The nuns always used to scare Big Gay Horror Fan as a kid. The nuns – and Amish women. And, yes, smart asses, there is a difference. But, now it looks like I should have really been running from a different source of religiosity. Author-director-actress Lia Scott Price has created a new kind of horror being with a deliciously demented take on guardian angels. Her website is chock full of links to free stories and videos filled with the emotional angst and devious doings of those long regarded as supreme protectors and is worth a scabrous halo’s worth of your time @ www.liascottprice.com.

Deliciously demented writer-producer Tammy Dupal, meanwhile, envisions a gut ripping fate for a chronic cell phone user in Twisted Central’s first video short X Marks the Spot. Accented by Deann Baker’s truly creep inducing score and surprisingly professional performances, particularly from Melissa Revels as the sweetly sassy Chloe and the absolutely pulse raising (yet strangely sexy) Ty Yeager, this short is a step above the norm in execution and leaves viewers imagining the same horrific fate for their favorite app obsessed companions. Check it @: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2HcIc4gCvo&feature=youtu.be.

Meanwhile, outrageously provocative filmmaker Kevin Strange has turned to the written word as his latest creative outlet. His original chapbook The Planet Backwards Plays One Last Gig is a juicily well written look at what happens when one down and out band misinterprets a spookily shared dream and helps bring about a monster licked apocalypse. Inspired by the writings of Lovecraft while retaining a hardcore uniqueness, this fast read is hedonistically bloody yet full of compassionate heart. Despite their overriding foibles, Strange’s characters have a loveable glow about them and you follow them, joyfully, from one glisteningly strewn body part to another.

Be sure to keep up with Strange and his deliciously chunk strewn world at http://www.facebook.com/pages/StrangeHouse/306023866090135?sk=wall.

Echoing Strange’s footsteps, a bevy of twisted n talented playwrights will be competing for 2011’s Bloody Axe at Wildclaw Theatre’s annual Deathscribe contest on Monday, December 3rd in Chicago at the Mayne Stage in Rogers Park. This year’s entries include • Falling Apart, written by Matthew George, directed by Audrey Francis (Pine Box Theatre, Black Box Acting Studio) • Dark Muse, written by Colin Johnson, directed by Kimberly Senior (Strawdog Theatre, Next Theatre, Steppenwolf)• Alabama Mermaid, written by Jessica Wright Buha, directed Carolyn Hoerdemann (Court Theatre, DePaul University)• Legacy, written by Christopher Hainsworth, directed by Carolyn Klein (Seanachai Theatre, Deathscribe 2010)• Entity, written by Thomas J. Misuraca, directed by Manny Tamayo (Factory Theatre).

If that isn’t mind blowing enough – Ora Jones (“Wendy” from Prison Break), The Theatre School’s flexibly brilliant Julia Neary, special effects maverick J. Anthony Kosar (whose Toby creature mask for Satanic Panic was profiled in Fangoria #287), myself (yes, the Big Gay Horror Fan) and so many other cool folks will be on hand as judges for the event.

More information on Deathscribe 2011 and WildClaw, who specialize in horror based theatre, can be drilled (in the head) @ www.wildclawtheatre.com!

And until next time – Sweet love and pink Grue, Big Gay Horror Fan!

There are beasts living in Big Gay Horror Fan’s building! And I am not talking about the mysterious couple, next door, who slither about the hall at all hours of the morning or even the moon eyed drunk who catatonically thrashes out of the elevator whenever I happen to try to use it! No, I am talking about the giant towers of rats that reside in the garage dump inside the alley entrance. This is the entrance that I have to use to because I am a biker and can’t take my favorite form of transportation through the building’s front door. Suck as that may, this situation is actually a perfect example of how the world really works. Help save on fossil fuels and your nightly reward is flea ridden fiends scattering about your feet! And no!  I am not talking about my last three dates, assholes. (Pf-f-f-t.  I haven’t had a date in years!)

Pathetic as that admission may be, I still feel I am far luckier than Nightmare on Elm Street honey Lisa Wilcox and genre icon Martin Kove. In their recent release Savage these two not only have to battle costume nightmares (Wilcox = a pregnancy pad while Kove, a long way off from sporting white, crotch beckoning shorts in 1982’s Blood Tide, has to contend with filthy jeans and rotting teeth) but a savage, tree bopping Bigfoot monster, as well!!

Seeing as I dig gigantic, gooping wads of cheese far more than any of my favorite gutter dwellers, I actually kind of got a bit sweet on my Savage. (Or – could it be because of those three years without any physical contact?!? H-m-m-m… well, maybe with a little Nair? Nah.) Back on point: With Savage, naturally you get your stock characters – the bedraggled local (Kove), the eager scientist, the repentant murderous criminal (here a sexy young woman who – spoiler – in one of the film’s thrillingly anticipated moments, ultimately, sacrifices herself to pay for her sins) and, lastly, the proud, upstanding officer and his devoted, pregnant wife (Wilcox). Most importantly – you, also, get an honest monster in a suit, as well! This ‘Mister All Knawing on Human Flesh and Stuff’ isn’t the most real looking beastie you’ve seen in your life, but it is better than CGI any day of the week, thank you!

There are also several truly thrilling sequences where our Yeti bounds through the forest with swinging passion, knocking past trees and wood life with such rage filled abandon, that I almost needed to grab my blonde defibrillator just to revive myself. These chase sequences are filmed with heat and passion by director, Jordan Blum, and are worth the price of your ape seat alone.

Now, to save you from edge of your seat wondering: Is Savage great art? Nah. But, it sure is a heck of a lot of fun!

Savage is currently growling, furiously, throughout your favorite rental palace, courtesy of MTI Video. Check them out at http://www.facebook.com/mtihomevideo  and —

Until next time – Sweet love and pink Grue, Big Gay Horror Fan

It’s autumn, again (albeit a miserably damp one), which almost always appeals to Big Gay Horror Fan’s more subtle, romantic side. So, the horrors I’ve been drawn to of late have definitely been of the more ‘Ella Fitzgerald in a smoky jazz club followed by a cardigan bundled walk in the park’ variety.

Still, for all who think 1942’s I Married Witch is just a silly piece of old fashioned froth with no roots in true terror – prepare to be surprised as I was. Granted, this smoky piece of cinema’s true charms lies in its Katherine Hepburn-Spencer Tracy war of the sexes’ comparisons.  But there is plenty of charming Halloween boogedy, boogedy to found here, as well. Released as a wave of silken fog from her hilltop prison, soon to be silvery blonde witch Jennifer immediately begins seeking romantic revenge on the descendant of the pilgrim who had sentenced her to death, hundreds of years before. Forming a stunning corporal body from the flames of a hotel fire, Jennifer makes up for lost time by exploding sexily through the skies on a broom, riding up stairway banisters in reverse and, with the help of her gleefully demented warlock father, devising a love potion to enslave her target to her forever.  The plot twist in which Jennifer, herself, swallows the elixir turns the tale into unfortunate reverse feminism mode, but clues the viewer into the original basis for such future projects as Bell, Book and Candle and the beloved television show, Bewitched.

As Jennifer, Veronica Lake is pure celluloid magnificence, and at 4’ 11’, looks like the true embodiment of a living doll. Her physicality, though, makes the 25 year age difference between Lake (born 1922) and co-star Frederic March (born 1897) all the more glaring, though. Apparently, feeling that March treated her like dirt, Lake found plenty of time to play jokes on him, on set. Although, when she wasn’t rubbing his crotch with her foot while the cameras were focusing on his face or rigging her body with weights for scenes where he carried her, the two rarely spoke. This vast canyon in experience, also, supplies I Married a Witch with a crystal clear stance on the sexist ageism of Hollywood, as well. Would the powers-that-be have ever considered pairing character actress Clara “Aunt Em” Blandick (born 1880) with swashbuckler Tyrone Power (born 1914) in a gothic romantic comedy? Hell, I might as well ask if BGHF will ever get to help Dylan McDermott prep for his nude scenes in American Horror Story. And we all know the answer to that one! (And if you don’t know, I’m not telling!)

But despite its constrictions (including casting red hot Susan Hayward, whose sexuality smolders despite her earnest efforts to tame it, as March’s repressed fiancé) I Married a Witch ultimately proves itself to be a delightfully misty classic. Interestingly, the lingering horror of the true fate of the Salem witches, which is touched upon in the film’s opening, gives it a palpably haunting atmosphere, as well.

As for the transcendent Lake, despite a number of classics (Sullivan’s Travels, This Gun For Hire), she found herself dumped in mediocre fare for most of her career and all but disappeared from Hollywood productions by early 1950’s. Struggling with alcoholism, she executive produced and starred in a Floridian based drive-in shocker, Flesh Feast, in 1970. (Though, online sources claim the film was actually shot in 1967.) While, her strong work as Dr. Elaine Frederick may be a fitting farewell performance for terror nuts everywhere, it is indeed a true horror that she lost her life to hepatitis complications, a few years later, at the very young age of 50.

Meanwhile, a modern production with golden age glint emphasizes some of the struggles that Lake must have experienced in her own career. Peilin Kuo’s short feature Prescott Place is a visual feast for lovers of strong 1940’s women’s films, Douglas Sirk melodramas and the richly gothic horrors that graced the screen in the 50’s (including Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte and the ilk). Chronicling the crazed illusions of a masked, former Hollywood queen, this highly acclaimed production features a passionate performance from Alexis Iacono and one of the creepiest talking dolls this side of Dead of Night.

Most clearly reminiscent of Sunset Boulevard, Iacono’s Jane Prescott has been long neglected career-wise and romantically abandoned, as well. When an age old lover finally returns to her arms, Prescott finally releases all hope for a normal life by locking him away with her only companion, a doll that strangely bares her likeness. Obscure, yet rich with recognizable emotion, Kuo and Iacono have created a highly original piece with Prescott Place.

More information on Prescott Place can be gathered at http://www.facebook.com/pages/Prescott-Place/160089877344149 or at www.prescottplacemovie.com !

And until next time –

Sweet love and pink Grue, Big Gay Horror Fan!

Acclaimed as a writer and designer in her own right, Victoria Price, the daughter of horror legend Vincent Price, has been spreading the word of her father’s magnanimous artistic spirit throughout the many Vincentennial celebrations that have been,  lovingly, cropping up the past year, in honor of the late icon’s 100^th birthday. (Price will be appearing in Chicago for one such event on Sunday, October 30^th at 2pm at the Portage Theater – http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=163103617107401.) The openly gay Price took a few minutes to talk about her father’s contribution to the world, beyond the cobwebbed tiers of horror, in this engaging chat with Big Gay Horror Fan.

Big Gay Horror Fan: I saw Lucie Arnaz on the Oprah show, years ago, promoting scrapbook software involving her parents’ legacy. She claimed it never entered her mind that she would become the archivist of her parent’s memories. Did you have a similar reaction as the daughter of Vincent Price?

Victoria Price: Both Lucy and Lucie were good friends of our family growing up. And, yes, like Lucie I became an ‘archivist’, as it were, completely by accident. When he was bedridden, toward the end of his life, all of my friends kept telling me that I should work on a book about art with my father.  I kept on telling them he won’t say yes, but I barely got the words book and art out and he said, “Yes!” I think it was his way to get close to me, again, because my stepmother had kept us apart for so many years.  I had a fulltime job where I got my afternoons free, specifically so I could write. So, I spent 9 months, 3 afternoons a week, lying on his bed with him and talking about art. Now, I think the last person that should write a book about a parent is his child. You just don’t have any fair sense of bias. But, no publishers were interested in a book about art and I wanted the world to know about my father’s contribution to that world. So, that is how Vincent Price: A Daughter’s Biography came about. As for the talks I have been giving at the Vincentennial events, there are any number of people who could celebrate the horror movies and probably 100’s who could do it better than I could. What I focus on is how passionate my father was about living. He was generous beyond belief and truly encouraged people to live their lives to the fullest.  That is an amazing message that I can impart to people and the true essence of who my father was.

BGHF: So, divorcing from the horror a bit, do you have a favorite film role of your father’s from across the many spectrums he performed in?

VP: Well, it’s not a film. It’s a play and it should work wonderfully for the readers of Big Gay Horror Fan! My father was playing Oscar Wilde in a one man show called Diversions and Delights in San Francisco in 1977. I was 15 years old and Anita Bryant was at the height of her anti-gay hate campaign. So, there she was on her bigoted soapbox and here was my father in San Francisco doing this play. My father was the bridge between the gay world and the straight going theater public and he loved it! And as an actor, he went to these heights that I didn’t know he was capable of and perhaps that he didn’t know he was capable of himself. The play took place toward the end of Wilde’s life, after he had been and jail and was penniless. The basis was that Wilde was giving a lecture in Paris under an assumed name, because he was still so controversial that he couldn’t be booked under his own name. The first act was funny and full of the recognized Wilde witticisms. The second act got much more poignant and was full of Wilde’s heartbreak over the loss of Bosie. My father was just magnificent in it and got incredible reviews.

BGHF: I wish I could have seen that. I was actually very surprised to learn of the rumors surrounding your dad’s sexuality, though.

VP: Well, my stepmother Coral Browne was bi-sexual and I think she and my dad delighted in being the anti-thesis of say John Wayne and his wife. They would have probably been tickled by such wonderings, perhaps even encouraged them. Have you read the article I wrote in the Advocate about this?

BGHF: Yes, it’s a great piece of writing and I’ll include the link, here.

http://www.vincentprice.org/bios/article.html

VP: So, I don’t think such speculation would have bothered my father at all. He was simply without judgment and very supportive of gay causes. He would have loved your Big Gay Horror Fan column!

BGHF: Wow! That was the sound of my knees buckling in delight and a ringing endorsement if I’ve ever gotten one! Thanks so much, Victoria. I look forward to meeting you in Chicago.

While the list of genre actors lost to AIDS is long (Anthony Perkins – Psycho…; Christopher Stryker – Hell High; Merritt Butrick – Star Trek 2, Death Spa, Fright Night 2; Tom Villard – Popcorn, Parasite; David Oliver – The Horror Show, Night of the Creeps; Tom McBride – Friday the 13^th, Part Two), there is definitely one notable starlet, and Big Gay Horror Fan favorite, who lost her life to the insidious disease.

Best known (to the public at large) for playing the original Brenda Clegg (a role, also subsequently, played by Hellraiser’s Ashley Laurence and Gimme An F’s Karen Kelly) on the early 80’s soap opera Capital, darkly beautiful actress Leslie Graves starting giving wise beyond her years performances as a child with guest appearances in the early 70’s on Sesame Street and The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

Coming off smartly sassy with an eternal rebel’s edge, Graves is best known to horror fans, though; as Ricky Paull Goldin’s (The Blob, Mirror, Mirror) rough and tumble love interest in debuting James Cameron’s 1981’s so awful its delicious Piranha II.  With an attitude sharper than any flying monstrosity’s teeth, it is no surprise that Graves’ Allison made it to the film’s limb blown ending.

Unfortunately, the toughness Graves exhibited on screen masked a seemingly depressive heart and, various sources report, that when Capital co-star and mother figure, Carolyn Jones, died from cancer, Graves entered a downward spiral that ended with her being fired, after two years of heartfelt work,  from the soap in the summer of 1984. Periodicals, at the time, named stress as the reason, but it has been since widely reported that she was dismissed after collapsing on set due to heroin use.

Besides a nude layout (of which she had done several) in the fall of 1984, Graves next major public statement was the announcement of her death, due to AIDS complications, in 1995. (In a sad twist of irony, actor Bill Beyers, best known to B Movie fans as James Spader’s ‘perfect ‘ brother in Tuff Turf, who played Graves’ onscreen soul mate in Capital, died of AIDS in 1992, as well.)

While the celluloid legacy (which includes a small role in the notorious Death Wish 2) she left behind is small, anyone who recalls Graves’ naturally rambunctious performances is sure to speak of her with a fond heart. BGHF, for one, always will.

To witness Graves, in her youth in aggressively fun action, check out this link to her The Mary Tyler Moore Show episode:

http://www.imdb.com/video/hulu/vi3972136985/

And ‘til next time –

Sweet love and pink Grue,

Big Gay Horror Fan

Hello, all my midnight cowboys! While Big Gay Horror Fan knows there have been dozens of awesome screen teams – Abbott and Costello, Lewis and Martin, Hoffman and Voight, Lassander and Scott, Cushing and Lee, Karloff and Lugosi – none of those quaint conjoinings quite reaches the heights of the pairing of Shannon Tweed and Catherine Oxenburg in the 1992 erotic thriller Sexual Response –well, in my moistly, sheet tossed mind, of course.

In this juicy, storm swept gem, Tweed (lush, but looking a little freaky due to her elaborately dyed brown eyebrows) plays a repressed radio sex expert and Oxenberg is her sexually adventurous producer/best friend. Encouraged by Oxenberg, Tweed soon embarks on a passionate, Body Heat-light affair with a swarthy artist named Edge. (Not the U2 dude, my rock ‘n roll enthusiasts. Not. At. All.) Of course, after a couple of long and lustful (get the unrated version, natch!) soulfully moan drenched encounters; Edge appears to be a few twists short of a sharp knife! But is all what it seems be with Tweed’s rich and powerful husband? As Oxenberg investigates (chewing, seductively, on a carrot the whole while), Tweed showers, lounges and frets, mountainside – doffing most of her clothing (and saving, generously, on wardrobe costs) for most of the film’s (term used, loosely, of course) running time.

And while this brief plotline description may not support the bestowing of cinematic immortality, Oxenberg (who took on the damsel-in-distress role, herself, in the late 80’s slasher offering Overexposed) with her sassy entendres mixes so well with Tweed’s quieter insecurity that to NOT call them the greatest acting association of all time almost seems criminal. And we wouldn’t want that my darlings would we? Would we?!!?

So, until next time –

Sweet love and Pink Grue,

Big Gay Whore-or – whoops! – Horror Fan.

Last Friday night at the Jackhammer leather bar in Chicago, Big Gay Horror Fan saw so many perfect mates!! (Well, for at least 5 minutes in a tearoom, that is!). There was a big bespectacled intellectual type who promised, much like an alcoholic Jim Morrison, to help me rip it on through to the other side! There was the burly Italian leather man who told me I reminded him of his wife’s pediatrician (oh the flattery!), and whom did indeed smell like a birthing room. There was, also, that scrawny middle aged punk rocker type who threatened to bind me up in his pink stretch pants if I didn’t recite the words to X-Ray Spec’s “Oh, Bondage, Up Yours!” backwards, in double time! After narrowly escaping that hot situation of almost uncertain doom, I realized that this backroom eclecticism reminded me most profoundly of today’s independent horror scene. There is a little bit of everything out there for terror freaks, everywhere, to enjoy!

For instance, Greg Holtgrewe’s Dawning takes on a grisly psychological bent as a brother and a sister join their estranged father and his wife at the old family cabin for a weekend of marshmallow roasting and reconnecting. Of course, a haunting woods’ presence is out to destroy their strained idyllic maneuverings and the late night arrival of a mysterious stranger seems to spell doom for them all.

While the talented cast (with special kudu’s to Christine Kellogg-Darrin’s strained stepparent) never quite gels as a familial unit and the oblique ending frustrates a bit, Holtgrewe does create a film of true intensity and  a sequence involving  daughter Aurora’s (Najarra Townsend) spookily lit flight from a car crash is a feast of cinematic beauty. Most importantly, though, Dawning’s emotional impact is highly viable, making one realize that the demons of the past can truly destroy you unless they are dealt with on a true and complete level.

Dawning will be released by Breaking Glass Pictures and Vicious Circle Films on June 28^th, 2011.

www.breakingglasspictures.com

On the other hand, the equally low budget Death Hunter: Werewolves Vs. Vampires, released on May 24^th 2011 from MTI Video, is a frothily fun lark involving a determined husband’s attempt to rescue his pregnant wife from a vicious vampire clan. Of course, being bitten by a werewolf and trained by a cape clad, mad scientist definitely helps our exasperated hubby in his rescue attempts!

Filled with cheesy Ray Harryhausen style wolf effects, wobbly sets and the awkward introduction of group of horny college kids/victims well after the film’s halfway mark, Death Hunter is, ultimately, one of the reasons BGHF loves this genre so much! Directed with enthusiasm by Dustin Rikert, this film is just ridiculously fun! Starting with a bang by adding a surprise twist to the film’s opening kill sequence (often the best part of many horror films)and assisted by Shari Wiedmann’s softly effective performance as the hero’s missing wife, this is a time waster on the purest level, and if you know that going into it, you just might have a ball! Well, a fur ball, that is!

More information on Death Hunter: Werewolves Vs. Vampires is available at www.mtivideo.com

Big Gay Horror Fan has always loved the underdogs – those grand folks who keep on trying, and despite public endearment, never quite make it to the top. For that reason, fairly obscure actresses such as Jenny Neumann (Mistress of the Apes, Hell Night), Cindy Fisher (Bad Ronald, Strike Force), Aleisa Shirley (Sweet Sixteen) and Deanna Robbins (Final Exam) – among many others – have a special place in my heart. My true favorite among all these lovely lasses, though, would have to be Cathryn Hartt. A respected stage actress and dramatic coach, Hartt appeared in a number of films and television shows during the 70’s and 80’s including The Seduction, Fantasy Island and even For the Love of Benji. She is, perhaps, especially in celebrity circles, best known as Morgan Fairchild’s sister, but as a vibrant and dedicated performer, Hartt is definitely deserving of a following of her own. So, in order to right this wrong and finally establish cultural equilibrium, I have compiled an annotated listing of Hartt’s most significant work for movie lovers, of every passion, to prosper by! Grab those ragged, celluloid covered shovels and dive in –and as always, viva la Hartt!!

Creature From Black Lake. 1976. IMDB lists this as Hartt’s, then using the name Catherine McClenny, first major film appearance. She has a nice co-starring role, appearing in two important scenes, as Eve, a goofily rambunctious, incredibly awkward, back-woods Louisianan waitress. Hartt employs a true sense of physical awareness and comic timing, something she uses to great advantage in most of her film roles. As for the movie, itself, -this is a grainy, pleasant, low budget affair with a true sense of atmosphere and a low key Southern charm. Two college researchers, from Chicago, head out into the swampy wilds to track down a mythical creature. Of course, none of the townspeople want to talk about the creature – at least on record or without monetary bribing. Jack Elam shows up as a blustering drunk who lost his trapping partner to the creature and Dub Taylor gives a naturally comic turn as an old timer who experienced the creature’s wraith on several occasions. Dennis Fimple, as the bumbling student and John David Carson (Empire of the Ants, Pretty Maids All in a Row), as his smart-ass partner-in-crime, play, nicely, off of one another –and their final confrontation with the creature, while not exactly horrifying, is intense and well-acted by the two of them. This is, ultimately, low radar, enjoyable drive-in movie fare and, as for aficionados of the Bigfoot myth and Southern Swamp features – well, they just may have found a winner.

Seniors. 1978. This t-and-a offering is actually pretty flat (and, no, I’m not referring to the bosoms, but the jokes!) despite the participation of Dennis Quaid and Jeffrey Byron (from early 1980’s 3-D Metalstorm: The Destruction of Jared Syn and latter day vampire soap, Port Charles) as graduating college students whom hatch a plan to stay on campus by pretending to be sexual researchers conducting a survey-experiment, charting the liberated female’s fantasies and desires. Hartt, still billed as McClenny, is one of the many girls who volunteers for the project. She has one of the better moments, as a kinky college girl, named Diane, who “struggles” to free herself from a set of ropes, while tied to a bed- and this scenario and Hartt’s appeal and talent help make her stand out as more than just one in an ocean of women in this weak comedy.

The Greatest American Hero. 1982. “The Price is Right”. In this episode from the aborted third and final season of this geek boy favorite, Hartt plays an obnoxious former classmate of series lead, William Katt. Here, as in most of her credits, Hartt vibrates with star power in her one brief scene, easily earning the wraith of the audience and series’ regular Connie Sellecca due to her over familiarity with Katt’s flustered Ralph.

Pink Motel. 1983. This one is actually kind of cute with a vignette style that ultimately keeps things interesting. The script, is sophomoric, of course, and while this is no California Suite (although was California Suite even a California Suite, really?!), the eclectic and talented cast commit to their material as if it were Neil Simon’s best and that keeps this flush baby from drowning on numerous occasions. Phyllis Diller (The Boneyard) and Slim Pickens are entertaining and bring some Old Hollywood pizzazz, as they play the bridge between the segments, the owners of the “Pink Motel” where everything takes place. The couples who check into the various rooms of the hotel are a teenage couple about to lose their virginity, two adulterers, an impotent football star and his date and two “swingers” with dates that they have picked up at a party. Hartt, at her most gorgeous, is part of the last equation. She and her main co-star, Christopher S. Nelson (son of genre icon Ed Nelson and star of Greydon Clark’s beloved Without Warning), do everything possible with their material, and with perfect comic timing, make some unoriginal jokes shine. Nelson is not afraid to make an ass out of himself (something he, also, proves in the Linda Blair cult classic Roller Boogie, making him an automatic BGHF favorite) – in more ways than one – and Hartt, given her most screen time in an wide ranging career, is a beautiful scene partner, reacting to and commenting on his actions, so that the audience knows that she thinks he is a buffoon, but he never catches on. The segment ends with an amusing twist that shows that the men, whom appeared to be controlling the situation, were not so dominant, after all.

Flicks. 1987. As sexy Star Trek like space officer, Hartt finds time for some flirty, topless fun with comedian Richard Belzer as Janette in this episodic venture’s ‘New Adventures of the Great Galaxy’ segment. This Amazon Women on the Moon style flick is genuinely bizarre with its light take on science fiction, horror and film noir (including a segment with Pamela Sue Martin teaming with an alien bug detective) but rarely reaches the comedy heights it reaches for. Although, it does feature the work of such respected artists as comedian Martin Mull and Academy Award nominated actress Joan Hackett (How Awful About Allan) and early behind the scenes mask work from the Chiodo Brothers (Killer Klowns from Outer Space). An IMDB source claims Flicks was filmed in 1981 but never released until it made its way to video shelves in 1987.

Open House. 1987. This is a kind of grim, back of the lot type feature, but with genre veterans galore and an almost pornographic take on violence, it probably counts itself as the most viewed (possibly due to convention center bootleg copies highlighting star Adrienne Barbeau’s nudity) in the Cathryn Hartt oeuvre. Pretty real estate agents are being slaughtered in vicious ways and poor real estate mogul, Barbeau and her boyfriend, radio shrink Joseph Bottoms (Blind Date, The Black Hole), try to find out who is doing it and why. Besides, Barbeau and Bottoms’ roles, there is little character development and most of the agents are introduced, for the first time, upon entering the houses where they will soon might their demises. Still, there is something about the over-the-top nastiness of this enterprise that is almost cynically appealing and there is enough gruesomeness in the death scenes to satisfy most gore hounds. Scott Thompson Baker (Rest in Pieces) comes to a vividly, bloody end and 70’s starlet, Tiffany Bolling (Kingdom of the Spiders, The Centerfold Girls), also, makes an appearance. Hartt, meanwhile, plays Melody, one of the surviving agents, who in her enthusiasm to make a sale bungles her way through language and cultural barriers. She is comedic relief, and once again, makes very nice work of it. Her reaction shots, upon finding a murdered agent in the bathroom, is when director Jag Mundhra (perhaps best known for 90’s exploitation hit Night Eyes with Tanya Roberts and Andrew Stevens) , truly, begins his delightful excessiveness, as well. Her looks of horror are shown from every angle in juicy and melodramatic flare, and for any actress, a better genre film finale – even in a movie as badly enjoyable as this one – would be mighty hard to come by.

Be sure to check out Hartt’s IMDB page at  http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0367246/

and until the next time —

Sweet love and pink grue, BGHF

Out of all Big Gay Horror Fan’s dirtiest secrets, the fact that I love such mainstream chick horror flicks as the recent Prom Night remake, The Haunting of Molly Hartley (both 2008) and (last week’s quickly snatched up DVD release of) The Roommate may be the muddiest! Striking this up to my sexuality may be the easiest answer, but I think this flirty adoration lies more with my childhood love of such television terror flicks as The Initiation of Sarah (1978), A Vacation in Hell (1979), Midnight Offerings and No Place to Hide (both 1981) and Deadly Lessons (1983) which these contemporary terrors closely ape with simplistic variations. Indeed, like those televised terrors which featured the series ready ladies of the day (Morgan Fairchild, Mary McDonough, Maureen McCormick, Melissa Sue Anderson), these current flicks feature such proud network lasses as Shannon Woodward (Raising Hope), AnnaLynne MacCord (90210), Leighton Meester (Gossip Girl) and Minka Kelly (Friday Night Lights).

And from where I stand (well, actually sit), until the final moments when it’s carefully laid plot threads hurtle toward a rushed conclusion, The Roommate features basic, but nicely construed situations involving a psychotic young woman’s (Meester) attachment and bloody manipulation of her college roommate (Kelly). Although, the fact that these two actresses so closely resemble each other (which, admittedly, is an important plot point) can drive one a bit batty and The Vampire Diaries’ elegant Nina Dobrev (also the star of the fun, sexually twisted Fright Night rip-off Never Cry Werewolf) is completely wasted in a role that should have been more richly examined, The Roommate fascinates with how actually kinky Meester’s character becomes. Whether violently masturbating to the voice of her gal pal’s former boyfriend or sadistically ripping the piercing of a rival off in an intensely choreographed shower scenario, Meester’s Rebecca is one calm, cool and very odd bunny rabbit.

On an interesting note (and no I am not referring to Cam Gigandet, Matt Lanter or Alex Meraz – the film’s multiple male flesh monkeys), The Roommate, also, features a very confident lesbian character in the form of Danneel Harris’ Irene. Of course, in real life, all the good fan kids know that Harris now goes by the last name Ackles. Yep, she’s officially Jensen’s wife and, yes, that is the sound of my supernatural heartstrings snapping, folks!                            Anyhow, while a film geared more to the male audience might have found the addition of the very sexy, very female hungry Irene as mere titillation, here she comes off as fun and powerful (within the two dimensional bounds of the project, that is) and she is definitely one of the film’s good guys, as well, surprisingly surviving to the last frame. Which, as minutely thankful as that may be, is truly something that the Sapphic characters of such terror-ifically traumatic films as Class Reunion Massacre (1978) and Detour aka ‘who loves ya, femme lip locking Tiffany Shepis?’ (2003) definitely could not say.

Meanwhile, one Twilight based co-star of Gigandet and Meraz (who both appear in the series – with Lanter, coincidentally, joking it up in the Vampire’s Suck parody), the lovely young Ashley Greene, gets into even more possibly degrading situations than the redoubtable Meester in the oddly twisted Summer’s Moon (2009). As Summer Matthews, a tough ass searching for her long lost father, Greene barely registers, but the bizarre, illicitly incestuous and ultimately murderous activities she engages in here are peculiarly enjoyable viewing. If Greene did take on the role to break through any cute teenage conventions brought on by her voyage on the Stephanie Meyers’ path, one wishes she looked like she was relishing the experience more, but veteran actor Stephen McHattie clearly amps up the psychotic energy as Summer’s possible pater familiar and the film ultimately leaves one with that pleasant dirty feeling that only the sleaziest of exploitation can provide.

But, if one truly needs to see a former teen cutie going full hog, check out Lindsay Lohan’s prosthetic based sex scene in the amazing I Know Who Killed Me (BGHF’s most favorite movie of all time!).

http://www.metacafe.com/watch/785802/lindsay_lohan_i_know_who_killed_me_sex_scene/

And even though with the above  comments I just hit the perfect 666 in word count, I just gotta say that link is better than milk n’ cookies to help the young ones sleep at night and, MOST IMPORTANTLY, that Lohan’s performance in this is truly fearless and because of this, despite any real life foibles, she will always be Queen Number One (Yeah, screw you, Elizabeth!) in my fruit flavored book!