Goodbye to the Great Pumpkin King

Was it good for you? I hope so, but ten popcorn balls says my Halloween was the best ever! It was actually life changing: I now officially heart New Jersey as it's home to Chiller Theater, a bat sanctuary, and fantastic people that have incredible weddings. 

As expected, our Clueful costumes were a hit. Dear friends/foes Erica and Lisa dazzled as those saucy sirens, Mrs. White and Ms. Scarlett. My Mrs. Peacock was simply divine in a gold lamme top (Burlington), horrendously mustardly flowered blouse (Filene's Basement), and shimmering A-line skirt brought to you by the Gap, Joanne’s Fabrics, Erica’s handiwork, and sticks of hot glue. It held up through gleeful Monster Mash-ing and uncoordinated Electric Sliding, plus countless queries by party guests about where our Colonel Mustard was.

Are we missing something? When did Martin Mull’s military murderer become the most beloved Clue character? Isn’t it more fun to say “Professor Plum?”

Anyway, that was my official Halloween. Sunday was spent at Chiller Theatre, a gigantic horror convention held in Parsippany, NJ, and perhaps the first one I’ve ever attended that was not being trolled by the scowl of Tom Savini. Fun was had, and my highlights are as follows:

-Buying a DVD of Frogenstein, a collection of a few Muppet meetups with horror icons such as Vincent Price

-Touching my cheek to Davy Jones for a photo op that made me swoon. He’s very tan, very sing songy, and still very damn adorable

-Narrowing my eyes at Richard Dreyfuss when he walked through the line I was waiting on without saying excuse me

-Chatting with the Brothers Hodder about disco, Davy Jones’ fans, and Hatchet 2. Apparently those are the kinds of questions I should have been asking at our “interview” last month

-hearing Louise Robey, the flame-haired lead on Friday the 13th: the Series, belt out a few notes to an adoring fan. It was weird.

-Having a very interesting conversation with artist Roger Kastel, the artist who designed such iconic posters as Jaws and The Empire Strikes Back. He had a wonderful attitude about his work and seemed to genuinely enjoy discussing his process

-Discovering that every single female that once posed nude has either the world's best stylish, plastic surgeon, or blood supply from virgins to maintain healthy glows. Also, most actresses that have ever appeared in genre films are so tiny, they make Dreyfuss look only slightly shorter than average height

We closed out the weekend of amazingness with an evening trip to see Saw VI, which I’ll review this week (hopefully) as soon as I find the power to harness any remaining energy bestowed upon me by discounted fun-size bars.

It’s been a beautiful October and I’m sadder than a fat kid with a dropped ice cream cone that it’s over. Dearest horror bloggers and readers, I pose this question: How can we make November a worthy, or mildly not-too-much-of-a-letdown followup?

There just aren’t enough films about killer turkeys, pilgrims, or the voting public. Deep sigh, silenced by an early round of stuffing laced with candy corn.

Rock That Shock

Ahhhhh, conventions. If ever there was a playground for the kids that usually hid under bleachers during recess to play in, these would be it. This past Sunday, my dear friend Erica and I crashed Massachusetts’ Rock & Shock for some celebrity spotting, obscure DVD shopping, and confidence boosting due to the generous population of people less attractive and socially skilled than myself. Highlights included:

-Sharing NY bagels with Bill, Chris, and Mel of Outside the Cinema 


-Coming off like a giddy fangirl, then reining it in to have a genuine conversation with Jack Ketchum. The man who, in the past year, has pretty much become my favorite author was quite gracious and amiable about discussing his work and I’m supremely excited to read his latest collection of short stories, Closing Time. This anthology contains a few stories that appeared in a book I often rave about, Peaceable Kingdom, which is currently out of print. I'm thrilled to have these stories back and even more excited to read some new ones.

-Pitching new film projects for the awesomely good-humored Corbin Bernsen to tackle. Since The Dentist sequels are tied up in rights issues, Erica and I suggested the former Roger Dorn take on other professions in the medical field, such as The Orthodontist, The Chiropractor, The Podiatrist and The Proctologist

-Discovering that Malcolm McDowell sports a mean ascot

-Picking up a trio of DVDs: one I truly love (Tourist Trap), one I’ve been waiting for with great expectations (UK’s Dead Set) and one that will probably be awful, but having read the short story, could not be resisted by me (Rawhead Rex)

-Observing the fact that Tom Savini’s son is quite possibly the antichrist. This may be a cruel statement to make about a 6 year old, but the boy was literally sitting inside a garbage can and pointing to another which read “Photos: $3.” This was apparently following the sugar rush the day before, wherein I’ve been told the kid spent most of the afternoon stealing candy from the OTC table

-Chatting with the Crypt Keeper himself, Mr. John Kassir, who seemed genuinely (and deservedly) proud of his work on one of my favorite television shows of all time and shared some interesting tidbits about how the writers adjusted the character over time to suit his clever interpretation

-Being told that Jesus loved me by Jason Mewes, who was very sweet when he had to leave the show a tad early to smoke a cigarette

-”Interviewing” the one and only Kane Hodder for OTC, a 5 minute or so clip wherein I asked Jason VI-X what he learned from taking Manhattan and if he’d ever lost a fight to a short man. The recording should be available through OTC’s feed soon, so Terry Gross has a little time to up her game before I zoom in to seize her headphones. Note this will be done by brute physical force and not interviewing skills because on that front, I’m about as talented as Arsenio Hall. Still, enjoy the sound bites and the sound of me trying to figure out how to hold a microphone.

Overall, we had a blast and I send a giant round of thanks to Erica for driving and being such a hot date, Bill, Chris, and Mel for being such awesome company, and the Rock and Shock show for doing it right. Also, I’ll thank the tanks of tarantulas ($20 each, if you’re interested) simply to not make them angry at me should they ever escape. We’ll be hitting Jersey’s Chiller Theater up for Halloween weekend (in between a costume themed wedding and profuse candy corn consumption) so hopefully there’ll be another round of random conventionness in another two weeks. 

The world is truly a beautiful place.

Fangoria Friday

Kane Hodder=Rock Star





The taller man is Jason VII-X's slightly larger brother, who seems equally awesome. Framed between is my lovely friend Erica, who wow'd the Bros. Voohrees with her eyes. I'm the squished little head on the right being lovingly squeezed by an arm that has once crunched through many a promiscuous teen.


Other events of note: buying too many movies (including, finally, the 2-disc Battle Royale (although the salesman didn't know if there was a question mark following the death of a certain female character, so I'm hoping I got the non-terribly subtitled version), a few movie posters (The Ewok Adventure II: The Battle For Endor--in Italian!!!), and some random gifts for those parts of the family that might appreciate them. I don't know if Fango is bigger in other locations, but the NYC Javitz Center was so large that it felt a tad empty. In a way, this made mingling a little easier, although I do feel for Guillermo Del Toro speaking to a quarter-filled room way too early on a Friday night. A few Last House on the Left cast members gave an enjoyable panel and Tom Savini did his usual moody Saviniscious convention kick (which involved playfully messing a little with Hodder's table then scooting away when a fan had to reload his camera).


I chatted a little with the lovely Robin Sherwood of Tourist Trap, the vocal George Kosana and John Russo, who both had their Night of the Living Dead trivia to impart (Kosana was quite insistent about taking credit for improvising Night's most famous line, "They're dead, they're all messed up"), and filmmaker David Gregory, whose new film Plague Town, will be reviewed here shortly.


The biggest tragedy of the weekend? I won't get to see Jack Ketchum's panel on Offspring due to other commitments. Should my cable guy come early on Sunday and not drag me to a drumstick feast at Medieval Times, I may flirt with the idea of a Sunday visit, but that's looking less and less likely (the Fangoria part; I'm still holding out for a Jim Carrey-esque adventure with Cablevision's installation crew). I do urge anyone in the area to check it out. Tickets are $20, and the floor was loose enough that you could wander and chat with a few notable names without feeling compelled to fork out another $20 for an autograph.


And if you do find your way to the way too clean basement on the West Side of Manhattan, tell Mr. & Mr. Hodder that the ladies with firm handshakes say hey. But do it in a sexy voice.