Editorials
Gods and Monsters: 10 Years of Monster Makeup Productions
In May 2015, my father died. It wasn’t sudden, but it was difficult nonetheless. I had just moved to Rhode Island, no longer able to afford Boston. One evening that August, in the midst of my grief, I met up with a new friend I had made since moving to the Ocean State. We had bonded over our love of horror movies – the thrillers we loved, the new releases we did not, what we thought was missing from the genre. At some point, I thoughtlessly said, we should make our own horror movie.
So one fine Tuesday night, Brandon Perras-Sanchez picked me up to discuss this possibility. He shared an idea for a horror movie with me that he had with his friend, Christopher Dalpe. It started as an absurd riff on hookup apps. “Brandon and I knew we wanted to put a dick through a meat grinder,” says Chris. We picked him up and all drove to Ogie’s Trailer Park, a dive bar in Providence’s West End. As Brandon recalls, “our blood pact was made that night at Ogie’s.” That evening, we began building upon their ideas of what would become our first feature film, Death Drop Gorgeous.
I bring up my father’s passing because I think, in many ways, this project carried me through my grief. If you’ve watched Death Drop Gorgeous, this might be silly to read – that a John Waters meets 80s slasher drag queen exploitation film helped me process the loss of my father, but as Joni Mitchell once wrote, “laughing and crying, you know it’s the same release.” I’d find myself in cafes in Providence every weekend, writing pages and pages of what the three of us discussed, following our sticky note outline. Then, every week, we’d meet up and read the pages aloud. Brandon made it gorier. Chris made it wittier. We’d change scenes, switch the order, add more, delete less.
Go In, Completely Blind
In this process, we didn’t consider the road ahead. Prior to that, I had always been a type-A Virgo. I planned, I assessed, and I organized. None of us had shot a short film, never mind a full-length. Brandon had gone to school for some sound design, but he didn’t major in screenwriting or filmmaking. We didn’t bother ourselves with those trivialities. Letting go of that control and not considering what it would take to shoot a feature lent to our momentum. Maybe that naivety is in part the reason we finished it at all.
Building a DIY Horror Filmmaking Collective
At some point in pre-production, Brandon looped in his long-term friend, Wayne Gonsalves, to create a more realized character of Dwayne, and his partner, Ryan Miller, to help with finessing the story. We became a strange quintet, running around town, shooting scenes, figuring it out as we went along. No permit? No problem. (Not a joke, we’ve never got a film permit – not for lack of trying! They just never emailed us back.)
At some point, we realized we had to name ourselves. I think it was Chris who came up with “Monster Makeup”; it referenced our first feature: the drag, the gore, and special effects, but it also represented what we did: we made horror movies, we created monsters.
There were a lot of conventions we ignored. For me, this article is not only about reflecting on our work, but also about sharing our process. Like adulthood, there are milestones in a filmmaking career that you’re, allegedly, supposed to follow. I’m not insinuating they don’t help, but there are other ways to make your filmmaking dreams a reality.
The Coven Becomes a Collective
If you finish this article and remember any piece of advice, I want it to be this: if you’re going to shoot a DIY, shoestring-budget movie, you have to have community, and you must collaborate. No matter how intimate and personal your vision may be, filmmaking is inherently collaborative. As a collective, we had to shed our egos. Of course, over the decade, there have been a handful of disagreements, but we never saw our movies as these precious things that only one of us had the final say on.
Funding a Microbudget Horror Movie Through Local Support
Community is the reason our films exist. Death Drop Gorgeous was mostly set in nightlife, and most of us had been working in the bar scene for years. We knew the queens, the venues, what drew crowds and what didn’t. We called in favors to shoot a fake trailer. In addition to a crowd-sourcing campaign, to raise our budget, we also threw fundraising events from a drag show, to a (human) pup Best in Show, to an interactive murder mystery.
“Our projects would not exist without the immense support we received from our friends, family, and community,” says Chris. “Not just money. The spaces we’ve filmed (gifted and donated), the actors and talent (volunteers, many acting in front of a camera for the first time), costumes, makeup, pizzas for the crew – everything has been a labor of love from this weird village, and I’m eternally grateful.”
“We are forever indebted to our Providence family,” Brandon affirms. These films transformed from pipe dreams to community initiatives. As more folks joined our projects, the more it was helped along by others outside our core five. Our thank you speech could be its own feature-length. Somewhere along the lines, we convinced our city we were filmmakers, and eventually, we started to believe it, too.
Working With Your Community as Creative Inspiration
I emphasize collaboration and community because I think aspiring filmmakers feel limited by what they don’t have and not inspired by what they do have access to. We knew drag queens, we knew nightlife, we knew local music. It’s not just “write what you know,” it’s also “write what you have.” I also think some filmmakers have a sense of ownership of their work that doesn’t come from a place of pride but a place of possession. If you’re going to shoot a microbudget film, you need to learn when to take notes, and let others take the reins.
Trial-and-Error
What we learned in the previous film, we would apply to the subsequent project. Saint Drogo, our second feature, was an intentional shift. We lassoed in local photographer and musician Kevin Bowden (who scored a majority of Death Drop Gorgeous) to ensure a more visual spectacle. The quintet became a sextet. We wrote a leaner script without a B, C, and D plot. We wanted to explore another genre and demonstrate our growth. “Myself, and some of the other crew members, lean more towards dark, bleak, folk and fantasy horror,” says Brandon. “We really wanted to take a shot at it.”
While we didn’t want to limit the story, we did go into writing Drogo with the reminder of having undergone such a long production with Death Drop, which included an ensemble cast and numerous locations; we wanted to make filming more manageable for us. Sometimes, the pressure of limited setting or characters forces you to wrestle with the story, assess your resources, and really consider the necessity of scenes. In turn, producing more effective work.
Queen of the Rats and a Decade of Filmmaking Lessons
Our next feature, Queen of the Rats, feels like the culmination of what we’ve learned over the course of these ten years. It’s a meld of our first feature’s flippancy and chaos and the intentionality, cinematography, and nihilism of our second feature.
“I think you’re going to laugh,” says Chris of Queen of the Rats. “It’s a genuinely funny script with amazing characters. But there’s a lot of heart in it, and you might feel sentimental and nostalgic for a time and place that doesn’t exist anymore.”
“It’s even exceeding my own expectations,” notes Brandon. “I know every asshole in the biz will say ‘there’s really nothing like this,’ in regards to their own film, but in all sincerity, there really is nothing like this.”
Defining Success as a DIY Horror Filmmaker
Our method is not ideal for everyone. Sometimes, it’s not even ideal for us. Each project consumes a huge portion of our lives, with productions taking over two years, shot in between our day jobs, and we are still fundraising to make each one happen. But we’ve accomplished a lot and never let what we lack compromise the vision. What I am most proud of is our commitment. It’s also worth considering, however, what you as a filmmaker define as success. Sure, we have bigger dreams, but I still feel a great sense of fulfillment finishing these projects, like I’ve run a marathon.
All our lives have changed in the course of our collaborations. As Chris notes, “We’ve all grown up together. We’re a family, and these guys are my brothers. We’ve all changed jobs, boyfriends have come and gone. We’ve been to weddings and funerals together. We’ve watched the city that inspires our films change and transform…With each creative project we’ve taken on, our community and network has expanded, and it feels like our little creepy family just keeps getting bigger.”
“Being able to navigate through this dystopian pedophile pyramid scheme hellscape with a circle of some of your best friends is a blessing”, says Brandon. “There’s comfort and solace knowing that as our work/life balances wax and wane, our dedication, or addiction, to making horror films and content will always remain a sturdy axis.”
Why Queer Horror Stories Matter More Than Ever
Art carried me through the grief of losing my father. Horror helped me cope. These aren’t new, profound concepts, but something I want to highlight, especially given the current state of, well, everything. We need new voices in filmmaking. We especially need queer stories right now. As humans, we aren’t meant to withstand this much grief constantly. We’re going to need art to carry us through.
Monster Makeup is having a retrospective exhibit in Providence, RI, at AS220’s Aborn Gallery for the entire month of June. Opening reception is June 6th. On June 13th, we will be doing an artist talk at the Aborn Gallery and screening a preview of Queen of the Rats. Both events are free.
Final words of advice from the Monster Makeup crew:
“Make whatever you feel passionately about, no matter how successful it may or may not be. Letting that pass you by will always haunt you.” – Wayne Gonsalves
“Story matters. Whether you’re shooting with Richard Deakins or on an iPhone, if you don’t have a story, you’ve got nothing.” – Kevin Bowden
“Aim high. Make it work. Dedicate weekly time to writing, filming, whatever, and you do not stray from that schedule. Get creative. Do not compare your art to other art in a self-deprecating way. DO NOT GIVE A FUCK WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK.” – Brandon Perras-Sanchez
“Just get started, and you’ll learn by doing. Every mistake you make on set will just make you a better filmmaker. Utilize the resources within your community and its natural enthusiasm for filmmaking. It will only elevate your project many times over.” – Ryan Miller
“Follow people’s advice if you want to do what they’re doing. Follow your gut if you want to do something new. Regardless of which one you choose, do it with friends.” – Chris Dalpe
(Behind the scenes photos of Death Drop Gorgeous were taken by Chris Eastman. Behind-the-scenes photos of Saint Drogo were taken by Maxwell Snyder. All other photos by Kevin Bowden)
People hate It: Chapter Two. Unlike many horror sequels or poorly reviewed releases that gain popularity in time, the film has seemingly gained more notoriety. Maybe it’s the occasionally goofy CGI, the heavy comedy, or just how overstuffed it is, but everyone is really down and out on it. Still, though, I will defend this movie like a member of the Losers Club defending their Ka-Tet (deep-cut King reference for you constant readers).
But why, though? Objectively, the movie can feel overstuffed. The CGI is a little goofy. Well, despite all this, I believe It: Chapter Two captures the pure essence of the book. It captures the heart, the terror, and metaphors about small town America excellently…even better than the first one.
It: Chapter Two Is the Ultimate Stephen King Movie
Listen…I am a simple man. If you have this much pure Stephen King energy in a movie, I am going to love it. Why King fans did not grasp onto this movie, I do not know, because it is probably the most “Stephen King” Stephen King movie ever.
We have the small, Maine town and characters from the book, yes, but also a fantastic cameo from the big man himself. Seriously, this movie is like Avengers: Endgame for constant readers (even though Castle Rock is technically more of a crossover). The movie has the heart, small-town summer feeling, and aesthetics for a King film to the max. Whether that is a positive or negative depends on the viewer, but constant readers can relish in how set the movie is on capturing King’s Americana.
It: Chapter Two Understands the Stephen King Novel
Yes, the movie is sillier than the first installment. It’s technically less proficient and cleaner than its predecessor. Still, this movie just generally captures both the message and energy of the book. Don’t get me wrong, It (2017) is excellent in that it feels like a haunted house walkthrough. There are lots of different entities Pennywise dresses up as to attack. It’s colorful, fun…but it takes a lot of liberties. This is fine, but It: Chapter 2 painstakingly portrays the deeper undercurrents and plot beats of the novel.
The Horror Beneath It: Chapter Two
It has always been a story about the darkness behind America’s suburban facade. Behind all of the killer clown and creature feature/cosmic fun, it is about how America’s past will always linger, and is always darker than any fictional entity. It: Chapter 2 does not shy away from its portrayal of bigotry, or its bigger messages about racism and America’s past. The first one has elements of it, but really, Chapter 2 feels like it peels back the kid’s-on-bikes stuff to get to the nitty-gritty of the story.
Additionally, the movie gets the casting down perfectly. Not saying It did not have some of the best child performances ever, but finding not only worthy adult counterparts, but book-accurate players would have to be an arduous task. Huge shout-out to the casting team for absolutely nailing this.
Bill Skarsgård Makes Pennywise Even Scarier
The whole cast blows this movie out of the water, but Pennywise in this one steals the show. Skarsgard is rarely anything less than excellent, but he gets his true horror laurel here. He plays the role as sinister as possible, landing some humor but never letting it weigh down the fear factor.
He is a force to be reckoned with. When making something like a killer clown movie in contemporary times, you have to be really careful not to make it just straight-up silly. Art the Clown is, of course, pure nightmare-fuel, but when approaching the horror big top, it can unintentionally end up feeling like a mismarketed Goosebumps episode.
This, though, is not a case like that. Pennywise is nightmarish in this. His voice is more sinister, and he reads as a predatory cosmic entity, and not just another slasher villain. Fun and frightening, Pennywise pulls no punches in bringing the horror in Chapter 2.
It’s not unreasonable to think most American horror fans can probably name only one Mexican horror filmmaker: Guillermo del Toro. Given how many fantastic films he’s made and how successful so many of them have been, it’s easy to see how he became a household name, but he’s far from the only Mexican filmmaker with a taste for the macabre. Rubén Galindo Jr. may be a major telenovela producer now, but in the 1980s he wrote and directed independent genre films in Mexico that likely influenced the kind of filmmaker del Toro would become. Galindo Jr. isn’t some obscure figure in Mexican entertainment, but he’s also not as widely known as he should be in horror circles, despite having many of his genre films available from Vinegar Syndrome.
In celebration of Latin Heritage Month, I wanted to shed a light on Galindo Jr.’s films not just because they are a lot of fun, but also because of how underseen they still are. Galindo Jr.’s early films mark a complete departure from the work he does now, so much so that you’d think it’s different people, but his early career genre films were important and part of a familial legacy of both the Galindos and the Cardonas (the royal families of Mexican genre films).
The Galindo Family Legacy in Mexican Horror
Rubén Galindo Jr., as his name suggests, is the son of Mexican filmmaker Rubén Galindo Aguilar. He first entered the film industry as an actor, but joined his family’s production studio to take on a myriad of roles like set designer, accountant, purchasing manager, and more. His directorial debut in 1969 was for a comedy, Un Amante Anda Suelto, and was the first of 47 films he would direct. While his focus wasn’t explicitly horror, he did direct a couple of films starring Luchador and actor Santo, as well as many Mexican westerns before focusing more on distribution in the 1980s. Coincidentally, around the time his young son, Galindo Jr., would begin his own filmmaking career.
Rubén Galindo Jr.’s Journey Into Mexican Genre Cinema
Galindo Jr. began his filmmaking career by leaving his hometown of Mexico City to attend UCLA, only to return to CDMX in 1983 after graduating with a degree in Film and Television Arts & Sciences. His first film, Cementerio Del Terror, was a huge hit despite being a modest production, and it was the first of many independent horror films Galindo Jr. would take on. While his legacy won’t be built upon the work he did in genre, it certainly started there and evolved beyond the underground and into the mainstream over time.
Cementerio Del Terror (1985): Rubén Galindo Jr.’s Horror Debut
Galindo Jr.’s first film is by far one of his most uneven, but in the same vein, also one of the most entertaining. It starts like so many great horror flicks do: on Halloween, as a group of kids decides to steal a body from the morgue, only to disrupt the ghoulish ghost of a serial killer. While graverobbing isn’t exactly the kind of thing many do for fun, this particular endeavor is in service of a satanic ritual that will go awry, thus leading to all kinds of bloodshed and demonic appearances. There’s a sub-plot involving some premonitions of the killer returning from the dead that go ignored, reasonably so, and where things land is your standard house/cemetery of horrors where the kids are met with all kinds of devious and dastardly demons.
The Horror Influences Behind Cementerio del Terror
With a reported budget of 45-65 million pesos (roughly $275,000-$540,000 US dollars), filming started in 1984, and Galindo Jr. was able to wrangle in well-known Mexican actor Hugo Stiglitz to star in the production. The film was a huge success for Galindo Jr., even if it wasn’t well-received by critics at the time. Galindo Jr.’s influences are apparent in terms of both content and style, as he clearly draws inspiration from John Carpenter’s Halloween and Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead. There’s also a heavy helping of Romero’s Night of the Living Dead, even if the ghouls at play here aren’t the zombified kind. It’s truly a smorgasbord kind of horror film that never fully commits to one idea, but knows how to weave them together well enough to be entertaining.
The practical effects may seem ropey by today’s standards, but context and time would dictate that these are quite good considering the circumstances and how much of a trailblazer Galindo Jr. was for making this kind of film at this time in Mexico.
Time has been far kinder to this film than critics were, as it averages a 3.0 on Letterboxd and is the recipient of a now sold-out edition from Vinegar Syndrome. In terms of ranking, this is probably B-Tier for Galindo Jr., which is impressive for a debut feature regardless!
Dimensiones Ocultas (Don’t Panic) and Its Influence
Perhaps the best-known of Galindo Jr.’s early genre films, Don’t Panic is without a doubt his best horror effort, and his most derivative. If Cementerio del Terror was riffing on two horror classics, Dimensiones Ocultas riffs on another. This time, it’s Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street. Following very similar story beats, we follow Michael, who, on his 17th birthday, uses a Ouija board with his friends and accidentally unleashes a demon. This demon isn’t your ordinary run-of-the-mill possession type; no, this demon haunts you in your dreams! Michael sees these murders before they happen and tries to warn his friends, to no avail.
Why Don’t Panic Remains a Mexican Horror Cult Favorite
There’s a lot to love about Dimensiones Ocultas, and it’s not hard to see why it has become Galindo Jr.’s most notable genre film. From the strange kid-print adult-sized pajamas that Michael wears to the incoherent plotting, it’s not a film that’s going to appeal to those who prefer tight technical filmmaking and single-threaded plot lines. The characters are hard to take seriously, in part because so many of the voices are dubbed, and if this all sounds like reasons not to like this film, you’re sorely mistaken.
The Elm Street influence is endearing in how sloppily it is transcribed here, but it’s also distinct enough to not feel like a complete rip-off. The demon, Virgil, doesn’t really look like Freddy, but if you squint your eyes after a few drinks, you’d probably not be able to tell the difference. The death scenes are creative and at the same time comedic, so it’s not a film that is easy to take seriously, which is a good thing.
While there are no budgetary numbers that are verifiable, Dimensiones Ocultas shows more ambition in terms of effects and ideas than Cementerio, while not really showing much evolution in terms of screenwriting. Galindo Jr. does have better command of the pacing here, and this too has received the amazing Vinegar Syndrome treatment like Cementerio, but is also sadly out of print. A-Tier Galindo Jr.
Ladrones de Tumbas (1989) A Unique Mexican Slasher
Shortly after Dimensiones Ocultas, Galindo Jr. was back at it, directing his third horror feature, Ladrones de Tumbas. Learning a bit from both of his former features, Ladrones feels far more consistent both in terms of plotting and execution. It does tread familiar ground that harkens back to Cementerio, as a group of teenage treasure hunters unknowingly awaken a malevolent entity hell-bent (literally) on bringing forth the spawn of Satan. The spirit systematically takes out the teens one by one in clever, slasher-centric ways, and while it does feel familiar, it’s never repeating the same stuff seen in earlier Galindo Jr. joints. The effects feel far more accomplished, and the story is much easier to follow, all things considered.
The Forgotten History of Mexican Horror Filmmakers
There’s even less information about this film’s production out there, which is more of a reminder that there is still a woeful lack of study around Mexican horror filmmakers that has penetrated the mainstream. Even in preparing for this article, it’s quite difficult to find trusted sources- hell, any sources besides Wikipedia and IMDb. What we do know happens after Ladrones is that Galindo Jr. would begin his distinction from horror and start making his way West to more dramatic and widely accepted fare. There is one more film that Galindo Jr. would helm for horror, possibly two if you consider Resucitaré Para Matarlos in 1991, before making his big pivot. And you guessed it: the Vinegar Syndrome release of Ladrones is very much out of print. S-Tier Galindo Jr.
Mutantes Del Año 2000 (1992) Rubén Galindo Jr.’s Sci-Fi Horror Experiment
Mutantes del Año 2000 is easily the worst of Galindo Jr.’s genre efforts, and it’s largely because it’s kind of a silly premise. It’s a story about a teacher going through an ugly divorce during a time in the future where pollution is so bad that everyone wears gas masks, and an ex-husband who has been dumping nuclear waste behind the house, mutating the local rodent population. When a giant mutated rat enters the home, the teacher must fight it to stay alive while she’s warding off both the rat and her ex, who wants to keep his nuclear secret. It’s absurd, and it almost feels like Galindo Jr.’s first foray into the more dramatic side of storytelling.
Not only is this one a bit of a slog to get through, but it also loses some of the fun and charm that Galindo Jr.’s previous films exhibited. While the story is a bit more concise and clear, a positive, the delivery leaves a lot to be desired, even if the world-building is somewhat interesting. It’s hard to know, at least without further research or speaking to Galindo Jr. directly, what caused him to fall out of love with genre, but his lack of conviction is apparent here. You can’t fault someone for wanting a change, but I would be remiss not to wonder what it would’ve been like if Galindo Jr. kept refining his abilities for the sake of scares.
Why Rubén Galindo Jr.’s Mexican Horror Films Deserve More Attention
One of the most challenging parts of writing this kind of article is not having enough sources to tell a fully holistic story. Part of this is due to time, as one can only watch so many special features in such a time, but also that there simply aren’t as many primary sources for Mexican horror history and the filmmakers that contributed to it. The fact that so many can’t name more than one Mexican filmmaker says a lot about the lack of information out there, and so if you’re a filmmaker seeking a new topic for a genre documentary, consider Mexican horror. Not only is it fertile ground, but it’s also got a lineage of talent that is still alive to talk about what it was like, something we are reminded of weekly as announcements of deceased horror stars come across our news feeds.
Rubén Galindo Jr. is just one of many who have made their mark on horror in Mexico, and selfishly, I would love to know more about this than what is available. Running a website and working full-time doesn’t leave a lot of time for much else, but it’s important to both remember and celebrate the legacies of those who came before as trailblazers who are just as worthy of our praise as those who become household names.
For more of Matt Orozco’s work, along with many other great horror articles, head on over to Macabre Daily!
