Thrillville

The Thrillville Video Jukebox: Greatest Hits

2012-01-31T18:59:00.000-08:00

I recently uploaded a backlog of archival Thrillville footage culled from years of media exposure to my "MrThrillville" YouTube channel, to augment and complement my Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection and Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room book trailers already posted. It took me so long to do this simply because I didn't know how to convert DVD-Rs to MP4s, but when my pal Mark Bowen of Le Video in San Francisco hepped me to something called Handbrake, which I could download for free, the floodgates were opened. Below is a comprehensive compendium of videos that collectively relate the history of Thrillville, including my public relationship with my beloved wife and "lovely assistant," Monica Tiki Goddess. Without further ado, I'll allow this historical (hysterical?) visual documentation to speak for itself:

"Talkin' Pictures with Jan Wahl," discussing The Midnight Lounge

and introducing favorite film clips, 1998:

The first legendary "Creature Features" reunion at The Parkway, October 2000:

KTVU's Mornings on 2, promoting Elvis D-Day, August 2000:

KRON news coverage of my protest of the remake of Ocean's 11, 2001:

Our segment of a 2001 French documentary, Viva Las Vegas?:

Our infamous appearance in the "foot fetish" segment of HBO's Real Sex 24 2000:

The greatest Thrillville gig ever: our epic wedding at the Cal-Neva Resort in North Tahoe,

May 31, 2001:

Thrillville's Big Holiday Turkey Roast at the Parkway, December 2007, with
The Twilight Vixen Revue performing Xmas burlesque in a cold theater with a broken heater...

Discussing Thrillville on SF360 Movie Scene (our segment starts halfway in, at 15 minutes),

May 2008:

"Thrillville's Papapalooza," with guest star, my father Robert Viharo, Parkway Theater, May 2008:

KPIX program Eye on the Bay, featuring Thrillville's debut at the Cerrito, February 2007:

"Welcome to Thrillville" tribute montage by Sci-Fi Bob Ekman, featuring my theme "Thrillville"
by The Moon-Rays:

"Ten-O-Win," short film by Christian Bruno using footage from Thrillville:

Thrillville on Creepy KOFY Movie Time, discussing my road shows, Oakland Mai Tai campaign, and Bachelor Pad Magazine column, September 2009:

Plugging my new novel A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge

on Creepy KOFY Movie Time, September 2010:

The Best is yet to come. Cheers!

IT CAME FROM THE NEW PARKWAY! Plus! Tiki Goddess Meets Police Woman!

2012-01-22T19:21:00.000-08:00

I had a feeling 2012 was going to be a landmark year for me, at least professionally, and so far that hunch is holding true. Within the course of a few days, I experienced three milestone events, two of which may prove life changing, and all of which were certainly life affirming.

At the site of The New Parkway, 24th @ Telegraph, Oakland

First, I announced on Facebook last Friday that I was offered and have accepted the position of Publicist/Special Events Consultant for The New Parkway, opening later this summer or fall at 24th & Telegraph, at the remote end of Oakland's miraculously resurgent Uptown district, so it'll be a big part of the Oakland Art Murmur's First Fridays events (I'll be at the site on Friday, February 3, for an open house), plus it's accessible via public transportation, and right near a shimmering strip of hoppin' bars, restaurants and nightclubs, so it's already in good company. I very much look forward to working with entrepreneur J. Moses Ceaser and his team, and infusing the converted warehouse with the spirit of the original Parkway, as well as the community still mourning its loss. I plan to bring back a lot of beloved programs while introducing new concepts, so it will be a healthy and hopefully successful mix of the best of the past with the potential of the present and the promise of the future. So far this news has been greeted with great enthusiasm by former patrons, and we won't let them down. (Read my Examiner interview with Moses here.) Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in...

Cover art by Michael Fleming

Later that night, my friend and writing partner Scott Fulks informed me that our ambitious collaboration It Came From Hangar 18 just went live on Kindle (purchase here). The print edition is coming soon; he sent for some proof copies to check out before we approve a large batch for our official Book Release Party at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge on Thursday, March 1, with live music by sci-fi surfers The Tomorrowmen. This is the fruition of a lot of hard work - I wrote most of the 500+ plus page epic from Scott's initial sketchy outline, fleshing out his skeletal crew of characters, then adding a massive cast as I developed the story, bouncing ideas off of Scott, who then infused his own highly complex original scientific theories, which I then smoothly integrated into the text. There's simply nothing else like it out there, and I have high hopes for it.

Tiki Goddess meets Police Woman!

With Angie Dickinson, Castro Theater, 1/21/12

Last but not least, last Saturday night, Monica and I attended our pal Eddie Muller's incredibly popular, world famous film festival Noir City where we met guest of honor Angie Dickinson, appearing with two of her vintage cult crime classics, The Killers (1964) and Point Blank (1967), both co-starring one of my favorite movie tough guys, Lee Marvin. Eddie interviewed her on stage during intermission, but before the show, Monica and I got to meet and chat with her in the Castro Theater's mezzanine, and it was a surreal pleasure and true honor. Angie is 80 years old this year, but is as lively and beautiful and sexy as ever, on top of being amazingly sweet, gracious, friendly, and witty. Monica told her how much she admired her iconic role as Pepper in the legendary '70s television series Police Woman while growing up, and I told Angie how much I loved her in the Rat Pack classic Ocean's 11 (1960) and Roger Corman's Big Bad Mama (1974), co-starring William Shatner. She loved the fact that I host an annual tribute to Big Bill costar called Shatfest. She couldn't have been nicer, and we couldn't have more thrilled.

Anyway, 2012 is off to a swingin' start. Hold on tight, it's gonna be an awesome ride. Cheers.

SHADOW MUSIC and NEON ROSE: sonic blasts from my literary past

2012-01-13T19:34:00.000-08:00

As many novels as I've published recently, there are many others I haven't (yet), and may never publish, for various reasons - too personal, too unpolished, too lazy, etc. You can get a taste of some of my early work, when I aspired to be a serious "literary" author like my former idol J. D. Salinger, with two radio programs adapted from unpublished material, now available for your listening pleasure, courtesy of Soundcloud. Both shows were professionally produced and broadcast by KPFA, based in Berkeley, CA.

First, there's Neon Rose, my painfully autobiographical 1989 novel written after I went to visit my natural mother in Brooklyn, New York. She suffered from schizophrenia, and was a virtual stranger to me. I also visited my high school sweetheart in New Jersey, now a nurse in Philadelphia, with whom I'd had a star-crossed affair when she came to visit me in San Francisco. This 45 minute segment captures both of these elements, which were later recycled for the Vic Valentine novel Romance Takes a Rain Check (now available). The live reading was part of KPFA's "Morning Reading" program, originally broadcast, as I recall, in January, 1990. The producer apparently thought the book was about to be published, though for various reasons, it remains buried in my closet, perhaps never to see the light of day. Except for this excerpt. Listen to Neon Rose online here.


My first published short story, Berkeley's Daily Californian, 8/28/87

Next is Shadow Music, a more ambitiously executed radio play with music, sound effects, and several actors, produced by Vinnie Beachum, adapted from my 1992 novella, and broadcast on December 2, 1996, when I was working as a video clerk at Movie Image in downtown Berkeley. It's a much more mature work, I think, and echoes of the plot, about people who can hear celestial music coming from an unknown source, first introduced in a published short story of mine called "Night Notes," later resounded in my recent novel A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge. In fact, "Night Notes," which appeared in a literary 'zine out of Arizona called Expression, was set at The French Hotel, where I worked as a desk clerk, and which served as inspiration for the setting of my recent novella Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room. Anyway, this particular radio program, and the writing, really hold up, I think. You can check out Shadow Music online here.

The first "Thrillville"at the Parkway poster, when the show was called "The Midnight Lounge", 1997

Listening to these shows again, digitally transferred from ancient cassette tapes, preserved for posterity and uploaded online for mass consumption, really brought me back to my literary roots, making me feel a bit melancholy, since my youthful ambitions have not yet been fully realized, but also making me feel like I've come full circle, finally pursuing and achieving my dreams. Anyway, I hope you take the time to appreciate these spoken word relics, created long before there was a Thrillville, or a Parkway. I really think you'll enjoy them. Cheers.

"It Came from Hangar 18": the back, and The Future

2012-01-03T00:13:00.000-08:00

It's only the very beginning of 2012, which promises to be a very good year, dire predictions by the Mayans notwithstanding, and I'm already looking at it from the rear view: Here is artist Michael Fleming's back cover to my forthcoming sci-fi epic (co-written with Scott Fulks), It Came From Hangar 18, the front cover having been previously revealed, and as you can plainly see, this will be unlike any other book of its genre ever written. I completed the novel and turned it over to Scott this past December 29. Publication is pending, probably later this month, stay tuned for details as I'll be promoting the hell out of it. Scott and I will be doing several book signings together, including Tiki Oasis 12 in San Diego this summer. Watch the skies.

As "El Santo Claus," Forbidden Thrills Feliz Navidad Fiesta, 12/19/11

With my Tiki Goddess, New Year's Eve Vegas Lounge Party at Forbidden Island (photo by Gabriel Hurley)

Meantime, my next Forbidden Thrills movie nite at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda on Monday, January 23, 7:30, features a cheapjack double chill-thrill-bill of sleazy tropical terrors, Horrors of Spider Island (1960) plus King of Kong Island (1968), with the usual leftover prizes and free popcorn. Be there, aloha.

Oh yea - the Parkway is apparently going to reopen, twice, at least in spirit, sometime in the late Summer of Fall. I'm not directly involved with either effort, but still, that's good news for Oaktown. UPDATE: Check out my Examiner interview with the New Parkway Guy, J. Moses Ceaser.

Remember to check out Examiner movie column, my daily web series reviews at PlaceVine, and of course, please subscribe to Bachelor Pad Magazine. I write a regular movie column for that publication as well, so you can tell your girlfriend you read it for the articles. Happy New Year. Cheers.

Cheers to 2011; Aloha 2012

2011-12-20T00:25:00.000-08:00

My 20th annual Elvis holiday card

Overall, 2011 was a pretty good year - chiefly because I celebrated my tenth wedding anniversary with my beloved Tiki Goddess. I also published four books (including Lavender Blonde and the two Vic Valentine Double Features, Fate Is My Pimp/Romance Takes a Rain Check and I Lost My Heart in Hollywood/Diary of a Dick), and wrote two: the bizarro novella Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room and, with Scott Fulks, a sci-fi pulp epic like no other, It Came From Hangar 18, which is due out in early 2012 (all the rest are currently available in various formats via my Thrillville Pulp Fiction page). But I also lost some dear personal pals to untimely death, most painfully longtime buddies Ben Putman and Rob Beckley, along with famous friends Tura Satana and David Hess, so I'm left with both a strengthened spirit and a broken heart. Still, even with these mixed emotions, I'm really looking forward to the new year. There are a lot of new movies I'm greatly anticipating, especially the unprecedented slate of superhero flicks (The Dark Knight Rises, The Amazing Spider-man, The Avengers, Man of Steel and the latest 007 entry Skyfall; check out my list of the Top 11 of 2011 in my Examiner column here.) I also have some choice B classics lined up for my monthly movie nite, Forbidden Thrills at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge. And of course I'll keep producing and pimping my own pulp. Happy Holidays to Thrill Seekers everywhere. Here's to a brighter future. Cheers.

Attack of the Pulp Fiction Writer: more press, & more!

2011-11-23T16:17:00.000-08:00

This great profile piece just came out in the East Bay Express, by Stefanie Kalem, describing my public evolution from "Will the Thrill" to "Will the Quill," and furthering my agenda to re-introduce myself to the people who know me only as "the Parkway Guy."

This is exactly the kind of press I need, following hot on the heels of this San Francisco Bay Guardian article/interview about my pulp fiction. Hopefully, much more media exposure is in the cards.

The Express piece also plugs my Forbidden Thrills movie nites at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda. Next up, Monday December 19, 7:30: I'm throwing a "Feliz Navidad Fiesta" featuring those festive Mexican B classics The Brainiac (AKA The Baron of Terror, 1962) and Curse of the Aztec Mummy (1957). Salud!

Me with comic book legend Steve Englehart

Speaking of Forbidden Thrills at Forbidden Island, one of my childhood heroes, famous Marvel/DC comic book scribe Steve Englehart swung by my recent screenings of Attack of the Crab Monsters and The Flesh Eaters, and I had him sign some copies of "Captain America and The Falcon" I've been holding onto since 1973! It was quite an unexpected honor. He's a very nice, humble guy and it really made my night. My year, in fact.

Happy holidays, cheers.

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": THE TRAILER

2011-11-01T16:25:00.000-07:00

Below is the stylish, sensuous animated book trailer for my gonzo-bizarro-pulp novella FREAKS THAT CARRY YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM, the latest addition to the Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection. It was created by up-and-coming Oakland filmmaker Vincent Cortez with illustrative assistance from Aaron Jasper and Tim Houston, and had its "world premiere" at Forbidden Island's annual Hulaween Party. As you can see from these stills, it perfectly evokes the darkly erotic, horror-noir world depicted in the book. Enjoy. Cheers.

As El Santo, with my geisha girl, Monica Tiki Goddess,
at Forbidden Island's Hulaween Party, 10/31/11

and speaking of trailers....next at my monthly cult movie nite, Forbidden Thrills at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, Monday, November 21, 7:30, no cover: It's a "Sci-Fi Seafood Jamboree" featuring Roger Corman's ATTACK OF THE CRAB MONSTERS (1957) plus more island terrors in THE FLESH EATERS (1964). Be there. Aloha.

IT CAME FROM HANGAR 18: the cover

2011-10-26T20:03:00.000-07:00

For months on my Facebook page I've been teasing about my "Top Secret Freelance Writing Project," concurrently concocted with my gonzo-bizarro-pulp novella FREAKS THAT CARRY YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM, which is now available. Now I can tell you this much: I'm almost finished working on IT CAME FROM HANGAR 18, originally conceived by my co-author Scott Fulks, a fellow frequenter of Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, though trust me - this will be perhaps the ultimate Will Viharo pulp novel. It will be available in early 2012. Below is the back cover blurb. More details will be revealed about this epic very soon, long before its release, but for now, here is the fantastic cover by artist Michael Fleming. For further updates, stay tuned to this blog and the official Facebook fan page. Aloha.

IT CAME FROM HANGAR 18 is the most action-packed, erotic science fiction epic since The Bible - but with even more sex and violence! IT mixes hardcore sex with hard science, conspiracy theories with conspicuous satire, mythological monsters with mutated mobsters, flesh-eating feminists with voyeuristic vampires, and creates a potent literary Tiki cocktail pulsating with pulp, planets, pulchritude, politics, and a plethora of other “p” words. This is essential end-of-the-world desert-island flashlight-under-the-covers reading, the ultimate B movie in literary form, and the most tantalizing textbook in the annals of anarchic academia.

Happy Halloween! "Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room" is NOW ON SALE!

2011-10-11T15:53:00.000-07:00

Cover art by Christopher Sorrenti, who also edited the Thrillville Pulp book trailer.

My latest pulp fiction project, a gonzo-bizarro-erotica-horror-noir called FREAKS THAT CARRY YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM is now on sale in both print and ebook editions from Lulu, plus a Kindle edition, with global print distribution via Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and sundry other online outlets in a couple of months or less. Filmmaker Vincent Cortez is working on an animated trailer that should premiere sometime before this Halloween, stay tuned.

Speaking of Halloween, my monthly movie nite, "Forbidden Thrills" at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, on Monday October 24 at 7:30, will be an "Un-Halloween Party" featuring Roger Corman's sexy witchcraft saga THE UNDEAD (1957) plus the ghoulish spookshow THE UNEARTHLY (also 1957) starring John Carradine and Tor Johnson. Both flicks feature Allison "50 Foot Woman" Hayes, one of the most beautiful scream queens in B Movie history. There'll be the usual prizes, free popcorn, surprise shorts and Pulp Cocktails, too.

Also now on sale: Bachelor Pad Magazine #17, another pictorial plethora of pinup pulchritude, along with my regular film column, this one on the timely topic of Zombies!

But I'm really gratified to be offering my own artistic output this Halloween season (my favorite time of year, along with Christmas) rather than merely hosting someone else's work, on screen or stage.

Cheers.

SFBG article on my books: spreading the good (and bad) words

2011-09-14T13:55:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm finally make some progress in reinventing by public persona and successfully reviving my original ambition: Writing. This new San Francisco Bay Guardian interview (both online and in this week's - 9/14/11 - print edition) about my pulp fiction by Sean McCourt goes a long way in updating and promoting my literary career. Dig. Cheers.

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": FINAL COVER

2011-09-05T20:27:00.000-07:00

Here is Christopher Sorrenti's final version of the cover for my bizarro pulp novel FREAKS THAT CARRY YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM, which I'm hoping to publish later this Fall or early Winter. This is my most exxtreme novel yet, a flagrant middle finger poked in the eye of conventional, conservative society. It will offend the sensibilities of both the politically correct & the morally self-righteous. It's crude, it's lewd, and it's definitely not for prudes. It'll also be very short, but very sick. This blog entry contains links to the first four chapters, also posted on this blog, as well as a back cover description. Oakland filmmaker Vincent Cortez, who directed/wrote/scored the excellent indie neo-noir The Hush (you can read my Examiner.com review/interview here), has agreed to create an animated book trailer for it, too. This is gonna weird and wild, even by my standards. Stay tuned...and speaking of freaks, my next Forbidden Thrills movie nite at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge on Monday, September 19, 7:30 features two "Back to School Shockers," AIP classics HOW TO MAKE A MONSTER (1958) plus REFORM SCHOOL GIRL (1957). Be there or be square, cats 'n' kittens. Cheers.

"Kitten With a Whip": cat on a cool tin roof

2011-09-01T12:53:00.000-07:00

KITTEN WITH A WHIP: CAT ON A COOL TIN ROOF

Essay/Review By Will Viharo


Poster by R. Black for Tease-o-Rama/Thrillville screening of "Kitten with a Whip," 2008

“Now cool it, you creep, and coexist!” pretentious beatnik Ron admonishes fellow college-aged delinquent Buck (Skip Ward) when he flips out during a “party” at the affluent San Diego home of prominent, pussy-whipped politician David Stratton (John Forsythe), who is unwillingly (?) harboring a fugitive 17-year-old vixen named Jody (Ann-Margret) after she escapes from a local reform school, critically wounding a matron in the process. Jazz and jive talk abound in the 1964 “thriller” Kitten With a Whip, which primarily existed as a vehicle for the vivacious Ann-Margret, who kicked up her heels with The King that same year in Viva Las Vegas. Already a star due to the success of the previous year’s hit adaptation of the Elvis-inspired Broadway musical Bye Bye Birdie, the awesome A-M cemented her sizzling sex symbol status with this raunchy role, and she remains the sole reason to see it, other than the recycled soundtrack cues from Touch of Evil (1958). It is definitely a fun flick, with a pretty damn dark (if not wholly surprising) denouement that makes it a bona fide J.D./Beat noir, coming at the very tail end of the classic era (some would say several years too late, marking the aforementioned Orson Welles’ malevolent masterpiece as classic noir’s true swan song), along with Brainstorm(1965), The Money Trap (1965), and Sam Fuller’s double dose of decadent depravity, Shock Corridor (1963) and The Naked Kiss (1964). Even boobie baron Russ Meyer was contributing to this late period boon with his “naughty nudie noir” quartet, Lorna (1964), Mudhoney (1965), Motor Psycho (1965) and of course, that ferocious feline fist-fest, Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill! (1965). These pulpy genre-bending “noir hybrids,” screaming sensationalized sin, aimed straight at a drive-in/grindhouse audience, would extend all the way till today, dovetailing with the dawn of the “neo-noir” renaissance arguably beginning with John Boorman’s Point Blank (1967), starring Lee Marvin at his hardest-boiled, kicking off what has proven to be a timeless trend. Kitten With a Whip exudes both a tawdry twilit tinge and a tantalizing taste of tomorrowville, released in tandem with the British Invasion, pushing the sexual envelope, but stylistically still squarely stuck in its own recent past.

The thin plot thread weaves through a melodramatic mosaic of mounting mayhem. The trio of teenaged/twentysomething trouble-makers drag poor dumb David from the safe sanctuary of San Diego down to the exotic, erotic environs of Mexico, making the reuse of Henry Mancini’s famous Touch of Evil score all the more ironic. A-M’s prematurely world weary, organically seductive Jody - jaw-dropping jailbait who comes off like a tigress-temptress compared with today’s prefab/rehab sex kittens - makes mental mincemeat out of the morally conflicted (is there any other kind?) politician, full of sweaty self-righteousness, justifying his compliance as mature concern rather than raw fear. On the menu is a small slice of popcorn psychology sprinkled liberally with cheese, and it all goes down the palate nice ‘n’ easy, even if it makes your stomach a bit queasy. But the hedonistic hipster hijinks on delirious display in Kitten, both less lascivious and less loquacious than Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of Lolita (1962), aren’t bogged down with heavy sociological baggage, despite Jody’s references to incestuous rape supposedly contributing to her amoral attitudes towards life and the world generally. This flick was sold and excels mostly as a salacious tale of forbidden lust not quite satiated, only teased to taunt the titillated audience into dropping their cash at the box office. Kitten was a big studio B flick (Universal), so obviously it was deemed more “sophisticated” and “respectable” than the lowbrow David Friedman/Doris Wishman school of smut ‘n’ sleaze cinema simultaneously sliming screens from 42^nd Street to the Deep South, even as it similarly reflects a schizo society coming to terms with its own restless desires, justifying popular prurient preoccupations by contextualizing them within the acceptable confines of punitive morality. All that is to it’s okay if you wanna take an illicit roll in the hay, as long you realize you’re gonna suffer a fatal case of cat scratch fever as a result, so enjoy your dirty detours into decadence while you can.

These themes still resonate within our contemporary culture, as current headlines commonly sell cyber-ads with torrid true tales of hypocritical, self-humiliating politicos, celebrated for publicly espousing “family values,” being professionally destroyed by their own private dalliances with debauchery (John Ensign, John Edwards, Arnold Schwarzenegger and “Weinergate” being just a few recent examples). What makes Kitten such a kick in the crotch is its mid-century milieu, from the cars to the furniture to the fashions, everybody all dressed up with no place to come. Repression is a common source of rage and regret in many classic noir films, which also relate recognizable tales of self-destruction, but with superior sartorial style. These seemingly superficial features seduce modern audiences into popping these increasingly ancient time capsules like Xanax, both relaxing us with foreknowledge of our collective past while helping us to escape our aesthetically bankrupt present.

Ultimately, Kitten is all fluff with little bite, purring when it should be snarling, pawing when it should be clawing, barely scratching the surface of the deeply conflicted mores it portends to expose and exploit. The Swinger (1966), a colorful comedy starring A-M as a journalist reporting on the Sexual Revolution for a girlie mag, at least features one of her most infamous scenes of sensuality as she rolls around semi-nude on a canvas of psychedelic paints. Carnal Knowledge (1971), boasting A-M’s single celluloid appearance topless, was a much more honest exploration of our national orgiastic obsessions during those tumultuous times. Still, Ann-Margret’s performance in Kitten, one of her most popular roles, and justifiably so, is so sultry, sassy and smart that you’ll hardly notice its flirtatious flimsiness, or care if you do. Sex still sells those damaged goods, suckers. Originally published in altered form, with editorial revisions and rewrites beyond my consent, in Noir City.

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": front artwork and back cover blurb

2011-08-14T20:23:00.000-07:00

Here is the strikingly sexy and spectacularly spooky cover art for my pulp novel in progress, Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room, by Christopher Sorrenti, the very talented filmmaker/artist who edited The Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection book trailer. Once again, I just supplied my designated cover artist with a basic premise - in this case, a zombie-like bellhop carrying bags for a noirish femme fatale vamp - and voila, Chris stepped up and hit it out of the park. I'll post the completed cover (with titular text) when it's ready, which should be very soon, though I'm still in the early stages of actually writing the damn book, aiming for a pub date late this year. I've already posted excerpts on this blog - click here for Chapters One, Two, Three, and Four - and if you find any of it the least bit offensive to your delicate literary palate, I strongly suggest you quit right now, because you ain't read nothin' yet. "Like" and bookmark the official Facebook fan page for more updates and excerpts. I am pulling out all the stops to make this the most graphically lewd, unabashedly crude yet eloquently erotic, sardonically spiritual and even raunchily romantic book I've written yet, both abstract and visceral, repellent yet compelling. It won't be like anything you've ever read - even by me. Below is the back cover blurb, which will give you the basic ingredients to this sick yet seductive stewpot of vile vices run amok amid a decadent den of hedonistic horrors. But it's all in good fun! Stay tuned...cheers 'n' chills, Will the Quill.

Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room is an unrelenting assault of sex and horror, a sensory overload that will blow your mind, all set within the claustrophobic confines of a mysteriously malevolent hotel, frequented by men and monsters alike; a nightmarish nexus of carnal carnage, with flesh-eating Mexican vampires, alien spies, mad scientists, deviant dwarves, horny zombies, teenage werewolves, Elvis impersonators, hit men, hustlers, clairvoyant cats and other random rebels and rejects feverishly fornicating and ferociously feasting beneath the repressive radar of polite society. This is Extreme Erotic Horror Noir, with a dash of satire and a twist of irony, not for the squeamish, but for anyone who wallows shamelessly in the corporeal illusion called Life.

This classic by the Rolling Stones is a recurring song in the book, though the lyrics take on new meaning in this context...

This grindhouse sickie inspired the character of Boris the bellhop....

The Prince of Pulp: "My Quill Is Quick"

2011-07-30T16:31:00.000-07:00

"Beatnik Bash" at Forbidden Island, 8/22/11

My new business cards

I finally made it. I'm actually earning a (very, very modest) living as a freelance writer. I have a cool new gig reviewing all kinds of online series and web channels for PlaceVine; my ongoing Examiner movie column, along with regular film columns for Bachelor Pad Magazine, Varla Magazine, and the Noir City Sentinel; several Facebook/Twitter "ghost-posting" accounts for various clients; a Top Secret Freelance Writing Assignment, the details of which I cannot divulge quite yet; and of course The Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection . On top of all that, I'm still proudly hosting my monthly "Forbidden Thrills" movie nites at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge - the next one is a "Beatnik Bash" on Monday August 22, featuring Roger Corman's A Bucket of Blood plus The Rebel Set, both classics rom 1959. I'm happily and semi-lucratively busy doing what I love, at last. Below is a recent official press release that sums it up all. Now, back to work. Cheers.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

July 29, 2011

Full-time freelance writer and part-time performer Will “the Thrill” Viharo first gained fame as programmer/publicist for Speakeasy Theaters in the San Francisco Bay Area, extending his reputation beyond those borders via his popular live cult movie cabaret “Thrillville,” a retro stage show combining classic B movies with burlesque and bands, performed at the Parkway and Cerrito Speakeasy Theaters on a regular basis for twelve years, followed by a year of “road shows” at various venues around the region. Along with his wife and co-host, actress and model Monica “Tiki Goddess” Cortes-Viharo, Will also presented Thrillville Halloween Shows on an annual basis at Copia in Napa, with side trips to the Werepad, the Vortex Room, the Roxie, the 4 Star and Balboa Theaters in San Francisco; the Camera 3 in San Jose; a special guest appearance at the B Movie Celebration in Indiana in 2008; and several stints for the popular convention “Tiki Oasis” in Palm Springs and San Diego.

After Speakeasy Theaters folded in 2009 and the road shows dried up in 2010, Will returned to his real creative roots as a novelist, resuming a career that had been interrupted by Thrillville, which in fact was conceived as a platform from which to promote his first printed novel, “Love Stories Are Too Violent For Me,” published by Wild Card Press in 1995. The small press was founded by the folks behind Speakeasy Theaters, who asked Will to create and host a midnight movie series, which he initially called “The Midnight Lounge,” in April of 1997. In January of 1999 the show, now a Parkway staple, switched to prime time on Thursdays nights, rechristened Thrillville, which took on a life of its own. Meantime, actor Christian Slater discovered and optioned “Love Stories” for a film. Now, “Thrillville” has finally evolved from Will’s online B movie lounge into official headquarters for his one-man pulp fiction factory.

Will the Thrill is now “Will the Quill,” the self-proclaimed Prince of self-published Pulp. Many of the great artists who created his stunning Thrillville posters have been tapped to supply equally stimulating book covers for all of Will’s eclectic novels, including previously unpublished and unfinished manuscripts, along with current works in progress. He calls them “B movies in book form.”

Part of Will’s marketing scheme was to commission a professional “book trailer,” in grindhouse-film noir style, edited by filmmaker Christopher Sorrenti, and largely shot at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda CA, for which Will currently serves as publicist/music booker, and where he hosts a monthly movie night called “Forbidden Thrills.” Forbidden Island also features “Will the Thrill’s Pulp Cocktails Menu,” literary libations inspired by his novels.

For more information and reviewer PDFs, please contact Will at will@thrillville.net.
Also please visit his web site, which includes purchasing info & the book trailer: http://www.thrillville.net/fiction/index.html

Cheers.

THE THRILLVILLE PULP FICTION COLLECTION, BIBLIOGRAPHY TO DATE:

LOVE STORIES ARE TOO VIOLENT FOR ME (Wild Card Press, 1995; out of print)
Meet Vic Valentine, a San Francisco private eye whose romance is on the rocks, with a twist. Join a twisted hopeless romantic on his personal quest for the truth in his twisted tale of old-fashioned romance gone awry in a shadowy, postmodern world of lovelorn losers, vengeful vice, dangerous deceit and swingin' Sinatra songs.

A MERMAID DROWNS IN THE MIDNIGHT LOUNGE (Thrillville Press, 2010)
A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge is a lushly lurid, exotically exploitative, sensationally sensual pulp-noir potpourri where star-crossed lovers, sea sirens, monster men, gangsters, porno filmmakers, jazz standards, and an Elvis-spawned zombie apocalypse all intermingle across several parallel dimensions in time and space. This story is unlike anything you’ve ever read. (Cover art: Mike Lewis)

CHUMPY WALNUT (Thrillville Press, 2010)
Chumpy Walnut is a nostalgic fable about a guy only a foot tall - lost, alone and looking for love and friendship in a wacky, wondrous world of hobos, gangsters, gamblers, gun molls, showgirls, and other colorful characters. It is a story anyone who has ever felt “small” can relate to. (Cover art: designed by Miles Goodrich, illustrations by Will Viharo)

DOWN A DARK ALLEY (Thrillville Press, 2010)
Down A Dark Alley is a torrid tale exploding with raw romance, savage sex, voluptuous violence, mirthful mayhem and delirious decadence as a sorry sap takes a breathless cross-country walk on the wild side with a ferocious femme fatale, desperately trying to escape a chaotic past and facing an uncertain future. This is hard-boiled but heartfelt neo-pulp fiction for fearless dreamers. (Cover art: R. Black)

LAVENDER BLONDE (Thrillville Press, 2011)
Lavender Blonde is a psycho-sexual portrait of erotic obsession, conveyed in soul-searching conversations between an itinerant jazz musician, raised in a brothel, and a savvy, sexy social worker, exploring and exposing themes and tales of loneliness and lust as the mysteries behind the madness are slowly revealed. (Cover art: Mister Lobo and Dixie Dellamorto)

FATE IS MY PIMP/ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK A Vic Valentine Double Feature (Thrillville Press, 2011)
Fate Is My Pimp picks up the torrid trail of Vic Valentine, Private Eye as he traverses the mean streets of San Francisco and beyond in search of a mobster's missing teenage daughter, encountering various voluptuous vixens, a female surf band, and a stalker leaving him mysterious musical messages, all while infiltrating an Elvis-theme commune for runaways, led by a deviously decadent Deacon Rivers. Follow the further misadventures of the misguided hero of LOVE STORIES ARE TOO VIOLENT FOR ME as he continues looking for love in all the wrong places, and unfortunately for him - finding it.
Plus! Romance Takes a Rain Check finds Vic back on the East Coast, tracking down a lead on his cop father's killer, visiting his mother in an asylum, and reuniting with his high school sweetheart, Dolly Duncan, now married to a doper dentist. Nothing is what it seems, times and people have changed, and Vic is going to learn the hard way - again - that some bones, and boners, are best left buried. (Cover art: R. Black)

I LOST MY HEART IN HOLLYWOOD/DIARY OF A DICK Another Vic Valentine Double Feature (Thrillville Press, 2011)
I Lost My Heart in Hollywood chronicles the strangest case yet in the so-called career of Vic Valentine, Private Eye, as an unlikely tryst with the B movie scream queen of his dreams, Velma Vale, leads him down a dark, twisted path of paranoia, voyeurism, degradation and death. The bizarre action heats up even as his burning loneliness and simmering sexual obsessions flare at the forefront of his tormented consciousness, with caution and common sense cooling idly on the back burner.
Plus! Diary of a Dick tells further tantalizing tales of Vic chasing tail while allegedly on the trail of True Love, all the way to New Orleans and back again, as the femme fatales of his past and present suddenly converge with prurient promises of promiscuity. As always, strings are attached to these erotic escapades, but the ties that bind begin rapidly unraveling, and Vic is left hanging by a thread like a doomed puppet. The mysteries of love have never been more elusive. (Cover art: Rick Lucey)

Work In Progress:

FREAKS THAT CARRY YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM (Thrillville Press, 2012)
“Extreme Erotic Horror Noir” with cover art by Christopher Sorrenti

Stay tuned…

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": Chapter Four

2011-07-07T18:43:00.000-07:00

OK, one more chapter from my pulp novel-in-progress before I put it away, at least from public view, until I finish it. Chapter One is here, Chapter Two is here, and Chapter Three is here. Cheers.

FREAKS THAT BRING YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM

A Novel by Will Viharo

Chapter Four

THE SINFUL DWARF

Boris the bellhop rubbed his grimy little hands all over the nude, voluptuous body of his boss, Clara Cleaver, as she lay strapped, nude and unconscious to a dirty table in the basement of L'Hotel du Frisson, with bloody pieces of rotting corpses strewn here and there around the dank, dark "dungeon," amid tables full of glass jars containing human organs floating in strange fluids. Once a prominent surgeon, Boris Yakov lost his practice, his career, and his Russian citizenship when he botched the heart surgery of a prominent Russian ballet dancer who had suffered a near-fatal seizure after overdosing on diet pills, and whom Boris happened to be secretly in love with. He blamed the tragedy on his nervousness, since he couldn't stop shaking as he operated on her. He had been shaking ever since her death, which everyone blamed on Boris, including Boris. His self-loathing ran deep in his tortured soul.

Clara had been hidden down here for nearly two days, and Boris knew he'd have to release her soon, before suspicion was aroused. She often vanished for days at a time anyway, away on trips to undisclosed locations, drinking and fornicating, or so the stories went. Clara was very lonely as well. Not only had her husband died on their honeymoon, leaving her a small fortune with which she purchased this very hotel, but she had lost several babies, some via abortion, some via miscarriage, and two that were stillborn. She felt cursed by the universe, and often wanted to die. Instead, she had random, unprotected sex with willing strangers, hoping one would impregnate her with a child that could be brought to term. It was a procreative crapshoot.

The dwarf, Boris, was in love with Clara and knew of her birth-challenged plight, and he wanted to help her by helping himself. He had drugged her by spiking her customary morning latte from the cafe, then lured her down to the basement, where she never ventured, knowing Boris had lived there for years, before she purchased the building, and she was afraid of what she'd find. He always creeped her out, but she couldn't find it in her heart to fire him. Perhaps she would if she regained consciousness while he licked her bosoms and torso and legs and feet, running upstairs to masturbate in one of the empty rooms when he became aroused beyond endurance, because he didn't want to defile her, not while she was unconscious, anyway. He wanted her to love him, and he knew if he could cure her barrenness, however surreptitiously, she would love him forever, just like Katarina, the beautiful ballerina who died on his operating table back in Moscow, twenty years ago.

There was a thunderstorm raging up above, which Boris could hear through the basement's single window, the lightning illuminating horrible things. Boris paid off the local mortician for access to corpses on which Boris could conduct mindless, pointless experiments. The problem was, Boris had no idea what he was doing. He had a vague notion of bringing the Dead back to Life, but was unsure exactly how to go about it. He paid the mortician with money he stole from the seemingly endless stash of cash hidden in the back of the closet of one of the residents, whom everyone called The Mantis Man. Boris had seen The Mantis Man's hideous collection of shrunken heads, but didn't think much of it. Since he had keys to all the rooms, Boris could come and go as he please, and he wound up searching all the guest's rooms during their stay, when they weren't in the rooms, of course, stealing whatever he could, but mostly just sitting on their beds and masturbating, often with whatever feminine undergarments or lingerie happened to be handy. He hoped The Mantis Man never discovered that he was constantly stealing his cash, which The Mantis Man apparently never counted. The worst thing that could happen would be that The Mantis Man might kill him. That wouldn't be so bad, really. Boris just didn't want to die a fifty-eight year old virgin.

In her coma-like state, Clara was dreaming of her past, as a hot young stripper in various nightclubs on the Eastern seaboard, including Atlantic City, where she once had a one night stand with a young Elvis impersonator, now named Danny Falco. She had been engaged to a Jersey mobster at the time, but he broke it off when he discovered her many affairs. He didn't kill her, though, because he loved her too much. He just sublimated his heartbroken rage by killing everyone she had ever slept with. Except for Danny, who disappeared without a trace. Clara was in love with Danny and offered him sanctuary at the hotel, under an assumed name. His real name was not Danny Falco. He had changed his name so many times, he didn't remember what it used to be anymore. It didn't matter. He never knew himself very well, anyway, and was always open to change on his journey of self-discovery. He told Clara he loved her, even though she knew he was lying, just so he could rest for a while under auspices. She just wanted him close to her, to perpetuate the illusion of romance and domestic stability that had always eluded her. Clara was thirty-eight, eight years older than Danny, who truthfully claimed he had never been in love with anyone. They still had sex sometimes, even though their trysts often left her lonelier than ever. So much sex. So little love.

Clara suddenly moaned as Boris was eating her pussy, and he stopped suddenly. He had another erection and wanted to go back upstairs and relieve himself, but now all the rooms were booked, except for the room where Clara slept, which was as sacred as her womb and could not be violated, so he had no choice but to go to his own little bathroom and jerk off in the sink, which he hated to do, mainly because he had to stand on a stool to do it. He didn't want to ejaculate anywhere near, on or inside Clara, not until she was in love with him, and ready to bear his child. Boris knew Clara was in love with Danny, which is why he had told those gunmen where to find Danny. He wanted Danny out of the way, preferably permanently.

Sensing she was snapping out of it, though she would not be able to recall anything following her first sip of the spiked latte, Boris whistled and a very large mute brute, chained to the corner of the basement, stirred. The mute brute, like Boris, was horribly deformed, not due to the fickle cruelty of Nature, but as a result of Boris's bizarre experiments. The brute had once been just another guest at the hotel, a disgraced football player, kicked out of the league for steroid abuse. His name was simply LeRoy, born African American, but now his skin color had been lightened via Boris's various injections, so now he resembled an albino. He had no mind of his own. He was simply Boris's slave.

"Take her upstairs and leave her in The Scarlet Room," Boris told him as he unlocked the shackles. "Be careful, it is late but someone may be about. Use the secret staircase. Hurry, before she comes to."

The seven foot tall LeRoy nodded sadly and walked toward the table in the center of the room as Boris undid the straps. LeRoy lifted Clara's nude body and entered the service elevator, which he rode up to the third floor. The Scarlet Room was left unlocked so LeRoy could deposit Clara inside quickly, then return to the basement undetected. As a reward, Boris often fed LeRoy scraps of human flesh, for which LeRoy had developed quite a taste.

After LeRoy gently laid Clara down on the scarlet bed, he stood and admired her beauty, then put his tongue on her bosoms, then her face and mouth and neck, and was working his lips down her body when she suddenly opened her eyes, and screamed.

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": Chapter Three

2011-07-07T00:01:00.000-07:00

This is the third chapter of my latest pulp project (Chapter One, with some background on the genesis of this concept, is posted here; Chapter Two here.) Naturally, as a work in progress, this is all subject to change prior to final print publication, but it will give you a good idea of where I'm going with this, even if I'm not totally sure myself. Christopher Sorrenti, who edited the book trailer for the Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection, is working on the cover, which is very exciting. Once it's done, I'll share it on this blog and then create a Facebook Fan Page for this particular piece, which will include further updates and excerpts (if not complete chapters.) The Mantis Man is loosely based on a true life character who used to frequent the cafe in Berkeley's French Hotel, where I worked in the early '90s. Anyway, hope you dig it. Cheers.

FREAKS THAT CARRY YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM
A Novel by Will Viharo

Chapter Three
THE HEADHUNTER

The Mantis Man was alone in his room at L’Hotel du Frisson, dreaming of better days, which would be any day prior to whichever one he was currently living. His isolation and dementia were progressive, and linked, but he didn’t see it this way. He loved living at the hotel, even though it was somewhat expensive, despite the bargain rate deal he had worked out. The hotel only had a few indefinite residents. The Mantis Man had amassed considerable personal wealth before retiring from his career as a headhunter and moving to this town, and he lived fairly simply, rarely venturing outside the confines of the hotel and adjoining café. He had nowhere to go, and no one to love. He subsisted on a steady diet of denial. And burritos.

He was eating one now, brought up from the cafe, while he watched an old Mexican horror move with the sound down low. The female star seemed vaguely familiar; he assumed because he’d seen her in another movie before, or maybe even this one. The Mantis Man was losing touch with reality. He didn't miss it much.

The phone rang, and, cursing, he put down his burrito, got up and answered it. It was Dick, up at the front desk.

"There's a phone call for you; shall I put it through?"

"Yes." The Mantis Man lit a cigarette and took a drag on it.

"Hey, it's Vic," said a voice on the phone. "I tried calling your cell, but there was no answer."

The Mantis Man took a puff and said, "Yes, the battery is low."

"I can relate," said Vic. "I"m tired so I'll make this quick. Your boy Danny Falco? The guys who want him are well connected, back in Jersey. I know people who know them. Not nice."

"I know all that," The Mantis Man said. "I'm familiar with their ilk. That's not what I wanted to know. What I want to know is - "

"Why they want him, I know," said Vic. "Gambling debts, and some other things."

"Like what? Details, details. That's why I hired you, Valentine. The rest of it I could guess, for Chrissake."

"Well, apparently, he fucked some wiseguy's fiancée," Vic said. "I know the type. I'd love to kill him myself. Maybe I should be a hit man for hire instead of a private dick?"

"I'll take care of it from here. Goodbye," The Mantis Man said, and abruptly hung up. "I should've just hired the ghost of Johnny fucking Staccato," he muttered to himself.

The Mantis Man then went to his closet and pulled out his customary trench coat and derby hat, relics from his youth, hanging just beside the row of shrunken heads he'd collected from his side gig as a voodoo priest. He knew how to raise the Dead. He learned a lot of tricks from his Haitian masters when he lived in New Orleans back in the 1950s. He just didn't see the point in prolonging anyone's agony. He wasn't quite that sadistic. He'd rather see everyone just die and leave him alone, anyway. It was raining heavily outside, but that was not an issue. He hardly ever went outside. There was nothing out there for him anymore. He often wore his coat and hat anyway. It made him feel like he had someplace to go, even if he didn't want to leave. Ever.

The Mantis Man reached down, picked up and opened a shoebox at the bottom of his closet and took out a little blonde male doll with overalls, that he called "Chumpy Walnut." It was his best and only friend. He removed it and set down the box.

"We're going to have a party for our friend Danny," The Mantis Man said to the doll.

He sat back down and finished watching the Mexican monster movie, completely unaware that the actress on the screen was now in the room right below him, a half century after the film had been made but just as youthful and beautiful, feasting on the life-giving fluid she sucked from Danny Falco's cock, biting his groin to add the crucial nutritional supplement of blood to her meal. Unfortunately, she could not live on sex alone - violence was also part of her diet. Blood and semen: the secret of Life, and the alchemy of the Damned.

The Mantis Man cackled to himself, holding the doll and repeating to himself as he watched the film, "We're having a party for you, Danny. Because you made a mistake. What kind of a mistake? A bad mistake. Now we have to resolve this mistake that you made." He despised Danny Falco for something Danny had unwittingly done to him, for breaking his heart, and he vowed to send the kid's soul straight to Hell, but Danny's soul had already been spoken for.

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": Chapter Two

2011-07-03T16:04:00.000-07:00

The movie I refer to is an amalgam of several actual films, like this

I actually turned down a dinner invitation
from this lady, because I was a fool.
To be fair, she wasn't dressed like this at the time.

Here is another tantalizing taste of my work in progress (Chapter One and some background info can be read in the previous blog entry). I plan to publish one more chapter on this blog before I put it entirely under wraps. The character of Estrella is inspired by my encounter with the real life movie star Sonia Braga, a guest at The French Hotel in Berkeley when I was a desk clerk there circa 1990. Nothing much to report, but she did invite me to join her for dinner at Chez Panisse across the street, which I stupidly declined because I didn't want to abandon my post - the chance of a lifetime blown due to a pointless work ethic, what an idiot. But in my mind, the character of Estrella more closely resembles Mexican B movie legend Lorena Velazquez. Anyway, that's the inspiration for this one small plot thread from this carefully woven, intricate mosaic of the mysterious and the macabre. Enjoy. Cheers.

FREAKS THAT CARRY YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM

A Novel by Will Viharo

Chapter Two:
NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN DIE

There’s nothing worse than dying alone. This is what Estrella Margarita Moreno believed, and since the only for her way to die was to commit suicide by sunshine, she felt she could control the destiny of her ultimate demise. Loneliness was normally lethal when left untreated. In her case, it was merciless torture, not a fatal illness. The only way to kill her loneliness was to kill herself.

She’d first been infected with blood-lustful immortality while making a monster movie in Mexico City, way back in 1962. The actor hired to play the vampire wore phony fangs and a cape. This only served to disguise the fact that he was a real vampire, as Estrella discovered one dark, sensuous night after the movie had wrapped. The movie, entitled La Lucha Contra El Vampiro, about a masked wrestler battling the undead, was a cult favorite. Estrella was only twenty-four at the time. She had made the film under her real name, Maria Munoz, but changed it in 1974 when she appeared in her first “art” film, Estrella Estrogena. Critics and audiences marveled at how she hadn’t aged very much since that film was made, and she denied she was the star of La Lucha Contra El Vampiro, claiming that was her deceased cousin. Her friends in the Mexican drug cartel - big fans of her work - helped fabricate credence to this cover story. Many of her criminal friends were vampires as well. The ruse worked. Estrella actually wore makeup in public to make her appear somewhat older, but not so old as to eschew erotic love scenes, her stock-in-trade. She was indeed a living miracle. Actually, an undead miracle. But she was lonely, and she wanted it to end.

Though she had many, many lovers over the years, she had fallen in love only once, with a member of the French Parliament, in the late 1970s, whom she'd met at Cannes where one of her films was premiering, but he was married, and when intimate photos of them surfaced, she was denounced by her lover as an evil temptress and effectively ostracized from that country, though her fans still loved and worshiped her. Her lover later committed “suicide,” found hanging from a balcony, drained of blood.

Estrella fled France and traveled next to Spain, where she lived and loved and worked for many years, appearing in several films for the director Jess Franco. But despite her many affairs, she was very lonesome. The fact that she often fed on her lovers disturbed her soul, and she was convinced she still possessed one. Her spirit was just trapped. Only love could free it from this prison of undead flesh.

Lorena Velazquez, who looks a lot like Estrella Moreno, in Ship of Monsters (1959)

She returned to her childhood town of Tlaquepaque and decided to retire, sleeping by day, painting by night, feeding only on the blood of small animals, mostly mice and possums, but never cats, because she loved them too much. She often stole human blood from hospitals as well. Her sudden disappearance from the screen concerned her many fans worldwide, but her films gained new audiences and popularity via video and then DVD. She could live on these royalties alone. She became a restless recluse. That’s when she decided to travel….

Danny Falco was on the run from people in Philadelphia to whom he owed a lot of money. Danny was a gambler and a drifter from Pitman and then Atlantic City, New Jersey, though his last address had been in Chicago. He took odd jobs to survive as he wandered the country. He’d finally quit his gambling habit via GA - Gambler’s Anonymous - only to replace one addiction for another: sex. This was an easy addiction to fulfill, since he resembled a young Elvis Presley. He always thought he'd die young, too. He just didn't think he'd live to tell about it.

When Estrella dissolved into dust before his very eyes, Danny instinctively swung into action. He hid the bodies of the two dead hit men in the bathroom, because of the sirens in the distance. Then he returned to his post, though the morning clerk, a suave poseur named Dick Reid, who was obsessed with Japanese women, was already on duty, talking to the police, who were responding to reports of a disturbance in one of the rooms. Dick had already given the cops all the guest logs, including Estrella Moreno. Danny decided to play it cool. Mendacity had become a lifestyle for him.

"What's up?" Danny said. "I fell asleep in one of the rooms, sorry, man."

"These policemen said someone called to report some loud noises, possibly gunfire, in The Purple Room," Dick said as he checked his hair in the mirror. He was swarthy and handsome and quite vain. His suit was neatly pressed and he smelled strongly of expensive cologne.

"That was me, sorry," Danny said. "I was watching 'The Untouchables' on TV, too loud, I guess."

"Can we see the room?" asked one of the policemen.

"Ahm, I'd rather you didn't," Danny said.

"Why?" asked the cop suspiciously.

"I wasn't alone," Danny said.

Dick smiled. "So...that was the real Estrella Moreno you checked in?"

"Yes," Danny said.

"The Mexican porn star?" asked one of the cops, wild-eyed.

"Art films," Danny said. "She doesn't make porn."

"Whatever you want to call it, works for me," Dick said.

"I'm sorry someone complained," Danny said.

"You work here?" asked the cop.

"Yea, I'm the...night clerk."

Dick winked at Danny, who ignored him.

"Okay, well...we only had one call, and it seems quiet now," the cop said.

"It is," said Danny.

The cops left. "You look pale," Dick said to Danny. "She must've drained you dry."

"Where's Boris?" Danny asked, unaware that Boris had tipped off the men looking for him. Boris knew Danny must have been in Estrella's room. He planned to go watch her taking a shower later on, through his customized peephole, but then Boris didn't know Estrella was dead. Boris had keys to all the rooms. He lived in the basement of the hotel, where, when he wasn’t reading or watching pornography, he conducted his secret experiments on stolen corpses from the local morgue.

"He was already gone when I got here," Dick said. "Nobody was here. Nobody."

"I was only gone a few minutes before my shift ended," Danny lied. "Sorry."

Dick shrugged. "Just cover for me next time I'm late. I met this fine Japanese lady last night, I need to tell you all about her - "

"Not now," Danny said. "I'm too tired."

An Afro-headed part-Jewish, part-German, half Cuban would-be musician from Miami named Mortimer Schmidt, though his friends just called him Morty - or they would if he had any friends - accosted Danny. Morty frequented the café on a daily basis, careful to avoid The Mantis Man, with whom he did not get along. "What happened?" he asked Danny in his usual pushy tone.

"Nothing, mind your own business," said Danny. "I need to go get cleaned up."

"You look like shit," Morty said. "Why were the cops here? Something happen?"

"I said mind your own business, man," Danny said.

"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay," Morty said. "Just askin'."

"Poke that big nose up somebody else's ass," Danny muttered as he returned to Room 001 to find a way to clean up his mess.

But when he got there, he only saw Boris the dwarf, with his pants around his ankles, sitting on the bed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I come here to pleasure myself. I though you had left. I come on rug. There was dust on rug. The dust came to life. My semen, it brought the dust to life. Like semen should do, create life. She was a beautiful naked woman, fully grown. She went into the bathroom, and ate the bodies in there. She ate them all. Even the bones, very quick. Then she kissed me." Boris wiped his mouth.

Danny gulped. "Where is she now?"

"Beneath this bed," he said. "I am very sorry. I need to go now."

Boris hopped off the bed, pulled up his pants, and left the room. When he was gone, Danny peered beneath the bed and saw Estella resting peacefully in the cool darkness. Danny smiled. He was in love. Feeling weak and nauseous, he climbed underneath and lay beside her, and soon fell asleep.

"I have something better to do than die now," he said to her, though she could not hear him. She was dreaming of her own death, which had once again eluded her.

At dusk, when she awoke, she leaned over and kissed him. He opened his eyes and smiled. “Estrella,” he whispered, kissing her hand.

“Call me Maria,” she whispered. “That is my true name.”

“Are we…dead?” he asked.

“Not quite,” she said. “I was dead, at least, but…now I no longer wish to die, now that I’ve found you.”

“Am I…like you?” he asked.

“Not yet, but soon.”

“Forever.”

“Yes,” she said. “Forever.” A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. He kissed it off.

“I’m not afraid,” he said.

“You should be,” she said.

“But now, we’re safe,” he said. “My enemies cannot harm me.”

She kissed him. “Let’s go above the bed, and make love.”

He looked at his watch. “I have to go to work soon. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

She suddenly looked forlorn, and stroked his thick, black hair, then kissed his forehead. “That’s the hard part,” she said. “Feeding…the thirst.”

“Did you really come back to life because the dwarf jerked off on your remains?” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “Blood and semen. I live on these fluids. They are…liquid life. I do not have to consume human flesh and bones, except when I must dispose of evidence from a kill. I try to choose my victims...carefully."

“But…why did you try to die?” Danny asked. “Especially after last night?”

“Because…I wanted it to end perfectly,” she said.

He kissed her. “Now it will never end,” he said.

“But it won’t be perfect,” she said.

“I don’t care,” he said, and then they climbed up onto the bed and made love. He was very hungry when 11PM rolled around, and he had to report for work, and the pizza that Juan and Carlos, the Mexican cafe workers, offered to share with him just didn't appeal to him.

"Estrella Moreno is staying here?" asked Carlos, whose raucous laugh often filled the cafe.

"May I meet her?" asked Juan, who sent his entire paycheck home to Mexico, living on his tips and some male hustling on the side. They would be quite impressed - and appalled - to know this famous Latina star was residing in his place of employment.

"Maybe," said Danny. "She may be staying here...for a long time." He tried not to notice the veins in their necks. "Here," he said. "Take the pizza with you."

"You not hungry?"

"No," Danny lied. "Just thirsty. Bring me...some sangria. Please."

The Mantis Man was watching Danny from the cafe. He went to the phone booth and made a call to a private eye named Vic Valentine.

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": Chapter One (a work in progress)

2011-06-30T16:15:00.000-07:00

This San Francisco Chronicle cartoon of the corner of Broadway and Columbus,
where the Hotel Europa was located, with my own embellishments,
sent to my friend Greg Vargas back in 1985.

The Hotel Europa was right above this famous strip club in San Francisco

The French Hotel, Berkeley CA

My new pulp fiction project is a completely original work inspired by some of my experiences working as a desk clerk at the Hotel Europa in the North Beach section of San Francisco in the mid-1980s (where I was also a resident, living right above The Condor strip club, where Carol Doda performed), and then The French Hotel in Berkeley in the early 1990s. Of course, all of the experiences and people depicted in this book will be highly fictionalized, told in a series of separate short stories that ultimately intertwine, all set at an imaginary place called L'Hotel du Frisson (which translates as "thrill" in French), located in an undetermined town and time. Several of my established fictional characters from previous novels will make cameos, along with famous personalities. There will be some spooky supernatural elements, some hardboiled noir aspects, hyper-realistic situations, and lots of sex. In the classical tradition of novelists using quotes from celebrated poems for their titles (Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls, Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men, Salinger's paraphrased The Catcher in the Rye, still my favorite book), the name of this episodic novel comes not from a famous poem, but an infamous bootlegged onstage rant by Elvis Presley (see video below), probably drug-fueled, but the same claim has been made about the works of Edgar Allan Poe, William Burroughs and many other esteemed authors. Anyway, I don't have a target publication date, and I'm juggling this fiction enterprise with several freelance projects, so I'm not sure when the entire novel will be finished and published, but I'm just giving you an advance taste to hopefully whet your appetite for the final steamy, sultry, surreal stew. Enjoy.....cheers, Will the Quill

FREAKS THAT CARRY YOUR LUGGAGE UP TO THE ROOM

A Novel by Will Viharo

Chapter One
WELCOME TO VIOLENCE

People who checked into L'Hotel du Frisson always checked each other out, too. It was a sexual nexus of neurotic eroticism. The guests were consumed by lust and loneliness, because these intoxicating interludes distracted them, like all of humanity, from their real obsession: a collective fear of death. Morality was no match for mortality. These primal passions erupted one night when a beautiful, seemingly ageless Latina movie queen named Estrella Margarita Moreno, renowned for her promiscuity on and off screen, decided to take a vacation from her native town of Tlaquepaque, Mexico, a suburb of Guadalajara, traveling across America, where she could literally get lost, maybe even disappear. She settled on L'Hotel du Frisson because it sounded foreign and exotic, even though it was located in a typical American town. She had once lived in Paris, years ago, until a scandal, involving an important politician, drove her out, exiling her from the country of France forever. She never got over it. In fact, she wanted to die. But first, she wanted to fall in love, one last time.

The desk clerk on duty recognized her right away, because her picture was in the magazine he kept under the counter, next to the gun, which he always brought with him for safety, since he worked the night shift, and sometimes shady, dangerous types would lurk in the adjoining Cafe du Frisson. Though they were the least of his worries, especially tonight.

The cafe was somewhat more contemporary in appearance than the three story hotel, since most of the furniture had been replaced in the 1960s, at odds with the 1930s decor of the hotel, which had never been updated. The mid-century modernist style of the cafe, in pastel blues and greens, also both complemented and contrasted with the Art Deco fashion of the building in which it was housed. Together, it was an architectural, aesthetic haven for bygone styles that didn't clash so much as copulate. This unique atmosphere made L'Hotel du Frisson a global destination for world weary travelers. The desk clerk did not share this love for his place of employment. He was only here temporarily, anyway. He'd be moving on once he suspected that the people pursuing him were in uncomfortable proximity. The desk clerk's name was Danny. A regular in the cafe known as "The Mantis Man," from New York City, where he had once worked as a headhunter and hung out in coffee shops with his good friend, the late filmmaker John Cassavetes, had warned Danny that, via the grapevine, his enemies were getting closer, and it may be time for him to leave, very soon, strongly advising him to just walk off the job tonight. But after meeting Estrella Margarita Moreno, the famous Mexican porn star (though her sensuous, surrealistic movies with titles like Iguana Sexo and Mi Gata Quieres Amor were shown in mainstream art houses), he didn't want to abandon his post just yet. She was worth the risk, he figured.

"They're having a little party for you," The Mantis Man had told Danny earlier that evening, rather sardonically. The Mantis Man was called such because of his thin, insect-like appearance. "Because you made a mistake. What kind of a mistake? A bad mistake. Now they have to resolve this mistake that you made. You're invited to this little party, Danny. You should RSVP for this party that they're throwing for you. You're the guest of honor." The Mantis Man's beady eyes lit up with an odd sort of enjoyment as he described Danny's plight.

"I'll just leave town again," Danny said.

"You can run, but you can't hide," said The Mantis Man. "I should know. I was a headhunter. It was my job to find people."

"Not me," Danny said.

"I found you, didn't I?" The Mantis Man cackled.

"But you weren't even looking for me," said Danny.

"Well, there you go," said The Mantis Man. "Imagine if I were. That's how easy it is. You should have changed your name."

"I did."

"Well...I guess that wasn't enough. My contacts tell me that your trail has heated up and your friends could be arriving shortly. It will be a very fun party, I'm sure." The Mantis Man lit up a cigarette.

"Please smoke outside," Danny said irritably.

The Mantis Man nodded and walked away.

"I have nothing better to do than die," Danny whispered to himself.

Then Estrella Maria Moreno showed up, and changed everything.

When Danny had first arrived for his shift that evening, the clerk he was replacing, a rotund, clean-cut, red-faced fellow named Franklin DeWitt, was in one of the rooms, masturbating on the bed, then carefully cleaning up after himself. This was his usual routine. Franklin desperately wanted to sleep with L'Hotel du Frisson's owner, a buxom blond nymphomaniac widower named Clara Cleaver, but then so did most of the desk clerks, as well as the guests. Clara sometimes obliged them, taking the hotel tab out in trade, but she never slept with her employees, as a strict policy. Franklin had to settle for photographs he surreptitiously snapped of Clara taking a shower in that very room, which Franklin had taken through a small, secret hole in the wall, drilled for this perverse, voyeuristic surveillance. Clara was very sexy, an ex-stripper (stage name: Clara Belle due to her enormous, and very real breasts, which men loved to "milk" by ejaculating between them), who had married a wealthy businessman who in turn died of a heart attack on their honeymoon, following a strenuous sexual session. She was never even sure exactly what he did for a living, since he'd just picked her up at the club where she worked and proposed the next morning. He left Clara his entire fortune, which she wisely invested by purchasing this hotel. That was ten years ago. Some say the businessman's spirit haunted this hotel, but then so did many spirits, many in liquid form. The hotel's legendary reputation as a graveyard for ghosts was part of its appeal. Clara always played that up on brochures. It was an effective marketing scheme, whether it was true or not. Clara was as shrewd as she was lewd.

"Now that you've soiled that room, I can't rent it," Danny complained to Franklin, sweating and reeking of his own semen. "It's our only vacancy. The maids are long gone."

"Yes, you can, I always clean up after myself," Franklin said.

"Zip up your god damn pants and dry that spot on your crotch, you fat, filthy bastard," Danny said. Franklin just snorted and laughed.

So when Estrella checked in, Danny had no alternative but to give her Room 001, the closest one to the front desk. It was known as The Purple Room, because it was decorated in purple. All of the rooms had a unique color scheme. A white stain on a plush purple bedspread would definitely stand out. If only Franklin had used The Yellow Room, but that was occupied by a man from out of town, a salesman, who rarely ventured out during his regular visits.

The bellhop on duty, a deformed dwarf from Russia named Boris Yakov, once a successful surgeon, until he botched an operation due to his incessant trembling, carried Estrella's baggage to her room, even though it was heavier than he was, and the room was nearby. Danny did not let Estrella know that he recognized her, but she could tell that he did.

"Are you here all night?" she asked him. "In case I need anything?"

"Yes," he said.

It was 3 A.M. and Danny, pretending to read a detective novel, was having trouble staying awake, despite his date with either impending doom or the fuck of his thirty year old life. The sounds of classic jazz emanated from the cafe's sound system, as it did around the clock since, like the hotel, Cafe du Frisson never closed. That's when Danny noticed the two familiar men in the mirror, which reflected the cafe. They were wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night. That's when he knew he had to run.

"Cover for me," Danny told Boris, who was sound asleep. Boris had been the one who had drilled the hole in The Purple Room, and told Franklin about it. Danny brought his gun with him.

He knocked on Room 001, and Estrella let him in, closing the door behind them, and locking it.

"I need a place to hide," he said.

"I was going to call you anyway," she said.

"Why?" asked Danny.

"There is a strange stain on my sheets, and my bed smells like...sex. Also, there is a hole in the wall of the bathroom."

"I'm sorry," Danny said. "Would you like me...to plug your hole?"

She was wearing a silk robe that was untied, revealing her brown breasts with their large nipples, which he recognized from the magazine. She said, "Sssshhhh," then took him into her meaty arms and enveloped him in her warm, soft flesh. He removed his black suit, white shirt, shiny black shoes, and thin black tie. They made violent love for hours. Estrella cried because she had found her final fling. When Danny woke up, the sun was streaming through the blinds, and it burned his skin. He got up and closed the curtains. Estrella was still on the bed, her eyes wide open, her skin cold to the touch. She was dead.

Danny went to the bathroom and noticed two puncture wounds on his neck. They hurt when he touched them. There was a knock on the door, then two men suddenly kicked it open, and fired their guns at Danny. But he just stood there and took it. He then walked up to the two men, ignoring his own gun on the bedside table, and snapped their necks, one in each hand. Then he dropped them on the ground and returned to Estrella's side, and wept. Estrella opened her eyes, and smiled, licking the bloody saliva from her lips. She carefully covered Danny in the blankets, told him to stay put, walked to the window, opened the curtains and blinds, and burst into flames.

"How To Make a Velvet Monster" & Hot Rod Hullabaloo!

2011-06-22T15:10:00.000-07:00

At my most recent "Forbidden Thrills" movie nite at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda, I threw a "Monster Beach Party" featuring Beach Girls and the Monster (1965) and Monster of Piedras Blancas (1959), but the true highlight of this very fun night was guest artist MP creating a live velvet painting before our very eyes! The result is a spectacular tribute to B movies. Dig:

Just getting started...

...also just getting started...

Mesmerized by the movie...

The Beach Monster lurks...

Another masterpiece by MP!

Viola!

New postcard by Tanoa Stewart

NEXT IN FORBIDDEN THRILLS AT FORBIDDEN ISLAND: HOT ROD HULLABALOO!
Monday, July 18, 7:30, no cover
featuring
HOT ROD GIRL (1956) plus! HOT RODS TO HELL (1967) with special guest MP creating velvet tiki hot rod art before your very eyes! Be there. Aloha.

Hot Rod Hullabaloo, July 18

Marking one year of "Forbidden Thrills" - Aloha!

2011-06-19T14:37:00.000-07:00

Now this is some "Forbidden Thrills"

Cheers!

This past April I celebrated 14 years of Thrillville at my not-so-new-anymore "home base," Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda, where, as of this month, I've been hosting a monthly Monday night cult movies 'n' cocktail series, sort of Thrillville 2.0, AKA "Chillville," AKA "Forbidden Thrills," for a whole year. This downshift in logistics proved to be an upswing vis a vis my attitude toward continuing my "career" as a B movie impresario in a public setting. After 13 years of hosting the cult movie cabaret that was Thrillville - B movies, bands, and burlesque - 12 years at Speakeasy Theaters, one more for the road, I was ready to hang up the fez hat and smoking jacket for good. And I did. Only I traded them for a shiny suit and a skinny tie, reinventing my public persona as "Will the Quill," Pulp Fiction Author, who also presented a movie nite in a tiki lounge once a month. Being a Movie Host no longer dominates my time, energy or (hopefully) image, since I find most of my creative fulfillment in my writing, my original dream and true professional love. I even shot the book trailer for the Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection at Forbidden Island. It's a good fit - scaled back, but like the original show, customized to suit the venue : smaller screen, but much better booze, plus the usual prizes, free popcorn, and no cover! The Thrillville stage show was created specifically for the Parkway and later the Cerrito, so it was an awkward fit when I took it to other theaters after Speakeasy's spectacular crash and burn in 2009. "Road Thrill" was a fun ride while it lasted, but meantime, I rediscovered my literary roots, and then there was no turning back. I didn't want to invest any more energy in Thrillville as a stage show, but as a launching pad/cyber-headquarters for my novels, both my backlog and my future endeavors in the fiction field. "Forbidden Thrills" has allowed me to retain my rep as a "movie guy" while pursuing my main artistic goals. There's even a special menu inspired by my books, "Will the Thrill's Pulp Cocktails. " It's been a great year and I look forward to many more. Aloha.

Autographed photo from B movie goddess Jeanne Carmen, here with the Monster of P.B.

To mark the occasion, on Monday, June 20, 7:30, I'm throwing a FORBIDDEN THRILLS MONSTER BEACH PARTY featuring THE BEACH GIRLS AND THE MONSTER (1965), a silly but fun Horror of Party Beach knockoff (with Frank Sinatra Jr.!) which I've never presented before, and THE MONSTER OF PIEDRAS BLANCAS (1959), one of my favorite "creature features," which I did show in a beautiful 35mm print years ago at the Parkway - and even the producer's daughter showed up! Those were good times, but I'm having an equally good time with this "spin-off" series. Here's the updated schedule. Hope to see you there. Aloha, Will

With the Shatner Butt Girls at another hit SHATFEST, May 23

With Molokai Mike and Suzanne Long at the spectacularly successful
SHATFEST last month

Sellin' my books: this is what it's all about now

From Thrillville to Yountville: Our 10th Wedding Anniversary

2011-06-01T22:57:00.000-07:00

Our 10th wedding anniversary at The French Laundry

Cheers!

Celebrating at the French Laundry

On Tuesday, May 31, 2011, we celebrated a delicious decade of magical marriage at the world famous French Laundry up in Yountville, just north of Napa (where, ironically, we spent our very first anniversary, hosting my first Thrillville show at Copia, now closed but, like the Parkway, is rumored for a revival). Now, I am not a foodie, but Monica is, and this was Plan B (or Plan A.2) since we couldn't make it to the original destination for this date, Paris. We did go see the new Woody Allen flick Midnight in Paris (read my review here) later that night, but this was definitely the next best thing, and cheaper by a few bucks to boot. Also, this celebrated restaurant is much harder to get into than France, so just the fact we got a reservation was a sign from Above this was meant to be. Before dinner we strolled around Yountville on a mini bar crawl, stopping at the swank bar at the spa resort Bardessona and then a classy place down the road called Redd. Cocktails were excellent at both spots, which was a good thing, since the French Laundry, amazingly, does not feature a full bar. We did polish off a bottle of their house champagne, along with both the regular and the vegetable tasting menu. Every single bite of every single item was perfectly delicious. It was a very elegant, entertaining, exquisite, and expensive experience, well worth it, especially since it was a dream come true for my beloved bride. We may not have Paris - yet - but we'll always have The French Laundry. And with that tab, it'll have us for a while, too. Cheers.

Monica: so happy to be at The French Laundry

The bar at Bardessona


Monica at Bardessona

At Redd


Cheers (Redd)


Ravishing at Redd

Showing off Monica's anniversary gift, a Sinatra-style pinkie ring

at Bardessona

This scene at the French Laundry says it all.

Monica in the French Laundry kitchen

That day's menu, autographed by famed chef Thomas Keller

Celebrating the 10 Best Years of my Life - and the Best Is Yet to Come

2011-05-27T14:56:00.000-07:00

With "Reverend Dino" (Robert Ensler) & Los Falcones

We even had our own logo!


The most beautiful bride ever

Tuesday, May 31 is the 10th anniversary of my wedding to my true love and best friend, Monica Cortes Viharo, known to most of you as "the Tiki Goddess," at the Cal-Neva Resort in North Lake Tahoe, famously owned by Frank Sinatra in the early '60s, with frequent famous guests like Marilyn Monroe, JFK and mobster Sam Giancana, to name a few. I spent my final night as a bachelor in Frank's personal cabin, #5. Our Rat Pack/mariachi themed ceremony, with our friend and Dean Martin impersonator Robert Ensler presiding, followed by the epic reception in the Frank Sinatra Celebrity Showroom, remains the best day of my life (not that it's been downhill from there!), surrounded by friends and family from throughout my 38 years, as well as Monica's many friends and relatives, all enjoying the open martini bar (with specially designated drinks named for our favorite performers, just like the tables), the DJ lounge/soul music (from my own playlist), live mariachi music (Los Falcones of Oakland), silent scenes on a big screen from Ocean's 11 and Blue Hawaii (where we spent our honeymoon), and generally just meeting and mingling amid the stylishly retro setting with its beautiful natural backdrop. We had booked this location for our wedding before we were even officially engaged! We like to plan ahead. In fact, we had always planned to be in Paris for our 10th anniversary, but circumstances conspired against it, so instead we're settling for Plan B: dinner at the world famous French Laundry. It's way beyond our means, but so was our wedding, and it was worth every penny. Life with my wife is priceless, anyway. She deserves the very best and I plan to give it to her, even if it's on credit. I'd be nothing, and there would be no Thrillville, without her.

If interested, much more from the wedding album can be viewed online here. Cheers.

Lucky guy.

The martini bar menu (A)

The martini bar menu (B)

Shatner, Sex, & other reasons to celebrate post-Rapture

2011-05-22T15:08:00.000-07:00


My interview with Tura, her last, is featured here, along with my new movie column

My movie column this time is on Russ Meyer

Contrary to certain predictions, the world did not end, not yet anyway, which is good, because on Monday, May 23, 7:30, I'm debuting my annual Tribute to William Shatner, SHATFEST, at its new home, Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, where I host the monthly cult movie nite called "Forbidden Thrills," on the fabled isle of Alameda, ironically also home of "The Rapture" rumors. Once again I'm spotlighting Shat's greatest role, as the psycho serial killer in William Grefe's immortal, immoral masterpiece IMPULSE (1974), plus I'm bringing back Shat's epic Esperanto experience, INCUBUS (1966), along with surprise Shat-shorts (the kind you watch, not wear), Will the Thrill's Pulp Cocktails, the return of the ever-loving' Shatner Butt Girls, prizes, free popcorn, no cover. As if this isn't enough reason for the world to keep rollin', the latest issue of Bachelor Pad Magazine is at press, and my regular movie column this time focuses on the films of Russ Meyer. Speaking of Russ, the re-vamped web site for our late, legendary friend TURA SATANA just launched, featuring my tribute on the introductory page, truly one of the great honors of my life, courtesy of Tura's manager, swingin' Siouxzan Perry, whom Tura righteously entrusted with her legacy. Furthermore, the relaunched Varla Magazine (named after Tura's character in Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill!) is due out next month, featuring Tura's final print interview - conducted by yours truly, another source of personal pride. I discuss all of this plus the Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection, of course, in this archived online interview first broadcast on the syndicated sports/pop culture program Legends Radio on May 11. Here's to Tura Satana, who left us for Pussycat Heaven on February 4 of this year, and William Shatner, still with us, who turned 80 this past March 22 (also the two year anniversary of the Parkway closing.) Party like there's no tomorrow, even if there is, because you never know. Cheers.

The introductory page to www.turasatana.com features my tribute, a great honor

Shatner emotes in Esperanto, but it's not The End...

The Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection book trailer

2011-05-13T13:03:00.000-07:00

This says it all. Cheers.

Shooting a pulp book trailer; Mourning a B movie goddess

2011-05-04T17:05:00.000-07:00

Yvette finally succumbed to the leeches of Hollywood

"Lobby card" created by Rick Lucey

Yvette Vickers in a Playboy layout by Russ Meyer, 1959

May 2 was one weird, wild, wonderful and ultimately woeful whiplash of a day. Not only was the world still abuzz about the death of Osama bin Laden the previous night, but I was at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda filming the live action segment of a tiki-noir-grindhouse style "book trailer" for The Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection, now being edited by filmmaker Christopher Sorrenti. The vignette we shot will be incorporated into images of book covers mixed with recordings of me reading juicy bits from each book. When I got home, I was hit with the news that the Sahara in Vegas, one of the last of the original Sin City resorts, once home base of Louis Prima and Keely Smith, is closing down, probably to make way for another family friend monstrosity, meaning I have pretty much no reason to ever visit Disneyland in the Desert again (Viva Palm Springs!). From the Rat Pack to the Mickey Mouse Club: the degeneration is now compete. And, much, much worse: I learned of the tragic demise of legendary "scream queen" Yvette Vickers, best known as the "bad girl" in Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (1958) and Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959), whom I met once years ago at a celebrity convention. She was a very warm, wonderful woman in my brief experience with her, autographing several photos and the independently produced CD she recorded in honor or her jazz musician parents. I will always cherish our conversation, honored to have had the opportunity to meet and converse with someone I've always admired, but I will be forever saddened by her incredibly lonesome, lurid death scene, described in this tribute column I wrote for Examiner.com. Cheers to Yvette, forever enshrined as a drive-in diva, but also greatly loved by all of her fans, even if she died alone.

Yvette: farewell my lovely

With trailer director/editor Christopher Sorrenti at Forbidden Island

Thrillville Noir


Monica Tiki Goddess is the "femme fatale" in this still from the forthcoming book trailer for the "Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection"

Cover boys: with artists Rick Lucey (left) & Rich Black

With my pals Jessica and Mel, two of the "extras" in the trailer

My buddy Molokai Mike, owner of Forbidden Island, has a cameo in the book trailer

"From one goddess to another..." Aloha, Yvette

The Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection is finally complete (for now!)

2011-04-21T16:50:00.000-07:00

Cover art by Rick Lucey

Cover art by R. Black

Over the past year I've been very busy self-publishing cherry-picked manuscripts from my long dormant literary past, revising some of the novels extensively with updated material and text corrections, but mostly keeping my own buried history as a novelist relatively intact for belated presentation to a whole new audience for my work. Now, with the printing of the final Vic Valentine, Private Eye novels in one double feature, I LOST MY HEART IN HOLLYWOOD plus! DIARY OF A DICK, now available via Lulu (and soon from Amazon and other global online retail resources), my mission is complete. For now, anyway. This leaves roughly half of my sixteen written novels still in the closet, where they'll most likely stay, intense interest from the public some day to see my earlier, less polished works develops over time. Many of the themes explored in these unpublished books are more richly developed, in more entertaining, accessible fashion, in the novels I've chosen to make public. I am very grateful to all the artists - most of whom I met via my Thrillville network - who created such beautiful, seductive covers, following my rough design ideas, but fleshing out my concepts with their own unique creative visions.

Cover art by Mike Lewis

So, what began as a cult movie cabaret and B movie/burlesque road show is now home base for a One Man Pulp Fiction Factory. This is the real me. I've finally come full circle. It's good to be home after such a long, roundabout journey. Cheers, Will the Quill

Check out the T HRILLVILLE GONZO PULP FICTION GALLERY for updates and purchasing info.

Cover by Actual Rafiq

Cover design by Miles Goodrich, illustrations by Will Viharo

Cover art by R. Black

Cover art by Mister Lobo & Dixie Dellamorto

Scenes from the Thrillville 14th Anniversary Tiki Party

2011-04-20T13:29:00.000-07:00

Cheers to Thrillville's 14th, aloha style

Toasting Thrillville with a "Vic Valentine" cocktail

Still crazy after all these years

Here are some pix from Thrillville's 14th Anniversary Show, my first one in a tiki lounge, as part of my monthly cult movies 'n' cocktails series, Forbidden Thrills at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda. I showed my two favorite horror flicks, I Was a Teenage Werewolf and Dawn of the Dead, plus two short subjects: a vintage-documentary-style vignette by Christian Bruno, about "Deco-Win," utilizing footage of Monica Tiki Goddess and me spinning the old carnival wheel at the Parkway Theater; and a montage of Thrillville's past theater gigs via a lobby card slide show created by Bob Ekman, to the tune of "Thrillville," my original theme song by The Moon-Rays. On the special menu: Will the Thrill's Pulp Cocktails, deadly drinks inspired by my novels. It was a packed house with some familiar faces but also a lot of new ones. Here's to Thrillville, now a personal pulp fiction factory as well as a B movie mecca, and also to Forbidden Island, which just turned 5. Cheers & aloha.

Molokai Mike shows off the FI 5th anniversary mug

Me and my pal Larry

"I Was a Tiki Werewolf"

Zombies on screen - and off.

Scenes from Thrillville's past

Thrill Seekers

Lee and Suzanne

Mark may not make it till "dawn"...

Lord Blood-Rah saves a "Drowning Mermaid"

Cheers for "Chumpy Walnut" - the cocktail!

I LOST MY HEART IN HOLLYWOOD/DIARY OF A DICK: The cover

2011-04-14T13:04:00.000-07:00

Here is Rick Lucey's perfectly realized B movie-style cover art for the latest (and last, for now) of the Vic Valentine, Private Eye novels, another "double feature," I LOST MY HEART IN HOLLYWOOD plus! DIARY OF A DICK. Below is the back cover blurb. I still have one unfinished Vic book, HARD-BOILED HEART, that I may update to present times (the series is set in the '90s, when all five books were written) at some point, but right now I just want to focus on promoting and building an audience for the Thrillville Pulp Fiction library I've built up over the past year. Stay tuned for publication announcement of HEART/DICK, which is currently at the printers. Cheers, Will

I LOST MY HEART IN HOLLYWOOD chronicles the strangest case yet in the so-called career of Vic Valentine, Private Eye, as an unlikely tryst with the B movie scream queen of his dreams, Velma Vale, leads him down a dark, twisted path of paranoia, voyeurism, degradation and death. The bizarre action heats up even as his burning loneliness and simmering sexual obsessions flare at the forefront of his tormented consciousness, with caution and common sense cooling idly on the backburner.

Plus!

DIARY OF A DICK tells further tantalizing tales of Vic chasing tail while allegedly on the trail of True Love, all the way to New Orleans and back again, as the femme fatales of his past and present suddenly converge with prurient promises of promiscuity. As always, strings are attached to these erotic escapades, but the ties that bind begin rapidly unraveling, and Vic is left hanging by a thread like a doomed puppet. The mysteries of love have never been more elusive.

Cover art by Rick Lucey (Thrillville Press, 2011)

Cover art by R. Black (Thrillville Press, 2011)

Cover art by Tim Racer (Wild Card Press, 1996)

Thrillville turns 14, Tiki style

2011-04-07T12:03:00.000-07:00

On Monday, April 18, 7:30 I will be hosting my 14th Thrillville Anniversary Show not in a movie theater, but in a tiki lounge, the greatest one in the world, in fact - Forbidden Island, to be exact, where I've been presenting a scaled down version of my cult movie program called "Forbidden Thrills" since last summer. Thrillville has evolved over the years from a weekly midnight show at the Parkway to a "prime time" event on Thursday nites at both the Parkway and its sister Speakeasy Theater, the Cerrito (now gone), to a road show post-Speakeasy, and then finally to its current incarnation, the monthly movie nites at Forbidden Island, which are much more like "Chillville." But actually, Thrillville is now primarily the home base for my own pulp fiction, my original dream and chief ambition. Truthfully, I never aspired to be a B movie/burlesque impresario. It's just something that happened along the way, an enjoyable and productive detour that distracted me from my true destination for 12 years, though it gave me a public platform from which to launch my novels. Forbidden Thrills is fun, but not the main outlet for my creativity. I'd much rather be known as Will the Quill than Will the Thrill, but in any case, Thrillville remains the headquarters for all my professional endeavors. I am grateful to all Thrill Seekers for their support as I make this full circle back to my initial career choice. I remain your humble literary lounge lizard. Please join me as I present my two favorite horror movies (it's a "secret") on Forbidden Island's "indoor drive-in" screen (and widescreen hi-def bar TV), plus prizes, surprises, and Will the Thrill's Pulp Cocktails, delicious drinks inspired by my novels and served exclusively at my movie nites. Cheers & aloha, Will

THRILLVILLE'S 14TH ANNIVERSARY SHOW

Monday, April 18, 7:30, No cover

Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, 1304 Lincoln, Alameda CA

Vic Valentine is back in print: FATE IS MY PIMP/ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK now available!

2011-03-17T15:23:00.000-07:00

Cover by R. Black

He's baaaack - 16 years after he was first introduced to the world in LOVE STORIES ARE TOO VIOLENT FOR ME, my lovable, lonesome, libidinous, loquacious lothario/loser has finally made his literary comeback, with a "double feature" of sequels, FATE IS MY PIMP plus! ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK, sporting a fantastic front cover by R. Black, published under one cover and now available in a variety of formats, with more options to come (print version only available from Lulu right now; it'll be on Amazon and worldwide online retail outlets in a couple of months or less). For now:

LULU (print edition)

LULU EBOOK

KINDLE EDITION

THRILLVILLE FICTION STORE

More on the these books and the history of Vic Valentine in this earlier blog post.

Coming soon: Another Vic Valentine, Private Eye double feature, I LOST MY HEART IN HOLLYWOOD plus! DIARY OF A DICK. Stay tuned to this blog and the Vic Valentine Facebook Page for updates. Cheers.

Will the Thrill's "Pulp Cocktails," only at Forbidden Island!

2011-03-15T23:19:00.000-07:00

The "Vic Valentine", photo by Gabriel Hurley

The "Chumpy Walnut," photo by Gabriel Hurley

Now here's a "novel" concept - drink a book! Suzanne Long and Susan Eggett, the femme fatales of Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda, have created a special menu of deadly drinks inspired by my novels, debuting Monday, March 21 during my "Neurotic Noir" double bill of Edgar Ulmer's B masterpiece DETOUR (1945) and the incredible fever-dream-on-film DEMENTIA (1955), and thereafter available exclusively at my monthly Forbidden Thrills movie nites. They include the "Chumpy Walnut," the "Vic Valentine," "The Drowning Mermaid," the "Dark Alley" and the "Lavender Blonde." This is the full menu, designed by Tanoa Stewart. They are all decadently, dangerously, deliriously delicious literary libations. Cheers!

"Lavender Blonde"

FATE IS MY PIMP plus! ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK: the cover

2011-03-11T10:07:00.000-08:00

This is the great R. Black's fantastic cover for my latest book, to be published very soon, a "Vic Valentine Double Feature," FATE IS MY PIMP plus! ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK, the long-delayed sequels to the first Vic Valentine, Private Eye novel, LOVE STORIES ARE TOO VIOLENT FOR ME, published in 1995 by the now defunct Wild Card Press, and since repeatedly optioned for a film by Christian Slater. I actually think these are superior novels. The two-in-one book will appear first on Kindle, since I recently converted all of my recent novels to that format, selling them for cheap, check out my new Amazon Author's Page for links to both print and Kindle editions. FATE/ROMANCE will debut there shortly as a Kindle edition, followed very soon by the first print edition on Lulu, stay tuned. Cheers, Will

Jazz, Cocktails, Nudity & Live Pulp Fiction

2011-02-18T14:24:00.000-08:00

Valentine's, Yoshi's, San Francisco

With the Escovdeo Family, Yoshi's, 2/14/11

Pete Escovedo and Sheila E., Yoshi's 2/14/11

Valentine's dinner at Flora, Oakland

This has been a wet, wild week, and I'm not just talking weather. Monica Tiki Goddess and I had a spectacular Valentine's celebration, with a great dinner at one of our favorite Oakland eateries, Flora, followed by a cocktail crawl thru the new jazz venues on Fillmore in San Francisco, topped off with a fantastic show by Pete Escovedo and Sheila E. at Yoshi's. Then on Thursday, February 17, I did my first public reading from my own books in 15 years, as a special guest of Naked Girls Reading, San Francisco chapter, at cozy Mission District venue called Virachoca. First the gals - Lady Monster, Ophelia Couer de Noir, and Kitty McMuffin - read from their selections in the beautiful buff, which was quite the erotic, entertaining, edifying experience, then Monica and I, wearing our robes (due to modesty as well as the fact the heater was broken!) read from my latest novel, Lavender Blonde, and then I read a chapter from A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge. I also wore my fez since hey, it's performance art. At first I was quite nervous but once I found my rhythm, the audience of strangers responded quite enthusiastically, and I wound up selling all the books I'd brought with me. It was incredibly satisfying. This is Thrillville Now. Given the response to this event, I really want to do more public readings. Stay tuned for more, and if you missed this one, you really missed something special: pure, naked, artistic bliss. Cheers to a prosperous literary future. Read this comprehensive interview with me about my writing, B movies, cocktails, etc on RockabillyOnline.com.

Fox, Oakland

Reading "Lavender Blonde," Viracocha, 2/17/11

Reading "Lavender Blonde"

Kitty, Ophelia and Lady Monster - if you missed them nude, too bad for you

Faster Pussycat, Thrill! Thrill!: A Tiki Toast to Tura

2011-02-09T15:29:00.000-08:00

With Suz and Lee: Eat your heart out, Russ Meyer

With Pam and her Tura shrine

Lee as Tura/Varla: scary-sexy

The evening of Monday, February 7, I hosted an "emergency" Forbidden Thrills movie nite at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda, featuring a torrid torrent of tropical tributes to my late friend, TURA SATANA, who passed away this past Friday, February 4. Our master mixologist/manager Suzanne Long created a special memorial cocktail, "Varla's Blood": strong, sensuous and spicy like its namesake (Tura's character in Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill!), and our sexy server Lee Williams went all-out with an incredibly accurate Varla wig and costume, creating an eerily similar, voluptuous visage. Both these buxom beauties did Tura's memory some juicy justice. A first time FI patron, Pam Moore, came from San Leandro (Russ Meyer's birthplace!) and brought her Tura shrine with her, adding the perfect touch to the film festivities. Here's to Tura, cheers and aloha, pussycat. Read my Examiner article about Tura.

"Varla's Blood"

Cheers, Tura

Next in FORBIDDEN THRILLS at Forbidden Island: SEXY SWORD 'N' SORCERY!

My stepmom Anne Helm is "the Princess" in Bert. Gordons's fun, freak-filled fantasy THE MAGIC SWORD (1962) co-starring our friend Gary Lockwood, plus! Mario Bava's moody, macabre muscleman masterpiece HERCULES IN THE HAUNTED WORLD (1961), starring Reg Park and Christopher Lee.
Monday, February 21, 7:30, free popcorn, no cover!

Annie

TURA SATANA RIP: Aloha pussycat

2011-02-05T18:33:00.000-08:00

In bed with Tura: a wet dream come true

Tura as a torrid teen temptress

Dinner with an icon: Nikko Hotel, San Francisco, 2006

Tura sizzles in "Astro Zombies"

Tura lives forever as Varla in "Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill!"

I got a phone call this morning that not only changed my mood and my agenda for the day, but rocked my world. It was from my gal pal, swingin' SIOUXZAN PERRY, manager extraordinaire for many of the legendary Russ Meyer babes - including our famous friend TURA SATANA, who passed away on Friday, February 4 - Sooz's bday! - from natural causes at age 73. I promised to help craft an official press release and co-network memorial tributes, and naturally I've been busy posting my own memories all over cyberspace. It was an honor to know this great lady and film icon, a former model who went on to star in three of the greatest cult flicks of all time: Russ Meyer's immortal FASTER PUSSYCAT, KILL! KILL! (1965), and Ted V. Mikels' pair of timeless thrillers THE ASTRO ZOMBIES (1968) and THE DOLL SQUAD (1973). I'll be presenting both Pussycat and Astro Zombies in a special "Faster Pussycat, Thrill! Thrill" Tribute to Tura at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda (where I hosted her 69th birthday party for her June 10, 2007!), with a cocktail special created in her honor, this Monday, February 7, 7:30, no cover. More later, including my interview with Tura for VARLA Magazine, her second to last ever. For now, these photos say more than I ever could. Cheers to Tura! Tura! TURA!

Tura and my late cat Bubba, now both in Pussycat Heaven

Hosting Tura's 69th bday at Forbidden Island, 7/10/07


With Otto Von Stroheim and Siouxzan Perry, Forbidden Island

Tura and the Tiki Goddess, Forbidden Island 7/10/07

Aloha, pussycat

The return of Vic Valentine: FATE IS MY PIMP and ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK

2011-02-01T17:27:00.000-08:00

After a 15 year hiatus, the further exploits of Vic Valentine Private Eye are finally going into print and coming to an online bookstore near anyone with a computer. I've actually written four sequels to LOVE STORIES ARE TOO VIOLENT FOR ME, issued in 1996 by Wild Card Press in San Francisco, now out of print, but they've never been published - until now. The second and third Vic novels, FATE IS MY PIMP and ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK, are my next fiction project. That's singular because I'm publishing them under a single cover as a "Vic Valentine Double Feature." I then plan to publish the fourth and fifth Vic novels, I LOST MY HEART IN HOLLYWOOD and DIARY OF A DICK, as another "double feature," and then possibly finish the incomplete sixth Vic novel, HARD-BOILED HEART, published as a standalone along with an unpublished Vic short story I wrote years ago. I figure I have a lot of catching up to do. I've wasted too much time already. My movie programming/hosting career was merely a lengthy interlude, a distraction from what I deem to be my true destiny. I'm back now, and more creatively satisfied than ever. Hopefully this new edition of Vic Valentine adventures will be published by this April. My man R. Black, who created many iconic Thrillville posters as well as the cover for DOWN A DARK ALLEY, is doing the cover. Stay tuned to this blog and the Vic Valentine, Private Eye Facebook Page for updates. Cheers.

Here is the planned back cover blurb:

FATE IS MY PIMP picks up the torrid trail of Vic Valentine, Private Eye as he traverses the mean streets of San Francisco and beyond in search of a mobster's missing teenage daughter, encountering various voluptuous vixens, a female surf band, and a stalker leaving him mysterious musical messages, all while infiltrating an Elvis-theme commune for runaways led by a deviously decadent Deacon Rivers. Follow the further misadventures of the misguided misfit introduced in LOVE STORIES ARE TOO VIOLENT FOR ME as he continues looking for love in all the wrong places, and unfortunately for him - finding it.

ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK finds Vic back on the East Coast, tracking down a lead on his cop father's killer, visiting his mother in the asylum, and reuniting with his high school sweetheart, Dolly Duncan, now married to a doper dentist. Nothing is what it seems, times and people have changed, and Vic is going to learn the hard way - again - that some bones, and boners, are best left buried.

More THRILLVILLE FICTION.

LIVE! NAKED! GIRLS! reading my novels!

2011-01-28T14:10:00.000-08:00

I just published my fifth "gonzo pulp" novel LAVENDER BLONDE, now available in print from Lulu as well as an ebook edition, to be distributed on Amazon.com, Barnes&Noble.com, and other global retail outlets in a month or so. And that's not even the coolest thing I have going on right now. My sexy pal Lady Monster just invited me to do a live reading from both Lavender Blonde and my earlier novel A MERMAID DROWNS IN THE MIDNIGHT LOUNGE at Virachoca in San Francisco on Thursday, February 17, 8PM as a guest of the local chapter of the national literary program NAKED GIRLS READING, which is exactly what it sounds like. There will be several bodacious bookworms present in all their glory, including my foxy friend Dottie Lux, as I take the stage with Monica Tiki Goddess (nude? we'll see...) to read erotic passages from both of these sensuous, surreal novels. Advance tickets $15-$20.00 now on sale. If this doesn't get you to love literature, I don't know what will. Cheers.

Naked Girls Reading...yes, it's true

LAVENDER BLONDE: the cover

2011-01-25T13:26:00.000-08:00

This is the spectacularly sensuous cover for my latest slice of gonzo pulp fiction, LAVENDER BLONDE, composed and painted by my friends and longtime Thrillville collaborators Mister Lobo and his talented partner in psychotronia, Dixie Dellamorto.

Back cover blurb: Lavender Blonde is a psycho-sexual portrait of erotic obsession, conveyed in soul-searching conversations between an itinerant jazz musician, raised in a brothel, and a savvy, sexy social worker, exploring and exposing themes and tales of loneliness and lust as the mysteries behind the madness are slowly revealed...

Read more about Lavender Blonde on this earlier blog. Special thanks to my dear friend Greg "Goyo" Vargas for the encouragement; this is his favorite of my books. It will be published and available for purchase very soon; stay tuned for updates here and on the Lavender Blonde Facebook Page. Cheers, Will the Quill

Forbidden Thrills: AQUA-SHOCKERS Monday January 24

2011-01-19T10:35:00.000-08:00

Postcard by Tanoa Stewart

My first Forbidden Thrills movie nite of 2011 at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda is a double bill to drown for: the surreal Japanese sci-fi classic TERROR BENEATH THE SEA (1966) features pre-stardom action icon Sonny Chiba vs. an army of mutant fish men, with a cool, eerie electronic score and colorful visuals that makes it feel and look like a cross between Marine Boy and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. PLUS! Horror legend Peter Cushing revives an army of Nazi zombies to attack a bunch of neurotics on a remote island in the greatest underwater Nazi zombie flick of all time, SHOCK WAVES (1977), co-starring fellow horror legend John Caradine and some hot babes in bikinis. With prizes, free popcorn and surprise short subjects. Monday, January 24, 7:30. Be there. Aloha.

LAVENDER BLONDE: My latest fiction project

2011-01-14T19:23:00.000-08:00

Andy Warhol's "Marilyn"

After publishing three novels last year - A MERMAID DROWNS IN THE MIDNIGHT LOUNGE, CHUMPY WALNUT, and DOWN A DARK ALLEY - I'm kicking off 2011 with yet another addition to the Viharo Pulp Fiction Library : my 1987 novel, LAVENDER BLONDE (and for the record, I coined that term when Lady GaGa was only a year old, long before she turned it into a fashion statement.) As I did with Chumpy Walnut, originally written between 1979 and 1982, and Down a Dark Alley, originally written in 1992, I'm going back and slightly revising some of the text, mainly updating cultural references so it's not too dated, while keeping the main characters and storyline intact. In this case, there are only two main characters, Eddie "the Putz," as he calls himself, (think: Oedipus), a lonesome, itinerant, down-and-out sax player, raised in a brothel, and a mysterious, ethereal, sensuous and very savvy female social worker he only refers to as "Doc." Together, via anecdotal evidence, they try to get to the bottom of his obsession with blondes. The book is broken up into chapters called "Sessions," which can refer to either a psychiatric rendezvous or a musical jam, and it consists entirely of dialogue and "sound effects," as if the reader is eavesdropping on the conversation through a keyhole. This is another book I call "Gonzo Pulp" - a completely fabricated tale that is also deeply personal. I dig books that make me feel like I know the author through their work, and I like to think I write those kinds of books. It's interesting and a bit unsettling to revisit something I wrote when I was only 24 - 24 years later. I'm amazed by both how much I've changed in some ways, but also how little in others. You'll just have to wait and read it for yourself. Lavender Blonde - with pending cover art by Mister Lobo and Dixie Dellamorto - is due this Spring or sooner from Thrillville Press. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading. (Exclusive excerpts can be enjoyed on the Lavender Blonde Facebook Page.) Cheers.

Lindsay Lohan as Marilyn Monroe - nice lavender...

ELVIS: It Happened at the Parkway

2011-01-07T13:16:00.000-08:00

Yvonne and Elvis, "It Happened at the World's Fair," 1963

Tomorrow, January 8, 2011, is Elvis Presley's 76th birthday. He's not around to celebrate it with us, but that never stopped me from hosting Elvis B-day (and D-day, August 16) parties since the early '90s. Originally they started in my little apartment; then I teamed up with friends PM Clary and Cory Levenberg to convince restaurants - and once, a Berkeley church! - to let us host public parties which often featured guest stars flown up at our expense, including Anne Helm, my stepmom, who co-starred with Elvis in 1962's Follow That Dream. After I scored my Thrillville gig at the Parkway, Elvis B-day and D-day parties became regular events, and I could actually book prints of his films. My first Elvis screening was Jailhouse Rock (1957) on May 31, 1997, when Thrillville was still called "The Midnight Lounge" - and that's where I met a sexy chick named Monica, whom I chose to come up and spin my Big Wheel as a "guest lovely assistant." She showed me her Elvis/Navajo tattoo, I awarded her an Elvis blanket, and didn't think I'd ever see her again, though she made quite an impression. Then a few months later, on January 8, 1998, she showed up (per PM's invitation) at the Ivy Room in Albany for our Elvis B-day bash there, and, well, the rest is history. (Later we even got blonde co-star Jennifer Holden to appear at the Parkway with another of my several screenings of Jailhouse Rock, though meeting Monica was by far the most memorable.) Monica and I tied the knot at the Cal-Neva Resort in North Tahoe on May 31, 2001 - with mariachis performing Elvis and Rat Pack songs at the ceremony. I formally proposed to her on January 8, 2000 - though by then the Cal-Neva had already been booked...

With Yvonne and Gary, Parkway, August 2000

Next to these, my absolute favorite Elvis Party happened in August 2000, when I screened a badly faded but rare 35mm print of It Happened at the World's Fair, which was initially released the very day after I was born, April 3, 1963. I managed to coax my friend Yvonne Craig (most famous as "Batgirl" and the Green Girl in the Star Trek episode "Whom Gods Destroy"), who co-starred in the film with Elvis (she also co-starred in 1964's Kissin' Cousins) and her lovely sister Meridel to make an appearance at the screening, and she helped me convince our mutual friend Gary Lockwood to show up as well. Gary also co-starred in two Elvis movies, World's Fair as well as Wild in the Country (1961 - in which Elvis plays an aspiring writer!) though he is best known for his roles in 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) and the official Star Trek pilot, "Where No Man Has Gone Before." I first met Gary via my dear, late friend Julie Parrish, who co-starred with Elvis in Paradise, Hawaiian Style (1966) as well the Star Trek episode, "The Menagerie" (both she and Gary appeared at a lot of fan conventions together.) Both Julie and Yvonne I met via Annie. They're all great folks in person.

Anyway, the funny thing was, neither Yvonne or Gary had ever actually seen It Happened at the World's Fair. I was honored to finally give them both the opportunity, but they didn't really break their record this time, either. Both sat through the first twenty minutes or so before they both got bored and drifted back into the Parkway lobby to greet fans. Before that, though, I had the honor of sitting on a sofa next to Yvonne while, onscreen, Elvis sat next to Yvonne on a sofa, seducing her with the song "Relax." Wow. It was cosmic kismet. It remains one of my all time favorite Thrillville memories.

Kurt Russell and Elvis, 1963

Kurt Russell AS Elvis, 1978

World's Fair also features a cameo by a very young Kurt Russell, who gets hired to kick Elvis in the shins. Fifteen years later Kurt gave the best portrayal of The King ever in John Carpenter's TV biopic Elvis.

It's all connected somehow.

With stepmom Annie Helm and the late Deborah Walley, screening of "Spinout," Parkway, November 2000

I've also had the privilege of meeting and interviewing (for Filmfax and Outre magazines) Elvis co-stars Deborah Walley (Spinout) Joan Blackman (Blue Hawaii and Kid Galahad), and Stella Stevens (Girls! Girls! Girls!). I've profiled Annie in Filmfax as well. Never met Ann-Margret, but years ago I emailed her a fan letter and she sent both Monica and me autographed photos for free!

This year I'll be hosting the annual ELVIS B-DAY PARTY at its new home, Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge in Alameda, with cocktail specials, Elvis music videos and prizes. Be there. Aloha and TCB.

Elvis marries Joan Blackman in "Blue Hawaii"

Our Hawaiian honeymoon, June 2001

Eee-O 2011: Still The Thrill

2011-01-04T00:20:00.000-08:00

The Big Countdown at Midnight

Checkin' the VIP list

Monica and me

Monica Tiki Goddess and I rung in the New Year ring-a-ding-ding style at Forbidden Island's "Tiki-lypso" party, featuring live music by Apocalypso Now, a trip through pop music history by DJ Tanoa, exotic booze, sexy dames, party favors, Ocean's 11 on the bar TV, and an all-around good time, even though I was the doorman. I don't plan to be a doorman forever - hell, I never planned to be one at all - but if you gotta be a bouncer, this is the place to do it. I just love the retro-aloha atmosphere, so it never feels like a job. My Forbidden Thrills movie nites there are now programmed for the entire year, follow the schedule here. I'm also busy submitting articles on a regular basis for my Oakland Examiner indie movie column, and naturally I'm constantly promoting my pulp novels via Thrillville Press and Lulu. So I'm keeping busy even though the search for steady income continues post-Speakeasy Theaters. There is a strong chance the Parkway will reopen this year under new (and improved) management , too. I'm not involved with this effort, though I think the place would be in good hands and I wish Moses and company all the best. It certainly would be a welcome boon for that neighborhood in particular and the Parkway's loyal legion of mournful fans in general. Me, I've successfully moved on, returning to my literary roots while maintaining my rep as a movie impresario via these different avenues. With all these promising fires lit, it's going to be another interesting year, and hopefully, finally, a prosperous one as well. As Sammy D. sang: "It's just a state of mind, whether or not you'll find, that place down there or heaven...in the meantime, Eee-O Eee-O, Eee-O Eleven..." I don't know what that means either, but I like the sound of it. Dig. Cheers.

Photos by Gabriel Hurley.

Aloha 2010: a sad but productive year

2010-12-26T17:35:00.000-08:00

Christmas cocktails at the Rrazz Room, San Francisco, 12/25/10

With Bud E. Luv, at his Christmas Show at the Rrazz Room, San Francisco, 12/25/10

The passage of time can be marked in many ways. For me, the holiday season always leaves me with a feeling of bittersweet melancholia. I love this time of year but you only get so many Christmases in your lifetime. Then there's the official acknowledgment, New Year's Eve, when we collectively celebrate the end of one calendar year and the beginning of the next. Even though these are man-made markers of Time, they bear symbolic significance. It's not just a matter of making resolutions, but for reviewing recollections, chalking up accomplishments, and paying tribute to whatever, or whomever, you've lost since the last year-end toast.

Forbidden Thrills...

2010 was an incredibly painful yet simultaneously exhilarating year for me, personally and professionally. Whereas 2009 saw the end of my career as a film programmer, 2010 was the year I finally hung up the fez as ring-leader of Thrillville, though I really just down-shifted into "Chillville," hosting a so-far successful monthly movie (DVD) night called "Forbidden Thrills" at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge (where I'll be spending New Year's Eve, working the door). This downsized version of Thrillville - cult movies and cocktails sans the drama and logistics - better suits my mood these days. The road shows post-Speakeasy were fun but not particularly lucrative, or fulfilling. Facing both a creative and a financial crossroads, I decided to recalibrate my compass and change, or rather resume, course: I returned to my literary roots and finished a novel I had abandoned shortly after the Parkway opened in 1997, A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge, finished it, and then self-published it. This feat inspired me to go back and finally publish the very first novel I ever wrote, Chumpy Walnut, after living with it as manuscript for three decades, carrying it around like a genie in a bottle. I finally popped the cork. No dramatic magical changes in my life, but seeing it in print was in itself a self-granted wish. Finally, I published a crime novel that had been sitting on my web site for a few years, Down a Dark Alley, originally written in 1992, a year before I wrote my private eye novel Love Stories Are Too Violent For Me, published by Wild Card Press in 1996, and subsequently optioned by Christian Slater almost annually since 2001 (including a renewal this past summer.) If he ever finally makes the movie, that will definitely be a game-changer for my career. I can't count on it, though. That's why I just keep writing and rolling the dice. Down a Dark Alley is dedicated to my late friend Brian Hill, who always encouraged me to publish it. It was very satisfying, if still somewhat sad, given the fact he is gone, to finally hand a copy to his widow Mary.

Cover Image by Mike Lewis

My original illustrations for "Chumpy" adorn the cover

Cover art by R. Black

My beloved Bubba, RIP

But the overwhelming milestone of 2010 was the slow death of my beloved cat Bubba. He was diagnosed with cancer in January, and was only given a couple of months to live, but with a little diet adjustment, affordable medication and lots of love, he lasted another eight months, finally expiring on September 13 - the same day Chumpy Walnut was officially published. The anticipation of Bubba's demise cast a dark cloud over pretty much everything that transpired this year, including my return to writing fiction, but in a way, it inspired me to create, which has always been my proactive reaction to grief.

Googie and Tiki

Two days after we lost Bubba, we adopted a kitten whom we named Googie. He has given us much joy and provided a healing presence in this strange, post-Bubba world. We are very grateful for him. He makes a perfect companion to our dear female cat, Tiki, who has finally emerged from her mourning period. Now they get along splendidly, which does our broken hearts a lot of good.

Looking ahead to 2011, I am filled with the same unnerving mixture of hope and apprehension that plagued me the last two years around this time. But I got through 2009 and 2010, responding positively and many ways triumphantly to challenging circumstances, and I am confident I will continue this upward swing through 2011. Goal #1 remains finding steady work, ideally as a freelance writer, my true calling, desired vocation and really my only field of expertise. This can manifest in many ways. Besides my expanded fiction market, I have a new movie column at Examiner.com which doesn't pay much, but it helps to expand my platform and brand name, so that's a good. I need to keep building on my renewed literary foundation. Here's to many more thrills to come, both written and lived. Thanks for reading. Cheers and Happy New Year.

The Viharo Pulp Fiction Collection

Holiday Thrills at Forbidden Island

2010-12-14T14:15:00.000-08:00

Santa swings by the tiki lounge

Christmas Island

"Santa Claus Conquers Forbidden Island"

Christmas cocktail: "Milk and Cookies"

It was a festive evening of Forbidden Thrills at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge last night as I presented two kooky, krazy but kool Kris Kringle/St. Nick flix, SANTA CLAUS CONQUERS THE MARTIANS (1964) and the Mexican curio SANTA CLAUS (1959), plus cocktail specials, prizes (crap from my house), free popcorn, and a visit from Santa himself. This pared down, laid back tiki bar incarnation of Thrillville has been a hit so far, and I plan on continuing the monthly series well into 2011 and beyond. It's just the right mix of cult movies, cocktails and, most significantly, convenience.

For more on Psycho Santa Cinema, please see my new Examiner indie movie column.

Happy Holidays from the Thrills, cheers.

My annual Elvis holiday card, 2010: "We Three Kings"

Happy 95th Birthday, Frank Sinatra

2010-12-12T13:10:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to check in and publicly acknowledge the 95th birthday of my spiritual mentor, Frank Sinatra. I vividly recall "receiving" the Rat Pack at one of their final appearances together, in 1988 at the Oakland Coliseum. A seed was planted. Soon thereafter, I was inspired to shake off my self-pitying rags and buy my first sharkskin jacket, and not much later, the book "CAD: A Handbook for Heels," and my future as a hep cat was sealed. Ever since then I've been building up my lounge lizard creds, peaking with my May 31, 2001 wedding to The Tiki Goddess at Frank's joint, the Cal-Neva Resort in North Tahoe, with a Rat Pack/mariachi themed wedding. Without Frank, there'd be no Will the Thrill or Thrillville. He vicariously taught me how to stop whining and enjoy myself. "You gotta love livin', baby, 'cause dyin' in a pain in the ass." A great motto to swing by. Cheers to the Chairman.

Will the Thrill's Top 10 Movies of 2010

2010-12-02T13:35:00.000-08:00

I know the year's not over yet, but I don't see anything coming up I actually want to see (or that could possibly replace anything on this list) until THE GREEN HORNET in January. For what it's worth, here's my list, which can be recalled and revised without notice.* The main point is to spotlight some movies that may have - probably have - slipped through the mainstream critical cracks. Cheers.

1. KICK-ASS - quite simply, much to my surprise, not only the best of the year, but one of the greatest movies ever made - subversive pop culture genius. Chloe Moretz (Hit-Girl) is easily the Best Actress of the Year, I don't give a damn what Oscar has to say about it. I never do.

2. MACHETE - violence, action, wit, nudity, social satire: the ultimate Mexploitation flick has it all, a modern grindhouse masterpiece. Robert Rodriguez does it again.

3. COLIN - the most moving, gripping, convincing portrait of a zombie apocalypse I've ever seen, made for practically nothing, and that's something.

4. PONTYPOOL - a thinking person's zombie movie, incredibly original and intellectually provocative as well as thrilling.

5. ALL ABOUT EVIL - Peaches Christ/Joshua Grannel's locally made cult sensation is the most entertaining splatter-satire (splattire?) since BLOOD FEAST. (Read my complete review and interview with Josh/Peaches on my new Oakland Indie Movie Examiner blog .)

6. THE KILLER INSIDE ME - low-key, hard-edged and satisfyingly faithful adaptation of the raw, ruthless Jim Thompson pulp novel. Special award to Jessica Alba for appearing in two of the year's best, equally sexy in both (the other being Machete.)

7. OSS 117: LOST IN RIO - super-stylish swingin' '60s spy spoof from France, with Jean Dujardin as a secret agent who "gets smart" only after a lot of dumb mistakes; even more fun than the previous installment, Oss 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies (2006), with sly references to lucha libre cinema, Elvis, Dean Martin and Vertigo.

8. REC 2 - intense zombie horror, even better than the first or its excellent US remake QUARANTINE.

9. THE WOLFMAN -Benicio Del Toro's fairly faithful remake of the 1941 Universal classic is really a hair-raising homage to old school monster movie-making. Rick Baker's practical makeup effects are spectacular, the mood is moon-licious; and Anthony Hopkins literally chews up the scenery as Papa Wolf.

10. BLACK SWAN - just added! Read my full Examiner.com review here.

RUNNERS-UP:

SKYLINE - brain-sucking alien monsters turn humans into zombies - we just don't see enough of that these days. At least not in movies.

THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE - hands down the most disturbing, disgusting movie I've ever seen, an accomplishment that must be acknowledged. I have no desire to ever watch it again, though I may check out the sequel.

THE EXPENDABLES - should've lived up to its all-star billing instead of being basically a Stallone-Statham buddy flick with aging action icon cameos, but overall, acceptable if not indispensable mindless fun.

THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE WEIRD: Korean remake of the Leone spaghetti western masterpiece gets points for style and verve, but I didn't find it quite good, bad or weird enough to make my Top 10.

Martin Scorsese's psycho-noir thriller-chiller SHUTTER ISLAND was an atmospheric standout, though not up to par with his earlier urban gangster masterpieces, which remain his signature work; certainly superior to THE DEPARTED, though.

Ben Affleck's THE TOWN, an entertaining if rather routine noir heist flick.

I admired Chris Nolan's high-concept sci-fi dream noir thriller INCEPTION but the fact that I just remembered it proves it didn't leave much of a lasting impression on me.

BIGGEST LETDOWNS:

IRON MAN 2, which, given the pedigree and potential, should've been even better than the first one, but fell far short, IMHO;

...and worst of all, George Romero's SURVIVAL OF THE DEAD, the only one of his legendary zombie flicks that let me down - I've seen it several times and unlike his other recent "Dead" films LAND or DIARY, it doesn't improve with each viewing. I have several zombie flicks on my list, and none were made by Romero, the master of the genre. That is depressing. Still, it was a great thrill - and one the year's personal highlights - when I finally got the chance to shake the great man's hand at a personal appearance in San Francisco back in May.

Overall, though, not a bad year for B movies. Gives one hope for mankind. Well, a little. Cheers.

*This list has been modified since its original publication.

Pimping "Chumpy"; Re-Animating "Mermaid"

2010-11-17T13:39:00.000-08:00

Halloween is celebrated daily in the town of Thrillville. The last couple of days were a prime example. On Monday November 15, I hosted my Forbidden Thrills Tribute to the immortal Ed Wood at Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, with screenings of two of his all-time masterpieces, Glen or Glenda (1953) and Bride of the Monster, along with an angora sweater contest, cocktail specials ("Pink Angora'), and Ernie "Hardware Wars" Fosselius' most recent classic parody, the hilarious Plan 9.1 From Outer Space - with puppets! I was also selling copies of my novel Chumpy Walnut - the "second edition," with some typos I missed twice, hand-corrected by yours truly (the "cleaner" third edition is now on sale.) Chumpy is my "Glen or Glenda" - a story of a misfit that had to be told, and one only I could tell.

The next day, Tuesday November 16 (naturally), I returned to the Balboa Theater in San Francisco for the first time since one of my final Thrillville road shows, Valentine's Day with Donna Loren, to meet Stuart Gordon, whom I interviewed in conjunction with Thrillville's 12th Anniversary show last year. He was appearing with screenings of his classics Re-Animator (1985) and From Beyond (1987), two of my all-time favorite flicks. I took the opportunity to hand him a copy of my recent pulp-horror-exploitation novel A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge, along with its original "soundtrack" by Actual Rafiq, Music For a Drowning Mermaid. Long shot he'll consider optioning it for a film, but my aim was to share some of my work with someone whose work I have appreciated for many, many years. It's also a book I think he'll enjoy, full of zombies, sex and lurid action. I gotta keep the dice rollin'...cheers.

Feeling up Molokai Mike's angora at Forbidden Island

Getting "Re-Animated" by Stuart Gordon, Balboa Theater

Artwork by Aaron Farmer

Hulaween 2010: Mucha Lucha, Poco Loco

2010-11-01T16:11:00.000-07:00

This was my first post-Thrillville, post-Bubba Halloween, and it was pretty lowkey. The lack of pressure was refreshing, though I'm still depressed about losing Bubba back in September, and am very worried about my financial prospects, which, given the probable outcome of the looming election, with Republicans likely regaining control of the House, don't look so good, especially for struggling artists like myself. Anyway, I spent most of the past month watching horror movies, from old favorites like I Was a Teenage Werewolf to Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein to my favorite new zombie flick, Colin, a mini-masterpiece of gritty gore and lonesome, apocalyptic pathos from Britain (my interview with director Marc Price will appear in the forthcoming issue of Varla Magazine), which means it was pretty much like any other month. Recently we caught Joshua Grannell's new cult classic, All About Evil, where it was filmed, at the Victoria in San Francisco, with a stage pre-show starring Peaches Christ, and that was a lot of fun. On the actual holiday, I presided over Forbidden Island's annual Hulaween Party. Attendance was robust, considering it fell on a Sunday, and we were up against the World Series, this year featuring a local team, the SF Giants (I'm not a sports fan and Monica is loyal to the Oakland A's, so I'm basically apathetic), but the game ended early - and victoriously - so it all wound up okay for everybody. Spooky platters spun by DJ Tanoa and live theremin by my old pal Robert Silverman livened up the proceedings. The joint was hoppin'. I wore my Blue Demon mask most of the day and into the night. After I got home, I watched the premiere of AMC's new series The Walking Dead, which did not disappoint - suspenseful, moving, gory, credible and very faithful to the source material. All in all, not a bad Halloween, if not a particularly memorable one, except for the fact it was the first one spent with our new kitten, Googie, who is getting along pretty well with his adopted big sister, Tiki. Here's to many more. Cheers & chills.

CHUMPY WALNUT now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble

2010-10-26T15:18:00.000-07:00

My very first novel CHUMPY WALNUT , written and illustrated (by me) 30 years ago and recently revised for publication, is now available online at Amazon, Barnes&Noble, and via special order from your local bookseller. It is very gratifying to see this novel in circulation after so long. In my little life, it is legendary. Now the Cult of Chumpy is growing outside the boundaries of my own social circles. I'm actually in the process of trademarking the character for future merchandising opportunities arise, and I have a feeling they will, corroborated by Friends of Chumpy. All three of my recent novels - including A MERMAID DROWNS IN THE MIDNIGHT LOUNGE and DOWN A DARK ALLEY - are available in print and ebook at Lulu.com on my Thrillville Press storefront. Cheers for Chumpy!

Thrillville

The Thrillville Video Jukebox: Greatest Hits

IT CAME FROM THE NEW PARKWAY! Plus! Tiki Goddess Meets Police Woman!

SHADOW MUSIC and NEON ROSE: sonic blasts from my literary past

"It Came from Hangar 18": the back, and The Future

Cheers to 2011; Aloha 2012

Attack of the Pulp Fiction Writer: more press, & more!

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": THE TRAILER

IT CAME FROM HANGAR 18: the cover

Happy Halloween! "Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room" is NOW ON SALE!

SFBG article on my books: spreading the good (and bad) words

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": FINAL COVER

"Kitten With a Whip": cat on a cool tin roof

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": front artwork and back cover blurb

The Prince of Pulp: "My Quill Is Quick"

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": Chapter Four

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": Chapter Three

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": Chapter Two

"Freaks That Carry Your Luggage Up to the Room": Chapter One (a work in progress)

"How To Make a Velvet Monster" & Hot Rod Hullabaloo!

Marking one year of "Forbidden Thrills" - Aloha!

From Thrillville to Yountville: Our 10th Wedding Anniversary

Celebrating the 10 Best Years of my Life - and the Best Is Yet to Come

Shatner, Sex, & other reasons to celebrate post-Rapture

The Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection book trailer

Shooting a pulp book trailer; Mourning a B movie goddess

The Thrillville Pulp Fiction Collection is finally complete (for now!)

Scenes from the Thrillville 14th Anniversary Tiki Party

I LOST MY HEART IN HOLLYWOOD/DIARY OF A DICK: The cover

Thrillville turns 14, Tiki style

Vic Valentine is back in print: FATE IS MY PIMP/ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK now available!

Will the Thrill's "Pulp Cocktails," only at Forbidden Island!

FATE IS MY PIMP plus! ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK: the cover

Jazz, Cocktails, Nudity & Live Pulp Fiction

Faster Pussycat, Thrill! Thrill!: A Tiki Toast to Tura

TURA SATANA RIP: Aloha pussycat

The return of Vic Valentine: FATE IS MY PIMP and ROMANCE TAKES A RAIN CHECK

LIVE! NAKED! GIRLS! reading my novels!

LAVENDER BLONDE: the cover

Forbidden Thrills: AQUA-SHOCKERS Monday January 24

LAVENDER BLONDE: My latest fiction project

ELVIS: It Happened at the Parkway

Eee-O 2011: Still The Thrill

Aloha 2010: a sad but productive year

Holiday Thrills at Forbidden Island

Happy 95th Birthday, Frank Sinatra

Will the Thrill's Top 10 Movies of 2010

1. KICK-ASS - quite simply, much to my surprise, not only the best of the year, but one of the greatest movies ever made - subversive pop culture genius. Chloe Moretz (Hit-Girl) is easily the Best Actress of the Year, I don't give a damn what Oscar has to say about it. I never do.

2. MACHETE - violence, action, wit, nudity, social satire: the ultimate Mexploitation flick has it all, a modern grindhouse masterpiece. Robert Rodriguez does it again.

3. COLIN - the most moving, gripping, convincing portrait of a zombie apocalypse I've ever seen, made for practically nothing, and that's something.

4. PONTYPOOL - a thinking person's zombie movie, incredibly original and intellectually provocative as well as thrilling.

5. ALL ABOUT EVIL - Peaches Christ/Joshua Grannel's locally made cult sensation is the most entertaining splatter-satire (splattire?) since BLOOD FEAST. (Read my complete review and interview with Josh/Peaches on my new Oakland Indie Movie Examiner blog.)

6. THE KILLER INSIDE ME - low-key, hard-edged and satisfyingly faithful adaptation of the raw, ruthless Jim Thompson pulp novel. Special award to Jessica Alba for appearing in two of the year's best, equally sexy in both (the other being Machete.)

8. REC 2 - intense zombie horror, even better than the first or its excellent US remake QUARANTINE.

10. BLACK SWAN - just added! Read my full Examiner.com review here.

RUNNERS-UP:

SKYLINE - brain-sucking alien monsters turn humans into zombies - we just don't see enough of that these days. At least not in movies.

THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE - hands down the most disturbing, disgusting movie I've ever seen, an accomplishment that must be acknowledged. I have no desire to ever watch it again, though I may check out the sequel.

THE EXPENDABLES - should've lived up to its all-star billing instead of being basically a Stallone-Statham buddy flick with aging action icon cameos, but overall, acceptable if not indispensable mindless fun.

THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE WEIRD: Korean remake of the Leone spaghetti western masterpiece gets points for style and verve, but I didn't find it quite good, bad or weird enough to make my Top 10.

Martin Scorsese's psycho-noir thriller-chiller SHUTTER ISLAND was an atmospheric standout, though not up to par with his earlier urban gangster masterpieces, which remain his signature work; certainly superior to THE DEPARTED, though.

Ben Affleck's THE TOWN, an entertaining if rather routine noir heist flick.

I admired Chris Nolan's high-concept sci-fi dream noir thriller INCEPTION but the fact that I just remembered it proves it didn't leave much of a lasting impression on me.

Overall, though, not a bad year for B movies. Gives one hope for mankind. Well, a little. Cheers.

*This list has been modified since its original publication.

Pimping "Chumpy"; Re-Animating "Mermaid"

Hulaween 2010: Mucha Lucha, Poco Loco

CHUMPY WALNUT now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble

5. ALL ABOUT EVIL - Peaches Christ/Joshua Grannel's locally made cult sensation is the most entertaining splatter-satire (splattire?) since BLOOD FEAST. (Read my complete review and interview with Josh/Peaches on my new Oakland Indie Movie Examiner blog .)