I
am absolutely honored to bring you today’s Guest Post. It’s from
an Atlanta horror legend named Nathan, who you may know better as the
madman behind Son Of Celluloid.
Nathan
surprised me last month by asking me if I would like to contribute to
SoC’s Halloween celebration. I jumped at the opportunity to be
featured alongside the likes of Allan Trautman, Sean Whalen, Cleve Hall, and Shane Morton, as well as Nathan himself. And
of course, having gotten very slightly cannier over the past couple
of years, I made sure to ask Nathan if he’d like to contribute to
Needless Things’ 31 Days of Halloween.
So
here now is an outstanding post about Nathan’s journey through
horror and how he came to be…
Son
of Celluloid
First off, I wanna thank Phantom Troublemaker for inviting me here to Needless Things as well as his participation in Son of Celluloid’s What Halloween Means To Me countdown. It’s an honor to be among folks who are both like-minded and out of theirs. I was asked to talk about my journey into horror and how Son of Celluloid came to be. The more I think about the origin of my horror geekery and how I became the SOC, the more I realize that I wasn’t your typical monster kid. It’s also fitting that, as I’m writing this, haunt season’s got me feeling both damn near crippled and happy as hell. Halloween represents my initial connections to the world of horror, and haunted attractions have been equal and parallel to horror movies as a driving force in my life. Join me as I take a trip to the Last House on Memory Lane.
It may sound
odd, but I got my first macabre jollies from the Bible. You see, I’m
the son of a Southern Baptist preacher man. In fact, until I was
nine years old we were traveling evangelists, or “Jesus Gypsies”
as I call them. Sure, I read about the Garden of Eden and Noah’s
Ark, but the stories that always appealed to me were the gory ones.
I remember more than one Sunday School teacher calling my folks in
for a concerned chat about my drawings of David holding Goliath’s
severed, dripping head aloft or my ridiculously bloody depictions of
Christ’s crucifixion. My favorite part was the Book of Revelation,
with its tales of seven-headed beasts from the sea and oceans of
blood.
As you can
imagine, horror entertainment wasn’t kosher in our household. That
kind of stuff was “of the devil.” My saving grace, however, was
that my parents weren’t against Halloween. Around All Hallow’s
Eve, there was something spooky in the air. Skeletons, fake blood,
and Elvira standups (which inspired my first sexual thoughts,
coincidentally) possessed local stores. There were tombstones and
cobwebs in the neighbor’s yard. Linus was waiting in the pumpkin
patch, and monsters mashed all over the airwaves. I wasn’t allowed
to dress up as something horrific (I ended up being Snoopy, a clown,
a hobo, a pirate, a Viking, etc), but I was allowed to go trick or
treating. I didn’t quite understand what was up with Halloween at
first, but I was drawn to it. This time of year and the trappings of
the holiday fascinated me, and it was through this avenue of exposure
that the world of horror opened up to me. When I was eight, I
recorded It’s The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, Garfield’s
Halloween Adventure, and Disney’s DTV: Monster Hits off
of TV. That VHS, which also includes the Chicken McNuggets
Frankenstein’s laboratory commercial (best ad EVER!), became my
favorite thing to watch year round. Hey man, at that point I had to
take whatever spooky entertainment I could get. In fact, I still
have that tape and pop it in from time to time.
Everything
changed one fateful night in early October of 1992. I had a black
and white TV (complete with actual dials and rabbit ears) that I had
gotten from my grandmother. It’s not that I’m that old; I’ve
just always been WAY behind where technology is concerned. Anyway, I
happened to stop on some long forgotten UHF station and saw that
Night of the Living Dead was coming up next. I had heard the
name before, though I don’t remember where, and I decided that it
was time to taste a little forbidden fruit. It was the first horror
flick I had ever seen, and something happened inside me as I sat
there spellbound. At the risk of sounding
melodramatic, I consider the first time I basked in the glow of
monochrome flesh eaters my awakening; the moment when I discovered
who I really was. I knew that this is what I wanted to be
involved with, in some way, for the rest of my life. To this day
Night of the Living Dead
remains my favorite flick of all time. It was also the first horror
movie I ever bought, starting my vast (and probably unhealthy) horror
collection off right.
About
two weeks after I saw my first horror movie, I was working in
my first haunted house. That statement is akin to saying “I had my
first beer and two weeks later I was shooting heroin.” I went with
my folks to an event put on by First Baptist Church of Snellville
called The Chilling Fields. It was an outdoor haunt that presented a
full-scale reenactment of the Book of Revelation that had captured my
imagination as a child. We’re talking rapture, four horsemen,
ghastly punishments for not taking the mark of the beast, people
rising from graves, the Battle of Armageddon, a 30 foot tall
blindingly lit Great White Throne of Judgment, demons dragging
screaming victims to Hell, the whole nine yards. Yes, there was a
sermon at the end, but there was death, blood, dismemberment,
violence, and pure, raw terror along the way. I had discovered
interactive horror entertainment, and my mind was blown. I made them
take me through again, and by the next night I was working there. In
their minds, I was doing God’s work. In my mind I was just scaring
the hell out of people. Can you imagine anything better at 12 years
old than playing with a chainsaw and having adults run in terror from
you, only to be told “good job?” Needless to say, I was hooked.
For the next few
years I lived for October when I would get to play with madness
again, but my growing taste for the macabre found other avenues. I
soon discovered that basic cable had plenty of horror to offer. I
would scour TV listings for fright flicks to record, and Saturday
afternoon proved to be a goldmine. WATL (36) and WGN (46 I think)
would each show 3 movies from 12-6, and more often than not they were
horror. They would do franchise mini-marathons some weeks, showing 3
Nightmare on Elm Streets, Friday the 13ths, Halloweens, or Childs
Plays. Other times we got random collections of whatever they
could get the broadcast rights to for cheap. Sometimes they would
switch it up and give us sword and sorcery flicks, Godzilla romps,
sci-fi adventures, or post apocalyptic action epics. Then, in 1993,
TNT debuted a show called Monstervision. For the first couple of
years it had rotating hosts. One episode where Penn & Teller
demonstrated how the special effects of Night of the Lepus
were done particularly stands out. Then, in 1995, Joe Bob Briggs
took over. You remember that big brother, cool uncle, or weird dude
at the video store that helped you navigate the landscape of
cinematic terror? For me, Joe Bob was that guy. I saw Phantasm,
The Exorcist, Carrie, The Gate, They Live, Motel Hell, Return of the
Living Dead, and many of my other favorites there for the first
time. In talking to thirty-something native Atlanta horror fans,
Monstervision almost invariably comes up as an important facet of
their fear education. You’ll notice that I end all of my reviews
on SOC with some variation of “Nathan says check it out,” a riff
on Joe Bob’s famous sign off. That’s an homage to my idol.
Monstervision
helped ease the pain when Chilling Fields eventually closed down. I
moved from there to The Tribble Mill Haunted Trail, and from there to
the legendary Blood Oaks in Snellville. The Jaycees ran it in an old
farmhouse that was well known in the area for actually being haunted.
It was all volunteer, with the proceeds going to charity. I
personally think that every haunt actor should put in a couple of
years at a no-budget charity haunt. It’s a great training ground.
You should see some of the tricks I learned to do with a chainsaw
there. Alas, after the 1998 season, the old farmhouse fell victim to
“progress.” I still curse the souls of whoever lives in the
neighborhood where it once stood.
During a slow
night in 1998, the Blood Oaks crew had closed early and gone to
Netherworld. I remember being amazed at the elaborateness of their
costumes, sets, and props. I also remember being amazed that you
could actually get paid for this. So in 1999, I became a member of
the Netherspawn. For the first year of my tenure there I scared
people on the grandest stage possible as everything from undead
ghouls to GWAR-style monster warriors. The next year, I was reunited
with my beloved toys and became the first person to operate a
chainsaw at Atlanta’s largest haunted attraction. Whether or not
my begging played into the decision to finally bring power tools into
play is open to speculation. I spent the next few years as
Netherworld’s resident chainsaw wielding maniac. My exploits are
legendary, and the name of “Chainsaw Nate” is spoken of in hushed
and reverent tones. That might be taking it a bit far, but it’s a
delusion I like to maintain so don’t tell me otherwise. In 2004 I
tore my knee to shreds in the middle of the Little 5 Points Halloween
Parade while chasing children with a chainsaw in each hand (which was
a lot of fun to tell the ER doctors), so I had to move to more
character driven, less physically demanding roles.
By my
Netherworld days, the Saturday afternoon movies had given way to
sitcom reruns and baseball games. I had outgrown their “edited for
TV” thrills anyway. Much more devastating was the loss of
Monstervision in September of that year. I was working in a video
store and had raided all of the other ones in Gwinnett County.
During my 4 years behind the rental counter, I watched thousands of
horror movies. Every single one on the shelves now existed as a
second generation VHS dub in my collection. No one had anything I
hadn’t seen. Then I moved into the Georgia State University dorms.
With Videodrome and Movies Worth Seeing both within a 10 minute
drive, a whole new world opened up to me. For years I had pored over
those bootleg movie catalogs that you got out of the Fangoria
classifieds and read them like textbooks of films I had to see one
day. Now, those mythical paragons of debauchery were all at my
fingertips. I also started haunting The Plaza Theater and The
Starlight Drive-in. I had been making weekly Rocky Horror trips to
The Plaza for a year or so, but now I could practically live there.
My first event at the Starlight was a 2001 showing of The Hunger. If
you ever get the chance to take 2 girls to a drive-in to see The
Hunger, do it! Trust me.
In 2005, I moved
to Savannah to drive tourists around in a hearse and tell ghost
stories. It was a killer gig. I didn’t believe in ghosts when I
went to “America’s most haunted city,” but I sure as hell did
when I left. I spent quite a lot of time “communing with the
spirits” on River Street as well. I could regale you with story
after story of the spookiness and debauchery that went down in those
days, but I’m not sure the statute of limitations has run out.
Home Run video kept me stocked with sick shit to watch, and the
Psychotronic Film Society hosted screenings of killer cult classics.
Sleep all day, ghost tours at night, and booze and horror movies in
the wee hours; it was a Sex, drugs, and shock & roll lifestyle
straight from horror geek heaven.
Then real life
terror struck. In December of 2010, through means we won’t
discuss, I contracted a case of Necrotizing Fascititus. That’s
flesh-eating bacteria in layman’s terms. The shit that killed Jeff
Hanneman from Slayer. If you’re not familiar with it, go Google
pictures. Nasty, huh? The doctors estimated that, when I got to the
hospital, I was less than six hours from death. I’ll spare you the
gory details, like my 14.5cm long/9cm deep incision or the 3.5 pounds
of necrotic tissue they removed, but I was basically bedridden for a
little over a year. Hell, I was one of the lucky ones. Only about a
fourth of NF patients even live to tell the tale.
Laid up and not
able to work, I had to leave my horror lover’s paradise and move
back to Loganville to languish in mom’s basement. Those were some
very dark days for me. But, as has always been the case, horror was
there to pull me through. I was in desperate need of something
positive to focus my attention on. With nothing but time on my
hands, I discovered the online horror scene. I started reading
horror blogs. I discovered a new crop of horror bands around the
world. I was amazed at the sheer amount of information available
about flicks I had never even heard of. I explored a new way to find
and connect with people who were as passionate about horror as I was.
I had been posting mini-movie reviews on facebook (there was a 420
character limit at the time), and people started telling me they were
waiting on my review before deciding to see a movie or not. That’s
when it clicked… I should start my own horror blog! Besides, I
should use that useless film studies degree for something, right? So
I figured out the bare minimum of web design, took a name from one of
my favorite Clive Barker stories, and Son of Celluloid was born.
I’m not
exaggerating when I say that writing the blog has been the most
rewarding experience of my life. It drug me out of the deep
depression I was in following my illness. It gave me a platform to
share my love of horror and hopefully add something worthwhile to the
genre that has, in a very real way, sustains me. It’s presented me
with incredible opportunities. I’ve met and collaborated with some
awesome, talented people. I got to work with Horrorhound until their
political waters became impossible to navigate. I realized a
childhood dream when I was published in Fangoria. I’ve seen films
I probably would have not gotten to otherwise. I’ve interviewed
icons and legends. And then there’s the best part… the free
movies!
These days, you
can find me all around the Atl horror scene. Since returning to my
old stomping grounds and starting SOC, I’ve gotten to watch my home
thrive as the horror capital of America. I’ve gotten involved in
MCW. I returned to my Netherworld family where I traumatize
thousands of people a year with my new love, Madagascar Hissing
Cockroaches. And, of course, I watch more horror flicks now than
ever.
So that’s my
journey from horror-deprived child to horror-obsessed adult. Horror
made me who I am, horror saved my life, and horror is what I’m all
about. It’s been a long journey, and a long article, but I’d
like to thank you for taking the ride with me. I would like, if I
may, to leave you with two parting thoughts. First, horror is just
like music or wrestling - the good stuff isn’t what the mainstream
is offering. You have to dig for it. SUPPORT INDEPENDENT HORROR.
The other is, simply, Happy Halloween from the Son of Celluloid. Too
much horror business? No such thing.
Phantom
Troublemaker vs. 31 Days of Halloween
I’m
changing the format a bit this year in order to more accurately
portray SyFy’s schedule and also to preserve my sanity. I had the
genius idea to cut and paste the schedule directly from SyFy’s page
rather than typing it out in my own format. This has saved me an
awful lot of time and also means that individual episodes are listed
rather than blocks of programming like previous years. So what I’m
going to do is provide commentary where I feel it is needed rather
than posting next to every single entry. Don’t worry – you’re
getting the same amount of hilarious, then kind of funny, then
labored, then thoroughly disenchanted Phantom content. Just in a
different way.
Like
last year, I am covering the programming from the time this posts
until the time of the next post. That means that on Fridays you are
going to be treated to a shit-ton of this stuff.
Let’s
do it!
Face
Off
is a good show. I have to say, it’s rather fortuitous that SyFy is
giving us good stuff here at the end of the month. This is the point
where I have usually run out of steam, both from how busy October is
and from being tired of writing about the same fifteen movies over
and over again. But today I get a break. Because this is just solid
TV.
Oct
29 11:00 AM Face Off Future Frankenstein
Oct
29 12:00 PM Face Off Gettin' Goosed
Oct
29 01:00 PM Face Off Subterranean Terror
Oct
29 02:00 PM Face Off Mother Earth Goddess
Oct
29 03:00 PM Face Off Trick Or Treat
Oct
29 04:00 PM Face Off Living Art
Oct
29 05:00 PM Face Off Cosmic Circus
Oct
29 06:00 PM Face Off Mortal Sins
Oct
29 07:00 PM Face Off The Laughing Dead
Oct
29 08:00 PM Face Off Dark Magic
Oct
29 09:00 PM Face Off Flights Of Fantasy
Oct
29 10:00 PM Naked Vegas Paint The Town, Red
I
have no idea what this is, but they’ve been hyping it all month. I
suppose I’m curious. Okay, well – given the title – “Paint
the Town, Red” - very strongly suggests the presence of a redhead,
you know I’ll be checking it out.
Oct
29 11:00 PM Face Off Flights Of Fantasy
Oct
29 12:00 AM Naked Vegas Paint The Town, Red
Oct
29 01:00 AM 31 Days Of Halloween Movie Ninth Gate, The
Oct
29 04:00 AM The Twilight Zone Mute
Oct
29 05:00 AM Paid Programming
Oct
30 06:00 AM Paid Programming
Oct
30 08:00 AM Ghost Hunters, Season 8 Dead & Breakfast
Oct
30 09:00 AM Ghost Hunters, Season 8 Moonshine & Madness
Oct
30 10:00 AM Ghost Hunters, Season 8 City Hell
And
I am definitely
tired of picking on the various ghost hunting shows. But I have to
give SyFy credit for showing them. I may not be entertained by the
format, but I have to admit that these shows are some of the most
appropriate Halloween fare the channel could offer. Just because I
don’t like it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate what’s going
on. And like I’ve said before – the show has been on for almost a
decade – clearly I am in the minority.
-Phantom
Thanks for the invite. Had fun getting all nostalgic.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for participating. That was a great read.
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