Graveyard Shift Sisters

My recent talk with producer, writer, and director Kevin Richmond, a North Carolina native exposes a variety of concepts that are not unfamiliar, yet affirming in our consistent struggle to make representation count beyond slogans, memes, or lip service. Especially in the horror genre. One atmospheric and viscerally compelling piece from his growing arsenal of expression was birthed from an overwhelming sense of loss and uncertainty.

Noted as the first Black man to survive a mainstream horror film long enough to make it to the sequel, Ronald Kincaid first appeared in a posture of defeat. Confined to a single, padded room, shadows from the bars distorting the limited light, sitting against one of the four walls, his arms supported by his knees in an upright, fetal position. Looking up from his solemn pose, he sees Dr. Gordon looking at him through the small, rectangular window of the room. We are made aware by Dr. Gordon's exchange with Dr. Simms that Kincaid's continuous outbursts may lead to permanent isolation.

*In the midst of some site reconstruction, the original post about WerePups and Asia Eriksen was lost. But she's such a remarkable talent, I was more than happy to provide a much more thoughtful and detailed feature on the artist whose childhood dream is one of the most unique collectibles to ever exist.

I have a very left from center interest in werewolves that began with the understandably much passed on The Marsupials: The Howling III from 1987. There was Jerboa (Imogen Annesley) bonding with her odd wolf/human newborn (above) that crawled out of a pouch from her torso in such a mesmerizing way. My imagination didn't quite know how to process such a tender, human yet not-human form, and ultimately a beautiful scene between a mother and her son. Because I'm strange and unusual, it prompted some of my first extra-textual ponderings of maternity.

Since my first plug for producer/director M. Asli Dukan (@InvUniDoc) and her much anticipated opus, Invisible Universe, an exploration of speculative fiction in books and films by Black content creators, I have understood from face to face interactions that her work is prime to have wider influence and impact than she herself initially imagined.
Better are the words from the re-vamped website:
While Black creators imagined better futures for Black people within their fictional works of SF, in reality, the everyday, lived experiences of Black people in the United States – e.g., the rise of massive inequality, the prison industrial complex, and police brutality – stood in stark contrast. She began to wonder if these phenomena were related. 

I recently got the amazing opportunity to speak directly with Jill Marie Jones, one of the stunning leading ladies of this past Halloween’s big television premiere, Ash vs. Evil Dead. The series is directly related to the 1981 horror classic that started it all and spawned two favorable sequels. Much anticipation bubbled when the public was privy to the heavily central involvement of the trilogy's parents in writer/director Sam Raimi and star Bruce Campbell.

The announcement of Jones' role as a star player put this series immediately on my radar. While genre television isn’t new to Jones with her appearances on American Horror Story as well as Sleepy Hollow, many remember Jones as the complex character of Toni Childs on UPN’s successful sitcom Girlfriends for six seasons.