BACKROOMS, OBSESSION, and WHAM!

Once in a while, Brugger and I both feel a hankering to go to the drive-in theater in Eden, about a half-hour down the way, and last night was one of those times. Over the years, we've had some lovely experiences there as well as some that were anything but up to snuff. Happily, last night was a winner...well, until the trip home.

The Eden Drive-In has two screens—the original, full-size screen and a more recent, pint-size screen with a correspondingly smaller parking area. The Mandalorian & Grogu played last weekend and was still on for this weekend, so we decided to check it out, since we both loved the series. However, once we arrived at the theater—about an hour and a half early—we learned it was playing on the small screen (it had played on the main screen last week), and that smaller lot was already damn-near full. On the big screen, they had Backrooms and Obsession, so we figured, well, fuggit, let's check them out. I'd heard good things about both from friends and fellow writers who'd seen them, and... hey... horror movies and drive-in theaters naturally go together. Huzzah!

 

It was a beautiful evening, and as it got darker, the breeze turned chillier... and chillier. We'd had the foresight to bring layers, so... hey, we felt happier than happy to get a break from the recent once-unseasonal heat. As the sun set, the sky turned all kinds of colors, and come full-on dusk, a bright full moon hung overhead. The perfect setting for us.

 

Backrooms was, to me, utterly brilliant — rather Lynchian, I thought, as if it sprang from the darkest heart of the Black Lodge. It's kind of the inverse of real life: a nightmare film, in which conventional reality occasionally asserts itself. Obsession similarly hit a level of intensity that I found disconcerting.in the extreme. Ms. B. preferred Obsession, while I preferred Backrooms, but that was all a matter of degree. We both loved both.

 

The only tragic part of all this was that, heading home on the rural backroads, I ended up hitting a deer. We'd seen loads of them along the way, so I was driving pretty slowly, but nevertheless, one came bounding out across the road at full tilt, and that was all she wrote. So, sadly...one dead deer. The damage to my car was minimal, but it's still going to require some body work, which is an expense we can ill-afford at the moment.

 

I hate hitting animals. Almost ironically, back in 2015, Kimberly hit a deer on the way home from that very same drive-in (see "Deer Damage"). In her case, the accident caused extensive damage to her car. Perhaps ironically, we'd been talking about that incident while we were waiting for the movies to start. Alas. Anyway, I feel horrible for the deer, and despite the pain the ass, pretty lucky that the accident wasn't any worse.

 

We had such a lovely evening, we decided that it was going to be our takeaway from it. Now, we're really looking forward to another drive-in movie night.

 

Peace out.

The Mummy vs. Cotton

Yesterday afternoon, Brugger needed to hop over Danville to deliver some medical information to one of her doctors, so we decided, well, maybe we should both go and make a little event of it. So, she did her business, and then we headed over to the Danville Stadium Cinemas to check out Lee Cronin's The Mummy (comments below). That took us right to dinnertime, so off we went to Cotton at Riverside Mill, which has become one of our favorite restaurants. It's moderately upscale, with pleasing decor and a scenic deck that overlooks the Dan River and the nearby Riverwalk (which I have visited for the purposes of geocaching many, many times). They make a dynamite gin martini at Cotton, and Kim enjoyed the wine. My double smash burger and Kim's cast-iron-baked meatballs did more than the trick. An awesome dinner.

On Lee Cronin's The Mummy... It was moderately enjoyable, with some effective, creepy set pieces, particularly the VHS video of the ritual that sets things in motion. Mostly, it's a rehash of The Evil Dead Rise, which I liked a lot better. This one could stand to be about 30 minutes shorter, as it felt needlessly padded. A fine enough way to enjoy an afternoon, I'd say, but I have no desire to revisit it.

 

So, our more or less spontaneous Danville outing turned out to be most satisfying — as well as much-needed given the severe stress to which I alluded a couple of blog entries back. Till next time...

A very creepy Natalie Grace in Lee Cronin's The Mummy

EARLY KAIJU FANDOM, VOLUME THREE Is in the House

Last year, writer/editor/kaiju fan Bradford Grant Boyle put together an omnibus of the fanzines he had published in the 1970s, titled Early Kaiju Fandom, Volume One. A great big book, it included reproductions of the original pages of his projects, including issue #s 2, 3, and 4 of Japanese Giants, the fanzine I created in 1974 and that he took over in 1975. He published Early Kaiju Fandom, Volume Two a few months ago, which included several fanzines he published that predated JG. And now, Early Kaiju Fandom, Volume Three is in the house, with reproductions of essentially all the rest of the 1970s/80s-era kaiju-themed fanzines, including JG issue #1, and a foreword by the Old Dude. Excerpt as follows:

“As far back as early childhood and as recently as just now, anyone who’s made my acquaintance, even briefly, would know me as a diehard daikaiju nut. I caught both Godzilla – King of the Monsters (1956) and Gigantis – The Fire Monster (a.k.a. Godzilla Raids Again, 1959) when I was around kindergarten age, and if ever a kid were smitten with city-stomping monsters, that kid was me. I was already keen on dinosaurs, and Godzilla elevated my fondness for oversized reptilian critters to a whole new level.”

These volumes by Mr. Boyle are the culmination of countless hours of tracking down copies of literally every page of every fanzine from those glory days (excepting Greg Shoemaker’s Japanese Fantasy Film Journal, which kicked off this whole shebang and will be featured in yet another volume), and compiling them in a series of high-quality publications. In addition to Japanese Giants #1, the fanzines in this one include Richard Campbell’s Godzilla Mania, Barry Kaufman’s Monsters of Japan, Damon Foster’s Japanese Movie Sci-Fi, and Mike Martin’s Giants From Japan. Granted, after so many years, some of the old pages were in a condition barely fit to read, and the reproductions reflect that fact — not to mention that many of the original page designs scarcely reached the level of “crude.” But for those of us who were active in those days (and whose devotion to all things kaiju continues to this day), these volumes represent a most welcome labor of love on Mr. Boyle's part. To be sure, this endeavor isn't one to make anyone rich, but to their target audience, the contents of these are enriching beyond words.

The Soul of Wes Craven by Joe Maddrey

It's safe to say that Joe Maddrey's The Soul of Wes Craven (Harker Press, June 2024) may be the most comprehensive and thoughtful biography of any human being I've ever read. The physical book is in the 500-page neighborhood (I read the Kindle edition), and there's not a word of padding to be found.

Author Maddrey conducted years of research, including 80-some interviews with many of those closest to Craven. From the legendary movie-maker's fundamentalist upbringing; to his stints as a musician, college lit-mag editor, and producer of porn flicks; to the inspirations behind his literary and cinematic concepts; to the stories and anecdotes about Craven's most obscure films to his blockbusters, Maddrey explores every aspect in depth, with both objectivity and sensitivity.

No doubt, the chronicles of Craven's milestone films — Last House on the Left, The Hills Have Eyes, Nightmare on Elm Street, The People Under the Stairs, and so many others — are of deep and specific interest to the multitudes of Wes Craven fans. But perhaps most revealing are the myriad insights into Craven's personal life, attitudes, and philosophies, fleshed out by way of his own writings as well as first-hand accounts by his friends, family, and fellow professionals. Also fascinating are the accounts of Craven's many unmade or unfinished cinematic projects — not to mention those that morphed into entirely different animals along their paths to completion.

That Joe Maddrey took on the daunting task of creating such an in-depth, thoroughly rounded picture of a public figure whose private side ran very deep indicates that undertaking The Soul of Wes Craven was not just a labor of love but a deep, passionate drive.

Five out of five Damned Rodan's Dirty Firetinis.

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The Soul of Wes Craven at Amazon.com

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THE FORT — A Short Horror Film by Alan Lastufka

"Teenage best friends Erin and Tim have their own hideout in the woods. It’s an old reclaimed trailer nicknamed the Fort. And it just grew a new door…"

Writer/Publisher/Filmmaker Alan Lastufka's short horror film, The Fort, is due for release in October 2024. A Kickstarter campaign has been launched to assist with the film's funding.

Alan Lastufka is CEO of Shortwave Publishing, which released my newest anthology, Deathrealm: Spirits, this past October.

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Support The Fort — A Short Horror Film Kickstarter Campaign Here

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In Which We Talk Godzilla Minus One on the Lovecraft eZine Podcast

I dropped in on this past week's Lovecraft eZine podcast, hosted by Mike Davis, to talk about Godzilla Minus One and other fun, scary things.

My in-depth review of the latest Godzilla outing can be found here: The Blog Where Horror Dwells: Godzilla... Minus One.

Godzilla... Minus One

As a diehard daikaiju fanatic since early childhood, I take my Godzilla movies seriously, no matter how serious — or not — the movies themselves might be. The original 1954 Godzilla is not just my favorite monster film, it's my favorite film of all time. Many monster movie fans have opined that Godzilla Minus One, Toho's newest entry into the venerable franchise, rivals or even surpasses the power and quality of the original. I think not, but this film offers plenty of appeal not only to Godzilla fans but to a far wider, more diverse audience.

There may be spoilers ahead.

As with most of the Godzilla films made during and since the Millennium era (1999–2005), Godzilla Minus One reinvents the monster, disregarding its cinematic history, retaining only the time-proven tropes. Even a number of the earlier films with disparate timelines hearken back to the 1954 original, using it as the jumping-off point for all-new continuities. Like Toho's prior Godzilla outing — Shin Godzilla (2016) — this Godzilla has an all-new origin story.

In a nod to the Godzilla origin story depicted in 1992's Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah, in which a "Godzillasaurus" appears to a regiment of Japanese soldiers on a remote Pacific Island called Lagos, Godzilla Minus One begins near the end of the war on Odo Island (the name of the island where Godzilla first appeared in the 1954 original) and also presents a "Godzillasaurus." Unlike in Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah, this Godzillasaurus is anything but gentle, and, rather than saving the lives of the encamped Japanese soldiers, it all but wipes them out in a ferocious fury.

In the 1954 film, Godzilla appears due to hydrogen bomb tests in the Pacific, well into Japan's post-war recovery and ascension as a formidable economic power. Godzilla Minus One's story begins at the end of the war, and the narrative advances only a couple of years beyond. Its setting is a post-war Japan in which "recovery" barely qualifies as a pipedream for most. It is the detonation of the first atomic bomb on Bikini Atoll in 1946 that transforms this Godzilla into a true daikaiju.

It is survivor Koichi Shikishima (Ryunosuke Kamiki), a "failed" kamikaze pilot, whose story propels the human drama. After the war, having moved back to a fire-ravaged Tokyo and bearing the burden of survivor's guilt twice over, Shikishima feels that he may already be dead, and his shattered existence is some kind of dead man's dream. On one hand, there are those around him who consider him a disgrace, the personification of weakness; essentially the reason that Japan lost the war. On the other hand, Shikishima meets a young woman named Noriko (Minami Hamabe) whose determination to survive, to thrive, is so great that she unilaterally chooses to take in an orphaned little girl named Akiko and settle in with him as an informal family unit. This all but forces Shikishima to reevaluate his outlook, to consider that his life has a purpose. That he can dare to dream again.

One can hardly argue that this depth of characterization is typical of Godzilla films of any era. Certainly not of the contemporary Monsterverse Godzilla franchise, whose token nods to characterization barely reach the level of the old Saturday morning Godzilla Power Hour cartoon. As Shikishima's life stabilizes, he takes a job as a "mine cleaner" — a position that puts him on a ship with a team whose job is finding and destroying the 60,000-some active mines in the ocean around Japan, placed by both the Japanese and US military forces. His shipmates, overall an engaging and sometimes humorous bunch, bring both depth and liveliness to the character interactions. They serve as motivators for Shikishima, whose desire to live has finally taken solid root. While he, Noriko, and Akiko might not have become a true, traditional family unit, it's clear that they are bonded by a deepening love.

As one might infer, the mine cleaners' day job comes with a few unique hazards. Deadly hazards. But living so close to the edge brings these men both self-awareness and passion. Shikishima finds his niche among these men. Understandably, Noriko doesn't much like it. Especially when crewmember "Doc" Kenji Noda (Hidetaka Yoshioka), a former weapons specialist and now liaison with the Japanese government, informs the men they've been ordered to check out an American destroyer that has been attacked by... something... and left adrift.

From here, a long stretch of delicious, fairly graphic monster action ensues. This, of course, is what moviegoers have come to see. Like some kind of ultra-powerful Megalodon, Godzilla proves himself a daunting — and genuinely frightening — aquatic enemy, captured by brilliant cinematography. Of course, Godzilla is hardly relegated to water-based antics, and when he makes landfall, the onscreen spectacle is in many ways unrivaled by any daikaiju film made since the advent of CGI. Certainly better (with perhaps a handful of exceptions) than most of the graphics presented in the Monsterverse franchise, whose budget exceeds this film's by many, many, many times. (Godzilla vs. Kong's budget was reportedly between $155 and $200 million; Godzilla Minus One's was $15 million).

Without diving too deeply into spoiler territory, it's fair to say that the character and monster stories converge in meaningful ways, further developing the individuals as well as propelling the action. Unlike so many prior Godzilla films, particularly of the Heisei era and, later, Shin Godzilla, there is very little focus on the Japanese government's and military's responses to Godzilla's attacks. Ostensibly, the Imperial government and military have been stymied by the tumultuous US and Soviet presences in the Pacific and the restrictive terms imposed on Japan following its surrender. Instead, a ragtag band of initially unaffiliated individuals come together, loosely under the direction of Doc Noda and a former Imperial Navy Admiral, who rely on their ingenuity and limited resources to formulate a plan.

In the context of the film, the logistics of the ultimate plan might be debatable, but there's no denying the sheer energy of the action and the portrayal of courage on the parts of our protagonists.

Fuck with this monster? Is bad idea.

"Doc" Kenji Noda (Hidetaka Yoshioka) and Shikishima (Ryunosuke Kamiki) meet for their first run as minesweepers

Noriko (Minami Hamabe) suddenly realizes there's something out there...

A graphic recreation of Godzilla's attack on the Tokyo train from the 1954 original

Director Takashi Yamazaki (The Fighter Pilot, Always: Sunset on Third Street, Parasyte: Part 1) proves himself accomplished in every aspect of a character-driven monster story. Here, we have no long, lagging people scenes, where interest wanes as soon as mouths open (2019's Godzilla - King of the Monsters, anyone?); instead, these characters share with us passion, humor, believable conflict, and grief when appropriate. The combination of directing and acting brings to life the most engaging group of characters in a Godzilla movie for many, many years. I would probably have to go back to the Showa era (1954–1975) to find an ensemble of cast with such effective chemistry as here; certainly, no Godzilla movie apart from the 1954 original has conveyed a human story as compelling. Or that might make me (and my wife) feel a bit weepy (it did).

Yamazaki also directs most of the monster action with a masterful hand. It's safe to say that this was the first time ever in a Godzilla movie that I felt an honest-to-god chill when the full extent of the monster's power is initially revealed. The director showcases Godzilla's attack on Tokyo using everything from panoramic to character-level views, allowing us an intimate sensory experience of the violence and terror of such a brutal rampage. Most memorably — in a scene similar to one in the original 1954 film — a group of reporters is narrating from a high rooftop as Godzilla advances through the city. As the monster passes, the building collapses, and the camera view is on the reporters as their world comes down. It's a particularly harrowing moment, expertly executed.

While the CGI occasionally announces, "Hey, look at me, I'm CGI!," the better part of the effects work is impressive, presenting a lifelike monster and environment rather than a world rendered with an exaggerated palette, such as in the Monsterverse films. Not to denigrate the characteristic "oil-painted" look of the Monsterverse's effects work, but its busy, overly vibrant colors and compositions, as impressive as they might appear on the screen, also build a wall between that world and me as the viewer. I can't get immersed in that environment because it doesn't feel like a living environment. It's more a vivid cartoon. This is mostly not true in Godzilla Minus One, so it offers a far more immersive experience.

While there are the expected Akira Ifukube musical cues in the Godzilla Minus One, which are inserted to good effect, the original score by Naoki Sato offers a very different kind of background from either the classic Ifukube cuts or any other Godzilla movie score. Largely, it weaves, pulses, and throbs in the background, an ambient sound wave that builds atmosphere and tension. With ethereal, eerie tones, it heightens the sense of the unknown that Godzilla represents. The various character themes include everything from deep, rich orchestral tones to mellow melodies played on acoustic guitar. It's one of the most effective scores — maybe the most effective — that I've heard for any modern daikaiju movie. Interestingly, Godzilla's roar, which sounds familiar yet unusual, is a recording of the original Godzilla roar — created by composer Ifukube by rubbing a leather glove over contrabass strings and slowing down the recording — amplified via loudspeakers.

As a longtime Godzillaphile, I have adored the franchise since the first film, regardless of whether the movies are serious and grim or light and whimsical. At the end of the day, Godzilla Minus One portrays the monster as the impressive, terrible, essentially demonic thing my youthful brain imagined. And that I still want to imagine.

That is a big win.

"Doc" Kenji Noda (Hidetaka Yoshioka) contemplates the consequences of failure.

A stroll through the countryside

It's clobberin' time.

All that remains of the Wako Building clock tower after Godzilla's stroll

A display of incredible power

Tricks, Treats, Ghosties, Ghoulies, and Disembodied Heads

Ahh, there's nothing like some spooky Halloween (or in this case, pre-Halloween) geocaching. On Monday, I hauled myself up the thirty or so miles of scenic backroads to Rocky Mount, VA, primarily to hunt an Adventure Lab cache that takes you on a fun little ghost tour of downtown. Before hitting the town proper, though, I detoured over to some nearby woods to hunt a handful of caches I had yet to find. The first of these made my day — primarily because I did not expect what I found. Needless to say, the photo is a spoiler, so for the sake of the geocachers who follow this blog, I'll not reveal the cache name or its location. Suffice it to say that this one pretty well made my day.

After snagging a couple of more hides, I headed into town to hunt the ghostly Adventure Lab cache. It had five stages, each of which took me to a supposedly haunted location. None of these were particularly spooky, but I enjoyed visiting them for their historic significance. The most interesting to me was finding the original law office of Confederate General Jubal Early, under whom my great-great-great-grandfather and his brothers served during the Civil War. I hope that if any of these ghosts are roaming out and about, they haven't remained "unrepentant rebels," as Early himself was reputed to be following the war.

After the geocaching, I found a so-so lunch at a little Japanese place in Rocky Mount and then rode over to Ferrum College for a brief visit to my old alma mater. After that, home.

For the evening's entertainment, Ms. B. and I watched Hocus Pocus, which is one of her Halloween standards. Back when, I never thought I'd particularly enjoy this one, but it turns out that I very much do. Go figure.

Jubal Early's original law office in Rocky Mount, VA

The reputedly haunted "Farm at the Furnace"

Come Halloween morning, I was up early to fire up the crockpot for a big-ass pork butt. I had it cooking all day, seasoned it up nicely, and, come dinnertime, Ms. B. and I found ourselves with a damned good pulled pork feast. Our plan was to sit out on the front porch with the yard decorations blazing in hopes we might get a few trick-or-treaters. Since I hadn't spent Halloween in this house for many, many years, I had no idea what the turnout might be like.

It was considerably more impressive than I'd expected. We'd counted on a handful, at best, but we ended up with something like thirty. The weather cooperated nicely; it rained during the morning but cleared up by mid-afternoon. After the first couple of groups, I had to hie myself back to the grocery store to pick up more goodies. Happily, they'd already reduced the price on most of the chocolate treats, so I got a whole bunch of the good stuff (Reese's Take Fives). We still ended up with a wee bit left. But I found it very gratifying to see quite a few kids in costume — and all very polite. I understand the turnout was good just about everywhere in town. That makes me feel rather less curmudgeonly than usual.

To end the evening, we watched Disney's The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, which Ms. B. wanted to see. I think I saw this as a kid, but I can't be 100% certain. Anyway, it was fairly fun, with great animation. Then we put on Carpenter's Halloween just for shits & giggles, but by the time we got well into the film, the day's rigors and the evening's drink served to mellow me out a bit before the end of the film (as in snoring mellow, according to Brugger). Anyhoo, at least I know how the movie ends.

T'was a damn nice Halloween. I'll take it.

Appetizers on the porch prior to having trick-or-treaters (Mmm.)

Happy Horrorween!

The Faux Frontier?

Back in July, around the anniversary of the first moon landing, I read a bunch of articles about Apollo 11 and the space program in general.

Since then — shock of shocks — my social media news feeds are almost all space stuff. Some is just clickbait, but I’ve also come across some cool and informative stuff.

Among the most ubiquitous “stuff” I see on the subject would be the thundering chorus of voices railing about how the moon landings — even the space program itself — were all a big hoax. These are inevitably pitched with the same fervor (and credibility) of the Flat Earthers. Clearly, there have been conspiracy theories of this nature since before Neil Armstrong even set foot on the lunar surface, but I confess I’ve actually been surprised by how pervasive this nonsense has become (and I’m generally pretty hard to surprise when it comes to the pervasive tentacles of the Idiocracy).

No doubt, a huge percentage of this shrillness comes from mere trolls, whose rate of reproduction on the interwebz rivals the world’s busiest rabbit hutch. Trolls in any field will latch onto almost anything to justify their otherwise meaningless existences. Still, the apparent genuine belief in such conspiracies far exceeds what I might have otherwise guessed, even in the present-day world of a la carte conspiracy theories for each day of the week.

Most telling, almost without exception, the “proof” that these adherents cite for their belief is “Go look it up for yourself! You’ll see!”

Yeah. Over my many, many years as an avid outer space nut, I’ve looked. And looked. And looked. It goes without saying that the preponderance of evidence is so heavily weighted to the landings’ veracity that even scratching its surface fills volumes (and the opposite is true; I’ve yet to find any sufficiently compelling contradictory evidence; such outlets for such “evidence” typically offer all the credibility of BuzzFeed or InfoWars). So much evidence in the “FOR” column, physical and otherwise, has been verified by non-NASA sources, particularly internationally (for God’s sake, the Soviets acknowledged it when acknowledging such a defeat was, for them, all but unthinkable) that evidence in the “AGAINST” column would have to be pretty staggering. If you can point me to it, have at it.

One of my favorite articles on this phenomenon that I came across is “How Stanley Kubrick Staged the Moon Landing” in The Paris Review. Informative and fun.

Anyhoo, since the July 20, I’ve been on a pretty good space movie kick. 2001: A Space Odyssey, 2010, Apollo 13, Apollo 18, Europa Report, and others — not to mention keeping up, or trying to, with all the Star Trek and Star Wars spinoffs. I might even work in Capricorn I if I can stream it for free somewhere.

TERRIFIER 2

Some years ago, writer/director Damien Leone’s All Hallows Eve (2013) introduced me to Art the Clown, and I think it’s fair to say I found Art one of the most disturbing horror characters in existence — particularly those of the clown persuasion. Clowns have never frightened me per se, but I can readily admit that some have unsettled me (my daughter once had this cast iron clown coin bank that “ate” coins, which did none of our sensibilities any favors). With All Hallows Eve, Art kind of messed up my head because, in the situations in the movie, he was simultaneously funny as hell yet altogether terrifying. Knowing that his appearance to someone was a harbinger of personal doom — a horrific doom, at that — effectively creeped me out.

The first Terrifier (2016) followed along the same lines. It felt a little more over-the-top, but it still disturbed me on a level that most horror/slasher movies do not.

Last night, I took the opportunity to watch Terrifier 2. It offered quite a few brilliant, scary moments/scenes, such as the Clown Café dream scene with its catchy, whimsical tunes. (In fact, I quite enjoyed the music throughout the movie, particularly the techno dance stuff.) Art provided several horrific moments worthy of his earlier film appearances. And the introduction of Creepy Little Demon Girl made for an entertaining touch. For the sake of continuity, I appreciated the references to Art’s first two adventures.

Overall, though, I didn't much care for this one. First and foremost, the running time is way too long — 138 minutes vs. 83 minutes for both All Hallows Eve and the original Terrifier. All those extra minutes added nada, zip, absolute jack shit, and — worst of all — introduced the element of boredom. Bzzzt, wrong! The movie’s surreal, dreamlike moments worked well enough, yet almost all of the “real-life” events dragged on to the point of tedium and frequently dove straight into the realm of the asinine rather than the frightening.

No. No, thank you.

So, Terrifier 2 is a mixed bag, and its most effective moments might be considered classic Art. Sadly, though, the crap weighs too heavily in the bag, and thus it gets a rating of only two out of five Damned Rodan’s Dirty Firetinis.

Boo!

It’s the Great Hocus Pocus, Charlie Brown!

It has been one breakneck Halloween season, with numerous gatherings (and another one on the slate for this evening), movies, and outings for Ms. B. and me — all of which are mighty welcome. October is always a busy month, and we’ve been working overtime on this one. It sort of helps make up for the near-absence of the Halloween season for us last year; not that there is one complaint about that situation, since we were overseas, getting married, and all that kind of good stuff.

Last night, friends Terry and Beth hosted an outdoor movie night, as is their wont this time of year. Last year, we watched Hocus Pocus, which was a first for me. I hadn’t much expected to like it, but — au contraire — I found it an agreeable hoot. This time, it was Hocus Pocus 2, and I liked it a lot as well. It wasn’t the classic that many consider the original to be, but it was funny and hit plenty of the right notes throughout. Also on our docket was It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. This one is an absolute prerequisite for the Halloween season (and we actually watched it a week or so ago, just for good measure). The drinks and company were delightful; a couple of folks in attendance turned out to be hardcore horror geeks, so we had a ton of topics to yak about.

This morning, Ms. B. wanted to see some fall foliage, so we headed out for a drive. I picked up a couple of geocaches, and we enjoyed lunch at a sweet little Mexican place in Gibsonville called La Casa Dorada. Fantastic Tacos à Diabla — spicy-hot to enough to prompt a couple of good hollers from me.

Tonight, we have the customary Halloween-themed geocaching event at friend Natalie’s place to attend. In fact, it’s just about time to get into character....

Tomorrow... Halloween arrives at last. Then comes the fast train to Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, and the eventual Final Chapter. Jebus, how time do fly.

A couple of wacky folk bundled up for Hocus Pocus 2

Lake view at Hagan Stone Park while geocaching this morning

The colours out of space

“It’s in the Trees! It’s Coming!”

The Halloween season at Casa di Rodan is officially underway, for the required annual viewing of Jacques Tourneur’s Night (Curse) of the Demon is complete.

It’s not as though Brugger and I don't watch scary movies pretty much all the time, but it is an unbreakable tradition to kick off the Halloween season with several of our favorites, such as John Carpenter’s The Thing; Trick R Treat; It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown; and, of course, the aforementioned Tourneur classic.

Night of the Demon (to use its proper UK release title) remains my favorite horror movie of all time, and Friday night was its turn on the screen. It still gives me a case of the creeps, mainly from remembering how deeply the image of the critter scared me as a young ’un. And I still love that critter; whatever its imperfections, I don’t believe the movie would be the classic it is without the thing.

A few of the past week’s cinematic highlights (and low points):

Brugger and I watched Smile at the theater the other night. We both found it needlessly heavy in the jump-scare department, but it was at times wonderfully eerie, and we liked it overall. There was 1999’s The House on Haunted Hill, which we both enjoy quite a bit (I’ll play the heretic here and admit that I prefer it to William Castle’s 1959 original). We watched the new Hellraiser on Hulu. This one had some merit, particularly in its exposition about the Lament cube, yet it still felt unremarkable and ultimately disappointing. We followed that up with the original Hellraiser, which I appreciate on a deeper level than the new one, but I can’t claim that it’s ever been a particular favorite. And we took in the original 1953 War of the Worlds last week, which I have adored since the first time it thrilled me as a seven-year-old. On my own, I watched The Houses October Built, mainly because I remembered it featured some cool haunted attractions and very creepy haunted attraction personnel. My memory was pretty accurate, and I was not disappointed.

One evening this past week, Ms. B. had a hankering to watch The Haunting from 1999, as she finds it entertaining. I hated the movie when it came out, but I was fine giving it another chance, as I have not watched it since its original release. Sadly, my opinion hasn’t changed. It’s awful. Not to fault her enjoyment of it; I can hardly claim to have no affinity for some admittedly awful movies...

The first of the season’s Halloween parties went off last night, at our friend Margaret’s place in Rural Hall. And what an affair! Margaret brought in a caterer for the food, offered beverage selections customized to attendees’ tastes, and provided various favors for the guests (fairly expensive ones, at that, and even cigars for those who might be interested). So, yeah, I indulged in a cigar (I blame Tony Tremblay for stoking that long-dormant vice at Necon back in July).

Brugger and I will be having a little bash here at home later this month, as will friends Terry & Beth (who accompanied us to a pre-Margaret-party visit to Hanover Park Winery yesterday afternoon). There may be others.

I do have a very busy week coming up. There will be updates later, no doubt.

Boo!

As a hobby, Kimberly’s dad builds these lovely miniature houses, barns, and other town buildings, which she
displays before our fireplace. Now they’re lit by Halloween lights — as they should be. 

Found at Lowe’s Foods in Lewisville, NC, on our way to friend Margaret’s party. Wowz!

I blame Tony Tremblay for the cigar craving. Note the lovely wine glass, courtesy of friend Margaret.

NEW! Rising Sun Reruns From Becky Books

TIME FOR TOKUSATSU!
Looky, looky! On the heels of his phenomenal Dark Shadows retrospective, Running Home to Shadows, editor Jim Beard and publisher Becky Books are back with Rising Sun Reruns, a new volume dedicated to those Japanese television imports from the mid-to-late Twentieth Century that glued so many of us to our small screens.

“From the 1960s to the 1990s children in the West were gifted with a bounty of amazing TV shows to watch and enjoy—but it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy their voracious appetites for adventure! It took an intriguing immigration of imported shows from the East to fill their afternoons with all the fun and fantasy they craved!

“Grab a TV tray and hunker down in the family den with a group of grown-up kids as they reminisce about their favorite exotic Japanese TV shows of yore! In these pages, you will find glowing memories of flights of fancy such as Ultraman, Johnny Sokko and His Flying Robot, Astro Boy, Battle of the Planets, Space Giants, Speed Racer, Robotech, and many, many more—including a few you may never even heard of!

“Writer-editor Jim Beard adds to his Memories from Today's Grown-Up Kids series of pop culture nostalgia books with Rising Sun Reruns, a tantalizing trip into the past when discovering a strange show from Japan alongside your other favorite series was not a weird thing at all… it was downright wonderful!”

My essay, “Bacon, Eggs, Toast, & Ultraman,” showcases — you guessed it! — the original Ultraman TV series. Actor David J. Fielding, from the Power Rangers series, provides the foreword. Cover art is by Adam Benet Shaw. Available in paperback and ebook.

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Order Rising Sun Reruns from
Amazon.com here!

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R.I.P. Teruyoshi Nakano, 1935–2022

Photo by Brett Homenick

I was saddened to learn today of legendary special effects director Teruyoshi Nakano’s passing last week. At G-Fest 2004, where Nakano-san was a guest of honor, I had the pleasure of meeting him face to face and, along with Brett Homenick, conducting an in-depth interview with him. It’s hardly a well-kept secret that I am a longtime special effects/daikaiju freak, particularly from the Showa-era Toho films. Little by little, time’s passage continues to claim the few remaining members of the generation responsible for those movies. Nakano-san was one of those select few I have met personally, and in that brief time, he left me with a wonderful and memorable impression.

Teruyoshi (a.k.a. Shokei) Nakano started with Toho — barely aware of Godzilla, kith and kin — in 1959 (the year I was born) as an assistant special effects director. As assistant to special effects director Eiji Tsuburaya, Nakano’s first effect work was in Submarine I-57 Will Not Surrender; soon afterward, he worked on Gorath, his first Toho science fiction film. From there, he assisted Tsuburaya on virtually all of Toho’s science fiction/daikaiju movies, from King Kong vs. Godzilla to Space Amoeba (a.k.a. Yog - Monster From Space).

In 1971, Nakano graduated to full special effects director, first for The Battle of Okinawa and then Godzilla vs. Hedorah (a.k.a. Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster). He continued in this position for the rest of the Showa Godzilla films (which ended with Terror of Mechagodzilla in 1975). In 1984, he worked on his final Godzilla film, Return of Godzilla (a.k.a. Godzilla 1985).

It goes without saying that, having personally spent time with him only at G-Fest in 2004, I can hardly claim to have known Nakano-san in any depth. Whether he would have even remembered me from Adam, well, who can say? Still, he made quite the impression on me, since I had followed his career from the day I was old enough to know anything about cinematic special effects. Above and beyond all, his passing is a reminder of how profoundly time giveth and time taketh away.

I hope Nakano-san was aware of how his life and work influenced and excited so many of us who have passionately loved special effects movies over the course of our own lives. Rest in peace, sir.

You can read interviews with Teruyoshi Nakano at Brett Homenick’s Vantagepoint Interviews blog here:

• Teruyoshi Nakano Reflects on Some of His Non-Godzilla Films

(06-26-2019)

• Teruyoshi Nakano Reflects on His Godzilla Film Work

(07-18-2019)

39 Ghosts!

Tomorrow night (Saturday, October 1) is the Martinsville, VA, premiere of local moviemaker Myron Smith's latest spookfest, titled 39 Ghosts, loosely based on William Castle's original 13 Ghosts (1960). Like most of Smith's movies, this one promises lots of chuckles as well as a few chills. In it, I play the ghost of Dr. Abroz (based on—guess who—Dr. Zorba from the original film.

The movie plays at the Spencer-Penn Center in Spencer, VA, just west of Martinsville, at 7:00 p.m. EDT. Tickets will be available at the door.

When I was a wee lad, 13 Ghosts scared the devil out of me, resulting in more than one sleepless night. And shortly afterward, one or more of those ghosts apparently migrated to our house because the number 13 mysteriously appeared on the living room wall behind the television, scrawled in pencil. My brother was way to young to do any such thing, and I would never, ever have dreamed of writing anything on the wall. Not me, no. So, it had to be ghosts. Probably Dr. Abroz.

Seeing the old dude as a ghost on the screen is bound to be a hoot. Perhaps I'll see you there.

Whirlwind!

In the couple of weeks since Ms. and I returned from Michigan, the world seems to be getting heavier and spinning faster — at least for the short term. Several writing and publishing projects, which I’ll mention only in passing, have presented themselves to me, and while they’re too good to pass up, they also require a significant amount of work on my part; time for such niceties has not been in plentiful supply, nor do I see a wealth of it in the near future. Still, I’m hard into one of the projects and am cobbling together the details for the others. I also have an Ameri-Scares novel — Georgia: The Haunting of Tate’s Mill — to get back to... eventually. On top of all that, Ms. B. and I are both selling properties, which have required significant time and attention. My mom’s estate business, by rights, should be winding down about now, but complications involving bureaucratic bullshit are preventing this happening. At least I did manage to close the door on one detail that’s been waiting in the wings since the beginning of the estate mess (at least, I think — and hope — that door is closed). While working at Brugger’s a couple of weeks back, I managed to wrench or otherwise traumatize my neck and/or spine, which I can only hope proves to be nothing serious. There’s a little improvement there, but not as much as it seems there should be by now.

A lovely cache guardian at "Chapel Hill
History Lesson"

I have, at least, managed to fit in some geocaching, a handful of nice outings with Brugger, and a couple of relaxing gatherings with friends. Last weekend, the No-Dead-Weight Irregulars — Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), Old Rob (a.k.a. Old Rob), and this old dude — hit Cary for a lovely day of hiking and caching, culminating in a beastly good bison feast at Ted’s Montana Grill in Durham. Yesterday, Ms. B. and I rode over to Chapel Hill, aiming to do a little shopping, wining, and caching. We managed to do all three, though — thanks to the football game that locked up every bit of parking in town — we couldn’t manage everything we had hoped. Still, we procured an excellent lunch at The Spotted Dog in Carrboro, which has long been one of our favorite dining destinations. Today, the usual suspects, plus Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie) made a short but happy day of caching at the Rich Fork Nature Preserve in High Point, which included first-to-find honors on a new cache, which required some effort, in that the published coordinates were a couple of hundred feet off.

Brugger and I have already worked in a few fright films to kick off the Halloween season, which we’re starting marginally early, since much of the month of October will be devoted to other necessary activities. So far, we’ve put on Indigenous (a so-so shocker from 2014), The Thing (2011), John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982), Night (Curse) of the Demon, Casting the Runes (an entertaining BBC production from 1979), The Ninth Gate, Black Mountain Side, and probably another flick or two I’m not remembering off the top of my head. Fun stuff, naturally. We have a few other must-watch movies on the docket.

And just as an aside here, if you haven’t gotten yourself vaccinated against COVID-19, for the love of Yog, do it. If you don’t plan to, unless you’ve got some kind of mitigating condition or circumstances, you and your ilk are causing more havoc for our healthcare system than is sustainable, and I personally know quite a few healthcare professionals that have absolutely had it with you. I am not a healthcare professional, but I can tell you, I’ve had it with you too.

And that, as they say, is that.

A dapper Ms. B. on the Bolin Creek Trail in Chapel Hill

The old homestead at the Rich Fork Nature Preserve in High Point

Natalie and Old Rob look on as Scott tries to stop the brain from leaking out. Not sure it worked, Scott.