"Revenge is a dish best served cold." So says the ubiquitous and mysterious "They." Lotsa tough guys (the kind who stitch their own wounds up) say it all the time in noirs and endless Liam Neeson revenge films (and truly, if your dad is Liam Neeson...emancipate yourself kids! Now!).
But what the hell does it mean? I've always pondered this strange saying. For one thing, I would think that revenge should be served up hot, because if you're seeking revenge, you're probably damn hot under the collar.
Second, why is it being served? Does Liam Neeson have a chef on call who follows him around on his daily doses of revenge-driven carnage? Does he wear the funny, poofy white chef's hat and tell the Neeson-mangled and beaten body laying in the street "you've been served, monsieur," with a crisp, put-upon French chuckle? Does he ask Neeson things like "Does monsieur prefer his revenge served cold or hot today?"
I tell ya, it makes no sense. It's enough to keep me up at night. And it does. So in the wee hours of the morning, I turned to my faithful research assistant, Ms. Google.
The quote is widely attributed to French author Pierre Choderlos de Laclos (why do the French have to have so many names?) in his 1782 novel Les Liaisons dangereuses. Or if you ask the geek contingent, they'll claim it's an ancient Klingon proverb. (I'd prefer to not ask them. Too often I hit my head in their mother's basements.)
Regardless, there's no clear answer as to what the saying means. One person suggests that seeking revenge is more satisfying if you put it off for a while (thus the "dish" growing cold). Another explanation is that if you seek to enact your revenge on someone who has wronged you, you won't be successful because the evil-doer is expecting retaliation. Thus, again, wait until the dish has cooled off than go in swinging. Or serving. Or eating. Or whatever.
These food metaphors really get my goat. Here's another one: "You can't have your cake and eat it too." Well...yes...yes you can! It's the whole point of ordering cake, for crying out loud.
I dunno. I think we need to ban food metaphors. It would make my universe much easier to understand.
And outside of Liam Neeson, do we "normals" really need to be worrying about serving up revenge, hot or cold?
Well, get ready, folks. Because if a certain "mandarin candidate" gets into the White House again, we can expect four years of ludicrous revenge, Neeson style. Only it won't be served cold. It'll likely be served IN ALL YELLY CAPS ON TRUTH SOCIAL!!!
Now that I'm done and kicked over my soap box, let's get to the hype portion of my post: check out my Tex, the Witch Boy series. It's got everything: humor, the supernatural, mystery, suspense, action, romance, and I'm pretty sure I included a kitchen sink in a couple of the books. Check out the series that nobody's talking about here!
No, that's not the real name of the place, nor is it the HBO prison where love reigns, and I haven't lost the ability to differentiate between fiction and reality. It's a sorta, sometimes nickname for the lil' small (but big on charm!) town in which my daughter has decided to set her roots.
As a banker, her job is varied, which I guess is kinda par for the course for small towns. She runs the gamut of doing banking chores, personal crisis counseling, and scoping out plots of land for customers to bury bodies on. But the most curious thing she does is run errands for the town's crazy lady.
One time while visiting, she told me she dreaded going to work tomorrow. I asked her why.
"Because I have to go on a grocery run for...(honestly, I can't think of her name and even if I could, I wouldn't publish it) 'Mabel.'"
"Huh," I said. "So she must be a good customer."
"No, she's not a customer."
SOOOO many crickets. My brain ground through rusty cogs and wheels and gizmos. "But...but...but why are you going to get her groceries if she's not a customer? And even if she was a customer, isn't that going beyond the realm of good customer service?" (Side note: this small and quaint town is soooo small and quaint, it doesn't have a grocery store. You have to go to Walmart in the next town over. There're three tattoo parlors, three nail salons, 800 churches, and a bar, but no grocery store!)
"I don't know," she said. "It's just something everybody does!"
"WHAAAA? And she's not a customer??? But...but...what strange witchery is this?"
The witch of Oz's back story gets even weirder/stranger/awesome, depending on how you view it. Once, when my daughter's boss went to her house because she beckoned, she answered the door without any pants on. And one day she came into the bank with no eyebrows.
"Someone broke into my house and burnt my eyebrows off," she explained with a straight face and no eyebrows.
But my daughter (and a lot of the town's members) often go on errands for her, hauling a 20 pound bag of potatoes up two flights of steps. Sorcery!
Here's the best part: the woman pays my daughter off in ice cream drumsticks! (Where does she get this endless supply since they're never on her shopping list? Perhaps she's a rich, eccentric drumstick heiress.)
Yes, through either sorcery or subtle psychological manipulation, Mabel has the town do her bidding, and while under her thrall, her minions are helpless as they scramble to get cigarettes and TV dinners for her. Is she a good witch or a bad witch? The verdict's still out. Just beware of strangers bearing drumsticks.
Speaking of witches, one factors in mightily in one of the tales in my darkly comical and spooky collection of horror tales, Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley. As a matter of fact, the small town in which this peculiar tale is set is very similar to "Oz." Could it be...a TRUE STORY?
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!
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...