Blindpassasjer]; Connie Stevens and Mark Damon in The Party Crashers; David Johansen in Mark Eisenstein's God Is On The Other Side; Andrzej Kondratiuk's Polish superhero-fantasy The Hydroriddle; Joe Don Baker and Tyne Daly in Speedtrap; Victor Dashuk's Long Knives Night and Reporting From A Rabbit Hutch; Ferd and Beverly Sebastian's On the Air Live With Captain Midnight; Jokes My Folks Never Told Me; Peter Lawford in the Eurotrash melodrama Walls of Sin; Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult's concert film Black + Blue; a pair of J.G. Ballard adaptations, Home and Low-Flying Aircraft [Aparelho Voador a Baixa Altitude]; Sweden: Heaven and Hell; Jay Cynik's Punch; Bob Moricz's A Palace of Stains and Bumps; It Came From Kuchar; Vittorio Gassman and Catherine Deneuve in Dino Risi's Lost Soul; Richard Roundtree, Roy Thinnes and Nigel Davenport in Charley-One-Eye; Michel Deville's paranoia-fueled sci-fi outing Dossier 51; The Canyons Of His Mind: Vivian Stanshall; Mary Jane Carpenter in Bert I. Gordon's How To Succeed With Sex; Peter Ustinov and John Astin in the comedy-misfireViva Max; Victor Argo in The Electric Chair; Elizabeth Campbell in Albert Zugsmith's The Chinese Room; Death By Popcorn: The Tragedy Of The Winnipeg Jets; Joel Schumacher's Amateur Night At The Dixie Bar And Grill; Nick Philips' sexploitation trio Oddo, Scyla and How I Got My Mink; David Petersen in Zale R. Dalen's Deadly Business [a.k.a. Skip Tracer]; Andre Perkowski's A Belly Full of Anger and Nova Express; Nicky Henson in Psychomania; JoAnna Cameron in B.S. I Love You; Andy Griffith and Sam Bottoms in the made-for-TV survival tale Savages; Shelby McIntyre's Strip Club King: The Story of Joe Redner; The Execution of Gary Glitter; Blanche Baker in Jersey Justice; Lynn Lowry in Radley Metzger's Score; George Peppard in "P.J."; Lucio Fulci's City of the Living Dead; and many more...

Pick up your copy or subscription today at the Shock Cinema website. You won't regret it!

Book Review: Homemade Hollywood

Former Mos Eisley Multiplex maven Clive Young has taken his love of fan films to a whole new level with his book Homemade Hollywood: Fans Behind the Camera. This diligently researched tome goes far beyond a fish in a barrel essay about the latest handful of dull fan films at TheForce.net and dives deep into the history of independent productions based on established works from an unsanctioned Little Rascals/Our Gang shorts (which may have been part of a grift, and perfect fodder for a heartwarming film) to Ernie Fosselius's Hardware Wars to Kevin Rubio's Troops to today's freshest crop of films which may or may not get a thumbs up from the rights holders.

The tales of these films are captivating and Young relates them via perfectly structured chapters. I thought I knew the stories behind some of the more recent films discussed in Homemade Hollywood but Young provides a wealth of new information that put everything in proper context. Great stuff.

B-Movie Celebration

Walking through the quiet city of Franklin, Indiana shortly after nightfall on a temperate autumn evening; the shops have closed, the traffic down the main thoroughfare light enough to give the impression that the town is abandoned. The lights change robotic despite the lack of cars to stop. A dog barks in the distance, adding perfectly to the air of loneliness that the town possesses.

I round the corner of E. Jefferson and Main and breathe a sigh of relief. I've found what seems to be the entire population of this tiny burg. The short block seems illuminated solely from the lights of the Artcraft Theater marquee. People mill about the entrance to the theater while custom cars line the street. Across the street a small screen is set up - I would later find out that this was "Franklin Beach", the venue for several music acts and outdoor screenings.

I have reached the heart of the B-Movie Celebration, a three day event of movies and the maniacs who make 'em. From Troma trash to Spaghetti sublime, the B-Movie Celebration was awash in some interesting fare.

What brought me to Franklin, Indiana was the combination of hanging out with Cashiers du Cinemart contributor Rich Osmond (Franklin's about midway between St. Louis and Detroit), meeting fave director Greydon Clark, and, of course, the movies. The initial list of films sent out in July left me salivating, especially with the promise of "many in glorious 35mm" -- a vague statement that left me a little disappointed.

The venues for the festival were a little questionable; especially the screen set up at the Benjamin's Coffee Shop. I was hoping to see Death Race 2000 on the massive screen at the Artcraft in glorious 35mm instead of projected on a tiny screen in the front of a working store where every customer was a distraction. Meanwhile, the seats at the Johnson County Museum venue were unmerciful on my bulbous behind. But, like Momma Bear's bed, the Artcraft was just right, especially when they broke out the 35mm prints of For A Few Dollars More, Fright Night, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, Transylvania Twist, etc. Seeing these rarities, scare-ities, and hilarities on the big screen like they were meant to be seen was a priceless treat.

I also attended a few sidebars featuring the writers and directors of some of the films featured including a rather enjoyable romp with a handful of directors including Greydon Clark, Tom Holland, Jim Wynorski, Lloyd Kaufman, Kelley Baker, and more: definitely an eclectic group!

Many of the proceedings were hosted by horror hosts Mr. Lobo and the lovely Queen of Trash. I was afraid they'd be cringe-worthy cheeseballs but they were anything but. They did a fine job handling introductions and Mr. Lobo even ran the Director's round table for a while.

Other highlights of the weekend included hanging out with Out of the Past honcho, Richard Edwards and family for dinner; talking movies as much and as fast as we could at the local pub, and finally meeting Greydon Clark, the man behind my favorite film, Black Shampoo.

I tried my best to not be a gushing fanboy when finally face to face with Clark. He was wonderfully effusive, introducing me to Tom Holland and talking about how wonderful Cashiers du Cinemart is. I presented Clark with a rough proof of the Cashiers du Cinemart book manuscript, asking if he'd be open to giving me a back cover blurb. He was so agreeable that I hit him up with, "Oh, and how about I run some behind-the-scenes images from the movie, too? And I'll need your permission for those, of course." He was all too happy to help with whatever I asked. The next morning he handed me a stack of promotional photographs, a mini poster of Black Shampoo and a pack of ad slicks so well-preserved that they looked as though they'd been printed only the day before.

I was thrilled to see that the 2PM Sunday screening of Clark's Without Warning managed to get one of the larger turn-outs of the festival. I'd never seen Without Warning on the big screen or with an audience so both were a treat. It was wonderful seeing Jack Palance and Martin Landau facing off in an over-acting contest while being pursued by an early version of The Predator. It made me wonder what forces could come together to get a screening of Black Shampoo, Satan's Cheerleaders, or Joysticks on the big screen...

I only wish I could have stayed longer and chatted more with the fine folks behind the fest. Alas, I had to hit the road and get back to my day job the following day.

For more photos visit Flickr.com.

Nit Pickers Anonymous

Why do I have to be this way? Why do I have to be such a nit picker? Why do I take one small bit and make it representative of the whole?

That's the case when I read Nikolas Schreck's The Satanic Screen. Satan's appearances on the silver screen have long fascinated me. I grew up during Satan's heyday -- the '70s. He was racing with Warren Oates and Peter Fonda. He was aiding cheerleading squads. He was popping out progeny like mad. And, he was making lots of girls do lots of naughty things.

Schreck expounds on Satan's many guises since the inception of cinema, starting with his portrayals by George Melies and concluding with his role in The Ninth Gate. Along the way, Schreck breaks down Satan's career by decade with special attention paid to his heyday in the '60s and '70s. Schreck's writing is informative and wonderfully scathing when skewering lower grade demonic fare.

So what's my problem with Schreck's book? It's not the omission of Psychomania, one of my favorite "pact with frog as Devil" films. No, it's his coverage of Boris Sagal's The Omega Man. I can understand reading the vampiric night denizens as a comment on the Manson Family but Schreck errs when he talks about a nuclear war and the protagonist's crucifixion. Yes, Neville (Charlton Heston) ends up in a "Jesus Christ Pose" but it's in a fountain, not on a cross.

Why am I being so picky? Mostly because I'm not familiar with 99% of the movies Schreck discusses. Thus, if he screws up the details of the one film I know then how am I to know that the rest of his coverage is flawless and he only messed up that one time? I can only hope he didn't and believe what I've read is as accurate as it is entertaining. I can definitely make exceptions for older films or movies not available on video -- there are concessions to be made for memory. But, The Omega Man?

Regardless, I recommend this read.

X-Men Apocalypse

For the last few years I've been buying and reading the Ultimate X-men books. But that's stopping, as of tonight, as of Ultimate X-Men 18: Apocalypse.

This issue is the culmination of a story arc that no one really knew was happening. It ties up a lot of loose ends into a hangmans's noose which it proceeds to snug around its neck before making an airborne leap in the final chapter (Ultimate X-Men Issue #93). It feels like this collection came about at a writer's meeting where someone secretly switched everyone to decaf.

"Okay, we need to come up with something for this issue and I'm tapped."

"We haven't seen that mutant serial killer in a while. The guy that's got to kill ten mutants and he's only killed four so far."

"Yeah, okay. That'll fill out an issue. But let's make it really easy for him to kill those other ten."

"Six."

"Yeah, six. What happens when he gets to ten?"

The silent response is deafening. One writer taps out a popular song on his notebook while Harvey Tolibao adds more muscles to a character he's doodling.

"He gets real big?" One writer ventures.

"No, not just big. Huge. He's like, the ultimate mutant. He becomes... Doomsday!"

"Doomsday's been used. He killed Superman."

After security is called, the meeting resumes.

"Like I said... He becomes... Apocalypse! He can take anything the mutants dish out. In fact, he can control mutant DNA!"

"What does that mean? He can morph their powers? He can turn them normal?"

"No, dumbass. It means that he's like the puppetmaster. He'll make all the mutants attack each other and innocent people."

("You can do that with controlling DNA?" another writer asks under his breath.)

"That's cool. He can use the mutants as his own army and it's up to the other superheroes to battle it out. It's a good crossover opportunity. We can get The Ultimates in there and--"

"No! No Ultimates! We need Spiderman and The Fantastic Four."

"Can we at least get Thor?"

"No, no Thor. I told you. Fantastic Four and Spiderman."

"Hawkeye?"

"He's dead, dumbass. And, not even the Fantastic Four and Spiderman can stop this guy. He's that bad."

("This story's that bad," quips someone in the back of the room.)

("If Spidey and the FF can't stop this guy, why are they here?" asks someone else.)

"So, who's going to defeat this guy?"

More coffee cups are filled. Someone makes a three point shot into a waste basket. Harvey Tolibao keeps adding muscles upon muscles on his doodle. Someone finally raises their hand and says, "How about Magneto?"

"I like it, I like it. Magneto from the FUTURE! No, no... better yet! Charles Xavier, from the FUTURE! Dressed like Magneto!"

"But Xavier's dead, isn't he?"

"Of course not! He got transported into the future. Um... It was all... a plan! Yeah, it was a plan that Cable and Bishop came up with and they've been working this all along. They knew Apocalypse would show up... cause... they're from the FUTURE. So, Charles Xavier's been hanging out in the future and getting all buff and stuff and he can totally kick Apocalypse's ass."

Harvey Tolibao starts a new doodle of a buff Charles Xavier.

"But, I thought Apocalypse was unstoppable."

"Oh, fuck, I don't know. Okay. Bust out the Phoenix. She'll save everyone. Damn. I'm tired. I'm tired of all you guys. I'm sick of this whole fucking book. That's it. Phoenix comes back, defeats Apocalypse, and turns back time to before I was on this fucking book. Story over."

"Can we do anything to make this story even worse?"

The sarcasm is lost on Robert Kirkman who answers, "Yes, we can. Tobliano, you're doing the art for #93!"

"Yes, sir!"

---

That might not be an exact transcription of the events behind Ultimate X-Men 18: Apocalypse but that's definitely how the whole painful experience comes across. That said, I'm giving up after that knee to the groin.

And what's with Tolibao? Just look at the monstrosity below. It looks like a mural painted by the Hale School "special" class:

Future X by Kent Smith

At NoirCon, I was lucky enough to see Gary Phillips discuss the works of Donald Goines, author of Dopefiend, Whoreson, et cetera. At one point there was discussion about the publisher that carried Goines's work, Holloway House Publishing Company. They also were famous for carrying the prose of Iceberg Slim (Pimp, Trick Baby, etc). Phillips discussed some of the other Holloway titles and mentioned Kent Smith's Future X. When he described the story, I knew I'd have to find this book and quick.

The year is 2073. The United States has been divided with parcels of land given to African Americans. These are institutionalized ghettos, surrounded by walls, guarded, and monitored heavily by police (called "Bruisers" for their love of inflicting pain). The story follows two men living in New Watts: Ashford and Zeke. Ashford is a radical actor who presents street plays based on outlawed books such as The Autobiography of Malcolm X (his great, great grandfather). Zeke works for The Man by day (for which he gets a pass outside of the city) while running a cell of Black Radicals by night.

It's only a matter of time until the two men's paths cross. As it is, the whole book becomes "a matter of time." From the opening scene which sets up a device used by law enforcement to reverse time after a crime has occurred (where the criminal would be arrested for something they intend to do), author Kent Smith introduces a science fiction element which sounds like it might rival the "pre-crime" scenario of Philip K. Dick's "Minority Report." When Ashford and Zeke team up, they decide to hijack the time travel device and use it for resetting history, going back to 1964 and encouraging Malcolm X to initiate a Black Revolution.

When Ashford finally sees his ancestor, it's the moment when Malcolm X is stabbed in an airport bathroom. Scared out of his wits, Ashleigh pulls off the greatest performance of his life, taking over the life of X. Black Power meets the Space Time Continuum in this insightful take which draws upon Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities. Future X also strongly recalls Michael Moorcock's sci-fi classic, Behold the Man, in which a time traveler assumes the life of Jesus of Nazareth, bowing to a fate which seems predestined.

Holloway was a notoriously cheap publisher. It's obvious that they didn't spend much (if anything) on proofreading Smith's work. It's dotted with typos, occasional homonym abuse (perfectly understandable), and an occasional misspelling ("looser" rather than "loser"). Luckily, these are easy to overlook due to the story being so compelling.

Superb, Man

It was folly to think that I was the only person writing about the long, hard road from concept to screen for "SUPERMAN V" as I did in Cashiers du Cinemart #15 with my piece, "Superman: Grounded". The subject had been fodder for blogs and message boards for years prior. I suppose I was hoping to legitimize the subject as well as provide my obsessive-compulsive hand to the mix by hunting down every version of the proposed Superman scripts I could find. I didn't want to rely on second and third hand accounts of scrapped scripts from such unreliable sources as AICN.

Synchronicity has provided another take on the sordid history of Superman adaptations, Jake's Rossen's Superman Vs. Hollywood. In this tome from Chicago Review Press, Rossen gives equal weight to the multi-million dollar fiasco that brought Superman to the screen in 2007 that left actors, directors, and screenwriters in its wake. He also chronicles Superman's earlier incarnations across myriad multimedia (radio, serialized shorts, television shows, animation, etc).

Having been immersed in "all things Superman" for a while as I researched "Superman Grounded" as well as "Superman II: The Long Strange Trip", I wasn't expecting a lot of surprises from Rossen's book. Luckily, he managed to pull out the aces with chapters on "Superboy" and other incarnations of Kal-El that I'd never witnessed. I was tickled, too, by the author's swipes at the "militant geeks" at AICN, even discussing the payola perks that its portly poobah proffers in exchange for positive plugs.

For anyone even remotely interested in the fantastic story of Superman's use and abuse by the men who have owned his copyright over the years, Rossen's book is a must-read. And, though he and I tread a lot of the same ground, his book didn't render what I had to say about the Man of Steel completely moot.

Spooky Encounters: A Gwailo's Guide to Hong Kong Horror

Somehow Daniel O'Brien's book Spooky Encounters came out without me noticing. I picked this book up a few weeks back and just couldn't put it down. O'Brien gives the most comprehensive history of Hong Kong horror films during the Golden Age of HK filmmaking (roughly the '70s through 1997) I've had the pleasure of reading since the second issue of Colin Geddes's groundbreaking zine Asian Eye.

At 180 pages, Spooky Encounters is jam-packed with information, reviews, and comparisons of HK Horror. O'Brien breaks topics down into the history of HK Horror, the Mr. Vampire series, the influential films of Tsui Hark, Category III blends of sex and scares, and the last days of HK Horror films in the wake of the '97 takeover. O'Brien ties the popularity of films back to their native HK box office gross which provides an interesting insight on how these films were received at the time compared to their legacy (or lack thereof).

O'Brien's prose makes the book easy to read. Moreover, his writing is clear and concise which helps to make sense of some of the more obtuse film plots and the use of Eastern legends in others. O'Brien doesn't take the easy road of gushing over the food films and demonizing the poor ones. His tone is even-handed though he doesn't shy away from taking some laugh out loud potshots when necessary. One of my favorite lines comes from his review of JULY 13TH / QI YUE SHI SAN ZHI LONG PO he writes, "While Alan and Laura appear to be back together, the enigmatic ending hints that their happiness will be short-lived. It also suggests that Wellson Chin and Abe Kwon didn't know how to end their film."

Highly informative and well-crafted, Spooky Encounters is a must-read for genre fans and cinephiles interested in an under-appreciated movement of cinema.

(Huh Huh) I Got Wood (Huh Huh)

Following up on an earlier post...

Despite my recent resolution to cease buying new books until I make a dent in the hundred plus novels that are littering my basement, I simply had to order a few volumes from Ramble House Press's Edward D. Wood Jr. collection -- the Woodpile. I was worried about ordering through Lulu.com as I didn't know if this "print on demand boutique" would take a few weeks or a few months to fill my order. Forget all that, I placed my order on a Sunday and it was at my door on Thursday of that same week.

Fans of Wood's purple prose can rejoice as Ramble House is presenting them as double dose trade paperbacks. The two that I've read so far are good looking and logical groupings of Wood work. There are a few typos and strange line breaks but these may have been in the original works (along with Wood's STRANGE use of CAPITALIZATION, especially of terms like GAY).

Wood's books don't disappoint. He has no shame in sharing his fetishes (repeatedly). In Suburbian Nightmare (sic), a collection of Suburbia Confidential and Orgy of the Dead, the female characters in each (and some males) clad themselves in angora. Each story also shares a disreputable funeral home owner with a penchant for necrophilia (a precursor to Wood's later film work, NECROMANIA.

Suburban Confidential follows the well-worn pattern of porn presented as psychology. Through a series of "case studies," the reader's taken on several wild rides that each showcase a different lascivious activity from the aforementioned necrophilia to transvestism to swinging and so on.

Via Ramble House, I've finally been able to satiate my curiosity about Orgy of the Dead. A huge fan of Stephen C. Apostolof's film version of the Wood story, it was fascinating to see how much of Wood's book was recycled for the screen. The same framework of Bob and Shirley witnessing the ritual judgment of the dead is here, though the dead here aren't an endless procession of burlesque dancers. Rather, they tell sad stories of their lives -- usually of pasts filled with perversion that are meant to appeal to the reader's prurient interests.

Per the comments posted by one of my blog's few readers, my only complaint about the Woodpile books is the same that I have with most of Ramble House's catalog -- the cover art is borderline atrocious. Rather than being seen in public reading something that looked like a children's coloring book, I had to make a book cover to hide the regrettable illustration. Apart from this, this collection is spot on and a wonderful addition to the canon of overwrought fetish lit.

The Killer Wore Cashmere: Redux

Way back in Cashiers du Cinemart #13 I penned a piece called "The Killer Wore Cashmere" about some of Edward D. Wood's literary efforts. Great news, more of the prurient prose of Wood has been released courtesy of Ramble House Books via the self-publishing site Lulu. Featuring over a score of tomes -- most of them boasting a pair of Wood works -- this is a treasure trove of trashy fiction; a cornucopia of carnal carnivals and torrid transvestite tales among other things.

I, for one, am placing an order for (at least) Suburbian Orgy (sic) so I can satisfy my curiosity about the book version of the classic ORGY OF THE DEAD. I long for more of Bob's stories about trees, or dogs, or daisies... Review to come!

By the way, I happened upon this recently -- something so obsessive that it has to be applauded, and certainly has been references by me quite a few times since discovery, a tribute to Criswell including a transcript of ORGY OF THE DEAD!

Ain't It Cool? By Harry Knowles

I often hear, "I didn't know you were a writer!" I quickly correct anyone who thinks this about me. "I'm not a writer. I'm more of a typist. I kind of put some words down on paper and hope that they form sentences."

I'm not a writer, and neither, it seems, is web scribe Harry Jay Knowles of the website AintItCoolNews.com. I've never been a big fan of Harry's website due to his laborious "scene setting" efforts that attain John Grisham levels of annoying details: "Every review I've ever posted has probably at least paid lip service to the circumstances in which I saw the film: going there, who you're with, what it reminds you of, how it reconnects you with the continuum of your life. I just think that's endlessly relevant."

Despite this irksome style, I thought I'd give Harry's book, Ain't It Cool? (ISBN: 0752264974) a chance out of "car crash curiosity" -- it's one of the few books I've ever seen attain a solid "F" in Entertainment Weekly.

Clocking in at 318 pages, Ain't It Cool? is an excruciating exercise in self-love. The introduction alone us a harrowing journey into Harry's tenuous metaphors and inappropriate peppering of movie quotes. In this case it's an overabundance of RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK lines. A few hundred pages later, Knowles appears to give other aspiring scribes advice in aping the Knowles style including these sagacious pointers: "If you're excavating the latest gleaming factoids from a desert of archeology, see yourself as Indiana Jones digging up the Well of the Souls, searching for the Lost Ark of the Covenant. Or a three-quarter-ton dolly happens to be down on top of you? Make it the giant boulder from RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. This isn't rocket science. It's free association and anyone can do it with a little practice. But it looks great when all of a sudden you do it in an interview." Obviously, Harry practices what he preaches. It's just a shame that he preaches such tripe.

Ain't It Cool? serves as another medium for Harry to use as a pulpit. Yet, it's also his confessional. It seems that Harry wants to come clean. He shares his twisted family history (TMI!) and shares his less-than-honest journalistic tactics. Harry describes how, after being carted to a Sundance screening of GODS AND MONSTERS, he "filed equally glowing reviews under seventeen different names, which I think went a long way toward convincing distributors that the film appealed to a broad cross-section of people." Harry doesn't claim that he was directly responsible but heavily implies that it was his influence that won the film a Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar. In another section, it's inferred that Harry's championing of James Cameron's TITANIC (a film he just won't shut up about) swept the Academy Awards as well.

There are a few "no duh" nuggets of insight in Harry's book ("traditional entertainment stories come from press releases," over-testing of films creates lowest common denominator entertainment) and one line even provided a belly laugh ("the late, lamented Film Threat Magazine") but the majority of Ain't It Cool? makes one's eyes bleed even when skimming through pages of self-congratulatory chiding of Hollywood and awestruck star-fucking. That it took Harry and not one but two (!) ghost writers to squeeze out this turd truly boggles the mind. If anything, at least co-authors Paul Cullum and Mark Ebner curtailed the excited punctuation from the "Impresario of Exclamation Points.

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Addendum: I remember hearing an episode of "The Howard Stern Show" in which Howard grilled critic Roger Ebert about Harry's appearance on Ebert's television show. The question of Harry's odor came up and Ebert denied that Harry emitted any foulness. Curious about Harry's alleged aroma, I consulted a friend who had put up (and put up with) Harry at a Southern film festival. "Tell me," I demanded, "does Harry stink?" With a roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh she confided, "None of the other people we hosted would even be in the same vehicle with him. Do you remember that episode of 'Seinfeld' with the stinky car? That's what my car was like after Harry had been in it." In other words, I think Roger Ebert was being nice.

Take my "Tarantino Inspiration" Quiz

So far no one's been able to score 100%: Tarantino Inspiration Quiz

I have to admit, I'm really enjoying FaceBook. There's so much more to do and much more interaction than MySpace. The advertising is less "in your face" (and doesn't slow my processor down). It's ironic because the developers that I've dealt with at FaceBook are as easy-going and helpful as their site while the folks at MySpace are as obtuse as their site.

I am having a bit of a crisis of faith, though. There's an application on FaceBook that I'm using that allows one to keep track of what books they've read. I've been going through, starting at my Junior High days, and trying to recall everything I've read. So far, I've only been able to come up with approximately 500 books. That number feels really low. I thought I was much more well-read than that.

Flicker: A Review

In his unrelentingly fascinating novel, Flicker, author Theodore Roszak masterfully mixes conspiracy theory, mystery, romance, and film theory. Feeling like a detective novel by way of Christian Metz, Flicker blends fact and fiction with fantasy to tell the story of Max Castle, the oft overlooked director of such films as SHADOWS OVER SING-SING and FEAST OF THE UNDEAD. The reader learns about Castle and his unique filmmaking techniques via revered film critic Jonathan Gates. Readers are taken from Gates's youthful appreciation of foreign films as a font of earthy sexuality through his carnal tutelage by Clarissa Swan, all the while with the specter of Castle's work acting as guideposts along the way, leading him into an underworld as dark as the lines between film frames.

More than anything, Flicker is a romance novel. It captures the passion for cinema. I felt such a strong kinship to Rozak's protagonist that I bought a dozen copies of the book after I was done with it to share with my "filmy friends." If that isn’t a recommendation, I don’t know what is.

Counterfeit Worlds

The only time I've ever been refused admittance to a film was when I tried to see BLADE RUNNER (Ridley Scott, 1982). Of course, I was just a few months north of ten years old so the box office girl was well within her rights. Little did she know that I wasn't lying when I told her that my mom was just parking the car and she'd buy the tickets if I couldn't. BLADE RUNNER was starring Harrison Ford — Han Solo, fer chrissakes! I would not be denied.

While a lot of the film was over my ten year old head, I was justifiably fascinated by the film. When TOTAL RECALL (Paul Verhoeven, 1990) came out and I realzed that both films were based on work by the same writer, I was hooked. I've been reading the short stories and novels of Philip K. Dick ever since.

After suffering through IMPOSTER (Gary Fleder, 2002) and marginally enjoying PAYCHECK (John Woo, 2003), I decided to pen an article for Cashiers du Cinemart comparing the stories of Philip K. Dick with the movies they inspired. I had been letting this notion percolate for a while and then I ran across Counterfeit Worlds: Philip K. Dick on Film by Brian J. Robb. This discover saved me a whole hell of a lot of work.

Robb does a great job of going through a cursory look at Dick's career before diving into the author's attempts (Mission: Impossible, The Invaders) and successes (an episode of Out of This World was based on his story "Imposter") in television and film. Robb's three chapters on the road to and highway from BLADE RUNNER feel recycled from Paul M. Sammon's Future Noir. At 73 pages, his coverage of BLADE RUNNER nearly takes up a third of the book, giving scant attention to other works. Certainly, IMPOSTER, SCREAMERS, BARJO, and PAYCHECK don't need as much coverage (although a mention of the ridiculous use of doves in Woo's work was sorely missing) but meatier works like MINORITY REPORT and A SCANNER DARKLY received pretty lean chapters.

While Robb's book isn't the be-all end-all that I was hoping for, it scratched an itch that I had had for a while. I hope that a future edition is in the works; something that will cover Lee Tamahori's NEXT (2007) and flesh out themes of vision and perception in MINORITY REPORT.

Time To Take Away The Typewriter

Just got done listening to Thomas Harris's Hannibal Rising. Wow. It's remarkably unimpressive. Rather than feeling like a groundbreaking piece of fiction it harkens to a slapdash film-to-book adaptation that makes the works of Alan Dean Foster look like Charles Dickens in comparison.

Apparently, Hannibal Lecter became far more interesting as he grew older (but not too much older!) as he feels completely two dimensional and more lucky than smart. In Hannibal Rising we're made privy to the childhood of a young Lecter as he struggles to stay alive in Eastern Europe during World War II. Here he confronts evil in the form of a handful of wartime scavengers who apparently find nothing too dastardly -- from cannibalism to white slavery to stealing art, they practically snarl and twirl their mustaches in melodramatic glee. After they chow down on Hannibal's little sister, he makes it his life work to track down and kill these men.

Not pleased by his vigilante justice is Inspector Pascal Popil. A font of misguided rage, Popil is as inept as Inspector Pazzi of Hannibal but without any of the charm. Popil may or may not be in love with Lady Murasaki, Hannibal's adopted stepmother (whom Hannibal may or may not be in love with also). Lady Murasaki just kind of hangs out, arranging flowers, spouting poetry, and accepting Hannibal's murderous ways. She's as three dimensional as a pressed flower, fitting in well with the other paper thin charaters that Harris presents.

Similar to the "make a quick buck" work that Harris did on Hannibal, this latest from the author who actually could pen decent fiction back before the success of The Silence of the Lambs apparently blew his mind reminds me of "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" with its chorus of kids saying, "So that's where he got the flying reindeer." In this case it's, "So that's why he eats people!"

Harris should have given up Hannibal after The Silence of the Lambs and left him to other authors. He seems to have forgotten what made Lecter enjoyable in the first place. Not only that, but he has even forgotten the physical description of his character. At no time during Hannibal Rising does he mention Lecter's polydactylism. A small thing, yes, but it just shows how out of touch Harris is and that he seems to be writing more for the screen than the printed page.

Based on what I read, I'd already recommend skipping HANNIBAL RISING.