Will Viharo's Blog, page 5

Forbidden Tiki Drive-In: "The Odds Against" starring Robert Viharo

Welcome to Forbidden Island's Tiki Drive-In! Precious gem unearthed: the 16mm reel of "The Odds Against"Last Monday, June 18, I hosted a special Forbidden Thrills @ Forbidden Island "Tiki Drive-In Show" in the popular tiki lounge's back lot, featuring films from the incredible 16mm collection of my pal Sci-Fi Bob Ekman, who has been putting on his own Psychotronix film festivals for two decades now. We've worked together a lot over the years, but this gig was something special. In addition to a trailer reel, Bambi Meets Godzilla, and the feature film Horror of Party Beach (1963) - which I've shown a few times - this was most significantly the world re-premiere of my father "Hey, that's not Mom!" Pop with Marisa Mell in "Stuntman"
(suffering for his art...;)After this, Pop appeared as "The Director" alongside Patty Duke and Susan Hayward in Valley of the Dolls (1967); next as a Mexican revolutionary gunslinger alongside Yul Brynner, Charles Bronson, and Robert Mitchum in Villa Rides! (1968); then as the lead swingin' dick in the Italian action flick Stuntman (1968), co-starring Euro sex sirens Gina Lollobrigida and Marissa Mell. Mixed in during this period were lots of TV guest shots (including Dark Shadows and The Mod Squad), live stage, and much more until he retired in the 2000s to pursue his own artistic agenda. He currently lives in New Mexico with his wife Paige. I just sent a copy of The Odds Against to them. Pop's never even seen it, and I never even heard of it until Sci-Fi Bob dug it up, noticing a familiar face in a collector's catalogue, then jumping on the bid. Here's to Bob! Sci-Bob Ekman sets up his 16mm projectors My "It Came From Hangar 18" co-conspirator Scott Fulks and Thrill Seeker #1
Larry Kakos showing off their official Thrillville fezes

Anyway, in case you missed it, which odds are you did, here is a virtual replication of the Tiki Drive-In Show. Dig. Cheers.
THE ODDS AGAINST (complete film, 22 minutes)BAMBI MEETS GODZILLA
THE HORROR OF PARTY BEACH (trailer)
NEXT in Forbidden Thrills at Forbidden Island,Monday, July 23, 8pm, no cover: All 12 chapters of the classic serial THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN MARVEL (1941)
NOW AVAILABLE: BACHELOR PAD MAGAZINE #20 featuring my regular movie column, but who cares? ORDER YOURS NOW!
Also available for pre-order: BACHELOR PAD MAGAZINE'S SPECIAL ALL-NUDE "NIGHTCAP" EDITION A one-shot celebratory issue featuring my all new Vic Valentine, Private Eye Story "Private Dick, Public Enemy," and much more, coming later this summer!

"The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of"

FINALLY!I look back at the past week like it was a long dream, and in fact, it was. A dream come true. A series of dreams, in fact. Dreams delayed, though the dues were paid. Many of my lifelong career ambitions were validated almost simultaneously, and I celebrated the anniversary of the most important day of my life, personally speaking, right before I embarked on possibly the second most significant day of my life, at least from a professional point of view.
And we bought a new car, totally unplanned. But That's Life.

These pictures tell most of the story, and to be honest, I have a screenplay to write, or rather, rewrite. As recently reported, justly celebrated actor Christian Slater contacted me not long ago regarding his planned movie of my novel Love Stories Are Too Violent For Me, which he optioned right before my wedding to Monica, Tiki Goddess. Ironically, we just celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary this past May 31 with delicious dinner and decadent drinks at the Walnut Creek Yacht Club, after which we attended a preview of California Shakespeare Theater's production of The Tempest, for which Monica was cast in the understudy role of Caliban (yes, the character is female in this interpretation!). Hopefully, she'll actually get a chance to perform, but in case, it's a valuable career connection. I'd still like to see a production of The Tempest designed to look like Forbidden Planet, though, with Caliban re-imagined as Robby the Robot.

The day before our anniversary, on Wednesday, May 30, Scott Fulks and I performed our first public reading from our novel It Came from Hangar 18 at Books Inc. in Alameda, which was well attended and a success by most measures. Public thanks to Jerry Thompson for making it all possible. Scott Fulks at me, Books Inc., Alameda, 5/30/12


A week before my trip to Miami, the engine light went on in our PT Cruiser...meet our new Mini CooperThe day after our anniversary, on Friday June 1, I was flown first class to Miami to meet with Christian for what essentially turned out to be a reconnaissance mission, scouting locations for the script, a draft of which had already been sent to me. I have now been drafted to co-write the updated version of the screenplay, which moves my private eye hero Vic Valentine's adventures from his original base of San Francisco to the Art Deco Mecca of Miami. Christian and I hit it off right away,  despite the fact that this was our first meeting in person, probably because we'd been sharing this psychic bond for so long, but also because on top of being a gracious host, he is a genuinely good guy, whose passion for this project is both inspirational and unusual. I finally find out the truth of how he discovered my book in the first place: he just noticed it on the shelf at the sadly now-defunct Dutton's in Brentwood, LA, cracked it open, and was immediately drawn in by the voice. My voice, as channeled through Vic Valentine, Private Eye. More irony: my father's wife Paige was the bookstore's manager at the time. In fact, she made sure it was stocked there. But who knew it would lead to the biggest single break of my literary career? Basically, my book had the same impact on Christian as his movie True Romance had on me, meaning I could completely relate to the material, as if it was made just for and about me. It was an amazing case of serendipity, and in fact my entire trip to Miami was a series of cosmically synchronized events. It was magical. And long overdue. But better Slater than never, as my friend Mister Lobo put it. "The Two Vics" finally meet in Miami, 6/1/12Thus, a beautiful friendship was born, way back when, against all odds. It felt more like a reunion than a first meeting. After all this time, and given our immediate chemistry, Christian - once just another movie star on the screen, seemingly existing in a parallel universe unaccessible to my kind - really does feel like a long lost brother to me. And now we're creative collaborators. Unbelievable.
Much more to report later. My photojournal will take it from here. Now, back to work.  Cheers. Reading from "It Came from Hangar 18" at Books Inc., Alameda, 5/30/12 Toasting eleven of the best years of our lives at Walnut Creek Yacht Club, 5/31/12 Monica as...Caliban?

My career is finally heating up Miami Beach



































Christian and me deep sea fishing off the coast of Miami. We actually caught a shark. And let it go.














My first Cuban cigar.


















In "The Deep Throat House," Miami - legendary location of  40 movies. Maybe 41...















Reposing in the house where Sinatra shot a scene for "Lady in Cement" Frank in the same room, candidly shot by pinup legend Bunny Yeager - now a framed portrait from my friend Ferenc Dobronyi, whose father Sepy, a famous Miami playboy, owned the house Christian, me, and the original Aston-Martin from "Goldfinger," part of the incredible Dezer Collection,  Miami The original Batmobile. Finally made it to the iconic tiki landmark, the Mai Kai in Fort Lauderdale


















Another friend I met for the first time: fellow author Christopher  Pinto



























Christian and me aboard the actual "African Queen" in Key Largo In Bogey's footsteps...

ONWARD CHRISTIAN SLATER!

I wrote "Love Stories" a few months before "True Romance"
came out in 1993Eleven years ago, right before my wedding to Monica Tiki Goddess, I received a letter sent to the offices of Speakeasy Theaters/Wild Card Press informing me that famous actor Christian Slater - star of such cult classics as Pump Up the Volume , Heathers , Broken Arrow , and my personal favorite, True Romance - wanted to option my novel Love Stories Are Too Violent For Me, which is now out of print. Needless to say, I accepted the offer. Christian Slater, whom I've long admired, reportedly discovered a copy in the house of a mutual friend with the cover artist, Tim Racer, and he has renewed the option annually since then. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime miracles, seemingly the big break I'd been hoping for since I began writing fiction as a teenager. It seemed too good to be true. But it's not like I hadn't paid my dues.
Love Stories, the first in my Vic Valentine, Private Eye series, set mostly in San Francisco, had been published by Wild Card  Press in 1995. It was their sole effort before they pretty much abandoned the publishing venture to focus on their much more successful movie theater/restaurant venture with The Parkway in Oakland, which became a local institution, and for which I served as publicist/programmer for twelve years, ultimately including their expansion to the Cerrito Theater in 2007.  I hosted Thrillville at both theaters, beginning with my weekly Midnight Lounge series in April, 1997 (I met Monica for the first time when she attended my screening of Jailhouse Rock on May 31 of that year, but didn't officially hook up with her till I ran into her at my Elvis Bday Party at The Ivy Room in Albany on January 8, 1998). Sadly, Speakeasy Theaters and Wild Card Press folded in 2009, and my "career" as a film programmer came to an abrupt end. Unwilling to return to my pre-Parkway lifestyle of barely getting by working low-paying odd jobs I hated, I returned to my first love: writing fiction. I'd never stopped writing, but throughout my "hiatus" with Speakeasy Theaters, I only wrote and published various non-fiction articles and columns, mostly related to film and pop culture. My last fictional effort had been A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge , which I abandoned after writing only a few chapters once The Parkway (and The Midnight Lounge) took off. Thrillville, as a live cult movie cabaret, and "Will the Thrill," my public lounge lizard persona, became pretty much a creative surrogate. But it never gave the fulfillment I achieved when I finally finished Mermaid then went back and self-published much of my back log of manuscripts, reworking many of them, including the four sequels to Love Stories, in addition to writing new work. While this was artistically satisfying, I was still left struggling to make ends meet doing freelance writing work, along with booking bands, social networking and working as a bouncer for Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, where I also host my movie nite, "Forbidden Thrills." All fun and cool, but my ultimate dream still proved elusive, and I'm rapidly closing in on The Big Five-O. My body of work needed a serious promotional boost, since I could only generate so much publicity via my own limited platform.
The evolution of Vic Valentine: from a typewriter on my kitchen table in a Berkeley studio apartment (1993), to a reading at a bookstore in Fremont CA (1996), to drinking the official "Vic Valentine" cocktail at Forbidden Island (2011), to meeting with Christian Slater to discuss the movie...
It was clear I needed a big break if I was ever going to finally realize the literary goals of my ambitious youth, detailed in this 2002 blog, now itself a decade old.

This fuse was lit a long time ago, and is finally ready to explode...

Though I admit I often lost hope that this completely random, fortuitous seed would ever bear any practical, professional fruit (other than the yearly checks), it looks like Christian's faith in and passion for the project is finally about to pay off, for both of us. This was always planned as his directorial debut, and he adapted the screenplay as well. I finally got to read the latest draft when he suddenly contacted me via email last month, and told me he was ready to move on to the next stage of this long-simmering, seemingly impossible mission, and fly me out to Miami to meet with him and work on updating the material and moving the setting from North Beach to South Beach, together, with the goal of finally bringing this script to the big screen, as early as next year.
Again, I accepted. 
This is that "big break." I finally scored the two elements that have always been missing from my artistic arsenal: Luck, and a powerful champion.
Rendezvous in Miami: "I can feel it coming in the air tonight, and I've been waiting for this moment all my life...."
That's all I really feel free to publicly divulge at this point, but that's plenty. I'll report back after my trip to Miami the first week of June. I'm leaving town the day after my 11th wedding anniversary on Thursday May 31, and two days after my  It Came From Hangar 18  reading/signing event with Scott Fulks at Books Inc. in Alameda, on Wednesday May 30, 7PM. It's going to be quite a week. And it will only be the beginning of a new phase in my life - perhaps long delayed, but well worth the wait, and the effort.
As Monica Tiki Goddess has been saying for years in her toasts, and which now serves as the dedication to the second Vic Valentine novel,  Fate Is My Pimp : Onward Christian Slater!


Cheers.
Vic Valentine is moving his headquarters to steamier surroundings...

Thrillville reviews: "The Avengers"

Thrillville has thrived for over fifteen years by networking and promoting relatively obscure, underground movies, music and books (particularly those written by moi), so for me to spend precious (but free) blog space "reviewing" The Avengers , a movie that is already well on its way to becoming one of the biggest blockbusters of all time, seems like a waste of my time and energy, as well as yours. And it is, sort of, so I'll cut right to the chase:I'm not here to add a single penny to Marvel's massive coffers.  I already made my donations to this "cause" at the box office. I'm speaking out simply as a fan who has waited for this movie most of my life. Scratch that. I dreamed of a movie like this for most of my life, but never thought it would happen. There were just too many clashing egos involved, and I don't mean Captain America (Chris Evans/Johnny Storm), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr., duh), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo, the best Bruce Banner since Bill Bixby), or even superhero enabler/S.H.I.E.L.D's badass boss Nick Fury (Samuel Jackson - who still comes off a lot more like Shaft than the '50s pulp style, cigar-chomping white guy I grew up with, but hey - it's Samuel Jackson). Oh yea, Black Widow and Hawkeye too. What's that? Some of you (like my beautiful, patient wife, Monica Tiki Goddess) didn't even realize that Scarlett Johannson and Jeremy Renner were playing superheroes, too? Don't worry, that's not your fault.
The Avengers I grew up with, and never thought I'd see on the big screen, only maybe a crappy TV movie someday.
Therein lies my single beef, and it's not restricted to The Avengers, which is one of the greatest comic book  adaptations ever, right behind The Dark Knight and right up there with Watchmen and Sin City. It's the same constant complaint I've had about most comic book adaptations since the classic 1960s television series Batman, still by far the purest translation of comics to screen in film history, because they weren't ashamed or embarrassed by the source material - they embraced it! Everyone knows how awesome Joss Whedon's witty, fast-paced, thoughtful, action-packed instant classic is, so I really don't need to add my tiny voice to the critical chorus of universal praise. It's better than anyone could've reasonably expected. But not better than it could have been. I give it a 9 out of a 10. Here are a few nitpicky reasons why:
Where the hell was Hawkeye's mask? Who gives a damn if it's purple with a 'H' in the middle of his face - Captain America's mask is blue with an 'A' on the forehead! So what? It's a comic book character, for Chrissake! Why was "Clint Barton" only referred to as "Hawkeye" once during the entire movie (and you'll have to listen hard for it; it's in the heat of battle.) And "Natasha Romanoff" is only referred to as "Black Widow" once - in a subtitle. Superheroes do not have mundane names like "Barton" and "Natasha." Not in the world being referenced, anyway. This was obviously a wrongheaded concession to whatever chickenshit creative entities deemed that calling Hawkeye and Black Widow by their rightful names was too, I don't know...unrealistic? In a movie populated by gods, monsters and aliens? They could've just referred to their original - and established - comic book monikers as their operative, undercover "code names" - repeatedly - and I would've settled for that. But nooooo. That would've crossing some invisible bullshit line. The same line that the makers of Iron Man 2 refused to cross by not outright naming Mickey Rourke's villain "Whiplash." Or Scarlett "The Black Widow," for that matter.
They look so much cooler with their masks on. Sorry, pretty boys.As for the casting and costuming, it was mostly very satisfying, except: why didn't Captain America's stripes go all the way around his waist? From the back it looks like he's wearing pajamas. It's still a vast improvement over the makeshift outfit he wore in Lookin' good, as long as Cap doesn't turn around, and Thor  finds his helmet,
and someone makes "Hawkeye" (cough) a purple mask, but otherwise...right on!Now: onto The Amazing Spiderman , which I'm really looking forward to, despite the fact it's a pointless "reboot," since The Lizard is my favorite Spidey villain; and The Dark Knight Rises , which may match or even surpass the first two installments in Chris Nolan's epic neo-noir trilogy. But Andrew Garfield's Spidey costume looks far less faithful than Tobey Maguire's. Meantime, Christopher Bale, a great Batman, still dresses (while on the job) like he made his costume out of the Batmobile's used tires, and Bane is missing his trademark lucha mask, traded in for some kind of crazy serial killer heavy breathing apparatus, and a fur-lined coat. 
Why? 
Long live Adam West. Cheers.

Thrillville at 15: a decadent decade and a half

Toasting Forbidden Island on its 6th anniversary,
4/22/12 Toasting Thrillville on its 15th anniversary,
4/23/12Fifteen years ago this month, in April 1997, I began producing, programming and hosting a weekly live cult movie series at The Parkway Theater in Oakland, CA, with David Lynch's Blue Velvet. Since initially the show took place every Saturday nite at 12AM (okay, so it was actually Sundays), I called it The Midnight Lounge (later reinvented for my novel A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge .) The basic format - my choice of 35mm classic drive-in/grindhouse B movies, mostly from the 50s thru the 70s, with prizes and live entertainment - was the foundation for the evolution of what would eventually become fairly widely known as "Thrillville."  Thrillville: from live cult movie cabaret to tiki lounge movie nite to pulp fiction pimp.Flash forward to April 2012, as I present a double bill of Roger Corman's early hit Day the World Ended (1956) with the  unduly unsung sci-fi classic World Without End (1955), at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda, where I now host a monthly movie nite called Forbidden Thrills. No burlesque, no bands, no beer (well, on some beer) - just cult movies 'n' cocktails. The Parkway (and Cerrito) Speakeasy Theaters are long gone, but Thrillville survives, having evolved from a weekly midnight show to a prime time Thursday night show to an occasional road show to a tiki lounge movie nite to its ultimate destination: The Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection. Ironically, I was asked to create a midnight movie show to promote my first published novel (featuring my private eye Vic Valentine), called  Love Stories Are Too Violent For Me , which was printed by Wild Card Press (owned by the folks who later founded Speakeasy Theaters) in 1996, and discovered then optioned by Christian Slater in 2001, annually renewed since then (and I'm hoping this will be the year it finally gets made: Onward Christian Slater!). After the theaters folded and I took my act on the road, I quickly tired of the lounge lizard schtick, not to mention the challenging logistics of booking a multi-media show at different venues around the Bay, so I returned to my first love: writing. So it all came full circle, as least from my personal (and professional) perspective.
Thrillville 2012: B Movies & Pulp Cocktails - smaller screen, but better booze
Toasting Molokai Mike on the 6th anniversary of
his incredibly successful venture, Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge Back in the fez: still crazy after all these years...Meantime, my friend Michael Thanos of my favorite hangout Forbidden Island hired me as the successful bar's publicist/live music booker/doorman/movie host, and I've basically started my own small self-publishing dynasty. The rewards so far have been mostly of a creative nature, and not all Thrill Seekers have embraced my evolution into a literary lounge lizard, but I'm slowly and surely developing a whole new following for work that truly matters to me, while keeping my (fez) hat in the movie hosting biz, on which I built my brand name.


With co-author Scott Fulks (left); "Hangar 18" at Books Inc.



So it all came together this past April 23, the day after Forbidden Island turned 6, when I celebrated 15 years of Thrillville at its new remote location, though its home base remains my heart, reflected in my fiction. At the event I sold and signed copies of my latest pulp epic,  It Came from Hangar 18 , with my co-author Scott Fulks, whom I initially met at the bar, and who hired me to write a sci-fi novel based on his three page outline, with his scientific theories embedded into my tantalizing text. It's now on sale not only online at Amazon but at Books Inc. in Alameda, where we will do a joint reading/signing on Wednesday, May 30, 7PM. Meantime, my first written novel, finally published in 2010, Chumpy Walnut , is on the shelf at the main branch of the Alameda Library.
I'm not exactly where I thought I'd like to be at this point in my so-called "career," but the fact is, I still and will always boast the single greatest result of my years of presenting Thrillville in its various forms: that most divine of dividends, my beautiful wife Monica, Tiki Goddess, whom I met at a Midnight Lounge presentation of Jailhouse Rock at The Parkway on May 31, 1997 (though we didn't officially get together until my Elvis B-day Party at The Ivy Room in Albany on January 8, 1998). As long as I have her by my side, I'm a success. Cheers.

Drinking a "Chumpy Walnut" on the left; "Chumpy" the book at the Alameda Library:
The dreams of my past, present and future converge. THIS is Thrillville.


UPDATE:  Literally right after I posted this blog entry, I received a possibly life-changing, or at least career-changing email. Stay tuned. The best thrills are yet to come...

Thrillville reviews: "The Cabin in the Woods"

(SPECIAL NOTE: For over a year and I half I regularly wrote movie reviews for Examiner.com, as "Oakland Indie Movie Examiner." Due to the fact they're pushy, insufferable, ungrateful cheapskates, I recently quit that racket cold, so I'll be posting occasional movie reviews on this blog from now. If I'm going to work for free, or practically free, I'd rather just work for myself. Dig.)
Old school poster on the right is actually much more indicative
of the movie's tone and agenda Joss Whedon, of Buffy and Avengers fame, certainly doesn't need a shout-out from me, but his latest cinematic offering, actually shot in 2008 but delayed for release due to some sort of big studio corporate chickenshit, merits my public support. Simply and somewhat deceptively called The Cabin in the Woods , it's a snide, bumpy ride to the grindhouse and back, riffing off slasher flicks, EC Comics, Scooby Doo, H.P. Lovecraft, George Romero, Stephen King, and much, much more. It started off a bit contrived for my tastes, immediately revealing the setup, as a bunch of cute but annoying youngsters (including pre-Thor Chris Hemsworth) travel down the formulaic path into the deep, dark forest, where they encounter the usual monstrous mayhem, only this time it's all manipulated by unseen corporate forces. Pretty much like every day life. That may be part of the irony here, and indeed, much of my appreciation of this flick comes from what I'm reading into it. That may also be part of the point. The storyline takes some outrageous twists and turns, all for the film's eventual benefit, as producer Whedon and director Drew Goddard (who both co-wrote the often witty screenplay) finally goes to the outrageous, surreal places I would've gone, though naturally, as a pulp novelist myself, I would've gone much, much further (requiring an impossibly big budget, no doubt - as well as a box office poisonous X-rating.) There's only one scene of gratuitous female nudity, included mostly as a gimmick, but hey, bare boobs are bare boobs, and always appreciated. The film is self-consciously exploiting the whole concept of exploitation movies, so none of it is to be taken seriously. It's much more of an unconventional comedy than a straight up horror flick. This may alienate some hardcore gorehounds, and I was a bit restless for at least the first half, since even when satirizing stereotypical storytelling tropes, you still have to traverse overly familiar turf, and that can get boring fast. Still, the fantastically frenetic finale, particularly the deliciously decadent denouement, maybe the most misanthropic statement I've ever seen in a mainstream movie, at least since Dr. Strangelove (1963), were extremely entertaining and satisfying. Rather than reveal any more of the carefully orchestrated and deliberately paced plot points, I've posted some images and videos that collectively illustrate the film's many influences, at least as I see it. Overall, Cabin in the Woods wound up being a nice surprise. The old saying posits that "it's the journey, not the destination" that counts. In this case, it's quite the opposite: The End justified the mean spirits that made this mini-masterpiece possible. Cheers. Cthulhu

Jazz, Sex, and Cocktails: Playboy in the 50s

Hugh Hefner may be the ultimate Alpha Male: suave, sophisticated, successful, and stylish, a rebel with a cause who revolutionized (and revitalized) the publishing industry in 1953 with a magazine that was at first modestly designed but already boldly boasting an immodest agenda. The immediate popularity of Playboy upended social mores both sexual and racial, as Hef was a barrier-busting pioneer in all realms of progressive change, despite charges of sexist exploitation. I've met a few centerfolds and bunnies in my time, including Jeane Manson, Miss August 1974, a major singing star in France who happens to be my father's ex-wife, and they were all strong, sensuous women: unashamed, unafraid, and unshackled. My father became good friends with Hef, and was a frequent guest at the Brentwood mansion. I never had the opportunity to visit, since it was invitation only, but that's okay - it could never live up to my expectations, especially with my retro sensibilities. To me, the ultimate Playboy mansion was the Chicago set of Hef's groundbreaking television series, Playboy's Penthouse (1959-1961), the real Mad Men, wherein celebrities and influential icons of the day from Lenny Bruce to Sammy Davis Jr. would drop by for some informal chatting, drinking and performing, mingling freely with gorgeous women and each other, regardless of race. His later series Playboy After Dark (1969-70) replicated this formula for a totally different era.
Pinup legend Bettie Page Blonde bombshell Jayne Mansfield B movie goddess Yvette Vickers Cult movie queen Mara CordayBelow is an extensive pictorial overview of Playboy's first glorious decade, or rather, 1953-59. The pinups are relatively tame by today's standards, or even those of the truly emancipating decade of the 1960s, yet ethereally, eternally erotic and boundlessly beautiful. But Playboy promoted more than an appreciation of the female form as living Art - Hef was a champion of Jazz, Literature, Cinema, Progressive Politics, and the Modern lifestyle, ever on the cutting edge of swingin', liberating culture, and within these pages were many tantalizing time capsules of Space Age aesthetics, always with an eye to a bright, shiny Future, filled with Hope and healthy Hedonism. Here's to the dreams of the past, preserved forever in the plush bedroom of our collective imaginations...

Sex & Monsters: the Erotic Fantasy Art of Boris Vallejo

Most people think about sex and death much more than they may care to admit, and it's perfectly natural, since at some point, we all experience them at least once. These contrasting themes of pleasure and pain - one that potentially perpetuates life, the other ostensibly ending it - are common in all forms of Art across the spectrum of our collective culture and history, ranging from the Bible, Ancient Greek and Roman Mythology, and Shakespeare, right up to my personal favorite exponents of exploitation, B Movies and Pulp Fiction. It does seem odd that so many citizens in our schizoid society fear sex even more than death. Personally, I prefer the former, though the hint of violence and danger does often ironically increase the intensity of sexual desire. 
When I was growing up in the 1970s, I was captivated by the (reprint) paperback covers painted by the likes of Frank Frazetta and Boris Vallejo, mostly for the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Lester Dent, and Robert E. Howard, but also a variety of science fiction and fantasy books, lending the contents a suggestive sense of sophisticated sensuality that perhaps wasn't originally envisioned or intended by the authors, but certainly augmented their success in both conservatie or liberal eras, since sex always sells any product. These provocative  covers literally seduced the reader, fueling my young fevered imagination with dark, disturbing imagery of forbidden passions laced with bestiality and monstrous mating. Much later, I would infuse my own fiction with these elements, most radically in my recent novels  A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge and Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room, which freely and fiercely combine horrendous horror and extreme eroticism, but in a dreamy, often nightmarish context of surreal sensuality. 
Much of my inspiration comes from these early impressions. In this blog, I'm paying visual tribute specifically to Boris Vallejo, with a gallery of images culled from a long out-of-print book given to me by a girlfriend in the early 1980s. Mister Vallejo is still alive and working, along with his beautiful wife Julie Bell, and they offer many iconic prints for sale directly from their website.  He has rightfully enjoyed a long, lucrative career as a commercial artist, working in many fields, including movie posters, which are all equally impressive and bear his uniquely sensuous, rawly realistic stamp. The images below have stuck in my mind for years - decades in fact - and if they inspire you the way they inspired me, that means we have something in common, and I'm happy to share them with you. It also probably means you'd enjoy my own work, too. Here's to Sex, and the artists who make it so beautiful, mysterious, alluring, and haunting. Cheers.

Facebook and the Fear of the Female Nipple

Facebook found this unacceptable - really? Retouched "Bride" photo by DB JonesRecently a picture I posted on my Facebook page was suddenly removed, with a warning. That has never happened to me before, and I've been posting vintage pulp/pinup/poster art on my page for years, since that's a big part of what I'm all about, and it's my forum, and if you don't like it, don't be my friend. Obviously someone with a bug up their ass dropped a dime on me. I found the image innocuous and inoffensive, especially since it was simply promotional artwork for a Hammer sci-fi film that never actually got made, tentatively titled When the Earth Cracked Open. Here it is, on my own blog, where (I hope and trust) I'm free to express myself creatively without fear of censorship. Now you tell me why this vintage artwork would be deemed morally unacceptable to share in a public forum...
Marilyn Monroe's famous Playboy centerfold, 1953You got it: tits. Mammaries. Bosoms. We all got 'em - born with 'em, in fact. Apparently you can display the male chest in all its glory on Facebook, as I've often witnessed, or bountiful cleavage, suggesting the forbidden, formidable, foreboding presence of these most taboo of innocent body parts. But even sharing an illustration of female nipples sent some anonymous prude into a Janet Jackson halftime type meltdown. Now my Facebook page, which I need to remain active for business networking purposes, mainly peddling my pulp fiction, is probably being watched more closely, and could be in jeopardy of shutdown. Because of an old movie poster. For a movie that was never even made. Artwork for the 1978 giallo, La Sorela di Ursula


Reluctantly, I heeded Facebook's puritanical but authoritative admonition and preemptively deleted other found and scanned images from my Facebook photo albums that may be deemed in violation of this suddenly strict no-nipple policy. Instead, I'm reposting them here, along with some others from my private files I knew would cross the line, so I didn't bother to post them on Facebook. Personally, I love looking at female breasts. I find them arresting. As long as I don't get arrested in the process. Some in our  pro-violence/anti-sex society want to defend the right to bear arms. I'm defending the right to bare breasts. 
Art by Fritz WillisSo here, just for the hell of it, and because censorship really pisses me off, is a gallery of gorgeous gals in all their glorious gall, a pulpy parade of prurient pinup pulchritude, an exotic, erotic exercise in excellent exploitation. They all have two things in common. Enjoy.

Forbidden jungle love By the great Frank Frazetta Nazisploitation was common in 50s/60s Men's Magazines Even mainstream master Gil Elvgren let a tasteful - and tasty - nipple pop out now and then Putting the strip in comic strip... If loving this is wrong, I don't want to be right
Pam Grier Bettie Page

Turning 49: mining for gold

Monica makes every day a reason to celebrate Starting early: Trader Vic's, Emeryville, 3/30/12 In Old Sacramento, 4/2/2012 At The Firehouse, Sacramento, 4/2/12 At The Shady Lady, Sacramento, 4/2/12




















This past April 2 I turned 49, which isn't much of a marker, other than the fact it means I'm a year away from truly momentous milestone of 50. Professionally, I'm way behind schedule, at least according to my own career clock, though personally I feel perfectly fulfilled, thanks to my marriage to Monica, Tiki Goddess - the gift that keeps on giving (and I wasn't really born till the day we met, anyway). Due to the fact I've published so many books over the past couple of years, and written three, I'm also creatively satisfied, though turning my self-made dreams into a real success story remains the challenge. 
Crest Theater, 4/2/12 At the State Capital, 4/2/2012




















Image by Michael FlemingI was unsure how to celebrate this birthday. I'd always hoped to finish my 40s the way I began them - at the Orbit In in Palm Springs, our favorite vacation spot, back when we could afford to take vacations, but alas, being a freelance writer, that goal was a bit outside our budget. Next year at this time I hope to be in Hawaii for the Big Five-O, which means I'll be in Area 51 the following year. So instead, in keeping with the 49 theme, we headed for Sacramento for our own private gold rush. It really just amounted to a whirlwind of hipster bar-hopping, with dinner at The Broiler, an old school Rat Pack -style steakhouse, ending up at The Crest Theater in Sacramento, our first visit to this fabulous movie palace (we saw  We Need To Talk About Kevin , which was excellent, but hardly festive). It was a pretty lowkey day, but we had fun, and I was especially touched by the hundreds of warm wishes I received on my Facebook page. In addition to the geyser of greetings, I was treated to some creative posts, including a photoshopped image of me as a vintage spaceman, by artist Michael Fleming, who created the classic cover for It Came from Hangar 18.


My 40th Birthday Roast, Palm Springs, 4/2/2003

The #1 song in the country when I was born, 4/2/1963; now it could be called simply "He's So 49." Aesthetically, I never outgrew the year I was born (and dig the date on this special issue of Newsweek inspired by my favorite show,  Mad Men) On Monday, April 23, 7:30, I will be marking another anniversary: fifteen years of Thrillville, from the Parkway to Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, where I've been hosting my movie nite, Forbidden Thrills, for nearly two of those years. Since at a decade and a half Thrillville truly feels endless, I'll be hosting screenings of Roger Corman's cult favorite The Day the World Ended (1956) with the sci-fi classic World Without End (1955), plus the usual prizes, free popcorn, and $1 off all drinks on Will the Thrill's Pulp Cocktails Menu. Cheers.