The Hellraiser Films and Their Legacy Read online

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Foreword

  Preface

  1.THE ROAD TO HELL

  2. OPENING THE BOX

  3. DEMONS TO SOME

  4. SUCH SIGHTS TO SHOW YOU

  5. NO LIMITS

  6. TO HELL AND BACK

  7. OPENING DOORS

  8. THE DOCTOR IS IN

  9. THE DEVIL YOU KNOW?

  10. THE SWEET SUFFERING

  11. EARTHBOUND

  12. COMPLETING THE PATTERN, SOLVING THE PUZZLE, TURNING THE KEY

  13. PINHEAD UNBOUND

  14. WHAT STARTED IN HELL

  15. PRODUCTION HELL

  16. OPEN THE GATES, LAY LOW THE RAMPARTS

  17. A DISTINCT SENSE OF DÉJÀ VU

  18. A BLOODLINE CURSED TO THE END OF TIME

  19. DANTE’S FOOTSTEPS

  20. A WORLD FULL OF RIDDLES

  21. WELCOME TO HELL

  22. HIDE AND SEEK

  23. ALL PROBLEMS SOLVED

  24. HELLBOUND HEARTS

  25. SOUGHT AFTER?

  26. DEADER CERTAINTY

  27. FEAR IS WHERE WE GO TO LEARN

  28. DEADER, LIKE ME?

  29. HELL OF A WORLD

  30. WELCOME TO THE PARTY

  31. WORLD IN ACTION

  32. NO MORE SOULS

  33. COMICS FROM HELL

  34. FURTHER EXPLORATIONS

  Notes

  Bibliography

  Index of Terms

  The Hellraiser Films and Their Legacy

  Paul Kane

  McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers

  Jefferson, North Carolina, and London

  All the photographs and images used in this book are from private collections and picture libraries and are used solely for the advertising, promotion, publicity and review of the specific motion pictures they illustrate. They have not been reproduced for advertising or poster purposes, nor to create the appearance of a specially licensed or authorized publication. Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for the use of their material. All rights reserved. While every effort has been made to trace and acknowledge all creators and copyright holders, the author apologizes for any errors or omissions and, if informed, will be glad to make corrections in any subsequent editions.

  Clive Barker, Gary J. Tunnicliffe, Doug Bradley, Randy Falk (NECA), Stephen Lane (The Prop Store of London), Les Edwards, Phil and Sarah Stokes (Revelations), Marc Calma and Kacey Rodriguez, David A. Magitis, Eric Gross, Shelly Berggren, David Robinson, Eric Horton, Mark Thompson (Checker Books), Gabrielle White (Random House), Dan Cope, Nathan Green, David Stoner (Silva Screen), Rita Eisenstein (Starlog Group), Ian Frost and Dan Forbes.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGUING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Kane, Paul, 1973–

  The Hellraiser films and their legacy / Paul Kane ; foreword by Doug Bradley.

  p. cm.

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7864-2752-9

  (illustrated case : 50# alkaline paper)

  1. Hellraiser films—History and criticism. I. Title.

  PN1995.9.H42K36 2006

  791.43'67—dc22 2006029845

  British Library cataloguing data are available

  ©2006 Paul Kane. All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  On the cover: Doug Bradley as the Lead Cenobite (Pinhead) in Hellraiser (New World Pictures/Photofest)

  McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers

  Box 611, Jefferson, North Carolina 28640

  www.mcfarlandpub.com

  For Eric Popplewell and Shelley Baker:

  tutors and friends.

  You pulled back the magician’s curtain

  and allowed me to look behind.

  With huge respect and thanks.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book couldn’t have been written without the help and support of so many people: My mum and dad, and the rest of my family, Clive Barker, Kurt Adam, Doug Bradley, Stephen Jones, Michael Marshall Smith, Kim Newman, Peter Atkins, Gary J. Tunnicliffe, David Robinson, Randy Falk, Les & Val Edwards, Frazer Lee, Shelly Berggren, John B. Ford, Simon Clark, Russell Blackwood, Shannon Larratt, Alec Worley, Joseph O’Regan, Bob Keen, Mark Thompson, Eric Gross, Yoram Allon, Max Lichtor, Allan Bryce, Constance Taylor, Nathan Green, Dan Cope, Peter E. Keighrey, Rita Eisenstein, Ken Patterson, Eric Horton, Christopher Fowler, Martin Roberts and Helen Hopley, Marc Calma, Lee Glasby and Claire Wood-Glasby, David Stoner, Peggy J. Shumate, Gabrielle White, Kevin Knott, Judith A. and Scott Richard, Ken Snyder, Phil and Sarah Stokes, David Bamford, Dan Forbes, Caroline Noonan at HarperCollins UK, Peter London at HarperCollins US, Ian Frost, Neil Gaiman, Ed Martinez, Tim Lawes, Stephen Lane, David A. Magitis, and, of course, Marie O’Regan, who has been my anchor while writing this book and who persuaded me to do it in the first place. A big thank you to everyone.

  FOREWORD

  by Doug Bradley

  It is, as I write this, exactly nineteen years to the month since the cameras were rolling at Cricklewood Production Village in North London on a largely unheralded, British-made, American-produced horror film whose darkly enigmatic subject matter provides the inspiration for this book. In the intervening time, I have been pretty thoroughly cross-examined about that same subject matter—in print, on radio and TV, in person at conventions and, latterly, increasingly via email—and in particular, of course, about the role of those mysterious leather-clad theologians of the Order of The Gash and their unceasing explorations in the higher reaches of pleasure.

  In a question and answer session more than ten years ago, I recall being asked, “Do you think the ending of Hellbound suggests that there is no possibility of Heaven, only the certainty of Hell?” I didn’t have an answer then, and I’m not sure I do now. More than likely I turned the proposition back on the questioner to buy thinking time: “Wow, that’s a great question. I’m not sure. What do you think?” Or I may have fled to The Last Resort, what might be called, with thanks to the United States Constitution, the Actor’s Fifth. “Hey, come on, guys. It’s just a movie, you know.”

  More recently, I’ve found myself approached on film sets with the query, “What do you think, Doug? Are we allowed to do this?” “What do you mean, allowed to do it?” “Well, is it right? Does it fit the mythology?” In those situations, I feel like some kind of representative for the Union of Cenobites and Assorted Soul Tearers. “Hold on, I’ll just consult my manual. Now look: page 42, clause 3, paragraph E, section (i) clearly states....” In fact, my answer tends to be: if it feels right, do it. It’s more a question of ideas being good or bad, exciting or dull, original or hackneyed, rather than right or wrong. Besides, if something is going to have the temerity to claim the name of mythology for itself, it cannot be finished or immutable: it must be fluid, constantly changing and modifying, and have the ability to be one thing today and something quite different tomorrow.

  I have good reason for taking this approach. Towards the end of filming Hell on Earth I sat in the bar of the Howard Johnson hotel in High Point, North Carolina, listening to a fellow cast member outline his idea for the fourth film. I don’t remember the details, but it somehow involved the Lament Configuration and, by extension, Pinhead being fired into outer space to rid the earth of its power. It would somehow find its way onto a space station and.... Well, I think I nodded politely while feeling that he should possibly spend less time in the bar. Pinhead in
space? Don’t be ridiculous. And look what happened next. I don’t think, by the way, that I ever recounted that story to Clive Barker.

  Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth still (photograph credit Keith Payne).

  I think I know Clive well enough to assert that if you give him a rule book, his first instinct will be to torch it: tell him what he can’t do and he’ll gleefully roll up his sleeves and dive right in. Catch him in a mischievous mood, and he’ll be the first to say, “Look, this is an entertainment I dreamed up to enliven a drab Tuesday afternoon in February. It’s not that big of a deal.” Or, as he once said to an audience when sharing a stage with me at a Fangoria convention, “It’s just a guy with a bunch of nails banged into his head. Get over it.”

  But this is Clive Barker, so it’s not quite that easy, is it? As with all his work, the ideas in his divertissement of a dysfunctional family and the nasty secret in its attic, his sonata for puzzle box, hooks and chains, linger in the mind long after the film has finished: fascinating and frightening, delighting and disturbing. And it has continued to do that for millions of people around the planet across nearly two decades, eight (to date) films and numerous comic strips, graphic novels and who knows what other manifestations.

  Paul Kane with Doug Bradley at the British Fantasy Society Open Night 2 September 2005 (copyright Paul Kane).

  But this is why we come to horror films after all, isn’t it? Not just to hide behind our hands and the sofa cushions, to squirm at the gore and jump at the shocks. For me, the ideas and the imagery in a horror film have always been as important as anything else. And it’s the nature of those ideas that draws us in, the deeper, darker—dare I say it—more profound ideas than you’re going to find in, say, the average Richard Curtis movie. In the—God help us all—nearly forty years that I’ve known him, it is that realm that Clive has been restlessly and relentlessly roaming. Paul Kane has, wisely or otherwise, chosen to follow in the great man’s footsteps, to reach down into the reeking heart of this mythology and see what he comes up with. I’ll leave it to you to find out exactly what that might be, but I can assure you that he has left few, if any, stones unturned in his pursuit. It would be, perhaps, facile of me to say that he has such sights to show you, but the simple fact is, he has.

  Doug Bradley

  London, Fall 2006

  PREFACE

  Welcome to Hell.

  By opening this book you have entered into an agreement. The contents are only for those with a craving, a passion to learn about the Hellraiser mythos, primarily the cinematic interpretations, but also its intrusion into other artistic and cultural forms. If you are not ready to witness such sights, then this book may not be for your eyes. But if you come with me I guarantee an experience that will stay with you for eternity.

  And as with most legends it all began with one person: a storyteller.

  “I have seen the future of Horror and his name is Clive Barker.” It is perhaps appropriate that with these almost prophetic words of praise from the one-man American horror factory that is Stephen King, audiences were introduced to the shocking yet spectacular cinematic vision of Clive Barker. For there they were in big white letters preceding the trailer to the very first Hellraiser movie, unleashed upon an unsuspecting public in 1987. I say it was appropriate because these two masters of the macabre have much in common. Both are, of course, best-selling novelists. Both stamp their own inimitable signature on anything they produce—so much so that readers soon spotted the connection between King and his literary alter ego, Richard Bachman. But, more significantly, both have also written and directed movies in their time.

  However, while King’s attempt at filmmaking resulted in a critical and box office failure (Maximum Overdrive, 1986),1 Barker’s first commercially released film went on to become one of the most distinctive and chilling pieces of celluloid since Night of the Living Dead (George A. Romero, 1968) or The Exorcist (William Friedkin, 1973), spawning a franchise which is still active today. At the time of this writing there have been seven motion picture sequels (taking in a variety of genres from science fiction and historical to murder mystery and serial killer), a number of spin-off comics, and even been talk of a TV production. Horror and film fans regularly cite the original movie as among their favorites,2 and it groomed a legion of devoted fans worldwide eager to taste more of the pleasures on offer. The British Film Institute’s Companion to Horror acknowledged its contribution to the continuing redefining of the genre in the late twentieth century3 and its far-reaching stylistic legacy can be detected in films such as Cube (Vincenzo Natali, 1997), Event Horizon (Paul W.S. Anderson, 1997), Dark City (Alex Proyas, 1998), The Cell (Tarsem Singh, 2000), The Matrix Reloaded/Revolutions (The Wachowski Brothers, 2003), Hellboy (Guillermo del Toro, 2004) and White Noise (Geoffrey Sax, 2005), as well as in TV series such as The X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (most notably in the silent Gentlemen of “Hush”), Star Trek: The Next Generation (who could fail to notice the similarities between the Borg and their Cenobite counterparts?) and Farscape (the character of Scorpius). The series’ figurehead was even immortalized on that most reliable gauge of public opinion, The Simpsons (in a 1994 Halloween special).

  But what makes its conception even more remarkable is the fact that the first movie was shot in the director’s native England. Admittedly, funding came from the U.S., but this was still an achievement at a time when the UK’s cinematic contributions to the horror scene could be listed on the back of a small tombstone. In the days when Hammer’s productions were a distant memory, Barker was one of the few talents attempting to revitalize the industry on British shores, as recognized in Steve Chibnall and Julian Petley’s British Horror Cinema, which called him “One of Britain’s undoubted horror auteurs.”4

  Clive Barker at the Forbidden Planet signing for Weaveworld in London, 1987 (courtesy Forbidden Planet; photograph credit Dick Jude).

  Because of his involvement at every stage of the film, from writing the novella on which it was based to providing demon drawings and hand painting special effects onto film cells, there certainly is a case for Hellraiser being not only one of the landmark horror films of all time, but also a true auteur movie.5 The titles don’t just say Hellraiser, they say Clive Barker’s Hellraiser. Barker would be the first to admit that he approached the venture knowing relatively little about directing, and that the support of experts like cinematographer Robin Vidgeon and make-up effects man Bob Keen was invaluable, but the film sits very neatly within his canon of work as a whole. The look is pure Barker, as are the themes and the ambitious scope, something that ensuing writers and directors picked up on then extended even further.

  As so often happens, nobody who worked on the movie could comprehend just how much of a phenomenon Hellraiser would become, though most did realize they were creating something more cerebral than its contemporaries. To quote Keen: “I think we thought it was going to be a good film, an original film. But I don’t think we thought it would be as big—you couldn’t possibly imagine ... I think we thought it would be a stepping stone to other projects, but it really caught the imagination of the audience.”6

  And there can be no doubt that much of this has to do with the central character of Pinhead himself. Unwittingly, Barker—with the help of Keen, partner Geoff Portass, and actor Doug Bradley—gave the genre and popular culture one of its enduring icons. A figure that could so easily have been presented as a disgusting mess was turned into something outlandish and transfixing, elegant and even beautiful, in its own way. Viewers embraced Pinhead, ensuring that he would be the one constant factor throughout the history of the film series, and that he would develop during the course of that time on screen. We would discover his background, see him run amok on earth, toy with the lives of key individuals, and finally return full circle. It would also mean fame for the man who played him, having his image plastered twenty feet high on billboard posters.

  Barker, too, was catapulted to celebrity status because of Hellraiser, as his app
earances on chat shows and TV programs testified—allowing him, like his champion King, to reach a much wider audience and readership. Although he limited his involvement after the first movie—to executive producer, occasional consultant, a name at the beginning, “Clive Barker Presents”—and concentrated more on his books and painting than directing, the originator of this series has returned to its themes time and time again, so much so that a current cinematic project (at the time of this writing) revolves around the Cenobite-esque Tortured Souls, and a novella in his new fiction collection, Scarlet Gospels, features Pinhead, albeit recounting his demise. Barker’s presence is perpetually felt and his bloody fingerprints will always be on the screen, in spite of the fact that he had to give up the cinematic rights to the characters to get the first installment made. In essence, it was Barker’s own deal with the Devil.

  Not a bad price to pay, some might argue, for it has secured his place in history. But it is the history of Hellraiser in its entirety that this book is about. And now that the introductions—and warnings—are over and done with, the examination can at last begin.

  Time to play.

  1

  THE ROAD TO HELL

  The road to Hell, they say, is paved with good intentions. But in Clive Barker’s universe it is paved only with desire, torture, suffering, and exquisite pleasure.

  Clive Barker was born in Liverpool on October 5, 1952, to a father who worked in industrial relations and a mother who was a schoolteacher. From an early age, there were incidents and events that informed his later work. For instance, he attributes his own fear of—and fascination with—blood to a distressing caesarean birth: “There was a series of traumatic first impressions of the world, which I believe have become a leitmotif of terror for me. A lot of noise. Panicked voices ... I think the first few minutes of my life were just horrible.”1 Most significantly, with regards to Hellraiser, Barker’s grandfather was a ship’s cook who brought him back exotic presents from the Far East. One of these just happened to be a puzzle box that Barker spent hours trying to solve.