Various...

* Stirring around on a Saturday morning in lovely Toronto, where the Winter chill is careening in on us at meteorological speed.  At the same time, something called "Frankenstorm" is barreling down on the East Coast.  But the on-going production of a little thing called "Hemlock Grove" continues nonetheless.  Because neither rain nor sleet nor... well, actually, we're not the U.S. Postal Service, so nevermind.  Actually, one of the more exciting nights production-wise) on "Hemlock" was spent at a remote graveyard location where the skies opened up around 1AM with torrential rain and one of the most impressive (some would say scary) lightning storms I've ever experienced.  And yes, we did pack it up...

* AMC is running a "Fest Fest" this weekend in honor of Halloween and this morning featured the George Pal "War of the Worlds" from the early 1950's.  This was one of the seminal movies that fried your author's youthful brain pan in adolescence (in a good way) and damn if it still doesn't work.  Ruthless, more or less faceless invaders, check!  Ineffectual military, check!  Determined pastor trying to win over the aliens with a message of peace getting blasted, check!  Earnest scientists trying to find a defense being beaten by enraged mobs, check!  Why, over at Falling Skies, I/we even doffed our chapeau to the scene in W of the W where a hapless gent with a briefcase full of cash laments that he can't buy a ride "for the love of money." On Falling Skies, we had our hero Tom Mason warm himself over a bonfire of now useless bank notes.

But besides all that, the Martian death machines are among the most iconic "space invasion" designs ever, and that crazy sound they make when blasting away at pathetic humans remains unnerving.

* Some noisy person named Ann Coulter called President Obama a "retard" in a tweet.  When she received a bit of push-back, she disingenuously said that everyone knows "retard" means "loser."  I guess that makes her a miserable hose-bag, which, according to my own alternate world dictionary, means "lovely, lovely lady."

* Some harsh looking fellow named John Sununu went on the teevee after African American General Colin Powell announced his endorsement of African American Barack Obama and asserted that Powell was not actually backing Barack's policies (though during his announcement, Powell ran down those policies at length and why he supported them), but was simply backing up a brother.  I suspect someone is the Romney campaign is thanking God or their lucky stars and/or the on-going and utterly ignored issue of global warming for the upcoming Frankenstorm, which will hopefully distract attention from some of the outright racism being spewed by his campaign surrogates...     

Head, Consider Yourself Scratched

I am not an advertising executive nor do I proclaim any special insight into the collective mind of the American/Canadian consumer, but I don't understand how an ad featuring a bunch of 15th Century warrior goths running an amusement park ("Whack A Goth!") translates into someone seeking out a specific company's credit card.  In fact, I would be less likely to get that card, just as I would be less likely to buy auto insurance from a company that spends more time producing amusing anecdotes involving a cartoon gecko than explaining why their insurance is better than company #2...

But that's just me...

Mickey, Monkees, Soundalikes...

Back for the weekend, gathering up mail and goodies before heading back for the final two month stretch on Hemlock Grove.  A pile of goodies awaited, including:

Sugar, da da DAH da da da, ahh honey honey... yes, "Sugar Sugar" by the Archies managed to impress itself on my cerebrum from the moment I cut the single off the back of a Corn Flakes box (!) and slapped it on my semi-toy record player (pennies taped to the needle!) back in the day.  And today I'm listening to Mickey Dolenz of The Monkees do a rocked up version on his new CD "Remember."  Mr. Dolenz has released several solo records since the demise of the Monkees, and on his latest he covers songs ranging from The Beatles' "Good Morning Good Morning" to Bread's "Diary" (what a weeper!) to, yes, a rocked up version of "Sugar Sugar."  He also redoes a few Monkees hits, like "I'm A Believer."  What can I say.  I loved the Monkees when I was a wee lad and the Mick managed to hit my sweet spot with a bunch of these covers.  In other words, I like it...

On the other hand, in head scratching fashion, I was wandering through Amazon the other day looking at varied and sundry, and noticed there are a lot of generic "tribute" albums for sale, usually as Mp3 downloads.  These kind of baffle me.  For instance, there are at least a half dozen "Tribute to Bruce Springsteen" selections that, when sampled, prove to be mostly bland recreations of the original tracks.  Now, going WAY back, there was a market for cheap soundalike recordings of the hits... these recreations would be packaged on (vinyl) albums like "15 Top Hits By Today's Superstars!" and sell for half the price of regular albums at discount stores.  But are there really a lot of folks out there who would rather pay $8.99 for a soundalike album as opposed to say $9.99 for the real deal?  Or maybe I'm missing something entirely... maybe there are enough uninformed consumers who just click and buy before reading the fine print to make these "tributes" profitable.  Or collectors insane enough to want every possible permutation of tune from their fave artist?

It's still a baffler...

The Latest!

Not to descend into broken record land (a "record", for you young people, was a sound delivery system made of black vinyl which, if bent, could break) but it's been awhile since I dropped into FMVOF.  And I take full responsibility for this lapse.  Whatever that means.

As for the reason, well, I've been clawing my way through scripts on HEMLOCK GROVE (for Netflix, out next year, more to come soon!) along with the usual production hoo-hah. I have been allowed a very pleasant room in Toronto (where we're shooting HEMLOCK) and when not on set I find myself spending quite a bit of time at the keyboard.  Interestingly (sort of), from what I can tell, every room in this hotel has the same wall art prints of Sean Connery as James Bond and Marilyn Monroe as, well, Marilyn Monroe.  Deciding which icon to face while writing has become one of the bigger management decisions of the day.  (For what it's worth, it's Sean at the moment.)

But in those brief moments away from the keys, I've watched a little tube and seen a couple DVDs.  AMC just ran another "all Westerns" weekend and I caught dribs and drabs of OPEN RANGE, TOMBSTONE and JOE KIDD.  As as western fan, I've seen each of these more times than I should admit... in fact I find myself quoting JOE KIDD on occasion ("I should have knocked your damn head off!"), while rather enjoying the sheer cold-bloodedness of Clint's character.  At least twice in the movie he sends some unfortunate to his maker and punctuates the demise with a flicker of a smile.  Damn, Clint, that's a man's life you're tittering about!  But Joe Kidd doesn't care.  When Kidd and a gaggle of guys he doesn't like (long story) ride into a town that is festooned with riflemen ready to take them down, Kidd asks one of the riders he REALLY doesn't like to "ride ahead."  The poor dope rides out a hundred feet and gets shot off his horse.  Kidd shrugs.  "Thought we were gettin' too close."  Then the smile.

OPEN RANGE I like because it has a great performances by Robert Duvall and Kevin Costner, and a quirky story rhythm that doesn't fit the usual cowboy movie mold.  Aside from that, there are odd cutaways, fade outs and transitions that are either trying for a different mood, or covering some sort of editorial mistake that I can't figure out.   My only tiny critique is that the movie seems to end about four times, but the really great shootout at the end more than makes up for that.

And TOMBSTONE?  Well, that's just sheer pleasure.  Kurt Russell is dandy, but Val Kilmer is amazing as Doc Holiday. Again, the story sort of peters out toward the end, but the ride is great and I could watch this ten more times.

There were several other Westerns during Western weekend, including a couple of astonishingly sexist John Wayne movies. I may not have the details exactly right, but it appears that McLINTOCK ends with Wayne chasing Maureen O'Hara (in her underwear) around town, paddling her butt in front of the entire (laughing) populace, then SHE chases HIM as he leaves town, and the movie ends a minute later with the two of them silhouetted in a bedroom turning the lights out.  No sir, they just don't make 'em like that anymore.

BTW, there was another recurring motif that arose from my paralytic viewings during Western weekend.  Which is: badly injuring/maiming someone (especially if they're a significant cast member) but leaving them alive because "ahh, he can't hurt anybody now" or "if I see you again, I'll finish ya" is a big mistake.  Actually, my favorite scene in this category was from the otherwise forgettable movie WARLOCK, where a bad guy smashed Richard Widmark's hand but allows him to scuttle away because "that hand's not good for anything."  Yeah, buddy, but he's got two, and you don't need a lot of hand/eye coordination to toss a stick of dynamite or shove a shotgun (as opposed to a Colt 45) into somebody's face.  When I write my villain's handbook (right after I finish my collection of limericks involving guys named "Peter"), rule #1 is going to be, "if you've got a chance to finish off your deadliest opponent, do it, dumbshit!" Actually, maybe I should call that the Joe Kidd rule...

Besides the westerns, I spent a moment checking out the recent blu-ray release of TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2.  We're talking the 1987 Tobe Hooper film with Dennis Hopper, not the more recent remake(s).  This movie was more or less trashed at the time, but I think time has been kind and it has survived to be regarded as a truly creepy, unsettling and quite funny masterpiece.  And (*gasp*, prepare for the heresy) far more entertaining than the original.  The opening bridge chase scene between some gun toting college brats and a saw wielding Leatherface (hidden behind a mummified corpse) is jaw droppingly weird. Leatherface's brother "Chop-Top" is a supremely bizarre and totally original character, with his "Sonny Bono" wig, crappy teeth and a predilection for heating the tip of a coat hanger so he can scratch pieces of raw flesh (!) from around the plate in his skull (!!) and then nibble on the pieces (!!!). And then finally there's Dennis Hopper as "Lefty", the Texas lawman determined to bring the "Sawyer family" to justice, strapping two chainsaw holsters to his belt as he prepares to deliver righteousness.  This is about as deranged as it gets, and I doff my chapeau (sans coat hanger) to the old Cannon crew for financing this freak-show.

And now, play time is over!