Twelve months have passed since I wrote "Movies in the Movies: 'The Blob' (1958)." It's been an uneventful year, completely Blobless, if you don't count my stomach.
I'll count it for you.
One.
And growing.
Growing.
And growing.
Indescribable... indestructible! Nothing can stop it!
My impressive, impressionable, boundary deficient tummy.
Run, kids. Get the hell out!
Anyway, my article focused on the delightful projectionist murder and crowd evacuation sequence at the theatre The Blob crashes.
A new essay, courtesy of the A.V. Club, takes us to "Philadelphia: 'The Blob' Movie Theater." There's an accompanying video about the annual Blobfest event, echoing my report, taking us inside the scene of the crime: the Colonial Theatre projection room. Watch and scream!
Crawled out from under the electric blanket under the bed. Took a look-see. I wanna thank God for making my quarters an exact replica of our place back on Earth. This is surprising and welcoming and Heaven, as Donna and our kitties are here, also.
Wonder if there is any half-eaten, leftover exact replica Velveeta in the fridge?...
Diary Entry, May 21, 2011, 10:53 p.m.
Wife, playing Sudoku, on the couch on the Earth. She says The Rapture is a no-show.
People, who know me and fine legs, know that I absolutely adore the first Friday in May, the annual Springy occasion of dignity, and haunch breeze: No Pants Day!
Well, this year, I forgot and wore pants, as usual, causing assorted prickly heats, plus sog problems in the shower, as usual.
I guess I simply lost my place in the grand procession of No Thongs Day, No Spanx Day, No PajamaJeans Day, No Hoodie-Footies Day, No Alpha Bunny Ears and Slimming Cottontail Day, and so forth.
On this day in 1978 -- yep, April Fool's Day, and this remembrance is completely true -- Donna and I went out on our first courting around the town. I took her to see a Theater of the Stars play in Atlanta. It was Neil Simon's "Come Blow Your Horn," headlining Lyle Waggoner, Molly Picon, and Lou Jacobi.
And here we are, 33 years later, 30 in wedded bliss and assorted food courts.
It worked.
Behold: Secret to a Successful 30-Year Marriage #9:
Big Labor Day weekend, watching "The Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon" — and live-blogging about the show with Emulsion Compulsion. Here are some of my comments:
9:23 p.m.
Billy Gilman is still parking cars. He’ll sing for you shortly.
10:01 p.m.
Cugie, we still loathe you.
10:14 p.m.
Waiting for the Del Moore tribute….
10:18 p.m.
Okay. Roll the Mike Douglas tribute….
10:36 p.m.
We just phoned in our pledge. They gave us thanks and vouchers for Max Alexander shots.
10:39 p.m.
Someone asks: Why isn’t the Telethon being broadcast in HD?
Me: Must be planning Wayne Newton close-ups.
10:46 p.m.
[Maureen McGovern sings]
Ugh. Scat. There’s got to be a morning after…
10:47 p.m.
Waiting for Scatman Crothers tribute…
10:55 p.m.
Oh. Norm Crosby is going to be on. I thought he had been retired. Standing ovulations for everyone!!
11:04 p.m.
Local [station] cut-in.
Make it stop, Mommy.
11:31 p.m.
Oh, my god, it’s Liza!!
[Barry Manilow immersed in black sequins]
3:54 a.m.
You guys duck out? I watched a movie.
2:18 p.m.
Good morning! It’s 2:15 EDT. I woke up to Can-Can dancers. Gosh, is it 1954 already? I’m a tot. Where’s Zsa Zsa and Toulouse?
Worship me. I saw Billy Gilman during the overnight. Well, I heard him from the other room. I haven’t actually seen him, yet. He’s the youth representative. I’m afraid I’m represented by Phyllis Diller’s nanny. The lady spinning the plates while blowing Pall Mall smoke into Shecky Greene.
Gotta find Froot Loops… Gotta find Froot Loops…
No, I don’t mean the knock-off Harmonicats from the Aladdin…
2:48 p.m.
The Jersey Boys were just on. Mixed emotions. I find that squawky singing annoying, but toilet now amazingly unclogged.
Got me some nasal love…
3:03 p.m.
The Tasty Oreo Dancers?
3:15 p.m.
Waiting for Quart Glass in Jerry’s Mouth tribute…
3:48 p.m.
Thanks for dressing up, Carrot Top.
3:54 p.m.
We’ve got a world that swings!
4:19 p.m.
[Jerry concludes one of his esoteric speeches]
I give to the telethon for the Castle Films references.
4:41 p.m.
The Chaplin tribute was a little short, but nice.
4:42 p.m.
I think it’s from Castle Films.
4:44 p.m.
Waiting for the George “Foghorn” Winslow tribute…
5:01 p.m.
Giant dancing bee? Must be the guy from Univision on again.
Writing recently of "The Tingler" (1959), where the dastardly creature kills the projectionist in the movie theatre, reminded me the idea was a direct lift from a bigger horror touchstone, "The Blob," the previous year.
You remember "The Blob," starring, as the coming attractions trailer says, "Steve McQueen and a cast of exciting young people."
I don't know about the cast of young Blob, but it was pretty palpitating in its own right, dropping in from outer space to feed and grow on exciting young people and a few gristly, yucky, mindless oldsters.
After all, even The Blob needs to eat its vegetables.
I never knew The Blob's real name. I've always called it Smuck.
Because, with a name like Smuck, it has to be goo.
"The Blob" was filmed in Phoenixville, PA, where the best remembered sequence takes place inside the local movie theatre, the Colonial.
During a late night terror flick, the behemoth Blob enters the building through the air ducts, stopping off in the projection room to dine on the operator.
He was a bookworm, which The Blob finds tasty. I think it belches, "Spillane molls," before coughing up the Nylon shirt and moving on, squeezing through the projector windows to dessert on the spunky chunkies watching the picture below.
I've heard tales of how 1958 projectionists yelled out of the portholes over their auditoriums at the exact moment the movie counterpart dies on film. It shook up the kids in the audiences.
The rampage sequence continues as the gang spots The Blob coming their way. In immense fear, the entire crowd sprints outside the cinema and onto the street in a frantic escape. Look:
Classic stuff. Researching this article, I learned the Colonial Theatre still exists and conducts an annual BlobFest each July!
Why wasn't I told of this wonderful event? It is exactly something I would love to experience. Scary movies and live entertainment, highlighted by 35mm showings of "The Blob" in the same room where it was filmed.
A run-out reenactment is part of the festivities. When the crucial moment, described above, beams onto the screen, I'd be highly amused to rise up with the BlobFest attendees and rush through and from the theatre, hollering as if life depends on it.
BlobFest informs me, however, the reenactment does not occur during a presentation of "The Blob," which seems like a missed opportunity, but still fun. Peek:
