HDTGM: A Conversation With Randall Frakes, Writer/Producer Of ‘Hell Comes To Frogtown’
By Blake Harris/May 13, 2016 11:00 am EST
We may receive a commission on purchases made from links. In 1978, a pair of young, wannabe filmmakers made a 12-minute, 35mm short called Xenogenesis. One of those wannabes was a visionary artist by the name of James Cameron. The other—who Cameron calls “the best kept secret in Hollywood”—was a precocious storyteller by the name of Randall Frakes. Over the following four decades, the two have collaborated on several projects. But one project that did not collaborate on—though they came close to doing so—was a subversive, sci-fi B-movie called Hell Comes to Frogtown. That one was written solely by Randall Frakes, though the final film stayed significantly from his initial vision. To figure out what happened, I spoke with Randall Frakes about cyborgs-turned-assassins, wrestlers-turned-actors and the underappreciated unity of opposites.
HDTGM: A Conversation With Randall Frakes, Writer/Producer Of ‘Hell Comes To Frogtown’
By Blake Harris/May 13, 2016 11:00 am EST
We may receive a commission on purchases made from links. In 1978, a pair of young, wannabe filmmakers made a 12-minute, 35mm short called Xenogenesis. One of those wannabes was a visionary artist by the name of James Cameron. The other—who Cameron calls “the best kept secret in Hollywood”—was a precocious storyteller by the name of Randall Frakes. Over the following four decades, the two have collaborated on several projects. But one project that did not collaborate on—though they came close to doing so—was a subversive, sci-fi B-movie called Hell Comes to Frogtown. That one was written solely by Randall Frakes, though the final film stayed significantly from his initial vision. To figure out what happened, I spoke with Randall Frakes about cyborgs-turned-assassins, wrestlers-turned-actors and the underappreciated unity of opposites.
We may receive a commission on purchases made from links.
Hell Comes to Frogtown Oral History
My only real complaint is that Kizer was not enthusiastic about his shot to direct. Directing any movie requires total commitment and all your energy and imagination. And he seemed to be giving half. But maybe that was all he had to give. It could have been worse, I now realize, so I have to appreciate the effort he mounted. And I wouldn’t have wanted to direct that movie.
Blake Harris: [laughing] And how did “Rowdy” Roddy Piper get targeted to star in the film? Was it hard to get him for the project?Randall Frakes: Generally speaking, it is not difficult to get any actor (star or not) to do any role—even the most stupid ones—if you simply offer them enough money. The history of cinema proves this over and over again.Blake Harris: Ha. True.Randall Frakes: Rowdy was not my choice. I wrote the Sam Hell part to be played by a motormouth comedian like Tim Thomerson. Someone with the wry, dry delivery of a Jack Nicholson. A smartass. An unlikely action hero. But the idea at New World was to put a wrestler in the main role because I Like To Hurt People had done so well for them. So, because of New World’s wrestler fetish, they wanted a wrestler. Rowdy wanted to be a movie star and get out of beating on—or getting beat on by—Hulk Hogan.Blake Harris: Did you find his performance to be as bad as you’d feared?Randall Frakes: Well, the first time I see him, I think: Oh god, that’s the doom of the movie. The guy’s a mushmouth, he can barely speak He won’t be able to say the dialogue! But like Schwarzenegger in True Lies [a film Frakes helped write], he rose to the challenge. He got an acting coach and took the assignment super-seriously. He turned out to be charming in the role. And he got better and better the more he worked. I do have to give the other director, Mr. Sound Editing Molasses, credit for patiently working with Roddy Piper to get the performance he did. He was not a bad choice for Sam Hell, as it turned out. He was not perfect, but close to it. I miss him and wished he could have stuck around for the Frogtown remake. But, as Kurt Vonnegut was fond of saying, so it goes…Part 5: So It Goes…Blake Harris: Given the creative differences on Hell Comes to Frogtown, what did you think of the final cut?Randall Frakes: The first and only time I ever saw the movie with an audience—prior to a couple of months ago—was on the old MGM lot in Culver City. The Cary Grant screening room. The audience was made up of the crew and some of the cast, and the movie dropped like a 10-ton stone into mud. I hated the movie. Hated it. Looking at it was like staring at a wrecked career. My friend William Wisher—who I mentioned earlier, and who was amazed my dopey script even got made—came up to me afterward and said, “I’m sorry they screwed up your movie, Randy.” That was the nail in the coffin.Blake Harris: Damn…Randall Frakes: But I must also say that a few months ago, when the Cinefamily Theater here in L.A. did a one-night Rowdy Roddy Piper memorial screening of They Live and Hell Comes to Frogtown, the audience seemed to get all the jokes as intended. They were extremely appreciative and enthusiastic in their response. So, despite all the ruinous stuff that happened to compromise Frogtown, it evidently still hits the mark well enough for some people who like weird and funny stuff to enjoy. For that, I am grateful. And producing that movie was a huge learning experience (mostly about what not to do!), an on-the-job training that has helped me navigate this silly business and the people who presume to run it.Blake Harris: Well, before we finish, let’s try and take the business out of movies for moment. At the heart of almost everything you’ve said—be it articles in the Army, co-inventing Xenogenesis, bringing Hell to Frogtown or anything else—is story. Everyone knows that story is important, but learning the craft is a tricky thing. So I was wondering —for a young screenwriter or filmmaker out there—how you might suggest they learn about and hone the craft of storytelling?Randall Frakes: Based on watching James Cameron craft his scripts (and sometimes crafting them with him), I would say to use his two credos: One, good enough isn’t, and two, break new ground. And I would add that placing your story in an unusual and amazing locale helps. But more than any of those things, the real key is conflict. You must have personifications of conflicting ideas that have universal resonance. A conflict that will be gripping to almost every person on this planet. There are several sub-strategies that help you do this. A compelling main character who the audience loves and bonds with intensely. Even better is the biggest, baddest, most clever villain you can think of. A good villain makes for a good movie, because it generates intense conflict. Two worlds must be in collision. And those two worlds must be personified in characters. Not just abstractions.Blake Harris: What do you mean?Randall Frakes: For example: In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Romeo represents romantic love in the extreme. Juliet represents an innocent beauty to be loved. Their speeches and actions are models of the attitudes, emotions and themes that they represent. Tybalt hates. Mercutio is reason and humor, which turn out not to be effective weapons against hate, which is kept going by the long family feud between the Capulets and the Montagues. So, if the premise of that play is “love overcomes hate”—which it is, since in the final scene both families have put aside their hatred to bury their children whose love for each other is a shame on their parents’ petty hate—then every single character must represent one side of the equation or the other. A story without this clash of ideas personified in its characters is going to bore the pants off of Hollywood readers and producers. An even more obvious example is Jim’s Terminator. Sarah Connor is pregnant in the last part of the movie. She is a pregnant woman (life) fighting to defeat the cyborg killer (implacable death). Life defeats death, essentially, when Sarah smashes the killer machine in a metal press. She terminates death. She is creative woman, with the power of new life in her belly. This is called “unity of opposites.” It is an organic way to make sure there is intense enough conflict in your story.Blake Harris: That’s great, Randy. Thank you.Randall Frakes: The only other advice I can give is keep it fast, keep it simple—by which I mean keep each scene simple, though the overall effect can be complex—and keep it relatively short. Them’s my two cents.
