Killer Chiller Theatre thriller

>> Rabid geeks!I Spit on Your Grave! David Soul charging $20 to have his photo taken! An insider's overview of New Jersey's legendary Chiller Theatre Convention

by MITCH DAVIS

American horror/fantasy conventions are strange places indeed. Their lineage can be traced back to the much-ridiculed Star Trek conventions of the '70s, and even further to the Fantasy Authors' Conventions of the late '50s. The '90s saw the rise of Kevin Clement's New Jersey-based Chiller Theatre--a biannual weekend blowout of retro horror, sci-fi, exploitation and rock that's equal parts awkwardness and inspiration.

The meat of the Chiller conventions are anchored by an increasingly bizarre assortment of cult movie legends, TV has-beens, direct-to-video scream queens, greying rock stars, famous authors, gifted illustrators, arthritic wrestlers and 90-year-old former Playmates.

In the past, Chiller has been home to an oddball variety of guests, including Kevin McCarthy (Invasion of the Body Snatchers), Wrestler-actor Ox Baker (Escape From New York), Tom Savini (Dawn of the Dead), Ingrid Pitt (Vampire Lovers), cult director Ken Russell, Prince of Puke John Waters, Candy Clark (The Man Who Fell to Earth), Robert Vaughn (The Man From U.N.C.L.E.), H.G. Lewis (Blood Feast), Joe D'amato (Emanuelle in America), '80s porn goddess Ginger Lynn, B-mogul Roger Corman, Zoe Tamerliss (Ms. 45), among many others. Joey and Johnny Ramone are regular Chiller goers, as are Johnny Legend, Rob Zombie and the Misfits.

Releasing the inner geek

Besides the stars, Chiller boasts several gargantuan dealer's rooms, where you can find every genre-related fix that you've ever hoped to juice your neurons with. Saturday nights feature huge parties, complete with costume contests and a mixture of vintage rock legends and micro-label punk indies jamming onstage to an audience of devoted horror maniacs. I knew I was in the right place the first time I went, when I spotted a bunch of crazies slam dancing in Santo masks!

Believe me, if you've got it in your blood, Chiller will bring out the geek in you and that's a mighty cool thing. Sound like a blast? It mostly is, but there's an insidious and mercenary dark side spreading through the event. It all began a few years back, when celebs began asking for $5 to sign whatever mana was thrown in front of them. Fans were puzzled and some were flat out offended, but most shrugged it off, figuring that this was the only means for their fallen idols to get by and they went along with it and forked up. The stars began handling their signatures as a surreal new form of currency. Those who had until then refused to charge fans were now being made to feel like fools, with their agents and friends telling them that they're being ripped off.

I regularly travel up to Chiller with fellow Fantasia fiends Pierre Corbeil, André Dubois and André Rivard, but due to a particularly mind-searing local project, I had to skip out on the last trip. Heading back to New Jersey a few months ago was a depressing homecoming. Now, just about every guest in the house asks $20 per signature and to make matters worse, many have their agents sitting by their side, salivating to keep their meal tickets in line.

Just the same, the crowds were massive. Who wants to meet Kellie Maroney, former teen star of Night of the Comets and Chopping Mall? Seems that fucking everyone does. From the other end of the venue, I was able to see David Naughton, star of American Werewolf in London and yes, Hot Dog: the Movie. The guy looked almost exactly the same as he had 18 years ago only--weirdly enough--his head seemed to have grown disproportionately to his body. I'm not saying that he has an ego, or that he's gotten fat or anything, just literally, that his head is now bigger, like those awkward "little big-head" action figures. He looked uncomfortable as kids walked up and down the floor, eyeing him curiously.

Starsky and Hutch's David Soul was there and his corner was notable for the fact that there was a big sign, announcing that you couldn't take his photograph unless you paid him $20. That's right--your camera, your film, your processing, 20 U.S. bucks. The sign also made a point of letting you know that the Salem's Lot/Starsky and Hutch star is in fact, an "actor/recording artist." I wonder how much he would charge to let us watch him beat his wife?

The sound of Jaws

Richard Kiel (Jaws from The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker) had a booth too, and incredibly, not only was he asking $20 for an autograph, he was set up to take Visa payments! After speaking a bit, I asked him if he'd be down with an interview, and he was all for it. His manager overheard this, and leapt into action, informing me that I couldn't use my recorder if we did an interview. "You can't record his voice!" he said.

Keep in mind that this is an actor famous mostly for non-speaking roles. What did they think I would do with the recording, cut an AT&T commercial?! Grizzled at the thought of tearing words into paper at the speed of light, I opted out, but left with a single question: "Name the first things that come to your mind when someone brings up Montreal." The answer: "European, French, beautiful, Midas Muffler!"

Every hour, Chiller has a panel of guests share a microphone for a Q&A session with fans. Their flagship bill was a Lost in Space cast reunion, but the only one I had the chance to see was the one that mattered most: Camille Keaton, Celeste Yarnell and Brinke Stevens (I Spit on Your Grave). While I've always had mixed feelings about I Spit on Your Grave, I hold a strong admiration for its power as a feminist exploitation film. If there was anyone I wanted to hear speak, it was Keaton, the film's star, who had by all accounts gone through total hell during the shoot. Unfortunately, the crowd in attendance seemed to be there almost exclusively for the other two actresses, who were clearly out of their league the second Keaton began discussing the film's brutal bathtub castration.

"It was scary," she recalled. "I had to pull the blade up in a swift, sharp movement, and we had no real safety precautions. I was blocking, holding my hand over his--" Almost immediately, a pencil-headed yogurt fuck yelped in wounded protest: "Uhh, could we change the subject PLEASE?!" Tragically, the surprisingly shy actress stopped dead in her tracks, giggled for a second, then passed the microphone to her co-panelists. Jaysus!

Yarnell spoke at length about her involvement in animal activism, but the crowd wasn't biting. The Velvet Vampire/Beast of Blood star then jumped back into Chiller mode and announced that she'd been up for the Carol Lynely role in The Poseidon Adventure, which got a much stronger response. Stevens talked about Slumber Party Massacre, but I guess it wasn't her fault.

Down the hall, Misfits heroes Jerry Only and Doyle were selling action figures of themselves. And I bought one of them! Who da geek?

Film geeks unite

If I haven't already convinced you of how much fun these events are, consider these other choice occurrences: a live concert by former Alice Cooper bandmates with vocals by Blue Oyster singer Joe Bouchard, looking like Bob Vila as he slammed out a series of Cooper/BOC tunes to the mostly baffled crowd. An appearance by El Hijo Del Santo (Santo's son!). A table of 70-year-old former Playmates whose only accomplishments were having once been beautiful and consequently had absolutely nothing to talk about! A guy dressed like Halloween's Michael Myers nervously following a paramedic around after his buddy overdosed!

Like the best energy-driven events, the real party was in the proverbial parking lot. If anything, Chiller's strongest groove these days is that it serves as a focal point in which the communal energy of genre maniacs across the world can concentrate into one hugely creative Hot Zone. Hundreds of like-minded lunatics filter in from every corner of the globe and I spent a good portion of the last show just hanging out with an ever-growing number of convention friends at the hotel bar. Several writing contracts I've had originated at Chiller. I even scored my first stalker at one of the shows, a freaky young girl who called me for months afterwards and sent me no shortage of scary faxes. Cool!

Who cares if Linda Blair is asking people for full sets of their molar teeth in exchange for autographing a banana peel? Chiller is a genre blitzkrieg of the highest order, and every damn geek in the world owes it to themselves to go the distance at least once. :

Mitch Davis is a Filmmaker and programmer at the Cinéma du Parc and Montreal's Fantasia film festival