Quantcast
Connect with us

Editorials

For Wes: Eulogy For A Friend

Published

on

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.

WesandMatt

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

20 Comments

Editorials

Revisiting ‘Subspecies’: The Gothic Horror Gem That Created an Unforgettable Vampire

Published

on

Auteur Filmmaking is a term that gets thrown around a lot these days in reference to big name directors like Quentin Tarantino and even Wes Anderson, but the truth is that film is a collective medium, and no one person can be responsible for every single aspect of a particular production. However, the smaller a film’s budget, the bigger the individual impact of every creative decision behind it – and the easier it becomes to identify a genuine auteur.

This isn’t necessarily a judgement of value, as blockbuster filmmaking comes with its own challenges and a good movie remains a miracle regardless of how big the crew is, but I’ve always been more interested in soulful b-movies produced by handfuls of passionate artists than blockbusters backed by creative armies.

That’s why I love exploring low-budget franchises that never left the hands of their original creators, as you really get to know the artists involved with these flicks and can accompany their evolution over a period of time. With that in mind, I’d like to invite readers to join me in this multi-part series as we look into a vampire saga helmed by one of the most fascinating auteurs of the 1990s. Naturally, I’m referring to Ted Nicolaou’s criminally underrated Subspecies!

The Birth of an Unlikely Horror Franchise

A proud graduate of the University of Texas’ Film program, Nicolaou got his start in the industry as a sound technician working on Tobe Hooper’s original Texas Chain Saw Massacre. From there, the filmmaker would go on to work for notorious indie producer Charles Band, the founder of both Empire Pictures and Full Moon Productions. According to Nicolaou, Band would usually contact him with an offer to direct a feature after more prominent filmmakers, such as the late, great Stuart Gordon, had already refused, meaning that his projects tended to have lower budgets and more inexperienced crew members.

The plans for Subspecies began almost immediately after the fall of Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu, with screenwriter David Pabian turning in an initial draft of the film after a Romanian producer contacted Band and explained that Romanian tax incentives could cover the cost of film production there so long as Full Moon took care of the post-production process. Since Stuart Gordon was unwilling to travel to Romania, Ted Nicolaou ended up taking over the picture.

However, while the financial incentives meant that this Romanian-American co-production could look and feel much more expensive than it really was, with Nicolaou scouting for locations in advance and selecting real castle ruins to be featured in the movie, the director was soon faced with an incredibly difficult shooting process. In interviews, Nicolaou would later describe the experience as something of a nightmare, with language barriers and the generalized distrust of capitalist outsiders sabotaging many of the team’s plans for the film.

In fact, the script, which had already been altered by Band, ultimately had portions of it rewritten by both Jack Canson and Nicolaou himself in an attempt to adapt the story to their unique limitations.

Radu Is One of Horror’s Greatest Underrated Villains

subspecies

In the finished film, which was released directly to video in 1991, we follow a pair of American anthropology students, Michelle (Laura Mae Tate) and Lillian (Michelle McBride), as they reunite with their Romanian colleague Mara (Irina Movila) in her native land. The group intends to study the folklore surrounding the secluded town of Prejmer, but their research is cut short by the return of Radu Vladislas (Anders Hove) – the evil son of a vampire king (Angus Scrimm) who had previously established a truce with the region’s human residents. It’s now up to Radu’s human-loving half-brother Stefan (Michael Watson) to protect the girls from a fate worse than death as the power-hungry vampire seeks to control a magical artifact known as the Bloodstone.

Right off the bat, you may have noticed that the film’s premise sounds decidedly old-fashioned when compared to other vampire movies from around the same time. While the 1990s saw the rise of cool-looking bloodsuckers with badass elements borrowed from Westerns, as well as the sexy aristocrats of Anne Rice’s stories, Subspecies has a lot more in common with Nosferatu and the Hammer Horror series than any of its contemporaries.

This is both a blessing and a curse, as the film falls victim to overly familiar genre tropes while also standing out as a rare example of a ’90s vampire flick that isn’t afraid to flex its muscles as a Creature Feature. In fact, I’d argue that the presence of age-old clichés is a small price to pay when confronted with one of the most compelling vampire antagonists in all of cinema.

Named after Vlad the Impaler’s real-life brother, Anders Hove’s Radu is such a fascinating character and the main reason why Subspecies is still worth watching 35 years later. From his animalistic mannerisms to the joy he feels in simply existing as a chaotic creature of the night, and that’s not even mentioning the iconic makeup that almost certainly inspired the undead from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Radu is a hypnotic presence harkening back to a time when audiences didn’t mind purely evil villains that couldn’t be redeemed through tragic backstories or sex appeal.

Gothic Atmosphere on an Indie Budget

Subspecies

Of course, the film’s Romanian setting and authentic art direction do a lot of the heavy lifting whenever Radu isn’t around. From the masked festivals of the village to the visually interesting selection of local extras, Subspecies’ multicultural elements help it to stand out when compared to similar flicks from the ’90s.

That being said, Nicolaou’s unique eye for special effects and exciting action sequences – as well as Vlad Paunescu’s excellent cinematography – make the movie a delight for fans of expressionist cinema and old-timey gothic horror. While the crew is obviously dealing with limited resources, many of the flick’s blemishes (such as the odd stop-motion demons that serve Radu) end up feeling more like charming idiosyncrasies than actual flaws.

I’d argue that the only real issue here is pacing, as there are long stretches of film where the protagonists are simply bumbling around without realizing what’s really going on around them. Thankfully, the gorgeous visuals and surprisingly effective soundtrack usually make up for this. Besides, how can you dislike a movie where shotgun shells are loaded with rosary beads and our lead vampires duke it out in a dramatic swordfight that would feel out of place during the golden age of Hollywood?

Your overall enjoyment of Subspecies will mostly depend on whether or not you find low-budget corner-cutting and janky practical effects charming rather than distracting, but I know I’ll keep coming back to this Full Moon feature again and again in the future.

That being said, while this first movie is worth revisiting by its own merits as the birth of an indie horror icon, I’d like to invite you to join us as we look into the cult sequel Bloodstone: Subspecies II soon.

Continue Reading