FYI File: Fantasy, Nostalgia, and "The 2014 Project"

Now that this blog has been given its third and final (I swear!!) name, I thought I would shake things up a bit. Nothing so crazy as dropping the pink text color or updating the general appearance to a post-1997 look, of course. But there's a lot I've been wanting to say, so rather than post a succession of lengthy blog posts, I thought I'd post this variety pack of short ones. 

The Twentieth Anniversary of My Obsession With Anniversaries

The hits package that redefined my life. Like, seriously!

January '14 marked the 20th anniversary of my obsession with anniversaries. My first-time viewings of Starman, The Shining, Dawn of the Dead, and Working Girl on blistery and/or snowy Friday nights in January '94 mobilized in me a 1980s nostalgia that never went away. But it wasn't just the movies I watched that month, it was also buying THE album: Totally 80s, the 2-CD Razor & Tie compilation that was advertised on TV all the time before becoming the soundtrack to most of my life in the sixth grade. From 1994 on I was fetishizing every aspect of '80s pop culture while lambasting everything I could about the '90s. However, happy Friday nights ritualistically spent at the local multiplex limited my aptness for thrashing then-contemporary film. 

It is now a time capsule for what the world looked like in March '94,

but The Paper also remains grown-up Hollywood fare at its most brilliantly entertaining.

For the Class of 2000, 1994 was the year when the sixth grade ended and the seventh grade began. Thus the year closed with my being knee deep in adolescent angst, which only kept me going back into the past. I continually found myself disappointed by reality, so I was constantly choosing fantasies that were constructed in another era. My pre-pubescent childhood had been so happy, and the spirit of the '80s was so inextricably linked to my own soul, that I lamented the decade until it became an over-idealized Heaven that I dreamed of dying and going back to. I was not unaware of this being unhealthy, but that didn't make it any less painful to push forward, not when I discovered that being a teenager was to be a lot less pleasant than I had been imagining in the '80s. Instead of forging a new path that would make childhood dreams come true, I clung to the past as an escape while reality came crashing down in the present. And, for better or for worse, I've been inclined to do this ever since.

I related to Tess McGill when I was twelve. I still do now.

And I'll bet many of you reading this feel the exact same way.

A Sorta-Facade On The Verge of Sorta-Crumbling

There has been so much that I have wanted to communicate through this blog over the last fifteen months, but during said fifteen months my life has been in a major state of upheaval. Actually, it was in upheaval when I started this blog back in 2011. But way back then, things in my life were just starting to turn upside down, and the coinciding mini-phenomenon of “Vogue Boy” allowed me to escape reality like never before. For a moment in Summer '11, it felt like my dreams of being an artist and a star had been instantly realized when that video achieved its peak popularity in one weekend. It was during that delightfully manic moment that I quickly decided to become a blogger, and my early entries here are thus defined by an optimism, and even a sense of fulfillment, that apparently represents me at my purest.  

The-blog-formerly-known-as-RobWorld has been a tremendous outlet in the three years since since then, for it has allowed me to unlock and release parts of myself through the written word in a way that I could never do within the format of a screenplay. But for well over a year, I have not been inclined to do any unlocking or releasing, for I have discovered that my life experiences are a lot less vivid in my mind after I make them public here. And, as evidenced in past entries, my memories, and the role they play in shaping my creative output, are too precious to me to be sacrificed.

On some level, I've gotten more screenwriting done by not blogging. But on most levels it has denied me an outlet that I need: not only to write, but to be read. I might not have a huge readership on here, but the feedback I've received in personal messages has been too awesome to be ignored. There is no better feeling than knowing a handful of people were affected by work that they personally related to, or which made them look at a movie or a person or a similar life experience in a new light. I don’t know if I’ll start writing again more regularly, because I thought that that would be the case last November....and it wasn’t. But I think this has a lot to do with my wanting to make every post an event, in turn defeating the purpose that this blog serves, for me, in the first place. I am a hopeless neurotic, still in the middle of a challenging and annoyingly long life chapter, and I need a place to let all this shit out. Some people go to therapy. I go to the stage. And that’s exactly what this blog is to me.

From Sixteen To Thirty-Two: "The 2014 Project"

Like the film itself, I'll NEVER forget the first time I saw this trailer!

When I was sixteen, I realized that Wes Craven's Scream was released exactly eighteen years after John Carpenter's Halloween, which itself had been released exactly eighteen years after Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho. Years later, I would realize that Val Lewton and Jacque Tourneur's Cat People’s limited release in December 1942 meant it was the movie that launched this every-eighteen-years cycle. Since then, I’ve been anticipating "The 2014 Project", a film that would, like the aforementioned four films, inject the horror-viewing experience with enough wit and suspense to change the cinematic landscape and redefine the genre for another two decades.

The most bewitching of Hollywood films and

possibly the most influential horror movie ever made.

Since the late '90s, I have secretly hoped that the Universe would see fit to choose me to write this 2014 horror film, and much of my creative life has been spent preparing myself to be worthy of such an opportunity. Alas, I've proven far more adept at writing screenplays than actually getting them made into movies. And without ever seeing your work on some screen, one can hardly feel like a real screenwriter. So last year I attempted to put work of which I remain as proud as ever temporarily behind me, and to instead take a stab at crafting "The 2014 Project". I spent the entirety of 2013 working on eight different scripts, each of which I had hoped could potentially reinvent "the American horror film", but none of which ever made it to their respective finish lines. By New Year’s Eve, I was forced to admit defeat. I was proud of the work I had done, and confident that one day the characters and story elements from this arsenal of partial completion would find their way into my future projects. But by no means did I come close to striking the gold that I was digging for.

If every attempt at crafting a pure suspense picture was even half

as effective as Halloween, the world would be a much better place.

It was not until the very end of 2013 and the very beginning of 2014 that a burst of renewed inspiration and ambition (my favorite cocktail) launched me on a new path. My dream, in this easy-to-shoot-but-hard-to-distribute world of modern indie filmmaking, was that the work flowing out of me would find its way into the right hands, and a quickly-realized project (Cat People, Psycho, Halloween, and Scream were themselves low-cost/high-speed shoots) could theoretically find its way onto a VOD platform or into an early 2015 film festival. But nearly a third of the way into 2014, I'm inclined to believe that that dream will not come true....and I'm okay with that. It’s very likely that a great horror film will come along and make the impact I was hoping to make while I'm still pining away, and if that happens, I can finally say I was right all along. And hopefully, if that happens, 'my little horror film', whenever it makes its way to the screen, will still earn itself a place in the hearts of like-minded movie lovers. But for now, I think I'll put my faith in "The 2032 Project": I have good reason to believe I might be capable of writing something worthy of comparison to the aforementioned films when I'm fifty. In the meantime, I intend to enjoy the writing process instead of mourning my failure to be where I thought I would be when I was half the age that I am right now. 

No movie-going experience has come close to the first two times I saw Scream on the big screen. And I'm 99.44% sure that this will always be the case.

Furthermore, assuming that the every-eighteen-years cycle really does extend into this century, I'll be keeping my eyes peeled for the film that will ultimately redefine our collective concept of modern horror movies. There are already a few potential contenders in the pipeline, and 2014 has only just begun...

Fun With Lycanthropy: I Heart "The Howling"

I can’t recall the last time we had two Full Moons in one month, but I remember the ending of the John Landis classic An American Werewolf in London every time I hear the term “Blue Moon”. I never wrote about that film, one of my two favorite werewolf movies of all time. But I did write about the other one: Joe Dante’s The Howling. It still stuns me that they were both released the same year, both played to the same audience, and both reinvigorated the concept of “the horror-comedy” like no American movie since Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein. In honor of this lunar event, here is another piece from my days reviewing DVDs for the dearly departed Laser Exchange.

The Howling

April 19^th, 2001

Review by Robert Jeffrey

When I first saw Joe Dante’s The Howling, it was via the film’s original videotape incarnation (unfortunately I missed out on the theatrical run). At the time, I thought the film was bizarre and rather overrated. Of course, I was only seeing part of the film; the video was so dark and murky that I could not see what was going on most of the time. It was not until years later that I watched a “cleaned up” cable presentation and realized what a good movie The Howling really is. Perhaps the better the image, the more enjoyable my experience, because seeing The Howling on DVD I was finally able to fully appreciate its greatness.

Karen White (Dee Wallace) is a Los Angeles reporter suffering from nightmares, panic attacks, and frigidity as a result of a botched undercover mission that results in the shooting death of a serial killer called ‘Eddie the Mangler’. Karen’s psychologist, Dr. Waggner (Patrick MacNee), advises her to stay at “The Colony”, a self-help village that he operates. She and her husband Bill (Christopher Stone) travel to this secluded sector in Northern California for a week long “therapeutic vacation”. Before long, though, Karen starts to sense something is very wrong in The Colony. Her nightmares are becoming more vivid, and are now incorporating images of her husband and of people staying in The Colony. She hears howling in the night, and finds a mutilated cow in the woods.

Meanwhile, back in L.A., Terry (Belinda Balaski) and Chris (John Dugan), a young couple working at Karen’s TV station, investigate the death of Eddie the Mangler for a news special the station has planned. Eddie’s body disappears from the morgue, and they investigate further, only to discover that he was obsessed with werewolf mythology. When a panicky Karen calls Terry to tell her that Bill was bitten by a wolf in the woods, Terry rushes to The Colony to offer comfort and further her investigation. At this point, you can probably figure out where all this is headed. But The Howling is a film full of twists and turns, and to spoil even one would be an injustice to first-time viewers.

I have not seen enough werewolf movies to recognize every homage paid by this film, but apparently most of the characters are named after werewolf movie directors. An expository scene from The Wolf Man plays as Terry learns that Bill has been bitten by a wolf, and a cartoon adaptation of The Three Little Pigs is cut into one of the most classic, terrifying sequences. Additionally, there is a stellar roster of genre cameos: Kevin McCarthy (Invasion of the Body Snatchers), B-movie king Roger Corman, and Joe Dante regular Dick Miller, to name a few.  Sound familiar? Sixteen years before Scream was even a reality, The Howling invented the “self-referential scary movie” sub-genre. In fact, the humor laced throughout the film is generally the most celebrated element of The Howling. It was certainly among the most influential, for such contemporary classics as Evil Dead, Fright Night, Return of the Living Dead, Re-Animator, and of course Scream owe a debt to the road paved by this film.

The humor may be the most widely regarded facet of this film. However, in the end, this is a horror movie, and a damn scary one. Even coming on the heels of such classic shockers as Friday the 13^th, The Shining, and Dressed to Kill, The Howling still manages to hold its own-and then some. Joe Dante, who at this point was best known for the cult classic Piranha, updated werewolf folklore by applying it to two of the more popular horror trends of the time: female paranoia (Rosemary’s Baby, The Stepford Wives, Suspiria) and fear of non-urban environments (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Deliverance, The Hills Have Eyes). Dante makes the most of these two thematic elements, while also cultivating a classic, spooky atmosphere all too rarely seen in post-Psycho horror movies. Dante also manages to tap into primal childhood fears of the dark, the woods, the fog, and The Big Bad Wolf. In fact, some of the film’s most terrifying scenes make their mark because they so aptly recreate images from Little Red Riding Hood and The Three Little Pigs.

Looking back, it really is amazing how ahead-of-its-time this movie was. Not only did it turn the mirror on horror films of the past and present, but it also offered a shockingly accurate, post-Network glimpse into the media. From what I have read, the novel The Howling, by Greg Brandner, is vastly different, particularly in this regard. Instead of being an author, as she was in the book, Karen is a reporter, and this allows Dante to explore the notion that the American public in the early 80s was so desensitized that television had to resort to extreme shock tactics to maintain viewership. It also suggests that the same public was nonetheless too sophisticated to believe what was happening right in front of them. In this time of unprecedented cynicism and complacency (not to mention being the era of “reality shows”), Dante’s message is more relevant than ever.

When The Howling was released, it was extremely well received by critics and became a box office hit. Joe Dante went on to direct the blockbuster Gremlins. Dee Wallace went on to play the mother in E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial, which years later prompted one of the funniest lines in Scream. And special make-up effects man Rob Bottin went on to do equally classic work in such films as The Thing, Total Recall, and Se7en. As the cast and crew were busy moving on with their own successes, The Howling did not get its inevitable sequel until 1985’s loosely related (or so I have heard) The Howling II: Your Sister Is a Werewolf. Over the next ten years The Howling would amass a total of six sequels, many of them barely released in theaters or sent straight to video. I have never seen these films (has anyone seen them?), but from what I understand they give Amityville a run for its money as the worst horror franchise of them all. In fact, The Howling IV: The Original Nightmare, is actually a remake of the first film! Normally a string of ill received follow-ups harms a film’s reputation, but in this case, it may have actually strengthened it. More than two decades after its initial release, The Howling remains one of the most enduring horror films of the 80s. 

NOTE: This review was pared down to omit references to the Dutch DVD I was reviewing, as it is no longer in print and I was frankly more qualified to talk about horror movies than DVD technology. If my comments sound familiar, that’s because a similarly amended version of this and most of my other Laser Exchange reviews were ported over to The Internet Movie Database ten years before I began this blog.

To Be Twenty: Two Decades of The First "Slayer"

Once upon a time twenty years ago, Joss Whedon, perhaps the most brilliant screenwriter/director/visionary of my lifetime, had his heart broken with disappointment over Fran Rubel Kuzui's film adaptation of his first screenplay. Five years later, in a turn of events that only his brilliant wife Kai could predict, Whedon was given a second chance to breathe life into his greatest character. The impact that that TV incarnation had on my life and my writing (to say nothing of its impact on pop culture) warrants its own post. But today, twenty years after its opening weekend, I would like to offer my perspective on the film that preceded it, and the leading performance that no doubt positively affected countless other young LGBTQ lives as much as it did mine.

In my mythical Summer of 1991, Kristy Swanson was up there with Madonna and Paula Abdul as one of my chief Goddesses. I became obsessed with the film version of the V.C. Andrews bestseller Flowers in the Attic that summer, and particularly with Kristy Swanson’s performance. When my Dad took my sister and I to see Hot Shots! that same summer, I nearly died when I realized she was part of the ensemble cast. After the movie I couldn’t contain my delight that the star I was forever going on about had just appeared before my eyes on the big screen.

Flash forward to early summer 1992, when People Magazine put out their annual “Summer Preview” issue. Jennie Garth and Grant Shaw were on the cover to promote Melrose Place, and buried in there was a black and white photo of Kristy Swanson and a plot blurb about a movie called Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I thought the plotline about a cheerleader killing vampires meant a straight-out horror film, and as a ten year old, I felt like Hollywood was making this movie just for me. I loved horror movies, choreography, and Kristy Swanson. And after months of being obsessed with Heather Langenkamp’s ‘Nancy Thompson’ in the A Nightmare on Elm Street series and Sigourney Weaver’s ‘Ellen Ripley’ in the Alien films, I REALLY loved monster-defeating heroines. 

The ridiculously quotable trailer showed up before seemingly every single movie I saw that summer—complete with the cut “I am SO sure!” line. My excitement only mounted when I first saw the Kristy-less teaser poster on the very same day that I went to see Madonna in A League of Their Own. I can still remember the overwhelming thrill for its impending release, and looking back, I am truly shocked that I did not overdose on Goddess Energy that day. 

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was scheduled to be released on July 31st, and that same day was the opening of another movie I was waiting for all summer: Death Becomes Her. On opening day, there was a war amongst my friends about which we’d go see. Alas, that one and only time, “Buffy" did not win. 

I loved Death Becomes Her, but felt genuine guilt for not being there on the opening night of “Buffy”. About a week later, my Dad took my Sister and my friend Mike and I to see Buffy the Vampire Slayer in the same theater where we had seen Hot Shots!: the dearly departed General Cinema in Peabody, Massachusetts. My Dad and my sister sat in the back, while Mike and I sat in the front. I don’t remember anyone else excerpt for a pair of young girls sitting a few rows behind Mike and I. I only remember them because I didn’t know how we were supposed to react when they threw ice cubes at us for no reason. The unexplained mid-movie pelting marked the only time I was distracted during those 85 glorious minutes, for Buffy the Vampire Slayer was EVERYTHING I wanted it to be: the ultimate realization of my fantasy version of the film. 

I thought it was hilarious, and yet I may have been the only audience member who found it terrifying: despite already being a fan of The Exorcist, Halloween, and A Nightmare On Elm Street, the thought of friends turning into vampires frightened me more than my favorite horror films. But I was most affected by Kristy Swanson's performance and by her relationship with the male characters in the film: the lover (Luke Perry), the tormentor (Rutger Hauer), and the father figure (Donald Sutherland). It’s amazing how much this focus on one woman’s relationship with several men influenced the way I write movies as an adult. When I look back now, it’s all rather clear to me: I felt more like a girl than a boy. I didn't feel in inferior to boys, and certainly didn't dislike them. But I definitely felt different, and I yearned to better understand them.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer came out on video the day that my class got out for Christmas vacation, and I was once again counting down until we could go to the video store and rent the first copy. It wasn’t long before watching “Buffy” over and over became a way of life for me. It also wasn’t long before that practice became widespread amongst my generation, as the film became (unsurprisingly) a cult hit on video. Around that time, I was also constantly rewatching the “Elm Street” sequels, whose heroines I have always felt paved the way for Buffy. The impact of so many strong, self-reliant, seemingly fearless female warriors playing on the VCR throughout the fifth grade played a huge role in shaping my self-image. It also laid the foundation for my relentless opposition to gender roleplay: I loved that these heroines defied their gender expectations, but I also loved that I was able to personally relate to them far more than I could to male heroes. Even then, when I thought I was going through a bisexual phase and had no clue what “transgender” meant, it was important for me to underline that people’s perceptions of “man” and “woman” were severely miscalculated—if not total bullshit.

As evidenced by my attachment to Luke Perry’s turn as the almost unbearably dreamy ‘Pike’, I was also figuring out that I wanted one man to love me back. I was at the beginning of understanding my sexuality at that time, and it would be many home video viewings before I figured out why my fixation on Luke Perry’s beauty felt so different from my fixation on the beauty of Kristy Swanson. It's rather appropriate that a film which could easily be interpreted as a coming-out metaphor would play such a vital role in my own self-discovery. I vaguely recall trying to convince myself that my attraction was to one star and not the other, until denial became utterly ridiculous and Luke Perry became one of the first men I was ever consciously infatuated with. 

Pike remains one of my favorite romantic leading men in any of my favorite movies because he’s not perfected to the point of being a Hollywood fantasy. My identification with the original Buffy Summers had as much to do with wanting to save the world as it did with wanting to be one half of a partnership with a guy who would love, support, and empower me the way Pike did for Buffy. People like Pike do exist, as men and as women. They’re all “cool” in the way that matters most, and sometimes they’re even as gorgeous as Luke Perry. That’s why people like Pike fit with people like Buffy—and vice versa. Indeed, and while I don’t want to give away the ending for the uninitiated (SPOILER ALERT!), I have always felt that when Buffy and Pike rode off into the sunrise together on his motorcycle, they lived happily ever after in their alternate universe…and continue to do so.