In Need of Inspiration

Well, gee, I'm sort of at a loss now that the Halloween Countdown is finished; I enjoyed having a focal point for Secret Mountain Laboratory. I debated participating in National Novel Writing Month, the 30-day marathon creative writing orgy, but the idea I had was already taken* and I'm just not ready to commit to ~1700 semi-coherent words a day for an entire month without some sort of outline in mind. Been there, done that, failed miserably.

There is something cool coming up later in November: the Boris Karloff Blogathon, which looks to be a lot of fun--

Beginning on November 23 — Karloff’s 122nd birthday — and on through the 29th, bloggers far and wide are invited to post something about Boris, his life and his wide-ranging career.

There is much to explore… His film work spanned five decades. He clocked some 75 films through the silent era before he landed and nailed the iconic part of The Monster in Frankenstein, a film that is almost 80 years old and still seen and admired. The sequel, The Bride of Frankenstein, is a motion picture classic. In his path through the history of horror films, Karloff collaborated with James Whale, Val Lewton, Mario Bava and Roger Corman. He proved equally at ease in all genres, including comedies.

Lots of participants listed!

In the meantime, what to write? What to write? Eventually I'll think of something (I always do), but in the meantime I'm open to suggestions. What do you want to read? What can you stand to read? Don't make me start writing some sort of half-assed memoir of my life as a Monster Kid.

Think about it. Post a comment. Help me out here.

*I had a GREAT idea for a mystery novel; unfortunately, as I began researching things I found someone had already written exactly the story I wanted to tell--Glint by Joseph Valentinetti, should you be interested. Such is life.

Dear Boris...

November 23, 1887 - February 2, 1969

My friend Sam and several bloggers beat me to it (here, for example), but I had to chime in anyway--today marks the 40th anniversary of the death of Boris Karloff.

Forty. Years. That's hard to believe.

The very first monster movie I ever saw was Son of Frankenstein (I was maybe 5 and, like many children, empathized with the monster), the very first issue of Famous Monsters of Filmland (#31, 1964) I ever bought featured Karloff on the cover as The Mummy, so he's been a part of my life for a very, very long time In fact, though I've had many Short Duration Personal Saviors, Boris has been for the long term.

By all accounts he was the complete opposite of the menacing, frightening characters he portrayed-- kind, generous, thoughtful, intelligent, professional, and above all, a consummate gentleman.

And children loved him.

Typical story (from here):
During the production of Frankenstein (1931) there was some concern that seven-year-old Marilyn Harris, who played Maria, the little girl thrown into the lake by the creature, would be overly frightened by the sight of Karloff in costume and make-up when it came time to shoot the scene. When the cast was assembled to travel to the location, Marilyn ran from her car directly up to Karloff, who was in full make-up and costume, took his hand and asked "May I drive with you?" Delighted, and in typical Karloff fashion, he responded, "Would you, darling?" She then rode to the location with "The Monster."

One of my favorite Karloff stories (though possibly apocryphal*) involves the play Arsenic and Old Lace. When approached for the role of Jonathan Brewster, Karloff initially turned it down, citing numerous prior commitments, his lack of theatrical experience, and his doubts at being able to succeed in a starring role on Broadway. Then the producers showed him a key piece of dialogue:

DR. EINSTEIN: You shouldn't have killed him, Chonny. He's a nice fellow--he gives us a lift--and what happens...? (gestures strangulation)

JONATHAN: He said I looked like Boris Karloff! That's your work, Doctor. You did that to me!

Boris took the part.

Tonight I say the same thing I said forty years ago--"Good night, Boris, wherever (and whatever) you are. Thanks for the frights!"



*Oops! Maybe not! See Boris Karloff: A Critical Account of His Screen, Stage, Radio, Television, and Recording Work by Scott Allen Nollen, Chapter 21.

Also Boris Karloff: A Gentleman's Life by Scott Allen Nollen and Dear Boris: The Life of William Henry Pratt a.k.a. Boris Karloff by Cynthia Lindsay

Halloween Post-Mortem

One would think, assuming you know me at all and, therefore, are aware that I am the consummate Halloween Junkie with fangs of candy corn and veins pulsing with pumpkin goo, that I would now regale you with tales of my most recent Samhain insanity, but you would be wrong.

Nope. It was, for the most part, a quiet and uneventful evening in the G. W. household.

I had originally intended to do a Halloween post wherein I acted as a sort of half-assed online DJ, inundating your poor computer screen with a slew of seasonally-appropriate YouTube links-- "Dinner With Drac" by John Zacherle, the obligatory "Monster Mash" (but a live version with both Bobby "Boris" Pickett and John Zacherle), "Werewolves of London" (also live, with a somewhat manic Warren Zevon), and so forth and so on, including what has to be the scariest music video of all time, Nina Hagen covering David Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust."

Didn't happen.

After a...trying...day at work I came home, cooked up some Ramen noodles (which, I guess, is pretty scary all by itself), took an extended nap, and, really, didn't do much of anything beyond channel-surfing, hoping for an Addams Family marathon or repeats of all the Roseanne Halloween specials.

No such luck.

However, at 10:00 p. m. Turner Classic Movies unexpectedly (to me) aired one of the classic horror films of all time, The Body Snatcher with Boris Karloff.

Ah, bliss! Moody, atmospheric, high contrast black & white goodness! No quirky-assed, be-gimmicked serial killers, no gallons of squirting blood 'n' gore, no on-screen decapitations, just the unnervingly quiet menace of Boris Karloff, who can utter even the most prosaic of lines ("Why, hello, Toddy!") and fill it with horrific nuance. When Bela Lugosi as "Joseph" attempts to blackmail Karloff's character, cabman John Gray, midway through the film...

Joseph: I know you kill people to sell bodies.
John Gray: You say you came here of your own account? No one sent you, no one knows you're here?
Joseph: Give me money or I tell the police that you murder the subjects.
John Gray: Well, Joseph, you shall have money, why should you not? I don't suppose the great Dr MacFarlane is over lavish with his pay?
Joseph: No.

...you know things aren't going to turn out well for poor Bela!*

And that was Halloween, 2007, safe and sane, quiet and uneventful, except for one little thing--

When I left for work the next morning I discovered that my front door had been covered with bloody (adult-sized) hand prints during the night.

And I still don't know to whom they belong.

Cue The Twilight Zone theme.



* In more ways than one. This was the last film Boris and Bela made together and Bela's role is a small one--his continuing drug use had taken its toll on both his looks and career.