When I was 11, I attended the first annual Famous Monsters of Filmland convention in NYC. This was an historic event. To my knowledge, it was the first of its kind. Odd to imagine such a thing by today’s standards, but there it was, and there I was, at the first-EVER horror film convention. And it was hosted by the first ever horror film magazine, Famous Monsters of Filmland. I met James Warren there. The publisher. Warren seemed like a regular guy, pleasant and looking busy. He was hoping to be the next Hugh Hefner, having published a knock-off of Playboy that flamed-out all too quickly. He made the remark that monsters were the gap between Westerns and Playboy so I guess he backpedaled his dreams a bit.
But then, I met the master himself. Forrest J Ackerman, the editor and founder. In his trademark tweedish blazer and Vincent Price mustache. I watched him hold court and quote chapter and verse a litany of films and actors for whom horror was home. I remember being in awe at such a masterful site; relief at seeing the throngs of fans because — up until then — I thought me and my best friend, Joel Eisenberg (today a prosperous screenwriter and producer) were mutations of some kind; and finally a tinge of envy. Oh! to hold such court; Oh! to mingle with the masters of macabrery. Alas, who was I to imagine such a dream could be a reality. I, a pudgy pasty-faced kid from the Bronx.
That was 1974. But… Until this past October, I still had an unfulfilled childhood dream: To Stand Where Forry Stood. Make no mistake … I’ve been an integral part of many conventions prior: a judge for many seasons at Boston Sci-Fi; interviewer for Phan-Con — a fest dedicated to the Phantasm Franchise; and even Phoenix FearCon 9 as an interviewer. But they where all remote. Joyous yes. But enjoyed from my chair in my office. Will I ever stand where Forry stood?
Then came Phoenix FearCon X.
Phoenix FearCon is the creation of power-producer Chris McLennan who respects this genre like I do. I say respects and not loves, because to say you love horror films is an utterance of a vast majority. To say you respect them, there’s a tighter view.
Chris is a die-hard horror fan. She and her husband, Jim, even have Hammer night at the home where — every Friday — they watch and analyze another Hammer film (Hammer being the British film company that gave birth to the legendary teaming of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee) and she wanted to show her respect the genre with a festival that supports the art and gives emerging filmmakers a platform to gauge their films by showing them to ardent fans and then interfacing with many levels of fan and industry. Couple this passion for the scary with her adroit knowledge of studio and event management (and travel arrangements) made her a superior producer.
Chris and I made acquaintance when Joel (who never let the genre leave his heart) invited me to host a three-episode miniseries called Terror Talk where I would speak with members of the genre about how their work reflects life. This was my cause celeb as I — after obsessively watching scores of these movies over and over — would find hidden messages or deeply moving parables within even the most obscure or — dare I say it — terrible of films. So to discuss the nuisances with writers, directors, and artists … well….
Chris invited me to host FearCon 9. I thought this would be a dream come true … until Covid hit. Yes, Virginia, there was a FearCon 9 but we were virtual and while I relished interviewing these masters of the macabre I was still hungry for the real flesh and blood (pardon the pun) festival. And make no mistake, these were masters I’ve spoken with. Bill Oberst,Jr., Terry Alexander, Owl Goingback, John Skipp, Charles Band, Count Gore de Vol, Gil Adler, the casts of The Dark Offerings and the #1 movie at that time… FOLLOWED, producer Don Barza, Slash app founder Damon Gerard and many others.
But there was that desire, that hunger (oh boy now I sound like a vampire or werewolf) to meet this great macabre-makers. Will it ever happen?
Then came Phoenix FearCon X.
The same invitation as PFC9 was extended for their 10th anniversary celebration convention and film festival. But Covid, like the Hammer Draculas and Frankensteins, like Freddy, Jason, and Michael, like … well, you get the point … was still here, ready to provide fodder for a sequel. Thus, prep was touch and go for a while — can we do it live and virtual? Should we stick to virtual, is it safe??? Breaths was held for a while. Plans B, C, and Q were ready, then, like a modern Van Helsing, Chris allowed belief to overtake logic and …
Then, from the FearCon’s fearless leader, came the word.
WE. WILL. GO. LIVE.
It’s alive … alive!
And I was to serve as host. Now was my chance to invite those buddies I’ve only played with online. And to finally achieve that 12-year-old’s dream.
Geek in Flight
I love taking planes. I do. Even the rigors of airport security. The whole thing is fun to me. Yup, one day it won’t but until then, the games began at the airport. It’s not like I flew the plane or anything. I ate pretzels and watched movies but something about doing it on a plane was magic.
Landing in Arizona, I’m greeted at the airport by the ever-supportive and energized Tammy Snider-Schacht.
Tammy is a cancer survivor but you’d never know it. That she had cancer that is. Her resolve was as remarkable as her recovery. To view it on her social media or to speak with her, you’d think she just went through the issue of getting her apartment painted. There she was, excited about the whole thing as much as I was, holding a sign with my name on it. She held that proudly because she knew I LOVED things like that. I felt like a big-wig.
I stepped into her car, the actual Resident Evil car and off to the hotel and the convention center.
Sun Studios was transformed into a #weirdkids heaven with posters and exhibits as far as one could see. John Grizzy aka Professor Sparks took me on a tour of the original equipment used in Universal’s Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein … and Young Frankenstein.
John, a natural showman who shared my mustache, regaled the crowd with displays of equipment that we grew up with. That scary sphere that emitted electrical currents, the pole whizzing lightning, etc. Flames, and — of course — sparks. John was warm and friendly and truly brilliant in both demonstration and knowledge. Maybe “Professor” was his ceremonious title but he certainly earned it during FearCon X. Across the aisle from him was a gory and incredible site. A Dead Werewolf!
Rob Cobasky shares his “dead werewolf” with onlookers and offers a photo with the eerie corpse. Sounds like some silly side show act right? Cobasky is a master effects artists whose creations were Madame Tussaud real. As I was chatting with him and snapping pictures of me with the dead creature who looked so lifelike as to seem to smell, I noticed an old woman watching next to me. She stood close enough to make me uncomfortable. As host of the event I thought I could interface with her without making her uncomfortable so I turned and realize she was one of his statue-creations.
Terry Alexander, Fred “The Hammer” Williamson, and Bill Oberst, Jr.
Let me stop and elaborate here.
Terry Alexander was one of the stars (one of the living ones) of George Romero’s Day of the Dead. There alone he is an icon. To have worked with one of the masters of the genre — the man who truly invented the new zombie, the living dead, the “walker” the [if you watch Z Nation] the puppies and kittens, the creatures from Black Summer, the … you get the point. But Terry was one of the actors in the first African American plays on Broadway (No Place To Be Somebody, followed by Joseph Papp’s Streamers), and he toured the country doing Shakespeare as well. A gracious and eloquent man, Terry was open and honest and enlightened us for this interview, as well as a podcast with the great Scott Bradley, whose knowledge and love of the genre was a match for my own. Terry also sat for several video interviews. I recall at ComicCon, a guest who shall be nameless but whose name is less that Terry’s in my eyes, wouldn’t even pose for a picture with me. Terry is a gentlemen and a great artist — not just a horror film guy — a great artist.
Fred Williamson is indeed a Hammer as his power and confidence was a master-class in and of itself. Yes, we all remember him donning fangs in From Dusk till Dawn and the wild stories of how he negotiated his contract with Quentin Tarantino were worth the price of admission alone but — like Terry — Fred was also a ground-breaking actor. He barged into the offices of Otto Preminger and the producer of a series on TV called Julia and landed a three season contract. What makes this so wonderful is that Julia was a groundbreaking series as it was the first TV series with an African American woman in the lead. Williamson walked into the producer’s office and said “you’re getting it all wrong,” and the produced listened. Fred changed the course of the series motif thanks to his courage, and basically changed the concept of the African American TV character persona forever, thus, he entered media history for his trouble. And OMG, he is hilarious!
I pause here at Bill Oberst, Jr. My spin on Bill is that he is the Boris Karloff of the 21st century. This is not my usual horse-hockey… this is a statement of truth. Karloff was a kind accessible man — Oberst sat for myriad interviews and discussions and was open and friendly and pleasant. Karloff was a great actor as well as a master of the genre. Oberst’s characterizations have won him an Emmy and praise from legions. He understands the humanity of the characters he embodies first before looking at what is chilling about them. He is the Lon Chaney of our century as well as he finds humanity and pathos in even the most devastating of characters. He is the Christopher Lee/Peter Cushing of our generation as well as his sense of professionalism and grace was outstanding. Talking to Bill was like speaking at times to your best friend and at other times the wises sage on the mountain. His views on the art of acting should be required learning at university.
While I’ve engaged in multi-comparisons of Bill to many others, Bill is a unique individual. To be able to have connected with Bill was a high-point for me and an honor. I can see me relating stories of him for years and years to come.
Bill also presented a performance of his one man show, Pillars of Fire, based on a Ray Bradbury short story. For this article, I’ll simply say it was brilliant., A full review will be forthcoming in another publication.
OK, let’s talk about writers as we have a Bradbury segue. John Skipp, Owl Goingback, Vincent Vena Cava, and Rollin Jewett allowed me to get a glimpse into the minds of brilliant writiers. Each mastering a different form of the genre, we heard from these brilliant men how horror is found in folklore, current events, and deep emotions. Each seemed to hold sway over a different medium as well. All published, but Vena Cava is one of the founders of the creepy pasta movement while Jewett is a celebrated playwright as well as writer of the cult favorite, American Vampire, while Goingback — as tall and big as a quarterback — immerses us in folklore-styled tales in his novels (Owl is one of the few and easily the most famous of all Native-American genre writers); and journeyman Skipp has his claw in novels and short stories, screenplays and even music and filmmaking. Skipp — with ease — took on the role of wiseman at the event, sharing his exploits with Marcus Slabine and others. In the school of the macabre, Skipp is the head-master. Think Albus Dumbledore as a party-animal.
Dineta Williams-Trigg and Thommi A’mal — two charismatic and articulate women whose unabashed love of the genre seeped into their careers and their hobbies — shared a fascinating lecture on the Final Girl. You know something is moving from an industry to an institution when tropes form. The Final Girl is the surviving woman in all horror films. The one that got away. We’ve seen this naturally occurring type go from Fay Wray to Jamie Lee Curtis to — ready for this — the film Alien. Their discussion, stunningly prepared and presented — explored how Alien’s final girl might be Sigourney Weaver and might be the Alien “mama” herself. Brilliant.
I’ve been clocking horror, sci-fi and fantasy for 50 years — no kidding, so I’ve racked up considerable knowledge on the topic. Enough so that colleagues don’t engage me in discussion of the genre for fear of either being beaten down or bored by my endless blather — that ended with the panel on the history of the horror films with Dr. Britt Rhuart and Author/Podcaster S.A. Bradley. Our panel was an in-depth view of the industry from German expressionism of the early 20th century to today’s aforementioned elevated horror. Britt and Scott were immense founts of knowledge coupled with charisma befitting of television personalities. Rhuart, an academic who — like me — never really grew up — came in his red tuxedo and regaled us in the intricacies found in even the most obscure of films and Bradley, a towering rocker of a guy with a salt and pepper mane made The Cabinet of Dr Caligari seem like a rock concert sharing analyses that left me breathless. It was all I could do to keep up! I walked away from that panel proud to have been allowed to sit with such historians.
Gareth Von Kallenbach — a prominent journalist in films and games — came ready with laptop and vast knowledge on the new wave of horror films and horror games and Vampirologist Brent Myer — yes, there really is such a title — shared info on the legendary blood-drinkers that left me stunned. Brent and I will share another interview shortly as my thirst for more of his knowledge rivals the thirst his subject is forced to succumb to.
Chris McLennan inherently knew that the stereotype of the horror geek needed to be smashed to bits so on one side of the event you could rock to Dash Cooper (the son of Alice Cooper) and CO-OP; the Fetish Performance Arts Band — Agents of Lust; the Twisted original musical groups, Redrum and Torso; and a joyous romp with highlights of the thinly veiled shadow cast of Rocky Horror Picture Show. Then you go to the other end and sit in muscle cars like The Umbrella Corporation vehicle from Resident Evil and KIT from Knight Rider. Oh man was that great. I used to practice my best William Daniels thanks to that show (with a drawl: “Michael, we have a mission”)
Aside from The Dark Offering and Alone, premieres of established works included The Last American Horror Show Part II which featured the stars of My Bloody Valentine, Shivers, Game of Death, Sleepaway Camp, Lake of Shadows, and Spiderman to name a few.
In terms of films. The gorgeous movie theater at the convention played some powerhouse new works:
- From the United States: The Prop Master, Koreatown Ghost Story, Hold Your Breath, Dice, Wich, Broke Up, The Rules, ROOM 1403, The Snail, The Shack-An Atmos-Fearic Thriller-New Grade;
- From the United Kingdom: Test Footage
- From German: Pick Up Artist
- From Australia: Mask of the Evil Apparition, Golem
- From Italy: Escalation
- From Canada: Day Break
- From Argentina: How to Wash your Hands during the Downfall of Civilization
- and two from Spain: Smiles and THE LAST CHRISTMAS OF THE UNIVERSE.
The latter was an uproprious superbly films and designed send-up of the post-apocalyptic genre coupled with the slasher films of the 80s. I fluctuated between gasping at the films brilliance and laughing at its macabre and spot-on sense of satire and humor.
Now, here’s where the event resembled a hallmark card.
We had a major main event. The Reggie Award named after Reggie Bannister of the Phantasm Franchise was to be awarded to the most renegade of renegades, Lloyd Kaufman, who spent his life exposing world stupidity with films that are a cocktail of subversive brilliance and beauty. Troma Entertainment’s The Toxic Avenger, Nuke-em High, Tromeo & Juliet, and #shakespearesshitstorm are worthy and legendary examples. Well, this sounds like the finale of finales of the event right.
Covid and precious health of both Kaufman and Bannister prohibited them from attending. Event over … right?
I had an idea … It could never work as the studio was ill-equipped for what I’d suggested. Chris was weary but her inexhaustible energy hypnotized her, giving it the greenlight. Every technician in the place said it was not going to happen. OK, picture it.
Steve Wargo, the adept cinematographer chronicling the event with me on one side, setting up the cameras and speakers and wires and hooking them all up to … a major sound system? No, a litany of film equipment? No, a television feed no … A laptop.
Well, if it worked for Jeff Goldblum in Independence Day…
Now, the entire tech staff of FearCon is hovering over the laptop plugging, unplugging connecting diverting uploading diverting, as the audience is slowly strolling to the main theatre. Little by little members of each area of the festival — the guests, the audience, the cosplayers, the musicians, the sellers from the marketplace, the rockers the shockers and the geeks … Chris and I — now pale trying to salvage the event. The room is filling more and more. The wires are growing more and more. Steve, sounding like a combination Star Trek Mr. Scott and Wilford Brimley, “I need more time … I need more time” is trying to get the speakers to work and connect the cameras at the same time. The litany of red shirted tech masters spouting techno babble “did you upload… download … access … passcode … compatibility…” The room now filling and filling
- “Almost there”
- “Try the mouse now”
- The room is now a wash in aliens, ghouls, anime characters, t-shirted geeks with bags of goodies, be-speckled brainiacs with signed posters and curiously “normal looking” guests
- Then a chorus — more like a fugue — arose from the various corners of the room:
- “I’m ready”
- “We’re connected”
CLICK
The massive screen ill-equipped for what we attempted to do now shined with two boxes. Then a flicker of light then avatar text then…
Lloyd Kaufman, live from New York in his pajamas and a top hat
Reggie & Gigi Bannister and a Reggie Doll as a place holder live from California smiling like it was Christmas and they found out THEY were Santa Claus
We did it.
Reggie, whose health had been failing lately looked into the screen and smiled the grandest smile. He was “there” he saw a roomful of the wildest array of characters cheering and offering him the first of many standing ovations. After years of being the Ice Cream man who fought against the tall man and his minions from the hell dimension, he was honored with an award named after him. He is immortal.
Lloyd began playing his clarinet as the ovations turned toward him. This Don Quixote spent 50 years — about as long as I’ve been loving horror films — showing us that the Monsters are Us (this is a quick plug for my impending book of the same name). Maybe it was the first gasp when they realized Lloyd Kaufman was on screen or maybe it was the kind words that bounced toward him from every corner or maybe it was the tearful Gigi Bannister overcome with seeing her beloved Reggie and her dear friend, Lloyd, showered with accolades, but Lloyd held back his own tears by telling everyone to watch his latest film (#shakespearesshitstorm — which was gaining great praise from all who saw it).
One of the hashtags of Phoenix FearCon was #weirdkidsunite. This came from a comment which I’ve heard ad nauseum from guests, celebs, and audience alike for years,. Which I have said of myself over and over …
I was the weird kid.
Well, in that moment with the top-hatted pajama’d Kaufman and the Phan-tastic commandos known as the Bannisters shined on the screen amid a roomful of the imaginative and the energized, it happened.
The weird kids united.
Phoenix FearCon is not just a fan event but an educational happening where members of the community — and yes we are a legion, a community — could learn from each other and from the masters of macabrery; where filmmakers and authors could be treated as the respected creators of an entire universe of imagination, where weird is totally and joyously normal.
For me, the night and the event ended quietly. After awards were given to the films and the vendors began to pack up their wears. Let’s not shortchange the vendors. This was not a pile of memorabilia but these were sellers of smartly crafted, expertly curated items of history and fine art.
This brings me full circle.
As the sounds of exiting circled all around me, I sat and had a beer with Jim McLennan, Chris’ husband. He was enjoying a Pabst Blue Ribbon and celebrated the end of a banner program. He was in charge of making sure all the new films went up without a problem — and of course they did — and he — a calm within a storm — was sitting and smiling.
I sat with a Scotch and memories.
Memories of my father who had to work three jobs seven days a week (long story… we were poor) but who made sure that on the day of the Famous Monsters conventions, he took off to take me. And (remember I said we were poor) seemed to always have money for a book or model or poster for me at the conventions. And of watching Forry Ackerman hold court at those events. Now I, exhausted but triumphant, had done the same.
I recall seeing several young kids in the crowd throughout the event. I smiled and thought, “the torch is now passed.”
At the writing of this, I’ve just accepted the assistant festival director of Boston Sci-Fi and look forward to holding court there in February before I begin the march to Phoenix FearCon XI. I have some lovely ideas for next year.
I could not end this without mentioning my wife, Mary Elizabeth Micari. Smarter than I am by far, she was concerned that Covid was still the real monster out there and me — a man of a certain age — diving into a crowded space with enough unknown to make it hazardous should not attend but she said to me with equal parts fear and love — “I couldn’t do that to you so please be careful.” Her audible sigh of relief when I returned was as loud as the audible sigh of relief over two weeks later when I did not even sneeze out-of-turn. Thank you, Mary, I love you.
On behalf of the ghosties and ghoulies and long-legged beasties and things that go bump in the night … to dad and to Forry, we did it. And to Chris & Jim, I was 12 again, and for that you have my respect and abundant gratitude.
Phoenix FearCon Screaming Streaming is available until 31 December at https://phoenixfearcon.festivee.com where there are a full convention’s worth of interviews and events.
