Rumored to have been kicked off a Broadway production for upstaging Mae West and a muse to the infamous Ed Wood in his film Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959), even non-horror fans can recognize her trademark black talons, arched eyebrows and wasp-thin waist. Her persona, modeled after Charles Addams' Morticia, would appear again in the 1980s in the form of Elvira.
Purported to be the world's first horror host, her influence on horror and television is still being felt today, helping to usher the first wave of 1930s American horror to new audiences. What resulted was a renaissance of horror that further established the genre as an everyday part of American life. And to that, we owe her a debt of gratitude for her part in the movement.
So there's a little bit of horror film-related wonderfulness happening close to home.
I have the proud distinction of being a University of Wisconsin - Whitewater alumni, Class of 2007. Whitewater's a great little town in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by cornfields and cow pastures and sheep farms. The kind of town you can walk around at three in the morning and feel completely safe (as I have done on several occasions), but basically shuts down after nine pm (except for the bars, of course, though there aren't too many). Typical small college town.
Except that they call Whitewater the "Second Salem" for all the *supposed* occult happenings around town. Except that people hear whispers in the woods, drums at midnight. Except that corpses end up on hall steps, witch towers are the places of hangings, evil books cause madness, and the specters of axe murderers haunt dormitory halls.
So they say.
The reason I'm bringing it up is that Whitewater has served as the basis for a new horror movie called The Witches of Whitewater (2008) that is meant to be filmed in town. Can we say awesomeness? Way to go, Wisconsin filmmakers!
Doesn't hurt that Wisconsin has just passed legislation making film making very cheap and profitable in good old WI. In addition, Marcus Theaters has just signed an agreement to run Wisconsin films theatrically in their large chain of theaters. When a WI filmmaker once had to hustle to get a film shown on the big screen (Hello, Mike Borchardt!) now it's easier than ever to make a movie that can get funded and seen. Almost makes me want to pick up a camera, only I have no film making experience. Or talent. Or inclination. No sir, I'll just to stick to what I know.
This isn't Wisconsin's - or even Jefferson County's first foray into Wisconsin-flavored horror. The Beast of Bray Road (2005), the "stinky cinematic suppository"(to quote MST3K) was chronicled in the "based on true events" story of Bray Road's werewolf creature that purportedly stalks the lonely highway at night. About fifteen minutes away from Whitewater, the Beast is a favorite scare for Whitewater students, who drive out to the road on Halloween in hopes of catching sight of the huge werewolf. The legend, which has been the subject of books and cable documentaries, is awesome, and worthy of your time. The movie is not. It's a waste of time, money, and the irrevocably lost precious moments of your life. Blech.
For all you who would like to know more about the Second Salem and my prestigious alma mater, you can read a story by our college paper detailing Whitewater's local legends (P.S. the dead girl on the mall is absolutely true. Weird, huh?) here.
More Whitewater legends can be found hereand here. And some Beast of Bray Road stuff here. Knock yourself out. Wisconsin is full of creepy shit. It's the most haunted state in the Union for good reason. The only way I can survive is my blatant, pig-headed refusal to believe any of the weird stuff that happens here. Doesn't always work, but what can you do?
In fact, all of Wisconsin's weirdness has a website. See it here.
TCM and Martin Scorsese have made a documentary about the life and times of horror producer Val Lewton, famous for such classic pictures as Cat People (1942) and The Leopard Man (1943). Great films, great plots, great acting.
I can't even begin to say how excellent this film is: beautifully directed by Jacques Tourneur, beautifully shot with all the ethereal resonance of a pre-Raphaelite painting; there is something truly mythic about this film. Maybe it's the eternal paradox of moral ambiguity the film presents: is it possible to view the world in terms of black and white, good and evil, pagan and Christian, the colonizer and the colonized? Or is it, as I suspect Tourneur and Lewton argued, simply varying shades of grey?
Is Jessica a zombie? A mental case?
Is Betsy's unrelenting zeal to heal Jessica a sign of he overwhelmingly good heart? Or a symptom of her sad, misguided oppression?
Who knows? I don't even think Lewton could - or would even want to - answer that question. As a witness of WWII, I'm sure Lewton could attest to the moral ambiguities of war-time everyday life where "good" people suddenly found themselves doing bad things just to stay alive. To Lewton, I suspect the world was entirely grey.
Regardless of his philosophical leanings, Lewton's films are finally enjoying the recognition they deserve.
Watch Scorsese's documentary Monday night at 7:00pm central on TCM.
And now, in order to pay my part of the YouTube Friday bargain, the salacious trailer for I Walked With a Zombie:
Believe it or not, I Walked With a Zombie was loosely based on the Charlotte Bronte Gothic chiller, Jane Eyre.
What? You thought Jane Eyre was just one of those stuffy "classics" you read in English? Hells no! There's enough Gothic in this crazy drama to shake a stick at. Hmm....let's see. A mysterious evil woman. A drafty, foreboding house. A brooding, Byronic hero. A madwoman in the attic. Madness. Despair. Grievous bodily harm. Fires. Barely suppressed sexuality. Heaving bosoms. The list goes on and on.
So in honor of the Jane Eyre Gothic tradition and in celebration of the BBC's excellent new adaptation of said masterpiece, might I present to you, good sirs and ladies, Miss Jane Eyre?
Horror Icon Vampira has passed.
