John carpenter
12 creative works found
-
Outpost 31 from John Carpenter’s the Thing
-
Pole Smoking Fashion Victims
by Garth JonesWhy are vampires such ponces? This is what vexes Jack Crow. Alpha bastard protagonist of the unremittingly awful ‘John Carpenter’s …
Why are vampires such ponces? This is what vexes Jack Crow. Alpha bastard protagonist of the unremittingly awful ‘John Carpenter’s Vampires’, Jack is an disturbingly ardent commentator when it comes to the vampire rag trade. Yep, when he’s not sucker punching the ladies or swapping smouldering homoerotic glares with the sweatiest Baldwin (Daniel), Jack, Vatican Vampire Slayer and Misogynist Extraordinaire, plays second rate (if there could feasibly be such a thing) Kyle Sandilands to a procession of disturbingly attired plasma quaffers. Which is a hoot, really, considering Jack appears to be in possession of the second last pair of elastic waisted acid wash jeans in existence (more on that soon). Not to mention his man-crush, greasy lard bucket Dan, who sports a saucy nehru vest/ prodigous chest carpet combo. Long before Jack’s fanged nemesis Valek (see ‘V’, Vampire Central Casting Guide, 1998) scrambled from ‘neath some unconsecrated bog, naff, style challenged creatures of the night proliferated. Cinematically speaking, first out of the cemetery gate was Nosferatu’s nattily attired rat-pire take on the Fu Manchu fingernails with topcoat look. Sadly, Bela Lugosi, next cab off the Dracula rank, proved far more influential, being the progenitor of the the ludicrous tic (a quizzically arched eyebrow, nigh on seventy years before a certain Mr Dwayne Johnson), poncy cape flourish and excessive pomade abuse. This ‘dapper exsanguinator’ look stuck, unfortunately. For decades, the coiff was the only facet of the vamp look open to interpretation. Christopher Lee added a spot of distinguished grey temple action to the mix; and even Blacula managed only a mini-fro and handlebar variation. Then, along skulks Anne bloody (see that?) Rice, who inflicts contemporary vampire with a penchant for bouncy Pantened bobs and flouncing about aristocratically in frilly shirts. Madam Rice, Queen of Pain, engineered a disturbing trend- and not just the brooding, ‘woe is me’ introspection of those ‘damned to the eternal midnight’ bollocks. Guffawing archly in the face of hairdressers’ livelihoods the world over, Rice unveiled the flaxen-locked Ritchie Blackmore variation; hair weaves were now de rigeur for the more follicularly challenged amongst the nightcrawler set. Thus was born a bold, cranky new era in vampire style. Where once a slicked back barnet would suffice, the undead were now free to indulge in an entirely new universe of tacky hairstyling options: enter the spiky mullet, the classic goth sweepback, various permutations of the Jedi topknot, and that perennial favorite, the Lionel Ritchie jheri curl. With this bold unfettering of hairstyling parameters came a similar quantam shift in our immortal chums’ attitude to general sartorial presentation. Tired old evening wear and camp artifice were given the heave-ho in favour of exploring the full gamut of ocular nerve-combusting contemporary fashion. Of particular note is warbler Rick Springfield, feebly essaying the role of testicularly compromised LAPD detective Nick Knight, who daringly combined THE last pair of acid washed high pants in existence with a fetchingly tight gentlemen’s perm. Joel Schumacher, staking further claim on the mantle of cinematic anti-Christ, decks his Lost Boys out in oversize fluorescent happy pants, RATT bouffants and oily, bleached mullets. In a similar, ah, vein, Fran Rubel Kuzui’s crass cinematic abortion ‘Buffy’ envisioned entirely unterrifying, web earred ex-90210 disasters, showcasing Rutger Hauer with a blonde, wispy kiddie fiddler’s mo. Let’s not even mention Paul Reubens… Okay, then. Of even greater social import than Joel Schumacher’s role in the continual reduction of cultural standards were the very real issues addressed by those poor blood guzzling homeless soulless. Nomak (Blade 2) while surprisingly not shit (considering his boy band pedigree), best exemplifies vampire ‘shabby chic’, while special mention must go to Preacher’s Cassidy, who possibly IS the embalmed, ambulatory corpse of Shane MacGowan- enshrouded in denim, whisky vapors and toxic levels of Irishness. The few remaining vamps, those exhibiting a modicum of self respect and savoire faire, fall loosely into two camps. First- those nasty, rebellious Sid Vicious types, best exemplified by the brutal trailer park bastards in Near Dark or Spike from out of Sir Joss Whedon’s Buffy telly series. These scrappy fashionistas of the enhanced canine set are generally on intimate terms with the proprietor of the local leather clearing house; proponents of the look include the squishy, easy beat biker vamps of From Dusk Till Dawn, whose ranks, puzzlingly, include classic cinematic hard men of the calibre of Harvey Keitel, Danny Trejo and Fred Williamson. On the fringe of this movement are the full blown fetishists- leather licking badarses of the ilk of Morbius The Living Vampire, The Master, and Kate Beckinsale’s posterior in UnderWorld. Then, and the numbers are thin to say the least, there are those brand savvy, metrosexual vamps who populate Sir Joss’ Angel. All tasteful Armani and matching earth tones, they’re preening, hair fiddling nancy boys in extremis, generally conveniently heretofore-unmentioned twinks sired by metro-gene originator Angel. While Stephen Dorff’s Deacon Frost (Blade) slots firmly into the metro-vamp category, careful academic scrutiny has concluded that he is, in fact, just a big girl. So: it would be safe to say that, given his druthers, Mr Crow would cheerfully cold cock, berate and rudely castigate his way through legion upon legion of immortal types, gruffly dispensing dubious advice on how best to maintain troublesome bleach-dried hair, remove those pesky blood stains from pirate shirts, or efficiently tuck that package when slipping into some pre-talced leather strides. Queer Eye For The Undead Guy, anyone?
-
A little something from one of my absolute favorite horror/thrillers, “The Thing.” Decapitated heads growing spider legs, crazy blood tests, and it all takes place in the middle of a frozen nowhere. It just doesn’t get any better than this film.
-
I was the official “Vanna” at the Bram Stoker awards banquet of the Horror Writers Association. Here, John Carpenter’s friend, Del Howison, is accepting Mr. Carpenter’s “Lifetime Achievement Award” from me. ☺ This was during the 2008 World Horror Convention in Salt Lake City, Utah. Barely visible in the background is author Gary Braunbeck. (obviously, I didn’t shoot this photo ☺)
-
These eyes will deceive you, they will destroy you. They will take from you, your innocence, your pride, and eventually your soul. These eyes do not see what you and I see. Behind these eyes one finds only blackness, the absence of light, these are the eys of a psychopath. / Dr Samuel Loomis, psychologist. The story of Michael Myers as it was revived in 2007 Pencils, charcoal and pastel colours.
-
Born and raised in Haddonfield, Illinois, to Ron and Edith Myers. He had an older sister, Judith, and a younger one named Laurie. / On October 31st, 1963, a Halloween night, Michael dressed as a clown grabs a large, sharp kitchen knife, puts his clown mask on and sneaks up on his naked older sister who slowly combs her hair sitting in front of her bedroom mirror. Her boyfriend Steve had just left the house promising he would call her the day after. Michael viciously attacks Judith, repeatedly stabbing her until he kills her. Minutes later his parents find him standing in front of the house staring blankly into space, knife in hand, covered in blood. / This became the start of a series of murders that went on during the years that followed and after Michael escaped Smith’s Grove Mental Hospital. / This was the beginning of that chilling story called Halloween. Pencil, charcoal and ink.
-
I met him, fifteen years ago. I was told there was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong. I met this six-year-old child, with this blank, pale, emotionless face and, the blackest eyes... the devil’s eyes. I spent eight years trying to reach him, and then another seven trying to keep him locked up because I realized what was living behind that boy’s eyes was purely and simply… evil. / (Dr Sam Loomis, Psychologist, Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, 1978) Inks
-
Halloween franchise consists not only from its famous films but also from novels and comic books, highly recommended to any Halloween and Michael Myers fan. / This image is mostly inspired by these comics and less by the films… Inks
-
I watched him for fifteen years, sitting in a room, staring at a wall, not seeing the wall, looking past the wall – looking at this night, inhumanly patient, waiting for some secret, silent alarm to trigger him off. Death has come to your little town, Sheriff. Now you can either ignore it, or you can help me to stop it. / (Dr Sam Loomis, Psychologist, Haddonfield, 1978) Inks
-
These eyes will deceive you, they will destroy you. They will take from you, your innocence, your pride, and eventually your soul. These eyes do not see what you and I see. Behind these eyes one finds only blackness, the absence of light, these are of a psychopath. / (Dr Sam Loomis, Psychologist, Haddonfield, 2007) Inks
-
Inks and acrylics
RedBubble is a great place to find art, design, photos and writing from over 80,000 talented people.
You can buy their stuff
On stunning greeting cards, awesome t-shirts or beautiful prints to hang on your walls.
Risk Free Returns
It’s really simple. If you’re not happy with your purchase for any reason, we’ll fix it.
About RedBubble
Since February 2007 we’ve shipped over 332,500 items to more than 70 countries around the world.
Join In
Sign up for your free account, upload your work, join some groups and share your creative genius with the world.