The other night I went to a party. By the end of it, I was covered in soot, ash, and barbecue sauce. Oh, and one of my legs was torn off above the knee. Okay, you got me, it was a dream. As soon as I woke up, I tortured my wife with the abbreviated version of my nightmare (because I've found that no matter how much someone loves you, listening to a long rendition of a dream is about as exciting as someone giving you a blow-by-blow account of a TV show you have no intention of ever viewing). She said, "And this was a party?" "Yeah," I said. "The weirdest thing was, after I lost my leg, I continued to party." She patted me on the shoulder, solemnly said, "Honey, I think you need to make better choices." It got me thinking ("No, Stuart," I hear you all yelling, "don't do that!"). I actually have been to some deadly parties outside the realm of my vivid dream-life. Sure, most of them are from my wilder youth, but it astounds me how close to death's door I knocked. For instance, there was the time a couple of my pals decided it'd be a good idea to tip a long coffee table onto its belly, rub Vaseline on the top, and ride it down the wooden staircase like a toboggan. We rode it, of course, two people per ride. Fun on a budget! It's absolutely amazing no one ended up in the ER. (The party did end, though, when some guy--who none of us knew--came down the stairs at four in the morning in his underwear and his face made up like a clown.) Interesting side-note: this was my friend's house in Kansas City, Missouri. While we were partying like rock-stars, little did we realize that one block directly behind us, notorious Kansas City serial killer Bob Berdella was pouring Drano down an unwitting victim's throat.
Back on point, how can I not mention the party thrown by a girl I'd dated off an on? When we showed up, she was parading around her new boy-toy, a large, surly Latino guy. One of my friends got on his wrong side. Sensibly (it's Kansas!), he started waving a gun around, threatening us. Time to leave! Mercifully, no one was shot (except for my crushed, male ego). And lest I forget, there was the party we were invited to in Ottawa, Kansas. Road trip! The hullaballo started out well enough: no guns, good crowd, nice vibe as we all piled out onto the second floor deck surrounding the big trash can full of spiked punch. Not too long after we arrived, though, I heard ice cracking. The bottom went out beneath us as the pillars supporting the deck cracked. Sixty people avalanched down, ending in a Twister game gone horribly awry. Icing on the cake: the vat of punch was the last to fall, coloring us all in a red dye. Bloody, splintered, red-hued, my gang of pals did the good common sense thing: we sought out the only bar in town located in a bowling alley. Our clothes and skin red from punch, we entered the domain of redneckery. As soon as we sat down, the waitress came over with a tray full of milk. "What's this?" I asked. The waitress pointed to a bunch of chuckling cowboys. "They bought you a round." "Cool!" I downed mine in a second. It didn't end there, though. A couple of the tougher (and dumber) friends of mine wanted to engage in fisticuffs because they felt insulted. Get that car warmed up! There were many more such occasions, usually ending in our being physically tossed out of a party. A year ago or so I got together with one of these guys. Nostalgically, we realized how on many different occasions, we'd partied on the edge of danger and were just too dumb and young and naive and care-free to realize it (while our wives looked on aghast at our heretofore untold, legendary tales of youthful stupidity).
Speaking of heretofore untold true tales of terror, check out my horror and humor collection, Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley (just like the name of this here blog!). Every word in the book is true (a lie!), all the stories are autobiographical (a bigger lie!), and they're guaranteed to keep you up at night shivering (not so much a lie as full-on ballyhoo)!
Hi there. It's me again, the neighborly Naugahyde, the ambassador of ass-sittery...Stuart's sofa.
I'm back to tell you about more exciting, thrilling tales from my viewpoint, the astoundingly rich life I live by servicing Stuart's hiney while he...while he...sob...writes...all day long. My life's a lie!
A sad, dull lie. All day long, all week long, Stuart's rear-end punishes me as he sits, unmoving, excepting his fingers flying across the keyboard. Oh, sure, there were the three months when Stuart's daughter moved in and her dogs abused me by jumping all over my hide and tearing my skin. Yeah, it hurt like crazy, but, hey, at least their rowdiness provided welcome variety.
Of course there was that one dizzying day when I got tipped on my side and moved toward the back door while the carpet was cleaned. I nearly hurled, but by God, man, I got to look outside! I think I saw a bird! (They're furry creatures with long tails, right?) Then, like yesterday's Arthur Treacher's fish-bones, I was tragically banished back to my original spot beneath Stuart's arse.
The carpeting gets more respect than me. I've said it before, I'll say it again, watching someone write is about as thrilling as watching golf on TV. I mean, at least on golf programs people walk, apparently a chore too exhausting for Stuart. Well, wait, Stuart did have a little excitement the other day. He received a phone call, for once not from his mother. "Hello," he answered tentatively, hermit that he is. The woman on the other end spoke in an Asian language, her words frantic and rushed. "Um, I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number," Stuart said. Her voice rose in panic, clearly terrified, her words indecipherable. "Ma'am, are you okay? Maybe you should hang up and I'll call 911 or..." Suddenly, the line went dead. There may've been a brief shriek beforehand.
And Stuart--the great indoorsman, the ultimate man of inaction--nearly rose off my tired body, forced into doing something.
Anything! "Nahhh," he said.
He sat back down and scribbled some notes, determined to turn this call into a future thriller. Sigh. Welcome to my life, such as it is...
And welcome to the haunted town of Gannaway, Kansas! "Ghosts of Gannaway has some truly scary scenes,
it is the slow boil suspense that gets under the skin. I'll be reading
more of Stuart R. West!" -Tom Deady, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of Haven
Because I'm so long-winded or maybe because Brett Piper's a pretty fascinating and super-talented film director, writer, and special effects/stop-motion animation guru, I had to cut our interview in half. The first part can be read HERE. And now...on with the thrilling conclusion!
SRW: Shock-O-Rama is next from 2005, your first (to date)
anthology film. The wraparound sequence finds Misty Mundae playing a fed-up
scream queen tired of being typecast. In some very funny scenes, we see her
fall in intestines (don’t ask), threatened by a weed whacker, and rant about
her expected nudity. Was she basically playing herself?
BP: Oh yes.
SRW: The next tale in the film is a fun one set in a junkyard where a
guy takes on alien robots (it’s Rob M. again, this time acting more tough with
some goofy facial hair). Was the classic Twilight Zone episode, The Invaders,
an inspiration?
BP: No, as much as I love that episode there was no
connection. I just wanted to build a junkyard robot.
SRW: The final story was a rare serious story detailing
psychological/science fiction/sexual hijinx. Or something. Mainly it just
seemed to be an excuse to put in a lotta cool effects at the end. Guilty?
BP: Mea maxima culpa.
SRW: Bacterium (2006) is a pretty serious film for Brett
Piper. Everything’s more realistic. Not only does the film detail real world
scares (infectious diseases, military overstepping boundaries, panic room
politics), but it does so in a dark, unsettling manner. Furthermore, you have a
pretty elaborate opening auto/helicopter chase, ending in a seriously fiery
way, also unusual for your films. What happened?
BP: Raso at Pop Cinema had this sort of ongoing aspiration
to sell movies to the ScyFy Channel (whatever it was called back them). One of
the hooks he thought they responded to was everyday creatures becoming menacing
monsters. We tossed around a bunch of potential threats until finally I said
“What about giant germs?” And that's what we went with. The fiery
opening came about when Johnny Sullivan, our stunt coordinator, called me up
and said “How'd you like to burn down a barn for this movie?” He knew some
firemen who were burning a barn as a training exercise so he set the whole
thing up, including doing the full body burn himself. Our producer, Christina
Christodoulopoulos, arranged to get us a helicopter for an entire day for only
a few hundred bucks by sweet talking the pilot. It was quite a spectacular
opening for such a small picture (the cheapest I did for EI/Pop Cinema). Then
some clown doing a review said it looked like it was shot in someone's back
yard. I guess he burns down barns in his back yard all the time.
SRW: (Stupid barn-burning critics...) Okay, the
dilapidated mansion used for the main setting is pretty effective. Where’d you
find that winner?
BP: That was at an army base, Fort Totten in Queens. We shot
in what used to be the officers' housing. Again our producer, Christina C, set
that up. She was pretty amazing.
SRW: Rob comes riding in about 2/3 of the way into the movie
and he brings the funny along with him. I knew you couldn’t keep the humor out,
Brett (We're kindred spirits)!
BP: Damn right I couldn't. I wanted Caitlin Ross to be the
girl in his bed, like their characters had gotten back together again after the
events of Shock-O-Rama, but I believe she had moved to California by
then. Not that there's anything wrong with Anju McIntyre, who is always a
pleasure to work with. Also the army general (colonel? I can't remember) was
written for Julian Wells, also someone I'd very much enjoyed working with in
two previous movies. I don't know why she turned it down. I sent her several
e-mails saying “Are you gonna do this thing or not?” and she finally responded
“WHATEVER!!!”. Not very informative.
SRW: Hey, it’s Muckman
(2009), your requisite hillbilly swamp monster film (yay!). Are you more of a
Swamp Thing, Man Thing, or Mud Monster (1978 TV movie) kinda guy?
BP: Swamp Thing. The comic book, not the movie.
SRW: Here you’re indulging in some very astute and amusing
reality TV satire again, this time attacking all of those ridiculous monster
hunter type shows. Get ‘em, Brett! What struck me about this movie is the
strong female leads (while not always likable, they’re gutsy and empathetic).
On the other hand, most of the men in the flick are pigs of varying degrees.
Then, just when I think you’re a closet feminist, boom, you blindside the
viewer with a hot bikini clad girls fighting in the water scene. Is it possible
to have your cake and eat it, too?
BP: Wait a minute --- do you have a problem with hot females
wrestling in bikinis? You know, one of the many things I hate about feminism is
that it's so limiting, both towards men and women. Why can't you be a smart,
capable woman and still show off in a bikini? Women can have more than one
facet to their personalities, you know.
SRW: I believe Muckman
started your collaboration with Polonia Brothers Productions. (By the way,
I was really sorry to hear about John Polonia’s passing). To tell you the
truth, this worried me at first; the Polonia films I’ve seen haven’t exactly
been…um, stellar. But I needn’t have worried, the quality is still there. In
fact, from what I’ve seen of your films, Mark Polonia’s acting has improved as
well. Maybe it’s time to check out some of their later films (and I see you’ve done
some effects work for them, too).
BP: Muckman was a total collaboration all the way
down the line. Except that when Mark suggested we co-direct it I said “I don't
think a movie should have two directors. And I want to direct this thing.” So
he graciously acceded to my wishes, although he did direct some scenes himself,
including one of my favorite shots,
following the Muckman as he prowls through the woods. But it never would have been made without
Mark, that's for sure.
SRW: 2012 saw the release of The Dark Sleep, another change for you (hey, change keeps it
interesting, right?). While it’s a return to all things Lovecraftian (other
realms, rat creatures, tentacle monsters, etc.), you’re going darker again.
It’s pretty metaphysical, kinda like “Davey and Goliath go to Hell.” Are you
just keeping things interesting for yourself?
BP: I wanted to do a movie about nightmare worlds so I could
go crazy with the visuals. It was originally written under the title Nightmare
House (pretty generic). I had the script almost finished when I came across
an article about Lovecraft's story “Dreams in the Witch House” which I'd never
read. I saw certain similarities so I dug out a Lovecraft collection my pal
Anthony Polonia had given me and read it. I was amazed at how much our stories
had in common so, since Lovecraft is public domain, I incorporated some of his
material (Brown Jenkin, etc.) into my own. The movie became a Lovecraft
“adaptation” retroactively.
SRW: Brett, you’re the master of the exploitation title
(especially those one word zingers), and the title usually tells exactly what
the viewer can expect. Not here. Please explain the title. (I thought it
sounded like a Marlowe noir.)
BP: I thought the meaning of the title was pretty self
evident. Dark, meaning gloomy or twisted, and Sleep, which is
where you have your dreams. Oh well.
SRW: Okay, it’s time to address something I didn’t like to
see… Gasp! Is this the first film you’ve used extensive CGI? Tell me it ain’t
so!
BP: It ain't so. The only CGI (if you can even call it that)
is the floating geometric shapes (based on a dream I had while under ether at
the dentist decades ago). Other than that I merely use the computer as a sort
of optical printer to do my composites and such. If I'd had the money I would have done
traveling mattes in my earlier movies but they're much too expensive on film.
Now I can do them on my computer, but I don't consider that CGI. The original
images are still created in the real world through models and paintings and
such. It's funny, as far back as Bite Me I had people complaining about
the 'CGI” spiders. Nope, stop-motion all the way baby.
SRW: Whew, you had me scared there for a minute.
Queen Crab
crawled out of 2015, but really, it came from the ‘50’s. Another fun throwback,
this one opens with a first for you (I think), a child actress. Will you ever
work with kids again, Brett?
BP: I hope so. I love kids. There were kids in the original
opening sequence of Battle For the Lost Planet/Galaxy, but it was cut
and replaced with the old guy on the beach. And one of the package of stories I
wrote along with Dying Day had Frankenstein's monster wash up on a beach
in Maine where he was “adopted” by a group of kids. Also, now that I think of
it, the werewolf story featured a little girl as one of the main characters.
SRW: (You know, I'm glad to hear that because I hated the old guy on the beach sequence in Galaxy. Didn't fit).
I got a real Night
of the Lepus vibe from Queen Crab, from the neglected child of scientist parents
feeding mutant strains of stuff to her pet crab to the titular monster. Am I
right or is sometimes a horror movie just a horror movie?
BP: I don't remember Lepus all that well, except for
some rather nice miniature work with a herd of big bunnies. The real
inspiration was Universal's second string sci-fi movies from the Fifties, like Monolith
Monsters, with the small town sheriff and all.
SRW: What began as a comical duo of the sheriff and deputy
didn’t quite end that way, as the deputy took a seriously “Lifetime Movie
Husband Bad Guy” turn. The sheriff is played by your current actor of choice,
Ken Van Sant. I almost couldn’t recall him from the first two features you made
with him, but his acting’s growing stronger. What is it you like about Van
Sant?
BP: Hell, Ken's just an all around terrific guy. We couldn't
make these movies without him. Dark Sleep was shot almost entirely at
his house! I don't think there's a movie Mark and I have made that wasn't at
least partially shot on Ken's property. And he's always very enthusiastic and
eager to work on these things. Couldn't ask for a better collaborator.
SRW: Back to the fifties and back to the seriously weird
abnormal eye motif, we have Triclops (2016). Not much to say about this one, but
when I saw it, I breathed a sigh of relief as it appeared to have the most
stop-motion animation in it than any other of your films. Just promise me,
Brett, you’ll never go all CGI.
BP: I couldn't go all CGI if I wanted to! I don't have the
tools. I edit and do my post on an outdated Mac G5! I don't even have stop
motion software. I shoot my animation with a second hand digital still camera,
one frame at a time.
SRW: God bless Macs.
Finally, your latest film is Outpost Earth (2019),
which brings us full circle back to the Post Apocalyptic scenario. Are you
feeling ready to embark on an entire new run of post apocalyptic adventures,
Brett?
BP: Not really. I wouldn't mind doing another one if a
decent story occurred to me, but I have no such plans at this time.
SRW: It’s another ambitious undertaking, possibly the best
looking of all of your films. Is this due to advances in technology (such as
the dreaded…shudder…CGI)?
BP: Don't give me that CGI crap again, buster. I think I've
disabused you of that notion. You'd be surprised how primitive some of the
effects set-ups were. I needed a rig for the flying spaceship models so I tore
the seat off a desk chair and clamped a two-by-four to the base. The shots of
the Outpost itself were done with a miniature in Ken's driveway backed up with
leftover foam cliffs from Triclops. Not exactly the kind of thing to
impress the folks at WETA. I do agree that Outpost is one of my best
looking films, which is partly a matter of cheaper and more efficient
technology, but mostly just experience. I'm getting better at my job. Making
movies is a constant learning experience.
SRW: Whew, this was lengthy. Thanks for being a good sport,
Brett, and answering my sometimes rambling questions. What’s up next for you?
Tell the readers where they can find your flicks or you.
BP: Redneck Mutants, now in production! More bug-eyed
goofy monster stop-motion high-jinks, with a cast of favorites including Ken
Van Sant in a dual role! Look for it ---
I don't know, it'll be out there somewhere!
I know it sounds like a new Sy-Fy movie starring Beverly Hills 90102 refugees, but Snowmageddapocalypse's here, folks, and it's happening. And by its fierceness, it appears to be damn proud of it. Get used to it! Eat it, Winter.
As much as I'd like to blame President Trump for this one, he gets a rare pass from me. It's all about global warming. (Wait, has Trump accepted global warming as a reality yet? Or does that reside with Santa Claus, kindness, and Meryl Streep as a good actress in his bed-side fairy tale book?) I 'spose I shouldn't be so harsh on global warming. Last year, we were (short-term) blessed with a relatively calm winter. This year? Like Forrest's box of chocolates, you just never know what yore gonna get. A week ago, from morning 'til mid-afternoon, I was jazzed by the weather, had to change into a lighter jacket, had the friggin' window down. If I had hair, it would've been blowing back to the songs of Bruce Springsteen as I drove down the highway. (What? I'm old!).
Hours later, winter had a change of mind. Six inches of snow dropped in a matter of hours. That was round one of the three installment storm. Grudgingly, I trawled outside, started shoveling. My back screamed, I nearly fell several times. Panting, I had to take several breaks (thankfully, not a hip), a first. You know, where were all those enterprising kids who used to constantly hassle me about shoveling my drive for $5? Although, come to think of it, I believe back in my youth I just let the snow ride until nature took care of it. Now, of course, those kids are nowhere to be found. Could be I chased 'em off one time to many ("You dumb kids get offa my lawn!"). Regardless, eight hours later, I had to clear the driveway again. It's getting kinda old. As we jumped in our car during single digit temperatures, I told my wife "this weather's for the birds." She said, "no, no, they don't like it either." She had a point. I mean one snowstorm is pretty. Two is weary acceptance. Third time causes cursing and indignant fury and day drinking and wanting to fly South.
I think I'm gonna shoot that stupid groundhog (hey, it's Kansas; even priests carry guns). I guarantee he'll never see another shadow.
Snow's one thing. But the ice? That's a whole different monster. Driving on it's about as impossible as arguing with someone on social media: you can't see them and they're impossible to negotiate.
Part of the horrific weather is due to the Midwest. We've come to expect rough winters. But nothing like this. I dread how much worse it'll get in upcoming years. Guess we'll find out in...Snowmageddapocalypse II (starring Ian Ziering and Paris Hilton as the brilliant astro-physicist/metereologist.) Speaking of horrible snowstorms, did you guys hear about the storm that forced various serial killers, an abusive husband, a hit man, a couple of gangsters, a runaway wife, and her daughter to take refuge in a very spooky and mysterious bed and breakfast? No? Well, what're you waiting for? It'll warm you up while chilling your blood: Dread and Breakfast.
Meet Brett Piper, legendary (well, at least in my “circles”)
Renaissance man of the exploitation/genre world of independent film-making.
No, this isn't Brett Piper, but it is one of his offspring.
The
guy’s been cranking ‘em out for about forty years and not only does he write
and direct all of his films, he does the special effects as well (including a
lotta painstaking stop-motion work). Brett was kind (brave) enough to show up
for an interview. Let’s grill!
Stuart R. West: Hey, Brett, thanks for agreeing to be my guest.
Brett Piper: It's an honor and a pleasure.
SRW: Before we break down your filmography, I’d like to ask
some general questions. I assume you’re not making killer bank by going the
independent film-making route, but you’ve been at it since the ‘80’s. I know
stop-motion animation can’t be easy (I remember an interview where you said a
seven second sequence took days and days of hard work). Why do it?
BP: Oh, come on --- why do painters paint? Why does a
pianist play the piano? Why does the President make an ass of himself? Because
it's what they do!
SRW: Well, thanks for keeping stop-motion animation alive (and in total agreement, particularly regarding the president).
You’re one of the few who dabble in this painstaking artform in this era of soulless CGI. I’m sure
your influences are who fans would suspect: Willis O’Brien, Ray Harryhausen,
Jiri Barta, Ladislav Starevicz, Art Clokey (Bert I. Gordon?). Do any of the
young artsy-fartsy stop-motion animators trip your trigger?
BP: I'm afraid I'd be hard pressed to name one. I sometimes
see stuff on line I like. A lot of people like to experiment with the
technique, which is great. As it becomes less commercially viable there seem to
be more and more people doing it. But I hate Lego animation. Don't ask me why.
It just seems like the crappiest level of the art form. Now I hate myself for
saying that because it sounds so elitist, but what the hell. We all have to
have our standards.
SRW: One thing I really like about your films is you always
have a good sense of humor at play in them. Does this start with your scripts?
Is it an organic process with the actors? Is there room for improvisation? Do you
intend to make them funny or does it just happen (kinda what goes on with my books)?
BP: I don't think I can make a movie that doesn't take at
least a slightly humorous approach. All the best movies contain humor. King
Kong has jokes, so does Citizen Kane. And the types of movies I make
shouldn't take themselves too seriously anyway.Honestly, if someone
asked me for the one piece of advice I would give to make the world a better
place (like anyone's going to ask me that) I'd say “Lighten up!” People
take themselves too damn seriously. Life is tragic enough without taking any
more of the fun out of it. I'm not sure I'm answering your question. Let's just
say that Kong and Harryhausen may have been my biggest inspiration, but
the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges and The Goon Show, among many others,
are right up there too. As for improvisation, I like to encourage it up to a
point, but some actors, just a few, have taken that as a license to argue over
every scene. You can't be doing that on a five day shoot.
SRW: Alright! Let’s jump into the Way-Back Machine and
travel back to 1982 for Mysterious Planet,
your first film. You started out with huge ambitions on a clearly low budget.
It’s kinda bold to make a galaxy-hopping, science-fiction saga, but you pulled
it off (even if the stop-motion giant 2-headed snail is a better thespian than
the human actors). In this film, you’re using animation, matte paintings
(there’s a really cool skull mountain), effective miniatures, the list goes on.
But I gotta be honest, Brett, the script seems to be formed around the special
effects. So, it’s that age-old question, what came first? The script or the
special effects?
BP: Mysterious Island. I wanted to make a movie like
that but with spaceships. And yes, it was written around effects set pieces (as
were Harryhausen's movies). I got into movie making so I could build monsters
and bring them to life on screen.
SRW: You brought things back down to earth for your next
film, Dying Day. I was shocked to
find out I even had a copy of this hard-to-find film on an extra of the
(ludicrous) film Raiders of the Living
Dead. The history behind this film is a long and convoluted one, so I’m
tasking you with summing it up succinctly and interestingly for my readers.
Ready? Go!
BP: I thought it might be easier to sell a package of films
than to sell them one by one so I wrote six scripts, intending to shoot them
back to back. Some were pretty elaborate (a giant monster movie, another space
opera) and some were simpler (werewolf, zombies). The zombie story was the simplest so I
started with that. When it was finished I pitched it to a number of companies
including Sam Sherman's Independent International. They liked it, haggled over
money, and finally bought it. Then they watched the whole thing and
found out it was only something like an hour long. They complained, I shot new
footage, which didn't matter anyway because they only used my movie for stock
footage in making Raiders of the Living Dead. They kept telling me how
thrilled I was going to be when I saw it. I caught it for the first time on USA
Network's “Saturday Nightmares”. These are the times you have to remind
yourself not to take life too seriously. My sister watched it also and later
said to me, “When you made that movie, didn't it have a plot?” The real
joke it that when Variety ran a mini-review of the movie the only parts they liked were the bits of my original
footage that were used. Boffo.
SRW: For what it’s worth, I liked it better than Raiders. Although extremely dark in
places and hard to see (hey, I know it’s an unfinished film), and a little hard
to follow (thank God for the noiresque narration), there are
some effective horror set-pieces. After making Mysterious Planet, were you just itching to do something a little
less ambitious? How do you feel about Dying
Day now?
BP: I haven't see it since I finished it (nor would I care
to). I'm sure it's crap, although it was originally well shot crap. I
would guess that the version you saw was a bad transfer from the work print.
Look for the splices!
SRW: Well, anything you learned (or didn’t) from Mysterious
Planet didn’t take, because you’re at it again with 1986’s Galaxy! In addition to space travel, planet hopping, wild aliens,
you’ve also tossed in the end of the world. What was the budget for this nuttily
ambitious film?
BP: About $60,000, a good deal more than Dying Day
had cost. And it's original title was Battle for the Lost Planet. I
don't know where Galaxy came from.
SRW: Let’s chat about your use of recurring actors. The
first one I noticed is Matt Mitler, who plays unreliable narrator/hero Harry
Trent. Is it easier to work with actors you’re familiar with? Do you write to
their strengths? (I mean it can’t be a coincidence that this same actor,
playing the same character in your next movie, is so cool, he wears his
sunglasses indoors; there oughta be a law).
BP: It depends. Sometimes I write parts for specific
performers which are then played by other people entirely. The lead in They
Bite was written for Deborah Quayle, who had starred in Mutant War. She
turned it down (repeatedly) because it was a non-union movie and she didn't
want to get in trouble with SAG. I don't
think she made another movie for twenty
years. The lead in Screaming Dead was written for Bevin McGraw from Arachnia,
a very talented actress and one of the few bright spots in the making of
that piece of crap. She loved the script
at first then changed her mind because she thought making a movie for EI/Pop
Cinema would type her as a porn actress which, I think she later realized, was
pretty stupid. Anyway, I sometimes write
for people I want to work with again, mostly because casting is the hardest
part of making these movies. I'm not working in California where you get all
the actors you need at any restaurant. Even casting in NYC is no picnic. The
ratio of acceptable actors to applicants is like a hundred to one.
Literally. Once I find actors I'm happy
with I tend to stick with them.
SRW: Okay, while your hero is stranded in space for years,
he makes a “pillow woman.” I’m saying it here first, “Wilson” from Cast Away was pilfered from your film.
BP: Yeah, like they're big fans of my work...
SRW: Again, there are many great effects from the pig-faced
aliens to the mutant beasties to the destruction of earth, but what stands out
for me are the little things. I love the ending where the blow-hard hero is
giving a “rah-rah” speech and his allies walk away. Scripted? Or improvised?
BP: Scripted.
SRW: 1986 saw Galaxy’s
sequel: Mutant War. Was Galaxy financially successful enough to
warrant a sequel or was this a purely creative decision?
BP: Not a creative decision at all. Lost Planet/Galaxy
was sold to some goniff who wanted me to make another one for him but kept
shooting down all my ideas. I finally realized what he really wanted was the
same movie all over again so I wrote a sequel and Harry Trent flew again.
SRW: Again, Harry Trent’s up to his neck in bad-boy/good-guy
planet-hopping shenanigans (and take off the damn sunglasses already! You’re
indoors. Honestly!). And, hey! There’s infamous character actor Cameron
Mitchell (who shows up at the 1:04 mark only to exit a few minutes later). I’ve
read Cam was hard to get along with in the later days. Was his “video box
marquee value” worth it?
BP: He shows up at the beginning? Probably to sucker all
those Cameron Mitchell fans who rented the movie just for him. The movie was
drastically recut after I handed it over so I wouldn't know. Mitchell was a
pussycat. I enjoyed working with a him great deal, even if he was only there
two days. By the end of the first day we were swapping old time show business
anecdotes like we'd worked together all our lives. Later, though, in an
interview with Fangoria he denied any memory of the movie. I fired off a
letter saying “Cameron Mitchell said ours was the worst location he'd seen in
all his years in the business --- you'd think he'd remember that!”
SRW: Okay, Brett, here’s where I noticed the first instance
of one of your recurring themes: the enhanced eyeball. (I know, weird, right?)
There’s a cyborg bad guy and a battle wagon with eyeballs! You revisit this
theme quite a bit. Um, some past trauma? Or just cool effects?
BP: What? A battle wagon with eyeballs? I have no idea. And
wasn't the cyborg an alien mercenary and not really a villain? Anyway, the
movie I'm working on now has another bug eyed guy, so maybe you're on to
something.
SRW: 1990 was a big year for you as we finally (finally!)
leave what I like to call your Post Apocalyptic era. But you’re up for destroying
the world one last time with A Nymphoid
Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell. Yikes, that’s some title. But then when I found
out who released it, it was no surprise. Boom! You were Tromatized! I’ve read
this was your most popular film. I’ve gotta ask…was that the original title? Or
did Lloyd Kauffman (notorious cheapskate and bad taste monger behind Troma
Studios) force that on you? Was there any other interference?
BP: The original title was The Dark Fortress, and it
took place on another planet, not a post apocalyptic Earth. Lloyd had nothing
to do with the making of the movie. He bought the finished movie and re-titled
it Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell. A great title. I laughed my ass
off.
SRW: Was your experience with Troma a good one? Educational?
BP: Making movies is always educational. Mostly you learn
about things you never want to go through again. Although I wrote a sequel to Nymphoid
which I pitched to Troma. Lloyd liked it, and all he wanted me to do was raise
the money, produce the film myself, and then hand it over to him. I politely
declined. He got pissed, thinking that I'd reneged on a deal, even though we
never had a deal. In time he got over it. In fact, when I saw him again at a
convention in New Jersey he'd gotten over it so well I don't think he even
remembered me.
SRW: I noticed a matte painting in the film that bears a
suspicious resemblance to Troma’s signature logo/opening of an orange-hued
skyline. Do I need to get my eyes checked?
BP: I have no idea. It rings no bells.
SRW: Moving along to one of my favorite of your films,
1996’s They Bite. Everything seemed
to gel here: you’d created characters I actually liked and cared about; the
comedy’s very funny; there’s good chemistry between the decidedly offbeat leads
(a porn director with artistic ambitions and a scrappy, down-on-her-luck
ichthyologist); the greatest wet t-shirt contest scene ever disrupted by a
monster; and naturally, great effects. Did you decide to change things up a
bit? The overall tone seems more playful than before.
BP: Bill Links wanted me to make him a movie with “fish
monsters and tits”. Apparently he believed such a combination couldn't fail.
His template was Humanoids From The Deep, which was kind of a nasty
picture, but the script I sent him was something else entirely. “It's a comedy!”
he said. “Bill,” I said, “it's a movie with fish monsters and tits. How
serious did you expect me to make it?”
SRW: Which brings us to the “white elephant” in the room. Of
course I’m talking about the legendary thespian, Ron Jeremy. I don’t even want
to know how he ended up in your movie. No, wait, scratch that, I DO want to
know…
BP: The white, hairy elephant with the enormous trunk. Links
hired him. I guess they were pals and Links thought the Jeremy name would help
sell the movie. He was a pretty talented performer and a monumental pain in the
ass.
SRW: While not as ambitious plot-wise as your
Post-Apocalyptic cycle, the movie still has a lot of ambition. It serves as a
fun exploitation/monster flick, but is also a loving pastiche of the ‘50’s wave
of sci-fi films, from the music to the question mark ending to the famous
quote, “Keep watching the skies.” And I’d be remiss without mentioning the
hilarious, brilliant black and white monster movie trailer dropped into the film
as a character’s nightmare. One of my favorite things you’ve done.
BP: Invasion of the Fish F@#$ers. That was almost
fun. If I'm not mistaken we shot that mostly in one night with strippers Links
had shanghaied from a nearby club. He brought them by one night with absolutely
no warning. We just sort of winged it.
The crappy looking monster suits in that segment were supposed to be the
real monsters in the movie, made by a guy in upstate New York who'd
worked on one of the Toxic Avenger movies. The suits were so bad they were
falling apart as we took them out of the box. I actually had to make them look better
before we could use them as our crappy suits.
SRW: There’s also a lot of satire in the film. You take jabs
at porn, filmmaking, censorship, and a very meddlesome producer. Gotta ask…was
he based on someone from your past experiences?
BP: No, he was based on someone from our then current
experience.
SRW: Here we enter the second phase of your career, the
Voyeuristic/Eyeball Era! We start with Draniac (2000), a transitional film.
There’s a marked shift in tone. The settings become more insular and not as varied and the stories generally rely on one big idea instead of a lot of
them. Basically, you’ve decided to stay on earth for a while. Was this for
budgetary reasons or had your interests changed?
BP: Mostly budgetary reasons. Drainiac was, after
Mysterious Planet, my cheapest movie to date, and it was made ten or more
years later.
SRW: I’d also noticed a new influence creeping (see what I
did there?) into your work: H.P. Lovecraft. (Well, the “Miskatonic Road”
name-drop was kinda a giveaway). I see more Lovecraft horror than
science-fiction in this set of films.
BP: Probably. Drainiac and The Dark Sleep are
my only overtly Lovecraftian films, although contrary to what it says on the
box Dark Sleep was not “based on”Lovecraft's work.
SRW: Not to say Draniac’s without humor. There’s still
plenty of that in the plumber exorcist, the annoying Jerry Lewis character, and
other things. The exorcism’s an undisputed highlight. There’s an invigorating
anything goes sense to the scene. Was Hammer Film’s The Devil Rides Out an influence? Was the film structured around
that sequence? Do you sometimes rush through dialogue scenes to get to the fun
stuff?
BP: Less Hammer films, more Hong Kong ghost stories. In fact
a friend of mine brought her fiance, who was from Hong Kong, to see part of the
movie and he picked up on the Chinese influence immediately, which was kind of
gratifying. And the scene the movie was
structured around was actually the girl in the bath tub, which makes it one of
the least gratuitous nude scenes in movie history, contrary to what some
might say.
SRW: From 2002 comes Psyclops,
where you’re really embracing your voyeuristic/eyeball theme. This movie’s
about the ultimate voyeur, a (semi) mad scientist who fuses with an
otherworldly video camera. Lotsa influences here from Brian DePalma’s
voyeuristic prowling camera to Alfred Hitchcock (Rear Window). A character
even quotes Hitchcock. Lovecraft again, maybe even a little Cronenberg. But I
wonder if the film’s not a comment on the intrusive nature of so-called
“reality” TV. Or is it, just, you know, an icky, gooey, messy horror film?
BP: It was an attempt to save some bucks by shooting part of
the movie on video! Not a very successful attempt, I might add.
SRW: Heh, yeah, not one of my favorites. Alright, we’re introduced to another of your go-to
actor guys (five films in a row!), Rob Monkiewicz. Through the films, it’s
interesting to watch Rob’s evolution as an actor. Here, he’s clearly
uncomfortable in his own skin, playing against type as a pseudo-nerd tucked
into a button-down shirt and spectacles, when he’s clearly a body-building
slab.
BP: True. After Psyclops I'd write parts that fit
better with Rob's persona. He was a pleasure to work with and I'd still be
using him if he hadn't given up on all this nonsense.
SRW: Arachnia (2003)
is a movie my wife will never watch. I seem to recall your having said that
it’s easier to animate bugs than fictional creatures. Is that why you use so
many in this run of films?
BP: It's easier and more fun and they make great monsters.
Just ask your wife!
SRW: After the darker Psyclops,
the humor in Arachnia is very much in evidence again. In fact, it seems like it’s nearly a
spoof as you check off all requisite items from the exploitation/horror
checklist: plane crash; a cabin in the woods; old timer with shotgun; stuffy
scientist; bimbos; gratuitous bathtub scene; Skinemax saxophone; horny comic
relief guy (HIM I could live without.) Script by checklist?
BP: Yep. It very much was a deliberate spoof, an homage
if you will to old fashioned drive-in movies.
SRW: Rob’s back and a little more confident. First, he’s
shed his glasses. Second, he’s freely more macho. Did you and Rob actually
“work out a character” or did he just take screen direction? How do you prefer
to handle actors?
BP: Yes, as I said I was writing for a known quantity now. I like to hire actors I don't need to direct.
This doesn't happen very often but when it does it's a pleasure. Donna
Frotscher from They Bite is a perfect example. The only directions I had
to give her were things like “You stand here” or “You come in on his line.”
Other than that she was perfect. As John Huston said, 95% of
direction is casting the right actors. Otherwise my motto is let 'em do
whatever they want as long as it fits in the movie. It makes the actors happy
and it saves me a lot of grief. Once in
a while an actor will ask me why they're not getting more direction. My answer
is “You're doing fine, I'll let you know if there's a problem.”
SRW: Screaming Dead
from 2003 introduces (inexplicably) popular softcore porno actress, Misty
Mundae, to your films. How was she to get along with?
BP: At first she seemed pleased to finally be in a “real”
movie. We developed a bit of a rapport. But I don't think she was happy with her
place in the cinematic universe, and her relationship with the studio was
deteriorating, so although we got along fine on Screaming Dead things
became increasingly difficult on the successive movies.
SRW: The film’s clearly about exploitation as art (and is
certainly one of your kinkier movies). The artist in question here is a sleazy
photographer taking pictures of models in a purportedly haunted building. The
theme is played upon again and again, cleverly encapsulated when we see a
reflection of the artist’s subject in his eye. Do you consider yourself, as a
filmmaker, the ultimate voyeur? Or is that a title best saved for we, your
audience?
BP: All movies are voyeuristic by nature, aren't they? But
that's not really what Screaming Dead was all about.
SRW: Okay, I missed that one. Brett, tell me…all lofty pretensions aside, is
this just a sexploitation riff on The
Haunting of Hill House?
BP: Nope. It was a dig at some of the slimeballs I've met in
this business. It was about the way some
aspiring actresses will allow themselves to be abused and sometimes degraded by
so-called “artists”, frequently by people who are less interested in making a
movie than in playing domination games with naive girls. I've seen those kinds
of games being played and they pissed me off.
Remember the scene in the movie where Rob says to the photographer “For
fifty bucks I could have your legs broken, but in your case I'd rather do it
myself?” That was me. I said that to another “director” who was pulling that
kind of stuff with some actresses I knew.
SRW: Good on you!
Bite Me!
(2004) is a lot of fun. It starts frenetically with many different couples in
varying scenarios and never lets up. (I’d say it’s my favorite right up there
with They Bite.) You simply can’t go
wrong with a plot detailing strippers fighting killer bugs. Plus there’s a
fifty foot statue of Godzilla behind the strip club. There’s an almost kitchen
sink approach to the entire enterprise, but it works. Did you approach this
film the same way as your earlier ones?
BP: Mike Raso came to me with the title and an idea about
killer bugs. It seemed okay to me so I wrote up a script and away we went.
BP: Well, it should have been. The whole idea
of setting the movie in a strip club came when I asked the actresses what kind
of parts they'd like to play and the woman who was supposed to be the lead said she wanted to
play a stripper before she got too old. So I wrote the script accordingly and
then she bailed on us before shooting started. I had to rearrange all the
parts, like musical chairs. Misty was supposed to play the lazy stripper but
she got bumped up to the lead, everyone else got shuffled around. Caitlin Ross,
who ended up in the lazy part, was originally supposed to play the cop. We
ended up one short so the cop was finally played by a singer who I met at a
recording studio next door. She did her best.
SRW: Well, I'm cutting us off right there. Join us again in two weeks for the conclusion of Brett Piper's extensive career retrospective interview where he'll share more tales of toiling in the film-making fringes. Same bat-time, same bat- channel...
