The Barnick of 1000 Faces
Current mood: weird

Gang,

Much to report, though I'll leave the hard core production/film related news for later. Though I'm told the Grace trailer we did premiered at London's FrightFest to much acclaim/interest, and you US horror convention-goers should be able to stop by the Anchor Bay Entertainment tables to get a glimpse of the freakiness over the next year.  Also just cut the first 'temp trailer' for my followup project after Mainstream (readers' mental dialogue: Followup?  Really? About fuckin' time!  Wait, what?) Which I'll have a LOT more to say about later(no wait!  Tell us!).  For now, there's more important issues to discuss(you can't just kiss us and go home you little shit!) which I need all of you to weigh in on, even those shy ones in the back. 

WHAT SHOULD EVIL BARNICK BE FOR HALLOWEEN?

And don't say 'evil', you jackasses.  Even I need a break.

.

Yes, Halloween's coming, the time of year when everyone else validates our awesomeness by being posers and pretending they like severed limbs and zombies the other 11 months of the year; but we know better, don't we boys and ghouls?  Doesn't matter; it's nice to have the whole world pretend it's a Fangoria Con for a night, the Official Best Day of the Year.  (It's true, look it up.)

Before I got into filmmaking, my interests began in makeup FX, and was always into costumes so if you poke through my picture folders you'll see that even at Barnick: Year One(I'm a fat Santa) I was into it.  In later years I'm covered in latex and paint, etc.   Even if it's low-key like last year(Donnie Darko) I gotta put something on, you know?  Unfortunately most of the years I'm broke in October so the costume MUST be low key; and knowing my schedule, October 31 will be the only night of the season I'm out, so I've been stocking up on pumpkins.  But that's good because I won't have to see the Christmas decorations being set up in stores by lunchtime on November 1. 

Some costumes I've always wanted to do:

-Leonard Shelby from Memento (cheap suit, polaroids, temp tattoos)

-the infected from 28 Days/Weeks later; I could run from gathering to gathering at lightning speed, hit more venues and everyone would just think I'm in character.  But the idea of those contact lenses freaks me out.

-Freddy Krueger- oh, wait; I've been him before. 

click HERE for Barnick as Freddy

So anyway, give me some ideas, some possible low-cost outside the box suggestions, y'all know me..  for all I know I'll just be Donnie again or I'll wear the Darko skeleton body costume's mask this time and go out as Zabka!  We shall see..throw me some inspiration, tell me what you're going as, let's get this Mad Monster Party started before we're filing (at least in the US) for unemployment benefits.  One of the jobs I have services the financial industry so all day I've been watching (said Lamar Lattrell style) panic panic panic!   Everyone's been singing this guy's mournful tune:

Damn, he's good.

Currently listening : Blue Release date: 2007-02-13

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Barnick is made of win!

OK I know it's been a while.  Very busy, much to reveal soon.  But someone asked what one of my funny images meant in my photo section(me in a plastic biohazard suit) so I figured I'd give y'all a Friday treat.

When I moved back to NYC one of the first jobs I had was helping out on a music video for Japan for Guitar Wolf.  I helped in the production office and was PAing on it, but the third actor never showed up so for some reason; the decision was made to "Put Barnick in the suit."  (those are the exact suits from Outbreak, by the way.)  So I give you:  Guitar Wolf's ROCK DE KOROSE (Murder by Rock) with yours truly as...Lead Spaceman!

Speechless.

FYI The lyrics are something like "Rock and roll!  Kill!  Kill! Fuck off!  Repeat!" etc. 

I had much fun that day being, as I always seem to be in life, chased by many ladies intent on capturing/killing me.  It's hard to make out but I have a fine Shatneresque death scene in there.  Apparently the atmosphere in Greenpoint, Brooklyn is toxic to aliens like me.  The directors didn't speak much English, but thankfully I don't speak much acting.  ("Big scream!" is easy enough direction to take.)  They gave me the prop laser guns as a parting gift.

Have a great super fun happy weekend time!

Space Barnick 

Currently listening : Golden Black: Greatest Hits By Guitar Wolf Release date: 2005-11-01

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The Ancient Bastard and the Brutal Massacre

I'm in the supermarket a few months back buying vino.

I zip to the line's front and the checkout girl asks for ID.

I grin, not yet noticing the new sign that's up stating ID MUST BE CHECKED these days…I figure I musta been clean shaven and wide-eyed and looked all innocent and stuff.  Sometimes it genuinely happens (getting carded has gone from an insult to a compliment) but on occasion they don't ask here, so..

The checkout girl, probably 17, if that, looks up from the ID and goes:

CHECKOUT GIRL

(excited) 

My best friend has your same birthday! (grammar verbatim)  

She grins.  

BARNICK:

Oh, cool!

I then think in my head (that's how it works with me) that this would be a particularly blogworthy funny moment if she followed it up with an age joke.  But she wouldn't-

CHECKOUT GIRL:

(harmless manner)

Well, not the same year, obviously. 

Wow.

We're both distracted by a sharp rustling/cracking sound which turns out to be my face crusting over and wrinkling in real time.

She then realizes her supreme faux paus.

CHECKOUT GIRL:

Oh!  Not to say you're old! 

(nervous laughter)  

BARNICK:

No worries! 
BARNICK SUBTEXT:

Bitch. 

She totally didn't mean it, else assassinations would be in order- but you're all allowed and encouraged to take me down if in five years I turn into this guy:

Anyhoo...

Brutal Massacre is a new comedy coming out next month, it's a funny little farce starring David Naughton, Brian O' Halloran, Gerry Bednob, Ken Foree, Gunnar Hansen and the Ladies of The Evil Dead; pretty cool that they got a bunch of actors known just for horror pictures to do something besides scream or cause screams.  If you're in NYC, there will be a couple of theatrical showings of the film at the Two Boots theater downtown on July 5 and 6 and possibly after that.  Around the same time there will be bookings in LA, Michigan and Texas I believe..check out its website for that info as the dates approach. And it's on DVD July 22.

The story involves a clueless, once-renowned genre director named Harry Penderecki(Naughton) trying to make a last-gasp career-saving picture called Brutal Massacre, his slasher Gone With the Wind, after his previous 70's and 80's hits and misses and recent mishaps have left his pictures and career on the discount rack at the video store.  A documentary crew is following his journey Spinal Tap style, and all sorts of film-set chicanery ensues!

I did some of the fake trailers for Anchor Bay's marketing department based on the concepts of the C- movies Harry Penderecki's supposed to have done;

here are two of them.  I had way too much fun lighting a stuffed piranha, I must say.  It's fun to try to make something that has to be 'bad' but still entertaining.

FISH WHO ATE FLESH- theatrical promo

That 'trailer guy' voiceover is by Mark Coffin- yes that's his real name-who I highly recommend to anyone needing good voice work.  www.markcoffin.com.

I'll Take The Ring Back, And The Finger Too

The temp tune needs to be swapped out, but I like this version better than the replacement score.

Starring Laura Malone and Nick Gaglia who were gracious enough to let me shoot photos of them in Central Park for hours in the freezing cold. 

Here's the same fish trailer but redone for its "Special Edition DVD release".

Anchor Bay/Starz is running a contest now where you can make your own trailers like these for the roster of Penderecki pictures..I think the deadline's in 2-3 weeks but you'll win 1000 bucks if they like what you come up with!  I wonder if I get the grand if all the 'bad trailers' aren't bad/good enough..

I have other work coming up for Anchor Bay which I'm excited about but can't tell ya yet!  All I can says right now is keep your eyes on their convention booths this year..

Enjoy your summer and tip your waiter.  And if your self-esteem is raging out of control, I recommend you come to my grocery store and buy a six pack.  A trained team of gigglin' youths are ready to help you with your problem.

-Evil B. 

Currently listening : Songs That Got Us Through WWII By Various Artists Release date: 1990-03-16

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The Regina Monologues pt. 2
Current mood: productive

First morning of the shoot, for me.  A big bear hug from the director, and 30 seconds later, I'm shooting everything that moves.  I immediately meet Jordan Ladd's dog, a Jack Russell terrier I believe, who has quickly become the set mascot.  Look for him to make some hearty cameos on DVD.  

I have upcoming blogs for Fangoria and potential articles/clips for Icons of Fright that will give some details of the shoot particulars, but I'm keeping this informal because I know you want to know more vital, culture-uplifting details like:

What's the karaoke scene like in Saskatchewan?

I meet maestro director of photography Zoran Popovic, who shot a John Cusack/Gary Oldman film that's in theaters here in NYC right now (War, Inc.) as well as The Lost, aka The Movie That Horrified Evil Barnick.  I remark how disturbing the film was to me and he agrees, even having shot it!  I also tour the awesome "set" we'll spend most of our time at, a large house in Moose Jaw.  Any room not being filmed in temporarily houses crew and equipment. 

And I meet some excellent actors on my day one, which is actually day 12.  For some reason I keep ending up on sets on day 12 when I visit or get hired halfway through production.  This day ends with a fantastically cool little stunt; the double does the most painful part, and the real actor does the most painful LOOKING part.  Both survive.  We make the day without going into overtime, with literally a minute to spare.

And it's Saturday night, tomorrow's the production's day off; how do you blow off steam in Moose Jaw?

By pummeling another human being in the street, duh!

Moose Jaw looks like small town main street USA, possibly the Northeast-Connecticut area.  It's affluent yet middle-class and calming, and everyone's nice.  Downtown Moose Jaw looks like the aliens came and took everyone and left retarded Rock 'em Sock 'em robots in their place, along with some alcohol.

The director, producer Adam Green, myself and 5 or 6 other crew pop into a bar.. and it's one of the most depressing places I've ever been in.  It feels like winter inside and even the waitresses have big burly mustaches(I might have imagined that part).  But trust me, there's enough mustache to go around.

For another point of view of this very night click here for Green's blog on the matter.

Some of the saddest, cheesiest karaoke I've ever been forced to see is being squawked out on a nearby run down stage; cross the bars in Slither and A Simple Plan with the "In Dreams" scene in Blue Velvet and you have a better idea of how this is going down.

Nobody's really paying attention to the tune being mangled but I have to clap for the guy anyways.  Green looks over the playlist and declines. 

A young, abnormally skinny girl gets onstage, killing a different song, and I remark to my tablemates at the 'silly dance' she's doing.  That's when the more observant folk near me recognize her condition as cerebral palsy. 

I make a mental note- as I'm sure Satan will have it on a video loop I can watch as I'm violated by horny demons for the rest of eternity. 

Sigh.

Anyway a guy I think 50-60, with a grey power mustache asks Green if he is interested in fighting.  He says it in such a calm, inviting tone, like he was making conversation; like "are you interested in baseball?"  So I assume he's talking about boxing/fighting, the professional sport. 

Nope, turns out he wanted to know if Adam wanted to go outside and throw down, 'cause that's what people do here.

Depressing Karaoke Showdown continues.  Two ample-stomached ladies in their 50's duet.  If duets are done out of sync while telling stories to each other mid-verse.. 

I hit the bathroom and when I step out of the stall, a guy in his late 40's is lying down on the bathroom floor smoking a cigarette.  He jumps like I was the principal walking in on him in high school.   Should I have said 'it's cool!' like we did back then? 

We make our way out of there, and head to a 'younger hipper' place across the street called "Champs."  I know it caters to the kids in town, because they're in the parking lot fighting each other. 

We sidestep them, and enter the fray. 

Yikes. 

Everyone in this place is right Brahms; falling down pissed.  It's one of the more surreal moments I've had in my life.  Nothing but flannel and mustaches and ladies walking around with that "I'm hot and I know it!" vibe.  Except none of them are hot.    

The Champs are not what they seem.

I don't know how else to explain it.  It was like some kind of developmentally challenged 'alternate now' where folks go to drink, fight, and do the Ass Dance.  Thankfully it felt like we were invisible, able to watch the events without getting vaporized by them. 

It never felt (very) dangerous or violent in either place, but ….off.  Things are different here.  That should go on the tourist poster.  Downtown Moose Jaw- things are different here.

Most of us split, and watch the new fight in the parking lot where a young lass pulls a tiny lil' knife from her purse and goes after a friend of hers. 

Paul and I casually stroll to our car.

As we drive off I notice, on a dark street devoid of people, the cerebral palsy girl walking home.  It's a strikingly lonely image.  I assume I will revisit it again in Hell.

Monday we bring up our misadventures in downtown and one of the lighting stand-ins remarks on the downtown scene- she clues us in on how to do The Moose Jaw Handshake;

1)      pick up a beer bottle

2)      break it over something

3)      hold in right hand, extend toward potential 'friend' and say 'pleased to meet you!'

Anyway…

The next morning I pick up coffee down the street from the hotel and there's a camper parked alone in a parking lot.  The back is rocking..and I'm thinking "Someone's watching one of my videos!"  But it's the WAY it's rocking that's interesting.  Instead of an expected rhythm, it's more of an occasional THWACK that makes the camper rock back and forth briefly.  Then nothing.  Then two more, louder.  Nothing.  Thwack.  My guess is rather violent foreplay.  I totally thought of knocking on the camper door until I realized I was in every horror movie from 1971-77.  I go back to the hotel and leave 'em to their murderin'. 

The shoot's going well even though we're fighting to stay on top..but we do.   The days are getting colder and it's the first week in MAY.  I conduct my finest EPK interview, with an animatronic puppet of a baby.  It's Charlie Rose-worthy.

Interesting fact!

The Canadians I meet think their depiction on South Park is as funny as

I'm a long way from home.

I will say though, people are friggin' genuinely nice up there.  With the exception of the suburban Morlocks in the Moose Jaw nightclub, all the folks especially the ones in Regina (they don't even bat an eyelash when you say their town's name!) are actually known as the nicest people in Canada.  Shirt-off-their-back types.  99% of this crew I would work with again in a heartbeat.  Talented friendly ninjas, and this wasn't just a job for them.

The last day is a 22 hour day for us.  First unit finishes with some strong, stirring scenes between some excellent actors- you'll see when Grace is released, the perfs and writing are way above the bar for a 'horror film'.  Particularly fun to watch and document is the last 20 minutes of the day where the crew has to do two full scenes in two different rooms, with wardrobe changes…and they nail it.

No rest for the evil, as we're off to the second unit action… where a vital night-driving scene finishes the film's first act. 

I cannot believe it could actually get that cold on earth, but it does.  Isn't it almost summer?   

The awesome line producer remarks on how her team finished an outdoor shoot for a TV series shot up here in minus 55 degrees one night.  I think that's about minus 8 degrees in Fahrenheit… and?  They made the day. 

The sun's coming up and birds are chirping and I practically beg the producer for his gloves since mine are back at the hotel and my hands are so numb I can no longer operate the camera.  

At 5:30 am, WE FUCKING WRAP.  And it's awesome. 

A few hours later, after essentially a nap, I do Jordan's lengthy, detailed interview -she's a sweetheart- it goes fantastic except for the drunks in the park occasionally checking in to make sure our mise-en-scene was properly composed or something like that.  Thankfully we wrapped up before they decided to reclaim the park bench we used.

That night we're out to celebrate, thankfully in Regina this time.  The Irish bar we want to hit is overcrowded so we end up in a gay bar one of the crew frequents, and our story ends with us dancing the night away to overproduced yet lively techno.  I'm pretty sure my "dancing" is like bug repellant.  I've no clue how to dance.  I'll get on the fucking floor and have a good time, but you better hope the lighting's low- cuzz you don't need to see How Barnick Move. 

The irony being I used to be a pretty good breakdancer back in the day(like 9-10 years old back in the day).  I rocked the steadiest crew you could find in St. Vincent De Paul's Catholic School.

(pause so you finish laughing)

My last day in Regina, which is a larger and more artistic, hippie-tinged town, I find a bagel shop.  Leave it to the counterculture to pull it off!

That night, I'm back in the producer's scary, creaky house again.  Alone.  I'm leaving the next day. 

I hit the basement to do laundry while it's still daylight.

I don't go in the basement any time after that no matter how much the mysterious safe wants me to take a gander. 

I'm so tired I fall asleep before the ghosts of the dead kids can offer any advice.

The next day as I'm getting ready to get my ride out front, I hear a slow bumping or knocking.  Coming from downstairs.  I'm not making this up.

Thump.  Thump.  Thump.   

I decide not to play this character; and lock the place up and depart. 

The End...for now.

Look for Grace in theaters next year.

Currently listening : Retrospective By Red House Painters Release date: 1999-07-20

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The Regina Monologues (pt 1)
Current mood: energetic

Wow, where to start, eh?

I won't intensively detail my Canadian adventures here on the set of GRACE just yet- there's so many, and between the confidentiality agreement and everything else I might as well just detail some humorous highlights.  To see a super-detailed account of how the shoot went, be sure to pick up GRACE in 2009 on DVD after seeing it in theaters.  The production was terrific, even on such a tight schedule.  Met some great people, shot some great moments, did some fantastic interviews.  Paul Solet is the man.  More on this fine shoot to come.

I hit the airport (NWA, which comes up as the country-western band Niggaz With Attitude if you google it) and wait on line to get my set for one of two flights.   New York to Minneapolis, Minneapolis to Regina(which, if you Image-google it, comes up as…nevermind).  There's an hour between them, and a super-tight window, it seems, to pull it off.  We get a small delay or take too long de-boarding, and I'm F'd.  The line across from me is for another NWA flight.  I overhear the lady at the counter telling this guy the flight is overbooked and he won't get a seat.  He responds appropriately.

I'm called to the desk and I hand over all my papers while trying to cross fingers and toes. 

She looks at my seating/ticket and goes 'hmmm.' 

Gulp. 

I've got to be on set the very next morning, and be ON.  Not really up for sleeping in the airport.   

She notes where I'm seating and says "there's not much room for you there."  Which is better than hearing 'enjoy dinner at our vending machine, and the comfiest porcelain to sleep on is over by the South Gate." 

She puts me in a row which gives me more legroom.  Huzzah! 

The flight's uneventful, save for the 20 minute delay in taking off.

3 hours later, I'm in Minnesota in some sort of mall that also functions as the airport.  ??  No time to shop, I sprint to my gate and hope they port my luggage over in time.  Though I notice the load has lightened, so to speak, in this part of the country.  People are 30% less tense, I observe- as I run to the gate, cursing and tensing up. 

The older guy waiting at the gate to check my boarding pass looks exactly like the man in the American Gothic painting, but with a huge smile.  Turns out my flight now has a little time before it boards- they'd prepared for my plane getting in a few minutes late.  He pronounces the place in Canada I'm going to as Ruh-GEE-na and not the way that usually provokes double takes.

My first thought has been "has everyone up North I'm meeting been fucking with me in order for me to pronounce it the wrong way and cause havoc?"

His co-worker than makes another announcement and says it the way I'm used to..I sweat a little less.  Everyone is so polite here, I've got the urge to scream out 'cocksucker!' at the vending machine just to see what happens.  But instead I hop on plane 2, grinning.

My only other observation in Minnesota's airport is that nobody in Purple Rain had the proper local accent!  I refuse to believe the Prince film lied to me, so somebody better get their story straight.

The plane is tiny yet spacious (BIG ass seats!) and only 1/3 full.  The flight attendant, a dude younger than me, states twice that "cell phones must remain ON at all times until we land."  Heh.

Welcome to Canada.

The airport in Regina is about the physical size of this blog.  But the mood is even lighter and stress-free here.  My back slowly un-tenses with its strained New York normality… The customs lady tells me how great it is to scout films up here; and between her and the other border guards, I figure if I was carrying a transparent bag around my neck filled with cocaine and weapons, they'd be as gracious and friendly as they could be during the shootout and subsequent arrest.

A lot of fellows up here have mustaches.

I'm greeted at the airport by the fabulous Adam Green (no mustache) who, with Cory Neal, head up ArieScope Pictures(with Will Barratt) and are two of the nicest, most honest folks you'll ever met; the irony being that they're Hollywood producers.     

Green fills me in on the shoot's highlights so far and we pop by a Subway, which already makes me feel at home even though I never eat there.  Whether it's a good or bad thing, most of Regina looks like stripmall, small town USA.  The pod people have been up here, too..

I order a veggie sub, and the guy taking my order asks 'what's in a veggie sub?'

Hmm.

His co worker mentions 'steak' and the guy almost reaches for it, until I remind him that steak was declassified as a vegetable in the 60's upon further study.

I end up picking the ingredients while the guy fumbles through the task.  I figure as long as he doesn't drop an ashtray's contents in the middle of the bread or throw up, I might walk out of here with something edible. 

A few minutes later he's still making the sandwich and some friends of his enter the store and line up behind me.  One of them shouts hello to him and asks 'dude, where were you on 4/20?"  Which tells me all I need to know.

Finally I get my sammich and head back to Green's rented house, where I'll be crashing for the night.  Having read his blog about the house he's in(check it here), I'm ready for the fact that it's dead quiet, and that everything in the house especially the floor CREAKS, 70's-horror style, when the wind blows. 

And the fact that the basement is filled with the souls of dead children, naturally. 

Over our sandwiches, we spend 30 minutes talking about Paranormal Activity which had moments that scared the living lunch out of us and relies on creeping you out with little subtle sounds- like floors squeaking.

I'm invited to 'check out the basement' and I do so. 

I slowly walk down the stairs.

The only thing down there, besides a small washer/dryer behind the stairs, is a locked metal safe at the far end.   

Naturally, filled with clues/evidence of murders of the aforementioned Cub Scouts. 

Green goes outside for a phone call, leaving me in the house by myself. 

Thanks, bud.  Hopefully he dialed 9 and 1 and was just waiting for me to shriek to then hit the other button. 

I think I walked about ¾ of the basement before turning back and deciding it's best investigated around noontime.  With a shotgun.  And Max Von Sydow.

I come back up, try to shake off the adrenaline of anticipation of the next day, and my probable death/possession in the evening.  Trying my best to sleep.

SQUEAK.

To be continued..

Currently reading : Techniques of Safecracking (52054) By Wayne B. Yeager

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’Check the Mirror First’, legacies of PSYCHOs, and more
Current mood: eccentric

I walk into a nice, artsy bar/lounge in  Hoboken the other night after evening grocery shopping, to get a quick pint to soothe my nerves.  (I was already edgy, but the grocery shopping wasn't the source in case you were concerned). 

From the outside window, I can see a band's playing..I've seen some wildly cool shows here a while back, like The Lost Patrol.  The three guys on the small stage look interesting, but I'm just planning to pop in, gather thoughts, write notes, and move on. 

I step in and shout my order to the barkeep, get a better look at these 'interesting' musicians and suddenly I'm in the middle of a public access cable show. 

The youngest guy is probably 39, but they're bouncing off the walls, tearing it up; to what sounds like an Irish drinking song.  (How do you 'tear up' an Irish drinking song?  I guess you drink first, then sing it.)  Watching their mild beer bellies bounce about and the sweat coming from their receding hairlines, I'm briefly reminded of my fear that I will end up 'the old guy in the club' for some reason.  (Chris Rock explained this guy once: he's not OLD, he's just a little too old to be in the club, forcing his hipness and hoping the 22 year old ladies are somehow impressed.) 

The lead guy shouts "EVERYONE'S GETTIN' LAID TONIGHT!" 

Which causes the few of us gathered here to look around at our apparent potential hookups.

Said singer, a cross between Uncle Floyd and Buster Poindexter, seems to be playing a ping-pong paddle until I see that it's a functional ukelele.  He throws out a Freejack reference and jumps right back into the song.  Quite possibly the last reference I expect to get this evening.  (Though I find later that Buster Poindexter is IN Freejack!)  

More and more in life I think I'm actually in a tube somewhere a la The Matrix, but something's broken in my feed and that's why the weirdest pop culture references come into my life. 

 "Two more?  OK we'll do another cover, why not!?"  

These goons jump into "I think I Love You" (isn't that a Partidge Family song?) and rock the house as best it can be rocked.  At one point the main guy does 'the ass dance' while the light show plays.  I'd like to mention said light show is the bartender flicking the overhead lights on and off exactly ten times.  

This is kind of laughable but something about it is endearing..

Over in one corner, three people are REALLY enjoying the show.  It quickly becomes obvious they are the girlfriends of the band members, unless the lead singer has three dates.  He might, he's got enough energy.  They're all gorgeous, their max age is 30.  Maybe.  It's always the guys in the band.  Always.

The ladies groove and mouth the words to the lyrics, covers or not, and clap harder than anyone else.  It's a fact, "I'm in a band" is the statement at the top of the Artistic Desirability List which the government published circa 1992. 

There are maybe 11 people in the lounge counting me, but they don't care.  They're giving their all.  I go back to writing script notes.

As they begin to wrap up I realize what's endearing about these guys.  Not a trace of self-consciousness.  The lead guy looks like a nut but he thinks he's cool, and we think he's cool.  He couldn't give a CRAP about what anyone thinks.  He's having a great time.

It certainly pays to not be bombarded by self-consciousness.

Which I am 30 minutes later, when I come home, look in the mirror and realize what I forgot: that I shaved exactly half my face, wiped it clean, got distracted by a phone call, went grocery shopping and hit the tavern in Hoboken, all while sporting five days' growth on only one side: (representation)

Anyhoo....

If you're in LA next week, be sure to hit up Fangoria's Weekend of Horrors especially on Friday at I believe 5pm.  The mighty Robg of Icons of Fright will be premiering footage/clips from his new documentary THE PSYCHO LEGACY, covering the Hitchcock classic and its underrated sequels.  I've seen the promo and it rocks thine socks.  Nobody's covered the things this documentary covers about the Psycho series and its influence on its generation and future filmmakers, and just about everyone he's gathered for the show has never been at a horror convention before... so get your ass there.

Rob is also moderating the Brutal Massacre panel, a wacky comedy about the making of a horror film (think Spinal Tap).. if you hit this panel, look for two faux trailers for films that "Brutal"'s director, Harry Penderecki (David Naughton) directed..  They're actually done by yours truly.    They will be part of the ad campaign on the internet through Anchor Bay Entertainment when the film comes out. 

And I should have some cool news to relay with my next blog.  Hint:

11:51 AM - 13 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment

Bachelor Party Dynamics and The Drunken R-Tards of Hoboken
Current mood: angry

Well, another Oscar ceremony has come and gone.  I truly enjoyed it despite my Best Picture hopes (There Will Be Blood) being dashed, though "No Country" is no slouch by any means.  John Stewart ruled, Marion Cotillard is my new celebrity crush and Eric Stoltz looked pretty good on stage!