Mild Fear 2022 mea culpa

Ugh. Mild Fear 2022 just got away from me this month, which is a major bummer. I failed badly, like the dude who gets knocked off in the first five minutes of the slasher film and is only credited as "Teenager in vestibule." 

The blame is all mine, though I would list as extenuating circumstances: taking care of 14 cats (plus another pregnant stray outside) every day; having to get up at 5 a.m. on weekdays for work; the workload crunch of the midterm elections; and the wonderful distraction of the Philadelphia Phillies' surprise run to the World Series. 

And I had so much dandy stuff lined up, too, some of which is shown above. Of course, there's no time limit in blogging. I hope to write about some of this stuff down the road. In our hearts, Halloween can be every month, right?

Ashar and I have also been watching a bunch of horror movies. It's a nice way to relax when my brain is mush in the final hours of the day. (I've always been a morning writer, not an evening one.) Most of them are new to us. Some of the best ones we've watched are: The Babadook (2014), The Haunted Palace (1963), The Plague of the Zombies (1966) and Let the Right One In (2008, Swedish). We're also still working our way through the nine Hammer Dracula films, which is a lot of Dracula, and a lot of coach rides through the day-for-night forest. And I introduced Ashar to a favorite from my teenage years: the 1985 TV movie The Midnight Hour. I could write a whole post about that. But that will have to come in another Mild Fear moment. For now, see ya on the other side of Samhain.

Above: Osmond Portifoy, aka Bounds, aka Prounce, aka Prounce de León.

Adolf Born's groovy title illustrations for "The Girl on a Broomstick"

The Girl on a Broomstick is a delightful 1972 comedy from Czechoslovakia that's still perfect for the Halloween season. It's about an alternate-universe witch-in-training named Saxana who is transported to our modern-day world, where she learns that school is no more fun here than it is in her own universe. There's plenty of hijinx — with jokes that work across all cultures — plus broom-riding and rabbits aplenty.

I don't know of all of the places where you can track down a copy, but it's currently available, in full, on YouTube. I first learned about the movie last year from the podcast The Projection Booth.

The opening credits set the kooky tone for The Girl on a Broomstick (Dívka na koštěti) thanks to the wonderful artwork by Adolf Born (1930-2016). It could be said that he was Czechoslovakia's version of Edward Gorey, though that comparison is a bit too simplistic. 

One of the more interesting footnotes Born may be remembered for is that he provided the artwork for the first movie version of The Hobbit, a 12-minute film that was rushed out in 1967 so that a producer could maintain the movie rights to Tolkien's novel. The film is barely animated, consisting mostly of camera movements and zooms on Born's artwork. While mostly unrelated to anything involving The Hobbit, it does include Bilbo stealing a magic ring from "Goloom."

Getting back to The Girl on a Broomstick, here is some of Born's artwork from the opening credits. Check out the movie itself; I don't think you'll be disappointed!

"A beautiful woman, and a most horrid demon"

It's September 1, and the coolest kids declare that's the official start of Halloween Season. That's perfectly fine with me. We need all the horror escapism we can get these days, when the real world is scarier than Boris Karloff and Michael Myers. I've already been doing some posts that could qualify as Mild Fear 2022 since the blog reboot (1, 2), but I'll make this the first official post for that category of the year. 

It's also time for our family to finalize our 2022 Halloween Movie Festival, which will likely begin in September and bleed (ha!) into November. I'll share the lineup when it's done, but it's likely to include some lighter fare, like Mad Monster Party, Carry on Screaming!, My Name Is Bruce and the hard-to-find 1985 TV movie The Midnight Hour. We've also been working our way through the Hammer Dracula film series this summer. Because we can never get enough of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee.

Anyway, for tonight's fun little post, this is a newspaper clipping I found on Page 2 of the May 11, 1865, version of the Lancaster Intelligencer.  I don't know what was in the water 157 years ago, but this is quite the wild ghost tale. I think if I had been the editor in the newsroom, I probably would have asked for another source to verify this before sending it to the press. But that's just me. I'm no fun anymore.