Icons of Cult Vol. II: Christopher Lee -- A Face, A Voice, A World Apart

   I hadn't thought of him in a while, the last time I had it was considering what to get out of the discount DVD bin. Godzilla double-feature or Hammer vampire essential? Decisions, decisions. In the end I'd chosen Horror of Dracula because I felt it would add more variety to my collection (I own nine Godzilla films already, the rest could) and because I had noted that my stock of DVDs was lacking a certain actor.

   I'm very glad I made that decision now.

   The other morning, I came down the stairs semi-ready for school and dreading a looming Physics final that had the potential to make or break my year's grades, when my mother gave me a sentence worth of information from the morning's headlines: "Annie, Christopher Lee died.". 

   Physics went to the back burner.  

   "What?" I asked, perhaps I'd misheard. 

   "Christopher Lee died. They just announced it." 

   I stopped in my tracks and took a moment to process the information. All at once, my mind was a flood of memories. 

   I was again sitting captivated at age five with him heralding the epic rally of evil before the battle of Helm's Deep in The Twin Towers.

   I was being mesmerized and terrified by his prowess and seductive nature as the lord of the undead as his red eyes claimed the will of a young girl.

   The feeling of being pleasantly surprised to hear his familiar rumble from the throat of the Jabberwocky made my heart drop into a deep pit.

   Thunderstruck by these fond moments, I realized that tears were streaming down my face.

   Sir Christopher Lee, who shared his talent with countless millions of people throughout his multitude of appearance throughout film, stage, and television, has died at age 93.
   I don't want to spend this article going through his life for two reasons; firstly, his career and personal life is so vast that I would have to spend hours upon hours just giving you the bare-bones breakdown, and secondly, there are countless other, more professional tribute articles relaying this information. I am but a humble teenager, not an historian by any means, and fear that I may give an inaccurate description.
   But I still wanted to write an article for Lee because I feel that this is a rather large milestone in the history of film; with his death, he cuts a link from an era that will one day be just a collections of images that will be a never-ending mystery. Like a portrait of a long-dead monarch, his legacy will become a hearsay of what he was like when he was alive, but no one will ever truly have the correct answer because no one will be living who knew him in the flesh.
   Time is a wily one sometimes.
   The strangest thing about Lee's passing, while extremely sad, is that it seems to have taken one of two routes: shock or rally.
   Christopher Lee lived a very long life, and to be honest, I and many other people were shocked to hear that he had actually died. He had become an immortal presence in films that we thought could never end. 
   The other side of the coin would be the rallying of the media; for many older celebrities, their media obituaries are primed and polished just in case of their sudden death and are added to every five years or so to keep them fresh. From what I gathered, many media outlets have had Lee's prepared for a long time, because they were all posted within rapid succession of the announcement being made public. Though this is common play in the world of reporting, I feel that somehow it makes his passing a bit less personal.
   So here I am jumping on the band wagon.
   I think the biggest reason why I feel so grieved by Lee's death is simply because he was a face that generations upon generations of film goers could recognize. In presence, voice, and tendency to just be amazing, Christopher Lee has become an idol for giving everything he touched a "performance of a lifetime" status. 
   His level of mastery will be sorely missed, but perhaps it is selfish of us to claim him as ours forever. Lee has left behind a great number of things to be proud of aside from his film characters: being a father, being married for over fifty years, having countless honors for charity work, being knighted, and being blessed with such a long, eventful life.
   After sharing such a large part of his time in this world creating characters that helped us escape from the struggles of our own lives, it's only due process that he now receive rest in the cradle of eternity for what seemed an endless age of impressive artistry.
   We will miss him.
   I have been watching him since I was five-years-old and have grown up with him being a cornerstone of the genres of films I love the most, and his passing is a marker that childhood is behind me. There will never again be a new character that Christopher Lee will animate with his unrepeatable style, and that as a fan, calls for a few tears to be shed.
   But he will never be forgotten. He is etched into the fabric of time in ways that will never crumble. Perhaps this is how, ironically, he will become immortal, as an icon for all time for a life spent engaging audiences in a way that others could only envy.
   Whether this is the way that existing forever is achieved for the living world or not, Lee is still off somewhere inspiring creativity in a world that we cannot comprehend because it is not a place for us at this time. We may join him someday, but we will never truly know, for like the Gray Havens, it is a one-way boat.
   After stars go out in the heavens, they still exist, their molecules becoming heavier as they become different elements, becoming a new form that we cannot see because we were given mortal eyes at our birth. But we know that something still remains after a spot in the sky goes dark, and it is left to our imagination what new flame is kindled in a galaxy far, far away.
   Rest in peace Christopher Lee, you will be missed here, but you are needed more wherever you are now.

Icons of Cult Vol. I: Robert Englund -- An Example of Dedication

  When I was thirteen-years-old, I couldn't go to sleep one Saturday night because of a horror movie I'd watched.

I tossed and turned all night long, unable to find rest due to the images flashes through my mind: evil smirk, grisly burned face, tipped hat to hide glowing cat-like eyes, and a voice that echoed undisturbed through my conscious mind. The phrase "Don't, fall, asleep." kept circulating as well, making me force my closed eyes to open every so often to ward off any slumber. I rolled over and stared up at my white stubble ceiling, I felt a shiver of fear; I could see the man in a pale silhouette on the painted surface, reaching down with his claws to touch me.

I sat up, shaking my head with my heart racing. The shape I'd seen had vanished, and now only the familiar shadows of my bedroom were there.

Feeling embarrassed at myself for being so startled at nothing, I laid down again, burrowing under the covers like a frightened child, attempting to shield myself from the irrational fear I'd contracted from the screen. 

I was too old for this, I knew that monsters from movies weren't real. 

But it didn't matter what I told myself, my imagination had a different rational.

I was afraid of him.

I dared not dream. He might be waiting for me.

   Before I became such a horror junkie, I was terrified of anything made after 1965. I had a problem with blood and malicious dialogue, so I had never seen Jaws, Night of the Living Dead, or The Exorcist because of my squeamishness toward more "grown-up" films. I was still into horror though, but this mostly consisted of Gothic classics with guys in capes and prehistorical reptiles destroying major cities (all good stuff in its own right). During James' Rolfe's Cinemassacre's Monster Madness during October which I loved, I couldn't go past the sixties, because that was my limit with horror.

   But then at age thirteen, as with many other things, suddenly everything kicked up a notch.

   Over my holiday break, I awoke in the wee-hours of the morning and went to go play some video games, but upon turning on the TV, I saw the ending of a movie. A girl was desperately trying to escape a man with a horribly burned face and a glove with knives for fingers, but no matter how hard she ran, he manipulated the environment and tormented her further, taking pleasure in her terror. As it turned out, the girl was asleep and what I was seeing was her dream. Still afraid of anything post-65, I quickly flipped the channel before I could see anymore, but I had caught the title: A Nightmare on Elm Street.

Englund as Freddy Krueger

   I'd heard of this movie before, and I knew that this the film I'd just seen a snip-it of was not the original (yes I technically saw the 2010 remake first, go ahead and stone me if you wish) and later that day sought out more information via the internet. I read about the original series and I was hooked: crazy dream world antics, kick-ass strong teenage female leads, and of course a demented, sultry, wise-cracking villain.

   Throughout my reading, a name stuck out; Robert Englund, "the only real Freddy Krueger" as many fans described him. After watching the first film and being scared out of my mind due to breaking my temperance of no gore (which ended promptly after), I thought he must be the creepiest guy in the world.
   But upon further internet research, I discovered quite the opposite.
   What I saw throughout the written and visual interviews with him was a kind, patient, and extremely enthusiastic man who loved his fans. He didn't act like his good fortune was pure destiny, but rather that it was all a happy accident as many things are in life.
   Robert Barton Englund was born and raised in the Hollywood area of California where he took an interest in acting from a young age, and ultimately studied it throughout his college career which included UCLA and the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London, England (no pun intended).
  His acting career began with a series of low-budget films such as

From Eaten Alive (1977)

Buster and Billie and Sunburst throughout most of the 1970's and got his first leading role in Tobe Hooper's Eaten Alive in 1977. Englund also has been a surfer his whole life, a passion which he got to portray in the film Big Wednesday. He also auditioned for Han Solo for the original Star Wars and encouraged Mark Hamill to look into the project (so yes, you can thank Freddy Krueger for giving you Luke Skywalker). His breakthrough however came with the NBC miniseries V in which Englund portrayed the friendly alien Willie. Still during his time with V in 1984, he portrayed the fictitious serial killer Freddy Krueger for the first time in the original A Nightmare on Elm Street. 
   This sadistic character from the mind of Wes Craven was a child murder who was burned alive by the angry parents and now haunted their teenage children in their dreams, tormenting them before ultimately killing them. Freddy was unlike any of the other slashers on scene in the 1980's; instead of being hidden behind a man-made mask and a silent brute, Mr. Krueger had a face of charred skin and was more than proficient in his speech. 

On set of the original Nightmare

   Craven originally was looking for a stuntman to portray the murderer, but found that older men couldn't get into the character properly. He had his doubts about Englund when he walked in for the audition, but he won him over with his analysis and enthusiasm of the character and the rest is history.

   A Nightmare on Elm Street was an instant classic and Robert Englund would star as the dream stalker in six sequels, a meta-film about those who made the original film and an actual demon taking on the form of Krueger to terrorize the real world, and a crossover battle of the century with Jason Vorhees from the Friday the 13th slasher franchise.
   But now that the slasher genre has been bled out (pun intended) for mainstream audiences and many younger viewers refuse to watch films that predate 1995 or so, what has become of Englund?
   Well, he's never stopped working. In his autobiography Englund discussed his feelings towards his career:

"As for me, I'm still a working stiff and will likely be one until the day I die. Most of my work will probably be in the world of horror, and I have no problem with that.........If you wish to typecast me as a genre actor, so be it. Stumbling into this world was a happy accident that gave me a wonderful career." - Robert Englund, from his book Hollywood Monster

Englund in Fear Clinic

   Robert Englund has become a modern-day Boris Karloff, a representative of the horror genre who has become an ambassador for what goes bump in the night, and is damn proud of it. In addition to meeting countless fans every year and signing god knows how many autographs, he has starred in several modern cult flicks such as Hatchet and Strippers Vs. Werewolves and has crossed into the new age of motion picture technology in the web-series Fear Clinic. He often is a part of panels for various conventions and interviews, always happy to answer the same questions over and over again. His genuine gratitude towards his fans who have given him his career is evident in every book, photo, and tattoo he signs with a smile.
   If you still doubt his sincerity, here is a story from Hollywood Nightmare from his friend and collaborator Wes Craven:

"Once a psychiatrist wrote me. He had a young patient who had heard of Freddy Krueger and was having nightmares about him. I really wanted to help, so I got in touch with Robert and asked if he would say a few words to the kid into a vidcam. Not only did Robert do that, but he did it while he was being put into, then out of, his Freddy makeup, describing each step of the way how Freddy was nothing more than latex and glue and nothing to be worried about. Shortly after I mailed the tape to the doctor, I received a letter in return. The youngster was not only cured, he wanted to watch a Freddy movie!"

   After having to be taken in and out of that makeup over a thousand times, it wouldn't be surprising if he never wanted to talk about again, but he still does and does it with pride over the work he's put into the film industry.
   Robert Englund is 68-years-old today, and I'm glad I was born into the generation with him as our horror all-star. After watching the first film and reading and watching a good bit about Englund, I asked my parents to order his book used on Amazon, which I then read

With several generations of fans

with keen fascination (his book is wonderful by the way, I highly recommend it). His retrospective over his career was truly inspiring and left a socially awkward rising 9th grader with a hopeful message to not be afraid of whatever strange path life takes you, but embrace it as it embraces you. I was a shy, lonely middle schooler, but his description of being a theater kid in high school made me want to explore the dramatic arts; ultimately it helped me break out of my quiet little bubble and be more outspoken about my interests in cult, horror, and just who I am and what I like in general. So without Robert Englund, I might not even be running this blog.
   I can only send out so many good vibes with this article, so I'll sum up my feelings towards Englund as simply as I can: out of anyone I'd like to meet and tell how much they've changed my life, I'd pick him.
   Someone who can scare the living daylights out of you as a story-teller, and inspire you to be a better person in the real world, is perhaps the greatest kind of person one can be.
   Happy birthday Robert Englund, you rock dude.

"If only one of my movies survives the test of time, that's wonderful, but if I make you forget your problems for a minute or three, I've done my job." - Robert Englund, from his book Hollywood Monster