Editorials
For Wes: Eulogy For A Friend
Sunday evening, after learning of Wes Craven’s passing, the first thing I knew I needed to do was check in with my dear friend, Matt Cunningham, someone who had a special bond with Mr. Craven. As I checked in with him, I learned that he had started writing an email to Wes, even though he knew he’d never see it. I thought it was only appropriate to give Matt an outlet to say goodbye to his friend and to give Craven fans a peek at the man that he knew. Thank you for giving us this glimpse into the master of horror, Matt.
I was thirteen years old when I first saw A Nightmare on Elm Street. I was terrified. The only other film at the time that twisted me into knots was Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It wasn’t long after seeing Elm Street that I came down with a 103 fever and started hearing the screeching of metal claws outside my window. I woke up, ran to the patio door and carefully peeked out. I knew if I saw Freddy I was going to lose my mind. I told my mom that I heard something outside. I may have said “Someone is moving the furniture.” I didn’t want to say I thought it was Freddy because she would tell me I need to stop watching scary movies. Just like Tina’s mother did in the film. Irony.
But my fear became obsession and I couldn’t get enough of Freddy. My walls were plastered with posters. My shelves had dolls and bubblegum containers with Krueger’s image (which I still have today). He was my monster and I had to know everything about him. Who was the mad genius behind this film? How did they make it? And that was my introduction to Wes Craven.
From that point I was hooked. Anything Wes was doing, I was in. There are a few films that changed my life and made me want to be a filmmaker. Elm Street was one of them. That’s exactly what I told Mr. Craven the first time I met him. He could have said he heard that all the time – which I’m sure he did – but he didn’t, he just listened and said he was thankful. I’ve met several of my filmmaking heroes and inspirations on my journey, but none of them, not a one, were as amazing as Wes.
That first conversation started as an interview for my column in Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine. From there we continued to talk over email. Eventually it led to a friendly breakfast, and then another breakfast and another and so on. We talked about movies and life and it wasn’t just about a fanboy sitting in front of his hero grilling him about Freddy (believe me, I wanted to at times) but it was about two people sitting and sharing a meal. That was the amazing thing about him, he was kind, generous with his time, and had a great sense of humor.
I’ll never forget the day he wanted to go to Norm’s for breakfast because he loved to people watch there. It was good people watching, he was right about that. I ordered a pancake platter and he got the steak and eggs. Then he told me he was sick. He was battling cancer. I was speechless. I wanted to scream, cry, and be angry at everything in that moment. But I know he didn’t want me to feel sorry for him and I wasn’t going to. Instead I said, “You got this.” He did his treatments and he was doing better. We didn’t talk about it much. Breakfast time was for conversations about other things. He quietly shared with me so many projects he had in the works and the projects that never came to fruition. Even he had rejections. But he was excited about People Under the Stairs going to series and so many other things coming up. He talked about not directing anymore and I said he couldn’t do that, for selfish reasons of course. I think we all would agree with that.
One of my favorite memories was sitting with him at a screening of Children of Men, a movie he loved, and it was the first time I had ever seen it. I think he loved that he was able to share this movie with my virgin eyes. As the lights dimmed we shared a tub of popcorn and laughed and gasped at the astounding moments in the movie. I was in awe. Sitting with a master filmmaker giving me commentary while watching another master filmmaker is… well, there are no words. There are times in your life when you have to step back and ask your thirteen year old self “Can you really believe what you are doing right now?!” Not in a million years would I ever think it was possible.
It’s amazing where life takes you. Because of Wes I wanted to make monster movies and I’ve been lucky enough to make a couple and now I’m more determined to reach higher and do better – because I know he would. He was a master of his craft, he reinvented horror and himself on several occasions. He was a great human and a great filmmaker – highly underrated if you ask me.
On Sunday I lost a friend and a hero. Iya lost a husband and his children and grandkids lost their patriarch. We all lost an inspiration and a giant in this business. My first reaction was to email him and tell him how I felt. I know he would never get to read it but it’s all I wanted to do, hoping it wasn’t true. I wanted him to know what he meant to me. Since I won’t get that chance, I hope you’ll allow me to share some of it here.
Wes,
I will forever cherish the time you spent with me. The breakfasts and the films. I’ll never forget the time you wanted to scare me while we watched The Conjuring in the theater and then later laughed about it. I will never be able to thank you enough for the support you gave me when my first book was coming out. You were a great cheerleader and so generous when you didn’t have to be. It was an extremely great honor to be in your company. I will miss picking out a place to have breakfast and I will miss your stories. Most of all I will miss you being there, as a person, just talking.
For all of your fans out there, I want them to know you were the real deal.
I’m raising this cup of coffee and sitting in this booth alone in your honor. What you gave me is priceless.
Goodbye, my inspiration, my friend,
Matt
Editorials
‘The Vampire Lestat’ Concert Event Launches New Season With The Ultimate Expression Of Fandom
There are thousands of passionate fans decked out in gothic chic and champing at the bit like feral creatures. They’re screaming for Lestat, a legendary vampire-turned-rock star, as if the entire crowd has been glamored into submission.
The entire experience is magic, but not because some supernatural thrall has been activated. What’s going on is even more special. It’s the power of the effusive fandom that’s been authentically assembled by AMC’s sublime Immortal Universe, namely Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire, now, The Vampire Lestat.
The Vampire Lestat is far from the first Anne Rice adaptation, and it’s not as if there’s been a lack of erotic vampire material for audiences to sink their teeth into. On June 2nd, during a one-night-only spectacle, New York City’s prestigious Beacon Theatre shook from Sam Reid’s bravado performance and an audience full of adoring fans who had already memorized Lestat’s songs.
It’s clear that The Vampire Lestat just hits differently than its predecessors. It’s become more than just a TV series at this point, and this opulent display of ego, swagger, and pure sex is the perfect way to premiere the new season and give back to the fans who helped make Interview with the Vampire/The Vampire Lestat such a breakout success. It’s exactly the sort of hyperbolized hedonism that would make Lestat cackle.
For all intents and purposes, AMC has successfully created the illusion that this concert/premiere is just one of the many destinations on Lestat and his band’s 54-stop tour that is simultaneously playing out on this season of television. It’s such a sophisticated and thorough level of interactive fan engagement that the audience doesn’t just understand, but also manages to accentuate through its involvement.
It’s a level of seamless synergy that’s not unlike the give-and-take relationship of vampire and victim.
Before the concert started, “LeStans” were sitting in the Beacon and flipping through a fake Rolling Stone issue with Lestat emblazoned on the cover, complete with interviews with the undead frontman inside. Other fans were admiring the vinyl pressing of Lestat’s EP as they walked past a section of undead band merch. Fandom and fantasy blur together, and it all becomes this elaborate, immersive experience. Fan celebration, erotic gothic fantasy, and a lavish rock concert transform into one beautiful thing.
To this point, AMC Global Media’s Chief Content Officer and President of AMC Studios, Dan McDermott, introduced the event by reiterating to fans, “You are the heartbeat of the series.” That’s abundantly clear on nights like this as that heartbeat collectively pulses to this performance. In terms of how AMC engages with The Vampire Lestat’s fans, it’s as bold a reinvention as the season itself.
This intuitive gamble speaks to AMC’s creativity in this department and a fandom that is eager to seize such opportunities. It’s the same innovation that led to zombie walks for The Walking Dead and real-life Los Pollos Hermanos restaurant pop-ups from Breaking Bad. It’s a great way to pump up the audience for The Vampire Lestat and then maintain that enthusiasm for the whole season.
For most series, a rock ‘n’ roll concert just doesn’t make any sense as a promotional tool. The Vampire Lestat finds itself in a very unique position where it can deliver an excellent concert at an iconic theater, but also use it to showcase The Vampire Lestat’s music by Daniel Hart (who was shredding on stage alongside Reid and the rest of their band) and, more than anything, Sam Reid’s endless charisma.
The way in which Reid feeds off of the crowd’s energy, modulating his performance and giving different sections of the Beacon life, is a perfect distillation of the series’ thoughtful relationship with its audience and how it’s become such a breakout success for AMC. AMC Studios President Dan McDermott emphasized that the fans are the reason that the show is still here and why an event like this is even possible. It’s rare to see a series in which every single cog in the machine is so perfectly attuned to its fans. Reid’s fans already cheer whenever they see him, so why not translate that to a concert setting?
It’s clear in this season of television that Reid was born to be a rock star, but it’s surreal to see him effortlessly command the stage — and the audience — at every step of the concert. He recites Shakespeare monologues and bitches out Armand between songs, all while the audience screams in support. For the duration of this concert, Reid is Lestat, and he’s given thousands of fans a memory that’s as immortal as any vampire.
Now bring on the encore and get this show on the road!
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