Special Edition: Jack Nicholson: A Life Made for the Screen By Shawn McKee

Good actors deliver convincing performances. Great actors transcend and connect, evoking a wide range of emotions that linger long after the credits roll. Few actors have made more of an impact in their field than legend of legends, Jack Nicholson.

As a three-time Academy Award winner and the most nominated actor in film history, Nicholson has dominated the scene since the 1970s. But getting there was no easy feat. His ambition, drive, raw-talent, and dedication to the craft were keys to his incredible success. He also happened upon a time when Hollywood was undergoing a tremendous artistic revival.

A New Era of Film

The social upheaval and political unrest at home during the Vietnam War gave birth to the New Hollywood movement of the ’60s and ’70s, pushing the industry toward artist-driven films. This brief renaissance era introduced a new generation of filmmakers, actors, and writers who helped redefine cinema in new and exciting ways.

Their films emulated a new realism seen in similar movements in European and Asian cinema while establishing unconventional narratives, anti-establishment themes, and clever subversion of the status quo. The emerging works of directors Martin Scorsese, Stanley Kubrick, Francis Ford Coppola, Woody Allen, Brian De Palma, Sam Peckinpah, Sidney Lumet, George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Robert Zemeckis (to name a few) provide a glimpse of the groundbreaking work on display in a time of fresh, emerging talents unprecedented in their numbers.

Born to Be Wild

Throughout the 1960s, Jack Nicholson worked tirelessly on stage, screen, and television across genres to little success. He then turned to screenwriting, which led to his working with Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper on the Roger Corman-directed psychedelic nightmare hippie movie The Trip (1967). His big break, however, was yet to come.

The 1969 counterculture milestone Easy Rider was at the forefront of New Hollywood independent filmmaking. Its financial success ($60 million on a $400,000 budget) stunned major studios and gave rise to the commercial possibilities of artist-driven works outside the studio system.

Among its lasting impact, Easy Rider also introduced wider audiences to a young, charismatic actor seen previously in several low-budget Corman films. Nicholson’s supporting role as a boozy lawyer accompanying motorcyclists Hopper and Fonda across the vast American landscape helped launch his seemingly unstoppable career. Easy Rider also garnered his first Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor.

Nicholson remained prolific throughout the ’80s and ’90s. Audiences marveled at his iconic performance as The Joker in Tim Burton’s Batman (1989), which saw a career resurgence among a new generation of moviegoers. It was a role he was born to play and one that would cement his status as one of our greatest living actors. This is further evidenced by an exceptional career of unforgettable films from the New Hollywood age to his retirement in 2010.

The 1970s

Five Easy Pieces (1970) set the stage for Nicholson’s career choices, embodying the type of challenging films he would embrace throughout his distinguished career. This quiet character study further established Nicholson in his first major leading role. In the film, he plays aimless drifter and blue-collar oil rig worker Bobby Dupeae who returns home to visit his dying father with his ditzy girlfriend (Karen Black) in tow. His character remains an enigma of hidden complexities and failures behind a façade of arrogance.

Already a bankable star, Nicholson elevated the subversive comedy-drama The Last Detail (1973) to new heights as an as an angry, insubordinate Navy sailor assigned to escort a young Seaman (Randy Quaid) to prison for theft. The film reflected the growing cynicism of the time against the U.S. Government and its military. It was written by Robert Towne who would later present Nicholson with a screenplay for a post-modern film noir classic the actor could not pass up.

In 1974, the Roman Polanski-directed Chinatown captivated audiences with its bleak atmosphere and multi-layered Oscar-winning screenplay. As private investigator Jake Gittes, Nicholson drew additional praise in this engrossing tale of political corruption in 1930s Los Angeles. Gittes is hired by a mysterious woman (Faye Dunaway) to investigate the death of her husband, a safety engineer at the Department of Water and Power. The case pulls him into a dangerous world of conspiracy and murder, where nefarious forces battle for control of L.A. public utilities.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) remains a landmark film that became Nicholson’s greatest achievement to date. The Ken Kesey novel on which it was based had already been adapted to the stage years before and went through years of development until everything fell into place. Nicholson was recommended through Hal Ashby who directed him in The Last Detail. In the film, Nicholson portrayed headstrong lowlife Randle McMurphy—a role that encapsulated his wildest qualities.

In prison for statutory rape, McMurphy feigns insanity for a transfer to an Oregon mental institution, where he assumes time will be easier. He unwittingly enters the crosshairs of the tyrannical Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher) who is appalled by his rebellious nature and nonconformity. Their tense battle comprised a sprawling examination of the human condition; tragic, moving, and profound. It would win all five major Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director (Miloš Forman), Best Actor (Nicholson), Best Actress (Fletcher), and Best Screenplay.

The 1980s

Stanley Kubrick’s epic adaptation of the Stephen King best-seller The Shining (1980) easily ranks as one of the greatest horror films ever made. For Kubrick, Nicholson was his first and only choice for the lead role of Jack Torrance, schoolteacher, writer, and recovering alcoholic.

The well-known setup involves a winter caretaker position at the remote Overlook Hotel in the Rocky Mountains and its long-buried history of violence. We witness the destruction of the modern American family with wife Wendy (Shelly Duvall) and son Danny (Danny Lloyd) at the hands of the very monster who is supposed to protect them.

Nicholson’s hasty descent into madness reflects his isolated surroundings and personal demons. The hidden evilness within the Overlook Hotel is further amplified by the film’s grand cinematography and Nicholson’s gleefully insane performance. The Shining remains one of his most famous roles for good reason, he’s captivating from start to finish.

Terms of Endearment (1983) was the first of four collaborations with director James L. Brooks, which gained Nicholson his second Oscar for Best Supporting Actor as sleazy bachelor and retired astronaut Garrett Breedlove. While the story mainly focuses on the mother/daughter relationship between Shirley MacLaine and Debra Winger, Nicholson shines as an unexpected grifter who brings romance and excitement into lonely wdow MacLaine’s life…for a moment.

By the time George Miller’s adaptation of John Updike’s novel The Witches of Eastwick (1984) novel hit the big screen in 1987, Nicholson was at the height of his pre-Batman star power. His wild performance as Daryl Van Horne, mysterious newcomer to an idyllic Rhode Island town, is equal only to the talent of his formidable cast, including Cher, Susan Sarandon, and Michelle Pfeiffer who portray the “witches” whose plan to conjure up the ideal man backfires.

The summer of ’89 was an event for the ages. Warner Brothers released a gothic big-budget re-imagining of the famed Caped crusader, heavily influenced by the Frank Miller and Alan Moore comics of the 1980s. Batman (1989) was a massive hit that elevated the careers of director Tim Burton, composer Danny Elfman, and all involved.

It also revamped the entire comic book genre in ways that continues today. As the psychotic Joker, Nicholson gleefully embraced the role he seemed destined to play, leading to a new generation of fans with Batman movie posters in their rooms. He would also team up with Burton again, playing two comedic roles in the madcap big budget b-movie satire Mars Attacks! (1996).

The 1990s

A long-overdue sequel to Chinatown titled The Two Jakes was directed by Nicholson in addition to starring in it in 1990, but thankfully was not a sign of things to come for the new decade as the uneven film flopped at the box office.

But A Few Good Men (1992) remains a spellbinding military courtroom drama courtesy of director Rob Reiner, writer Aaron Sorkin, and excellent cast at the top of their game. Nicholson’s mesmerizing performance as the domineering Colonel Jessup remains a masterclass of acting. Tom

Cruise plays a self-centered Navy JAG officer defending two Marines for the murder of one of their own. The case seems clear cut until Cruise’s superior (Demi Moore) insists otherwise, leading to their discovery of a conspiracy that goes straight to the top.

The bombastic Jessup easily stands out as the film’s main highlight. No one else could have so convincingly demonstrated the pettiness, arrogance, and indignation of a man believing his actions to be justified. Endlessly quoted, the thunderous courtroom finale between Cruise and Nicholson ranks among the most gripping courtroom scenes in recent memory, and for good reason.

In As Goods as It Gets (1997), Nicholson won his third Best Actor Academy Award for his role as a misanthropic romance novelist who lives a solitary life in the big city. The hugely successful romantic comedy-drama was his third collaboration with writer/director James L. Brooks. Melvin Udall suffers from a dozen unspecified disorders, unable to connect with a single person around him.

His obsessive-compulsive behavior, bigoted comments, and general unpleasantness repels all who cross his path. He soon finds unlikely solace and eventual redemption in a waitress named Carol (Helen Hunt), the only person who can stand him. Nicholson’s performance makes Udall both engaging, relatable, and human. Helen Hunt holds her own and won Best Actress for her role opposite Nicholson in this truly engaging and entertaining modern classic.

The 2000s

In About Schmidt (2002), retired insurance actuary Warren Schmidt had high hopes for his future. From youth, he felt destined for greatness and dreamed of starting a Fortune 500 company. Reality, however, is not what he imagined. His crisis worsens when adjusting to retirement life and the lingering fears that come with it. So begins the heartwarming, tragic, and often hilarious odyssey of one man’s search for meaning in his twilight years.

About Schmidt was a critical and financial success, nominated for several Academy Awards, including Best Actor. In accepting the Best Actor Golden Globe for a Motion Picture Drama, Nicholson said, “I don’t know whether to be happy or ashamed, because I thought we made comedy.” In some ways it was and so much more.

The Departed (2007) remains Nicholson’s only collaboration with director Martin Scorsese and one of the finest crime films of its kind. His over-the-top performance as the real-life South Boston mob boss Frank Costello resonates because he appears to be having so much fun with it. Leonardo DiCaprio and Matt Damon star as opposite police officers of the same coin. Damon has been groomed by Costello as an insider while DiCaprio has been groomed by a Special Investigations Unit to infiltrate Costello’s gang.

Deceit, murder, and vigilante justice round out this relentless, epic crime thriller. Famous for the visceral landmark mobster films Goodfellas (1990) and Casino (1995), Scorsese and editor Thelma Schoonmaker both won well-deserved Oscars for Best Picture, Director, and Film Editing. Nicholson’s Costello is a depraved lunatic who terrorizes his community and leaves misery in his wake. No one else could have made him such a blast to watch.

A Hard Swan Song to Swallow

Jack Nicholson’s lifetime of work has immortalized him as one of the greatest actors of all time. Since retirement, his fearless screen presence is sorely missed. There is no doubt, however, that he gave the best he could in nearly every role he took on. His significant contribution to films that challenged, moved, and entertained generations of audiences lives on.

This year, he celebrates his 87th birthday. He hasn’t been seen out in public or courtside at a Lakers game in some time. His children have stated that Nicholson prefers to remain close to home with family. In response, generations of grateful movie lovers send their best wishes to this titan of cinema.

During his AFI Lifetime Achievement Award acceptance speech in 1994, an emotional Nicholson said, “I love this work. It’s dangerous, you give your life to it. The truth is, I’m proud of all my collaborations. The work that this is about has set my life free.” He closed by saying, “All these things about age or time and everything is… you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

And he was right.

Album Review: The Last Dinner Party – Prelude to Ecstasy (Island Records)

By: Shawn McKee

My introduction to indie rock band The Last Dinner Party was simple; they caught my attention after being featured in my weekly Spotify playlist. I’d been introduced similarly to plenty of new music before, but this band stood out.

Their song “Nothing Matters” instantly clicked. Its energetic and mesmerizing sound signaled the arrival of something special. Their accompanying music video had a stylish, cinematic quality that matched the ferocity of the song. The band, it seemed, were true artists. But who were they, and where did they come from? The answer; they were a UK band with two singles and a debut album on the way. That album, Prelude to Ecstasy, (released earlier this month) proved to be worth the wait.

The Last Dinner Party is made up of vocalist Abigail Morris, lead guitarist and multi-instrumentalist Emily Roberts, guitarist Lizzie Mayland, bassist Georgia Davies, keyboardist Aurora Nishevci, and drummer Rebekah Rayner (during live performances). All members contribute vocals and collaborate on songwriting. Their talent and chemistry seem effortless, but success didn’t happen overnight. They officially formed in 2021 and spent much time, as explained by vocalist Morris in an interview, honing their sound with years of live performances and touring to build word-of-mouth. Such combined efforts seemingly paid off in a growing fanbase that catapulted their recent debut to number one on the UK charts. Nonetheless, their innate ability to craft haunting, emotive, and uplifting songs remains an anomaly within the modern musical landscape.

Their baroque-inspired look and theatrical persona display gothic sensibilities amid Victorian-era fashion. Their style evokes the classic works of William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, William Makepeace Thackeray, Edgar Allan Poe, and others. Their songs project themes of heartbreak, desire, betrayal, self-reflection, and loss of innocence. They’ve drawn comparisons to Siouxsie and the Banshees, Kate Bush, Warpaint, and even ABBA, with clear influences of David Bowie.

Prelude to Ecstasy delivers a fresh, cohesive sound for those attuned to its broader ambitions. It stands as a striking work of originality from a group of exceptionally talented musicians. Surprisingly, there is little filler material. The album is meticulously arranged to showcase a dizzying array of songs each uniquely different than the last. The strength of “Nothing Matters” and the singles to follow were no fluke. Prelude is a dedication to form.

They open with a brief orchestral overture followed by the opening track “Burn Alive,” immediately setting the mood. As if written by candlelight, its brooding melody and simple guitar intro shift to an up-tempo synthesized blend of stark vocals and bombastic sound. Upon hearing this track for the first time, I was confident the rest of the album was going to be good.

The next song, “Caesar on a TV Screen” carries the momentum with a near-perfect blend of varying sections. The song shifts from melancholy to upbeat rock and back, reaching a heightened crescendo. The music video features the costumed group performing Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar in three acts. “As a child,” Morris sings, “I never felt like a child. I felt like an empire with a city to burn.”

“The Feminine Urge” blisters as a real standout. Not a moment is wasted throughout the song’s multilayered harmonies, thumping bass line, and exquisite chorus. It also displays some of Morris’s impressive range and equally artful lyrics. “I am a dark red liver stretched out on the rocks; all the poison, I convert it and I turn it to love; Here comes that feminine urge, I know it so well, to nurture the wounds my mother held.”

“On Your Side,” comes across as a sincere love song of quiet devotion. It seemingly represents the band at its most vulnerable and boasts some great piano arrangements and harmonization. “Beautiful Boy” is a quiet but rewarding song that takes some warming up to. The closest thing to a filler material would be the seventh track, “Gjuha,” which acts as a brief lead-in to the band’s second single, “Sinner,” an all-out rock song.

Its brief three-minute runtime is proof enough of how heavy the band can be when they want to. Their thundering bass lines, echoing guitars, and precise drumming deliver an irresistible groove. “My Lady of Mercy” is another great track fully assembled to strike at the core. Its flawless shifts from climbing verse bars to blasting guitars in the chorus are a high point.

“Nothing Matters” follows as undoubtedly their most popular song and current anthem. Subtle F-bombs aside, it’s a meticulously crafted musical number with an infectious and elating four-bar beat. The album’s last track, “Mirror,” marches on as a confessional reflection of things that cannot be changed.

Reportedly, most songs on the album were derived from diary notes of band members and used to further shape overall themes. Their approach delivers a strong debut and testament to the universal power of music. I can’t wait to hear more.

Rating: 4.5/5 Stars

Spooky Empire’s 20th Anniversary at the Hyatt Regency in Orlando, FL 10/27-10/29/23 Words and Photos By Shawn McKee

Spooky Empire recently celebrated its 20th year of delivering horror fandom to the masses with a monstrous weekend extravaganza that stared on Friday, October 27, and concluded on Sunday, October 29, 2023.

The renowned convention dominated the Hyatt Regency Orlando with a star-studded guest list of horror icons. And for the first time, Jason Vorhees (Kane Hodder), Freddy Krueger (Robert England), and Pinhead (Doug Bradley) were in the same room together! I don’t know if that’s true, but it sounds cool.

The long-running convention bills itself as the “Dark Side of Comic Con.” It was my first time ever attending, and the event didn’t disappoint. The 3-day weekend featured an extensive list of panels with actors, creators, and industry insiders, a horror film festival, an onslaught of vendors, a massive tattoo festival, special effects exhibitions, and costumes galore from staff and attendees. Of course, the event’s biggest draw was the sheer amount of horror icons in attendance.

The convention boasted a roster of over sixty guests from various decades of horror films and television. Their top draws were Kiefer Sutherland, Robert Englund, and Cassandra Peterson of Elvira, Mistress of the Dark fame. Having recently read her memoir, I was excited to meet the queen of haunts, but the list didn’t stop there.

In addition to the aforementioned greats, they had Jason Patric, Lou Diamond Phillips, special effects legends Greg Nicotero and the Chiodo Brothers, A Nightmare on Elm Street’s Heather Langenkamp, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2‘s Bill Moseley and Bill Johnson, An American Werewolf in London‘s David Naughton, Alex Vincent from Child’s Play, the voice of the Crypt Keeper himself, John Kassir, Nick Frost, Danielle Harris, Rose McGowan, Freddy Rodriguez, and many more.

The catch was that you’d have to be a millionaire to get all their autographs (more on that later). Admittedly, I wasn’t all that prepared for the big event. I didn’t attend Friday and opted for the weekend. The entire three days, I soon learned, were a necessity to make headway.

I arrived close to noon on Saturday and contended with a large crowd. The staff, however, kept the lines orderly and moving. Once inside the Hyatt resort and through the festival entrance, I witnessed a barrage of sights and sounds. Massive monster inflatables, an empty stage adorned with banners and blasting music, and a gaggle of lines were my introduction.

Countless eye-catching costumes were on display, some more impressive than others (the less said about the guy wearing the foam Lego brick the better). Jason, Michael Myers, and Leatherface were everywhere, and it was interesting to see all their different variations. There were a lot of Elviras there as well.

Perhaps most interesting were the couples costumes. I saw Beetlejuice and Lydia, Edward Scissorhands and Kim (both of which the female characters were portrayed by Winona Ryder), Candyman and Helen, and even a spot-on Hellraiser duo with Pinhead and female Cenobite.

Gore galore was displayed in many costumes. I felt under-dressed in my regular, boring non-costume attire. But I didn’t have time to sit around admiring costumes all day. I had a noon panel to attend with John Kassir, the Crypt Keeper.

They had no shortage of exciting panels on the schedule, but no matter how well I tried to plan, most of my time was spent waiting in lines for celebrity autographs. Out of the six panels I planned for that weekend, I only made it to two.

The John Kassir panel featured an insightful Q&A, where he detailed his early career and breaking into the business as a comedian “with no act” but lots of impressions. Growing up with HBO’s Tales from the Crypt, I felt my childhood come to life. And when it came time for audience questions, I wasted no time getting in line.

Panel on 10/28/23 featuring John Kassir of Tales From the Crypt fame.

I asked Mr. Kassir about the evolution of the Crypt Keeper from a restrained, quiet ghoul in the first season to the wisecracking, pun-making maniac in the later seasons. Kassir explained that advancements in the animatronic puppet over the years allowed for a more animated and expressive host. He also stated that showrunners wanted to explore what else the Crypt Keeper might do outside of living in a Crypt, hence the gleefully cartoonish persona he evolved into. To talk to an actor from a cherished show was worth the price of admission alone. But my day was only getting started.

I ventured into the vast autograph room, fully adorned with tables, banners, and celebrities. Some friends of mine were there who knew the general layout and had already done a bunch of stuff on Friday. The lines for Robert Englund, Cassandra Peterson, and Kiefer Sutherland wrapped outside the doors and were up to two hours long.

As I tried to take in the flurry of celebrity tables encircling me, I saw Greg Nicotero of The Waking Dead fame seated nearby. He was on my list. I asked him to sign my Blu-ray copy of Creepshow 2, a film he did special effects for before the establishment of KNB EFX Group. I thanked him forkeeping the Creepshow legacy alive with the current Shudder series, which I genuinely enjoy.

Author Shawn McKee (right) with Special F/X wiz Greg Nicotero.

Next up was a panel featuring cast members of 1987’s The Lost Boys. Kiefer Sutherland, Jason Patric, and Billy Wirth addressed the packed room, recounting insightful behind-the-scenes stories, including paying tribute to their late great director, Joel Schumacher.

The Lost Boys panel on 10/28/23 featuring (from left to right), host Riki Rachtman, Jason Patric, Kiefer Sutherland, and Billy Wirth.

I scheduled a photo op on a whim with Rose McGowan, Freddy Rodriguez, and Marley Shelton from Planet Terror, the first half of the Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino magnum opus Grindhouse (2007). The photo cost me about what I had left to spend that day, so I proceeded to tour the vendor room for the remainder of the time with my delicious Nightmare on Elm Street rum and ginger beer mix in hand.

By Sunday, I arrived early with hopes of meeting Elvira and Kiefer Sutherland. Most of everyone else, however, had the same plan. Neither celebrity had arrived yet, which freed me up some time to see Doug Bradley, who just set up. I also had a busy panel list of separate Q&As with Kane Hodder, Rose McGowan, Robert Englund, and others. It all seemed doable…until it wasn’t.

Meeting someone of Doug Bradley’s stature was a bit unnerving. Even without the extensive Pinhead makeup, you could see the character in his startling, gray eyes. He was ever the English gentleman though, calm, and friendly.

I mentioned Anthony Hickox, director of the Waxwork films and Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth who recently passed away. Bradley seemed to recall him with fondness. I felt thrilled upon getting a signed 8×10 Pinhead glossy and a picture with the actor. That was what it was all about. All the lines, expense, and planning came down to those brief moments where it was just you and the star of the films you love.

My excitement soon turned to trepidation when I learned that Elvira and Kiefer Sutherland had arrived. Their lines were long, their autographs cost $100, and they weren’t taking selfies. Pictures were, in fact, another commodity to be paid for separately in the designated photo op room. I passed both out of principle and financial necessity.

Besides, I had already scheduled a photo op with Danielle Harris, Jamie Lloyd from Halloween 4 and 5. I also knew Harris from her role as Bruce Willis’s smartass kid in The Last Boy Scout (1991) and many movies or TV shows she popped up in back then. She was incredibly kind in person and equally reciprocal when I thanked her for being there.

McKee with actress Danielle Harris, best known for her involvement in the Halloween franchise, including Halloween 4 (1988), Halloween 5 (1989), and Rob Zombie’s Halloween (2007).

During The Lost Boys panel, Kiefer Sutherland made similar appreciative remarks toward the fans. “We’re only here because of you,” he said. “We owe all of our success to you and your interest in our work.” For such a big star, he showed the utmost humility. It was those moments that suggested it wasn’t just work for them. Some of them actually wanted to be there.

As the day ended, I had only the time and money to meet one more celebrity. Why not Kane Hodder? The actor and legendary stuntman who portrayed Jason Vorhees an unprecedented four times had me nervous in line. Would he crush my skull if I asked for a selfie?

He was candid, friendly, and funny despite being clearly exhausted by the end of the long weekend. When most others had packed up, Hodder remained even as his line grew. We all watched, starry-eyed and infatuated, as the supernatural serial killer from our youth sat only a few feet away. Our words exchanged with Hodder and the signed Jason picture said it all, we love these damn movies.

Author McKee with actor/stuntman Kane Hodder, best known for his portrayal of Jason Voorhees.

Spooky Empire and similar conventions have their fair share of headaches. At times, my impatience at long lines and disappointment of missing panels grew, along with anxiety toward my diminishing finances. Ultimately, the experience gave me a deeper appreciation for horror films and the talent behind them.

It is both a community and an art form for people to express themselves through. To truly enjoy these conventions is to immerse yourself in your surroundings. Next time, I’ll be more prepared.

Michael Winslow and His Band of Armed Forces at Camp Arifjan in Kuwait on 1/10/23 Words and Photos By Shawn McKee

Michael Winslow is best known for making a wide range of sound effects with his voice, a talent that led him to star in all seven Police Academy movies (and each of its two television series it spawned) from 1984 to 1994 as Sgt Larvell Jones, often delivering the biggest laughs. For better or worse, the series became a part of American culture during the ’80s heyday of National Lampoon, Mel Brooks, Porky’s, and the subsequent ‘slob’ genre. These comedies were simple, juvenile, and crude. But most importantly, they were fun.

This formula, derided by critics, was a big hit with audiences. The inevitable saturation of the genre made it hard to know where and when lightning would strike. Police Academy struck big and became a low-brow comedy success story. Growing up, I enjoyed the series’ stooge-like, raunchy antics. Winslow had an undeniable comic presence. And his brief part as a nameless radar operator in Spaceballs (1987) is one of the film’s many highlights, where he did all the sound effects himself.

And to be referenced in an episode of The Simpsons some years later is no small feat either. The seventh season Christmas-themed episode “Marge Be Not Proud” (1995) saw Bart struggling to regain Marge’s trust after he stole a video game, which led to one of Homer’s best rants; Homer: “STEALING! How could you? We live in a society of laws. Why do you think I took in all those Police Academy movies? FOR FUN? Well, I didn’t hear anybody laughing. DID YOU? Except at that guy who made sound effects [makes noises and starts giggling]. Where was I? Oh yeah, stay outta my booze!”

Winslow has performed live shows for decades. He’s also an accomplished beatboxer. I witnessed this firsthand at Camp Arifjan, Kuwait, where Winslow delivered a two-hour set of comedy and music to troops abroad. In doing so, he made us all feel at home. I recently arrived in Kuwait as part of a nine-month Army deployment. Arifjan is a big base with lots of military personnel. Armed Forces Entertainment is a morale-based organization that sponsors and coordinates entertainment for service members.

I saw posters of Winslow’s upcoming performance and knew I had to go. Billed as ‘Michael Winslow and His Band of Armed Forces,’ the show was one of eight appearances at deployed locations throughout January. From what I saw, Winslow did not disappoint.

Josh Firestone, stand-up comic and former Army Ranger, had the thankless job of warming up the stone-cold sober crowd on a Tuesday night. He delivered several funny bits about military/post-military life, parenting, and other humorous topics. The initially subdued audience made me wonder how many were even familiar with Michael Winslow. Seeing someone I had admired from childhood was exciting. Maybe like me, they didn’t know what to expect.

Winslow then took the stage to hearty applause. Microphone in hand, he stood behind a dizzying array of electronics. This included a laptop, mixing board, vocal effects pedal, and cables running everywhere. His natural speaking voice was instantly recognizable. Drummer Bryan Lash provided some extra kick to the one-man show. The rest of the band, Winslow explained, couldn’t afford the airfare. It might have been a joke or an excuse to provide all the sounds of the instruments himself.

He belted out multiple genres of music with comedy bits in between. A few awkward pauses followed some technical difficulties, but Winslow effortlessly pushed on with energy, talent, and passion. Plus, the man can sing. Winslow joked about an ongoing bingo event next door by imitating the jittering ball sounds and the announcers blaring voice over the microphone. He then gave us all the sounds you’d expect from a supermarket check-out line. His Eddie Murphy and Chris Tucker impressions, among others, were spot on. There seemed no sound or voice he couldn’t imitate. Most of the show, however, was dedicated to music.

Utilizing vocal loops and effects, Winslow provided the tempo, bass line, guitar, and synthesizers for several familiar songs. He belted out Bob Marley, James Brown, Led Zeppelin, Michael Jackson, Prince, the Beverly Hills Cop theme, George Thorogood’s “Bad to the Bone,” country, bluegrass, jazz, and some freestyle jams. His energetic, multilayered performance was a sight to see.

“This is what I do,” Winslow repeatedly said. “I make noises.”

He encouraged us to make our own around the base. “But remember, if you get in trouble, my name is Kevin Hart.” Winslow must have been exhausted by the show’s end, but it didn’t show. He stuck around to get pictures with every service member who wanted one. I thanked him for coming, and he told me, “Remember, you can make noises too.”It was a bit of inspiration from the self-proclaimed “man of ten-thousand sound effects.” Strangely enough, I heard he lives in Winter Springs, Florida like me. If true, that makes us neighbors on the other side of the world.

I’m always grateful when performers/celebrities come out to see us. I’ll never forget meeting Robin Williams during my 2004 Afghanistan deployment. Like Williams, Winslow was gracious and kind. I hope he enjoyed performing for us as much as we enjoyed having him.

The author (left) with legendary comedian Michael Winslow on 1/10/23.

Roger Waters at Amway Center in Orlando, FL on 8/25/22 By Shawn McKee

Roger Waters finally graced Orlando as part of his This Is Not a Drill North American tour. The three-hour, visually stunning spectacle covered his legendary career as co-founder, bassist, co-lead vocalist, and principal songwriter for Pink Floyd and the solo work that followed his departure from the band in the early ‘80s.

The tour, originally set for July of 2020, was postponed due to the COVID-19 pandemic. It’s clear, however, that after experiencing Waters “in the flesh” at the Amway Center, it was well worth the wait. As a Pink Floyd fan from youth, who still considers them my all-time favorite band, I’m also a fan of Waters’s solo work. I even love Radio K.A.OS., the 1987 album later disparaged by Waters himself. Understandably, he was going through a difficult time back then.

The tensions between Waters and his former bandmates ultimately erupted after the resounding success of their 1979 rock opera masterpiece, The Wall. As a cohesive band, they produced one last album, The Final Cut (1983) before Waters’s bitter exit and lengthy court battles that followed. Egos clashed as he tried to single-handedly lay claim to the Pink Floyd name and material. It was a fight he eventually lost.

Guitarist/vocalist David Gilmour, keyboardist Richard Wright, and drummer Nick Mason retained the name, and Waters ventured into solo territory, competing against the very band he launched to stardom with The Dark Side of the Moon in 1973. Thus ended the Waters era of Pink Floyd.

Gilmour assumed front man duties, with the release of A Momentary Lapse of Reason in 1987 and a world tour that completely “eclipsed” Waters’s own earnest solo endeavors. The times, however, have somewhat changed. Following the passing of Richard Wright in 2008, all hopes of another Pink Floyd album after The Division Bell (1994) diminished. Gilmour rightfully stated that, “It would be wrong to continue as Pink Floyd without him.”

In their absence, Waters has since ironically done his part in bringing Floyd’s music to the fans throughout the past twenty years. This Is Not a Drill follows his Us + Them tour (2107-2018) that followed The Wall Live (2010-2013). I was fortunate enough to see him perform The Wall in Tampa, Florida in 2010. Experiencing the album in its theatric entirety still ranks as one of the best concerts I’ve ever seen.

The thrill of seeing Waters again (for possibly the last time) was every bit as exciting as attending the Paul McCartney concert months prior in Orlando. In both cases, we’re increasingly aware of their inevitable retirements on the horizon. The vitality of rock and roll defies expectations, when two men close to (or in) their eighties can embark on such sweeping tours.

I’ve heard enough live Waters albums to know how he performs the Floyd material without the soulful voice and guitar playing of Glimour and the equally strong backing of Wright and Mason. Waters without Floyd is the same as Floyd without Waters. They’ve both become their own thing equal to the sum of their parts. With This Is Not a Drill, I can confidently say that Waters delivered in every way.

From the center of the stadium, massive LED screens hung above the cross shaped stage that extended in all four directions. The show started promptly at 8:30 pm in darkness as text scrolled across each lit screen accompanied by a British announcer, instructing patrons to turn off their cell phones and “fuck off to the bar,” if they like Pink Floyd’s music but don’t care for Waters’s politics. From the start, I expected a politically charged show evident in Waters’ own poignant songwriting for decades past. He’s an artist of conviction, consistently political throughout most of his career. Alas, I was there for the music, while also aware how seriously Waters takes “the message.”

The show started with a slow, moody version of “Comfortably Numb,” accompanied by dystopian visuals on the screens. Waters and his sizeable touring band remained unseen during its lengthy duration. An abundance of flashy, colorful lights followed as Waters ripped into the precursor song, “The Happiest Days of Our Lives,” accompanied by its famous helicopter droning and exhilarating crescendo of “Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2.” Waters then hammered through “Another Brick in the Wall, Part 3” as the audience erupted in jubilation.

Things shifted down a notch with “The Powers That Be” from Radio K.A.O.S and “The Bravery of Being Out of Range” from Amused to Death (1992). I was ecstatic to hear two songs from his solo albums, but the energy didn’t seem as infectious upon the crowd. Nonetheless, “The Powers That Be,” featured fantastic visuals of fascistic animated foot soldiers marching through town, while “Being Out of Range” gave us the first moments of Waters “stripped down” on the screen in black and white, strumming his acoustic guitar and singing.

To capture an “intimate moment” in a stadium show is quite the feat. But Waters pulled off just that with what appeared to be completely new material for an endearing, personable segue entitled “The Bar.” Waters, seated at a grand piano, played and sang beautifully, while calling for unity of all peoples from all cultures and stripes.

It was a touching moment from an otherwise intentionally divisive artist. His band belted out another Floyd rock anthem and radio mainstay “Have a Cigar” from the iconic Wish You Were Here 1975 album. This was then followed by none other than “Wish You Were Here,” which predictably brought the place down.

Around this point, I felt most excited, because I had no idea what would follow. Anything could happen. Scrolling text and narration then discussed the early days of Floyd and its founder Syd Barrett, whose mental illness and drug use during the ’60s propelled a swift exit from the band after their first album, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn (1967). Barrett led a private, solitary life that became the stuff of folklore among Floyd fans before he passed away in 2006. Many Pink Floyd albums have been dedicated to or written about Barrett, and to continue to honor his legacy in such a way was particularly touching. Waters continued music from Wish You Were Here with the second half of Shine on You Crazy Diamond (Parts VI-IX), capturing the raw power and energy of the song from beginning to end.

A giant, remote-controlled inflatable sheep then floated around the stadium to introduce a powerhouse rendition of “Sheep” from the 1977 album Animals, a personal highlight for me. A brief intermission followed, bridging the gap between the two sets, and the best was yet to come.

After intermission, the stage was draped with x-shaped hammers from above, signifying a return to The Wall. We were treated to the closing anthems, “In the Flesh” and “Run Like Hell,” featuring Waters in full, black leather fascist gear, mimicking moments where he gunned down the audience with a fake, illuminated machine gun.

Giant inflatable pigs, flashing lights, and the barrage of vivid imagery against a red visage became a delightful assault on the senses. Two songs followed from Waters’s majestic Is This the Life We Really Want? (2017). The Nigel Godrich-produced album is, in my opinion, his best solo work, and it virtually came out of nowhere, which made it uniquely special hearing live.

Waters then delved into his greatest commercial triumph with a series of songs from The Dark Side on The Moon. “Money,” “Us and Them,” “Any Colour You Like,” “Brain Damage,” and “Eclipse” thundered through the stadium in consecutive order with captivating visuals and light show motifs. A string of laser triangles filled the center stage with a stunning backdrop of faces, sunsets, and fire.

An encore followed with the apocalyptic “Two Suns in the Sunset” from The Final Cut, more material from “The Bar,” and the appropriate closer “Outside the Wall,” before sending us home, wanting more. Waters’s fantastic visuals, touching tribute to his former band, and love for performing was on full display. As the tour title suggests, his concert presented an alarming view of current times, while keeping the music alive.

I looked past the ego, sanctimony, and destructiveness of an artist who once tried to end Pink Floyd after “deciding” they had reached their peak and witnessed the sheer talent and passion of an artist who believes in the power of it all. Being active is perhaps the greatest gift Waters can offer. I hope he was as thrilled to host Orlando as we were to have him.

Retrospective: Poltergeist: 40 Years of Suburban Terror By Shawn McKee

Few things can tap into our inner fears like ghost stories. Gothic ambience, supernatural mystery, and fears of the unknown often drive the fascination with the haunted house sub-genre popularized in books and films throughout the ages.

Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House remains a literary landmark of psychological horror finely adapted into The Haunting in 1963 and later a Netflix series directed by Mike Flanagan. The classic film House on Haunted Hill (1959) starred Vincent Price as an eccentric millionaire, offering unsuspecting guests $10,000 to spend the night in his haunted mansion.

George C. Scott left his mark on the genre, starring in the 1980 thriller The Changeling. Stanley Kubrick adapted Stephen King’s The Shining into one of the most influential horror films of all time with his epic take on the modern ghost story. We’ve witnessed the mediocre fare of The Amityville Horror series, the found footage phenomenon of Paranormal Activity, Japanese imports like The Grudge, and a slew of others from the likes of Blumhouse and A24.

There are too many to mention, but one thing is clear, horror sometimes works best when it’s consigned to the familiar surroundings of home. No other film in recent memory captures this localized premise quite like the 1982 horror hit Poltergeist, where one family faces malevolent spirits from beyond.

The film’s opening credits impose over a closeup of an American flag on television with The Star-Spangled Banner playing, followed by white noise. The Freeling family sleeps soundly as their youngest daughter Carol Anne awakens and approaches a flashing television. She then engages in conversation with an unknown entity. After placing her hands on the screen, an apparition bursts from the TV and flows into the wall above her parents’ bed. The room rumbles, shaking the parents awake. They find their daughter unfazed and welcoming their new visitors with the now iconic line, “They’re herrre.”

Five-year-old Heather O’Rourke made movie history with that line. She was perfect for the role as was the entire cast. Since its release, Poltergeist has become a mainstay of our culture. It remains a timeless work, boasting impressive special effects courtesy of Industrial Light and Magic (ILM) and Robert Edlund of Star Wars and Ghostbusters fame.

The movie embodies a uniquely idyllic time and place, centering on an average American family facing an unreal situation. Their plight intensifies after Carol Anne is sucked into parallel dimension, with little hope of getting her back. This frightful spectacle of suspense, drama, and horror was achieved through the combined forces of movie master Steven Spielberg and horror legend Tobe Hooper. Rarely would we ever experience such a film from two artistically opposite spectrums. Their differing sensibilities created a perfect balance of heart and horror amid a movie embroiled in controversy over creative control and the tragic fates that would later follow some key actors involved.

Poltergeist concerns the Freeling family who reside in a quaint California subdivision complex. The father, Steve (Craig T. Nelson), is a realtor who sells homes among the very complex he lives in. His wife Diane (JoBeth Williams) spends her time raising Carol Anne, eight-year-old Robbie (Oliver Robins), and teenage Dana (Dominique Dunne). Their seemingly normal existence is upended upon the presence of an unexplained paranormal phenomenon. TV channels change on their own, glasses spontaneously break, chairs move, and the family dog seems fixated on the wall above the parents’ bed. These strange and subtle occurrences are only the beginning of an increasingly sinister threat determined to wreak havoc on all who occupy the home.

After Carole Anne’s inexplicable disappearance, her parents enlist the aid of an investigative parapsychologist team to provide answers and help recover their daughter. The sympathetic team soon determine that the house is besieged by the presence of a “poltergeist” that must be studied and recorded with video cameras and audio equipment. The stakes are raised, and the true nature of what they’re up against becomes more apparent (and frightening) as the story proceeds. Rescuing Carol Anne is the catalyst for a desperate family pushed to the brink. After bouts of sleepless nights, the father discovers matter-of-factly from his boss (James Karen) that their entire housing development was built on a former cemetery, where they moved the headstones but not the bodies underground.

Poltergeist is the kind of movie dominated by everlasting set pieces. I don’t find the movie “scary” in a traditional sense today, but there were moments as a child, where I was too frightened to watch. The giant oak tree crashing its branches through the children’s second-story bedroom window, the clown doll coming alive, skeletons spilling out of coffins, and the house imploding into another dimension are just a few memorable moments of macabre. And who can forget the hapless researcher tearing his face off in a bout of hallucinatory fervor?

It’s a gripping story, where everything on screen works, including Zelda Rubinstein’s turn as the predominant medium who attempts to “clean” the house once all hell breaks loose. All is not what it seems, and just when we think it’s over, the movie pulls us back in, accompanied by Jerry Goldsmith’s heart-pounding score.

As viewers, we’re invested in the family’s plight because they’re down to earth and relatable. Such traits have always been Spielberg’s strong suit with characters. The movie feels very much like a Spielberg film, which fueled endless debate over who actually directed it. As writer and producer, Spielberg was contractually obligated to E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) at the time and unable to direct. He hired Tobe Hooper based on the strength of Hooper’s landmark horror classic The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) and his first studio film, The Fun House (1981). Hooper, in turn, wanted to emphasize the horror aspects over what was originally a science fiction story, with wondrous results.

During production, A Los Angeles Times article insinuated that Spielberg was the real director of the film based off comments Spielberg made about “taking charge.” This, coupled with marketing Poltergeist as a Spielberg film, further casted doubt on Hooper’s role, but the record has since been made repeatedly clear…mostly. Anyone who knows and admires Hooper’s work (as I do) can clearly see his directorial touches. It is undoubtedly a Tobe Hooper film. Despite it being his most commercially successful work, he never quite recovered from the implications following the film’s release, which has since become Hollywood lore.

Further infamy arose around the murder of actress Dominique Dunne by her ex-boyfriend shortly after the film’s release. Heather O’Rourke then succumbed to a rare form of intestinal septic shock after filming Poltergeist III in 1988. There has been countless speculation of a Poltergeist “curse” due to the use of real skeletons in the film’s climax and its overall exploration of the supernatural. Such notions are common but no less disrespectful to the talents lost and their families.

An entire piece could be written about the television symbolism portrayed throughout Poltergeist, for starters. The film’s endearing relevancy comes down to its realism, intelligence, and innovative take on the supernatural. Such rarity is further distinguished by its status as one of the most notable PG-rated horror films out there. Spielberg and Hooper successfully appealed the MPAA’s initial R rating. It’s a movie that left a huge impact on my childhood that can still be enjoyed and embraced by fans and newcomers alike. Just leave the light on after watching. You can never be too sure.

Paul McCartney at Camping World Stadium in Orlando, FL on 5/28/22 By Jesse Striewski/Photos By Brooke Striewski

I’ve witnessed greatness on stage many times in the nearly three decades since I first started going to concerts. I’ve seen many early rock and heavy metal bands from “back in the day,” including pioneering acts such as Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Blue Oyster Cult, Aerosmith, and even The Rolling Stones. But never before have I managed to catch one of The Beatles, the ones who started it all, and undeniably my earliest memory of rock music going back to when my parents had first introduced me to them so many years ago.

But that finally happened this past Saturday, May 28, when legendary former Beatle himself Paul McCartney took the stage at Camping World Stadium in Orlando, FL. I was there to witness this much anticipated event with my wife, son, mother-in-law, and extended family and friends of the Rewind It Magazine family. I don’t think a single one of us could issue a word of complaint if we tried.

Opening with the classic Beatles track “Can’t Buy Me Love,” I was instantly transported back to childhood memories of seeing old black and white footage of the fab four bobbing around on stage together. For the next two and a half hours, I found myself so transfixed on that stage, possibly the most lost in music I’ve ever been in my lifetime prior.

The next few songs, “Junior’s Farm,” “Letting Go,” “Got to Get You Into My Life,” and “Come On To Me” all served as decent enough warm ups that were paving the way to better things, the blues-ly Wings staple “Let Me Roll It” and the Sgt. Peppers-era “Getting Better” being a couple of said things. “Let ‘Em In” followed before McCartney dedicated “My Valentine” to his wife (who was in attendance for the show) and oddly enough featured actors Johnny Depp and Natalie Portman “signing” the lyrics on the video screens.

“Nineteen Hundred Eighty-Five” was up next with some retro lazer light work, while more classics like “Maybe I’m Amazed” and The Beatles’ “I’ve Just Seen a Face” followed. Paul then dug deep with a track from his pre-Beatles Quarrymen days, “In Spite of All the Danger,” as well as “Love Me Do,” each featuring a little history of their original recordings from McCartney.

The semi-newer track “Dance Tonight” was next before McCartney took the stage solo with an acoustic guitar to perform “Blackbird,” another chill-inducing moment. “Here Today” was next up, before McCartney joked about the lack of interest usually reserved for newer music, before appropriately going into a newer track in the form of “New,” featuring the refrain “We can do what we want.”

Another Beatles number, “Lady Madonna,” proceeded before the interesting “Fuh You,” and although the Sgt. Pepper track “Being For the Benefit of Mr. Kite” attempted to bring the psychedelic vibe with it, it was definitely one of the weaker moments of the night. A little backstory on late Beatle George Harrison preceded a ukulele-driven version of “Something” before picking things up again with the goofy but harmless “Obla Di, Obla Da.”

From then on it was nothing but the best, including some Abbey Road (my favorite Beatles album) era classics like “You Never Give Me Your Money” (which McCartney explained he and his current band had never performed live before) and “She Came In Through the Bathroom Window,” before launching into “Get Back.”

Another Wings track, “Band on the Run,” followed before McCartney took the piano again to serenade the crowd with “Let it Be,” blow everyone away (literally with various pyros and explosions) with the James Bond theme “Live and Let Die,” and invoke the entire stadium to sing along with “Hey Jude,” the unforgettable, massive Beatles anthem from 1968, and close out the first set.

It didn’t take long for McCartney and company to take the stage again for an encore, beginning with “I’ve Got a Feeling,” which he explained Get Back director Peter Jackson had isolated John Lennon’s vocals for specifically for the tour, and fans were therefore given a rare treat. “Birthday” and “Helter Skelter” got the crowd on their feet again, while the epic climax of “Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End” (hands down one of my favorite Beatles medlies) was finally enough to choke up an old dog like myself, as I became overwhelmed with emotion, knowing just what greatness I had just experienced.

As if this wasn’t all enough in itself, a chance encounter on the way out of the stadium found us actually crossing paths with Alter Bridge and Creed guitarist Mark Tremonti (see photo below), who was more than happy to briefly chat with us about the concert we had all just witnessed (among other things). I couldn’t possible write a better ending to an already epic story if I tried.

The *Rewind It Magazine* crew (from l to r; Jacob Striewski, Shawn McKee, Jesse Striewski, and Brooke Striewski) with Alter Bridge/Creed guitarist Mark Temonti after Paul McCartney’s show last Saturday, May 28 (Photo by Jhennifer McKee).

In Memoriam: Ivan Reitman (1946-2022)

By: Shawn McKee

Each year brings the inevitable loss of another cultural icon. It seems this has been happening a lot lately, especially for those of us who grew up in the ‘80s and ‘90s.

The recent passing of Ivan Reitman at 75 is another reminder of irreplaceable talent in a fast-paced, ever-changing world. Reitman was one of the most reliably talented in his field. As the director, producer, and/or writer of countless seminal classics, his work behind the camera helped define the essence of modern American comedy. His films launched the careers of several comedic legends throughout the ‘80s, while reveling in absurd, wildly original concepts that always delivered.

Reitman’s strength lied in his dedication to offbeat premises and the realism necessary to keep them grounded. His track record wasn’t perfect, but there’s a reason his films remain so beloved today. He respected audiences and sought primarily to entertain. But none of that would have been possible without an adept storytelling methodology and greater understanding of the comedy formula overall.

Reitman was born in the Slovakian town of Komárom in 1946 to parents who were both Holocaust survivors. His family later immigrated to Canada, where Reitman studied music and directed several short films. After years of TV and stage production gigs, his first professional foray into film production began with two films from Canadian horror legend David Cronenberg, Shivers (1975) and Rabid (1977).

Soon after, he found early success as producer behind the anarchic comedy hit Animal House (1978), notable for its memorable ensemble cast, including the great John Belushi. Reitman’s directorial debut Meatballs (1979) gave Bill Murray his first starring role as a clownish camp counselor. This was followed by another Reitman-directed comedy hit Stripes (1981), starring Murray and Harold Ramis, who sadly passed away in 2010.

Stripes further set the tone of the anti-establishment comedy prevalent during that time and featured Murray and Ramis as two aimless slackers who join the Army on a whim. Reitman seemed to have a knack for cultivating comic talent in what critics deemed the “slob genre,” mainstreamed by movies like Caddyshack (1980). But nothing could contend with the multi-million dollar cultural phenomenon that followed.

Ghostbusters exploded into cinemas in 1984 and quickly became the highest grossing comedy of its time. The supernatural special effects extravaganza was scripted by Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis, introducing a group of eccentric scientists who start their own ghost-catching business. Everything about the film has become a mainstay in our culture. The ubiquitous Ray Paker Jr. song and merchandise that followed continue the endearing legacy of a cherished film and its subsequent franchise.

As director, Reitman was primarily responsible for establishing a realistic backdrop to make the story more believable, and thus, more effective. Aykroyd initially envisioned the Ghostbusters battling supernatural entities in space. After several rewrites with Ramis and additional guidance from Reitman, the story was set in its now iconic location in the heart of New York City. Reitman hired effects wizard Richard Edlund and his company to deliver the groundbreaking special effects, including the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man’s downtown rampage. Reitman knew that for the film to work, everything needed to be convincing. He also expertly merged comedy, suspense, and horror into the proceedings. The results are pure movie magic and a testament to his directorial abilities.

Reitman followed his biggest hit with the moderately successful comedy drama Legal Eagles (1986), starring Robert Redford, Debra Winger, and Daryl Hannah. The idea stemmed from Reitman to emulate the sophisticated legal thrillers of the 1940s. But its impact paled in comparison to his next comedy, Twins (1988), starring Arnold Schwarzenegger (in his first comedic role) and Danny De Vito as two “twins” reunited after being separated at birth. By this period, Reitman displayed a mastery of the form and once again delivered a fantastical premise with heart, suspense, comedy, and broad appeal.

Ghostbusters II (1989) was released during a summer of blockbusters that included Batman, Back to the Future Part II, and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. It held its own and successfully brought back the original cast for more supernatural adventures in NYC. As a child, Ghostbusters II was the first film of the franchise I saw in theaters. It left me enthralled, even rivaling Batman as my favorite movie of the year. Today, the film holds up just as well as the original, despite what the naysayers say. Reitman’s direction remains reliably solid, utilizing the effective chemistry of the film’s key players and equally impressive special effects.

Kindergarten Cop (1990) saw Reitman once again team up with Schwarzenegger to deliver a raucous comedy blockbuster based on an improbable concept turned real. In this case, Schwarzenegger’s hard-edged detective character goes undercover as a kindergarten teacher to catch a bad guy. The movie was criticized as being too intense for children, which speaks to Reitman’s knack of fusing several genre elements together. Reitman was still at the top of his game, delivering the comedy hit Dave in 1993, the successful but embarrassing Junior (1994), and his welcomed return to science fiction comedy with Evolution in 2001.

When not directing, he produced dozens of notable films throughout the ‘90s and 2000s. He never stopped working, even producing the latest incarnation of the Ghostbusting franchise, Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021), directed by his son, Jason. For someone beholden to comedy, it’s evident by the sheer quality of his work that he took his profession and work seriously.

The passing of a film director may not have the same impact as an actor, musician, athlete, or noted celebrity. The same could be said for scientists, authors, physicians, or anyone whose grand achievements occur outside of the limelight. We only know what we see. To me, a director’s work represents one piece of their catalog. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, but I always look for the stylistic similarities.

I remember seeing the Twins trailer in the coming attractions before The Land Before Time (1988). It showed two newborn babies crying, still in the hands of doctors, with caption across both infants that read, “Danny De Vito” and “Arnold Schwarzenegger.” I was intrigued, especially when Reitman’s name was listed in the credits. I recognized his name from the sleeve of my worn-out VHS copy of Ghostbusters. Today, I remain grateful for his work. He gave us with laughter, excitement, and a love for the memorable characters and situations that will live on for generations to come.

Retrospective: 40 Years of John Carpenter’s Monstrous Masterpiece ‘The Thing’ By Shawn McKee

The makings of a good horror movie can be subjective. Within multiple horror subgenres exists a consensus of “greats ones” or influential classics that made an undeniable cultural impact. When trying to examine my own love of horror films, I’ve found excitement to be a prime motivating factor.

Danger, mystery, and suspense coupled with a dark, brooding atmosphere are perfect elements of any effective horror film. The creative ingenuity displayed in horror from the past hundred years is a remarkable testament to the human spirit. The sheer talent behind and in front of the camera throughout the twentieth century is overwhelming to consider. Today, we’re fortunate enough to witness horror from its infancy in the silent era to the movies of today.

Different things scare different people. Some people don’t like to be scared at all. I’m naturally drawn to the macabre, most likely due to the wealth of ‘80s horror films from my childhood. The 1980s were, after all, when horror was perfected. It’s a known fact. Of course, this wouldn’t have been possible without the springboard of the preceding decade’s “New Hollywood” movement that saw a new generation of filmmakers shifting control of studio system to a more independent, artistically driven one.

Before such notable times, Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960), George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968), and Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby (1968) singlehandedly changed the suspense/horror landscape, and studios took notice. The ‘70s gave us The Exorcist (1973), The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), Jaws (1975), and Halloween (1978), among others. These were serious films that made serious amounts of money, while leaving their mark as cultural milestones.

John Carpenter’s Halloween soon became the most successful independent film of its time. Carpenter followed with a string of hits that included The Fog (1980) and Escape from New York (1981). His next and most ambitious film would later stand as one of the greatest horror films ever made and a movie whose initial failure and unfair critical dismissal soured his career for years to come.

Carpenter was heavily influenced by the films of Howard Hawks, whose prolific, multi-genre career spanned decades. In 1951, Hawks produced a film adaptation of John W. Campbell’s 1938 science-fiction/horror novella Who Goes There? called, The Thing from Another World. This influence can be seen during scenes in Halloween, where black & white clips from the movie are shown on TV. Carpenter was initially reluctant to direct a new version of Campbell’s classic novella after being approached by Universal. But he soon realized the potential of updating the story for modern audiences and put his entire directorial forces behind it.

Much like the original story, John Carpenter’s The Thing takes place on an Antarctic outpost besieged by a shapeshifting alien monster unwisely unearthed from its frozen state by curious scientists. The alien has no known identify or feature. It simply consumes, absorbs, and replicates every living thing around it. Carpenter’s version focuses heavily on atmosphere, utilizing the isolated, secluded backdrop to its fullest. The ominous score by Ennio Morricone is also the first time Carpenter didn’t do the music himself, though he did contribute.

Kurt Russell leads a talented cast of twelve men as no-nonsense helicopter pilot R.J. MacReady, based on meteorologist McReady from the original novella. He’s joined by the great Keith David as Childs and Wilford Brimley as Blair, the chief surgeon. Fear and paranoia overtake the men as they soon realize that the alien has infiltrated their ranks. Anyone of them could be the Thing, and there’s no way of telling. The alien is relentless in its objectives. It also has the added advantage of fully existing within in a single drop of blood.

The Thing’s groundbreaking special effects were dismissed by critics at the time as nothing more than a grotesque spectacle. Carpenter had tapped Rob Bottin, a young, ambitious make-up effects artist known for his work in Joe Dante’s The Howling (1981). It’s said that Bottin spent an entire year creating the shape-shifting effects for The Thing. Such dedication shows, as the results remain some of the best and most horrific creations ever captured on film. Bottin would go on to work Robocop (1987) and Total Recall (1990), among other films before strangely disappearing from movies altogether.

After years of struggling with its initial failure, Carpenter has said that he considered The Thing his personal favorite of all his films. I agree, and I’m grateful that it has received the recognition it deserves. It’s a serious horror film. There’s little to no humor, the threat is real, and the nihilistic ending remains legendary. It’s also a work of art, created by a filmmaker in his prime. If you’re looking for a good horror movie, there’s no better place to start than this 1982 masterpiece.

Special Edition: The History of the Holiday Horror Film By Shawn McKee

Charles Dickens’s 1843 novella A Christmas Carol is as familiar as the holiday itself. As a quintessential story of redemption, it’s hard to imagine a world before Ebenezer Scrooge. Roughly a hundred years later, director Frank Capra delivered a similar redemptive tale with the Jimmy Stewart classic It’s a Wonderful Life (1946).

Both stories had elements of darkness within their exploration of humanity, but neither delved into the murder and mayhem of the Christmas slasher films that followed. It was only a matter of time before Santa Clause became a serial killer, which audiences would get their first glimpse of on screen in the brief “And All Through the House” segment in the 1972 film Tales From the Crypt.

The1970s and 80s introduced a decidedly macabre take on the holiday genre. Nonetheless, these films exhibited a certain charm amid their profitable nihilism. It was a special time and place, where young filmmakers thrived in merging horror tropes with the holidays, long before Tim Burton arrived on the scene. One of the earliest examples of this twisted trend began with the aptly titled Black Christmas, a horror film that remains frightening to this day.

Black Christmas (1974)

Director Bob Clark played a pivotal role in launching the slasher genre with this tense, atmospheric film that entirely lives up to its reputation. Initially dismissed by critics, the movie has since gained a deeper appreciation for its artful cinematography, serious themes, and stark horror. Clark helped shape the prototype slasher film with a level of quality not often associated with the genre. There have been two worthless “name only” remakes, largely unrelated to the original plot.

The story involves a group of sorority girls being harassed by an unseen psycho who may or may not be known by them. Olivia Hussey, Margot Kidder, and Kier Dullea round out the talented cast, with some other familiar faces in the mix. As the murders continue unabated, we never learn the identity of the killer, which was something rarely, if ever, seen before. Black Christmas heavily inspired John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978), which led to the slasher boom of the 80s. Not content with one genre, Bob Clark later went on to direct the cherished holiday classic, A Christmas Story (1983).

Ralphie’s childhood quest for a Red Ryder BB gun is quite different than anything seen in Black Christmas, and it’s a testament to Clark’s versatility. Writer Jean Shepherd’s humorous, semi-fictional accounts of growing up in the 1950s is about as far from a slasher film one could get. Both films, in my opinion, can be appreciated on different levels. Clark cemented two equally enjoyable holiday classics for generations to come.

Olivia Hussey is terrorized in a scene from *Black Christmas* (1974).

Silent Night, Deadly Night (Part I-V)

The abundance of slasher films throughout the 80s weren’t without controversy. Bloody, elaborate special effects were often removed, following a merciless MPAA crackdown. In short, fans were left with tedious buildups to off-screen kills, amid other frustrations.

These films were seen as an affront to decency by parents and religious leaders alike, and maybe they were right. But nothing angers gore-loving teenagers more than censorship. I can attest to that. One movie, Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984), earned special derision from critic Roger Ebert, who called the profits from the film “blood money” in his heated review. He may have had a point as well. Horror movies, in general, are driven by profit. Violence sells, especially when it’s holiday themed.

Silent Night, Deadly Night continued the psychological tropes first introduced in Christmas Evil (1980). In both cases, traumatized, disturbed men unleashed their fury on society, dressed as Santa Clause. I’m still amazed that Silent Night, Deadly Night garnered five sequels, rendered unrecognizable by the fifth installment. The first film remains the best one, and the lengths they went to extend the series are a riot.

The initial outing tells the story of Billy Chapman (Robert Brian Wilson), who witnessed his parents’ murder at the hands of a Santa Clause-costumed killer. Chapman’s subsequent attempts at a “normal life” are derailed when he takes a job as a mall Santa and predictably snaps. It’s a straight-forward slasher that contains a certain depth to its portrayal of an orphaned child, doomed to the failures of the system.

The movie was pulled from theaters, following an outrage campaign in response to its commercials portraying an ax-wielding maniac dressed as Santa Clause. Simpler times, indeed. The shameless sequel presents forty minutes of footage from the original film through flashbacks recited by the brother of the original killer.

Ricky Caldwell (Eric Freeman), our demented lead, supposedly remembers everything about his brother’s descent, even though he was an infant at the time. All of this was intentional. Due to the first movie being pulled so quickly from theaters, the producers didn’t think anyone would notice if they “reassembled” the first film into a sequel. In the end, we were given an enjoyably bizarre suburban rampage, containing the brief but immortal “Garbage Day” segment. The movie is trash, but earnestly tries to breathe life into a pointless endeavor.

Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out (1989) is an anemic straight-to-video concoction, featuring a girl with psychic powers inexplicably linked to the killer, ala Friday the 13^th Part VII: The New Blood (1988). Back then, plenty of films shamelessly stole from the Brian De Palma’s masterful Stephen King adaptation Carrie (1976). It’s a movie so dull and boring, that it completely earns Ebert’s ire from the first installment.

The best thing that could be said about Silent Night, Deadly Night 4: Initiation (1990) is that it tries to be something completely different, even while copying Rosemary’s Baby (1969). It’s a cult movie, directed by the talented Brian Yuzna and starring the legendary Clint Howard. A young, ambitious reporter gets intertwined with a deadly witch cult. There’s plenty of mystery and intrigue that’s as enjoyable as a fourth entry can be. I appreciate their attempts to change things up, even if it has nothing to do with the original. It does take place during Christmas, allowing the cynical holiday tie-in to continue.

They weren’t even trying for consistency by the time Silent Night, Deadly Night 5: The Toy Maker (1991) rolled around. This bizarre entry features a deranged toy maker, as promised, portrayed by Mickey Rooney. My explanation of the plot wouldn’t do it justice, but it’s worth seeing out of morbid curiosity. In retrospect, I give it even more credit for shifting away from the source material. It’s the most ridiculous Christmas-themed movie you could see outside of Santa Clause Conquers the Martians (1964). One thing is for certain, Silent Night, Deadly Night films are less disturbing than the 1978 Star Wars Holiday Special, which still ranks as the most traumatic viewing experience of all time.

Since then, there has been an explosion of sorts of modern Christmas horror films, including a loose Silent Night, Deadly Night remake simply titled Silent Night (2012), as well as Krampus (2015), A Christmas Horror Story (2015), and Red Christmas (2016), among others. Each of these tried to put their own unique spins on the holiday horror genre, and all with varying results. But the above-named earlier films will always remain the go-to’s for anyone searching for true fright during the Christmas season.