I want to make another film because I am not completely happy with the last film I made, a documentary short about artistic dance rollerskaters. As far as content goes, I was completely satisfied, but there were certain technical aspects—namely bad sound and garish lighting—that really made me want to make another film. I have never made a feature, so I worry that I will not have enough material for one.
I want to make another film because there are so many stories out there that need to be told and I want to tell them. I want to make another documentary because there are so many dying art forms that need to be documented and, in some cases, there are so few living witnesses that if I wait too long to make these films, entire chapters of history will be lost forever!
I want to make a documentary about Harry Wise, the last ghostmaster of central Florida, because he was a local guy (Sanford, FL) who practiced a now obscure art form: running “spook shows” that accompanied midnight horror movies. Spook shows were live entertainment of a scary nature that served to get the audience in the mood for the horror movie that would follow. These shows were a phenomenon between the 1950s-1970s and were led by ghostmasters with such names as Dr. Jekyl (AKA Harry Wise), Dr. Evil (AKA Phillip Morris), Chan Loo, et al. Ghostmasters performed magic tricks, such as sawing women in half, but they also performed séances and promised moviegoers a show so scary that a week’s worth of nightmares would ensue!
Two popular hallmarks of the spook show included an escaped monster running amok, grabbing people (usually women) in the crowd, and the “blackout.” The blackout was where all of the lights in the theater would shut off—sometimes this was when the monster would do his grabbing. The blackout typically signified the end of the spook show, and then the horror movie would start.
Harry Wise’s connection to the area not only means that there are people here who knew him, but, in his case, two local museums have exhibits dedicated to him. There are few, if any, scholarly resources devoted to Harry Wise or ghostmasters, so it will be vital to mine local resources for information.[1]
Unfortunately, Mr. Wise is dead (as of 2009), and although there are a couple of people in Atlanta and Detroit (and possibly a handful of other cities) who perform as ghostmasters, Harry’s story is in danger of being relegated to obscurity or, at best, local history. I don’t want that fate for him.
Ghostmasters and spook shows were part of pop-culture history—a precursor to the modern haunted house attraction—and even though modern audiences are probably too sophisticated to be entertained by dead chickens and men in gorilla suits running amok through the crowd, there is something quaint about it all.
I want to make a movie about Harry Wise, the last ghostmaster of central Florida because this is a story I feel compelled to share. This is a story I would be honored to share.
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I am a picky moviegoer—I will watch all sorts of movies, but as far as considering a movie “great,” well, very few movies make the cut. I consider a movie to be great if it is one I would watch more than once.
Some of my favorites are film school “classics”—Psycho, A Clockwork Orange, Eraserhead, but just as many (if not more) are campy. Mommie Dearest, Cry Baby, Psycho Beach Party, and Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story all come to mind. While some of these movies are technically perfect—good sound, great photography, brilliant performances, others have bad sound, ridiculous dialogue, and over-the-top performances. Yet all of these are movies I would consider great.
For me, a great movie has nothing to do with technical perfection and everything to do with the director’s voice. I don’t mean that the director literally speaks in each of these films; rather, when I watch each of these films I feel like everything in them is part of the director’s vision. Each shot, each angle, each lens is intentional. Everything down to what color nail polish a character wears is intentional. If the dialogue is bad or the performance is over-the-top, it is because the director wants you to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. If the sound is bad, it is because it was the director’s first film and the Carpenters sued him so the only copies available are bootlegs.
When I watch a film, I want to be completely absorbed. Art direction that isn’t period appropriate removes me from a film. Camera movements that seem unmotivated remove me from a film. While I realize that some art is not meant to be understood, I at least want to feel it, to forge a connection with the director. I want to know that everything in a shot has some significance. I am a control freak, so when I watch a movie, I want to be assured that everything I am seeing has been carefully engineered to suit the director’s vision. Seeing that intentionality is what makes a film great to me.
[1] To date, I have acquired what I believe to be the three available resources devoted to Harry Wise and/or ghostmasters: two books and one DVD. One book is by local author Charlie Carlson, entitled The True Story of Magician Harry Wise, A Wizard’s Tux and Tales (Luthers, 2004). The other book is Mark Walker’s Ghostmasters: A Look Back at America’s Midnight Spook Shows (Cool Hand Communications, 1994). Rounding out the group is Monsters Crash the Pajama Party Spook Show Spectacular (Something Weird Video, 2001). In addition to having several bad horror movies on it, Monsters includes spook show radio spots, directions for setting up your own spook show, and commentary from Harry “Dr. Jekyl” Wise and Phillip “Dr. Evil” Morris. Harry Wise also performed as “Mr. Magic” on a local TV show in the 1950s, so I may be able to find footage of that.
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