Tribute 2017

The year 2017 was a dreadful one for fans of science fiction, horror, and film and television. An inordinate number of icons passed away.

This was the year we lost the leading actor of four classic science fiction TV series: Richard Hatch of Battlestar Galactica (1978-1979), Martin Landau of Space:1999 (1975-1977), Jared Martin of The Fantastic Journey (1977), and Heather Menzies of Logan's Run (1977).

2017 was the year we lost two of the greatest horror film directors the world has ever seen: George A. Romero, and Tobe Hooper.

This was also the year we lost two of my greatest childhood heroes, Adam West, who played Batman, and Roger Moore, who played James Bond, 007, longer than any other actor in movie history.

This was the year we lost teen heart-throb David Cassidy, and the xenomorph's first cinematic victim, John Hurt, as well as his cast-mate, Harry Dean Stanton.

Below is a gallery of those who passed away in the last twelve months. 

As always, if I have forgotten anyone, it was an oversight, and not intentional. Please feel free to post your memories of those featured in the gallery, in the comments section.

Richard Anderson

Mike Connors

David Cassidy

Jonathan Demme

Roy Dotrice

Miguel Ferrer

Dominic Frontiere

Robert Guillaume

Richard Hatch

Tobe Hooper

John Hurt

Barbara Hale

John Heard

Glenn Headley

Martin Landau

Jerry Lewis

Jared Martin

Heather Menzies

Mary Tyler Moore

Roger Moore

Dina Merrill

Jim Nabors

Bill Paxton

George A. Romero

Don Rickles

Della Reese

Harry Dean Stanton

Sam Shepard

Jay Thomas

Adam West

Tribute: Harry Dean Stanton (1926-2017)

Today, America has lost one of its greatest actors: Harry Dean Stanton (1926-2017).  

The star of such films as Paris, Texas (1984), Repo Man (1984), and the TV series Big Love (2006-2011), is beloved, in particular, by sci-fi/horror fans for his turn as Brett in Ridley Scott's Alien (1979).

Stanton had a long and distinguished career; one stretching back to the mid-1950's.  

In terms of genre work, he was a frequent guest star on TV programs, and is remembered for roles in Inner Sanctum (1954), Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1960), The Wild, Wild West (1967), and Fairie Tale Theatre (1987).

Mr. Stanton's career in movies was even bigger. 

In addition to playing Brett in Alien, he starred as Brain in John Carpenter's Escape from New York (1981), and had roles in several David Lynch films, including Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992), and Inland Empire (2006). He also had supporting roles in Red Dawn (1984), and The Green Mile (1999).

Outside the genre, Stanton is remembered for Paris, Texas, a role in Cool Hand Luke (1967), and many other great films.  All these films and TV programs are a reminder of Stanton's versatility, and effectiveness as an actor.  He always seemed absolutely "real," whether in a futuristic setting, an absurdist one, or in a grounded drama.

Mr. Stanton will be missed, but he leaves behind a catalog of work that is astounding in its breadth and depth.

Tribute 2017: Richard Anderson (1926 - 2017)

A beloved figure in science fiction film and television has passed away. 

The press is now reporting the death of Richard Anderson, a man beloved by my Generation (X) for his performances as Oscar Goldman -- the kindly head of the O.S.I. -- on The Six Million Dollar Man (1973-1978), and The Bionic Woman (1976-1978).  

At the height of distrust of government in America, because of the Watergate Scandal, Anderson's Oscar Goldman painted a picture of incorruptibility, decency, and competence.

Richard Anderson was heralded in the seventies as the first actor to play the same role in two series running at the same time. Memorably, Oscar Goldman was so ubiquitous a presence on seventies TV that Anderson's character was released as a Kenner action figure -- with exploding briefcase! -- in the Kenner Six Million Dollar Man toy line.

Yet Richard Anderson was much more than Oscar Goldman. He appeared in the beloved science fiction movie that introduced the world to Robby the Robot: Forbidden Planet (1956).  Opposite Leslie Nielsen and Warren Stevens, his scenes mostly saw him working on the bridge of the cruiser C-57D.

Richard Anderson also starred as the villain, an immortal man craving more life, in the second Kolchak TV movie of the early 1970's, 1973's The Night Strangler.

Throughout his long and impressive acting career, Mr. Anderson appeared on just about every important genre series of the '60s and '80s, from Mission: Impossible and The Man from U.N.C.L.E. to Knight Rider and Airwolf.

Mr. Anderson contributed enormously to cult-film and television. His presence will be greatly missed. My deepest condolences go out to his family and loved ones at this time.

Tribute: Tobe Hooper (1943-2017)

I am deeply saddened this morning to report the death of horror film director, and icon, Tobe Hooper (1943 - 2017).

For me, Hooper is indisputably one of the five most significant auteurs of modern horror cinema (1970's to present)  alongside the likes of Wes Craven, John Carpenter, George Romero, and David Cronenberg.  

Now, Craven, Romero, and Hooper have all left this mortal coil.

But Tobe Hooper, in particular, has always broken my heart, because -- even up until weeks before his death -- the director was never given the credit he deserved by either the industry or some film writers, and fans. 

The "Steven Spielberg directed Poltergeist [1982])" meme always held back his reputation, I feel, unfairly. 

Some of the evidence to support the assertion that Hooper didn't direct Poltergeist are the result of misinterpretation of photos, or the mistaken belief that Hooper never directed a movie as strong as the 1982 horror film, so he couldn't have been responsible for it.

Yet Hooper also directed The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1973), Salem's Lot (1978), The Funhouse (1981), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part II (1986) and the cult-hit Lifeforce (1985).  A case can be made for the brilliance of any or all those pictures.

A tribute to a deceased artist is likely not the best or most appropriate place to re-litigate an old, ugly matter, however.

Rather, it is a place to appreciate the artistry of a maestro. And that is exactly what I feel Hooper was: a master.  

His horror films always felt dangerous; always felt edgy, and Hooper's understanding of film grammar was second to none. Unappreciated by the industry, and by film writers in his life, I hope these people will seriously, upon his passing, make an effort to re-evaluate his work, and consider Hooper's place in film and horror history.

I will end this tribute with a few short words that capture perfectly the nature of Hooper's underappreciated cinematic genius. 

These words are from L.M Kit Carson (Film Comment: "Saw Thru," July/August 1986, pages 9-12).

"Hooper was a new deal - simply this; no deal. Hooper was a scare-director who was methodically unsafe, who the audience (You) finally just couldn't trust...He'd go too far, then go farther...and go farther again, and kick it again...then get in an extra kick, then it's over...then one more kick...No deal, friend."

Or as I like to say, just watch the final act of Poltergeist. No deal, friend.

So here's to the great Tobe Hooper, the "no deal" horror director whose films terrified and inspired a generation of movie-goers.

Tribute: Martin Landau (1928 - 2017)

This has been a dreadful day.  

I just learned of the passing, at age 89, of Martin Landau (1928 - 2017), an actor who was a staple of popular television in the 1960's, the star of Space:1999 in the '70s, and an acclaimed, award-winning talent in the '90s and beyond.

I grew up watching (and admiring) Martin Landau on Space:1999, and his performances as Commander John Koenig of Moonbase Alpha are etched permanently in my memory.

When I think of my earliest childhood heroes, in act, I think specifically of William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy, Roddy McDowall in the Planet of the Apes films, and, Martin Landau's Koenig. 

Indeed, to this day, Commander Koenig is still one of my most important heroes and role models.

I had the pleasure of interviewing Martin Landau on the phone once, about Space: 1999 (for a Cinescape article celebrating the year 1999), and I still remember how incredible it was to listen to his voice, and experience his intelligence. Even twenty-some years after the end of the series, he was passionate and engaged about it.

What set apart Landau's character, Koenig, perhaps, from other space heroes of the tube, was the sense that the character was a man of science and reason, and not just a typical "adventurer" in space. Landau's human approach to the character resonated with me as a child, and still does, forty years later. Koenig was strong but fallible, decisive and accountable. He was sometimes desperate, and yet he clung to hope, and to his moral barometer. 

Of course, John Koenig is only a tiny piece of Landau's impressive career.  

Martin Landau appeared as a guest on literally every 1960's American prime time series you can think of.  

He was on Gunsmoke, The Untouchables, The Wild, Wild West, The Rifleman, I Spy, and more. Many fans first encountered him as Rollin Hand, the master of disguise on Mission: Impossible. He played that role opposite his then-wife, Barbara Bain, for three seasons (1966-1969).

Landau also gave memorable performances on The Twilight Zone (1959-1964) in "Mr. Denton on Doomsday," and "The Jeopardy Room," and on The Outer Limits (1963-1964) in "The Man Who Was Never Born," and "The Bellero Shield."

After years which saw him star in efforts such as Meteor (1979), Landau achieved more acclaim for dramatic roles in films such as Tucker: A Man and His Dream (1987), and Woody Allen's Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989).  

He won an Academy Award for his (loving) portrayal of Bela Lugosi in Tim Burton's masterpiece, Ed Wood (1994).

Landau's career stretches back to films such as Alfred Hitchcock's North by Northwest (1959) and includes films of great historical import (Cleopatra [1963], for instance).  

But Martin Landau will always be Commander John Koenig to me; a man of courage and decency fighting for the survival of his people on Moonbase Alpha, and among the stars.

That universe seems so much dimmer without his presence, tonight.

Tribute: George A. Romero (1940 - 2017)

One of America's greatest horror filmmakers is gone. 

The press is now reporting the death of George A. Romero, the director of Night of the Living Dead (1968) and its many sequels. He was 77 years old.

George A. Romero's films were notorious to mainstream audiences, in large part, for their unflinching gore and violence.  

They were beloved by horror aficionados, however, for their insightful social commentary and understanding of the human condition.  George Romero's films were always more about people than they were about ghouls.

Beyond the Dead series -- Night of the Living Dead (1968), Dawn of the Dead (1978), Day of the Dead (1985), Land of the Dead (2005), Diary of the Dead (2007), and Survival of the Dead (2009) -- Romero's best genre films succeeded in de-romanticizing horror monsters and horror myths.

In some senses, Romero removed the Gothic touches of the genre, and stripped horror stories to their "realistic" bones. 

The Crazies (1973) -- remade in 2010 -- was about zombies created by a biological agent called Trixie. There was nothing supernatural about the monster, in this case.

Likewise, Romero's Hungry Wives (1972) was ostensibly about witches. But witchcraft was viewed, in the film as just another passing fad for a bored suburban house-wife to become enamored with, not as a supernatural force. As one character in the film noted, "Voodoo only works because you believe it works. Your mind does the work."  

Even Romero's vampire film, Martin (1977) was stripped of the romantic touches we commonly associate with that monster. The vampire there was not a mythological creature, just a kid with, in the words of Romero (from The Michigan Daily), "hang-ups." 

In my essay in Cult Cinema (Arrow Books; 2016) -- "No More Mysterioso: Horror's Great Sociologist," -- I also wrote about Romero as a clever observer of the social order, and discussed his films as examples of how mankind doesn't change, even in the face of apparent social disorder.   

As the director would often note: "What is it going to take for us to change?"  His Dead movies are all about the fact that the world can fall into a zombie-apocalypse, but that man will be the same self-destructive, selfish creature he has always been.

With all the discussion of late about "post-horror" films, Mr. Romero's passing reminds us of why so many scholars, fans, and audiences love horror now, and see no need or imperative to move beyond it. 

At its best -- in the hands of artists like Romero -- horror movies terrify us, and more than that, illuminate some facet of our existence on this mortal coil. 

Romero's "monster" films often uncovered the dirty truth  that man himself could be the greatest monster of them all.  Romero showed us that horror was the perfect mirror by which to examine who we are.

We lost Wes Craven, the horror film psychologist, in 2015, and it is too soon to face the loss of horror's sociologist. 

Alas, that loss is upon us.

George Romero entertained us, inspired us, and terrified us for nearly fifty years. He made us think, and he showed a generation of horror filmmakers that horror could be smart, not simply gory.

This loss is immeasurable.

Tribute: Adam West (1928-2017)

A few short weeks ago, we lost Roger Moore -- the 007, James Bond, for Generation X (my generation). 

Yesterday, the world lost another bright light: Adam West (1928-2017), the Batman for Generation X.  

The loss is a tremendous one.

I grew up, throughout the seventies, watching Adam West's Batman (1966-1968) in reruns. As strange is it may sound, that series -- and West's work in it -- proved one of the foundational texts of my young life, along with Star Trek, Star Wars, Space:1999 and the Bond films.

Although we know Batman today as "The Dark Knight," Adam West, significantly, termed his version of the character "The Bright Knight." 

It's a telling moniker. 

West's incarnation of the character inhabited a comic book world of color and action, but not, notably, of angst or gloom. He had the same tragic beginning (the death of parents) we associate with his character, but West's Batman turned towards light, not towards darkness.

As a child, I appreciate the heroism and dependability of West's Caped Crusader. He was a rock solid hero, and the defender of justice. He was a hero in every sense of the world...and he had all the best gadgets.

As an adult, I saw how West was able to play Batman seriously, and yet was "in the know" about the the tongue-in-cheek nature of these particular adventures. His Batman worked on two levels simultaneously; for children and their parents. He was both an action hero, and a comedian. His performances were so impressive because they always allowed for both interpretations simultaneously, depending on the age of the viewer.

Adam West went on to portray Batman in voice-work throughout the decades, most notably in the many Filmation Batman series of the 1970's. 

As a result of his association with the beloved character, West forever became associated with superheroes in general. He guest starred on an episode of Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman in the 1990's, and was a super-villain, Breathtaker, in several episodes of Black Scorpion (2001).

Mr. West had a wonderful sense of humor about himself and his career. He did voice-over work for The Simpsons, Futurama, Scooby Doo, and Family Guy, and hosted a Mystery Science Theater 3000 (1988-1999) marathon, even when one of his less-than-stellar movies, Zombie Nightmare (1986) was riffed.

Beyond superheroes, Mr. West had other high-points in his career involving the science fiction genre. He starred in Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964), for example, and also in one of my favorite episodes of The Outer Limits: "The Invisible Enemy."

It is so difficult to lose an icon like Adam West.  His Batman was a father-figure, in a very real sense, and someone who seemed like he would always be there for us.  

Even in this time of loss, we can remember that the performances of Adam West will continue to be there for our generation, and for generations yet to come.