Television Review: BODY BAGS (1993, John Carpenter & Tobe Hooper)

Stars: 4.2 of 5.

Running Time: 95 minutes.

Tag-line: "Zip yourself in tight!"

Notable Cast or Crew:  Stacy Keach (FAT CITY, NEBRASKA), Robert Carradine (REVENGE OF THE NERDS, THE LONG RIDERS), Mark Hamill (STAR WARS, CORVETTE SUMMER), David Warner (WAXWORK, TRON), Alex Datcher (PASSENGER 57, NETHERWORLD), Twiggy (THE BOYFRIEND),  Deborah Harry (of Blondie and TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE: THE MOVIE), Tom Arnold (TRUE LIES, SONS OF ANARCHY), Peter Jason (DEADWOOD, PRINCE OF DARKNESS), David Naughton (AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON, MIDNIGHT MADNESS), George "Buck" Flower (THEY LIVE, THE FOG, BACK TO THE FUTURE), John Agar (TARANTULA, MIRACLE MILE), Charles Napier (THE BLUES BROTHERS, THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS).  With cameos by Tobe Hooper, Wes Craven, Sam Raimi, Greg Nicotero, Roger Corman.  Written by Billy Brown and Dan Angel (GOOSEBUMPS the TV series).  Special effects by Rick Baker, Greg Nicotero, Howard Berger  Produced by Carpy, his missus Sandy King, and Dan Angel.  Music by Carpy and Jim Lang (IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS, RANSOM).  Cinematography by Gary Kibbe (A FEW GOOD MEN, THEY LIVE).

Best One-liner:  "Natural causes, natural causes, natural causes...  I hate natural causes!  Give me a big stab wound to poke at and then I'm happy."  –John Carpenter as "The Coroner"

[Note that this is not intended as a continuation of "Poor Man's Carpy," as though that series will live to see the light of day again, BODY BAGS is in no way indicative of a poor man's anything– this is vintage "Forgotten Carpy."]

In a familiar, darkened alley, two Thunderbird-swilling cineastes make small-talk:

"Watcha got there?"
–"BODY BAGS."
"What's that?"
–"Only the best omnibus horror movie you've never seen."
"That's a bold claim.  Put it in terms I can understand."
–"Not as good as CREEPSHOW.  Better than CREEPSHOW 2.  Slightly better than TRILOGY OF TERROR.  About on par with TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE: THE MOVIE."
"Why have I never heard of this?"
–"Well, back when HBO was on the rise and TALES FROM THE CRYPT was enjoying widespread popularity, Showtime decided it was time to get into the horror anthology game and enlisted the likes of John Carpenter and Tobe Hooper.  Carpenter ultimately decided that he couldn't make the work he wanted to for the budget they were offering, so Showtime called it even and made a three-part anthology TV movie."
"Who hosts it?  A rip-off Cryptkeeper?"
–"Funny you should ask.  Why don't you sit down for a spell?"
"Why?"
–"Trust me, you're gonna want to be sitting down for this."
"Okay, so who's their Cryptkeeper?"
–"He's called 'The Coroner,' and it's none other than.... John Carpenter himself! 

Wearing scrubs, ghoulish makeup, and a sort of Beetlejuice-ish demeanor, Carpy does not disappoint as he mugs about, dropping one-liners, handling disembodied heads, and the like.  He's no actor, but it doesn't matter, because he's having fun."

He's also their MGM lion!

"Nice!"
–"Yeah, right?  Check it out– here he's making himself a martini out of formaldehyde."

"You said there's ghoul makeup on him?"
–"Yes..."
"Isn't that what Carpy looks like all the time?"
–"Why don't you just shut it."
"Hey, I'm just telling it like it is."
–"Drop it."
"But–"
 –"Annnyway, there are three segments and a frame story.  'The Gas Station,'  'Hair,' and the morgue frame are all directed by Carpenter.  The third segment, 'Eye,' is directed by Tobe Hooper.  All the segments are written by Dan Angel and Billy Brown, whose careers as R.L. Stine TV-adapters should give you a pretty good idea of their strengths and their weaknesses.  Angel, Carpy, and Sandy King (Carpy's missus) produced everything, though, so it has a very uniform feel."
"What about the music?  Those TV people didn't clip Carpy's wings, did they?"
–"It's Carpenter and Jim Lang (his collaborator on IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS), so it's definitely a more rockin' soundtrack, as opposed to one of pulsing dread like PRINCE OF DARKNESS.  They keep it light for the most part (I'd compare it to the high-reverb drums and roaming bass of BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA), dipping into TWIN PEAKS-ish jazz for the comedic moments.  But it's certainly capable of conveying a darker atmosphere when necessary, sometimes veering into CHRISTINE-ish territory or something similar to Mike Oldfield's 'Tubular Bells' from THE EXORCIST."
"So it feels cinematic?"
–"Oh yes.  And Gary Kibbe (Carpenter's cinematographer in his post-Dean Cundey era, from 1987-2001) provides very workmanlike, evocative visuals, using wide-angle lenses and dolly set-ups to great effect.  It doesn't feel like something intended for the small screen, not by a long shot."
"Sounds pretty good.  Why don't ya tell me about the segments?"
–"Alrighty.  So the first one is called 'The Gas Station,' and yep, it takes place entirely at a gas station.  In tone, it feels a lot like a condensed version of HALLOWEEN (Haddonfield, Illinois even gets a mention!), but it's not too shocking, just a straightforward, well-made suspense piece with those two key elements: a slasher and an unsuspecting lassie.  Alex Datcher is our likable heroine, a college gal who's first time pulling the night-shift solo proves to be a memorable one.
 

The Carradine named Robert shows her the ropes (it's got that nice blue-collar cred that you see in everything from THE THING to VAMPIRES), and Carpenter uses a great economy of storytelling to

introduce the characters, the rules, and the spatial relationships. 

As her shift begins, we're treated to a rogue's gallery of horror cameos and familiar faces, and it almost begins to develop a quirky, Jim Jarmusch-style flavor of 'late nite slice-of-life,' like NIGHT ON EARTH or MYSTERY TRAIN.  There's 'Buck' Flower, playing (predictably) a scary hobo:

a sleazy Peter Jason wearing a brilliantly awful tie (just as bad as Chris Sarandon's in BORDELLO OF BLOOD, for sure) and urging our heroine to party:

AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON's David Naughton as what seems to be an unassuming, decent guy:

and Wes Craven

as a creepy fellow buying himself some cigarettes."

"Oooh, Wes Craven is sooo scary.  I'm afraid he's gonna teach me some liberal arts or something."

–"Oh, hush.  Then it kicks into high gear, and Sam Raimi gets a cameo as a corpse tumbling out of a locker:

 "Aieee!"

–"I must make an aside to mention that in the special features, Carpenter speaks at length about the production, saying 'I thought Wes was especially smooth in his part,' for instance, and of course, he knows everyone's name– except Sam Raimi, whom he refers to as 'Uh...Spider-Man.'  I find this for some reason to be fantastic."

–"Ha!"

"Anywho, then the shit hits the fan and doesn't let up.  I won't spoil how it ends, but it has a nice visceral payoff while remaining entirely uncomplicated."

–"Sounds pretty good.  What's next?"

"Probably my favorite segment of the three:  'Hair.'  It's played more for laughs than the others, but it's got some freakier elements to it, too.  One of my favorite actors, Stacy Keach, plays a man undergoing a midlife crisis:  he's losing his hair and letting it ruin his life.

 

For what is ostensibly a 'comedy' segment, Keach infuses his role with an incredible pathos– his misplaced anger, helpless frustration, and existential sadness play effortlessly across his face.

(Keach and Carpenter got along quite well, with Keach comparing Carpenter in the special features to John Huston.  They'd work together again on ESCAPE FROM L.A., with Keach taking on the Lee Van Cleef role.)
Keach tries everything– hairpieces, posh stylists, painted on hair– until he sees genre legend David Warner in an infomercial, promising the results that Keach has found elusive:
 
 
He makes an appointment and meets with Dr. Warner and his lovely nurse, Debbie Harry (of Blondie!) who, in an apparent in-joke, does not have her trademark blonde locks.  Coupled with VIDEODROME and her TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE appearances, I think we have to refer to Debbie as a bona fide genre actress!

Warner's having a blast, too– you get the sense that they were on set for a day or so, and just went for it."

"I do loves me some David Warner."
–"Yeah.  I wish he'd get more high-profile work.  I thought for sure TITANIC would have opened some doors for him.  Eh.  Annnyway, Keach receives the hair transplant,

and his childlike glee could move mountains.  Keach is simply phenomenal.  I'd like to take a moment to plug FAT CITY, too, a Huston film that he's masterful in.
"Stay on topic!  So what happens?"
–"As if I'd tell ya.  Let's just say that the hair may have a mind of its own..."

"Well, now I'm intrigued."
–"Good.  So that brings us to our final segment, 'Eye,' the Tobe Hooper one.  It's by far the weakest, but I don't think that's entirely Hooper's fault.  Mark Hamill plays a baseball player with a mustache and a Southern accent who gets into a car wreck and loses his eye.

 Luckily, his doctors (including Roger Corman, pictured center)

have developed a technique for eye transplants, and they think he's a candidate for a new and exciting transplant surgery."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Mark Hamill plays a guy who gets in a car accident and needs reconstructive surgery to save his career?  Don't you think that hits a little close to home?"
–"Yeah, I suppose so.  But Hamill's a trouper.  He even shows his balls in this movie."
"WHAT?  Why are you telling me this?"
–"I don't know.  It seems like it'd be a trivia question.  'What movie does Luke Skywalker show his balls in?'"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, this segment is called 'Eye,' not 'Eyeballs.'  Right?"
–"Yep.  It's just that thing where if you see something traumatizing, you have to tell someone else to lessen your own trauma.  It's this damn HD era, really."
"Well, thanks a lot.  Moving on..."
–"Well, after the eye transplant, he starts wearing sweatpants and having eerie visions and mistreating his wife Twiggy."

"Twiggy?  There's some pretty weird casting in this movie."
–"Yeah, there really is.  In the special features, Sandy King says that some of the Carpenter stable came from her connection to Walter Hill's THE LONG RIDERS, where she was script supervisor.  This includes Stacy Keach, Peter Jason, and Keith Carradine.  As for the others, I have no idea."
"Wow, so Peter Jason is in six John Carpenter movies, just because of a random connection on THE LONG RIDERS.  Pretty cool."
 –"Yeah.  Anyway, Hamill tries to uncover where the unholy eye came from, and..."
 
"Well, where did it come from?  Lemme guess.  A convict that was executed?  Right?  Am I right?"
–"Oh, hush.  I'm not saying.  Also, his eye surgeon has the vanity plate, 'I BALL,' which I thought was worth mentioning."
 

"Fascinating." 

–"Yeah.  Then we round things out with the frame story, which closes with morgue attendant cameos by Tom Arnold and Tobe Hooper and delivers one final twist."

 

"Nice.  This all sounds up my alley."

–"I highly recommend it.  It's out on a new(ish) DVD/Blu-ray release from Scream Factory, and I gotta say, it looks great.  So let me leave ya with one last sentiment, courtesy of The Coroner:

 

NIGHTY-NIGHT!"

 -Sean Gill

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John Carpenter Fanfiction: CARPY & THE CAP'N- PART 3: SEASON OF THE WITCH (2010, Sean Gill)

CARPY & THE CAP'N:

A NEW WORK OF JOHN CARPENTER FAN-FICTION

BY SEAN GILL


Author's Note: This piece was preceded by
PART I: LOS ANGELES PRELUDE
and
PART II: RETURN TO POINT REYES.


PART III.
SEASON OF THE WITCH.

9.
10:37 P.M. April 27, 1993. Grauman's Chinese Theater, Hollywood, California.

Outside of Grauman's Chinese theater, all was quiet. The stillness was quite remarkable given the sheer amount number of raucous Cap'n Ron fans in attendance, John Carpenter thought as he thrust his hands deeply in his pockets. He paced back and forth, quite aimlessly. He'd survived a sufficient number of premieres to shed any real, crippling anxieties, yet his legs were still restless. He turned toward the theater again. It was draped with four enormous one-sheets, symmetrically arranged. The posters looked like this:
He glanced at his watch. The film should be ending any moment now. Suddenly, one of the doors swung open, and a tuxedo'd Kurt Russell strode out, purposefully.
"The big zinger's comin' up!" gushed Kurt.

"You didn't want to see their reactions?"
"Nah, I wanted to be out here with you, Johnny. We'll see their reactions soon enough, HAW-HAW-HAWWW!"

Faintly, he could hear the closing credits strains of the Coupe de Villes' "O Captain! My Captain (Ron)." A murmur within grew to a roar, and suddenly the red carpet was teeming with well-dressed Hollywood professionals and professional hangers-on (all equipped with martinis, of course). John was faced with a line of well-wishers, and while it was pleasant, he began to zone out their smiling faces and kind words and focus in on random martini chatter in the background. Here's some of what he heard:

"I didn't understand- is it a sequel to CAPTAIN RON, THE FOG, CHRISTINE, or ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK? Or is it all of them?"

"Ho-leee shit, that reveal of Snake Plissken at the end blew my goddamned mind! Now I have to rewatch CAPTAIN RON and check for foreshadowing! How did I not see it? They've even got the same eyepatch! It's like how Clark Kent fooled the staff of the Daily Planet!"

"Soooo lame. Carpenter's losing it. It's all been downhill since THE RESURRECTION OF BRONCHO BILLY. And what was with that soundtrack? It sounded like it was recorded by some old dudes in a basement."

"I liked it. A lot. But I must admit I was creeped out by all the Tom Atkins nudity."

"Wait, wait, wait. If Captain Ron and Snake Plissken are one and the same, then why doesn't shirtless Captain Ron have the snake tattoo?"
–"Because he hasn't gotten it yet, asshole! ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK takes place in 1997. This is 1993, jag-off."

"This has got to be his worst movie since THE THING. Or at least since that BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINATOWN. And the effects looked fake. Rubber and shadows. That's all it is. Why doesn't he get on board with these, uh, what're they called? From the TERMINATOR 2. Yeah, these C-G-I effects."

"Dennis Dun was born to do these kinds of movies. Why is Carpenter the only one giving him work?"

"BUCK FLOWERZ PART WUSHN'T BIG ENUFFF!"

At this last announcement, John actually turned around to see Buck Flower, dressed in a trenchcoat and swilling malt liquor from a brown paper bag. John arched a knowing eyebrow, smirked, and Buck shuffled away. As the night progressed, John became weary. He caught his eyes losing their focus and he looked down at the red carpet, now an indistinct, crimson blob. Something else that was red entered his field of vision. Something red and plaid. He shook his eyes to attention and looked up to see a kilt-wearing 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper. Piper wore an expression of sheer emotion upon his face, and there was a touch of wetness from where a single tear had streamed. Before John could say anything, he found himself caught up in a bear hug of titanic proportions.

"You're like that man you admire," pronounced Roddy.
"Who?"

"That director, did that picture with the Duke."

"Howard Hawks?"
"Yes. You show us how to live."
"Well, let's not get carried away, Roddy."

"You never admit to yourself what you are, John. You're one of the giants."
"Thank you, Roddy."

Roddy released his grip, straightened John's suit in a gesture that was at once strangely boyish and grandfatherly, and walked on. John felt renewed, somehow. He was filled with an indescribable energy he hadn't quite felt since his youth in Bowling Green. He straightened his cuffs and turned to face... Adrienne Barbeau.

"Adrienne, great to see you." They hugged.

"I liked it, John. Nice to see some humor after all these apocalyptic...meditations."

"Well, thank you. And thanks for being in it!"
"I figured a little voiceover cameo was the least I could do."
"I think it's nice for the audience to know that Stevie Wayne's still out there, somewhere, broadcasting snappy jazz and sultry weather reports."
Adrienne chuckled. "I'll see you around, John."

As she walked away, John felt a tap on his shoulder. Before he knew it, Kurt had handed him a martini glass and raised his own in a salute. Goldie Hawn stood awkwardly behind him.
"Cheers!"
"To Captain Ron..." offered John.
"To the best damn buddy I ever had," said Kurt.
"Cheers." John took a sip, but was immediately repulsed by the taste of coconut-infused monstrosity that rippled in his glass. "Wait a minute- is this-??!"

"It's Malibu, Johnny-boy! HAW HAWWWW!!!"
"Ye Gods!" exclaimed John, swishing his tongue in a futile attempt to cleanse his palate. The two men laughed for a long time.

10.
7:27 P.M. May 13, 1993. The basement of Nick Castle.

"Naw, Jamie, it's a little quicker than that. Up-tempo. Two, three, four!"
The Coupe de Villes rocked out harder than ever. They had a whole new slate of hot songs from the CAPTAIN RON soundtrack, ranging from pleasant ditties like "(He's the) Captain of the Ship" and "She Lives in Antonio Bay" to dark prog rock tracks like "Into the Fog," a song featuring a six-minute guitar solo by Tommy Lee Wallace which everyone agreed was downright Stygian. But for now, there was a new face amongst the Coupe de Villes: Jamie Lee Curtis, on drums. For some reason, she was wearing her costume from PERFECT.
Of course, she was only sitting in for a few rehearsals, but she'd felt so bad about missing out on CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG that she felt indebted to the band.
"Rockin' practice, fellas. ...And lady," remarked Nick Castle.
"I agree," said John.
"What about the elephant in the room?" asked Tommy.
"What about this?" Tommy waved a copy of Variety in the air. John, knowing what was coming, pursed his lips. Nick and Jamie looked to the magazine with interest.
"Says here that 'CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG is a futile exercise in self-promotion,' blah blah blah, 'an excuse to get his cronies a soundtrack album deal,' blah blah, 'a rip-roaring good time for no one, unless you're the cretinous sort who sees BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA as the pinnacle of film art,' blah blah, uh... and here: 'certainly the front runner for worst film of the year, and I've already seen BOXING HELENA, SUPER MARIO BROTHERS, and COP AND A HALF.'
There was a long pause, and Jamie Lee Curtis and the Coupe de Villes eyed one another, unsure what to say.
"Don't you care?" asked Tommy. "It's the Inquisition! It's SEASON OF THE WITCH all over again!"
"No," replied John. "I don't. These things might not really find their audiences for ten, twenty years or more. And the people who like 'em, LOVE 'em. I didn't make my movie for these flavor-of-the-month simpletons. I didn't give them any thought when I was making it. So I'll especially give them no thought afterward."
"John's right, you gotta put it out of your mind, or you'll just torture yourself. And over what? Some pencil neck in an office who doesn't know shit from Shinola," concurred Jamie.
"Check this out," offered Nick, pulling a different publication from his back pocket. "Cahiers du cinéma. It's their half-year issue, and they've assembled a list of the best films of 1993 so far. See, look who's number two... US!"
"Who's number one?" inquired Tommy.
"CARLITO'S WAY," read Nick. "So if Cahiers didn't have such a hard-on for all things De Palma, we'd be number one."
"YAH-EH-YUHH!" screamed Tommy, offering his fist. Nick placed his hand atop his, and John followed suit.
"What's happening?" wondered Jamie.
"It's a little thing we do," explained John. "Call it a secret handshake."
"COOOOOOOOOOOP DE VILLES!!!" they yowled, in unison.

11.

5:27 P.M. June 13, 1993. John Carpenter's home. Hollywood Hills, California.

John Carpenter reclined on his couch as Kurt Russell noisily wolfed down a super nacho platter. They were watching the third game of the 1993 NBA finals, a much-anticipated match between Phoenix and Chicago.
Watching basketball together was a common activity for John and Kurt; occasionally they'd spend hours together without even speaking at all, and yet it still felt to them like quality time. Today's game was not particularly thrilling, and neither was feeling very invested.
"What you got comin' up, Johnny?"
"Oh, yeah. Forgot to tell you. Anthology movie on Showtime called BODY BAGS. Premieres in August. Gonna be doing some acting in this one."
"Yeah? "
"Well, not a lot of acting. More like the narrator. A master of ceremonies."
"HAAAAA! You think you're Rod Serling, Johnny-boy?"
"Nah, I'm more of a Ghoul, or something."
"Good, so you won't need to hire a makeup artist... HAAAWWWW HAAAWW!"
"Verrrry amusing, Kurt."
"I'm just jerkin' yer turkey, man. Heh, heh."
"What about you?"
"Little flick called TOMBSTONE."
"That's right. A Western. Damn. Who's directing?"
"I am," Kurt whispered softly, winking. "But don't tell anybody. On the record, it's a guy named Cosmatos. Stallone gave me the lowdown on TANGO & CASH."
"Well, well..." John pondered, "who'd've thought you'd ever be directing, and I'd be acting? Or that you'd be directing a Western before I did?"
"It's the CAPTAIN RON thing. He turns everybody's lives upside down. It's what he does."
John smirked and took a swig of his beer.
"But you have no idea, Johnny– everything I know about directing, I learned from you."
"I don't think I'd be such a great teacher- 'John Carpenter' films are the only kind I know how to make."
Kurt chuckled, but then looked away, collecting himself. His manner became quite serious. "I, uh, don't know if I ever told you this, Johnny, but... I always saw you as a big brother. And now, gettin' to do what you do- in a manner of speaking- it's uh... I don't know what. It's great."
"Thank you, Kurt, that means a lot."
"Pity about CAPTAIN RON 2, though."
"Don't worry, it'll find its audience down the line."
"That's cold comfort to the Cap'n. But you know what I think?"
"What?"
"Remember the tale of Walt Disney's last words?" Kurt was referring to the legend that just before Walt Disney died, he had summoned for a pencil and paper, written the words 'Kurt Russell,' and then expired.
"Yeah. I thought you didn't believe it."
"Well, I'm still friendly with a lot of folks at Disney, and a few weeks ago they let me down into the vault. Showed me the actual piece of paper. It certainly had the look of authenticity. You can't fake that dead man's scrawl. And it said, 'Kurt Russell,' alright. But there was something about the placement of the name, and a purposeful stroke to the right. It's almost as if it were the beginning of a sentence which was never finished. Now maybe it was a misfiring synapse, he'd just seen FOLLOW ME, BOYS!, and he had my name in his mind by mistake when he really meant to write something else... Or maybe he had a vision of the future. Maybe he was going to write- 'Kurt Russell, team up with John Carpenter and make some of the best damn movies of all time.'"
"I don't think old Walt would have held a favorable view of THE THING."
"Oh, shoosh it. I'm trying to say something nice."
"Well, thank you, Kurt. You're a treasure, too."

12.

8:56 P.M. June 13, 1993. The interior of Kurt Russell's pick-up truck.

Kurt chawed on a gargantuan ham sammy as he drove home from John Carpenter's place. It was a lovely Sunday evening, and the sun was still setting as he made his journey through Laurel Canyon. His car phone began ringing, and, setting down his sandwich, he picked up the receiver.
"Kurt?"
"Hiya, Goldie."
"You on your way home?"
"Yup. Yessiree, the check is in the mail."
"What?"
"Nevermind. Ten minutes."
"Okay, honey. See you soon."
"Bye." Kurt moved to place the receiver in its cradle, but paused. Without thinking, he picked it up again, and began speaking, despite the fact there was no one on the other end:
"Just remember what ol' Kurt Russell does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Kurt Russell just looks that big ol' storm right square in the eye and he says, 'Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.'" He sharply hung up the phone, chortling privately to himself.

Meanwhile, in the bed of the truck, the desert wind fluttered a tarp, briefly revealing none other than Powers Boothe, curled and crouched and ready to spring, a devious grin upon his lips.
In the distance, heat lightning flashed and thunder rumbled and somewhere a scrappy kid was watching BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA for the first time and life was good.

THE END

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John Carpenter Fanfiction: CARPY & THE CAP'N- PART 2: RETURN TO POINT REYES (2010, Sean Gill)

CARPY & THE CAP'N:

A NEW WORK OF JOHN CARPENTER FAN-FICTION

BY SEAN GILL


Author's Note: If you missed Part I: Los Angeles Prelude, may I suggest that you read it before proceeding.

PART II.
RETURN TO POINT REYES.

6.

6:35 P.M. June 21, 1992. The Old Western Saloon. Point Reyes, California.

The fifth day of the shoot had just come to a close, and John ruminated upon on the previous week's events while sitting by a pot-bellied stove and sipping on a bourbon. The film had been beset by a number of problems, but the cast and crew were still keeping their heads above water- so to speak. When he'd arrived on the 15th, though the actors' call wasn't for two days, Dennis Dun was already there, getting the lay of the land and doing some research on his character.
He'd be playing 'Captain Kwon,' and John didn't have the heart to tell him that any preparation might be too much, considering the level of dignity (or lack thereof) which the part entailed.

On the 17th, the rest of the actors arrived- familiar faces like Buck Flower, Peter Jason, Tom Atkins. Unfortunately, a few of the former principals were unavailable- Jamie Lee Curtis was off shooting pick-ups for FOREVER YOUNG, and Adrienne Barbeau was caught up in a miniseries called THE BURDEN OF PROOF, but on such short notice, John considered that it was to be expected. The most notable newcomer was the actor playing 'Blake.' The original Blake, of course, had been obscured by makeup and shadow and was played by special effects artist Rob Bottin. (When John had called to tell him he'd been 'replaced,' Rob had feigned indignation, and they'd joked around for a bit- but Rob was in the thick of it on a third ROBOCOP movie, so they didn't have a chance to adequately catch up.) The new guy was a fearsome gent whose performance as Philip Marlowe had really struck a chord for John- his name was Powers Boothe, and John was confident that he'd get on famously with the ensemble.

Kurt rolled in a bit late ("Captain Ron time" and all that), but John couldn't grouse too much because another actor was even later than he– "Rowdy" Roddy Piper.
Roddy, who would be playing Captain Ron's brother "Nardo," blew in on the afternoon of the 18th, but then insisted so sincerely that he'd misplaced his daily organizer in the wrong kilt and misremembered the date, that John felt strangely guilty for his premature annoyance.

The first scene they shot was a flashback between Captain Ron and Nardo, and John was immediately unsettled by the odd vocal affectation that Kurt was employing.
"What's with the voice, Kurt?"
"AHHHAAA! What, you don't like it, Johnny? It's Cap'n Ron's voice! Gotta keep it for continuity!"
John looked to Sandy, who shrugged her shoulders. "Continuity," she conceded.
John made something of a half-scowl which slowly transformed into a bemused smile. "This is CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG, after all," he told himself.
"I love the voice!" gushed 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper. "Can I do one, too?"
"Sure, sure," John consented. "Do whatever you want."

John overcame this dangerous initial detachment, and some of the best work thus far had occurred on the second day. It was full of action scenes, and John could settle straight in to the 'pure cinema' aspect of it.
Dennis Dun swished swords and swashed buckles, Powers Boothe looked scary as hell putting 'Rowdy' Roddy into a headlock, and Kurt swung across a deck on a rope like Tarzan. While it wasn't exactly Hawks, he was finding himself embracing the sort of filmmaking that hadn't really been seen since the days of Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone. But he was finding the horror aspect to be somewhat lacking. Attempts at forcing Kurt and Rowdy Roddy to embrace the spirit of the picture and read H.P. Lovecraft's THE SHADOW OVER INNSMOUTH or THE DUNWICH HORROR ended in failure; but he finally convinced them to read THE TERRIBLE OLD MAN, which was only four pages long. The problem was not illiteracy, per sé– it was Kurt's Malibu n' margarita obsession that had now spilled over onto Roddy. These kitschy hi-jinks were not affecting the quality of their performances, John surmised, but they certainly had to be affecting the quality of their leisure time.

7.

8:19 P.M. June 21, 1992. Near Tomales Bay, California.

John left the bar and, lighting up a cigarette, walked down a dirt road toward the marshes at Tomales Bay. Captain Ron's ship, The Wanderer (a Formosa 51 yacht weathered and painted for a vintage look) was docked by the shore.

On deck, he could see Kurt gyrating and boogieing about for an audience comprised of Buck Flower and Roddy Piper. Buck shook dollar bills about in the air and pumped his fists, apparently believing himself to be in attendance at a dogfight. John felt the brisk sea breeze blowing against his face and through his hair. He heard the silly debaucheries in the distance and gentle waters lapping against the smooth hull of the Wanderer. "This," he thought, "is why I do what I do." He stood there for a long time, eyes closed, his idyll uninterrupted... until a booming voice emerged from the empty space beside him.
"Hell of a sunset, isn't it, Carpenter."
John opened his eyes and turned to see Powers Boothe regarding the seascape with reverence.
"Sure is."
"Blake would see it as an invitation. The cold, beckoning finger which wrenches him nightly from a watery grave."
"What do you see it as, Powers?"
"What I see it as isn't worth a tin shit. While I'm here, I'll look like Blake, I'll talk like Blake. I'll think like Blake."
"Maybe you and Blake just have a lot in common."
Powers stared into his eyes with a coldness and precision which chilled him, and then chuckled, smiling.
"I'll see you around, Carpenter."
"Twelve noon, Captain Ron time."
"No..." Powers focused his eyes on a point in the distance. "I'll see you on 'Blake time.'"
"Oh yeah, when's that?"
"ANYTIME...." Powers winked. "Every time... All time..." Powers continued to mutter as he walked off.
John continued to watch the sunset, but with vague trepidation. "It's good," he thought to himself, "to be on one's toes while shooting a horror picture."

8.

10:45 P.M. July 20, 1992. The Lighthouse at Drake's Bay.

The final day of shooting. It had been a real doozy. They'd managed to pack so much into one day already, and yet they still had one final scene to shoot. John reflected on the day's events and the Herculean accomplishments of the cast and crew:

At 11:00 AM, they'd shot Tom Atkins' nude scene. It was a closed set, but Kurt and Roddy had managed to sneak in, and they made noises approximating flatulence throughout by pumping their cupped hands in their armpits, much to John's chagrin. Gary Kibbe, being a pro of the highest degree, got the shots he needed anyway.

At 2:00, they'd shot Buck Flower's big death scene. In the first FOG movie, Buck played a character named 'Tommy Wallace' who had met a grisly, watery end. In the second, he played a character named 'Lee Wallace ('Tommy's' brother) who met a grisly, watery end. "How come you play such a good hobo?" asked Sandy, a few days into the shoot. Buck grinned a terrible grin from behind his unkempt, fleecy whiskers, and suddenly any answer whatsoever would have been entirely redundant.At 5:00, they shot Blake's monologue, which was one of the centerpieces of the script. There'd been a lot of argument about whether or not Blake should actually speak, but as soon as Powers had been cast, the decision was unanimous: to not let him speak would be a crime. Powers nailed it in one take. When John had congratulated him on his excellent work, Powers curiously closed his eyes and inhaled and exhaled with great purpose. Much later, nearly everyone present would claim they had felt an icy chill and seen a green mist curling under the door, despite the fact that all of the fog machines had been safely powered down...

At 7:00, they did the close-ups for the chase scene. The stunt driving was long in the can (shot in late June), but to finish the scene was something special- you see, it involved a 1958 Plymouth Fury (a car quite familiar to fans of CHRISTINE) being driven by Kurt Russell.
Dennis Dun was riding shotgun, and slinging verbal barbs to and fro with Kurt. John figured that Kurt would heartily enjoy getting behind the wheel of a '58 Fury, but he only razzed him for all the ones he'd needlessly destroyed during CHRISTINE. "It wasn't needless," protested John, but Kurt loudly unleashed some witty jeer about "hot roddin' sonsawbitches" which drew the applause of the crew. John couldn't decide whether it was the sheer number of scenes to stage or Kurt's charming insolence which was making the day dawdle so.

At 9:30, they shot a pick-up of buddy-bonding involving Tom, Dennis, Kurt, and a few local volunteers. The scene was pure Hawks, and it was terrific to finally shoot it.
He'd briefed the boys two days earlier at a screening of RIO BRAVO in his hotel room– "He showed us ourselves, the way we area, the way we should be... that's why you gents are pulling together to engage Blake– he already got his revenge, but still he wants more. All you want to do is live self-determining lives. Blake, conversely, is self-obsessed. Blake is chaos. The title may be CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG, but that's not how Hawks would've looked at it. It's not the HIGH NOON model: GARY COOPER VERSUS THE GUNSLINGERS. It's the communal model. The RIO BRAVO model. JOHN WAYNE AND DEAN MARTIN AND RICKY NELSON AND WALTER BRENNAN VERSUS THE OUTLAWS. There's just not room for that on the marquee."

Finally, it was 10:45. Time for the final take of the final scene of the final day. The lighthouse shone ominously in the moonlight. A brisk ocean breeze was blowing into shore.
Kurt, Powers, and Roddy were ready and set. John looked through the camera's eyepiece and nodded to Gary Kibbe. He turned and smiled at Sandy. "This is the martini," Sandy declared to the crew.
"Action!"
Captain Ron dashed up the grated metal steps of the lighthouse, Blake's shadowy presence on his heels. Out of nowhere, Nardo leapt on Blake's back and the beach bum wrestled the wraith quite skillfully, allowing Captain Ron to escape to the lighthouse's roof. Enraged, Blake battled, gained the upper hand, and tossed Nardo down a flight of spiraling stairs, incapacitating him and allowing Blake to proceed to the roof where he could settle his affairs with Captain Ron. Blake glided up to the staircase's end and tore the metal portal from its hinges. Slavering like a wild beast, Blake approached Ron and the camera tracked across to a pair of feet, standing their ground quite stoically. Only they weren't the familiar sand-encrusted flip-flops we'd seen moments before– it was a pair of combat boots tightly tucked with gray camouflage pants. The camera tilted upward to reveal...

TO BE CONTINUED... IN "CARPY & THE CAP'N PART III: SEASON OF THE WITCH"...

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