Ghosts, Grinning and Otherwise
Last Monday, Audrey and I trucked up to the Williamsburg Nitehawk to watch “Ghost Almanac,” a movie mixtape of vintage shorts, cartoons, and silent films with a macabre bent, with a live score performed by Montopolis, two musicians (in the incarnation we saw), one of whom played synths and electric guitar, while the other switched back and forth from doing foley and sound effects on his soundboard and banging on odd instruments he'd welded himself.
It was, improbably, even more awesome than it sounds. (If weird music played over old film clips doesn’t sound awesome, then I understand you, but will never really understand you.) They ran through original scores for The Skeleton Dance, a clip from Haxan, a clip from The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, the full Buster Keaton short The Haunted House, a clip from L'Inferno, Betty Boop's Halloween Party, The Vanishing Lady, and a clip from Nosferatu.
A very small teaspoon of the new scoring didn’t work for me – some cartoonishly “wacky” sound effects layered on the Buster Keaton short cut against Keaton’s famous stone face and elegant underplaying – but most of it was revelatory. I’ll confess to admiring both Haxan and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari as absolute visual marvels of early filmmaking, while still finding them a minor narrative snooze to actually sit through, but I’d absolutely love to see the full films with these driving, idiosyncratic new scores.
Audrey and I both particularly liked the Betty Boop selection for the way it played against expectations. Instead of silly music, they went with something halfway between a Goblin score for some Argento movie and the sort of Nine Inch Nails track that would end up in a David Lynch project. When I’m really into something, I get my most embarrassingly neurodivergent, rubbing my feet together and bobbing my head to my own beat, so it means something to say that, during Ghost Almanac, I was like a cricket on speed. Check it out if they’re coming somewhere near you. Montopolis’s website seems to have not been updated for a year or so, but I found their current tour dates elsewhere.
Even if I hadn’t loved the show, I’d be indebted to the screening for two reasons:
(1) It introduced me to the “waterphone,” an instrument I’d never seen before, despite having heard it in countless horror movies. That horror sound that’s like the world’s most out-of-tune metal violin cascading down a musical scale, like the devil’s warming up for a concert? That’s a waterphone. The horror sound that’s like someone in a dank basement banging musical plumbing? That’s also a waterphone.
(While I’m confident in the accuracy of my descriptions, it’s like the old saying says – talking about music is like dancing about waterphones, so here’s a link to listen for yourself.)
(2) The Nitehawk pre-show included an extended clip from an old Wonderful World of Disney (narrated by Kurt Russell in Disney child star mode!) with a behind-the-scenes of The Haunted Mansion that explained some of the simple-but-effective techniques used in the ride (i.e. the Pepper’s Ghost reflections used for the waltzing specters, or the projection of a moving face onto a blank bust for one of the “Grim Grinning Ghosts” singers).
This clip sent me spiraling back to my lazy childhood watching hours of The Disney Channel, which – back then – leaned far more heavily on the repackaging of classic content than churning out tween comedies. This Wonderful World of Disney episode is the ur-text for my lifelong fascination with The Haunted Mansion, despite it being a ride I never actually got to experience in person until I finally went to Disney World in 2022. (I had been to Disneyland twice – once when I was too young to remember, and once on my first trip to L.A. in 2010 when I made a beeline for the Haunted Mansion, only to find it closed for its annual holiday re-skin to a ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’ theme and got pretty embarrassingly upset about this tragic shock-blocking.)
The Haunted Mansion is the apex of the “haunted house” amusement park ride, but I confess having an irrational love for the form in general. I love it when done skillfully and I love it just as much when it’s the jankiest thing in the park – think the Screamatorium from The Simpsons. Give me a haunted house that makes you feel ripped off for paying two bucks, and I will react with childlike glee. I love getting into a little mine cart and being whipped around on tracks, as a rubber ghoul is wanly thrust toward my face, via spring-loaded machinery clogged by rust. Give me a gust of wind, a spider web that’s just some threads dangling over the passing cart, a coffin with something in it that you’d love to see if the lightbulb above it hadn’t burnt out in 1973, and I'm a happy sicko.
Where does this love come from? I’m not entirely sure. Some of it’s just a general fondness for hucksterism – the scrappy attempt to make something from nothing. I love things like cheap magic shows, the seedy side of Coney Island, or small-time carnivals, and part of that love is how they overpromise and underdeliver. It sends me back to childhood when I was impressionable and optimistic and the sizzle could convince me I loved the steak.
There’s also something very human about it, the same way that it's sometimes more fun to watch a bunch of kids do a school play than see an "okay" Broadway show. The talent's clearly higher on Broadway, but so are your expectations. If they don’t absolutely kill it, you walk out disappointed, whereas the kids can win you over with enthusiasm and the feeling of “well, at least they tried.” There’s charm in enthusiastic failure.
Maybe it’s not surprising I wound up making a career out of bad movies...
Anyway, speaking of overpromising and under-delivering – this isn’t an installment of Special Interests with any grand conclusion to draw. It’s just some musings. That’s okay sometimes. The exit’s to your left, and the two dollars are not refundable, but please enjoy some cotton candy on us. (Hands you an expired coupon.) Hurry back! Hurry back! Be sure to bring your death certificate… if you decide to join us. Make final arrangements now! We’ve been dying to have you.
For earlier posts, check out the archive. In my other life, I’m a podcaster. Listen to my show The Flop House, here. In my other other life, I’m an Emmy-winning comedy writer. If you’re looking to staff, get in touch! And if you love the newsletter, you can always consider tipping me, by enrolling in the paid tier!