Pumpkin Spice Time

Since I have a late October birthday, I’ve always had great affection for Halloween. It was always an evening of fun  and candy for American kids, but these days it seems to have much expanded, and drawn in a great many more people of all ages.

In the U.S., Halloween hijinks generally involve things that go bump in the night. We’re expected to enjoy being a little bit scared, sometimes by visiting elaborate pumpkin patches, sometimes by tuning into scary movies like Halloween (of course), Nightmare on Elm Street, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Each year seems to bring a new crop of cinematic scare-stories. But, as a new exhibit at the Academy Museum points out, horror is not exactly a recent movie phenomenon. Universal Studios, for one, made its name back in the 1930s by introducing eerie horror films like Frankenstein and Dracula (both 1931). Even earlier, German Expressionists launched disturbing silent films like 1922’s Nosferatu.

One small hint of the long-range attraction of horror is the continuing survival of the Michael Jackson’s Thriller music video. Though it was introduced in 1983, it is still very much alive almost 50 years later. For anyone who’s been living under a rock for the past few decades, here’s a brief summary.  We begin in what looks like the 1950s, as Jackson and a pony-tailed cutie (Ola Ray) drive home from a date. He runs out of gas,  and they’re forced to get out and walk through a spooky forest. Suddenly she discovers he’s turning into what one source calls a “werecat,” with eerie eyes—and he seems determined to pursue her. Cut to a contemporary (by 1983 standards) movie theatre. The two are now modern kids watching the ghoulish film, But she’s frightened and wants to leave, and he’s chivalrous enough to accompany her home. That’s when ghouls and ghosts suddenly appear, and he becomes one of them, shimmying to a creepy ditty set against the voice of Vincent Price. So we’re in a reality vs. fantasy world, and Michael’s unfortunate date is terrified by the dark possibilities ahead.

What’s amazing to me is how that ghoulish dance number has endured. A member of my family has been practicing a slightly toned-down version of it, the better to join with a lot of costumed would-be ghouls who’ll perform together Saturday night under California’s Manhattan Beach pier. From what I’ve heard, a really large performance of the number shows up annually in New York’s Times Square, with all comers welcome. On a much lower level, some distinctive moves from the routine made their appearance today at my weekly gym class, led by an instructor decked out for the occasion in a pink poodle skirt, frilly bobby socks, and pearls.

Halloween is of course also the time to remember our dead. So let me take this moment to hail two of Hollywood’s finest. Sir Patrick Stewart of Star Trek: The Next Generation fame passed away this week at the ripe old age of 86. But I was personally more shaken by the demise of 93-year-old Tom Skerritt. Most fans will remember him from his award-winning role on TV’s Picket Fences, or from one of his many big films (like 1979’s Alien). But I worked with Tom on Roger Corman’s Big Bad Mama (1974), on which he vied with William Shatner to romance (sans clothes) a sexy Angie Dickinson. There was not much dignity to the role, but Tom told me how his brand-new agent was prepping him for better things. I guess it worked. A Halloween farewell to both men.