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Hey, there!

Yeah, it’s been a few weeks, during which time we’ve done (by the time you read this very missive) no less than FIVE recorded shows (not to mention the research and what have you that precedes same), and begun research on two further ones (closing out Season 11 and kicking off the first few shows of Season 12) over at Weird Scenes.

While we’ve been getting all our ducks in a row on this end, gathering and sorting incoming materials for future Roundup Reviews (and continuing our surprising rally of dynamic electricity over at Weird Scenes – all editing for release is on hold for the forseeable future as we work up a rather huge backlog of upcoming shows on that front), it seemed a good time to remind everyone that we haven’t gone anywhere (quite the opposite, in fact) and drop something of note over on this end.

As such, we’ve gathered a rather large backlog of short form film reviews, chats on music and, yes, a surprising number of tributes to notables we’ve lost over the last year or two, that we’d previously shared over at the Facebook page.

As there were so many folks impacted, this first release will be dedicated to the dead, if we may be so direct – those from all walks of entertainment who inspired us to speak out and draw attention to their passing, for all those who may have missed ’em (in both senses of the word.)

So without further ado…shall we begin the procession?

A passing of note. But “genius” is REALLY pushing it. *

* this was shared in response to a knee jerk “populist” obituary cum hagiography from certain mainstream news sources, the most obnoxious of which did in fact use that term even as a title to such, thereby proving they’d never actually sat through a Godard film.

Aside from the interesting Contempt with Brigitte Bardot, Fritz Lang and a coked up Jack Palance (interspersed with interminable gel-shaded shots of statues for no reason whatsoever – but at least there’s a vague point and recognizable attempt at a story arc), he’s famed for:

Breathless – a drab kitchen sink drama masquerading as a taut crime film, which foisted Jean Seberg and her hideous hairdo on an unsuspecting public. There is no point to it.

Masculin-Feminin – a pretentious, presumably unscripted kitchen sink drama masquerading as a meaningful arthouse film, where ye ye girl Chantal Goya sits around cafes, screws a pretentious activist and…sits around in cafes. Bardot appears for a few minutes and smokes Gaulousies, which is the only point to it.

One Plus One – the absolute worst attempt at a Rolling Stones documentary, filled with a drugged out band screwing around in studio and plenty of non-Stones pretentious leftist horseshit. There is no point to it.

Alphaville – beloved film tough guy and singer Eddie Constantine is sidelined into the cheapest, least decorated hotel set ever constructed, and wanders about confused. It’s supposed to be a “sci Fi mystery celebrating noir.”. There is no point to it, and it’s by far Eddie’s worst film (except for that one that revolves around the kid, that was abominable.)

Two Or Three Things I Know About Her – barely remember this stinker, except that he keeps interspersing ads and building construction, while whispering and/or mumbling throughout. Other than making bank on ubiquitous product placement, there is no point.

Week-End – Godards OTHER attempt at making an actual film, but it STILL neither makes any rational sense or has an actual point. Cute Mirelle Darc of Bunuel’s Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (an ACTUAL cinematic genius whose absurdist narratives were both funny and most decidedly had a point) and hubby take a weekend trip, meet a lot of bizarre, almost Felliniesque characters and get eaten by cannibals. It’s not especially diverting or amusing, nor is there any real point.

So…let’s all celebrate the late “genius”, mocked and discussed with much distaste among both critical and populist circles throughout his entire career and beyond (but oddly feted by a handful of notables and presumably pushed by video companies in the name of recouping profits they could never have made off of his decidedly questionable, fourth tier “Nouvelle Vague” works.)

Someone should make a documentary of his funeral service, then intersperse it with Republican domestic terror footage, Insurance mascot ads and stoned teenagers hanging around a Starbucks, tapping away on laptops, in his honor.

Another part of me has died, having to hear that the great Anne Rice, whose original vampire trilogy, pseudonymous Rampling and Roquelaire novels and a handful of others so informed both my own journey and the second wave of gothic rock (not to mention just about any TV series or film relating to vampires, bdsm and gothic decadence in the late 80’s-90’s, Forever Knight and Buffy of particular note).

Her style was accused of being overly wordy and florid, but this only became an issue with the overblown Witching Hour (which could have been shorn of 200 pages or more easily), unsurprisingly the last of her works I ever indulged in.

Shortly thereafter she returned to the Catholicism of her youth and began writing religious novels (gah!), her husband passed, things just seemed to go sour and divide her from the very audience she’d created. In effect, I’ve dealt with her “death” decades ago, always holding a torch for the authoress who was, and may yet make a return.

No longer. La Reine Est Mort.

Requiescat Im Pace.

Sad after only recently encountering and befriending the man virtually to hear of the Covid related passing of David Anthony Kraft .

Kraft wasn’t often mentioned among the grand names of comics true golden era (1969-83) like Englehart, Gerber, Moench and even McGregor. But it was his rapport with new kid George Perez on the Man Wolf series that got Perez onto more storied work with the FF and Avengers (twice), and his greatest acclaim over at DC (on JLA, Titans and Wonder Woman).

More importantly, though, he was the last credible handler of The Defenders, before Captain America/JLI scribe JM deMatteis subjected the characters to all sorts of indignities and pulled the title off onto “punchable demon”-filled foolishness and unrecognizability.

While not as defining as the long run of Howard the Duck creator Steve Gerber, Kraft’s Defenders was.filled with fascinating pairings and juxtapositions of minor baddies like the Rhino, Solaar, Cobalt Man and Egghead, a cult leader-style mass possession with the male members set against an all too rare coalition of heroines, the early, rational half of the tale of collegiate serial killer Lunatik, and most especially the fascinatingly dark tale of old Nick Fury nemesis Scorpio and his new Zodiac…and on the fun side, the nigh slapstick madness of the “Defender for a day” documentary and it’s aftermath.

There was a bizarre gap between Kraft’s departure from the title and deMatteis (the aimless Ed Hannigan scripted fantasy disaster that was Tunnelworld), which seems to get misattributed to Krafts detriment, but I blame that entirely on Hannigan, who both drew and wrote 99 percent of that mess.

For me, he’ll always be one of the unsung greats, responsible for the entire Keith Giffen run on the title, the involvement of Patsy Walker, Hellcat (who even pays a visit to her old nemesis in modelling along the way!) and one of my all time favorite runs on what was still one of my all time favorite titles…until he left us.

And now, he’s left us for good, without his affable commentary and light chest thumping over his long ago achievements that so often filled classic comic groups here…one of the few creators of his era to involve himself so regularly into the fan community.

You will be missed, good sir.

The epidemic many fools are claiming is “a hoax” keeps taking people, this time the infamous Joel M. Reed, most notorious for being the sick mind behind Sardu and Raplhus of Bloodsucking Freaks fame.

Love it or hate it for its grim yet tongue in cheek approach to Herschell Gordon Lewis style guignol horror, it was a rite of passage for a generation or two of video rental store patrons.

Like so many others, my own discovery of this film came through enthusiastically bemused friends, who dragged me over for a group viewing. “you’ve GOT to see this…and you’ll love this guy Ralphus!”

Ciao, you exploitation lightning rod…

And amidst all this horror, the man who popularized Lovecraft in the 80’s and 90’s has passed on to another realm of cosmic horror, piped to an eternal unrest by the mad strains of the blind idiot god Azathoth at the center of the universe…

RIP Stuart Gordon

Looks like a living legend no longer walks among us.

I’ll always identify him with his meat relishing Lenten “blasphemy” and rant at the heavens in the ruined church, both of which I’ve done many a time (to the abject horror of others).

Bon noite, Xe do Caixao.

Japanese crime/noir film icon Jo Shishido is no longer with us.

One of my favorites, he enlivened not only multiple Seijun Suzuki opuses, but all sorts of Nikkatsu “borderless action” and yakuza pictures throughout the 60’s, before (like many others) being given a new lease on life via cult film fan (and questionable director) Quentin Tarantino.

Infamous for surgically enhancing his cheeks to look what he thought was more Western, he brought a slick charm and unique sense of humor to multiple roles as smooth criminals and ineffable (if doomed) hitmen, often cast against marquee draws like the Nikkatsu “Diamond Guys” which included the great Akira Kobayashi.

For those who enjoy classic Japanese cult cinema, he will be missed.

Ouch! Another big name in music bites the big one…

As Billy Sheehan is to bass, he didn’t have a lick of soul in him, but the man was certainly the pinnacle of “white man’s” drumming.

Stiff as shit…but amazing and technical as they come.

Without him, Rush would never have been more than a blip on the radar…and I dare you to deny how powerful and influential their albums from Fly By Night through Moving Pictures were.

Plus you get to laugh at all his Ditko-level lyrical Objectivism!

Rest in peace, maestro.

Our favorite Avengers actress has just passed.

Not plague related, this was a natural death. The judo loving actress, who not only penned a training manual for same but most memorably essayed the role of Cathy Gale on England’s much beloved Avengers series, was also noted for her Pussy Galore in Goldfinger, a supporting role in Bardot/Connery western oddity Shalako, the Radley Metzger Cat and the Canary and a sassy bit in the final Hammer film, To the Devil a Daughter.

One of the savviest old ladies out there since my grandma passed.

Her comeback role in Sandra Bullock/Ryan Reynolds rom com The Proposal kicked off a run of old game show appearances, some with her hubby Alan Ludden (the original Password host, himself a likeable sort), others not (like her many Match Game stints).

Despite seeming like a sweet old lady, she was always a quick, filthy wit and master of both double take and double entendre, she made similar wits like Brett Somers, Fanny Flagg and Charles Nelson Reilly seem slow by comparison, and kept this up into recent years. Plus, she was a longtime animal activist ala Bardot. What not to love?

Much feted this last few weeks on both Buzzr and local news networks, and put on the cover of People in honor of her upcoming 100th birthday…she didn’t quite make it.

RIP Betty White.

Probably no secret we’re also steeped in classic 70s-80s funk and R&B, so this one was a real kick in the arse.

It’s like lightning, all these passings…ladies and gentlemen, Mtume has just left the building.

RIP

And the hits just keep on coming! Today the live action Archie comics’ own Dobie Gillis has gone to join his old pal Maynard G. Krebs aka Bob “Gilligan” Denver (and even his annoyingly sleazy stand in, Michael J Pollard) in that malt shop in the sky (unbelievably Tuesday Weld and Warren Beatty are still with us…so much for clean living!)

Here’s hoping he found The One after years of chasing his many loves…

Duane Hickman, RIP