By J.R. Taylor
There was a time when fanatical film buffs wrote out their own scripts to old movies, just so they could mimeograph them and pass them around to each other. That was when a film writer like Danny Peary ruled the planet. His trilogy of Cult Movies books published in the '80s was a supercool celebration of lost weird epics ranging from the silent-era Napol? (1927) to Phantom of the Paradise (1974).
The first volume came out when video stores were just gearing up in the '80s. Peary's books gave plenty of film fans vital clues in knowing which titles to pursue. Peary would go on to chronicle more great films in 1986's Guide for the Film Fanatic and celebrate several Mr. Skin icons in 1991 with Cult Movie Stars.
Peary could even provide fresh insight into critics' darlings such as Citizen Kane (1941) and Psycho (1960). Sadly, after writing Alternate Oscars in 1993, Peary chose to concentrate on writing about sports. Still, he left enough of an impact that he's sorely lacking from Midnight Movies: From the Margin to the Mainstream, a documentary that premiered earlier this month on the Starz Encore channel.
The movie centers on the midnight movie roster that ruled Manhattan in the '70s--El Topo (1970), Night of the Living Dead (1968), The Harder They Come (1972), Pink Flamingos (1972), and a few more--and it's all very interesting. Peary, however, could've provided vital insight into the real development of cult movies. It's an important contribution that the Starz people missed but that Mr. Skin is glad to provide while talking to Peary from his Manhattan home.
As one of the original authors writing about cult movies, you must have done your time at midnight screenings.
Actually, when I decided to do the first Cult Movies book, one of my reasons was to go out and see the midnight movies. I wasn't an old man, but I was settled down and married. I think I saw four of the movies in the Midnight Movies documentary as midnight shows. I specifically remember going out to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) and Eraserhead (1977).
What would have been your own take on the films covered in Midnight Movies?
John Waters is seen talking about how the midnight movies became the mainstream. I totally agree with that, but my theory is that these films remain important because they're all telling stories. These films are all personal visions, and that's always been the true potential of movies. The filmmakers are all people that you would never invite to the same party. They wouldn't know each other, and the people in their films would never know each other. I also don't agree when people in the documentary talk about how the films are dated. Maybe Night of the Living Dead doesn't shock like it used to, but--in most cases--those midnight movies are also the best films those directors ever made.
The documentary dwells on the classics, but what about films that didn't really take off as midnight movies?
I think the movies that tried to become midnight movies--like Forbidden Zone (1980) and Zachariah (1971)--were different just for being different. They didn't work at the time. People don't make midnight movies now. They make independent films and go in saying that if it's not a big success at least it'll have some kind of cult. That's a big difference.
I wouldn't root for a film to become a midnight movie. Looking back at that era, the ones that took off were really the best choices. Basket Case (1982) is a good example of a film that came after the craze and would have been part of the whole phenomenon. There's a real intelligence behind that film. Nowadays, people who go to midnight movies like Napoleon Dynamite (2004) and Showgirls (1995) are just looking for something different.
Have you been surprised at which movies haven't developed more of a following?
I thought The First Nudie Musical (1976) would become a bigger cult film. Andy Warhol's Bad (1977) has sort of faded away, and Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) has become an even bigger cult hit. My original definition of a cult movie is an obscure film that fell through the cracks. That's one of the reasons I did those books. Some people use the Cult Movies books as a checklist, and I often hear from them that it's hard to see El Topo and Jane Asher in Deep End (1971) (Picture: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4).
Since your Cult Movies books preceded a lot of cult-film craziness, you must have seemed like a long-lost friend to film fans.
You wouldn't believe how many letters I used to get out of these books. We might figure that everyone already knows about Roger Corman's Little Shop of Horrors (1960), but I'd get letters from people in small towns telling me how they didn't know anyone else liked their favorite films, and that they weren't the only ones. My first book was called Close-Ups, which was about 140 articles written by critics about movie stars. I'd get very personal mail from people telling me about how their favorite movie star affected them. I really got an appreciation for how movies affect people.
The midnight-movies scene must have also felt like a fellowship.
In the '70s it was a rite of passage for a film fan or a college student to see those movies. I think it's interesting that nobody ever seemed to be part of the repeat audience for more than one of the films. I remember being apprehensive about seeing Rocky Horror for the first time. It had a reputation at the time that you needed to tell your relatives where you were going, and that they should call the police if you don't come back. It turned out to be totally different, of course. Eraserhead didn't have the reputation that you'd be in danger but that you'd see sickening images from which you'd never recover.
And then the mystique died with the advent of home video, and now film fans can get together by posting on internet boards.
The home-movie craze also killed off a lot of repertory theaters. And college campuses quit showing old movies, which was a real shame. Now we just wait for the video--which is a phrase that's kind of blasphemy to people who grew up going to theaters.
At least it's easier to enjoy skinsational actresses. Are there any modern actresses who'd be worthy of making it into your Cult Movie Stars book?
Maggie Gyllenhaal is a perfect candidate. She's very smart and very political and gets herself in trouble. Many of her roles are sexual in nature. She discusses her roles like I would. There was one interview--probably for Secretary (2002) (Picture: 1 - 2 - 3)--where she was discussing sex as communication, which is what I wrote about when I reviewed Last Tango in Paris (1972). Parker Posey, too, and Natasha Lyonne. Cult-movie stars require some kind of quality that entrances you. I'm kind of fascinated by that aspect. Why do people respond like that, where they have to see every movie an actress was in? Why did I like Maureen O'Sullivan in those Tarzan movies? I know it wasn't just me.
