Trancers IV screening

Originally published October 29, 1993, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1041

I am sitting on the stairs outside the room, rocking slightly, feeling the twisted knots in my stomach, and trying to decide once more whether I should go to the men’s room and throw up.

Me right before “The Great Debate?” Hardly. That wasn’t for two weeks yet.

(Oh, sure, the debate had become something of an albatross already. A call-in radio interview to a new Chicago program about comics had had approximately the first eight minutes dedicated to discussing the thing. It had left me two minutes to talk about everything else going on in my life, making me sound like the Modern Major General. (“There’s Sachs & Violens, Soulsearchers and Spidey 2099 and Hulk.”) At a Minneapolis comics convention, the debate was not the first question I received in my solo slot; it was the second. Since Todd’s likely goal in this matter was not dissemination of information (a letter would have accomplished that) but publicity for himself, he had already more than accomplished that.)

No, my nervousness was generated by something else entirely. I was seated (crouched, perched) outside a screening room at Paramount Pictures (or whatever the hëll they might wind up calling it this week), where the cast and crew of Trancers IV was assembling. Charlie Band, the head of Full Moon Entertainment, was screening the movie for all involved, plus the Paramount executive suit types.

(For those who came in late, Trancers is a series of adventure films starring Tim Thomerson as a time travelling detective named Jack Deth. I wrote the fourth and fifth installments in the series which filmed earlier this year, simultaneously, in Romania, the low budget film capital of the world. Avoiding the science fiction trappings of the first three, I took the series off in a different direction and dropped the hero in an alternate-dimension sword-and-sorcery environment.)

In reality, there was no reason to be nervous. It’s not like this was going to be a hostile audience; it was the equivalent of playing in front of the home team crowd. Better, actually. The home team crowd can turn on you (just ask the Mets.) It didn’t seem tremendously likely that people were going to start throwing things at the screen.

I wasn’t going to have all that many opportunities to see the film on a genuine movie screen. Trancers IV is another Full Moon blockbuster release—meaning that it’s going to be released in Blockbuster and similar straight-to-video outlets. Nevertheless, the enthusiasm and effort put into the film by cast and crew could not have been any greater were the film going to be released nationally with the premiere being held at Mann’s Chinese Theater.

My friend and occasional collaborator, Bill Mumy, stands there and watches me fighting the dry heaves. “Do you ever feel like this before something like this?” I ask him. “Oh sure,” he says. “I get that way all the time. Bathroom’s right over there. You should throw up, if it’ll make you feel better.” Somehow, though, I can’t bring myself to do that. If nothing else, I find unappetizing the thought of saying “hi” to people or (as is big in Hollywood) hugging or kissing someone, and smelling of vomit. So I bring myself under control and head into the screening room.

There is something strangely unreal about seeing all the actors in the relatively mundane setting of Los Angeles. Somehow Romania took on its own reality. As unreasonable as it may seem, it nevertheless feels odd to see these folks away from their “normal” (to me) environment of the Buftea Studios half an hour out of Bucharest.

Nevertheless, it’s great to see everyone. The cloistered, sequestered nature of filming a movie in a foreign country brought everyone together there, giving a strong feeling of family. Everyone is greeting everyone else, hugging and kissing and no one stinking of vomit, so I figure my strategy was the right one.

Not everyone is there. Tim Thomerson is conspicuously absent, working on a film in South Africa. When it comes to working cast members, he’s in the minority. Terri Ivens, who plays our intrepid rebel leader, Shaleen, has a recurring role in Roseanne as Darlene’s roommate. Another actress, Stacie Randall, has just come off a Catwoman-like role in Ghoulies IV, another straight-to-video release that was significantly less enjoyable for her than Trancers IV. Our director, David Nutter, was patient and meticulous. The Ghoulies director was not interested in waiting for lighting to be correct, or any of the details that make so much difference in a film. “David Nutter spoiled me,” wails Stacie.

Jeff Moldovan, our stunt coordinator, is back in Romania working on another Full Moon project. David, our director, is up in Vancouver working on an episode of The X-Files, a program on Fox.

Everyone else is back to the usual job of being an actor, which is having no job. It strikes me as a remarkably difficult life that must have to mean a lot to you in order for you to pursue it. Kind of like writing, now that I think about it.

I’m busy anticipating that, after the film, the Trancers family will head out to some big celebratory meal or drinks or something like that. Then the lights start to come down and the opening credits begin to roll. As in most instances where I’m worked up about something, the nervousness vanishes the moment that the actual event is at hand.

I have been with this film every step of the way, watched every piece of it. I’ve been there for filming, watched dailies. (I have three hours worth of dailies at home.) I’ve seen preliminary cut-together scenes. I have a rough cut of the film: The entire movie, but without music, sound effects, visual effects, and all the other aspects that turn a filmed story into a movie.

I have listened to a tape of the music so many times that entire cuts are committed to memory. But I have yet to see it all pieced together. No matter how long you study the individual parts of a jigsaw puzzle, they’re not going to resemble the final image until you see them assembled.

The opening titles come on, and immediately there is a confused murmur from a handful of audience members. I know why. It’s the title. The working title had been Trancers IV: Deth’s Door. After filming, however, this title was dropped because, frankly, it rhymed, and, therefore, sounded a little stupid.

A vast array of suggested titles followed from a variety of sources, virtually all of them having the name “Deth” in them as the previous three had. The one finally chosen was Angel of Deth, which I absolutely hated. Oh, it was a perfectly good title for, say, a film about a serial killer who preyed on clergymen. But it didn’t seem to have anything remotely to do with our film. Just who was the “Angel” of the title supposed to be, anyway? Finally I approached Charlie Band with yet another possibility, utilizing both the sword-and-sorcery venue and our hero’s first name: Jack of Swords. Charlie said he liked it, but informed me it was too late. The opening credits were already done. At which point I dropped it.

But Charlie didn’t. Upon subsequent reflection, he decided he liked the title too much to let it go, and so he spent the extra money and recut the opening sequence (at, literally, the last moment). Thus the confusion from some audience members as Trancers IV: Jack of Swords appeared on the screen.

As familiar as I was with the film in its earlier stages, it was like watching something entirely different upon seeing the final product. Some random thoughts:

*The cast member who seemed to be having the best time at the screening was also the oldest: Alan Oppenheimer, who played the Obi-Wan-esque wise man, Farr. He laughed the most loudly at the jokes, and seemed the most appreciative of the entire film. Oppenheimer is a long-time character actor, and I imagine that one does not stay in the extremely demanding world of show business for that long unless one really enjoys it.

*Seeing the words “Screenplay by Peter David” on the screen thrilled me more than I thought it would.

*A number of the smaller parts were played by Romanian actors, and all of their voices were subsequently looped by American actors. It was unavoidable: When you have the principal characters speaking with what’s termed a mid-Atlantic accent, sounding as if they wandered in from the Old Vic, you can’t have the supporting cast talking like Bela Lugosi. Particularly since most of them were unfamiliar with English and had to struggle with the lines, anyway. Example: a female character named Titania is heard to say, “If you harm him, I’ll kill you.” That’s the final version. But previously it sounded like this: “Eeef yooo haarhm heeem, I keeel yoo.”

That was not a hard-and-fast attitude, however. In the rough cut that I saw, I was impressed by the British actor they had gotten for a minor character named Borgia. I asked the director where they’d found him. “Isn’t he great?” said Dave Nutter. “He’s Romanian; he was putting on a British accent.” He remained undubbed.

*During several sequences in production, I served as a stand-in. When the leering torturer approaches Jack Deth, sizzling poker at the ready, he was actually coming toward me. When Titania lunges forward with her sword to stab a character, I was standing off camera providing the target with an upraised palm. That woman stabbed my hand a dozen times. Come to think of it, by the time I left the filming, I was starting to feel pretty dámņëd paranoid.

*Different actors around me reacted differently when they came on the screen. Some watched intently. Some grinned. Some looked away. Interesting.

*Unquestionably, the sequence that got the best reaction was when Jack Deth’s main weapon, the long second watch, malfunctions. Instead of slowing the rest of the world down, it slowed down only Jack himself. The effect was done not in camera, but instead by having Tim Thomerson moving in slow motion. Thomerson pulled it off to perfection.

*My cameo appearance made the final cut. Jack Deth has just broken free from his imprisonment in the torture chamber. He’s standing at a table, getting his weapons together. Suddenly from off camera my voice is heard, shouting, “The Prisoner! He’s escaping!” I charge on and Jack cuts my throat. I go down, making gagging noises—except it’s not my voice doing the choking. The noises I produced on the set were not loud enough, and so Dave Nutter himself provided my last gasps in post-production. Nevertheless, I’ve made my (albeit brief) film debut. I would tend to think that there are some individuals out there who will probably watch that sequence very slowly, savoring every frame.

*It’s interesting to watch the final credits on a film roll wherein the names up there actually mean something to you.

The lights come up and everyone is congratulating each other. Mumy’s gone on ahead to make some phone calls. Me, I’m still savoring the moment. We’re all heading outside and I’m wondering where we’re going to go together. After all, we’re a unit, aren’t we? The Trancers family, as it were? What’s next, guys?

And the cast and crew shakes hands with one another, and people head off to their respective cars. And they drive off to go on about their separate business. On to the next thing.

And I’m left alone in front of the screening room.

Cut. Print.

The end.