🎃 🎃 🎃

Here we are, mere hours away from Halloween night, and the ghosts and ghouls are sure to be out in full force. More importantly though, there will be undead creatures slinking around the darkest shadows, watching and waiting, hoping to grab a bite… of YOU.

Vampires.

It would be immoral and irresponsible of me to let you go out unprepared to defend yourselves against such evil, my darlings. So today, I’m enrolling you all in Professor Van Helsing’s “Vampire Hunting 101” class. In this crash course you’ll learn everything you need to know about vampires: How to protect yourself, and how to kill them.

Peter Cushing as Professor Van Helsing

So the first thing we’re going to — PAUL! You spit out that gum this instant! This is a classroom, not the playground. And sit up straight, please. Take notes.

Now the vampire — SUINE! Feet off the desk! And MANDY Pratt, how did you sneak that black cat into this classroom, young lady? I don’t care if it is Halloween. OUT with it!

Come on, class! It’s life or death out there. This is no joke. Professor Van Helsing will tell you that vampirism is no laughing matter. If you get bitten by one you could die, or even worse, turn into a — vam – p — ire… your… self.

Ahem. FRANK. What are you doing? Mummy wrapping is down the hall, third door on the left

Now. Where were we? Oh, yes. VAMPIRES. Let’s consult the good Professor’s notes:

It is established that victims consciously detest being dominated by vampirism but are unable to relinquish the practice, similar to addiction to drugs. Ultimately death results from loss of blood. But unlike normal death, no peace manifests itself, for they enter into the fearful state of the undead.

See? You do not want to be bitten by a vampire. It’s not fun, it’s not a thrill. You. Will. Not. Like. It. You must protect yourself at all costs.

There are certain basic facts established about vampires that you should all know:

One: Light. The vampire is allergic to light. It never ventures forth in the daytime. Sunlight is fatal. Repeat, fatal. It would destroy them.

Two: Garlic. Vampires are repelled by the odour of garlic. Should you suspect the influence of a vampire, garlic flowers should be placed by the suspected victim’s door, windows, and by his or her bedside. Under no circumstances are they to be removed at night.

Three: The Crucifix. Symbolizing the power of good over evil. The power of crucifixes in these cases is two-fold: It protects the normal human being, but reveals the vampire or victim of this vile contagion when in advanced stages.

Van Helsing’s Number One Tip

The symbols of good are used to combat the forces of evil.

The crucifix (as mentioned above), the Word of God as written in the Holy Bible, and clear running water symbolizing purity can all be used to defend yourself against a vampire.

Vampires are spectral creatures. Their image casts no reflection in a mirror. Nor can the lens of a camera record their likeness. And it lives in mortal dread of silver. It can also be trapped by the hawthorn tree which provided Christ with his crown of thorns.

And finally, your best defence against the undead is a wooden stake driven through the heart. Learn where the heart is. Just an inch to one side and it could mean your very life. So aim carefully.

Alright, class dismissed! Pick up your complimentary vampire killing kit on the way out. Be vigilant, my friends. And be sure to wear your crosses.

Come,” he said, “come, we must see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it matters not; we fight him all the same.

Happy Halloween!

And unpleasant dreams…

^..^

The Twilight Zone episode “The Howling Man” first aired on November 4, 1960 — the fifth episode of the series’ second season. The story was written by Charles Beaumont, who was responsible for penning more than twenty TZ scripts, including “Long Distance Call”, “Long Live Walter Jameson“, “Miniature“, and the haunting “Perchance to Dream“.

If you found the Devil locked in a cage, would you let him out? Could you be convinced that it was him? Would you be swayed by his gentle demeanour? And fooled by his choice words? “The Howling Man” explores those very questions. It asks, “Do you believe?”

Wrought with wonderfully blatant Christian overtones, “The Howling Man” is my favourite episode of the Twilight Zone. To celebrate its 53rd anniversary today, I have a treat for all the serious TZ fans: the full “Howling Man” script.

Everyone knows how the TZ episode ends: With David Ellington releasing the Devil back into the world, recapturing him, then losing him again when his housekeeper falls prey to the same doubt that plagued him. But Beaumont’s original story isn’t quite the same. Be sure to check out my follow up post later today where I’ll recap the original alternate ending for you. Then feel free to leave a comment telling me which ending you prefer: the original, or the adaptation. I prefer the TZ ending, as I explained in last year’s “The Devil Made Me Do It” article, but we’ll talk more about that in the next post, “The Howling Man”: The Short Story“.

This one’s for all you fellow scholars and seekers of truth… you’re about to become finders of truth… in the Twilight Zone…

Charles Beaumont and Robin Hughes on the set of “The Howling Man”

THE TWILIGHT ZONE

“The Howling Man”

ACT ONE

INT. ELLINGTON’S ROOM – NIGHT

FADE IN and PAN DOWN to a dark and stormy NIGHT.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. THE CASTLE

CUT TO:

INT. ENTRY HALL 

INT. OFFICE

INT. ENTRY HALL

FADE OUT

INT. ENTRY HALL

CUT TO:

INT. OFFICE

END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO

INT. OFFICE

FADE IN on Jerome, still at the window, moments later.

INT. OUTSIDE THE HOWLING MAN’S CELL

CUT TO:

INT. CHRISTOPHORUS’ ROOM

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. CHRISTOPHORUS’ ROOM

CUT TO:

INT. OUTSIDE THE HOWLING MAN’S CELL

CUT TO:

INT. CHRISTOPHORUS’ ROOM

CUT TO:

INT. OUTSIDE THE HOWLING MAN’S CELL

CUT TO:

INT. CHRISTOPHORUS’ ROOM

CUT TO:

INT. OUTSIDE THE HOWLING MAN’S CELL

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. THE CASTLE

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. ELLINGTON’S ROOM

(The interior of the locked room — not easily visible when watching the episode, but how beautifully clever and subtle — a chair with carved devil heads!)

PAN UP, DISSOLVE TO and FADE OUT on a starry night SKY.

THE END

Good luck finding a copy of Charles Beaumont’s original short story “The Howling Man”. It’s out of print, and has been for years. You might get lucky and stumble across a dog-eared copy at an old bookstore, yard sale or flea market, or pay an outrageous “collector’s” price online, but other than that? Tough beans for you. Even most libraries don’t carry a copy anymore.

And I don’t like that. Not one bit. Not only was young Beaumont a supremely gifted writer, but “The Howling Man” itself is such an incredible piece of writing. It’s a terrible shame that today’s readers are being deprived of this masterpiece.

The Twilight Zone adaptation — be sure to read the previous sister post, “The Howling Man”: The Script“ – which aired on this date in 1960, stays very true to Beaumont’s original story. The only real difference is the ending. So allow me to recap that alternate ending for you now.

Having just been told the identity of the strange howling man that the Brothers keep locked in a cell, David Ellington leaves Father Jerome (he’s Father Jerome in the story, but Brother Jerome in the adaptation), set to go to the authorities. Returning to his room where Brother Christophorus is asleep, he lies down and waits. Two hours later, he goes back to Jerome’s room and steals an iron key from around his neck – the key that opens the howling man’s cell.

Convinced the man is innocent and deserving of freedom, he makes his way to the cell. Sliding the key into the lock, the door opens and the howling man steps out into the corridor. “I felt a momentary fright as his clawed hand reached up and touched my shoulder; but it passed.”

The two make a run for it, leaving the Abbey and heading down toward the village. Ellington grows very ill and begs the howling man to wait for him. He cries out for help. “Help you?” He laughed once, a high-pitched sound more awful than the screams had been; and then he turned and vanished in the moonless night.”

Ellington tells the police everything, and all of it is, of course, denied by Father Jerome and the Brothers of the Abbey. They claim he was suffering from visions brought on by his pneumonia, denying that there was any howling man at the Abbey. Father Jerome tells Ellington, “I fear that you will be delirious a while, my son. The things you see will be quite real. Most real. You’ll think—how quaint!–that you have loosed the Devil on the world and that the war to come—what war? But aren’t there always wars?” Beaumont makes special note of Jerome’s disposition during this exchange: “those old eyes burning condemnation! Beak-nosed, bearded head atremble, rage in every word!” Brother Christophorus is more honest and sympathetic, telling Ellington, “Your weakness was his lever. Doubt unlocked that door. Be comforted: we’ll hunt him with our nets, and one day . . .”

With nothing else to be done, Ellington moves on with his life and goes about his daily work. But he is plagued by constant uncertainty and doubts. Were the monks mad? Was the howling man? Or did it even happen at all? He dreams every night and he can’t shake the uneasy feeling he gets when “… the pictures of the carpenter from Braunau-am-Inn began to appear in all the papers … when the carpenter invaded Poland, I was sure.” And that superbly clever yet subtle reference to Hitler just makes Beaumont’s story that much more poignant, relevant and striking.

The story comes to a quiet, gratifying end when Ellington receives a card from the Abbey. “On … the card is a message. It is signed “Brother Christophorus” and reads (and reads and reads!): “Rest now, my son. We have him back with us again.”

And there you have it — the same story with two different endings. Both are superb. Both are fitting. Both are brilliant. If you haven’t yet, revisit last year’s “Howling Man” anniversary post, “The Devil Made Me Do It,” and read my analysis of the two endings. Which ending do you prefer? The short story or the episode? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

“The Howling Man” was originally published in the November 1959 issue of the men’s magazine Rogue, and certainly represents some of Beaumont’s best work. Plagued by a horrible degenerative aging disease that destroyed both his mind and his body, Charles Beaumont died at only 38, leaving behind a legacy enviable of any writer today.

But Beaumont lives on in his stories and scripts. He was a prolific writer, friend and colleague to other literary giants including Richard Matheson, Ray Bradbury and of course Rod Serling. Like all of these men, the spirit in which Beaumont wrote is plainly seen in the writing itself. Heart, spirit, soul… he was a natural talent, a candle glowing in the darkness whose light was snuffed out far too soon.

When I read the first one, I said: ‘Yes. Very definitely. You are a writer.’ It showed immediately. It’s not like so many people who come to you with stories and you say, ‘Well, they’re okay,’ You know, if they keep working they’ll make it. Chuck’s talent was obvious from that very first story.

~ Ray Bradbury on Charles Beaumont

When I was a little girl, I wanted a Mystic Seer. I mean, really, really, really wanted one. I was a Twilight Zone fan from very early on, and at that time, “Nick of Time” was my favourite episode. Due largely in part, I’m sure, to that quirky, penny-stealing, devil-headed fortune-telling machine that ran roughshod over poor William Shatner in his first of two TZ appearances.

Twenty-plus years later and I am finally getting my Mystic Seer. Well, as soon as Entertainment Earth decides to release it. You don’t want to know how long ago I pre-ordered this thing.

Last year I wrote a post that I thought was important: “The Mystic Seer’s Words of Wisdom“. I scoured the internet for a list of all the fortunes the Seer gives to Don Carter in the episode, but it seemed that no one had taken the time to mark them all down. At least not that I could find. So I did it. You’ll find the Seer’s complete list of fortunes in that post, along with a recap of the episode, and a little insight into what makes “Nick of Time” so special.

On this day in 1960, “Nick of Time” first aired. It ranks number 2 in my list of Top 25 TZ episodes, and today, I’m celebrating its anniversary by sharing the episode’s script. Find below the “Nick of Time” shooting script, along with a ton of photos to really give you the full experience.

Starring William Shatner and Patricia Breslin as newlyweds Don and Pat Carter, “Nick of Time” was written by TZ regular Richard Matheson, and directed by Richard L. Bare. It was the seventh episode of the second season and it is a brilliant work of art. Classic Twilight Zone goodness — stellar script, a great cast, good moral, and a lesson learned. And a super-cool napkin dispenser that is perhaps one of the most iconic items of the entire series. What more can you ask for?

And while I wait not so patiently (I’m about due for my weekly “Where the hell is my MS?!” tweet) for my deluxe full-size replica Mystic Seer, I’ll just have to make due with my smaller, yet still totally creepy one. Just one question per penny, please.

*********

THE TWILIGHT ZONE

“The Nick of Time”

ACT ONE

INT. MAIN STREET – RIDGEVIEW, OHIO – DAY

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. DINER – DAY

FADE OUT

INT. DINER – DAY

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. DINER – DAY

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET – DAY

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. STREET – DAY

FADE OUT

END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO

INT. DINER – DAY

CUT TO:

EXT. MAIN STREET – DAY

The End

◊ — ◊—– ◊♦♦♦◊ —–◊ — ◊

T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the Zone,

All the characters were busy, not one was alone.

Cherry brandy had been left by the chimneys with care

In the hopes that Henry Corwin soon would be there.

 — ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Little Christie Streator lay asleep in her bed,

While Talky Tina sat watch over her sweet, precious head.

At the Busy Bee diner, open late all this week,

See Don and Pat Carter as they dance cheek to cheek.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

The Kanamit Hall was preparing a feast:

Roast humans with stuffing — er, no, no! Roast beef!

The Venusians sang carols, spreading tidings of cheer,

While they made preparations for the invasion next year.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Down at the airport, fresh off their flight,

Were Julia and Bob, who’d had a great fright.

“I saw a man on the wing! No, I’m not insane!”

“Excuse me,” said the gremlin, “I was fixing the plane.”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

When old Professor Fowler dozed off in his chair,

The ghosts of his students took very good care.

He taught loyalty and courage, they died without fear,

Ellis knew it by morning that he was held dear.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Meanwhile on Maple Street, the neighbours were buzzing,

“With these brand new generators — no muss and no fussing.”

With the Christmas lights shining, they stood in a row,

All singing loudly, “Let it snow! Let it snow!”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

In Willoughby Gart Williams is enjoying the view

Of the children making snowmen and snow angels too.

While in Homewood Martin Sloan is admiring his tree,

He smiles, reaches down, and rubs at his knee.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Walter and Janet sat close for a while,

“You’re beautiful, Janet,” he said with a smile.

“I’ve never beheld one so perfect and bright

As your pretty face with no bandage in sight.”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

In the barrel the Mates were preparing the way

For a big Christmas party the following day.

Clown and Hobo tapped to Bagpiper’s tune,

As Major kissed Ballerina out under the moon.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

All over the Zone, this was the scene,

Peace, joy and love, red, gold and green.

When in the middle of town a sleigh jingled through,

Gregory West turned to Mary, “I heard that, did you?”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Everyone rushed out to see who was there:

Alice grabbed Charley, “Hurry up, dear!”

Ellen and Scott who were cruising the park,

And Miss Keene and Margaret came out in the dark.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Huddled in close, the characters looked round,

Wondering what treasures were soon to be found.

One whole year long they’d awaited this day,

Then they saw movement from inside the sleigh.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

A man stood up in his department store suit,

It was old Henry Corwin, and he gave a salute.

Looking round at the people while he scratched at his chin,

He opened his bag, throwing gifts with a grin:

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

“For Marsha a thimble! For Jesse a cue!

A trumpet for Joey! World’s Fair tickets for two!

A gold coin for Conny! A new grandma for Anne!

Staff of Truth for you, Jerome! To catch the Howling Man!”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

“A new stuffed leopard for Ms. Powell, for Billy a phone,

And for young Sport and Jeb, the chance to go home.

A day at the carnival for Max and for Pip,

And,” — patting his head — “a new steak bone for Rip.”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

“An upgrade for Alicia, for Luis some magic dust,

Contact lens for Mr. Bemis, and spare glasses are a must.

I hope that all are happy with the gifts received today,

But time grows short, and I do regret, I must be on my way.”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Henry Corwin looked down at the faces shining bright,

When he noticed Little Pedro, almost lost against the night.

“Señor,” Pedro gently tugged on his sleeve,

“Please don’t go yet. You can’t take your leave.”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Corwin knelt down and looked at the boy,

“What would you like, son? A book? Or a toy?”

But Pedro’s desire was far less self-serving,

A wish for a person who was much more deserving.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

“We give gifts to show kindness to those that we love,

But what of the one who came from above?

Christmas is His birthday, but so many forget

The gift that HE gave, when He paid our debt.”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

“So what I would like is for us to remember

The reason we smile and give gifts in December.

My heart’s desire is for people to say,

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for this blessed day.”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

With a tear on his cheek and a lump in his throat,

Corwin hugged Pedro, then smoothed out his coat.

“What a wonderful wish, my dear little lad.

To give you this gift, I’ll be much more than glad.”

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

Smiling his brightest, off Pedro ran,

Joining Charles Whitley to play kick the can.

And down the back alley Corwin’s sleigh disappeared

In the blink of his eye and a twist of his beard.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

With new gifts in hand, all cleared the square,

Faces bright and happy, hearts full of prayer.

But still two remained now, looking rather humble,

Reflecting on tonight, not a thought in them to grumble.

— ◊♦♦♦◊ —

As the street became silent, as daylight drew nigh,

Dundee turned to Flaherty with a smile and a sigh.

And his words they rang true as he took in the sight,

“Thank God for miracles on this meek Christmas night.”

~ Wendy Brydge, 2013

◊ — ◊—– ◊♦♦♦◊ —–◊ — ◊

“A word to the wise to all the children of the twentieth century, whether their concern be pediatrics or geriatrics, whether they crawl on hands and knees and wear diapers or walk with a cane and comb their beards. There’s a wondrous magic to Christmas and there’s a special power reserved for little people. In short, there’s nothing mightier than the meek.

And a Merry Christmas, to each and all.”

~ Rod Serling, “The Night of the Meek”, original un-cut end narration, 1960

Your songs, that is. I love your songs. That wonderful, raspy, gravelly voice just strikes the right chord in me.

I’m not a music fan. At all. I prefer sweet silence to the “noise” that most call music. And I have to be in just the right mood to listen to the music that I DO enjoy.

Having said that, there definitely are songs and singers that tickle my fancy. And none quite so much as Rod Stewart, who happens to be celebrating his 69th birthday today! Happy Birthday, my second favourite “Rod“. You still wear it well. A little out of time, but I don’t mind.

Rod Stewart’s flamboyant yet soulful rock/pop songs are something I acquired a taste for long ago. I don’t remember how or when, just that I’ve always been crazy about his uniquely delicious sound.

Rod’s first album was 1969′s An Old Raincoat Won’t Ever Let You Down. Since then, his music career has been teeming with hits, covers, an incredible Christmas album – Merry Christmas, Baby in 2012 — and the long anticipated Time, an album with all-new material, which was released in May 2013.

In honour of my favourite singer’s birthday today, I’ve compiled a little list for you: My 20 Favourite Rod Stewart Songs. They’re pretty much in order, beginning with my favourite, “Rhythm of My Heart”, which cleverly takes its musical cues from the classic Scottish song, “Loch Lomond”. (Hard to believe it’s been 14 long years since I performed that beautiful little gem as part of a trio at the local music festival. Scoff if you must, but we took first place with a darn good score!)

I’ve embedded all the songs so you can listen to them right here, and really get a chance to enjoy the Rod Stewart experience. (Because there are so many videos, you’ll likely have to reload the page after watching about half of them). I know there’s got to be other Rod fans out there reading this, so feel free to share your own favourites in the comments below!

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

-1-

♪ ♫ Rhythm of my Heart ♫ ♪

From Vagabond Heart, 1991

“Oh, the rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum…”

-2-

♪ ♫ Picture in a Frame ♫ ♪

From Time, 2013

“I love you, baby, and I always will…”

-3-

♪ ♫ The Motown Song ♫ ♪

From Vagabond Heart, 1991

“‘Cause you know what luck is, luck is believing you’re lucky, that’s all, and showing just a little bit of faith…”

 -4-

♪ ♫ Have I Told You Lately ♫ ♪

From Vagabond Heart, 1991 — Cover of Van Morrison (1989)

“And at the end of the day, we should give thanks and pray to the one, to the one…”

-5-

♪ ♫ Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright) ♫ ♪

From A Night on the Town, 1976

“Relax, baby, and draw that blind…”

-6-

♪ ♫ Ooh La La ♫ ♪

This song was originally released by “Faces” (a band Rod Stewart was a member of) in 1973, with lead vocals by band member Ronnie Wood. Stewart covered the song in 1998 for his album When We Were the New Boys.

“Poor young grandson, there’s nothing I can say. You’ll have to learn, just like me, and that’s the hardest way…”

-7-

♪ ♫ The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire) ♫ ♪

From Merry Christmas, Baby, 2012

“Although it’s been said many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you…”

-8-

♪ ♫ The First Cut is the Deepest ♫ ♪

A Night on the Town, 1976 — Cover of Cat Stevens (1967)

“I still want you by my side, just to help me dry the tears that I’ve cried…”

-9-

♪ ♫ Amazing Grace ♫ ♪

From Every Picture Tells a Story, 1971

I didn’t know that Rod Stewart had ever sung this song. It seems that it’s missing from some editions, and occasionally it’s included as part of the song “That’s Alright”. SUCH a pity that he only sings the first verse of the song, and it’s right at the end (he starts at 1:20 in this video). Please, Rod, you need to record a full version of “Amazing Grace”. Then I can die happy.

“I once was lost, but now am found…”

-10-

♪ ♫ What a Wonderful World ♫ ♪

From Stardust: the Great American Songbook, Volume III, 2004 — Cover of Louis Armstrong (1967), written by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss

“I see friends shakin’ hands, sayin’ “How do you do?” They’re really saying “I love you”…”

-11-

♪ ♫ I’d Rather Go Blind ♫ ♪

From Never a Dull Moment, 1972 — Cover of Etta James (1968)

“Most of all I just don’t, I just don’t want to be free…”

-12-

♪ ♫ The Way You Look Tonight ♫ ♪

From It Had to Be You: The Great American Songbook, 2002 — Cover of Fred Astaire (1936), written by Jerome Kern with lyrics by Dorothy Fields.

“And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, touches my foolish heart…”

-13-

♪ ♫ All For Love ♫ ♪

This song was written by Bryan Adams, Robert John “Mutt” Lange and Michael Kamen for the soundtrack “The Three Musketeers: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack“, and is performed by Adams, Rod Stewart and Sting.

“Let the one you hold be the one you want, the one you need…”

-14-

♪ ♫ Time ♫ ♪

From Time, 2013

“Time waits for no one…”

-15-

♪ ♫ Auld Lang Syne ♫ ♪

From Merry Christmas, Baby, 2012

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind…”

-16-

♪ ♫ Some Guys Have All the Luck ♫ ♪

From Camouflage, 1984 — Cover of The Persuaders (1973), written by Jeff Fortgang.

“But if you were here with me, I’d feel so happy I could cry. You are so dear to me, I just can’t let you say goodbye…”

-17-

♪ ♫ This Ol’ Heart of Mine ♫ ♪

Cover of Isley Brothers (1966) — Rod Stewart first recorded this song for his album Atlantic Crossing in 1975. My pick is the 1989 version — Stewart’s duet with Ronald Isley.

“I wanna shout about it, tell the world about it ’cause I love you…”

-18-

♪ ♫ Twistin’ the Night Away ♫ ♪

From Never a Dull Moment, 1973 — Cover of Sam Cooke (1962) — Rod Stewart also rerecorded this song in 1987 for the soundtrack to the film “Innerspace”. But my pick is the original 1973 recording.

“Man, you ought to see her go, twistin’ to the rock and roll…”

-19-

♪ ♫ Your Song ♫ ♪

From Two Rooms: Celebrating the Songs of Elton John & Bernie Taupin, 1991 – Cover of Elton John (1970)

“Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen…”

-20-

♪ ♫ Do Ya Think I’m Sexy? ♫ ♪

From Blondes Have More Fun, 1978

“His lips are dry, her heart is gently pounding. Don’t you just know exactly what they’re thinking…”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

My friend Krystal (also a huge Rod Stewart fan) and I have made a pact: We WILL see this man in concert before he dies. It’s a done deal. Fate, fortune, kismet. Yes. Rod? I’ve got two words for you — CANADIAN TOUR. Make it happen.

You’re in my heart, you’re in my soul
You’ll be my breath should I grow old
You are my lover, you’re my best friend
You’re in my soul

~ Rod Stewart, “You’re in My Heart (The Final Acclaim)”

Love of beauty is taste. The creation of beauty is art.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Gil Elvgren

The female form is one of the most beautiful objects in all of God’s vast creation. Beauty is, of course, subjective. Even Rod Serling reminded us that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”. But in the art of the classic pin-up girl, an idealistic beauty is pretty standard: Big, bright, lash-y eyes. A sly smile, gently pouted lip, or dazzling pearly whites. An hourglass figure, softly curving in and out at the waist. Silky, gleaming hair in red, brunette, blonde or raven, short and sassy or long and seductive.

Gil Elvgren, “Gentlemen Prefer…?”, 1963

Pin-ups are gorgeous. Idealized, stylized and perfect. But I don’t have any problem with this portrayal of women. The fact is, I adore pin-up art (I’ve even done a little pin-up creating myself) almost as much as I enjoy a fine art masterpiece by Caravaggio or Da Vinci.

The pin-up girl exudes this wonderful sense of play that’s shrouded in a light haze of mystery. She’s subtle sexy. I’m not a fan of partial or full-on nudity in pin-ups. (Be forewarned, there’s a bit of nudity ahead.) Part of what makes pin-up art so alluring is that the girls are covered up. There’s much to be said for leaving a little something to the imagination. If you give the whole show away, what is there to stick around for?

Fortunately, a good majority of pin-up art shies away from bare breasts and bottoms. In my opinion, a lot of stunning pin-up images are ruined by nudity, like these otherwise beautiful works by famous pin-up artists Fritz Willis (center) and Alberto Vargas:

And these are just mild examples of nudity. We can find many examples of full nudes, especially in Vargas’ pin-up portfolio.

Pin-up art was at its height during the 1940s and 50s, with artists producing these exquisitely suggestive images for magazines and advertisements. Each artist had his own style (though as you’ll see throughout this post, some artists showed distinct similarities), and looking back on the pin-up girls today, it’s not that difficult to tell which artist created what girls.

Bill Randall

The mid-twentieth century produced a number of extremely talented artists whose main focus was the gorgeous pin-up girl: Alberto Vargas, Gil Elvgren, Fritz Willis, Pearl Frush, Lou Shabner, Ben Hur Baz, Al Buell, Al Moore, Vaughan Bass, Edward Runci, Joseph F. DeMartini, Bill Randall, Knute “KO” Munson, Freeman Elliot, Earl MacPherson, Art Frahm, and the list goes on.

My favourite pin-up: Gil Elvgren, “The Right Touch”, 1958

But no matter the artist, all pin-up girls have one thing in common: they embody the fantasy of catching a glimpse of what you’re really not supposed to see.

~ Alberto Vargas ~

Peruvian painter, Alberto Vargas (February 9, 1896 – December 30, 1982), is probably the most well known of all the great pin-up artists. Although not my personal favourite, he has been referred to as THE greatest pin-up artist by many, both in and out of the art world.

There’s no questioning his talent. His perfectly blended gradations of colour are the result of using an airbrush. You’d be hard pressed to find noticeable brush strokes on a Vargas piece. His ladies have a smooth softness about them that other pin-up artists have failed to replicate. Precision and minute details are trademark Vargas.

Some have tried though, and one artist in particular, came close. Joseph F. De Martini’s watercolour and airbrushed pin-ups are very similar in style to Vargas. Which isn’t all that surprising considering the two were friends and associates.

But even with the similarities, for the most part, it’s difficult to mistake one man’s work for the other’s. Vargas was a much better technical artist than De Martini, and his girls are more well developed and three-dimensional – they have more depth. The shadows are darker, the highlights are brighter. When you view their work side by side, the differences are easy to spot.

Alberto Vargas Girls

Joseph DeMartini

~ Gil Elvgren ~

Gil Elvgren, “Spotty Performance (Occupational Hazard; Stenographer)”, 1962

Gil Elvgren (March 15, 1914 – February 29, 1980) is responsible for painting literally hundreds of pin-ups. And he is, to me, the greatest and most important pin-up artist who ever lived. His girls are hands down my favourites. They’re classy, sexy, and many are cleverly named to reflect the scenes they’re painted in. The colours are bright and vibrant, and the girls are beautifully rendered with soft, touchable hair, and luscious curves.

Gil Elvgren, “Jeanette”, 1962

 There is no mistaking an Elvgren pin-up. Unlike some of his famous counterparts (like Vargas), Elvgren worked in oils, not watercolour, which is what gives his paintings so much depth and substance. His girls are very well developed and have an opulent, glamourous tone, while never losing their sense of whimsy and play.

A huge percentage of Elvgren’s girls are adorned with the quintessential sexy accessory: dark thigh-high stockings and garter straps.

But regardless of attire, what makes a pin-up truly sexy is her demeanour and the tone of the scene she’s in. And that is why you DON’T need nudity in a pin-up to make it work. It’s that little twinkle in her eye, the look of surprise on her pretty face; it’s what she’s doing, and just that HINT of skin peeking out from under her skirt. She’s begging to be touched, and yet… she’s a work of art. And everyone knows you don’t touch a work of art. You appreciate and admire its beauty from afar.

There are two other artists whose work was clearly influenced by Elvgren’s style: Edward Runci (left) and Forest H. Clough (1910 – 1985) (right).

At a quick glance, you might be tempted to attribute both girls (also rendered in oils) to Mr. Elvgren’s talented hand. But upon closer inspection, you’ll notice the differences. Runci captures the voluminous glow of the skin, and his pin-up has an Elvgren-like well-developed face and alluring bedroom eyes. But notice how stiff she looks. Her posture, the pose, the angle of her arm. Even the drape of the fabric is in competition with the softness of her hair and face. And her body is a bit underdeveloped, with her forearms, hands and legs being less finished looking than her chest and shoulders. While she might be sexy, she’s really not very inviting.

Clough’s french maid has a gorgeous set of legs. Long and lean, with shadows and highlights in all the right places to accentuate her calves. But take a look at the rough-edged brush strokes throughout the piece. The lack of smooth, transitional blending between the black dress and the white highlights. And how harsh her lovely features appear. Overall, the work has a “choppy” appearance and lacks Elvgren’s smooth finesse.

~ Fritz Willis ~

Fritz Willis (1907 – January 13, 1979) has a unique style. Unlike the other artists I’ve mentioned so far, Willis’ pin-ups possess a much more understated beauty. The colours are more muted and the overall effect is very soft. He too worked mostly in oils, but at first glance, you might mistake the medium for pastels. For some of his earlier pin-ups, Fritz worked in a medium called gouache. This is a mix-it-yourself type of paint, similar to watercolour, but with additives to make the paint less transparent and more opaque.

Fritz Willis

His paintings have a sort of smeared quality about them, (especially the fabric in his backgrounds), which is similar to the appearance pastels give. Everything is very soft, airy and ethereal looking. And this effect works so nicely because his figures are still well-developed and finely rendered. There’s nothing “sloppy” about Willis’ pin-ups. Wispy brush strokes and a feathery glow help make his girls more beauty than bombshell. And unlike Elvgren’s lively, playful pin-ups, Willis’ girls are more subdued and relaxed, which is what really sets them apart from other pin-up art.

Fritz Willis

~ Duane Bryers ~

I should point out that not every great pin-up artist conformed to the typical standard of female beauty. Another of my favourite pin-up artists is Duane Bryers, whose beloved plus-size, red-headed pin-up girl, Hilda, will steal your heart.

Duane Bryers

Often portrayed in silly, awkward, or precarious positions, Hilda is the unconventional pin-up girl.

Sweet and sassy, this plump, cheeky, fiery-haired missy was the calendar queen of the 1950s. A little on the clumsy side but bubbling with charm, Hilda has been portrayed doing countless things: from dozing in the shade to piloting a sailboat, panning for gold, swimming and watermelon-eating, and unhappily painting a picture in the rain.

What a delightfully refreshing take on pin-ups! This a-typical beauty had confidence, often sporting nothing more than a bikini made of flowers, that were often falling off thanks to her playful antics. Bryer’s style was colourful and vibrant, which complemented Hilda’s personality perfectly. Of all the pin-up girls, Hilda best illustrates the importance of personality in a piece. Hilda has a soul and you can catch a little glimpse of it in every scene Bryers painted her in. She comes to life. And that’s what makes the difference between just a painting and a work of art.

Duane Bryers

Pin-ups have become something of a lost art. Yes, you can find artists today who will paint you a pin-up girl and do a darn good job of her, but artists specializing in pin-ups? As far as I know, there really aren’t any. But it makes sense. The job of classic pin-up art was to sell products. And in today’s electronic digital age, there isn’t much call for hand-painted advertising. And what a terrible shame that is.

Pearl Frush

Thankfully we have the works of these exceptional artists to look back on. The pin-up girl will live on. Their beauty is timeless, their appeal continues to span generations. I don’t look at these lovely ladies as derogatory or sexist, but I appreciate them for the beauty and talent they represent. It’s ART.

The world’s love affair with the art of the pin-up is still going strong. And so is mine.

A beautiful woman delights the eye; a wise woman, the understanding; a pure one, the soul.

~ Minna Antrim

And who says a woman can’t be all three?

Sex sells.

This is a sad fact of life. But while this may be true, when it comes to art, what sells isn’t always what’s best for business.

I’d like to elaborate a bit on a particular point I made in my last post, “The Art of the Pin-up“: That nudity in pin-ups is not only unnecessary, but that it also takes away from the sexiness of the girl.

It’s one thing to understand a concept. I can tell you that clothed pin-up girls are sexier than nude ones. Then I can list all my reasons explaining my point of view. I’ll say that everyone loves a good mystery. That it’s more enjoyable to wonder what’s under her skirt than to just have the goods paraded in front of you.

But sometimes you really need to SEE something to truly get it. You need to witness the concept executed in a practical way. So instead of just telling you that nude pin-ups aren’t as sexy, I’m going to SHOW you.

Here is a classic pin-up girl by Alberto Vargas. A blushing bride nonetheless. And she should be blushing with her breast exposed like that. Technically speaking, this is a gorgeous painting. The girl is beautifully rendered with long, lean legs, slender fingers, and brilliant blue eyes. Her veil is creating a lovely, subtle backdrop for her perfect body, painted with less detail so that the cloth isn’t competing with the main focus of the piece — the girl herself.

Vargas was a true artist. There’s no denying his talent. This painting is breathtaking. From her detailed bridal bouquet and shoes, to her diamond earrings; the soft pinks and whites of the fabric, to the peachy glow of her skin, and the deliciously contrasting black of her hair… it’s a masterpiece.

But as we’re taking in the piece in all its subtle glory, suddenly we become aware of the elephant in the room. That breast. That breast that, for all intents and purposes, shouldn’t be visible.

Study her posture and the position her body is in. Think about the anatomy of the female body and you’ll realize how awkward and unnatural it is for her to be sitting this way, with her breasts straddling her leg. Can she actually sit like this? Yes, but it’s not something that a woman would do naturally. And how simple would it have been to have her breast covered by her leg? It would make more sense, AND it would look better, my bias against nudity aside.

Right here we have the perfect example of something I hate: Gratuitous nudity. Vargas is baring her breast not because it makes sense for the pin-up, but simply because he can. It’s completely forced. It’s one thing to have a nude pin-up that would require a prop or a piece of clothing to hide the nudity. But it’s quite another thing when the pin-up is in prime position to have her lady parts strategically hidden (a key to good composition in this type of art) … and you create a way to show them off regardless.

As I looked at this pin-up, it was so obvious to me that simply covering that breast would take the piece from “eh” to “Wow”. And in an effort to show all of you, I did just that. Here is Vargas’ pin-up with a little alteration.

Now, for my money? THIS is sexy.

This to me, is what a pin-up should be. “Subtle sexy”, as I said in the previous post. The point of pin-up art is to tease the viewer. Pin-ups are not porn. You admire a pin-up girl, you don’t drool over her. She’s not a centerfold. She’s a work of art. To be savoured, not salivated over.

Such a small change, but it makes a world of difference. Pin-ups are about the thrill of the chase. Of getting that little glimpse that makes you want more. Just a bit, not TOO much, but just enough. We can still see her breast, but not all of it. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but it’s my opinion that the covered version is sexier than the original.

So what do you think? To bare, or not to bare? That’s the breast, er, best question of all.

Next on Twilight Zone, we move into New Orleans for the Mardi Gras, and we do it with a vengeance. Robert Keith and Milton Selzer appear in a bizarre story of men, masquerades and masks. This is a small shocker to wind up a week, and if it doesn’t send you to a psychiatrist, it’ll send you at least to a mirror. On Twilight Zone next, “The Masks.

Mr. Jason Foster, a tired ancient who on this particular Mardi Gras evening will leave the Earth. But before departing, he has some things to do, some services to perform, some debts to pay – and some justice to mete out. This is New Orleans, Mardi Gras time. It is also the Twilight Zone.

“The Masks”

Season 5, Episode 25

 Original air date: March 20, 1964

A wealthy old man is about to die. But he won’t die alone. He’ll be surrounded by his family. Sadly, they aren’t there to comfort the dying man in his final hours. No. His daughter Emily, son-in-law Wilfred, grandson Wilfred Junior, and granddaughter Paula, are here for one reason and one reason only: Greed.

But Jason Foster is one shrewd character. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knows exactly what’s going on. He knows his family all too well. “You all came here for one purpose: to watch me go and cry “Bon Voyage”. To put coins on my closed eyes and with your free hands start grabbing things from my shelves. You’ve come to reap everything I’ve sown, to collect everything I’ve built.”

After a few pitifully unconvincing denials are uttered by the family, the old man continues. “Well, I shall not disappoint you. Everything is yours. Everything is prepared, the will is made; the four of you inherit everything I own. Everything… money, house, property holdings, stocks, bonds, everything.”

However… there is a teeny, tiny catch before he hands over his fortune. The old man’s got some spirit left in him yet. You see, he’s arranged for a little party, and all of them are going to wear masks.

“Masks?”

Yes, masks. And they’re not just any old masks either. “Have you examined your masks? They are very unique. You know, they are made by an old cajun. Made is inaccurate. They’re created. I’m told that in addition to their artistic value, they have certain, uh, certain properties.”

Uh huh. And what, pray tell, could THAT mean, you ask?

Jason explains that they’re only worn during the Mardi Gras, and there’s a ritual to the wearing. “One tries to select a mask that is the antithesis of what the wearer is.”

So how do Jason’s relatives see themselves?

Wilfred

Wilfred thinks of himself as an affable man: Friendly, outgoing, extrovertish. He has a certain rapport with his fellow man. Jason selects for him this mask:

“It has great subtlety, Wilfred. There’s greed, avarice, cruelty… all of the character traits that you DON’T have.”

Emily

Jason goes on to describe his daughter. “Ah, and my dear, brave, Emily. You’re up to anything. Your courage dictates this brief period of sacrifice.”

“Now, look at this face. The face of a self-centered coward, a gutless flab, in contrast to your intrepid valor.”

Paula

His granddaughter, the one who walks in beauty like the night.

“Paula, look at that beauty, that insolent hauteur, that skin-deep vanity. It has none of your heart, none of your selflessness.”

Wilfred Junior

And finally the timid, gentle Wilfred Jr.

“Now, this would be your mask, Wilfred, my boy. It’s the face of a dull, stupid clown — in contrast to your gentle refinement, your courteous civility.”

You can taste the sarcasm hanging in the air of that place. Jason is really giving them what for. And then Wilfred asks the question we’ve all been, er, dying to ask. “Uh… what about your mask, Father?”

Here cunning old Mr. Foster delivers one of my favourite lines from the entire episode. “Oh, this is mine. The face of death, because I’m alive, understand? I shall wear the thing that stalks me at this moment.”

And the stipulation for inheriting all the wealth? The masks must be worn until midnight.

“Father, you don’t mean we have to WEAR these ugly things?”

No one is in favour of this, of course, but Jason, the clever devil that he is, has already assured their cooperation. Should any one of them take off their mask before 12:00, then they all receive nothing but train fare back home.

Wilfred, ever the greedy opportunist, quickly agrees to indulge the old man’s pleasure. And besides, what could possibly go wrong? It’s just a few hours. And they’re just masks, after all…

But no one was expecting the extreme discomfort that followed. The masks become unbearable. They beg to take them off. Jason makes a final plea to them, asking, “Is there nothing else you have to say to me?” But the loveless heathens have no compassion. They don’t care that he’s about to die. In fact, they can’t wait.

Jason begins to cough. His time has run out. But a man like this isn’t about to waste his dying breath. After he notes the hint of hope in his daughter’s voice at the assurance of his impending demise, Jason Foster has some choice final words for his family.

Because you’re cruel and miserable people. Because none of you respond to love. Emily responds only to what her petty hungers dictate. Wilfred responds only to things that have weight and bulk and value. He feels books; he doesn’t read them. He appraises paintings; he doesn’t seek out their truth or their beauty. And Paula there lives in a mirror. The world is nothing to her but a reflection of herself. And her brother. Humanity to him is a small animal caught in a trap to be tormented. His pleasure is the giving of pain, and from this, he feels the same sense of fulfillment most human beings get from a kiss or an embrace! You’re caricatures! All of you. Without your masks, you’re caricatures.

The clock chimes midnight.

And now… you’re all very rich. Now you own everything that I have owned. You kept your bargain. You wore the masks. Enjoy yourselves, dear ones. I’ve lived a full life. May God pity you.

And with that, Jason Foster, his mission complete, passes on to the next life.

The family gathers round to celebrate their “victory”, with Wilfred despicably quipping, “He’s dead. At long last, he’s dead.”

I don’t think any of us saw this coming the first time we watched the episode. Wilfred yanks off his mask in triumph, and is met with screams of horror.

Oh, YES. In typical Rod Serling fashion, justice is served on a silver platter, and with an apple in its mouth. And the punishment is deliciously fitting. Of all the Twilight Zone episodes that deal with comeuppance? I truly believe “The Masks” is the most satisfying. The masks have transformed the faces of the wearers, leaving them hideously disfigured.

Now, this ending is what makes the episode so magical. We sit in horrified suspense as one by one, these wicked worms remove their masks, revealing what is essentially, their TRUE faces. The scene is so powerful that no dialogue is needed. It’s that beautiful. But this isn’t even the best part.

The unmasking isn’t finished yet.

The faithful butler calls the doctor, and when he arrives, he very gently tips Jason’s head back, and slips off his mask to reveal…

His face, just as it was before. The doctor looks down at him.

This must be death. No horror, no fear. Nothing but peace.

As Serling’s poignant narration closes out the episode, the camera pans slow over the family, providing a nice reminder that there’s much more to life than possessions and wealth. There are people to love and to be loved by. And we’d all do well to get our priorities straight. Being beautiful on the outside means nothing if you’re ugly on the inside. And make no mistake about it, that ugliness isn’t invisible. It can be seen just as plainly as the nose on your face.

Mardi Gras incident, the dramatis personae being four people who came to celebrate and in a sense let themselves go. This they did with a vengeance. They now wear the faces of all that was inside them – and they’ll wear them for the rest of their lives, said lives now to be spent in the shadow. Tonight’s tale of men, the macabre and masks – on the Twilight Zone.

“The Masks” ranked at No. 3 in my Top 25 TZ episodes list last year. And I’m sure you can see why. It’s an exceptional Serling-penned script, executed beautifully by a stellar cast and its director Ida Lupino. As Paul, my TZ partner in crime, pointed out in his blog post “10 Little-Known Facts About The Twilight Zone“, Lupino boasts two distinctions: She was the only person to star in and direct an episode of the Twilight Zone. She was also the only woman to direct the show.

Today is the 50th anniversary of ”The Masks”, and it’s still as compelling as ever. But did you know there were a number of alternate endings considered for this classic episode?

The following excerpt is from “The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic“, by Martin Grams.

In the earlier drafts from March and April, the ending to the script was slightly different. After the family removes their masks to reveal the side-effects, the audience gets an abrupt cut to the front entrance hall, where the butler stands transfixed, listening to the screams from behind closed doors. He very slowly closes his eyes, lowers his head and makes a silent prayer. The grandfather clock strikes two, and the butler enters the study, followed by a gnarled little old man. “Mr. Foster told me that I should pick up the masks any time after midnight,” he explains. He picks up the masks that have been strewn across the room. After getting the fourth one, he turns toward Foster, looks at him briefly, points to him, and looks toward the butler questionably.

“Mr. Foster is dead,” the butler explains. “He died at midnight. He left word that I was to let you in … you were to take the masks back with you.” The old man walks over to Foster, gently moving the old man’s head back and removes the death mask. Underneath is a face in repose and peace. “This is the mask of death. The true one. The endless sleep of peace.” The butler and the old man make for the door while the camera pans to the top of the stairs where the four people are huddled together, and Serling’s closing narration concludes the episode. (In another draft similar to the above, the old man picks up the masks and then points to Foster, who is already unmasked and dead. The butler comments that Foster already removed his mask. The old man smiled slightly, “Mais non. He did not. He merely exchanged.”)

I’m so glad that Serling made the choice he did. The other two examples, I think, would have fallen very flat. Sometimes less is more, especially in writing. The bottom line is, we didn’t NEED all that other stuff in the earlier drafts. It’s unnecessary. As I pointed out above, the unmasking scene is devoid of any dialogue, and it’s precisely because it’s not needed. The scene speaks for itself.

And I believe the same thing goes for the ending. You can’t watch this episode and not have Jason’s unmasking and the doctor’s final words hit you right in the chest. The scene is perfect. It has such a lovely balance of emotions, and they aren’t being overpowered by a bunch of frivolous dialogue.

This ending MAKES the entire episode. Which is why I’m left fuming every New Year’s Eve when the Syfy channel violently hacks this scene right out when it airs as part of their annual TZ Marathon (which @TheNightGallery and I have a blast live-tweeting together).

They take it right out. The scene jumps from the family’s unmasking to the butler walking out in the hall as the end narration plays. Ruins it. It truly does. And Syfy, you should be ashamed of yourselves for vandalizing Serling’s masterpiece.

But this is the true beauty of the Twilight Zone. Every episode is as it should be. The right changes were always made, and the wrong ones abandoned. And these stories continue to live on in our minds and hearts. 50 years later, I still can’t help but crack a knowing smile when Jason grins and says, “We’re going to have a very interesting evening. As a matter of fact, I’ll guarantee it.”

Preliminary sketch for self portrait, 2008

When I was younger, pencil was my preferred medium. I liked to sketch. And I wasn’t all that interested in painting. In fact, let me be honest – I abhorred the idea of being a “painter”.

One day during my early years in high school, I decided to stop at the local art shop and make a few inquiries about how to get my work sold there in the future. I left extremely discouraged because the owner basically told me that pencil sketches weren’t really a saleable medium. That most people wanted colour on their walls.

This was quite the predicament. I had painted a few things before, but it wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted to sketch. In pencil.

So what’s a 15-year-old girl to do when all of her carefully thought out career plans seemingly evaporate before her eyes?

Adapt.

Learn something new.

And get on with your life.

Make it work and get where you want to be.

I’m not entirely sure when it happened, but at some point, the idea of painting was no longer so despicable. I’m sure much of that change of heart came about because I realized that the store owner was probably right. That if I truly wanted to earn a living doing art, that maybe I had to sacrifice a little bit. But not too much. That’s the key to being successful AND happy – knowing what to give up, and what to hold your ground on.

Grade 12 was when it really started falling into place for me. I was 17. My final exam project was a major affair. A series of works which depicted an intangible quality or feeling, in a tangible way. Ooo, symbolism, eh? This was perfect for me, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

My teacher*, God bless her, often didn’t see eye-to-eye with me. And what did we clash over most? My subject choice. After turning in the following series of sketches, she caught me one day going out the door and said, “Wendy, I think you put too much religious emphasis in your art. You need to do something else.”

No one knew it, but she flipped a switch that day. I was angry that anyone would dare say such a thing to ME. I’ve always been “WendyLovesJesus”, even before I formally adopted that moniker when I joined Twitter in 2011. It was never a secret that there was nothing more important to me than my love of Jesus. In Grade 11, I turned out my martyrs altar piece. I was known for being the smart, artsy Christian girl, and now here I was a year later, and someone was telling me to stop what I loved doing and what made me, well, ME.

Martyrs Altarpiece, 2002

*smiles patronizingly*

I nodded and listened and walked away. And then I swore to myself that I would NEVER stop. Too much religious emphasis? How about not enough? It stoked a fire that had been living in me since the day I was born.

Shortly after that encounter, it was time to decide what my final project would be. What did I want to do? Simply put, I wanted to illustrate Bible stories. To fit with the criteria set out, I chose to do a series of paintings which depicted God’s love. You can’t SEE love, but you can “see” it. And that’s exactly what I did.

Bible Miracles Paintings, 2004: “Jesus Heals the Blind Man”, “Daniel in the Lions’ Den”, “The Ultimate Sacrifice”, “Abraham’s Test”, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the Fiery Furnace”

There was an exhibition of all the works held in the school library and I got to stage my paintings with open Bibles, a red curtain, candles and dim lighting.

It was my attempt to recreate the atmosphere I’d experienced a year and a half earlier during a visit to the Royal Ontario Museum. “Images of Salvation” was a special exhibition of works from The Vatican and other Italian collections. And it was absolutely glorious. It was also the place where I supposedly walked right past Michelangelo’s Pieta and didn’t even notice it. Lord have mercy on me, a wretched, disgustingly unobservant sinner.

My paintings were a hit, even with my teacher. She never said one word about wishing I’d done something else. She told me she was proud of me. And I got a fantastic mark and an art award (two, actually) a few months later at graduation.

January 27, 2004

This experience taught me a valuable lesson: It’s important that you find something in life that you’re truly passionate about. Something you can get behind and push forward with. Something you’re willing to give 110% to for the rest of your life. Something that you love. Knowing when to give a little to better yourself is important. But it’s also important to recognize the areas you need to stand firm on.

I wanted a career in art, and I needed to adapt and evolve. Today, I can’t even imagine going back to just sketching in pencil. I’m known for my colour work now. Vibrant colour is one of the things that sets me apart from a lot of other artists. I’d have done myself a great disservice had I dug in my heels and refused to try painting in a more serious manner. Turned out I had a talent for it. And now I wouldn’t give up my brush and palette for anything.

Wendy Brydge, “Messiah”, 2012

That was a necessary change in what I was doing. But devoting the majority of my time and skill to illustrating religious subjects? That I wasn’t about to abandon. It’s what makes me who I am, what I am, WHY I am. I paint a lot of things, but Bible symbolism is what I’m passionate about. That’s what makes me excited, that’s what I love to do.

Wendy Brydge, “Armageddon”, 2012

Do what you love and you’ll love what you do. There’s much truth in that.

The year after I graduated high school, I went back to that little art shop, one of my own pieces in tow. It was, in fact, a framed print of the above “Jesus Heals the Blind Man”. I had never seen any religious works in her shop, but hey, the worst that could happen was that she’d say no, she didn’t want it.

And she almost did. Gave me a big spiel about how religious art doesn’t sell, there’s no market for it, at least around here. And space is at a premium, you know! Can’t take just any painting that walks in off the street. I wasn’t about to beg, so I simply said that if she wasn’t interested it was no problem, I’d look elsewhere. She took it with the stipulation that if it didn’t sell within a month, that I was to come and retrieve it or it would go in the garbage. And she was emphatic that I not get my hopes up – it wasn’t going to sell.

Well. Okay.

A month goes by and I hear nothing. Six weeks pass and I realize I’d better go and get the darn thing. I look around at the shop and it’s not there. Seeing what was most likely a look of panic wash over my face, an employee asked if I needed help with something. You can imagine my surprise when after explaining about my piece, she laughed and informed me that it sold the first week it was out on display.

I was regaled with a wonderful story about an out-of-town woman who walked in and fell in love with it. Couldn’t stop looking at it, wanted to own it badly. She came back a few days later with her spouse, and they both were head over heels. Bought it, said some very nice things about it, and me, and it was gone. As this was my first “real” sale, you can imagine how delighted I was to hear all of this.

I won’t bore you with details of my anger at the store owner for not contacting me when it sold; or of the insane amount of time it took for me to finally get paid; OR the fact that she failed to honour the commission and price we agreed upon. Chalk all that up to a valuable learning experience and a lesson that people can’t be trusted.

But it sold! Somewhere out there in the world, a Wendy Brydge was hanging on a wall, being admired and appreciated – what every artists wants. And to top it all off, it was a picture depicting something about Jesus. Hallelujah!

Preliminary sketch for “Jesus Heals the Blind Man”, 2003

I’ve learned that your life is what you make it. Don’t let other people lead you down paths you don’t want to go down, down paths you don’t belong on. Don’t take “advice” from just anyone. You’ll know what’s right when you come across it. You’ll feel it. And you’ll know what’s wrong too. Whether it’s your career, your love life, your friendships… pay attention. Don’t ignore that feeling. Listen. Listen and you might find that God is speaking to you, trying to steer you in the right direction and more importantly, away from the wrong one.

Find what makes you happy and then strive to hold onto it; to get better, to do better, to be better. Money, position, power, fame… all of it’s meaningless if you aren’t happy. And God didn’t say we couldn’t be happy.

As Kenny Rogers sang, “You gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, and know when to run…” So true in all aspects of life. Whether you’re dealing with people, or with paint on a brush: Adapt where you need to, but hold on to what’s important, to what makes you happy, to what you love.

* * *

*Just for fun, I’d like to point out that this is the woman who told me there were only two men in my life – Jesus and Dracula. (See my bio on the side of this page.) Even now it amazes me how well that sums me up!

All of my fellow Seekers of Truth know that my interests are broad and far-reaching. My blog is made up of, dare I say, an incredible variety of topics.

Today is the two-year anniversary of “Seeker of Truth”. That’s right. On April 28, 2012, I introduced myself, pulled up a chair, and started writing. And I’ve spent the last two years blogging about many of my favourite things. But in 45 posts, I’ve never once covered my two favourite topics at the same time: Art and Jesus.

Jesus + Art = Me

If people could be broken down into a mere equation, that’s me right there. I have always loved paintings that depict Bible stories, Bible symbolism, and anything to do with Christ our Lord.

So what better way to celebrate the start of my third blogging year than by highlighting and discussing some of my favourite paintings of Jesus.

For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive in the Spirit.

~ 1 Peter 3:18

***

The painting that absolutely tops my list is Caravaggio’s “The Incredulity of Saint Thomas”.

This painting speaks to me like no other. It is the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen. The work was completed in 1602 and now hangs in the Sanssouci Palace in Potsdam, Germany. It’s my favourite painting in the entire world and the only one I must see in person before I die.

Caravaggio was THE master of chiaroscuro – the modelling of light and dark – and there is no better example of that than this piece. The scene illustrates John 20:24-29, and Caravaggio has captured the most important part – the instant Thomas believes: “Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.” A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then He said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” Thomas said to Him, “My Lord and my God!”

I’m simply in awe of the range of emotions that Caravaggio has managed to play across Thomas’ face. You can see his disbelief turn to shock and then realization. It’s subtle yet entirely obvious at the same time. Perhaps there’s even a twinge of guilt and shame hidden there; regret for his doubting.

The artist has breathed life into this painting. You can “hear” this piece – it’s very quiet. Caravaggio has put us in that room with Jesus and the disciples; we feel what they feel. And that is the mark of a true artist: The one who can draw the viewer in that they might actually take part in the scene.

In 1951, eccentric surrealist painter Salvador Dali introduced the world to his stunning painting, “Christ of Saint John of the Cross”.

The highly unusual perspective is what sets Dali’s painting apart from all others. The first time I saw this piece, I was mesmerized. Said Dali: “In the first place, in 1950, I had a ‘cosmic dream’ in which I saw this image in colour and which in my dream represented the ‘nucleus of the atom.’ This nucleus later took on a metaphysical sense; I considered it ‘the very unity of the universe,’ the Christ!”

Dali was inspired by this “from above” sketch of Jesus, done by the Spanish Saint John of the Cross (hence the painting’s title), some time between 1574 and 1577.

Much controversy surrounds Dali’s work, but I prefer to ignore politics and conjecture. I just appreciate it as one of the most endearingly peaceful depictions of the crucifixion that exists today.

Something very exciting happened in 2011. This next magnificent painting was identified as Da Vinci’s depiction of Jesus Christ – the “Salvator Mundi”. It is the first Leonardo to be accepted by scholars in more than a century.

“Salvator Mundi” simply means “Saviour of the World”, and is most often a depiction of Christ with His right hand raised and His left hand holding a globe/orb.

I love Da Vinci’s work, and my heart was all aflutter when this piece was declared to be Leonardo’s lost painting of Christ. There is a softness to Da Vinci’s work that I find quite calming and pleasant to look at. It’s both his gentle handling of the paint and the muted colours he uses that create this effect. This is one of my favourites of all his paintings, and I believe, one of the finest examples of his work.

This is a very majestic and regal looking Christ. But what I really like about it is that Da Vinci has somehow captured a look of both innocence and infinite wisdom in Jesus. This Jesus causes a stirring in my soul unlike any other. He seems completely unassuming, yet at the same time commands attention and respect. It’s this expertly executed juxtaposition that makes me want to reach out and touch the painting. It’s so beautifully rendered.

Another artist whose work has an inherently ethereal glow to it is William Adolphe Bouguereau. There are many examples of his gorgeous religious works, but here are two of my favourites.

This first painting, “The Flagellation of Christ”, was done in 1880. Bouguereau paints moments that are seemingly frozen in time. His hyperrealistic style captures the emotion of a single instant, giving his paintings an eerie yet intriguing atmosphere and creating an almost three-dimensional illusion. When I look at this painting, I feel as if I could actually walk through this scene, in and around the people, to take it all in.

Also by Bouguereau, the title of this piece says it all: “Compassion”. Completed in 1897, this is a painting the artist loved so much that he kept it for himself. It was donated by his descendants in 2009 to the Musée D’Orsay in Paris, France.

The painting shows not only this man’s compassion for Christ, but more importantly Christ’s compassion for him, and by extension, all of us. He made the ultimate sacrifice – He gave His own life that we might believe and be saved. “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” ~ John 15:13

This final painting has always been my favourite depiction of Jesus. Warner Sallman’s “The Head of Christ”, 1941.

I’d be lying if I said I knew for sure why this particular version of Christ is so special to me. Artistically speaking, the strong highlights really set off the earth-toned palette of the painting, creating an enveloping richness. As a result, there is a warmth to this piece that’s nearly tangible. Jesus’ expression is calm and stoic, and yet the artist has conveyed such kindness in His face. Like Da Vinci’s Jesus above, this is another example of how a face can display seemingly conflicting characteristics if it’s modelled by the right artist.

As much as I adore all of these paintings and many more just like them, there is one thing that’s always bothered me a bit about the way Jesus is depicted in beating/crucifixion scenes. He’s often so unmarked. There’s very little blood or evidence of trauma. While I can appreciate this aesthetic choice (it’s quite possibly made to emphasize His most recognizable wounds – palms, feet and side), when it came time to paint my own version of Jesus, Isaiah 52:14 kept pinging around in my mind. “… his appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any human being and his form marred beyond human likeness…”

I’m also a big fan of Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ”, and what I liked most about that film was that there was absolutely nothing glamourous or made-up about it. That was a much more true-to-life depiction of our Lord than any other I’ve ever seen.

I completed “Jesus Crucified” in 2008, and for me, seeing Him bruised and bloodied just feels more appropriate.

I certainly won’t say that the other less gruesome portrayals are bad, definitely not. But I do feel that you lose the impact of what Christ actually did for us when the brutality of the whole affair is repressed. And in my opinion, when it comes to art, the message always takes precedence over aesthetics.

But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

~ Isaiah 53:5

Art is many things. It’s a way to document the importance of the past, and it can capture the essence of a moment in the here and now. Through art you can communicate ideas, morals and attitudes, and it’s a way to preserve beauty and history.

And for me, there is nothing more beautiful and worthy of remembrance than my Lord Jesus.

On this day in 1913, one of the greatest actors to ever grace TV and movie screens was born.

Today we celebrate the life of the man who brought Van Helsing and Doctor Frankenstein to life better than any other; Hammer Films’ pride and joy – Peter Cushing.

He’s one third of what I would call the great Trilogy of Terror. The other two? Christopher Lee and Vincent Price, both of whom will celebrate a joint birthday tomorrow on May 27th.

I’ve cited these three men before as my favourite actors. I also said that I couldn’t choose a number one favourite between them. But, after giving this some careful thought and consideration, and rewatching some of my favourite films, I realized that I DO have a stand-alone favourite. And yes, it’s Peter Cushing.

~ Peter Cushing as Van Helsing in “Horror of Dracula” (1958)

As with Lee and Price, Cushing’s roles in the realm of horror are what I feel to be his very best performances. I think it’s safe to say that my favourite fictional character of all time is the unrivalled master vampire slayer, Van Helsing. And there’s no doubt that Peter Cushing’s portrayal set the bar for that role so high that it’s never been matched, and dare I say, never will be. Sorry, Edward Van Sloan (“Dracula”, 1931), Laurence Olivier (“Dracula”, 1979), Anthony Hopkins (“Bram Stoker’s Dracula”, 1992), and Hugh Jackman (“Van Helsing”, 2004). You all deserve your 15 minutes of fame, but I’ll take Peter Cushing guarding my back any day over the whole lot of you.

~ Peter Cushing as Van Helsing in “The Satanic Rites of Dracula” (1973)

My post The Art of Fear was written to pay tribute to my three favourite leading men of the macabre. In it, I gave a selected filmography of some of my favourite Peter Cushing films. I touched on a few of them in that post, but in celebration of his 101st birthday, let me highlight a few others for you now.

Do you know what other fictional character I have a real soft spot for? Sherlock Holmes. I enjoy mysteries and who-dunnits probably more than most. Heck, I called my blog “Seeker of Truth”, for cryin’ out loud! It only stands to reason that I’m a mystery-loving Sherlock Holmes fan.

The newest incarnation of the immortal detective definitely does the role justice. Benedict Cumberbatch (or Bendylegs Cucumberstem, or Breathableunderwear Cottonpanties – oh, God, make this ridiculous name parodies sickness stop!!) is a brilliant Holmes in the BBC’s Moffat/Gatiss modernized creation, “Sherlock”.

I’m very tempted to pick Cumberbatch as my favourite Sherlock. Except… you know who else played Sherlock Holmes?

That’s right. Peter Cushing.

In 1959, Hammer tackled my favourite Holmes story, “The Hound of the Baskervilles”. Playing alongside Christopher Lee (as Sir Henry Baskerville), Cushing dons the famous deerstalker and solves the case with grace, dignity, ingenuity, and determination. Puffing away on the detective’s trademark pipe, Holmes along with Doctor Watson (André Morell) hit the ground running in an effort to protect the life of the new heir of Baskerville Hall – Sir Henry – whose life is in danger.

One of my favourite scenes in the film is where Cushing saves Sir Henry from a deadly tarantula “attack”. “Don’t move, Sir Henry, if you value your life,” Cushing whisper-hisses in his unmistakably unassuming yet commanding voice.

I adore this movie. I could watch it on a continuous loop. And I will sing its praises till the Hound comes home. (See what I did there?)

The other role I’d like to shine the spotlight on is Cushing as the surprisingly frightening witch-hunting Puritan, Gustav Weil, in another Hammer film, “Twins of Evil” (1971).

This film is made memorable to most by the real-life Playboy playmate twins Mary and Madeleine Collinson, who play Maria and Frieda Gellhorn, nieces of Weil. It is Hammer, so there is of course some nudity, but for me, it’s Cushing’s zealous but well-intentioned Gustav that steals the show.

“Twins of Evil” is just your typical vampire story, but with Count Karnstein (Damien Thomas) instead of Count Dracula. Throw in a little witch-hunting and boobs and there you go.

It’s not one of my favourites, but it has its moments. Like the beheading of Frieda (the “evil” twin) by her uncle.

I’ll never get tired of seeing Peter Cushing handling severed heads.

I’ve never seen a Peter Cushing film that was bad. A bad script? Bad supporting cast? Yes, at least half of them fit that category. But much like his contemporaries Christopher Lee and Vincent Price, Cushing’s presence alone makes any film watchable.

Peter Cushing died on the 11th of August, 1994. But his legacy continues to live on. To me, he’ll always be horror’s hero. Whether saving a town from bloodthirsty vampires, or solving mysteries with his brilliant deductions, Peter Cushing is the one man of the cinema that I’d always feel safe with.

~ Peter Cushing portrayed Baron Frankenstein in six Hammer films: “The Curse of Frankenstein” (1957), “The Revenge of Frankenstein” (1958), “The Evil of Frankenstein” (1964), “Frankenstein Created Woman” (1967), “Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed” (1969), and “Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell” (1973)

~ Peter Cushing in makeup as the character Arthur Grimsdyke who has risen from the grave for his revenge in “Tales from the Crypt” (1972)

~ Michael Coles (Inspector), Peter Cushing (Abraham Van Helsing), and Stephanie Beacham (Jessica Van Helsing) in “Dracula A.D. 1972″ (1972)

~ Peter Cushing as Dr. Christopher Maitland in “The Skull” (1965)

~ Peter Cushing as Emmanuel Hildern “The Creeping Flesh” (1973)

~ “There is evil in this world. There’s dark, awful things. Occasionally, we get a glimpse of them, but there are dark corners, horrors almost impossible to imagine even in our worst nightmares. There is a Satan.” ~ Professor Van Helsing, “Dracula A.D. 1972″ (1972)

A very Happy Birthday, Peter. I hope you’re at peace with your beloved Helen.

I don’t want to sound gloomy, but, at some point of your lives, every one of you will notice that you have in your life one person, one friend whom you love and care for very much. That person is so close to you that you are able to share some things only with him. For example, you can call that friend, and from the very first maniacal laugh or some other joke, you will know who is at the other end of that line. We used to do that with him so often. And then when that person is gone, there will be nothing like that in your life ever again.

~ Christopher Lee on Peter Cushing

What are the chances that two of THE best actors that have ever lived were born on the same day? The SAME DAY. I spend a good deal of time in the Twilight Zone, but honestly, this sounds like a set up for a really scary movie — as I’m marvelling at this amazing coincidence, I’m also waiting for what must be a terrifying punch line.

“1911: St. Louis, Missouri. The ghosts are moving tonight, restless… hungry. For a remarkable baby was just birthed into the world. This baby will grow into a man. A man desperate for power and control. He will hunt for witches, showing them no mercy. He will seek vengeance many times in his life. And he will terrorize and torment people for his own amusement — making a game of their fear.”

*screen caption* Meanwhile, across the pond, half a world away, eleven years later . . .

“The year is 1922. As the full moon rises over the quiet forests of Belgravia, a wolf howls. For on this day, the greatest evil the world will ever face has been born. This man will become an unstoppable monster with a thirst for blood. This man will spend centuries mummified in a tomb. And this man will be assembled, piece by grotesque piece, by a madman on a quest to play God.”

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d watch this movie. Especially if these two men were portraying themselves.

Today’s blog post is dedicated to the other two parts of my Trilogy of Terror: Vincent Price and Christopher Lee. These two masters of horror were both born on May 27th, which as I just explained, seems like an incredible coincidence. And if that wasn’t creepy enough, those who read yesterday’s post know that my number one guy in the Trilogy, Peter Cushing, celebrated his birthday just a day earlier, on the 26th.

Think about this. The three greatest actors (not only in the horror genre, but in the history of film) were all born in this tiny window of time. I’m sorry, but that’s amazing. And I think it was God’s way of making a fun statement, to be honest!

No one can argue that these three men, all born in a two-day period, were not blessed with talent in abundance. I covered all three of them in last year’s Halloween post, “The Art of Fear“, if you’d like a more in-depth overview of Peter, Christopher and Vincent.

But today, I just want to share a few photos of Lee and Price’s most memorable roles to celebrate their birthdays.

Sadly, Vincent is no longer with us, but Dracula is alive and well and living in London. (A little “Satanic Rites of Dracula” humour for you there.)

Whether playing villain or hero, both Lee and Price poured everything they had into each and every character they portrayed. And for we the viewers, their dedication paid off in spades — incredibly sharp, pointed spades that could be used to stab someone’s eye out if he found himself in the wrong movie at the wrong time.

~ Christopher Lee as Kharis in Hammer Films’ “The Mummy” (1959)

~ Vincent Price as “Dr. Death” in Amicus Productions’ “Madhouse” (1974)

~ Dracula’s demise in Hammer’s first Dracula film starring Christopher Lee, “Horror of Dracula” (1958)

~ Vincent Price as Dr. Browning in “Scream and Scream Again” (1970)

~ Christopher Lee as Fremont, the head of a British intelligence service in “Scream and Scream Again” (1970) 

~ Christopher Lee as the Monster in “The Curse of Frankenstein” (1957)

~ Vincent Price (Dr. Robert Morgan) and Franca Bettoia (Ruth Collins) in “The Last Man on Earth” (1964)

~ Christopher Lee in “El Conde Dracula” (1970)

~ Vincent Price in “The Abominable Dr. Phibes” (1971)

~ Christopher Lee as Franklyn Marsh in “Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors” (1965)

~ Vincent Price (Julian) and Christopher Lee (Dr. Newhartt) in “The Oblong Box” (1969)

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. And in the case of incredible actors like these, this couldn’t be more true. Each of these photos make me want to pop some popcorn and park myself on the couch in the dark for the next six hours.

So on this most unusual but delightful of occurrences, a happy 92nd birthday to Christopher Lee. Wishing you continued health and happiness, my dear sir. And to our beloved Master of Menace, Vincent Price, who would be 103 today, thank you for every wonderful chill you’ve ever sent down my spine. I have an unquenchable thirst for both of you.

Now if you’ll all excuse me, I think I’ll go watch “House on Haunted Hill”.

Ah. At long last. I’m writing this blog post. The wait is finally over. It’s here.

On January 13, 2014, my childhood dream of owning my own Twilight Zone Mystic Seer came true.

There was a knock at the door. I’d only been waiting for this guilty pleasure of mine to arrive for nearly an entire YEAR. (Technically two, because I missed out on ordering from the first batch that was released.) I went to the door. I opened the door. And in walked the mail lady with an ENORMOUS box. And I knew. I knew exactly what it was.

My Mystic Seer.

Ten minutes, two signatures and another $45 later (thank you, Canadian tax laws), I stood in my kitchen, looking at this giant box that held the most expensive, frivolous purchase I have ever made.

Even the extra cash I’d just been robbed of wasn’t enough to dampen my excitement though.

Apparently this is what $60 worth of cardboard looks like. Yes, I paid SIXTY DOLLARS to ship this thing from California to Ontario. Hey, it’s a Mystic Seer. And come Howling Man or Bewitchin’ Pool, I was going to get one.

My new toy was packed like a Russian matryoshka doll. It was just box …

… after box …

… after … well, we’ll get to the last box in a second.

My Mystic Seer is number 207 of 300. Hey, not too shabby! Although considering when I pre-ordered it, I feel a bit gypped. Surely I should have gotten one of the first 100. But a Mystic Seer in the hand is worth… well, a Mystic Seer on your table, I guess. O_O

“Ages 14+”. Pft. Darn tootin’! You don’t give a kid access to the Twilight Zone’s mystic hotline for only a penny! Are you crazy? You want Nate channelling Little Anthony or Talky Tina? Oh, sure. It’s all fun and games until someone gets stuck in a diner eating stale whole wheat bread. I hate whole wheat bread, stale or otherwise.

Inside that last box, was THIS box… *eyes light up, hears angels singing*

I had to look over ever inch of the box before I opened it. I read everything, I looked at the pictures – coming close to pinching myself to see if this was actually happening.

The Seer itself was packed in tight with styrofoam. I had a difficult time getting it out of the box as I was paranoid that somehow I’d break it with all the pulling. But then there it was. I pulled apart the foam… and there it was.

*commences fangirling* :D

The Mystic Seer is quite possibly the most recognizable character from the Twilight Zone series. Notice that I called him a character and not a prop. Because to the poor people in the small town of Ridgeview, Ohio, circa 1960, this little guy was very much alive.

Featured in the second season episode, “Nick of Time”, the unmistakeable devil-headed, fortune-telling napkin dispenser becomes the nemesis of one Don Carter, aka William Shatner.

From the first time I saw this beloved episode, I wanted my own Mystic Seer. Why? Because it’s awesome, that’s why! Do I really need a better reason than that? I think not. So when the opportunity to buy a full-size, fully functioning replica presented itself, I scrimped and saved and finally sprung for one of my very own.

And boy, was it worth it!

If you’re thinking of getting yourself one though, be forewarned – it’s not going to come cheaply. If you live in the US, it won’t be too terrible. If you live in Canada, well… be prepared to dig deep into Jason Foster’s treasury. (Yes, yes, I’m mixing my TZ episode references. It’s called artistic license, guys. Take it up with my Seer! *coughPaulcough*) ;)

The Seer’s list price was $249.99. *chokes* Now, had I lived in Washington, New York or Maryland, the shipping would have been free. North of the border though? It was a steep $67.50. Yikes. That meant a grand total of $317.49. Wow. Like I said, not cheap. So you can imagine how I felt when it arrived on my doorstep with an additional charge of $45 in various taxes and handling costs. I paid a handling fee ON the handling fee! No joke! Felt like I was on Odyssey’s Flight 33. That hidden dinosaur upgrade fee is murder.

And let us not overlook the exchange. With the Canadian loonie once again in the crapper, I paid $400 for this … thing, as Pat Carter would call it.

But… *sighs * He’s SO COOL!

Since this is a review of sorts, allow me to comment a bit on the Seer’s overall quality and construction.

Let me put it simply – this thing is barely worth $100. Now, hang on, I’m not contradicting myself. I just mean that the workmanship isn’t that great. Not considering the outrageous price I paid for it. It’s made in China (what isn’t, right?) and it’s obvious. The body of the Seer has some imperfections that show through the red paint. Some warps, ripples, dings and divots here and there. The painted-on sign also has some rough spots and scuffs.

The fortune-dispensing mechanism required a little fiddling to make it work properly. And the cards have to be perfectly flat (which they weren’t when I first put them in) in order to get them to pop out the front slot. And after about a month of not using the Seer, I had to once again take all the cards out and give them a little twist to flatten them.

There is a removable panel on the back where you insert the cards, and it comes with a key to open the change drawer in the front. And it actually holds napkins on both sides. (Not included, of course. What? You didn’t think that they’d include a whole dollar’s worth of napkins, did you? You only paid $400 for this thing! At that price, they can’t afford to be handing out freebies! Sheesh.)

The Seer’s bobbling head is nicely modelled though, (but not exactly as the original), and even has a rhinestone eye, just like in the episode.

However, it’s little details like the all-important devil’s-head that take a product from good to amazing. And more importantly, from $100 to $400. This Mystic Seer claimed to be a “super deluxe replica” featuring “excellent, series-true detail”, but there are a number of (to me) major design deviations from the original that left me stinging with disappointment. The devil’s head is one difference. But the fonts on the sign are also a bit off. And on the replica, the stars are sculpted onto the body of the Seer. As you can see, the stars are just painted on the original, and have a nice drop shadow and elongated appearance. Also, the spring holding the head onto the Seer is grossly oversized compared to the original, which kind of hurts the overall appearance, in my opinion.

I’m a perfectionist myself, and I crave originality in things, so as I said, I was a tad disappointed at such seemingly unnecessary deviations from the original Seer. But, it’s still a wonderful replica and I don’t regret buying it. I can (reluctantly) let these detail faux pas slide.

However.

There is one inexcusable, unforgivable, major screw-up. The cards. Or lack thereof, to be more specific. Check it out.

There are 24 cards in total. Eight different fortunes, 3 of each, which is nice because when shuffled, you stand an equal chance of getting each one. They look good. The font is… close enough to the original. They’re a heavy cardstock, so they’ll stand up to usage. What’s wrong with them then? The answer can be found in a previous post, “The Mystic Seer’s Words of Wisdom“.

In that post, you’ll find a list of all the fortunes Don Carter gets from the Seer in the episode. The problem is this: There are 15 fortunes in the original Mystic Seer. Not 8. 15. My $400, “series-true detail” Mystic Seer doesn’t even come with all the fortunes it’s supposed to have to be truly authentic. I was NOT impressed to discover this. I mean, come ON, guys. The fortunes are such an important part of this piece! Why would you cut corners here, of all places? This I simply can not overlook. The manufacturers really screwed this up, as far as I’m concerned — whether it was a cost-cutting measure, or whether no one bothered to watch the episode and count the fortunes.

But not all is lost, fortunately. As long as you’re willing to do a little work. On Entertainment Earth’s website, you can download more cards. Either the same 8 designs that came with the Seer, or blank front cards where you can write your own fortunes (which is what I’ve been doing to make my Seer a little more authentic). I do wish that they’d been kind enough to mention what the font used on the cards is though. But with a little trial and error of my own, I found a close, acceptable font. I used Georgia and stretched the letters vertically. I also had to enlarge the first capitalized letter separately from the other letters to make it match the existing look a bit better.

Since I had to do the work anyway, I’m going to do a favour for any other Mystic Seer owners who might stumble across this blog in a search for more cards. Here are the blank cards in an exact-size .jpg file. Feel free to save the image and make up your own cards.

Here’s my certificate of authenticity:

But it was another little piece of paper that would prove to be the highlight moment for me as I became acquainted with Don. (Yes, I’ve named my Seer Don.) Feast your eyes on this instruction paper:

“IMPORTANT: ACCEPTS U.S. PENNIES ONLY!”

Uh… pardon me? Qu’est-ce que c’est, s’il vous plait? >-/

. . .

*stares at Don*

. . .

Wendy (out loud): “Do you mean to tell me I bought a $400 napkin holder that isn’t even going to tell my fortune because I’m a Canadian!?!?!?”

I had some American pennies handy, but of course I did try the Canadian ones too. I mean, they’re pennies. Aside from a different picture, they’re the same size, shape and weight. And sure enough, the Canadian ones work just fine. (Damn you, instruction paper, for making me so upset over nothing!)

Crisis averted! Although there is still the small issue of no more pennies in Canada. Can’t even get a roll at the bank. I’m telling ya, you just can’t win sometimes.

Should you want to get your own Mystic Seer, you can order one from Entertainment Earth at this link. It’s a major purchase, but if, like me, you’re a huge fan of the Twilight Zone, then I assure you, it’s worth, well, every penny. I’m completely tickled to finally own my own piece of history. Don now has a permanent home in my studio and we’re getting to know each other, one penny at a time.

We’re getting along great, aren’t we, Don?

*pulls card*

Er, okay, Don…

We’re friends, right, Don?

*pulls card*

I’m asking you! *looks around warily*

*raps fingers nervously, puts in another penny* You mean… we DON’T get along great…?

*pulls card*

O-kay.

Anyone want a slightly used Mystic Seer…?

Seriously, I’ll throw in the pennies.

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How about you? Want your fortune told by the Mystic Seer, dear readers? Leave your questions in the comments section below and I’ll ask Don!

My name is Victoria Winters. My journey is beginning. A journey that I hope will open the doors of life to me. And link my past with my future. A journey that will bring me to a strange and dark place, to the edge of the sea, high atop Widow’s Hill. A house called… Collinwood.

Vampires, witches, warlocks, ghosts, a severed head and hand, parallel times, mad scientists and werewolves. All of these supernatural elements are pretty commonplace on television today.

In the 1960s, we could watch the good-spirited, friendly, madcap antics of the Munsters and the Addams Family. And Hammer Films was at its peak in theatres around the world. But only one show dared to bring the supernatural to daytime TV. It was a bold, all or nothing, last-ditch effort to save a floundering series. And as anyone who recognizes that opening I quoted above knows, it was a ghostly gamble that paid off in spades.

Today marks the 48th anniversary of the delightfully dark soap opera Dark Shadows. On June 27, 1966, this soon-to-be-supernatural hit aired on the ABC network for the first time.

In the beginning, Dark Shadows wasn’t really anything overly exciting or out of the ordinary. Orphan Victoria “Vicky” Winters (Alexandra Moltke) is searching for links to her past. She takes a job as governess for the wealthy but extremely troubled (and cursed) Collins family. Roger Collins (Louis Edmonds) and his son David (David Henesy) share the great Collinwood mansion with Roger’s sister, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard (Joan Bennett) and her daughter Carolyn (Nancy Barrett). Every weekday, you could tune in and hear a lot of talk about business, finances, dirty dealings, and any other typical headaches of the well-to-do. It was a soap opera. Slow paced, full of dramatic over-acting (and sometimes under-acting by extras) — a small helping of substance, and not a whole lot of style.

But there was something about it that set the show apart right from the beginning. Dark Shadows was on the air for 5 years. It premiered June 27, 1966 and finished its 1225 episode run on April 2, 1971. Even before the show turned full-on supernatural nearly a year after its debut, Dark Shadows still had a delicious air of mystery to it. It was just downright spooky at times.

The wonderful year-one black-and-white videotaped episodes will always hold a special place in my heart. Regardless of what was happening in the scene, it looked spooky. And Robert Cobert’s haunting musical score, which opened and closed every single episode, still gives me goosebumps to this day. And they did have a few supernatural touches practically from the start. There’s the ghost of Bill Malloy in episode 125, and David’s mother, Laura Collins (Diana Millay), was a phoenix. That’s not exactly considered normal in these parts!

So the groundwork was already there to make something special happen. And finally, something very special DID happen in episode 210. The moment that made history, captured in one video still.

Enter one Barnabas Collins (Canadian actor Jonathan Frid) — ancestor of the present-day Collins family, and 200-year-old vampire. Yes, I said vampire. Technically Barnabas doesn’t make his on-screen debut until the next episode when he shows up at Collinwood claiming to be a long-lost cousin, Barnabas, from England, but as far as I’m concerned, that iconic image of the ringed hand rising up out of that coffin to grab Willie is the moment the Dark Shadows we know and love was born.

The character of Barnabas was a hit with the audience. An audience that surprisingly was made up of kids and teens who hurried home from school every day to watch The Vampire and Co.’s latest adventure.

Dark Shadows was constantly redefining itself. Like a phoenix (appropriately enough), each storyline lived to its fullest, then ended, only to be resurrected as something brand new. It truly was a ground-breaking series, and this is one of the reasons why it’s one of my favourite shows of all time.

We begin in the present day, 1967. One of my favourite characters, Dr. Julia Hoffman (Grayson Hall), and Barnabas have had a falling out. For the past few months, Julia has been trying to cure Barnabas of his vampirism. As the body count rises, however, Julia’s conscience has gotten the better of her, and she refuses to continue with her experiments. Barnabas is trying to kill her, and Julia is on the verge of telling the entire Collins family the truth about dear old cousin Barnabas.

Grayson Hall as Dr. Julia Hoffman

It’s been a great story so far. But a major shake-up is looming on the horizon. In episode 365, a séance is held at Collinwood in an attempt to summon the ghost of Barnabas’ long-dead sister Sarah, who has been appearing to people. Sarah takes possession of Vicky, and suddenly the lights go out. She screams, and when they come back on…

Vicky is gone, and in her place is a terrified woman in eighteenth-century dress. Then the scene cuts abruptly to a perplexed and frightened Vicky, who’s standing outside The Old House (the Collins’ home before the Collinwood mansion was built) on a bright and sunny day. “Where am I?!” she cries. Cue Robert Cobert’s spooky cliff-hanger musical score and tune in tomorrow to see what the heck just happened!

Oh, my gosh, I just adore this show! Nearly every episode ended in a suspenseful cliff-hanger just like that. So what did just happen?

Time travel.

The first of many instances of it too. Vicky has been transported back to the year 1795, where along with her, we get to witness firsthand the history of the Collins family writing itself.

1795: Countess Natalie du Prés (Grayson Hall) and Josette du Prés (Kathryn Leigh Scott)

But the time travel isn’t even the best part.

No, my favourite aspect of Dark Shadows is that while the stories change, it’s always the same actors/actresses, just playing different roles. How cool is that? Louis Edmonds transitions from playing Roger Collins to Joshua Collins. Joan Bennett’s Elizabeth Stoddard becomes Naomi Collins. Barnabas is of course himself, pre- his blood-sucking curse days, and so on and so forth with the ENTIRE cast. Maggie=Josette du Prés, Julia=Countess Natalie Du Prés, Joe=Lieutenant Nathan Forbes, etc. And the series continues on in this same vein (no pun intended) for its entire run.

1840: Nancy Barrett as Leticia Faye and Grayson Hall as Julia Collins

It was a brilliant concept if you think about it. The story is always changing, so the audience never gets tired of it. And the actors don’t get bored with their characters, because every few months, they get to be somebody new. Everything is changing, yet staying just enough the same. And the writers/producers really did a nice job of transitioning between storylines. I’ve heard Dark Shadows criticized for its transitions, but whatever. Frankly, some people just don’t know what they’re talking about.

The point of the 1795 storyline was to show us how Barnabas became a vampire. So enter one Angelique Bouchard (Lara Parker). Blonde, beautiful, and a woman scorned if ever I’ve seen one. She’s a very powerful witch who’s in love with Barnabas. This is a soap opera though, so there’s always a catch. Angelique happens to be the servant of Josette Du Pres — Barnabas’ fiancée. *sigh* Crap.

Angelique is the character you love to hate. Lara Parker plays various incarnations of evil on the show, but we also get to see her be completely loveable as Catherine Harridge in the final story — 1841 Parallel Time. She has the most amazing eyes that you’d swear could burn a hole right through someone.

1841 Parallel Time: Melanie Collins (Nancy Barrett), Catherine Harridge (Lara Parker), and Daphne Harridge (Kate Jackson)

Speaking of stories, the Dark Shadows story timeline is a marvel to behold. The show borrowed ideas from a wide range of famous literary sources, and blended it all in the most tantalizing way. Normally I don’t care much for Wikipedia, but in this case, I’m going to make an exception and transcribe from their Dark Shadows storyline page. If you’d like a more in-depth look at the stories set in each time period, click here. (Feel free to skip over this section to continue with the rest of my post.)

1966/7

Victoria Winters’s Parentage, episode 1 to 92.

• Victoria Winters and her role as governess is inspired by the title character in Charlotte Brontë’s gothic novel Jane Eyre.

Burke Devlin’s Revenge For His Manslaughter Conviction, episode 1 to 201.

• Burke Devlin and his motivation for returning is reminiscent of Alexandre Dumas’ novel The Count of Monte Cristo.

Roger Collins’ Mysterious Car Crash, episode 13 to 32.

The Murder Of Bill Malloy, episode 46 to 126.

Laura Collins the Phoenix, episode 123 to 192.

Jason McGuire Blackmails Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, episode 193 to 275.

The Resurrection Of The Vampire Barnabas Collins, episode 202 to 220.

The Kidnapping Of Maggie Evans, episode 221 to 261.

Julia Hoffman’s Attempt To Cure Barnabas, episode 265 to 351.

Barnabas Terrorizing Julia Hoffman, episode 352 to 365.

1795

Angelique Bouchard’s Vampire Curse On Barnabas, episode 366 to 426.

Victoria Winters’s Witchcraft Trial, episode 400 to 461.

• The witchcraft trial involving Victoria Winters is inspired by Arthur Miller’s play The Crucible. Reverend Trask’s fate is inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Cask of Amontillado“

Nathan Forbes’ Manipulation Of Millicent Collins, episode 419 to 460.

1968/9

The Mystery Of Jeff Clark, episode 461 to 665.

The Creation Of Adam, episode 466 to 636.

• The character of Adam is inspired by Mary Shelley’s horror novel Frankenstein.

The Dream Curse, episode 477 to 548.

Elizabeth’s Fear Of Being Buried Alive, episode 513 to 672.

• This storyline is inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Premature Burial“

Nicholas Blair’s Scheme To Create A Master Race, episode 549 to 633/634.

Chris Jennings’ Werewolf Curse, episode 627 to 700.

The Ghosts Of Quentin Collins And Beth Chavez Haunt Collinwood, episode 639 to 700.

• The character of Quentin Collins and his role are inspired by Peter Quint in Henry James’s gothic novel The Turn of the Screw.

1897

Barnabas’s Mission To Save David Collins, episode 700 to 839.

• The heartbeat that tortures Quentin is inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Tell-Tale Heart“

Jenny Collins The Mad Woman In The Attic, episode 707 to 748.

• Jenny Collins is inspired by the character of Bertha from Charlotte Brontë’s gothic novel Jane Eyre.

Laura Collins The Phoenix, episode 728 to 761.

• Worthington Hall and Gregory Trask’s running of it is inspired by Charles Dickens’s novel Nicholas Nickleby.

Magda Rakosi’s Werewolf Curse On Quentin, episode 749 to 834.

• The portrait of Quentin Collins is inspired by Oscar Wilde’s gothic novel The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Gregory Trask’s Manipulation Of Judith Collins, episode 762 to 884.

• Gregory Trask’s fate is inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Cask of Amontillado“

The Hand Of Count Petofi, episode 778 to 814.

• The hand of Count Petofi is inspired by W. W. Jacobs’s short story “The Monkey’s Paw”. Quentin’s torture is inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Pit and the Pendulum.”

The Creation Of Amanda Harris, episode 812 to 850.

• The theme of an artist falling in love with his own creation who is brought to life by supernatural forces is reminiscent of the classic Greek myth of Pygmalion.

Barnabas’s Infatuation With Kitty Soames, episode 844 to 885.

Count Petofi Body Swaps With Quentin, episode 849 to 883.

• The character of Count Petofi is based on the real-world Count of St. Germain, a Georgian-era courtier and man of science who claimed, and possibly was, the son of Francis II Rákóczi. In the 19th Century, Theosophist legends claimed that he attained the secret of immortality.

1969/70

Barnabas Falls Under The Control Of The Leviathans, episode 886 to 950.

• This storyline is inspired by H. P. Lovecraft’s shared universe known as “The Cthulhu Mythos.”

The Mystery Of Grant Douglas And Olivia Corey, episode 888 to 934.

• This storyline is inspired by the Greek mythological tale of Orpheus and Eurydice.

Chris Jennings’s Werewolf Curse, episode 889 to 978.

The Leviathan Child, episode 891 to 929.

Jeb Hawkes The Leviathan Leader, episode 935 to 980.

1970 Parallel Time

The Death Of Angelique Collins, episode 969 to 1060.

• This storyline is inspired by Daphne du Maurier’s gothic novel Rebecca.

Cyrus Longworth’s Experiment, episode 978 to 1035.

• This storyline is inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson’s “chilling shocker” short novel The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

1995 / 1970 / 1840

The Destruction Of Collinwood, episode 1061 to 1070.

The Ghosts Of Gerard Stiles And Daphne Harridge Haunt Collinwood, episode 1071 to 1109.

• This storyline is inspired by Henry James’s gothic novel The Turn of the Screw.

Barnabas’s Infatuation With Roxanne Drew, episode 1081 to 1150.

The Head Of Judah Zachery, episode 1117 to 1138.

Judah Zachery’s Possession Of Gerard Stiles, episode 1139 to 1197.

Quentin Collins’s Witchcraft Trial, episode 1162 to 1197.

1841 Parallel Time

Bramwell Collins’s & Catherine Harridge’s Love Affair, episode 1186 to 1245.

• This storyline is inspired by Emily Brontë’s gothic novel Wuthering Heights.

The Cursed Room Lottery, episode 1194 to 1245.

• This storyline is inspired by Shirley Jackson’s short story “The Lottery”.

1970 Parallel Time: Cyrus Longworth (Christopher Pennock) and Sabrina Stuart (Lisa Richards)

When it comes to Dark Shadows, it’s hard to pick a favourite time/storyline. But the Leviathans is one that I very much enjoyed. A little boy who grows up into a man in a very short period of time, some creepy, mystical folklore, and a cult devoted to ancient shape-shifting beings. I say “Why the heck not?”

From the Leviathan storyline: The Naga box , Leviathan altar, and Megan Todd’s Naga locket

The dream curse, the hand of Count Petofi, and all of 1970 Parallel Time were also great fun and well-written stories. Such a varied cast of characters in each! The sets and costumes on Dark Shadows were spectacular. It was a magnificent feast for the eyes.

Dark Shadows certainly fits the category of a “cult classic”. Fans like myself love the show, while others hate it. But it was quirky and fun and it always delivered. It never took itself too seriously. Much like “Batman”, another of my favourite shows which also debuted in 1966, the campiness is part of what makes the series so endearing.

A favourite pastime of Dark Shadows fans is watching for slips, flubs and a myriad of other bloopers that have become synonymous with the show. Sure, it would be easy to look at the seemingly overabundance of “errors” and scoff. But that’s what helps give Dark Shadows so much character. Seeing the boom mic, a bat’s string, scripts on a bed, dead people blinking, broken and poorly placed Chroma Key effects, or a too-slow-to-get-out-of-the-shot stage hand only enhances the viewing experience.

Ben Stokes with Chroma Key Barnabas in episode 411

One thing to remember is that Dark Shadows was produced live-to-tape, which means, no do-overs. Or very, very few. If an actor forgot his lines? They didn’t stop taping and start the scene over. They had to keep going. Other actors in the scene would try and cover while you can practically see his eyes moving as he stares at the teleprompter. And on a few occasions, you’ll even hear someone off stage SAY the line for the actor, who then repeats it.

In the middle of the series, Dan Curtis also produced two Dark Shadows films: “House of Dark Shadows” in 1970 (photo), and “Night of Dark Shadows” a year later.

I can remember one particularly bad scene in the tower room of Collinwood, where Joan Bennett (as Elizabeth Stoddard) forgets her lines. But she’s facing away from the camera, making a quick glance at the teleprompter impossible. She just stands there for a few seconds, fidgeting as she fights the urge to turn around. Finally you hear someone off camera say, “Go the Old Ho –” and she immediately remembers the line and says it before he can even finish. “Go to the Old House and find Barnabas” is what the line was, if memory serves me correctly. (If anyone knows for sure, please feel free to correct me!)

Joan Bennett and Louis Edmonds ~ A legendary film actress, Bennett really wasn’t cut out for the no-editing style of Dark Shadows taping. She quite often stumbled over her lines.

Dark Shadows was a cornucopia of creepy characters. Angelique may be my favourite character, but Grayson Hall was my favourite actress on the show. Doctor Julia Hoffman was so curious, inquisitive, sensible and smart. She was fearless, and the delightfully expressive Hall was perfect to play her and a host of other sly and cunning ladies.

Other notable characters are of course Quentin Collins (David Selby), Professor Timothy Stokes (Thayer David, who also played the memorable Count Petofi), Nicholas Blair (Humbert Allen Astredo), and the menacing reverend Gregory Trask (Jerry Lacy), who I think deserved his own spin-off show. And I had a definite soft spot for Willie Loomis (John Karlen) too.

Count Petofi, Quentin Collins, Prof. Stokes, Reverend Trask, Nicholas Blair

Barnabas (Jonathan Frid) confronts Willie (John Karlen) and Maggie (Kathryn Leigh Scott)

And let’s not forget about the famous Collinsport Afghan! While it might be a stretch to call this famous travelling blanket a “character”, another fan-favourite sport is scouring episodes to find the same blanket turning up all through space and time. In nearly every timeline, in nearly every set on the show, with nearly every character, this spectral prop can be found.

Sure, it’s silly. But more importantly, it’s fun. And that’s the one ingredient a series needs to survive the test of time. Television and film are supposed to be about escaping harsh reality, where all too often the innocent are punished and the guilty go free. Where everything is serious and glum and negative. (Like far too many shows today are.) And when you tune in to a show like Dark Shadows, for that one half hour every weekday, you can be transported to another world where it’s okay to just relax and enjoy what you find there. Where it’s okay to stop thinking about what’s wrong in your own life and just be entertained by the ridiculously fun adventures of someone else’s.

For 48 years, Dark Shadows has been endearing itself to generation after generation. This little slice of television heaven has stood the test of time – past, present, future and parallel! — to remain the prime example of how to achieve perfection in imperfection. It just works.

Happy anniversary to those who brought Dark Shadows to life, including creator Dan Curtis, preeminent writers Ron Sproat and Sam Hall, director/producer Lela Swift, and the amazing cast of unforgettable characters and the actors who so brilliantly portrayed them.

Our revels now are ended.

These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air.

And like the faceless fabric of this vision, the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea all which inheritance shall dissolve, and like this insubstantial pageant faded to leave not a rack behind.

We are such stuff as dreams are made of.

And our little life is rounded with a sleep.

~ Jonathan Frid, “Beyond the Shadows”

October 28, 1954 – July 7, 2000

The righteous perish, and no one ponders it in his heart; devout men are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death.

~ Isaiah 57:1-2

Miss you, Mom. ♥

Wendy Brydge – “Self-Portrait of the Artist at Twenty-Five” – 2014

Every painting begins with an idea.

Rod Serling once said, “The instinct of creativity must be followed by the act, the physical act of putting it down for a sense of permanence. Once you get that prod, that emotional jar, that “I have witnessed something.” Or “I have felt something.” Or “I have seen something.” Or, through observation, “I have been moved by an event.” I think the answer is, “Get it down. Get it down quickly. Write it down.”

That right there is the best advice any artist — be they writer or painter — will ever receive. When you get that magical *spark* in your mind, that little glimmer of inspiration? You grab it, hold tight, and run with it as far as it will take you.

Ideas build on ideas. But inspiration can be fleeting. Maybe you see an image in your head as you’re drifting off to sleep at night. Or perhaps you read something interesting, or hear something unusual, and it makes you want to process and use that information somehow. When that happens, I urge you to do as the talented Mr. Serling said: GET IT DOWN. Any and all of it. Before it’s gone.

* * * * *

I’ve always found portraiture to be a fascinating study. And I have an undying love of still life paintings. One thing I always thought would be interesting is combining the two.

In January 2012, I completed the following commission piece:

“Still Life Portrait: Megan”

Wendy Brydge – “Still Life Portrait: Megan” – 2012 – 14″ x 18″

The painting was commissioned by the parents of a good friend as a surprise gift for her upcoming birthday. The only problem was that they had no idea what I should paint. So I pondered. I thought about what Megan’s tastes were, what I thought she’d enjoy, and what things made me think of her. And then inspiration hit me like a ton of bricks, right out of the blue — a still life portrait. A painting that encapsulated what made Megan, MEGAN. A symbolic representation of my friend. Not just the things she liked, but the things and character traits that make her unique.

A good painting should make you think and ask questions, and more importantly answer those questions. This painting isn’t just something pretty for Megan to look at and enjoy. No, it has the added bonus of SHOWING people who Megan is. Like a little snapshot of her “essence”. She loved it, her parents (who footed the bill!) loved it, and it’s one of my personal favourites too.

In fact, I liked it so much that I simply had to paint one for myself.

Every artist thinks about a self-portrait at some time in his life. And I’d been designing and redesigning mine for a number of years. My favourite self-portrait is Albrecht Dürer’s 1500 “Self-Portrait at Twenty-Eight” (which is what I’ll be turning in a few days).

Dürer’s richly-coloured Christ-like portrait is what helped inspire my never-completed original self-portrait design seen here. But this new prospect of a visual representation of ME told through objects, tone and atmosphere instead of my face alone was so deliciously exciting that only a week after I finished my portrait of Megan, I began designing my own.

As I said, every painting begins with an idea. And the only logical way to decide what things would make the final cut in my self-portrait was to write down every little thing that came to mind. Anything that could potentially go into the painting was put to paper. Write first, purge later.

As you can see from the above photo of my notebook, I started out with a huge list of possible candidates. I’ve pointed out before that when creating a painting, 50% of the work happens before a drop of paint ever touches the canvas.

I work out all the details on paper first, making notes and sketches and deciding on specifics. It’s very efficient, but it’s also necessary for someone like me who craves order and organization, and who needs to SEE something concrete on paper before making it a reality.

One of the most important aspects of a painting (or blog post!) is the title. I know many people don’t fuss over titles, but to me, they’re of great importance. Especially 100+ years down the road when your masterpiece is found in some long-abandoned attic, and the first thing everyone wants to know is, “What’s this about?” When you aren’t there to answer, a well-chosen title can do it for you.

When I began this in February 2012, I was 25 years old. Twenty-five sounded like as good a time as any. So I titled this painting, “Self-Portrait of the Artist at Twenty-Five”. The goal was to have it completed before I turned 26 that August.

Needless to say, THAT didn’t happen. A number of personal issues factored into the delay, but what was important was that the design reflected me, as I was, at age 25. The completion date would have no bearing on that, and I did finish the design within a month of starting this project.

Yes, yes, there are Christmas decorations in the background. Why? Because at my house, February is still too early to take them down. Don’t judge me.

Normally when designing a painting, I take/find photographs of the individual items, sketch each one separately (or in a small grouping if the items are already scaled correctly), and then I digitally create the composition I like. This allows me the freedom of easily moving items around and resizing them, without committing myself to the first attempt, or having to re-sketch everything each time I make a dramatic change. But this special piece lent itself to a traditional still-life set-up, as you see above. To be able to SEE most of the elements IN THEIR element, so to speak, was incredibly helpful to visually-oriented me.

Having a physical “set” allowed me to really get in there and see ahead to the final composition layout. I selected books for my set-up based on their size and shape, then changed the spines later to the books I wanted them to be. One of the nice things about art — if it doesn’t exist, or you can’t find exactly what you want? You just MAKE it.

After much deliberation and item whittling, this is how my final design looked.

The full-size template

The two main differences between my still life and the one I painted of Megan are the orientation (hers is a vertical portrait style, mine is a horizontal landscape), and more importantly, the background colour.

October 8, 2012

Making my background black added a tremendous amount of work to this piece. As I explained in a previous post, the graphite paper I use for transferring my image from template to canvas, DOESN’T show up on black. So painting the entire 16″ x 20″ canvas black first wasn’t a viable option. But black backgrounds are definitely me, so I did the transfer and then painted AROUND the image.

But enough technical talk. How about a look at the overall painting as it progressed? Click on any image to open a nifty slideshow view of the images that you can then scroll though!

Every painting is a labour of love, but this one more so than most. I mean, this painting IS ME. And I had so much fun designing it.

Allow me to delve a little deeper for you and point out some of the items, as well as the fun symbolism I “hid”. Plenty of my likes are obvious. I adore books. Real books. Made of out paper and stamped with ink. Practically every room in my house has a bookcase. Here I highlighted my favourites: Peter Pan, Sherlock Holmes, Dracula, and Dante; Hamlet – my favourite Shakespeare play, and of course my very first (and favourite) Nancy Drew mystery. A book on Da Vinci, one of my beloved Encyclopedia Britannicas, and “Bitten”, the first book by my favourite author, Kelley Armstrong. The Latin inscription on the remaining book, “Non Timebo Mala”, means “I Will Fear No Evil”. I’ve always had a penchant for Latin phrases and this line from the 23rd Psalm was one I definitely wanted in the piece. (It also happens to be inscribed on the Winchester Colt in the television show Supernatural, which I’m a big fan of.)

The open book is an illuminated manuscript — another type of book I have a passion for. A little Christian symbolism on the page and it became more recognizable than just a Bible, which is what it began its life as on paper.

I’m a girly-girl. I like things that are shiny, sparkly, pretty, and pink. So naturally, I also love flowers. Lilies and orchids are among my favourites. I wanted the painting to have a very full and rich feeling to it, all while maintaining a strong sense of delicate femininity. The flowers, the two nail polish bottles (the only two colours I actually use!), the perfume bottle (Beyoncé’s “Heat Rush” — my signature scent!), and that empty ornate frame, all give the piece a soft touch of glamour to help balance the heaviness of the books and other “harsher” elements.

And the sweet peas behind the perfume bottle have a completely personal meaning. My dad has called me “Sweet Pea” since the day I was born.

Paint bottles, tubes, an empty palette (always looking forward to my next new project), and brushes (modelled using actual items I use practically every day) were a necessity in a painting that represents an artist. And what better way to celebrate my being a proud Canadian than with a maple leaf. In fall colours, as that’s my favourite time of year.

Another reason this still life self-portrait type of painting is so interesting, is that you really get a good sense of how your tastes can change within just a matter of a few years. If I were redesigning this painting today, my beloved Doctor Who sonic screwdriver (the 10th Doctor’s, of course! David Tennant — forever the ONLY Doctor!) sadly would not make the final cut. To add a little “life” to the painting, I chose to have the screwdriver emitting its familiar blue glow.

Now how about that skull? Magnificent, isn’t it? Sorry, I enjoy skulls. I really do. A lot of the wonderful classic still life paintings I like so much have a skull in them. And the fact is, I just plain wanted one in mine. They look cool. I’ve always been fascinated with them. A replica human skull (which this one was modelled after) has been sitting in my library for as long as I can remember. The nicest thing about the skull though is that it’s so incredibly symbolic, that I can list a number of secondary reasons I included it in this piece. I was really into BBC’s Sherlock at the time I painted this, and HE had a skull on his mantelpiece. There’s the skull of Yorick in Hamlet, and when you view the skull in conjunction with the bird perched on top of it? Well, that’s just a whole other barrel of fun.

Fan of my blog? Then you know how much I adore Edgar Allan Poe’s haunting poem, “The Raven“. “In there stepped a stately Raven… perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door…” The skull, the chickadee, and the raven’s feather is my little artistic twist on this classic image from Poe. I have a number of wild chickadees that I’ve tamed over the years (see the last pic on my About Wendy page), and sometimes those little guys exhibit the “mien of lord or lady”! Like the squirrel in this painting (Cutie Pie), these wild creatures are my “pets”, and they needed to be a part of my self-portrait. Also note the writing nib I added to the raven’s feather the chickadee is holding. Another nod to Poe, the writer, and also a little acknowledgement of my own dabbling with the written word.

Another staple of a classic still life painting is some ripe, juicy fruit. I chose the orange and strawberries for two reasons. Firstly, they do happen to be my favourites. But also, it was an aesthetic choice. Orange and red in that spot is what looks best. Green kiwis or yellow bananas just wouldn’t be a good fit here. This complements what’s in the immediate area, and also adds to the overall colour harmony of the piece. That’s something artists should remember when working: Even though you may be focusing your attention on one small area at a time, you must always be thinking of the piece as a whole. Balance and harmony are achieved not only through what you put and where, but are also reliant on the colours you use.

On the scroll is one of my favourite Bible verses, Psalm 119:105: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” A name/scripture verse plaque hung on my bedroom door while I was growing up, and this was the verse paired with my name, which may help explain my fondness for it.

I’m infatuated with classic statuary. Every day I enjoy the three pieces of it that grace my studio. One of the most beautiful and recognizable statues in the world is Michelangelo’s David.

Naturally I wanted to pay tribute to one of the world’s greatest artists. But what’s special about this element of the painting is the inscription on the David statue’s base: MCMLXXXVI, which is 1986 — the year I was born — in Roman numerals. I added the banner to him so that I could include my favourite Bible verse, Psalm 27.

The most meaningful element of my self-portrait is the little pile of dominoes and marbles. I grew up playing dominoes and Chinese Checkers with my grandma Brydge. Those two games are our thing. The items pictured in the painting are the actual dominoes and marbles we used — she was always the yellow marbles, and I was always the orange. And the best part of the whole painting, the one thing that ties it all together and made me feel incredibly clever and sneaky? The visible dots on the dominoes add up to twenty-five. *bows low*

What is it about portraits that makes them so endearing? Be it a portrait painted or photographed, an actual representation or something more symbolic like this painting? My answer to that question is in the tagline above my signature.

“Non Omnis Moriar” — I Shall Not Die.

Portraits have a sense of permanence to them. What’s portrayed in them is a tiny flicker of immortality. They take that which will die or that which is already dead, and keep it alive and even bring it back to life. As long as my portrait exists, does not a part of me still live? Leonardo Da Vinci said, “How many paintings have preserved the image of a divine beauty which in its natural manifestation has been rapidly overtaken by time or death. Thus, the work of the painter is nobler than that of nature, its mistress.” Everything mortal dies. The flesh passes away, but the spirit exists for eternity. I believe that portraits are our modest way of trying to capture and hold onto that which is fleeting. An artist spends his days searching for the spark of life, and when he finds it, he does the only thing he knows to do: He paints it. He gets it down. And quickly. As quickly as he can anyway. He writes it down in paint. For is not life itself the greatest inspiration of all?

As Henry Ward Beecher wrote, “Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.” So isn’t there a piece of the very soul itself in an artist’s self-portrait? And the soul never dies. It lives on forever.

~ Non Omnis Moriar

I had this beautiful frame (which I restored myself) picked out for my self-portrait before I designed it. How you frame a piece of art is just as important as the art itself. For me, this was a perfect pairing. The frame neither overpowers nor underwhelms the piece. The two just complement each other nicely.

I am Dracula. I bid you welcome.

When Universal Studios released “Dracula” in 1931, I don’t think anyone imagined the worldwide obsession that would follow. Bram Stoker’s novel was already 34 years old, and “Dracula” wasn’t the first vampire film. But this was the first time the audience was introduced to a charming and dapper Count Dracula; a villain they wanted to love.

In England, in 1924, “Dracula” the stage play was the first adaptation of the novel authorised by Stoker’s widow. In 1927, the play came to America and in his first major English-speaking role, Hungarian actor Bela Lugosi donned the famous Dracula cape for the first time. And a legend was born.

Lugosi and Edward Van Sloan (Van Helsing) both acted in the stage play and then reprised their roles for the Universal film.

Béla Ferenc Dezső Blaskó was born on October 20, 1882. “Dracula” was his claim to fame, but as is the sad destiny of many actors, he was the victim of typecasting and would never be free of the horror villain role that made him famous. His heavy accent also limited his future acting opportunities.

 I am definitely typed, doomed to be an exponent of evil.

“White Zombie” (1932)

There’s no question that Lugosi is best remembered for his role in “Dracula”, but his other films are certainly worth a second look too. “White Zombie” (1932) is a creepy tale of mind control and the walking dead. Lugosi also paired up with fellow Universal horror legend Boris Karloff in a number of films: “The Black Cat” (1934) and “The Raven” (1935) most notably. A personal favourite of mine is the lesser-known “The Corpse Vanishes” (1942), and of course the Universal classic “The Wolf Man” (1941) where Lugosi plays the character of Bela — the son of a gypsy fortune-teller who is responsible for turning Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr.) into a werewolf.

Lugosi’s career and health deteriorated over the next decade or so, and his final (and dialogue-less) film appearance was in the heavily scorned “Plan 9 From Outer Space”. Both the film and its director Ed Wood have been dubbed “the worst” (worst movie ever made/worst director ever). Lugosi died before the film was completed, but footage shot of him still made it into the final product.

He may have ended on a low note, but Lugosi has never (and will never) be without a faithful legion of friends and fans. And thankfully, his mesmerizing and charismatic portrayal of the most famous vampire in history will forever outshine any duds that may be lurking in his film closet.

Bela Lugosi suffered a heart attack and died on the 16th of August, 1956 at the age of 73. A showman to the end, he was buried in his Dracula costume. When friends and fellow horror masters Peter Lorre and Vincent Price came to pay their respects, Lorre quipped to Price, “Do you think we should drive a stake through his heart just in case?”

Today, on the anniversary of his death, we remember this talented actor from Hollywood’s Golden Age. His career may not have been as diverse as he wanted, but if you’re an undying fan of classic horror like I am, then his fright-heavy filmography doesn’t bother you one bit.

I’d like to close this post with the words of Forrest J. Ackerman, who wrote this touching memoriam for his close friend, the Immortal Count. May he live forever.

*****

Dracula is dead.

Requiem for the Generation of Vampires.

Black Mass.

A thousand stakes through his heart could not keep him from resurrecting nightly, but at last the Grim Reaper has had his way.

On 18 August 1956, Bela Lugosi lay for the last time in the coffin from which he would rise no more. Scant weeks before, my friend and I had been photographed and televised together just two blocks away on Hollywood Blvd. At the premiere of his “Black Sleep”. Now the true, the final black sleep had come to Bela. A tired, ill, suffering, disintegrating, grateful-for-friends old actor was gone.

He lay in state as Count Dracula, complete with cape and ring and medallion. Among the many who passed by his coffin to pay their last respects were Zoltan Korda, Tor Johnson, Manly P. Hall, Don Grollman, and Bela Lugosi Jr. All saw that he looked magnificent in death.

In death?

But Bela Lugosi will never really die.

Through the miracles of motion picture and television, as long as there are those who enjoy the frisson of horror, the fun or fear of the fantastic, the shock and thrill of science, there will be revivals of the films in which he starred.

Hail, but not farewell, Bela Lugosi.

*****

45 years ago today, my favourite cartoon of all time premiered. “Scooby Doo, Where Are You?” was the first incarnation of what would become one of the most beloved TV shows in the world.

This group of teenagers and a scaredy-cat dog have devoted the last 45 years of their lives to chasing down bad guys. Bad guys who like to scare the pants off of everybody while they commit their crimes. Freddy, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby Doo have never backed down from a challenge. In fact, in the likely event that no one believes you’re being haunted by Merlin’s ghost or the Headless Horseman? Who ya gonna call? Yep. “Mysteries Inc”.

Neither monster, nor criminal, nor scary locale, nor creepy night stays these meddling kids from the swift solving of any mystery. If Scooby and the gang had an official creed? This would be it.

Season 1 Title Card

The first two seasons of “Scooby Doo, Where Are You?” (1969/1970) are made up of 25 half-hour episodes. Scooby kicked off season 1 with a spooky suit of armour in “What a Knight For a Knight”, and they wrapped the second season with a menacing wax phantom in “Don’t Fool With a Phantom”.

While not my favourite Scooby series, season 1 is classic perfection, and tough to beat. Most will remember the still entertaining but less spooky season 2 for those mandatory musical interlude chase scenes. Gotta admit, I never cared much for those.

Season 2 Title Card

But it was the next round of Scooby mysteries that I truly fell in love with. In 1976, Scooby Doo returned to Saturday mornings with a brand new show, “The Scooby-Doo Show”.

These are 40 of THE greatest Scooby Doo mysteries, including my number one Scooby episode of all time: “To Switch a Witch”.

Scooby Doo is still going strong to this very day. There have been many other incarnations of the show, countless movies (including a few terrible live-action flops), and merchandise/collectibles galore.

The collectible side of Scooby Doo is something I know quite a bit about, considering I am an AVID collector of it. I have a weakness for this wonderful cartoon Great Dane, and at 28 years old, I don’t see my passion for him slowing down one bit.

My Scooby Doo Collection

One of my most prized possessions is also one of my very first Scooby pieces. He came from a flea market in Pickering, Ontario, and I was 4 or 5 years old when I got him. He was almost as big as me, and I just fell in love with him. The vendor was packing up for the day, and I practically begged my dad to get me the giant Scooby. Pretty sure it was $30. With a smile, he said, “If you go and ask the man if you can have him for $25, then we’ll buy him.” Those who know me now might find it hard to believe that I was quite a shy little thing, and I just couldn’t do it. Thankfully, my dad wasn’t about to see me in tears, and in a few minutes, I walked out of there all smiles and hugging my new Scooby Doo. (And my dad only paid $25 for him. The man could hear everything and was smiling while my dad gave me the pep talk.)

I was tickled not too long ago when I found this old vintage advertisement online.

The ad is supposedly from a 1985 Hanna-Barbera Mighty Star Toys catalogue. Mine is the largest 44” Scooby. Man, would I like to get my hands on that Scrappy Doo though! (And do NOT be hatin’ on Scrappy on my blog, people. No, not even you, Paul!) ;)

So many happy memories and so many Saturday mornings (and every other day of the week too) surround this timeless cartoon character. Scooby, I hope you live forever.

Happy Birthday, Scoob ol’ buddy, ol’ pal, ol’ friend. Here’s your cake, and yes, you can eat it too. After 45 years of mystery-solving, you deserve it.

I once heard John Schneider (Bo Duke, “The Dukes of Hazzard”) say that there were only two kinds of people in the world: Addams Family people, and Munsters people.

There are countless variations on that “two kinds of people” phrase, but this was one I found particularly interesting.

Two series, premiering only a week apart, on two rival networks. The same genre, the same basic appeal. On the surface, “The Addams Family” and “The Munsters” may seem easily interchangeable. But when you get right down to brass tacks (or His & Her’s beds of nails), they are two VERY different creatures.

The first of these two series was the devilishly macabre “The Addams Family”, which premiered September 18, 1964 — 50 years ago today — on ABC. Like its CBS counterpart, it ran for only two seasons, ending a 64-episode run on April 8, 1966.

“The Addams Family” was the darker, more serious-feeling of the two. Here you had the ideal family: A husband and wife who were madly in love, and two children who rarely caused their parents any grief, sharing a mansion with an eccentric uncle, a quirky grandmother, and a butler. There was even a picket fence. Well. Sorta. It’s made of metal, and Gomez keeps the tips filed sharp… but yeah, there’s a fence.

They’re the perfect family, but with a creepy little twist. They are like THE ultimate fans of horror.

What I like most about “The Addams Family” (and many other series from the ’50s and ’60s) is that it was entertainment and fun created out of pure innocence. No one ever tries to hurt anybody. There is no hate-filled dialogue. The family named Addams might as well have been called Cleaver. The only real difference between the two was Ward’s love of golf vs Gomez’s penchant for fencing. Ward had a den, Gomez had a torture chamber playroom. The Cleavers loved bright, warm, sunny days, and the Addamses thrived when it was dark, gloomy and thundering. Beaver played with marbles, Wednesday chopped the heads off her dolls. Okay, so they’re not exactly the same.

But “The Addams Family” and “The Munsters” were to me, two of the most important television shows ever produced. Because they took what society THOUGHT was the norm, and proved that “normal” has nothing to do with external appearance, and everything to do with the kind of person you are INSIDE.

Put “Leave it to Beaver” alongside “The Addams Family” and for one second look past the things that make them different. What is the “normal”, ideal family? It’s not defined by your clothing or your job, what car you drive or what you eat for dinner. Simply put, it’s the family that loves each other.

Today we are constantly bombarded with such negative imagery on TV. Fighting, hatred, violence and bloodshed. Families ripped apart and feuding amongst themselves. How I long for the glory days of old, where television was an escape from the harsh and cruel realm of reality! Today people would rather watch “Game of Thrones” and spend the next 72 hours feeling like they’ve been mind-raped, than to see the silly, harmless antics of a kooky family with a pet lion, a severed hand, and a morose Frankenstein monster for a butler.

Kitty Cat, Thing, and Lurch

Sad. Just sad. We need shows like “The Addams Family” to cleanse our palates after enduring 45 minutes of 95% of the filth on TV today. The class is gone. The fun is gone. And “morality”? What’s that? Watching the shows of today feels more like punishment than privilege.

Well, I, for one, am tired of all the negativity. I want to take the time to celebrate these rare gems of television history. Starting with “The Addams Family”.

♫ They’re creepy and they’re kooky, mysterious and spooky, they’re altogether ooky, the Addams Family. ♫

For 50 years we’ve sung along to that most recognizable of theme songs, snapping our fingers as we go. As the opening credits roll, we smile as Gomez files the tops of his fence to sharp points; we laugh when Morticia snips the blooms off her roses. And we’re treated to a quick peek of their museum-like house where “people come to see ‘um.” They really are a scream, you know, the Addams family. *snap, snap*

The series was based on the cartoon characters created by Charles Addams, whose wacky family began appearing regularly in the weekly magazine The New Yorker in 1938.

Like any series, a cool idea is only half the battle. To be successful and win over the hearts of viewers, you need an exceptional cast to execute the story. Chemistry is so important, especially among the two main characters. And it’s even more important when they’re an on-screen couple.

TISH. That’s French! *kiss* Speak some more. *kiss* Au revoir. Avant-garde. Ooh la la! *kiss*

Is there any greater television couple than Gomez and Morticia Addams? As far as I’m concerned? No, there really isn’t. They are the quintessential romantic couple. If you want to see what true love really looks like? Just sneak a peek at these two.

This is what love should be! A flurry of kisses, passionate adoration and unbridled madness driven by a powerful longing for one another. The phrase “I just can’t get enough” comes to mind whenever I see Gomez and Morticia in a scene together. They can’t get enough of each other, and I can’t get enough of them not getting enough… of, er… each other. :P (Try saying that five times fast and you’ll sound like Cousin Itt.)

Cousin Itt

But you can’t write chemistry like that. Either it’s there, or it’s not. Once John Astin was cast as Gomez Addams, the search was on for his Morticia. A number of actresses tried out for the role, but as you can see from the following photos, each one fell dreadfully short of the mark.

Then in walked Carolyn Jones. And just LOOK at them.

And so the world’s greatest couple was born. They are the heart and soul of “The Addams Family”. I don’t even have to say anything more about that. This photo speaks for itself.

And the rest of the cast didn’t disappoint either. Every weird, zany character was complemented by an outstanding actor or actress. I think that characters are truly the most important aspect of any show. A crappy story can be carried by excellent characters, but boring, lackluster characters/actors will drag down the most well-written script. Thankfully, back in the 1960s, the networks knew what they were doing. It was the best of both worlds.

Morticia Addams

Sexy yet demure, Morticia Addams is a lady in every sense of the word. Whether she’s driving Gomez wild with a line of French, knitting, painting or exercising her musical prowess, Carolyn Jones’s Morticia exudes an unrivalled degree of femininity, grace and class. She is definitely one of the greatest on-screen female characters ever. She is the true anti-feminist — living proof that you can be treated like a goddess and still be a smart, sexy and extremely capable woman.

Gomez Addams

Gomez Addams is a successful, eccentric billionaire who loves cigars, fencing, and knife-throwing. He enjoys an occasional bounce on his trampoline and he explodes into a ball of white-hot passion whenever Morticia speaks French. Or, let’s be honest, whenever she just walks into the room. There’s no denying it: He’s wild about her. John Astin plays Gomez with such a wonderful dramatic flair. His trademark moustache, pin-striped suits, and jovial grin are pure over-the-top silliness and fun.

Pugsley Addams

Gomez and Morticia’s son, Pugsley Addams, looks like a regular little boy. But with a pet Octopus, a love of dynamite, and a keen interest in tinkering, building and engineering, he’s anything but regular. Ken Weatherwax plays the character in such a refreshingly polite way. It’s so nice to tune in to an old show and see well-behaved children. Today, there seems to be no such thing.

Wednesday Addams

Cute as a button with her braided pig-tails and often slightly grim expression, little Wednesday Addams likes to play with dolls. Her favourite? Marie Antoinette, who — true to life — is missing her head. The show didn’t really focus on the children (each were in only about half the episodes), but some of the sweetest, most memorable moments are of tiny Lisa Loring palling around with her gigantic buddy Lurch (Ted Cassidy).

Uncle Fester

What can be said for Uncle Fester? We all know him best for his unique ability to illuminate a light bulb simply by putting it in his mouth. Fester is Morticia’s uncle (in this 1960s incarnation of the Family) who enjoys putting his head in a vise (literally) and tightening the screws. Jackie Coogan plays him as a lovable oaf-type character, which suits him to a tee, both physically and fundamentally.

Lurch

“You rang?” Ah, Lurch. Truly my favourite character on the show. This gentle lumbering giant of a man is the Addams family’s faithful butler. Often shown playing his harpsichord, Lurch is always around when you need him. A man of few words (and a few grunts and groans), Ted Cassidy created a pensive, wistful and slightly awkward butler — characteristics that blend together into something truly special. The Family would be incomplete without their beloved Lurch.

Grandmama Addams

Blossom Rock (aka Marie Blake) plays a cute character. She looks a little witchy, she dabbles in witchy things like fortune-telling and potions, but to the family, she’s simply their loving Grandmama.

Thing

“Thank you, Thing,” as Morticia would say. Thing is a very helpful disembodied hand who appears out of a series of boxes in nearly every room of the Addams’ house. A disembodied hand, that’s right. Why, you ask? Just because it’s awesome. Thing was usually played by Ted Cassidy, but on occasions where Lurch and Thing appeared in a scene together, assistant director Jack Voglin would step in and… lend a hand.

So I ask you, what’s NOT to love? Creepy, kooky, mysterious and spooky — that really does sum it up right there. If you’re a fan of horror but you also enjoy a delve into the lighter, more humourous crypts of life? Then “The Addams Family” is the show for you.

Hmm, I never answered that opening question myself, did I? Am I an Addams Family person, or a Munsters person? Well, Gomez and Morticia will always be my favourite TV couple, but I’m a Munsters girl, hands down. And on September 24, we’ll take a little trip. Our destination? 1313 Mockingbird Lane.

Oh, look, our ride’s here! I call shotgun!