Philip K Dick was born on 16 December 1928.

Dick is one of the most important science fiction writers of the 20th century. I used to be a fan of his. I’m not so much anymore. Now, I’m more interested in his effect on film.

As a writer, he was no stylist. He had some interesting ideas. He wrote interesting and usually engaging stories and novels.

Politically, Dick was a leftist. But had he lived longer, I think he would have turned reactionary right. His work has a shockingly positive view of the police. “The Minority Report” is the most fascist-friendly work of Dick’s I’ve read. Ultimately, I believe his paranoia would have turned him into that special form of American libertarianism that is an easy mark for fascists.

But he didn’t turn because he died at the age of 53. And his later life was tragic as his long-time mental health problems became worse. So I don’t mean to dump on the guy. He was a mess. And that’s sad.

Overall, the films based on his work are better. But they also often flip exactly what he was saying on its head. Let’s look at three biggest films:

• Blade Runner (1982): Based on the novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (1968). Everything is upside down in this. Dick’s novel is more realistic where real animals are expensive and the mechanical ones are what the poor get. Also, Deckard is not a replicant. Making him so is a big problem with the film.
• Total Recall (1990): Based on the short story “We Can Remember It for You Wholesale” (1966). Again, in the film, Quaid is delusional; in the story, Quail is really a secret agent.
• Minority Report (2002): Based on the short story “The Minority Report” (1956). Anderton is set up in both. But in the story, he is set up by someone who wants to destroy Precrime. It ends with Anderton accepting punishment in order to save Precrime — the opposite of the film.

I love all these films! And they never would have been made without Philip K Dick. So to celebrate his birthday, let’s watch Minority Report, which I think does the most to improve upon the original. (Lois Smith is absolutely fabulous here!)

Philip K Dick via Wikimedia. It is in the public domain.

20th Century Fox released Young Frankenstein on 15 December 1974.

It is the only Mel Brooks film that works completely. His script for The Producers was fantastic. But his direction of it (despite many people trying to help him) was pathetic. It’s still funny. But it’s also hard to watch.

Blazing Saddles has its moments. I’m very fond of the parts that involve Cleavon Little. But so much of it is just embarrassing. And the ending is terrible. Then there were Silent Film and High Anxiety, the first signs that Brooks had given up trying to do anything good. Everything after that is unwatchable. (I will give him credit for at least trying in Life Stinks.)

But let’s talk about Young Frankenstein. The direction is fine. There are annoying parts — like the quick zooms. But Brooks had clearly learned a lot since the disaster that was The Producers. Better was the production. But it is the script and the cast that really make it work.

The idea was Gene Wilder’s. Toward the end of his life, he was going everywhere telling a story about the writing of it:

I would write all day. And he would come over after dinner. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We need a villain. The Bürgermeister isn’t a good enough villain. We need a real villain.” And one night he comes over and looks at the pages and says, “You tap dance to Irving Berlin? In top hat and tails with the monster? Are you crazy? It’s frivolous.” And I started to argue and I argued for about 20 minutes til I was at least red in the face. I think it may have been blue. And all of a sudden, he says “Okay, it’s in!” And I said, “Why did you put me through this?” And he said, “Because I wasn’t sure if it was right or not. And if you didn’t argue for it, I knew it was wrong.”

When I first heard this, I thought Wilder was suffering from Stockholm syndrome. But over time, I realized what he was doing. He was laying claim to the best thing in the film. He knew if he left it, Brooks would eventually take credit for it. So he pretends that Brooks had some brilliant way of sniffing out comedy. Fine. Throw the man a bone. At least Wilder gets credit.

But note that Brooks was not doing that! Brooks was jealous. And he would rather harm the film than admit that. But given the level of Wilder’s pushback, Brooks relented.

Listen to Mel Brooks himself talk about the writing. Basically: nothing. Note that he talks about the “nights” of writing. But it’s clear from what Wilder said that Brooks wasn’t there during the days when the writing was actually done. In other words, Brooks was overseeing the writing. Most directors would not take screenplay credit. But Brooks did because he’s a narcissist. (Note that Brooks and Wilder never worked together again — remarkable after doing such a hugely successful film.)

Brooks did much the same thing to Andrew Bergman on Blazing Saddles. Check out this hilariously small text for story credit:

There are clearly things in the film that Brooks wrote. “Walk this way…” is a joke that has never aged in almost a century of him repeating it. “Call it a hunch!” is another Brooks winner that would have killed in the Catskills! I’m sure Brooks took the final script and punched it up with a lot of old jokes. But it still works.

I dread next June when Brooks will turn 100 and I will have to see the world gush about how great he is and how hilarious Spaceballs and Robin Hood: Men in Tights are. I’m not saying he’s terrible. But he’s the Alfred Hitchcock of comedy. He’s done some good work. But he ain’t the genius people assume he is.

But let’s watch his one unquestionably great film, Young Frankenstein.

Young Frankenstein (1974) poster via Wikipedia under Fair Use.

Ted Raimi was born on 14 December 1965. So he’s 60 years old today. Little brother is all grown up!

I have a soft spot for the man for a reason that has nothing to do with his work. His older brother Sam has bragged about mistreating him during the making of early films. And I know about this. It is typical of “man culture.” And it’s nonsense. I hope Sam eventually grew up. But even if he didn’t, I’m used to admiring films made by awful people.

But back to Ted.

Most of my friends love Ted Raimi. But they also think he is a bad actor. He’s not. He’s a fine actor. But he has no sense of shame. He’ll do anything. And if you are a psychotronic fan, you have to love that.

And don’t be surprised if over the next ten years or so, he gets a “serious” role that garners him an Academy Award nomination. Think Peter Fonda in Ulee’s Gold. If you watch Raimi in things like The Midnight Meat Train and the TV series SeaQuest DSV you see a bit of what he can do in serious roles. Even early in his career, he was great in Skinner.

So I don’t want to hear anymore about Ted Raiming being a weak actor!

Having said that, I most love him in his over-the-top comedic roles. One of my favorite films (With no caveats!) is Man with the Screaming Brain. And Ted is the best thing in it. Yes! Even better than Bruce Campbell’s milk scene!

But to celebrate Ted Raimi’s big six-oh, let’s watch My Name Is Bruce. In it, he plays three characters. First, he’s Mills Toddner, Bruce’s incompetent and unethical agent. He also plays Ted the Sign Painter, an offensive Italian stereotype. And finally, he plays Wing, an offensive Chinese stereotype. But somehow the offensive stereotypes aren’t because he brings a lot of humanity to them.

Ted Raimi by GabboT under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Dick Van Dyke is 100 years old today. And the midwestern actor seems to be doing well. He might well outlive Kirk Douglas, who died at 103. Or even Norman Lloyd, who died at 106.

People don’t associate him with psychotronic film. After all, he’s the friendly man who played Rob Petrie on that show that is ridiculously titled The Dick Van Dyke Show. (And yes, I think the same of The Mary Tyler Moore Show — even though Mary Richards at least shares a first name!)

But Van Dyke played a much broader set of roles than most people think. I remember this upset me as a child. I didn’t like seeing him play a murderer on Columbo (even though he was somewhat sympathetic).

Let us not forget: films like Mary Poppins are psychotronic. You see boys and girls, there was a time when films like that were thought to be made for children. It wasn’t the kind of stuff adults went to see alone. Admittedly, the big budget did make the critics swoon. But people did look down on adult viewers who took it seriously.

Van Dyke did perform in some edgier films. In The Comic (1969), he plays a narcissistic silent film comedian whose life slowly falls apart. In The Runner Stumbles (1979), he plays a Catholic priest who has an affair with a nun, who ends up murdered with him looking guilty.

He was also in a number of generally strange films. These include The Art of Love (1965), Lt Robin Crusoe, USN (1966), and Cold Turkey (1971).

But today, we celebrate Dick Van Dyke’s 100th birthday by watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. As a child, both The Last Man on Earth and Jaws gave me nightmares for years. But neither were as disturbing while watching as this supposed kids’ film. I hope it doesn’t disturb you too much!

Dick Van Dyke via Wikimedia. It is in the public domain.

Gordon Hessler was born on 12 December 1925 in Berlin, Germany. Lucky for him, he grew up in England. He lived there most of his life.

He was a notable director in both film and television. But we are most interested in his work for American International Pictures.

Hessler started his career as a story reader for Alfred Hitchcock Presents. He leveraged this to get his first directing job for the episode “Final Arrangements.” It starred Martin Balsam and Vivian Nathan. He was associate producer when the show morphed into The Alfred Hitchcock Hour. After this, he directed two feature films and produced some TV.

He got a big break with AIP in early 1969. Michael Reeves was in pre-production for The Oblong Box. But he died from an accidental overdose of barbiturates. So AIP hired Gordon Hessler to direct and produce the film.

Hessler went on to direct three more AIP films: Scream and Scream Again, Cry of the Banshee, and Murders in the Rue Morgue. He then bounced around a bit. This culminated in his biggest film, The Golden Voyage of Sinbad. It is a thankless job to direct a Ray Harryhausen film. But Hessler did a great job — showing off his usual distinct visual style.

He could have continued to direct theatrical releases. But he chose to go back into TV. He directed numerous TV movies as well as episodes of iconic TV series like Kolchak: The Night Stalker, Kung Fu, Hawaii Five-O, Wonder Woman, and CHiPs.

Let’s celebrate Gordon Hessler’s 100th birthday by watching his most psychotronic film, The Golden Voyage of Sinbad.

Gordon Hessler via Mémoires de Guerre via Fair Use.

The Curse of the Aztec Mummy was first released (in Mexico) on 11 December 1957. It is the second of the Aztec Mummy trilogy. And it is also the most loopy. As such, it is arguably the best of the three — although you can definitely argue the first is better.

Let’s get straight on the series. Cinematografica Calderon SA released all three films over a period of 9 months. For a long time, people were confused about these releases. For example, Michael Weldon thought the second was third. So here are the release dates (in Mexico):

• La Momia Azteca (The Aztec Mummy) — 13 November 1957
• La Maldición de la Momia Azteca (The Curse of the Aztec Mummy) — 11 December 1957
• La Momia Azteca Contra el Robot Humano (The Robot vs the Aztec Mummy) — 17 July 1958

Producer Guillermo Calderon shot the three films back-to-back. It’s clear that he worried that this might create three very similar films. So he made the first film standard horror, the second film a Luchador (kind of setting up El Santo’s film career), and the final film science fiction.

But I find the inclusion of the masked superhero The Angel very strange. In the second film, Dr Almada’s soft-spoken assistant Pinacate is The Angel. And then, in the third film, he’s just Pinacate again. What’s with that?! It’s very disappointing to me. The Angel is my favorite thing in all the films!

Regardless, the films are more like a serial than anything. This includes heavy reuse of material from the previous film(s).

The Aztec Mummy films are a bit of a problem for English-speaking audiences. This is because Jerry Warren combined the original film with new material he shot to create Attack of the Mayan Mummy. He did the same thing with the later La Marca del Muerto. As far as I know, there is no English-language version of The Aztec Mummy. I’ve only watched it in Spanish.

K Gordon Murray is responsible for the English-language versions of the other two films. But he did not make major edits or add new material. And this is why they are better known to English-speaking audiences than the original.

Let’s celebrate this day by watching The Curse of the Aztec Mummy!

The Curse of the Aztec Mummy poster via Wikipedia under Fair Use.

Anne Gwynne was born on 10 December 1918.

She was the grandmother of Chris Pine. And so she was the mother-in-law of Robert Pine. I mention this only to point out that Hollywood is a meritocracy without a hint of nepotism!

Anne Gwynne is one of the original scream queens. But it isn’t like today. The great Brinke Stevens has starred in over a hundred horror films. Hell, she’s been in at least 5 horror films this year! The classic scream queens like Gwynne and Fay Wray starred in just a handful. But Norma Desmond had it right. They were big. “It’s the pictures that got small.”

Gwynne doesn’t look like she should be a scream queen. She’s way better looking than necessary! And during World War II, she was a popular pin-up model.

But her reputation is based mostly on her roles in early 1940s Universal horror films:

• Black Friday (1940)
• The Black Cat (1941)
• The Strange Case of Doctor Rx (1942)
• Weird Woman (1944)
• House of Frankenstein (1944)

Psychotronic fans may remember her in the Universal serial Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe (1940). She plays the evil Lady Sonja.

Outside of these five films, Gwynne performed in little horror. Dick Tracy Meets Gruesome (1947) is often mentioned but it isn’t really horror despite it starring Boris Karloff.. Her only true horror film after House of Frankenstein was Teenage Monster (1957). She also happens to be the lead in it. She plays a mother who tries to protect her son after he turns into a beast from a meteorite. She does scream in it!

So let’s celebrate Anne Gwynne’s birthday by watching this surprisingly good horror cheapy!

Anne Gwynne via Wikimedia. It is in the public domain.

Margaret Hamilton was born on 9 December 1902. She is best known for… Okay, you know!

I just learned that Hamilton was a school teacher before she became an actor. That fits so well! And she advocated for public schools and animal rights her whole life.

She married an abusive man and that marriage broke up after 7 years. She never married again, probably because she realized she was a lesbian. But like most LGBT actors of that time, she didn’t discuss it publicly. It was well known in the industry, however.

Hamilton worked a lot — starting in the theater and continuing late in her life. She made her screen debut in an uncredited role in the Loretta Young vehicle Zoo in Budapest.

From there, she worked as a character actor. She appeared in multiple films every year from 1933 through 1943. And she continued much the same through 1950. At that point, she transitioned to TV. The only feature films she made were 13 Ghosts, Paradise Alley, The Daydreamer, Rosie!, Angel in My Pocket, Brewster McCloud, and The Anderson Tapes.

She played Granny Frump in three episodes of The Addams Family. And there is my favorite. She plays an academic in The Night Strangler where she says, “If it were possible, I’d be sitting here an 80-year-old sexpot!” She was actually only 71 at the time. But she was sexy!

Margaret Hamilton is, of course, the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. Despite how iconic the role was, it didn’t define her career. In fact, she played against it. She often played roles where she appeared to be bad but turned out to be good.

If you watch nothing else, check her out on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. She was there to show children that acting was just pretend and that she was actually a very nice lady, even when playing the witch.

Margaret Hamilton via Wikimedia. It is in the public domain.

Richard Fleischer was born on 8 December 1916 in Brooklyn, New York. He was the son of animator Max Fleischer, who invented the rotoscope and created Betty Boop. I could go on and on about him, but it isn’t his birthday. Father and son are both icons of psychotronic film.

Why is Richard a psychotronic icon? He certainly wasn’t as important as his father. Instead, he was a studio director. He is most notable in this regard because he was highly successful for decades. He directed a lot of genre films, which may explain his success.

Fleischer served a short time in the Army Pictorial Service during World War II. After leaving, he went to work for RKO, where he worked mostly on documentaries. This eventually led to Design for Death. The Academy gave the film the Best Documentary (Feature) award in 1948.

But Fleischer directed his first feature in 1946. Child of Divorce was a drama starring Sharyn Moffett, which did very well at the box office. From there, he directed films of various genres. Early ones included the musical Make Mine Laughs and many film noir like his first, Bodyguard.

In 1954, Fleischer made the big time when Walt Disney hired him to direct 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. It is probably his best-known film. I remember watching it in the theater as a child, despite its original release date being a decade before my birth. I was thrilled by the scene where Kirk Douglas eats with a knife.

After this, Richard Fleischer worked frequently with 20th Century Fox. In the early 1960s, he directed two films in Europe for Darryl Zanuck. On his return to Hollywood, Richard Zanuck (now head of Fox) gave him Fantastic Voyage. He followed it with Doctor Dolittle, The Boston Strangler, and Tora! Tora! Tora!

During the 1970s, Fleischer made a number of other notable psychotronic films: See No Evil, The Last Run, 10 Rillington Place, and Soylent Green. In the 1980s, he made a number of big-budget films: The Jazz Singer, Conan the Destroyer, and Red Sonja.

Let’s celebrate Richard Fleischer’s birthday by watching 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Like most of his work, it holds up remarkably well.

Richard Fleischer via Wikimedia. It is in the public domain.

Leigh Brackett was born on 7 December 1915.

If you’ve heard of her, it is probably because she co-wrote The Empire Strikes Back. But she did so much more.

She started writing for science fiction magazines in 1940. She went on to write quite a lot of crime and western pulp fiction. And starting in 1944, she wrote novels. She was best known for interplanetary romances. This is how she earned the moniker as The Queen of Space Opera.

Her first novel, No Good from a Corpse, provided her an entry into Hollywood. Apparently, Howard Hawks loved the novel and reached out. He thought she was a man and often noted that she wrote like a man. (Whatever that means!)

She co-wrote five films for Hawks: The Big Sleep, Rio Bravo, Hatari!, El Dorado, and Rio Lobo. Additionally, she wrote screenplays for The Unholy Four (directed by Hammer regular Terence Fisher) and Crime Doctor’s Man Hunt (directed by William Castle during his studio period). And she wrote some TV, including two episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour.

George Lucas hired Brackett to write the first draft of The Empire Strikes Back based on his story. Fans have spent the last 4+ decades arguing that Lucas hated her script and threw it all out. This is almost certainly not the case. It rather shows a complete lack of understanding of how collaborative art works. This comes from the natural but unfortunate tendency to want to give all the credit to a single man.

She died of cancer shortly after finishing her draft of the screenplay. She was primarily a science fiction writer. But this was the first time she wrote a science fiction screenplay. So it was a fitting end to her career.

So let’s celebrate Leigh Brackett’s birthday by watching Crime Doctor’s Man Hunt. It’s one of the few films that she gets sole screenwriting credit. And it’s a good opportunity to see what William Castle (who directed 4 of the 10 Crime Doctor films) was doing before he became the wacky producer we all know and love.

Leigh Brackett via Picryl. It is in the public domain.