Three Decades of David: The Man Behind the Wolf

I'm closing out 2011 with one last edition of Three Decades of David, my year-long celebration of the 30th anniversary of An American Werewolf in London. This time out, we take a look at the man who brought this visionary and influential horror film to life, and one of the most underrated directors in the entire horror canon, Mr. John Landis.

Known equally for his work in comedy and horror, Landis has been a fixture in Hollywood since the late 1970s, when he exploded onto the scene with National Lampoon's Animal House, the film that established him as a top filmmaker. Nevertheless, filmmaking had been a passion for the Jewish-born Chicago native since he was a small child absorbing in amazement the work of Ray Harryhausen in movies like The 7th Voyage of Sinbad.

In fact, it was 7th Voyage that first put the directing bug in the boy's head, as he started wondering exactly whose job it was to make movies, and if he could take part. So from the beginning, it was the fantastic and surreal that drew Landis to the world of directing, and that attitude would be reflected in much of his later body of work:

I had complete suspension of disbelief—really, I was eight years old and it transported me. I was on that beach running from that dragon, fighting that Cyclops. It just really dazzled me, and I bought it completely. And so, I actually sat through it twice and when I got home, I asked my mom, “Who does that? Who makes the movie?” - The Film That Changed My Life, by Robert K. Elder

Landis got his start as an assistant director in Yugoslavia on the 1970 war comedy Kelly's Heroes, and also spent some further time in Europe assisting on movies like El Condor and Sergio Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West.

His actual feature film debut came in 1971 at the age of 21, when he wrote and directed the low-budget monster movie tribute, Schlock. But most of the '70s were tough for the young Landis, as he tried to break into Hollywood, taking any odd job he could along the way. He got a major break in 1977 when he directed the Zucker brothers breakout Kentucky Fried Movie, but it was Animal House a year later that put him on the map.

It was that movie that pushed Landis into a vibrant creative circle that included hot directors like Steven Spielberg and many of the masterminds behind America's new cutting-edge sketch comedy series, Saturday Night Live. In fact, his next feature would be the first film to be adapted from an SNL skit, namely The Blues Brothers starring Dan Akroyd and John Belushi.

His name established as a comedy director, Landis at last felt comfortable delving into an area that had long been his passion: horror. When he got the word out that his next project would be a personal labor of love called An American Werewolf in London, a lot of people were surprised that the director of such happy-go-lucky, light-hearted fare was tackling such a supposedly heavy project. Little did they know how close to his heart the material was. Actually, the original concept came to Landis while working on Kelly's Heroes in Yugoslavia, when he witnessed some peasants burying a man suspected of being a werewolf.

For 12 years, Landis had nursed the AWIL project, and to this day it is considered by most to be his finest work. Deftly weaving black comedy and real horror in a way not quite seen before, Landis crafted a truly innovative, preeminently influential motion picture, one worthy of being called one of the greatest fright films of all time. Best of all, he brought his unique comic sensibility to the project, making it a movie that's pretty tough to compare to anything else.

Finally having broken through to the genre he cherished best of all, Landis continued on for a bit in the horror vein, joining forces with none other than Steven Speilberg to produce a movie based on the classic Rod Serling TV series, The Twilight Zone. Also directing a portion of the anthology film, Landis ran into some serious trouble that nearly derailed his career when famed actor Vic Morrow and two child extras were accidentally killed in a helicopter during filming. After a trial for involuntary manslaughter and child endangerment, Landis and company were acquitted of all charges, but the tragedy and controversy has haunted the producer/director to a certain degree ever since.

Regardless of the Twilight Zone debacle, the 1980s was something of a golden era for John Landis. He would go on to direct the most famous music video of all time, Michael Jackson's "Thriller", which is in and of itself something of a horror short subject. He then settled back into his comedy comfort zone for much of the decade, putting out fondly remembered '80s flicks like Trading Places, Spies Like Us, Three Amigos and Coming to America.

If the 1980s was a golden age for Landis, then his directorial career took a decided dip into silver or bronze territory in the 1990s. This was the decade that gave us the Sylvester Stallone turkey Oscar, and the ill-conceived Tom Arnold vehicle The Stupids. Even a return to the franchise that once brought him such acclaim resulted only in the completely forgettable Blues Brothers 2000. Similarly, Beverly Hills Cop III did nothing to change the trend.

Although certainly not anywhere near the same ballpark as American Werewolf, Landis did make a brief return to horror in the 1990s with the vampire/gangster comedy Innocent Blood. While entertaining and possessing something of that Landis horror/comedy spark, it was a far cry from what the director had accomplished a decade prior.

Perhaps recognizing this downward trend, Landis shifted gears in the new century, turning to documentary filmmaking for much of the first decade. And now, the producer/director has reportedly shown interest in returning to the horror genre in the coming years, a rumor which is supported by his executive producing of last year's underground horror/comedy hit Some Guy Who Kills People.

Although his body of work can adequately be described as erratic, John Landis nevertheless deserves recognition as one of the brightest, visionary genre directors of his time. Just the achievement of An American Werewolf in London alone would be enough to afford him a fond remembrance in the hearts of horror and comedy fans. Add his successful SNL-alum comedies of the 1970s and 1980s, and you have a filmmaker who more than made his mark on his era.

Inspired by genre great Ray Harryhausen in that darkened theater, Landis grew to become a genre great himself.



Three Decades of David:

The Movie That Changed Werewolf Movies (And Horror!)
How the Dr. Pepper Pitchman Became a Horror Icon
The Music of An American Werewolf in London

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Three Decades of David: How the Dr. Pepper Pitchman Became a Horror Icon

If at least part of your childhood was spent in the 1970s, as mine was, then you probably remember those ubiquitous commercials for Dr. Pepper, in which a handsome young man led a crowd of dancers through the streets, in Pied-Piper fashion, all the while singing the catchy jingle, "I'm a Pepper." It was as much a part of the era as G.E.'s "We Bring Good Things to Life," and of course, McDonald's "You Deserve a Break Today" (both written by Barry Manilow, incidentally).

However, if you were under a proverbial rock back then, or more likely if you were not yet a twinkle in your mommy and daddy's eyes, then here's a little reminder:



Chances are, if you're reading this blog, that even if you're too young to remember those old school Dr. Pepper commercials, you definitely recognize that handsome young man. That's because he's David Naughton, who would very soon thereafter rise to horror immortality in a starring role in John Landis' classic An American Werewolf in London.

It was certainly a most unorthodox career path, and definitely not one Naughton expected to embark upon when moving to New York City to find stage work after graduating from the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts. At age 24, he landed his first dramatic role in the 1975 production of Hamlet at Lincoln Center, starring Sam Waterston and directed by Joseph Papp. However, he probably had an idea that his career had some unexpected things in store for him when not long after, he scored his first screen role--an appearance on the Planet of the Apes TV series.

However, it would be the following year that Naughton would land the part that would literally make him a recognizable star. And it was not a play, nor a movie, nor a TV show, but a soda commercial. Dr. Pepper was launching a brand-new campaign designed to convert people over to Pepper drinkers, and they were looking for a charismatic, fresh face around which to build it. The role required a lot of dancing, which gave Naughton pause when his agent initially made him aware of the project.

Intimidated by the sheer number of New York-area dancers who'd surely turn up for the auditions, Naughton showed up nevertheless. And got the part. Over the next four years, he would become one of the most well-known actors in American TV commercials, dancing and singing his way into the homes of millions, all the while extolling the virtues of Dr. Pepper.

"I don't understand actors who would rather work as bill collectors than try for a commercial," Naughton said in a 1981 interview with People magazine. "If I had been a purist, I'd still be waiting on tables. Dr Pepper opened Hollywood for me."

That statement was indeed an accurate one. It was while out in California doing public appearances for Dr. Pepper that another project came on Naughton's radar. Apparently, John Landis, the guy who made The Blues Brothers and Animal House, was getting to work on a horror comedy about werewolves. As the story goes, Landis and his wife Deborah were both avid Pepper lovers, and Deborah in particular was a big fan of Naughton from the TV ads. An interview was set up, and Naughton didn't even need to audition before being offered the starring role.

In addition to the Pepper commercials, Landis was also impressed with the fact that Naughton had lived in England, and had gone across Britain on a bicycle, since the film took place in England, and would involve Naughton's character, the doomed David Kessler, backpacking across the English countryside. It's also very possible that Naughton's very wholesome image, cultivated from the commercials, lent a certain shock value to the role that appealed to Landis.

Whatever the reasons in the end, Naughton was the perfect choice for Kessler. The film was a hit, grossing $19 million in its first month--quite a feat for a horror film in 1981--and finally attaching a name to the face and voice that millions of Americans already knew. David Naughton was now a bona fide star, and even if he arguably never quite surpassed An American Werewolf in London in his subsequent career, the film earned him a permanent place in the hearts of horror fans the world over. Certainly not something the former face of Dr. Pepper would have ever envisioned.

"I used to have people dance up to me in airports singing, 'I'm a Pepper, you're a Pepper,' " said Naughton to People. "Now they look at me and start baying at the moon."

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Three Decades of David: The Music of An American Werewolf in London

It's hard to believe that it's been 30 long years since John Landis' comic horror masterpiece, An American Werewolf in London, was first released to theaters in the summer of 1981. There can be no doubt that this film is one of the all-time greats of modern horror--or of all horror cinema, for that matter. And it deserves recognition during this lofty anniversary. Therefore, in the grand tradition of previous efforts here in the Vault, such as A Quarter-Century of Krueger and Psycho Semi-Centennial, I bring you Three Decades of David--a celebration of all things AWIL that will continue throughout the remainder of the year.

For this, the first installment of Three Decades of David, I'm taking a look at one of the most integral and memorable elements of An American Werewolf in London: The music. Short as it may be, the soundtrack to this film is one of the main reasons why it is so beloved to this day, and stands as one of the most definitive touches brought by Landis to the picture.

Carrying over a popular '70s device (arguably first introduced by Martin Scorsese in Mean Streets) Landis achieved a true masterstroke by introducing familiar 1960s pop tunes into his movie, dropping them into a scenario in which they would seem to have no business being, thus benefiting the film by their very juxtaposition. And yet as "out of place" as these tunes may seem to be, we all know the very simple, clever reason they were all incorporated: All the songs have one thing in common, the word "moon" in the title. And we all know the connection between werewolves and the moon, right? A very simple conceit, there can be no doubt. Perhaps too simple. But who can argue with the results?

Let's take a look at the five "moon" songs included in the film:

1. "Blue Moon" by Bobby Vinton
Played over the opening credits and shots of the ominous English moors during the daytime, this recording was made in 1963 by Polish-American crooner Bobby Vinton. It was already by that time a very well-known pop standard by the team of Rodgers & Hart, and the first of three versions of the song included in the movie. The beautiful melody and vocals would stand in jarring contrast to the shocking content soon to follow.

2. "Blue Moon" by Sam Cooke
The second of the three versions of Rodgers & Hart's 1934 classic to be included, this one is performed by the soulful Sam Cooke, and was recorded in 1960. I'll admit, I would have liked to have seen more varied "moon" songs included, rather than have the same one repeated thrice--"Moonglow", anyone? "I Wished on the Moon", perhaps? "Moonlight Becomes You"? Oh well...

3. "Moondance" by Van Morrison
The title song to Morrison's 1970 album of the same name, this very sexy recording is very suitably used to further dramatize the burgeoning romance between David and his nurse-turned-girlfriend Alex.

4. "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Perhaps the most fondly remembered of all the recordings used in the film, this was arguably Creedence's most well-known tune (a #2 hit from their 1969 album Green River), used to lead into the breathtaking Rick Baker werewolf transformation scene. The light-hearted tone of the music, mixed with the ominous message of the lyrics, perfectly sum up the effect of the movie itself.

5. "Blue Moon" by The Marcels
And finally, we have the third and last rendition of "Blue Moon", the boldly reinterpreted 1961 doo-wop version by The Marcels, used by Landis over the closing credits. It kicks in just as we see David shot dead in the street by the woman he loves. Used in this way, the brash, buoyant (standard traditionalists might even say abrasive) vocals are utterly striking.

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John Landis Enters the Crypt

There I was, feeling a little bummed out that Diary of the Dead is thus far getting only a limited release of 42 theaters nationwide--with the closest one to me being 35 miles away--when, lo and behold, this life-affirming news comes over the wire.
Variety reported last night that John Landis, best known to horror aficionados as the director of An American Werewolf in London, will be stepping in to helm the biopic "Ghoulishly Yours, William M. Gaines," based on the life of the famous EC Comics and Mad Magazine publisher.
As you probably have guessed, I am a big fan of EC Comics (that's my favorite Tales from the Crypt cover, by the way.) It all began back in the 1950s when my dad first discovered them as a kid. Fast-forward 30 years later, and he passed along the love for those gore-soaked pages to me, his only begotten son.
The picture is expected to focus on the rise of EC Comics in the '50s, and in particular the First Amendment battle that ensued when his horror comics were targeted by the U.S. Senate for their "harmful influence" on kids like my dad. As another life-long fan of EC and classic horror in general, I'm hoping for Landis to knock this one out of the park.
Now all I need is for Diary of the Dead to go wide next weekend...

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