Horror Master Stuart Gordon Talks Re-Animator, Lovecraft and MPAA Ratings
Photo by Frazer Harrison/GettyIf the 1930s and 1940s were the golden age of the classical Hollywood cinema, and the 1970s gave us the American New Wave via the films of Scorsese, Bogdanovich, Coppola, et al., the 1980s represents its own kind of golden age: the golden age of North American horror. As the “Easy Riders, Raging Bulls” era wound down, a new breed of artist emerged to react both to and against the mores of the Reagan epoch just as the children of Bonnie and Clyde responded to the age of Nixon. Directors like Wes Craven, John Carpenter, Larry Cohen and Joe Dante countered the prevailing nostalgia and complacency of the time with witty, often savage commentaries on race, family values, and Reaganomics. Perhaps the most emblematic moment in their work came when an unemployed construction worker put his sunglasses on to expose the consumerist ideology lying behind all of our images in Carpenter’s They Live.
One of the most confrontational—and, perhaps not coincidentally, most unabashedly entertaining—of the ’80s horror masters was Stuart Gordon, a Chicago theater director-turned-filmmaker whose debut movie Re-Animator announced a spectacularly bold and original voice. Like most great horror, that film not only ignored boundaries of good taste but demolished them, particularly in an ingenious visual pun in which a still functioning decapitated head … well, as Stephen King noted, it was the first time a head ever gave head. Re-Animator, which garnered rave reviews from esteemed critics like Pauline Kael and Roger Ebert while also developing a following among the gore hounds, remains Gordon’s most famous work, but the films that followed are as consistently inventive, frightening, and funny as those of any of his peers. Paradoxically, he moved the genre forward by looking back, finding inspiration in the works of H.P. Lovecraft (Re-Animator, From Beyond, Castle Freak, and others) and Poe (The Pit and the Pendulum) but reimagining his sources so completely as to create a new brand of contemporary horror that has proved highly influential in the films of Eli Roth, Edgar Wright, and other young genre directors. (The influence is even more keenly felt in the work of Guillermo del Toro, whose Pacific Rim is unthinkable without Gordon’s example—it’s practically a remake of his Robot Jox.)
It’s fitting that Gordon’s first two pictures, Re-Animator and From Beyond, have been selected to launch the American Cinematheque’s retrospective series “Night of the Living ’80s: A New Wave of Horror.” Gordon will appear with his producer Brian Yuzna on July 30 at the double feature, which will be followed by several weeks of programming devoted to Cohen, Dante, William Lustig and others, all appearing in person at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood. I spoke with Gordon on the eve of the screening, which happens to coincide with the Blu-ray release of Robot Jox.
Paste: Re-Animator was your first film, but you were already an accomplished theater director. Obviously, you had a lot of experience working with actors and blocking and all that, but how did you educate yourself in terms of the things that are specific to film?
Stuart Gordon: I was very lucky that I had an excellent director of photography, Mac Ahlberg, who I used to call the professor because he taught me all the basics in terms of things like screen direction, which I had absolutely no idea about. I would start setting up a shot and he’d say, “This won’t cut with what we just did.” I’d say, “Sure it will, you just glue the two pieces of film together, what’s the problem?” I didn’t really understand it until he explained it to me, but luckily I had a lot of people like that with a lot of experience helping me out.
Paste: At the Organic Theater, you had done all kinds of things, including the world premiere of David Mamet’s Sexual Perversity in Chicago. One might have expected you to make your filmmaking debut with a kind of art-house drama or something, but you chose horror … was that a pragmatic commercial choice, or a creative one, or both?
Gordon: A friend of mine suggested that I do a horror film, explaining that it was the easiest thing to raise money for and the easiest way for investors to get their money back, no matter how terribly it turned out. The board of the Organic Theater was not happy about it—originally I was going to do it with the company and shoot it at the theater, but they did think we should be doing an art film and refused to allow me to do a horror film there.
Paste: What were some of the horror films you admired before you became a horror filmmaker yourself?
Gordon: Of course, with Re-Animator I was thinking a lot about Frankenstein as the inspiration. The whole thing began with a conversation I was having with this woman where I complained that all anyone wanted to make was vampire movies, and I wanted somebody to make a Frankenstein movie. She suggested that I read H.P. Lovecraft’s Herbert West: Re-Animator, which I had never heard of even though I knew Lovecraft pretty well. I had to seek it out—it was no longer in print—and when I read it I started thinking about how to adapt it.
Paste: Didn’t it start out as a TV series or something like that?
Gordon: Yeah, we had turned our play Bleacher Bums into a television show for public television, so I knew the people over there pretty well. I went to them with the idea of doing Herbert West: Re-Animator as a six-part mini-series, but they were just not interested in it. Lovecraft actually wrote it as a serial in six installments, and originally we were going to do it faithfully to those stories, setting it in period and so forth. We tried doing it as half-hour episodes, then an hour, but we couldn’t get it going for television and eventually I got it to [producer] Brian Yuzna, who was looking for something to do at the time. He really liked it, and we decided to turn it into a feature.
Paste: You ended up doing a lot of films over the years with Charles Band, whose company Empire Pictures released Re-Animator. How did that association come about?
Gordon: Brian worked out a deal with them: in exchange for giving them the distribution rights, they provided post-production facilities for the film. They actually became much more involved than that—in fact, it was Charlie Band who insisted that we replace our director of photography with Mac Ahlberg.
Paste: Had you already begun shooting at that point?
Gordon: Oh yeah, we shot a week with the first guy and all the material he shot is in the movie—it’s not like it was unusable. But there was a sequence that the producers thought was too dark, and that’s when they brought Mac in to take over.
Paste: Tell me a little about the casting. Originally I imagine you were going to just use people from the Organic, but when that didn’t work out you cast a lot of people out of Los Angeles who would become consistent members of your stock company, like Jeffrey Combs and Barbara Crampton. I always think of Combs as your Max von Sydow, in the way that Bergman would use von Sydow all the time but sometimes he would be a lead, sometimes he’d be a kind of glorified extra…
Gordon: That’s exactly right, I always do that when I find actors I enjoy working with. Jeffrey was brought in by our casting director Anthony Barnao, who had seen him in a play—as soon as he walked in and started reading, we knew this was the guy, even though in Lovecraft’s story West is described as being a blue-eyed blonde. Barbara Crampton actually came in very late; I had cast a different actress in the part, but she got cold feet because she talked to her mother about it and her mother insisted that she leave the production immediately. Again, Anthony Barnao found Barbara, and she was so much better than the first woman we had—I can’t even remember the other actress’s name now.
Paste: The performances in that movie are uniformly terrific, and it’s a tricky tone—if one person gets the balance between horror and comedy off, the whole movie falls apart. How did you get everybody on the same page so that the acting style—which is somewhat theatrical—remained consistent?
Gordon: We rehearsed for two weeks at Barbara Crampton’s apartment, during which we treated the scenes in order as if it were a play, because I knew that when we started shooting we wouldn’t have time to talk about motivation and things like that. That really got everyone comfortable with each other and the script.