A Little Spooky

Fall is in the air. Football season is underway, and all the kids are back in school. And for me, that means something extra special. We’re gearing up for Halloween.

It’s the MOST WONDERFUL TIME…of the year!”

-Andy Williams

(though I may be quoting him out of context.)

You can’t drive 2 blocks without passing at least one Spirit Halloween store. Home Depot’s main isle is built up with impressive animatronic scenes, ready to assemble for slightly less than a first home down-payment. And my internet feed is blowing up with ads for costumes, candy, and all things scary.

I got to thinking about the good old days (funny how my stories follow this pattern, right?)  My first few costumes were mostly homemade. I was a clown, a hobo, and a couple other “cute” things before I had my first fully store-bought costume.  From the 1950s through the 1970s there were 2 companies that dominated the kids’ Halloween market – Ben Cooper Inc. and Collegeville Costumes. They had a very iconic look; a vinyl smock, a painted, vacuum-formed plastic mask that was held in place with a thin, white rubber band, and a cardboard box with a clear window, proudly displaying the face of the character. Lifting the lid, you were greeted by that unique plastic smell. They were the ones most kids had back then.

The similarities are scary

 

 

 

 

My first of those was Collegeville Costumes’ The Bat.’ It was “Batman inspired” (nudge nudge, wink wink.)  I can only imagine how quickly the “cease and desist” letter would arrive in these current times.  After a brief online search, I found an image. I can get one on Ebay in the original box, starting at about $80 (but it’s probably too small for me now.)

 

A few years later, I recall highly realistic (for the time) full head latex masks that were advertised in Warren magazines like Creepy and Famous Monsters of Filmland. They were really expensive; most could be found in the $50 range, but some were close to $100. They had realistic hair and were a lot like movie masks. They were also way out of my price range. And more importantly, they were WAY beyond what my parents were willing to spend. But that’s OK. Their target audience wasn’t little kids. It was adolescent boys.

From a 1970s issue of Creepy magazine

Around the time I was moving into an adolescence of my own, there was a shift in horror movies as well. The black and white Universal monster movies were gone, and even the Hammer horror stories (known for more blood and gore than its predecessors,) were taking a back seat. Slasher films that were originally low budget grindhouse-type productions were stepping up into the mainstream. Jump scares, by no means a new idea, became the dominate feature of these movies.

John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978) was the first I remember from this new genre. It was followed by the likes of Friday the 13th (1980), and Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). These three films were the basis of what would become a sort of ‘unholy trinity’ of horror franchises; each went on to spawn multiple sequels and a huge assortment of non-movie merchandising.

It is precisely that merchandise that brings me back around to this article (See? Pay attention. I’m circling around to my point.)  All of these movies carried an R rating; “R”, as in “Restricted Audiences.” But the accessories were not just marketed to adults. Around this time, Halloween decorations in general were becoming darker, more violent, and, in my opinion, increasingly inappropriate. They weren’t aimed at adults or teenagers. They were in the toy isles.

Today, if we walk through the neighborhood on Halloween, the spooky but ‘cheerful’ decorations have been largely replaced by brutally horrifying murder scenes or direct portals to Hell.

As much as I can appreciate some of the scarier stuff, I don’t think it should be the norm for an activity that, going back years, has been a magical part of growing up. It inspired spooky imagination. It didn’t terrify little kids and expose them to torture porn or demonic possession; There is no good reason for grade-school children to expect SAW or Sinister at their neighbor’s house.

So, this October, consider moving the adult stuff indoors, for the adults to enjoy. Let’s try to make the front yard a place for spooky mischief and whimsy. For old time’s sake.

“Spooky Scary Skeletons,” written and performed by Andrew Gold (1996,) from the album Halloween Howls: Fun & Scary Music.

 

https://youtu.be/sVjk5nrb_lI?si=aYtTHTkRQ3beupWL

 

-Toph

 

The “Low Art” of Frazetta

It was as an adolescent that I was first exposed to the work of fantasy and sci-fi illustrator Frank Frazetta. In his heyday, he was in a class all his own. His paintings could be found on magazines, paperback novels, album covers, and so many other mediums. He began in the 40s and 50s inking for various comic strips and comic books, though a lot of his early work was uncredited, as he was often filling in for the main artist. From the 60s through the 80s, his cover art was so pervasive that, even if you don’t recognize the name, you’ve probably come across his work somewhere. Any fan of the fantasy characters Conan the Barbarian or Tarzan have seen dozens of examples. Early Warren magazines Creepy, Eerie, Vampirella, and Blazing Combat featured Frazetta as well.

In those days, most commissioned art involved a “once and done” illustration. He was one of the first artists who licensed his work for a specific use but retained the rights to use it again for another project. Work smarter, not harder, right?

 

One of his most easily recognized paintings – “The Barbarian.”

Note the Rubenesque female character at his feet. Many of the women he depicted were curvy and full figured. Also, he tended to leave the background slightly out of focus, but on close examination, it contains subtle thematic images hidden in the blurred periphery.

In college in the mid 80s, I took a drawing class. During a discussion with the professor, we were talking about various artistic style, and I mentioned Frazetta. He quickly (and rather vehemently, I might add) dismissed his work as “throw away,” “crap,” and lacking the qualities of “fine art.” While I agree that most of his work was commissioned for magazines and book covers, it also features very complex use of color and composition that a lot of similarly commissioned illustrations lack. I believe the professor’s comments spoke more to elitist snobbery, and less what constitutes fine art. During a different conversation, he showed a sculpture he had made. He boasted that he created the particular color pattern on the bronze cast by urinating on the metal while it was still warm. Using that comparison, Frazetta was not nearly as avant guard, though I don’t see it as in any way less sophisticated.

I think the most accurate comparison to Frazetta is Norman Rockwell.

Although his subject matter is entirely different, Rockwell’s work was also commissioned for commercial use. Like Frazetta, Rockwell is sometimes dismissed as “just an illustrator.” Had he sold his work to an individual instead of a publication, it would be “high art.” As time has passed, their contributions have found a greater appreciation in the “real art” community.

The Motion Picture Academy Awards don’t only go to the small art house projects. Popular blockbusters also get recognized for quality. Sometimes, the art made for the consumption of the masses is excellent, too.

-Toph