The Steady Hand

The Steady Hand by Lavel Wideman

It was one night our mother decided to visit uncle Leroy and his family--which has always been our happy hour. Never to our father because he was left at home. It was us three who couldn't wait to break free from home life.

Going to see uncle Leroy and his family was always a treat; it just brought a fleeting happiness to the monotonous of daily life.

It was our cousins...well,let me say the clashes of two worlds come into collide. How different worlds emerge, the uncommon difference between my brother and I and cousins Niecie and Shalom, who were not wonderful toy keepers.

That's the way we had viewed it.

At home my brother and I was taught how to keep our toys,including comic books, etc. Our father made sure that whatever we got such as toys and things was taught to keep them in good condition, no matter how the task, just keep them neatly. And if we could keep them just like the over two hundred comic books were kept, in clear plastic bag, we would, but we didn't go that far, but we made sure our toys were collector worthy. And boy, dad was proud.

But not by our news we relayed to him about how our cousins treated their toys. Floors scattered with broken bits and pieces of recent Christmas gifts, now figuratively, a bunch of junk ready to be disposed of in the incinerator.
We pushed them to do it, but they were happy with what they had, uncaringly joyous, holding no regrets.

Tears almost fell, going home we told dad of our visit and how Niecie and Shalom didn't keep their toys like he made us do. And boy, you should have seen my dad. I think he got on my mom about that, and an argument accrued, in which she called my aunt and uncle because my dad was coming along the next visit. And sure enough once he got there went directly into those children's room and saw for himself how they kept their toys; and the let go of taking care of them. Oh boy, was he mad.

He couldn't clobber my uncle because that's in that man's own house but he got on him about the way the kids didn't have good toys to play with.

...Such sadness, seeing dolls with no heads, bare naked without any clothes on. Fire trucks with one wheel off, no ladder. Puzzles once boxed as one hundred pieces were now twenty pieces or less. Games, suprisingly enough, not so bad. Niecie was a fabulous hostess believe it or not (even among the muck). The only survivable toys during the troublesome years these children ever had, were two toys, and that was a tonka truck and a doll baby head that had the winking eye. Remember those?

Speaking of which it was that head piece this story is about...

You know children will be children, and we were no-hold-back-fun-from-us kind of kids. We basted in fun, especially us four. The imagination is quite enliven when children are gathered, nothing controlling us, fairy land is real or has come alive.
Yes; and there, teams were made: boys against girls, girls against boys, and boy, me and Niecie, we were unstoppable, however this time, it's this time the boys made a halting turnaround or rather haunting one...

For some strange reason, I guess to save energy my aunt changed the light bulb, the lampshade helped the dark hued room give an unfavorable aura. Walls weren't eggshell, beds didn't look playful, now the toys were no longer enchanted for play. Bat man became Black man, headless Barbie (head somewhere) laid lifeless, knowing now, that she is nobody without that blonde head of hers. Just another toy laid ignored.

Me and Niecie wanted to know what was going on. Why were the boys all of a sudden pushing us away from the door, keeping us out of the room.
We were dumbfound. Thinking, have our victorious wins brought on an uncertain toil among our brothers: Wayne and Shalom. Have we formed a hatred from within?
What was going on behind the door?

Enough was enough, we had to know. We had pushed in and see what was...

GASP!

The one steady hand held tightly the doll's head immediately stopped us in our tracks. A shrill scream of fear fell from our lips both Niecie and I fell back. So frightened by the effect this severed doll head had on us we clambered for safety.
Just by that hand, fear was held up and in the face. My brother was the genius behind that one held hand hold the head. And what a effect that was.

Can you imagine jumping from your seat into the next aisle while watching a scary movie in a theatre? That's the effect, made cheaply, my brother gave us. It was that one held hand holds the head in utterable fear was ground breaking.

Remember the background the tinted hue room, it helped!

Those who are in school for special effects or computer graphics (CGI), God speed!
We need creative minds to make movies become real. From Star Wars to Return of the Living Dead, fear can be first imagined then tested among your audience.
Sometimes when we see a horror movie the first thing that comes to our mind should be is how good is the effects and the CGI? Do you do that?

Well, for Heaven's sakes, I do.

I'm a hound dog for special effects. It's CGI in the last decade recently made its debut. I was not at all a fan for it because when it first came out it looked like child's play. Not really believable. Will they ever kill it before it grows? Not at all on the team but when I saw the remake of King Kong directed by Peter Jackson. I accepted the limit it can take a movie. Not how it looks.

You'll slap me but I never got to see Lord of the Rings. I heard a lot of CGI was used there, especially for the landscape. The only thing I don't like about CGI is you can tell CGI was used for a certain scene, leaving off realism. And that's where we have to go back in the drawing board and begin again until we get it right. That's all.

It needs to be refined and tuned, because if it's not, a lot of movie goers will go back to old movies craving for the fantastic taste of the past to relinquish that craving and we don't want that. We want to move on and push forward.

However, special effects, will always be the acceptable means of making a movie feel and look real. Although, there are some movies, famous and not so Horror movies that should have been better made than they should have been and that includes special effects. (That topic is coming up soon so look for it.)

Here at Lavel Wideman's SPFX Corner, it's always going to be the steady hand held that will always be drilled here, for your reading pleasure. Lessons of how-to and what effects works, look for it right here.

Remember keep the steady hand up, eyes focused on the art.
lavelwideman@hotmail.com

Beginning love Special Effects: The Man in the Suit

Beginning love Special Effects: The Man in the Suit

It was the way fire sprayed out of his mouth. It was the way he marched carefully through the large towering cities, watching out for people below. It was the way he fought with numerous enemies, relentlessly coming at him. It was the way he became a hero in the eyes of the Japanese and quite frankly, all over the world.

It was the realism in Godzilla, that made this little girl think that a creature like this ever existed.

Godzilla existed--the television displayed him to be. Show or no show there was a monster who lived way out in sea, and came when his help was needed the most.

As a little girl it was real hard to fathom a creature with a notorious look, yellow menacing eyes, and a jaw full of sharp teeth could be anything but pettable--he was enormous.

Who would have him as a friend?

Many, I know, but I'm on a roll here, okay...

I was scared to death of him. How he fought, how he came from beyond...gigantically arriving on the tiny shores of Japan to bring them victory.

I couldn't rationally put two and two together. However, my mind swirl with how everything felt so real. Real as if to say a man in a suit could contrive such an act--to make me believe with how he made a reptile become a monster in the midst of the living room.

Godzilla, was all an illusion...

That captured me.

It was one night, right after watching Godzilla--it was bath time. Bubbles flew everywhere as my mother puts me in the bathtub: and it was something I said. It was about Godzilla. Godzilla came through to scare me. I forgot what...was it when he fought with Gargatuan or that metal dude: Oh, he was scary. I forget.

But I said over and over something about Godzilla: I was terrified. And to soothe my fear my mother plainly and firmly put, said, "Calm down. Godzilla is a man in a suit."

I looked at this woman as if she fell down and hit her head, hard, on a cemented sidewalk somewhere. Split wide open and everything: brain matter hanging out.
Though, I didn't see no gushing of blood nor a split of a concussion anywhere, nor a droplet. But regardless...

I said, well, I thought to say, remembering, I was in a body of water. What makes me think she couldn't lock the door and snuff out my cries, but fear was fear...

I had to put reality into her head; I said, "Are you crazy, Godzilla is going to kill us!"

"No. Godzilla is a man in a suit."

The bubbles began to flatten, silence began to stir, dreams began to fall like stars but not quite, new ones began to emerge...

What? I said in my little mind. Reality struck me like a brick: a ton or two. Then I put two and two together: You mean a man is inside Godzilla controlling this monster, making him do whatever he whimmed. I couldn't believe it.

I knew I couldn't go to my dad. He would have made the bump on her head worse...
"What?" he would huff, "You tell these kids that Godzilla is a man in a suit. Are you crazy? When we could use this monster, Godzilla, whatever he is, to hold CONTROL over their little minds. Use it as a punishment: keep them in-line," fist clenched tightly.

"And you tell them 'he's a man in a suit.'" He would stand there shaking his head, and give her the look of betrayal.

I couldn't put her through that. I had to save her. But as the bubbles began to flatten so did those things I thought were real.
A man could control a monster.

From there, I not only changed my thinking but Fear of Godzilla was a mere memory. Now only something I can control. Godzilla wasn't tall and looming anymore...but now, I can have control in how a monster can be; I have the control to control IT.

Special Effects has always been my favorite ever since that time in the bathtub. To this day I've always dreamt of becoming one. It was Godzilla who planted the seed. Horror is in my genes. There are things I would like to bring to life. One that I’m currently working on called Homeless Haunts. You can visit my blog there at myspace.com/lavel_thehomelessdrifter. I have high hopes for this. I’m sure you can see that as I write about Poverty and Horror. Try to bring it alive for your reading pleasure.

And if you too, would like to see something from Boot Productions, a donation button will only make it possible. A dollar or two would be wonderful. And if you like to donate bigger, I will be forever grateful for your contribution.
And how wonderful would it be to see how my Special Effects illumines your imagination? Thank you.

Return of the Living Dead

I just finished viewing the Return of the Living Dead for about the 120th time. Not keeping track because I can go on for days and hours looking at this movie. I just am amazed of the talents of the late great director Dan O’Bannon had in creating something like this. What joy I have when raw talent is displayed, especially creating Horror movies, like ROTLD. Can we go on with Mr. Bannon ? In a sad, but a few of us are around for true Horror. But I hope we can.

We can. And we shall.

The special DVD collection is equipped with the “how it all began” and other features including the basis of Horror. Be sure to check them out. Elvira, Joe Dante, Mr. Landis, are all in the special feature categories. Also Tony Timpone, chief editor of Fangoria.

The movie is the one that keeps me company on lonely nights at home. Laughing away at the time when kids can be kids. And grown-ups, well, them too.