Editorials
When Worlds (and Genres) Collide: ‘From Dusk Till Dawn’ at 25
After the one-two punch of Reservoir Dogs (1992) and Pulp Fiction (1994), it seemed that Quentin Tarantino could do no wrong. He had become as big of a movie star as the actors that appeared in his films and a darling of the independent film movement. Robert Rodriguez also made his directorial debut in 1992 with El Mariachi, a film that wowed critics and audiences worldwide. The two had become immediate friends at the Toronto Film Festival during the tours of their debut films. While Tarantino was writing Pulp Fiction and Rodriguez was writing Desperado (1995), Tarantino told Rodriguez about a script he had written a few years earlier based on a treatment by special effects artist Robert Kurtzman. Kurtzman wrote the treatment in hopes of creating a film to showcase the work of the make-up effects company he created with Greg Nicotero and Howard Berger: KNB Effects Group. Rodriguez was blown away by what he read and immediately expressed interest in making it. The script was filled with the style and dialogue that Tarantino was becoming known for. It also had an unexpected twist halfway through—a Mexican strip bar populated by vampires.
I was lucky enough to go into my first viewing of From Dusk Till Dawn having no idea what it was about. I had not seen the trailer or even heard its tagline: “Vampires. No Interviews.” The movie starts out very much in the vein of other Tarantino scripted films of the time. I had seen Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction and the lead characters of Seth and Richie Gecko, played by George Clooney and Tarantino himself, fit right into the world that had become so enticing and familiar from those films. The pre-credit scene that begins with a Texas Ranger, played by veteran actor Michael Parks, is vintage Tarantino. In its setup, it is similar to the opening of Natural Born Killers or Pulp Fiction, taking place in a common business and beginning with its focus on characters that are ultimately peripheral to the main plot. But even with all the hallmarks of early Tarantino, From Dusk Till Dawn is without a doubt a Robert Rodriguez movie. This is most apparent in the visual style of the film. The dusty settings, camera work, staging, and editing are clearly the work of the stylish action director. The film is ultimately the product of a brilliant collaboration between two different but highly compatible voices.
One of the most brilliant aspects of the film is its ability to be several different kinds of movies that seamlessly merge together. It begins as a cross-country crime spree movie with touches of Bonnie and Clyde (1967), Badlands (1973), and Natural Born Killers (1994). The film takes so much of its time setting up the characters that when they finally encounter the unbelievable truth, their actions are totally believable for the situation. We learn early on that Seth is measured and rational while still being deadly. Richie, on the other hand, is a psychopath and a complete loose cannon. The sibling connection is the only thing that keeps them from killing each other. In some ways, Seth is more of a father figure to Richie than anything, often scolding him for his actions and reminding him to put in his “bit” to prevent him from grinding his teeth. Seth’s generally calm demeanor makes him appear less dangerous than his unstable brother, but we are often reminded that his temper can turn on a dime when pushed over the line—a line that seems to be constantly in motion. There is no telling when he will turn on someone.
This deadly duo soon encounters Jacob Fuller (Harvey Keitel) and his two children: daughter Kate (Juliette Lewis) and adopted son Scott (Ernest Liu). Jacob has spent his lifetime as a pastor but lost his faith after the death of his wife. His children, raised on his preaching, still hold to the beliefs they grew up with and struggle to understand how he could abandon what he had been so devoted to. Movies often turn people of faith into caricatures, but not From Dusk Till Dawn. There is a great sense of empathy for Jacob’s struggle, largely due to Keitel’s portrayal. It is a crisis of belief handled with sensitivity, subtlety, and realism. As a person raised in a Christian home who spent more than ten years working in churches as a career, I personally connect with Jacob on a deep level. It moves me greatly that a person with some similar struggles to mine is portrayed so respectfully and authentically.
Seth and Richie hold the Fuller family hostage to help them cross the border into Mexico. There, they will rendezvous with a gangster who will give them passage to the mythical city of El Rey. Seth promises that he will let them all go safely if they get them across the border without incident and stay the night with them at the rendezvous point. Seeing no other choice, Jacob agrees. The border crossing scene is a testament to Tarantino’s script and Rodriguez’s ability to create tension while, at the same time, subtly shifting our allegiance to the Gecko brothers. They do this through forcing the Fullers to cooperate with the Geckos in deceiving the border agents as they search Jacob’s RV. The sequence functions in a similar way to the clean-up scene in Psycho (1960) where we go through a suspenseful and disturbing ordeal with a character and come out completely on their side. As they cross the border, we find ourselves now rooting not only for the Fullers, but the Gecko brothers.
Starting with the arrival at The Titty Twister, From Dusk Till Dawn becomes a very different kind of film. Right away, Rodriguez’s style, complete with pyrotechnics and Latin-infused hard rock musical choices, becomes completely apparent. The sequence is pure spectacle—practically an assault on the senses. The editing becomes quicker, the camera angles more extreme, and Cheech Marin, as a kind of carnival barker, delivers one of the most famous and raunchy monologues of the 90’s. We also get a glimpse of Seth’s impulsive side. When Marin’s character, Chet Pussy, grabs his arm, Gecko throws him to the ground and beats him, with Richie giving him a (more expected considering what we know of him) kick while he is down.
Once inside it is as though we have entered a new movie with a much-expanded cast, including Rodriguez regulars Danny Trejo as the bartender and Salma Hayek as Santanico Pandemonium, the bar’s beautiful and mysterious star attraction. Clientele include Fred Williamson as Frost and make-up legend Tom Savini as Sex Machine. Savini’s protégé Greg Nicotero also appears briefly as a biker who gets his beer stolen by Sex Machine with a small whip that he carries.
Even after entering the bar, it takes quite some time before the horror of the film begins. We are allowed to settle into the atmosphere and laugh at its excesses. During Santanico’s dance, the wound that Richie received from being shot in the hand in the opening scene is reopened during a fight. As the blood begins to flow, the python wielding dancer turns into a snake-like creature herself. This is only the beginning as every Titty Twister worker, including the dancers, bouncers, bartender, and band turn into rat and bat-like vampires, starting a bloodbath unparalleled in any vampire film seen up to that time and maybe even since. This twist caught me completely by surprise on my first viewing. I will never forget the shocked glee I felt when two of my favorite worlds—Tarantino’s fresh take on gangsters and all-out horror movie carnage—collided. There are Evil Dead 2 levels of splatstick in this sequence, mixed with some of the best creature and gore effects that the KNB Effects Group has ever produced.
After the vampires inside the building meet their demise, the film shifts gears yet again and becomes a siege movie. Throughout the film, Scott Fuller wears a Precinct 13 t-shirt, a reference to one of the clear influences on this film: John Carpenter’s Assault on Precinct 13 (1976), a truly classic example of the siege movie. As legions of vampires in bat form amass outside, the group goes about preparing for a takeover. The group discusses what they know about vampires and everything they know comes from movies they have seen. Sex Machine comments that he has seen “Peter Cushing do that all the time” when they discuss making crosses out of various items.
Another clear influence on the film, and an example of a horror siege film, is Dawn of the Dead (1978) and its many imitators. Like the zombies in those films, the vampires here can turn humans into the undead merely by biting them and the sheer number of monsters poses the greatest danger. More directly, the character of Sex Machine is, in many ways, a variation on the biker character Savini played in Dawn. During the previous battle against the vampires, he is bitten on the arm, but puts on his leather jacket to cover up that fact. There always seems to be that one guy who is bitten by a zombie, but hides it, endangering the entire group. And, of course, he turns into a vampire and attacks, turning Vietnam War veteran Frost into one of the undead and letting the vampire hordes inside in the process. This is Tarantino doing what he does best—twisting what, by then, had become clichés and tropes of various genre and exploitation films, making them fresh once again.
Even in the midst of the outlandish set-pieces of this section of the film, there are moments of great emotional gravity; two in particular involving Jacob. First, he is confronted with his crisis of faith. Seth reminds him that as a faithless preacher, he is useless to them. As a man of God, he can turn two sticks into a cross that drives the vampires back. Or bless tap-water and turn it into a weapon. Gecko asks him directly, “so which are you? Are you a faithless preacher? Or are you a mean motherfucking servant of God?” Jacob comes to a reckoning with himself in that moment, and though he is unable to bring himself to echo Gecko’s profanity, answers, “I’m a mean mmmm mmmm servant of God.” We see in his eyes that he truly believes it. Soon after, Jacob is bitten while battling. As they prepare to fight, Jacob forces his children to promise to kill him when he turns, reminding them that it won’t really be him they kill, but a demon. “I’ll be a lapdog of Satan,” he tells them. Though the line itself is funny, it is delivered with earnestness and followed by deeply felt grief as both Jacob and his kids realize the weight of the fact that he will be gone within the hour.
During the closing battle, KNB showcases their wizardry even further. Vampires die in every conceivable way finally being eradicated by the light of the sun reflecting off a disco ball. As originally scripted, Jacob was to quote the famous Ezekiel 25:17 speech, but it had already been repurposed by Tarantino for an iconic reading by Samuel L. Jackson in Pulp Fiction. Even without this flourish, the film barrels toward its climax with plenty of grindhouse-inspired exhilaration, ending as it began: with a pyrotechnic blast as two characters exit an exploding building.
1996 was quite a year for horror. It began with this metanarrative twist on the vampire genre and ended with Scream’s very meta take on slashers. From Dusk Till Dawn announced what we now know very well—that Tarantino can write effectively in all kinds of genres. It proved that Rodriguez was more than up to the task of special effects heavy films, bigger budgets, and large casts and crews while maintaining his unique voice. It opened the door for future collaborations between Tarantino and Rodriguez including Sin City (2005), Troublemaker Studios, and Grindhouse (2007). It helped George Clooney make the leap from television star to big screen leading man. Perhaps most important of all, it opened horror up to fresh ideas from a new generation of filmmakers. Much like Tarantino did both literally and figuratively with Pulp Fiction, From Dusk Till Dawn gave a struggling genre a much-needed shot of adrenaline straight to the heart.
Editorials
Before ‘The Blair Witch Project’, ‘Alien Autopsy’ Showed How Real Found Footage Could Feel
The line separating artist from con man is a lot thinner than you might initially believe. While I think we can all agree that lying for the sake of profit is actively malicious behavior, isn’t it also true that the faux documentary aspect of The Blair Witch Project is half the reason why that film became such a cultural phenomenon? After all, if there’s one thing filmmakers have in common with stage magicians, it’s that misleading and misdirecting audiences is simply part of the job.
That’s why I’ve developed a habit of mostly ignoring the moral quandaries behind many of film and television’s biggest “hoaxes” in favor of appreciating the narrative elements that drive productions like Mermaids: The Body Found and even Animal Planet’s highly underrated The Cannibal in the Jungle. However, if there’s a definitive case of a highly publicized broadcast fooling the world into taking it seriously, it has to be Fox’s infamous 1995 TV special Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction.
It’s been over three decades since that eerie footage first haunted television screens right at the peak of the ’90s ufology craze, and in that time, the video has taken on a life of its own. From countless parodies and references in everything from The X-Files to Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater (as well as John Dower’s recently released tell-all documentary The Alien Autopsy Scandal, which I’d highly recommend to genre fans everywhere), there’s no denying the legacy of the Alien Autopsy video. However, I rarely see the tape discussed as what it truly is: a highly convincing found footage film directed by a passionate stage magician and brought to life by masterful practical effects work.
That’s why I’d like to invite readers to join me on a deep dive into one of the most infamous broadcasts of all time in an attempt to reevaluate the footage as a fascinating narrative experience rather than a complete hoax.
The TV Special That Convinced Millions It Was Real
Ray Santilli next to Extraterrestrial replica in ‘The Alien Autopsy Scandal’
For starters, regardless of whether or not you believe that there was in fact an extraterrestrial crash in Roswell during the summer of 1947 and that some form of autopsy was performed on the victims, the producers behind the black & white recordings, Ray Santilli and Gary Shoefield, insist that their video was a “restoration.” Though I’d argue that the proper word is “remake”of genuine footage that was too damaged to air on television. That’s why the duo went on to recruit filmmaker and eccentric magician Spyros Melaris and sculptor/monster designer John Humphreys to bring their version of the autopsy to life and sell it to the highest bidder.
This is where the story of the Alien Autopsy as a narrative experience really begins. Melaris claims that his approach to the faux recording consisted of striving for extreme period accuracy in both shooting equipment and setting while also planting subtle details that would initially seem like mistakes but could later be revealed to actually fit the time period. That being said, the filmmaker was under the impression that the short would be released for free as a PR stunt, with the team later producing and selling an informative documentary chronicling exactly how the footage was faked and commenting on how easy it is to manipulate public perception with a good old-fashioned magic trick.
This obviously isn’t how things went down, and that’s likely the reason why Melaris has since distanced himself from everyone else involved with the project. Yet, no amount of behind-the-scenes drama can undermine the genuine effort that went into making the short as impressive as it is. From the sourcing of real animal organs from a local butcher to make the organic part of the creature more lifelike to the highly detailed sculpt that made use of a hollowed-out underlayer that could be filled with fake blood and assorted viscera, there’s a reason why so many Hollywood specialists are still impressed with the artistry on display here.
Of course, the believability is only half the story, as I think that the best part of the autopsy is how Melaris builds on the existing tension by obscuring certain details and often embracing the chaos of what a real examination of extraterrestrial life could feel like. The camera often goes out of focus at just the right time to make certain effects hit even harder, and we can only speculate as to what the hazmat-suited doctors are gesticulating about during the operation. There’s a real air of mystery to the whole thing that almost makes it feel like a cosmically terrifying, cursed film containing forbidden knowledge that civilians were never meant to see.
So when Fox’s Fact or Fiction brings in the specialists to comment on the film and its otherworldly subject, it’s no surprise that we end up with one of the most memorable mockumentaries of all time – albeit one where the participants are unaware that the footage they’re commenting on is basically a large-scale practical joke. A joke that the network was obviously in on, as many participants claim that the TV special cut out significant portions where guests point out that they believe the footage to be an elaborate hoax.
The Lasting Impact of the Hoax Turned Cultural Event
Regardless, I remember going to bed terrified after watching reruns of the special and thinking about the respected pathologist who claimed that the body was almost certainly inhuman, with even effects maestro Stan Winston commenting on how difficult it would be to recreate some of these visuals through practical puppetry. That’s not even mentioning Jonathan Frakes’ dramatic hyping up of the disturbing imagery as if he was talking about the tape from The Ring, with his spooky demeanor here likely being responsible for his later role as the host of Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction a few years later.
Personally, I’d argue that the Alien Autopsy phenomenon had just as much of an impact on me as a horror fan as The Blair Witch Project, a film that was almost certainly influenced by the success of this immensely popular hoax (to the point where they even produced their own TV special commenting on Heather’s found footage). Even if Fox didn’t intend to produce a narrative feature about the aftermath of the Roswell crash, the end product still holds up remarkably well as a highly entertaining mockumentary exploring the idea that we may not be alone in the universe.
While neither Santilli nor the rest of the production team has ever commented on this, I also think it’s very likely that the idea of a faux Alien Autopsy could have been influenced by Dean Alioto’s The McPherson Tape/UFO Abduction. I’ve already written about how this granddaddy of found footage was co-opted by rogue ufologists who began selling bootlegs of the tape at conventions as if it were real evidence of a close encounter, so it’s not that much of a stretch to imagine that Santilli and company could have heard about this phenomenon and been inspired to come up with their own highly profitable hoax.
At the end of the day, it’s unlikely that the Alien Autopsy film is recreating any real footage from Roswell, but I can still appreciate the short and the accompanying television event as a standalone horror story that still influences the way we see found footage to this very day.
After all, the possibility that something could be real is often much scarier than finding out for sure – and that’s why I think Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction is still worth revisiting three decades down the line.
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