by Alexxus Young

MONSTERMANIA 2003: HAMMER HONEYS, KILLER KLOWNS, CREATURE COMFORTS

This year's string of conventions prompted yours truly to slip into a terminal lapse of boredom. Same ol' guests, dealer's rooms that are little more than a Spencer's garage sale, patrons listlessly wandering around. The doc advised me to "Go North," and I listened to his counsel: recruited as one of the guests at the MonsterMania conclave (Cherry Hill, NJ), I had a blast.

My manager had advised me that "The women of Hammer Films are all about class," and nobody personified class more than the attendant legion of femmes fatales: I was personally introduced to Brit veterans Caroline Munro (CAPTAIN KRONOS-VAMPIRE HUNTER) and Veronica Carlson (DRACULA HAS RISEN FROM THE GRAVE), both of whom not only sustain a dignity that has faded since the decline of Hammer but a very viable sex appeal.

Alexxus and Caroline Munro in hosting attire!

Contrary to the tempestuous image that she projected as the scantily-clad model for Lamb's Navy Rum, Caroline kindles a provincial, genuine warmth (my manager traditionally sends her family a Christmas tree ornament as a Holiday gift; when queried about her preference for this year's ornament, Caroline hinted that her children "are big fans of The Simpsons!").

Veronica, who irradiated U.K. cheesecake with bikini poses, is a sterling artist (prompted by a mutual friend, Veronica flattered my manager by sketching him. "I'm unworthy of this privilege," he admitted. "After all, I've got a one-hour photo face."). By the way, Veronica wields a wicked sense of humor (will elaborate in a subsequent column). While both ladies are fondly recounted as Hammer hotties, they routinely showed more acting chops than cleavage: sample Caroline's performance in DRACULA A.D. 1972 and Veronica in FRANKENSTEIN MUST BE DESTROYED. While the alliance with Hammer is historic, their dramatic aptitude is a critical component of the legacy. (Footnote: I certainly don't intend to trivialize the contributions of the other Hammer icons in attendance, i.e. Yvonne Monlaur, Suzanna Leigh and Hazel Court. I only wish that I were afforded the time for a visit to each of these beautiful femmes).

I was reunited with my 'ole pal Ben Chapman, who acquainted me with his CREATURE OF BLACK LAGOON co-star, Julia Adams (at 77, she invokes the sexy charisma of her tryst with the Gill Man). Ben and Julia were still glowing from an L.A. engagement of BLACK LAGOON, which was reissued in its original 3-D optical process. "It was Standing Room Only," grinned Ben. "Crowds had to be turned away." Julia and Ben graciously autographed the base of my CREATURE bust (sculpted by Tom Savini, it weighs-in at approx. 80 pounds). Ben recounted to Julia that I massaged his aching back in an Ohio hotel lobby while celebs and Frightvision staff congregated for some nostalgic conversation. He also alluded to the fact that I poured him tall ones all night!

Doug Bradley and Alexxus

The guest roster also included my compatriot Doug Bradley, in addition to Mark Goddard, artist Mark Wheatley, Linnea Quigley and TV vet Betsy Palmer (FRIDAY slummers have pigeonholed Betsy as "Mrs. Voorhees," completely neglecting her past roles in MR. ROBERTS and the '53 Goodyear teleplay, MARTY).

During a Sunday break, I hung with the Chiodo Brothers: their KILLER KLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE, the definitive cult classic, economized on everything exempting talent. The guys recounted one of their scripts was rejected by studio brass because, according to one suit, "horror and comedy are [an unprofitable] combination." Echoing a query from genre addicts, I inquired about the post-KLOWNS activity of Suzanne Snyder, the film's vivacious star: and, not unlike corporate Hollywood, the Chiodos admitted that they were clueless.

I also enjoyed the fraternity with Joe Bob Briggs, Virginia Hey (we had a pretty intense conversation about women's roles), comic book illustrator Derek Rook, the congenial creators of the Living Dead Dolls (the toy industry's politically incorrect sleeper hit), Carpathian and the very supercool Don Reese.

Saturday night concluded with some serious partying; the guys from "Rue Morgue" magazine, Jody and Greg, catered good booze and some variable imitations of Al Pacino (most popular tag line: "Say hello to my little friend!" In retrospect, this may be the worst pickup line in history). But what was up with Kane Hodder? Dude, your "Jason" alter ego is more about hardware than histrionics, so what's with the attitude?

Finally, the dealer's room was a mixed bag of antiquated film posters and merchandising tie-ins that will not soon surface at a Suncoast near you (including the debut of a provocative "Dorothy" figure-we're talkin' the"undressed thong version"-from McFarlane's "Twisted Land of Oz" franchise. It's a Sadian hybrid of Robert Maplethorpe and John Willie! You'd better organize a scavenger hunt for this elusive toy).

Congratulations to the MonsterMania coterie for assembling a decidedly non-generic convention. Tap into www.monstermania.net for updates on the 2004 installation.

TOOLBOX MURDERS, BIKINIS, BOGEYMEN, BUSTS & SEXIEST STATUES

Producer Tony DiDio called with developments on the remake of his '78 release, THE TOOLBOX MURDERS. Directed by Tobe Hooper, the cast includes Juliet Landau (BUFFY's "Drusilla") and Angela Bettis (who played the title role in the CARRIE remake). Predictably, the film's violent content prompted the MPAA to brand an initial edit with an "X": though cuts were compromised for a more commercial R-rating, Tony gleefully acknowledged that deleted scenes will be restored on the eventual DVD release. So does he feel the heat of competitive genre films? "TOOLBOX MURDERS will look like GONE WITH THE WIND compared to CABIN FEVER," Tony laughed. Evidently, he shares the same sentiments of ReallyScary readers who admitted similar disappointment: CABIN FEVER was about as scary as an octogenarian Monopoly tournament.

Mark Redfield scotched on viscera for his own adaptation of DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. But entrails will spatter, sans constraint, in CHAINSAW SALLY: Redfield co-scripted the scenario about a chick who chops rustic chumps (one bimbo is force-fed sulphuric acid; pretty timid compared to more unbridled sadism, like being forced to watch another Ashton Kutcher movie). Cast includes Gunnar Hansen and genre vet George Stover (DRACULA'S WIDOW, ATTACK OF THE 60-FOOT CENTERFOLD). Watch for cameos by yours truly and Herschell G. Lewis (apparently, this flick is homage to Lewis' goreburger gastrology).

There's more modern Grand Guignol in FLESH FOR THE BEAST, about a crack team of ghostbusters who sink into "the bowels of hell." Producer Carl Morano has applied a nice polish to this "haunted bordello" movie (he also cut a cool trailer, with supplementary goodies, that's on par with Hollywood product). Cast includes fetching redhead Ruby La Rocca (often a supporting player in vehicles tailored for underground goddess Misty Mundae) and fetish femme Barbara Joyce (EATEN ALIVE, THE GO-GO STRANGLER). Check-out www.fleshforthebeast.com

Back in 1962, Ambrose Bierce's "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" was adapted into an Oscar-winning "Best Short Film" by director Robert Enrico (it was subsequently broadcast on THE TWILIGHT ZONE as a "special segment"). Filmmaker Tony Sinclair is translating Bierce's vignette into one of a compendium of episodic stories for THE LOCKET.

Bierce's popularity as a scribe is partially attributable to his ghost and horror stories, though Sinclair's movie strays from the supernatural. "'Owl Creek Bridge' appealed to me mainly because of its unusual ending," explained the producer/director from a Mojave Desert locale. "I realized that it could be adapted to almost any script. As most moviemakers and scriptwriters know, the hardest part of the storyline is to find an ending. Once you have an ending, the rest comes easy."

Opting for the mainstream, Sinclair has abandoned his career as a producer of California Star's B&D videos: "The fetish movies would give me a chance to be creative without worrying that I may screw it up, and consequently owing thousands of dollars to my investors. Adult movies always sell no matter how much one screws up. So I had the freedom to play with sets, costumes, lighting and sound."

No doubt about it, curvy Caroline Munro (see above, first paragraph) sustains crossover appeal. Her presence has added luster to fantasy (THE GOLDEN VOYAGE OF SINBAD), sci-fi (STARCRASH) and Hammer horror. Cast as Naomi in THE SPY WHO LOVED ME, she was also the juiciest of James Bond babes (male audiences very audibly gasped when Caroline, clad in a brief bikini, made her screen entrance). Encouraged by Caroline's approval, sculptor David Brown (aka Brownie) volunteered to mold a resin statue of the actress, replicating her alter ego as 007's pepper-hot predator (bikini intact). Pending upon Caroline's acquiescence, the statue will be available only in a limited edition. We'll keep you posted!

During a break on a movie set or film convention seminar, I impulsively pass around photos of my toy collection, i.e. merchandise tied into a movie or TV franchise. I suspect that Tracy M. Lee can relate to my obsession. A self-professed "toy geek," Tracy is also a 13-year veteran of Disney animation (credits include BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, ALADDIN, et al). A few years ago, Tracy founded Electric Tiki and started development of his own commerce, i.e. "fantasy statues," aka maquettes, of TV sitcom icons (Samantha and Serena/BEWITCHED, Jeannie/I DREAM OF JEANNIE, Peggy Bundy/MARRIED WITH CHILDREN, et al) and Harvey Toons (Hot Stuff, Wendy the Witch, et al).

The JEANNIE maquette sets the standard for Tracy's TV homage: circumventing just another precision-perfect doppleganger of a TV star, Tracy suffuses the statue with not only an engaging likeness of Barbara Eden but a perky personality.

The same sort of panache is applied to his sci-fi siren, Holly Starlite. An original creation, Holly channels a hybrid of Tex Avery's naughty Red Riding Hood, aka "The Girl," and Max Fleischer's matriarchal Honey Bee (though the heat is turned-up on the invocation of the latter). Cracking the Boys's Club (why is sci-fi so male territorial?), Holly looks pretty damn hot in her abbreviated costume (crimson-colored boots and gloves, white bikini top and matching thong, cape). Other characters on the Electric Tiki boards include Elvira and HAZZARD honey, Daisy Duke. I suggest that collectors tap into www.electrictiki.com and ya better press the pedal to the metal: each maquette is produced in an extremely limited edition (anywhere from only 1500 to 250 units), and artist's proofs are in even shorter supply. By the way, each statue is exquisitely painted - it's the labor of a fellow toy collector who is truly impassioned with his work.

It's a bit early to be more specific, but bet the farm my favorite 2003 statue - adapted from a comic book - will likely be Dynamic Force's "Witchblade." Designed by Marc Silvestri, the comic's co-creator, this 12" babe really cooks. Clad in boa-constrictive jeans and Lilliputian breast metal-trimming, this femme fatale is poised to kick ass: the seductive surfeit of skin doesn't stress vulnerability but vindication (check-out the facial expression: she's lookin' for something, and it sure as hell ain't a suntan).

Silvestri, unlike his competitors, doesn't deny the heroine a hardbody nor does he hypocritically camouflage her physical appeal: buttressed with strength and a libertine 'tude -visibly communicated in the sculpture - Witchblade's deficient wardrobe is not another slick costume, but her declaration of independence. The paint job reinforces this allegiance to character, from the trademark silver appendage (her right limb) to the mane of hair cascading down her bosom. The statue, limited to 1200 units, is available in "two versions" (the "regular" emerald or optional silver base). Check it out: www.dynamicforces.com. Be sure to stick around for a perusal of the Black Cat bust (meeowww-I gotta add that one to my mantle).

This month's DVD summary

DAY OF THE DEAD has made the transition to DVD, courtesy of Anchor Bay's archive. First, the bad news: exempting an apocalyptic opening scene, the film's exposition drones-on indefinitely. Undeveloped characters, who scream their dialogue, erode into '80s chesnuts (Military=misogyny/trigger-happy anarchy. Surviving woman=near-canonization/super feminist). George Romero belabors the message (flesh-eating zombies are more sympathetic than their human counterparts). The good news is that Anchor Bay applies its usual finesse to the film's preservation. Even better news: the addendums, including behind-the-scenes chronicles and a "comic" theatrical trailer (mingling within a movie theatre, zombies annoy an audience of DAY patrons).

IDENTITY is likely my favorite film of the year. Unlike this summer's trade, pumped with inflated budgets, this whodunit was comparatively produced on a tip for a Hollywood power lunch. Convening in a sleazy motel (cue the thunder and lightning), a coterie of red herrings are murdered one-by-one, "Ten Little Indians"-style until the surprise denouement. James Mangold deftly directs the dynamic ensemble of actors (Ray Liotta, Clea DuVall, John Cusack, et al). The biggest mystery is the source of the screenplay (Michael Cooney? Are we talkin' the same guy who cranked-out cheeseballs like JACK FROST and its sequel? Holy crap!)

Kudos to Amanda Peet, an underrated actress, who doesn't yield to another "ice queen" role. IDENTITY is one of the most entertaining B-films, released by corporate Hollywood, since CHARLIE CHAN AT TREASURE ISLAND. The DVD (Columbia Pictures) bonuses include an alternate ending.

SNAKE ISLAND is, hands down, the worst film of the year. Tourists, stuck on a tropical isle, are bedeviled by environmentally pissed serpents (yeah, the same scenario as FROGS). The reptiles, recurrently surfacing as lame stock footage or limp cutaway shots, are about as intimidating as garden hoses at a K-Mart sale. In a dream sequence, an uncoiled snake (i.e. a pipe cleaner from a kid's poverty puppet show) sings to the heroine; in another scene, snakes (via forward-reverse editing) dance to boom box music. Nothing surreal here, someone should just hide the scriptwriter's crack pipe. Winner for the most gratuitous T&A (thirtysomething ingenues do the "Girls Gone Wild" routine, and it ain't pretty). Winner for the worst imitation of THE BIRDS (Play-doh turds invade the cabin quarters of slumming actors). Winner of The Ritz Bros. Award for Best Sight Gag (a wife confuses a snake, concealed in her husband's groin, as an erection. She doesn't realize, of course, that her hubby is dead). Special bonus: your remote's "eject" button.

My time's almost up. In closing, Spike-TV rocks (EXTREME ELIMINATION CHALLENGE is the funniest Anglicized dub since WHAT'S UP TIGER LILY. One episode's karaoke competition is classic TV)...Tom Green sucks (enough butt-kissing on his deep-sixed MTV talk show to warrant a lifetime supply of Chapstick). Next time, I'll shamelessly plug my gig as hostess for an expanded horror/sci-fi web site (one of the producers is a three-time Emmy award-winner), which will spawn a magazine in early '04. Let's convene here next month; until then, tap into my web site at www.scifidiva.com