Editorials
[It Came From the ‘80s] Bringing Stephen King’s Rabid ‘Cujo’ to Life
Leave it to Stephen King to take otherwise benign things like a Plymouth Fury or loveable Saint Bernard and turn them into objects of unrelenting terror. When you think of the word monster, you usually picture something much more frightening and supernatural, but in the ‘80s (and the hands of King) anything could be a monster. Including a rabid dog.
The setup is simple; the Camber family dog gets bitten by a rabid bat while chasing a rabbit one day. Joe Camber happens to be the Trenton family’s car mechanic, and their Ford Pinto is on the fritz. The Pinto is the least of the Trenton’s concerns, though, as wife Donna (Dee Wallace) has been having an affair with a former high school sweetheart. It adds further stress to her husband Vic (Daniel Hugh-Helly), who’s dealing with severe pressures with work. Naturally, their young son Tad (Danny Pintauro) is caught in the middle. All of that pales in comparison to the horror of Donna having to fight for her and her son’s life when the Pinto strands them at the Cambers’ place with their homicidal, rabid beast of a dog while Vic is away on business.
While Cujo as we know it is filled with suspense and anguish, we very nearly received a drastically different take. Director Peter Medak (The Changeling), along with his Changeling screenwriter Barbara Turner, sought to hone in on the supernatural elements from King’s novel. In the novel, young Tad is plagued by nightmarish visions of a monster in his closet long before he encounters Cujo. Turner’s script focused on that part, and would’ve had the ghostly apparition possess Cujo. Two days into filming, though, well into an elaborate shoot with complicated angles, producer Dan Blatt’s patience wore thin and he fired Medak along with D.P. Tony Richmond. King recommended director Lewis Teague, having been impressed with his previous film Alligator. Then the subsequent co-screenwriter, Don Carlos Dunaway, cut out anything pertaining to the supernatural. Between this move and Medak’s termination, Turner became so infuriated she insisted her credit on the film be a pseudonym.
Teague’s experience on Alligator, in which he had to shoot around a 26-foot long rubber alligator that didn’t work as it was supposed to as well as real alligators on miniature sets, meant he was well suited to working with not so cooperative animal-based movie monsters. For Cujo, he used a variety of techniques. There were six actual Saint Bernards, each one trained to handle a specific task. Some lunged, some barked on command, and some simply ran for a distance. They’re not an easy breed to train, and dog trainer Karl Miller initially tried to persuade Teague to go with an alternate breed. Despite the menacing nature of Cujo, many of these dogs couldn’t stop wagging their tails (and had to be strapped down as a result). But Teague’s direction means you luckily don’t notice this much on screen unless you’re looking for it specifically.
There were also mechanical Saint Bernards, and mechanical dog heads – created by special visual effects makeup artist Peter Knowlton – to handle the more dangerous stuff like the shots that had Cujo ramming his head into the car. And of course, stunt man Gary Morgan also doubled for Cujo in certain scenes. Teague even had a backup dog suit for a Labrador, but it ultimately went unneeded.
Teague wasn’t done working with animals in horror, either; his follow up film to Cujo was Stephen King anthology Cat’s Eye. From alligators, to dogs, to cats, Teague might be the reigning champ of animal horror of the ‘80s. As for Cujo, his decision to scrap the supernatural might ruffle the feathers of die-hard Constant Readers, but it made the Trenton family’s fight for survival much more harrowing in its realness. Donna and Tad have to contend with one nasty Saint Benard (wagging tails and all), dehydration, and heat stroke.
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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