I met Paul Scrabo by accident. A thousand years ago, I was the temporary master for Debbie Rochon’s website. She had just shot an episode of an online stream and cable-access show called “The Front Row”, hosted by a charismatic man named Rich Scrivani. “The Front Row” was an interview show that focused on low-budget and indie filmmakers and personalities. Past guests included Kevin McCarthy (“Invasion of the Body Snatchers”) and Kevin J. Lindenmuth (the “Alien Agenda” series). As I was adding a link to the official “Front Row” site from Debbie’s, I saw a tiny little hyperlink at the bottom of “The Front Row” page that had been specifically for Debbie’s attention. Clicking it, I discovered Paul Scrabo. An NBC editor, Scrabo was the producer of the series in his spare time and he had built a secret page of pictures of himself, Rich and Debbie, taken on the set of the show – a gift to her as thanks for taking time out to appear on his humble web show. He had also included his email address at the very bottom of the page. I couldn’t resist writing to him. To my surprise, not only did Paul write back, but did not take me to task for invading the privacy of the page. He was actually grateful that I had taken the time to add the link – I had also given the show a small write up on my personal site, www.hollywoodisburning.com. For the next year, or so, I reviewed the sporadic “Front Row” episodes, exchanged pleasantries with Paul and soon a friendship was built. He became a big supporter of my as-yet unfinished film, “The Resurrection Game”, and was the first one to ever review the woeful workprint. Before long, he informed me that he was starting his own production, with Debbie as the star – a loveletter to b-movies called “Dr. Horror’s House of Idiots”. He was writing the script with Brinke Stevens – one of the original Scream Queens – intending it to be a send-up of not only modern b-movies, but classic AIP anthology movies like “The Vault of Horror”, as well as a parody of “erotic” movies that seem to litter the shelves. Thus, the word “erotic” was inserted into the title. The plot of “Dr. Horror’s” involved Frank, a former horror screenwriter (Michael R. Thomas), who is somehow talked into posing as a famous sex-therapist by the real doctor’s gardener (played by little-to-no-talent actor and Ed Wood co-conspirator, Conrad Brooks). When three patients show up, Frank launches into his best Sigmund Freud accent and proceeds to diagnose their sexual dilemmas the only way he can – by placing their problems into a horror context, thereby allowing for a zombie story, a wolfman story and a story involving undersexed female aliens. With room in between for additional parodies. Thus allowing for the maximum number of cameos possible in a low-budget movie. It was a family affair. As Paul labored over the script, writing in scenes as they occurred to him, Georgeann would create the costumes and build the sets. He called in favors from friends he’d made over the years. Originally, the role of “Frank” had been written for horror-host Zacherly “The Cool Ghoul”. The aging actor declined, but agreed to make a cameo in the film – in a musical number of all things! Michael R. Thomas is best known for his small roles in a variety of Seduction Cinema movies – most notably “Smirnoff the Wizard” in “Lord of the G-Strings”. He’s a gifted make-up artist, working primarily on “Saturday Night Live”, and provided the service for the film. Brinke has a small and hilarious cameo in the film, and also co-wrote the final episode of the story. The bulk of “Dr. Horror’s” was shot during the week of September 11, 2001 – an irony that was lost on no one. While the world was collapsing around them, Debbie, Conrad Brooks, Trent Haaga, Zacherly, Nathan Sears and Paul were concentrating on keeping their spirits up to film a goofy comedy. As Paul would finish segments, he’d send me tapes in the mail, allowing me the opportunity to watch the film grow. When editing opportunities were slow in coming, I’d get snippets of scripts, requests for opinions on the abilities of this or that actress. Early on, I’d recommended Jasi Cotton Lanier (“Were-Grrl”) for her stunt abilities. Paul hired her and her friend Marina Morgan to play a pair of goofy neighbor girls that people mistake for lesbians. They also pop up in the alien sequence. But it was to my complete astonishment that Paul approached me to be in the movie. I knew he wanted to put Amy in a role – so supportive he was of her performance in “The Resurrection Game” – and he was interested in having our co-producer/co-star Bill Homan appear in the film, but for some reason, he wanted me too. I have a role – actually multiple roles – in “The Resurrection Game” as well (the director’s cameo obligation), but you can hardly call what I do in the film “acting”. I’d done some – okay, we’ll call it acting for the sake of argument – on stage in high school and college, but again, nothing of award-winning quality. But Paul saw something of value in my performance – or perhaps, just wanted to see me sweat. Get the rest of the story in part two of THE GEEKS SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH: ON THE SET OF “DR. HORROR’S EROTIC HOUSE OF IDIOTS”»>
title: “The Geeks Shall Inherit The Earth Film Threat” ShowToc: true date: “2024-04-05” author: “Tami Elam”
For ten years, it was the reigning show in Pittsburgh, held annually at the Monroeville Expomart (just a short and treacherous, traffic-laden jaunt away from the legendary Monroeville Mall, home to “Dawn of the Dead” and an annual “Dawn of the Dead” mall tour). Spawned on the heels of John Russo’s Zombie Jamboree, Mike and Renee George (herefore referred to as “The Promoters”) set out to make history by creating an event that would be welcomed by film and comic book fans alike. Remember the materials used to pave the way to hell? Well, greed is often the first traveler on that newly-paved road. Before we started setting up at the Comicon, Amy Lynn Best and I had been ardent supporters of the show. Having never been to the similarly-named San Diego event, it was always the biggest show we attended, and setting up, we developed relationships and friendships that have endured throughout our professional careers. To our eyes, it was an impeccably-run event, with attentive staff and some amazing guests. This year’s Guest of Honor was none other than George Romero, one of my own personal heroes, so I was really looking forward to going and meeting him. On top of that, we had planned to blow things out on our part, reserving a block of tables for ourselves and our friends – including the fine folks behind Secret Scroll Digest, Hero Headquarters (who created the wonderful Project: Valkyrie), Spicy Sister Lilith Stabs and “The Goddess of Independent Cinema”, Debbie Rochon. Other layers of icing included the world premiere of our endless post production-hell-sentenced “The Resurrection Game”, and – the big event for us – our five year wedding anniversary! Expectations were high, anticipation was higher. Pity about the disappointment. This year marked the Pittsburgh Comicon’s lowest attendance. Which came as no surprise, really, as I saw very little in the way of promotion. In past years, the Pittsburgh papers had ads running for at least a month prior, and there were always stacks of fliers in every comic book and record store within a ten mile radius. Maybe it was hidden, I don’t know. For weeks prior, Amy and I blabbed about the show on countless message boards and websites, and on Friday morning, we did a stint on one of the area’s biggest radio shows. We didn’t expect a parade from the promoters, but a thank you would have been nice. They were busy, you understand (not too busy to demand extra money from us for various sundries, however). As expected, Friday’s big draw was George Romero, and the fans lined up to pay hometown homage to the man behind the real “Dawn Of The Dead”, who was also promoting, with his son Cameron and his crew, his upcoming rock horror film, The Diamond Dead. Though George looked thoroughly exhausted, he greeted each and every fan with a big smile and a hearty handshake. For three hours, George signed and schmoozed with his public—all the while, the promoters personally hovered around him, making sure that each and every person paid for George’s autograph. Afterward, they handed him a huge stack of “Dawn Of The Dead” to sign. “For the staff,” it was explained. After overhearing this personally, I walked over to one of the volunteers I knew and mentioned this. “Ain’t that great?” I asked. He answered my question with a scoff. “We won’t see any of those. Those are headed for Ebay.” I knew that would have been his answer. I’d heard similar complaints from other volunteers over the past four years. But what made this year different was that it wasn’t just the volunteers making noise about the show and the way it has degraded since its less-than-humble beginnings. There were fewer vendors present this year—a fact made all too clear by my ability to weave my way through the maze of dealers’ tables without once having to turn sideways and crab-walk the way I had at past shows. There were also expected faces that were suspiciously absent. For the first time in recent memory, for instance, Jim Balent and Holly Golightly, the creative team behind the Wicca-and-naked-lady-friendly indie comic “Tarot”, were not attending the Pittsburgh Comicon. Neither was Terry Moore, the creator of “Strangers in Paradise”. While this is hardly equal to the concept of a second gunman on the grassy knoll, it was still a curious thing. It only goes downhill from here in part two of THE GEEKS SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH: DOING HARD TIME AT THE PITTSBURGH COMICON»>
