Popcorn For Thanksgiving

To my fellow US citizens: as you prepare to stuff yourselves at dinner tables across the country tomorrow in celebration of the Thanksgiving holiday, I suggest that as you feast on turkey that you also leave some room for Popcorn.

Popcorn, a funky, B-movie adoring slasher pic from 1991, is one of those movies that was first discovered by so many fans on VHS that it tends to be forgotten that it played in theaters but it definitely did as I saw it on its opening weekend and liked it immediately. Prior to Popcorn's release, late night TV was deluged with commercials like this:



Upon hitting theaters on February 1st, 1991, Popcorn was fated to be overshadowed at the box office by one of the greatest genre films of the decade, The Silence of the Lambs, which arrived just two weeks later on February 14. Of course, Popcorn was never going to be a blockbuster - regardless of whatever competition it faced - but it looked especially puny next to the high-caliber frights of Silence. Silence was A-class all the way while Popcorn represented horror at its most B-level, right down to their leading ladies. Unlike Jodie Foster, Popcorn star Jill Schoelen - one of the last of the '80s Scream Queens, having starred in The Stepfather (1987) and The Phantom of the Opera (1989) - was a long way from Oscar gold.

But B-movies and their players have their own immortality and Popcorn has steadily built a fanbase over the years. Schoelen stars as Maggie, a film student haunted by fragmented dreams who comes to believe that Laynard Gates, a Manson-esque cult leader who attempted to burn his followers alive, is stalking her inside the old movie house where her class is hosting an all-night horror marathon. As in her other genre efforts, Schoelen makes a game, appealing heroine and the supporting cast has more personality than the average slasher ensemble.

This is likely due to the fact that, as opposed to the slasher films of the early '80s which had usually starred unknowns, new to acting, Popcorn's cast were all seasoned performers. Tom Villard (One Crazy Summer) was pushing forty when he played Toby, and the rest of the young cast - Ivette Soler (now a garden designer and consultant known as The Germinatrix) as Joanie, Malcolm Danare ("Moochie" from Christine) as the wheelchair-bound Bud, and Kelly Jo Minter (Summer School, The People Under The Stairs) as Cheryl - were all in their mid-to-late twenties and had many credits to their names. All were able to make their slightly written Popcorn roles seem a little fuller than they are.

And in the tradition of classic '80s slashers, Popcorn also included some old-school pros in its cast. Following in the footsteps of Donald Pleasence (Halloween), Glenn Ford (Happy Birthday to Me), Leslie Nelson (Prom Night), and Vera Miles (The Dorm That Dripped Blood), Tony Roberts (Annie Hall), Dee Wallace Stone (The Howling), and Ray Walston (Fast Times At Ridgemont High) joined Popcorn's young performers.

Ultimately, the biggest problem with Popcorn is that it isn't scary, something that's never good for a horror film. But Popcorn's affectionately observed mock movies, like The Amazing Electrified Man (featuring Bruce Glover) and Mosquito, are dead-on in every detail and the film's wittily conceived slasher scenes, which make lethal use of William Castle-style gimmickry, are worth a chuckle (in the annals of horror cinema, only Popcorn has a character speared by a giant prop mosquito).

Popcorn likely would've been a far better film had Alan Ormsby and Bob Clark, the duo responsible for '70s classics like Deathdream, had stayed with the production in their respective roles of writer/director (replaced during filming by the producers by Mark Herrier, the faux films are all that's left of Ormsby's work, but they show how key his contributions were) and writer and associate producer (Clark had his name taken off Popcorn's credits) but unfortunately we'll never know.

Currently, an effort is underway to not only reissue Popcorn on DVD (until that happens, I'll continue to closely guard my copy) but to also film a retro-documentary as well (check out their production blog here). As all the principal players involved in the film - save sadly for Tom Villard, who passed away in 1994, and Bob Clark, who was killed in a car accident in 2007 - are still alive and well, I hope it happens. In the meantime, check out this recent interview with Jill Schoelen at Late Night Classics. Popcorn may never have the kind of following that other horror films of similar vintage have garnered, but, like its hot, buttered namesake, it's still tasty company for movie fans.

The Horror Canon: 35 Horror Films You MUST See

If you're a horror fan, a question that's usually asked by non-fans is: "what's wrong with you?" But a more friendly question that you also sometimes hear is: "what should I watch?" It's easy to forget that not everyone has already seen the same classics that you have. And with almost 80 years of genre cinema to explore, the uninitiated could use a suggestion or two on what to see first. Luckily, Brian Solomon (aka B-Sol) of the esteemed The Vault of Horror, has put the collective minds of the best horror bloggers to work - a group who he dubs "the Cyber-Horror Elite" - at assembling a list that could stand as "The Horror Canon". Each member had to compile a list of ten films and then the final list would be tallied from everyone's individual picks. It's not easy to choose just ten films but if I didn't comply, I'd be kicked out of the Cyber-Horror Elite and that means I'd stop getting the perks of membership - like 5% discount at all Arby's restaurants (except in Ohio) - so I had to step up and do it.

For the record, my picks were:

1. Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

2. Freaks (1932)

3. Night of the Living Dead (1968)

4. The Exorcist (1973)

5. Halloween (1978)

6. Dawn of the Dead (1978)

7. The Thing (1982)

8. The Brood (1979)

9. The Blair Witch Project (1999)

10. Audition (1999)

I don't quite stand by my list as I forgot to include the one film that I believe no list of great horror films should be without. But that's the kind of gaffe that happens when you're in a rush, right? If I had to correct my mistake, Freaks - as great as it is - would have to go to make room for Psycho (1960). Or maybe The Brood would be better left off instead - but then I don't think any list of indispensable horror should be Cronenberg-free. Other than needing to place Psycho somewhere, though, I think the list is pretty sound.

The full Horror Canon list of 35 films is now up at The Vault of Horror, and it's a pretty interesting one. Lists like this aren't so much interesting to me for what classics make it onto them, but for the newer films that do. It's a given that films like Frankenstein, Psycho, and Night of the Living Dead will be included in any "must-see" list of horror classics but I like to see what new films fans consider to be worthy of that company - even if I don't necessarily agree. Some are obvious, like Saw (2004) - other are a complete WTF, like Orphan (2009). I loved Orphan but a film that's still playing in theaters shouldn't be on a list of the Horror Canon (ranking above Jaws and The Evil Dead, no less!). If any film that recent was going to make it, it should've been Drag Me To Hell. Still, it's nice to see some excitement out there for the latest genre offerings.

As for what didn't make the list that really should've - the omission of Carnival of Souls (1962) jumps out at me, as does the absence of Carrie (1976). I mean, come on - it's not a true list of the Horror Canon without Carrie! And no An American Werewolf in London (1981), either? And not a single David Cronenberg film? And I'm not seeing Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) on here - what gives? But of course this is what happens when people vote separately. I'm sure if all these horror-savvy people were brought together to pass choices between each other and refine the list, it would look very different and be much more definitive. But these lists are just meant to be fun, to be enjoyed, and to spark debate. And this definitely does that - and then some!

Although I believe we all made a terrible mistake by not including Popcorn (1992):

What were we thinking?

Popcorn

Part Mystery Science Theater, part Rocky Horror Picture Show, and part A Nightmare on Elm Street, the uneven but fondly remembered Popcorn (1991) cynically chased after the fading slasher successes of the '80s, but offered a sincere celebration of the monster movies of the '50s - and the promotional gimmickry that was often used to sell them (in that regard, director Joe Dante would tread similar territory in 1993 with his affectionate William Castle homage, Matinee).

As Popcorn opens, a young film student named Maggie (played by Jill Scholen, the underrated scream queen of The Stepfather and Phantom of the Opera) is haunted by strange, reoccurring dreams filled with disjointed images. Baffled as to the source of these dreams, Maggie intends to incorporate this vivid, subconscious imagery as part of her student film project but when the University's film department suddenly finds its funding cut, their professor (Amityville 3-D's Tony Roberts) offers Maggie and her classmates a chance to raise some money on their own by hosting a marathon of '50s horror movies - all with their vintage promotional gimmicks - at the local Dreamland Theater, a building soon scheduled for demolition. In this appropriately named "Dreamland", Maggie's waking world and her fragmented dreams will be fused into one.

While readying the theater for paying customers, the students come across a film made by cult guru Lanyard Gates who murdered his followers at the Dreamland years earlier in a deranged attempt at 'art' only to perish himself during the fiery incident (reminiscent of Richard Lynch's cult leader from 1988's Bad Dreams, who also fried his followers). Gates' film is called "The Possessor" and Maggie is overwhelmed to see that it corresponds to images from her own fevered dreams. Days later as the film festival swings into motion, Maggie notices a mysterious figure stalking the Dreamland among the garishly costumed crowds - and believes that this is Lanyard Gates, still alive. No one believes her, of course, but behind the scenes this same figure is stalking and killing Maggie's fellow students one by one with Maggie left to wonder why she's the final target of a madman's revenge.

Anticipating Scream (1996) by several years, Popcorn has the same sort of narrative self-reflections that Craven's film was celebrated for (in one layered moment, Lanyard Gates beckons viewers to "Come into my head!", from the psychedelic frames of "The Possessor" as Maggie watches the film within the very theater that she herself has spent so much time dreaming about), and the film gets good mileage from its story elements of reel vs. real. Although one wishes that director Mark Herrier had been able to bring some De Palma-esque flair to the script's well-conceived set-pieces.

Marking the first time since Black Christmas (1974) that Bob Clark and Alan Ormsby collaborated on a horror project, the two ultimately took their names off the credits - with Ormsby's writing credit going to the pseudonym Tod Hackett (and Herrier replacing Ormsby as director - this was to be Ormsby's first solo directing gig) and Clark's associate producer duties going uncredited (the 'Bob Clark' responsible for Popcorn's make-up FX is unrelated). Why both men decided to distance themselves from the finished film is unknown but Popcorn still bears the duo's creative stamp.

The films-within-the-film are Popcorn's real highlight, made with an exacting eye (and ear) to the conventions of the genre. The big bug film Mosquito recalls the atomic age likes of Them! and Tarantula; The Attack of the Amazing Electrified Man (starring familiar character actor Bruce Glover) echoes films like The Indestructible Man in which men are transformed by science into rampaging monsters; and finally the Japanese monster movie The Stench, filmed in "Aroma-Rama", gets the shortest amount of screen time with no memorable clips to its credit - its humor is strictly limited to playing up the infamous bad dubbing of Japanese imports.

The gimmicks for Mosquito and Electrified Man are both out of the William Castle play book with a giant prop mosquito flown on wires over the audience during the climax of Mosquito and Tingler-esque electric shocks delivered to wired theater seats during the climax to Electrified Man. Ormsby's script turns these prankish gimmicks into lethal weapons to good effect. The giant mosquito is hi-jacked by the killer, for example, and turned into a deadly missile - spearing a hapless off-stage victim through the heart as the unknowing audience is still cheering the prop's cheesy appearance. Moments like this raise Popcorn above standard B-fare, revealing a fleeting inventiveness.

The overriding slasher storyline and the mystery concerning the killer's identity isn't much, however (even though it brings its own group of cinematic references to the table - with visual and thematic cues to Phantom of the Opera, House of Wax, and The Abominable Dr. Phibes) so as the larger plotline moves more and more to the foreground, Popcorn becomes a lot less fun. Towards the end we get the inevitable moment where the revealed killer rants to a captive Jill Scholen and the movie never quite recovers. It doesn't help at all that Maggie's lunkheaded boyfriend is called on to make a bumbling rescue attempt at the climax, swinging clumsily over the Dreamland's audience on his way to the theater stage with exaggerated cries of "Whoa! Whoooa!". It's not enough to completely undo the good vibe of the film but it might make you wonder: where's a lethal prop mosquito when you really need one?

The irony of Popcorn is that for a movie whose plot was so indebted to the lost art of selling cheesy exploitation films, its own marketing was so poorly handled.

Lackluster ads for Popcorn that referenced Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th and promoted "The Possessor" as predating them all were just confusing and didn't hint at Popcorn's quirky appeal. Despite its celebration of crowd participation and of the shared joys of movie watching, Popcorn played to mostly empty theaters - only to later find its audience one-on-one on home video.