April 2005

             The Legend of Crazy George has applied to:
CINEMUERTE 2005
http://www.cinemuerte.com/

Western Canada's premiere genre festival CineMuerte is confirmed for October 26-31 at the PACIFIC CINEMATHEQUE, Vancouver BC Canada
Western Canada's premiere genre festival CineMuerte is back. And this year's event promises an even more hectic and eclectic mix of retro obscurities and heart-stopping (literally) premieres than ever before.
Festival organizer Kier-La Janisse is pleased to bring together a great selection of internationally acclaimed films, including Lee Soo-yeon's The Uninvited, Jim Van Bebber's epic masterpiece The Manson Family, and Oscar-nominee Bill Plympton's latest animated feature Hair High.
This year's festival will feature more special guests than in years previous, on hand to not only meet and greet fans, but also available for interviews throughout the festival.
Guests this year include Jim Van Bebber, cult director Jeff Lieberman (Blue Sunshine), actress Millie Perkins (The Diary of Anne Frank, Wild in the Streets), Drive-In legend and Jayne Mansfield's ex Matt Cimber, original Texas Chainsaw alumnus Edwin Neal, Spanish director Christian Molina, legendary Montreal comic artist Rick Trembles and Korean director Lee Soo-yeon.
Also new this year is Bloodshot - the 48 hour Horror Film Challenge. Aspiring filmmakers have 48 hours to write, shoot and edit a 10-minute horror film. The contest will take place Oct. 22-24, and the completed films will be viewed on Friday Oct. 29 at the festival. Celebrity judges in the house will include LYNN FERO (Vice President of Paramount Pictures) and EDWIN NEAL (the Hitchhiker from the original TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE). Full details about the contest and how it will work will be available on www.cinemuerte.com by Oct.1, 2004. Winning films will be sent to Austin, TX where they will be eligible for the Grand Prize, in a competition judged by rogue director ROBERT RODRIGUEZ (From Dusk Til Dawn).
Sincerely,
Kier-La Janisse
http://www.cinemuerte.com/

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             The Legend of Crazy George has applied to:

The Stratford Upon Avon: Feast of Horror
United Kingdom
http://www.stratforduponavonfilmfest.com/horror/index.htm

Horror! The occult, the paranormal and things that go bump in the night. Scary stories have been with us forever and scary movies form a distinct sub-genre of their own. From vampires and werewolves, demonic possession and witchcraft, poltergeists and haunted houses, to more intimate psychological occult studies like Nic Roeg’s “Don’t Look Now,” the scope of the horror flic is broad and deep.
One of the most phenomenally successful of these pictures was, of course, “The Blair Witch Project,” shot handheld on low end DV for a tiny budget, it went on to gross $300,000,000 theatrically. The film served as an inspiration to aspiring low-budget shock-meisters everywhere and if you’re one of them this part of the festival is for you.
If you’ve made a digital movie in any of the horror genres, be it a short or a feature, we especially want to see it. We’ll be showing our horror pictures in special screenings late at night from 11:00pm to 1:00 am to send our audiences out into the Elizabethan streets of Stratford screaming with panic, as well as programming some of them during more conventional hours.


http://www.stratforduponavonfilmfest.com/horror/index.htm

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             The Legend of Crazy George has applied to:

The Coney Island Film Festival
http://www.coneyislandfilmfestival.com/

We have applied based on a recommendation from Josh Smith, whom I met at the Fearless Tales Film Festival. Josh is quoted on the Coney Island Film Fest page:

"Every bit as unique, edgy, festive and fun as the historic park it so lovingly represents. It was an experience I was honored to have, and will never forget. Rob and Laurie have created a film festival that not only pays tribute to Coney Island, but secures itself in Coney’s rich history." - Josh Smith, A Feast of Souls

The mission of the Coney Island Film Festival is to raise funds for the non-profit arts organization Coney Island USA and to present an engaging and entertaining program of films in the heart of Brooklyn's most storied neighborhood.
The Coney Island Film Festival screens a truly eclectic range of films and much to the delight of our audience features a number of "made in Coney Island" productions each year. In 2005 the Coney Island Film Festival is celebrating it's fifth anniversary.
The festival's ties to carny culture are undeniable. The main screening venue is the legendary Sideshows by the Seashore theater, home to America's last authentic 10-in-1 circus sideshow. Our infamous opening night celebrations feature live performances by sideshow & burlesque stars.
We look forward to presenting our very special line-up in 2005 to celebrate our fifth year.

http://www.coneyislandfilmfestival.com/

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             Gourmet notes for cast and crew: The Cherry Slurpy

The San Francisco area is know for its great food, friendly people, and wide ranges of smoking products - if not for places to smoke. In holding with tradition:

Palo Alto, California Street, 7-11 Cherry Slurpy

This slurpy has a good round taste and satisfying artificial cheery flavor. Its blessed with a nice punch and smooth after taste – no lingering burn from too much red #40. The mix comes out a little too thin so a quick slurp is necessary. No bringing a cup back for the romantic love interest here, but face it they don’t need the calories. Right? The collector’s Sponge Bob cup makes the 7-11 irresistible to anyone who knows what cool in the cartoon world is – both on TV and in CA. A wide selection of fine ocean color scoop straws is available: ocean blue, barnacle yellow, seaweed green, coral purple, and shark bait red. The California St. 7-11 brought my childhood of Ultimate Frisbee and emergency after game slurpy runs back. Thank you 7-11 you remain unchallenged in cheep artificial ice drinks.

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             Part 2

Leaving the Gala was hard. It wasn’t a fear that John Landis was out there in werewolf form, but knowing there was a drunken woman with a lust for kilted men. A woman last seen shouting “show us your balls.” I planned to toss her some Goo Goo Clusters and run like a chicken with the Cornel after him should she attack. No attack.

Friday was spent eating, drinking and looking for parking. As a rule I was late by an hour for every event I desperately wanted to attend. I did make it for American Werewolf in London, but that was actually a mistake because I was trying to catch Innocent Blood. Waiting for American Werewolf I made a point to introduce myself to everyone in the theater who might enjoy a Goo Goo Cluster and some bull shit I made a few friends who wanted to join Crazy George’s gang: the woman who can shoot a shot gun and a pistol, a man who wants to be a sniper, and the Indian chap who wants to do some up close killing Gurkha style. I also made the acquaintance of a fellow who said I was an idiot; this is true for the Legend of Crazy George is a tale of sound and furry told by an idiot. A fine Christian fellow felt the need to play the organ so I joined in with my favorite bible verses “There can be no redemption without the shedding of blood! Therefore be ye also ready for in such a time as ye think not the Son of Man commith.” A man with a TV camera invited me to say a few words, so I got up on stage and said these words they will never forget: “My name is George Furman and I am the Director of the Legend of Crazy George which opens on Sunday at 2:30. Ya’ll come and see us or you can all go to jail!” After that I quietly made my way to the back of the room where I met Erik Espe of Esplatter.com. Mr. Espe loves music so I gave him the Whisk-Hutzel treatment.

John Landis appeared in his human form and spoke about American Werewolf, film making, George Bush and other fucking monsters. Landis seemed a friendly; its hard to believe he was eating people alive in a dark alley during the Gala while all the other wolves were inside drooling over the burlesque girls. After the Q&A period we watched American Werewolf in London, where once again I was reminded of the joys of ripping a man’s thought out and looking deep into Nurse Price’s understanding eyes. She makes me feel 15 again. While the film played I detected the howl of a werewolf and knew it didn’t belong to the film. It was Landis changing once again and charging off into the night. How many men, transvestites and children died that night?



Saturday I continued promoting the Legend of Crazy George. This time I moved out of the Mission and Castro districts to work the other side of town, China town. We hit a festival with an Irish Grateful Dead cover band and later worked the streets. This was not the best part of town to push a horror film, but I did get to take photos of dead chickens. That night showed the arrival of Master Sgt Morse, my personal medic and college roommate who took us to Japan Town – an even worse place to promote a horror film. At about 1AM, returning to the hotel we were attacked. Dave cried out, “ Zombie!” I screamed. Jen picked up a metal rod and bashed the shit out of the first zombie that charged out from under the bridge. It was zombies everywhere, they looked like homless people, just like George Romero said. The 3 of us fought our way to the car like pros. In the car we drove off, Zombies falling away like stocks of corn under a tractor.

Sunday morning I rolled out of bed in my favorite PJs, put on my blood stained bath robe and giant bunny ears, ready. I drank a cherry flavored slurpie for breakfast and passed out the usual collection of flyers, Goo Goo Clusters, Moon pies, grits and music. On this day I tested and proved the theory that “Just because you choose not to see it doesn’t mean its not there”. I made my mad bunny self known in the mission district, but no one cared. Apparently this sort of thing happens all the time on 16th street. Only the homeless people saw me, as they ran to me babbled in a schizophrenic tongue and run off. I was their Bunny King, their white rabbit in Alice’s Acid Land.

Outside the theater we gathered for the showing of the Legend of Crazy George. Josh Smith the Director of A Feast Of Souls (www.aFestOfSouls.com) arrived early looking tired. He hadn’t slept well in days. Apparently he’d been haunted by ghosts since he made his movie and one succubus in particular was taunting him something fierce. He was even having doubts as to who he was and got spooked when a homeless woman said “maybe you’re not the person you think you are, hon.” I the Bunny God ran the woman off.

I also spoke to the director of Don’t Look Back, Nicholas Sherard (www.donateapound.com). He spoke funny, like a Yankee but worse – must have been from Quebec. We talked long and hard about how many times he’d been fucked like a man in a cattle gate by the Crown. It seems they changed the laws not once but twice to screw the independent film makers in the UK. Everyone should read about it on his web page. It never seemed to bother Nick that he was talking to a 6’4” Rabbit, they put heavy drugs in the water in the UK.

It was 10 min till opening and all I could think of was Jon Kurland’s “Cerial Killer” box. Not for the blood and guts but for the flaky corn goodness and pink marshmallows – a Cherry Slurpie is a weak breakfast. I also found myself wondering if Angelia Fematt really had a sister or was she just taking the brown horn rim glasses on and off - probably not, no phone booth in the area for super hero action.

At 2:30PM Sunday the Legend of Crazy George had its world premier. The city of San Francisco carried on as usual but the mentally ill street people raved and got extra drunk courtesy of the Copper Head Road Club. At the last moment a film director born in Nashville charged through the door. He looked the part, like a civil war cavalry officer. I sniffed him, he smelled like grits and I tested his password “Bunny” I said. “Gummo” he said. “You may pass”

After the film, the audience stumbled out of the theater blind and mumbling:
About Alister (Charles Long) “ who was that huge twisted fuck?” “I thought he was funny.”
About: Tommy (Adam Brookfield) Where is that guy from, England?” “No, New Zealand” “Where’s that?” Three people implied they’d like to get romantic with Adam, at least one of them was a woman named “Babs”.
About: Debbie Rochon “ Oh what a way to die.”
About Alister (Charles Long) “ who was that huge twisted fuck?” “I thought he was funny.”
About: Cecil (Shane Cunningham) that guy on the safari was hilarious.
About Pearl (Ree Mitchell) 3 men indicated they’d like to get romantic with Ree and I’m sure they were all men. One wanted to know if she was really handicapped.
About Robert-Clyde (Quinton Q Dyer) “ Is he for real?”
About Carleen (Andi Collins) “Weird chick, weird.”
About Lyle (Bob Mansfield) “He’s a cop, I knew it!”
About Wrestling Groupie (Molly Barnes) “That is the sexiest voice…”

Other things were said but forgotten in the haze. The next thing I know Josh Smith (A Feast of Souls) and are meandering down the Haight Ashbury talking about Spartans and feeding bums Goo Goo Clusters. Then suddenly we hear a spine chilling howl and boom, black out. I come too in a Japanese restaurant hold and cup of green tea and chewing on seaweed while Dave talks about how a manatee shit on him in Florida.

A day passes and Michael Davidson continues to work his tail off to shut down the event. I bolt for the beach grateful that he turned all of my offers for help down. Upon my return to pick up my movie Michael encourages me to see “The Curse of El Charro” by Rich Ragsdale one of the films I missed for no good reason. I photographed their apartment and determine it’s too small for the entire cast, so McCaleb will have to sleep outside. We’ll all be eating newest food in San Francisco: Mexican-Italian with Goo Goo Clusters for desert.

Leaving I pry a bottle cap from some soft goo in the side walk. It has a nice patina and has been crushed and trampled to perfection. The cap is a good omen: Big Foot Beer.

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              "Follow your weird, ladies and gentlemen. Forget trying to pass for normal. Follow your geekdom. Embrace your nerditude. In the immortal words of Lafcadio Hearn, a geek of incredible obscurity whose work is still in print after a hundred years, "woo the muse of the odd." A good science fiction story is not a "good story" with a polite whiff of rocket fuel in it. A good science fiction story is something that knows it is science fiction and plunges through that and comes roaring out of the other side. Computer entertainment should not be more like movies, it shouldn't be more like books, it should be more like computer entertainment, SO MUCH MORE LIKE COMPUTER ENTERTAINMENT THAT IT RIPS THROUGH THE LIMITS AND IS SIMPLY IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE!

I don't think you can last by meeting the contemporary public taste, the taste from the last quarterly report. I don't think you can last by following demographics and carefully meeting expectations. I don't know many works of art that last that are condescending. I don't know many works of art that last that are deliberately stupid. You may be a geek, you may have geek written all over you; you should aim to be one geek they'll never forget. Don't aim to be civilized. Don't hope that straight people will keep you on as some kind of pet. To hell with them; they put you here. You should fully realize what society has made of you and take a terrible revenge. Get weird. Get way weird. Get dangerously weird. Get sophisticatedly, thoroughly weird and don't do it halfway, put every ounce of horsepower you have behind it. Have the artistic *courage* to recognize your own significance in culture!

Okay. Those of you into SF may recognize the classic rhetoric of cyberpunk here. Alienated punks, picking up computers, menacing society.... That's the cliched press story, but they miss the best half. Punk into cyber is interesting, but cyber into punk is way dread. I'm into technical people who attack pop culture. I'm into techies gone dingo, techies gone rogue -- not street punks picking up any glittery junk that happens to be within their reach -- but disciplined people, intelligent people, people with some technical skills and some rational thought, who can break out of the arid prison that this society sets for its engineers. People who are, and I quote, "dismayed by nearly every aspect of the world situation and aware on some nightmare level that the solutions to our problems will not come from the breed of dimwitted ad-men that we know as politicians." Thanks, Brenda!

That still smells like hope to me....

You don't get there by acculturating. Don't become a well-rounded person. Well rounded people are smooth and dull. Become a thoroughly spiky person. Grow spikes from every angle. Stick in their throats like a pufferfish. If you want to woo the muse of the odd, don't read Shakespeare. Read Webster's revenge plays. Don't read Homer and Aristotle. Read Herodotus where he's off talking about Egyptian women having public sex with goats. If you want to read about myth don't read Joseph Campbell, read about convulsive religion, read about voodoo and the Millerites and the Munster Anabaptists. There are hundreds of years of extremities, there are vast legacies of mutants. There have always been geeks. There will always be geeks. Become the apotheosis of geek. Learn who your spiritual ancestors were. You didn't come here from nowhere. There are reasons why you're here. Learn those reasons. Learn about the stuff that was buried because it was too experimental or embarrassing or inexplicable or uncomfortable or dangerous."

(Note that Bruce is advocating not revenge through violence, but revenge through cultural change. We're already doing a good job; the TV networks and conventional newspapers are already in a panic over the promise/threat of the Net. Let's do more. Let's make manually operated stock markets and futures markets and currency trading obsolete, and put all those Wall Street toads on the street. Let's gut the lobbying business, and marketing business, and make highly paid retail sales positions an anachronism. In other words, let's make all the jobs that jocks eventually migrate to obsolete. Make them live in our world for a change. BWAHHHH-hah-hah!)

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             ....you need to generate one really good review...and the way to do this is to do something extreme in the foyer of the San Francisco Bay
Guardian...like drive a Ford Truck (not a Chev) through their front window carrying a couch...ask for their film critic....that'll make the pages worldwide..until then you are but a pussy....

Jim Wilson, Takaka, Golden Bay, NZ

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              took it upon myself to redecorate the Victoria Theator with the what one cimima employee calles "Rasta Posters" of the Legend of Crazy George. I gave him a Moon Pie and his girl a Goo Goo Cluster so he won't turn us in. While tossing up posters I was approached by a cool looling fellow with a nice hair cut - though he was a cop come to issue treatment for posters, but it was Josh Smith the Director of A Feast of Souls. I called him a Yankee hopeing to start a fight. Turns out this guy has his roots in Virgina and we formed an instant friendship. Josh and I agreed to deface the the Castro with our posters next so we walked down Mission Street talking about Dantes Inferno and what whe thought Michael Davidson might look like. On the road I found two bottle caps - a red Bacardi Rum and a Gold Medal Beer - both nicely crushed and rusted. In my pocket went the metal. At the Castro we tracked down Michael Davidson who looked exactly the way Josh said he would (I think Josh was cheating at our game). Michael stood on the foredeck of the Castro while Candy Snatches screamed in the backgrond. Michael was attending to urgent matters one after anouther and you could see his cell phone start to glow orange from the heat. Michel looks to me like a Yankee Clippership captain underfire from the British. He was cool but concerned. His volley of burning grape fired he could no only wait for the ships to come gunnel to gunne. I'll tell you stright, when Michel comes on your vessel he'll have a knife in his teeth and an axe in his hand. He's all smiles in the mess hall but bloody screems on deck. He a man who defeats his problems. As for me, I had no ruine stones in my pocket but I did have those bottle caps. I read the bottle caps for him like a Viking sage, told him the exact hour 15:99 when the problme would be solved and the out come -golden. Later that night I showed at the Gala. I misunderstood what Gala ment and showed up in a tux and kilt. I cought shit on the street from some drunk girls who wanted me to show them my ass, I obliged. They wanted more, I obligied, they wanted more... I gave them Legend of Crazy George flyers, music, and Goo Goo Clusters. At the Gala I cought more shit from some guy from Scottland who wanted to know why I looked like James Bond in his countries national tartan. After all this was a casual even, so much so that three blond girls where busy taking off thier clothes. (I think the tall one's nick name was lollies or something.) For no good reason I yelled out Scottland Scottland Scottland as loud as I could. Everyone ignored me which goes to once again proove that you can stand right next to Crazy George and never know it. The Scottsman had to suddenly pee. My date was Kate Winslet who was under the Jen. Jen is a folk singer from Rugby TN who can rival Jewel note for note. Jen was a goddess in her black dress. Kate could not hide her face and as those cheeks those glorious rose cheeks. Suddenlly I saw John Landis and was filled with fear. It was clear to me that he'd been infected with the werewolf curse and this explained why I hadn't seen a vampire all night. A werewolf with stregth like Landis would drive them away. There were however zombies everywehre as most of the guest seemed to be unable to move very quickly, not even for the naked girls. The most important person I met all night was Angelica Fematt the promoter for the Film Festival. She was blessed with bothe the charm and intelligence of someone who doesn't belong in the United States. I tried to talk her into going to New Zealand: Sun, surf, beach, ski, sail, Christ Church, Peter Jackson, the warrior princess, kumra chips, All Blacks, McCaleb and Adam Brookfield. I'm hungry.

more available at Fearless Tales

http://www.fearlesstales.com - Community - Forums

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             Moving hard and fast now.
Not much time.
Crazy George is comming and the word was spread at the John Landis "American Werewolf in London" I was sent supernatural instructions from Crazy George to personal invide every patron to the Legend of Crazy George. Went mad Fright Factory style and scared 2 people real bad. Check for wet spots, not pointes. Got on stage and yelled my head off and told them to see our film or they could "all go to jail!" The law was not called.

got to fly dead lines.

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             While hanging Legend of Crazy George posters in places I places I probably shouldn't I ran into a man I though was a cop come to issue treatment. It was Josh Smith the director of Feast of Souls. We hit it off in our mutual desire to redocorate the walls of the Victory Theator and task complete we marched off to the Castro Theator to do the same. On the walk we chatted long about film makeing, the South, and Dante's Inferno. It seems our films have a few things in common.

A quick meeting with Festival Director Michael Davidson who was busy beating off demons and paper work. THen it was home to get dressed for the Gala. My sweet love Jen looked like a goddess and for once no one thought she was Kate Winslett. I wore a tux and kilt. (later for comments about walking in the Mission District and Castro in a kilt)

At the party the Gala turned out to be casual, blue jeans and t-shirts - so casual that three woman took their clothes off, real slow. Ain't never seen anything like it except may at Cotten Eyed Joe's after hours.

We saw John Landis and to my horror it was clear that he'd been infected by the Werewold curse. There were no vampires to be seen, nor should there be with werewolf Landis around. Zombie everywhere, fucking everywhere... sitting, drooling, doing noting, hungry for someone elses brains. Jen and I were up for 24 so we cleared out early.

Upon our exit we met Angelia Fematt, the brains behind the man of Fearless Tales. She charmed us with a few stories and I tried to talk her into going to New Zealand. Sun, surf beach!

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