After three prior trips, it pains me to say this: I can no longer recommend Chiller. Not in its present form. Not to anyone. I don’t care how brave or how prone to self abuse they are.
Minutes after my 1,600 mile flight from Dallas, I stood in an interminable line among the throngs who’d also flocked to New Jersey in hopes of eyeballing George Romero, Adam West, Barbara Eden or any of the other 100+ assembled B-luminaries. Everywhere I looked … chaos and bewildered-to-furious faces. "Is this the line?," someone would invariably ask. When they should’ve been asking, "Which line is this?"
There were dozens.
One to get a ticket. After that, another to enter the autograph tent. (The wait there ticked toward four hours on Saturday.) Once inside — assuming celebs weren’t still snoozing in their rooms or on a smoke break — one was treated to several "sub-lines" that, again, stretched outside the tent and into the October chill.
Wait! There’s still another line if you’d like to bask in the sprawling dealer rooms (or catch a panel discussion). That’s where I started and where I might still be standing if not for the kind indulgence of the Chiller staff. (Bless you, Shawn!)
Obviously, the leering (and whining) press has its perks, but what about everyone else? How happy can vendors be when the fire marshall only allows ticket holders to dribble in one and two at a time?
It’s rumored San Diego Comic-Con International topped 100,000 visitors this year, yet in stark comparison, it was the picture of organization. Adequate signage. Adequate staff. Adequate space. The latter is probably the Achilles’ heel of Chiller. In 15 years, it’s simply become too much of a ghoulishly good thing!
So, until they bug out of the Sheraton — a hotel best suited to host Bar Mitzvahs — Chiller is a rotting corpse in dire need of a spacious new convention-center style burial ground. They’d also do well to put The Animal on a leash. That lunatic with a megaphone may be a giggle, but he’s hardly an effective means of crowd control.
End of rant.
Blood Trilogy anniversary
download mp3 (39 min, 22 mb)
Ah, here’s what made it all worthwhile for this gorehound! A once-in-a-lifetime Blood Feast reunion: The Godfather of Gore himself, Herschell Gordon Lewis. His partner in crime, Dave Friedman. Would be Ishtar sacrifice, Connie Mason. And horror’s very first grueslinger, Mal Arnold as Fuad Ramses! In this schlockcast, listen as the four ghouls of honor mark The Blood Trilogy‘s 40th anniversary with colorful yarns from yesteryear and field questions from a new generation of schlockmeisters.
Afterward, yours truly moseyed over to the autograph tent for an audience with my friend and hero, The Godfather of Gore. Visiting with Herschell is always such a joy. It was especially great to hear him beam over Grim Fairy Tales. (More on that in a sec.)
I then stepped away to gush over the goreteur for a documentary Jimmy Maslon’s working on. Says to look for it next year — maybe even on The Discovery Channel.
Now I didn’t lug two prized posters all this way for nothing, so I pestered Ms. Mason to sign them. True to reputation, she was quite the pistol and 86’d my fussy desire to have her use the same pen Dave and Herschell had. Instead, as I carefully spelled my name aloud — N-O-E-L. You know, like Christmas — she sweetly scrawled on my Two Thousand Maniacs! poster:
Blessings Love and Hugs
Your Playmate Connie Mason
June ’63
Charming. Thankfully, a simple "Connie Mason" sufficed for my original Blood Feast one sheet. She then informed me they’d be $35 a pop. Ouch! That’s when I called Fuad over.
Mr. Arnold’s a gent. He got a hoot out of my favorite Fuad frame grab I had printed as an 8×10. Gladly personalized it. Admired and signed my Blood Feast poster too! Told me how he used to have one — until he loaned it to a friend. Oh, by the way, Mal reluctantly accepted $5 for two autographs. What a pleasure!
A huge THANK YOU! to Something Weird Video and Chiller for teaming to celebrate this auspicious anniversary with such a rapturous reunion. And how ’bout that eye-popper of a freebie poster!?!
Grim Fairy Tales
Herschell shoo’d me back up to the dealer rooms to meet Andrew Allan and Andy Lalino of Film State 51. Turns out I already knew them through their shocker short Filthy. (Andy’s even an avowed CineSchlocker!) The longer we chatted, the higher I started to hover off the ground as they told me about their plans to lens Herschell’s pet project — Grim Fairy Tales!
"We signed the option deal this morning," Andrew explained. "We’re going to start producing it right away. It’s a feature-length project based on the script Herschell wrote. Herschell will be directing. We’re going to produce it for him. So, it should be a good team."
The Florida-based filmmakers first hooked up with Lewis through another flick they’re developing called Back in Blood: Revenge of the Gore-Crazed Maniacs, which assembles an all-star cast of the goreteur’s most notorious bloodletters: Fuad Ramses, Montag the Magnificent, Adam Sorg and the undersung Gruesome Twosome. But it appears Back in Blood will have to wait now that Herschell and the fellas are itching to get Grim as soon as this winter. Stay tuned!
Oh, they’re also working with CineSchlocker idol Bill Grefe on a remake of his lost film The Devil’s Sisters. My kind of people!
Signing tent
"If you can’t find a friend — make one."
Actually, I made two! Enchantress Angela Bettis and director Lucky McKee of May. Lots going on with these two. Lucky is just off Showtime’s Masters of Horror where he subbed for a sidelined Roger Corman. While Angela recently directed Lucky in the title role of Roman — an upcoming companion piece to May! (Excuse me while I squeal like a giddy school girl!) Speaking of, Lucky’s next feature, The Woods, takes place at an all-girls boarding school.
Nearby, everyman auteur George Romero greeted the masses. As did every zombie who ever noshed a brainpan in one of his pictures. At 20 bucks a head, that’s nearly $480,000 by my count. Too rich for me, so I just gawked.
Told Eugene Clark how much I loved Big Daddy in Land of the Dead. (That’s free.) Nodded knowingly at Howard "Bub" Sherman of Day of the Dead. (Not a cent.) Smiled at Gaylen Ross of Dawn of the Dead and Judith O’Dea of Night of the Living Dead. (Also free.)
Couldn’t resist getting J.R. Ewing’s autograph. (It’s actually a Christmas gift.) I’d show you a picture of my grinning mug alongside Mr. Hagman, but that would’ve been an extra $10. He’s a busy man, don’t you know.
Told Courtney Gains how criminal it was that Hardbodies isn’t available on DVD yet. He wholeheartedly agreed. But the coolest cat of ’em all? Fred "The Hammer" Williamson!
Other celeb sightings: Adrienne Barbeau, Robert Culp, Bill Daily, Gates McFadden (who’s stunning in person), Elvira, Keven Sorbo, Burt Ward, Darian Caine, Warwick Davis, Leslie Easterbrook, David Emge, Mark Goddard, Stuart Gordon, John Landis (who’s sort of an obnoxious loud mouth), Betsy Palmer (Jason’s mom!), Steve Railsback, Tom Savini, Dwight Schultz, Seka, Tiffany Shepis and two Why-are-they-here? nominees … Tonya Harding (Yes, her!) and Survivor: Australia‘s Jerri Manthey (Great hair!)
Dealer delirium
Maybe I should thank them. Being fleeced by J.R. and Connie Mason probably curbed my spending among the miles of dealer tables. I lingered over of NECA’s prototypes for upcoming Cult Classics figures — featuring Dawn of the Dead‘s Flyboy and Bubba Ho-Tep himself! They say we can expect Bruce Campbell as Elvis in the next wave! Forgot to ask if the elder "E" will come with a walker — or whether he’ll be paired with Ossie Davis as JFK. In stores now are The Tall Man and a fresh Leatherface.
It was also cool to see how Anchor Bay packages some of its foreign DVD releases. Phantasm in a silver sphere of death. Hellraiser in a jumbo puzzle box. Probably did my biggest double-take at the Krypt Kiddies booth, though. So that’s how John Wayne Gacy looked as a baby!?!
Final thought
As I ranted before, with the dealer rooms effectively on lock down all Saturday afternoon, it was actually pretty easy for the leering press to speedily survey the available goodies. On previous trips — 2001, 2002, 2003 — I’d exhausted every moment of the 3-day convention. But I’d had it after almost six hours of the unorganized endurance challenge Chiller’s become. Not even their legendary costume contest could keep me from beating feet outta there.
For fans’ sake, let’s hope Chiller returns as the world’s premiere horror convention — and not just a horror.