The Blog of Abel Horwitz

Two things. The first I can speak of, the second I...

Tue, 21 May 2013 02:51:00 -0400

Two things.

The first I can speak of, the second I cannot.

Saturday found me dressed in a tuxedo and taken on a shuttle to Skid Row. When I got off the shuttle I found myself in another world.

This world is called “Lucent Dossier”, and any description would be impossible to contain it all, but I think I can best explain at as the kind of circus where you’re as much a part of the show as the performers are.

They have a warehouse, and have outfitted it with a DJ and bar. My evening was spent dancing, watching the troupe perform, and wandering around their magical space.

After dancing for a while I left the floor and went to visit the Captain’s Quarters. I waited my turn for an audience with the Captain.

I knew she would be there, for I had sent her a poem the night before.

She served me tea. She had me write my name into a ledger, as well as a mantra (I chose; “Say ‘Yes’ more than ‘No’”), and she then sealed it with wax.

She gave me a coin and instructions on how to begin the scavenger hunt.

And so I left, wandering through their world, looking for boxes and clues along the way.

When I came upon my prize — popcorn and fruit — I pocketed as much as I could.

I wandered some more, until I came to one of Lucent Dossier’s mice, and I gave her a clementine. She was so excited her tail fell off.

I stood in line to get my fortune read by a Hungarian gypsy who read coffee grounds.

The wait for this was long — over an hour — but it was worth it to learn what the future has in store for me.

The evening ended early on Sunday morning, and I left their world, still wide awake from the Gypsy’s coffee, and went to bed after the sun rose.

Sunday evening found me in West Hollywood, in a location which I am forbidden to name.

This one — BLACKOUT — I have written about before. This one is the most intense, the most agressive of the haunted houses.

Last night did not disappoint. I was grabbed, dragged, humiliated, spit on, marked.

I had willingly paid for this, signing up for the opportunity to do something most people would consider a nightmare.

More than that, I had agreed to be filmed.

By this point I had already given multiple interviews as to my fascination with haunted houses.

“What if they write about you in the paper?” the documentary producer asked me.

“What if they call you depraved? Deranged? A menace to society?”

“But I’m not!” I tell her. “Can’t you see, this is all art!? This is a theater troupe, and what they are doing is creating an emotion. It is uncomfortable. It is terrifying. But, above all, it is a performance. I want to make my own. Somehow, some way. I want to be a part of their world! To make people scream! To push them out of their comfort zone!”

“Is that not the mark of true art?” I ask. “The kind in which you come out a bit differently than you come in?”

And she leans over the camera and looks at me.

She smiles.

“Abel,” she asks, “Were you the little boy who always wished he had run away to join the circus?”

And no one has ever asked me that before, nor have I really thought about it in that context.

But.

“Yes,” I tell her, startled at the simplicity of it all. “Yes I am.”

And so Lucent Dossier. And so Blackout. And so The Magic Castle. And so Zombie Joe’s Underground. And so six years of working on film sets.

It is all the circus.

It is all a way for me to take off my mask and let the child inside of me run wild.

The child who wants nothing more than to live among the tightrope walkers, the fire eaters, the lion tamers.

The child who cried hysterically the first time I saw a clown.

And isn’t that what good art is supposed to do? Push you into places where you don’t feel comfortable? To clean out the cobwebs of our brain, so overworked by the world we live in?

Because I’ve said “No” too many times, and now want to say “Yes”.

Because it is scary. Because I am terrified of it all.

Because I got my fortune read, and she looked up at me and asked, “Are you chasing white rabbits?”

And I surprised myself with my answer;

“Yes. Yes I am.”

atlasobscura: atavist: Happy Birthday, John Burroughs! A...

Wed, 15 May 2013 13:32:53 -0400

atlasobscura:

atavist:

Happy Birthday, John Burroughs! A pioneer of the American nature essay, a genre unto itself. And the man who said,

“I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.”

We agree, John. We agree.

Thirded.

On Friday evening I went to Zombie Joe’s Underground to see the...

Tue, 14 May 2013 03:29:00 -0400

On Friday evening I went to Zombie Joe’s Underground to see the opening night of “Richard III”.

Director Denise Devin has taken Shakespeare’s 3 hour epic and condensed it into a tightly wound hour of deception, backstabbing and power grabbing in the tiny Zombie Joe’s Theater.

I give all credit to Devin, who has clearly done her homework. Prior to going to see the show, I read an interview with Devin in which she explained her research into the real-life Richard III, and had made the decision to cast an age-accurate actor for the part.

Richard was 32 when he died, yet most productions have cast older actors to play the part (Ian McKellan was 56 when he played Richard, Laurence Olivier was 47).

My biggest compliment for the play would be for Devin’s adept casting of the title role. W. Lochridge O’Bryan plays Richard so with such malice and such passion that it is impossible to take your eyes off of him.

Of note was his scene with Anne Neville, played by Anna Gillcrist, where he attempts to seduce her, despite his previous murder of her father and husband.

The scene was as delightfully complex as it could be, and O’Bryan and Gilcrist play it with such a myriad of feelings and emotions throughout. I was stunned by how good they were.

Producing Shakespearian drama, to me, feels like a hard sell. While I must commend Zombie Joe’s Underground and Devin for mounting such a complex piece, it was hard for me to sit there for an hour and be fully captivated. Often times, Shakespeare can feel like homework.

Shakespeare can be a delight if one is studied and educated on his plays and the context of the time in which he wrote them, but as I was watching actors attempt to get their mouths around difficult words it felt like watching a bunch of actors recite memorized lines, rather than truly perform. I would like to chalk this up to opening night jitters, and hope they get better as the play continues forward.

Furthermore, seeing the same actor wearing a slightly different costume to indicate that they’re a different character was so maddeningly confusing that I had difficulty with the continuity of the show.

I knew, overall, where we were heading, but had a hard time following the performances, scratching my head over who was supposed to be on Richard’s side or on that of his opposition.

Often times an actor would come into a scene to speak poorly of Richard, only to turn around and come back out wearing a different top, playing a character who was on Richard’s side.

One such example of this was actress Tina Preston, who walked onstage as Queen Margaret, cursed Richard, left, and came back a few moments later portraying the more sympathetic Queen Elizabeth.

It was fascinating to see the play now, in context to the remains of Richard being unearthed earlier this year.

All and all, I am happy to have seen the show. It was challenging, but forced me to go do some research into both the play and the actual history of Richard III.

And perhaps that is the mark of good theater – the kind where you walk out hungry for more.

THIS IS WATER (by SeeTheGlossary) In 2005, author David Foster...

Fri, 10 May 2013 14:00:38 -0400

THIS IS WATER (by SeeTheGlossary)

In 2005, author David Foster Wallace was asked to give the commencement address to the 2005 graduating class of Kenyon College. However, the resulting speech didn’t become widely known until 3 years later, after his tragic death. It is, without a doubt, some of the best life advice we’ve ever come across, and perhaps the most simple and elegant explanation of the real value of education.

We made this video, built around an abridged version of the original audio recording, with the hopes that the core message of the speech could reach a wider audience who might not have otherwise been interested. However, we encourage everyone to seek out the full speech (because, in this case, the book is definitely better than the movie).
-The Glossary

Full speech here: http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/09/12/this-is-water-david-foster-wallace/

emilytea10: seek-agreatperhaps: invisiblecashews: Actually,...

Thu, 09 May 2013 16:11:27 -0400

emilytea10:

seek-agreatperhaps:

invisiblecashews:

Actually, the photographs are spaced ten years apart, not sixteen.

1912 to 1922.

The young, homeless (but no less dapper) wanderer shown in the first survived the sinking of the Titanic and swam to the shores of West Egg. There he built a life and a large, empty house, in an effort to win the heart of the wealthy, upper class woman he’d fallen in love with a decade earlier and had been separated from against his will.

He shed his earlier identity, and changed his name to reflect his new station. Jack was now known as Jay Gatzby, the eccentric millionaire who threw parties every night in the hopes that one day his love would show up and spin with him as they had long ago in the dance hall of the lower decks.

Ehr-Mah-Gehrd.

#and he still ends up dead floating in the water

Go to your room.

BBC News ‘Queen’ Helen Mirren scolds London street...

Mon, 06 May 2013 13:09:00 -0400

BBC News ‘Queen’ Helen Mirren scolds London street drummers (by BBCWorldNewsWatch)

Yes! Helen Mirren — dressed as Queen Elizabeth — walked outside of the theater where she was acting and scolded drummers for being loud while her play was being performed.

I’ve written about her before. I had the utter pleasure of being Mrs. Mirren’s personal assistant during the filming of Love Ranch in 2008.

She was an outstanding boss, and the experience was an absolute joy from start to finish.

I remember a moment during production where an extra was taking video phone pictures of some of our young actresses, making them feel uncomfortable.

No one knew what to do about the guy, but Helen walked into the middle of the crowd — full costume, hair, makeup — and scolded him for being rude and leering at the girls.

She’s fearless. Unstoppable. A force to be reckoned with.

Go Helen, go!

Basil Twist - Puppets Alive (by USAArtists)

Thu, 02 May 2013 20:24:42 -0400

Basil Twist - Puppets Alive (by USAArtists)

I have won a dinner tomorrow night from Craig Thornton and Miles...

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 19:29:00 -0400

I have won a dinner tomorrow night from Craig Thornton and Miles Thompson, which will make it incredibly hard for me to go to sleep tonight.

"You absolutely have to leave your home town. That’s the only way that you can learn about yourself...."

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 12:44:09 -0400

“You absolutely have to leave your home town. That’s the only way that you can learn about yourself. It’s the only way you’ll learn what you like and who you truly are.”

- (via maliarummell)

I first published this on Murder Motels. Check them out. I dig...

Fri, 19 Apr 2013 14:30:57 -0400

I first published this on Murder Motels. Check them out. I dig their website. -A

On the weekend of April 12 – 14, horror fans descended en masse to Burbank, California, to take part in Monsterpalooza.

Monsterpalooza, the convention celebrating all things horror, is the brainchild of –

Stop the fucking presses; I met Big Bird.

…ok…ok…and breathe.

Monsterpalooza was started in 2008 by Eliot Brodsky. It was originally called Maskapalooza, and was put together as a celebration of the art of mask making.

Seven months later, Mr. Brodsky brought his vision to the Burbank Marriott Hotel and called it “Monsterpalooza”. The fans have been coming out every since.

Now in it’s fifth year, the line stretches around the block to get in. Once in, you are bombarded with the freaks who are lucky enough to earn their living constructing masks, prosthetics, props, and more for the world of gore, horror, and the wicked. On display was everything from $10 Do-It-Yourself latex masks, to fine art priced in the thousands of dollars.

It was my first time there, and it was nuts.

Halloween, and the world of horror, is a multi-billion dollar industry, and this becomes very apparent at Monsterpalooza. The detail found in the props and costumes on display were so high that sometimes it was hard to tell where the monster ended and the person began.

Off the convention floor, there were panel talks covering various aspects of the world of monsters.

The first panel I attended was hosted by the two non-HAL 9000 actors from 2001: A Space Odyssey, Kier Dullea and Gary Lockwood.

These old men laughed and bantered back and fourth. They had nothing but positive things to say about Stanley Kubrick, and looked back at their time on that groundbreaking film with the same awe and wonder that the rest of us have.

Following the 2001 panel was a talk by Jon Murdy, lead creative, and Chris Williams, lead designer, for Universal Studio’s Halloween Horror Nights.

The two men scrolled through various slides of illustrations, final mazes, and pictures of inspiration from both movies and real life that have made their way into Murdy and William’s insanely detailed Horror Night’s mazes. Like the 2001 actors before them, the pair have the great chemistry that comes from a successful creative collaboration, and they worked hard to give the audience a peak into their creative process.

The seats were filled with fans of the Universal Studios haunted houses. We laughed at all the in-jokes, applauded at the detail put into the mazes, and in the end, Murdy announced a contest that will culminate with a fan getting to design a 2013 monster for the park. Details can be found on Murdy’s Twitter account.

Beyond the panels, there was an autograph area, where celebrities with connections to the horror industry sold their pictures and autographs for cash. Among the crowd I spotted Danny Glover, Martin Landau, and Virginia Madsen.

The biggest draw by far was Linda Blair, who played the possessed Regan in The Exorcist. Her line was so long it was sectioned off from the other actors.

Wandering through the convention area, I was bombarded with monsters, demons, and makeup demonstrations from schools offering to teach you the craft of monster making. I repeat, THIS IS SERIOUS BUSINESS, PEOPLE.

There was some cosplay, but mostly it consisted of people showing off their original designs rather than wearing the masks of familiar horror characters.

The monster museum featured insanely detailed creatures such as a gorgeous velociraptor, a giant King Kong, the aliens from Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and an eerily accurate recreation of the trio of Roy Scheider, Richard Dreyfuss, and Robert Shaw from Jaws.

I wandered back to the convention area to marvel at the booths and then HOLY FUCKING SHIT — IT’S BIG BIRD.

Okay, okay, not actually Big Bird, but Caroll Spinney, who puppets and voices both Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch.

Now that was an autograph I wanted.

I approached with the wide-eyed wonder of a child meeting…well…Big Bird. Spinney was sweet and gentle, and happily jumped between the voices of his two Sesame Street Muppets.

The couple in front of me had brought Spinney and his wife flowers. Another couple brought their baby, as if to be blessed by the Pope.

The moment was so special that afterwards I had to sit down, overcome with childhood emotions.

Everything after that moment was icing on the cake. Really, truly, a wonderful convention and I cannot wait until it comes around again. It was a great day spent among some bizarre creatures, some very creative people, and the fans who love them. I left with a smile on my face and a skip in my step.

Sunny day, sweepin’ the clouds away.

Oh my. Punchdrunk, the theater company responsible for Sleep No...

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 16:55:52 -0400

Oh my.

Punchdrunk, the theater company responsible for Sleep No More in NYC, are releasing their follow up show The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable in London this summer.

Right now there is a secret trailer for the show found in a storefront somewhere on Kingsland High Road in London…which excites me to no end how creative of an idea that is.

Really, truly, hope there’s a way I can get to see this show. Come to Hollywood, Punchdrunk!

On Tuesday evening I dress in a suit and tie and make my way...

Thu, 11 Apr 2013 19:29:00 -0400

On Tuesday evening I dress in a suit and tie and make my way to a mansion in the Hollywood Hills.

The password, once you prove you can be let in, is “Open Sesame”. The wall disappears, and suddenly, you are inside The Magic Castle.

I walk through the bar, past the Close Up Gallery, past the Houdini Séance Room, past the Main Stage and past the Parlor Of Prestidigitation.

I head down into the basement. Into the Inner Circle, and I sit behind a desk. I pull out my deck of cards and spread them on the table in front of me.

Magic class is about to begin.

Class is taught by an old man, Dave Thorsen, a member of the Castle since it opened in 1963.

He is patient, explaining to the room that the most important thing we can do is practice. That a magician is only as good as their patter, and that a trick only works when the audience doesn’t realize that the way you’re moving is exact and deliberate.

“Practice every day,” he explains. “So that when you perform, you don’t need to look at your hands.”

When class lets out I linger inside of the club. Usually friends will join me – you need to know someone inside to get in yourself – and we will go into one of the theaters to see a magician perform.

The first few times I went to watch magicians perform I was dazzled by the tricks. I witnessed things that shouldn’t have existed: Mind readers and conjurers. Magic. Real magic.

But now, a few weeks into class, I’ve started to see different magicians perform the same tricks.

I have begun to realize that it isn’t the trick they’re performing that’s special, but rather, how good they are with their performance.

The man in the video above, Johnny Ace Palmer, is one of the best. I was lucky enough to see him perform in the Close Up Gallery, the most intimate theater in the Castle, where you sit directly across the table from the magicians.

The way he moved, the speed and skill at which he performed, were astounding. But I notice – as I watch the video – deliberate moves he makes to fool the audience.

He is incredibly talented, and that talent comes from years of practice.

I take these classes for a few reasons. Mostly, it was a chance for me to get into the Castle, a club that thrills me to no end. But it is also to start learning skills I feel important as I explore the world of haunted houses.

I am looking for the supernatural. For ways to trick the audience’s mind.

So watch the video above. It’s a promo video for the golf channel, but I think it’s a great peek into a very special club.

Open Sesame.

Video

Sat, 06 Apr 2013 04:40:01 -0400

Why yes I went to see “Jurassic Park 3D” tonight....

Sat, 06 Apr 2013 04:39:00 -0400

Why yes I went to see “Jurassic Park 3D” tonight. But of course!

Even though it’s my favorite movie, I was hesitant to spend the money to go see a 20 year old film in the theaters.

But then, after thinking about Ebert’s passing, it became crystal clear to me that I needed to go spend some time at the movies. A small tribute, in my own way.

I’m very happy I went.

Seeing “Jurassic Park” again was a treat. Seeing it in a theater full of people — mostly late 20’s - early 30’s…who were children when it came out — was pretty awesome.

We laughed at all the good parts. Cheered for the T. Rex. Cat-called Jeff Goldblum as he pranced around the movie with his shirt unbuttoned. Giggled whenever Samuel L. Jackson said “Hold on to your butts,” and enjoyed the hell out of it all.

What a fantastic movie.

The 3D was fun…there were parts that didn’t work, or where the effects was too noticeable…but overall it was really well done and not at all heavy-handed.

I saw it on IMAX for full effect, and to see dinosaurs in IMAX 3D was a treat.

Larger than life and just as amazing as seeing them for the first time.

And yes, it transported me back to being a little boy again. I remembered how much this movie scared me and how deep it stuck into my brain. How it hasn’t let go for 20 years.

Before the film started two guys walked up to the front of the theater. The bigger one yelled out, “This is my friend Whit. He was the little boy in the beginning of the film that Dr. Grant scares!”

We applauded, and Whit said that he’d be outside after the film if we had any questions.

It was clear he had brought a big crowd with him, because during his scene a lot of people cheered and clapped for him.

The guy in front of me made a comment to his girlfriend about all of this; “Geeze. It was 20 years ago. Get over it.”

And I leaned over my chair and whispered to him; “Then what are you doing here?”

Video

Fri, 05 Apr 2013 03:22:34 -0400

I struggle with film criticism. Some of my first published...

Fri, 05 Apr 2013 03:20:09 -0400

I struggle with film criticism.

Some of my first published pieces were film critiques, in my high school newspaper.

I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew if I liked a film or not, and somehow managed 500 words around that statement.

That seemed to work pretty well up through college, where I actually started to get (small) paychecks for my writing.

I wrote reviews for film, music and theater for my college newspaper. The easiest to write were the ones for things I didn’t like — or, honestly, didn’t understand — and could sneer safely from the sidelines as I watched someone else’s hard work.

My only guide on this journey was Roger Ebert, whose reviews were published in my town’s local newspaper, and whose reviews I always read.

I loved film criticism. I loved being a film critic. It allowed me a way to take my voice and my opinions — no matter what they were — and let other people read them. It felt like power, especially because I was too scared to make my own films or performances.

This all changed once I interned on a film called “Love N’ Dancing”. Is it a good film? No, not really. But it holds a very special place in my heart, and quite honestly changed my life for the better.

And even though we were making a silly little film that fizzled away quickly, I have never been able to look at movies the same way since.

Now that I’ve worked behind the scenes, I’ve seen what it takes to make a film — even a bad one — and found myself disgusted by film criticism. How could anyone who had no hand in the making of the film be qualified to judge it?

How easy is it to be the guy whose work is nothing more than watching a final product and giving their opinion on it? What kind of job is that?

And, admittedly, I still hold this position. Who among us is qualified to tell an artist why their art is no good? What hubris you must have to think your opinion matters this much.

But there was always Roger Ebert.

His writing is beautiful. He was always a fantastic writer, and only got better as he aged. When he lost his jaw to cancer his fingers took over, and his voice was strong and stunning.

Ebert gave me perspective on movies, introducing me to films I wouldn’t have seen if it wasn’t for him.

I didn’t always agree with his critique, but I always loved what he had to say.

Roger Ebert taught me writing. I savored his words. Learned his way around sentences. His way of ending a critique in such a way to feel like there was so much more to say, but that he had chosen to end before he wore out his welcome.

He is one of my favorite writers, and I am saddened by his death.

May he rest in peace.

Here are my two favorite Roger Ebert interviews. I’ve gone back to both of them dozens of times.

Daily Show

Esquire

So insanely cool to get a late night e-mail from Zombie Joe...

Tue, 19 Mar 2013 03:12:06 -0400

So insanely cool to get a late night e-mail from Zombie Joe telling me my Urban Death review got “Critique of the Week” on Bitter Lemons this week.

What a wonderful compliment to receive. What a fantastic show. I’ve seen it twice, now. I’m going to go back again…who wants to join me?!

http://www.urbandeath.com

Fri, 15 Mar 2013 17:03:12 -0400

http://www.urbandeath.com:

Thanks Zombie Joe for posting a link to my Urban Death review on your website!

Tonight I went to go see the Paley Center talk on NEW GIRL, one...

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 02:21:00 -0400

Tonight I went to go see the Paley Center talk on NEW GIRL, one of my favorite shows.

Before the cast and producers came out they screened an episode of the series that hasn’t aired yet.

It was incredibly cool to be in a giant auditorium with a thousand other fans of the show, laughing hysterically at the episode.

I am so used to watching the show alone, on my laptop. To be surrounded by people who liked the show as much as I did was an absolute treat.

I’m not sure if the episode was funnier because of the communal setting in which I watched it, but it was a great episode of an already great show.

So cool to have a shared experience like that.

Getting to take a picture with one of the lead actors was just the icing on the cake.

The show is still so fresh in my mind, having ended only an hour...

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 05:17:00 -0400

The show is still so fresh in my mind, having ended only an hour ago.

But I want to write about it now, while the feeling and emotion is raw.

Tonight I went to Zombie Joe’s Underground theater to see their signature show, Urban Death.

The show is an hour-long series of vignettes. There are words, emotions and incredible performances by fearless actors, but I would not call it a play.

Rather, it is something disturbing. Something that made me uncomfortable in a good way.

My friend Kassy, whom I went to the show with, described it as “Going into the dark corners of your brain and cleaning out the cobwebs.”

It was primal. It tapped into deep seeded fears and emotions within me.

Memories of childhood nightmares filled my mind during some scenes. In others, I was thrust into the present and complex (and scary) world of adulthood.

I was disturbed. I was aroused. I was confused. Frightened. Overjoyed. Stunned.

Simply stunned. Unable to express myself properly after the show, I mostly blubbered to Kassy, to the cast, to anyone who would listen, about how much emotion this show brought up inside of me.

Ever since working 2012’s Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios I have been on a haunted house kick.

I have visited five or six haunted houses in Los Angeles, Orange County, and Las Vegas since last year’s Halloween.

I have started putting together ideas for my own haunted house. Started reaching out to the haunt community, getting involved however I can.

I don’t fully know what it is that turns me on so much about haunted houses.

I am not a major horror movie fan. I have seen plenty of scary movies, but I don’t seek them out with a ferver and zest that some people do.

But there’s something about a haunted house, or a haunted play, that just appeals to me.

Perhaps it is the physicality of it all.

Theater is tangible. If an actor is onstage in a play they are present.

Flesh and blood, right in front of me.

A movie, no matter how much I love it, is still a screen projecting a well-constructed image.

Theater is raw. Theater is real life being played out in real time.

A haunted house is a theater piece. It is something tangible for me to experience and appreciate, when so much of my life is spent staring at screens.

The feeling of fear washes out all other thoughts in my mind. I don’t think about my bills needing to get paid, my job, my friends…nothing. I am focused on one thing: fear.

And a haunted house allows me to make myself scared in a safe environment. To purchase a ticket. To see actors perform. There’s a safety in allowing oneself permission to get scared in a place like this.

It’s therapeutic. It’s special.

Which is a long-winded way of me saying that “Urban Death” is special.

It’s disturbing. Fucked up. Intense. Too intimate to ever be comfortable.

It is an hour of a disturbing performance, played out by a team of actors who are insanely brave to express their art in this way.

Lights, sounds and direction by Zombie Joe, a man whose theater continues to rock my world.

I know I need to see it again, and I know I need more time to wrap my brain around what I saw tonight. But I’m glad I wrote now, before closing my eyes for bed, knowing this show will haunt my dreams, sticking with me for a long time.