My Tobe Hooper Review Thread

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I forgot the opening line.
Tobe Hooper




Started :
Directed short film The Abyss (1959)

Wrote, directed, produced & edited the short film The Heisters (1964)




Academy Award nominations/wins :

None

INDEX

Down Friday Street - (short film) - (1966)
Eggshells - (1969)
Peter Paul and Mary: The Song is Love - (documentary short) - (1971)
The Texas Chain Saw Massacre - (1974)
Poltergeist - (1982)
__________________
Remember - everything has an ending except hope, and sausages - they have two.
We miss you Takoma

Latest Review : Le Circle Rouge (1970)



I forgot the opening line.
Before starting in on actual reviews, I thought it interesting to post one of Tobe Hooper's early experimental "documentary shorts" which basically went the way of a lot of his early stuff - dialogue free, with the camera telling the story. This 10 minute offering, called Down Friday Street, shows a filmmaker at a very raw, early stage of his development.

DOWN FRIDAY STREET - (1966)




I forgot the opening line.


Poltergeist - 1982

Directed by Tobe Hooper

Written by Steven Spielberg, Michael Grais & Mark Victor

Starring JoBeth Williams, Craig T. Nelson, Dominique Dunne, Oliver Robins
Heather O'Rourke, Beatrice Straight & Zelda Rubinstein

It could never be pinned down to one thing - not just scary ghosts in the darkness, or chairs moving of their own volition, Poltergeist was religious-like awe. It was cataclysmic shocks, with thunder, light and magic. It was, at it's heart, a story about family, and the love the characters have for each other - about the bright suburban landscapes of an America that existed in the 80s. The imaginative process of storytelling was at it's peak for Steven Spielberg - in Poltergeist a child is not only in peril, but disappears from the physical world altogether - her lonely voice on a static-filled television the last vestige of her existence. It was a thrill-ride for most of us back then, but in the years since the film hasn't receded as if the tricks and surprises had nothing to back them up - Poltergeist remains a classic film that's still very enjoyable to watch. The Freelings still have a genuine feel about them, and the neighborhood they live in has a nostalgic aura which survives.

Diane Freeling (JoBeth Williams) and Steve Freeling (Craig T. Nelson) are raising their three children - Dana (Dominique Dunne), Robbie (Oliver Robins) and little Carol Anne (Heather O'Rourke) in Cuesta Verde, a Californian development, of which Steve is a real estate agent, helping to sell lots in adjoining planned communities. Life appears normal - a swimming pool is being constructed, and the kids go to school - until Carol Anne starts becoming fixated on the televisions in the house. Objects, such as chairs, start moving by themselves - but the Freeling's wonder is soon turned to horror when during a storm Robbie is snatched by a tree, and Carol Anne disappears into the ether. The supernatural activity around the house picks up to an alarming degree, so parapsychologist Dr. Martha Lesh (Beatrice Straight) is called in with two of her assistants to investigate - and after experiencing some of these events she calls Tangina (Zelda Rubinstein) to help rescue the Freeling's young daughter from the other side. In the meantime, Steve learns the truth about the land on which his house was built.

Obviously Poltergeist was an effects-driven movie, and that's where two of it's Oscar nominations came from. Industrial Light and Magic and visual effects supervisor Richard Edlund did a tremendous job during the shoot and in post-production, creating animated and live effects that are convincing to this very day. "Light and Magic" would be a very apt way to describe what we get onscreen during the film. Edlund was already a 2-time Oscar winner (for Star Wars in 1978 and Raiders of the Lost Ark in 1982) and one of the leading lights in the industry at that time. His work has been recognized with many other awards and nominations. He won a BAFTA for the effects in Poltergeist and worked on many other huge films which would net him Oscar nominations. For the Oscar for Sound Effects Editing, Stephen Hunter Flick (who'd win an Oscar for Speed in 1995) and Richard L. Anderson (who won a special Oscar for his work on Raiders of the Lost Ark) were nominated. Both Oscars went to E.T. the Extraterrestrial - making Spielberg's influence at those awards noteworthy - but nothing can be taken away from the ghostly visions, ghastly creatures, blinding lights and other spectral visions which are entrancing.

Behind the lens was a cinematographer who has become special for me - Matthew F. Leonetti may not necessarily have only worked on superb highbrow films, but so many of the titles on his resume that are either schlock, cheap or not up to scratch are at least fun and noteworthy. I had the pleasure of taking a good look at his fast-paced work on 1995 film Strange Days, and under the direction and instruction from both Tobe Hooper and Steven Spielberg he does some interesting things and really brings suburban living to colourful life in Poltergeist's wonderful early scenic scenes. There's something vibrantly real about it, but at the same time majestic and soaring when we take in the entire area from on high. Leonetti seems to thrive while working with such great filmmakers, and he turns Poltergeist into something magical. It would be very much remiss of me if I were not to mention the reverse dolly zoom we get during the last sequence, when Diane finds herself running along a seemingly never-ending corridor. Those shots are so rare, and I enjoy them so much. A lot of what we get in Poltergeist is straightforward, but it has spectacular moments such as those.

What adds a note of perfection is the simply sublime and ultra-enjoyable score the film got from one of the big guns of the industry Jerry Goldsmith. How do I even start to describe it? Lots of brass. At it's peak it ranges from horror to religious wonder and reverance. But Poltergeist has a score that shines from the very start - with lullabies, love, enchantment, fun and more all expressed in a loud way that isn't overbearing, despite it's strong presence during the whole film. Carol Anne's Theme, which is heard at the start of the film, was released on a soundtrack album with lyrics which we don't hear in the actual movie. It's a cute, gleeful and soft tune that balances out the more severe shocks that come later in the film, and sets up the perfect kind of suburban life the film wants us to tune into when meeting the Freeling family. Goldsmith was nominated for an Oscar for this score - but once again E.T. would steal the thunder, and John Williams would be taking away another Oscar that night. Out of 18 nominations, Goldsmith has only ever won once - for The Omen in 1977. He must hate Oscar night.

Poltergeist editor Michael Kahn has been much used by Spielberg, winning Oscars for Saving Private Ryan, Schindler's List and Raiders of the Lost Ark among 5 other nominations (some for other Spielberg films.) He does a fine job with many short shots. The production design by James H. Spencer (Innerspace, The 'Burbs) and the set decoration by Cheryal Kearney is absolutely excellent - when you see the film in a cinema, you notice all of the toys and various bric-a-brac that fills the Freeling's house. It truly feels like a very lived-in house that's real - and that young Robbie has a love of Star Wars with various posters and merchandise. This extends to pictures the kids have drawn, school projects and other small items and books of note. This production has had a lot of care and attention put into it, and the talent that's been drawn into the filmmaking vortex that Poltergeist was is impressive. Behind all of these industry leaders was an army of technicians working on the finer details and making the experience of watching this film as immersive as it can be. To this day, it looks flawless.

I can't say much more about the film without addressing the elephant in the room - who directed Poltergeist, Tobe Hooper or Steven Spielberg? It's a controversy that's raged for years, with many people insisting that Spielberg should have been given a co-director's credit. The producer was on set most of the time, and giving Hooper, the actors and other crew members instructions - that much is clear. It can probably never be determined just how far this went, with various people giving us differing accounts. The film was made the way it was made, and credit is often given or taken away leaving us with impressions that don't tell the whole story - so perhaps it doesn't matter too much who was credited as director. It's common for producers to lean on people - in the end it's up to them to get what they want from everyone, and it just depends on how closely producers are watching the proceedings. Spielberg was free, watched closely and participated. We're better off for that, I feel - and perhaps the fact that Tobe Hooper didn't make any more films like Poltergeist is what makes many people consider this a Spielberg film through and through. Debating the controversy more thoroughly feels wrong anyway, since Hooper no longer has a chance to defend himself on this matter.

There's a great sense of mystery to the story Poltergeist tells, and the thrill we get from it is the thrill of the unknown. Tangina and Dr. Lesh talk vaguely about beings from other dimensions and beasts - souls finding their way to the light. Of course, once the story continued in the inevitable sequels reasons and causes found their way into screenplays and diluted that wonderful sense of the unknowable. There are actually a few causes directly implicated in the first film, but for the most part the film just dazzles the senses and leaves the paranormal as a riddle with no answer. Steven Spielberg came up with the story, and reasoned that Hooper would be a good person to direct due to his frightening Texas Chainsaw Massacre - while Michael Grais and Mark Victor cobbled together the screenplay after a suggestion from Spielberg about doing a "ghost story". There hadn't been anything quite like Poltergeist that I'd come across when I first saw it. These stories tended to be much more low-key and quiet, with occasional frights. Instead what we get here is a constant blast - almost like a paranormal war.

Poltergeist happens to be one of those films I've seen many times, and one of those films that has held up - while other films have dipped and showed their flaws, this one never has. It's mix of visual effects and music seems to be absolutely timeless, and there's not a single line that feels out of place - every step it takes is right on the money. It's not a creepy, scary film as much as a wild explosion of out-of-control spectacle. Everyone performs their role well, and meets their requirements. Sadly, Dominique Dunne was murdered the same year Poltergeist was released - the first in a string of unusual deaths that led to the speculation of a "Poltergeist Curse" surrounding the production of these films. It was followed by a sub-par sequel, Poltergeist II : The Other Side and Poltergeist III, which was simply awful, and I tend to only think about the original film when I think 'Poltergeist'. There was a remake released in 2015 that was completely forgettable. The original, though, is unforgettable. Tobe Hooper, meanwhile, would never really live up to the potential that Poltergeist (with help) and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre showed he had, but his output was interesting and worth exploring if only because most of his films have been long forgotten.




I forgot the opening line.
Cool! Did you see this really good recent article about his career, by the way?: https://musings.oscilloscope.net/pos...heyday-of-tobe
I hadn't read that - thanks. There's a lot in that article that'll give me much more grounding for the Tobe Hooper thread overall.



I hadn't read that - thanks. There's a lot in that article that'll give me much more grounding for the Tobe Hooper thread overall.
You're welcome; also, I guess this thread isn't going in chronological order through his filmography?



I forgot the opening line.
You're welcome; also, I guess this thread isn't going in chronological order through his filmography?
The way I see my filmmakers threads, they're a mix of chronological and non-chronological. I really enjoy following a filmmakers journey by looking at and reviewing what they've done step by step - but peppered in there are occasional reviews of films they've done later in their careers. For example, I started my Altman thread with Nashville and The Player, but then followed him chronologically up to the film he made just before M*A*S*H (which I'll probably review next on that thread.)

Hope The Funhouse is a part of this
The Funhouse is definitely going to be part of this, and my review of it will be up eventually.



I forgot the opening line.


Eggshells - 1969

Directed by Tobe Hooper

Written by Tobe Hooper & Kim Henkel

Starring Ron Barnhart, Pamela Craig, Allen Danziger
Sharron Danziger & Kim Henkel

You can call it experimental and psychedelic, and you'd probably be understating Eggshells a little bit - on the verge of being a debut feature film from Tobe Hooper, but still seeming like a test run for future endeavors. Primarily it's about a group of young Americans transitioning into young adulthood as they live together under the same roof - this roof happening to be part of a spirit-infused and perhaps haunted house. It's the spiritual aspect that lends a crazy air of "anything goes", and cinematographic trickery, special effects and fancy fun-filled editing turn any touch of the etheric into a wild and crazy ride. Filled with segments, some of which are mind-blowing and experimental artistic moments, this film has a narrative which is very loose and lends itself more to a 'feel' than concrete story. The film has many 'nonsense' kind of moments, for example when one character gets out of his car, and for no discernable reason smashes the front windshield in with an axe before getting back in and continuing his journey.

During the film we see Mahlon (Mahlon Foreman) leave home for Texas University to start life in earnest, and move in with the characters this film follows - the house with a strange spirit who one day wanders in and lives mainly in the basement. There's conversation, sex, life and even eventually marriage as we perceive life, nature and magic flitting through the viewfinder - Eggshells is kind of all-encompassing - we'll be with the physical and down-to-earth one minute, and the next soaring with magic. Sometimes a segment is wonderful, and at other times a segment will truly test your patience - though the movie is worth really sticking with because of the former. It also has the same visual aesthetic and real-life narrative feel that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre would have a few years down the track.

Tobe Hooper did nearly all of the work putting Eggshells together, but writer and friend Kim Henkel helped with the story and appeared as one of the young people (Toes) living in the house. Hooper was a young cameraman-for-hire at the time, having graduated from the University of Texas, being one of the universities first film students - so he handled all of the cinematography and camera work. He edited the film (with help from Robert Elkins) creating all of the effects and psychedelic features the film is known for. I have to say, all up it's not bad - especially for somebody fresh from film school, and you can sense his raw enthusiasm throughout the feature length film. At times a plexiglass dome or balloons are made liberal use of, but these parts of the film still feel fresh and inventive. Spencer Perskin and Shiva's Headband is credited for providing music, as was Jim Schulman.

Eggshells is going to have a vastly different effect on different people - it's definitely not for everyone. Comments on it vary from "Wonderfully esoteric" to "Artsy fartsy". Noel Murray, in an article published in 2016, called this "an experimental “head movie”" which is "more a demo reel of [Hooper's] technical know-how than it is a proper film." Parts of it feel like a much lighter and much more artistic vision of The Evil Dead with something spiritual lurking in a basement - not malevolent, but still eerie and not without influencing the characters in the film. It's an acid-drenched fantasy with music and visuals that take the viewer to many varied places and moods, and while not all of it worked for me, much of it really did. It feels close to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre - but that film was still 5 years and a lot of work away. Great to have something to really fill in that gap though - an interesting and enjoyable trippy feature full of invention, colour and motion. A counterculture relic that some people enjoy getting to know over 50 years after it's release.






I forgot the opening line.
Just before I post a review for Tobe Hooper's breakthrough - The Texas Chain Saw Massacre - I'd like to insert a great example of the kind of work he was doing between Eggshells and that. The 1 hour long Peter Paul and Mary: The Song is Love was the kind of documentary work he was doing for television in the early 70s, and has some enjoyable music in it, along with interviews with the members of this folk group. Interesting to watch as to it's style, time period and construction, this was broadcast in 1971, two years before Hooper would embark on the Texas Massacre production.




I forgot the opening line.


The Texas Chain Saw Massacre - 1974

Directed by Tobe Hooper

Written by Tobe Hooper & Kim Henkel

Starring Marilyn Burns, Paul A. Partain, Edwin Neal
Jim Siedow & Gunnar Hansen

The sweltering heat of Texas seems to be about to melt the lens we're looking through, and it feels like we're crammed into a van with five people - the cinéma-vérité style and grounded no-nonsense dialogue we hear in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre makes everything that happens seem like it's really happening. As horror films go, the nearly bloodless visual element ironically feels terribly disturbing - despite Tobe Hooper's attempts to get a PG rating by lessening the gore component and bad language. It was a low-budget attempt at a genre film to get a film career started - but it was a case of a little independent feature being knocked out of the park altogether, meaning that this career-starter would become an all-out classic forever remembered. The title alone was enough to attract controversy and attention (as desired) but the film had a hypnotic, spellbinding and creepy feel to it - something it retains to this very day. It's low budget impromptu set decoration and location work helped foster a kind of realness that helped the found footage genre, still a couple of decades away.

Checking up on her grandfather's grave after reports of grave robbing and desecration hit the airwaves, Sally Hardesty (Marilyn Burns) is travelling with her wheelchair-bound brother Franklin (Paul A. Partain) and friends Jerry (Allen Danziger), Kirk (William Vail) and Pam (Teri McMinn). They also decide to check out the old, abandoned Hardesty homestead, where Sally grew up - but on the way there decide to pick up a hitchhiker (played by Edwin Neal), who turns out to be a strange and somewhat mentally unbalanced young man - an unemployed slaughterhouse worker who doesn't take kindly to the stand-offish reaction he gets to his bizarre antics. He lashes out with a razor blade and cuts Franklin - so therefore is thrown out of the van, cursing the occupants inside. After failing to buy gas at a local service station, the group head towards the homestead and check out the filthy, aged place which is slowly being retaken by nature. Kirk and Pam wander off to look for a place to swim that Franklin tells them about, but they end up coming across a house at which they assume they might be able to procure petrol for the van. Waiting inside is a murderous family of cannibals who will not take kindly to any kind of intrusion.

For Tobe Hooper, Eggshells wasn't the kind of film he could expect to advance his career as a filmmaker - the arthouse feature would only appeal to a small percentage of the public, and more genre-classified work was what was needed to help expose his profile more. With Kim Henkel, who had collaborated on Eggshells with him, he wrote a screenplay which was influenced by a variety of real-life horror stories he heard on San Antonio news broadcasts, and specifically the gruesome crimes of Ed Gein in the 1950s - a source of inspiration for numerous other horror classics, such as Psycho. It was just a simple horror story which could be turned into an exploitation feature and get some attention - and I'm sure Hooper would not have been expecting the kind of attention the film would get. Initially given the name Headcheese as a working title, and an initially planned release title of Leatherface, the film would also be influenced by the political climate of the time, with the Vietnam War and Watergate scandal having shaken the United States as a whole. The dark side of a cumulative societal consciousness was unleashed, and although Tobe Hooper might not have known it at the time, he was now at the vanguard of horror filmmaking.

Working hard in the stifling heat was novice cinematographer Daniel Pearl, who helped to impose himself during several scenes and make his presence felt - there's one dolly shot that's oft-talked about amongst fans of this film (it is quite nice) which takes us under a swing Teri McMinn has just got off and follows behind her as the 'murder house' in the film looms larger and larger until it's dark presence fills the whole frame. Ironically, the people coordinating the entire shoot argued vociferously against this shot being set up as it would eat up precious time - but thankfully Pearl persuaded Hooper of it's merit. The visual style of the film overall is extremely sun-washed and bright, and Pearl's work is often quite inventive and unlike something you'd normal see in a very cheap movie that's being shot by a debut director of photography. What's most highlighted though, is the general realism that's given priority over any kind of artistic innovation that would have been the norm in Eggshells - both Pearl and Hooper obviously smart enough to realise that utilizing that specific skillset of the director would turn off fans of the genre. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre's look was a large part of it's eventual success, and seems to work even more the older and more haggard it appears through the years.

One person I feel should really be given a lot of credit for enhancing this visual component of the film is art director Robert A. Burns - staple of classic horror films such as The Hills Have Eyes, The Howling and Re-Animator. Tasked with decorating the cannibal family's house, Burns drove throughout the surrounding areas finding animal bones and carcasses to litter the place with, and those who have seen the film will probably remember the many varied pieces of furniture constructed by skeletal remains (often human-looking) with macabre ornaments adorning every area explored. That house is chilling, and when McMinn finds herself face down in feathers and trash, surrounded by such items as a small birdcage housing a chicken, any audience would find themselves on edge. The desecrated human remains we see at the start of the film - which really sets the tone perfectly, were constructed by Tobe Hooper himself - by that stage of production funds were virtually nonexistent and the crew had already departed. I think those opening shots were an essential component of the film, and that it would be a lot poorer without them.

Due to budgetary constraints Hooper himself also had a large part to play in scoring the film, with added help from Wayne Bell. This aspect of the film would be one of the most unusual, with string instruments being abused and other non-instruments co-opted to create all kind of bizarre and unsettling noises. Any kind of percussion which could be further distorted and warped was added to the unconventional and unsettling mix of acoustical accompaniment. All of this unnatural jangling and throbbing helped to throw the mind of the audience into places where their nerves would further deteriorate as it's combined with what we're seeing visually. Some of the sounds have remained a secret only known to Hooper (who passed away in 2017) and Bell - the source of the grinding, vibrating tone we hear at the start of the film, when we see flashes of the desecrated corpses, has never been identified. 2012 film Berbarian Sound Studio has occasionally been cited as giving an example of the all-encompassing process of creating new kinds of sound to score a film with - using instruments in a different ways and non-instruments to add tones and notes to unnatural melodies. This helps to match the unsettlingly real visuals to create an all-encompassing horror experience.

Famed make-up artist Dorothy J. Pearl would help to elevate everything achieved with her work transforming John Dugan into a blood-sucking grandfather aged over 100 years (the actor himself was barely 20 at the time his scenes were filmed) and the rest of the cannibal family into unusual freaks. The grandfather sits in an upper bedroom of the house (which has since been shifted, and turned into a restaurant which makes the most of it's Chain Saw Massacre history) with what's assumed to be his dead wife - all shot on location without the use of sets. The film's edit is credited to Larry Carroll, but a lot of the film was constructed with Tobe Hooper grinding everything along while negotiating the funds that would be needed to finish the film. Many of the performers were method actors, which created genuine hostility in a few cases - and it's incredible that they managed to get through the unbearable heat, smell and stress of days that at times stretched to 16 hours straight. The struggle for this film just to get made at all helped to distract most of the people making it from even considering how well it might do - but when someone did, it was always with the assumption that this would play at a few drive-ins before disappearing.

I'm always a little surprised at just how effective a horror film The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is when I watch it - and it's usually with the assumption that it won't be as good as the last time I saw it - but over and over again it strikes me as one of the best. The way scenes are edited and scored gives me more of a jolt than blood and brains ever could - and it seems the same goes for most other people that see it. They're simply disturbed by moments like Leatherface (a great masked performance from Gunnar Hansen) throwing a man into another room, and slamming shut a steel door in our faces after brutally smashing his skull with a sledge hammer. No blood. No gore. But a shocking onscreen murder - more than many a CGI-filled gory, horror-infused and bloody death which in lesser films almost goes by unnoticed. There's a lesson there for any filmmaker who thinks himself or herself someone who'd like to create a good genre film - the set-up, score and the edit often decide just how frightening and horrible moments are appreciated by those watching the film. Tobe Hooper and his crew simply nailed this effort like a hail Mary from the other side of a basketball court that's all net. It's a remarkable story.

It's sad though, to consider just what happened to the actors and crew of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre when their already whittled down percentage of the profits were stolen by distributors who weren't on the level. After the film was a runaway success and broke all kinds of records for independent features, instead of maybe a million or half a million dollars they each ended up with a cheque for around $500. It took much legal action and time to settle the outrage from that unfortunate business - and seems to be the first (but by no means the last) rotten film industry business to affect a Tobe Hooper film. Regardless of that though - any great film deserves celebration, and will always be around - some polls, magazines, books and critics rank it as the number one horror film ever made. Approaching it's 50th anniversary, it remains part of our cultural zeitgeist - with constant sequels and remakes making the rounds - the most recent of which was 2022's Texas Chainsaw Massacre trying to emulate the original's grittiness, but failing to learn any of the lessons that a close look at the making of the original might teach director David Blue Garcia and that film's producers.

This film introduced many iconic horror/exploitation tropes - such as the modern horror mass murderer who wears a mask, the chain saw as a murder weapon and the final girl, which has become part and parcel of the entire genre in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Personally, I love the performance of Edwin Neal as the Hitchhiker - a superbly mad acting job from an eccentric performer whose career never really took off (you can spot him in JFK, where he has a cameo.) Like much of this film's cast, he's spent his career mostly in B-films. For Tobe Hooper, this film (nearly alone) made his name recognizable in the industry from that point forward - and he seems to have been a filmmaker blighted with bad luck and the very worst side of filmmaking. He'd spent a fruitful decade refining his skills directing and as a cameraman (1965 short film The Heisters was nearly nominated for an Oscar) and as such seems to have been more than ready to turn out a feature film as good as this. What was perhaps unexpected was how it managed to fall neatly into a kind of perfection that horror rarely manages to inspire, therefore influencing an entire generation of genre filmmakers.

I still find The Texas Chain Saw Massacre disturbing and frightening, despite my familiarity with horror films - and it's a great film to really intently focus on at night with no interruptions. It would have to be included in my top 10 horror films of all time when considering just how unsettling it is to watch. Is it a masterpiece? It probably is - although at the time of it's release it was automatically dismissed by critics who have a problem with the horror genre as a whole. It was a creative endeavour of hard fought, on-the-edge almost moneyless filmmaking, and the entire film works absolutely faultlessly. The black comedy in it simmers under the surface, at just the right distance. The atmosphere it captures is exquisite for a dread-soaked horror film. It's world feels like one we could just step into - all artifice gone, it seems to mirror reality. To help, Hooper cheekily added a "This is a true story..." appendage to the film's opening, but it hardly needed it. It's part of a legacy left by Ed Gein and his horrifying obsession with corpses, which shocked the world - only in this case, we actually appreciated being shocked, or at least I did - and still do.




Victim of The Night
Hopefully this isn't blocked (I subscribe):

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/03/18/m...x-ti-west.html

A significant bit is about Ti West's X but it is a lot about TCM and Tobe Hooper.



I forgot the opening line.
Hopefully this isn't blocked (I subscribe):

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/03/18/m...x-ti-west.html

A significant bit is about Ti West's X but it is a lot about TCM and Tobe Hooper.
It was, but I went in for the $2 a month subscription (I gotta remember after 11 months and 3 weeks to write them and say I'm finished with 'em.) It was a coincidence that over the few days I was checking out The Texas Chainsaw Massacre I just so happened to have seen X and Barbarian - two modern films that seem to take more inspiration from (and have more understanding of) Tobe Hooper's film than any others.



Victim of The Night
It was, but I went in for the $2 a month subscription (I gotta remember after 11 months and 3 weeks to write them and say I'm finished with 'em.) It was a coincidence that over the few days I was checking out The Texas Chainsaw Massacre I just so happened to have seen X and Barbarian - two modern films that seem to take more inspiration from (and have more understanding of) Tobe Hooper's film than any others.
Well, if you have the subscription now, it's worth mining the Film section, NYT does a LOT of really good film articles, not just film-reviews.



I forgot the opening line.


Eaten Alive - 1976

Directed by Tobe Hooper

Written by Kim Henkel, Alvin L. Fast & Mardi Rustam

Starring Neville Brand, Mel Ferrer, Carolyn Jones, Marilyn Burns
Robert Englund & William Finley

Eaten Alive feels something like a Southern Psycho mixed with Jaws, having a supposed "crocodile" taking the place of Bruce the shark at a time when killer animals were all the rage. Steven Spielberg's film had taken all before it the previous year, and exploitation artists (and definite non-artists) were jumping on the bandwagon by the dozen. But what the producers of this film hadn't bargained on was Tobe Hooper's decision to take this in a different direction - adding arthouse to their low-budget genre bash, and scaring them as much as the monster in this film was meant to scare audiences. Writer/producers Alvin L. Fast and Mardi Rustam were pure exploitation - and stuck to what sold, but Hooper brought his Eggshells and Texas Chainsaw Massacre cohort and co-creator Kim Henkel onboard to rewrite (or "adapt") the screenplay to give the film a new and weird direction - then took this film to some really fascinating places. The result is a pretty uneven mess that is nevertheless entertaining in stretches - and well worth watching for fans.

After inexperienced and somewhat high-strung prostitute Clara Wood (Roberta Collins) refuses patron Buck (Robert Englund) anal sex, she's thrown out of the bordello she's staying at by madam Miss Hattie (Carolyn Jones) - eventually coming across a run-down hotel amongst the scrub and dirt tracks. There, proprietor Judd (Neville Brand) at first welcomes her, but after realising she worked as a prostitute at the nearby brothel he psychotically turns on her, killing her with a pointed rake and feeding her body to the large "crocodile" he keeps fenced in by the pond bordering the building. Not long, later on, an unusual and dysfunctional family arrive - unbalanced Roy (William Finley), nagging Faye (Marilyn Burns) and little Angie (Kyle Richards). Angie's little dog Snoopy manages to break through the wire fence and gets eaten by the croc, and when Roy proceeds as if to shoot the animal, he's killed by Judd, who then kidnaps Faye and ties her to a bed. Angie escapes under the hotel, and Judd's attempts to get her are interrupted by Clara's worried father Harvey (Mel Ferrer) and sister Libby (Crystin Sinclaire) who go on to enlist the help of Sheriff Martin (Stuart Whitman) to find the missing runaway.

What a colourful low budget mess this is. From Robert Englund's opening line of the film - "Name's Buck, I'm rarin' to ****!" (we open on his belt buckle and crotch) - to his fixation on anal sex (it's the "best way to do it" he insists) and on towards William Finley's Roy who just so happens to be more mentally unbalanced than the films psychotic hotel proprietor - there's plenty to take in. Not least of which is the stagey set that's been constructed, instantly recognizable as being nowhere near real, which Hooper goes on to strip layers away from, making it and the film look less and less like reality and much more dream-like and stylized. During one point, at dusk I'm assuming, the film is bathed (drowned) in the reddest of red lights, making you feel like the mad family that have arrived have found themselves in hell itself. The artifice of everything is enhanced ten-fold, and Hooper plays with us in ways you simply don't see in many genre pictures. Hooper is going for modern horror grindhouse 'fairy-tale' here. Neville Brand can't quite get there performance-wise (apparently he was dead drunk during the entire shoot) but he seems so out of it that you can just about buy the fact that this guy and sanity have parted with animosity. The monster in this film - a probable alligator which Judd insists is a crocodile, looks so fake that the crew have to film it in inventive ways.

The story is based on real-life Texas man Joe Ball, who kept a saloon in Elmendorf, Texas during the 1930s. One of the attractions his saloon had were the six alligators he kept there, which he'd charge customers to see while he was feeding them. Unfortunately, this food often amounted to stray cats and dogs Ball had picked up off the street - fed alive to the hungry creatures. When women, barmaids, former girlfriends and finally his wife went missing, suspicion fell on him and before he could be tried, Joe Ball committed suicide. Rumour has it that he fed all of the human remains to his alligators. Fixing his film around this, Hooper was retreading the same course that led to such success with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (that film linked with Ed Gein) - but the difference with this film was the fact that even though Kim Henkel had been able to mold it into something the director could work with to create art, he was answerable to producers who were funding the project. Their constant interference and meddling led Tobe to walk away from the project when it was near completion. A few scenes were filmed without him, and the film edited without any input.

Director of photography Robert Caramico was a regular on the exploitation and low budget scene - his debut film happened to be the somewhat famous Orgy of the Dead, which had been written by Edward D. Wood Jnr. and featured Criswell spouting one-liners as a succession of dancers strip and display their special features. His resume includes such films as Blackenstein (1973) and Guess What Happened to Count Dracula? (1971) and he was typical of the people making Eaten Alive - not so much artistic, but quick, cheap and dirty. His shots let the horror take place just off-screen while some other crew member either spits or spouts blood for added effect. It's a noticeable step down from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre - but what's even worse is the editing from Michael Brown. Even casual watchers will notice that the cuts and edits just don't seem right, and don't hit the right marks or rhythm. Brown was just trying to establish himself at the time, and would later win 3 Emmys for television work. His most well-known feature films include Jaws the Revenge and Steven Seagal movie Above the Law. It's sad to see this kind of stuff after the brilliant edit of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and you get the feeling if Hooper had of been able to assist in editing and finish the film, this would have been a lot better.

What Hooper did get to contribute to was the score of the film, once again teaming with Wayne Bell like he did on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre two years previously. We get the same kind of unusual treatment, and it is one of the better features of Eaten Alive - the dream-like beeps and bloops that mirror the spiraling mental illness that seems to affect so many of the characters in this film - even if mother nature is providing the last denouement and cleaning up the mess. Eaten Alive's score is a cacophony of noise at times - tinkles mixed with crashing atonal keyboard notes and low vibrating tones. During lulls we hear odd noises, very much in keeping with what worked so well on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre - all obviously captured either electronically, or with implements which aren't exactly musical instruments. Clicks and bangs fade in and fade out - nervous and frightful noises that feel like your synapses firing rather than any kind of melody or music, which doesn't apply with a Hooper/Bell score. What this all sounds most like is the science fiction scores of old, with Theremins producing their electric moans - and is very much unlike any horror scores we'd hear these days - and that's a shame.

The film was made on the sound stages of Raleigh Studios in Hollywood, with a very low budget that didn't allow for much realism. Art director and production designer Marshall Reed, along with set decorator Michael Wiegand can't do much and didn't have much to work with by the looks of it. The sets look bare and unrealistic, and these crewmen didn't last long in the industry. The crocodile itself appears to be a stuffed one with no animatronic features - so obviously members of the crew pushed it around and the actors had to make it look like they were being attacked. It's so cheap it's ridiculous, and doesn't work at all. The special effects alligator-wise are credited to Robert A. Mattey, who had actually worked on Jaws the previous year - a fact that's pretty hard to reconcile with what we get onscreen. Mattey had been nominated for an Oscar in 1962 for his work on The Absent Minded Professor, but something sure went wrong on this production, and I'm sure it's not one of his proudest moments. Bruce the shark had his problems, but he was no Tobey the "crocodile". One of the worst byproducts of the daffy croc is that it won't scare you even a little, looking completely benign.

Come the 1980s, Eaten Alive (known as Death Trap in the U.K. and Australia) became one of the films embroiled in the 'Video Nasty' pogrom, causing it to be removed from British video shelves and banned like so many other horror films at the time. Moral minority crusader Mary Whitehouse had pointed the finger at horror movies as the unlikely cause of the ills plaguing society at the time, and even though there really isn't any gore in the film, and no more violence than there is in Psycho, it was thought that if a young impressionable kid saw Eaten Alive he'd go one step further away from a life of peace and productivity and one step closer to being a criminal. Personally, I think the way the parents raise the child is a determining factor, along with genetic make-up. "Monkey see monkey do" works well for monkeys, but human beings are more complex, and have a far deeper understanding than people like Mary Whitehouse seem to understand - and people like Whitehouse should never be let near any position of authority that allows censorship or spreading half-baked ideas.

So, overall, my thoughts about Eaten Alive are both positive and negative. Tobe Hooper appears to have been trying to do something different here, and the producers had a very different idea of what Eaten Alive should look like from him. When you see William Finley barking like a dog and acting like a schizophrenic maniac, while his wife is unburdening herself of her strange wig, and their daughter is crying hopeless tears for Snoopy - you just know then there's something going on - not only because of that, but because of the red glow that's nearly blotting out your vision entirely. Neville Brand, however, often gets too much time to mumble incoherently - at times provoking a bored reaction when you realise you've been listening and watching for far too long as he babbles. At times he's unconvincing. Other actors, like Mel Ferrer, are wooden and look completely unsure of what they should be doing. Robert Englund is at least confident and sure of who he's playing, and it's a pleasure watching him - he plays what appears to be the sanest person in the film, and he happens to be a violent, drug dealing, sex crazed miscreant. Carolyn Jones and the way she coldly, patly and flatly denies ever having seen Clara Wood while still trying to ingratiate herself to Wood's family raised a chuckle from me.

It's hard to rate Eaten Alive - some of it's fun to watch, and you have to hand it to Tobe Hooper for transforming it into a warped kind of surreal fairy tale. Over-cranked fog machines add to the whole sense of what he was going for here. William Finley, Carolyn Jones and Robert Englund bought in and are great to watch. You also have to acknowledge just how poorly the "crocodile" worked, how bad some of the performances are and how awful the editing is - not to mention the general feel of cheapness, which while helping The Texas Chain Saw Massacre doesn't do as much for Eaten Alive. It probably comes down to certain tastes - so while you could now count me as someone who enjoys watching Eaten Alive, in general most people are going to be put off by it's lesser features. Personally, I could sit back and just listen to this film's weird score and off-kilter sound, including what all the character's say and the way they say it. If not for Hooper's twisting of the genre, it would be instantly forgettable and not worth the effort. There are plenty of questions for those people who love "logic" - but this is a "once upon a time" kind of deal - and if the producers had just a little more faith it would be a beautiful (and very camp) classic. It might be sleazy, and it might be cheap - and it might not be the least bit scary - but it's a little creepy and goes for something different. If you give it a chance, it might end up eating you alive.




It was that sloppy editing that initially kept me from appreciating Eaten Alive. But in subsequent viewings, now that I know what to expect, I kind of like it's weird rhythms. There is a sleepy disconnected feel to the film, that fits it's dreaminess. And while it is certainly a big step down from Texas, this is a lovable weird and disturbing film that would rank pretty high on my B list of horror films.



I forgot the opening line.
An aside...



The Dark (1979) can come nowhere near being included as one of Tobe Hooper's films, as he lasted only three days before a breaking point with producers was reached, and he was fired, ostensibly for "falling behind schedule". I have no idea which scenes he filmed, but I watched the film just for the hell of it. I found it to be somewhat dull, and there's not a lot in it to make it worth the effort. The production was a messy one, with the entire plot being changed near the end, transforming the antagonist into an alien that emits laser beams from his eyes - and this transformation has been done in an awkward way.

I have a big soft spot for the trailer however, so I'll share that here :




I forgot the opening line.


Salem's Lot - 1979

Directed by Tobe Hooper

Written by Paul Monash
Based on a novel by Stephen King

Starring David Soul, James Mason, Lance Kerwin
Bonnie Bedelia & Lew Ayres

In 1979, Frank Langella appeared on the silver screen as the latest incarnation of Dracula, in a modest but not too overwhelming success. That same year, German director Werner Herzog put together a much more thoughtful, arthouse take on the character and legend in Nosferatu the Vampyre. This was enough to give producers trying to get Stephen King's Salem's Lot off the ground pause - was there really enough room for their vampire-based property amid this slate of releases? In the end, a decision was made to take advantage of what television could offer - especially concerning the adaptation of a novel, but also to avoid direct competition as far as the cinema-loving public were concerned. Richard Kobritz at Warner Bros. Television, after seeing a screening of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, thought Tobe Hooper would be perfect for directing the film and Hooper, who hadn't had much work since directing Eaten Alive, jumped at the chance of having such a high profile project.

The film is book-ended by characters Ben Mears (David Soul) and Mark Petrie (Lance Kerwin) in the fictional town of Ximico in Guatemala, where they discover that an evil they've been fleeing has caught up with them. We then go back 2 years, to a time when Mears, a writer, returned to his home town of Salem's Lot to write a book on a place called Marsten House - a haunted, old decrepit mansion on the edge of town. He discovers a new owner living there - Richard Straker (James Mason), an old gentleman about to open an antiques store in town. He also meets and falls in love with Susan Norton (Bonnie Die Hard Bedelia), along with making a reconnection with teacher Jason Burke (Lew Ayres). Over time, a spate of deaths point to a mysterious source - Richard Straker and his unseen business partner, Kurt Barlow (Reggie Nalder). As the carnage comes more and more to resemble vampirism, those not already under their spell must do everything they can to destroy Barlow and Staker, before it's too late for the entire town.

Salem's Lot was shot with added, more edgy horror to include in a cinematic version which would play overseas - and indeed I recall the trailer for this film showing when I saw The Shining in 1980. I was only a boy, but that trailer actually scared me quite a bit - Salem's Lot's horror is effective and there are moments when it outdoes itself. I was spooked a second time when an advertisement on television showed clips from the film. The white glowing eyes of those inflicted with vampirism really pierce, and the images of floating children scratching at windows, pale and white-eyed, is nightmare-inducing. I take my hat off to Tobe Hooper, and especially a special makeup effects man known as Jack H. Young, who was nominated for a Primetime Emmy for transforming the actors in this film into truly terrifying entities (the award ended up going to the make-up effects team behind The Scarlett O'Hara War - a shame, for Young really deserved the recognition.) As a very interesting footnote to Young's career - he's the man credited by Margaret Hamilton for saving her when she caught fire during a dangerous stunt on The Wizard of Oz.

Another outstanding artist who helped create the look and feel of this miniseries/film is production designer Mort Rabinowitz, a man lovingly recalled by Hooper, and one who would work with him on future films such as The Funhouse. He didn't have a huge career in television or film, but what he does with the Marsten House in this is really memorable - one of the most atmospherically horrible houses you'd ever want to creep through, and the place where the climax of Salem's Lot takes place. It all mixes well with a score that almost feels too good to not be in a cinematic feature - and one that happened to be the very last of the well-known composer Harry Sukman. One last blast, which accentuates the horror and terror in Salem's Lot by hammering out musical screams and wails at the most opportune of times, and otherwise cresting and receding in a pleasing manner. This has it's share of what we call "jump-scares", but they are actually effective and frightening. It takes a lot to get to me, but even I had a few moments of fright which had me thinking "bravo" to a better-than-expected King adaptation. Sukman was also nominated for a Primetime Emmy.

To our more modern sensibilities, the film might feel a little slow (or that might just be me - not a big watcher of mini-series and the like.) It has plenty of time just to hang around with it's various characters, getting to know them and featuring a little inessential detail here and there - all the better for something that needed to be flexible enough to have shorter cuts shown in theaters. James Mason's charisma and status has him dominate all of the scenes he's in, and in general his is the most memorable performance you'll take from Salem's Lot - he's not chewing the scenery, but he seems to be having a good time playing the traditional Renfield role. David Soul doesn't do as much for me - there's a blandness to him that doesn't excite - but Bonnie Bedelia is really good. We don't see much of Reggie Nalder under the Nosferatu make-up. There are plenty of added characters, easily squeezed into the 3+ hour runtime, including Elisha Cook Jr. and Marie Windsor playing a husband and wife - just like they did in Stanley Kubrick film The Killing.

For Tobe Hooper, his record thus far has been one of artistic integrity and is interesting to explore. Eaten Alive wasn't traditionally outstanding, but it's surreal nature and unusual approach to the genre made it a film that really can't be missed, and loved by those who linger too long and become entranced by it's dream-like, misty atmosphere. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was already a classic, and still getting Hooper work. This was an artist who was slowly becoming pigeon-holed as a horror director (something he was fighting at the time, but just as an actor can be typecast, he would only be offered films of this genre to direct.) Salem's Lot seems to have put a final stamp on how noteworthy he was as a filmmaker, and the 1980s would prove to be a pretty successful era for him looking back. He did a tremendous job with this, making a truly scary adaptation of the King novel that had character, atmosphere and excitement in it. Hooper reveled in all aspects of filmmaking, but he also enjoyed having the most professional crew he'd ever had behind him. It was an unqualified success - surprising the critics, and providing a lot of impetus for the future.

Despite it's "made for television" feel, I enjoyed watching Salem's Lot - it really was something of a revelation, being a lot scarier than I thought it would be. It was also a better movie/miniseries than I expected all-round, even if the Nosferatu make-up on Reggie Nalder would have suited fuzzier television screens and not the high definition we get today. Stephen King towns, full of eccentric characters, have a certain feel to them, and Salem's Lot is no exception. This was only his second novel, and the miniseries only the second adaptation of one of his works after Brian De Palma's Carrie, but both really stood out and cemented his status as a horror writer. I grew up watching films like Cujo and Christine - absolutely loving them and becoming a fan of the books as much as the movies. The books were popular in the high school I attended, with even some of the less intelligent kids in the class reading them. There were no limits in King's books - and absolutely anything could happen. No matter how horrible your imagination might be, he'd trump it. The film's were more restricted - but I was still a big fan.

If I've ever watched this before (and I'm not sure if I have) it's been the cinematic version. I hear that this version is very much inferior to this, with many plot strands heading nowhere with no time to resolve them. It's been very enjoyable to get to know this in it's proper, 184-minute glory and after appreciating Eaten Alive more (Texas Chainsaw and Poltergeist are already close to my heart) Tobe Hooper's status in my eyes has risen a considerable amount. He seems to have had a love of filmmaking, and great vision (along with a hatred for studio suits and producers.) Salem's Lot is worthy of being included amongst his other films, for it stands tall in quality, care and innovation, especially in relation to the horror genre. Going back to the late 70s, and catching it from start to finish, is recommended for fans if they haven't already seen this. It isn't full of towering performances, but is very well-made - adapted with care, and a great understanding of the original story by Primetime Emmy-winning Paul Monash. People who are fans of the whole vampire subsection of fiction would do well to see it, as it sinks it's considerable teeth into their necks.