From Zombos' Closet

Horror Fan Holiday Gift Guide for 2008

Hellz n' Bellz
Hellz n' Bellz
Screaming all the way!
What the hell, am I to do
With my horror fan's gift-buying today, hey!

"Well, what are you waiting for?" insisted Zombos. "Stop daydreaming and get out of the damn elevator shaft already."

We were playing Alone in the Dark and I kept getting killed. I refocused my attention and pulled my thoughts back from dwelling on the early days of PC games, keyboard and mouse controls, and cheat codes--lord knows I could use some omnipotence now. I stared at the Nunchuck and Wii-mote in my fumbling hands. My awkward, entirely useless hands, struggling to master the rudiments of the life-like motions and 'A', 'B', 'Z', button-presses needed to save myself--damn, fell down the elevator shaft again. Where is that '-' button anyway, and how do I use it to get past those blasted exhaust fans?

"You're impossible," encouraged Zombos, grabbing the Wii controls out of my hands. "Go do something useful, like putting together a book gift-buying list or something."

Now that was a good idea...

You Have Now Entered the Bookstore Zone

Another Sunday; another day in another week. Only this time a crack appears in the fabric of one hour. A hole, if you will, that suddenly swallows the mundane minutes, the usual seconds, twisting them into threads so unusual they border on the bizarrely out-of-time. A happy trip that quickly turns to consternation, makes a brief stop at disbelief, then hightails it full throttle to a place most experienced readers fear to go...next stop, the Bookstore Zone...

I visit my local Barnes & Noble, all two floors of it with Starbucks nestled in one corner by the magazine racks. It has been a while. I like B&N's magazine racks; they are better stocked than Borders. I find Gorezone and Screem issues and nod with satisfaction. I poke and prod a little more among the magazines then take the up escalator in the middle of the floor. My mission is simple: page through any books I can find on The Prisoner television series and check out the Horror Section for any interesting titles to browse. 

I circle the second floor. There's Mystery, Science Fiction, Fantasy, but no shelves marked Horror. I am confused. It gets worse when I see a small book rack set aside for Television. I start thinking my browsing experience is not going to be a good one. I'm sure of it when I can't find any books on The Prisoner.

I give up trying to find the Horror Section by sight alone and search using the nearest computer. Within two minutes an employee comes rushing over to berate me for using it. She tells me it is not for customer use. I think about pointing out how it is on, there is no sign saying I cannot use it, and how I can easily use any of the computers at Borders to search for books, but I decide against mentioning it. Over her continued petulance with my audacity, I ask where the Horror Section is. She looks at me with consternation, thinks about it some more. "Horror?" she asks. "Yes," I tell her. "Authors like Lovecraft, King, Ramsey Campbell, you know, Horror." She looks behind her, though I am not sure why,  then says, "Those books are in Fiction or Science-Fiction."

Now it's my turn to show consternation. "But Lovecraft is not science-fiction or simply fiction, he's Horror." I am adamant on this point.

Scott Essman Remembers Uncle Forry

Scott Essman remembers the Man of a Thousand Famous Monsters...

 

If there were any movie monsters on the radar of young boys from the Baby Boomers to Generations X and Y, it was surely due to the influence of Forrest J. Ackerman, who died today at age 92. From 1958 through the early 1980s, Ackerman edited over 200 issues of the fanzine "Famous Monsters of Filmland," a monthly magazine that is more responsible for the proliferation of genre fans treasuring their knowledge of science fiction, horror, and fantasy facts and personalities than any other publication like it - and very few were or have been since.

"Forry" as his fans knew him (also Count Alucard - Dracula backwards) was more than a publisher, collector of memorabilia, and ultimate fan, of which he was probably the greatest at each endeavor as far as his chosen genre; he was the spiritual father of all things monsters and space adventure. He was the ultimate champion of the marginalized B pictures that burst onto the scene in the early silents and became a mainstay of youthful picture-going. He was a figurehead who represented the wealth of pure joy that fans feel for their favorite films and heroes - and often villains - from those tomes. He was all of those things, but even more than that, director and Ackerman friend John Landis once called him "generous to a fault" when asked to describe his mentor - who he often put in his films in cameo appearances. Ackerman was renowned to give free tours of his Hollywood Hills "Ackermansion" a house where he kept numerous props, books, and other items from his favorite projects of the past.

When Famous Monsters debuted in 1958, traditional science fiction and movie monsters had given way to atomic-age grand-scale epics and low-budget monster quickies.  But Ackerman, through his own personal interest, appealed to the 12-year-old boy that he eternally became by running photos and stories of bygone horrors such as the Universal Monster classics, and exalting the triumphs of their creators, such as Frankenstein director James Whale and monster makeup guru Jack Pierce, while giving due credit to the Boris Karloffs, Bela Lugosis, Lon Chaney and Chaney, Jrs. and their ilk. Also easy to forget is that in 1958, no publication existed as "seriously" dedicated to the study of movie "sci-fi" - a term that Ackerman coined - and the behind-the-scenes aspects of movie ghouls and gremlins. In fact, the explosion of genre movie magazines in the wake of Famous Monsters is undoubtedly due to Ackerman's genuine passion for the field, a dedication that he imparted to his legion of readers, many of whom number the top makeup artists and directors of the past thirty years.

As is often told in fan conventions and festivals, the generations of Boomers and Xers who first read Famous Monsters often had to sneak out to the newsstand to get the latest copy behind their parents' backs, then read it in their closets with flashlights on after bedtime. In the end, now that his original audience has had children and a new group of Gen Y and millennials have come around to discover old issues of FM via eBay, Ackerman's pursuits as editor of Famous Monsters and a noted Hollywood personality probably had an impact on more people than he could possibly know. As was carefully documented in Paul Davids' documentary "The Sci-Fi Boys," Ackerman, along with his close friends and peers, including author Ray Bradbury, and stop-motion animator Ray Harryhausen, created a whole world of fans who went onto become creators themselves.

Evidently, from the films of Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, to the stories of Stephen King, to the homages in the films of Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro, Ackerman spawned not only a vast fan base but an equally large and committed group of aspiring artists. And as any who knew him could attest to, he did so with graciousness and an abundance of love for not only the films themselves, but also the people involved - in both the making of the movies and the sheer numbers of fans who celebrated them. In the realm of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, that makes Ackerman a wholly unique individual whose kind will not likely ever be seen again.

Comic Book Review: Vincent Price Presents 1, 2, 3

Using the persona of famed horror actor Vincent Price to host a series of illustrated terror tales is a demanding challenge. While Price is noted for his appearances in movies that run the gamut of genre tastes, he never faltered in delivering a performance that was always interesting and entertaining. Even if the movie was not all that good, you could always count on Price to have fun with it, thereby making it fun for horror fans. But can his unique personality and image remain true when conjured up for Blue Water Comics' Vincent Price Presents? Or will we get a manga-ized, perhaps washed-out looking Price who chuckles over his ill-fitting lines of dialog, and squints his inky eyes across tedious panels of trite and recycled scare stories? Let's find out in our one-two punch review.

Issue 1: Welcome to the Family of the Night

Zombos Says: Good

 

Now, little boy. There's a vampire waiting especially for you. And he's very large. And he's very very hungry. First, he'll feed, and then he'll bottle what's left for cocktails.

Chad Helder, author; Ray Armenteros, story artist; Joel Robinson, framing artist; Malachi Sharlow, letterer; Darren G. Davis, editor.

Robinson's photo-realistic framing art is excellent for capturing the facial nuances of Price as he introduces, and gives parting commentary for, the story of a vampire utopia where humans, especially children, are a controlled food supply. We follow one child named R, who is unfortunate enough to be "adopted" by Mr. and Mrs. Clive, two vampires with a big appetite. Armenteros's story art splashes paint-like strokes between darkness and bold colors across panels of varying shapes and sizes. His facial close-ups of the Clives staring down at R as they put him to bed, and R staring up at them before they put the bite on him for a nightcap, are chilling. Helder's narrative is a sci-horror blend of vampiric blood-sucking terror and android saviors, generating a palpable fear of R's predicament of being trapped in a deadly situation with vampire "parents" bleeding him dry every night until he dies. This first issue is a good beginning for the series.

Issue 2: Orok the Neanderthal

Zombos Says: Fair

My brother you have come to join me.
I have been so lonely. Every day is an eternity.
Every night is a feast.

Chad Helder, author; Giovanni Timpano, story artist; Joel Robinson, framing artist; Malachi Sharlow, letterer; Jesse Heagy, colors.

Alas, poor Yorick, the momentum begun in issue one is not sustained in this story of lycanthropy and cavemen. The more photo-realistic looking Price, pondering homo sapiens while looking at a skull, introduces Helder's tale of primitive evil and early man's fight against it. There is very little dialog here--okay, they are cavemen--but the oversized panels broadcast the action with little subtlety. Timpano's artwork is adequate, but has no flair. It adds no emotional depth to Orok's personal loss, or the ferocity of his opponent, or the duality of good and evil in man's nature. Helder's lack of narrative description in these panels, combined with the little dialog there is, leaves us looking at them at face value, with no mythic insight, no clarity of the story's intent, and, more seriously, no tension to emotionally involve us.The B-movie twist-ending does not add to the story; instead, it serves to diffuse whatever mythological significance it may have contained. This second issue is not a good way to sustain the series.

Issue 3: A Whistle to Open Worlds

Zombos Says: Good

Beware, you are about to witness an All-American nightmare. Many readers will recognize the setting for this horror tale. It is called the microcosm, the world in miniature.

Chad Helder, author; Ray Armenteros, story artist; Joel Robinson, framing artist; Malachi Sharlow, letterer; Darren G. Davis, editor.

With editor Davis's return, this weird story of quantum-induced nightmare by Helder moves the series firmly back on track. Once again, Armenteros splashes his bold strokes across each page, barely keeping within the boundaries of his own panels. Creating a Van Gogh Starry Nightmare against a snowbound backdrop with his primitive swirlings, his visual momentum energizes Helder's bizarre predicament for African-American physicist Andrew Routledge. Tension and a building puzzle keep the reader involved until the last page, where the surprise explanation(?) awaits. Price's beginning and ending commentary is more playful and more important here, helping to explain the main narrative.

But exactly what is Helder getting at? That's the tough question, and one that elevates this issue to metaphorical implications beyond face value. Just what--or who--is the Shadow Man, and why does he cause the people in this Currier and Ives town to change into pop-eyed monsters that look vaguely familiar. Is Routledge trapped within his own reality or someone else's? And who is the man with the big smile who gave him the whistle to blow when the time was right? What the hell is going on? The folk-art styled illustration is a clue as both Helder and Armenteros work together to make this unique third issue more than frightfully good.