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Svengoolie is Still Keeping the Tradition of the Horror Host Alive After All These Years

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If you’re a horror fan and you grew up in Chicago, the horror host known as Svengoolie is probably partly responsible for your love of the genre. I know he is for mine. I was born just outside Chicago and have lived here my entire life, and Svengoolie has been a fixture on local television for nearly all of it. He didn’t necessarily introduce me to horror, but over the years he has certainly played a number of roles in my relationship to it: he has been a teacher, a funny friend (albeit one whom I’ve never met), a comforting presence on a Saturday night. As far as being a Monster Kid is concerned, I can think of few figures who have meant more.

The tradition of the horror host – someone who would appear, usually in costume, at the beginning and end of a movie broadcast, often making corny jokes about whatever was being shown that week – dates back nearly to the earliest airings of horror movies on TV. The most famous of them all is still Elvira, but there are dozens of others who were beloved in their own local markets: there was Vampira and Zacherley and Ghoulardi (played by the father of writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson) and Count Gore Del Vol and Chilly Billy and on and on. Every city had their horror host. Svengoolie was ours. At a time when most of the other horror hosts have retired or been canceled or even passed away, Svengoolie is still going strong. He’s still our horror host in Chicago, and when his weekly series on MeTV went national back in 2011, he became the country’s horror host, too.

I didn’t grow up on the OG Svengoolie. He was before my time. Jerry Bishop originated the character and played him (with a Transylvanian accent and everything) on TV from its debut in 1970 until 1973, when the show was cancelled for six years until it was revived in 1979, with former staff writer-turned-host Rich Koz taking over as the Son of Svengoolie. This was the version of the show on which I grew up, tuning in every Saturday afternoon in the mid-‘80s to Chicago’s WFLD to watch the Son of Svengoolie hosting movies like Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster and Revenge of the Creature and War Gods of the Deep and the original Universal classics like Dracula and The Wolf Man. In the days before these movies were readily available on home video – or even before my family owned a VCR on which to play them – Son of Svengoolie introduced me to the films that would help shape me as a horror fan forever.

Son of Svengoolie was pulled off the air in 1986 when WFLD sold to Fox, but Rich Koz remained a fixture of Chicago TV and of my childhood, hosting kids’ shows like The Koz Zone and anchoring the local news for a time. He was always a part of my life in some way. When he put the makeup back on in 1994 and returned to TV as Svengoolie – having finally dropped the “Son of” moniker with the blessing of Jerry Bishop – it was a big deal for me. When I was a kid, watching monster movies on Svengoolie was considered cute by those around me, but by ’94 I was no longer at an age where watching monster movies and horror hosts was thought to be “cute.” That was ok. It left me with a choice: appear cool to my classmates, or continue to watch horror and be happy. It’s the choice that many a fan has faced at some point in his or her life, and the way we choose helps define who we are as a person. Svengoolie helped keep me on the path of being a devoted horror fan. But as the genre continues to dominate TV and clean up at the box office in 2018, loving horror is finally considered cool thanks to sites like this and people like Svengoolie, who has helped carry the torch for nearly 40 years.

The thing about Svengoolie is this: he’s so uncool that he’s cool. His jokes are incredibly corny. His set is sparse, his show cheaply produced in such a way that it’s not too far off from a public access production. There’s nothing edgy or hip about him, but because he has remained true to himself year after year – the show is the show is the show – he has circled back around to being hip again. He exists in a space that is free of irony. He has nothing but affection for these movies and doesn’t present them in a mocking way, even if he does make jokes about them. Plus, the show is hipster proof; they can’t make fun of anything about Svengoolie that the show isn’t already making fun of about themselves first. Svengoolie doesn’t care about being cool. He just wants to entertain us, to make us laugh, and to celebrate monster movies, reminding us lifelong fans why we love this stuff and introducing a new generation of would-be horror nerds to movies they’re discovering, as I did, through his show. I can’t think of anything cooler than that.

Lately I’ve been watching Svengoolie with my own son, and the opportunity to share with him something that meant so much to me when I was his age is one I don’t take for granted. It’s too soon to tell whether or not it’s helping turn him into a horror fan, but at the very least it affords me a chance to share my own love of the genre with him so that even if he never goes crazy for monster movies, at least he’ll know why his dad does. I’m not sure I could convince him to sit down and watch The Blob or 20 Million Miles from Earth with me if I just asked nicely, but when I frame it as “Hey, want to watch Svengoolie?” he gets on board. Maybe he’s just doing it to humor me. Or maybe, just maybe, there’s something about all of the hosting segments and jokes and rubber chicken throwing that makes the movies feel safer for him, so he’s more willing to watch. Whatever the case, Svengoolie is responsible for creating new Monster Kids week after week, year after year. For this reason alone, the show is a gift.

I don’t know how much longer we’re going to have Svengoolie to watch on Saturday nights. Rich Koz is just a few years shy of turning 70. He has been performing as Svengoolie for the better part of the last four decades. Sooner or later, he’s going to retire, and that realization makes me almost impossibly sad. He’s one of the last remaining horror hosts in the country, and currently has no clear successor as far as I know. That means when he goes, the tradition of the horror host and a television institution goes with him. And while Rich Koz deserves to retire whenever he sees fit, I’m not ready to say goodbye. I never will be. He’s been a part of my life for so long, I can’t imagine it without him. To be honest, I really don’t want to.

Please, Svengoolie, please never leave us. Young and old alike, Monster Kids everywhere need you.

Editorials

‘Amityville Karen’ Is a Weak Update on ‘Serial Mom’ [Amityville IP]

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Amityville Karen horror

Twice a month Joe Lipsett will dissect a new Amityville Horror film to explore how the “franchise” has evolved in increasingly ludicrous directions. This is “The Amityville IP.”

A bizarre recurring issue with the Amityville “franchise” is that the films tend to be needlessly complicated. Back in the day, the first sequels moved away from the original film’s religious-themed haunted house storyline in favor of streamlined, easily digestible concepts such as “haunted lamp” or “haunted mirror.”

As the budgets plummeted and indie filmmakers capitalized on the brand’s notoriety, it seems the wrong lessons were learned. Runtimes have ballooned past the 90-minute mark and the narratives are often saggy and unfocused.

Both issues are clearly on display in Amityville Karen (2022), a film that starts off rough, but promising, and ends with a confused whimper.

The promise is embodied by the tinge of self-awareness in Julie Anne Prescott (The Amityville Harvest)’s screenplay, namely the nods to John Waters’ classic 1994 satire, Serial Mom. In that film, Beverly Sutphin (an iconic Kathleen Turner) is a bored, white suburban woman who punished individuals who didn’t adhere to her rigid definition of social norms. What is “Karen” but a contemporary equivalent?

In director/actor Shawn C. Phillips’ film, Karen (Lauren Francesca) is perpetually outraged. In her introductory scenes, she makes derogatory comments about immigrants, calls a female neighbor a whore, and nearly runs over a family blocking her driveway. She’s a broad, albeit familiar persona; in many ways, she’s less of a character than a caricature (the living embodiment of the name/meme).

These early scenes also establish a fairly straightforward plot. Karen is a code enforcement officer with plans to shut down a local winery she has deemed disgusting. They’re preparing for a big wine tasting event, which Karen plans to ruin, but when she steals a bottle of cursed Amityville wine, it activates her murderous rage and goes on a killing spree.

Simple enough, right?

Unfortunately, Amityville Karen spins out of control almost immediately. At nearly every opportunity, Prescott’s screenplay eschews narrative cohesion and simplicity in favour of overly complicated developments and extraneous characters.

Take, for example, the wine tasting event. The film spends an entire day at the winery: first during the day as a band plays, then at a beer tasting (???) that night. Neither of these events are the much touted wine-tasting, however; that is actually a private party happening later at server Troy (James Duval)’s house.

Weirdly though, following Troy’s death, the party’s location is inexplicably moved to Karen’s house for the climax of the film, but the whole event plays like an afterthought and features a litany of characters we have never met before.

This is a recurring issue throughout Amityville Karen, which frequently introduces random characters for a scene or two. Karen is typically absent from these scenes, which makes them feel superfluous and unimportant. When the actress is on screen, the film has an anchor and a narrative drive. The scenes without her, on the other hand, feel bloated and directionless (blame editor Will Collazo Jr., who allows these moments to play out interminably).

Compounding the issue is that the majority of the actors are non-professionals and these scenes play like poorly performed improv. The result is long, dull stretches that features bad actors talking over each other, repeating the same dialogue, and generally doing nothing to advance the narrative or develop the characters.

While Karen is one-note and histrionic throughout the film, at least there’s a game willingness to Francesca’s performance. It feels appropriately campy, though as the film progresses, it becomes less and less clear if Amityville Karen is actually in on the joke.

Like Amityville Cop before it, there are legit moments of self-awareness (the Serial Mom references), but it’s never certain how much of this is intentional. Take, for example, Karen’s glaringly obvious wig: it unconvincingly fails to conceal Francesca’s dark hair in the back, but is that on purpose or is it a technical error?

Ultimately there’s very little to recommend about Amityville Karen. Despite the game performance by its lead and the gentle homages to Serial Mom’s prank call and white shoes after Labor Day jokes, the never-ending improv scenes by non-professional actors, the bloated screenplay, and the jittery direction by Phillips doom the production.

Clocking in at an insufferable 100 minutes, Amityville Karen ranks among the worst of the “franchise,” coming in just above Phillips’ other entry, Amityville Hex.

Amityville Karen

The Amityville IP Awards go to…

  • Favorite Subplot: In the afternoon event, there’s a self-proclaimed “hot boy summer” band consisting of burly, bare-chested men who play instruments that don’t make sound (for real, there’s no audio of their music). There’s also a scheming manager who is skimming money off the top, but that’s not as funny.
  • Least Favorite Subplot: For reasons that don’t make any sense, the winery is also hosting a beer tasting which means there are multiple scenes of bartender Alex (Phillips) hoping to bring in women, mistakenly conflating a pint of beer with a “flight,” and goading never before seen characters to chug. One of them describes the beer as such: “It looks like a vampire menstruating in a cup” (it’s a gold-colored IPA for the record, so…no).
  • Amityville Connection: The rationale for Karen’s killing spree is attributed to Amityville wine, whose crop was planted on cursed land. This is explained by vino groupie Annie (Jennifer Nangle) to band groupie Bianca (Lilith Stabs). It’s a lot of nonsense, but it is kind of fun when Annie claims to “taste the damnation in every sip.”
  • Neverending Story: The film ends with an exhaustive FIVE MINUTE montage of Phillips’ friends posing as reporters in front of terrible green screen discussing the “killer Karen” story. My kingdom for Amityville’s regular reporter Peter Sommers (John R. Walker) to return!
  • Best Line 1: Winery owner Dallas (Derek K. Long), describing Karen: “She’s like a walking constipation with a hemorrhoid”
  • Best Line 2: Karen, when a half-naked, bleeding woman emerges from her closet: “Is this a dream? This dream is offensive! Stop being naked!”
  • Best Line 3: Troy, upset that Karen may cancel the wine tasting at his house: “I sanded that deck for days. You don’t just sand a deck for days and then let someone shit on it!”
  • Worst Death: Karen kills a Pool Boy (Dustin Clingan) after pushing his head under water for literally 1 second, then screeches “This is for putting leaves on my plants!”
  • Least Clear Death(s): The bodies of a phone salesman and a barista are seen in Karen’s closet and bathroom, though how she killed them are completely unclear
  • Best Death: Troy is stabbed in the back of the neck with a bottle opener, which Karen proceeds to crank
  • Wannabe Lynch: After drinking the wine, Karen is confronted in her home by Barnaby (Carl Solomon) who makes her sign a crude, hand drawn blood contract and informs her that her belly is “pregnant from the juices of his grapes.” Phillips films Barnaby like a cross between the unhoused man in Mulholland Drive and the Mystery Man in Lost Highway. It’s interesting, even if the character makes absolutely no sense.
  • Single Image Summary: At one point, a random man emerges from the shower in a towel and excitedly poops himself. This sequence perfectly encapsulates the experience of watching Amityville Karen.
  • Pray for Joe: Many of these folks will be back in Amityville Shark House and Amityville Webcam, so we’re not out of the woods yet…

Next time: let’s hope Christmas comes early with 2022’s Amityville Christmas Vacation. It was the winner of Fangoria’s Best Amityville award, after all!

Amityville Karen movie

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