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The Mask Of The Horror Actor by Doug Bradley pub:
Titan Books, UK. 283 page enlarged illustratred paperback. Price: £10.99
(UK). ISBN: 1-84023-807-0. check out website: www.titanbooks.com
Monsters.
They are with us throughout our brief lives.
By monsters, I don't mean
those mundane human beings who through lack of imagination or through callous
stupidity cause most of the misery in our world. I mean the mythical, wondrous,
magical beings that sleep under the bed or lurk menacingly in the corners of our
mind. They are the monsters of fable, of books and films. They are the ones that
really count. Doug Bradley, aka Pinhead from the 'Hellraiser' films, has
written a book that delves into the psyche of the people who make a living portraying
these celluloid nightmares and a pretty damn fine book it is, too. 
Bradley starts by providing a section of introductory material that links the
use of the mask in early religion and theatre with the rubber and latex monsters
of the twentieth century. This link is certainly plausible and it is well presented
for people who may not be familiar with ancient Greek culture and its influence
on the evolution of the stage. We then encounter the meat of the work,
this being a journey through the ages of cinema concentrating on those artists
who have helped to create the legendary figures of fantastical cinema. We're talking
Boris Karloff, Vincent Price, Robert Englund and other such luminaries.
Unlike other works though, Bradley does not solely concentrate on backstage anecdotes.
He investigates in great detail the methods with which these monsters were brought
to life. We become privy to the painful secrets of the dressing room, the agonising
hours of time it took to apply the make-up, the mysteries of latex and glue.
Laudably, Bradley does all this whilst avoiding the overly technical. Simultaneously,
he doesn't fall into the trap of treating his readers like idiots. There is a
feeling throughout that we are somehow in collusion with the author, reinforced
by his frequent asides as he comments on the activities of his predecessors.
I particularly appreciated the sections detailing the stars of more modern films,
such as 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' and 'Halloween' as these are the films that,
largely unbeknownst to my parents, I grew up with. The book truly shines
when Bradley is discussing his own experiences in the industry. It is fascinating
to read of the exploits of the first theatre group that Bradley was part of, whose
fellow members included someone called Clive Barker (doesn't ring a bell) and,
horror of horrors, Les Dennis. It gives you shivers, doesn't it? No offence, Les.
There's a lot of material for 'Hellraiser' fans as much of the early life of those
films is discussed in detail. Bradley also details his involvement with the series,
including the two that have not been released, in an admirably straightforward
way. He is quick to celebrate their triumphs, whilst also acknowledging the weaknesses
of some of the sequels. I was horrified, however, to learn that they re-voiced
his character in the film 'Nightbreed'. Anyone who has watched a 'Hellraiser'
movie will know what a talented actor Bradley is. Why anyone would want to screw
around with his performance is beyond me. I burnt through this book in
a few days, so my advice to any SF fans planning on buying the book (and you should
be) is to prepare yourself with two matches for your eyelids or a big jug of coffee,
because this book is a bugger to put down once you've started. I only hope the
author writes more, as it will be a sad loss if he doesn't.
Paul
Skevington
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