RIP, Rowdy Roddy Piper

It saddens me to report that wrestling star, sci-fi legend and all-around bringer of joy Roddy Piper passed away on Friday. 

Despite usually playing a heavy in the wrestling ring (and in Cyndi Lauper's "The Goonies 'R' Good Enough" long-form music video!), I'll remember him best as a scrappy and endearing everyman––i.e., "Nada" in John Carpenter's THEY LIVE, one of my all time favorite movies.  As an actor, he always took the craft seriously, but never took himself too seriously, which resulted in some of the goofiest yet most sincere performances I've ever seen, from the aforementioned THEY LIVE to HELL COMES TO FROGTOWN.

"I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass..."

He was an athlete, a jokester, and an entertainer in every sense of the word––in fact, just seeing the man puts a smile on my face.  You're dearly missed, Roddy.

Only now does it occur to me... THE MIRACLE WORKER

Only now does it occur to me...  that the nearly nine-minute knock-down drag-out brawl between Annie Sullivan and Helen Keller (as the former attempts to pierce the abyss and teach the latter table manners) is probably the most brutal, drawn-out skirmish between stubborn personalities... until the spectacular six-minute fistfight from THEY LIVE.

The scenes are both so brilliantly blocked, staged, and acted (in THE MIRACLE WORKER, Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke directed by Arthur Penn; in THEY LIVE, "Rowdy" Roddy Piper and Keith David directed by John Carpenter) that they really stick out in one's mind as special, a beautiful fusion of stage and screen sensibilities.


The actors are permitted to reach into a deeply primal well as the scene is simplified and streamlined into two visceral, battling motivations:  "Eat with a utensil" & "I refuse!", and "Put on the glasses!" & "No!," respectively.


In each case, words take a back seat to action, and the result is raw, powerful, and riveting.  The scenes' length plays a role, too: as the characters clash beyond the point of reason and into pure obstinance/force of will, a dark humor emerges that somehow only intensifies the scene.  I think any director or actor should find a lot to learn here.

John Carpenter Fanfiction: CARPY & THE CAP'N- PART 3: SEASON OF THE WITCH (2010, Sean Gill)

CARPY & THE CAP'N:

A NEW WORK OF JOHN CARPENTER FAN-FICTION

BY SEAN GILL


Author's Note: This piece was preceded by
PART I: LOS ANGELES PRELUDE
and
PART II: RETURN TO POINT REYES.


PART III.
SEASON OF THE WITCH.

9.
10:37 P.M. April 27, 1993. Grauman's Chinese Theater, Hollywood, California.

Outside of Grauman's Chinese theater, all was quiet. The stillness was quite remarkable given the sheer amount number of raucous Cap'n Ron fans in attendance, John Carpenter thought as he thrust his hands deeply in his pockets. He paced back and forth, quite aimlessly. He'd survived a sufficient number of premieres to shed any real, crippling anxieties, yet his legs were still restless. He turned toward the theater again. It was draped with four enormous one-sheets, symmetrically arranged. The posters looked like this:
He glanced at his watch. The film should be ending any moment now. Suddenly, one of the doors swung open, and a tuxedo'd Kurt Russell strode out, purposefully.
"The big zinger's comin' up!" gushed Kurt.

"You didn't want to see their reactions?"
"Nah, I wanted to be out here with you, Johnny. We'll see their reactions soon enough, HAW-HAW-HAWWW!"

Faintly, he could hear the closing credits strains of the Coupe de Villes' "O Captain! My Captain (Ron)." A murmur within grew to a roar, and suddenly the red carpet was teeming with well-dressed Hollywood professionals and professional hangers-on (all equipped with martinis, of course). John was faced with a line of well-wishers, and while it was pleasant, he began to zone out their smiling faces and kind words and focus in on random martini chatter in the background. Here's some of what he heard:

"I didn't understand- is it a sequel to CAPTAIN RON, THE FOG, CHRISTINE, or ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK? Or is it all of them?"

"Ho-leee shit, that reveal of Snake Plissken at the end blew my goddamned mind! Now I have to rewatch CAPTAIN RON and check for foreshadowing! How did I not see it? They've even got the same eyepatch! It's like how Clark Kent fooled the staff of the Daily Planet!"

"Soooo lame. Carpenter's losing it. It's all been downhill since THE RESURRECTION OF BRONCHO BILLY. And what was with that soundtrack? It sounded like it was recorded by some old dudes in a basement."

"I liked it. A lot. But I must admit I was creeped out by all the Tom Atkins nudity."

"Wait, wait, wait. If Captain Ron and Snake Plissken are one and the same, then why doesn't shirtless Captain Ron have the snake tattoo?"
–"Because he hasn't gotten it yet, asshole! ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK takes place in 1997. This is 1993, jag-off."

"This has got to be his worst movie since THE THING. Or at least since that BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINATOWN. And the effects looked fake. Rubber and shadows. That's all it is. Why doesn't he get on board with these, uh, what're they called? From the TERMINATOR 2. Yeah, these C-G-I effects."

"Dennis Dun was born to do these kinds of movies. Why is Carpenter the only one giving him work?"

"BUCK FLOWERZ PART WUSHN'T BIG ENUFFF!"

At this last announcement, John actually turned around to see Buck Flower, dressed in a trenchcoat and swilling malt liquor from a brown paper bag. John arched a knowing eyebrow, smirked, and Buck shuffled away. As the night progressed, John became weary. He caught his eyes losing their focus and he looked down at the red carpet, now an indistinct, crimson blob. Something else that was red entered his field of vision. Something red and plaid. He shook his eyes to attention and looked up to see a kilt-wearing 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper. Piper wore an expression of sheer emotion upon his face, and there was a touch of wetness from where a single tear had streamed. Before John could say anything, he found himself caught up in a bear hug of titanic proportions.

"You're like that man you admire," pronounced Roddy.
"Who?"

"That director, did that picture with the Duke."

"Howard Hawks?"
"Yes. You show us how to live."
"Well, let's not get carried away, Roddy."

"You never admit to yourself what you are, John. You're one of the giants."
"Thank you, Roddy."

Roddy released his grip, straightened John's suit in a gesture that was at once strangely boyish and grandfatherly, and walked on. John felt renewed, somehow. He was filled with an indescribable energy he hadn't quite felt since his youth in Bowling Green. He straightened his cuffs and turned to face... Adrienne Barbeau.

"Adrienne, great to see you." They hugged.

"I liked it, John. Nice to see some humor after all these apocalyptic...meditations."

"Well, thank you. And thanks for being in it!"
"I figured a little voiceover cameo was the least I could do."
"I think it's nice for the audience to know that Stevie Wayne's still out there, somewhere, broadcasting snappy jazz and sultry weather reports."
Adrienne chuckled. "I'll see you around, John."

As she walked away, John felt a tap on his shoulder. Before he knew it, Kurt had handed him a martini glass and raised his own in a salute. Goldie Hawn stood awkwardly behind him.
"Cheers!"
"To Captain Ron..." offered John.
"To the best damn buddy I ever had," said Kurt.
"Cheers." John took a sip, but was immediately repulsed by the taste of coconut-infused monstrosity that rippled in his glass. "Wait a minute- is this-??!"

"It's Malibu, Johnny-boy! HAW HAWWWW!!!"
"Ye Gods!" exclaimed John, swishing his tongue in a futile attempt to cleanse his palate. The two men laughed for a long time.

10.
7:27 P.M. May 13, 1993. The basement of Nick Castle.

"Naw, Jamie, it's a little quicker than that. Up-tempo. Two, three, four!"
The Coupe de Villes rocked out harder than ever. They had a whole new slate of hot songs from the CAPTAIN RON soundtrack, ranging from pleasant ditties like "(He's the) Captain of the Ship" and "She Lives in Antonio Bay" to dark prog rock tracks like "Into the Fog," a song featuring a six-minute guitar solo by Tommy Lee Wallace which everyone agreed was downright Stygian. But for now, there was a new face amongst the Coupe de Villes: Jamie Lee Curtis, on drums. For some reason, she was wearing her costume from PERFECT.
Of course, she was only sitting in for a few rehearsals, but she'd felt so bad about missing out on CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG that she felt indebted to the band.
"Rockin' practice, fellas. ...And lady," remarked Nick Castle.
"I agree," said John.
"What about the elephant in the room?" asked Tommy.
"What about this?" Tommy waved a copy of Variety in the air. John, knowing what was coming, pursed his lips. Nick and Jamie looked to the magazine with interest.
"Says here that 'CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG is a futile exercise in self-promotion,' blah blah blah, 'an excuse to get his cronies a soundtrack album deal,' blah blah, 'a rip-roaring good time for no one, unless you're the cretinous sort who sees BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA as the pinnacle of film art,' blah blah, uh... and here: 'certainly the front runner for worst film of the year, and I've already seen BOXING HELENA, SUPER MARIO BROTHERS, and COP AND A HALF.'
There was a long pause, and Jamie Lee Curtis and the Coupe de Villes eyed one another, unsure what to say.
"Don't you care?" asked Tommy. "It's the Inquisition! It's SEASON OF THE WITCH all over again!"
"No," replied John. "I don't. These things might not really find their audiences for ten, twenty years or more. And the people who like 'em, LOVE 'em. I didn't make my movie for these flavor-of-the-month simpletons. I didn't give them any thought when I was making it. So I'll especially give them no thought afterward."
"John's right, you gotta put it out of your mind, or you'll just torture yourself. And over what? Some pencil neck in an office who doesn't know shit from Shinola," concurred Jamie.
"Check this out," offered Nick, pulling a different publication from his back pocket. "Cahiers du cinéma. It's their half-year issue, and they've assembled a list of the best films of 1993 so far. See, look who's number two... US!"
"Who's number one?" inquired Tommy.
"CARLITO'S WAY," read Nick. "So if Cahiers didn't have such a hard-on for all things De Palma, we'd be number one."
"YAH-EH-YUHH!" screamed Tommy, offering his fist. Nick placed his hand atop his, and John followed suit.
"What's happening?" wondered Jamie.
"It's a little thing we do," explained John. "Call it a secret handshake."
"COOOOOOOOOOOP DE VILLES!!!" they yowled, in unison.

11.

5:27 P.M. June 13, 1993. John Carpenter's home. Hollywood Hills, California.

John Carpenter reclined on his couch as Kurt Russell noisily wolfed down a super nacho platter. They were watching the third game of the 1993 NBA finals, a much-anticipated match between Phoenix and Chicago.
Watching basketball together was a common activity for John and Kurt; occasionally they'd spend hours together without even speaking at all, and yet it still felt to them like quality time. Today's game was not particularly thrilling, and neither was feeling very invested.
"What you got comin' up, Johnny?"
"Oh, yeah. Forgot to tell you. Anthology movie on Showtime called BODY BAGS. Premieres in August. Gonna be doing some acting in this one."
"Yeah? "
"Well, not a lot of acting. More like the narrator. A master of ceremonies."
"HAAAAA! You think you're Rod Serling, Johnny-boy?"
"Nah, I'm more of a Ghoul, or something."
"Good, so you won't need to hire a makeup artist... HAAAWWWW HAAAWW!"
"Verrrry amusing, Kurt."
"I'm just jerkin' yer turkey, man. Heh, heh."
"What about you?"
"Little flick called TOMBSTONE."
"That's right. A Western. Damn. Who's directing?"
"I am," Kurt whispered softly, winking. "But don't tell anybody. On the record, it's a guy named Cosmatos. Stallone gave me the lowdown on TANGO & CASH."
"Well, well..." John pondered, "who'd've thought you'd ever be directing, and I'd be acting? Or that you'd be directing a Western before I did?"
"It's the CAPTAIN RON thing. He turns everybody's lives upside down. It's what he does."
John smirked and took a swig of his beer.
"But you have no idea, Johnny– everything I know about directing, I learned from you."
"I don't think I'd be such a great teacher- 'John Carpenter' films are the only kind I know how to make."
Kurt chuckled, but then looked away, collecting himself. His manner became quite serious. "I, uh, don't know if I ever told you this, Johnny, but... I always saw you as a big brother. And now, gettin' to do what you do- in a manner of speaking- it's uh... I don't know what. It's great."
"Thank you, Kurt, that means a lot."
"Pity about CAPTAIN RON 2, though."
"Don't worry, it'll find its audience down the line."
"That's cold comfort to the Cap'n. But you know what I think?"
"What?"
"Remember the tale of Walt Disney's last words?" Kurt was referring to the legend that just before Walt Disney died, he had summoned for a pencil and paper, written the words 'Kurt Russell,' and then expired.
"Yeah. I thought you didn't believe it."
"Well, I'm still friendly with a lot of folks at Disney, and a few weeks ago they let me down into the vault. Showed me the actual piece of paper. It certainly had the look of authenticity. You can't fake that dead man's scrawl. And it said, 'Kurt Russell,' alright. But there was something about the placement of the name, and a purposeful stroke to the right. It's almost as if it were the beginning of a sentence which was never finished. Now maybe it was a misfiring synapse, he'd just seen FOLLOW ME, BOYS!, and he had my name in his mind by mistake when he really meant to write something else... Or maybe he had a vision of the future. Maybe he was going to write- 'Kurt Russell, team up with John Carpenter and make some of the best damn movies of all time.'"
"I don't think old Walt would have held a favorable view of THE THING."
"Oh, shoosh it. I'm trying to say something nice."
"Well, thank you, Kurt. You're a treasure, too."

12.

8:56 P.M. June 13, 1993. The interior of Kurt Russell's pick-up truck.

Kurt chawed on a gargantuan ham sammy as he drove home from John Carpenter's place. It was a lovely Sunday evening, and the sun was still setting as he made his journey through Laurel Canyon. His car phone began ringing, and, setting down his sandwich, he picked up the receiver.
"Kurt?"
"Hiya, Goldie."
"You on your way home?"
"Yup. Yessiree, the check is in the mail."
"What?"
"Nevermind. Ten minutes."
"Okay, honey. See you soon."
"Bye." Kurt moved to place the receiver in its cradle, but paused. Without thinking, he picked it up again, and began speaking, despite the fact there was no one on the other end:
"Just remember what ol' Kurt Russell does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Kurt Russell just looks that big ol' storm right square in the eye and he says, 'Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.'" He sharply hung up the phone, chortling privately to himself.

Meanwhile, in the bed of the truck, the desert wind fluttered a tarp, briefly revealing none other than Powers Boothe, curled and crouched and ready to spring, a devious grin upon his lips.
In the distance, heat lightning flashed and thunder rumbled and somewhere a scrappy kid was watching BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA for the first time and life was good.

THE END

John Carpenter Fanfiction: CARPY & THE CAP'N- PART 2: RETURN TO POINT REYES (2010, Sean Gill)

CARPY & THE CAP'N:

A NEW WORK OF JOHN CARPENTER FAN-FICTION

BY SEAN GILL


Author's Note: If you missed Part I: Los Angeles Prelude, may I suggest that you read it before proceeding.

PART II.
RETURN TO POINT REYES.

6.

6:35 P.M. June 21, 1992. The Old Western Saloon. Point Reyes, California.

The fifth day of the shoot had just come to a close, and John ruminated upon on the previous week's events while sitting by a pot-bellied stove and sipping on a bourbon. The film had been beset by a number of problems, but the cast and crew were still keeping their heads above water- so to speak. When he'd arrived on the 15th, though the actors' call wasn't for two days, Dennis Dun was already there, getting the lay of the land and doing some research on his character.
He'd be playing 'Captain Kwon,' and John didn't have the heart to tell him that any preparation might be too much, considering the level of dignity (or lack thereof) which the part entailed.

On the 17th, the rest of the actors arrived- familiar faces like Buck Flower, Peter Jason, Tom Atkins. Unfortunately, a few of the former principals were unavailable- Jamie Lee Curtis was off shooting pick-ups for FOREVER YOUNG, and Adrienne Barbeau was caught up in a miniseries called THE BURDEN OF PROOF, but on such short notice, John considered that it was to be expected. The most notable newcomer was the actor playing 'Blake.' The original Blake, of course, had been obscured by makeup and shadow and was played by special effects artist Rob Bottin. (When John had called to tell him he'd been 'replaced,' Rob had feigned indignation, and they'd joked around for a bit- but Rob was in the thick of it on a third ROBOCOP movie, so they didn't have a chance to adequately catch up.) The new guy was a fearsome gent whose performance as Philip Marlowe had really struck a chord for John- his name was Powers Boothe, and John was confident that he'd get on famously with the ensemble.

Kurt rolled in a bit late ("Captain Ron time" and all that), but John couldn't grouse too much because another actor was even later than he– "Rowdy" Roddy Piper.
Roddy, who would be playing Captain Ron's brother "Nardo," blew in on the afternoon of the 18th, but then insisted so sincerely that he'd misplaced his daily organizer in the wrong kilt and misremembered the date, that John felt strangely guilty for his premature annoyance.

The first scene they shot was a flashback between Captain Ron and Nardo, and John was immediately unsettled by the odd vocal affectation that Kurt was employing.
"What's with the voice, Kurt?"
"AHHHAAA! What, you don't like it, Johnny? It's Cap'n Ron's voice! Gotta keep it for continuity!"
John looked to Sandy, who shrugged her shoulders. "Continuity," she conceded.
John made something of a half-scowl which slowly transformed into a bemused smile. "This is CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG, after all," he told himself.
"I love the voice!" gushed 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper. "Can I do one, too?"
"Sure, sure," John consented. "Do whatever you want."

John overcame this dangerous initial detachment, and some of the best work thus far had occurred on the second day. It was full of action scenes, and John could settle straight in to the 'pure cinema' aspect of it.
Dennis Dun swished swords and swashed buckles, Powers Boothe looked scary as hell putting 'Rowdy' Roddy into a headlock, and Kurt swung across a deck on a rope like Tarzan. While it wasn't exactly Hawks, he was finding himself embracing the sort of filmmaking that hadn't really been seen since the days of Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone. But he was finding the horror aspect to be somewhat lacking. Attempts at forcing Kurt and Rowdy Roddy to embrace the spirit of the picture and read H.P. Lovecraft's THE SHADOW OVER INNSMOUTH or THE DUNWICH HORROR ended in failure; but he finally convinced them to read THE TERRIBLE OLD MAN, which was only four pages long. The problem was not illiteracy, per sé– it was Kurt's Malibu n' margarita obsession that had now spilled over onto Roddy. These kitschy hi-jinks were not affecting the quality of their performances, John surmised, but they certainly had to be affecting the quality of their leisure time.

7.

8:19 P.M. June 21, 1992. Near Tomales Bay, California.

John left the bar and, lighting up a cigarette, walked down a dirt road toward the marshes at Tomales Bay. Captain Ron's ship, The Wanderer (a Formosa 51 yacht weathered and painted for a vintage look) was docked by the shore.

On deck, he could see Kurt gyrating and boogieing about for an audience comprised of Buck Flower and Roddy Piper. Buck shook dollar bills about in the air and pumped his fists, apparently believing himself to be in attendance at a dogfight. John felt the brisk sea breeze blowing against his face and through his hair. He heard the silly debaucheries in the distance and gentle waters lapping against the smooth hull of the Wanderer. "This," he thought, "is why I do what I do." He stood there for a long time, eyes closed, his idyll uninterrupted... until a booming voice emerged from the empty space beside him.
"Hell of a sunset, isn't it, Carpenter."
John opened his eyes and turned to see Powers Boothe regarding the seascape with reverence.
"Sure is."
"Blake would see it as an invitation. The cold, beckoning finger which wrenches him nightly from a watery grave."
"What do you see it as, Powers?"
"What I see it as isn't worth a tin shit. While I'm here, I'll look like Blake, I'll talk like Blake. I'll think like Blake."
"Maybe you and Blake just have a lot in common."
Powers stared into his eyes with a coldness and precision which chilled him, and then chuckled, smiling.
"I'll see you around, Carpenter."
"Twelve noon, Captain Ron time."
"No..." Powers focused his eyes on a point in the distance. "I'll see you on 'Blake time.'"
"Oh yeah, when's that?"
"ANYTIME...." Powers winked. "Every time... All time..." Powers continued to mutter as he walked off.
John continued to watch the sunset, but with vague trepidation. "It's good," he thought to himself, "to be on one's toes while shooting a horror picture."

8.

10:45 P.M. July 20, 1992. The Lighthouse at Drake's Bay.

The final day of shooting. It had been a real doozy. They'd managed to pack so much into one day already, and yet they still had one final scene to shoot. John reflected on the day's events and the Herculean accomplishments of the cast and crew:

At 11:00 AM, they'd shot Tom Atkins' nude scene. It was a closed set, but Kurt and Roddy had managed to sneak in, and they made noises approximating flatulence throughout by pumping their cupped hands in their armpits, much to John's chagrin. Gary Kibbe, being a pro of the highest degree, got the shots he needed anyway.

At 2:00, they'd shot Buck Flower's big death scene. In the first FOG movie, Buck played a character named 'Tommy Wallace' who had met a grisly, watery end. In the second, he played a character named 'Lee Wallace ('Tommy's' brother) who met a grisly, watery end. "How come you play such a good hobo?" asked Sandy, a few days into the shoot. Buck grinned a terrible grin from behind his unkempt, fleecy whiskers, and suddenly any answer whatsoever would have been entirely redundant.At 5:00, they shot Blake's monologue, which was one of the centerpieces of the script. There'd been a lot of argument about whether or not Blake should actually speak, but as soon as Powers had been cast, the decision was unanimous: to not let him speak would be a crime. Powers nailed it in one take. When John had congratulated him on his excellent work, Powers curiously closed his eyes and inhaled and exhaled with great purpose. Much later, nearly everyone present would claim they had felt an icy chill and seen a green mist curling under the door, despite the fact that all of the fog machines had been safely powered down...

At 7:00, they did the close-ups for the chase scene. The stunt driving was long in the can (shot in late June), but to finish the scene was something special- you see, it involved a 1958 Plymouth Fury (a car quite familiar to fans of CHRISTINE) being driven by Kurt Russell.
Dennis Dun was riding shotgun, and slinging verbal barbs to and fro with Kurt. John figured that Kurt would heartily enjoy getting behind the wheel of a '58 Fury, but he only razzed him for all the ones he'd needlessly destroyed during CHRISTINE. "It wasn't needless," protested John, but Kurt loudly unleashed some witty jeer about "hot roddin' sonsawbitches" which drew the applause of the crew. John couldn't decide whether it was the sheer number of scenes to stage or Kurt's charming insolence which was making the day dawdle so.

At 9:30, they shot a pick-up of buddy-bonding involving Tom, Dennis, Kurt, and a few local volunteers. The scene was pure Hawks, and it was terrific to finally shoot it.
He'd briefed the boys two days earlier at a screening of RIO BRAVO in his hotel room– "He showed us ourselves, the way we area, the way we should be... that's why you gents are pulling together to engage Blake– he already got his revenge, but still he wants more. All you want to do is live self-determining lives. Blake, conversely, is self-obsessed. Blake is chaos. The title may be CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG, but that's not how Hawks would've looked at it. It's not the HIGH NOON model: GARY COOPER VERSUS THE GUNSLINGERS. It's the communal model. The RIO BRAVO model. JOHN WAYNE AND DEAN MARTIN AND RICKY NELSON AND WALTER BRENNAN VERSUS THE OUTLAWS. There's just not room for that on the marquee."

Finally, it was 10:45. Time for the final take of the final scene of the final day. The lighthouse shone ominously in the moonlight. A brisk ocean breeze was blowing into shore.
Kurt, Powers, and Roddy were ready and set. John looked through the camera's eyepiece and nodded to Gary Kibbe. He turned and smiled at Sandy. "This is the martini," Sandy declared to the crew.
"Action!"
Captain Ron dashed up the grated metal steps of the lighthouse, Blake's shadowy presence on his heels. Out of nowhere, Nardo leapt on Blake's back and the beach bum wrestled the wraith quite skillfully, allowing Captain Ron to escape to the lighthouse's roof. Enraged, Blake battled, gained the upper hand, and tossed Nardo down a flight of spiraling stairs, incapacitating him and allowing Blake to proceed to the roof where he could settle his affairs with Captain Ron. Blake glided up to the staircase's end and tore the metal portal from its hinges. Slavering like a wild beast, Blake approached Ron and the camera tracked across to a pair of feet, standing their ground quite stoically. Only they weren't the familiar sand-encrusted flip-flops we'd seen moments before– it was a pair of combat boots tightly tucked with gray camouflage pants. The camera tilted upward to reveal...

TO BE CONTINUED... IN "CARPY & THE CAP'N PART III: SEASON OF THE WITCH"...

Film Review: THEY LIVE (1988, John Carpenter)

Stars: 6 of 5.
Running Time: 93 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: "Rowdy" Roddy Piper (HELL COMES TO FROGTOWN, WALKER-TEXAS RANGER), Keith David (THE THING, REQUIEM FOR A DREAM, MR. ROGERS), George "Buck" Flower (BACK TO THE FUTURE II, ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, MUNCHIE), Peter Jason (PRINCE OF DARKNESS, DEADWOOD), Meg Foster (STEPFATHER II, LEVIATHAN), Raymond St. Jacques (RAWHIDE, FALCON CREST, THE PAWNBROKER), Sy Richardson (REPO MAN, MYSTERY TRAIN). Shot by Gary B. Kibbe (Carpenter's perennial cinematographer and camera op on MELVIN & HOWARD, CONVOY, STAR 80, & SIXTEEN CANDLES).
Tag-line: "Who are they? And what do they want?"
Best one-liner: "You look like your face fell in the cheese dip back in 1957!"

"It figures it'd be somethin' like this." THEY LIVE is not just some 80's sci-fi/action/horror vehicle with mullets and shotguns– it's a powerful, humanist statement on the world that we live in (or should I say, the world that we sleep through). From the very outset, you can see the handiwork of a master filmmaker: the cryptic underground mantra "THEY LIVE" melts away from main title into some inconspicuous graffiti and the camera tracks past a freight train to reveal a lone man, our hero, emerging from this industrial wasteland.

It's 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper, and while he's no Olivier, his reactions throughout the film to the increasingly mind-numbing realities have an earnest, incredulous, down home realism to them. He EARNS every bit of the artistic capital it takes to pull of lines like "I don't like this ONNNE bit!" or "I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass... and I'm all out of bubblegum!"

By the time Piper receives his sunglasses-induced epiphany about our ruling class, I believe that- no joke- this is one of the most important films ever made.


To those who say it's heavy-handed, I ask, have you ever been laid off on your 19th week, so your  boss doesn't have to owe you unemployment? Have you worked alongside men and women who've thrown away thirty-five years or more of their lives, ground themselves down into nothing because they had no other choice, while trust funders live high and fast off the fat of mommy and daddy and the blood of the poor? If only we lived in the world of THEY LIVE; then the unmasking of these people for what they really are could be as simple as destroying a satellite dish or slipping on some rockin' shades.

Carpenter's bold, dystopian vision has about zero deviation from the horrorshow we're all living out here. There's entertainment here, to be sure, but this film has the moxie of a sturdy whack to the guts.

The notorious 6 minute fistfight (between Piper and the electrifying, hot tempered Keith David) is basically a hyper-stylized rehashing of Paul Schrader's BLUE COLLAR, illustrating our inability to connect with one another on the most basic of issues.

And Keith David and Roddy Piper pulled no punches- literally- in this scene, unless said punch involved a face or genitalia:

When the truth is fleetingly broadcast over the airwaves, even the surly homeless man (George "Buck" Flower) razzes the speaker- anyone going against the grain of the media's status quo is intrinsically labeled "disruptive." The System in place is immaculate in its ability to keep people unfocused, fingers perpetually clenched around the wrong throats, and in this day and age, I'm not sure the System can ever be broken. In times like these, levelheadedness can be dangerous- we’ve got to get mad. Every time I see THEY LIVE- I'm going on maybe a dozen viewings now- it never fails to fire me up, and for that I am thankful.

-Sean Gill

P.S. The soundtrack (by Carpenter himself and long-time collaborator Alan Howarth) is fantastic. It's got proletarian twang, oppressive martial undertones, and it's always goddamned catchy. Carpenter sure knows how to lay out an impressively simplistic soundtrack (see also: ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13, ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK).

P.P.S. I also think that you can generally judge the quality of a movie based on how many people in the cast possess genuine nicknames- the sort of nicknames that you always say their entire name, nickname included, like Jeff "Skunk" Baxter. Here, we got "Rowdy" Roddy Piper and George "Buck" Flower, both titans of the genre.

2009 Halloween Countdown

31. PROM NIGHT (1980, Paul Lynch)
30. PHENOMENA (1985, Dario Argento)
29. HOUSE OF WAX (1953, André de Toth)
28. SILENT RAGE (1982, Michael Miller)
27. BASKET CASE (1982, Frank Henenlotter)
26. THE DEADLY SPAWN (1983, Douglas McKeown)
25. PELTS (2006, Dario Argento)
24. ANGEL HEART (1987, Alan Parker)
23. KILLER WORKOUT (1986, David A. Prior)
22. FREDDY'S DEAD: THE FINAL NIGHTMARE (1991, Rachel Talalay)
21. THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971, Robert Fuest)
20. FRANKENHOOKER (1990, Frank Henenlotter)
19. HELLRAISER (1987, Clive Barker)
18. GEEK MAGGOT BINGO (1983, Nick Zedd)
17. ALLIGATOR (1980, Lewis Teague)
16. LIZARD IN A WOMAN'S SKIN (1971, Lucio Fulci)
15. THE CARD PLAYER (2004, Dario Argento)
14. SPASMO (1974, Umberto Lenzi)
13. C.H.U.D. (1984, Douglas Cheek)
12. FRIDAY THE 13TH PART III (1982, Steve Miner)
11. SWAMP THING (1982, Wes Craven)
10. DIARY OF THE DEAD (2008, George A. Romero)
9. THE LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM (1988, Ken Russell)
8. PIECES (1982, Juan Piquer Simón)
7. THE NEW YORK RIPPER (1982, Lucio Fulci)
6. MOTHER OF TEARS (2008, Dario Argento)
5. THE CHANGELING (1980, Peter Medak)
4. FREDDY'S GREATEST HITS (1987, The Elm Street Group): PART 1
3. FREDDY'S GREATEST HITS (1987, The Elm Street Group): PART 2
2. THEY LIVE (1988, John Carpenter)
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