Editorials
‘Skinner’ – 1993 Serial Killer Slasher Starring Ted Raimi Remains Under the Radar After All These Years
Found in your local “Shower After Watching” section of the suspicious flea market around the corner is 1993’s Skinner. And it’s probably the only movie in that bin to feature an acting performance from daytime talk show host Ricki Lake. Seriously.
This little piece of rarely spoken about horror history is one part Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer and one-part uncategorizable madness that I’m semi-shocked is still available to watch at all, much less to be reached in an instant on Tubi.
In the film, directed by feature director turned porn director Ivan Nagy, Dennis Skinner (the great Ted Raimi) is an active serial killer who murders mostly prostitutes and then skins them, stitches them back together and wears them while talking about his childhood and saying things like “This really is the clothing…..for a divine soul.”
Skinner darkens the doorway of Kerry Tate (Ricki Lake) who’s desperately looking to help her truck driver husband (David Warshofsky) with the bills by renting out one of their bedrooms in their home. They befriend each other and he struggles nightly with the urge to, you know, skin her alive. An urge that he takes out on many “ladies of the night.”
Meanwhile, Heidi (Traci Lords), a survivor of a past Skinner attack, spends her days shooting up in hotel rooms and talking to his picture, swearing her vengeance. We pan back to this about every ten minutes just in case you forget. As Skinner unfolds and his victims continue to pile up, Heidi comes closer and closer to catching him while he comes closer to giving in to his urges to kill Kerry and peel her like a Fruit Roll-Up. The sexual tension also rises between them as her husband becomes more and more suspicious of what’s going on with Bill Nye The Serial Killer Guy and his wife whom he can’t stand. Ricki Lake just kind of stumbles around the house pretending that she’s okay in this situation and making really gross meals for everyone to eat.
Skinner feels like a film that should have its place next to something like Thankskilling for its absolutely insane moments and trashy volition but thanks to a great performance from Ted Raimi, a haunting score, and an overall frightening vibe, it manages to stand out as something that sticks with you much longer. There’s something frighteningly believable about Raimi’s performance as a soft spoken, nervous, and overtly happy seeming person with a twisted night life. He’ll pick up a prostitute, sheepishly ask her to close her eyes while he undresses and then will show up overtop of her wearing someone else’s skin and screaming. It’s definitely up there with performances like Mark Duplass in Creep or Michael Rooker in Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer but is surrounded by a deluge of video nasty-isms and strange moments that you can’t help but laugh at. At one point he just chugs a glass of water like he’s being electrocuted and splashes water all over the place for absolutely no reason other than to add to the fact that he’s weird as shit.
On the other side of the door, Ricki Lake’s strange acting performance is the perfect juxtaposition. Her clueless innocence to anything and everything around her just feels like you’re watching a field mouse be dangled in front of an anaconda.
When these two are in the same room together the awkwardness is overwhelming. They will be having a normal conversation and the next thing you know he’s helping her de-skin the grossest looking turkey you’ve ever seen in your life and awkwardly rubbing his hands in the creases of the turkey breast. Immediately after they start dancing together, hands clasped with chicken goo all over their fingers. Be right back… I have to wash my hands.
Eventually, Ted Raimi’s Jake Gyllenhaal in Nightcrawler-esque performance can only hold up so much. The Ahab character becomes laughable camp, repeating the same lines with overdramatic C-movie flare and even the haunting score that at one point reminded you of a John Carpenter score becomes tiresome and repetitive. It’s more like spending a day inside the mind of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho than actually watching American Psycho.
With a little narrative direction, a few cut scenes (maybe one character completely) and a better ending, the film could have reached the cult status of something like William Lustig’s Maniac. Not to be, however, as it never really figures out how to land. Skinner is not a movie I will recommend to everyone but I will say that it’s one that’s stuck with me since I saw it as a kid. Fans of the darker, more twisted side of horror will definitely want to add this one to their watch lists.
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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