RIP Ted V. Mikels (1929-2016)

Less than a month after the passing of Herschell Gordon Lewis, we must report the passing of another foundation block of 1960s exploitation cinema and showmanship: the irrepressible Ted V. Mikels, who died today in hospice at the age of 87.

He was born Theodore Vincent Mikacevic in the state of Oregon (where he made his first picture, STRIKE ME DEADLY, in 1963), but produced most of his work in and around Las Vegas. Mikels was best-known for such horror films as THE ASTRO-ZOMBIES (1968, featuring Tura Satana), THE CORPSE GRINDERS (1971), and BLOOD ORGY OF THE SHE-DEVILS (1973), but he continued to make films till the very end, cranking out a CORPSE GRINDERS sequel in 2002, three ASTRO-ZOMBIES pictures between 2004 and 2012, and much more. He was also accomplished in other areas of exploitation: DR. SEX (1964), ONE SHOCKING MOMENT (1965), THE BLACK KLANSMAN (1966), THE GIRL IN GOLD BOOTS (1968) and THE DOLL SQUAD (1973, which established a set-up very similar to that of the later television phenomenon CHARLIE’S ANGELS).  Mikels also produced the notorious THE UNDERTAKER AND HIS PALS (1966), THE WORM EATERS (1977), and was the cameraman on John A. Bushelman’s DAY OF THE NIGHTMARE (1965), Gerd Oswald’s AGENT FROM H.A.R.M. (1966) and Bob Clark’s CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS (1972). The IMDb lists 25 directorial credits for him, as well as 31 production credits, and 16 as a cinematographer. His last feature was PARANORMAL EXTREMES: TEXT MESSAGES FROM THE DEAD (2015), on which he performed all three functions.

Mikels was particularly noteworthy for his cinematography, which made unusual use of garish color gel lighting. Mikels’ work received its first notable attention in the 1986 RE SEARCH book INCREDIBLY STRANGE FILMS, which also profiled Lewis, Russ Meyer, Joe Sarno, Doris Wishman and others. Mikels lived and breathed show business; aware that his movies alone might not sustain interest, he made himself interesting, sporting a flamboyant waxed mustache, wearing a boar’s tusk pendant, and lived for many years in a castle with a bevy of young companions in a polyamorous lifestyle. He was, above all, a rebel; as he told V. Vale in his INCREDIBLY STRANGE FILMS interview: “I’m not in the Director’s Guild, not in any guild. I just don’t want anyone telling me what to do, or what I cannot do.” He was also the subject of a 2014 documentary, THE WILD WORLD OF TED V. MIKELS.

Of his movies, THE ASTRO-ZOMBIES was recently issued on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber, and THE DOLL SQUAD and MISSION: KILLFAST are out on Blu-ray from Vinegar Syndrome. Many others are available not only on DVD but via streaming. Indeed, most are available for free streaming by Amazon Prime members.

Ted V. Mikels and Herschell Gordon Lewis at the Cinema Wasteland Convention, October 2002.

These guys. Say what you like about their films – really, how good they were is ultimately far less important than THAT they were. How much poorer the movies as a whole would have been without their anarchic glee.

Text (c) 2016 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved by the author.
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Red, White and BLUE SUNSHINE

Zalman King, keeping tabs on things in BLUE SUNSHINE.

In the hairy heyday of 1970s horror, Jeff Lieberman was on the short list of North American names to watch, along with George A. Romero, David Cronenberg, Wes Craven and John Carpenter, among others. These were young, inventive guys, all looking for ways to bend and advance horror in ways comparable to EASY RIDER’s embodiment of a quantum leap for the Western. Much as the Western had needed to gain distance from the Old West to become relevant, horror needed to break away from its gothic roots and find a foothold in present day. In many cases, what the new generation of horror directors embraced as a focal point was the distance between what average people were being told by the government and the hard, unvarnished truth.

Of all these creators, Jeff Lieberman is a fascinating case because, while he didn’t ultimately have the opportunities nor the cultural impact of those other filmmakers I mentioned, his half-dozen features have held up well. His characters have a human dimension that just seems real, never editorializing as Romero’s sometimes do, or mixing up the larger and lesser than life types as Carpenter does; his protagonists are typically mensches who become more than they were as a result of conquering whatever deranged, scary adversity is thrust upon them. Lieberman first gained attention with his debut feature SQUIRM (1976), an independently-made AIP acquisition that lured viewers in with a low-ball concept (killer worms) which it proceeded to trump with some truly unforgettable special makeup effects gags, courtesy of Rick Baker. In retrospect, SQUIRM’s burrowing, subcutaneous worm effects looked forward to the metallic tendril attachments of the Flesh Gun in Cronenberg’s VIDEODROME (1983).

Though he’s made other interesting pictures (for example, 1981’s JUST BEFORE DAWN may be the best of all the 1980s horror films about campers roughing it in nature), Lieberman’s reputation seems to rest on his sophomore effort, BLUE SUNSHINE (1978), which has now been definitively resurrected in a deluxe Blu-ray/DVD/CD three-disc set from FilmCentrix.

BLUE SUNSHINE immediately asserts its invention with a dazzling credits sequence that shuffles a few tense, seemingly unrelated scenes with shots of an enlarging, blue-tinged full moon and a haunting, Stomu Yamashta-like score by Charles Gross, against which the main titles take their time to unfold. The story that follows ties the initial loose threads together. Zalman King plays Jerry Zipkin, already involved in an obviously passionate relationship with Alicia Sweeney (Deborah Winters) – which, in itself, already subverts the cliché of two characters falling in love as they struggle to survive a nightmare together. While attending a party (where the guests include DARK SHADOWS’ James Storm and future BLADE RUNNER star Brion James), Zipkin’s best friend Franny (Richard Crystal, the brother of Billy Crystal) suddenly loses all his hair and flees the premises, sending others out in search of him. With only a few young women left behind, Franny returns, eyes fully dilated, to embark on a rampage of murder that ends in his own death.

The dilated eyes of suddenly hairless Frannie Scott (Richard Crystal).

When Zipkin returns to the scene, closely followed by cop Lt. Jennings (Stefan Gierasch), everything he does only serves to make him look more guilty of the three women’s murders. Following a remarkable pan shot that dials away from Zipkin’s escape by car to the exterior aftermath at the party house, we follow our protagonist on a frankly incredible search for the truth behind what happened to his friend, which eclipses even his more pressing need to clear his name – and only serves to get him into worse and worse trouble.

Jerry Zipkin is innocent, I tell ya!

Remember those scenes in ALIEN with Jones the cat, where the cast would strain credibility by looking for the cat in all the darkest, most forbidding rooms and passages of the spaceship? It’s a bit like that with Zipkin. His character arc seems predicated on always doing not just the wrong thing, but the freaking unbelievable thing, to the point where the film could almost pass as a surreal parody of prevailing cinematic clichés. Zipkin returns to the party house and sees the fireplace ablaze with the stacked dead bodies of three women… and he tries to put out the fire by by beating it with a rug. He gets shot and goes to Dr. David Blume (Robert Walden, a particularly fine performance), an old estranged college chum, who treats his wound with a shot and a bandage. In a confrontation with yet another person who suddenly loses all their hair and goes berserk, threatening two small children with a carving knife, Zipkin intervenes and somehow manages to throw her off a balcony to her death. After reading a newspaper story about a similar hairless murder spree of an entire family, Zipkin ventures to the murder house and – offering no better reason than human curiosity – pumps the gabby next-door neighbor (Alice Ghostley) for unreported details – and then proceeds to break into the murder house and suffer a gibbering meltdown over the taped body positions and bloodstains still besmirching the walls and floors. After Zipkin’s exploits finally make the front page of the paper, pegging him as a fugitive murder suspect, he returns to his doctor friend and asks for enough powerful sedative to put someone down hard – and gets it delivered to him under a bridge at MacArthur Park! And the reason he gives for being on the run? “I can’t go to jail, not even for one day. I’ll go bananas!”

Ann Cooper as Wendy Flemming. Is it just me, or is this last shot Hari Krishna zombie imagery?

So it’s not particularly logical, but it is a lot of fun – which is apparently what Lieberman intended first and foremost, as he speaks more than once in the disc’s extras about the relationship he perceives between horror and comedy. That point aside, the more we find out about what’s causing these people to change, the more cause we have to suspect that Zipkin’s irrational actions may be indicative of his own pending hair-loss. What he discovers – the truth that he alone is able to extract, using nothing more than his wide-eyed, strangely puppy-dog-like entreaties for answers – is that, ten years earlier, when he and these other people were all students at Stanford University, a strain of LSD called Blue Sunshine was making the rounds – apparently manufactured by a political science major, Ed Flemming (LOST IN SPACE’s Mark Goddard), who is presently running for Congress. Zipkin doesn’t exactly have a plan about what he intends to do once he obtains this information; I suppose you could say “At least he’s not just standing around, he’s out there doing something” – but one of the most haunting qualities about BLUE SUNSHINE (and the SPOILER-sensitive may want to look away for the remainder of this paragraph) is that Zipkin’s campaign ultimately doesn’t make any difference. The closest thing the film has to a genuine hero, Lt. Jennings, is left unconscious in a men’s room and dragged to a chair by Alicia. That’s the last time we see Alicia, too. Flemming is never exposed or held accountable for producing and distributing this drug that, as he had no way of knowing, would turn people into murderous time bombs with a ten-year delay. The people who used the drug in college gradually lose their hair and pay the piper. As for Zipkin, we last see him on his knees, beside Blue Sunshine’s latest victim. A couple of captioned screens detail the fates of a secondary character or two, but in the end, we are never told if  “Zippy” was ever able to clear his good, if silly, name.

If this sounds like the film fumbled its game, not so – because when BLUE SUNSHINE ends, we are left feeling as though a much bigger, more involuted story is just beginning, and that is a wonderful and rare jolt to the imagination. And for a film longer than 90 minutes to leave the viewer feeling like the whole crazy ride has passed in half that time, like a preamble to much bigger game? Well, that’s a remarkable achievement in itself.

Mark Goddard as Ed Flemming – America’s Past, Present and Future.

In the audio commentary and other extras included in this set, Lieberman recalls that his inspiration for this film came from seeking a tongue-in-cheek analogy that he could apply to government-issued anti-drug warnings, much in the way that three-eyed monsters were proposed in 1950s films like Roger Corman’s DAY THE WORLD ENDED (1956) as a likely result of atomic radiation. It seems to me that he would have reached the same creative conclusion had he started out, more seriously, to write a horror film analogy of the “acid flashback” – or even the film noir concept that our past has a way of catching up with all of us. All of these apply to the film, with Lieberman’s tongue-in-cheek analogy offering the best explanation of various narrative decisions it makes. But I feel it would be a mistake to overlook what the film seems to present to us in all seriousness, namely its Bicentennial America setting (one shot dotes on a sign congratulating America on its 200th birthday) and the backstory of Ed Flemming’s running for Congress, which strongly recalls Charles Palantine’s race for the US Senate as a background to Martin Scorsese’s TAXI DRIVER (1976). What BLUE SUNSHINE specifically addresses in this area is how the quintessentially American mythology of the self-made man, so central to American political mythologies since the days of Lincoln, is a self-serving lie – that political success is dependent on the containment and rewarding of lies and kept secrets. Just as Flemming’s political career is rooted in outlaw activities and even human casualties, all sacrificed to his personal enrichment and a bullshit idea of personal freedom, so were the political careers of our nation’s forefathers fundamentally rooted in crimes against others, ie., genocide committed in the name of their freedom from tyranny. It doesn’t matter how conscious these ideas may have been to Lieberman; what matters is that they were so inherent in the political and yuppie milieux he chose for his story, there was no way they could be avoided. (The first monster in the film is named Frannie Scott – shades of Francis Scott Key!) BLUE SUNSHINE didn’t surface till a couple of years after the American Bicentennial but, to the best of my recollection, it’s the only horror film of that festive occasion to go beyond, say, Altman’s NASHVILLE and summon the darker resonance of US history and politics and their obscene commercialization. In other words, it couldn’t have resurfaced at a better time. (Flemming’s campaign slogan is, appropriately, “Here Is The Future.”)

Though the subtext is there, BLUE SUNSHINE is first and foremost a fun ride. At one point, Zipkin notices a bald man reading a newspaper and does a double take – allowing the eagle-eyed among us to notice that the page is open to a double-bill advertisement for SQUIRM and TENDER FLESH. And if the commercialization of politics and the consequences of our actions are the main meat of the story, an accident of scheduling caused the story to culminate in a department store during the Christmas season, which not only drives home another message about commercialization, but genuinely anticipates the milieu of Romero’s DAWN OF THE DEAD (1979) – a film that actually cops a scare from BLUE SUNSHINE involving the sudden appearance of a bald mannequin. 

Earlier I mentioned the human dimension of Lieberman’s films, and you won’t find better examples of this than in BLUE SUNSHINE. In scenes of kitchen talk involving two neighboring women (Ann Cooper and Barbara Quinn), Lieberman’s writing shows a real knack for knowing how women really talk and look out for one another, taking on a share of each others’ responsibilties. Likewise, though we never see Zipkin and Alicia in a romantic situation, Zalman King and Deborah Winters use their few scenes together to convey what the story doesn’t share of their relationship through a palpable hunger for each others’ physicality. It’s this that also helps to sell the extremes that Alicia must endure to try to establish “Zippy’s” innocence.

Deborah Winters and Ray Young in BLUE SUNSHINE’s famous “Disco Sucks!” sequence.

The FilmCentrix DVD-9 Region A disc presents a 4K transfer of the film’s original camera negative, which was recovered only a few years ago after decades mislaid. It’s very pretty, and the audio is offered in a choice of DTS-HD 2.0 or 5.1 (tastefully done with select surround sound effects). There is an audio commentary by Lieberman – unfortunately, it’s 15 seconds out of sync, so that the frequently referenced shots are never onscreen as they are being pointed out or discussed. It’s moderated by someone I presume to be Elijah Drenner, though his name is clipped off the beginning of the track.  Some of the same ground is covered in video interview material also included (mostly contemporary, though there is also a 12-minute Mick Garris interview of Lieberman dating from just after BLUE SUNSHINE), but Lieberman is a very entertaining, down-to-earth and candid subject. Other extras include an 8-minute select scene commentary by Mark Goddard, a visit (or attempted visit) to original locations, trailers, on-camera interviews with script supervisor Sandy King and actors Robert Walden and Richard Crystal, an image gallery, and a spate of vintage LSD scare films.

Tucked inside the snapcase is a bevy of other bonuses, including a 28-page booklet of liner notes by Steven Morowitz, Nicholas McCarthy and Mark J. Banville, an Ed Flemming for Congress bookmark, a small replica of David Blume’s BS Diploma from Stanford – backed with a repro of Movielab’s original color analysis of the film, a reduced reproduction of a TV syndication brochure, and – for the daring among us – a blotter consisting of eight tabs of Blue Sunshine – presumably from the 255 doses reportedly “still unaccounted for.”

Don’t say you weren’t warned.   

(c) 2016 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved by the author.

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A Million Bucks? What a Crock*
This is a bike that Koga has developed for Dutch Olympic hopeful Theo Bos. Koga claims they have spent a million US dollars developing this special one off bike.

I’m sorry I don’t buy it, all I see is just another carbon fiber bike. If this was new technology I might be convinced, but CF bikes have been around for twenty years or more, they were built for the Olympics in the 1980s.

It’s a bicycle fer Cri-sakes, not a Formula One race car; where do you get a million bucks. Give us a breakdown of where the million dollars went.

What about truth in advertising? Because this is what it is. You build a one off bike, and then you think of a number. Okay, a million dollars is a nice round figure.

Next, put out a press release saying you’ve spent a million developing this special bike that is so light a fart would blow it away.

The press and the general media, knowing sod all about bikes goes with the story.

When it comes to bicycle racing it is the strongest rider that will win every time. If Theo Bos is the best rider he would still win on a stock bike that anyone can buy.

Can’t Koga see that? If Bos were to win on one of their stock bikes, it would in the end sell more bikes. Because what they are saying is, our stock bikes are not good enough for the Olympics we have to spend a million dollars.

The smart thing to do would be to pay Theo Bos a million dollars if he wins the gold on a stock bike.

* UK translation: What a Crock = What a Load of Bollocks!

Footnote from Dave: Ooops! Koga not Kona, mistake edited. See first comment. Thanks Darren


Marshall “Major” Taylor was much more than just a bicyclist
By Albert B. Southwick

Worcester, Mass.
September 16, 2001

“There are positively no mental, physical or moral attainments too lofty for the Negro to accomplish if granted a fair and equal opportunity.” From the foreword to Marshall Taylor’s autobiography, “The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World”

Marshall “Major” Taylor’s exploits on the bicycle tracks of three continents are legend. From 1898 to 1904 he was indeed the fastest bicycle rider in the world. In 1899 he set seven world records — in the quarter-mile, the one-third-mile, the half-mile, the two-thirds-mile, the three-quarter-mile, the mile and the two-mile. He did the mile (from a standing start) in 1.41, a record that stood for 28 years. He did the “paced” mile (behind a five-man windbreaker bike) in 1.31 and in 1.22 behind a motorcycle pacer. He also raced and won in the longer meets — two-mile,  five-mile, etc. He even once competed in a grueling six-day race at Madison Square Garden and came in eighth, having logged 1,732 miles over the 142 hours of competition.

But with his dazzling last-minute sprints, he was better obat perangsang wanita adapted for the shorter races. During his professional career, he won hundreds of meets in the United States, Canada, France, Belgium, Switzerland, England, Italy, Denmark and Australia.

He would have won many more had he been treated fairly.

His record would be impressive for any cyclist. It was phenomenal for someone who, every time he rolled out onto the track, faced what he called “that dreadful monster prejudice.” It was his hard-fought victory over the racist mind-set of America 100 years ago that gives him national significance.

The United States in 1900 was far more segregationist than it is today. “Lynch law” violence still occurred in parts of the Deep South. Jim Crow laws, authorized by a Supreme Court decision, prevailed in many states. Most whites assumed that they were superior to blacks.

Major Taylor challenged that assumption in a dramatic way.

Between about 1890 and 1910, the most popular sport in the land was bicycle racing — far ahead of football, baseball and basketball. Crowds numbering 20,000 or 30,000 would show up at meets. In aspiring to be a winning racer, Major Taylor was challenging Middle America in a sensitive spot. Bad enough that he was allowed to compete against white riders. Far worse that he could beat them all in a fair contest. By 1898, it was obvious to everyone that he was peerless. It was too much for some of the white riders on the circuit. They decided to gang up on him, and they did.

Major Taylor’s autobiography, “The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World” is a compendium of many of his victories. It is also a dismal chronicle of races lost because of dirty tricks white riders used against Taylor. They would crowd him off the track, hem him in “pockets,” rough him up off the field, curse and threaten him. There is no telling how often he heard the “N” word, and other vicious epithets. After one close race (in Boston, no less!) a burly cyclist got him in a choke hold that made him black out before the police dragged the assailant off. In Atlanta, where he had planned to race, he was warned to get out of town in 48 hours or else. He finally gave up riding on the Southern circuit. He was refused hotel lodgings in St. Louis, San Francisco and other places. When the two big cycling organizations, the League of American Wheelmen and the American Cycle Racing Association, got into a jurisdictional dispute, the ACRA tried to get him banished for life.

But Major Taylor prevailed. He had become so big an attraction that race promoters often had to swallow their own personal prejudices and invite him to compete. His name on a racing card guaranteed a sizable gate. The contortions some of the promoters went through are revealing, almost funny.

More important were the reactions of the fans. Although they undoubtedly included plenty of rednecks and “good old boys,” many of them were critical of the foul tactics and abuse that Taylor had to put up with. Newspapers all over the Northeast and Midwest were up in arms over the blatant unfairness of it all. Taylor became a symbol. He also became the first great black celebrity athlete. In his peak years, he made more than $35,000, a huge amount in those days.

Always polite, always a gentleman, he paved the way for Jackie Robinson and the rest of the black athletes that the country now takes for granted. The Williams sisters, of tennis fame, are the latest examples. And right here, I think, Major Taylor becomes something more than a sports legend. He should be recognized as one of the pioneers in punching a hole through the walls of segregation that had stood ever since the Civil War. And he did it in the field of sports, a crucial venue for Middle America.

Thanks to a group of dedicated volunteers, an impressive plaque commemorating Major Taylor is to be installed at the south entrance of the newly expanded Worcester Public Library. When that finally happens, this community will at long last properly recognize one of its most distinguished athletes and national trailblazers.

Albert B. Southwick of Leicester, Mass., is the retired chief editorial writer for the Telegram & Gazette.

Every Car Needs A Jack

Here’s a thing or two you may not know about Richard Harbinger’s hot rod quickie T-BIRD GANG, starring Ed Nelson, Pat George and a young Vic Tayback, which was released by The Filmgroup back in 1959. You can probably guess the first bit of trivia from its means of distribution, or perhaps from the presence of Nelson and Beach Dickerson in the cast: the film was secretly produced by an uncredited Roger Corman. But even more interesting than the film itself, in retrospect, are its promotional materials.

Evidently the film was so quickly and cheaply made (or poorly photographed) that very few promotional shots were taken during the filming. What Corman did to jazz-up the film’s public appearance was to have some friends he’d met at Jeff Corey’s acting class to participate in an afternoon of modelling shots that would show what the public generally demanded from such a picture – some cars, some babes, and some guys with haircuts. None of them was in the actual movie. A close look at these materials shows none other than a young Jack Nicholson among the participants, posing around a brand new white Thunderbird on a Hollywood Ford car lot! (That’s him in all these shots, second from the left.) At this time, Jack had already starred in another Corman-produced JD picture, 1958’s THE CRY BABY KILLER (written by Leo Gordon, no less), but his acting career was still a decade away from its ultimate take-off with 1969’s EASY RIDER. 

One of the few ways you can actually see T-BIRD GANG these days is in a box set of public domain hot rod titles called BORN TO BE WILD – 4 HIGH-OCTANE MOVIES, which happens to also include THE WILD RIDE (1960), another early Nicholson starring role, and prominently pictures him on the packaging! amzn_assoc_placement = “adunit0”; amzn_assoc_enable_interest_ads = “true”; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = “vwblog-20”; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = “auto”; amzn_assoc_ad_type = “smart”; amzn_assoc_marketplace = “amazon”; amzn_assoc_region = “US”; amzn_assoc_linkid = “52f17b5e6f93210afdd26b9376b4dcd9”; amzn_assoc_emphasize_categories = “283155,130”; amzn_assoc_fallback_mode = {“type”:”search”,”value”:”Corman Nicholson”}; amzn_assoc_default_category = “All”;
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7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib 7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib – Kecelakaan beruntun yg kerap terjadi terakhir ini amat sangat mengagetkan kita sebab masih mesti berjalan sejarah yg menyeramkan itu bagaimanapun tutorial keamanan yg telah diperingatkan pula dibentangkan di jalan jalan itu. Faktor semacam ini kerap memutarbalikan bahwa kecelakaan itu disebebkan oleh elemen gaib. Jalan jalan mana sajakah yg kerap berjalan kecelakaan beruntun di Indonesia yg dipercaya ada unsur mistisnya?

berikut ialah 7 Jalan Indonesia Yg Tidak Jarang Berlangsung Kecelakaan Dikarenakan Perihal Gaib :

1. Rute Tol Jagorawi

7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib

Salah satu jalan tol tertua di Indonesia bersama panjang 46 kilo meter. ialah Jalan tol Jagorawi. Jalan ini di bangun terhadap tahun. 1973 buat menghubungkan kota Jakarta, Bogor pun Ciawi. Penerangan yg tetap konsisten kurang mencukupi di sebahagian titik & laju kendaraan yg melebihi batas kecepatan dikira pun juga sebagai pemicu paling mutlak rata-rata kecelakaan dijalan tol ini. dijalan tol inilah pun Dul, anak bungsu dari pasangan Ahmad Dhani Maia Estianty ikut pun kecelakaan maut yg menewaskan 6 orang.

2. Jalan Jenderal Sudirman, Ciamis 

7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib

Jalan paling penting pun yg menghubungkan provinsi Jawa Barat pun jateng sampai jalan ini selalu ramai dilewati kendaraan. Jalan yg dinamakan merupakan Jalan Jenderal Sudirman di Kab Ciamis. Di jalan ini pula pass kerap terjadi kecelakaan, pemicunya dari sejak mulai alasan logis seperti jalan yg alami penurunan sampai dengan alasan mistis ada sosok hantu perempuan kenakan baju serba merah yg menunggui jalan itu.

3. Tanjakan Emen Bandung

7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib

Rata Rata berjalan kecelakan jalan raya yg mengkonsumsi korban jiwa di ruangan Tanjakan Emen nampaknya pass bikin orang-orang memikirkan bahwa daerah ini menjadi berhantu. Sampai menurut mitos yg beredar, kamu harus melempar 2 batang rokok ke pinggir jalan jikalau tak ingin alami histori seram ketika melintasi daerah ini. Sebahagian orang yg tak melempar rokok alami sejarah aneh seperti kendaraan yg mendadak berhenti pula tonton sosok penampilan hantu anak mungil. Well, sanggup percaya atau tidak.

4. Jurusan Tol Cipularang 

7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib

Jalan tol Cipularang serta kerap dimaksud trayek maut ialah jalan paling sering terjadi kecelakaan di indonesia sebab rata rata kecelakaan yg berjalan di sini pula menyebabkan korban jiwa. Jalan tol ini menghubungkan kota Jakarta pun Bandung. Tak sama dibanding jalan tol lain rata-rata, jalan tol Cipularang tidak membentang lurus, namun jalan ini berkelok-kelok sesuaikan dgn pegunungan yg dilaluinya.

Konon daerah pegunungan yg dilewati oleh jalan tol Cipularang dahulunya adalah ruangan bersarangnya makhluk-makhluk gaib sampai unsur mistisnya benar benar kental. Daerah riskan kecelakaan ialah kepada kilometer 90 sampai dengan kilometer 100. Di tatkala kilometer itu, kita sanggup tonton patung kepala harimau juga kera yg peruntukannya tetap masih menyimpan misteri. barangkali kamu masihlah konsisten teringat kecelakaan yg menerpa istri Saipul Jamil kepada 2011 silam yg merenggut nyawanya tepat di selagi kilo meter itu.

5. Jalan Pantura

7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib

Jalan Pantura, urat nadi di pulau Jawa yg menghubungkan 3 provinsi di Jawa merupakan Jawa Barat, Jawa Tengah pun jatim. Jalan ini terhampar sewaktu utara pulau Jawa. Namun dibalik fungsinya yg benar benar kritikal ini, Jalan Pantura nyata-nyatanya memiliki sekian banyak daerah hitam juga kerap dijuluki rute tengkorak dikarenakan umumnya kecelakaan maut yg berjalan di trayek ini. Sekali lagi mahkluk halus dikira yang merupakan pemicu kecelakaan-kecelaan itu. Grup lain mempunyai pernyataan bahwa arwah penasaran korban Pantura yang merupakan pemicunya.

6. Rute Cadas Pangeran, Sumedang

7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib

Rute Cadas Pangeran akan kita temui dalam perjalanan dari Bandung menuju Sumedang. Daerah ini ialah daerah perbukitan pun kerap terjadi longsor. Tepat sama namanya, di tatkala jalan ini terdapat tidak sedikit batu cadas. Rata Rata kecelakaan yg konsumsi korban jiwa menyebabkan rute ini dimaksud salah satu rute paling angker di tempat ja-bar.

Sekian Banyak beberapa orang setempat meyakini ada sosok hantu perempuan menawan yg dapat bikin ingindara kendaraan bermotor jatuh ke jurang pun tewas. Tidak Cuma kecelakaan, di daerah ini akan kerap terjadi pembunuhan sadis, bahkan pun kerapkali mayat diketemukan dalam kondisi mengenaskan.

7. Jalan Munjul, Garut

7 Jalan Indonesia Yang Sering Terjadi Kecelakaan Karena Hal Gaib

Jawa Barat pun memiliki jalan yg lumayan kerap berjalan kecelakaan merupakan dijalan Munjul daerah Garut. Kalau dirata-rata dalam satu pekan mampu berjalan 3 kecelakaan. Sekian Banyak beberapa orang di sana mengemukakan bahwa pemicu kecelakaan itu yakni gardu listrik sepuh yg dikira mengganggu pemakai jalan. Namun sekian banyak beberapa orang lain mengemukakan bahwa kecelakaan itu karena oleh kedatangan makhluk halus yg mengganggu.
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Enid At the Crossroads: Surviving GHOST WORLD

Enid leaves town in GHOST WORLD.

Last week I revisited – as I occasionally do – Terry Zwigoff’s GHOST WORLD (2001). I consider this adaptation of Daniel Clowes’ 1997 graphic novel one of the finest films of our fledgling century and, not insignificantly, also one of its most comforting – an odd assertion to make, considering that its general complexity leans to the bizarre, the negative, and the unhappy. This was a pivotal viewing for me, as it compelled me – for the first time – to extend my viewing experience by seeking out the original graphic novel, an impressive achievement in its own right – however, also disappointing to me, in that few of the themes I’ve always valued most about the film were in original evidence.

Of course, what I take as the film’s message may differ from anyone else’s experience of the film, because each of us brings our own experience and moral requirements to any movie we see; every film is, in effect, co-authored by its audience. I was reminded of this fact when I posted some thoughts about this recent viewing on Facebook, which prompted one of my friends there (Darren Bullerwell) to ask a surprising question:

Did Enid die at the end of the movie? I ask this because they pass by the man waiting for the bus. He has sat there for weeks. When the bus finally arrives, the man is gone – presumably died. This happens to Enid at the end. The bus that no longer runs comes for her. I have asked other friends if this interpretation is correct. They think I am wrong.”

Rebecca and Enid talk with Norman.

I told Darren that this was not my own interpretation of the ending, though I couldn’t dispute its fairness given the information that the film presents. It should be noted that Daniel’s memory of events was slightly inaccurate. What actually happens in the film is that Enid (Thora Birch) and Rebecca (Scarlett Johansson) notice an older man named Norman (Charles C. Stevenson, Jr.) seated hopefully on a bus bench that has been stencilled “Not In Service.” In striking up a conversation with him as one of her hometown’s curiosities, Enid learns that Norman’s late wife used to catch the bus here, and he is now waiting for it to happen along and take him. Given Norman’s relation to the bus stop, there is reason to interpret it as some kind of death wish, if not a literal spectral ghost carriage. Daniel was incorrect, however, in remembering that Norman is gone when the bus finally arrives; instead, Enid witnesses the bus’ arrival and sees Norman climb dutifully aboard. The bus does run. At least it reappears, in apparent response to Norman’s hopes.

Speaking for myself, I’ve always cherished a somewhat different interpretation of the ending of the picture. The original Daniel Clowes graphic novel chronicles the slow disintegration of the bond between two girls who were best friends in high school, who move in different directions in response to life after graduating. In both, Rebecca ends up succumbing to the status quo of their home town, while Enid ends up leaving. The Terry Zwigoff film tells the same general story in an appreciably different, less negative way – by introducing the character of Seymour (Steve Buscemi), a thirtysomething misanthrope who has found and cultivated for himself a meaningful niche in life by collecting old 78s of blues and ragtime recordings. The two girls first encounter Seymour in the midst of a practical joke, but Enid later meets him again at a garage sale, where he’s selling old records. Having previously found something of unexpected value in the Bollywood film GUMNAAM (whose now-famous production number “Jaan Peechaan Ho” by Mohammed Rafi opens the film), she inquires if he has any old Indian rock-and-roll records, which leads him to recommend a collection of old blues recordings, which she buys for a pittance and later puts on in a dire moment when all her more familiar records trigger feelings of despair. In a moment that may have no equivalent elsewhere in cinema, Enid is playing the record as background while washing the punk green out of her hair when she happens to overhear Skip James’ 1931 recording of “Devil Got My Woman” and becomes caught up in it. Instead of being something to blast out in hostility at the rest of the world, Enid discovers that music can also be let in.

Enid at the crossroads, discovering the Blues.

To me, the primary difference between the two GHOST WORLD projects is that, through her serendipitous discovery of music, of something meaningful in an otherwise obscenely empty life, Zwigoff arms Enid with something she can love, which is what she needs to escape and survive the dead end life proposed by her home town – and this is why I personally find the notion of the bus as “suicide solution” impossible to accept.

What the bus represents to me, to use an old-fashioned word, is faith. The word faith doesn’t have a religious significance for me, but rather a mystical one. Norman’s belief that the bus will come, despite all other contrary outward signs, is a statement of faith, which is something that Enid can initially regard only with mockery. Norman is, along with Seymour, the only mockeries of the early part of the picture that Enid respects enough to examine more deeply, taking the trouble to interact with both men personally. In Norman, I would argue, she finds her faith, while in Seymour (whose name identifies him as a mentor) she finds a model for her own future survival. As Seymour describes himself, he’s something of a caretaker for “the lost culture of the 20th century,” so the “ghost world” of the title is actually his – though the phrase also invites our co-opting it as a criticism of the culturally empty real world we presently inhabit.

I love the film enough, and have seen it enough times now, to have discerned a thing or two that could have been pruned to make it even stronger. I feel that Norman’s allusion to his late wife may force some viewers toward a more negative reading of the film, so I wish that Zwigoff and Clowes had left his backstory more ambiguous. I also feel that the film continues a few scenes past its actual stop, which I feel occurs when Enid unexpectedly witnesses the bus’ arrival and sees Norman board it and ride away. This moment is followed by one of those rare shots in cinema that feel equal to the closing shot of Charlie Chaplin in CITY LIGHTS: we see Enid, suddenly beautiful, suddenly mature, suddenly invested (I believe) with a faith she has seen rewarded. Just before the fade-out, her expression turns sly and we know that she knows there is more happening here than what she has seen.

Enid’s moment of epiphany.

I’ve long suspected that the film might play better if it had the courage to end here, on an ambiguous note. But the film plods on a bit longer, showing Enid walking around her town, her heavy footfalls so locked in time with David Kitay’s BARRY LYNDON-like theme music that it seems a musical expression of her entrapment there – an entrapment so old as to encompass many earlier generations. And then, finally, one night, she ventures out to the disused bus stop with a single piece of luggage, where the bus arrives for her. Miracles can happen only once, so its arrival no longer surprises us; there may well be a mundane explanation now.

And now what?

GHOST WORLD imparts its most important message with Enid’s moment of epiphany. The flickering of each expression across her face seems to correspond to her reaction shots at the graduation ceremony, the scene where we first see her engaging with the real world; in maybe 10 seconds, she gives us something to measure her growth since the time when everything she saw in life, even the tragic things, seemed there for her haughty amusement or recoil. If stories end when their game changes, this is the end of Enid as we have known her; what will become of Enid after this Edward Hopper moment belongs to another story.

To date, GHOST WORLD has only been released domestically on DVD by MGM Home Entertainment. However, a region-free Blu-ray of the film has been released in Germany, in English with optional subtitles.

You can find some interesting “now and then” images of the GHOST WORLD bus stop at this Filmap page. amzn_assoc_placement = “adunit0”; amzn_assoc_enable_interest_ads = “true”; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = “vwblog-20”; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = “auto”; amzn_assoc_ad_type = “smart”; amzn_assoc_marketplace = “amazon”; amzn_assoc_region = “US”; amzn_assoc_linkid = “52f17b5e6f93210afdd26b9376b4dcd9”; amzn_assoc_emphasize_categories = “283155,130”; amzn_assoc_fallback_mode = {“type”:”search”,”value”:”Terry Zwigoff”}; amzn_assoc_default_category = “All”;
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Welcome To The Architecture of Ruins

Imagine a derelict movie theater – not just one, but dozens of them, all eroding from a virus no more virulent than a village of eyes pointed some other way, arranged in a deluxe catalogue of cultural and architectural decadence. Some of these places are still active but struggling; others groan under a weight of accumulating neglect; most seem to belong to a bizarre ghost town of the imagination. What were once, not so long ago, dream palaces have become bare-boned barns, the harsh juxtapositions of reality and its escape harmonizing in a lament that no one, that no thing, lasts forever.

Seats where audiences once gathered to thrill to colorful adventures now huddle in orgiastic collapse, their bare wooden backs scarred with the fan-traceries of furtive spiders. Rusting projectors stand sentry above over a fading fantasy of better days. In a more fortunate example, an auditorium of still erect seats are cloaked in individual white coverings, summoning what appears to be an audience of ghosts. Elsewhere, a marquee extends the full length of a city block but only five or six letters remain to identify the last film ever to play there, in Cinerama no less, and the lettering is Thai. 

“Welcome to the Architecture of Ruins,” reads the back cover of ONCE UPON A CELLULOID PLANET: WHERE CINEMA RULES HEARTS AND HOUSES OF FILMS IN THAILAND (FilmVirus, 1500 THB), a 516-page volume by Sonthaya Subyen and Morimart Raden-Ahmad, to heroic historians who decided to photograph the modern-day remnants of Thailand’s dying movie palace culture while its peeling but still-evocative façades were yet standing. In addition to the impressive photo-documentation, the book includes a number of guest essays by such international luminaries as Apichatpong Weerasethakul (UNCLE BOONMEE WHO CAN RECALL HIS PAST LIVES), Fred Kelemen (THE MAN FROM LONDON, THE TURIN HORSE) and Prabda Yoon (MOTEL MIST), and the award-winning writers Daenaran-Saengthong (SEA Write Award, Officiers de l’ordre des arts et des lettres in 2008), Suchart Sawasdsria (Thai National Artist of Literature, 2011), and Uthis Haemamool (SEA Write Writer Award 2009), all reminiscing about their formative experiences as young movie-goers. ONCE UPON A CELLULOID PLANET also includes sidebars documenting Thailand’s approaches to advertising film, via billboards, advertisements on wheels and bus ads.

While nostalgia obviously had a great deal to do with what motivated Subyen, Raden-Ahmad and their guest authors, it plays a more abstract role in how the book is absorbed by someone outside Thai culture. The accompanying texts are rich with descriptions of what it was like to inhabit these derelict structures when they were still vital, including reminiscences of the films that played there. However, one’s first impulse upon opening this book is to page through it, cover to cover, an experience which for me conveyed an eerily Ballardian charge with its peeling parade of long-vacated sensoriums. The text, which carefully and affectionately places the images in context, is all that prevents ONCE UPON A CELLULOID PLANET from seeming like an advanced, poetical work of post-apocalyptic science fiction. And its images carry a bitter punchline, appropriate to such science fiction, in that many of the abandoned structures profiled herein were built in the 1980s.

I was grateful to receive a gift copy of this remarkable book some months ago from Sonthaya Subyen, and I would have reviewed it promptly had there been any point to doing so. He informed me in separate correspondence that it had been published in a limited edition of fewer than 1,000 copies, of which only a few copies then remained. But I’m happy to report that this bilingual book – ONCE UPON A CELLULOID PLANET – a bilingual book, in Thai and English – is now available in a new slipcased “Black Box” edition. (I should mention that the images accompanying this report were photographed from the book on my iPad and imported to the blog; the originals are much brighter, sharper and more colorful in the book.)

This is a unique book and one you will be proud to own. The retail price of the Black Box edition is at 95 $ US, and some copies yet remain of the standard white cover edition (without any box) at 85 $ US (included shipping and handling anywhere in the world). For further information, send email inquiries to, or message them on their Facebook page ONCE UPON A CELLULOID PLANET.amzn_assoc_placement = “adunit0”; amzn_assoc_enable_interest_ads = “true”; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = “vwblog-20”; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = “auto”; amzn_assoc_ad_type = “smart”; amzn_assoc_marketplace = “amazon”; amzn_assoc_region = “US”; amzn_assoc_linkid = “52f17b5e6f93210afdd26b9376b4dcd9”; amzn_assoc_emphasize_categories = “283155,130”; amzn_assoc_fallback_mode = {“type”:”search”,”value”:”Movie Theaters”}; amzn_assoc_default_category = “All”;
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The Sale You’ve Been Waiting For

Mark Maddox’s original “Carmilla” cover art for VIDEO WATCHDOG 183 – available now!

We’re already a week into the month, so it’s high time that I mentioned here – as has already been done on our website – that another of our delightful “‘DoG Days of August” sales in presently in effect! We haven’t had one of these since our 100th issue was published, but it’s a great way to help you acquire more of our coveted back issues, to better familiarize yourself with our digital issues, and support your favorite film magazine.

Here’s the deal: For the remainder of this month, each back issue of VIDEO WATCHDOG can be yours for only $ 5 USA — hey, that’s $ 7 off the usual going price — and we’ll up the ante by adding the digital counterpart of that issue ABSOLUTELY FREE! When you compare the print edition to all the bells and whistles added to the digital experience, we’re betting that you’ll want to experience our entire back catalogue that way! (It is a glorious thing, if we do say so ourselves.)

Just head over here, select the issues you want, check out (no coupon code needed!) and we’ll deliver links to your free digital editions via email the minute we process your order (usually within minutes, but no later than 24 hours), and of course, we’ll mail your print issues out the very next day.

While you’re at it, be sure to snag the free digital version of VW 183 before it disappears!
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Hitchcock’s SABOTAGE: Beloved Faces in the Crowd’ve been enjoying myself the last couple of days, exploring the extensive supplementary contents of Criterion’s recent CLASSIC HITCHCOCK box set, and I believe I’ve just spotted something that may qualify as an important historical eureka. The disc for 1935’s THE 39 STEPS includes a half-hour documentary entitled HITCHCOCK: THE EARLY YEARS, which is of particular value for including on-screen reminiscences of several gentleman who worked as Hitch’s editors and assistants during his formative British period. Still more important, however, was the surprise I got during former 3rd assistant Teddy Joseph’s reminisce about a practical joke played on him during the filming of SABOTAGE (1936). This story was illustrated by a clip from the picture, detailing a scene which the documentary describes as the film’s most famous: it shows a boy named Stevie (Desmond Tester) running an errand, unknowingly transporting film cans that contain a high explosive. To ramp up the suspense, Hitchcock has the young messenger caught up in a crowd assembled to see the Lord Mayor’s Show procession. I’ve seen the film several times before, but not until now did I happen to notice a couple of familiar faces in the crowd.

Yes, indeed! The child whose view of the parade is blocked by Stevie is unmistakable as the young Patricia Hitchcock, daughter of the esteemed director, who went on to become one of the outstanding character actresses of her time. According to the IMDb, Ms. Hitchcock’s first appearance in a theatrical feature was her father’s STAGE FRIGHT (1950), preceded only by a TV movie in 1949. I can’t recall this cameo ever being mentioned in any of the many books about Alfred Hitchcock that I’ve read.

But what makes this clip still more valuable is that Alma Reville – who contributed to the screenplay and was also the esteemed Mrs. Hitchcock – is also on view to play the child’s mother, fussing over her little girl and finally hoisting her up to see the Mayor as he passes on horseback. Mrs. Hitchcock’s only other known appearance in a Hitchcock film was in THE LODGER (1927), in which she briefly appears as a woman listening to a wireless.

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