From Zombos' Closet

Interview: The Gibbering Horror of Steve Daniels

Going out for a brisk bike-ride down a lonely country road? What's that key lying in the road? What does it open? Say, maybe that run-down house in the woods. I bet the key belongs to it's owner. But who is the owner? And what are all those cryptic notes that suddenly appear, slipped through a door that cannot be opened? What does it all mean?

To find out, you will have to watch the short horror film, The Gibbering Horror of Howard Ghormley on Fangoria's Blood Drive II DVD. But be prepared for the unexpected in this creepy journey into the fantastic. To help with your preparation, upcoming horror director, and all-around bon vivant and fellow Stoogologist, Steve Daniels, comes into the closet to chat about Ghormley.

The Gibbering Horror of Howard Ghormley is a very creepy 12 minutes shot on grainy, b&w 8mm. Your use of 8mm film, and diegetic and non-diegetic sound is very unnerving. Can you tell us more about your artistic decisions when choosing and composing these elements for your story?

Thank you. I have been making Super 8mm films since 2000, and I really love the look and feel of the format. I am very thankful that Kodak continues to manufacture and support the film. Super 8, especially when shot at 18 frames per second as Ghormley was, tends to illicit a strong nostalgic vibe with viewers because of it's use in old home movies. I have always associated things, scary things, to be scarier if they occurred in the past. Although I did not specify a time frame in the film, I imagined Ghormley taking place in the 1930's or 40's, so shooting the film in the grainy black and white Super 8 heightened that aged effect.

Because Ghormley was based on a disturbing, recurring dream I had, I wanted the audio from the film to reflect that surreal, dream-limbo quality. The film is "heard" through Ghormley's head. It's meta-diegetic sound. Real world sounds are selectively heard, unnaturally amplified or distorted to a very unnatural effect. The music/sound design, masterfully done by Chris Bickel, is both non-diegetic and meta-diegetic, as one could argue, as it both comments and compliments the action on screen, and reflects poor Ghormley's agitated mental state as the story progresses.

What challenges as the director and writer did you face in transferring your dream to film? Were there any trade-offs between these roles?

At first, it was a challenge to transfer the images of the dream to film, because I had such strong images in my mind to begin with. I had distinct ideas of what everything should look like and how it should behave. Once I let that go, it was easy to use the dream as a foundation and build a more developed idea from that. There were no trade-offs in my two roles as director and writer because the story and the visuals were one in the same. It's a visually driven and nonverbal film, so the images had to tell the story.

In another interview, you mention the directors that influenced you. You also added The Three Stooges. I'm a big fan of the Stooges, and the directors. Can you elaborate further on how the zany trio and various directors formed your approach to filmmaking? And, most importantly, which stooge is your favorite?

Man, I love The Three Stooges. My brother and I grew up watching them on account of our dad and I've remained a fan. I think it's a dude thing because no woman I know likes the Stooges. It's that primal intensity of slapstick violence. The kinetic energy of all the slapping and eye poking, and it's just funny dammit . I guess what I love about them is how the gags come off so smoothly at the same time realizing how much choreography went in to all the clever cause and effect action. You know, Larry lifts the ladder, Curly ducks, the ladder swings and hits Moe in the jaw, Moe drops the paint bucket on Curly's foot, and Larry get's his hair pulled out.

Speaking of Larry, I guess he's my favorite stooge. He's the glue that keeps the group together, and is like the quiet underdog of the bunch. As I've gotten older, I have experienced a type of Stooge-maturity, and I can now proudly say I love Shemp Howard. Like most people, as a kid I would boo the tv screen if a "Shemp" episode would come on instead of a Curly one. As I've matured, I've grown to appreciate Shemp's comic prowess. He was a funny dude, and rightfully deserves the respect of all us Stooge fans the world over. Heebeebeebeebee.

The house and surrounding woods used in the film are very effective. Can you tell us more about them?

I grew up exploring old houses, the south is littered with them, so I am always on the look out for an old "house place" to check out. I first discovered the house just as the character Ghormley does in the film. I noticed the chimneys just barely peaking out of a dense outcropping of large trees in a large barren field. It was exhilarating to push through the underbrush to see this massive, abandoned, vine covered farm house looming above me. The film does not come close to doing justice to the size and creepiness of the place. It's just gigantic. I was lucky to locate the owner of the house and got permission to film there. I learned the house had been built sometime in the mid 1800's, and it still was structurally in great shape.

Are there any anecdotes you can share with us regarding your filming of Gibbering Horror?

It took a very long time, almost a year in fact, of shooting on weekends and fighting a ton of production woes to finish the film. On top of having broken bicycle chains, a car stuck in the mud, a broken generator, at one point we discovered that almost 90 percent of the film had to be completely re-shot because of a camera malfunction. I soon realized our small crew were living out the plot of the film. Just like Ghormley, we were caught in this cyclic pattern of returning to the house and repeating the same things over and over. It's a wonder we ever finished it.

Soon after I completed editing the film, I was driving and suddenly my vision began to spin. It was terrifying. I had an infection in my inner ear which caused a vertigo attack, and had to go to the emergency room. The attack was almost identical to the spinning shot that appears near the end of the film. The cyclic theme of Ghormley had permeated my existence.

What other film formats do you work in, or would like to?

I shoot most of my films in Super 8, but I also shoot on video. I'd like to move up to a 16mm or 35mm, or even High Def video at some point.

What's your next horror film about, and what format will it be shot in? Why use that format?

My next horror film is called Dirt Dauber which is based on a original story of mine that gives a large nod to H.P. Lovecraft's mythos. It involves a man who discovers an abandoned train tunnel in a mountainous region that was started but never completed during the 1800's. Foreboding local legends surround the tunnel in the mountain that leads to nowhere. Local legend tells of a giant, unspeakable horror that dwells within. I plan to shoot this tale on both black and white, Super 8 and 24p color video.

You mention H.P. Lovecraft as a pivotal figure in your artistic development. What other writers influence you and why?

Those early pulp writers who made up the "Lovecraft Circle":  Clark Ashton Smith, Robert E. Howard, Robert Bloch, Frank Belknap Long and others.   My father, James Daniels, who follows in the southern tradition of great story telling recently wrote his first book called Hope. His richly detailed, character-driven story telling abilities have always inspired me. I also greatly admire the work of Richard Matheson and Ambrose Bierce.

As a director, much of what you do is visually composed. What artists (from any graphic genre) influence you and why?

I recently discovered the art of David Hartman  that really excites me. He does great stylized illustrations of "pulpy" monsters. His work is inspiring because it reminds me of pure, unfiltered childhood fears that are so easy lost because of adult rationality. It takes me back to when I was a kid and a Hartman-like toothy, white eyed, swamp ghoul holding a rusty butcher's cleaver could and DID in fact exist in my parents dark, musty basement. I miss those monsters and Hartman brings them back for me.

Old-time radio was your inspiration for the tone and structure of Gibbering Horror. I love old-time radio shows, too. Can you elaborate on which ones are your favorites, and how they helped you create Gibbering Horror?

My aunt bought me a collection of OTR horror tapes on a road trip when I was young, and when it got dark I listened to the tapes, and they completely freaked me out. I don't think I knew what was going on story wise, but the rough quality of the sound and a woman screaming on the episode, coupled with my imagination traveling down a dark country Arkansas road, really got under my skin.

I really enjoy Arch Obler's Lights Out. Inner Sanctum, Quiet Please, Suspense, Escape, are also some of my favorites.

I wanted Ghormely to look and feel like a old time radio horror show looked in my imagination when I listened to an episode. There is a musty pulpy-ness I wanted to convey. Like in OTR horror shows, the tone of Ghormley can come close to campy pulp but I wanted that impending dread, that dead-cold seriousness that suffocates everything in those stories.

If you were a monster, which one would you be, and why?

When I was young I thought it would be cool to be a werewolf. In fact, when I hit puberty and I got all hairy, I convinced myself for a short time I was a werewolf. I guess now I'd have to be an amorphous, unspeakable Lovecraft horror....Yog Sothoth or a Shoggoth. That way I could morph and form my shape shifting mass to all types of indescribable abominations.

Finally, is there any question you've always been dying to answer but no one ever asked? Now's your chance.

Finally! Here goes: "Steve, have you ever sang and recorded with a well known punk band?" Why yes, indeed I have!  The Queers, a  pop punk band from New Hampshire came through town over 10 years ago to the local recording studio to do a "live studio" album. As a joke, I yelled out a song request from their earlier days, a song called "Love Me", and they called me up to sing lead vocals. I forgot some of the lyrics and sloppily made up the rest, but to my utter surprise they recorded the song and released it as a rare bonus 7inch single, (the flip side was a cover of Louie Louie). It was included with the equally ultra-rare Shout at the Queers vinyl only LP. It was limited to 666 pressed records. My punk rock claim to fame. Whooo mercy.

Interview: Dead Lantern Speaks

Writer and director of The Grand Horror, Mat Kister, steps into the closet to chat about his effective cross-genre first film, a three-hundred dollar budgeter that has stressed-out people desperately trying to not get eaten by a horde of zombies outside while desperately trying to not get killed by a homicidal ghost inside. And you thought you had it bad.

What's a nice guy like you doing in the horror business?

Just trying to make movies. The horror genre has always fascinated me from an early age and it’s all I’ve ever really wanted to do.

How did The Grand Horror come about?

We conceptualized it and then began the first day of shooting in less than a month. My friends and I had always had ideas for movies and had flirted with the idea of doing one, but they never seemed to get past the treatment phase. My friend Braden and I were in a band at the time and we were playing a show at the Theatre. Braden’s uncle was one of the board members and took us on a tour through the basements and corridors and the various secret areas that the audience never gets to see.

The theatre itself was just magnificent and so damn creepy that we decided on a whim “We gotta make a movie here!” I went home and hammered out the storyline, conned a few friends into helping out, and off we were, on an adventure no one was quite sure how it would end.

What did it take to bring the concept from idea to finished film?

The actual shoot itself went fairly smoothly in that we had the typical problems associated with a no-budget picture (camera and sound malfunctions, a lack of any real knowledge in how to make a movie, etc.), but after a couple weekends we more or less had all the kinks worked out. Then, it was just a matter of finishing the shoot. There were multiple times when it looked like we would be shooting forever and everyone got a little, shall we say, grumpy. Originally, I was like “We’ll have this thing shot in 3 weekends”, which is all that the actors originally agreed upon. The shoot went on for nine weekends. But we all got through it

The editing process was a nightmare. We never differentiated between different takes and didn’t label the tapes in any discernible, logical way. Essentially, we had just hit “record” on the camera and kept shooting until tapes ran out. Since we didn’t shoot the scenes in order, when we started loading all of the footage and takes onto our computers, we saw right away that we were in for a stressful time.

Try going through 30 full mini-DV tapes with no guide! It was horrible! To compound how awful it was, the whole film ended up being ad-lib, which meant that even though we finally put all the footage into rough scenes, every single take had a different piece of dialogue! Trying to sync the characters dialogue was probably the worst thing I’ve ever gone through in my life. It took nearly a year for me to get through it and looking back on it, I’m surprised we were even able to garble a storyline out of it.

There are shoestring budgets, and there are no-shoes budgets: how did you get it done with so little money?

The actors and crew worked for free and the location was free. We didn’t have any major special FX work, so all we bought was some Wal-Mart brand corn syrup (Karo was too expensive for us!) and food coloring, and a white shirt with a pair of black pants. All the different ghosts in the film are wearing the exact same outfit! We just threw some blood on it to make it look gross. You’d be surprised how far fake blood can go.

Rhyann’s death, for example, is nothing more than dumping a gallon or so of fake blood all over, covering her face in it, and then adding sound FX to “show” what we couldn’t visually: namely a graphic head smash on the counter. Deejay Scharton did all of the sound FX and music in one 24 hour cram session on my mom’s living room floor, and I give a lot of credit to him for enhancing the atmosphere of the film. Without his sound work, The Grand Horror would have suffered quite a bit. And he was free, too. He is a musician and had a portable studio for recording bands and so we got all the music free and were lucky enough to have access to a talented musician.

The one thing about all of us is that we each bring a different talent and strength to the project, whether it be Deejay’s music, Steve’s enthusiasm and ideas, Braden’s wisdom and glue to keep it all together, or the rest of the cast’s dedication to see it through, we all contributed a piece of what makes us unique in order to see the project finished and I think that is what makes it most rewarding.

How did you assemble the cast? Friends of friends, family?

I just asked them. Rhyann was the only member of the cast that didn’t live in Nebraska at the time. She was a theatre actress in California and we’d been friends for a number of years and she agreed to fly out and be in the movie. That was cool because then we’d jokingly tell everyone “Yeah, we have an actress flying in from California to be in our film!”

Pam is my step-sister and Robert is my uncle and they were actually the only people in the cast who actually memorized lines and tried to create unique characters. I give them a lot of credit for that. I told everyone else to “just be yourselves”. But yeah, everyone in the film was either a friend of mine or family member with the exception of a couple people like John Evans who was a volunteer who helped out at the Grand. He was the “Cannibal Ghost” and was really enthusiastic about it, which I think shows during his scene.

Did you encounter any rough spots along the way? How did you overcome them?

The only real "rough spot” was the editing process which was akin to having hot pokers stuck into every orifice of my body. Other than that, we had to deal with losing our external mic set up which forced us to use the audio from the camera itself, which kinda sucked.

Something went frizzy with Deejay’s portable studio, not that it would have mattered since his car broke down and he couldn’t make it to the shoot after the second weekend (he was driving from Colorado to Nebraska every weekend). Since the shoot went 6 weeks longer than I had envisioned, Rhyann had to go back to California, which was a problem…until she got engaged to Jeremy (who she met on set) and stayed put.

Everyone was injured in some way while shooting. T.J. kicked a grate open during the scene when he and Steve saves Pam, but his foot got caught between the bars and when they kicked the gate open, it twisted his foot around. I have some funny footage of that. After working so many hours, the cast had the tendency to hit up the local bar that was right around the corner, so you have a lot of the scenes in the film where the actors are noticeably drunk, which I thought was funny since they “acted” better drunk than sober. But for what it was, I think we handled the problems quite well.

What advice can you give to other independent filmmakers who want to get that first film in the can?

Just go out and shoot one. Gather your close friends and family, people you know who will be willing to run the gauntlet for you, and start shooting. Come up with a basic story and let your creativity run wild. The Grand Horror is nothing more than ghosts killing people. It’s important to know that just because you think you have the greatest story ever and you want to tell it, that doesn’t mean you have to do it the first time out. Start slowly, get your feet wet, and most importantly, just worry about getting something done. Your film doesn’t need to be sold or accepted at Sundance to be successful.

I think we’ve shown that, if nothing else, you CAN make a movie for $300 and a cheap camera (ours was a Panasonic that had been bought at a retail store). The quality may not get you the Academy Award for Best Editing, but that doesn’t really matter as much as the experience you had making it. It’s something you’ll remember forever, just don’t worry about making something perfect your first time out.

What's the one question you would love to be asked, and what's the answer?

Q: “What is the greatest movie ever made?”

A: Big Trouble in Little China

So what's next?

A couple things: first is a web-only horror series for Deadlantern.com that will take place within the universe/mythology of The Grand Horror. We’re going to explain a lot of things with these 5-7 minute films that will be released every couple of months, including the back story that was only hinted at in The Grand Horror; that is, what the “darkness” is, why these supernatural things are occurring, etc.

The big thing I’m excited about is that we are going to make these short films so that they have direct viewer participation. I don’t want to give too much away right now, but the viewers will have a direct impact on how the story goes. I think a lot of people will find it neat. We’re filming the first episode in May and hopefully it will go online in June.

The second thing is a feature length slasher film dealing with the issue of abortion. It’s way too complicated to try and explain here, but we’re definitely NOT going the exploitation route. We’re trying to make a new kind of slasher film that makes you think and is a sort of “cinematic debate” about the abortion issue. I hope we can pull it off.

Movie Review: Mala Carne (2003)

ZC Note: Reviewing the links, I see they are no longer available, so I've removed them. Not sure where you can get a copy or view this as of 05/28/2011.

Now playing on the Internet near you, Mala carne, or Carnal as it's now called, is Fabian Forte's low-budget, edited in-camera film about female vampires looking for a bite, two computer nerds looking for a snack, and some rather nasty business going on just down the street. Filled with close-ups, stark coloring and lighting, and quirky visual tid-bits that give you a warm and creepy feeling, Carnal is a fun romp from the less-is-more school of filmmaking.

That's the great thing about low-budgets: you either swim with cheap but creative ideas, or sink with an unimaginative and stifling cloche that fits the budget — and looks like it. I was pleasantly surprised to find Argentine director Forte swimming nicely with his low-key mix of off-kilter dialog and bizarre scenes that casually go by, causing you to wonder "did I just see what I thought I saw?"

The tagline for the film had me worried that it was another torture and pain exercise in human agony, but as it turns out the story relies more on implicit story-telling as opposed to ramping up the gore-to-the-walls visualization, and ends with an EC Comics-styled hint at much more hideous goings-on. Sequel anyone?

Patricio and Eduardo don't know what they're heading into when they decide to take a break and find an open restaurant. The night is ominously quiet, and there are few people on the street. When one of our intrepid pair notices a "smell like dead cows," you know trouble is coming with a big capital T.

He also notices two ladies hanging out on the street with that coy and come-hither look. The inevitable co-mingling follows, and soon the boys are mixing it up with the girls. Even the hint of boy-girl interaction in a horror film means excruciating death, so you know that big capital T is moving closer.

But director Forte mixes it up a bit, too. He plays it slow as the mixer winds up at the ladies' apartment. Chit-chat, a little game-playing, and nonchalant events ante-up the tension a little bit at a time. Our frisky pair of guys don't quite get it at first, but we do. There's that scene with them chatting around the table and one of the girls goes to the fridge. As she opens the door, Eduardo, the more level-headed one, notices something odd on one of the shelves; but it doesn't quite register. Then there's that bizarre syphilis discussion between Eduardo and one of the girls as she shows him her creepy doll collection with Mrs. Death Is the Prostitute, her favorite. And just what the heck is going on with the lights? They keep flickering on and off; and even when they stay on they make the rooms in the apartment more ominous-looking. All this oddity, mixed with the grainy texture of the film, makes us begin to feel Eduardo's unease as he tries to persuade his friend to leave; but Patricio is hot-to-trot.

Before you can say "where's my pants, I want to run like hell," in Argentinian, the guys are rendered impotent and the girls start getting rough. Eduardo has it a little better. His date just wants to dress him up in -- hey, who's clothes are these? And was that a body or two in her closet? Soon enough, he's having tea with Mrs. Death is the Prostitute, and being cuddled and coiffed, just like one of her creepy -- from the eBay Goth collectibles section -- dolls.

Forte lingers on the use of sharp objects in close proximity to vital bodily areas very teasingly, and creates tension through implication. With Eduardo and Patricio unable to move, speak, or beg for mercy, their helplessness becomes an unsettling experience for us as well as them.Then there's that creepazoid in the basement; you will need to see that for yourself.

While serves-him-right Patricio gets more nasty attention from the vampy ladies, Eduardo's paralysis  wears off, and he's soon alternating between playing possum and looking for an escape route. But can he get out? Or will they do a little surgery on him, too, like they did with Patricio? And who's that strange guy paying them a visit? Just what exactly is going on here?

To find out, you can watch the film online, or buy the DVD from TMG Flicks. The Behind the Scenes featurette contains a detailed account of Forte's filmmaking, and interviews with the actors. Shot in five working days with a Sony hand-held camera, Carnal is a good example of effective, low-budget filmmaking that just might creep you out. Even if just a little.

Interview: Director Lance Weiler

"Can I come out now?" A sheet of paper slid under the closet door as Zombos entered the room.

He stooped to pick it up. "Who is in my closet and what is this?" he asked, looking at the sheet.

"Oh, that's director Lance Weiler. I locked him in there until he finished answering a few questions," I said, taking the sheet from him.

Zombos looked perplexed. "But what is he doing in my closet?"

"I mentioned to him about your vast collection of horror-related trinkets, gimcracks, and movie spoilage. He couldn't wait to see it," I explained. “That’s how I got the interview in the first place.”

"You locked the director of Head Trauma in my closet?"

"Yes.”

"To be clear, the co-director of The Last Broadcast, the first digitally-rendered and distributed movie, is locked in my closet?

"Yes."

Zombos was silent for a moment. "Make sure you check his pockets before he leaves."

"Of course," I assured him.

Zombos left the room. I took out the key to unlock the door.

"Hey, wait a minute." said Weiler, "I didn't see what's down Aisle K. Man, this place is huge."

I put the key back in my pocket. Now that I had his answers, there was no rush.

 

What motivated you to become an indie director/writer? 

I got hooked on photography at an early age and thought that I'd become a photo journalist, but then I fell in love with movies. I started making movies in high school, instead of writing papers, and I was hooked.

What should budding independent directors be doing now to shape their careers?

Write, shoot and edit as much as you can. The more you do it the better you'll become. Watch what others are doing. If there is someone that you respect, research how they made it to where they are. Don't give up. if you have the drive and the desire it will work out. Lastly, take the time to learn as much about the process as possible. The more you know about all the aspects of filmmaking the better.

Which directors influence you the most and why?

Stan Brakhage for his daring use of image and experimental structure. I've seen Dog Star Man more than any other film, and I never grow tired of it. Roman Polanski for the atmosphere and tension he brings to films like Repulsion, The Tenant, Rosemary's Baby and Chinatown. David Lynch for his independence and warped vision of the world. Inland Empire is a return to the strange and bizarre world that harkens back to Eraserhead.

You were a pioneer for digital filmmaking when it was a small blip on the industry's radar: why, and what challenges did you face going all digital?

It was bleeding edge at the time. When Stefan [Avalos] and I started making The Last Broadcast in 1996 the concept of editing on a desktop PC was a novelty. We had to build our own computers to do it. But we were determined to make a movie with pro-sumer gear. In the end we helped to spark a whole digital revolution not only in the way we made the movie, but in the way we distributed it. At the time, digital was treated like a bastard child. There was an attitude that if it wasn't shot on film then it wasn't serious filmmaking. A couple years later the attitude would change. Now digital is an excepted way to make work.

What are your favorite horror and non-horror films? Why?

The Tenant — love the tone and atmosphere. It is a haunting film, and it's pacing is slow and methodical. The Conversation — I think it's one of Coppola's best films. I love the use of sound, and the political undertones are just as relevant today as they were during Watergate. The Shining— I'm a huge fan of Kubrick. Alien — thrill ride with amazing vision and production design that still looks great today. Docs like Grey Gardens, High School, Salesman — cinema verite at its best. There are a ton of others that I love for various reasons.

Where do you see the film industry heading in terms of production and distribution in the years to come?

Digital. Everything will be digital. The number of movies shot on film will continue to drop until everything is eventually shot digitally. Distribution to theaters, homes, hand-held devices, etc., will all be digital. We'll be drowning in media and movies. Movies will find narrow niches and devout audiences, like the way magazines and music have. Since things will be digital a remixing culture will explode and we'll see more remixes of movies. Both fan driven, and depending on digital laws maybe, even a remix culture that can turn a profit. The biggest challenges will be around copyright, rights management and fair use.

Complete this sentence: If I had (blank), I'd (blank). Please explain your fill-ins for the blanks, too.

If I had 10 million dollars I'd create ten movies with various directors and start a new filmmaking model that gave control and ownership to the people creating the work. The films would be all digital and there would be no physical media like DVDs. Everything would be delivered via digital distribution. In addition, we'd work to involve the audience in every phase of the process to allow them to observe from start to finish. They would also be able to contribute in various ways.

Movie Review: Head Trauma (2006)

Zombos Says: Very Good

Suppose you left your town and home many years ago, and drifted along here and there, never putting down roots. Suppose you are homeless, friendless, and suffer from a fragmented memory, whose shards of clarity are confusing and terrifying. What is it you can't remember, but can't seem to fully forget? Portrait of a man in crisis: George Walker.

In indie director and co-writer (along with Brian Majeska) Lance Weiler's Head Trauma, George Walker returns to his deceased grandmother's house and soon goes head to head with those shards of memory; and a mysterious and ominous Snorkel Parka dressed individual who just may be a maniacal killer.

But why does he go after George? Is it because George's return to his grandmother's abandoned and condemned house, filled with dark corners, squatter debris, and a really creepy attic—

"This review won't fly, you know," said Zombos, peering over my shoulder.

"What?" I said.

"Didn't you listen to the director's commentary? He mentions this film came from his own experience with head trauma after a serious auto accident. He goes on to mention how he worked through Kubler-Ross' stages of grief and—"

"You mean her five stages of receiving really bad news. Not sure how "grief" got in there over the years, but the original sense was for catastrophic news; which can lead to grief, I suppose."

"Whatever," said Zombos. "The point I am trying to make is that you can't review the story without realizing  the director's subtexts of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance that pace the film into a character study of self-awareness."

"You mean how George was in a state of denial for many years before he returns to his deceased grandmother's house?"

"Right. In the opening scene, we see George sleeping out in the open, and awakened by a bad dream of an auto accident. He is making the trek back to his grandmother's house."

"But what about the anger part?"

"When he returns home, he has to deal with a neighbor that wants the house demolished so he can buy the property, a massively flooded basement, a ruined relationship with old-flame Mary, the presence of a mysterious person dressed in the parka, and trying to keep the house from being torn down."

"With all those bad nightmares of his on top of all that, I'd say he has some anger management going on. Okay, what about bargaining?"

Zombos thought for a moment. "He has to bargain with Julian, the young man next door for help in fixing the house up. He also bargains that he can persuade the town's building inspector to not have the building torn down. He tries to bargain with Mary."

"The ex-girlfriend he meets in the local hardware store while looking for a water pump?"

"Right. Apparently they had something going on between them before he left town. His showing up at her door, with pie no less, at an ungodly hour of the morning is a bargaining ploy."

"And he wants to spend the night with her because he is also scared of being in the house alone," I added. "Everybody thinks the place is haunted anyway. And even Julian is creeped out when he has to go into the attic, or down in the basement alone."

"Yes, there are nice shock cuts that keep the tension going, along with brooding scenes of the house and its desolate rooms. No splatter gore, or naked screaming nubile woman to distract you from the carefully paced mood," agreed Zombos. "The focus stays on George, his depression over his current state of affairs, and failure to achieve his goals, and his growing realization of something just out of the corner of his eye waiting to poke a finger in it. I daresay his encounter in the basement with the dark hair bobbing up out of the water, presumably attached to a head just out of sight, would unsettle anyone's nerves."

"The eerie tooth wrapped in dark hair, found between the floorboards, and the intercut of scenes—and here Weiler keeps you guessing as to whether they are flashbacks, or lucid dreams, or depictions of events in real-time—keep us off balance until the acceptance part of the film."

"The shock cuts of the J-horror girl in the woods, in the house, in the flooded basement are done well. While not very frightening, they still move the story to a point of realization for George and us. Things were not quite what they seemed, and George's head trauma covered up another, deeper trauma." I pushed my chair back from the desk. "Elements in the film trigger George's visions, but also tie his present life to his more secret past life.

"Those scenes do not need to be very frightening," said Zombos. "They do need to unsettle and confuse George and us, and that's what they do."

"The production values for this indie are quite high," I said.

"Right, and the acting is very well done, also. Vince Mola plays George with all the right angst, and Jamil A.C. Mangan does a solid performance as the comic-drawing Julian, reluctantly helping George, and dealing with that creepy abandoned house."

"Speaking of that house," I said, "the extras on the DVD include a segment on filming in the house. It was indeed a creepy place, and I got  chills watching the segment last night. They were lucky to find it: it had an effective dark character, and the debris in it was disgustingly real. Quite a demented provenance, to be sure. Cinematography did a skillful job of lighting it all, especially the basement. How they flooded the basement, or made it look like it was completely flooded, is fascinating. I am always amazed at how resourceful indie production crews can be with small budgets, but lots of talent."

"I found the director's commentary very informative," said Zombos. "Lance does a wonderful job of explaining his rationale for the setups, and adds technical information that only an indie director would do. I look forward to his next endeavor."

"Indeed," I said. "I'm just not sure if I would classify this film as horror, though."

"Psychological thriller, then. It is simply a very good film, well-scripted and directed, with on-the-money performances and solid cinematography. And production values that are top-notch," added Zombos.

 

Interview: Angel's Blade Actor Jeb Toms

In the upcoming film, Angel's Blade (2008) a young girl is possessed by Mayan spirits. When she dies, the spirits live on, haunting a lonely stretch of road. A man finds that the spirits are responsible for the death of his wife. Unfortunately, the spirits have followed him home - and are now after his young son's soul. Actor Jeb Toms steps into the closet to talk about himself and his role in Angel's Blade.

Interview: Closet Space's Mel House

Any movie with the word "closet" in the title holds a special place in our hearts. And Mel House, director of Closet Space, was kind enough to invite us into his closet to chat about his upcoming film.

What's Closet Space about and why should horrorheads see it?

Closet Space centers on five graduate students searching for their missing professor. At first they have no idea where the guy went to - he's just gone. When the students get out to the "site" (which is a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere), they discover a door that opens up onto a seemingly endless, lightless pocket dimension. The laws of nature and physics are merely the first layers to be peeled back and discarded as the group continues their inexhaustible search for their mentor—which leads them deep inside the ‘Closet Space.’ But…there are things that live inside the vast emptiness. Horrible, hungry things. With tentacles.

First of all, I think horror aficionados should check out Closet Space because I think we succeeded in making a dark and gruesome picture.  Too often these days you see people making horror flicks just to "cash in" or whatever, because the genre is a proven moneymaker. 

The people involved in Closet Space actually love the genre. It's not a joke to us. We are in this for the long haul. In addition, what we tried to do with Closet Space was make a low-budget horror movie...without all the trappings of low-budget horror moviemaking that you see so often these days. Every new horror flick on the shelves seems to be some 10th-generation slasher rip on Scream, or worse yet, a horror-comedy. Then, if you're suckered into a rental by some (probably misleading) box art, you get little to no delivery on the special effects front. Compounding that, what little FX gags you do get treated to are really, really bad CGI. Fortunately, just about all of our special FX on Closet Space were done practically (by the extremely talented guys at Oddtopsy FX), and what little digital stuff we have is being handled by Visual Odyssee, who are masters of their game.

Interview: LovecraCKed's Elias Talks

Biff Juggernaut Production's Elias steps into the closet to talk about himself and about his film, LovecraCKed! The Movie. Taking nine aspiring and very independent directors, combining them with a loose theme of Lovecraftian shenanigans, and looping it together with a slightly unpolished reporter just trying to do a story can be quite a challenge.

What turned you on to the horror scene?

When I was a teenager I got a job at a movie theater where I became friends with an extremely talented fellow by the name of Chad Bernhard who is also the frontman for the band, THINGS OUTSIDE THE SKIN, and a frequent collaborator on BiFF JUGGERNAUT productions. He also was and continues to be a raving horror nut, and he introduced me to the likes of Carpenter, Raimi, Jackson, and Romero to name a few. It didn't take long before I was completely suckered in.

Which horror films are your favorites and why?

"Dead Alive", "Dawn of the Dead" ('78), "The Fly" ('86), "The Thing" ('82), "The Haunting" ('63), "Audition", "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" ('74), "Twitch of the Death Nerve"... Those are a few that come to mind.

Dead Alive” is just a wonderfully entertaining film that never seems to grow old for me. The orchestration of that flick is just flawless and often mind boggling. It’s really amazing what Jackson did with such a low budget. No one else can make films on such a large scale with such a low budget so effectively, and he’s incredibly versatile, a true master of his medium who’s always expanding.

Romero's “Dawn of the Dead” is my favorite of that series so far. Such a great setup with such strong characters and underlying social commentary. Cronenberg's “Fly” chronicles a kind of social and human disintegration, the pursuit of knowledge to find only destruction, despair and madness.

The setting and setup of Carpenter's "The Thing" make for great conflict and suspense, and this combined with a great ensemble cast and some of the coolest special fx ever put to film make for an extremely memorable experience. Robert Wise's orginal "Haunting" for me is all about atmosphere and doing more with less.

The only films I think have ever come close to capturing the eerie otherworldly suspense generated by that flick are "The Woman in Black" and "The Mothman Prophecies" and "The Exorcism of Emily Rose" - all great flicks in my opinion. Miike's Audition lured me in and left me with a lasting feeling of dread after viewing it, and few films have ever done that.

The “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” - need I say more? For me, it still remains one of the most effective and chilling horror films ever made. Love the atmosphere of that film... the sounds, the claustrophobic, deathlike feeling of that house... extremely creepy.

I like how they build slowly up to Leatherface and then you have that unforgettable intro... and the run through the woods... that whole f**ked up family slowly revealed to us... Yes I am a big fan of that flick! I can't say the remake retained many of the qualities that made the original so strong, it really fell short by a lot, to say the least. Perhaps the prequel will be a step up, but I'm not holding my breath.

I've nothing against remakes, but it’s a shame when they get churned out without any real finesse or vision. But then that's just the studios trying to cash in, so its nothing one shouldn't expect in the end. I'll keep looking out for the few that always set themselves apart. Lastly, "Twitch of the Death Nerve" from the master Mario Bava. The prototype for the modern slasher film wrapped in the inky black cloak of Giallo. Brutal deaths, masterful cinematography, mystery, suspense, and a wicked ending. Also love Bava's little seen, posthumously completed "Rabid Dogs".

Speaking of directors, which directors influence you the most?

I'd say David Cronenberg, Peter Jackson, Kim Ki-Duk, Takashi Miike and Shinya Tsukamoto, Michael Haeneke, the boys of "Monty Python" and the boys of "South Park". It's hard to say exactly how they influence, but they all have had their impact, and continue to do so.

Certainly the sense of humor of "Monty Python" and "South Park" is very much akin to my own, and I take great inspiration in the style and scope of their satire. With the other filmmakers it's similar. I find fascination with the subjects they cover and how they each tell the story and communicate their ideas to the audience. Seeing all these various visions realized and feeling their effect on me as a viewer and a creative expressive person myself provides me with inspiration and helps fuel and drive my own ideas, thoughts, creations. They all help to set the stage for the next generation and they have set the bar high.

What is it like to conceive, produce, and promote an independent film?

Firstly let me just say that it's one of the most incredibly euphoric, miserable rewarding, mind-numbing, inspiring, physically exhausting, energizing and exciting things I can think of. Perhaps it's a little like having a baby and then raising it (at least I imagine so;), though on a generally smaller scale of time. It's exhausting, painful and unbelievably fulfilling. You live with this developing film in your head for months and months, writing it out and getting others points of view. You settle on a draft of the script and try to prepare adequately for the production through rigorous task of pre-production planning, and then finally free yourself from this and make a go for it with Production.

On set, on location with what little crew you have, trying to let the script/story guide you and not the other way around. Every inch is often a battle of stamina, will and mind over little finance. You learn to compromise when you have to, and try to know when it's the right time to do so, and when it's not. You have to hook into your actors and crew and let the thoughts and ideas flow between everyone, and then get everyone (yourself included) on the same path to the same vision.

You finally wrap and enter the realm of postproduction where films are ruined and reinvented... and you sort it out with feedback from others not so entrenched in the process. You enter the promotional state and realize with a shock (if it's your first time) that you have entered a realm from which your primitive creative-minded brain desperately wants to escape from.

Nevertheless, you chain unwilling brain to the task at hand and set forth to spread the word of your film through every outlet available to you again and again and again... Then finally when you've given it your best, you let the flick go and float on its own, and then you start the next project.

How did you get your start in the film business?

I started out acting and writing when I was a teenager and expanded into filmmaking when I was 19. I moved to NY a couple times: first to pursue acting and later to study film at the School of Visual Arts, where I graduated in 2000. That's the boring answer.

I got started ultimately because of a strong desire to express myself and in turn bring about reactions from others. To make people think, laugh, cry, shriek, gasp, giggle, and feel queezy! To fill brains with all sorts of buzzing and zapping sensations! Thanks for listening - and for watching, too! Thanks to Zombos Closet of Horror Blog for the forum and for all their support of independent horror! (ZC Note: thank you, it's our pleasure, and that of our readers.)

What is it about Lovecraft's work that inspired you to do LovecraCKed?

I've admired Lovecraft's stories for many years. I'd planned to do a feature adaptation of one of them a few years back, but that fell through. The running doc/spoof narrative of "LovecraCked! The Movie" was inspired by the fact that hardly anyone I ever spoke to about Lovecraft ever knew who he was unless they were a genre fan. The average person usually had never heard of him.

Considering this and all the influence he's had on modern day horror film and fiction, it seemed like a subject ripe for parody. Later, after most of the doc/spoof was shot, I decided to expand the whole project into a feature length anthology, and open it up to other filmmakers.

Nine directors were involved, each directing their segment of LovecraCKed. What were the challenges you faced, both as writer and overall director for your film, when working with such diverse talent?

The 9 segments/shorts were all created independently of one another by different filmmakers. I was not involved directly in these productions. My main task was the selection and organization of the films for the anthology, and in a few instances, some editing as well. The big challenge was to find the films and filmmakers and assemble an anthology that worked as well as possible.

What production challenges did you face in bringing LovecraCKed to completion?

Really just putting together the whole project and seeing it through to completion. I spent an unhealthy amount of time hunched over my keyboard typing madly and sleepily! Obtaining the necessary releases, and making a lot of format conversions also took some time.

There were many little details to deal with, none of which are likely very interesting, but extremely time consuming and brain-mashing nonetheless. Promoting the film has also been a lot of work - probably as much as putting it all together… and I’m still promoting as we speak! I’ve become a movie whore, I tell you!!!

What future projects are you working on?

Well promoting this one is taking up most of my time right now, but I have plans to participate in another anthology project, which is being put together by one of the other filmmakers, Justin Powers. I also have an extra incomplete segment that I shot for “LovecraCked! The Movie” as a backup, which is crying out to be included in an extended edition of the flick. I’d like to get rolling on a new feature soon as well, it’s just a matter of what fits best financially, creatively, etc.

Movie Review: The Last Broadcast (1998)

Zombos Says: Very Good

Is the following fact or fiction? Two young movie makers use a desktop PC and less than nine hundred dollars to produce the first all-digital documentary-styled horror film in 1998?

It's fact. A few months before The Blair Witch Project brought documentary style horror to the forefront, The Last Broadcast presented a chilling account of three bloody murders that happened one cold night in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. Beginning as a fictitious documentary about the Jersey Devil Murders using salvaged video footage, interviews, and police evidence, the film's twist ending reveals the real murderer--or does it?

Using Photoshop to enhance scenes, consumer-grade video recorders, and lots of post-production doctoring on a desktop PC, Stefan Avalos and Lance Weiler digitally composed their thriller using mostly non-actors, Weiler's mom, and anything not nailed down. The final product is an eerie, slow-building, story that takes a sudden left turn to reveal the true murderer. According to the audio commentary on the DVD, seven clues are in the film pointing to the murderer. I missed all seven.

Technology plays an important part within the film itself, first as visual and auditory information is manipulated to create the pseudo-documentary structure of the film, and then as impetus for the events within it.

The film begins as a probing documentary by director David Leigh (played with aplomb by David Beard), who asks the question, "Did Jim Suerd commit the murders?" The profile of Suerd--troubled childhood, a loner, and computer nerd fascinated by the Internet and magic tricks--points to an unstable individual who may be capable of cold-blooded murder. But the film leaves you wondering who the documentary was really about.

Fact or Fiction is a public-access cable show hosted by two it's-always-Saturday hosts (think Wayne's World here)--Avkast and Wheeler, who are searching for a way to keep their show on the air (although they do sell a lot of t-shirts). Initially a kitschy hit about two slackers discussing weird stuff, the topics are getting stale and its popularity is waning.

Looking for any hook to bring back viewers, the hosts turn to Internet Relay Chat so viewers can send suggestions for what the show should investigate next. One suggestion, to do a live show from the Pine Barrens of Southern New Jersey in search of the Jersey Devil, the legendary creature who inspired the name of the New Jersey Devils ice hockey team, intrigues the show's hosts, and soon has them assembling a crew to investigate.

The crew is comprised of Jim Suerd, a fan of the show and self-professed psychic, and Rein Clackin, audio technician. Suerd is the odd one--oddest one--of the bunch. He's not quite fully in the here and now. Avkast and Wheeler use him as a psychic bloodhound to lead them deep into the woods of the Pine Barrens in search of the best spot to see the Jersey Devil.

As the documentary unfolds, a reenactment of the trip is shown using video footage shot by Avkast and Wheeler: they recruit the team members and focus on Suerd, who goes into a psychic fit. As the team assembles and preparations are made, the documentary moves to the fifteen hours of recovered footage from the ill-fated night in the woods. In the now familiar cinema verite style of shaky close-ups, scene ambiguity, and quick-cut action snippets, Avkast, Wheeler, Suerd and Clackin are shown trying to find a suitable location for camp, bitching about this or that, and suddenly finding they are not alone in the very cold, very dark Pine Barrens.

Enough is shown or intimated to give you a nice creepy feeling. Throughout it all, director David Leigh's stoic voice intones the police evidence for arresting and convicting Suerd, the lone survivor, then asks questions about the assumed guilt of Jim Suerd. Just when you think the answers are going to remain unclear, the film shifts from documentary perspective to third-person, and follows the restoration of a critical piece of video that may show the killer's face, and the dedicated forensic video technician working to make it happen. The denouement leaves no doubt as to who the killer is. In a sudden and very brutal scene the killer is revealed.

What stands out are the performances by the non-actors involved, especially Weiler's mom. They do a credible job creating an air of authenticity for the documentary. The slow pacing is mitigated by the interesting characters, their backstories, and the shift from the documentary investigating Suerd to the reenactment of the trip, then to the recovered video footage. The twist ending, in both its shift in perspective and sudden revelation, is a bold move. The final scene returns us to the Pine Barrens and leaves you with uncertainty and bewilderment. The Last Broadcast is a worthy entry in the cinema of horror.

The Heretic DVD:

Three short featurettes stand out in particular: the Pre-production, Post-production, and Distribution discussions by Avalos and Weiler are lively and enlightening. In Pre-production, they talk about their discovery of the actor to play Suerd (Jim Seward) in the aisle of a video store, and how they lighted scenes using Chinese Lanterns to create a soft light that could be manipulated according to the wattage used. In Post-production, they discuss their extensive use of Photoshop to add gore effects to scenes, and how they composed the various police evidence used in the documentary on their PC. In Distribution, a very interesting discussion of how they fought to remain purely digital presages the current state of digital film distribution.

Two audio commentaries, one from 1998 and another for this release add to a well thought out presentation, as well as an entertaining mini-comic.