Posts Tagged ‘Caveman’

Death by Fruitcake Begins Production, Thanks to Barb

Tuesday, August 20th, 2024
Death by Fruitcake, auditorium set with cast and crew at work.
Day one on the set of Death by Fruitcake.

When this update appears, we’ll be in our second day of shooting Death by Fruitcake. The week since I last posted found us heavily in post-production mode. It’s been intense but gratifying to see things coming together.

The real pleasure has been working so closely with my wife on this project. She had been intimately involved in my productions – really our productions – in the ten-plus years we did quite a little bit of indie filmmaking. Mommy and Mommy’s Day saw her filling a production manager role, and those productions would not have been possible without her. The same is true of Real Time: Siege at Lucas Street Market (2001) and Eliot Ness: An Untouchable Life (2005), as well as my two documentaries, Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane (1998) and Caveman: V.T. Hamlin and Alley Oop (2005).

She has an unfailing eye for detail and a gift for dealing with all sorts of people. And her storytelling abilities are obvious to anyone who’s read her short stories or the novels we’ve done together, in particular the Antiques (Trash ‘n’ Treasures) mystery series.

But there were travails involved with all of those productions, proud as I am (and I think she is too) of all of them. Mommy was a baptism by fire. Difficulties with the director led to letting him go after the first two weeks of a four-week shoot (I was producer and writer), meaning I had to fill the director’s role without any experience or prep, just years of being a movie buff. When I lost the Dick Tracy scripting gig after fifteen years, indie filmmaking was another way to make some money…I thought.

And we had some success, particularly with the two Mommy movies, but my co-producer – my best friend since high school – stole a good deal of the money (he was convicted of a felony for doing so). Nonetheless, we did get a sale to Lifetime where Mommy aired in primetime, and both it and the sequel were chainwide Blockbuster buys (a big deal in those days). I was deeply involved in filmmaking during those years, which included the Road to Perdition (2002) sale and the Quarry movie, The Last Lullaby (2008), which I co-scripted. Several short films happened during that period as well.

But the betrayal by my former best friend and the many difficulties of indie filmmaking – getting the money to make even modest productions was (and is) a nightmare – had me walking away from that pursuit, though there have been some screenplays produced (by others) and, thankfully, occasional options on my books for TV and movies (and on screenplays). CBS Films has Eliot Ness and the Mad Butcher (2020, by Brad Schwartz and me) under option right now, and I think Nolan is still under option, too. Might have run out while I wasn’t looking, though.

Anyway, indie filmmaking was a past pursuit. The closest I came to it was writing two Mike Hammer audio books for Stacy Keach and a full cast, one of which won an Audie for Best Original Work (The Little Death) and the other (Encore for Murder) was similarly nominated, and produced as a play starring Gary Sandy in venues at Owensboro, Kentucky, and Clearwater, Florida. Then I was asked to allow Encore to be produced, radio-play-style, here in Muscatine, Iowa, as a fund raiser for the local Art Center.

I consented, as some of you know, and brought in my Mommy’s Day co-star Gary Sandy (WKRP in Cincinnati, of course) to play Mike Hammer. When I attended the first rehearsal (Gary would be coming in a few days in advance of the actual production), I was pleasantly surprised to find the local cast very good.

Barb had endorsed my involvement (I was co-director as well as writer) but wanted no participation. She was retired from movies and anything vaguely related. The theft of the Mommy money had threatened our house and she remained understandably bitter. But I encouraged her to come to the next rehearsal to see if I was kidding myself thinking these local thespians were pretty darn good. She came and agreed.

Then when Gary Sandy came in and did a terrific job as Hammer in rehearsal, I contacted my longtime collaborator, Phil Dingeldein (director of photographer on all of my features), and convinced him to come to Muscatine to shoot the one live performance. He did this (and shot a dress rehearsal, too, to give us extra coverage). The idea was to use it as a bonus feature on our revised updated version of Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane, which we did (it’s available from VCI at Amazon right now).

Barb stayed pretty much aloof from that production, for which Chad Bishop (who was a cast member) worked with Phil on the Encore shoot and edited it into a movie or a program or some damn thing. It came out pretty well, I think, and is available on DVD separately from VCI as well as on the Spillane documentary.

Anyway, that experience got the indie filmmaking juices flowing again and Chad and I (with Phil onboard as d.p.) decided to do Blue Christmas, which I’ve been discussing here quite a bit. Barb gave her blessing but refused to be a part of it. She’d had enough of the hard work and misery that accompanies any kind of filmmaking.

But a few days out from the production (this was last October), I had some very stressful situations relating to the production that sent me back into a-fib. And Barb got on board. She again made the production run smoothly. Ask anyone who the MVP on Blue Christmas was and they’ll say Barb.

Now we’re doing one more – Death by Fruitcake. I tricked her into being part of it by basing this one on our Antiques series, specifically a novella, Antiques Fruitcake in Antiques Ho Ho Homicides. She is caught up in it, with me, and doing a stellar job. It’s unimaginable without her.

Ask anybody in the cast or on the crew.

Again, she has made it clear this is her last production. I believe her. I always do. So this is probably my last indie movie, too – unless somebody gives me enough money to hire a production manager as good as Barbara Collins. Which is itself a long shot for more than one reason….


Barbara Allan

Blue Christmas, by the way, is already available for pre-order at Amazon (it’s a November 11, 2024 release).

And you can read about Blue Christmas at Blu-ray.com, right here.

* * *

Just in case I haven’t given you enough reasons to spend money on me this time around, keep in mind the clock is ticking on the Kickstarter effort to back True Noir: the Assassination of Anton Cermak, based on my novel True Detective in a fully immersive audio drama in ten parts and written by (again) me. It has an amazing cast, and a great director (Robert Meyer Burnett).

Scroll down a ways in this Digital Bits column and get the skinny on True Noir.

True Noir logo

M.A.C.

Blue Christmas Is a Wrap!

Tuesday, October 31st, 2023

Jake Marley (Chris Causey) and Richard Stone (Rob Merritt) in the private eye’s office.

We completed production on Blue Christmas last evening, and will be picking up various things and stuff at Muscatine Community College (our gracious host) this afternoon. Before I discuss the shoot, let me provide some background, requesting patience from those of you who have heard this story before (perhaps more than once).

The day before Thanksgiving 1992, I was notified by mail in a letter from a particularly odious editor at Tribune Media Services that my services as writer of the Dick Tracy strip were no longer required. I had done the writing of the strip, taking over for creator Chester Gould, since late 1977 – a fifteen-year run plus a few months.

Actually, they had already picked up my contract by not notifying me into I was three months into the new contract period, which was an automatic pick-up. But when I called the gracious Robert Reed, the recently retired head of the TMS, he talked me out of suing the Trib. He had hired me, and he deplored the decision of the editor (who had not hired me), but reminded me how many lawyers the Trib had, and how costly it would be for me to fight a battle even in the right. Then he said something I will always appreciate him for.

“You don’t need to worry about your next job,” he said. “You’re Max Allan Collins.”

I had needed reminding on that point. My friend and future DC Comics editor, Mike Gold, had already told me, “You really should have moved on after ten years. It stopped serving your career at that point.”

Nonetheless, it was a blow. And the same day, my agent informed me that – just a few weeks after winning the Best Novel Shamus award for Stolen Away – my Nate Heller contract had been dropped by Bantam Books, who had screwed up the series by publishing the hardcover and trade edition simultaneously, and making my hardcover sales on that title look like shit in the computers.

So I had lost everything, career-wise – both Tracy and Heller. I scrambled and did a few short stories for my pals Ed Gorman and Marty Greenberg, God bless their memories, but mostly I was at a loss. Untethered. And as close to a writing block as I had ever got. Thanks to Ed and Marty I kept going. But other than those assignments (writing for their theme anthologies), I had hit the wall.

Then on Christmas Eve 1992, after the festivities were over (my family has always celebrated Christmas Eve, rather than Christmas Day), I had an idea and began to write. A Christmas Carol was one of my favorite stories, the Alistair Sim film of it in particular, and my favorite single detective novel was The Maltese Falcon. I had the stray thought that the two stories might be effectively combined, and began to type. I have no idea how long I worked – most of the night, as it was a single session – but the result was a fifty-page novella, “A Wreath for Marley.”

I am not by inclination a short story writer, but as soon as I’d finished it, I knew “Marley” was special. Maybe not to anybody else, but to me. And over the years it’s been in several anthologies and ultimately the lead story in a holiday-themed collection of my shorter stories, Blue Christmas (available from Wolfpack in the collection’s most current incarnation).

The writing of “Marley” ended my creative logjam. Soon I had sold Carnal Hours, one of the best Heller novels, to Dutton in a multiple-book contract; and – on the fly, at WonderCon – sold the idea of Road to Perdition to a DC editor who wondered if I might be interested in writing a noir graphic novel. Mike Gold and Robert Reed had been right – losing Dick Tracy was like Dean Martin breaking up with Jerry Lewis – teaming with Jerry was the best thing that ever happened to Dino (Martin said) and the next best thing had been breaking up with Jerry.

Another result of losing the Tracy strip was finally pursuing my interest in filmmaking. In 1994 I wrote The Expert in Hollywood for director William Lustig, and wrote and directed Mommy here in Iowa. The latter feature – in which Patty McCormack portrayed a grown-up variation on her famous evil kid role in The Bad Seed – became a video store hit and sold to Lifetime as a movie of the week. Its success led to my scripting a feature film version of “A Wreath for Marley,” which I called Blue Christmas. We were in pre-production of that project when the success of Mommy made it necessary to follow up with a sequel, Mommy’s Day, causing us to temporarily shelve Blue Christmas. The thought was to do it next.

That did not happen. While Mommy’s Day was also a video store hit, we did not get a cable TV sale, and then my producer – only my best friend from high school days and the best man at Barb and my wedding – stole our money. I was never able to mount a full-throated production again. Our budgets of half a million and a quarter million for Mommy 1 and 2 respectively were never to be repeated.

I managed to stay active in indie filmmaking for another decade. I served three terms as president of the Iowa Motion Picture Association. I was able to get funded for two documentaries (Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane and Caveman: V.T. Hamlin and Alley Oop) and did three short films with my Mommy director of photography, Phil Dingeldein. Phil and I mounted Real Time: Siege at Lucas Street Market for around $10,000 (shooting mostly on security cameras) and had a similar budget (thanks to a Humanities Iowa grant) with Eliot Ness: An Untouchable Life. I wrote numerous screenplays and sold a few, including some that were never produced, with a short Quarry film, “A Matter of Principal” leading to the feature The Last Lullaby, which I co-wrote.

Then, of course, there was Road to Perdition with its big-name cast and Academy Award nominations and so on, which led to Phil and me trying to get the sequel, Road to Purgatory, off the ground. Much time was spent on that and we came heart-breakingly close several times. While various screenwriting projects continued (and still do), gradually I came to accept that my film directing days were over.

I did not consider this a tragedy as my fiction writing was trucking along. A Quarry TV series was produced by HBO for their Cinemax network and I was able to do a couple of scripts for it (one for the never-produced second season). Filmmaking was a part of my credentials and that was nice but nothing I was actively pursuing any longer.

Then last year I co-produced the “Mike Hammer” Golden Age Radio-style play, Encore for Murder, originally an audio full-cast production with Stacy Keach. I had done the play twice before (in Owensboro, Kentucky, and Clearwater, Florida) with Gary Sandy as Hammer. Gary and I were friends going back to his co-starring role in Mommy’s Day. This latest Encore production was a fundraiser for the local art center/museum, and Gary generously donated his time.

The play came together so well that literally a few days before its single performance, I called Phil Dingeldein and asked, “Do you want to make a movie this weekend?”

As some of you already know, Phil came down and he and Chad Bishop (who was the on-stage foley guy in the play) pooled their resources to shoot two dress rehearsals and our one performance. Then Chad and I spent a month or so editing the footage into a movie of sorts – or maybe it’s a television program, hard to say exactly what animal it is.

At any rate, the result, like the performance itself, was surprisingly good. Phil and I were already mounting an expanded version of the Spillane documentary as a 75th anniversary (of Mike Hammer) release for VCI. We showed Encore for Murder to Bob Blair, the president of VCI, pitching it as a Blu-ray bonus feature for the expanded documentary. Bob not only snatched it right up for that purpose, he planned a release on DVD of Encore itself. Both will be out well before year’s end.

So my filmmaking juices were flowing again. I proposed to Chad Bishop that we mount a follow-up Golden Age radio-style production of Blue Christmas. This morphed into a stage play that I planned to shoot much as we had Encore, only with more elaborate pre-production.

Finally I decided just to shoot it as a movie.

The script needed to be reworked from one that had half a dozen locations to one location in which all the the Scrooge-like visions take place in the private eye hero’s office – a single realistic set that would serve surrealistic purposes.

Phil came on board, taking a week’s vacation to shoot it (with his sometime accomplice, the talented and skilled Liz Toal), meaning we had to mount the principal photography in a single week. I approached Muscatine Community College about using their black box theater as, essentially, a film sound stage for the week-long shoot, and they got on board.

We had been led to believe we had a good shot at a Greenlight Iowa grant for $50,000, which would have been tight but sufficient. We mounted an Indie Go Go campaign to raise supplemental funding and reached our $7000 goal. But the grant did not come to us – although frankly we were never contacted about that after jumping through many an official hoop (never even informed we weren’t getting it, which stalled us while we waited for news that never arrived).

So finally we built upon the Indie Go Go money, took our own payment completely out of the budget (Chad, Phil and me), and got one $5000 investor and a few more donations, coming up with a princely $14,000 to produce the equivalent of a $300,000 to $500,000 indie. This was a big part of planning to do the film in (choke) six days.

For a long time, Gary Sandy was going to play Marley, but other commitments and a reluctance to work during the actor’s strike (although our micro-budgeted production was not a target of the strike) caused Gary to drop out a few weeks before shooting began. That left us with a cast consisting of talent from the Quad Cities, Cedar Rapids and Muscatine, with almost everyone from Encore for Murder back again.

So how did the shoot go?

The professionalism of Phil and Liz was a breathtaking thing to watch. Chad Bishop wore more hats than Barthlomew Cubbins – lighting, audio, producer, actor. I had caught Covid about a month out and got cleared to work weeks before the production would begin; so I was tired and exhausted going in…but that didn’t stop me. I would say I got my stride back by the second or at the latest third day.


Barb and Max on set at Blue Christmas.

Our set was a thing of beauty thanks to Bill Turner, a veteran of local theater; and Bill took on a role in the production as well, doing a fine job. Our lead was the remarkable Rob Merritt from Cedar Rapids, who has many movie roles under his belt and held up under the burden of being in virtually every scene. Among his co-stars was national celebrity Alisabeth Von Presley, who looks like something out of a Russ Meyer dream and performed like a dream, period. The entire cast did stellar work, including Encore veterans Chris Causey, Rene Mauck, Cassidy Probasco, Brian Linderman, Keith Porter, Judy Wilson, and Evan Maynard. Tommy Ratkiewicz-Stierwalt, Chase Bishop, Kim Furness, Dave Juehring, Tracy Pelzer-Timm and Scot Gehre, among others, were also in a very talented cast of twenty-four. Corey Ruby did the special effects, and my old Seduction of the Innocent pal Chris Christensen has signed on to do the score.


Director of Photography Phil Dingeldein gets a role…

…and lead actor Rob Merritt films a scene.

We worked long days – seven a.m. till at least seven p.m. On all but one day, I went home on the lunch hour and took a nap. The production was both brutal and rewarding, and it’s doubtful I’ll ever be foolish enough to put myself through something like this again…although I’m glad to have done this one last time.


Special effects man Corey Ruby takes pride in applying bullet holes to lovely Alisabeth Von Presley.

Barb had sworn not to be part of this crazy effort, but she was right there with me on the first day and thereafter. She ran craft services and did so very much more. Nathan Collins and Matt Clemens were there every day running security (MCC was in session). Nate did everything from man a boom pole to shoot footage on a high-end camera.

Of course, we’re not finished. Chad and I (and Chad’s cohort Jeremy Ferguson) will be shooting Second Unit material, chiefly establishing shots (once the snow starts to fall here). And right away we will begin editing, a process I enjoy a great deal.

I will report here as we move forward, but I can say that at long last, the promise of Blue Christmas is being fulfilled. If we’re not the best goddamn fourteen-thousand dollar movie ever made, I defy you to show me one that is.

* * *

Despite some stellar reviews on Amazon, Too Many Bullets remains mostly ignored by critics elsewhere. As I mentioned previously, none of the trades – Publisher’s Weekly, Kirkus, Library Journal or Booklist – had reviewed it.

I am going to get the book into some reviewers’ hands, but in the meantime, if you’ve read and enjoyed the novel, please review it at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Goodreads and elsewhere, and if you have your own blog, talk it up there.

There have been a few notices, like this one.

And this.

M.A.C.

Good Call

Tuesday, October 19th, 2010

Last week a guy died who most of you never heard of. His name was Steve Henke. He was my age – 62 – and he lived most of his life in Iowa City, Iowa, where he worked for many years at the University of Iowa video production center, but also freelanced in various capacities in the film business for probably forty years. Lately he lived out west, but he’s coming home to Iowa soon.

Steve was a grizzled veteran of the movie wars – he struck me as either a benign biker or a dangerous hippie…I was never quite sure which. He was introduced to me by Phil Dingeldein, my collaborator (Director of Photography/Editor) on most of my movie projects. Back in 1994, Phil recommended I hire Steve to be gaffer on MOMMY, my first indie movie. Ultimately the credit Steve took (and earned) was Lighting Design.

Steve with Patty
Steve Henke and star Patty McCormack on the set of MOMMY (1994)

On MOMMY, as writer and executive producer, when things turned disastrous and I wound up having to take over the director’s chair two weeks into production, I already knew the two indispensable people were Dingeldein and Henke. I scheduled a meeting with them, and revealed I intended to become director – knowing that without their okay, and their support, I wouldn’t have a chance. They backed me, and supported me, and taught me. Between Phil and Steve, there wasn’t much about film and video production that they didn’t know or hadn’t experienced. What I know – and frankly I know quite a bit – I learned from those two. (Them and my actor pal Mike Cornelison, who had also encouraged me to believe in my ability to direct the picture).

Phil Dingeldein is genial guy – everybody loves Phil. Steve Henke was cantankerous by nature and design – a shop foreman who ruled his blue-collar minions through fear and respect. When MOMMY’S DAY came along, I tapped Henke to be my First Assistant Director as well as Lighting Designer (we wore multiple hats on our low-budget projects). He and I did the bulk of the pre-production work and had broken down every single scene, down to every single set-up, before we stepped on set. My God, but I learned so much from this rough-edged, belligerent, generous, sweet man.

Steve with MAC
Henke and Collins on set of REAL TIME: SIEGE AT LUCAS STREET MARKET (2000)

When Henke – again my First Assistant Director – introduced himself to the crew and cast on the first day of REAL TIME: SIEGE AT LUCAS STREET MARKET, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am your worst nightmare.” Also a director’s dream First A.D. His bad cop presence allowed me to become a much-beloved good cop. Mainly what Steve did was move things along faster. And faster.

On the other hand, one of the best known stories about Henke came from the time he spent seemingly hours trying to light a set to his satisfaction on MOMMY’S DAY – specifically, a bedroom decorated with ironic clown dolls and clown paintings. One clown doll seated in a window had drawn his obsessive attention. “Steve!” Dingeldein cried out. “Let’s go! You’re lighting the clown!” This was followed by much laughter, and Henke’s grumpy capitulation. From that day henceforth on my sets, taking too much time has become known as “lighting the clown.”

Steve Henke was also my producer and editor on the documentary CAVEMAN: V.T. HAMLIN & ALLEY OOP. He helped me get the project taken on by the University of Iowa video center, and it was his last project there before retiring. He is essentially the co-author (along with producer Mark Lambert) of that documentary, which may represent my best piece of filmmaking. Henke went with me to the San Diego Comic Con to shoot famous cartoonists like Will Eisner, Trina Robbins and Stan Sakai, and he loved rubbing shoulders with talent like that, and inhaled the pageantry and excess of that event.

Henke was an original. He gave me an ultimatum once that if I didn’t ban the producer from the set, he would quit – I banned the producer. On that same production, I bailed Henke out of jail when it turned out he was driving on a long-expired license. I like to think we were good friends. Still, he was merciless in his criticism of my work – he once said, “Collins will write something wonderfully nasty then spoil it with a sentimental wind-up, and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it” – but also extravagant in his praise. When I did my edit of CAVEMAN on my home video recorder, and he told me I was always within a frame – if you know film and video editing, you know a frame is less than an eyeblink – from the perfect edit point. I treasure that remark.

I have few regrets in life. Maybe three regrets. Two are that I never saw the Beatles or Bobby Darin perform live. The other is that I didn’t get to do another film project with Steve. I haven’t captured him here – that’s almost impossible. But I’ll wind up with my favorite story about him, which I’ve shared with many people over the years.

For MOMMY’S DAY, in pre-production, Steve and I designed a shot that would have a camera on a jib sweep down the table in a prison’s visitor’s room and wind up as a close-up of our star, Patty McCormack. We both were pleased with that, but when the day came, we were up against the clock where our child actress Rachel Lemieux was concerned (she could only work a specified number of hours per day, by SAG rules). So I went to my First A.D. and said, “Scrap the jib shot. Too elaborate. We’re running behind.”

He looked at me with his twin evil-eye gaze and put his nose a quarter inch from mine. “Are you telling me we’re scrapping the jib shot?”

“We’re scrapping the jib shot.”

“You’re sure you want to do that? It’s the best shot in the damn picture!”

“I’m sure.”

He threw his baseball cap on the floor. “Speaking as your creative collaborator, I want to register my extreme disappointment in your judgment.” He picked his hat off the floor, snugged it in place, and said, “Speaking as your First A.D. – good call!”

And he rushed off to the light the next set-up.

Rest in peace, old friend. Wish I could bail you out of this one.

M.A.C.

Steve at Premiere
Henke on the red carpet at the world premiere of REAL TIME at the Capitol Theater in Davenport, Iowa

Caveman Rocks

Tuesday, December 8th, 2009

A lovely review for my documentary feature, CAVEMAN: V.T. HAMLIN & ALLEY OOP, just came in from Craig Clarke. It really does a great job of describing not only the film but my hidden agendas — i.e., that it’s my secret biography of Chester Gould. If you haven’t ordered CAVEMAN from Amazon or some other source, this review might just convince you it’s time.

A bunch of ink got spilled in Chicago over my upcoming trip to spend some time with sports commentator Mike North and producer Carl Amari (he’s the guy behind THE NEW ADVENTURES OF MIKE HAMMER: THE LITTLE DEATH). I hope to do a screenplay based on Mike’s incredible story — he rose from hot dog vendor to Chicago media superstar — and maybe even direct it. My father, who was the kind of sports nut who would watch the Venezuelan Beaver Toss Championship at four in the morning on ESPN32, would be proud.

Toho Collection

The new issue of ASIAN CULT CINEMA (issue #64 — Fourth Quarter 2009) is out. I don’t think I’ve ever really talked much here about my regular gig at the magazine. It’s edited by Tom Weisser, a great guy and one of the first to really recognize both the artistic worth and sheer entertainment value of Asian genre cinema. Back in the day, I used to buy from Tom gray-market VHS tapes of John Woo and Jackie Chan, among many others, and I’ve been writing a column for him called FOREIGN CRIMES since the start of his great newstand mag. The column is supposed to be about Asian crime films, but I wander afield. This time I talk about the DVD set ICONS OF SCI-FI: THE TOHO COLLECTION, and explore the noir aspects of these fun movies from the house of Gojira (Godzilla to you poor Westernized fools). The magazine’s been around 64 issues, and I’ve had columns in all but two of ‘em (special issues dedicated to nothing but photographs).

We had a flurry of comments last week, after I attacked the film OLD DOGS (nobody defended it). Somehow it became a discussion about how I think STAR TREK THE MOTION PICTURE is a great film, and how a lot people think I’m out of my mind. This week Barb and I went to the much-lauded Wes Anderson stop-motion film THE FABULOUS MR. FOX, which Rotten Tomatoes gives a 92 percent “fresh” rating, meaning almost all the critics love it. We hated it. Anderson’s movies keep getting more and more self-indulgently quirky and this is the bottom of the barrel. Adult movie critics may like this kid’s movie, but the kids at our screening didn’t. If I’d heard one more precious folksy lick on the banjo, I’d have jammed drink straws into my ears. If the movie were any more smug, I’d have slapped it.

I mention this not to encourage defenses of the film (it doesn’t need any — everybody loves this movie but Barb and me). Rather, I feel that after last week’s post I need to make a couple of things clear. First, narrative art (really, all art) is collaborative — it’s the artist and the recipient of that art, and none of us appreciate or experience art in the same fashion. We each have our own baggage, which you can call taste, but it includes experience, prejudices, and so much more. So I hate arguing about art. What works for you may not work for me (you remember me — the guy who thinks STAR TREK THE MOTION PICTURE is a masterpiece?).

Second, I am not interested in converting people to my opinions — I’m glad to share my opinions, and hope they elicit smiles and shrugs or some kind of response, but don’t expect to bring you around to my way of thinking, since thinking isn’t the point, or at least isn’t all of the point — art is something you experience. One man’s delicious taco dinner is another man’s Aztec Two Step. Similarly, you are advised not to try to convert me to your way of thinking. It’s just not going to happen.

Having said that (to quote CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM), I have a pretty good record at being out in front of movies that turned out to grow in critical and public stature. I was writing about KISS ME DEADLY being a great film in college film class in 1970. I was going to every screening I could locate of PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE when it was supposed to be an embarrassment. On the other hand, the ROCKY HORROR sequel, SHOCK TREATMENT — a wonderful film — has yet to get its due (but at least it’s on DVD).

I have faith. You people will catch up with me. Just don’t ask me to encourage you.

M.A.C.