Friday, April 26, 2019

Rockin' out with Horror author Leo Darke


SRW: I’m stoked to have man of mystery and stellar horror author, Leo Darke, on my blog today, yakking up his new book, Lucifer Sam. It’s a great, potent read about all things demonic and rock ‘n roll. Like the best rock music, it’s daring, edgy, and dangerous. Alright, enough from me, here comes Leo.
Thanks for answering my questions and agreeing to being grilled, Leo.

LD: No worries, Stuart, happy to have my head examined. It might get messy though…

SRW: Okay, Leo, let’s start a little with you. Your bio says you (in)famously were fired for being too scary as an actor. Are we talking Boris Karloff scary or can’t act Keanu Reeves scary? Details, please.

LD: We’re talking the horrible love child of Freddy Krueger and Richard III. I wore an old highwayman coat, noose round my neck, undertaker hat and Alice Cooper make-up. Once the supervisor did a check on me as I ‘entertained’ the crowd in the Guy Fawkes exhibit. He said afterwards he had genuine spine shivers. You see, you were supposed to make light of the horrors of the museum and camp it up in a silly Monty Python way. I was having none of that. My favorite saying was ‘wanna feel the caress of my noose?’  I pretended my neck was broken and I’d freak ‘em out before even entering the exhibit room where the audience were waiting by slowly, slowly creaking the door open and then shuffling inside. You could hear a pin drop. I remember one teenage girl huddled in a corner begging me not to come towards her. They told me to tone it down and when I didn’t, they sacked my ass.

SRW: Good times!

Leo, give everyone a brief synopsis of Lucifer Sam. And make it rawk! (Puts out the sign of the horns).

LD: Cat O’Nine Tails, a mega successful rock band, are flying over the Indian Ocean in their private jet on a world tour when they suddenly drop out of air space completely. Then the jet reappears six months later in exactly the same position. The band are back, but this time they’re different. This time their music really is Killer…

SRW: Clearly, you know a little bit about the rock industry. The writing in your novel is very assured and your descriptions of the music and the industry read like an insider’s P.O.V. Am I onto something or are you just brilliant with research?

LD: Been in a couple of bands but I was sacked from the first one ‘cause I couldn’t play bass (sound familiar, Sid fans?) and the second band I changed up to the front man. It was called Lucifer Sam… we imploded messily before anything really happened for us. Apart from that, I grew up following punk bands. That’s all the insider info I have. I remember Animal from The Anti-Nowhere League loving a book I wrote years ago called Rags for the Doctor Who series of original novels. He was in it described as a complete monster, and the big bugger didn’t mind at all. He sent me a signed T Shirt as a thank you. This time around I name drop the Cockney Rejects and Micky Geggus in particular. Micky helps Kirk to find the ‘hero’ in his old manor in the East End. ‘Manor’ means home streets to Cockneys, by the way, US readers, not a country mansion!! He was pleased as punch to be in it too. Though he hasn’t read it yet!
SRW: Speaking from experience, I was kinda’, sorta’ in a band in my younger days (although of a much different ilk; I guess you’d categorize it as country-funk, improvisational, comedy performance art). But you captured the extreme love/hate relationships that develop between band members based purely on proximity, so close you start despising each others’ body odors. Any band experience in your background?

LD: My first band I wanted to call Lucifer Sam, but the singer wanted it to be a punk covers band, so he invited a prog rock guitarist to join. Makes sense, right? This moron wanted to play all the punk covers note perfectly. Kinda missing the point of punk in the first place. He didn’t like my nascent, clumsy fumblings with the bass so asked for me to be booted. I then formed the proper Lucifer Sam with me as singer, a friend on drums, and two drunks on guitar and bass. We had some great songs which are referenced in the novel, but the guitarist and bass player got very pissed one night before practice and ignited, threatening each other. The band was over.  The members of the fictional Lucifer Sam are nothing like the real ones. They’re a lot worse!

SRW: You name-drop a lotta fairly obscure bands (well, at least obscure here in God-forsaken Kansas), such as The Damned, Motorhead (with Lemmy, natch), and Hawkwind (Hawkwind, for crying out loud! I haven’t given them a second thought since my weed-stoked high school days!), amongst many others. Are these favorites? What is your favorite style of rock? “Non-suckesque” is mine.

LD: Always loved the Damned since I was a kid, though I saw them a year ago and they bored the pants off me. Real shame. They’d gotten old and were just going through well rehearsed paces. Lemmy… what can I say about Lemmy? I saw Motorhead many years back with the original trio when I was a child. Stone Dead Forever still goose bumps me. It’s just the perfect dirty, glorious rock song. I did a pilgrimage to The Rainbow in LA in February and sat in Lemmy’s chair at the bar. Crazy night. The Rainbow is a wild, amazing place where anything can happen…


SRW: Alright, let’s dig into the book. We all know the adage about “sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll.” In your book, you’ve changed that battle-cry a bit, I think, to “sex, violence, and rock ‘n roll.” You certainly don’t skimp on any of the topics, making for a sobering, shocking, and, at times, grotesque read. (Even the Detective-Sergeant in your book likes her sex on the violent side.) I know it’s a horror book, first and foremost, but do you view rock music as violent? I ask because in your prose, you’re always “shredding” guitars, “beating” drums, “slashing” vocals…the list goes on.

LD: I grew up with punk in the early 80s and it was incredibly violent. There were always fights. Nasty ones. I suppose that became ingrained into me, into my outlook on live music. Even today I’ll go into a gig expecting trouble. Luckily it doesn’t happen so much these days.  I equate punk and some rock music with the violence of slasher films in many ways. The stab of Jason’s machete is like a savage guitar riff in my fiction I guess. Killing Joke were particularly manic back in the day, their hypnotic layers of insane music letting loose all the dogs of hell in my mind. Violence leaped from their records, setting all sorts of wild thoughts free. So yes, all this influenced my take on how brutal music can be and how mesmerizing. I wanted to catch that giddy sense of threat and mayhem in my prose.

SRW: Okay, time to play spot the band! Who is the satanic, past their prime, primping and posing Cat o’ Nine Tails patterned after?

LD: Haha. Couldn’t possibly reveal that. Don’t want Grinning Skull to get sued! Or me for that matter. Despite my piss take, I’m kinda fond of their perseverance and some of their music. Of course, they might not be based on anyone…. Obviously not Motorhead. The music Industry is a lot poorer without Lemmy. Killed by Death indeed.
SRW: I certainly have my suspicions, but I'll likewise keep them to myself. How about the titular punk band, Lucifer Sam?

LD: Definitely my own invention, a stew of different influences from Bauhaus and the Cramps to Lords of the New Church and early Damned, all stirred in one big Voodoo Pot.

SRW: Is “Rock!” magazine meant to be a riff on Rolling Stone or Spin? How about any of the staff?

LD: Never read them. Probably more based on crappy rags like NME. Sounds was a whole lot better.

SRW: So, is anything off-limits with your writing? I mean, that groupie scene was really, really gross. And disturbing (the nature of horror, I know, but...c'mon!).


LD: I thought a lot about deleting that scene, or at least toning it down. It goes horribly too far, but yet seemed perfectly right, too! I knew it would be the scene that made or broke the book. The one plus ultra if you like.  It summed up the nature of the transformed band in a way like no other I guess. The absence of light in them, the void in their souls, the ugly dark they’d let in.  My big worry would be that it would be seen as gross for its own sake, and misogynistic. A risk I had to take to tell the tale as honestly as I could. Some people will hate it. That chapter is my Make them Die Slowly. No animals were killed in the making of this book. Groupies though? Not so sure.

 
SRW: The further I dove into your nightmarish rock ‘n roll world, another theme came into focus: a call for anarchy and upsetting the status quo. Naturally, the satanic Cat of Nine Tails take things too far (it’s horror, folks!), but you seem enamored with punk bands such as the Sex Pistols and the Dead Boys, whose bleak outlook borders on violence for violence’s sake, or at the very least, overturning authority. Even your two heroes, Kirk and Ray, want to drastically change things. Are there deep-rooted issues we need to discuss, Leo? Here, lay down on the sofa, Dr. West is on the clock…

LD: Hmmm, good question again, Stuart. Always hated real violence, and the morons who dish it out mindlessly in the streets, pubs and schools. The Sex Pistols made you feel violent, but I always preferred smashing things not people! I think Johnny Rotten would agree with that. He was always a smart cookie. No fighter. I always remember Captain Sensible of the Damned saying he’d much rather throw an egg than a punch. Happy to go along with that. Egging authority figures seems a good idea to me. Especially in Britain right now…

SRW: Yeesh, I feel your political pain. 

The finale of the book is extraordinarily suspenseful. I particularly loved the slow-burn dread of waiting for the huge-ass venue concert to begin. You reminded me of why I abhor big arena concerts, capturing that sense of claustrophobia and being ripped off while waiting to glimpse an ant-sized view of rock heroes. Like your protagonist, Kirk, I’d much rather watch a band play in a bar. Do you agree with this? C’mon, are you Kirk?

LD:  Absolutely, 100 %. Got no time for big bands in big venues. Never did, never will. There’s zero connection to the audience. I want to be close enough to spit on the buggers 😉 Filthy habit, lot of that went on in the early days.  I dreamed of being someone like Kirk a long time ago I suppose. The dream never came true, so I wrote about him instead.

SRW: Elvis Presley said “Rock and roll music, if you like it, if you feel it, you can’t help move to it. Then there’s the Chuck Berry quote, “If you want to release your aggression, get up and dance. That’s what rock and roll is.” And finally, Pete Wentz said, “What would rock and roll be without ambition, danger, craziness, and fun?” It seems like everyone wants to define rock. In your book, we see both the destructive and transformative power of rock and roll. Which camp do you tend to fall into, Leo?

LD: Well the Pistols had transformative music for sure, and outwardly destructive too, though Lydon was always much cleverer than that. His lyrics were insightful and provocative, while Steve Jones let loose Fall of Empire riffs, so I guess I was hugely influenced by the excitement of their approach. So to answer your question, both! Destructive AND transformative. Destroying the oppressive institutions that surround us while wishing for transformation... For something else, something better, which never comes along.

SRW: What are you working on now? Where can interested parties find more info?

LD: I have a literary agent over here in the UK who wants me to concentrate on Dark Crime. He’s flogging a very dark book around (or is it a dead horse?) to publishers at the moment. I’m keeping the horror for Grinning Skull!
SRW: Alright already! There you have it, folks. If you’re a hardcore horror fan, a rock fan, or just a fan of dang fine prose, be sure to pick up Leo’s masterful book (published by Grinning Skull Press), Lucifer Sam. Thanks for hangin’, Leo. The sign of the horns! Rock and roll!

LD: Been a pleasure, Stuart. Loved hangin’! Feel the caress of my noose…

Friday, April 19, 2019

Girl in a Box (TM)

New from Acme comes the incredible Girl in a Box (TM)! Perfect for the man-on-the-go, now you can take your Girl in a Box on a train, in a plane, with your friend, DeeWayne (laws may differ from state-to-state; Acme assumes no responsibility for legal action)! Call Girl in a Box today! And for a limited time, you can receive a free 16 ounce bottle of chloroform! That's Girl in a Box, 666-666-6666!

Okay, maybe I'd better back up a bit...

A while back my daughter wasn't allowed to drive (that's another horror story for another time, but fret not as I will get to it.). Thankfully, her house was just a mile from her work so she could walk.

Her mother didn't like that idea.

I asked my daughter why not.

"Because no matter what I do," she said, "every scenario from my mom ends with me getting put in a box."

I mulled this over a bit. "What?"

"It's true," she said. "Mom told me I can't walk to work because some guy could come along and put me in a box! Dad, why does someone want to put me in a box? Why would they want to do that?"

Honestly, I couldn't come up with a decent answer. But, man, did we ever have fun with it.

While working on my daughter's house, we left a big box in the living room with a sign that read, "Get in!" On Boxing Day, I called my daughter and in the best slashery voice I could muster, I said, "It's Boxing Day! Mwah, hah, hah, hahhhh!" During Christmas, I told my daughter to look out because I didn't want to find her in a box beneath the Christmas Tree. The sick jokes continued. Still do, for that matter. 

Of all the horrible scenarios I can think of, I don't believe I ever would've landed on The Box Ploy, but hey, whatever, different strokes for different folks. Could make a good book. Maybe.

Speaking of girls in boxes (talk about a clever segue, yeah?), read Dread and Breakfast to find out just how a girl in a box plays into the complex, labyrinthine web of dark secrets and murderous personalities! (Hey, I guess I did come up with that scenario some time ago, after all.)


Friday, April 12, 2019

Tripping the Art Macabre with Karen Ruffles


Something very special this week from my multi-talented artist and writer friend, Karen Ruffles, from across the pond. I'm absolutely stoked for her as she's embarking on an Arts Council sponsored tour, presenting what will surely be a mind-blowing experience. So, without further ado let's check in with Ruffles (and only I get to call her that because this Ruffles has ridges!), the gal of goth, the mistress of the macabre, the artist of darkness... (Just check out those gorgeous illustrations!).

This April sees the launch of Tales in Sombre Tones, a brand new horror anthology featuring short stories by American author Sean Walter and the work of British artist Karen Ruffles of Drawing in Dark. The book is an exciting prospect in itself as fully illustrated editions are a rare treat for adults but the pair have gone one better and created an Arts Council funded touring show that promises to deliver a wealth of sensory experiences.
Dates have been confirmed for the first leg which kicks off in the North East of England and sees Sean flying in to deliver his readings in person. From the former Methodist church that is Whitby's Brunswick Centre to contemporary gallery Vane in the heart of Newcastle, they are bringing not only the original illustrations but stop motion animation sequences from the stories and a hosted evening party led by DJ Jay Sinful.

In addition to tempting art lovers and fans of the darker side of literature, the tour makes sure audiences not normally catered for by exhibitions get a kick out of the show. 3d versions of the illustrations are being created for the blind and partially sighted so they can discover the artwork that accompanies the stories being read aloud. The readings themselves are supported by screened interpretations by BSL professional Sara Mclanaghan.

Once the first leg of the tour is completed, the materials along with footage from the tour are being added to their website so it can be enjoyed worldwide. Prints of the originals are being added to the 3d works and recordings of the readings so the tour can continue nationally and when it's been round the UK, internationally. 

To keep up with developments and grab a copy of the book, visit http://www.talesinsombretones.com of follow them on Facebook at www.facebook.com/TalesinSombreTones

There you have it, folks! Do support this unique and worthy talent. I know I'm gonna get a copy of the book. (I'll return to stoopid rants and what not next week.)

Friday, April 5, 2019

The great bird wall

Well, hell, the birds are back.


As that great forward thinker, Spiderman (or maybe it was President Trump), said, "With great power comes great guns." (Or something like that.)
I don't know why the birds hate me. They do. Constantly bombarding my auto and deck with their waste, it makes me just want to toss up both of my hands. I said, both. It's not gonna be pretty.

We're talking about some bad pajaro's here. Bad thrushes. Muy malo nestlings.
So I'm gonna build a wall. A wall keeping the birds out of my yard. I'm gonna make my yard great again. It's gonna be great. It's gonna be...fantastic. (It's gonna have to be a pretty dang tall wall, though).

And my neighbors are gonna pay for it, too.

Don't ask me how or why they're gonna finance the great bird wall. I just know they will. I can convince them. Just like in the eighth grade when I promised my fellow students if they'd vote for me for student congress, I'd put soda pop in the water fountains. Well, guess what? I won. Sure, sure, the soda didn't pan out, but that's not what matters.


This is all out war! If birds poop on my territory, I say, let's poop right back on them! Let's make pooping great again!*

*This has been a message endorsed by the Anti-Birds Trump Supporter Society.

Now that I'm on the topic of total crap, honestly, you should check out my Zach and Zora comedy/mystery trilogy. Let's start with the first: Bad Day in a Banana Hammock. (Likewise, these books are personally endorsed by the Anti-Birds Trump Supporter Society. Making books great again!).

Friday, March 29, 2019

America's Deadliest Parties!

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)!
 


Friday, March 22, 2019

More Tales from the Sofa

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



Friday, March 15, 2019

Grilling guerilla film-maker Brett Piper's back side (of his films, I mean! His films!)

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!