Making Dr. Who’s Monsters Look Sophisticated
by Tony Fonseca
05/02/2006
Silver, Alain, and James Ursini. Roger Corman: Metaphysics on a Shoestring. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press, 2006. 323 p.
In Roger Corman’s autobiography, How I Made a Hundred Movies in Hollywood and Never Lost a Dime (1990), he brags that he was the youngest director given retrospectives at two film archives. In Roger Corman: Metaphysics on a Shoestring, Alain Silver and James Ursini continue to cultivate this cult of personality, postulating that Corman may be one of the most influential filmmakers of all time. They point out that he has directed and produced more than 200 films, and has helped jumpstart the directorial careers of award winners Francis Ford Coppola, Jonathan Demme, and even to some extent, Ron Howard. This Corman filmography is much more than a tribute book, however. Silver and Ursini produce a text filled with solid research, insightful film criticism and interpretation, and revealing interview answers. All of this adds up to give the reader a well-rounded picture of this outsider director. They do such a solid job, in fact, that once one has perused the contents of Metaphysics on a Shoestring, he or she will get beyond the popular misconception that Corman was nothing more than a hack—a low-budget director who created some of the most laughable monsters to ever (dis)grace Hollywood films.
The text begins with general biographical information, as Silver and Ursini trace Corman’s humble beginnings in post World War II Hollywood. The authors take as their task the chronological presentation of Corman’s films, beginning with his early, somewhat feminist westerns, working toward a designed end: to account for Corman’s mythic status as the godfather of independent film. To accomplish this, they discuss each film in detail, beginning with a thematic discussion of the plot line. By doing this, rather than simply giving an objective plot summary, the authors raise many interesting questions about the possible intentions of Corman as writer or director. One excellent example of this has to do with Corman’s female characters. Rather than settle for the usual concentration of the exploitative violence (Corman’s films are virtually always about violence−that is almost a given) against women seen in some of the films, Silver and Ursini just as often draw attention to the strong female characters that populate not only the westerns, but the gangster/mob flicks and horror movies as well. Granted, no discussion of Corman would be complete without ridiculous images and humorous descriptions of Corman’s paper maché giant crabs and rubber giant claws on wires, and these signature techniques get their fair share of space.
One of my personal favorite sections of the book had to do with Corman’s various adaptations of Edgar Allan Poe tales, such as The Pit and the Pendulum, Tales of Terror, The Raven, The Masque of the Red Death, and The Fall of the House of Usher. Very few directors would have dealt with these tales with the proper amount of melodrama and demented humor as did Corman, who also gave us The Little Shop of Horrors, which has achieved almost mythic status as a film. Readers will also enjoy the stills of some of the their favorite actors who at one time or another worked with Corman: Vincent Price, William Shatner, Beverly Garland, Russell Johnson, Ray Milland, Susan Cabot, Peter Lorre, Boris Karloff, Mike Connors, Charles Bronson−the list is almost infinite. Each entry ends with an excerpt from an interview with Corman, wherein he discusses the film briefly. Here, readers get insight into the director’s mind: how he approached the financial problems he faced on the set, how he helped to adapt scripts based on Poe, Lovecraft, and Charles Beaumont, among others. There are even funny stories about the problems of using low-budget special effects—and getting unintended comic effects.
It would be more than generous to view Corman as one of the all-time great directors. In fact, one of the ironies of his career that this book highlights unintentionally is that he had more to do with quality, award winning films as a bit actor than he did as a producer or director. Nonetheless, one cannot dismiss the staying power of some of his better cult classics. Corman is, after all, the brains behind the aforementioned Little Shop of Horrors, The Premature Burial, The Tower of London, The Man With the X-Ray Eyes (my personal favorite), and Frankenstein Unbound. In addition, as producer he helped bring unforgettable flicks to the screen—Dementia 13, Grand Theft Auto, and Death Race 2000, to name a few.
Roger Corman: Metaphysics on a Shoestring is more than fun reading and a trip down memory lane. Along with Corman’s biography and Ed Naha’s The Films of Roger Corman: Brilliance on a Budget (1981), it completes the puzzle that gives film buffs the full picture of the man who made it possible for Robert Townsend, The Hughes Brothers, and the Myrick and Sanchez Blair Witch team to realize their celluloid dreams.