Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 214: 'Diary of a Transvestite Hooker' (1973)

Is this Ed Wood book from 1973 worth your time in 2025?

Ed Wood wrote many (!) books between 1963 and 1977, both fiction and nonfiction, but very few of them are in print and readily available to the public today.  Despite (or maybe because of) this scarcity, interest in Ed's written work remains high among fans. Dedicated Woodologists still want to study these forbidden volumes, especially after they've read Rudolph Grey's Nightmare of Ecstasy: The Life and Art of Edward D. Wood, Jr. (1992), which contains a lengthy and detailed bibliography section, complete with tantalizing cover art and lurid quotes from the original paperbacks. Subsequent books like Muddled Mind: The Complete Works of Edward D. Wood, Jr. (2001) and Ed Wood's Sleaze Paperbacks (2013) have also focused on Ed's colorful and prolific writing career.

This has created a strangely persistent gray market on sites like Amazon and Ebay. Independent, small-time publishers with no legal claim to Ed Wood whatsoever will boldly put out their own editions of Eddie's books. The prices for such reissues, although not necessarily cheap, are substantially less than you'd pay for actual vintage paperbacks from the 1960s and '70s. The estate of Kathy Wood, Ed's widow, has tried to put a stop to this practice, but it's like a never-ending game of Whack-A-Mole. You knock one down, and another has already popped up.

Here's what Bob Blackburn, co-heir of Kathy Wood's estate, has to say about the matter:
You are correct about the plethora of bootlegs out there. Part of the problem is, like on Amazon, I need to 100% prove that I am now the copyright owner for them to halt sales. This is nearly impossible to do, even though in the mid-late 1990s Bob [Weinberg, Kathy's attorney] got about 8-10 titles copyrighted in Kathy Wood's name. 
I have broached the subject with Ben Ohmart at Bear Manor of potentially re-publishing some of these down the road, and hopefully we will. Of course, Killer In Drag (1963) and Death of a Transvestite (1967) were legally reprinted in the late 1990s around the time Bob got [Ed Wood's memoir] Hollywood Rat Race published [in 1998]. And yes, it is "whack-a-mole." So, hopefully this year we can get some of Ed's titles out there legitimately. I am hoping to get some of those that come from ed's personal collection and call them, "The Ed Wood Jr., Signature Collection" and use scans of Ed's signatures as proof that they're from the estate.

Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 213: 'The Muddled Years of Edward D. Wood, Jr., 1946-1948' (2025)

In his new book, James Pontolillo covers a misunderstood era of Ed Wood's life.

The biopic Ed Wood (1994) only covers a brief span in the life of its title character. The story starts with Ed (Johnny Depp) directing a production of his play The Casual Company circa 1952 and ends with the (improbably grand) premiere of Ed's feature film Plan 9 from Outer Space in 1957. That's five years out of a 54-year life, about 30 of which were spent in Hollywood. In their introduction to the published screenplay of Ed Wood, writers Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski explain their reasoning for limiting the film's scope:
First, we decided that most film biographies were boring. They seem compelled to follow the subject from cradle to grave. We felt this was too much to cover. Why is somebody's death important? The result often ends up quickly skimming the surface and being uninvolving. So we determined that we would only cover five years—the period that Ed was actually "famous" for.
I heartily agree with this streamlined approach. A good biopic should take the life of its subject and mold it into a satisfying three-act story, and that's exactly what Ed Wood does. Besides, most people who watch that movie will be content with seeing Ed during his prime years, making his most iconic films and working with his idol, Bela Lugosi (as portrayed by Martin Landau).

But then, there are the diehards. The completists. The collectors and catalogers. The makers of lists and writers of essays. They can't be satisfied with a mere capsulized history of their hero. They want the entire, sordid Ed Wood saga, stem to stern. Well, they're in luck this week, because James Pontolillo is back with his second highly specific book about Eddie's early years. 

James' first book, The Unknown War of Edward D. Wood, Jr. 1942-1946 (2017), laid bare Eddie's much-mythologized service record as a Marine during World War II. The sequel, The Muddled Years of Edward D. Wood, Jr. 1946-1948 (2025), basically picks up where the previous volume left off. It covers Ed's life from the time he was honorably discharged through the making of his abortive Western, Crossroads of Laredo (1948).

This was a pivotal time in Ed Wood's life, as it would be in any young person's life. From his birth in 1924 to his induction into the military in 1942, Ed's fate was obviously guided by his parents, his employers, and his teachers. After that, Uncle Sam was definitely calling the shots, even telling him when to get up and when to go to bed. But, as of 1946, Eddie was officially an adult in charge of his own destiny. So what did he do with his newfound freedom?

We've heard various accounts of this transitional period in Ed Wood's life, most of them coming from Eddie himself. But the director of Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957) had a tentative relationship with the truth, to put it mildly, so it's difficult to know what's accurate and what isn't. Did he really perform in drag in New York nightclubs? Did he tour with a traveling carnival as a half-man, half-woman? Did he study with famed choreographer Martha Graham? Did he spy on the Ice Capades for the U.S. government? James Pontolillo is here to investigate each and every one of these claims, plus several more.

Look, I can't "review" this book in any objective way, since I wrote the foreword to it and am quoted in the text several times. But I can honestly report that this book not only gave me a lot of new information, it also caused me to look at Ed Wood's career in a new way, particularly in regards to the various plays Ed studied that may have influenced his later writing. 

James has told me he didn't intend for his book to be any kind of definitive, final statement about this time in Ed's life. And he admits that there are still gaps in the chronology that have stubbornly resisted even his formidable research abilities. But The Muddled Years of Edward D. Wood, Jr. certainly supplies ample food for thought. I can pay it no higher compliment than that. Like The Unknown War, this is a quick, fulfilling read that sheds light on some of the darker corners of Ed Wood's colorful life. It's worth your time.

The Muddled Years of Edward D. Wood, Jr. is available right here.

Tuesday, January 28, 2025

Podcast Tuesday: "Wisconsin Fonzarelli and the Chest of Wonders"

Fonzie (Henry Winkler) is menaced by snakes on The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang.

Timbuktu. It's one of those faraway places I've been hearing about since childhood, but I never really knew where it was or what happened there. Well, now, thanks to The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang, I at least have some idea. Timbuktu is a city in the West African nation of Mali, and it became a center of both trade and learning in the 1100s. The city lost its influence over time, due to various wars and invasions, plus the shifting of trade routes. But Timbuktu still exists today, and its rich history is currently being cataloged and preserved. 

Isn't that interesting? There's only one thing that could make the city even more interesting, and that's if the cast of Happy Days somehow managed to materialize there in a flying time machine, accompanied by a "future chick" and a talking dog. And wouldn't you know it? That's exactly what happens in the November 1981 episode "All This and Timbuktu."

This week on These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast, we talk about that episode and the effect it's had on our lives. We sincerely hope you'll join us for what should be a frank and eye-opening discussion.

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 212: Comparing two prints of 'Hellborn' (1956)

Two views of Conrad Brooks as a juvenile delinquent in Hellborn.

When Woody Allen was dissatisfied with September (1987), a somber, Chekhov-inspired drama he'd written and directed, he did something truly remarkable. Even though the movie was already in the editing stages, he scrapped everything he had completed, revised the script, recast all but two of the major roles, and reshot the entire film from scratch. The resulting motion picture garnered lukewarm reviews and earned back only 5% of its $10 million budget. It remains one of the biggest money-losers in the Allen filmography.

I think this story establishes Woody Allen as the cinematic opposite of Ed Wood, despite the passing similarity of their names. Eddie rarely had the luxury of throwing away footage that he'd shot and developed. His most famous feature, Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957), was literally built around using some precious silent film he'd shot of actor Bela Lugosi shortly before Bela's death. And when Ed's juvenile delinquent epic Hellborn (1956) ran out of money and couldn't be completed, Ed took some of the footage he'd shot for it and recycled it in Night of the Ghouls (1959) and The Sinister Urge (1960), regardless of whether it actually fit.

Generally, when we talk about Ed Wood's career, we can divide his film projects into two major categories: ones that got made and ones that didn't. Hellborn is in that rare middle territory, along with Range Revenge (1947), Crossroads of Laredo (1948), and The Night the Banshee Cried (1957): ones that sort of got made. Which is to say, enough footage was shot to give us a vague idea of what this project was supposed to have been. The remains of Hellborn were included in a 1993 documentary produced in conjunction with Cult Movies magazine that I reviewed some time ago on this blog.

Recently, however, reader Brandon Sibley informed me that the 2017 Blu-ray of The Violent Years (1956) from Vinegar Syndrome contained the Hellborn footage as well. This was certainly news to me, and I was eager to compare the 1993 and 2017 editions to see if there were any notable differences between them. Fortunately, since I don't own the Blu-ray (yet), Brandon was kind enough to rip a copy of the Hellborn footage for my perusal.

At first, I was shocked to see that the Vinegar Syndrome version ran over nine and a half minutes, while the Cult Movies version lasted only about seven minutes and 50 seconds. Had Vinegar Syndrome found nearly two minutes of precious extra Hellborn footage? Nah. A side-by-side comparison revealed that both versions of Hellborn contain the exact same shots in the exact same order, but the 1993 version runs about 25% faster than the 2017 version, hence the shorter running time. When I slowed down the 1993 edition just a little, it synced up with the 2017 edition perfectly. This begs the question, which running time is more accurate? I have no idea. My copy of the 1993 Hellborn documentary was made from a VHS tape, but Vinegar Syndrome says its copy of the footage was sourced from VHS as well. You'd think they'd run at the same speed. Nope.

Content-wise, as I indicated earlier, the two Hellborns are the same. I've never seen a script or even a plot outline for this film, but it seems to center around two violent street gangs—one all male, the other all female. We see both groups committing crimes, including mugging a man in an alley, terrorizing an ice cream salesman, and robbing a gas station. At the end, the two gangs rendezvous in the park. Conrad Brooks has a central role as a gleefully violent thug. Ed Wood plays two parts: a switchblade-wielding crime boss and a female robber. Mona McKinnon also turns up as a gun moll (or knife moll, if you will). Conrad's brother, Henry Bederski, has a memorable cameo as the aforementioned ice cream salesman.

There is a striking visual difference between these two transfers of the Hellborn footage. Neither one, it must be said, is in great shape. The source footage, much like that of Range Revenge, is alternately underlit and overexposed. Perhaps Ed's camerawork was faulty or the footage was poorly preserved. The 1993 transfer is rather dark and murky, but there's a reassuring, homogeneous smoothness to the images. In contrast, the 2017 version is considerably brighter but also quite a bit grainier, giving it a scratchy, speckled appearance.

As seen in Hellborn (sort of): Atlas Batteries and RPM Lubrication.

When I was performing the side-by-side comparison described above, my eyes initially preferred the dark-but-smooth 1993 version. But ultimately, the Vinegar Syndrome version won the day because it was sharper and revealed more background details. For instance, when the girl gang robs the ice cream joint, there's an oval-shaped neon sign in the window that reads "OPEN ICE CREAM." In the 1993 edition, this is just an indistinct ovular blob, but it's clear as day in the 2017 edition. Similarly, during the famous sequence in which Ed Wood (in full drag) robs a service station, there are signs advertising "ATLAS BATTERIES" and "RPM LUBRICATION" in the background. They're visible in both versions, but they're only legible in the 2017 version.

Another point in favor of the 2017 version is its soundtrack. The surviving footage for Hellborn is totally silent. One wonders what Ed Wood's plan would have been for completing the film. Stock music? Narration? Post-dubbed dialogue? It's a moot point, since the project was abandoned. The Cult Movies version from 1993 adds some tinny, lackluster synthesizer music to Ed's flickering, soundless footage. The score has a very distinct '80s/'90s sound and doesn't really match the footage at all. Meanwhile, Vinegar Syndrome chose to underscore Hellborn with some rambunctious 1950s rock music driven by saxophone, drums, and guitar. There's a snarling version of "MalagueƱa" that I especially enjoyed. If Hellborn's juvenile delinquent characters had been real, these are the records they might well have listened to!

I remain skeptical that Hellborn is a "lost masterpiece" or that it's of particular interest to anyone other than Wood completists. But, if you want it, it's out there to be found. In multiple places, no less!

Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 211: The incredible artwork of Shenandoah See (and my total failure as an Ed Wood fan)

I think this piece captures something essential about Tor Johnson.

In August 2021, I did what I had hoped never to do again: I returned to full-time office work. It seemed like my only option, since my freelance writing career was truly dead by then. I couldn't sell very many articles to editors, at least not enough to cover my monthly expenses, and Dad Made Dirty Movies: The Erotic World of Stephen C. Apostolof (2020), the book I'd authored with Jordan Todorov, wasn't exactly opening a lot of doors. Meanwhile, I needed medical insurance and a reliable source of rent money. It was time to go back to the only life I'd ever known.

Turns out, cubicle jobs like the ones I'd had in the '90s and '00s weren't as common in the 2020s—especially after the pandemic—but I found a reliable (if low-paying) position at a mortgage company and have stayed there for over three years. Since then, free time has become my most precious commodity, maybe the only thing I really treasure anymore. Every second away from that office is golden, even if I'm spending it in traffic or waiting in a checkout line.

Since time is my most/only valuable asset, I have to decide how to spend it wisely. Maintaining this blog is one of my main hobbies, but it's not the only one. Believe it or not, I have a life beyond Ed Wood. Since 2018, for instance, I have cohosted a podcast called These Days Are Ours that requires many hours of research and editing. I'm also a member of the Glenview Concert Band, an ensemble that rehearses and performs regularly. So I have at least three sirens calling out to me. But there is a fourth that outranks the others: the urge to do nothing at all. Often, when I drag myself home from work, all I want to do is stare blankly at the TV for a couple of hours and then crawl into bed without accomplishing a single thing.

I feel guilty about all this, because earnest, well-meaning people continue to email me with questions, comments, and suggestions—pretty much all of it related to Ed Wood. To be honest, I've barely skimmed most of this material. In many cases, these fine folks are working on books and documentaries of their own, and they want my input or participation. If I respond at all, it's usually something like, "Sounds interesting!" or "Keep me posted!" Some help I am, huh? 

One of the people emailing me lately is a talented writer and artist named Shenandoah See. Even though I have been shamefully lax in responding to his emails, he graciously said I could share some of his work however I see fit. This is how I see fit. Here is a little gallery of Shenandoah's work. I genuinely hope you enjoy it.

Tuesday, January 14, 2025

Podcast Tuesday: "Fonzie Circumnavigates His Own Cool"

Ralph (Don Most) screams at God from inside a loving cup.

Due to a lack of time and money, I travel very rarely these days. The last time I even left the state of Illinois was in 2023, when I visited relatives in Indiana for Christmas. And that's just one state over! But it's probably for the best that I stay put. I am, to be frank, not good at traveling. Everything about it discombobulates me. I also dislike being confined to any mode of transportation, like a train or a car, for an extended period of time. I start to feel confined and claustrophobic. I don't know how people deal with those monstrously long flights to Australia or New Zealand. I'd lose my mind.

Fortunately, there are plenty of domestic and international travelers who post about their adventures online, and I can live vicariously through them without having to go through customs. There are also numerous movies and TV shows about this topic, including the episode of The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang that we're reviewing this week on our podcast. In "Around the World in 80 Ways," which originally aired in November 1981, Fonzie (Henry Winkler) and his companions have to win a race around the globe so that they can claim a solid gold loving cup that happens to contain their time machine, which has been shrunk down to the size of a toy. How did the time machine get in there? Does it really matter? What matters is that Fonzie and friends visit New York, Paris, Shanghai, and more.

But does that equal a good half hour of television? Only one way to find out: listen to the latest installment of These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast.