Grab Your Chainsaws, Ladies.

A decent horror film will have me cowering under the blanket hours after a viewing. I still love the genre, though. This is why I was so excited by the recent article on George Romero, John Carpenter, et al, in Vanity Fair’s latest “Hollywood issue.” The article, “Killer Instincts,” was written by Jason Zinoman.

It was a good piece, but I was extremely disappointed to read about what went on on the set of Wes Craven’s “Last House on the Left” (1972). The movie deals with mindlessly horrific events, and it’s natural to be both disgusted and fascinated by it. However, here’s how one of its stars, David Hess (he plays the main killer dude, Krug), described acting alongside his co-star, Sandra Cassell:

“I was very mean to the girls, so when it came to the rape scene, [Sandra Cassell] didn’t have to act… I told her, ‘I’m really going to fuck you up if you don’t behave yourself. They’ll just let the camera run. I’m going to devastate you.’ I don’t think she was too happy about that.”

Jason Zinoman describes Hess’ approach as “a Method actor’s intensity.” Jason! That’s not method-acting! That’s barbarism. Hess goes on to engage in seriously pathetic bragging about his conquests with co-stars and groupies (he might be a loser, but he got laiiiiiid!!!), and it is very clear that this guy is not some raw-edged heir to Stanislavsky. He is a misogynist using an actor’s persona to camouflage his serious issues, and, in the article, the masks obviously slips. That is, unless, Zinoman is deliberately mis-representing him with this piece. Zinoman, however, has an impressive resume and reputation – one does not attain such heights with blatant fibbing. [Update: David Hess is in the comments section of this post, saying that he was misquoted. I’ve gone ahead and changed the title of this post. Having been misquoted by a journalist before, I don’t  take these issues lightly.  Now the picture would be complete if Jason Zinoman showed up to talk as well, but I’m not holding my breath. Are you out there, Mr. Zinoman?] [Update 2: Mr. Zinoman is indeed out there, and says that no one was misquoted about anything. So there.]

I really like Wes Craven, but I wish he hadn’t allowed that to happen on set. I understand that he was a young director struggling to break free from his parents’ (particularly, his mother’s, as Zinoman darkly notes) expectations. I understand that things can get crazy in such a peculiar atmosphere. Nevertheless, there are lines you do not allow people to cross.

Zinoman does not go to Craven for a response on Hess’ “method.” And I wish he had.

I don’t think that Zinoman should have reached across the coffee-table and smacked Hess across the face. As a fellow writer, I get to speak to a lot of people, not all of them particularly cuddly. What Hess reveals about himself in this article is just as fascinating as the thematic elements of any good horror film. In order for revelations to take place, the writer must rein in his or her judgment. However, I do think that Zinoman’s characterization of Hess’ behaviour was way off the mark.

While I’m at it, here’s another disturbing quote from Zinoman’s piece, describing what happened on the set of the “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre”:

Exhausted, overheated, and frustrated by a tube of fake blood that wouldn’t spurt, Hansen [in his role as killer] decided to cut Burns [in her role as victim] for real, just to get the scene over with. “That was hardly the worst of it,” remembers Burns… I got a black eye that day… and I remember getting beat up by everyone while Tobe [the director] was standing nearby saying, ‘Hit her harder! Harder!’ “

I’ve always wanted to see the original “Massacre” film, but now, I don’t think I will. Obviously, Burns is a tough woman. I salute her for soldiering on. But I’m not going to salute the glaring un-professionalism of Gunnar Hansen and Tobe Hooper, and what it ultimately implies about them. Where any male actors injured on set? Zinoman does not say.

I’d like to see more women feature prominently the horror genre, and not just as pretty girls being chased/tortured by maniacs, but as both the maniacs and the creators of maniacs. Of course, many women have been working behind the scenes in the horror genre for years. The Pretty/Scary site is a good resource on some of them (as well as to many, many horror actresses).

As a fan, I think that horror has a great future, especially wherein women are concerned (and no, I’m not one of those puritan types who thinks that we should fight sexism by completely cutting out any instances of female victimization, and portraying women as All Powerful, All the Time – but more balance doesn’t hurt. Certainly, the fact that Neve Campbell’s character had sex and survived “Scream” is a good thing; John Carpenter may not think that killing sexually involved characters is prudery and sexism, but I sure do).

Now, I’d love to see Diablo Cody do a horror film, now that she’s bagged an Oscar for “Juno.” Why the hell not? I imagine something both hilarious and disturbing.

Long live the dead.

Very few things in life are more beautiful than Amman in the winter

The light is softer, the streets are emptier, the cats are hypnotized. It’s a place you remember from childhood, even if you spent your childhood thousands of miles away. The gas-delivery service jingles down the street like an ice cream truck, playing “Für Elise” for the benefit of the ochre dust, for the sleeping olive trees.

Pride, Prejudice and Ukraine, the Beloved Country

I get accused of hating my roots nearly as much as I get accused of being a nationalistic Ukrainian. It’s like walking a tight-rope while balancing a stack of Wedgwood plates on my head.

Consider, for example, the extent of anti-Jewish sentiment in Ukraine. There are members of my extended family who are Jewish, and living in Kyiv, so the issue is personally important. Sometimes, I am tempted to say that Ukraine is being unfairly labelled as a cesspool of hate. Other times, I have to stop and scratch my head at just how ingeniously Ukrainians themselves will contribute to that label.

You can’t make everyone happy, but I make no-one happy.

Talking about my life is anecdotal, not scientific, it points to lived experience. Lived experience is intensely subjective and, because of its immediacy, it also paints a vibrant picture. It helps to remember, however that this subjectivity means that I don’t speak for anyone else.

Personally, I deplore Ukrainian nationalism. Nationalism, or an unconscious version thereof, is the major reason as to why I have reservations about coming home. I would not want my living partner stabbed in the street because he looks like a typical Arab. Stabbing is an extreme scenario, but consider just how many nationalists believe women “belong” to the state. An autonomous woman who chose an evil foreigner for a husband is “selling herself.” She is a “traitor.” All your reproductive organs are belong to us.

These sentiments have been expressed to my face. They have been expressed to me in hate-mail. They are brought up on news websites, blogs, forums, and chat servers.

They are not limited to the Ukrainian-speaking population of Ukraine or to Western Ukraine (these people are demonized, trotted out as the “typical” racists). Plenty of people who speak Russian and/or consider themselves ethnically Russian think this way too. The hate-mail I got, for example, was written in Russian.

I couldn’t give you a numeric estimate of just how many Ukrainians think this way. But I can tell you, in no uncertain terms, that this has affected my life and my plans. Continue reading “Pride, Prejudice and Ukraine, the Beloved Country”

A Classy Day for English Football: Death Threats, Rape Threats, and Racism Against Avram Grant and Tzofit Grant

Yes, yes, I know using the word “classy” is un-progressive of me. I’m re-claiming it, however. On behalf of… uh, Ukrainian peasants everywhere. That’s right.

After Jose Mourinho left Chelsea, I decided to take a break from blogging about the Premiership. The fact that the new boss, Avram Grant, has received anti-Jewish death threats, not to mention the rape and death threats against his wife, has brought me out of my torpor.

What is there to say?

I suppose this incident can be written off with the usual “but what can you expect, these lads are football fans, that’s what football fans do, don’t watch football if you’re going to be upset.” It’s the same argument that was used against me when I began pointing out to people that the streets of Kiev were becoming more and more unsafe for racial minorities, Jewish men in yarmulkes, and anyone else who might somehow stand out: “but what can you expect, these are thugs, just don’t walk in the bad neighbourhoods if you feel threatened.” Right-o. Except, of course, the attacks were fast-becoming part of mainstream life in the capital.

Similarly, this episode with Avram Grant is part of mainstream football life. Racism and other nasty stuff there, it’s a problem, and being complacent about it isn’t going to do the sport, or anyone at all, any favours. Was it just a bunch of dumb kids who sent that stuff in? Probably. But those kids are going to grown into brawny adults one day. The sort of people whose eyes you try to avoid on the tube, lest they grab you by the collar and spit in your face.

I hope the cops catch them, and I hope they learn a lesson, if they are capable of learning it. Look, we can discuss Grant’s leadership, we can discuss how he was hired, we can discuss the ideological make-up of many Chelsea fans, and we can discuss many things besides, but this? Vile and unacceptable.

I don’t think the people who sent that package can, or should, be described as fans of football. A fan does not turn a sport into a venue for his particular brand of idiotic bigotry. A fan does not want wish to become an embarrassment to the very sport he or she professes to love.

Enough said.

P.S. Other sites on this story: here and here (no, I don’t think it had to happen at all, actually, although, like the author of this post, I am not shocked).

The Immortal Genius of Facebook Groups: from Ian McEwan to John Locke (the bald badass on “Lost,” that is)

Far too many serious writers treat the Internet with bemused detachment.

They are missing out.

They are especially missing out wherein Facebook groups are concerned. Thank God they have a… uh, non-serious writer such as myself to set them straight.

Consider, for example the title of the latest group I joined on Facebook: “In a perfect world I’d be doing Robbie in a library as Briony burns in hell.” Tell me this isn’t the ultimate response to Ian McEwan’s novel Atonement, recently adapted for the big screen. The group’s description gets Cecilia’s last name wrong (it’s Tallis, not Talon), but we can overlook such trifles; Facebook does not yet require a group creator to be babysat by a tut-tutting editor, after all (this is, of course, both the strength and weakness of Internet writing). The group, I believe, has been bolstered by James McAvoy’s portrayal of Robbie Turner – as belonging to it, and hence forging a connection directly to the character, is so much cooler than simply listing oneself as a McAvoy fan on Facebook (not that I didn’t go and do that when I saw the movie).

A group commemorating Charles Bukowski, on the other hand, is deftly titled “Meet me at the Racetrack and Bring Booze and Whores.” This particular example illustrates the other great thing about Facebook groups: Continue reading “The Immortal Genius of Facebook Groups: from Ian McEwan to John Locke (the bald badass on “Lost,” that is)”