Jean Rollin 1938-2010

In the pantheon of horror directors, there are those whose names only become known to a relatively small yet fervent cult of followers. There are also those whose work transcends the narrow category in which it would seem to have been relegated--it becomes much more than that, especially to those in the aforementioned group. Jean Rollin was one of these. Controversial, possibly misunderstood, yet always intriguing; he and his work have long fascinated fans of exploitation horror. Yet now, it is only his work that remains, as Jean Rollin himself passed away Wednesday at the age 0f 72, after a long illness.

I first came across his work the way I think many fans did, via the bizarre yet beautiful 1978 zombie flick The Grapes of Death--known in his native France as Les Raisins de la Mort. Unusual, beguiling, and rightfully described by many as dreamlike, it remains in my opinion one of the all-time underrated horror films. There is much of Argento in it, or perhaps it is more accurate to say that there is some Rollin in much of Argento's work. I will not endeavor here to put him in the same category as the Italian master of the giallo, but he certainly deserves a lot more credit than he really got.

Of course, much of the Rollin stigma derived from the subgenre of what some might call "Euro-sleaze" that he spent much of his career working in. Softcore (and in some cases, even hardcore) pornography, mixed with horror, is certainly not everyone's cup of tea--especially amongst the mainstream movie-going public (at least in what they'd comfortably admit). Rollin was not always picky with what he worked on, only that he kept working. But we can forget titles like Sodomania or Anal Madness (although that's undeniably a hard title to forget), thanks to memorable films like Fascination (1979), Demoniacs (1973), Lips of Blood (1974), and of course, Living Dead Girl (1982).

"Euro-sleaze" though much of it may be, one cannot deny that it transcends such a limiting stigma. There is true eroticism to his work, mixed with creeping terror, and he achieves a somnambulistic sublimity on occasion that even the most jaded critic would have to acknowledge. While he may not have been among the giants of horror cinema, it is also not hard to understand why his work has accumulated such a loyal following. You will simply not find films like Grapes of Death being made today, and that is a real shame.

Rollin was passionate about film, looking for any way into the business, even going back to his teenage years in France during the 1950s. By age 15, he was writing screenplays, and by 16 he had already taken his first job doing menial work for a local studio. This led him eventually to directing--first documentaries and industrial films, and finally telling the stories he wanted to tell.

He began his sojourn into horror in 1968 with The Rape of the Vampire, already setting the tone for the rest of his career, blending sexuality and the macabre with aplomb. And yes, as the years wore on, he began to take on more questionable projects, veering beyond the erotic and into the pornographic, which he admitted arose sheerly out of the need to keep working. And so work he did, and he can hardly be faulted for that. The man continued making movies right through the 1990s, and was in the midst of a comeback as of late that include The Night of the Clocks (2007) and the forthcoming Mask of Medusa.

We've lost one of the most interesting figures in the history of European horror this week. I will always identify him with The Grapes of Death first and foremost, as I think many American fans might--and I encourage anyone who hasn't seen it to honor the memory of Jean Rollin by checking it out. It really is one of the most unique films in the entire zombie subgenre, and will give you a greater understanding of the man whose work must now live on in his place.

The Many Faces of Ingrid Pitt

The Shadow of Samhain: Reverence for Death in the Old World and Beyond

Death. It is perhaps mankind's greatest source of fear. And it's been linked directly to Halloween since the very beginning. This time in The Shadow of Samhain, I bring you a guest post from the most excellent Christine Hadden of Fascination with Fear... Christine has put together this fascinating and very thought-provoking meditation on the many connections between the Halloween/Samhain season and our eternal obsession with death and the afterlife. I hope you enjoy it as much I did...

Halloween, previous to all the current retail obsession with candy, costumes and horror movies, was long known as Samhain, and still is. The traditions and established practices of modern day pagans and non-pagans alike have been culled from centuries of folklore and beliefs involving what happens to us after we die and how we choose to celebrate and remember those whom we have lost. Old world religions that pre-date Christianity are most certainly the basis for the second most popular holiday of the modern age. Death, in essence remembering those who have died, is the sole reason the holiday was revered so much in the first place. It is believed, even today, that Samhain is the one night in which the veil between the living and dead is the thinnest.

The Festival of the Dead is most widely recognized as a Mexican holiday which begins at midnight on November 1. It is a spiritual holiday which honors the dead with a great day of celebration. On November 2, El Dia de los Muertos begins (quite literally The Day of the Dead). Religious Christians label the day All Souls Day, but it has different meanings all over the world. People across the globe, with their various religions and beliefs, hold these two days sacred as a time to remember those we have lost.

While in Mexico many people believe that the dead truly do walk again come the first day of November, elsewhere others do their best to coax the dead from their silent graves, if only to see them perhaps at least once a year. Candles are placed in the windows to light the way for the dead to return, food and gifts are laid out to welcome them back to the realm of the living, ritual “dumb suppers” are held--meals ate completely in silence to honor the dead and hope that their deceased loved ones return for one night. Usually an extra place setting is laid out, as well as food, for the lost souls of the dead.

Old Gaelic traditions claim that all the souls in Purgatory are released on the evening of All Hallows Eve. They are supposedly free to walk amongst the living for two days but then are sent back to wherever it is they came from. And some traditions hold that if you hear footsteps behind you on Halloween night, you aren’t to turn around lest you will die if you look into their eyes. There is a magnitude of folklore and old tall tales surrounding the mystery of Samhain--enough that entire books have been written. Obviously there is much more curiosity about death and its connection to Halloween than many folks--particularly Christian bible-thumper types--will admit to.

In pagan religions, in particular some Wiccan traditions, it is believed that the Horned God (not Satan, but the male counterpart to Mother Nature, if you will) passes into the Land of the Dead on Samhain night, only to be reborn at Winter Solstice. (Hmm….sounds familiar, no?) Modern witches and pagans have great reverence for the last day of October, it being their most important holiday in the wheel of the year. Death itself is seen as only the beginning--as they believe in reincarnation. The cycle of life continues.

Though it may seem like Americans may balk at these worldwide beliefs and practices, think again. Americans have long had an undying hunger for more knowledge about death and other things we cannot understand. Take Houdini’s widow, for instance. Back in the mid-twenties, after his death, she held a séance every Halloween for ten years, hoping he would contact her from his otherworldly resting place. Alas, he did not. But it didn’t make anyone any less enamored with the belief that at some point, that veil would be thin enough for someone to break through.

Why else would tons of people flock to cemeteries or abandoned houses…just for a possible glimpse into the realm beyond? Our obsession with the after-life certainly hasn’t slowed down any in recent years, and shows no sign of stopping. But a reflection back on the reasons why the holiday of Samhain is so important would be a great way to start a celebration of Halloween.

Kevin McCarthy 1914-2010

He would rise to national fame as a breakout performer in a classic piece of American drama, and yet his true legacy would eventually find its origin in one of the most influential genre B-movies of all time. In 1951, the striking, lantern-jawed Kevin McCarthy turned heads in the role of Biff Loman, playing alongside the great Fredric March in the landmark screen adaptation of Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman. It seemed his course had been laid. But destiny had other plans for Mr. McCarthy, and a mere three years later he would star in the film that would quickly trump Salesman as the one for which he'd be forever known.

The image of a raving mad McCarthy sprinting down Main Street, USA, warning anyone who would listen about the insidious pod people who had infiltrated the planet--this is one of the enduring moments in the history of cinematic horror. And Cold War knee-jerk propaganda though it may be, it also does what all great propaganda does--it resonates. Deeply. Invasion of the Body Snatchers is the kind of film that gnaws at fears deep inside us, fears we dare not even admit to having. And a large part of what makes it work is Kevin McCarthy and his unforgettable performance.

Kevin McCarthy is no longer with us, having passed away on Saturday of pneumonia at the age of 96. He leaves behind many, many fans who will always remember him as the leading man-style actor who became a cult movie favorite; the kind of actor who was wise enough to know that there are no parts beneath a performer unless he treats them that way.

I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. McCarthy some ten years ago at New Jersey's Chiller Theatre convention, and I can honestly say that there are few celebrities I have ever encountered who were as friendly, as warm, and as appreciative of his fans as he was. He was a man who lived for his work, and who was never happy unless he had some projects lined up--which is attested to by the fact that he continued to appear on screen right up to the end.

Made an orphan at the age of four thanks to the great influenza pandemic of 1918, McCarthy was raised by his grandparents, aunts and uncles in Minneapolis, Minnesota. After considering a career in diplomacy, he decided to pursue acting instead, and came to New York in the late 1930s to attend the world-famous Actors' Studio.

By the time he was offered the role of Biff in Columbia Pictures' Stanley Kramer-produced Salesman film, McCarthy was already an established actor on Broadway and radio. He had the looks, he certainly had the talent, and it seemed like stardom was his for the taking. And in a way it would be, just perhaps not in the way his Actors' Studio instructors would have envisioned.

And yet, it took years following his unforgettable turn as Dr. Miles Bennell, Body Snatchers' beleaguered voice of reason, for McCarthy to embrace his most well-known film, and set about becoming a genre legend. He continued to do quite a bit of television and mainstream film, including The Misfits--the legendary teaming of Clark Gable and Marilyn Monroe that became Gable's last movie.

By the 1970s, with "genre culture" going mainstream following the rise to maturity of an entire generation that had grown up on films like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, McCarthy found a great deal of opportunity available to him thanks to the recognition he had gained from appearing in that movie. By then pushing 60, he was more than happy to enjoy the rewards, and started appearing in more and more horror and sci-fi projects, including notably, Joe Dante's original Piranha, in which he played the mad scientist who unleashes the flesh-eating fish. He even enjoyed a cameo in the 1978 remake of Body Snatchers.

This would be followed with more such work in the '80s and beyond, in movies that would permanently cement Kevin McCarthy as a star in the cult actor firmament, including The Howling, Invitation to Hell, Innerspace, and of course, who can forget his turn as the unbearably obnoxious heavy in Weird Al Yankovic's magnum opus, UHF?

McCarthy continued to work in front of the camera right up until this year, by which point he had also become one of the most beloved guests of the genre convention circuit, following decades of appearances. His body of work is as interesting as it is far-reaching, and it's no wonder that he has the loyal following he does. This week, those followers mourn the loss of one of the great ones. The Vault of Horror respectfully dims the torchlight for the one and only, Kevin McCarthy...

Dennis Hopper 1936-2010

He was one of the most revered actors of our times, known to moviegoers for his iconic turns in such films as Easy Rider, Apocalypse Now, Blue Velvet, True Romance and Hoosiers. And yet horror fans can also take pride that this respected figure in Hollywood, one of the most "legit" performers of the past 40 years, was also a part of two of the most beloved horror franchises of the past 40 years: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and George Romero's Living Dead series. Last Saturday, Hopper passed away after a quiet eight-year battle with prostate cancer, just 12 days past his 74th birthday.

Hopper was a key part of a very crucial, transformative period in American film making. After a career as a child actor on the stage, he burst on the scene in the 1950s, part of the early wave of post-World War II method actors that washed over Hollywood. Still a teen, he found early success in westerns on TV and the big screen, and fell in with James Dean's circle, appearing with the legendary, ill-fated actor in Rebel Without a Cause and Giant.

But even early on, Hopper was what we might politely call "eccentric", making scenes on-set and quickly gaining a rep for being difficult, culminating in being banned from the MGM lot by the lord of all movie moguls, Louis B. Mayer, after a very heated argument over the young actor's desire to play Shakespearean roles. By the '60s, the young man who had once been one of the last of Hollywood's traditional contract players began taking chances with edgier, independent cinema.

This meant working with grindhouse icon Roger Corman, and it also meant dabbling in horror. In 1961, he made his horror debut with Night Tide, a quirky picture about a guy who falls in love with a girl who turns out to be a killer mermaid. He starred in the 1963 Twilight Zone episode "He's Alive", about Nazis operating in the United States. Three years later, he appeared alongside genre faves John Saxon and Basil Rathbone in the AIP alien vampire flick Queen of Blood.

During the '60s, Hopper went from potential teenage matinee idol to part of a burgeoning counterculture movement within Hollywood, which culminated in 1969 with Easy Rider, the film he directed, which literally altered the American film landscape overnight. Hopper, no doubt bitter over previous treatment, was one of those who eagerly danced on the grave of "old Hollywood," once famously declaring at a dinner party to Gone with the Wind co-director George Cukor, "We are going to bury you!"

But although Hopper was undoubtedly part of the movement that transitioned cinema into the "modern era", his own personal demons--including substance addiction--prevented him from following through on his early promise as well as he and others would've liked. He reinvigorated his career to a degree by the end of the '70s with an unforgettable supporting part in Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now, but his star had unquestionably fallen.

It might not have been what he most wanted to be doing, but as he attempted to piece his career back together on the comeback trail, Hopper wasn't above returning to his genre roots. He most notably did so in 1986 for Tobe Hooper's long-awaited Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, in which he played police lieutenant Lefty Enright, uncle of the original film's Sally and Franklin, out for vengeance against Leatherface and the gang. Despite Hopper citing the film as the worst he was ever in, it is his best-remembered horror role, and directly preceded the film that put the exclamation point on the Hopper comeback, David Lynch's Blue Velvet.

Into the 1990s and beyond, Dennis Hopper continued taking on the occasional genre role--often to his detriment in films like Super Mario Bros. and the infamous Waterworld. He starred in the 1994 HBO film Witch Hunt, in which he played a private detective named H. Phillip Lovecraft (!) operating in an alternate-reality 1950s in which everyone practices magic. Eight years later, he appeared with Lance Henriksen in the poorly received, low-budget thriller Unspeakable.

But Hopper would turn a lot of heads with his final horror appearance, in George Romero's 2005 big-budget return to the zombie genre, Land of the Dead. Despite his paradoxical real-life Republican affiliations, Hopper gleefully parodied George W. Bush and Donald Rumsfeld with the villainous part of Kaufman, unscrupulous owner of Fiddler's Green, a tiny enclave of humanity amidst a world overrun by the dead. Also featuring Simon Baker and John Leguizamo, the film was Romero's first studio-backed zombie film--the first to feature marquee actors--and Hopper's name on the bill undoubtedly helped raise the project's profile.

Dennis Lee Hopper was a true original and a Hollywood trailblazer who wasn't afraid to take chances (sometimes by necessity) and shake up the status quo. Along the way, this brilliant actor and filmmaker left his indelible mark on the history of cinema, from his mainstream dramatic performances, to the genre appearances horror fans will particularly cherish in their hearts.

Frank Frazetta 1928-2010

In the realm of fantasy art, there is one name among 20th century practitioners that towers above the rest: Frazetta. And as of today, that name refers not to a living, breathing member of the art community, but to a legend of the past, a great master who will only live on in his work. Because Frank Frazetta passed away this morning in a hospital in Pennsylvania, leaving behind one of the most impressive collections of pop illustrations ever assembled, and a following of fans and artists who have been influenced by his amazing talent.

Frazetta is best known to genre fans for the breathtaking fantasy and adventure book covers he created, starting in the late 1960s, of characters like Conan, Tarzan and John Carter of Mars; as well as for the many Creepy, Eerie and Vampirella covers he painted for Warren Publications during that same period. He was a giant in the world of comic book art as well, with a resume that included EC Comics, DC (then known as National Periodicals) and more.

His original destiny seemed to have put him on a path to becoming more of a fine artist, having been groomed by the Italian painter Michael Falanga while studying at the Academy of Fine Arts in his native Brooklyn, New York as a teenager. But that destiny was derailed when Falanga died unexpectedly in 1944, leaving the young Frazetta to take whatever work he could get.

The loss to the high-brow world of fine art would be a gain for the low-brow world of pop art, in the form of a formidable new visionary. After working in comics during the 1950s on such titles as Famous Funnies (for which he did Buck Rogers covers) and in comic strips working on Lil' Abner with the renowned Al Capp and Flash Gordon with Dan Barry, Frazetta was discovered by Hollywood and began making serious money doing movie posters. He would eventually do posters for such films as What's New Pussycat (1965), The Secret of My Success (1965), Hammer's The Fearless Vampire Killers (1967) and Rankin Bass' Mad Monster Party (1969).

The poster work put him on the map, and helped expose his prodigious abilities to the world. From then on, Frazetta would find steady work doing a consistent stream of paintings in both oil and watercolor, many of which would be used for fantasy, adventure and horror paperbacks. His imaginative approach to the subject matter is credited with having a direct effect on the development of the visual aspect of the sword and sorcery subgenre, which enjoyed something of a renaissance during the 1970s.

Countless artists from the 1970s and onward would be directly inspired by the unmistakable Frazetta style, including the likes of Boris Vallejo and Jeff Jones. His continued book cover work, as well as the eye-catching material he was producing for Warren Publications' line of magazine-sized horror comics, helped create a very grim, rugged and decidedly masculine aesthetic that redefined fantasy art.

Beyond his commercial work, Frazetta was also able to produce many completely independent oil and watercolor paintings, amassing a great collection of works coveted by collectors everywhere. Many of them have even been used as album covers by bands such as Nazareth and Molly Hatchet.

Over the last decade, the aging Frazetta had suffered a series of strokes that prevented him from using his hand to paint, leading him to teach himself to paint with the other. He established a small museum to showcase his personal collection of work on the grounds of his 67-acre estate in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania, and was the subject of a 2003 documentary entitled Frank Frazetta: Painting with Fire.

Were it not for Frazetta, there are many fantasy, science fiction and horror illustrators who might not even be plying their craft today, at least not using their talents to explore the subject matter they do. As much as any writer of tales, or maker of movies, Frank Frazetta helped build the modern look and feel of fantasy adventure as we now know it. His unique vision is something to be treasured by fans of speculative fiction and film the world over.

Corey Haim 1971-2010

A last fire will rise behind those eyes,

Black house will rock, blind boys don't lie.
Immortal fear, that voice so clear,
Through broken walls, that scream I hear.

Cry, little sister - Thou shall not fall.
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die.
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear.
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill.

Blue masquerade, strangers look on,
When will they learn this loneliness?
Temptation heat beats like a drum,
Deep in your veins, I will not lie.

Deeply tragic news this morning, particularly for children of the '80s. Corey Haim, one of the most popular Generation X teen heartthrobs, has died of an apparent drug overdose. Sadly, Haim's life seemed to be one of suffering, both from the damage of the substances he put into his body, and also the catastrophic effects of the well-worn path trod by so many child stars whose light fades as they pass into full adulthood.

Corey is best known to horror fans for his roles in Silver Bullet (1985) and especially The Lost Boys (1987), in which he co-starred with fellow '80s teen idol Corey Feldman. That latter film was perhaps the highlight of his entire career--an edgy vampire comedy adored by virtually anyone who enjoys '80s horror. For a certain generation, that movie is legendary--and because of it, Haim will always be fondly remembered.

The sad part of this is that, despite his well-publicized personal problems, Haim appeared to working hard to get his career back on track. Following some recent reality TV appearances that raised him back into the public spotlight, he had begun working more often again, and according to IMDb, currently has an astounding nine projects either in the can or in pre-production, waiting to be released.

On a personal note, there was a certain period in the late 1980s and early 1990s, during which Corey Haim's smiling baby-face was an ever-present image in my home. You see, my little sister was one of those girls with the Tiger Beat and Bop posters all over the wall. In fact, if memory serves, Corey Haim was her very first celebrity crush. And so, in some weird way, hearing the news of his passing this morning felt like a bit of my youth being ripped away.

Like so many child stars before him, Corey Haim has finally found the peace that eluded him for so long in life. What a horrible pity.



Some others mourning the loss of Corey Haim this morning:
Basement Screams
Bloody-Disgusting
Brutal as Hell
Cinematical
Day of the Woman
HorrorBid
Horror Society
I Like Horror Movies
Slammed & Damned

Zelda Rubinstein 1933-2010

Zelda Rubinstein was not an actress whose career was enmeshed in the horror genre, and yet the entire horror community is currently mourning her passing with deep sadness. This is because Ms. Rubinstein brought to life one of the most beloved and identifiable supporting characters in horror movie history--the tiny medium Tangina Barrons from Poltergeist, whose trademark line "Don't go into the light" is right up there with "We all go a little mad sometimes," "They're coming to get you, Barbara," and "Here's Johnny!"

She reprised the role in both of the later Poltergeist sequels--the only character to do so besides little Carol Anne herself, portrayed by the late Heather O'Rourke. Zelda will forever live in our memories, a true horror movie icon just by virtue of this one unforgettable part--the gentle, diminutive psychic who aided the Freeling family in taking their little girl back from the clutches of the Beast.

She got her start in movies playing in the obscure 1981 comedy Under the Rainbow, in which she portrayed one of the Munchkins from the Wizard of Oz. She was a regular on the critically acclaimed 1990s TV series Picket Fences with Tom Skerritt, and ironically her last film appearance would be in a horror film, as well--2006's Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon. Fun fact: She returned to the role of Tangina for a cameo in the 1995 Casper movie (as did Dan Akroyd as ghostbuster Ray Stantz), but her scene was unfortunately left on the cutting room floor.

Ms. Rubinstein suffered a heart attack late last year, and had been in grave condition ever since. Her family took her off life support some weeks ago, and yesterday she finally succumbed at the age of 76.

Requiescant in Pace 2009: Part 2

Jane Randolph


David Carradine


Clayton "Sweater Zombie" Hill


Vic Mizzy (composer)


Edward Woodward


Dan O'Bannon (director, screenwriter)

Requiescant in Pace 2009: Part 1

Ray Dennis Steckler (producer/director/screenwriter)


Charles H. Schneer (producer)


John Updike (writer)


James Whitmore


Maurice Jarre (composer)


Andy Hallett


Marilyn Chambers

VAULT VLOG: Whose Death Affected YOU the Most?

Dan O'Bannon 1946-2009

"A writer can't scare a reader unless that writer scares himself or herself first. So, you can't excite anyone in the audience unless you're excited writing the script! You're taking yourself for a ride before you take the audience for a ride!"

If you're not instantly familiar with the name Dan O'Bannon, you should be. This is the man who wrote Alien--not just a great sci-fi/horror film, but the sci-fi/horror film. This is the man who wrote and directed The Return of the Living Dead, not just a great horror comedy, but the horror comedy. The same man is responsible for both of these absolutely pivotal movies/franchises. Oh yeah, and he also wrote the scripts for Lifeforce and Total Recall, just in case his resume needed a little extra boosting.

And now, the man who did all those things is no longer with us, having passed away last night after a short illness at the sadly young age of 63.

From a personal perspective, I can tell you that were it not for ROTLD, I very well might not be the horror fanatic I am today. As a kid, I already had a solid grounding in Universal and Hammer, but it was O'Bannon's brilliant zombie comedy that put me over the top as an obsessed lifelong fan of the macabre. Without Dan O'Bannon, there might very well have been no Vault of Horror. Less than a fraction of a drop in the bucket in the grand scheme of things, to be sure--but I thank him for that.

O'Bannon had a somewhat sparse career, but what he chose to be associated with over the years is so impressive. Definitely a case of quality over quantity. He went to USC with none other than John Carpenter, collaborating with him on both of their debuts, the sci-fi comedy Dark Star (1974). He was on board for the earliest days of George Lucas' Industrial Light & Magic--you know those computer-generated Death Star blueprints, and the stop-motion game pieces Chewie & R2 use in Star Wars? Yeah, he worked on that.

He was also a writer of science fiction and horror in print as well as film, contributing occasionally to the landmark illustrated magazine Heavy Metal. In fact, two of his stories were adapted in the 1981 Heavy Metal movie, including the one about zombie pilots in World War II (figures!). In the '70s, he was attached as a writer to one of the most legendary cinematic missed opportunities, Alejandro Jodorowsky's adaptation of Dune. Although the project never happened, it did acquaint O'Bannon with H.R. Giger, the man who would design the title character of his most famous script.

What came out of the failed Dune for O'Bannon was the chance to script what would become Ridley Scott's masterpiece, Alien. So I guess we can't be too disappointed. You don't need me to tell you what a brilliant screenplay O'Bannon crafted for that picture, one whose influence continues to be felt to this day. He took the established haunted house/slasher motifs, and bonded them to a sci-fi template in a way no one had before. The closest prior comparison might be Forbidden Planet, but that was obviously pre-slasher. In the wake of Star Wars, he showed us the darker, grimmer side of sci-fi.

Nor do you need me to tell you what a minor miracle he pulled off with ROTLD. A movie called The Return of the Living Dead, based on a half-cocked attempt by John Russo to capitalize on the cult popularity of his previous work with George Romero, had no right whatsoever to be any good at all. Yet once O'Bannon took over, in his one great directorial turn, he transformed it into what I can say in all confidence is a terrific piece of film-making, justly revered among genre fans, but worth a look for any lover of film. It's a solid piece of work that gets better every time I watch it. Hell, it was so good it totally overshadowed Romero's own Day of the Dead, which came out at the same time!

So I'll be remembering Dan O'Bannon today, one of the key people who made me the fan I am. I hope you will, too.

Edward Woodward 1930-2009

The great English star of stage and screen, Edward Albert Arthur Woodward OBE, passed on this morning at the age of 79. For many, he might have been known as the star of The Equalizer, a late 1980s private detective TV series (on which my great uncle appeared a bunch of times as an extra). But to horror fans, and fans of genre cinema in general, he will always be known as the self-righteous Scottish policeman Sgt. Howie, star of the ultimate cult classic, The Wicker Man.

Aside from the 1973 masterpiece, Woodward did little else in the genre--a minor 1970 flick called Incense of the Damned, with Peter Cushing and Patrick Macnee, being a rare exception. Yet, for most us, his iconic performance in The Wicker Man is more than enough to cement him amongst the immortals of horror film history. Clicking on the picture below will take you to video of the infamous closing scene of the film--one of the most harrowing and truly horrifying endings to a fright flick you will ever see. Alongside Christopher Lee, Woodward gave one of the finest lead performances in a horror movie, ever. Let's remember him today.

Vic Mizzy 1916-2009

The composer of this, one of the most recognizable TV theme songs of all time, passed away on Saturday. God love these old-school songwriters. We're really missing something without them...

Clayton "Sweater Zombie" Hill 1931-2009

You may not have known his name. But chances are, you knew that face over there. Especially if you were any halfway decent horror fan who hasn't been living in a cave for the past 30 years. Clayton Hill was better known to all of us as "Sweater Zombie" (or occasionally "Escalator Zombie") from the original Dawn of the Dead--and it bums me out tonight to report that he is no longer with us.

Hill was one of the "star zombies" in George Romero's triumphant classic, appearing alongside his wife Sharon Ceccatti, better known as "Nurse Zombie" (YES, they were married). He died Saturday night of complications from pneumonia, according to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. He was 78.

Hill got his first taste of the horror business in Dawn of the Dead. Ol' George just saw something in that face that would make him perfect to portray one of his most prominently featured ghouls. He would appear in a handful of films after that, including Hellraiser III (1992). He had just finished working on two films made in the Pittsburgh area, End Game and River of Darkness, co-starring with fellow Pittsburgher and former Olympic gold medalist/WWE Superstar Kurt Angle, as well as fellow iconic former zombie Bill Hinzeman (the graveyard ghoul from Night of the Living Dead).

Prior to his work in movies, Hill had spent more than 20 years in the Air Force. But after leaving that world to escape the stress, he took some acting classes at the Pittsburgh Playhouse. Doing some operatta work in Pittsburgh (Hill was a gifted singer since childhood), he and his wife eventually crossed paths with another local luminary, George Romero, who was more than happy to give them their first movie roles as "star zombies" in his long-awaited "Living Dead" sequel in 1978. In addition to appearing on-screen as that pathetic, wide-eyed revenant trying so hard to get up that escalator, Hill also served on-set as the weapons handler for the film, thanks to his military background.

The experience led Hill and his wife to start their own casting company, and later to continue to work in the business as location scouts. In recent years, they were fixtures on the horror convention circuit.

You may not have known his name, but you do now. Rest in Peace, Mr. Hill, one of horror's most memorable zombies.

David Carradine 1936-2009

In a shocking turn of events, the moviegoing public is mourning the unexpected loss of second-generation actor David Carradine, who was reportedly found dead in his hotel room yesterday. He appears to have hanged himself.

Carradine was a prolific actor, having appeared in literally hundreds of TV shows and movies over the past 45 years. He was best known as Kwai Chang Caine, a.k.a. "Grasshopper" on the hit early '70s show Kung Fu, which many point to as kicking off the American martial arts obsession of that decade.

No one would accuse Carradine of being the most discriminating in his work choices, as he was known to mix up praiseworthy appearances in films like Mean Streets and Kill Bill with decidedly lesser pictures. Amongst his massive body of work were appearances in genre films such as Dead & Breakfast (2004), Children of the Corn V: Fields of Terror (1998), Waxwork II: Lost in Time (1992), Evil Toons (1992), Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat (1990) and The Bad Seed (1985).

David Carradine was the son of John Carradine, a Universal stock player of the 1930s and 1940s who appeared in everything from The Invisible Man to The Bride of Frankenstein, and became famous for portraying Count Dracula in such films as House of Frankenstein, House of Dracula and Billy the Kid vs. Dracula.

Jane Randolph 1915-2009

A B-movie staple of the 1940s, Jane Randolph passed away last month in Switzerland, where she had resided most of her time since retiring from the business after marrying in 1949.

Born Jane Roermer, the Ohio native moved to Hollywood two years after graduating high school in order to pursue a career in the movies. RKO Studios picked her up in 1942 and began using her often in its film noir and horror productions.

That year, she played the supporting female role in Val Lewton's landmark film Cat People. As Alice Moore, Randolph played the "other woman" Kent Smith's character turns to due to his wife's bizarre tendency to transform into a vicious panther when sexually aroused. She reprised the role, this time featured more prominently, in the 1944 sequel, The Curse of the Cat People.

In 1948, Randolph appeared alongside the likes of Bud Abbott, Lou Costello, Bela Lugosi and Lon Chaney Jr. as Joan Raymond in the seminal horror comedy Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein. This would prove to be her final film, as she wound up marrying Spanish producer Jaime del Amo and retired, as many actresses did in those days.

She spent her remaining years mingling with high society in Spain, and in later years splitting her time between Los Angeles and Switzerland. Jane Roermer passed away on May 4, following complications from hip surgery. She was 93.

Happy Birthday to the Undisputed King of Horror

On this date in 1911, in St. Louis, Missouri, one Vincent Leonard Price Jr. entered this mortal plane. For my money, there had never been before, nor has there been since, an actor who more naturally and effortlessly epitomized the horror genre like he did. The world was quite literally made a better place for his being in it, and even though he left us nearly 16 years ago, the body of work that remains will continue to thrill lovers of Grand Guignol for generations to come. Thank you, Mr. Price for populating our nightmares with your brilliant performances, and making sure we never forget how important it is to smile once in a while, even when you're being scared out of your wits...

Dom Deluise 1933-2009

It saddens me deeply today to report that the truly gifted funnyman Dom Deluise has died at the age of 75, according to TMZ.

Yeah, I know this has little do with horror. OK, the guy was in Haunted Honeymoon, and his last movie will be Horrorween, due out in October--how's that? Besides, in the words of my illustrious colleague BJ-C--my blog, my rules.

This one gets to me because I have a personal connection with the man. Growing up on 67th Street and 12th Avenue in Dyker Heights, Brooklyn, we lived literally around the corner from Mr. Deluise's mother, Vincenza.

I can still remember as clear as day the time I first met him. He was visiting his mom, and I had to be only about six or so. There he was, sprawled out on a lawn chair on the front stoop in classic Brooklyn fashion, his trademark smile and beret in full effect. My mom and I stopped to say hi, and he was pleased to talk to us. He was also more than happy to sign an autograph when my mom asked for one.

"Mommy," I asked innocently, "Why do we want him to sign that paper for us? What's that for?"

My mom chuckled nervously, and Mr. Deluise stopped in mid-autograph and broke into a deep, heartfelt belly laugh.

"Humor me, kid," he said. "I like to write!"

Coincidentally, it also happened that Mr. Deluise was a close friend of my great uncle's long-time ladyfriend--in fact, the two had started out in show business together in the 1950s. Although she too has long since passed, I'll never forget the anecdote she once told over a lively Italian-American Christmas dinner. She recalled to all of us the time she was getting ready for a show backstage with him, watching him shave in the mirror.

"You know something," he said to her, dead serious as he passed the razor across his face. "I'm gonna be a really big star some day."

On behalf of millions, Mr. Deluise, let me say that we are grateful your dream came true. Rest in peace.

Marilyn Chambers 1952-2009

Although it may not have been her best-known work, David Cronenberg's 1977 zombie chiller Rabid was undoubtedly the most mainstream piece of work on the infamous resume of Marilyn Ann Briggs, a.k.a. Marilyn Chambers, who was found dead yesterday in her trailer home of as-yet-undetermined causes.

Her most well-known work would have to be Behind the Green Door, the 1972 film that made her the very first bona fide superstar of the exploding adult movie industry--ironically mere months after she had appeared as a model for Ivory Snow detergent.

Interestingly, it wasn't Cronenberg who wanted her for the starring role of Rose in his second motion picture. Cronenberg wanted Sissy Spacek, who had just kicked ass in the starring role of Brian DePalma's Carrie. But it was producer Ivan Reitman who instead suggested Ms. Chambers, to give the flick more sex appeal. And you thought porn was mainstream today!