Support Bruce LaBruce’s “Gerontophilia”

Toronto-based artist, filmmaker, writer, and photographer Bruce LaBruce is currently in production for his 8th feature film, Gerontophilia, and he needs/deserves your support. You can learn more about the project and donate funds here.

DIRECTOR’S STATEMENT
While it might not in any conventional sense be considered science fiction, Gerontophilia is at its heart a time travel movie. It takes as its subject a love affair of sorts between an eighty year old man and an eighteen year old boy: two old souls who, had they met each other somewhere else along the space/time continuum, might have become the perfect couple. The old man, Mr. Peabody, lost the love of his life, Smitty, when they were both in their twenties in a swimming accident. Alone for most of his life, and finally abandoned in a nursing home, the old man succumbs to the cruelty of the institution where he is confined, overmedicated with psychotropic drugs and sometimes tied down with restraints. His only consolation is the memories he has of Smitty that come to him almost like hallucinations as he drifts in and out of consciousness, particularly one in which the couple spend a summer’s day on the beach at the Pacific Ocean. Here it’s almost as if he’s time traveling, too.

Bruce LaBruce was a contributor to the third volume of Incognitum Hactenus, Living On: Zombies. Click here to read the original script for his amazing genre film, Otto…Or Up With Dead People.

Fango Flashbacks

In November, the VHS Vault program I co-curate at Nitehawk Cinema co-presented a series of real “turkeys” with Fangoria in celebration of the Thanksgiving holiday season. In conjunction with this program, I wrote briefly on each of the films for Fangoria’s “Fango Flashback” which is their ongoing series that looks back at the “classics”. It was a bloody good time.

Fango Flashback: BLOOD FEAST (1963)
Horror cinema has many Godfathers. James Whale, Val Lewton, Mario Bava, and George A. Romero have all laid down the foundation of what we collectively consider to be the “horror film.” Mixed in with these founding forefathers of horror is the varied bunch of “B” geniuses: Edgar G. Ulmer, Roger Corman, and…Herschell Gordon Lewis. As the crowned “Godfather of Gore” and the near antithesis to Mr. Lewton, Lewis created the “splatter” subgenre in his over-the-top movies that would set the wheels in motion for future generations of American horror filmmakers. On the cusp of its fiftieth anniversary, Nitehawk Cinema and FANGORIA revisit Lewis’ first filmic foray into horror by presenting the VHS version of his cheap and charming 1963 flick, BLOOD FEAST. READ THE REST

Fango Flashback: BLOOD FREAK (1972)
Although many films in the 1970s dealt with the horror of the Vietnam War and the affected soldiers’ difficult return to “normal” life in the United States (LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT, DEATHDREAM, TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE), BLOOD FREAK certainly isn’t one of them.Vietnam vet / motorcycle rider Herschell certainly has some demons in his closet but this movie doesn’t really take us there with him. Providing a ludicrous quasi-morality tale on consumption (drugs, the bible, turkey, women), BLOOD FREAK is not exceptionally gory or gratuitous or even offensive. It is, however, horribly produced, horrendously acted, and has appalling dialogue. Yet still (still!), BLOOD FREAK is so damn entertaining that to revel in its kitsch should be a horror fan’s inalienable right. There is some indefinable quality here that makes this tale, one of a muscle-man-turned-drug-addicted-killer-turkey-man, one for the ages. READ THE REST

Fango Flashback: HOME SWEET HOME (1981)
Lovingly low-budget and certainly “inspired” by HALLOWEEN, HOME SWEET HOME occurs around what we can only gather is a Thanksgiving celebration at a failed music producer’s country home. It brings together all sorts of ambiguous relationships (who, exactly, is with whom?) that includes a small child named Angel (played by future EYES WIDE SHUT and THE HILLS HAVE EYES reboot star Vinessa Shaw), a wailing Latina, a mime/magician/guitarist, two over-sexed friends, a horny couple and the aforementioned producer. And all, save the two obligatory final girls, will perish in fairly comical ways by the ridiculously beefy unmasked version of “The Shape.” READ THE REST

Marnie Weber – The Night of Forevermore

If it is said that Hieronymus Bosch draws with his brush, then Marnie Weber films with her sculptures.

Marnie Weber’s The Night of Forevermore is a static space housing monsters, demons, witches, human-animal hybrids; all of which come alive with slow, repetitive gestures and sound. It’s a Hieronymous Bosch painting brought to life, a haunting world with creatures familiar and strange, each with their own woe, purpose, and revenge. Bosch’s paintings are infamously crowded, layered with forms of life and death co-mingling in this liminal boundary between heaven and hell. It is an area of foretold ghosts. And retained within the picture plain and filmic frame, Weber’s animated sculpture remain spread across the entire tableau but firmly placed on an individual stage.

Of course, the activating power that elevates the concept of a painting into a moving image in The Night of Forevermore is the camera itself. Through the all-seeing eye of Weber’s lens, the viewer is shown this world of dreams and nightmares beginning with a static shot where movement begins individually, slowly, and then all at once. This overview pans away, purposefully, to show the action and the function of each creature – the musician, the crying pig, the riding witch, the executioner – giving the audience privileged mobility. It’s the opposite of Bosch’s chaotic evocation of confusion where our eyes dart maniacally across the surface. Weber’s calculated pacing lends the bizarre, gruesome, and monstrous scene an elevated other worldly aura. The strangeness becomes tactile.

Weber’s films themselves are like dreams, with images floating from space to scene in non-linear time as her representational figures suggest eternal ramifications for questionable deeds. The protagonist in The Night of Forevermore is a young and innocent girl (played by Weber’s own daughter, Colette Rose Shaw) shown her own dreamlike/nightmarish journey to escape the darkness. She is the only one with the freedom to move, her ability traverse through these alternate realms only being because she is still fighting the evil damnation the witch (played by Weber) has subjected her to. Hers is an unexpected reality, confronting a devilish figure, escaping the witch’s clutches, waking up in strange alternate universes. Similar to the horror film heroine (aka the Final Girl), her experience is a visualize metaphor living through life into adulthood. The Night of Forevermore is a late 15th century morality tale made contemporary through the influence of moviemaking.

However, as is typical with Weber’s tales, her monsters are not safely relegated to the spiritual (film) world. Instead, the gallery space functions as a portal through which Weber brings forth these beings through objects. The painting and collage on wood works (a first) provide a literal weight to what I’ve always associated as her unique version of film stills. Furthering the narratives in the film and withholding the freedom of movement the film provides, these collage pieces segues perfectly into the sculptural versions of select characters. Haunting us with their presence, the old witch sits still in a rocking chair while watching us watch the film, a bed of fruitless trees lurk nearby. One almost expects them to begin moving, just a twitch, as the film has shown us that even paintings, even creatures in the night, can come alive, seek us out, and steal our souls.

Marnie Weber’s The Night of Forevermore at Marc Jancou Gallery (New York, September 13 – November 3, 2012) 

Sinister walls: representation and repetition

In continuing the exploration of the slipages that occur between imitation and homage in contemporary creative forms, here is an interesting correlation of imagery from the new “home video discovery turns to haunting” film Sinister with Stan Shellabarger’s 2005 performance at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago and Paul McCarthy Face, Head, Shoulder Painting – Wall Black Line (1972). Shellabarger and McCarthy’s embodies these prolific similarities of reference between horror cinema and visual art as their work deals with repetition, endurance, and a relationship to the space that surrounds them.

Thanks to Scott Speh at Western Exhibitions.

Related in the series: Cabin in the Woods and Peter Doig’s 1990s cabin paintings.

Night of New Horror at Nitehawk

Last Tuesday was a night of celebrating new horror at Nitehawk Cinema and I was thrilled to be a part of it. First, Incognitum Hactenus held a part for the release Living On: Zombies (Vol. 3) with “undead soul” tunes by Dave Tompkins and Jim Shaw’s film The Hole. Then we screened three films I curated (based on video and found footage) by Darren Banks before the New York premiere of Magnolia Picture’s new horror anthology V/H/S. And lastly, we presented Banks’ amazing “tech gone wrong” montage for the after-party. To relive the event, check out the pics…

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Open Call for Submission: Historical Trauma

The fourth issue of Incognitum Hactenus will be published in connection with my exhibition On the Desperate Edge of Now at Dumbo Arts Center (New York) in Feburary 2013. There will be an online version and printed catalogue version of this issue. We are seeking contributions that deal with ghosts, history, the cinematic, cultural memory, historical trauma, and the conflation of time.

On the Desperate Edge of Now explores historical trauma, collective cultural experience, and personal memory as represented in contemporary visual art and horror film. Titled after the first episode of British filmmaker Adam Curtis’ 1994 BBC documentary The Living DeadOn the Desperate Edge of Now positions the construction of memory as a coping mechanism for both the individual and an international public. Expanding the notion of “horror” to include a more philosophical context of understanding the world, this exhibition employs horror cinema as a structural guide to locate the ever-present now. Through an adoption of Gilles Deleuze and Henri Bergson’s notion of the now as an “ever shifting amalgam of past, present, and future”, On the Desperate Edge of Now aims to evoke a haunting at DUMBO Arts Center in February 2013. Artists: Heather Cantrell, Folkert de Jong, Joachim Koester, and Marnie Weber.

Open call: if you are interested in contributing to On the Desperate Edge of Now please send a 200 word abstract to both editors: tom.trevatt@hotmail.com and caryn@caryncoleman.com. Please note that not all submissions will be accepted for publication.

Image: Folkert de Jong, Operation Harmony (2008)

Living On: Zombies Release Party

The journal I co-edit is having a release party in New York for our latest issue, Living On: Zombies

INCOGNITUM HACTENUS INVITES YOU TO…

LIVING ON: ZOMBIES RELEASE PARTY
Tuesday, October 2 from 7 – 9pm
Nitehawk Cinema (cafe)

Pre-party for the 9:30pm NY premiere of V/H/S (new horror anthology film released by Magnolia Pictures)

Screening: Jim Shaw’s The Hole (2007)
Spinning: “Undead Soul” by Dave Tompkins

Special horror cocktail: the Corpse Reviver
Stuff: Free digital copies of Living On: Zombies | check out books by contributors 

Thanks to Magnolia PicturesNitehawk CinemaBlonde Art BooksDarren BanksDave Tompkins, and all of our contributors!

Curator gone mad: the 1966 film “It!”

While there are more “artists as villains” in horror films, there are a select few gems of “curators as killers” too (usually involving some sort of occult-practice and historical knowledge). My most recent find it this 1966 British film It! starring Roddy MacDowall as a twisted assistance curator who uses the museum’s newfound acquisition, a 16th century Golem, to increase his standing in life. The museum exteriors and interiors in It! are in London’s impressive Imperial War Museum.