FOR THE FUN OF IT:

 

MR. LOBO'S CINEMA INSOMNIA, HALLOWEEN SHOW: HOUSE OF GHOSTS (10/31)

Beware, but more so, be prepared for Mr. Lobo's Cinema Insomnia, Halloween show this October 31st (beginning at 10pm on Twitch, OSI74/Roku and Amazon Fire). The "misunderstood" stream will present Christopher R. Mihm's heartfelt, 2012 indie salute to the films of William Castle ... House of Ghosts!

House of Ghosts, according to writer/director Mihm, holds the uncanny means to place one before an unearthly dimension, where the most horrid specters can reach out and snatch one's soul (and maybe even turn folks zombie-fied). To prevent one's untimely demise, it's advised that one hoist a handy Fear Shield (see above) before one's face to evade the encroaching terror, which one can print on 4" x 6" cardstock (or heck, if push comes to shove, a bare-bones napkin or index card will do). 

Though House of Ghosts mirrors a number of Castle's creations, its plot leans on 13 Ghosts and House on Haunted Hill (with maybe a few invited dabs of Invisible Invaders and Night of the Living Dead squeezed in). Like Castle's gimmick-geared duo, Mihm's fable was filmed in black and white and shares an effectual ensemble visiting a foreboding abode, in this case for a seance on a snow-laden night. (The cast includes Mark Scanlon, Sid Korpi, Mike Cook, Catherine Hansen, Justen Overlander, Andrea Ropella, Anthony Koczar, James Norgard, Michael Kaiser, Mark Haider, J. Andrew Wilkins, Stephanie Mihm and as the narrator/guide, Mr. Mihm.) 

House of Ghosts' nostalgic, throwback style is ideal for Mr. Lobo's genial, hosting skills. The presentation is bound to create fond, Halloween memories for all who watch it. Indeed, one would be foolish to bypass this grand, ghoulish delight. 

I'll be sharing a reminder on the Cinema Insomnia: House of Ghosts premiere as the holiday grows near. Stay tuned!👻

PINUP TIME: YVONNE DE CARLO IS LILY

 

PLANET OF THE APES (1968): A BROKENSEA AUDIO ADAPTATION, VIA RETRO AUDIO THEATRE

I came upon an incredible, 2024, Retro Audio Theatre-bannered presentation of Planet of the Apes (1968) on YouTube. The production is a fan-made, BrokenSea Audio Productions creation from 2007, which runs an impressive five hours. It expands upon Rod Serling and Michael Wilson's acclaimed, script adaptation of Pierre Boulle's novella, Monkey Planet, as directed by the incomparable Franklin J. Schaffner. 

The audio presentation reminds me of the 1970s, Power Records' Planet of the Apes, comic-book-accompanied releases, as well as The Twilight Zone, radio adaptations, from 2002 - 2012, and I dare say, the 1988, Simon & Schuster Night of the Living Dead, audio play. 

Though I could confirm that Bill Hollweg produced the redux for audio, based on Michael Avallone's intricate script, I'm still uncertain who plays most of the parts in this version, since there were few details supplied on Retro Audio's YouTube platform. Nevertheless, the performers do a splendid job bringing the characters to life, giving their own spins for each. Hollweg, in particular, gives Taylor a new-fangled grit (his voice not Charlton Heston's but earthy and cynical all the same), and those who enact Cornelius and Lucius capture Roddy McDowall and Lou Wagner's tonalities to an uncanny degree. (It must be noted that Jerry Goldsmith's percussive score accompanies the dialogue exchanges, enhanced by stirring sound effects: a clever, complementing touch.) 

For added enticement, this adaptation applies reflective segues inspired by Battle for the Planet of the Apes' poignant, Lawgiver wraparound, and there are flashbacks that detail Brent's mission to locate "the lost in space" Taylor: a hint of the shape of all things Beneath the Planet of the Apes. There are even Escape from the Planet of the Apes and Conquest of the Planet of the Apes references: prophetic, gap-filling allusions (springing from the foundations set by writer Paul Dehn). Caesar and Virgil are even mentioned, and Milo and Hasslein featured, as well as Urko from (I presume) the television series (live-action and/or animated), insinuating that the ambitious gorilla was ascending the ranks as Ursus reigned as its presiding general. (Of course, in the parallel, time-altered scheme of things, any number of explanations and outcomes can be considered and/or rationalized.)

From what I've unearthed, BrokenSea Audio has also produced an expanded, Beneath the Planet of the Apes, audio dramatization, which I hope to access and review, but for the present, this establishing trip should satisfy superior-simian fans for a long, time-tunneling spell. In other words, if you're an Apes fan, try it; you'll like it.🚀

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIBsd32Virc&t=4568s

PS: The individual, Apes episodes are available, as well, on the long abandoned, BrokenSea site, though the fused flow of Retro Audio's presentation makes for a much more convenient capture. Even so, here's the BrokenSea link:

https://brokensea.com/pota/

TERRIFIC TEAM-UP IMAGE: HAPPY GLOBAL JAMES BOND DAY 2026 (10/5)

 

I SAW BOORMAN AND THE DEVIL

Writer/director David (Pornography: A Thriller) Kittredge's documentary, Boorman and the Devil, focus on failure, or perhaps more so, a preordained outcome, damned by good intentions.  

John Boorman's Exorcist II: The Heretic bombed in a spectacular way in the spring of 1977. It had more than enough time to seize and maintain momentum (and had a hardy enough premiere) even during the Star Wars craze, and yet it left fans feeling embittered and betrayed.

Boorman's original concept for the production is detailed at length in Kittredge's opus, and though it isn't explicitly stated, the content fell in step with Mario Bava's The House of Exorcism, which in its own right incorporated his movie, Lisa and the Devil. In other words, that film's exorcism featured an inner world, a detailed dream or memory as it were, and if The Heretic had done the same, depicting Max Von Sydow Father Lankester Merrin's earlier fight against his demonic adversary in lurid Africa, success may have come. However, the enterprising plan faded at some point, where a metaphysical, shared-dream journey, which would insinuate Boorman's Deliverance with Pressburger and Powell's Black Narcissus, had become minimized beyond recapture. 

Per Kitteredge's narrative, the tale's preordained downfall began with Lee J. Cobb's passing (with a rewrite excising the actor's Lieutenant Kinderman) and was escalated when Boorman became ill for several weeks, leading writer/advisor Rospo Pallenberg to refashion much of the script. This led to further surreal segues that made an already convoluted vision not only hard to decipher, but comical and boring at its varying stages. 

Kitteredge gives the humble Boorman ample time to reflect on the matter. Boorman confirms that he was Warner Brothers' first choice to direct The Exorcist, but he found William Peter Blatty's content objectionable, so he opted to make the hallucengetic Zardoz instead. The director explains how he wished to build something that would, in the end, uplift more than strike fear: a bold move considering The Exorcist's fanbase, which hungered for an extension of William Friedkin's immediate classic. 

Linda Blair and Louise Fletcher bracket Boorman's lament, offering interesting tidbits on Richard Burton, who came to play Father Philip Lamont (a role for which John Voight, Jack Nicholson and Christopher Walken were considered). They also describe their frustrations with the production, with Fletcher stating that she felt the arduous affair would never end, and Blair expressing embarrassment over the movie's tap-dance sequence and marked disdain for Pallenberg. 

What makes The Heretic's failure so painful is that many of its contributors hoped it would match the success of The Godfather II, French Connection II and Magnum Force: sequels that more than held their own with their originals. From a visual stance, it at least delivered the goods, thanks to its elaborate sound stages and Garrett Brown's dizzying, locust, POV sequence. There's also Ennio Morricone's brilliant score, which bewitches all on its own.

Despite its broad, aesthetic qualities, The Heretic is the least popular chapter in The Exorcist franchise, but still has its followers (those who get it and appreciate its intent). On the flipside, it hasn't gained the reassessed exaltation of Zardoz, Seconds, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Star Trek--The Motion Picture or Day of the Dead (1985). Nevertheless, its lackluster status didn't derail Boorman's career, which resumed with Excalibur, The Emerald Forest and Hope and Glory. 

By sheer default, Boorman and the Devil acts as the sequel's shining moment: an unconventional love letter to a creation that should have been far more than it was and, in all sincerity, may never be more than it is.

ASBURY PARK ZOMBIE WALK 2026 (10/3)