Showing posts with label Hervé Villechaize. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hervé Villechaize. Show all posts

Friday, October 23, 2009

The mind does strange things: Oliver Stone's Seizure

Oliver Stone has made some great films in his career and some underwhelming ones. But landing squarely in the pantheon of mind-warping camp is his debut feature Seizure (1974), which stars Jonathan Frid (Barnabas Collins himself) as a horror novelist whose characters invade his house while he is having friends over for a weekend vacation. The trio of characters are a giant black man, cult-movie goddess Martine Beswicke as “the Queen of Evil,” and the immortal Hervé Villechaize as… I don’t know, some little jester guy who speaks in a thick accent and will kick your ass even though he comes up to your thigh. Do not fuck with Hervé (this was attested to in my interview with Carol Lynley).

I felt that Seizure needed to be represented on YouTube (if only to attest to the wonderful chemicals folks used to ingest in the Seventies), and so uploaded some choice clips. First, a Frid blooper that Stone kept in the film — either because he thought it “seemed real” or because he was pissed off at Frid. Jonathan was known for losing his lines on Dark Shadows and making up new ones that paralyzed his fellow actors. He also cursed to occasionally make the tape stop (outside of cursing, there was no way the directors of the low-budget soap were going to stop tape — actors regularly lost their lines and the take in question aired). The slip occurs at about :24 seconds in:



Hervé’s best moments:



And the film would be utterly insane and still memorable without them, but a little sex appeal never hurt, so here we have the amazing Martine and her ruby lips, and Ms. Woronov and her amazing gams:

Friday, February 20, 2009

Carol Lynley on her stays on Fantasy Island and her friend Roddy McDowall

Veteran performers usually have a raft full of stories about the people they've worked with, but most of them save 'em for their autobiographies (and even then, some of them never come out with the good stuff). I did a delightful interview a few years back with veteran actress Carol Lynley, who was more than willing to share her honest opinions about her experiences in show business. In addition to discussing her work with Otto Preminger (with whom she made one of the finest thrillers of the Sixties, Bunny Lake is Missing, and one of the campiest mellers, The Cardinal), she also talked about her work as a teen actress, and her starring role as a damsel in distress in Radley Metzger's The Cat and the Canary.

Two of my favorite portions of the chat were about her friend Roddy McDowall:



and her many visits to Fantasy Island: