Clap For The Wolfman

This devilish brute was a treat to watch chewing

up the scenery in The Werewolf of London

'Tis that time of the year, this very week in fact, when all things supernatural fascinate even the meekest among us. Halloween is nearly upon us, and most folks like to, at the very least, curl up with a scary movie or two on that very special evening. I know I do.

Among all the ghosts, demons, zombies, mutated beasties, vampires, man-made monsters, serial-killers, and undead mummies, my favourite mythological creature stands at the top of the bunch - the fun and furry werewolf.

There are countless werewolf re-imaginings in film, but I can certainly narrow them down to some of my favourites plus the most iconic growlers ever:

My fascination with the lycanthrope (shape-shifter) goes way back to my childhood when I first saw Abbott and Costello battle (no, run away from, really) The Wolf Man. Portrayed by the immortal horror actor Lon Chaney Jr, this werewolf also starred in the classic The Wolf Man and its "spin-off" monster-mashes Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, House of Frankenstein, and House of Dracula. These were all products of the Silver Age of horror movies, an era of spooky monsters in glorious black and white. 

The Werewolf of London kicked things off nicely in 1935 with a unique twist: a rare plant that only blooms during a full moon is used as a temporary antidote for English botanist Wilfred Glendon's werewolfism. Great fun even today, this movie features the earliest depiction of a "wolf man" in mainstream cinema. 

The Wolf Man of 1941 is perhaps my favourite of all horror movies. I never tire of watching poor Lon Jr sweating it out as the full moon activates the gypsy curse that was placed upon him. And then the young chap sprouts fur and fangs and roams the moors looking for dinner. Things get a bit bloody, but hey, he just can't help himself. That famous man-to-wolfman transformation scene is still a beaut to watch, perhaps not as slick as modern special effects would give us, but those early creative techniques heavily influenced shape-shifters in every horror film made since. 

A lesser-known but very effective chiller from the 40's was The Unknown Monster, which I recently re-enjoyed... mainly for its moody setting and fine acting, since the creature did not reveal itself until the very end. Still fine.

Oliver Reed helped revitalize the horror genre in the 60's with his contribution in Curse of the Werewolf, a colourful tale by Hammer Studios. This, along with Hammer's re-booted Dracula, Frankenstein and Mummy franchises, chiseled these monsters into the public consciousness once again. 

1981 offered a double-whammy of modern classics with The Howling and An American Werewolf in London. The Howling set some groundbreaking special effects standards, impressive in their own right, though American Werewolf stepped it up even further, especially with the metamorphosis scenes. Both movies provided dark comedy to counter the very violent and bloody visuals, and the combination was intoxicating. These two are among my fave horrors of all time. The Howling spawned a series of sequels, of which I've only seen a few. They vary in quality, but for the most part, they retain a twisted sense of humour that somehow allows us to swallow these often ludicrous stories. Like the were-marsupials in Howling III - wacky and rather bad, but so bad it's good, if you know what I mean.

Also in '81, we got Wolfen, which I found kind of disappointing. This was actually a crime thriller about real special wolves as the antagonists - no shape-shifting involved. Who knows, maybe I'd appreciate this more now that I'm all grown up.

The Company of Wolves from '84 was one of the most beautiful-looking horror movies ever made, drenched in atmosphere and a fairy-tale style that transports the viewer into a more innocent realm, which does become rather dark and sexualized at times. 

Stephen King's story Silver Bullet was successfully adapted to the silver screen in the 80's. I quite like it, even though it gets a bit corny, but hey, that decade had such a great vibe in its genre movies. 

I think the most recent "good" werewolf movie I saw was Ginger Snaps, which had its merits as an exploration of a more modern mythology blended with a teenage girl's experiences with lycanthropy. I plan to revisit this very shortly, in fact. Here's hoping I like it as much as I did the first time. 

Now it's time to put on Warren Zevon's howling good song Werewolves of London:

"I saw a werewolf drinkin' a pina colada at Trader Vic's
And his hair was perfect..."

Just one of the gruesome stages of shape-shifting

in The Howling

Listen to the Band

My old videotape of a handful of Monkees TV show 

episodes... though I don't watch VHS anymore, this is

still a cool-looking little collectible. And a fine-looking

postcard pic of the band. 

Hey, hey, I've got some Monkees stuff here... I was recently digging through my closet, shelves and drawers (not the kind you wear) and found some fun old Monkees stuff I picked up years ago. First, there is the old VHS tape that I bought from Columbia House Record, CD and Video Club back in the 90's. There are a few episodes of the Monkees TV show from the 60's on there, which I enjoyed revisiting after a couple of decades of missing that classic musical comedy program. Silly and creative, the show pre-dated the music videos that ruled the tele-universe in the 80's and beyond. Sure, the Beatles' A Hard Day's Night movie was the first to really venture into this experimental medium, but the Monkees took it to the next level.

The U.S. sit-com was irreverent and imaginative with it's blend of stories, sketch comedy, and musical performances. The show ran from 1966-68, just two TV seasons, but won two Emmy Awards and paved the way to the MTV generation with its innovative film techniques. And it played in heavy syndication for many years later.

The Monkees program was inspired by A Hard Day's Night, and though only three of the four young lads chosen after auditions had even a little previous musical experience, the quartet, after initially providing only vocals to instrumentation by studio musicians, honed their skills so that they truly became a performing band in their own right. The TV show was run with a tight rein over the boys' input, and their early record releases allowed little more from them. But once the Monkees felt confident writing and playing their own music, they put their foot down about recording only themselves onto their albums. 

Apparently many sets and props from the Three Stooges short films were used in the Monkees episodes. Coolest fact ever!

Micky Dolenz, the drummer and vocalist, was always my favourite Monkee. His wacky sense of humour always got me laughing, while the rest of the gang sort of mugged their way along as best they could. And Mickey's singing style, usually light-hearted and fun, really punched up terrific songs like Goin' Down, I'm a Believer, Steppin' Stone, and She. Vocalist and tambourine man Davy Jones was marketed as the "dreamboat" for the girls in the audience, while Peter Tork on bass and keyboards was the naive one, and guitarist Michael Nesmith (wearing the knit cap) was the smart and serious guy - and seemed to be the leader of the band.

A mint condition Monkees jigsaw puzzle

that I've hung onto for many years. Never 

even opened, let alone assembled.

The Monkees were one of my favourite bands (second to only The Beatles) for many years, and they still remain among my all-time faves. Great, timeless pop music, much of it written by top songwriters of the era, like Boyce and Hart, Neil Diamond, Neil Sedaka, Gerry Goffin, and Carole King. 

And The Monkees TV show was something else altogether... a visually and overall stylistically unique creation that had more ambition and experimentation than anything else in the glut of formulaic comedy programming of the 60's. Watching it today, my only real gripe is the over-use of laugh track, which I find really grating at the best of times. Just let me watch and enjoy, and I'll decide when to laugh, instead of listening to that canned roar after nearly every line of dialogue (even the unfunny ones). 

I don't think I was mentally prepared when I saw the Monkees' movie Head some years ago. It seemed to be a very disjointed mish-mash of stuff that I couldn't really get into, but I think it's high time I gave the film another chance. I might appreciate it more nowadays. Might. 

Bats in the Belfry

A Flock of Seagulls,anyone?

The new film about the real life Prince of Darkness, Dracula Untold, has got me thinking about the history of this character in cinema. Scores of movies depicting the fictional count have littered cinemas ever since the dawn of moving pictures. 

Without going into great detail about every movie ever made, I will at least mention some of the most notable - and my favourite - Dracula films. It was in 1922 that Germany brought us Nosferatu, an unauthorized adaptation of Bram Stoker's original novel. This silent classic still stands up nearly a century later. The lighting, set design, and camera-work set up an eerie and unsettling atmosphere that can't be denied, even by today's standards. 

Then in 1931 Hungarian actor Bela Lugosi established himself as the most recognizable Dracula of all time. His take on the king of vampires was suave and sophisticated, but a bit stagey, understandable given his theatrical background prior to the leap to the big screen. That overly dramatic style gave the film a charm all its own, though this could also be considered a drawback when compared with later incarnations of Drac. Lugosi played the role several times for Universal Studios, with other actors (John Carradine, Lon Chaney Jr) occasionally stepping in for him.

Christopher Lee rendered the character in a more menacing and violent manner when he donned the cape for the first of many Hammer Studios Dracula films - in 1958. Lee even played the part without any dialogue (very effectively, I should add) in Dracula, Prince of Darkness. This series was entertaining for the most part, with the odd stumble, especially into the 70's, when Lee reluctantly returned to the role.

Jack Palance did a wonderful job as the undead antagonist in the 1974 adaptation, certainly one of my favourites, if somewhat obscure. Check it out if you can.... this borrows the best of the Hammer elements while retaining much of the original written story. Palance relishes his chance at Drac as he wallows in the hissing, growling, and gore. A moody and creepy film.

Five years later Mr. Frank Langella put his own spin on the fanged character, portraying him as more of a romantic anti-hero. It's been a long time since I've seen this flick, but I recall enjoying it for the most part. Just not enough to add it to my movie library.

Good old Francis Ford Coppola (of Apocalypse Now fame) directed Gary Oldman as the ancient count for the 1992 adaptation. In my opinion, this stands among the best Dracula films ever made. A wicked blend of the traditional cinematic vampire with a highly stylized look and approach really lifts this to a higher level. Though performances are not strong from all parties (Oldman excepted, for he was outstanding), everything else about this weirdly supernatural picture is imaginatively and beautifully realized.

I haven't seen any Dracula movies since Coppola's version, and I don't think I'm missing much. It is so rare that these flicks really work that I simply won't waste time watching what often looks like a bad movie. Unless I hear plenty of critical praise... then I am more likely to take a chance on it. My standards are high.

Now THAT's what I'm talkin' 'bout....

Try the Wine

Too many guitars? Never!

It's been an awful long time, but there was a period when I was all about Canadian rock band April Wine. They were pretty big in the seventies and into the eighties, carrying on sort of for a long while more but not really producing much in the way of interesting new material. So be it... that happens. Few rock stars taste the fame forever. Even the best of them can experience a limited career life span, Maintaining even just a modicum of success after their heyday can be a continuous struggle, unless a band is resigned to simply putting on greatest hits shows for the rest of their lives.

Wine began as a musical force way back in '69, and cut their first record in '71, but it wasn't until the mid-to-late 70's that I became aware of them. I had some growing up to do first. 

I first heard April Wine on the radio, probably Oowatanite or Roller, a couple of their biggest hits. Very riffy and thick with rock guitar class and grit in equal parts, plus the vocal harmonies set them apart from other heavies back then. Other songs began to drift into my sphere, such as I Like to Rock, Weeping Widow, and 21st Century Schizoid Man (a cover of the King Crimson classic), changing my world for the better. These guys really knew how to write and play great, catchy, often heavy songs. They were also responsible for some of the most famous ballads of that era, too. One, from the seventies, was Tonight is a Wonderful Time to Fall in Love. Think you've never heard it? Find it on YouTube and you'll realize you have heard it - many times.

And two massive hit ballads appeared on the Wine's 1981 smash The Nature of the Beast (not to be confused with Iron Maiden's The Number of the Beast). Some sort of fanged hairy creature wailing on guitar adorns the cover of the album. April Wine, with this disc, helped set the stage along with Rush and Triumph for a run of amazing Canadian hard rock in the 80's. 

Back to those ballads now.... Sign of the Gypsy Queen, riddled with memorable guitar and vocal hooks, received a massive amount of attention, placing very respectably on both Canadian and U.S. song charts - hitting #11 on Billboard's Top Tracks. No small feat. Just Between You and Me was similarly melodic and dreamily-paced for high school dances. 

The Beast went double platinum in sales in Canada and even hit gold status in the States. I played the hell out of my copy of the album, and was pleased when CDs finally hit the market so I could upgrade from my trashed cassette tape.

It seemed that almost every song on The Nature of the Beast was in the rotation on radio stations. Easily half the album was good enough for that kind of airplay, and the rest of the set was no slouch either. Consistently good, with plenty of anthem choruses and big fun guitar hooks that you still hear on classic rock stations. My favourite track was (and still is) Wanna Rock, with Future Tense and Crash and Burn close behind. 

Wine's follow-up of '82 (the pressure must have been on to ride that wave of success from the previous year's Beast album), Power Play, boasted a couple of big hits which I quite liked: Anything You Want, You Got It... and Enough is Enough. Both sort of lightweight rockers that must have satisfied the band's and the recording company's wallets, and fun enough to keep the fans happy. The rest was rather generic and forgettable, so I ditched the album after a while, and there ended my fascination with April Wine. I prefer to remember them for their better work in the early years. Not really aging like fine wine, eh?

A Pall in the Fall of '69

After the summer of '69, there was the fall of '69 and.... it was on this day (October 12th) of that year that a Detroit radio station DJ received a phone call informing him that if he were to play the Beatles' song Strawberry Fields Forever backwards, he would hear John Lennon saying "I buried Paul". And that, dear readers, was what started the worldwide rumour that Paul McCartney was dead. That he had, in fact, died in 1966 and was replaced by a look-alike.

Apparently there were other "signs" that McCartney was no long with us, some of them appearing on Beatles album covers prior to that eerie phone call. The Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album art shows the four Beatles assembled front and centre before a crowd of celebrities and other famous faces. There is a hand above Paul's head, purportedly signifying the blessing of a body before internment. And "Beatles" is spelled out in red flowers upon what appears to be a grave... which is also adorned with a left-handed bass guitar (just like Paul's) composed of yellow flowers. All very weird. 

From the Yellow Submarine album art,

John holding his hand up as the Devil's Horns,

a gesture in many cultures to ward off bad luck

and even evil spirits.... right above Paul's head. 

The Magical Mystery Tour album cover shows Paul dressed as a black (symbolic of death) walrus, an ill omen for Viking hunters (if the hunters saw a dead walrus before the start of their hunt, they would turn back). There are other details but I won't list them all, seeing as there are many other web sources for such trivia. But as a point of interest, in the Magical Mystery Tour movie, in the scene where the Beatles are all decked out in white tuxedos, Paul is the only one wearing a black carnation in his lapel - while the others wore red carnations. There's that deathly black again.

Then there was 1969's famous Abbey Road album cover, showing Paul out of step with the other Beatles on the street crosswalk, drawing attention to him... plus there's the fact he is barefoot, which is how the dead are buried in several countries. Some say this photo depicts a funeral procession, with John dressed in white - representing the religious person, Ringo in black as the undertaker, then Paul in a baggy suit and barefoot - the deceased, and finally George, dressed in old denim jeans, as the gravedigger. Oh, and the licence plate on the white car reads "28IF", meaning Paul would have been 28 if he had not died. And again, there are several more details in the image but that discussion could go on forever. 

There are even clues in the music, intentional or not, but I side with the sceptics on this one, believing Paul has been with us all along, and that these "signs" are coincidental or perhaps a joke or hoax at best... or worst. 

And whether Paul was still with us or not, there was that other, later rumour that the Canadian band Klaatu was really the re-formed Beatles. I have practically zero knowledge of Klaatu, other than their song Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft, which I actually first heard done by The Carpenters (very well, I might add). There are elements of the song that remind me of some Beatles music... drumming that recalls the sound and style of Ringo's later Beatle work, and the overall vibe, vocals and arrangement could very well have been an even more experimental piece from the Magical Mystery Tour era. 

The Sun King? Nope, Klaatu's first album....

You Look Like Boris Karloff...

Oh wait, that's Tom Petty.... but he 

did do the song Zombie Zoo.

It's that time of year again, when we in North America (and maybe in some other parts of the world) celebrate Halloween. For me, the dressing up and trick-or-treating stuff is long over with, but I do dedicate much of October to watching scary movies. Well, some are scary, while others are simply atmospheric, weird, creepy, or even just goofy. 

It's been tough deciding on horror films to watch this year. Even though I have a pretty big collection of frightful flicks on home video, I still have trouble narrowing down my choices for the best viewings possible at this special time of the season. Since I'm more a fan of the oldies, I lean toward cinematic works earlier than the 90's. But I've watched so many of my beloved classic oldies so many times.... and that makes it difficult to re-watch some of them, even when the leaves are turning, the air is crisp, and the moon is full. The pressure is on.

So far this month, I've tried out a mix of old and new-ish. For example, I watched the 1957 Hammer Studios' gem Curse of Frankenstein, the moody 1940's werewolf tale The Undying Monster, the 2009 gross-shock fest Drag Me to Hell, and the quiet and unsettling 60's nugget Children of the Damned. Each is good in its own way, but to varying degrees. I'd say the Universal Studios' Golden and Silver Age of Horror will always outshine just about anything else... Undying Monster was far more entertaining than Curse of Frankenstein. And even though Drag Me to Hell was a lot of fun, Children of the Damned exhibited such restraint and tension that it would clearly win in a duel. 

Something that has dominated the horror genre in recent years, in both TV and movies, is the zombie phenomenon. I don't get it. I never did. I suppose Night of the Living Dead was the first zombie flick I ever saw, and that might have been in the early 80's. And it didn't do much for me. Sure, I acknowledge the movie's significance to the horror genre, but it's just not my sort of picture. "They're coming to get you, Barbara". Same goes for Carnival of Souls, a super-low-budget story about the undead trying to get back on the roller coaster. Meh.

But I guess if I were to mention a few zombie movies that I do like, at least a bit, I would say White Zombie (1932) which inspired Mr. Rob Zombie in the naming of his heavy metal band. White Zombie is considered the very first feature length zombie film. It's heavy on atmosphere but maybe lacks in the acting and story departments. I admire the look and feel of the movie, if nothing else. 

White Zombie was later compared to the stylish series of films by 40's horror master Val Lewton. Lewton's contribution to the genre came about with I Walked With a Zombie, a notable and eerie take on the walking dead. It's been a while since I've watched this one, but I may revisit it this month. Lewton's films were a wonder to look at, with his deft touch with camera angles, use of light and shadow, and the lack of background music.... the silence can be a killer.

28 Days Later (2002) was pretty good for a modern horror, a neat variation on the traditional formula. Its sequel 28 Weeks Later wasn't bad either. Both presented us with a new sort of "zombie"... not the kind raised from the grave through Haitian rites. 

Oh, and Shaun of the Dead (2004) was a silly and fun romp, a horror comedy that actually worked for me. Nothing like a bloody mess while laughing your head off. Leave it to Simon Pegg to ace that one. 

Dancing With Himself

Or so sang (sort of) Mr. Billy Idol back in 1980. A friend of mine who had a thing for punk music turned our little gang onto the song Dancing With Myself, which was first performed by the band Gen X, and then turned into a meg-hit when vocalist Billy Idol left the band and re-recorded the song. We dug it.

A year later, Idol's song White Wedding was all the rage. The imaginative music videos that accompanied Idol's early songs really helped kick his career into overdrive, and the White Wedding video was no exception. There was such a successful marriage of edginess and commercial appeal that just about everyone loved the music.... not just the punkers. I mean, I was never much into the punk genre (just a few Sex Pistols songs were of interest), and yet I became a huge Idol fan... especially once his album Rebel Yell hit the streets in '83.

Old punks fly coach

Yeah, Rebel Yell! Though that album certainly wasn't as heavy as the Iron Maiden and Scorpions I was also listening to at the time, there was no doubt in my mind that ace guitar-slinger Steve Stevens was someone to watch. His playing was out of this world - flashy and exciting and sonically stunning! I was positively hooked on that album for ages.... so many catchy, fun, rockin' songs. There were the obvious hits, but - and I'm just going by memory here - my personal favourites were Daytime Drama, (Do Not) Stand in the Shadows, and The Dead Next Door. But every single song on there was primo quality... absolutely not a weak track in the whole set. This is a classic 80's album, too, totally defining the decade. 

Though I loved Rebel Yell so much, Idol managed to throw me off with his next couple of albums, and I rapidly lost interest in him. The live album Vital Idol, with monster hit Mony Mony, didn't get my attention....that song was the first chink in the armor, as far as I was concerned. Idol was becoming more bling than studs. Next up... Whiplash Smile, which sat on my shelf un-played for too long...  then I got rid of it; just not worth the time and effort. The songwriting wasn't really there any more, at least not the sort I wanted. The sound was all wrong... the heavy edge was gone, the string of strong hits was gone. No longer punk, and barely even rock, that bloke was getting soft. 

For that few years of the early to mid-80's, though, Billy Idol rocked house-parties endlessly. Rebel Yell was in constant rotation on my home stereo and my Walkman during the rest of the 80's, even though I ignored Idol's later releases. I even replaced the old cassette tape with a CD, but even that began to gather dust, and Idol was finally relegated to my past, merely a chapter in my life of musical interests. 

Freda Paid the Bill

Even though I've upgraded to the Criterion

Collection's superb Blu-ray edition of  A Hard

Day's Night, I have hung onto my old VHS copy

I was unsure as I considered watching a 2013 documentary film called Good O' Freda the other day. I was hesitant because so many Beatle docs nowadays show us info that we fans have known for ages. From what I could gather, the movie was about Freda, the teen girl (at the time) who took the helm of the Beatles Official Fan Club... back before the band even made it big. Apparently Freda had kept most of the details of her adventures with the Fab Four very quiet ever since the 60's concluded, and this doc was her way of finally bringing a lot of amazing stories to light. 

More old technology... my Something New

cassette tape, which included the boys singing

I Want to Hold Your Hand in German!

But as it turned out, Freda was a delight, stirring up a whole lot of wistful nostalgia.... not for the 60's, since I was in diapers back then, but for my formative years as a Beatle fan, which began in the sort of mid-70's. Freda herself became misty-eyed at times as she told how she got to know the most famous rock group of all time. She not only manned the fan club but also became the band's secretary - that was her day job, while the fan club work was on her own time - at night. She spent the 1960's and a bit of the 70's at her desk, in the employ of the Beatles... though she got to step out on occasion, joining in some of the events surrounding the band's rise to greatness. 

What a fun and revealing movie! From the interviews, film footage, photos and other visuals to the music of the mop tops, this was a very special treat indeed. Beatles fans, serious and casual, will love this, and I'm sure everyone else will enjoy this lighthearted and fascinating documentary. 

My VHS copy of Yellow Submarine, which

is still in extremely good condition. But

it'll remain in storage now that I've got

the DVD on my shelf.