By WILLIAM J. WRIGHT
One of the many perks of being RUE MORGUE’s online managing editor is that creators and companies send you stuff. Some of it is good, some of it is bad, and some of it is just plain weird. (Recently, I found an unsolicited 4K Blu-ray copy of Just Jaeckin’s (Emanuelle, The Story of O) 1980 “coming-of-age” film Girls in the post. It’s well-known that I truck in vampires, zombies, and masked killers. Why this came to me is a mystery, but it’s sure to get me on some kind of watchlist. So, Thanks? I guess.) At any rate, every trip to the mailbox is an adventure and a gamble. At any rate, it seems like a good idea to chronicle and catalog some of the horror-related highlights and maybe some of the lowlights of what I get in the mail on a near-weekly basis. Hence, an all-new column. Welcome to the Mailbox Massacre.
Tor Johnson can’t see your walls…
I’m not a voracious collector of anything genre-related or otherwise, and I haven’t been in a long time. I’m 54, I’m not quite hearing the thrum of the Reaper’s scythe, but at my age, I just don’t see the point. I can’t justify the cost or the encroachment on my space. My fandom’s mostly rooted in memories and stories. I’m reminded of an anecdote I read years ago about the late wrestler-turned B-movie monster icon Tor Johnson, who, upon visiting Famous Monsters of Filmland’s Forrest Ackerman’s home, the legendary Ackermansion, packed to the rafters with classic movie memorabilia, noted that you couldn’t “see the walls for all that crap.” As they say, “One man’s crap…”
Still, that’s not a knock against collecting or collectors. If it brings a smile to your face and you have the means, you do you, kid. I’m just not contributing to the inevitable Funko/Disney/George Lucas Memorial Landfill.
However, I do like records, and I have a modest library of vinyl – just stuff that appeals to me, ranging from Andy Williams and Burt Bacharach to The Misfits, Alice Cooper, and old Halloween records. I listen to records, but I don’t obsess too much over condition. I primarily dig the nostalgia element.
And that brings me to the package I received from Terror Vision Records just last week that contained the soundtracks for two 1980s cult horror favorites: The Pit and The Wraith. If you’re not familiar with Terror Vision Records, just know that this company is out there doing God’s work for horror fans, preserving what might otherwise be lost movie music for posterity’s sake, on colored vinyl and in stunning packaging. And its releases of The Pit and The Wraith are no exceptions. Although I’m not a fan of either film, these records are a sight to behold and, most importantly, a real feast for the ears.
Released in 1981, The Pit comes from that brief golden age of Canadian horror that brought us My Bloody Valentine and Happy Birthday to Me. It stars child actor Sammy Snyders, fresh from his turn as Tom Sawyer in the 1979 Canuck family TV series Huckleberry Finn and His Friends, as a preternaturally pervy 12-year-old named Jamie Benjamin, who goes through babysitters like most of us change socks. That might be enough plot material for some filmmakers, but director Lew Lehman and writer Ian A. Stewart throw in a (possibly) possessed teddy bear and the eponymous pit that’s home to Jamie’s special friends, a cadre of carnivorous, troll-like “trollologs.” Is it all real? Is it just Jamie’s disturbed psyche? I don’t know. The Pit just makes me want to take a hot shower – with the door locked. The film has its share of fans, though, and with good reason. It’s beautifully shot and has a supremely satisfying conclusion.
One of the most appealing elements of the film is its on-the-nose orchestral score by composer Victor Davies, lovingly mastered by Terror Vision from the source tapes for this special vinyl release. Reminiscent of the work of Bernard Herman, Davies’ score is whimsical, suspenseful, and eerie, perfectly capturing the film’s tone. It’s the kind of soundtrack that you rarely hear in modern horror films, serving and enhancing the visuals without being distracting. It’s old-school in the best way possible. Davies, one of Canada’s most respected composers, provides insightful liner notes, detailing the composition of specific themes for Jamie and the trollologs, instrumentation, and the film’s musical vocabulary.
Pressed on swirled, colored vinyl, the soundtrack is available in four limited-edition variants: “Teddy’s Eyes,” white and dark red in salmon; “Jamie’s Dream,” deep blue with light blue swirls; “Depths of the Pit,” purple and white swirls; and the record club exclusive “Trog’s Lair” variant, in white, dark red and salmon. (Terror Vision sent me the Trog’s Lair vinyl, which, to me, looks like a really nice tortoise shell.) The outer gatefold sleeve opens to reveal original art by illustrator Jim Secula. Terror Vision also tossed in another record club exclusive, a black-and-white Pit mini comic that’s sort of a storybook retelling of the film’s basic plot. All in all, The Pit soundtrack is a great package. If you’re a fan of the movie or great horror scores in general, it’s essential.
Terror Vision also threw in its newly released soundtrack from The Wraith, the 1986 cult favorite starring a pre-Tiger Blood Charlie Sheen as a vengeful reincarnated street racer in a phantom Dodge M4S Turbo Interceptor. The film is total ’80s cheese, but Sheen in this era was always engaging and fun to watch.
Like the movie, the soundtrack is definitely a product of its time. Michael Hoenig and J. Peter Robinson‘s (Wes Craven’s New Nightmare, Return of the Living Dead Part II) score is a sonic wall of driving synths and ambient drones. However, be warned, this release, its first on physical media, is the score only. None of the now-classic rock hits that pepper the movie are included, so don’t expect to hear Ozzy, Mötley Crüe or Billy Idol on this disc. I suggest you assemble your own mix (on cassette, of course) to complete your Wraith aural experience. Dust off your Oakleys and take the ride. Winning.
The Wraith Original Motion Picture Soundtrack is another typically impressive package from Terror Vision, with a beautiful gatefold cover, inside of which you’ll find a dramatic, lightning-swathed pic of the film’s real star, the blacked-out Turbo Interceptor. Liner notes from the film’s composers complete the package.
Like The Pit LP, The Wraith is available in an assortment of limited-run colored vinyl options: Interceptor Blur, Hyper Speed Timeshift, Desert Fog Transcendence and the record club exclusive Turbocharged Aura.
Terror Vision also threw in some oddball bonuses, including one of those wacky, heat-reactive fortune teller fish and some silly stix candy, just for fun. Click here to get your The Pit or The Wraith soundtrack LPs, but hurry, they are moving fast.
And that’s what I found in my mailbox last week. Beats the hell out of a subpoena, another bill or a dead gopher.
NEXT TIME: A putrid parcel from across the pond!
Do you have a horror-themed product you’d like featured in MAILBOX MASSACRE? Email me at william@rue-morgue.con to get it in my scabrous claws. I can’t guarantee I’ll like everything, but I’ll certainly write about it.
