Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 282: 'Edward D. Wood, Jr.: A Man and His Films' (1981) [PART 1]

A remarkable fan creation from the early 1980s.

We may think we want to travel back in time, but we probably wouldn't like the past very much once we got there. For one thing, we're so reliant on modern-day technology that it would be incredibly frustrating to be without it for any extended length of time. I can remember how cumbersome research used to be when I was in school. To write just one term paper on the Old English poet Cynewulf, for example, I had to check out a whole stack of books from the college library. Today, all that precious Cynewulf knowledge would be at my fingertips whenever I wanted it.

This entire series of articles about Edward Davis Wood, Jr. (1924-1978) would not be remotely possible without the internet and the ability to access decades of video, audio, and text instantly. I marvel at the work of writers who did their research during the low-tech, pre-internet days. How did they do it? More than a decade before Rudolph Grey's Nightmare of Ecstasy (1992), a couple of dedicated Wood fans in California named Randy Simon and Harold Benjamin assembled and self-published a chapbook about their favorite director called Edward D. Wood, Jr.: A Man and His Films (1981). Though crude by today's standards—the pictures are xeroxed, the text is typewritten—it remains a priceless souvenir of early '80s fan culture and a remarkable example of Wood scholarship.

This 32-page guidebook to Ed Wood's film career declares itself "a publication of The Edward D. Wood Jr. Film Appreciation Society." So what the hell is that? Did the EDWJFAS do anything else besides this? Well, maybe. In an article from the September 8, 1981 issue of The Soho News, film critic Jonathan Rosenbaum mentions the EDWJFAS in his dual review of Ferdinando Baldi's 3D Western Comin' at Ya! (1981) and Gus Trikonis' rowdy comedy Take This Job and Shove It (1981). He says that the organization has formed "recently" and "produced a marathon screening and monograph." The writer suggests that audiences are sick of middlebrow mainstream fare such as Kramer vs. Kramer (1979) and are taking solace in pure trash. Rosenbaum is in favor of this.

When interviewing 'Star Wars' superfans goes very wrong

Amanda Avery shoots the camera a look during her interview with this model builder.

I don't know why, exactly, but I've been watching a lot of YouTube videos about Star Wars toys and the people who collect them lately. I don't collect Star Wars memorabilia myself; in fact, I try not to collect anything these days. It eats up money, and I don't have the space for it anyway. I'm not even a Star Wars fanatic. I grew up with the movies and still enjoy them, but they're not essential to my life. I even waited a whole week before seeing The Force Awakens. In recent years, I've become deeply ambivalent towards so-called "geek" or "fanboy" culture in general. I don't go to conventions or do any sort of model making or cosplay. I've been called a nerd many times in my life, but I don't identify with real nerds, the ones who know all the trivia and have pristine collections of mint-on-card action figures. I can't keep up with those guys and don't want to try.

So why do I watch Star Wars toy videos? For one, I love to hear people patiently explain things to me, as long as it's not about anything serious. Nothing about the news or health or finances. Just silly stuff. That's why I frequently watch product reviews for as-seen-on-TV gadgets I would never think of purchasing. It doesn't matter if I really care about the subject, just as long as the host or narrator cares about it. And that's what you get with Star Wars collectors. They can talk on and on, usually in a very calm and zen-like manner, about the various figures, playsets, and vehicles in their possession. A particular favorite of mine is Micahc6v8, who seems to have gone AWOL a couple of years ago. Those videos were my gateway drug into the world of Star Wars fandom on YouTube. Another great channel is The Budget Jedi, where the host only collects less-expensive, more-recent figures and builds homemade dioramas to display them. These clips are extremely soothing to me.

But sometimes, it can all go wrong. As proof, I just discovered a video in which a young woman named Amanda Avery interviews a Star Wars superfan who has built a gigantic, movie-accurate model of the Death Star in his North Carolina garage. To say the least, there is a profound disconnect between these two people. This plays like an extremely subtle but devastating Saturday Night Live skit, something that cringe-loving weirdo Kyle Mooney might have cooked up for the coveted "ten to one" slot. I can find no evidence that this was staged or scripted. For all I know, it's genuine. The model builder seems to take no joy whatsoever in his creation, and the hostess cannot help but roll her eyes at the camera throughout the conversation. What's more amazing is that this was the second attempt at filming a conversation between these two people. I repeat: This was Take 2. Amanda Avery is pilloried in the comments, but I think some viewers will sympathize with her. In a way, I sympathize with both of these people.

Anyway, I don't want to oversell this. Just watch. Thanks.

I'm so fan-cy! You already know!

Gotta say, I am looking buff in this photograph. All those years of inertia have really paid off.

Is there any greater thrill in this life than having parcels delivered to your door? I came home from work today to find a large cardboard box parked in front of my apartment. I already knew what it was: my super-fancy new ionizing tower fan. I am unreasonably excited about this.

Let me explain. 

I just celebrated my 10-year anniversary at my job. It's actually more like eleven, but they don't count the time when I was a temp. Before this job, my all-time record for staying at one place of employment was just under a year. (And that was as a customer service rep. Blergh.) 

Anyway, as a token of its esteem, the company I work for now lets you pick a prize out of a catalog when you pass a significant milestone. There were watches, golf clubs, headphones, and even tablets in there, but my eyes went straight to the electric fan. You see, I'm one of those people who leaves a fan running pretty much all the time when I'm home, even during the winter. The droning noise helps me get to sleep. When I visit my relatives, I even travel with a mini fan. 

I've owned a succession of box fans, going all the way back to my adolescent days. The most recent was, until this afternoon, parked somewhat precariously on a desk next to my bed. It'll soon be headed to my storage unit in the basement. There's a new sheriff in town, so to speak. My deluxe new fan has a remote control and a timer and a feature which supposedly "freshens" the air. Plus it looks like one of the lesser droids from Star Wars -- you know, the ones that served as background extras and didn't have fully fleshed-out personalities. 

I must say, I was also rather amused by the promotional text on the packaging, which reads like free verse. (Note: I will try to preserve the punctuation and capitalization of the original text.)

Why Buy a Fan?

Create a Wind Chill

Circulate Air Conditioning

Bring Fresh Air In

Dispel Stale Air & Odor

Use for Only Pennies a Day

Get Comfortable!

Why use a Tower Fan with Fresh Air Ionizer?

Fresher Air -- the built-in ionizer adds

millions of negative ions to the air,

creating a fresh air feeling

like the great outdoors.

Why does the air feel fresher?

An ionizer generates negative ions

and disperses

them to combat and dispel air pollution.

As the negative ion levels grow, 

the air feels naturally fresher.

Most effective when used

4 feet from Surrounding Walls and Furniture.

Now, I'm pretty sure most of that is L. Ron Hubbard/Dianetics-level bullshit, but I don't really care. It's true to the extent that I believe it. This is my new religion, I guess. Yes, I believe in the "millions of negative ions" even though I can't see them or detect them in any tangible or measurable way. But I still won't be following the "four feet from surrounding walls and furniture" advice. I'm not going to have this thing in the middle of the room like it's the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. I'm clumsy as hell, and I know I'd run into it like Dagwood Bumstead every day. So I'm taking my new three-speed God and placing Him in the corner where he damned well belongs.