By WILLIAM J. WRIGHT

Here’s lurking at you, monster kids!

Joe Moe may not be a household name, even to hardcore horror fans, but if you’re a card-carrying monster kid, a rabid devotee of classic era greats like Bride of Frankenstein and The Wolfman, weaned on the dark, rotogravure delights of the original Famous Monsters of Filmland Magazine, you likely know him as the right-hand man, caretaker and best friend of the late Forrest J Ackerman. 

Forrest J Ackerman

For the young and uninitiated, Ackerman, known to generations of genre fans as Uncle Forry (or by any of his litany of self-ascribed monikers like 4SJ, 4e, the Ackermonster, or Dr. Acula), was the much beloved and occasionally problematic editor of the aforementioned Famous Monsters from 1958 to the magazine’s ignoble demise in 1983. Under Ackerman, Famous Monsters shepherded generations of horrorphiles from the drive-in to the grindhouse, with such luminaries as Stephen King, John Landis, Guillermo del Toro, Stephen Spielberg and George Lucas claiming the magazine and its charismatic editor-in-chief as influences. However, Ackerman’s reach went far beyond those with creative aspirations. Credited with coining the term “sci-fi” as shorthand for science fiction, Ackerman is largely considered the father of modern genre fandom, championing fan conventions and collecting decades before the public’s current obsession with “nerd culture.” At Ackerman’s side in the Ackermansion (the legendary movie prop-packed L.A. home that became a Mecca for monster fans) during the final decades of his life was the ever-faithful Joe Moe.

A native Hawaiian, Joseph “Joe” Moe is the son of legendary Polynesian knife dancer and artist Josefa Moe and his wife, Marilyn. Art and culture run deep in the Moe family. His paternal grandparents, Pula and Louisa, were Hawaiian music royalty who toured with Felix Mendelssohn’s Hawaiian Serenaders, renowned for bringing Polynesian music and culture to Europe and Asia in the early 20th century. Joe Moe inherited his family’s creative inclinations and respect for their native culture, but his love of what Forry described as “Imagimovies” would take him in a vastly different direction and across the Pacific to Hollywood. Recently, Joe Moe sat down with RUE MORGUE to candidly discuss his amazing life, his new gig as Bonhams Fine Art Auctioneers & Valuers‘ pop culture expert and his years with Uncle Forry. 

Young Joe Moe and Uncle Forry at one of countless con appearances

Mighty Joe Moe! It’s always a pleasure. Let’s talk about your new job. You were with Profiles in History as a cataloger and consignment specialist in their entertainment and music department for many years, and you’ve now moved on to Bonhams as their pop culture specialist. When people think of Bonhams, fine art and antiques are what generally come to mind. Tell me about Bonhams’ interest in science fiction and horror memorabilia and what your job as a pop culture specialist entails.

Sure, you know, look at you! You’re doing your impression of Forry. Now, I’m doing mine! We’re so inspired by that whole [classic monster] era, it seemed like a natural fit for me to go to Profiles in History, which was at the time, the top Hollywood memorabilia auction house – the purveyors of all of that good stuff. So I already had a really great background in the material because I lived with Forry all those years. So I’d seen the best of the best beside the best of the best to tell us about it. I sort of developed my vocabulary there. I was primarily the catalog editor and wrote a lot of the descriptions. Profiles was bought by Heritage Auctions, which is a juggernaut of an auction company in Dallas. And after a couple of years there, I just started snooping around because I came from Profiles where we could do everything – we had our fingers in everything. Heritage is like a machine. It’s so gigantic. I just felt like the curating of the material and the stuff that I like to do best, I could probably do better in an intimate environment… 

So I came to Bonhams, which is like the pinnacle of international prestige, they’ve got such a great name. They’re one of the top three. And they encouraged me. They basically said, “Look, we are generalists/specialists in Hollywood and music, but you’re a generalist/specialist in Hollywood from the beginning of time to contemporary titles, and you love the genre. That is what they really wanted to approach. Now the nice thing about Bonhams, and one of the things that makes it different, is that I’m able to do a couple of sales a year that can be 500 lot sales as opposed to these 800 to 1200 lot sales and the constant grind. So I feel like I can give all of the pieces in an auction attention, the kind of attention that the more gigantic departments can only assign to the top 10% of the material that’s there. 

The always dapper Joe Moe

I also have an opportunity to do my favorite thing, as you know, one of our favorite things to do is to share the hobby and to share an interest in the material. So for me getting to bring in things that are something for everybody. Maybe you can’t afford Frankenstein’s neck bolts, but you can afford a call sheet that has a coffee stain on it that was on that set … You know, you can sell coins when you know what a $22 million coin is worth. And you know what a comic is worth. But this stuff is not quantifiable. We’re selling these vessels of memories. That’s the magic of the entertainment and pop culture department. 

In the old days, studios considered props disposable junk. Of course, collecting is big business now. Why did it take the world so long to catch on?

I think there are a couple of things [that led to that]. I think that when [Famous Monsters publisher] Uncle Jim Warren created terms like “collector’s item” I think that sort of everything became collectible. So I think that people started collecting very commercial objects and items. Now, all of our top collectors are also movers and shakers in the business – you know who they are because they’re so generous with their collections, as was their Uncle Forry. You know, the Guillermo del Toros – all these great filmmakers who also collect and know their history. 

It’s just only become richer and more valuable as we’ve gotten into a 20-year period where the people at the top of the food chain making films are looking back over their shoulder and sort of telling the kids this is where I came from, you know. Like Steven Spielberg looking back at Willis O’Brien and Ray Harryhausen and their work as their Jurassic Park – and the same with Peter Jackson. People are always trying to connect the narrative line, that filament that connects us all to those movies [in which] everybody was dead by the time we were born. We never had a chance to meet Lon Chaney, but Forry Ackerman took us back. He said, “I did, and here’s what I want you to know. And what do you want to know? Well, I saw London After Midnight. This is how he walked.” There’s this incredible fandom and family that loves the history and loves this stuff and wants to make this stuff.

For the longest time, it seemed as if only Forry and Bob Burns saw much value in this stuff.

Joe Moe wants you for the monster kid army

Yeah. I mean, kids were collecting, too. Believe me, I get things that are coming for the first time to market that were collected by some of these kids back in the day who have held on to this stuff and are now deciding to let it go. Inevitably, when I meet a fellow monster brother or sister who’s having trouble parting with their stuff, I always tell them what Forry said. And I tell them, one day, I went up to Forry, and he had sold something because sometimes that kept bread on the table. I said, “Forry, how can you stand to part with these things?” And Forry says, “Well, pal, I’ve taken care of it for a long time. Now it can take care of me.” And everybody sort of goes, that’s true. You know, that makes the separation a little bit easier for some people.

What is the most exciting piece of history to pass through your hands in your work?   

Well, you know, there’s so much of it. I mean, the very first thing –, let’s go sci-fi/fantasy just for the heck of it. The very first thing I was handed to catalog was Hampton Fancher’s copy of the Philip K. Dick book Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep that he dog eared to make Blade Runner. I’m looking through his handwritten notes in this paperback that’s falling apart, and it’s like the genesis of it. Another literary one is William Peter Blatty’s manuscript of The Exorcist with all of his annotations as he was adapting it to the screenplay. Just incredible pieces of history. Like you, aside from the result, I love what went into the making of these things.

I would imagine that as a writer yourself, something like Blatty’s notes would be of particular interest to you. Do you find yourself more attracted to ephemeral things rather than props or other items?

I find that the historical significance of it is undeniable. But you know, like many of the kids today and like many of our generation, I’m really an effects guy, and I did try to start out in effects. So aside from doing the experiments and destroying my mother’s carpet back in Hawaii with the R&D foam latex kit and modeling clay in the microwave, when I came here from Hawaii to California, the big, bad, scary mainland, I really tried to try to make inroads and some people know that I went to Don Post, and I sculpted a mask for them. And I did some work in theater and prosthetic work. I went to UCLA, and I did some workshops with Michael Westmore. I really tried to make a run at it. 

So I do have an affection for the stuff, the props, the pieces, and I think I have that in common with people like Guillermo [del Toro] – people that make a movie and after the maquettes are done, they’re practically done with the movie. They’re like, “I’ve got this thing!” you know. But yes, I tend to gravitate towards the literature and the stuff that was the spark that created the ultimate film, but I also love the tactile stuff that you can put your hands on … That stuff is just so exciting as well.

As far as props and those tactile things go, what’s something that you’ve looked at and said, “I really can’t believe I have my hands on this?”

You know, one thing that was really fun – it’s not so much a prop, but you’ll appreciate it. For one sale, I had a beautiful presentation box that had Edgar Allan Poe’s wedding ring, a spoon and a lock of his hair. At the same time, we had Bram Stoker’s writing desk. When I was alone in the office, you can bet I took those things out and put them together so that I could introduce Bram Stoker to Edgar Allan Poe! That’s an exciting thing you get to do when you’re handling this stuff.

Sigourney Weaver’s flamethrower from Aliens was a pretty exciting one. And the helmet from Gort from The Day the Earth Stood Still. And the old stuff that’s lasted so well. It’s incredible! Makeup pieces don’t last that well, but I’ve got to handle some of them.

Joe Moe and friend(s)

Let’s go way back. How did you as a young kid from Hawaii surrounded by all that natural beauty and rich culture get hooked on monsters and horror movies?

Well, I had the right father and mother. My mother was totally supportive of everything I wanted to do. Totally. You know, you want to be a creative person? Go do it. Just do a good job at it. My dad was kind of a tribal person. He was a knife dancer and an entertainer, and my grandparents and granduncles were very famous in Hawaiian music. They’re pioneers. My dad was raised in a British boarding school, so he had more of the traditional vaudeville entertainer kind of experience. He was in love with movies. 

To give you an idea of how much my dad was in love with movies, I remember I must have been in second grade, it was right after lunch – I think we were at naptime. All of a sudden, there was a stir, and people started looking, and I saw this big shadow. I immediately knew it was my dad, and I started getting wobbly-lipped. “What happened to mom?” He said, “Son, come.” This brown guy with this English accent says, “Son, come. We’re going.” And I got up and he put me in the blue Falcon station wagon with my brother. He drove, and I said, “What are we doing?” He says, “I went to see the opening of this movie called Planet of the Apes, and it’s so fabulous that I left in the middle to come get you for the next show.” So that’s how much my dad loved movies, you know. And it was at a time when there were no ratings. So when I was 9, I saw a double bill of Candy and The Wild Bunch. 

As a kid, to see all of that stuff before you really know how it’s done, it just instilled in me a love of filmmaking. I saw it as a magic trick that I wanted to figure out how to do. When it comes to horror, specifically, I guess I would say I come from monster movies. To me, those movies, whether it’s the old silents, like the Chaney silents, or Karloff’s Frankenstein. James Whale – a brilliant artist. They seem to have the most of everything in them. The most craft, the most art. And some of the most intense emotional content. I’ve always said that in horror, you actually relate to the victim, the creator and the monster at different times. That’s an incredible experience. Talk about getting immersed and relating to a story! It’s in spades. It’s got everything. Then, of course, creating creatures that never were out of nothing and transforming – that was always a magical thing to me. 

Were you one of those kids like me who grew up addicted to the late show? I remember marking up the TV Guide every week. “There’s a Hammer movie on at midnight on Friday. Can’t miss it.” 

My nemesis was Bride of Frankenstein. Yeah, it was always the same thing. 12 o’clock Creature Feature in Hawaii, which was even probably rarer than on the mainland, and even in the rural areas of the mainland. So I try to stay up. This was sometimes a school night, and it was the same thing. You know, there’s Hans and he’s rooting around, the Monster’s hand comes up and pulls him down. And then, all of a sudden, there’s a test pattern because I had fallen asleep! I never got to see the movie. You know, I saw the first five minutes of the movie three or four times as a child. So imagine when I was finally old enough to go to revival houses or to the colleges when they screened stuff? Before VHS, right? Long before. And that’s part of the cool thing about Famous Monsters and Forry because not only were there weird, freaky faces for us to get afraid of and inspired by, but Forry sort of told us what happened in the movies in his film books, paragraph by paragraph – this happens, that happens. And so since we were kids, and we couldn’t go to a revival house, and we couldn’t find it on TV, that was our experience of the story. And it’s all in that vessel.

Everybody loves a clown

Was there one particular movie that turned the crank for you? Like a “road to Damascus” moment that transformed you into a monster kid?

You know, as a little kid, I think it was some kind of Frankenstein movie because all I remember was this big square-headed monster carrying a woman in silhouette over a hill, and the woman was screaming in the most disturbing way I’ve ever heard. It was almost like a siren. It stuck with me and gave me nightmares. And that’s probably all of the movie that I saw. 

When I really was inspired, it was Famous Monsters telling me these are the people who make the movies. As Uncle Forry and  Jim Warren turned the spotlight from the stars to the people behind the camera, people who would become famous, like Rick Baker, for example, went, “Oh, it’s not the mad doctors, it’s the makeup artists that make monsters!” And for me, it was the same thing. Oh, these are the guys that make these things I love. And then, seeing Planet of the Apes, I was sold. I was just like, makeup has reached a pinnacle. I can do that. And I want to do that. 

Be sure to check back soon for the second part of our exclusive interview with Joe Moe. We’re going to get candid about his life with Forrest Ackerman in a “warts and all” conversation about the man, his legacy and the controversies.