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Plaza Theater: “Happy Horrordays”

Some people associate this time of year with merriment, gift receiving, and family togetherness. And others… with monsters, grave robbing, and human dismemberment.

 

I used to be a proud, Hallmark Card-carrying member of the first category. But then one day, I woke up a 31-year old unmarried woman and suddenly “Here, have some eggnog,” was replaced by “You should really consider getting your eggs frozen” -- forget the fact that I don’t even know how to take care of a pet rock.

 

This Hannukristmas, I crossed over. And, on the other side, the December 27 “Silver Scream Spook Show” was waiting with open arms, or rather, arm -- the one still dangling loosely from its left socket. In short, this Plaza Theater sensation is the ultimate gala, or goola, for those who believe the all-knowing man in the fancy red suit is a very specific anagram of Santa -- i.e. S-A-T-A-N. 

 

“Silver Scream Spook Show” pays homage to the old, scaretastic variety shows of the 1930s to 1960s, when names such as Francisco and Phillip Morris (a.k.a. the original Dr. Evil) were as famous as the stars of “Twilight” are today. The Midnight “Spook Show” was the original “preview” to a motion picture; only it was promotion through enhancement and entertainment, NOT advertisement. It was circus theater: by day, the actors drove around in cars blindfolded behind the steering wheel, with the place and time of their shows painted on the sides of their automobiles. And by night, they would don the costumes of sorcerers and psychos and get the adrenalin of the crowd pumping with hilariously horrifying acts of floating heads, walking corpses, and dancing cabaret girls -- all the while leaving sprays of fake blood splattered on the projection screen behind them.

 

When I walked into the Plaza Theater for the 10 pm “Silver Scream Spook Show,” a cordial cadaver tore my ticket and ushered me into the aisle. Staring up at the 40-foot tall ceilings of the theater, I nearly knocked a bag of popcorn out of the hands of a black-and-white-face-painted person in a full-bodied skeleton suit. It was official: This was not your momma’s post-Christmas gathering. Yet, as the lights started to dim, I swore I saw the green, withered stem of mistletoe hanging in the backstage doorway -- minus the mistle!

 

What followed was a 30-minute vaudevillian (or “vaudekillian”) sketch complete with “ghoulish” burlesque dancers in tasseled flapper dresses and spider web panty hose, musical numbers to die for, commercial breaks, black outs, head-shrinking witch doctors, and of course -- the eternal hosts of the show: the green-faced zombies Professor Morte and his assistant Wretch.

The central theme of the night’s drama: After Frankenstein Monster severs all of his body parts in a gruesome car accident, Professor Morte and Wretch go on a grave-digging, Land of the Undead visiting mission to find all the necessary limbs to put “Frankie” back together. Along the way, they exhume Joey Ramone’s legs, hack off James Brown’s feet, accept the voluntary donation of Randy Rose’s hands, and, in my favorite scene: Wretch -- in hilarious “Raider of the Lost Ark” like fashion -- tries to steal Elvis’s sacred hip bone by replacing it with a human skull, thus tripping a secret wire and setting into motion a giant, rolling jelly doughnut. (Cue: “Indiana Jones” theme song) 

In the end, Morte and Wretch duct tape all the parts together, and, with the help of a foot-stomping audience singing along to “We Will, We Will, SHOCK you!” Frankenstein is reborn.

 

Mind you, “Silver Scream Spook Show” is a double bill. Just like the variety acts of yore, the live show is followed by a “silver scream” (Silver Screen) horror movie in its original 35 mm format. On this particular night, the “Ghostess with the Mostess” presented a rare comedic treat with the 1969 cult classic “Mad Monster Party.” In Professor Morte’s own words: “I usually say ‘don’t laugh at the movie.’ In fact, I strangled someone the other night for laughing during King Kong. But this time, I want you to laugh.”

 

And really, you’d have to be stone cold dead NOT to crack up at this hysterical creation. “Mad Monster Party” is done in “Animagic,” a stop motion animation process by which inert figures are photographed in still shots and repositioned after each take. (Think: Tim Burton) The screenplay was co-written by Mad Magazine creator Harvey Kurtzman, so a dialogue full of dark humor, racy puns, and inside jokes is par for the course. Throw in the voice and puppet likeness of Boris Karloff as Baron Von Frankenstein, and Phyllis Diller as “the Monster’s mate” -- and you’ve got the makings of a sidesplitting cinematic sensation. 

The plot alone is the stuff of genius: Professor Frankenstein invites all the major paranormal players to a party at his castle on the Caribbean Isle of Evil. There, he will reveal his newfound formula for the secret of destruction, AND bequeath his dynasty of doom to his unknowing, utterly human, clumsy, klutzy, sneezey, wheezy allergenic nephew Felix Flanken.

The hilarity that ensues as the soulless, bloodthirsty guests of Dracula, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the creature from the Black Lagoon, Werewolf, Invisible Man, Hunchback of Notre Dame, Mummy, Yetch, and the self-serving fembot Francesca ALL plot to destroy the achingly scrupulous Felix -- is that much more gratifying in the crackly 35 mm green screen and raw, lowbrow humor of 60’s comedy.

 

Here are a few of my favorite lines from the film:

Phyllis Diller to Fang: “Last time you had a roving eye, I kept it in a jar for a week.”

Dr. Frankenstein: “I hope ‘IT’ doesn’t come. ‘IT’ was a crushing bore at our last party. He walked around crushing boars, wild boars in his hands.”

Phyllis Diller to Mummy: “I wonder how he got his invitation. He has an unlisted tomb.” Count Dracula to Francesca: “You know Francesca. You have always been my type… O negative isn’t it?”

Yetch to Francesca: “It’s me, your Don Yuan.” Francesca: “I don juan to look at you.” 

Dr. Frankenstein to the Invisible Man: “You’re looking well… I think.”

 

Needless to say, after two hours of gruesome gaffs, wicked word play, and spooky spoonerisms, I was completely cured of my Holiday humbug.

 

Check out the “Silver Scream Spook Show” on the last Saturday of every month.

The Plaza Theater. 1049 Ponce De Leon Avenue. 1 pm (kids), 10 pm (adults)