Hi, folks, I thought I’d make an appearance here before the record-breaking summer heat conspired with my Pentium Northwood system to force me into the nearest garage.

I’m polishing up a couple of scripts for the perusal of our resident artist and webmistress, Alida Saxon.  She’s asked to see them so she can percolate some album art ideas for Volume 2…not to mention threatened just out of sheer curiosity.  It’s only to be expected.

I keep talking about new eps, dropping titles like “Sleepless Days” and “Damning Praise,” so someone’s bound to call my bluff eventually.  Anyway, a couple thoughts on matters loosely related to Afterhell…..

Jamie recently pointed me to an article on the SFGate about a news story I’d been following for a while.  A kid in San Jose was in serious hot water for a poem he’d written in school.  It was a primitive, edgy piece of work that evoked the fears of any reasonable person after the events at Columbine High School a few years back.

Students and faculty were panicking.  Was it a poem or a threat?  A threatening poem?  What was it?!

The case was before the California State Supreme Court.  Fortunately, sanity reigned and the kid was cleared of any charges.

Now Jamie brought this to my attention for two reasons.  The kid lives in San Jose, California.  My hometown.  And one of several writers who came to this kid’s defense is one of my favorites, none other than Harlan Ellison.

And this does strike a personal chord for me, for reasons other than the obvious.  My brother once got into trouble for somthing similar.  A counselor at his school saw a picture he drew and called our parents in.  He was only copying some art from a post-apocalyptic RPG, an early edition of Gamma World.  A line drawing of a humanoid rabbit packing a rifle was enough to make her, a normally reasonable and sympathetic woman, panic.  And they had to show the counselor the book and prove my brother hadn’t gone postal.

I’ve always agreed with Ellison’s take on art, that its function is to disturb as well as inspire.   Complaceny, not fear, is the enemy.  With enough time and mental adjustment, you can get used to anything.  Complaceny is comfortable, reassuring and unchanging.  Once you’re hooked on the junk, you’ll do anything to keep it going.  Even comfort has its dangers.

I wanted to put in a world for Jerry Goldsmith, noted composer for fillms and television, who died in his sleep Wednesday night.  Everyone has been touched by his innovative music at least once in their lives, from Patton to Logan’s Run, from The Omen to the Star Trek films, from The Man from UNCLE to The Waltons.  I’ve loved film music for a long time.  His work at there for me at the very beginning.  The second film I ever saw was bits from Planet of the Apes, and the music I heard then has stuck to me all this time.  I’d like to think an exciting new sound has been added to Heaven’s mix.

Comments: 2
Written: Jul 24, 2004

Just got back from ‘Salem’s Lot.  Man, does my neck hurt.

Tons of fans, of the horror genre or of Stephen King in particular, have been chomping at the bit about TNT’s remake of ‘Salem’s Lot.  I’m not trying to be punny, honestly.  Controversy has been buzzing around this thing for some time, ever since Tobe Hooper directed the original mini-series in 1979.

“It wasn’t like the book.”  “The opening was stupid.”  “They did Barlow wrong!”  “David Soul sucks!”  “I wanna blankie!” “Waaaaah!”

Yeah, kinda cold of me.  Sorry.  My sympathy for fundamentalists or literalists is a little low.

Here’s why.  Books ain’t movies, movies ain’t books, and parts ain’t parts, no matter what people tell you.  Literature and cinema are fundamentally different media, each putting their own special demands on artist and audience alike.  They each have their own merits.  You can’t just dump filet mignon into a blender and call it the perfect milkshake.  When a book is adapted to film or vice versa, you have to cut the results some slack.  Expect change.  Otherwise you get junk.

I subjected you to that  li’l lecture, true believers, only to make clear where I’m coming from.  I’m familiar with the book and the ‘79 mini-series, but not loyal.  I didn’t go in with a lot of expectations.  Just one.  I wanted it to be good.

Folks have asked what I think of the TNT remake.  Here I am telling you.

The first half was fantastic.  It boiled down the best qualities of the original book, right down to the opening narration.  Scriptwriter Peter Ficardi should be commended.  The teaser is the only major deviation from the source—and a good one—establishing crisis and drawing us in from the start.  When we hit the titular town, taking in quick character sketches of the people and the place, it’s like a funeral pall laid out before us.  We’re told at the opening, “This town knows darkness.”  And it’s easy to believe.

My hopes were up. It was promising good things.  There was some atmosphere, a few genuine efforts to hit a little too close to home.  This wasn’t a safe, orderly little world where a great eeeevil colors outside the lines.

It was really cooking until the second half.  It kept falling short of greatness.  Suddenly we’re stiffed with Hollywoodisms:  token Scully moments, the undead on the march, out-of-character one-liners, sudden orchestra hits and high-speed smash-edits.  Cheap shocks.  Carnival tricks.  And just when we’re handed a perfect ending for this horror flick, a lame-ass heavy metal cover of “Paint It Black” intrudes on it.

Don’t ruin the tone, idiots!   Consistency may be the hobgoblin of little minds, but it’s not wishy-washy either.

Stupid.  Keep it simple, stupid.

I hate to say it, but I honestly don’t think director Mikael Salomon knew how to tackle horror at all.  I mean, look at this!  When asked what makes a movie scary, the one element he doesn’t mention is the story itself.

I’m sure someone will eventually try to hang me with my own words, but that’s what at the heart of every horror flick.  We need nightmares, not pranks.  We can get that stupid snake-in-the-candy-jar trick anywhere.  It doesn’t take a lot of skill to walk up behind someone and shout “Boo!”

And this version of ‘Salem’s Lot has been hamstrung by that very mistake, which was made repeatedly.  If it wasn’t for that, it’d have left us with chills long after the incredible shrinking end credits were done.

Sure, it’s fun.  No question.  Both adaptations have their moments.  But it could’ve been more.  It could’ve been memorable.

Comments: 0
Written: Jun 26, 2004