MEMORIES: AMC's MonsterFest

Every horror fan comes to the genre in different ways. As a kid, most of the movies I saw were controlled by my parents. Anything I rented or watched usually had to go through them first. Not that I had much interest in horror flicks back then, since I was a timid, wimpy kid. So, even if I was interested in monster movies as a child, I probably couldn’t have gotten them through my usual video store haunts. Television, instead, was the easiest way to watch genre cinema. Which brings me to the network formally known as American Movie Classics and their annual MonsterFest marathon.

In 2016, AMC is another one of those cable channels whose initials stand for nothing. The network has long since abandoned its original goal, of showing classic films. These days, the channel’s biggest hits have nothing to do with movies. Programs like “Breaking Bad,” “Mad Men,” and “The Walking Dead” have made AMC the home for prestige television. When they show movies at all, they’re usually no older then twenty years and are edited for content and commercials.

But it didn’t use to be that way. Around the end of the nineties, AMC – back when those letters still stood for American Movie Classics – was added to our cable package. Turner Classic Movies, still the gold standard for classic cinema based networks, was only available in the “premium” set-up at the time. Which meant my household didn’t get it. So when AMC appeared, it was a great alternative. The channel, true to its name, very rarely showed anything made after the 1980s. Instead, the focus was on black and white cinema from Hollywood’s golden years. The films were presented unedited and commercial free. For movie fans who couldn’t afford the upgrade to Turner Classic Movies, it was a quality replacement.

As a twelve year old boy, I’ll admit, the films of John Wayne, Cary Grant, Greta Garbo, and Jimmy Stewart didn’t interest me very much. I had no aversion to black and white films but usually associated monochromatic movies with the boring Fred Astaire flicks my mom loved. In other words, AMC didn’t appeal to me very much at first. However, while channel surfing one night, I stumbled upon a classic Godzilla movie. “Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster,” to be precise. Then and now, I loved the Japanese King of the Monsters. I had only seen a few of the original series but was determined to complete my Godzilla education. Upon discovering that I was watching AMC, I began to religiously scan through the TV Guides and on-line schedules, making sure I wouldn’t miss any future screenings of scaly kaiju flicks.

Through these avenues, I discovered that AMC had a weekly programming block devoted to special effects films. Airing Friday evenings, it was called “AMC’s efx” and was hosted by effects mastermind Stan Winston. In hopes of seeing more Godzilla movies, I started tuning in every week. I’ve mentioned the program numerous times over the years, which shows the huge influence it had on me. By the year 2000, Joe Bob Brigg’s “MonsterVision” was over and even Elvira couldn’t hold onto a show. Stan Winston and his room full of famous creations was the closest thing I had to a weekly horror host show. It’s true that Winston had only recorded a few unique host segments, most films being introduced with the same canned opening. It’s also true that "efx" wasn’t solely devoted to sci-fi and horror films. Earth-bound effects features like “The Enemy Below” sometimes slipped through. Yet I was exposed to many films I love through “AMC’s efx.”

As huge as “efx” was for me, it’s not the thing I miss the most about the old AMC. That would be the original MonsterFest. The annual horror marathon began, as far as I can tell, in 1997. For one solid week at the end of October, AMC would play nothing but horror movies. Considering the network’s then focus on golden age cinema, this meant 168 hours of classic horror, with few repeats. American Movie Classics pulled out all the stops for MonsterFest. The network would rope in big name guests to host the event. Their website would be packed with related games and trivia. In other words, it was bliss.

The first MonsterFest I can recall watching was the 2000 edition. Through this programming block, I first saw many of the films I now love. Most of the Universal Monsters movies aired during MonsterFest. I can recall seeing Roger Corman’s “Pit and the Pendulum” and “Mothra vs. Godzilla” during that year’s marathon. While the movies were the main attraction, Monster Fest’s surrounding elements were often just as entertaining. In 2000, MonsterFest had a morgue theme. A dead body on a slab would introduce the movies and promote the network’s ventures. (That year included a sweepstakes tying in with “The Mummy Returns.”) The coming-up promos were surrounded by medical devices and glowing green lights. In an amusingly odd move, Whoopi Goldberg also hosted several of the big premieres. This is, by far, the MonsterFest I think about the most.

By the next year, I was eagerly anticipating MonsterFest. The prior year had hooked me. 2001 featured many of the same black and white monster movies. I can vividly recall recording an all-night marathon of Universal’s Frankenstein sequels, the tape beginning with the static-filled opening credits of “Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man.” 2001’s marathon had a gimmick that specifically linked it with the time and place. Each weekday night was devoted to a series of films. Each block was hosted by the voice behind You Don’t Know Jack. For those that don’t remember, “You Don’t Know Jack” was a series of trivia themed computer games, each one hosted by a sarcastic comedian. The series was so popular that it even briefly supported a television version. Why AMC partnered with a now obscure game series, I don’t know, but it probably made sense at the time.

I can’t remember everything I saw during 2001’s MonsterFest. I know one of the themed nights featured “The Mummy” series. In a break from the focus on older cinema, another one of the nights revolved around “The Omen” films. (I was able to excuse this at the time, since the original was old enough to arguably classify as a “classic.”) Frankenstein, Dracula, and the Wolfman were present and accounted for. As memorable as this was, two other aspect stick out about 2001’s season. The first of which was the number of related games AMC featured on their website. That year’s MonsterFest had a college theme, for some reason. One of the games was hosted by a Peter Lorre sound alike and, after a series of questions, placed you in a monster themed fraternity. Another game was a bowling simulation with skulls and decapitated heads in place of balls. Ah, the days when Flash games were enough to amuse me for hours…

2001 was also the year Short Screamers debuted. Fans would submit short horror films, none running longer then a minute. AMC would select the best ones and Clive Barker would present them on air, usually as filler in-between movies. A lot of these shorts stick in my brain to this day. One was a switcharoo about a small alien life form attached to an astronaut. Another involved a severed hand being delivered to a woman’s doorstep. The woman screamed before calling her mother and informing her that the boyfriend got the wrong ring. Yet another featured a woman nearly discovering her date is a serial killer. Many of the Short Screamers impressed me at how professional they were and how much story the filmmakers could fit into such a short time frame. The program was popular enough that AMC would revisit it for future MonsterFests. Sadly, very few of these shorts have surfaced on the internet.

By 2002, the network was already changing. John Carpenter was brought in as the big name host for that year’s MonsterFest. The Short Screamers would return, though I can’t remember any entry from that year. What I most remember about 2002’s MonsterFest was how much sickly, slime-like neon green that channel would use in its advertisement. AMC kept a lot of classic monster movies on the schedule. Yet that year also saw the introduction of the later “Halloween” sequels. The film selection would also less varied. It seemed like “Halloween 4” and 5 got played several times a week. Naturally, the grislier content in these newer films meant AMC could no longer comply with its “uncut, commercial free” motto.

This trend towards pushing the classics off the schedule would continue as the years went on. I barely remember 2003’s MonsterFest. I know some movie called “Piñata: Survival Island,” about a cheap CGI monster hunting Nicholas Brendon during panty raids, was repeatedly shown for some reason. Soon afterwards, AMC would allow commercials on their network, constantly interrupting films with advertisements. In time, the black and white movies would be pushed into the early morning hours, “Bride of Frankenstein” and other classic being relegated to four A.M. show times.

I stopped watching the network soon afterwards. I know MonsterFest would eventually mutate into the more generic FearFest. I once glanced at the late October schedule and found it full of “Halloween” and “Friday the 13th” sequels, all cut for content and to cram in as many commercials as possible. Eventually, AMC would drop the American Movie Classics labeling all together. I don’t even know what kind of films the network shows now. Their TV series are all they advertise. It’s a sad state of affairs, the basic cable version of Turner Classic Movies essentially becoming another generic network.

Maybe MonsterFest as originally envisioned would seem antiquated in 2016. Personally speaking, I almost never watch movies on television anymore. I’ve got a large DVD/Blu-Ray collection and the internet to fulfill almost any movie watching itch I get. Yet when you’re in control it makes discovery less likely. I know I wouldn’t be the horror fan I am today without the MonsterFest of old. The memories of the kooky, spooky AMC continue to resonate with me, reminding me of a less connected but perhaps more innocent time.

MEMORIES: Sega Genesis

Video games are huge business these days and I do not care. The most recent game system I own is an X-Box 360, which I bought exclusively to play “Marvel vs. Capcom III.” I haven’t turned on the system in probably over a year, to the point I unplugged it from my TV, wrapped it up in its cords, and hid it away somewhere. But it wasn’t always that way. As a kid in the early nineties, I saw video game systems as the ultimate status symbol. When I was very young, there was an NES in the house. However, it was designated as belonging to the family and was mostly played by my older sister. (That is until a pet cat chew through one of the cords, rendering the system unplayable.) A friend of mine owned a Super Nintendo, which I coveted greatly. However, there was one game system which I desired more then any other: The Sega Genesis, known overseas as the Megadrive.

The reasons why I lusted after the Genesis so much are easy to determine. Sega’s advertisements positioned the Genesis as a hipper, edgier console over its competition. In truth, the Super Nintendo had a stronger graphics card, more memory, better sound, and a library of games filled with genuine classics. That didn’t matter to five year old Zack Clopton back in 1993. I totally bought every line about Blast Processing, every promise that Sega does what Nintendon’t. The goal of these commercials was to make the Genesis seem like the badass of the home console world. Nintendo, meanwhile, was for babies. It worked, at least on me.

Yet even that wasn’t the real reason why I desired a Genesis. Last week, the internet celebrated the 25th anniversary of Sonic the Hedgehog. As a kid, I was obsessed with Sega’s blue mascot with ‘tube. The comic book and cartoon shows fostered such a love for the character and his world, one that shamefully continues to this day, that I had to start a whole other blog to figure out why. I happily consumed the comics and loved the Saturday morning series but knew Sonic began his life as a video game character. For years, I only played the games at a friend's home or in store display room. Finally, in 1995 at the age of seven, I received a Genesis for Christmas. Afterwards, I spent hours playing many of the “Sonic” games, with the second one quickly emerging as my favorite.

You’ll notice that this blog isn’t called “Video Game Thoughts.” Back in the mid-nineties, I didn’t read reviews. Magazines and probably even some early websites existed devoted to parsing out which video games were good and which were crap. Nowadays, I know that video games based off of movies or television shows are not traditionally well regarded. When I was a kid, I was drawn to games inspired by film. What young cinema fan wouldn’t be? Who wouldn’t love a chance to play through their favorite movies or shows?  Naturally, I wound up with quite a few digital adaptations of cinematic creations. Some of these games, I would later realize, weren’t very good. Back then, I would play them over and over again, mining hours of entertainment from products of sometimes questionable quality.

Such as, for example, the video game based off “The Pagemaster.” The film, which I’m a fan of, was a box office flop in its day. I don’t think the video game was much more widely seen. As a kid, I liked the opening level, which took place in a spooky castle, featuring lots of ghosts and skulls. Playing the game as an adult, I realize the controls are slippery, the game mechanics are sometimes confusing, and the level designs are non-intuitive. Not everything you enjoyed as a kid will stand up to scrutiny as an adult. This is the sort of lesson you have to learn when you’re a nostalgia addict.

Some of those Sega games, on the other hand, hold up alright. The Disney Animated Features of the day were often accompanied by video game adaptations. While these rarely stand as crowning achievements for the art form, a few of them weren’t too bad. “Aladdin” is actually one of the best selling games for the Genesis. The game play is often repetitive but the artwork is vibrant and the action is exciting enough. Mostly, I just loved revisiting the film’s world and being able to see more of it. The same could be said of “The Lion King” game, also developed by Virgin Interactive. By switching between Simba as a cab and an adult, the game provided some variety. The stages, which included the elephant graveyard and the wildebeest stampede, could become very intense. Even the weaker levels did their best to recreate the film’s gorgeous artwork.

Of course, not all of the Sega games with the Disney brand were that good. “The Jungle Book” is a solid enough platformer. It’s also has colorful, faithful graphics. However, the difficulty level was a bit too steep for me as a kid. There are so many enemies that your health meter is quickly drained. At least Mogwli’s 16 bit adventure was more memorable then “The Little Mermaid” game. I mostly recall the confusingly laid out stage and lack of weapons in that game. “The Beauty and the Beast” game, meanwhile, only sticks with me because I could never make it pass the first level. I’ve never had especially admirable gaming skills but I don’t feel the need to revisit these cartridges too often.

 
When “Toy Story” came out in 1995, it naturally was accompanied by a video game adaptation. The Sega port did an okay job of copying the film’s computer graphics, to the best of the Genesis’ ability. The game often changed format, including a first person perspective on one level and a driving level with terrible controls. Despite that, I still wanted the “Toy Story” video game so much. That December, it was on all the Christmas wish lists sent out to each family member. On the 25th, my dear grandmother happily handed me a wrapped gift shaped like a Genesis box. I unwrapped the package to find… The Sega Genesis game “Toys,” based off the Robin Williams’ movie of the same name. As debatable as the film’s merits are, the game is far worst. That Christmas represents one of the earliest times I can recall being forced to swallow my disappointment and smile at a gift I didn't want.

I frequently played two Sega Genesis games that were based off at-the-time popular cartoon shows that were, nevertheless, built around film references. This made perfect sense for “Animaniacs,” as the show usually parodied both new and classic movies. That video game, by the way, is alright. Being able to switch between the three Warner siblings, each one with a different ability, is mildly innovative. The artwork, meanwhile, is colorful and memorable. I especially loved the horror movie inspired stage. “Garfield: Caught in the Act” also featured a horror stage. The graphics weren’t as bold but they still featured a handful of amusing sights. That game wasn’t nearly as interesting, being a far more standard platformer. I was never able to beat it due to a glitch in the third stage, where the boss just leaves the game.

As I’ve mentioned before, sometimes just browsing the video game section at a video rental place was an experience unto itself. I usually stuck to titles I was familiar with. My local video store had a fairly small Sega Genesis selection and rarely got in new games. This meant I would often rent the same titles over and over again. This was how I was able to master “Dynamite Headdy” before I even owned a couple. Occasionally, my hand would hover over a movie-related game repeatedly without ever renting it. “Moonwalker” intrigued me but I wasn’t a big enough Michael Jackson fan to ever take that plunge. “Toxic Crusaders,” meanwhile, mildly interested me. Even as a kid though, I kind of suspected that video game sucked. When I played the game years later, that assumption was proven correct. “Moonwalker,” meanwhile, is a mildly entertaining game, worth playing if only for its bizarre novelty value.

I still have my original Sega Genesis, by the way. It’s a model two that still functions perfectly. Today, you can take a brand new video game system out of the box and it’ll die immediately. Back in the nineties, you could throw one down the stairs and you’d still be able to plug it in and play it. Occasionally, I even acquire a game I never had as a kid. “Splatterhouse 2” was probably too explicitly gory and creepy for my childhood eyes. As an adult, I love the way it mashes up different eighties horror flicks, essentially creating a video game where Jason Voorhees fights the Evil Dead. “RoboCop vs. Terminator,” meanwhile, I didn’t even knew existed back then. That game is fun too, though far from perfect. Again, there’s something to be said about getting to see RoboCop blast away legions of T-800s. It’s certainly something you’ll never see in a movie.

I know this wasn’t the most insightful Memories essay. Much like playing them, writing about video games is a tricky art form. The truth is, outside of the titles I mentioned here, I didn’t play that many other Genesis games. I didn’t play classics of the system like “Gunstar Heroes” or “Castlevania: Bloodlines” until I was much older. (Sorry, I couldn’t find a way to connect childhood favorites like “Battletoads & Double Dragon” or “Eternal Champions” to this blog’s theme.) The quality of the games wasn’t always sterling but the Genesis and its many titles remain a source of nostalgia for me. While many people love “Dark Souls” or “Overwatch,” I wouldn’t even know what to do with those. A bit of the ol’ Blast Processing and that simple black box were always enough for me.

MEMORIES: Action Figures

Everyone plays with toys as a kid. Once upon a time, this might have meant wheels and sticks, eggs and spoons. In the 21st century, it means action figures, dolls, and plush toys licensed from movies, cartoons, comic books, and video games. With the exception of old stalwarts like Transformers and LEGO, original toy lines seem harder to launch in today's risk-averse world. Not that I’m complaining. As a kid, I loved toy lines based off movies and TV shows. Of course, I could wax nostalgically about Beast Wars or Ninja Turtles. But toy lines connected with cinema seemed special to me. There’s little doubt in my mind that my passion for one fueled my passion for the other. Long before I started collecting action figures for their aesthetic value, I collected toys so I could imagine adventures beyond the films, beyond the pre-existing story lines.

I’ve already written a long winded essay about the horror-themed collectable that would come along when I was a little older. If you wanted to collect monsters or madman earlier in the nineties, quality products were harder to find. Which isn’t to say some people didn’t try. The late eighties and early nineties were a weird time to be a kid. While moral guardians still exerted considerable power – the music obscenity controversies had already come and gone by this point – sometimes odd topics were deemed appropriate for small kids. In 1992, toy company Kenner produced a line of action figures based off “Aliens.” You know, that R-rated sci-fi/horror/action film about penis-headed demons from outer space that rape your face. Kenner took a number of liberties with the source material, of course. The toy line focused on absurd hybrids of the iconic xenomorphs and earthly animals. Thus, kids had snake, panther, mantis, gorilla and more variations on H. R. Giger’s phallic monstrosity to play with.

Despite being made for kids, the toy line still maintained many of the grotesque aspects of the cinematic creatures. In truth, even with its kid-friendly softening, the toys were actually a little too freaky for the younger, more timid version of myself. Convinced by the awesome commercials, I talked my mom into buying me the Bull Alien. Once I got the figure out of the packaging, the reality of the frightening design was a little too much for five year old me. I remember trying to sleep – and failing – while the Bull Alien starred at me from my toy box. I ended up gifting the figure to a more sturdy friend. Years later, after actually watching the movies and developing my love for monsters, I would scoop up more of Kenner’s “Aliens” figures from my local K.B. Toys’ clearance bin.

Amusingly, Kenner’s toy designers didn’t stop at one R-rated sci-fi/horror franchise. Two years after their “Aliens” line proved successful, the company would also produce a toy line based of “Predator.” You know, that movie about a vagina-faced monster from outer space that skins people. While the Predator series presented fewer opportunities for young fans to make a monster-filled zoo, Kenner’s “Predator” line still exaggerated on the cinematic designs. One notable Predator toy had giant tentacles growing from his face. However, the Predator’s specialized equipment lent itself well to toy action features. Naturally, you had Predators that changed colors and launched giant missiles. Kenner would follow the lead of the Dark Horse comic books and produce “Aliens vs. Predator” toys as well. It’s no surprise that both lines remain a source of horror fan nostalgia today.

The decision to create kid-friendly merchandise based off R-rated movies might seem like an odd one today. But there was precedence for such things, at the time. Long before my days, toy lines and cartoons accompanied hyper-violent films like “Rambo” or “RoboCop.” The practice was still around in the nineties. I fondly recall a toy line based off “Terminator 2.” One figure of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s time displaced killing machine could fire a clenched fist, connected to the arm by a white string. Another had tear away human features, revealing the mechanical skeleton underneath. The practice of targeting kids’ toys based off adult skewing films would mostly die out by the end of the decade. The last example I can think of is Galoob’s “Starship Troopers” line. I can see the designs of the alien insects appealing to kids. I can’t see most adults approving of the film’s casual nudity or limb-tearing gore.

Then again, some movies were created with the intention of selling toys. After the surreal pseudo-sexual darkness of “Batman Returns” prompt parental complaints, the content of “Batman Forever” and “Batman & Robin” were considerably softened. The latter film is reportedly credited with the creation of the term “toyetic.” As in, “intentionally designing something that isn’t a toy so that it will make an awesome toy.” As a kid, you don’t notice narrative content being disregarded in favor of merchandising. Even kid-me recognized that the latter two “Batman” sequels were inferior to the first. I didn’t have any such complaints about the action figures. “Batman Forever” produced a massive Batcave play set that I greedily lusted after as a kid without ever receiving one. I also loved the Batmobile, which also transformed into the Batwing and Batboat. The individual figures didn’t interest me as much – though the talking Riddler was eye-catching – but the play sets definitely held my attention.

Of course, some movies didn’t require extensive re-working to make room for toy makers. Dinosaurs have an evergreen appeal with kids. “Jurassic Park” was more then ready to capitalize on that. Kenner probably could’ve slapped the “Jurassic Park” logo on pre-existing dinosaurs toys and laughed all the way to the bank. (They happily slapped the “JP” logo on everything else.) Instead, they produced several series worth of unique dino toys. An action feature that I especially loved as a child was the “dino damage.” The “Jurassic Park” toys had bits of flesh or plating that tore away, revealing bloody muscles underneath. Money wasn’t always easy to come back when I was kid. The large scale dinosaur toys of “Jurassic Park” were mostly out of my parents’ price range. Yet you can bet the one toy from the line I received, the rubbery stegosaurus with its gasping face, I treasured.

(Amusingly, the “Jurassic Park” toy line would outlive even that movie’s longer-than-average lifespan. Kenner would cook up all sorts of wacky gimmicks to keep the toy line going. One of my favorites was the “Chaos Effect” series, which mashed together different dinosaurs into single creatures, often with bright, outrageous color palettes. It shouldn’t come as a shock that a toy company thought up this idea before “Jurassic World” did.)

Other companies were more then happy to exploit the popularity of dinosaurs among toy-crazy kids. I’ve written extensively about my love for Godzilla. Even if Toho’s Heisei-era films weren’t always widely seen in the nineties, toy company Trendmasters still pulled from the films for their Godzilla line. I loved these toys as a kid. Trendmaster exaggerated the already toy-friendly monster designs to be even more comic book-y. Godzilla gained a muscular physique. Rodan gained more spikes and more fearsome facial features. This toy line was my first exposure to characters like Battra, Space Godzilla, and Biolantte. I can recall one scenario where, after a rough day at school, my Mom took me to K-Mart and let me go home with a MechaGodzilla figure. I still have a lot of these figures but they were roughly played with. My King Ghidorah is missing two of his three heads. One of Rodan’s wings is barely attached. That didn’t stop me from imaging and acting out adventures with the toys, which I did often. Though undeniably childish, they are still pretty neat figures. The toy line lasted longer then I knew at the time, with obscure characters like Baragon and Varan even getting figures. Before going under, Trendmaster even produced a Gamera action figure line. I wouldn’t discover these existed for years afterwards.

In the nineties, toy line were often supported by Saturday morning cartoons and vice versa. The connection was so strong in my mind that I was often disappointed when cool toy lines didn’t have corresponding cartoon shows. Kenner’s “DragonHeart” toy line expanded on the feature film. While the film only had one dragon, the toy line had several. One had two heads and the other had a row of spikes extending from its back. Yes, I was disappointed when the film failed to feature these characters. I don’t know if a cartoon was planned to tie in with the film and the toys but I suspect it. Those “DragonHeart” figures were well done, considering the time, and the large-scale Drago figure remains in my collection to this day.

 
Some movies were more successful in spinning off cartoon shows and toy lines. I loved the nineties “Addams Family” movies as a kid, the morbid laughs and gothic production values no doubt appealing to the future horror fan in me. The movies spawned a wackier kid’s cartoon that aired around the same time. I vaguely recall the cartoon show. The corresponding toy line, however, I remember vividly. My Mom bought me nearly the entire toy line as an Easter gift one year. I can remember waking up that morning and seeing the toys, stuck into a small basket, sitting atop my toy box. The action features were less then imaginative. Lurch lazily lifted his arms. Vines extended out of Morticia's sleeves. Gomez’ sword slowly swatted back and forth. Despite that, I adored those toys and spent hours messing around with them. Morticia often became my default female figure, often rescued by other, always-male toys. Once, Lurch traveled with me to a friend’s house. There, his head was broken on a row of concrete steps. I really wanted a replacement but the toy line was long out of production by that point. I was so attached to the toy line that I was disappointed when the Wednesday and Thing figures promised on the back of the packaging was never released.

Getting attached to failed toy lines wasn’t uncommon for me. I also loved the “Extreme Ghostbusters” toys. By the time the “Extreme Ghostbusters” cartoon rolled around, the franchise was long past its peak popularity. The corresponding toy line cooled on store pegs for months after the show’s conclusion. That didn’t stop me from loving them. The toys were brightly colored, with big backpacks and multiple connecting tubes. Each Ghostbuster was packaged with a small, almost cute ghosts and a bright orange trap. Those trap accessories often crossed over with my other toys. I can even remember carrying them around in my pockets, pretending they were coins. Kids are funny that way. I also had a few of the ghosts, such as the pumpkin-headed Samhain. Disappointingly, the toy line didn’t cover all the major characters of the series. The failure of the toy line meant the proposed figure of wheelchair bound Garret never reached production. Luckily, goth female Kylie did get an action figure, proving there was once a time when “Ghostbusters” fans didn’t hate women.

A lot of these toys are still packed up in boxes at my mom’s place. Many of them are lost to time. My figure of Arnold Schwarzenegger as Hamlet from the “Last Action Hero” line – which, amusingly, shot a spring-loaded skull – disappeared at an overnight stay at Joe Scotti’s house. The figure of the dog from “The Mask,” which featured a crazed grin on its face and a large net apparatus on its back, vanished on a school bus. Yet you’ve always got your memories. My tendency to hold onto my childhood toys – and the memories I built around them – is no doubt evidence of my arrested development. I’m okay with that. Loving old toys puts me in good company these days. Should I ever have kids of my own, I look forward to them building their own memories around the colorful action figures and toys they receive.

MEMORIES: Video Rental Stores

There’s no item of movie nerd nostalgia whose loss has been bemoaned more then the video rental store. I’m not the first to write about them and I certainly won’t be the last. Whole documentaries have been made on the subject. Some are so devoted to the video store that they’ve even sought to re-create it. Yet the fact remains. Despite a few stubborn hold-outs, the video store is more-or-less extincted. They are places of the past. For many film fanatics, the video rental store is where their obsession began. Whether it be big chains or weirdo mom-and-pop places, they were temples of knowledge for burgeoning cinema fans. Here are some of my memories of the local video stores that shaped my interest in movies.

That last aspect is worth emphasizing. Once upon a time, I didn’t have the huge movie collection I do now. When I was young, we only had a few VHS tapes to our name. Though tapes weren’t as expensive as they were when the technology was new, they still weren’t something my family could afford to buy all the time. The video store democratized home media. Instead of buying a tape, which brand new were still in the twenty-to-thirty range, you could instead rent one for a few bucks. A proper video store also had a huge back catalog. In the days before the internet, we had to rely on video stores for our film viewing experiences. If your local rental places didn’t have it, odds are good you didn’t see it. But the best stores had many obscure films available for rent, as many of them rarely sold their tapes.

Growing up, my family was fairly poor. My mom had to work all week just to be able to afford two luxuries for us kids. On Fridays, we would rent a movie or two from the video store and then get a Happy Meal from McDonalds. Our video store of choice was Top 20 Video. Located within walking distance of my home, Top 20 was the center piece of a strip mall in town. Top 20 wasn’t one of those rental stores where the tapes were on shelves. Instead, you grabbed the box of your desired movie and walked up to the front desk. There, a clerk would retrieve the movie from a library in the back. I remember Top 20 used to have two-for-five-dollars deals, that I constantly took advantage of. I also recall that a friend of my mom’s worked there, who would often greet us.

Top 20 is a place I spent a lot of time as a kid and many stray details remain in my brain. Naturally, I spent a lot of time in the children’s section, which was right by the door. I repeatedly rented a series of VHS tape collecting Halloween-themed episodes of Disney cartoons. I kept coming back to these tapes not so much for the cartoons but for the spooky “Grim Grinning Ghost” sing-a-long that started each one. I also remember some scoundrel placed “Return of the Living Dead 2” in the kids’ section, where, as far as I know, it stay until Top 20 closed.

Top 20 had a lay-out similar to most video stores. The older tapes, segregated by genre, stood in cubicles along the right side wall. To the left, was a sprawling wall of new releases. In the center of the hallway where the video game rentals and a small play castle, both places I spent a lot of time. The horror section was by the front desk. At that age, I was far too timid to actually venture there. Truthfully, while walking up to the desk, I often looked away from that cubicle, so I wouldn’t be spooked by some creepy box art. Despite that, I was endlessly intrigued and would often sneak shy glances. “Terror in the Swamp” is a random tape I can recall seeing. Top 20 also kept posters for the appropriate genres on the walls above each section. I can definitely recall the poster for “Warlock” resting above the horror section for years and years.

Of course, Top 20 was far from the only video store in our local area. For that matter, at varying points in time, there were three or four others. On the main street of my small town, there was a two story brick building. I can only remember going into that business once. My dad claimed relatives of his ran the place and once, out of curiosity, we both checked it out. The tapes were kept on metal racks tightly packed next to each other. That place also had the kids’ section right next to the horror section, which meant the grinning monster face of the “Critters” poster stared me down while I browsed “Power Rangers” VHS tapes. That video place wasn’t around long and went out of business years ago. The building is still there, as a place that sells fireworks three months out of the year.

A bit of a further drive from home was Video Invasion. Video Invasion was also part of a strip mall but a larger one, that included an Italian restaurant and an auto-repair shop. As I recall it, Video Invasion was a huge, warehouse style store. Shelves ran the length of the building. Hanging above the horror section was a small promotional item for one of the “Nightmare on Elm Street” movies, showing Freddy’s claw slashing through the movie’s title. (At least, I think it was for a Freddy movie…) Aside from that, I don’t remember Video Invasion very well. It’s possible I was only actually inside the place once. More then the business itself, I remember the store’s mascot – a cartoony space man holding a ray gun – on the sign outside and on the membership card. Video Invasion lasted a little longer then Top 20 did but went out of business around the same time.

 
Despite the video rental business being considered a dead end, weirdly, a new store opened in my home town not long after those previously mention places shut down. Video Den may be a small, locally owned chain as there’s at least one other store with that name around here. When Video Den first opened up, it was the first time I had actually been inside a real video store in years. DVD was still not the default technology. At first, they had an extremely good VHS archive. More then once, I enjoyed just browsing through the back room where all the older titles were kept. Of course, VHS was soon entirely obsolete and Video Den sold off their archive. Disappointingly, it soon became clear that the people who owned the store weren’t huge movie fans. This put me in an unexpected situation. Every time I visited my mom’s home town, I had a chance to step inside a video store. Yet unpleasant proprietors meant I didn’t venture inside Video Den as often as I could. A brief look at their Facebook page shows that they’re closing down at the end of next month. Now I feel guilty for not shopping there more often.

For years, when traditional video stores were only a dying breed instead of totally extinct, a specific business was widely despised by weirdo movie fans. Blockbuster Video was criticized for its puritanical censorship clauses, apathetic teenage employees, and tendency to drive weirder ma-and-pop video places out of business. Yet, when the smaller businesses closed up, Blockbuster hung on. In an odd way, the disliked chain became the only way for movie fans to re-experience the unique high gained from the video store experience. We had a Blockbuster but it was in the closest city, meaning there were many closer video stores when I was younger. As a kid, I can remember going into Blockbuster once or twice. I recall thinking their video game selection was slightly better, back when Sega Genesis and Super Nintendo were still the top consoles. My most pertinent memory of Blockbuster occurred when I was much older and involves an ex-girlfriend. After getting dinner at a near-by sushi joint, in the dead of winter, we zipped into Blockbuster to browse and get warm.

Like a lot of movie nerds, I eventually found employment at a video store. When I was a penniless college student, I took a brief job at that same Blockbuster. Mostly so I could have some cash to my name. All things considered, it was a fairly painless experience. It was the easiest job interview I've ever had. After telling the manager I was a huge film buff who organized my own extensive collection for fun, I was hired. I can only recall two evenings we had biggish crowds. My co-workers were all very relaxed. Customers were only occasionally rude. My favorite memories of that place were when shoppers asked for recommendations, which I was always enthusiastic to give. The manager could be bitchy and the pay was pathetic but I do not besmirch my brief time at Blockbuster Video.  

And the time was brief. When I got the job at Blockbuster, I knew I was chaining my boat to a sinking industry. I was there a little over a year when the news came down from on high that the store was closing. At the time, I was bummed out less because I was loosing a job and more because it meant one less video store in the world. It wasn’t the first time a video store had closed its doors. Top 20 Video shut down several years prior. A huge liquidation sale followed. Top 20 was filled front to back with tapes and DVDs. Apparently, this wasn’t just a liquidation for Top 20 but for many other video stores in the area. At that sale, I acquired a few tapes of oddball titles that have never gotten DVD releases. Things like “Junior,” “Splatter” and “Horrible Horror.” As much fun as I had digging through piles of old movies, it was bittersweet. Top 20 was a part of my childhood and now it was gone.

Video stores are now gone. Holdouts like Video Den are the exception, not the rule. Of course, the likes of Netflix, Amazon, and Hulu made the video store obsolete. While digging through the uncertain libraries of local shops, you never knew if they had what you were looking for. You can find almost everything on the internet. Like literature lovers bemoaning the rise of the E-book, there was something tactile about the video store experience. Greeting the workers, running your fingers through the shelves, and seeing the individual charms of the various stores were all part of the fun. As a kid, the video store was a place of escapism and discovery. Looking stuff up on Netflix isn’t the same.

As we head towards a future where most movies are watched via on-line streaming, I have concerns of my own. The central question has already shifted. No longer do prospective movie watchers ask “Will they have what I want to see?” Now the answer is “What’s streaming?” Do you really trust Netflix that much?  The choice is taken out of the customer’s hand. That makes me uncomfortable. How will future movie fans discover the obscure films that ignite their passions? Until every film ever made is available through streaming service – so, you know, never – cinephiles will mourn the death of the video store. Its equal parts nostalgia and concerns for the future that forces us to hold onto those memories.

MEMORIES: Toonami

The facts in this case have come up once or twice before but I still feel the need to come clean. I am an anime fan. You’d think after an entire generation had been raised on “Pokemon,” there’d be less of a stigma about admitting you like Japanese cartoons. Yet in even 2016, you have lobbyists referring to anime in pejorative terms. I’m hardly an obsessive follower of the medium. I don’t keep up with the scene, I’ve never gone to an anime convention, and years sometimes passed between me watching a series. Yet I still consider kooky Japanese animation an essential part to my developing nerdom. Like many folks my age with an interest in this genre, a programming block called Toonami owes a lot of responsibility for this.

But it didn’t start that way. As a young child, I have vague recollections of seeing “Speed Racer” on television. Surely, I recognize the art style being different then American animation. Even then, my realization that these series came from another country came later. My older sister was dating a guy who was a dork. He was such a dork that he worked at a comic book shop. I was around six years old at the time when he brought over a VHS tape of something called “Ranma ½.” An action/comedy series about people who change gender, species, or shape when exposed to hot or cold water, “Ranma” also had some occasional female nudity. That was the obvious indication to me that these Japanese cartoons where different then what we have over here. I was intrigued, to say the very least.

Toonami – which I promise I’ll get to in a moment – did not emerge out of a vacuum. There was a rising interest in Japanese animation throughout the nineties. “Akira” and “Ghost in the Shell” had already hit. Video shops were starting to cater to the slowly growing market. I didn’t know about that stuff. TV was the way I saw Japanese cartoons. Anime must have been fairly cheap to acquire broadcast rights to. A number of shows where syndicated on weird channels at odd hours. I have vague recollection of “Teknoman” airing on Sunday mornings on my local UPN station. The same network would sometimes show “Dragon Ball Z” on weekday afternoons. At six in the morning before school, the WB station would show “Sailor Moon.” This show was a big deal for me. I was in the second grade at the time, which meant I couldn’t have been any older then seven. Not to be too blunt but those boom anime babes stirred something in me, the first time I can recall feeling a sexual attraction. Maybe that’s why I’m still fond of this genre of animation.

In the early nineties, Cartoon Network wasn’t the creature it is today. The cutting edge weirdness of Adult Swim and beloved neo-cult classics like “Adventure Time” were many years away. Instead, the network was initially built around old cartoons from Ted Turner’s archives. Which mostly consisted of Hanna-Barbera stuff, the occasional Loony Tune, and some newer programs like “Captain Planet” and “SWAT Cats.” Despite the apparent lack of quality on the schedule, I still watched Cartoon Network religiously. When Toonami premiered in 1997, it supplanted a programming block composed of reruns of “Super Friends” and “Jonny Quest.” “Space Ghost: Coast to Coast,” the grandfather of Adult Swim’s stoned-out weirdness, had already premiered. Toonami was initially hosted by the incarnation of Moltar from that show.

Those host segments are what made Toonami truly memorable, at first. I can still recall seeing one of the earliest first promo. There was a cartoon flying saucer zipping through space, zooming over a building on a moon’s surface, and brief glances at the CGI Moltar. The earliest programming on Toonami was not that distinct from what Cartoon Network normally showed. The latest alliteration of “Jonny Quest” was included, as where the Hanna-Barbera superhero cartoons. Yet one show glimpsed in the promos caught my eye: Giant robot lions combining to form an even bigger robot. As a pop culture phenomenon, “Power Rangers” had already peaked. Yet the similarity between the live-action series and the cartoon attracted my attention. Despite the sketchy animation and predictable stories, I ate “Voltron” up.




“Voltron” must have been a hit for the young Toonami. Though “Super Friends” and “Birdman” would stick around for a while, the entire programming block would soon be built around Japanese imports. “Robotech” was de-mothballed and reintroduced to a new generation. (I watched “Robotech” but, even as a kid, I found the mixture of giant robots, J-Idol pop music, and sci-fi politics to be a little melodramatic.) “Sailor Moon” soon joined the network, new episodes translated and dubbed, my passion for the series being reignited. “Ronin Warriors,” a similarly themed action show, would join the schedule a little later. Toonami is where “Dragon Ball Z” would find its audience, becoming a beloved pop culture fad in its own right. Even then “Dragon Ball” was more violent then most American action cartoons, which gave the show a certain edge. Like a lot of kids the time, I became a huge “DBZ” fan. The violence and stylized action hooked me but the escalating conflicts are what kept me watching.

All the above anime had something in common: The shows had already aired in syndication, the process of dubbing and re-cutting for American audiences already handled. I doubt the Cartoon Network executives expected much from Toonami. Instead, the programming block became appointment viewing for kids my age. “Dragon Ball Z,” especially, would become a huge hit. The network was obviously unprepared for that demand. The first 53 episodes of “DBZ” – what was originally included in the syndication package – would re-air endlessly, while new episodes were translated, dubbed, and edited. By that time that happened, it was an event.

It wasn’t just the focus on Japanese animation that made Toonami the hip thing to watch for young nerds. The block’s format drew us in. A host would greet you, introducing each show. Each series was introduced by a montage of scenes from the show, accompanied by rock and dance music. Starting in July of 1999, this aspect of Toonami would be emphasized. Moltar was traded out for T.O.M., a cute helmeted robot. Moltar’s Ghost Planet was traded out for the Absolution, a space craft that floated through space. The CGI budget was given an obvious boost. Low volume trance and electronic music would play during these segments, creating a specific mode. T.O.M. was sarcastic and hip, gently ribbing the shows and letting the viewer know what to expect. Toomani would even air music videos, composed of clips from the various shows and accompanied by semi-philosophical monologues. All of this combined to create a comfortable, likable atmosphere, breeding a fierce loyalty in viewers. Toonami felt like it was made just for the fans, as it didn’t talk down or make fun. Every day from four to six, it was a safe place you could hang out.




The popularity of “Dragon Ball” and “Sailor Moon” created a renewed demand for Japanese animation. Soon, Toonami started airing shows that I had never even heard of. I remember naively thinking that there couldn’t have been that much Japanese animation left. Because kids are dumb. A flood of new series would come to Toonami over the next four years. “Gundam Wing” would introduce the sprawling, ever-green “Gundam” franchise to American shores. The awesome robot designs, kinetic action, and serious seeming plot lines made me a fan of this show too. (As an adult, I recognize the show as self-important and humorless. The robots are still cool though.) Various other “Gundam” series, some of them better than others, would also air on Toonami. “Outlaw Star;” because of its memorable characters, sly sense of humor, fully-formed world, and lovely music; still holds up. “The Big O” also had a wonderful cast, some gorgeous animation, and fantastic art design.

One of the reasons anime appealed to cranky teenagers like me is because it was edgier then American cartoons. The shows were bloodier, sexier, and more serious then U.S.-produced toons, even after editing and censoring. In other words, the cartoons were growing up with us. Out of the fine and not-so-fine shows Toonami brought to my attention, “Tenchi Muyo!” is doubtlessly my favorite. The “Tenchi” franchise was honestly a weird choice for Toonami. The shows focused more on romance and comedy then action. The first series also had a lot of nudity, which Cartoon Network awkwardly covered up with digitally drawn-on swimsuits. Toonami also aired the three then-existing TV shows back-to-back, despite each show existing in its own continuity. This was very confusing for me. Despite this, the show still connected with audiences. Including me. The vivid, lovable characters, with their distinct interactions, still resonate with me. The “Tenchi” multi-verse also has a complex mythology, appealing character designs, and functions on some basic wish-fulfillment premises. Such as a nerdy guy having half a dozen babes throwing themselves at him. Or an ordinary person learning they’re secretly super-powered royalty.

Toonami’s host speaking directly to the audience made us feel included. The music videos, hyper show intros, and ambient soundtrack gave the programming block a personality of its own. T.O.M. and his computer sidekick eventually earned a fan following of their own. The robot would review video games and movies, which is how I learned about “Princess Mononoke.” (Toonami would also sometimes show movies, which is this essay’s tenuous connection to this blog’s film focus.) Cartoon Network realized we liked T.O.M. In 2000, Toonami aired “The Intruder,” a mini-series played between the various shows over the course of a week. In it, T.O.M. fought an alien organism invading his ship. In the end, his cute, squat body was destroyed, allowing T.O.M. to gain a beefier new form. Beloved voice-acting vet Steven Blum provided T.O.M.’s new pipes. Truthfully, “The Intruder” was done primarily to promote Cartoon Network’s new website. That didn’t stop it from feeling like an event.




In its original form, Toonami ran from 1997 to 2008, an unprecedented run for a programming block. By the time Toonami ended in 2008, I had long fallen out of love with it. Long before then, I had become disillusioned with “Dragon Ball Z.” The show’s flaws – the repetitive storylines, never ending filler, characters lacking depth – became apparent to me. In 2002, Toonami started airing “Hamtaro.” A children series about the comic adventures of sickeningly cute hamsters, “Hamtaro” was totally at odds with Toonami’s usual programming. Around the same time, new versions of American cartoons like “He-man,” “Transformers,” and “G.I. Joe” started to fill the hours. I also felt this was a betrayal of Toonami’s mission statement, moving the focus away from Japanese animation. (I must have had a short memory, since American cartoons were a part of Toonami from the beginning.)

The final straw came in 2003. By then, I had moved passed the anime series Cartoon Network approved for me. I started collecting on DVD, focusing on shows with more mature themes, watching in their original language. Cartoon Network shared some fault for this, as the Adult Swim block had started by then, providing me with edgier shows. TechTV – a topic for a future Memories column – was also airing anime by this point, providing more intellectually stimulating shows. In February of 2003, Toonami premiered Giant Robot Week. For five days, they aired episodes of “Evangelion” and “Nadesico.” The shows were heavily edited, to the point of incoherence. I was already a fan of “Evangelion” and found the network’s handling disgraceful. Now, I realize I overreacted. At the time, this was the breaking point. I washed my hands of Toonami. When the programming block was canceled in 2008, I hadn’t pay attention in years.




In the years since Toonami’s 2008 conclusion, the series became a nerd culture touchstone. An entire generation of anime nerds – people far more devoted to the medium than I – had their passion ignited. If you’re around my age and like Japanese cartoons, you probably have Toonami to thank for that. I’ve felt that nostalgia too. Fans clamored so loudly for Toonami’s return that Cartoon Network had to listen. The programming block first returned in 2012 as an April Fools Day gag on the Adult Swim block, itself an institution by this point. The next year, Toonami officially returned, taking over the network on Saturday nights. The new Toonami blatantly patterns itself after the block’s 1999-2003 glory days while airing shows that never would’ve flown in that original time slot. I’ll check on the new Toonami occasionally. (“Kill la Kill” is on my wavelength.) I admire the network’s move but the passion just isn’t there for me anymore. When I feel the need to watch some anime today, I usually just streamed it somewhere.

Yet I have a lot of fond memories to thank Toonami for. For example! I first bonded with JD – the guy who co-hosts the Bangers n’ Mash Show with me and one of my closest friends – over our mutual interest in “Dragon Ball.” Moreover, the sense of fun and discovery the programming block created in me sticks in my brain. During some turbulent teenage years, Toonami was a source of fun, excitement, and even comfort. There will be other attempts to recapture the feeling, even after Adult Swim’s most recent revival ends. But you can never quite perfectly capture the past.