Six Metal Musicians Acting in Horror Films

Trick_or_TreatThere are two things you might expect to scream like banshees — heavy metal screamers and well, banshees.  Horror and metal share an affinity for the macabre and both frequently subject their audiences to unimaginable abuse (check out this toe-tapper Day 69 by the death metal band Decapitated) and both receive critical drubbings in the press. Metal’s earliest practitioners (Black Sabbath / Alice Cooper) dabbled in creepy imaginary and spree killers rarely point to the music of Bill Withers as having set them off. Here are examples of a match made in hell: metal musicians acting in horror films:

1. Gene Simmons and 2. Ozzy Osbourne in Trick or Treat

This 80s schlocker is the cinematic equivalent of ordering 6 McNuggets, opening up the lid and finding 8 since you get two rockers for the price of one. The film features both the God of Thunder and the Prince of Darkness well before they shed their last remnants of dignity alongside their wives on reality TV.

You also get Mark Price, better known as Skippy from Family Ties. Skippy, sporting a fairly-impressive mullet, plays headbanger Eddie who is obsessed with devil-worshipping, snake-fellating rocker Sammi Curr. When Sammi dies mysteriously, Eddie summons the rocker back from the dead to do a little shouting with the devil (as an aside, WASP’s Blackie Lawless was originally slated for the role, but probably had a good agent).

Now think of the brillo-pad headed, plastic surgery nightmare that is Gene Simmons of today. Got it? Good. Now erase that horror and replace it with the lean, mean Animalize/Asylum era Gene who was just starting to loosen his grasp on the plot rather than letting it go completely. That’s the Gene you get in Trick or Treat.

trick_or_treat_OzzySimmons plays Nuke, a radio DJ who gives Eddie the only copy of Curr’s last and only unreleased album, “Songs in the Key of Death (Stevie Wonder probably didn’t see that one coming, nor that jokes about his sight would have this much staying power) and Gene actually acquits himself rather well. He’s cool, emotive and seems genuinely enthused to be there. The same cannot be said about his portly presence on the last three or four KISS tours.

Ozzy, on the other hand, has about two minutes of screen time playing Rev. Aaron Gilstrom, an evangelist and moral crusader who hates rock music. Still, Oz makes the most of his brief screen time by delivering a virtuoso performance worthy of…ah, who am I kidding here? This is Ozzy! He merely stares blankly while blathering semi-coherent drivel, recreating, by all accounts, how he behaved for most of the late 80s. For a more horrific Osbourne performance, see him cooking bacon in his bathrobe in The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years.

TromeoJulietPoster3. Lemmy in Tromeo and Juliet

Lemmy Kilminster is, of course, the lead singer/shouter/bassist (and only constant member) of power trio Motorhead. Lemmy has been called “heavy metal personified [in] a single person.” Best known for Ace of Spades, Motorhead has been ripping out ferocious metal since 1977. Moterhead’s best songs such as Jailbait, (We are) The Road Crew, Overkill and Iron First tear out of speakers at a breakneck pace.

Troma is North America’s longest-running independent studio known for churning out and distributing decidedly non-PC films chock-a-block with gratuitous nudity, relentless violence and nauseating gore. Many dismiss Troma films as grade-Z filmmaking, but in doing so they overlook the sly social commentary and biting satire underlying many offerings.

Lemmy has appeared in a number of Troma films including Terror Firmer and Citizen Toxie. He has never asked for a single red-cent for acting in any one of them. Instead, his only two requests are a bottle of Maker’s Mark and two “Tromettes” to talk to whilst filming.

His most memorable role is in what is arguably Troma’s best flick, Tromeo and Juliet. In this twisted punk adaptation of the Bard, Lemmy serves as the narrator, spouting iambic pentameter in his own inimitable mole-y, marble-mouthed way. In doing so, Lemmy adds a further touch of crass to a film just oozing with it.

Monster_dog_4. Alice Cooper in Monster Dog

If there’s one rocker whose name is synonymous with horror, it’s Alice Cooper. Cooper, the granddaddy of shock rock, is credited as the artist who “first introduced horror imagery to rock n’roll, and whose stagecraft and showmanship have permanently transformed the genre”. Cooper was singing about dead babies and feeding Frankensteins and dismembering mannequins, decapitating furry green monsters and sacrificing chickens while Marilyn Manson was still pooping in his diapers. Thus, if only one rocker were to make the jump to horror flicks, it had to be the Coop.

And indeed, Cooper made an indelible impression in John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness, playing a schizophrenic vagrant possessed by the concentrated essence of Satan. Cooper also appeared uncredited in Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare, playing the father of ol’ pizza-face himself.

Less noted is Monster Dog from 1984, a Spanish/Italian co-production in which a short-haired Copper plays pop-star Vince Raven who returns to his hometown to shoot a video. Unfortunately, his hometown happens to be plagued by werewolves. The film was shot at a time when Cooper’s life and career were in a period of stasis; following his alcoholism-induced hospitalization where he nearly died but before his triumphant 1986 Constrictor comeback. The newly-sober Cooper seems game but the movie is a poorly-conceived and produced mess. Amazingly, Cooper did not re-record his lines for the English-language version of the film. Instead, his speaking voice is provided by the milquetoast-sounding Winnipegger Ted Rusoff. Fun Fact: The director of Monster Dog, Claudio Fragasso, later went on to co-write and direct “Best Worst Movie” Troll 2.

rock_n_roll_nightmare5. Jon Mikl Thor in Rock N’ Roll Nightmare

Ever heard of Jon Mikl Thor? Even here in his native Canada, Thor remains somewhat of a *ahem* fringe figure in the world of metal. Bodybuilder turned frontman of the band that bears his surname; Jon Mikl parlayed a passing resemblance to the Marvel comic Norse God character (really just a flowing blond mane and not much else) into a two-decade plus music career.

Thor the band were known less for their hits and more for the on-stage antics of their charismatic (perhaps psychotic) lead singer who would bend solid steel bars with his teeth and have solid concrete blocks smashed off his chest with a sledgehammer.

In 1987, Jon Mikl starred in Rock N’ Roll Nightmare, a straight-to video Canuck horror film that, true to its name, is quite the nightmare. Shot in 10 days for only $50,000, Rock N’ Roll Nightmare begins with a dollar-store skeleton popping out of an oven and ends with a battle between nothing less than the twin forces of heaven and hell themselves. In Hell’s corner is a satanic marionette while heaven is represented by an oil-slathered Thor, clad in little more than a black studded cod-piece and a smile. As one watches the two writhe and flail about in a sweaty struggle for dominion eternal, one begins to ponder the benefits of atheism. Required viewing for aficionados of astoundingly inept cinema, autumnal northern Ontario scenery and manly men wearing copious amounts of mousse and makeup.

strangeland6. Dee Snider in Strangeland

Dee of course, is best known for Twisted Sister and playing foil to robber baron Donald Trump on The Apprentice.

He’s also known for his spirited, articulate defence of the First Amendment along with the inimitable Frank Zappa in a high-level tilt against a censorious Senate hearing committee, seeking to place warning labels on metal.

In Strangeland, he plays Captain Howdy (a tribute to The Exorcist?), a mysterious chat-room “student” who’s into:

a) body modification, b) sadism and c) luring unwitting teens into his torture chambers.

He’s captured and institutionalized by the cop dad of one of the victims, does his time and is then declared no danger to the community as long as he’s on his meds. But upon his release, he’s not exactly welcomed with open arms by townsfolk and mayhem ensues.

Based loosely on the Twisted Sister song “Horror-Teria” from their album “Stay Hungry.”

A History of Horror Films: Nightmares in Red, White and Blue

Nightmares_in_RedWhy is the horror genre such a successful phenomenon? The Howling and Piranha director Joe Dante puts it bluntly: “they’re about how we cope with death.”

Nightmares in Red, White and Blue describes how horror has mutated over time, but how it continues to reflect cultural fears and anxieties back to us.

Offering a strictly chronological approach to the history of horror, the documentary takes us from the Lon Chaney era, horror’s first bona fide star, who in the Roaring Twenties portrayed ordinary men beset by traumas beyond their control. The Man of A Thousand Faces, “acted out our psyches”, according to writer Ray Bradbury.

We learn that George Romero, “sympathized with the monsters” and that German expressionism greatly influenced Roger Corman, particularly the metaphysical approach of films like M, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and of course, Nosferatu.

Nosferatu_SchreckIn 101 Horror Movies You Must See Before You Die, Ernest Mathijs rightly says “never has there been a more spine-chilling specimen than Max Shreck’s Count Orlok, with his crooked fangs, deformed ears, narrow shoulders, hunched, skinny frame, stretched, bony fingers, and hypnotic stare.”

Genre classics like Cat People and Wolfman, reflected repressed sexuality and puberty motifs respectively, the former involving a hero, Irena, who is descended from panther people and develops a killer instinct when sexually aroused (hard not to think of Anchorman when you think of feline pheromones: “a special cologne… It’s called Sex Panther…It’s illegal in nine countries… Yep, it’s made with bits of real panther, so you know it’s good.”)

The Cold War ushered in nuclear monster movies, films like Tarantula, with its atomic isotope gone wrong theme, creating the title insect in a nuclear cautionary tale. Them! involved gigantic irradiated ants found in the New Mexico desert (that state of course, was famous for the Trinity nuclear test of 1945, the first of its kind and part of the Manhattan Project).

Susan Sontag suggests that these films were an “inadequate response” to major socio-political issues, an objection also levied against vigilante “this city has gone down the crapper” movies from the 80s.  And Andrew Tudor of York University said nuclear movies “glorified government as a bastion of elites uniquely capable of providing for our defense.”

Psycho (1960) was dubbed the true antecedent of the modern horror film, in which it wasn’t external factors like radiation or explorations of gothic horror that carried the day like in the two decades prior, but the mundane. In this case, a seemingly average guy who ran an inn, Norman Bates.

Blood Feast followed in Psycho’s transgressive steps, upping the gore ante with viscera and torn out tongues. As we’ve said on this site, Blood Feast broke down barriers and changed perceptions of its genre forever as horror competed with the real-life violence of Vietnam war footage in grim one-upmanship.

Night of the Living Dead (1968) carried over the senselessness and randomness of Psycho, as that “a bastion of elites” were of no help to lone zombie survivor Ben.

Senselessness reached its apotheosis in Grindhouse cinema in the 70s, the decade that brought us the likes of The Hills Have Eyes and Last House on the Left, films that combined monsters with serial killer realism. “Who the hell are they?” was the question famously asked in Dawn of the Dead to which the retort was “they’re us.” As it’s routinely said of serial killers, they’re very average and blend right in.

maniac803bigIn a not entirely convincing part of it Nightmares in Red, White and Blue, the film makers posit that 80s Reaganomics was a driving force behind slasher films, which, as some authors have put it, feature protagonists who feel they’ve been slighted or sidelined/marginalized and seek revenge. Movies like Maniac (a site favorite not mentioned in the documentary), Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, Friday the 13th, Halloween, etc., are seen as lonely outcast embodiments of failed social policy. The 80s action film / political link is a much stronger one (Death Wish series for example), whereas horror simply got more violent with each passing decade, possibly reflecting the rise to prominence of killers such as Charles Manson, Son of Sam and Ted Bundy (Helter Skelter was a bestseller in 1974 and Son of Sam began plying his grim trade a year later). [Editors’ note: Cultural interpretation of horror is a tricky business. An example from the film is Invasion of the Body Snatchers, which could be read both as a response to a Red Scare as well as a paean to rugged individualism]

Freddy_KruegerThe 90s brought us more of the “killer with the human face”, the likes of American Psycho, Silence of the Lambs, Seven, etc., while the Jigsaw killer of the Saw movies in the 2000s, was a more overt moral judge than his 80s forbears , offering victims choices of sorts (mutilate themselves before he got to them) rather than the “vice, slice and dice” approach of Messrs. Krueger and Voorhees. One critic called Saw 2 “Vilely violent…the Phnom Penh of splatter movies.” No argument here. One wonders whether they got around to seeing the Mengele-inspired grotesqueries of The Human Centipede franchise.

There’s a tenuous link made between post-9/11 fears and the xenophobic subtext in Hostel,  and not enough emphasis on our hometown favorite David Cronenberg’s body horror, but these are minor quibbles. Nightmares is still a fascinating peek behind the curtain at how the horror genre has changed with the times.

To quote the hilariously excellent Re-Animator, “who’s going to believe a talking head?” so the filmmakers wisely leave the commentary in the capable hands of John Carpenter, George Romero and Tom McLoughlin.

***1/2 (out of 5)