THE BLACK ALBUM: A Hollywood Horror Story (9 page)

While once researching Satanic
mythology, the filmmaker had read about a holy relic called the
Lapis
Exilii.
The rough translation for this from the Latin was the
stone of
exile.
This was said to be a jewel from the crown of Lucifer lost during
the battle in Heaven. That's how Loveless chose to see the Devil: as a
dissenter, a traitorous rebel lost in sin, flesh, and earthly desire. The first
fallen angel. How God must have wept at the betrayal. The Devil was also a
reneger. When Jeremy Jared and the band members of Mathaluh performed the
ceremony to sell their souls to Hell for the price of a thirteen year old girl,
Satan tricked them. They wanted fame. He gave them infamy. The kind of legend
one only achieved when one died a fiery death at the threshold of what could have
been a brilliant career. Also, in a sense, the Devil gave them immortality. For
generations to come, people would listen to Mathaluh's music and talk about
what could have become of the band, had they lived.

Loveless could just see a
backstory scene playing out in Hell. In the filmmaker's eyes he saw Hell not as
a pit of fire, but as a surreal void: one endless, disjointed, sickening,
perverted dream; an ever-changing landscape that metamorphosed from one
nightmare into another as more souls joined. In this backstory, the Devil, upon
hearing the sound of singing coming from the bowels of his kingdom, is first
amused, then fascinated with the brooding, restless Jeremy whose angry angelic
voice rings out, exclaiming his melancholy and discontent. This fascination
becomes desire, bordering on a near homosexual relationship. The Devil
eventually wants to take Jeremy's pain away, so he gives him a way back into
the world of the living, if he can corrupt another soul into murdering in his
name. The music would bring the demon Jeremy back to earth, the murdered corpse
of another would keep him there. The demon Jeremy would be less a soulless
automaton like
Michael
or
Jason
and more akin to the evil and
seductive Pinhead character in Clive Barker's "Hellraiser" movies. In
that series, those who played a sinister puzzle box would be cast into a Hell
of torture chambers, where they would be transformed into hideous
sadomasochistic Cenobites.

  In the demon Jeremy's eyes,
Grace Lynn was the perfect surrogate for his re-entrance into this world. In
her body, with her beautiful and alluring voice, Jeremy could have another shot
at the fame and fortune he was short-changed of all those years ago. His
supernatural manipulations of the woman thus far had caused her to return home
on this day, caused her to find the album. Getting her to play the Dark Ballad
backwards and slay her own sister or some other hapless soul would be child's
play.

In the context of the movie, the
demon Jeremy would be more a presence than a full-blown entity, glimpsed only
in shadows, mirrors, fog, or dreams. He would be a whisper, rather than a word.
His voice would come through others momentarily possessed to carry out deeds
leading to Grace's manipulation and possession.

This creature was also capable of
using the dead. He would re-animate corpses from the outlaw cemetery Lord's
Lane to inhabit the woods around the Lynn house to keep the humans inside
prisoner for the night. These prisoners would include Grace, Katie, and
Russell. While they're locked inside, the demon Jeremy would have an entire
night to enthrall or trick Grace into killing in his name.

But Grace would have otherworldly
allies of her own who want to help her fight the creature. These confederates
are the ghosts of the boy Henry and the lost girl who was murdered by Mathaluh
to fulfill their pact with Hell. 

The filmmaker had his build up.
It was now time to release hell on earth. But it was just as important to
Loveless not just to make a good horror movie, but to explore the boundaries of
human nature and man's capacity for violence and corruption.

The filmmaker struggled greatly
with whether or not to let Grace give into the darkness and embrace evil or
fight it to the very end, even if it meant her demise. Throughout the story, she
is cajoled by the unseen deejay, whose voice lives on
ghost radio
and
the demon Jeremy, sometimes speaking through Katie, Russell or one of the
walking corpses she encounters. This evil even begins to torment the singer by
sarcastically calling her 'amazing Grace' after the Christian hymn. The irony
is that the hymn is about forgiveness and redemption regardless of the sins
you've committed throughout your life.

In the end, the filmmaker decided
to let Grace rise to the occasion and renounce evil. The singer rallies against
the demon Jeremy even after he tricks her into believing she has killed Russell
and is about to take her own life to keep the creature from possessing her
body. In the final confrontation, moments before sunrise, Grace turns the tables
on the demon Jeremy and tricks him.

Grace stands before the demon
Jeremy as he slithers back into the shadow of the forest, which is growing
smaller with each passing second as the sun rises. His army of rotting corpses
have already climbed back into their misbegotten graves.   

"You can't scare me anymore,
Jeremy. I know the truth now. And all evil really is weakness."

"Slut."

"You lose."

"See you next
Halloween."

"No. You won't."

But the demon Jeremy is already
gone, fading with the last shadow as sunlight signals the start of a new day.
With every new day is new hope, a second chance. Rebirth.

Grace stands in front of the
fireplace. In the roaring blaze, we see both the record album and the Hell
board as they are consumed. Behind the singer, on the couch, Katie sleeps
peacefully, recovering from the ordeal. Grace turns on the radio. The song
"Amazing Grace" is playing. Grace begins to sing along, "Amazing
Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now
am found, was blind, but now I see-"

FADE TO BLACK. End credits roll.

Loveless closed the laptop,
exhausted, elated. He looked out the window. The sunlight was blinding. It was
the start of a new day, filled with new possibilities. He had worked completely
through the night. The filmmaker, although tired, was wired. There was no way
he could sleep.  

Loveless drove to Starbucks.
Carla was working the counter as he ordered.

“Killer party, Loveless.”

“WHAT?” the filmmaker replied in
complete alarm as she handed him his drink. Shades of the nightmare party of
weeks earlier returned to him, along with the accompanying fear. He still
didn't know if it had really happened or not. He had almost convinced himself
that it hadn't. This jolted him.

“I said, want something to eat with
this?”

Loveless whispered low, “Did you
come over to- ? How- Did you- ?” His words trailed off as feelings of
foolishness rose up. What if he had dreamt it? Carla was looking at him puzzled
as he left.

Outside the supermarket, Loveless
saw Lizzy standing next to a shopping cart full of groceries. She hadn’t seen
him yet. The filmmaker approached slowly. “Lizzy, I’m glad I ran into you. Do
you know where I live? Did you come by my place?”

"Of course."

The filmmaker's heart began to
beat faster.

"Trick-or-treating,"
the girl continued.

"No. I mean a few weeks
ago."

Before the teen could answer, an
old Bronco truck backed into the parking space in front of them. Lizzy looked
at Loveless with eyes that seemed to warn him off his present line of
questioning. A pretty brunette woman in her early thirties got out the truck to
load the groceries Lizzy had been babysitting into the vehicle. The woman
looked at the filmmaker.

“J.D., this is my mom,” Lizzy
said.

The woman smiled at Loveless,
“Hi. I’m Charlotte.”

Chapter
Four

Werewolves
of Rim Forest and Other Cast & Crew

It turned out Charlotte Rae and
Lizzy Rae were also transplants from Los Angeles. Charlotte, a young mom - she
had Lizzy when she was only sixteen - was divorced and had been raising her
daughter on the West side. That was until Lizzy started running with a bad
crowd. Charlotte had a cozy little vacation condo in Lake Arrowhead left over
from the divorce. She liked the small town atmosphere and made the decision to
move her daughter to the mountains. Charlotte - who had come to Los Angeles
from a small town in Northern California with aspirations of being an actress -
currently made a living in sales, which she could do from pretty much anywhere.
Once a month she had to drive to Los Angeles to meet with clients personally.
Other than that, she could do most of her work via phone and Internet.
Charlotte was quizzical, bright and had a very outgoing nature.

“So, you met Lizzy hitchhiking,”
the young mother deduced instantly. Before Loveless could fumble up a lame
defense, Charlotte added, “My daughter doesn’t accept rides from most men. She
must think highly of you. Have kids?” The young mother was thinking he must be
a family man.

“No. It’s just me.”

The mother's eyebrows furrowed.
“Only people up here are rich retirees and small town hicks. You’re young,
single, and
city
. Talk about a fish out of water. What the hell are you
doing on this mountain?” Charlotte was bold and theatrical.

Loveless decided to be just as
bold and theatrical. “I came here to make a horror movie.” Charlotte giggled
seductively. “You do know I’m an actress, right?”

The conversation was quickly
cascading into a delightful little Rom-com, the filmmaker decided fleetingly.

“Have a script?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Three days after Loveless had
given Charlotte a hard copy of the screenplay, she showed up on his doorstep
while he was replacing the last few rungs on his deathtrap of a staircase.
Charlotte was clutching the manuscript to her chest.

“Can I buy you lunch?”

“How’d you know where I live?”

“Small mountain.”

"So I've heard."

The filmmaker had written enough
screenplays in his time to know that you never knew how it was going to go.
Sometimes you pour your heart and soul into a script you think is an opus to
all mankind, and people slam it as tripe, boring, blasé. Other times you pull
some piece of shit out your ass for a hard nose indie producer and they think
it’s “Gone With the Wind.” You just never knew, especially with women readers.
That’s why Loveless sat down with some trepidation at the table in the
restaurant diner across from Charlotte. He couldn’t read her poker face as she
sat back in the booth.

“I loved it,” Charlotte said
earnestly with some emphasis as she laid the screenplay on the table. She was
bursting to get that out.

“Wow,” was all the wordsmith
could come back with.

“Really. I even got Lizzy to read
it, and you know kids these days. They never read anything. Not only did she
read it, she loved it. And that girl's a harsh critic. She’s been telling all
her friends.”

“Your daughter gets a lot of
credit. It was inspired by local urban legend. Lizzy turned me on to it.”

“I know. That’s what’s so great
about it. Those sonovabitch studio assholes are always knocking indie films,
complaining,
‘It’s artistic and brilliant. It’s just not very commercial.
Won’t play well in theaters.’
Well this will.”

“You know about the industry?”

“My ex is a talent manager. Know
all about it.” Charlotte shook her head. “Man, it’s such a good script. Such a
simple story with such a complex and compelling leading character. Grace Lynn.
I love her. Creating a hero who has leaned closer to Hell than Heaven
throughout her whole life is so different. A woman who was always just a little
bit evil. Then, when she inadvertently releases Hell from the album and the
forces of evil think it’s a given that she will side with darkness, Grace
chooses goodness. The light. And that line she says to the demon Jeremy at the
end, before she sends him back to hell:
‘I know the truth now. And all evil
really is, is weakness.’
Oh my God. I love that line!”

“Wow.”

“For a writer, you sure don’t
have much of a vocabulary. Just kidding. Please tell me you haven’t cast the
Grace role yet.” Charlotte giggled when she was nervous.

“I just finished the script a few
days ago. You’re actually the first one to take a look at it.”

“Incredible. I’d love to read for
the role of Grace.” Charlotte read the filmmaker’s sudden apprehension, “Don’t
worry. I studied in LA. And I’m good. It was just- Lizzy came along. My priorities
shifted.”

At that moment, Loveless’
directing vision kicked in. He took a long hard look at Charlotte. It made her
momentarily feel like a bug under a microscope. Well, she was the right age
range for the character. Physically she was what the filmmaker saw in his
mind's-eye when he envisioned Grace. Actually, truth be told, she was perfect.
Her life seemed in many ways to mirror that of the character's history in the
sense of putting away her dreams to return to humbler beginnings. That would help
her identify with the role. She was also innocent and worldly at the same time.
Both good and evil. Charlotte was perfect for the character, if she could act.

“Audition me. I won’t
disappoint.”

“Here?”

“Of course not. And not at my
place either. My daughter’s friends are always over.” Loveless wanted to
suggest his place, but he didn’t want to come off like a sleazy Hollywood scum
bag.

“What about your place?”
Charlotte piped in.

They ran dialogue all afternoon
at the filmmaker’s cabin home. He was not disappointed. Charlotte threw the
dialogue away naturally, didn’t
indicate
(the overuse of hand movements
that was the telltale sign of the amateur actor) and was extremely direct-able.
Her insight into the character from a women’s perspective even had Loveless
making notes for dialogue tweaks. Lastly, she had that one final ingredient
casting directors search high and low for. Charlotte had an
it factor
,
that indescribable quality that makes people want to watch an actor or actress.
This quality had nothing to do with acting ability. It was just an inherent
something. Emma Stone had it. So did Brad Pitt and Keira Knightley.

With the script done, Loveless
went into producing mode. He was more comfortable in the role of artist,
writer, director. But he had learned the hard way from various short films he
had directed, that if you didn't have a big hand in production, it would effect
the end product. When he wasn't breaking down the script from a production
point of view, shot-listing, and storyboarding each and every shot in each and
every scene, and scouting potential local locations, the filmmaker spent every
waking moment trying to raise money for the film. His ideal budget was 100K.
That budget wouldn’t go far in Los Angeles, where everyone was overly savvy and
wanted top dollar. But here he knew he could get locations and local cast and
crew dirt cheap. These were the mountains after all. Some of the key actors he
would cast out of LA. He needed experienced players. The filmmaker was happy he
didn't have to go through the Hollywood name game (trying to find recognizable
actors who would play a cameo or supporting role in a tiny film). Those days
ended with the straight-to-video DVD era and foreign market pre-sales.
Nowadays, you had to create a tiny little micro-budget gem and either get into
a film festival like Sundance or attract a studio whale to get behind your
movie as an executive producer and have your film released theatrically. An
example of this was the movie "Paranormal Activity," which had spawned
a number of sequels and imitators. Loveless disliked the 'found footage' and
video film crew documentary style horror movies. To him they were all shock
value, improv, little artistry, and never had a satisfying pay-off at the end
of the movie. But the studios loved them. Small investment, big profit.
"The Blair Witch Project" was made for north of fifty thousand
dollars and made over a hundred million. "Paranormal" was made for
even less and made even more. In Studio Hollywood, success was equated with box
office dollars. Which was understandable. At the end of the day, movie-making
was about making money. Who was Loveless to argue with this hierarchy? It was a
marriage of art and commerce. He just didn't like the way commerce had so
fanatically strangled the life out of the art in the business today. That's why
today there were two hundred million dollar films being released that were
total pieces of shit. The
suits
were running the show now and telling
the artists how to make movies. The filmmaker once had a manager who would get
him meetings with veepees of development at studio companies. The filmmaker
would become frustrated when referencing movies to them and receiving blank
stares. They didn't know what the hell he was talking about. They had never seen
Fellini, or Keaton or brilliant old classics like "Casablanca,"
"The Grapes of Wrath" or "Sunset Boulevard." Their film
knowledge went back no further than "E.T." These young snot-nosed
execs, who were running movie companies and making decisions about which films
would get made and which films wouldn't, knew nothing about movies.     

Loveless gradually drifted away
from these meetings. He was interested in making art with little compromise. If
that meant he also had to take on the role of producer to get his films made,
so be it. And this meant raising money. Loveless went to all his sources,
including one he was positive would have jumped at it. Nobody bit. It had
nothing to do with the quality of the script. It was the economy, which had
taken a nasty downswing. The filmmaker went into severe depression. It just
wasn’t fair. Here was the perfect vehicle for his freshman outing as a
full-fledged filmmaker and he couldn’t raise the money. Loveless remained in
this funk until he heard a knock on his front door. It was Charlotte and her
daughter Lizzy.

“Haven’t heard from you in
awhile. Just making sure you’re still alive.”

“Hey, Charlotte, Lizzy. Come on
in.”

Lizzy wandered around, making
herself at home, while Charlotte studied Loveless.

“What’s wrong? Figured you’d be
busy making preparations.”

“I was. Truth is, I’m having
trouble raising money for the film.”

“Oh no,” Charlotte said with
genuine concern.

“Had this one little horror
distribution company I was sure was going to fund it. I know the owner well. He
knows my work. He’s seen me shoot. We had been talking about doing a small art
house horror film together for awhile now. But he just sunk a lot of money into
a project shooting in South Africa that’s going way over budget. Now they're
stuck putting more money into it. They're in too deep to cut their losses. So
they have to keep throwing gasoline on the fire.”

"Sucks." Charlotte
thought for a bit, “How much do you need?"

“One hundred thousand is what
I’ve been looking for. That would take care of everything.”

“Well, no promises, but I do have
a cousin in Palm Springs who just inherited a bunch of money from his
grandmother who passed away a few months ago. He’s looking for things to invest
in and he’s interested in movies. The only thing is that he recently got out of
rehab. But he’s clean and sober now and I think if he had something to focus
on, he’d surprise people with how well he could do.” Charlotte wasn’t a drinker
or a druggie, although she did smoke cigarettes when stressed.

“I have no problem with
recovering addicts. They make up about seventy percent of the film industry.
You think he’d want to invest?”

“I think he’d love the script. He
and I have the same tastes. He might invest if he was a hands on producer and
he knows I’m playing the lead.”

“Does he know anything about
producing?”

“He’s a sharp businessman and
good at negotiating, like me.”

The filmmaker thought out loud,
“I've produced enough short films that I know what I’m

doing. A producing partner who
brings the finances and knows how to haggle might not be a bad thing. Should we
go see him?”

“Hell no! He’s a snowboarder.
Passes through this way on the way to Big Bear every other week. We’ll get him
to stop here. I’ll set it up. But it’s going to be up to you to
spin the
spiel and seal the deal.”

“What’s his name?”

“Donovan.”

Donovan arrived three days later
with short hair dyed bright blond and a deep fried tan. A snowboard was
sticking up out of the sunroof of his late model Beamer
.
Donovan was
good looking, friendly, smart, and gave off an affable vibe. All the key
ingredients of a successful Hollywood producer. Charlotte was good at matching
the right person to the right job. The three of them met at the filmmaker’s
place. Loveless made the pitch over drinks. Charlotte added color commentary.