One of the things I miss so very much were those Saturday afternoon horror movies on channel 12. Truthfully, they weren't limited to just Saturday afternoons, but that was how I remember them. There was nothing so perfect as sitting down cross-legged on the floor in front of the old black and white TV and fidgeting with the rabbit ears to clear as much static as possible. If life was particularly great, my mom would give me a 4-pack of soda crackers to eat with the movie. (Remember how they used to come in squares of four?} Then it was just a matter of waiting for the commercials to end so I could get on with the watching.
Life seemed to be as black and white as the TV. It's odd how I can remember the colors of life as they accompany the various memories I have of it. In summer, my memories are strong and vivid, breathing and full of life. In the winter they seem gray, tinged with browns and earth tones. The same holds true with remembering these old horror movies on TV. Their black and white have seeped into my recollections embracing every nuance of memory with a perpetual gray scale. And that's fine with me.
Our living room was frilly and mom-like. I recall those old scratchy sofas with the intricate patterns. It was fun to sit on the floor and watch TV, even better with my brothers. How handy it was to have somebody to punch when the commercials came on. (I'm bragging falsely here. I was the youngest, and generally the primary victim of commercial break assaults). Even the TV's had such style, shielded in a nice wooden cabinet, and presenting themselves as something spectacular, like something that is meant to be admired, rather than merely operated.
That's the difference between then and now. Those TV's had class; our modern flat-screen-high-tech-can't-do-it-without-the-remote-high definition sets are great, but they do lack style. The old TV's were like living room gurus. We all gravitated toward the center to listen to its teachings. As they sat majestic in their consoled bodies, rabbit-eared for the divine reception, they gave us miracles. The television was command central; from it, we received the gifts of westerns and horror, comedy and music, action and drama, and for our moms: organ music soap operas.
"Monster Movies on TV"
Some of my best friends were the old monster movies that circulated in syndication in the 60's. They were dependable friends, and you could count on them to visit at least twice a year. Some of the more memorable works like "Attack of the Giant Leeches", "Attack of the Crab Monsters", "The Killer Shrews", Teenagers From Outer Space", and "Horrors of the Black Museum" were pure classics.
Many of these classics were the brain children of Samuel Z. Arkoff and James H. Nicholson of American International Pictures (AIP). These films were created on shoe string budgets, on the fly, and scripts were usually written around the posters or ads! I still love these pictures today, and feel so fortunate to have grown up when AIP was at its peak. Largely, these films were produced to get teenagers out of the house and into the drive-ins where three or four features were lined up in one evening.
Among some of my most beloved of these films are: "Fiend Without a Face", "Invasion of the Saucer Men", "The She Creature", "I Was a Teenage Werewolf", and "War of the Colossal Beast". I also remember Monster cards, and my brother used to collect them. When he got tired of them, he gave them to me, and I cherished these cards. Roger Corman also worked with the AIP team as a producer/director. Any of us who are worth our salt can easily recall Roger Corman as being one of the number one horror directors of all time. He brought us those wonderfully lavish Poe adaptations in a spirited series of films. Corman likewise worked on a shoe string budget, but produced "cheap" films with an incredibly expensive look for the times.
Next on the hit parade of horror was the great, the immortal William Castle. Bill knew what kids liked, end of story. Plus, he was the inventor of all those great movie theater gimmicks to scare the hell out of people watching the movie. Floating skeletons, seat buzzers, audience participation, and 3-D were among his box of theatrical tricks. With his classic "Mr. Sardonicus" (which creeped me out for the better part of a year), the audience was given the opportunity to give a "thumbs up, or thumbs down" guilty/not guilty verdict to the title villain. William Castle was a genius, and his movies are incredibly entertaining, even to this day.
A classic collage.
Among my favorite William Castle films are: "Thirteen Ghosts" and "Mr. Sardonicus" . "Thirteen Ghosts" was fun, with ghosts, great characters, and intrigue. This is what kid movies were all about. The father was basically a forgetful dunce, the mom was subserviant, and the sister a whining bundle of nerves. The boy in the film was named Buck, and he seemed to be more in control than the adults were. Martin Milner's villainous part as a crooked attorney out for the hidden mansion loot was great. Thinking later on about Route 66 and Adam 12 where he was always a hero, it was great to see him as a bad guy. There was even a witch, and not just a witch, but the witch Margaret Hamilton.
My second favorite "Mr. Sardonicus" was filled with horror. It wasn't cute, sappy, or, cliché. It was just plain creepy. It chilled me to the bone in 1966. "Sardonicus" is full of gothic flavor, complete with foggy marshes and a transylvanian-like castle in the mist. Let's not forget about the demented "Kral" and those leeches either! "The Tingler", "House on Haunted Hill", and "I Saw What You Did" are my other favorites. The latter, was an ingenious approach to a movie, staging two teenage girls as the protangonists who get caught up in a real-honest-to-goodness murder.
