11/17/23
Newsletter #513
The Crack of Dawn
Where does this story begin?
Having completed the principal photography of Evil Dead, which was shot in November, December and January of 1979-80, we took up residence in offices in Ferndale, Michigan, in the Pioneer Building (a 1930s building that’s still there).
We had all been to that building a hundred times before because that’s where Romig the Magician’s store was located, and he sold smoke bombs, hand buzzers, whoopee cushions and all kinds of cool shit. There was also a barber shop in the basement, a sewing store that had a sewing club, and many oddball tenants over the years. The manager of the building was a crabby old man named Tom, usually attired in a bathrobe, always accompanied by a German Shepherd, and he lived in the building, which was technically illegal. Since he wasn’t supposed to be there, he couldn’t really bitch about all the things he’d like to.
I knew this would happen; I can’t follow my storyline. Late one night in 1984, Bruce Campbell and I were cutting the sound for Thou Shalt Not Kill…Except (Bruce was the Supervising Sound Editor). We sat at a KEM flatbed editor, and we were specifically cutting the sound of car tires shrieking as they took corners fast, which is admittedly a particularly annoying sound. Bruce had twenty possibilities and was auditioning them all for me, loud. Finally, we turned around and noticed Tom just standing behind us in the doorway with his dog, looking seriously beleaguered. He said, “Oh, fellas, please? It’s 3:30 in the morning.” Bruce nodded and said, “We’ll turn it down, but we’re not stopping.”
Anyway, time compresses life in retrospect, but I’m trying to keep it straight and real. That’s why I have a daily journal at which I never look that I’ve been keeping for 50 years. So, between the initial shooting of Evil Dead, then all the pickup shooting, then the picture and sound cutting, it was two years. And for you Evil Dead fans who have asked me this question hundreds of times online and at conventions, not only did we not know we were making a “Classic,” we didn’t know if it was any damn good. During this period many other films were made, or were planned, but didn’t get made.
This was when Scott Spiegel (co-writer of Evil Dead 2 and producer of TSNKE) and I were out to a diner, and were drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and discussing story ideas. As it happened, our waitress was wearing noticeably thick, black, horn-rimmed glasses, and was still having trouble seeing. Several times while refilling our coffee, she completely missed the cups. My Zen guru, Jane, says that the universe is not subtle, and it’s not. Scott and I watched this poor, half-blind, waitress make a mess, then looked at each other and the Super-8 film, The Blind Waiter (1980) was born. "The Blind Waiter" starring Bruce Campbell - YouTube
Scott, Bruce, Sam, Rob and I all thought that The Blind Waiter turned out pretty well, and we all had fun making it. And since Evil Dead had transformed our worlds to horror, or at least, the post-production of horror, it was fun to return to our comedy roots. Scott and I thought, well, hell, that went well, let’s make another comedy short. In the world of technology, both cable television and video tape recorders had just arrived on the scene. Plus, we’d just shot Evil Dead in 16mm, so I said we should shoot our next short in 16mm, which we did. But first we had to get an idea. This entailed a lot of driving around, smoking weed, and stopping for coffee and cigarettes. After we had kicked around a thousand ideas, and gotten into twenty stupid arguments, we were driving through mine and Sam’s little hometown of Franklin Village. As we passed the Franklin Cemetery, which is located at the top of hill, some poor schmuck groundskeeper was vainly attempting to mow the nearly vertical lawn. Gravity was his enemy at that steep of an angle. He lost control of the lawnmower, and it began to pull him down the hill. Thus, our comedy short, Torro, Torro, Torro! (1981) was born. Torro, Torro, Torro ! (1981) - YouTube
Once again, everybody had a blast, and it went together reasonably well. Because it was in 16mm, instead of stealing the music from other movies, we actually bought the rights to stock music, just in case.
Post-production of Evil Dead was completed, and the film premiered for Halloween of 1981. It played well in front of an audience. Now Bruce, Sam and Rob had the monumentally difficult task of figuring out how to sell it. Please keep in mind the reality of real time, which in print just becomes dates, the movie didn’t actually come out until 1983.
Meanwhile, everybody was showing up at the offices every day and sitting around with their thumbs up their ass. Scott and I thought, fuck this, let’s make another comedy short. The biggest movie of that exact moment, late 1981, was Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981). Without any real discussion or arguments, or helpful intrusions from the universe — except for releasing Raiders, that is — we both agreed that we should do a Raiders parody.
Nevertheless, here's the welcome intrusion of the universe, and where I’ll conclude this tale. Bruce was teaching a high school filmmaking class, and the head of the film department was a fellow named Ron Teachworth (who would later direct one of Bruce’s first features, Going Back [1984]).
Bruce and I were visiting Ron, and he took us out to the little guest house that he used as his office and studio. He offered us cans of pop, which we accepted. Ron had a refrigerator in his office. Within it was not only the bottles of Faygo Pop, there was also a two-foot stack of inordinately large, meaning circumference-wise, 16mm film cans. I asked, “What are those?” Ron said, “One thousand-foot rolls of high-speed, black & white, 16mm film. Unexposed, and out of date.” I asked, “How far out of date?” We both looked and it was like a year or two, which isn’t very long for modern Kodak negative stock. I asked, “What kind of camera holds thousand-foot reels? I’ve never seen one.” Ron shook his head, “Me, neither. But that shit fills most of my refrigerator.” Suddenly wanting the space in his fridge space back, and having spotted a likely sucker, Ron said, “If you want the film, you can have it.” Without hesitation I said, “I’ll take it.”
With this high-speed black & white film we made Cleveland Smith, Bounty Hunter (1982) – cleveland smith bounty hunter - Google Search
A good day to everybody.