All posts by Manic Exorcism

There is a method to my madness. I've just not figured out what it is yet.

The Powerful Art of He-Man and the Masters of the Universe!

It is without a doubt He-Man dominated the toy market of yesteryear. Making his way to our local toy shelves he took his rightful place as the reigning king of figurines and promptly slaughtered the competition. Not even the galactic juggernaut toy line of Star Wars could withstand the power of Grayskull and Eternia’s mighty champions.

He-Man and Masters of the Universe did not have a movie’s storyline to follow and upon initial creation-stages, the classic cartoon wasn’t even a thought at the time. What He-Man did have was his immense look and all the charm each figure brought with them.

That and the breathtaking artwork eruptoing across each package!

These were toys, true, but these were also thrilling works of art. A thing unseen back in the day and it set MOTU apart from its competitors. There was time and passion put into these. Muscles, savagery, feminine beauty (in Teela’s case), and undeniable evil as seen in Skeletor’s demonic visage. The divide between good and evil was clearly revealed in each figure and it didn’t take rocket science to figure out who was who.

Likewise, each figure was a puzzle piece and when all brought together uncovered a fantastical picture of a far-off universe where the never-ending conflict between good and evil raged imperially on the distant planet of Eternia.

The artwork on the display packaging helped fill in the world where swords and sorcery akin to the barbarian world of Conan met technical superiority – such as monstrous tanks and hovering battle crafts – of sci-fi grandeur! It was a brilliant fusion of genres. And power, pure and unstoppable power.

I daresay anyone of us gazing upon Castle Gray Skull was immediately pulled into the vortex of its wondrous world of secrets and sorcery. What exactly was Gray Skull? None of us had a clue. Truth was we weren’t sure if it was meant for good or evil. There’s always been a grim neutrality about the castle and that makes it more wondrous. Plus it looked METAL as all Hell and that made us want it so much more!

First, you’d see the toy but then there’s that Frazetta-inspired artwork on each packaging and it just demanded your attention. It filled the imagination. They didn’t have to put that much detail into packaging, you know, the thing we were going to tear into and throw in the trash. Looking back I now wish I had all the cards and boxes to proudly display and gloat over. Back then we didn’t know better.

Attitude Perspective

Of course, I have to mention the cartoon for a moment.

Originally it wasn’t even in the mind of the creative team behind the toy line. But it was believed that something had to help kids piece together Eternia and the battles for Castle Grayskull. So a daily cartoon was made up out of thin air and pitched. Again, MOTU was an instant hit among kids!

The show was appropriately campy. I guess the laughs and silliness was needed for us stupid kids. For example, Skeletor is a treacherous villain but he’s not too scary, or else kids would’ve had nightmares. And no parent wants to put up with that shit. So he was a bad guy but also kinda a dope. But hey, he’s a lovable dope.

That sort of attitude wasn’t expressed on the package art – or the original comics for that matter. Originally the Masters of the Universe was much more mature in tone and a lot darker. Eternia was expressed as someplace bordering on Hell. A place of dark wonder and sensational battles.

However, rather than being in conflict with each other that darker tone happily balances out the show’s campiness. The two work in harmony. A yin-yang coequality that resonates in fans to this very day. Some look back at the camp and are filled with nostalgic glee. Others look at the inspired art and feel a thrill for dark sorcery and battles in Eternia. The toys fit perfectly into both interpretations thus creating a nice harmony for fans. And both are masterpieces when it comes to art.

Masterful!

He-Man and Masters of the Universe could adorn the walls of any prestigious gallery around the world or be slapped on the cover of heavy metal albums! I mean this was stuff you expected to see on DIO tapes. This was great stuff. It didn’t look sloppy or rushed. There was power displayed in each and every one.

We were too young and innocent to fully grasp what a phenomenon this all was. I know I took it for granted and just came to expect to always have He-Man in my future. And, crazy enough, here I am in my 40’s and I just bought a Viking He-Man and Skeletor, so I guess, in a way, he has been.

Did any of us know we were living through pop-culture history? Of course not. I don’t know if that term even existed back then. We were too busy playing in our living rooms or outside in sandboxes, living and reliving new and bigger adventures (thanks to our toys). We couldn’t have realized people would later covetously look back on our childhoods longing for the magic we all shared in.

For many of us He-Man was all we had and that, at least, gave us something to look forward to. This was something wonderful and we were lucky enough to experience it all firsthand. We all reached up and touched a little bit of magic and it lit our imaginations and really never left us.

Before kids started playing with wands and imagining the wizarding world of Harry Potter we were holding plastic swords aloft in the air and commanding the powers of the universe!

I recently walked through Target and I saw He-Man and the Masters of the Universe on the shelves. I also saw retro Transformers toys and some great Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle stuff from NECA. There were G.I. Joes and I even saw Ghostbusters! “What year is this?” I had a moment, a good moment, where I realized I’m honestly not alone.

This stuff not only inspired me but it had to have stayed with all of us. The good old days can’t be relived I guess but they never left us. Not really. A lot of us have kids (well not me personally) and get to now introduce them to the toylines we ourselves grew up with. With the holidays upon us, it might be a good time to go look around the toy aisles. Give Santa a helping hand.

So who knew the Power of Grayskull would follow us this far?

The Power of Grayskull

Art never dies. Not when there’s passion behind it. Today MOTU has been explored across several animated shows, a live-action movie (hey, rise above the hate), and, oh yes, the toy lines. Four Horsemen rolled out their brilliant Classics line that charged new energy (dare I say Power) and searing details into each figure that echoed the original look of the toys we all grew up loving.

Not to mention the Origins line that’s a glorified return of the MOTU toys we all played with. But there’s also the Revelations and New Eternia stuff. I think it’s clear that He-Man isn’t going anywhere. Fans find ways to breathe fresh life into the property.

There are the comic book runs that extend the legacy of Eternia. There’s even a great crossover with Thundercats (I know right???), a thing I always thought should happen. Glad I wasn’t alone because that’s one Healluva cool story! Maybe I’ll do a review on that one. You guys let me know.

And other artists have come out to lend their talents to strengthen the legacy further. One artist of note is none other than Boris Vallejo, legendary fantasy artist. And it’s little wonder considering how Frank Frazetta’s original Conan work initially inspired the look and feel for He-Man. It began in fantasy and continues by it today.

Afterthoughts

I was just speaking with someone this week about MOTU and he said that it’s possible all his collecting could have begun way back then when, as a kid, he had to get everything He-Man related. And that’s it. That could be the gateway for all of us collectors. For some, it was an introduction to high adventures, magic, heroism, morals, and the responsibility of power. MOTU led way to many things we would adapt as adults later in life. A toy line!

In closing, it would be sinful if I didn’t share a small memory.

I fondly remember one figure in particular just because it was given to me by my Great-Grandma Phillips. She (no doubt) had no clue what these things were but she knew her little Manic loved He-Man so she got me an amazing BATTLE DAMAGE Skeletor. Whoa! I never saw a figure that took battle damage before! I loved it. Now looking back I love it so much more because of my great-grandmother’s associated memory attached to it. I think that’s the only thing I got from her, at least it’s the one thing that stands out to me. She wasn’t long for this world and any time I saw that little toy she came to mind.

Manic out!

Bela Lugosi And The Insidious Charm of Ygor! ‘Son of Frankenstein’

Bela Lugosi needs no introduction among horror enthusiasts. Forever more will he be associated with the nocturnal Prince of Darkness, Count Dracula, for his phenomenal portrayal of Bram Stoker’s titular character. Laying the foundations for the future of talking horror flicks to follow in his haunted footsteps Lugosi also ensured the future of Universal as the House of Horrors. 

Doubtlessly whenever his name is mentioned people primarily associate the late actor with his immortal vampire role. Moldy castles, gargantuan spider webs, capes, shadows, and those piercing eyes are forever etched in the edifice of horror history. Had the man played only one role – that of Dracula – it is for certain he would have secured a timeless legacy. 

What many people sadly miss out on though are the other horror roles Lugosi likewise immortalized by that devilish charm and uncanny of his. Briefly, I am obligated to mention his monstrous role played in Island of Lost Souls, a retelling of the Island of Dr. Moreau, where Lugosi chews up his scenes with feral passionate intensity. 

And then there’s today’s topic at hand – the one and only Ygor, the lumbering grave robber who sensationally steals the show in the third installment of Universal’s Frankenstein legacy, Son of Frankenstein. Critics and horror enthusiasts alike praise James Whales’ horror legends Frankenstein and its celebrated sequel Bride of Frankenstein. Sadly though that’s usually where people stop watching the legacy. Probably assuming nothing that followed could match up to the two remarkable films Whales accomplished to make. Daring, frightening, and downright shocking were the first two movies. So much so that when Boris Karloff’s face was first revealed as the monster people hid under their seats in the theater. 

The third installment not only holds up but is just as magnificent as its prior movies. Mainly due to the combined charisma of Karloff and Lugosi working together. Both playing monsters, both shining with macabre excellence, but, if we’re being fully honest here, it is dear ol’ Bela Lugosi who steals the movie and brilliantly outshines Karloff’s uncanny monster. 

Karloff fought to get Lugosi in the role and insisted the man share in the top billing. Thankfully he won because otherwise the world would have been robbed of one helluva monstrous character! So iconic is Lugosi’s Ygor that to this very day people assume all hunchback lab assistants in gothic horror tales are Ygor.

The truth is the hunchback assistant in the first movie is called Fritz and there was no hunchback in the original novel at all. However, Lugosi immortalized the monster and cemented his hideous grin all across horror history.  Making him a gothic staple just as much as windmills, cemeteries, and crumbling castles.

Whereas Dracula was played seriously, grim, and downright dapper Ygor is polar opposite the image. Ygor is grungy, smells like deep earth from the graves he robs, dirty, and hairy. He was hanged from the gallows but didn’t stay dead, a fact to which Ygor gleefully gloats about in the film. “They die, dead! I die, live!” he says with a devilish smile. 

Synopsis

In the film, Basil Rathbone plays the son of Frankenstein returning back to his family castle where the village people are not too happy to have another Frankenstein in their midst. There Wolf Frankenstein (can we please take a moment to marvel at how METAL that name is) is met by a snooping Ygor who enlists the young doctor into reviving the old monster of his father’s making. Reluctant at first, Wolf finally agrees unable to pass up the chance to improve upon his father’s work. Meanwhile, Ygor has befriended the monster and uses him to kill the men who found him guilty and sentenced him to death. So on the one hand Ygor is using Frankenstein to revive his buddy the monster. And on the other, he’s using the monster to avenge his enemies. Ygor is the devil sitting on everyone’s shoulder instigating and manipulating as he wishes. And he’s laughing his ass off as he does it.

Someone said that Ygor is the instigator among all the Universal Monsters and I like that image. I like to think he lumbers around and stirs up mischief among the Mummy and the Gillman. He would steal the Wolfman’s bone and hide it in Dracula’s coffin as a way to make the two fight. Crazy shit like that and if confronted about it he’d just put his hands in the air, shrug his shoulders, smile, and say “Ygor not do wrong. Ygor was gone fishing.” Or something like that. 

Neca’s been releasing the Universal line right now and I’m hoping someone there has the foresight to make us a proper Ygor figure. I’d throw money at that quick as a lightning bolt.

So here’s to Bela Lugosi and the marvelous monsters and giddy ghouls he gave us. If you’ve not seen Son of Frankenstein this Halloween would be a good time to correct that. It’s also the final time Boris Karloff would play the iconic role of the monster and does so beautifully.

Manic out! 

Of Hobbits, The One Ring, and Grand Adventures!

 

Many moons ago I stepped out of the confusing world forced upon me and into a literary world of cunning dragons, wizards, and magic rings. The horizon of imagination spread before my mind revealing mountains where monsters hid deep down at the roots of the world, towers in black, and epic battles roaring across green fields. Once I took my first steps into the lively world of Middle-Earth there would be no coming back. 

I say with all honesty that had it not been for the literary works of J.R.R. Tolkien I most likely would either not be the person I am today (certainly would not have pursued writing) or be here at all. You see Mr. Bilbo Baggins and the rest of the Hobbits came to me in the darkest years of my early life. I don’t tend to reflect too personally (can’t imagine anyone being interested anyway) but as my coffee cools beside me and The Two Towers plays on TV – and here on the anniversary of the late Professor’s death – I find myself a bit sentimental. So I handle this the way a writer does – by writing. 

And it begins in part in a faraway land of many shadows. 

Around the age of twelve, my parents quit their careers, sold our 17-room ranch home, and moved us overseas to serve the Good Lord as faith-based missionaries (‘faith based’ for those who don’t know means we relied on financial support from local churches kind enough to give us money) in the former Soviet Union.

Within months we went from a big house to a one-room flat where I was sleeping on the floor with a thin pillow and blanket. My sister and I huddled around the space heater and shivered beneath a newly discovered kind of misery, one that defeated Napolean’s armies and one that crushed the Nazi war machine. Russian winters, which proved unbeaten and taught us a new meaning of the concept of cold. 

Simple things like going out to buy eggs became a challenge. I didn’t speak the language yet and I wasn’t used to being stared at or pointed at. I saw strange faces whispering as I walked by and knew I was the topic. I was only 12 and I’m glad I didn’t know about Russia’s bad habit of human trafficking or I might have boarded myself up in the flat. I was young, scared, and very far from home. The days were shorter and the chill nights long, much longer than I ever knew nights could be. As the sun set each afternoon you felt the heavy shroud of night roll over the city and it became no wonder why Eastern Europe is known as the land of vampires. 

I should also mention the oppressiveness that loomed over the country in those days, a lingering ghost of the failed USSR stubbornly remaining, refusing to admit defeat in light of a newly placed democracy. Might as well mention this was also the city that destroyed its Czar and his family and was ruled by the tyrannical occultist Rasputin. The city was both physically dark and spiritually so. A land of shadows and I found myself unwillingly in the dead center of it. 

My separation anxiety was out of control being so far from friends and cousins and grandparents. With puberty riding a train of chaos through my body and my thoughts in tatters due to grief I’m not proud to admit that I was dangerously suicidal at an early age. I saw absolutely no future ahead, had nothing to live for, and my world was torn away from me. I was already tired of being spat on by neighbors or stoned in the streets just because I was different from the public. I slipped into a mental pit, was becoming wraith life in my thinking, and the shadows were taking over my thoughts. Worst part was I couldn’t act like I was in any mental pain because apparently, that’s not what faith-based believers do. Gotta rely on God and all that to be healed. The churches were watching after all. 

But, into the darkness of those days shone a light, very unexpectedly too, and by its grace, I saw similarities between a marvelous world of fantasy and the life I now lived. An adventure was at hand. Of all things a Hobbit who had no interest in leaving his hearth and home suddenly found himself whisked away on a very big adventure. The odyssey of dwarves, the threat of trolls, evil goblins in the hills, and a dragon! It’s as if the book was personalized just to me. And slowly I found something to look forward to. 

The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings cast their spell over me and crazy enough I found my courage thanks to them. I never even liked reading before these. But these were so very different! These weren’t school books or required reading. These were something otherworldly, something I needed when I had nothing else left to enjoy in life. When most kids my age were playing Super Nintendo back West I was sleeping on a cold hard floor. Kind of like the Hobbits who left the comforts of the Shire and found themselves in caves or on tree roots. My depression was slowly pushed aside in favor of Rangers, elves, and a pursuit to defeat the Great Shadow. 

It didn’t take long for me to start fantasizing about my own fables and far-off mythic places. I began writing and – can you believe it? – loving it! The more I wrote the happier I found myself. Like I had discovered some amazing jewel in an unexpected place. I kept at it, adding maps and illustrations along the way, and developing stories about elves and dragons. Always about dragons! And to this day dragons remain in the center of my story, the one I’m currently working out. 

Before I knew it Tolkien gave me a reason to wake up and look forward to the days ahead. To turn challenges into adventures. But more than that to look forward to what’s ahead despite the doom at present.

His stunning descriptions have taken root inside my core and given me strength over the years. How bravery more often than might proves to be the most useful. The enormity of good friendships. Of hope in the face of hopelessness.

There’s a reason why Professor Tolkien is called the Author of the Century. I’m not the only life he’s saved along the way. Not at all the only writer he’s inspired either. The world of Middle-Earth was written by a man who was once left for dead in the trenches during World War I. Tolkien lost many of his dearest friends during the Great War and later returned home with a lot of pain and confusion weighing on his chest. The problem of evil and the atrocities committed against innocent lives being among them. Issues his grand mythology went on to tackle and deal with, especially the problem with evil. A topic powerfully displayed by the Ring Wraiths.

Tolkien’s themes are grand but not out of reach. The choices made by the Fellowship are ones we ourselves are free to make. We might not have a Dark Lord in Mordor to contend with. But we can still choose life over death, hope rather than despair, and courage despite the fears inside us. 

There’s a modern movement nowadays trying to distort the humble philosophies laid down by the Professor. Orcish-type minds I call them, but the nobility of the man’s great works cannot be overthrown. Too many lives shine like stars across the night sky due to Tolkien’s original inspiring flame. His broken heart was used to give this world something immeasurably beautiful. And it will outlive each one of us and go on to encourage and inspire millions more with each coming age.