I was never “goth” in high school but, as I understand it, young kids would dress up in black and listen to this anthem which celebrates Bela Lugosi Sr., who I’m sure is a very nice man. There are so many things I don’t understand about our youth. God bless them. Happy Halloween, you little murderers out there.
And, isn’t this nice…a live version and possibly the funniest thing I’ve seen all season. These guys opened for Armada Featuring Herman Menderchuk, I believe.
Imagine ALEJANDRO JODOROWSKY being put in charge of the art department for Hollywood’s next batch of tent pole summer films, and you’ve dipped your toes in the waters of madness that make up these nightmarish film posters from Ghana. Yeah, I’m pretty much buying this unassuming book from Amazon, like, immediately.
In the 1980s video cassette technology made it possible for “mobile
cinema” operators in Ghana to travel from town to town and village to
village creating temporary cinemas…
In order to promote
these showings, artists were hired to paint large posters of the films… The artists were given the
artistic freedom to paint the posters as they desired – often adding
elements that weren’t in the actual films, or without even having seen
the movies…
The artistic freedom that these artists were
given allowed for the creation of some very interesting and sometimes
bizarre posters that, as screenwriter Walter Hill wrote, were quite
often “more interesting than the films.”
Here are a few favorites from the site:
I’m guessing the Marmaduke movie in development ain’t gonna look anything like this. Which is a shame, cause that’s the only way in hell I’m going to see it. But it’s good to see Brian Warner getting work
You remember the theme song for this movie: “Charles in Charge/Up on Days/And Protecting John Connor.” Sure, it wasn’t very catchy, but neither was the alternate title for this Ghana version: “Scott Baio is 45 and Has a Penis Pistol and Rosy Red Nipples.”
This showcases a famous scene from Ghana’s “Poltergiest 2: The Giest is Loose.” I speak, of course, of the finale when a bottle of soda orgasms a blood-drooling demon that craps chainsaws which, in turn, rain down on Craig T. Nelson’s waiting sedan. Then Demon Verne Troyer looks on in delight as Baby Snow White fondles her dollie’s breasts. Splendid piece of cinema. Splen-DID.
This was sort of a catch all poster for Where the Wild Things Are, Twilight: New Moon and Old Dogs (the naked dwarf being Seth Green, and the horned monster being a gorilla rocking him to death. Great comedy: the universal language!)
Dear Ghana House Party poster painter guy: You nailed it, brother. Take a bow. Drop that makeshift paintbrush and let some other fool finish the C.H.U.D. mock-up. You’ve more than earned your weight in goat meat today.
I can conclude that “the spy” refers to the man with the burned off face and “me” refers to the shrieking harpy growing out of his ass. But what I can’t figure out is why this movie isn’t called “I’M ALTERNATELY TERRIFIED OF THE SPY WHO LOOKS LIKE PETER LORRE AND THE FISH WITH THE HAPHAZARDLY CIRCUMCISED TAIL FIN.”
Patrick Swayze, Kelly Lynch and Sam Elliott look better than ever! Now THIS is a poster the screams “blockbuster” the world over! Genius, GENIUS piece of promotional art.
…Ok, ok…I drew this. But If someone could please pass it along to the guy in Ghana hiring people to paint American movies on canvas flour sacks, I’d be forever in your debt. I hear that economy’s booming!
I’ve finally figured out my perfect movie formula: What could possibly be more exciting than…
A.) the sudden critical acclaim and respect of a forgotten actor whose face looks like a Jim Henson Creature Shop wet dream (see: MICKEY ROURKE, SID HAIG).
B.) The successful, thoughtful resurrection of a once dead and buried property (see: BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, ROCKY BALBOA.)
Combine them, and you’ve got a case of the fanboy warm-and-fuzzies that is equal parts cheery Gizmo in a Barbie convertible and Jagermeister after a chest cold. Actually, that’s the same formula that could lead to a fiery pink wreck of blood and hair all over the interstate. Well, I’m taking my chances. Here are the mash-ups I want to see.
JACKIE EARLE HALEY in THE ICE CREAM MAN. We all know JEH is the rich man’s Clint Howard, and he’s proven he’s more than just a pretty face in WATCHMEN (advertised as “Watchman” on his official site, which may not be official). Take his testicle-clipping performance in Little Children, add those nuts to a warm waffle cone, and BAM…origin story! This property’s gotta be cheaper than a new Nightmare on Elm Street film, and a helluva lot more fun. The Ice Cream Man’s puns make Freddy Krueger look like the greatest stand-up comic in horror.
ERNEST BORGNINE in GHOULIES! Ernest Borgnine’s career is already in the toilet (apologies to fans of Lifetime’s “A Grandpa For Christmas”), so why not let this beloved actor resurrect a movie about ass-biting sewer puppets? Ok, show of hands if you loved Ernie in ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK and his Best Actor Oscar-Winning MARTY—a movie which you’ve never seen but act like you have around film buff friends? [everyone raises hand] Ok, now show of hands if the VHS cover for Ghoulies delayed your potty training by three years as a kid? [everyone born before after 1980 raises hand]. So let’s combine the two and pinch out some movie magic.
JEFFREY JONES in FRIGHT NIGHT! This on-again, off-again remake has been in the works for some time, but it would have already been out and made a Gazillion US Dollars if they’d only hired the terrifying Jeffrey Jones as the lead vampire! Jeffrey Jones already built a career on making people feel weird and uncomfortable in FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF and HOWARD THE DUCK, and he took it to “video of ALF’s dad snorting crack off a male hooker” levels by becoming a registered sex offender. Well if Roman Polanski’s taught us anything, it’s that Hollywood is willing to overlook dalliances and foibles with unwilling 14-year-olds. People love a good Jeffrey Jones role, vampires are hawt right now, and underdogs NOW Comics would probably like to re-launch their 80s Fright Night series, so it’s a win-win-win!
Let’s show all show some critical compassion to Jones and some, oh…what’s the word. He yelled it at his secretary in Ferris Bueller? Oh yeah: “GRRAAACCCCE!!!!”
ANDY SERKIS in MAC AND ME! The Onion AV club unfairly dumped on this movie recently, using words like “shameless and wrong,” “hideous” and “horrifically scarred fetus.” Well, if a movie about a “O-faced” creature who survives on Coke and McDonalds product-placement is wrong, I don’t wanna be right. I loved this terrible, terrible, exploitative film as a kid. And that’s why Andy Serkis should slap on that Ping Pong Ball Suit of his and exchange his psychotic pursuit of the One Ring for a Big Mac Attack (wouldn’t it have been perfect if I’d have said “trade the One Ring for an Onion Ring there?” Well kiss my ass. McDonald’s doesn’t serve ‘em and I have a Journalism degree to uphold, thanks for asking.)
[True Story Digression: At the end of Mac and Me, and big title card promises "WE'LL BE BACK!" So, every year for 3 or 4 years, I would ask my mom when that Mac & Me sequel was coming, and she'd make up something about a filming delay. After it finally sank in that there was no sequel, I was crushed and jilted by Hollywood from that day forward. You don't promise little kids sequels and never deliver. A movie you love as a child is like a little universe that actually exists in your brain, and when there are no more movies it's like you've blown up Krypton in that kid's mind. You know that sinking feeling you get when you turn on Animal Crossing for the first time in 3 years, and your cute, once-loved village has been overrun by cockroaches and the stench of death? THAT'S WHAT WAS GOING ON TO THE MAC & ME UNIVERSE IN MY MIND EACH YEAR HOLLYWOOD DIDN'T GIVE ME A GOD DAMNED SEQUEL.
I still have a Mac and Me sized hole that has never been filled. And it's exactly as disgusting looking as that sounds.]
Halloween being my favorite holiday, and getting out of any and all learning activities a close second, you can imagine how I kicked myself when I forgot to dress up for Mrs. Fife’s drama class one morning in High School. The deal was, if you dressed up, you got to leave class and go show off your costume to the little kids. Everyone else got to stay behind and do assignments. Thinking I was sneaky, I got into the prop closet before class started and had my friend Bryan spray silver hair color all over my entire visible body.
And here’s how that conversation went:
TEACH: What the hell is this?
CHRIS: I’m the Silver Surfer!
TEACH: Tell me you didn’t use that hairspray color to do that
CHRIS: Yeah, you caught me, ha ha ha!
TEACH: Chris, you have to wash that off your skin.
CHRIS: Ok, I will, ha ha ha! Oh well, I tried! HA HA HA!
TEACH: No I’m serious…like right now. Any minute now your skin is going to stop breathing. You have to get that stuff off immediately.
If my face wasn’t doused in a thick chemical aerosol, you would have seen it go immediately pale when she said that. Try to imagine this being how you die: your pores were blocked by silver paint, your body stops getting oxygen, and you die on the floor of your drama class…and not even particularly well, since you suck at acting.
It literally took hours to get all this shit off my body. My skin was raw and bleeding. And when it rinsed off, the paint dripped all over my sensitive bunch. I’m talking real Tin Man’s balls here. But I missed most of the school day, which was kind of the point. And I got the shiny set of testicles I still sport today. What, do you think I washed them off? Dude…c’mon, chrome balls! I finally figured out how!
4. Hobo with Distended Ulcer
“Hi! I’m Apple Cheeks the Gainfully Employed Hobo! I gotta BIG CEE-GAR! I got me a Dick Tracy HAT! I’m a Lone Ranger memorabilia collector! Straight off the black gold, nuts in my hand, trustin no man, got my glock cocked, runnin this thing, ya understand ! AH CHA CHA!”
I think this picture ran in the paper. I have zero recollection of being this…whatever I am. The Green Hornet’s hayseed-in-the-city cousin? Jimmy Durante’s loser kid? I don’t know. If you know, then GIVE YOURSELF A GIANT CEE-GAR, KID! AH CHA CHA CHA! One thing’s for sure: there must have been a fire sale on Lone Ranger masks. Why does a Hobo need a Lone Ranger Mask? Why does the Pumpkin Girl in front of me? Was this some bizarre Kid Identity Protection clause at the newspaper? Or have you just wandered into a junior production of Eyes Wide Shut? I think this is right before I tricked Nicholas Cage into rescuing me, so we could put him in a giant Wicker Man. THE DRONE MUST DIE! THE DRONE MUST DIE!*
*middling reference to the 2006 Wicker Man remake, which I have just watched and feel I must immediately reference before my brain purges all memories of that movie from my cortex. Which happens right about….now.
3. Anton Chigurh
Left: Mugshot of Death Cab for Cutie keyboardist after some hostile snicker-snag with unruly fangirl. Right: Oscar-Winning badass.
Guess how many Halloween bar-patrons have heard of the 2007 Best Picture “No Country For Old Men,” and Best Supporting Actor Javier Bardem as Anton Chigurh, most iconic screen villain in recent years? The answer is zero. Or, to be more exact…
….how many Halloween bar patrons, after several beers, could recognize a walking broomstick of a man holding a painted garden sprayer with a Prince Valiant shag as the most terrifying film villain of our time? The answer to THAT…is also zero. I was so in love with Anton Chigurh that year, that I was blinded by the fact that you should never, ever go as a person for Halloween. And without the larger-than-life screen personality, eyes that could stop a man’s heart, or blood curdling voice, that’s essentially what I went as that year: a person. Jesus, THIS guy looks more like Anton Chigurh, and was better received at the bar:
I guess I figured people would say, “Who are you?” and I would say “Anton Chigurh, friendo!” and they would laugh and laaaaaugh and say, “I love that Oscar winning movie!” and I would flip one of the many quarters I was carrying around in my pocket that night and say “CALL IT, FRIENDO!” and they would say, “Oh no! ha ha ha. Don’t do it!” and I would squirt them in the forehead with my water-spraying, fake oxygen tank thing.
What actually happened is I just wandered around trying to keep an unapproachable look on my face, as everyone’s eyes darted in the opposite direction. I probably just looked like a retarded, angry landscaper.
So never go as another actor for Halloween. Unless you were horribly disfigured in a police accident, then you can go as Fred Krueger: Motivational Speaker
The next rule is, when all else fails, go as Gallagher, like my friend Sarah did. As in, “Who’s that cool Gallagher chick hanging around with that denim-loving ass-gardener?”
Pictured: Not at all a terrifying moment.
2. Every Clown My Parents Forced Me To Be
You see that mouth hanging open? That is the face of a brainless, mouth-breathing baby. That’s me. I’m that stupid baby. You know what I’m probably thinking right there? I’m probably thinking about eating my sock, or digging my fist into my own eye. That’s because babies are ridiculously, hilariously stupid creatures. Because they’re stupid and can’t make their own decisions, their parents decide what they are for Halloween until the child is cognizant enough to point at the TV and say “Mider-Man.” (that’s Spider-Man. That’s how I said it, and that’s how I got my first vinyl Spider-Man costume).
But until that time, my parents made me a clown. Year after yarn-brained year. And you can see, after half a decade of this, just how excited I was about it…
Pictured: From the photo series “Bad child gets what it deserves” or, alternately, “Purple clown placed in hot sun.”
Yes, I never got tired of this crap. I believe I allowed my face to be painted in this picture in exchange for a balloon and an A-Team shirt. Absolutely no dignity.
That’s also why, to this day, I believe I see a midnight visitor whenever I look out my bedroom window. Someday, my kids will too.
1. A. GOD. DAMN. CABBAGE. PATCH. DOLL.
When I was digging for these old costumes, this picture hit me like a pink nightmare. What. The. Hell. Was. This.
To be blunt—to be absolutely, frank, really—“Holy tits, why was I dressed like a fucking Cabbage Patch Doll?!??!” was one question that breezed through my mind. Again, I have zero recollection of this. I sincerely hope that thing hanging around my neck is a pacifier, and not a “plug” of some sort. Mom explains that this costume was thrust upon me, again, by my Aunt who hates little boy cousins, but enjoys little girl nieces.
There must be a big metal bin in most minimum security sex offender prisons where the mail sorters throw contraband pictures that come addressed to inmates. Near that metal bin must be a smaller, pink basket wear the guards throw only the most twisted and mind-shattering of incoming inmate mail. Alone, this picture would occupy that pink basket. Surely, this is the only reason I can think of for a picture like this to exist: be be mailed to a convicted pederast, or to bait one into appearing on Dateline.
Cabbage Patch related side-story: Kids of all sexes in my town went ape-shit for Cabbage Patch Dolls, like the rest of the country, in the early eighties. My small, backwater town was ill-prepared for this demand, but managed to get some dolls in that sold out instantly. And yet, somehow, my mom got my brother and I a Cabbage Patch Doll that just wasn’t selling in my tiny, values-driven Illinois town. No one had even touched it. I couldn’t believe our luck. My brother and I loved running through the yard with that thing, clutching our blankets. It wasn’t until years later that we figured out the reason my mom got her hands on it: it was a BLACK Cabbage Patch doll, and no other moms in town wanted it. Wow. Just….wow.
So, yeah, our family was ahead of the curve on human/doll race-relations.
The background of this terrifying picture is, of course, the popular Halloween posing spot in my house, as seen in “Skateboard Frankenstein,” so we’ve come full circle. I hope you’ve enjoyed a look at my most tragic Halloweens to date. Lord knows I’m now dead inside.
Christmas can go swallow a whole bottle of Flintstones vitamins and die on the way to the hospital as far as I’m concerned. Halloween is where it’s at. I’m working really hard this year on another boss costume to top last year’s Care Bear costume, an idea I BLATANTLY STOLE from Rickey Purdin and James Walker. And I got away with it, because I moved 1000 miles away and no one’s heard of Rickey and James west of Cincinnati:
Shown: Me as Care Bear and unnamed, sober woman I may or may not work with
But my ideas, stolen or not, haven’t always been on the mark. Here are the first 5 of the Worst Halloween Costumes I’ve Ever Worn (Look for the rest as the week goes on!!!!)
10. Skateboarding Frankenstein
Old school Nash skateboard? Pretty cool. Homemade paper mache Frankenstein head? Quite a feat of my mom and I. But combine the two, and I look like a Ralston Cereal Mascot reject: “Frank N. Boarder! Part of your complete breakfast, dudes!” And what’s with my neck bolts being in my forehead? If this rang my doorbell, I’d kick it in the nuts just on principal.
9.Teen Wolf
The guy in the middle? He’s the winner of the Jack and Jill Grocery Store costume contest. That’s because he looks like what he’s supposed to be. My cousin Jarrod on the left there, even he looks like a parrot. I’m supposed to be Teen Wolf. Here’s a quick comparison:
There’s no mistaking the picture on the left as Michael J. Fox as the beloved 80s icon, Teen Wolf. And there’s no mistaking the picture on the right for, what appears to be, a bear cub with Barry Gibb’s pubes glued around it’s entire head, wearing a flannel shirt. Needless to say, I didn’t win the Jack and Jill Grocery Store costume contest.
Name dropping side-story: When I worked at Wizard Magazine, I used to have to interview writer Jeph Loeb all the time. Then, one day, someone revealed to me that he wrote the Teen Wolf movie AND Commando! “Teen Wolf bought my first house,” he told me. I was floored. From that point on, and to this day, all I want to really talk about with Jeph Loeb is Teen Wolf. I don’t give a shit about how he and artist Tim Sale interact, I don’t care about what’s going on with Lost or whatever he’s producing these days….I want to hear goddamned Teen Wolf stories. I could not get enough of them, and took every opportunity to try to get one more out of him.
8. Jaws from Jaws IV
We got a lot of use out of this costume, which my mom made from those cool patterns they used to sell at Wal-Mart, housed in big filing cabinets, before Wal-Mart said “aww, fuck it” and started selling the same five “slutty nurse” costumes for $40 apiece. If I was 10 years old in 2009, I’d probably be a slutty nurse this year. There’s, like, no other choice.
Between me, my brother and my cousin I think, we got a lot of laughs from relatives who thought we were the SNL “Landshark” from year to year. Not exactly the vision of Dreyfuss-eating terror I was hoping to inspire. What you’re not seeing is a view from the front, where my face is painted black in the shark’s gaping mouth. Probably because I don’t want a more pictures of myself in Blackface all over the internet. Hey, I don’t need THAT public relations headache again, am I right!?!
But, hey, I thought I looked like Jaws. The rest of the neighborhood probably thought I was going as “An Orca eating Al Jolson,” but that’s neither here nor there.
7. Sad Vampire
This was another case of me being way ahead of my time. Today, sad vampires are all the rave, and adorable little Hulk Hogan costumes would just be too tasteless to imagine in light of the Hulkster’s divorce scandal, son-killing-a-kid-with-his-car scandal, daughter-being-a-talentless-whore scandal, and transvestite wife scandal.
I think that Hulkster is this guy Beau Thomas, I can’t remember. Though, I do remember being really jealous of his costume, and really feeling like I had phoned it in with a common vampire get-up that year.
“Stupid, SO STUPID!! You’ll never win the Jack and Jill Grocery Store contest with this bushleague vampire horseshit!!! Another year wasted!!!!,” I might be heard to say, alone in my room, slamming blocks and grinding potato chips into the carpet.
6. Michael Keaton’s Batman
I feel really bad about putting this on the list, because I think I gave my mom a really hard time about it, and she probably looked really hard for a good Batman costume.
I was in fourth grade, and Batman: The Motion Picture WAS MY EFFING WORLD. And evvvvery last sumbitch was going as Batman that year, and we knew we were going to have to top each other. I know it’s around somewhere, but I can’t find classmate Ryan Heinz’s superior Batman costume. I believe he held me down that year, and made it quite clear that HE WASN’T THE ONE WEARING HOCKEY PANTS!!!! I conceded his point.
Mine had ears that wouldn’t stand up, and a Lone Ranger mask sewn into it. Looking back, there’s probably nothing that could have met my expectations of a Batman the Movie costume short of Kevlar body armor with pre-molded nipples. But they weren’t selling that at Walgreens that year: they were selling this. And here I am, trying as I might to re-create the “terrify criminals with my cape extension trick” scene from the first 15 minutes of the movie. Just sad, really.
I lost whatever contest was going on, and Ryan Heinz went on to be the coolest man to ever live.
Shown: Redefining the shit-eating grin, Batman showoff Ryan Heinz
TOMORROW: THE REST OF THE WORST!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
