From time to time, I plan to use this space to interview young, regional, or avant-garde filmmakers outside Hollywood. I’m not talking about folks who get million dollar films into competition at Sundance and then make a three million dollar deal for it, but rather those working on the fringe, and confidently doing their own thing. From the 1960s – 1980s, truly independent filmmakers of this type flourished in America, thanks to drive-in venues and then, later, the VHS boom. Today, it’s not quite the same. Films are more technically polished, yes, but also more conservative, existing within a narrow range of socially acceptable parameters.
MUIR: Before we discuss The Bloody Ape, could you tell me about your interests in film? What filmmakers inspire you, and why?
CROCKER: John, my interest in film came from sitting and watching movies with my family and friends that were shown on the local TV stations. Back in the days (circa early 70’s), we had Chiller Theater and other such programs here on the New York stations, and I was constantly subjected to horror films on a daily basis. I was a very frightened kid, and although these films being shown (from the Universal classic Frankenstein to Corman’s Attack of the Crab Monsters) scared me, somehow they seemed to act as a form of therapy, and I went from being frightened, to amused, to obsessed. One of the first books I ever had the pleasure to pick out and own was Thomas Calvin Beck’s Heroes of the Horrors (1975). That’s what turned me on to the history behind these films. Vincent Price was my childhood hero. I related to the roles he portrayed. I was a kid in love with horror films in a time when horror fans were thought of as freaks. On July 1st, 1978, my mind got completely blown when my sister’s fiancé took me to see a showing of George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead and Todd Browning’s Freaks at a local cinema turned arthouse. After that, there was no coming back. Initially my interest was in art, I painted a lot as a kid. After that showing of Night of the Living Dead, I decided a super 8mm camera would be my brush, and my stomping grounds the canvas. There was no turning back. As far as influences go, George Romero is my number one. An independent filmmaker with a moral sense of consciousness. Kinda like a Christ figure trying to wake the public up. Andy Milligan, a crazed homosexual who made films for mere thousands. Very personal films that expose his tormented soul. A tortured artist. Lucio Fulci, another misanthropic creep who let it all hang out. Franco, Rollin, and even folks like Wells and Wilder all had an effect on me. Paul Morrissey’s work for Warhol was very inspiring for me as well.
MUIR: For those who aren’t familiar with it, could you describe The Bloody Ape in terms of both story and style?
CROCKER: Okay, to keep everything straight, I have to say that Bloody Ape was shot in 1992-93. It was put on the shelf for a while and then we edited it in 97. Vanguard Releasing in California was one of our first sub-distributors, and the film basically saw light as a direct-to-video release, which was common for independent films in the late nineties. The film is a milestone for me in that it was actually shot on film (super 8mm to be exact) and that it was feature length (80 minutes). The story is based in part on Edgar Allan Poe’s short story Murders in the Rue Morgue. Except in Poe’s story, the detective is a master crime solver. I updated the story to show that the master detective of yesteryear has become corrupted, fat and lazy. The sad truth is that almost all good things turn bad, sort of a de-evolution. That’s just the way the world turns around. In my film an escaped gorilla goes on a rampage killing off a small town’s inhabitants. A young black male tries to get his car repaired by a bigoted mechanic who wishes not to serve him. When that mechanic turns up dead, the black guy is wanted for the murder, despite the fact that it was obviously committed by the ape. But the detective just wants to close the case, hence the black guy will have to do. In the meantime a bigger and more complicated plot is revealed.
Style-wise the Bloody Ape is nothing more than it should be, an old fashioned drive-in film, the type you’d see made by guys like Al Adamson or Herschell Gordon Lewis. It’s a “no budget” film, not a “low budget” film. At the center of it is a story about how we as a society have learned nothing of the art of communication. As people we need to talk, but no one is really listening. The film is ripe with folks who don’t listen, they just hear the voices in their own heads, the don’t want to know anything about reality. So when folks ask me what the film is about, my answer is that we are in a constant state of miscommunication; no one really bothers to hear what the other is saying.
MUIR: What in particular (stories, films, artists, etc.) inspired you to make this film?
CROCKER: My inspirations were Edgar Allan Poe, George Romero, my home town and the people in it. I grew up in Hewlett, Long Island, NY. We weren’t far from Manhattan, but far enough to be suburban, with a dash of country. It’s now very over populated, and the folks in the area are still the same as they were years ago, only now with more money, which tends to make them worse. I set the film to take place in the mid-seventies, when I was growing up. Alert Drive-in movie fans will pick up references to Night of the Demon (1979), an insane “Bigfoot” film. Also Phantom of the Rue Morgue (1954), another film that had a major effect on me at the time. Milligan’s style of long winded dialogue is very present. And some of the dialogue has snippets from songs I like in it. One of my favorite groups is Procol Harum, and small bits of there songs are spoken for characters lips. But the characters were drawn from people I had actually met in my life, hence no one is really “made up”.
MUIR: It is no insult to state The Bloody Ape isn’t your run-of-the-mill independent movie. It’s a drive-in style exploitation feature echoing a bygone era (the 1960s), so why make a film in this out-of-fashion style? What about this style is appealing and valuable to you as a filmmaker working in today’s climate?
CROCKER: I made a film that wasn’t in style strictly because I hate that expression “style”. Today, filmmakers like to show off their fancy camera equipment and tricks, and in showing off have completely forgotten how to make a good film. I believe in going back to basics, I want to tell an interesting yet insightful story, I want it to be watchable, and I want as large an audience as possible to view it. Most folks will hate it because they see themselves in it, and they’d rather watch “stylized” films with unrealistic heroes and heroines in order to escape from their miserable lives. I feel that by viewing myself through films that it’s therapy, a sort of way to exorcise your demons. Hence I made a Milligan film, long on character but short on fancy visuals. Not to say that it isn’t well shot, it most certainly is, but we used lots of hand held camera shots, blending different approaches to filmmaking that I learned from my years of watching films. I knew that some folks wouldn’t be able to sit through it, it was no longer “correct” in the language that filmmakers use today. Will my next film look like this? Hopefully not, I’d like to make each film so different that don’t quite know who made it. That’s truly the sign of a good artist. Style is for folks who do art to hide behind. I stand side to side with my work. Wouldn’t have it any other way.
MUIR: Can you tell me some of the specifics of making the film? When and how was it shot, and how long did it take?
CROCKER: As I stated earlier, the film was shot on sound super 8mm film during the years of 1992-93. It had no budget, both myself, actor Larry Koster, actor/co-writer George Riese and later my wife-to-be Christina Zuber put little pieces of money up for film stock and development. The reason it took two years is because we used friends and family to make the film, and that means you have to wait until everything is in perfect order before you go to shoot. Essentially, it was pulling everyone together that was the most difficult part. Getting locations is the other hardest part. You sort of make the film as you go along, trying to pull it all together for a one week shoot is totally unrealistic, everyone has a different schedule, hence you have to coordinate things. Most folks aren’t getting paid, something like this is a labor of love for all involved. In fact so involved is it that I actually wore myself down during the making and when we wrapped I literally ended up in the hospital, a nasty sinus infection went into my chest and my being asthmatic sent me in turn to the hospital, on Christmas eve, of all times (laughs). But it was worth it. The Bloody Ape is my offspring, kinda like a child, a labor can often be very, very rough. Anyhow, after that I put the finished film aside, worked on my magazine (The Exploitation Journal) and started another project. During this time I was saving money for the edit, which would be done on video with home video distribution in mind. It took about three days to edit.The transfer to tape and the edit were the most expensive thing about Bloody Ape, but we did it and premiered the film at a place called “112 Video”, located out in Eastern Long Island. We gave out tickets for free, had a midnight show and jammed the place. It went over so well we did it again six months later. Since then I’ve distributed it myself with sub-distribution by Vanguard in California and currently Movies Unlimited.
MUIR: As I mentioned, watching The Bloody Ape was like taking a trip right back to 1960s low-budget world, right down to the grain of the film and the dialogue and humor (including a gorilla driving a car…). Story-wise, you had an anti-hero named Lampiri, a man in a gorilla suit, boardwalk locations (a staple of these films…), as well as lots of gratuitous nudity (a shower scene…) and gore. I particularly liked the decapitation sequence and the penis severing. Is walking right up to the border of bad taste part and parcel of the vocabulary of this genre, and if so, why is it important?
CROCKER: John Waters always say’s that bad taste is only good when it’s done in style. I say bad taste is good only when done in protest. Bloody Ape is very similar to a protest song from the sixties, only I can’t sing, so I make films instead. I’m protesting societies’ lack of communication. A big world not able to talk to each other is a shame. My violence in the film comes from the well of anger deep in my soul. It never goes away, but with each film I make, it gets a little shallower. The violence is used to jar people to action (as well as sell copies, gorehounds are a very loyal and forgiving audience). Right now violence in mainstream pictures has been made so inane that it doesn’t stir emotion. The gore in my film, or the films of the 60’s and 70’s was done to make people to notice, get up and do something. You should be offended when you see my film, it’s a test to prove your still human. Emotions are a great thing, folks shouldn’t suppress them.
MUIR: One of your main characters, a policeman named Lo Bianco, is a raging racist. I know some audiences will be offended by this character. You also include Jewish stereotypes, racial epithets, and a rape by a gorilla (!). Yet, I felt there was actually a moral component running through the film. All the bad guys get – in the tradition of EC Comics – their comeuppance. And Lo Bianco is met with exasperation by his partner, Kerry. Could you describe how you see the film’s sense of morality? What has been the response to The Bloody Ape stepping over the line of what much of our contemporary society sees as taboo? And finally, is the name Kerry supposed to signify anything outside the film (for example, a political figure?)
CROCKER: As I said, the characters were based on folks I actually knew. While these folks weren’t as corrupt as the folks in the film, there were traits in their person of the characters I wrote. And some of the other characters came right out of the newspapers. The Rabbi that tries to sell Lambini the fake ring, well, a group of Rabbis had been caught doing the very same thing in Manhattan’s diamond district. The morality of the film is the lack of morality in the film, folks should be aghast the very same way the character of Kerry is in the film. And certain folks in the film are trying so hard to do the right thing, but are not being heard. The scene where Lambini and his girlfriend break-up is heart wrenching, it’s based on a break -up in my personal life – the girl I was dating could not accept my oddball ways – and so often tried to get me to follow the safe and narrow. But it was doomed, I can’t change, nor should I. I agonized over that relationship for a long time. That’s what separates me from a sociopath, I can feel, I cry, I laugh, I have morals. Certainly folks who saw the film read it differently. Most love it. Others think it’s a fascist poem to the joys of hatred. Still others just think it’s another inept horror film made by some local loser. It’s my child, and yes it has handicaps, but that’s what makes it unique. As for Kerry signifying anything, no, not at all. The film was made way before the Kerry/Bush debates, and I loathe Kerry as much as I do Bush. As far as politics go, I’m a conspiracy theorist, both men are the same, only one plays good cop, and the other bad cop. We haven’t seen a “real” Republican or democrat since God knows when. These guys are both sponsored by the banks. We’d be as bad off under Kerry as we are with Bush. Things don’t change much here in the good old U.S.A, but I do love the country and have high hopes for change.
MUIR: What has been the general response to The Bloody Ape? Do people understand the style you are evoking? Where can fans get a hold of it if they would like to see the film?
CROCKER: As I stated most folks like The Bloody Ape. If you grew up watching Drive-in movies, you’d be hard pressed to not like it. Bill Landis and Michelle Clifford (authors of Sleazoid Express and Metasex magazines) said that if 42nd street was still the way it was in the late seventies/early-eighties, the film would have been a first run hit on the deuce. Now that was one of the best compliments I ever got. As in for the folks who don’t like it, well, I haven’t received death threats yet, but I hear occasionally that some nut job carrys on about it on various chat boards, what have you. But the Internet is home to negative energies, so that doesn’t totally surprise me. Bloody Ape can be purchased directly from me at Cinefear or from Movies Unlimited in Philly.
MUIR: Tell us more about Cinefear.
CROCKER: My website Cinefear is dedicated to the serious study of exploitation films. Cinefear has been around since ’92, long before the Internet. I’m a film archivist and I sell copies of rare and interesting films (very much like Sinister Cinema or Something Weird). But I just don’t sell films, I write about them as well, so good articles about the genre that gets some very interesting feedback from readers. My paper version is Exploitation Journal, in publication since 1987. We publish once a year. Essentially this stuff is my heart and soul laid bare for all to see.
MUIR: Can you tell us about your next project?
CROCKER: My next project is called Stalag 69 (that’s the shooting title, it originally had been Schindler’s Lust). It’s kind of a combo Stalag 17 and Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS. It’s not an anti war film, that’s way too simple. Actually, it’s a character study about why people get so vicious during war, and it has nothing to do with war, but rather unfulfilled desires and dreams. Regardless, it doesn’t mean I expect people to be nice during war, but rather I try to find why war does have to happen, and is the result a therapy or cleansing of some sort. I guess I’m a frustrated therapist,
I’d like to thank Keith for taking the time to so thoughtfully answer all my questions, and if you’re interested in his work, check out Cinefear.
John Kenneth Muir 