Robert Englund & Mark Hamill
Apr 24, 2020 18:04:40 GMT
politicidal, spiderwort, and 3 more like this
Post by petrolino on Apr 24, 2020 18:04:40 GMT
Robert Englund {Bedlamite} : The Life And Times Of A Sunkissed Gemini
Robert Barton Englund was born on June 6, 1947 in Glendale, Los Angeles County, California, in the United States of America. His father, John Kent Englund, was an aeronautics engineer, and his mother, Janis Englund (née MacDonald), was involved in local politics. He is of Scottish and Swedish ancestry. He is an actor and director.
"Well, I'm just a Southern California boy. My dad worked as an executive at Lockheed Aircraft, and worked on the U-2 and things like that. My mother was a homemaker, and she was vice-president of the Democratic council of California back in the '50s. She was very active in Democratic politics with Adlai Stevenson, and the gentleman who just passed on – Alan Cranston. I was just your sort of basic, happy-go-lucky, '50s little kid. At some point, one of my mother's closest friends had a beautiful daughter that was older than me, and I think about at that moment in time, my hormones were starting to arrive in all of their adolescent sort of lockstep. I remember having this girl as my chaperone or something like that, that summer. She was in a theater group, professional children's theater, and I tagged along. I wound up getting all the leading roles – the caliber of Peter in Peter Pan, Pinocchio in Pinocchio... things of that nature, and I literally was just completely successful and bitten by the acting bug.
It just clicked. I don't know, I have various memories – I have memories of professional adults, people that worked in radio and in television coming up to me, a lot of them were from UCLA, and sort of taking me aside. I was more interested in the girls and the rock & roll and the fun of it all, but I remember their really taking the time as adults and professionals to say special things to me. Then I remember Steve Allen came backstage. Daughters of friends of his were very formidable in this children's theater, and he came backstage and he took me aside – I couldn't have been a day over 12 – and he said some nice things to me. I remember taking a curtain call in Pinocchio, on the back of two older actors – who must have been all of 16, but they had already done a lot – and I was on their shoulders for the curtain call. I remember them teasing me – but I knew them to be like the stars of the theater, and they were teasing me about all the applause I was getting.
I think it was shortly thereafter in junior high school, I was sitting in an algebra or geometry class and the doors were open. It either had just rained or the sprinklers had been on out in the girl's gym field, and they were doing archery – they were shooting at hay bales with bows and arrows. I was gazing out at them in their gym outfits, you know, kind of sexy – short shorts and everything. I remember the smell of the wet hay – of the hay bales that the targets were on – coming in the back door of the math class, and it smelled just like scenery. It was the smell that I had learned the summer before – that backstage smell of scenery in casing paints, and flats all leaned up. I remember just knowing at that moment how much I missed the summer – the summer of hormones, and actresses, and make-up, and costumes, and getting the laugh in the same place every night. I think I can look back and remember making my mind up right then – that was what I was going to do the rest of my life. And I did. I began taking and exhausting every drama class available until I was eventually, by the time I was in high school, actually teaching drama classes, as well as attending them.
That happened, I went to college at Cal-State Northridge and UCLA, and then I auditioned for the Royal Academy and was accepted. Wound up – when I couldn't stay in London for the draft – outside of Detroit, Michigan, at the Academy of Dramatic Art, which was a branch of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in America. The entire faculty from London had transferred over to the States. I was able not only to finish my training there, under scholarship, but I also worked professionally at night with the company of English actors – and some American actors at that time – at the Meadow Brook Theater, which is still one of the longest running regional theaters in America."
It just clicked. I don't know, I have various memories – I have memories of professional adults, people that worked in radio and in television coming up to me, a lot of them were from UCLA, and sort of taking me aside. I was more interested in the girls and the rock & roll and the fun of it all, but I remember their really taking the time as adults and professionals to say special things to me. Then I remember Steve Allen came backstage. Daughters of friends of his were very formidable in this children's theater, and he came backstage and he took me aside – I couldn't have been a day over 12 – and he said some nice things to me. I remember taking a curtain call in Pinocchio, on the back of two older actors – who must have been all of 16, but they had already done a lot – and I was on their shoulders for the curtain call. I remember them teasing me – but I knew them to be like the stars of the theater, and they were teasing me about all the applause I was getting.
I think it was shortly thereafter in junior high school, I was sitting in an algebra or geometry class and the doors were open. It either had just rained or the sprinklers had been on out in the girl's gym field, and they were doing archery – they were shooting at hay bales with bows and arrows. I was gazing out at them in their gym outfits, you know, kind of sexy – short shorts and everything. I remember the smell of the wet hay – of the hay bales that the targets were on – coming in the back door of the math class, and it smelled just like scenery. It was the smell that I had learned the summer before – that backstage smell of scenery in casing paints, and flats all leaned up. I remember just knowing at that moment how much I missed the summer – the summer of hormones, and actresses, and make-up, and costumes, and getting the laugh in the same place every night. I think I can look back and remember making my mind up right then – that was what I was going to do the rest of my life. And I did. I began taking and exhausting every drama class available until I was eventually, by the time I was in high school, actually teaching drama classes, as well as attending them.
That happened, I went to college at Cal-State Northridge and UCLA, and then I auditioned for the Royal Academy and was accepted. Wound up – when I couldn't stay in London for the draft – outside of Detroit, Michigan, at the Academy of Dramatic Art, which was a branch of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in America. The entire faculty from London had transferred over to the States. I was able not only to finish my training there, under scholarship, but I also worked professionally at night with the company of English actors – and some American actors at that time – at the Meadow Brook Theater, which is still one of the longest running regional theaters in America."
- Robert Englund, IGN
Robert Englund
Robert Englund speaks from quarantine
Englund is a Gemini which is important; astrologer and starfinder Vincent Price could have told you the significance of this, both as a sign that produces flamboyant performers, and as one of the leading Air signs for horror performers alongside Aquarius and Libra. Englund shares his birthday with tragedian playwright Pierre Corneille, gothic horror novelist Virginia Andrews, soul baritone Levi Stubbs, electronica pioneer Edgar Froese and minimalist filmmaker Chantal Akerman. Underground performer, figure model, tattoo artist and multi-instrumentalist Cheryl 'Rainbeaux' Smith was also born on June 6, in 1955, in Los Angeles, California.
Excerpt from an interview with Robert Englund at IGN Film Forum :
ROBERT ENGLUND - I went to college at Cal-State Northridge and UCLA, and then I auditioned for the Royal Academy and was accepted. Wound up – when I couldn't stay in London for the draft – outside of Detroit, Michigan, at the Academy of Dramatic Art, which was a branch of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in America. The entire faculty from London had transferred over to the States. I was able not only to finish my training there, under scholarship, but I also worked professionally at night with the company of English actors – and some American actors at that time – at the Meadow Brook Theater, which is still one of the longest running regional theaters in America.
IGNFF - Definitely the next best thing to finishing in England...
ROBERT ENGLUND - Yeah, well, what happened was that I wouldn't have been able to stay [in England], because it was a professional school. Although I was 1 of 11 in a class of 15 – they didn't fill the class all the way – out of 900 that auditioned, it was a professional school and you couldn't get out of the draft, in those days.
IGNFF - Unless what, it was an academic school?
ROBERT ENGLUND - Yeah, a professional school, like Julliard – there was no academics, it was just solid acting training. Although, now that I look back on it, and I realize reading Chekhov, and reading Ibsen, and reading George Bernard Shaw, and reading Shakespeare and memorizing it and discussing the history of England and the Plantagenet when you were doing Henry V – or something like that – was probably better than, certainly, a lot of the state college education that was around at that time. Then when I came back, I was able to finish up at Oakland University, which was sort of the Harvard of the Midwest at that time. I sort of was surrounded by a University environment when I finished my professional training in the states.
IGNFF - This would have been what, around '70, '71?
ROBERT ENGLUND - No, This was '68 through '70 – and then, sort of overlapping, I began working in regional theaters. I was already working at Great Lakes Shakespeare – that's where Tom Hanks was from – I was already working there by 1970. Because I was working there in my summers, I got in the first regional theater production of Godspell, as Judas. It sort of took off from there. We were turning away 200-300 people a night at the theater, and I had nun groupies camped out in front of my apartment. That was sort of the beginning of recognition and everything.
IGNFF - Groupies camped out for Judas...
ROBERT ENGLUND - I know, it was bizarre! I had done some press interview, and I said I liked Michelob beer, and these little nuns from the novitiate had left me six packs of Michelob, and were camped out. I guess the play for them was so personal – this was right around the first sort of Jesus freak phenomenon, and this was in the Midwest, too. So, between Jesus Christ Superstar, and Godspell, and sort of born again teenage momentum that was going – I think it was on the cover of Time Magazine and everything – there were just sort of a lot of teenagers and hippies that really gravitated towards this rock musical. I was sort of blindsided by it, because Judas was sort of sexy, and dangerous, and outlaw – he didn't have to be as goody-goody as the other characters – so I attracted sort of double the attention. Plus, it was really fun to act with a constant rock band orchestrating your every move on stage, which was fun. It was real liberating.
IGNFF - Was there anybody else of note in the cast with you at the time?
ROBERT ENGLUND - Well, they all work all the time. I don't know if you just recently saw this thing on television about the big HBO special with James Garner, about the manipulation of the debates? Bruce Gray was my Jesus, and he plays the Senator. Bruce Gray, you've seen him all the time, he works all the time. But Bruce Gray was my Jesus. We were also doing at the same time – I was his Grumio, and he was my Petruchio in Taming of the Shrew. And we were also doing Hello, Dolly at the same time – he was Cornelius and I was Barnaby. So we were doing three different shows, and driving from Detroit to Cleveland and rehearsing and starring together. We became really good friends.
IGNFF - So you were a team.
ROBERT ENGLUND - We were a team for a while, yeah. It was just a coincidence, and we were good friends. But I look back on that now, and it seems remarkable to me that we were doing those three major, completely different roles – but we side-kicked in three major productions in a row.
IGNFF - What was theater like at the time?
ROBERT ENGLUND - Well, it was great. You have to understand, we were using a lot of the actors from Stratford, Ontario – there was a sort of mutual admiration society and cooperation between Canadian equity and American equity in those days. We were getting people down from Canada, and it was like Who's Who. This guy, Kenneth Welsh, he's in everything, he did Frankie and Johnny, and the Claire de Lune with Kathy Bates out here, but you see him all the time. Maggie Smith was there, Brian Bedford – you know, really major actors. I learned a lot. For instance, they did a production of The Boy Friend, the old Julie Andrews musical spoof of the 1920's, but we had like the original Broadway English cast, only they were older now, so they were all playing the old parts. So all of the kids that had been in the original production playing the younger parts, we had at our theater playing 20 years older. These were people that like hung out with Bob Fosse.
So I was getting all of that filter down, trickle down kind of stuff. And the faculty in Michigan, from London at the Royal Academy, they were the people that taught Alan Bates, Tom Courtenay, Albert Finney, Peter O'Toole – so we've got all of that gossip. Even though I loved Brando and Montgomery Cliff and Steve McQueen and everybody – we got turned on to that sort of English new wave ahead of time. We were a little hipper, we knew all about Tom Courtenay and Bates, and all those guys when they were very, very young, because we had the same teachers. Those guys were setting the world afire in London, but they hadn't become hugely established in the States ... it was kind of a heady time, kind of a fun time ...
I had a theater in L.A. shortly after that, too, and I had a theater in L.A. before that, in Laurel Canyon, with some other very talented people from UCLA and people that went on to make it big. One of the big newscasters here auditioned for us, and Richard Dreyfuss and people like that, but it was really hard to get people to write about you in those days. Now, a teen movie can come out with kids that – unless you watch a remote cable station – you wouldn't even know who they were. The movie can go right into the toilet, but for a week they're on David Letterman, they're on Johnny Carson, they're on Jay Leno, they're on Conan O'Brien, they're on Dennis Miller, they're on Entertainment Tonight – because you need that product, you need that fodder to support them. Back in those days, it was really hard to get somebody to come down and see you, so when we would get a review from Variety, or The Hollywood Reporter, or The L.A. Times, it was like pulling teeth, but it was like this huge, huge thing. I can remember working in Cleveland and Atlanta and stuff, and the unknown actors were people like Michael Moriarty who went on to do, obviously, Law and Order and other things. But it was a fun time. It was an interesting time.
The other thing was, you could live well. You could live well in Chicago or something, because the cost of living was so cheap. You'd make your little union scale, but it was enough to live decently, which was nice. It's much harder today – there's a bigger leap for the kids today starting out.
IGNFF - How would you compare the attitudes in the actual acting community then as opposed to now?
ROBERT ENGLUND - I was in regional theater, and I was in a theater with a LOT of English actors. The English actors that I worked with were like Who's Who. I worked with Paul Lee, who was Rosemary Harris' leading man over in London for years, and he was, like, my tutor. I wondered why these guys were here, but they were there because they had refrigerators and new Ford cars, and they lived on the beautiful Mathilda Dodge Wilson Estate outside of Birmingham, Michigan. So, that's why they were there – because they had been living in little apartments in London, and it was this big adventure for them. But I was working with these extraordinary people, and the craft, and the respect, and their knowledge of the classics – there wasn't a lot of avant garde then, although we did do some experimental productions by Franz Kafka and people like that ...
There was some serious playwriting going on then ... but the performance art thing hadn't hit yet. There were happenings going on in London with Jim Dine and some of the painters and stuff, but there wasn't this huge avant garde movement in the theater that there is now. We were doing pretty shoot from the hip classics. We did a Vietnam Julius Caesar, I remember that, and I think we did a Much Ado About Nothing set in old California – but that was about as extreme as it got. On the other hand, you see avant-garde Shakespeare today and they'll stand characters that loathe each other, absolutely hate each other – that are from warring families historically – next to each other for the sake of composition or something. We learned all of the gossip and the history of England, just like you learn it of America so that you wouldn't stand Billy the Kid next to Pat Garrett – in Shakespearean equivalent on stage – just because it looked pretty, which I see a lot of today. We knew all of the intrigue and the gossip, and the Machiavellian inter-relationships of all the characters, so you could really act that stuff and play it. There's a sort of an American misconception that Shakespeare in England is a bunch of people standing around in blue tights with one leg up higher than the other on a pair of stairs, but I – having spent a lot of time over there – know it's the most unbelievably outrageous, rock and roll stuff you've ever seen ... Just brilliant stuff ...
IGNFF - Definitely the next best thing to finishing in England...
ROBERT ENGLUND - Yeah, well, what happened was that I wouldn't have been able to stay [in England], because it was a professional school. Although I was 1 of 11 in a class of 15 – they didn't fill the class all the way – out of 900 that auditioned, it was a professional school and you couldn't get out of the draft, in those days.
IGNFF - Unless what, it was an academic school?
ROBERT ENGLUND - Yeah, a professional school, like Julliard – there was no academics, it was just solid acting training. Although, now that I look back on it, and I realize reading Chekhov, and reading Ibsen, and reading George Bernard Shaw, and reading Shakespeare and memorizing it and discussing the history of England and the Plantagenet when you were doing Henry V – or something like that – was probably better than, certainly, a lot of the state college education that was around at that time. Then when I came back, I was able to finish up at Oakland University, which was sort of the Harvard of the Midwest at that time. I sort of was surrounded by a University environment when I finished my professional training in the states.
IGNFF - This would have been what, around '70, '71?
ROBERT ENGLUND - No, This was '68 through '70 – and then, sort of overlapping, I began working in regional theaters. I was already working at Great Lakes Shakespeare – that's where Tom Hanks was from – I was already working there by 1970. Because I was working there in my summers, I got in the first regional theater production of Godspell, as Judas. It sort of took off from there. We were turning away 200-300 people a night at the theater, and I had nun groupies camped out in front of my apartment. That was sort of the beginning of recognition and everything.
IGNFF - Groupies camped out for Judas...
ROBERT ENGLUND - I know, it was bizarre! I had done some press interview, and I said I liked Michelob beer, and these little nuns from the novitiate had left me six packs of Michelob, and were camped out. I guess the play for them was so personal – this was right around the first sort of Jesus freak phenomenon, and this was in the Midwest, too. So, between Jesus Christ Superstar, and Godspell, and sort of born again teenage momentum that was going – I think it was on the cover of Time Magazine and everything – there were just sort of a lot of teenagers and hippies that really gravitated towards this rock musical. I was sort of blindsided by it, because Judas was sort of sexy, and dangerous, and outlaw – he didn't have to be as goody-goody as the other characters – so I attracted sort of double the attention. Plus, it was really fun to act with a constant rock band orchestrating your every move on stage, which was fun. It was real liberating.
IGNFF - Was there anybody else of note in the cast with you at the time?
ROBERT ENGLUND - Well, they all work all the time. I don't know if you just recently saw this thing on television about the big HBO special with James Garner, about the manipulation of the debates? Bruce Gray was my Jesus, and he plays the Senator. Bruce Gray, you've seen him all the time, he works all the time. But Bruce Gray was my Jesus. We were also doing at the same time – I was his Grumio, and he was my Petruchio in Taming of the Shrew. And we were also doing Hello, Dolly at the same time – he was Cornelius and I was Barnaby. So we were doing three different shows, and driving from Detroit to Cleveland and rehearsing and starring together. We became really good friends.
IGNFF - So you were a team.
ROBERT ENGLUND - We were a team for a while, yeah. It was just a coincidence, and we were good friends. But I look back on that now, and it seems remarkable to me that we were doing those three major, completely different roles – but we side-kicked in three major productions in a row.
IGNFF - What was theater like at the time?
ROBERT ENGLUND - Well, it was great. You have to understand, we were using a lot of the actors from Stratford, Ontario – there was a sort of mutual admiration society and cooperation between Canadian equity and American equity in those days. We were getting people down from Canada, and it was like Who's Who. This guy, Kenneth Welsh, he's in everything, he did Frankie and Johnny, and the Claire de Lune with Kathy Bates out here, but you see him all the time. Maggie Smith was there, Brian Bedford – you know, really major actors. I learned a lot. For instance, they did a production of The Boy Friend, the old Julie Andrews musical spoof of the 1920's, but we had like the original Broadway English cast, only they were older now, so they were all playing the old parts. So all of the kids that had been in the original production playing the younger parts, we had at our theater playing 20 years older. These were people that like hung out with Bob Fosse.
So I was getting all of that filter down, trickle down kind of stuff. And the faculty in Michigan, from London at the Royal Academy, they were the people that taught Alan Bates, Tom Courtenay, Albert Finney, Peter O'Toole – so we've got all of that gossip. Even though I loved Brando and Montgomery Cliff and Steve McQueen and everybody – we got turned on to that sort of English new wave ahead of time. We were a little hipper, we knew all about Tom Courtenay and Bates, and all those guys when they were very, very young, because we had the same teachers. Those guys were setting the world afire in London, but they hadn't become hugely established in the States ... it was kind of a heady time, kind of a fun time ...
I had a theater in L.A. shortly after that, too, and I had a theater in L.A. before that, in Laurel Canyon, with some other very talented people from UCLA and people that went on to make it big. One of the big newscasters here auditioned for us, and Richard Dreyfuss and people like that, but it was really hard to get people to write about you in those days. Now, a teen movie can come out with kids that – unless you watch a remote cable station – you wouldn't even know who they were. The movie can go right into the toilet, but for a week they're on David Letterman, they're on Johnny Carson, they're on Jay Leno, they're on Conan O'Brien, they're on Dennis Miller, they're on Entertainment Tonight – because you need that product, you need that fodder to support them. Back in those days, it was really hard to get somebody to come down and see you, so when we would get a review from Variety, or The Hollywood Reporter, or The L.A. Times, it was like pulling teeth, but it was like this huge, huge thing. I can remember working in Cleveland and Atlanta and stuff, and the unknown actors were people like Michael Moriarty who went on to do, obviously, Law and Order and other things. But it was a fun time. It was an interesting time.
The other thing was, you could live well. You could live well in Chicago or something, because the cost of living was so cheap. You'd make your little union scale, but it was enough to live decently, which was nice. It's much harder today – there's a bigger leap for the kids today starting out.
IGNFF - How would you compare the attitudes in the actual acting community then as opposed to now?
ROBERT ENGLUND - I was in regional theater, and I was in a theater with a LOT of English actors. The English actors that I worked with were like Who's Who. I worked with Paul Lee, who was Rosemary Harris' leading man over in London for years, and he was, like, my tutor. I wondered why these guys were here, but they were there because they had refrigerators and new Ford cars, and they lived on the beautiful Mathilda Dodge Wilson Estate outside of Birmingham, Michigan. So, that's why they were there – because they had been living in little apartments in London, and it was this big adventure for them. But I was working with these extraordinary people, and the craft, and the respect, and their knowledge of the classics – there wasn't a lot of avant garde then, although we did do some experimental productions by Franz Kafka and people like that ...
There was some serious playwriting going on then ... but the performance art thing hadn't hit yet. There were happenings going on in London with Jim Dine and some of the painters and stuff, but there wasn't this huge avant garde movement in the theater that there is now. We were doing pretty shoot from the hip classics. We did a Vietnam Julius Caesar, I remember that, and I think we did a Much Ado About Nothing set in old California – but that was about as extreme as it got. On the other hand, you see avant-garde Shakespeare today and they'll stand characters that loathe each other, absolutely hate each other – that are from warring families historically – next to each other for the sake of composition or something. We learned all of the gossip and the history of England, just like you learn it of America so that you wouldn't stand Billy the Kid next to Pat Garrett – in Shakespearean equivalent on stage – just because it looked pretty, which I see a lot of today. We knew all of the intrigue and the gossip, and the Machiavellian inter-relationships of all the characters, so you could really act that stuff and play it. There's a sort of an American misconception that Shakespeare in England is a bunch of people standing around in blue tights with one leg up higher than the other on a pair of stairs, but I – having spent a lot of time over there – know it's the most unbelievably outrageous, rock and roll stuff you've ever seen ... Just brilliant stuff ...
Robert Englund's horror film debut, James Polakof's 'Slashed Dreams' (1975 - aka. Sunburst)
Heather Langenkamp & Robert Englund
Robert Englund & David B. Miller
A look behind the scenes with Wes Craven & Robert Englund
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Robert Englund : The Actor's Nightmare
Robert Englund & Jan-Michael Vincent in 'Buster & Billie' (1974)
Robert Englund & Burt Reynolds in 'Hustle' (1975)
Robert Englund, Charles Bronson, Jeff Goldblum & Mark Thomas in 'St. Ives' (1976)
Robert Englund & Arnold Schwarzenegger in 'Stay Hungry' (1976)
Jan-Michael Vincent & Robert Englund in 'Big Wednesday' (1978)
Joseph G. Medalis, Michael Pataki, Lisa Blount, Robert Englund & Linda Turley in 'Dead & Buried' (1981)
Jill Schoelen & Robert Englund in 'The Phantom Of The Opera' (1989)
Robert Englund & Tracy Middendorf in 'New Nightmare' (1994)
Robert Englund takes down the Knight Rider
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Robert Englund is currently hosting the television series 'Shadows Of History' (2020 -), which looks into mysterious stories plucked from the American news archives. It's a spin-off from a television series I've not seen called 'True Terror', which I believe was hosted by George Takei.
As a fan of the epic documentary 'Never Sleep Again : The Elm Street Legacy' (2010), I can't wait to see the documentary 'Scream, Queen! My Nightmare On Elm Street' (2019) which aims to shed new light on the second 'Elm Street' entries gay subtext and some of the series' more Freudian aspects. A documentary about Englund is also currently in production, entitled 'Icon : The Robert Englund Story' (scheduled for release in 2020).
Robert Englund & Ray Walston in 'Galaxy Of Terror' (1981)
Though he uses a walking stick to get around nowadays, every time I see him he still appears to be his usual self, smiling, animated and bristling with manic energy. I'm glad about that.
Robert Englund & Julene Renee in 'Dance Macabre' (1992)
Robert Englund in 'Night Terrors' (1993)
Robert Englund in 'The Mangler' (1995)
Robert Englund & Tammy Lauren in 'Wishmaster' (1997)
Rebecca Gayheart & Robert Englund in 'Urban Legend' (1998)
Robert Englund in 'Hatchet' (2006)
Robert Englund & Angela Goethals in 'Behind The Mask : The Rise Of Leslie Vernon' (2006)
Amanda Plummer & Robert Englund in 'Red' (2008)
Step inside Tobe Hooper's 'Night Terrors'
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'Eaten Alive' & 'The Hills Have Eyes'
{ : The Terrifying True Stories Behind Two Of The Defining American Horror Films Of 1977 }
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'Eaten Alive' (1977)
Cast
Neville Brand as Judd
Mel Ferrer as Harvey Wood
Carolyn Jones as Miss Hattie
Marilyn Burns as Faye
William Finley as Roy
Stuart Whitman as Sheriff Martin
Roberta Collins as Clara Wood
Kyle Richards as Angie
Robert Englund as Buck
Crystin Sinclaire as Libby Wood
Janus Blythe as Lynette
Neville Brand as Judd
Mel Ferrer as Harvey Wood
Carolyn Jones as Miss Hattie
Marilyn Burns as Faye
William Finley as Roy
Stuart Whitman as Sheriff Martin
Roberta Collins as Clara Wood
Kyle Richards as Angie
Robert Englund as Buck
Crystin Sinclaire as Libby Wood
Janus Blythe as Lynette
"Nearly a decade before he donned Freddy Kruger's famous red and green sweater, horror icon Robert Englund delivered a supremely sleazy performance in 'Eaten Alive' - another essay in taut Southern terror from Tobe Hooper, director of 'The Texas Chain Saw Massacre'. Deep in the Louisiana bayou sits the ramshackle Starlight Hotel, destination of choice for those who like to check in but not check out! Presided over by the bumbling, mumbling Judd (and his pet croc which he keeps in a large pond out front), the patron of this particular establishment may seem like a good-natured ol' Southern gent - but he has a mean temper on him, and a mighty large scythe to boot.
Oozing atmosphere from its every pore (the entire film was shot on a sound-stage at the famous Raleigh Studios, which lends it a queasy, claustrophobic feel) 'Eaten Alive' matches 'The Texas Chain Saw Massacre' for sheer insanity - and even drafts in Chain Saw star Marilyn Burns as the terrorised woman-in-peril, alongside William Finley and Mel Ferrer."
- Gary Tooze, DVD Beaver
"There are moments when 'Eaten Alive' (1977) really comes into its own: where you get glimpses of Hooper’s unpredictable (perhaps even accidental) brilliance. Brand, for example, is particularly compelling as the muttering, sometimes almost unintelligible, but addictively watchable Judd. The film has blood and sex, lashings of dark humour, a fantastically atmospheric soundtrack, and, most importantly, a great big (surprisingly convincing) crocodile. For these factors alone, it’s more than worth watching.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about 'Eaten Alive', however, is its claim to have been based on a true story: that of bar-owner Joe Ball, who lived in the small Texan town of Elemendorf in the Thirties, and kept a menagerie of five alligators in his backyard. Ball was later found to have murdered two women, but was rumoured to have killed many more. The legend spread, and before long, he was remembered as the Alligator Killer: a man who slaughtered women, and disposed of their bodies by feeding them to his pets.
In 2002, the journalist Michael Hall decided to look deeper into the story behind the legend. Travelling to Elmendorf (an experience he recounted in an article for Texas Monthly), he sought to separate the man from the myth, and find out more about the real Joe Ball. The son of a well-off Elmendorf family, Ball was born in the late 19th century, and fought in the First World War, before he began making money as a bootlegger during the prohibition era. After alcohol became legal, he continued to use it as his main source of income, opening an establishment known as the “Sociable Inn” in his hometown. According to some reports, the alligators, which Ball kept in an enclosure adjacent to the saloon, were a big attraction: on particularly raucous nights, the bar-owner was said to entertain guests by feeding live cats, dogs, and other unfortunate stray animals to the reptiles.
Ball also employed a succession of women to wait tables, serve at the bar and entertain guests, and ended up entering into relationships with a number of them. Several of these women later disappeared, including waitress Minnie Gotthardt (known as Big Minnie) in 1937. Shortly after Gotthardt’s disappearance, Ball married another of his employees, Dolores “Buddy” Goodwin, who later had her arm amputated in a car accident. Goodwin disappeared in 1938; a few months later, another of Ball’s women, 22-year-old Hazel Brown, also went missing."
- Rebecca Hawkes, 'Eaten Alive : The Bizarre True Story Behind Tobe Hooper's Alligator Horror Movie'
"We all have certain movies we love. Movies we respect without question because of either tradition, childhood love, or because they’ve always been classics. However, as time keeps ticking, do those classics still hold up? Do they remain must see? So…the point of this column is to determine how a film holds up for a modern horror audience, to see if it stands the Test of Time.
With two consecutive Black Sheep articles and now a Test of Time piece on the man’s films, it seems I’m either more despondent than most over the untimely silence of authorial horror voice Tobe Hooper, or simply more ready to fete his still unheralded career. Not that I’m weepy over here or anything, it’s just that I really do love those first five films the man made from 1973-1982. And while one may positively or negatively label Hooper the Orson Welles of horror films by virtue that he’d never quite replicate the grandness of his first foray into filmmaking (I do not count 'Eggshells') as he did with 'The Texas Chain Saw Massacre' (yes, the CITIZEN KANE of horror films), anyone who knows much about Hooper’s career understands full well what a dirty, deliriously dizzying, delectable dish his sophomore horror joint is, was and will likely forever be.
That’s right y’all, 'Eaten Alive' marked the 40th anniversary of its release in the U.S. this past May, and frankly, there’s no better occasion to revisit the flick and see how it’s aged over the past four decades. They say love fades, but I have a sneaking suspicion no love will be lost when putting 'Eaten Alive' up against the Test of Time. You down? Let’s get it!"
- Jake Dee reporting in 2017, Arrow In The Head
Oozing atmosphere from its every pore (the entire film was shot on a sound-stage at the famous Raleigh Studios, which lends it a queasy, claustrophobic feel) 'Eaten Alive' matches 'The Texas Chain Saw Massacre' for sheer insanity - and even drafts in Chain Saw star Marilyn Burns as the terrorised woman-in-peril, alongside William Finley and Mel Ferrer."
- Gary Tooze, DVD Beaver
"There are moments when 'Eaten Alive' (1977) really comes into its own: where you get glimpses of Hooper’s unpredictable (perhaps even accidental) brilliance. Brand, for example, is particularly compelling as the muttering, sometimes almost unintelligible, but addictively watchable Judd. The film has blood and sex, lashings of dark humour, a fantastically atmospheric soundtrack, and, most importantly, a great big (surprisingly convincing) crocodile. For these factors alone, it’s more than worth watching.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about 'Eaten Alive', however, is its claim to have been based on a true story: that of bar-owner Joe Ball, who lived in the small Texan town of Elemendorf in the Thirties, and kept a menagerie of five alligators in his backyard. Ball was later found to have murdered two women, but was rumoured to have killed many more. The legend spread, and before long, he was remembered as the Alligator Killer: a man who slaughtered women, and disposed of their bodies by feeding them to his pets.
In 2002, the journalist Michael Hall decided to look deeper into the story behind the legend. Travelling to Elmendorf (an experience he recounted in an article for Texas Monthly), he sought to separate the man from the myth, and find out more about the real Joe Ball. The son of a well-off Elmendorf family, Ball was born in the late 19th century, and fought in the First World War, before he began making money as a bootlegger during the prohibition era. After alcohol became legal, he continued to use it as his main source of income, opening an establishment known as the “Sociable Inn” in his hometown. According to some reports, the alligators, which Ball kept in an enclosure adjacent to the saloon, were a big attraction: on particularly raucous nights, the bar-owner was said to entertain guests by feeding live cats, dogs, and other unfortunate stray animals to the reptiles.
Ball also employed a succession of women to wait tables, serve at the bar and entertain guests, and ended up entering into relationships with a number of them. Several of these women later disappeared, including waitress Minnie Gotthardt (known as Big Minnie) in 1937. Shortly after Gotthardt’s disappearance, Ball married another of his employees, Dolores “Buddy” Goodwin, who later had her arm amputated in a car accident. Goodwin disappeared in 1938; a few months later, another of Ball’s women, 22-year-old Hazel Brown, also went missing."
- Rebecca Hawkes, 'Eaten Alive : The Bizarre True Story Behind Tobe Hooper's Alligator Horror Movie'
"We all have certain movies we love. Movies we respect without question because of either tradition, childhood love, or because they’ve always been classics. However, as time keeps ticking, do those classics still hold up? Do they remain must see? So…the point of this column is to determine how a film holds up for a modern horror audience, to see if it stands the Test of Time.
With two consecutive Black Sheep articles and now a Test of Time piece on the man’s films, it seems I’m either more despondent than most over the untimely silence of authorial horror voice Tobe Hooper, or simply more ready to fete his still unheralded career. Not that I’m weepy over here or anything, it’s just that I really do love those first five films the man made from 1973-1982. And while one may positively or negatively label Hooper the Orson Welles of horror films by virtue that he’d never quite replicate the grandness of his first foray into filmmaking (I do not count 'Eggshells') as he did with 'The Texas Chain Saw Massacre' (yes, the CITIZEN KANE of horror films), anyone who knows much about Hooper’s career understands full well what a dirty, deliriously dizzying, delectable dish his sophomore horror joint is, was and will likely forever be.
That’s right y’all, 'Eaten Alive' marked the 40th anniversary of its release in the U.S. this past May, and frankly, there’s no better occasion to revisit the flick and see how it’s aged over the past four decades. They say love fades, but I have a sneaking suspicion no love will be lost when putting 'Eaten Alive' up against the Test of Time. You down? Let’s get it!"
- Jake Dee reporting in 2017, Arrow In The Head
Tobe Hooper directing Neville Brand on the set of 'Eaten Alive'
Janus Blythe in 'Eaten Alive'
Robert Englund & Roberta Collins in 'Eaten Alive'
Robert Englund recalls his introduction to Tobe Hooper (they made 'Eaten Alive', 'Night Terrors' & 'The Mangler' together)
--- ---
'The Hills Have Eyes' (1977)
Cast
Susan Lanier as Brenda Carter
Dee Wallace as Lynne Wood
John Steadman as Fred
Robert Houston as Bobby Carter
Martin Speer as Doug Wood
Russ Grieve as Big Bob Carter
James Whitworth as Papa Jupiter
Virginia Vincent as Ethel Carter
Michael Berryman as Pluto
Lance Gordon as Mars
Janus Blythe as Ruby
Cordy Clark as Mama
Peter Locke as Mercury
Brenda Marinoff as Baby Katy Wood
Susan Lanier as Brenda Carter
Dee Wallace as Lynne Wood
John Steadman as Fred
Robert Houston as Bobby Carter
Martin Speer as Doug Wood
Russ Grieve as Big Bob Carter
James Whitworth as Papa Jupiter
Virginia Vincent as Ethel Carter
Michael Berryman as Pluto
Lance Gordon as Mars
Janus Blythe as Ruby
Cordy Clark as Mama
Peter Locke as Mercury
Brenda Marinoff as Baby Katy Wood
"Wes Craven's 1977 feature, 'The Hills Have Eyes' is a dedicated re-working of the siege film, a genre in which a group of characters are isolated in a remote location and attacked from all corners by enemies. In horror, the "siege" has been vetted well by George Romero in 'Night of the Living Dead' (1968) and by John Carpenter in 'Assault on Precinct 13' (1976).
Many critics have suggest that 'The Hills Have Eyes' boasts roots going further back in film history even than those notable examples, in Westerns such as 'The Alamo'. Not surprisingly, then, the Craven film can easily be fit into the Western film mold with a few contemporary modifications. To wit, a group of pioneers (here vacationers...) head west in a wagon train (here a recreational vehicle; a trailer), only to be savagely assaulted by a group of primitives (not American Indians as in the cowboy tradition, but in-bred cannibals). However, to gaze upon 'The Hills Have Eye's as merely another entry in the siege genre does this horror a disservice. Wes Craven is famous for imbuing his films with sub-text and social commentary, and this film is no exception.
The heart of 'The Hills Have Eyes' is actually the duel between two families, one from "civilization" and one from the wild. The battle for supremacy takes place not on neutral territory, however, but in the home court of the savage clan, in this case, the barren, rocky landscape of the Yucca Desert. The landscape plays a critical role in the film and Craven defines a chaotic terrain of danger that is as much nemesis to the Carter family as is Jupiter's killer clan.
The Carters stumble upon a vast world of inhospitable hills and rock. It is a world where their enemies can come and go as they please and yet remain hidden, because of their camouflage. The Carters bear no such protection, and the hard right angles of their trailer stand out like a beacon against the random outcroppings of the terrain. The Carters are just they (aptly) describe themselves in the film's finale: sitting ducks.
The desert turns even more dangerous by night. The darkness provides a natural shroud, - yet another brand of camouflage - for the activities of the marauding cannibals. Again, the Carters are out of their element. Even in the darkness of night, they constantly have a campfire burning outside their trailer, and all the lights on inside of it. They possess the only illumination in the entire desert, and it too serves as a sort of beacon, drawing their opponents ever closer like moths to the flame.
Because they are the products of contemporary urban life, the Carters are instantly uncomfortable once trapped in Craven's forbidding landscape. Brenda repeatedly asserts that dwelling outside gives her "the creeps." The others naively insist clean air is "good" for them, but they do not respect the land. Instead of adapting to their new surroundings, they attempt to tame it and control the land. Almost immediately, they set up a dinner table outside the trailer and begin to picnic. It is a ridiculous scene as the Carters routinely fold their napkins and set out their silverware in orderly fashion amidst a vast wasteland. From this scene alone, it is clear that they are truly out of touch with their location and have no notion of the dangers it boasts, or how to cope with them. This is the first blow against them in their deadly war with Papa Jupiter."
- John Kenneth Muir, Reflections On Cult Movies & Classic TV
"In 1977 Wes Craven first introduced us to Papa Jupiter’s family. 'The Hills Have Eyes' is a classic horror tale of a family trapped in the Nevada desert and terrorized by a family of inbred mutants living in mountains. The film was then remade in 2006 with the inbreed mutants having been exposed to radiation via government testing. Craven’s original nightmarish family outing and the remake both still terrify audiences today, and the story was actually inspired by the legendary story of Alexander “Sawney” Bean.
As this 15th century legend goes, Sawney, the son of a landscaper, had no desire to follow in his father’s footsteps. Instead he took his wife and headed for a coastal cave in Bennane Head, Scotland. There he would live and raise his family of eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters, most of which were the product of incest.
Sleeping the days away in their cave, the Bean clan would come out at night to apply their trade. Under the cover of darkness, the Bean’s would ambush travelers robbing and then murdering them. The bodies were then taken back to the cave where they were dismembered and prepared for dinner. For twenty-five years, the family operated in secret. Although nearby villagers were aware of the disappearances, as well as the occasional body-parts which washed up on their shores, they were unaware of who was responsible for the crimes."
- David Ian McKendry, 'The Hills Have Eyes Is Based On A Real Story : The Sawney Bean Cave Clan'
"In the late 1970s, Wes Craven was a struggling filmmaker known for only one thing: a little horror flick called 'The Last House on the Left' (1972). Though he was itching to branch out and make other kinds of movies, he could only find financing for horror films, so he agreed to make a movie about a group of hill people savaging a vacationing family. Though he may not have been in a hurry to admit it, Craven found that he was really good at scaring people. Produced on a tight budget, under sometimes grueling conditions, 'The Hills Have Eyes' cemented Craven as one of Hollywood’s great horror masters. The film was released 40 years ago today, and it’s just as brutal as ever."
- Matthew Jackson reporting in 2017, Mental Floss
Many critics have suggest that 'The Hills Have Eyes' boasts roots going further back in film history even than those notable examples, in Westerns such as 'The Alamo'. Not surprisingly, then, the Craven film can easily be fit into the Western film mold with a few contemporary modifications. To wit, a group of pioneers (here vacationers...) head west in a wagon train (here a recreational vehicle; a trailer), only to be savagely assaulted by a group of primitives (not American Indians as in the cowboy tradition, but in-bred cannibals). However, to gaze upon 'The Hills Have Eye's as merely another entry in the siege genre does this horror a disservice. Wes Craven is famous for imbuing his films with sub-text and social commentary, and this film is no exception.
The heart of 'The Hills Have Eyes' is actually the duel between two families, one from "civilization" and one from the wild. The battle for supremacy takes place not on neutral territory, however, but in the home court of the savage clan, in this case, the barren, rocky landscape of the Yucca Desert. The landscape plays a critical role in the film and Craven defines a chaotic terrain of danger that is as much nemesis to the Carter family as is Jupiter's killer clan.
The Carters stumble upon a vast world of inhospitable hills and rock. It is a world where their enemies can come and go as they please and yet remain hidden, because of their camouflage. The Carters bear no such protection, and the hard right angles of their trailer stand out like a beacon against the random outcroppings of the terrain. The Carters are just they (aptly) describe themselves in the film's finale: sitting ducks.
The desert turns even more dangerous by night. The darkness provides a natural shroud, - yet another brand of camouflage - for the activities of the marauding cannibals. Again, the Carters are out of their element. Even in the darkness of night, they constantly have a campfire burning outside their trailer, and all the lights on inside of it. They possess the only illumination in the entire desert, and it too serves as a sort of beacon, drawing their opponents ever closer like moths to the flame.
Because they are the products of contemporary urban life, the Carters are instantly uncomfortable once trapped in Craven's forbidding landscape. Brenda repeatedly asserts that dwelling outside gives her "the creeps." The others naively insist clean air is "good" for them, but they do not respect the land. Instead of adapting to their new surroundings, they attempt to tame it and control the land. Almost immediately, they set up a dinner table outside the trailer and begin to picnic. It is a ridiculous scene as the Carters routinely fold their napkins and set out their silverware in orderly fashion amidst a vast wasteland. From this scene alone, it is clear that they are truly out of touch with their location and have no notion of the dangers it boasts, or how to cope with them. This is the first blow against them in their deadly war with Papa Jupiter."
- John Kenneth Muir, Reflections On Cult Movies & Classic TV
"In 1977 Wes Craven first introduced us to Papa Jupiter’s family. 'The Hills Have Eyes' is a classic horror tale of a family trapped in the Nevada desert and terrorized by a family of inbred mutants living in mountains. The film was then remade in 2006 with the inbreed mutants having been exposed to radiation via government testing. Craven’s original nightmarish family outing and the remake both still terrify audiences today, and the story was actually inspired by the legendary story of Alexander “Sawney” Bean.
As this 15th century legend goes, Sawney, the son of a landscaper, had no desire to follow in his father’s footsteps. Instead he took his wife and headed for a coastal cave in Bennane Head, Scotland. There he would live and raise his family of eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters, most of which were the product of incest.
Sleeping the days away in their cave, the Bean clan would come out at night to apply their trade. Under the cover of darkness, the Bean’s would ambush travelers robbing and then murdering them. The bodies were then taken back to the cave where they were dismembered and prepared for dinner. For twenty-five years, the family operated in secret. Although nearby villagers were aware of the disappearances, as well as the occasional body-parts which washed up on their shores, they were unaware of who was responsible for the crimes."
- David Ian McKendry, 'The Hills Have Eyes Is Based On A Real Story : The Sawney Bean Cave Clan'
"In the late 1970s, Wes Craven was a struggling filmmaker known for only one thing: a little horror flick called 'The Last House on the Left' (1972). Though he was itching to branch out and make other kinds of movies, he could only find financing for horror films, so he agreed to make a movie about a group of hill people savaging a vacationing family. Though he may not have been in a hurry to admit it, Craven found that he was really good at scaring people. Produced on a tight budget, under sometimes grueling conditions, 'The Hills Have Eyes' cemented Craven as one of Hollywood’s great horror masters. The film was released 40 years ago today, and it’s just as brutal as ever."
- Matthew Jackson reporting in 2017, Mental Floss
Wes Craven directing Virginia Vincent in 'The Hills Have Eyes'
Wes Craven directing Lance Gordon & Janus Blythe in 'The Hills Have Eyes'
Michael Berryman recalls his first meeting with Wes Craven (they made 'The Hills Have Eyes', 'Deadly Blessing' & 'The Hills Have Eyes Part II' together)
