Archive for the ‘The Devil’s Music’ Category

Well, the year’s nearly done.

It’s been stupidly eventful, stupidly exciting and, at some points, just flat out stupid.

I started the year by hosting a new live show before premiering my new movie (Jinx Media’s first full feature since 2007) and then destroying the master copy (and back-up) live on stage. Which was a busy way to kick things off.

Ever since that eventful January, people have been asking about House on the Witchpit and where it’s going from here. People have also asked over and over again whether I really destroyed the master copy, to which the answer is yes. The film that screened at Horror on Sea no longer exists in that form. The footage still exists, of course, and will resurface in a radically different format in 2017. Tickets will be going onsale soon.

Witchpit hasn’t been the only major development at Jinx in 2016, of course. We launched our new VOD site and managed to get our whole back catalogue of features up on VOD. The death of physical media as a viable means of distribution has continued at terrifying speed, but happily coincided with us getting the rights back to a lot of our older movies (for which we’d signed 10 or 7 year distribution contracts).

Some of these were straightforward, some of them were (cough) a little bit less so. Either way, all four of our original features are now available online in one form or another. Here’s the way it breaks down:

trashhouse_2016

TRASHHOUSE is now available via Amazon Prime in the original cut. This was our first movie, and it’s nice to get it back out into the world. It’s possibly fair to say that time hasn’t been kind to the visuals, but in terms of delivering a slightly mad midnight movie on a tiny budget, I reckon it holds up pretty well. TrashHouse was originally released on DVD in the UK (once in 2006 and once in 2007), but the US release was somewhat torpedoed after the movie got pirated on a scale that was somewhat ridiculous for such a modest flick. I always thought that TrashHouse might end up being the only film I’d ever get to direct, so I crammed an awful lot of things that I thought were cool into it. Except mole people. I’ve never found a way to fit them in. But they’re cool, aren’t they?

HELLBRIDE is also available on Amazon Prime. At least, it usually is. Amazon pulled it last weekend (along with THE DEVIL’S MUSIC) because of HELLBRIDE POSTER FINAL ssome undefined issue with the artwork. It’ll hopefully be back up by now, but it can also be purchased via Vimeo if you’d prefer (or if the Amazon listing disappears again). Hellbride remains a romantic comedy at heart, but one that just happens to have a fair amount of splatter and supernatural mayhem along the way. It was originally released on DVD in the UK and the US, and we were pleased to have the rights revert to us. Hellbride was actually the second movie that we shot, although it was the third to be released (KillerKiller beat it to release by the best part of a year). It was also the most fun I’ve ever had on a movie set. Still.

Battlefield Death Tales and more...

KILLERKILLER is NOT yet available on Amazon Prime, due a pesky certification issue which we hope we’ll be able to sort out before too long. Nonetheless, it’s available in the lovely, shiny 2014 Director’s Cut via our lovely friends at Vimeo, together with a bonus ‘look back’ video. This movie was our third to go in front of the camera, back during the long crazy summer of 2006. We shot chunks of it in a haunted asylum , which was fun, and it got released all over the world on DVD (EXCEPT in the UK) before coming back home to us. I’ve got a whole shelf full of DVD releases of KillerKiller. My favourite is the Russian dub, where the same dude does all the voices (including the women).

The Devil's Music

Like Hellbride, THE DEVIL’S MUSIC should be available from Amazon Prime (free to subscribers) but has experienced the same issues as Hellbride regarding the listing disappearing due to unknown issues with the artwork. Fingers crossed, you should be able to watch it right here, but if not then boogie on over to the Vimeo version  which includes hours of bonus features, including the somewhat notorious ‘Director’s Breakdown’ commentary. Nine years on from filming it, I’m still pretty damn proud of The Devil’s Music. It’s a horror rock documentary, and there aren’t many of them around. This version, like KillerKiller, is a 2014 Director’s Cut. It’s been tightened up a little and has a few never-before-seen moments when compared to the original release. God, we had a nightmare getting TDM out to the public after the rights returned to us from the initial US DVD release. Everything from VATmoss to BBFC certification initially seemed to stand in our way, and various costs torpedoed the planned DVD release by the wonderful Cine du Monde (who are currently dark, but will hopefully return stronger than ever!)

So, that’s the back catalogue. Saved from the confines of shiny disks, and ready to watch whenever you choose. Why not go check one of them out? We worked hard on them.

In terms of live projects, the year has had its share of frustrations. Killer Apps (aka Evil Apps) ping-ponged between on again and off again, but remains very much a possibility for next year. A third Death Tales got a little bit closer to being a thing. Two things happened that were stupidly exciting but I can’t talk about yet. It was all enough to keep us very busy indeed.

In the bigger world, outside of the confines of independent horror, a lot of things happened this year that absolutely sucked. Even before we lost Leonard Cohen, 2016 had more than its fair share of awful stuff. Looking for diamonds in amongst the crap hasn’t always been easy.

We need to keep looking, though.

I hope 2017 has an enormous amount of wonderful surprises for all of us.

My name is Pat Higgins, and my conscience is clear.

 

 

A short interview with Pat from the 2014 Horror-on-Sea festival has found its way online this week. Check it out below!

Our cult movie The Devil’s Music features shock rocker Erika Spawn as the mysterious core of the movie. In the process of making the flick, we recorded a number of tracks from Erika Spawn’s past, from her biggest hit ‘Body of a Whore’ through to the power ballad ‘Dying Bride’. If you’ve seen the film, you’ll know some of these tracks.

For most of the past eight years, we’ve tried to keep the lines suitably blurred as to what elements of the film are real, and which very much aren’t. I don’t think it’s too much of a spoiler at this point to state that the songs featured in the movie were written and produced by the mighty Phil Sheldon from lyrics and extremely basic demos by Pat. Vocals were from the wonderful Vic Hopkins.

Check out Erika Spawn’s ‘Body of a Whore’ EP in full below, and be sure to mark your calendar for the worldwide VOD release of The Devil’s Music on October 21st 2016.

 

Hi folks, Pat here.

You may have seen my entry a couple of weeks back about how the release of The Devil’s Music fell through. We’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the movie and the situation, and I want to share my plan with you.

Quick recap: The Devil’s Music is our rock and roll horror mockumentary which an awful lot of people think is very cool. It’s described as ‘magnificent’ in MJ Simpson’s Urban Terrors book, ‘swiftly paced and visually inventive’ in Stuart Willis’ The New Flesh and is even positively namechecked a couple of times in Kim Newman’s magnificent Nightmare Movies. AintItCoolNews called it ‘highly recommended’ and namechecked the director’s cut in their countdown of best horror movies of the year. It won Best Independent Feature at the Festival of Fantastic Films. And more. And more.

the-devils-music

We had a short UK release of the original cut when it was streamed by IndieMoviesOnline, a really ahead-of-its-time streaming site which has now unfortunately gone under. IMO treated the film really well, taking out full page ads in the press and (gasp) actually paying us some money. The US release was handled by a company called Lono, who were lovely and wonderful and ceased trading almost as soon as the film came out, effectively deleting it before it had properly hit the shops. All of this meant that by the end of 2010, our film was effectively ‘lost’, (in that, there was no legitimate way for the public to buy the movie very easily) and all the rights came back to us because both IMO and Lono were lovely, honourable companies.

We started setting up a special edition UK DVD release in 2012, working with the wonderful Cine du Monde, which ended up getting delayed for reasons outside of our control until it ran straight into the ridiculous BBFC situation in 2014 that you probably already know about. That DVD special edition, therefore, also remains in limbo. It sits as a pre-order on Amazon but is unlikely to ever materialise in that form. So if you’ve ordered it, you might as well cancel it.

Since running the last piece about this situation, people have emailed me with a lot of suggestions. We’ve looked at everything people have suggested and examined every possibility.

The following is what we’ve come up with..

We’re going to launch the movie on October 21st 2016 on as many platforms as we can afford, in as many territories as we can. And rather than doing my usual magician’s trick of keeping all this under wraps, I’m going to be honest about it as it comes together. Ask me questions on Twitter, make suggestions via the comments here or wherever. I’m been looking at the usual platforms and making the usual kinds of decisions. I’ve been eyeing up aggregators, particularly Distribber, and would love to hear from other filmmakers’ experiences with them.

We don’t have much money in the bank, but we’ve got a cool movie and a handful of people who’ve really enjoyed it.

Let’s see whether that’s enough.

If you’re interested in helping, there are a bunch of things you can do. If you’re a producer who has worked with distribution platforms anywhere in the world that you’ve had a positive experience, it’d be great to hear about it. If you run a genre-based website, magazine or blog, it’d be brilliant if we could generate as much coverage for the movie as possible for the month of October; if you’d like to review a screener, or run an interview, or feature an exclusive image or whatever we’d love to arrange it. Just contact us via Twitter either on my account or the Jinx Media one.

Anything else? Well, we’ll be firing up the long-dormant Facebook page for the movie too, so if you feel like liking and sharing that page (and the Jinx Media one while you’re at it!), that would be awesome. The more visible support the film has, the more possibilities we have in terms of sorting international platforms.

I’m really sorry you guys have waited so long. I’ll be honest about the way this shakes down, so that people can either cheer at this success story or wince at how NOT to do it in future.

We love you guys. Now let’s finally get this goddam movie out there.

 

Between them, they killed the release of our film The Devil’s Music.

It’s a good film that people like, and they killed it.

The Devil's Music

I was worried this would happen when the BBFC introduced changes to their exemption criteria as a result of a DCMS consultation. I hoped that calmer heads would prevail, and the misguided legislation wouldn’t go through.

It did.

The way the BBFC implemented the DCMS changes within their fee structure took our movie from being ready for release in autumn 2014 to being financially non-viable on UK DVD. The additional charges levied against special features meant that the upfront fees to get it through the BBFC went from being a manageable risk to being potentially suicidal from an investment point of view. You can read all about this in an article I wrote for the Huffington Post back at the time. Back when I hoped it might not happen after all.

Back when the DVD was listed as a pre-order on Amazon.

Two years later it’s still listed as a pre-order, but it’s unlikely to ever be fulfilled. The disc had been put together already by the wonderful people at Cine du Monde, but the disc as created would now cost £2000 or more to put through the BBFC. Given that the DVD market is shrinking almost by the week, that kind of an upfront investment in addition to replication costs and so on rendered the disc non-viable. It’s a real shame. It’s a beautiful disc. I’ve got a test pressing of it.

So what? I hear you cry. The future isn’t DVD anyway. Damn the man, skip the BBFC and just go direct digital distribution!

That was my instinct, too, until I began to try and unpick the additional legislative nightmare that is VATmoss – forcing digital distributors to deal with absolutely impossible requirements for tiny companies. It was apparently created to stop massive companies using loopholes, which it doesn’t really do. What it DOES do quite spectacularly, though, is to close all of the options for direct digital distribution for the little guys by creating such an astonishing amount of legal difficulties and paperwork that nobody could ever properly unpick and administer it all without investing thousands.

So, between the BBFC and the insanity of VATmoss, The Devil’s Music was killed dead. The UK DVD release never happened and the intended direct digital release was binned. Here at Jinx, we’ve been concentrating on House on the Witchpit together with our various screenwriting classes and festival shows. Our most critically acclaimed movie has been hanging in limbo; an unfulfilled pre-order and an unreplicated master copy.

Back in 2014, AintItCoolNews reviewed the intended release, saying “The buildup of tension and horror that takes place in here is outstanding and Higgins makes the entire thing feel like the real thing“.

Just last month, WhatCulture listed it as one of the great modern horror films shot for next to nothing.

I hope we’ll find a new way forward. It strikes me as pretty heartbreaking that the release of a movie we worked so hard on, and that so many people seem to really connect with, got strangled by two pieces of ridiculous and ill thought-out legislation.

I’m aware that many of you guys have been waiting patiently for the Director’s Cut DVD of The Devil’s Music, which has been listed on Amazon for several months but seems to have been subject to a bit of a floating release date.

All I can do is apologise for this one. There have been some issues outside of our control which have resulted in the release date getting bumped a couple of times. This isn’t our fault, or that of our brilliant distributors Cine du Monde, it’s an outside issue which has knocked the schedule over a bit.

I keep waiting for confirmation of a new date, which I very much hope will be sooner rather than later. As you’re hopefully aware, the flick enjoyed a real resurgence of interest last year when the Director’s Cut was reviewed extremely favourably on AintItCool News and was later listed as ‘Worth Noting’ in their countdown of the best horror movies of 2014. Alongside new interviews with Pat about the movie and some other great reviews, it was a good year for the movie.

As soon as we have a concrete new release date, we’ll let you know. Once again, sorry.

In the meantime, here’s the new introduction to the film from the DVD, just to whet your appetite.

This next thing follows this previous thing. Read the previous thing first.

I’m not a guy who tends to approach the big subjects in life. I’m a guy who makes horror films. I have no background in investigative journalism, beyond that my uncle used to do restaurant reviews for the local paper. I didn’t set out with any sort of agenda or gameplan. I didn’t even necessarily set out to make a documentary, let alone go on to write a book about it. This wasn’t the way that I expected 2008 and 2009 to pan out. In fact, in the summer of 2008 I was meant to be directing a fun little b-movie called [TITLE REDACTED] and instead I found myself coping with the fallout of having spent the previous year digging around the story of Erika Spawn. I’ve fended off everyone from fanboys to religious fanatics, all of whom have been convinced that I’ve been doing something very very wrong, even if they’ve had wildly differing ideas as to exactly what.

Erika Spawn - Goat Shoot

 

When the final phase of Erika’s story broke, in late summer 2007, I was dealing with making the delivery list for KillerKiller. When an independent film gets picked up by a distributor, that distributor sends you a delivery list, detailing all the weird and wonderful things that you’ll have to supply them with along with the master of the movie that they’ve just bought from you. KillerKiller’s delivery list to York Entertainment over in the US was fairly straightforward, and thankfully devoid of items such as the dreaded ‘Aeroplane Version’, where the producer has to deliver a cut of the movie that has no nudity, sex, violence or bad language yet somehow has the same running time, presumably via extended cutaways of bunnies hopping through fields. The job of making the delivery list had been made rather easier because Pip had joined the company full time a few weeks previously. Oh, and I should probably point out at this stage that Pip = Pippa Higgins, who not only produces all my flicks nowadays but is also my wife. She rocks my world on a daily basis, and also stops me doing incredibly stupid things without really thinking them through. She’s amazingly funny, astonishingly well organised and the most fundamentally interesting and brilliant person I’ve ever met. But when I say things like ‘I should phone Eddie Meachum’ when I’ve only got two days left before the deadline on a delivery list, she tends to call me on it.

‘You mean Erika Spawn’s manager? Why do you want to call him?’

‘To see how he’s doing.’

‘You’ve never given a shit how he was doing before. Why do you suddenly care now?’

‘He was a nice guy. Now he’s all over the papers and they’re tearing him to bits.’

‘You should delete the number. You don’t even know him.’

‘I liked him.’

‘Are we going to have to have another number deleting session?’

I winced. I didn’t like number-deleting sessions.

I have a habit of accruing numbers in my phone at a fairly rapid rate, often of people that I’m only very tenuously associated with. Years before I got into the movie-making business, I was involved with stand-up comedy. Involved in the sense that I ran a monthly comedy night over a pub, and I performed it fairly badly as a hobby. As a result, an awful lot of comedian’s numbers found their way into my phone and, over the years, some of them became famous. Funnily enough, when they became famous I didn’t want to delete their numbers ‘in case I needed them one day’. As a result, my phone was cluttered with numbers for people like Russell Brand and Alex Zane, most of which had probably stopped working years ago and I never actually intended to phone anyway, but somehow having them in my phone made me feel slightly higher up the ladder than I actually was. Once in a while, Pip would grab my phone and ruthlessly cull numbers. Allegedly this was to save space on the phone, but I think there was a very useful side effect of keeping me vaguely tethered to reality.

‘Even if we have a number-deleting session, his one stays. Because I want to phone him. Maybe I’ll wait till all this blows over, though.’

‘What’s this got to do with the delivery list?’

And then, without even really thinking about it, I blurted out;

‘We need a new project.’

‘We’ve already talked about this. There’s not enough cash in the company account to shoot another feature.’

This was true. The previous summer we’d shot KillerKiller back-to-back with another straight to DVD flick called Hellbride. Both were now complete, but at this stage we hadn’t seen a penny back from either of them. The cupboards were very much bare as far as funding a narrative feature went.

‘Maybe not a narrative, no’ I said, still not really thinking about what I was saying and really just looking for an excuse to ring the guy who was all over the papers and whose number I had in my phone. ‘But what about a documentary? Maybe just an interview or something?’

I hadn’t thought it through even slightly, but I was warming to my theme even as I spoke. Pip looked like she was biting her tongue, but appeared to be hearing me out.

‘Look, the Erika Spawn story is the hottest news story in the country right now. We’ve got an office full of HD filming equipment and a phone full of numbers of people connected to the story. If we can’t find a way to turn this into something financially rewarding we don’t deserve to be called filmmakers’

Pip thought long and hard before responding.

‘What do you mean a phone full of numbers?’

‘We’ve got Eddie’s’

‘We’ve got Eddie’s from two years ago. And that’s it? That’s not exactly a phone full of numbers. That’s one number. That almost definitely won’t work.’

‘Course it’ll work. I’ve had the same mobile number for 12 years.’

‘That’s because you’re not all over the papers. He’ll have changed it.’

‘Bet he hasn’t.’

‘Look, I don’t even want to talk about this. Have you burnt that DVD of photos yet, or do I have to..’

‘It’s ringing.’

Pip shot me a look and exhaled very slowly and carefully. I sat and watched the little readout on my phone, with the animated full stops after ‘Calling Eddie Meachum…’ dancing their path across the screen. It rang, and rang, and went to voicemail.

‘He’s screening. Hang it up,’ Pip said.

The voicemail message sounded incongruously upbeat, considering that the man in question was being called ‘The Shadowy Figure behind Evil Erika’ by the tabloids.

‘Hiya, this is Eddie. I’m out and about at the moment, but I’ll get back to you. Cheers.’

I cleared my throat, unsure as to what I was going to say. Pip made a ‘put the phone down right now’ gesture, and without getting the okay from my brain, my mouth apparently started speaking.

‘Hi, uh, Eddie? I don’t know if you remember me. My name’s Pat Higgins, I directed Erika’s video for Needles. I imagine that everything’s pretty insane at the moment, but I wanted to say that if you want to have a chat it’d be good to speak to you. Y’know, maybe if you wanted to give your side of the story or whatever. Give me a call, anyway. Cheers.’

There was a silence in the room as I hung up. My conscience had kicked in.

‘Did that sound a bit ambulance-chasey?’ I asked Pip.

‘Of course not’ she said, irritated. ‘You just phoned up a guy who’s all over the tabloids and offered to let him tell “his side of the story”. Just like every media outlet in the world is probably doing right now. Difference is, they can all offer him vast amounts of money. What can you offer him? A bit part in [TITLE REDACTED]? It makes us look unprofessional.’

I looked around our office. Just to shatter the illusions of anyone out there who thinks that making straight-to-DVD splatter movies is glamorous and well-paying, I’ll describe the office to you. It’s the room next to our bedroom in our semi-detached suburban house. It has one wall painted vivid green so that we can shoot green screen pick-up shots of zombies or whatever without having to hire studio space. It contains two computers; a massively out-of-date PC, on which I cut TrashHouse back in 2005, and a massively overpowered Mac which I use for everything nowadays. There’s a framed poster of Gremlins on the back wall and there are usually coffee cups everywhere. Prior to February 2005 the entire room was full of overflowing ashtrays which I could never be bothered to empty, nowadays it’s just covered in empty wrappers from sweets or gum. Pip tries her hardest to keep it clean, but I can be a one man mess-machine when I put my mind to it.

God forbid we should ever look unprofessional.

‘Doesn’t matter. We gave it a shot.’

‘Did you really mean that about shooting a documentary?’ she asked.

I grinned sheepishly.

‘Not really my area. I was just looking for excuses not to blat the number.’

And then the phone starting ringing, the vibrate function making it dance and clatter on the plastic IKEA stool where I’d absent-mindedly dumped it. I looked at the readout.

Eddie Meachum.

‘He’s phoning back,’ I said to Pip, eyes probably showing a slight edge of panic. ‘Do you want to answer it?’
Her look told me no. Really rather definitely no.

I answered it.

‘Hi Eddie.’

‘Hey Pat. Sorry I missed your call. I was having a shit. Got a fucking headache like you wouldn’t believe. Haven’t heard the voicemail, just thought I’d phone straight back. You’re the guy from Warners, yeah?’

‘Ah, no. I’m Pat Higgins. We shot a music video for Needles with you a couple of years back.’

‘It came up Pat on the phone. I’m sure that’s the name of the guy from Warners.’

‘Different Pat?’

‘Yeah, must be. So, how can I help you Pat?’

‘I’ve been reading the papers.’

‘Yeah, hasn’t everyone,’ he said, ending the sentence as a statement rather than a question. Suddenly, he brightened. ‘You’re the tall guy, right? Dice earring? We shot that video chopping up that blonde chick on the hospital trolley?’

Thank fuck. He remembered.

‘That’s me.’

‘Sorry about my manners. Been a hell of a week.’

‘I guess so,’ I said. I decided to go for broke. ‘Look, if you want to talk about it..’

I heard him take a deep breath on the other end of the line. I imagined that he was massaging his eyes with his fingers, willing his headache to fade. He spoke carefully but firmly.

‘Ah, look Pat. I’m just gonna sit tight and wait for Erika to turn up. Don’t really want to talk to anyone. This’ll all blow over. Thanks for phoning and everything, though.’

And he hung up.

I relayed the conversation to Pip. She chewed a pen thoughtfully, and ventured;

‘He’d have been happy to talk to Warners, though, wouldn’t he?’

I had to concede that it sounded rather like he would.