Vegetable Magnetism

By Daniel Riccuito with David Cairns

Art by Tony Millionaire

Vengeance is a tool for the powerless.

And what better revenge could a 1930s movie-going public muster than the absurdist act of turning stars into nourishment?  Take that vision of hate and spittle, Ned Sparks, pulling faces never before seen on the front of a human head. Sparks was the Great Depression’s favorite specialty item: a purple carrot.

Arguably a sweet onion, Frank McHugh had bone-weary audiences drooling in the aisles.

John Litel made a fine rutabaga.

Hand-carved parsnip, Edward Everett Horton, gave our pre-Code vegetable garden nuance.  But mainly we craved cartoon food — entertainment that mixed problem-solving and problem-salving for a seventy-five to eighty-minute span. We liked excitable, doughy screen personas as stand-ins that brought our truth to new lows.

Coming Soon!

Pat O’Brien as Spud.

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Steele Herself

A Barbara Steele selfie.

Apparently never-learning, I have co-authored another article on Miss Steele with Daniel Riccuito, although when told the piece was up at The Notebook I couldn’t remember contributing anything to it. What does Peter Weller say in NAKED LUNCH when presented with his book? “Truly I suspect some colossal con.” Or a small con, in this case.

But there it is in black and white — the synopsis of BLACK SUNDAY’s opening scene is mine, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. The rest of the piece, needless to say, is excellent, classic Riccuito delirium.

Here.

Optic Nervousness

I’m one of several contributors, with Daniel Riccuito, Jennifer Matsui and Tom Sutpen, to another piece over at The Chiseler — a collaboration where even I can’t tell which parts I wrote. Points to anyone who identifies a Cairns sentence correctly. I may not be the idiosyncratic genius we always thought — or maybe Daniel, Jennifer and Tom are too? Yes, I prefer that explanation.

I won’t say what it’s about — you may have to decide for yourself. But I will say that it’s here.