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THE FRANTIC FLICKER
"The movie magazine that isn't..."
----Serving nonsense on a golden platter since 2004.----
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Issue #16: May 29, 2004
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www.franticflicker.com
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"With the bikers played as psycho killers, and the backwoods beauties
played for laughs, the end result feels like a rollicking, family-style
action/comedy... with two rapes and ten murders.”
- Frank Henenlotter, describing a movie called “The Girls From Thunder
Strip”
IN THIS ISSUE:
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==>Late and Laterer
==>Brain Damage
==>Superatomic Giveaway of the Week
==>Whodunnit?
LATE AND LATERER
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Hey folks, and welcome once again to that realm of shocking tardiness
sometimes known as your friendly neighborhood Frantic Flicker. I’m at my
parents’ house in Delaware, and enjoying myself so much that I put this
out late again. Oops. At any rate, This is issue 16, where we pay minor
tribute to a major person in the realm of weird and good movies – the
esteemed Mr. Frank Henenlotter.
Most folks know Frank Henenlotter as the writer/ director guy who
brought us Basket Case, Frankenhooker, and the movie that this week’s story
steals its title from – Brain Damage. But there’s another great side to
this guy: his fabulous work with Something Weird Video, first with his
VHS Sexy Shockers from the Vaults, and continuing as SWV hits DVD in a
big way, has resulted in the unearthing of a number of crazy classics
that might otherwise have just sat there for another decade or more.
From The Curious Doctor Hump to the Godmonster of Indian Flats,
Henenlotter has brought a bunch of films out into the open and assured that
they’ll be seen by more people today than they ever were during their
original respective releases. And that’s good.
If I was a member of Congress, I’d make sure he got a medal, but I
think that liking the same kinds of movies that he does pretty much
squashes my chances of that. So instead, it’s just this. Hey, you do what you
can.
Eric
This story is for those with a distinct lack of discerning taste, an
appetite for the ridiculous, and maybe even for those suffering from a
teensy bit of...
BRAIN DAMAGE
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“This is so boring. Don’t you have any other flavors?” I hated it
when she said things like that, especially to people she didn’t know.
The guy behind the counter didn’t seem to mind at all, though. He
probably got ten or twelve of these a day.
“Well, if you can’t decide, just go with an old standby. When’s
the last time you actually tasted vanilla? It’s really quite good.”
“Boring.” I go for Rocky Road every time, just to avoid situations
like this, where I won’t be able to decide. But Bernadette is
Bernadette. She’s got to have her ice cream, and it’s got to be weird.
“Cherry Butter Brickle?”
“Didn’t like it.”
“Almond Apple Crunch.”
“Are you kidding? That stuff tastes like an old tire.” We’d been
in this situation before, more than once, and every time, Bernadette had
finally been able to decide on a flavor. Sometimes I finished my ice
cream first, but she was always able to decide eventually.
The clerk threw his arms up in the air. “Then maybe you just don’t
like ice cream.”
“Of course I do. Your store is just lousy. You don’t care about
ice cream, ice cream cones, or ice cream eaters. Come on, Albert, we’re
leaving.” She grabbed me by the ear, the way she does when she’s mad at
the world. It hurt, but I tried not to complain. Underneath it all, I knew
she was really a good person. She pulled me towards the door.
“Wait!” said the clerk, “I have an idea.” Bernadette whirled and
glared.
“What?”
“It’s a new flavor, a new formula that no one’s really tasted yet.
You might say it’s in the experimental stages.”
“Experimental stages, huh? What’s it called?”
“Peanut Butter Elvis.”
Bernadette’s face lit up in a way it usually only does when she’s
asleep or unwrapping a gift. “What’s in it?”
“It’s ice cream. Highly experimental, but ice cream.”
“Gimme two scoops.”
The clerk tried to insist that it was too early in the process for
Peanut Butter Elvis to be eaten two scoops at a time, but being
insistent against insistence is Bernadette’s specialty. The clerk went into
the back of the store, and emerged moments later with a large waffle cone
containing two scoops of normal-looking ice cream.
“This is it?”
The clerk nodded. Bernadette took a lick of the ice cream, and
nodded to me. I ordered my Rocky Road, and we left.
In the car, Bernadette said something I’d never heard her say
before: “Elvis Aaron Presley was born January 8th, 1935 in East Tupelo,
Mississippi.”
“Is that right? I’d wondered about that sometimes. That’s the same
Elvis Presley that was a rock singer, right?”
“Elvis began his professional singing career at Sun Records in
Memphis in 1954.”
“You don’t say.” But she did. She kept reciting more and more
facts about Elvis, getting downright obscure at times, going into his
weight at birth and death, intimate details of his love life, and the number
of Cadillacs he gave to fans. Since Bernadette is generally a fan of
show tunes, this sudden interest in rock and roll caught me off guard. In
point of fact, though, it was sort of pleasant. That night before we
went to bed, instead of giving me a list of things I had to do before she
woke up the next day, Bernadette told me that Elvis Presley had been
nominated for 14 Grammy Awards, but had only won three. And then she fell
asleep.
She woke up in the middle of the night, got a glass of water, and
said “In 1957, Elvis performed five concerts in three Canadian cities,
but that was the only time he ever performed outside of the United
States.” I didn’t know that, and it seemed odd to me, since she’d already
mentioned the names of all the different countries where Elvis had hit
records, and the fact that Elvis almost never recorded in any other
languages.
In the morning, though, Bernadette was herself again. She sent me
out to the store, and then to get some ice cream. Amazingly, she
actually wanted the Peanut Butter Elvis a second time. Bernadette almost
never wanted the same flavor twice in a row. In fact, the last time she did
is still a legend in our household (and referred to lovingly as “the
cherry-mint weekend of ’78”). I skipped my other errands and went
straight to the ice cream store. After all, if I could get the same flavor
again, my other errands would take care of themselves.
The same clerk was working, and he recognized me.
“Peanut Butter Elvis, right?”
“That stuff is a miracle. In one day it’s completely turned my
marriage around. I’ll take as much as you’ve got.”
“I’m sorry, but we’ve decided to cancel the Peanut Butter Elvis
project.”
“No! Please! I need it. I’ll pay any price.”
“There’s just too much potential for abuse with a product like
that. We want to make money, but we don’t want to turn the entire world
into Elvis-fact-spouting morons.”
“I don’t care about the world –it’s my wife I’m worried about.”
“Okay, okay. We do have another, similar flavor you might be
interested in. It’s just as potent, but less likely to cause a worldwide
catastrophe. And just because I like you, I’ll give you a special deal if
you buy ten gallons.”
“Absolutely, ring it up.”
When I got home, Bernadette was extremely upset.
“Albert, you fool. I told you to buy some pretzels and some
mozzarella sticks, not just ten gallons of ice cream.”
“I’m sorry, dear.”
“You should be sorry. You should be hung by your neck until you
die!”
I scooped her out a big bowl of the new flavor.
“I understand, now just relax and have some ice cream and before
long you’ll feel better about the whole thing.”
She sniffed at the ice cream. “This isn’t Peanut Butter Elvis.”
She took a bite. “It’s pretty good, though. What’s it called?”
Suddenly, Bernadette sat upright in her chair. She looked at me.
Her face contorted slightly.
She said “Vincent Damon Furnier was born in Detroit Michigan on
February 4th, 1948.” I let out a big sigh, and kissed Bernadette on the
forehead. My life had taken a turn for the better. I was home free. I
had ten full gallons of Chocolate Chip Alice Cooper.
THE END
Of course, there's also a Frank Henenlotter movie called Brain Damage
(and the title fits that movie about as well as it fits our story).
SUPERATOMIC GIVEAWAY OF THE WEEK
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Part of my whole reason for being here is to expose people to cool
and/or weird stuff that they might not otherwise know about, and one of
the main ways I want to do that is by giving stuff away for free.
This week's giveaway is a Frank Henenlotter VHS TRIPLE FEATURE,
including BASKET CASE 3: THE PROGENY, BRAIN DAMAGE, and FRANKENHOOKER (sadly,
the Frankenhooker talking box no longer talks, but if you’re enough of
a mad scientist, maybe you can figure it out.) They’re all used, but
play fine. See the website for further details!
To enter, send an e-mail to superatomic@franticflicker.com. Put your
NAME (first and last) and ADDRESS in the BODY of the e-mail, and use
the SUPERATOMIC SECRET PASSWORD in a COMPLETE SENTENCE as the SUBJECT
line. Your information will not be used for any other purpose.
The SUPERATOMIC SECRET PASSWORD for this week is... (gotta subscribe to find out).
Visit the superatomic section of the website
(www.franticflicker.com/superatomic) for complete rules, more details
and a photo of this week's prize. Contest ends late Thursday night, June
4, 2004 (if the message says Friday, that's too late Thursday night),
and the winner will be contacted by e-mail and announced on the site on
Friday.
By entering, you confirm that you are 18 years of age or older. US or
Canadian entrants only, please.
WHODUNNIT
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Written, compiled, researched, edited and published by yours truly,
King Boss Man Eric Henderson! Thanks for reading it!
The Frantic Flicker is a weekly e-mail newsletter published by Eric
Henderson.
The official Frantic Flicker website is a site to behold. Behold it at:
www.franticflicker.com
If you have any questions or comments, pass 'em on to:
eric@franticflicker.com. If you don't want me to print your letter, let
me know. I'll talk at you again next week. Until then, have fun!
Eric
All content copyright 2004 Eric Henderson. All rights reserved, but
feel free to forward this e-mail or link to my home page. Thanks.
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THE LIVING END
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