'Monstrosity' is gutter auteur Andy Milligan's take on Frankenstein

 

Essay and review by Doug Gibson

Rob Craig’s book on Andy Milligan, Gutter Auteur: The Films of Andy Milligan, is aptly named. Milligan, who died nearly 35 years ago, made films designed for 42^nd Street. The sleazier the “Deuce” got, it didn’t matter; a Milligan film would provide well for its audience.

Jimmy McDonough, who penned the superb biography, “The Ghastly One: The Sex-Gore Netherworld of Filmmaker Andy Milligan,” recounts Milligan’s early career, when there might have been an opportunity for him to break through bohemia and into a mainstream career. In the ‘60s, he wrote, acted and directed plays in such iconic locations as Caffe Cino and La MaMa Experimental Theater. A short film he directed in 1965,”Vapors,” is well regarded as an early gay-themed film. It played art houses on both coasts.

But McDonough also chronicles a horrific familial life Milligan endured, and it likely affected his career, as he feuded with producers and distributors, and could be tyrannical, even cruel, when directing. After making some late-feature adult drama films that are unfortunately lost (some attracted better than average reviews and box office) Milligan settled down into grindhouse horror direction. William Mishkin was his money man. Milligan would get $20,000 or so, spend half of it making a film, and presumably pay himself with the excess.

A dress-maker who ran a shop for a while, Milligan made garish period pieces. He made versions of horror films, including “Torture Dungeon,” (Richard the Third), “Blood,” (House of Dracula), “The Body Beneath,” (Dracula), “The Rats are Coming. The Werewolves are Here,” (The Wolf Man/Willard), “The Man with Two Heads,” (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde), “Nightbirds,” (The Servant) and “Bloodthirsty Butchers,” (Sweeney Todd).

Drawing on his dysfunctional life, he made psychological, violent films that assailed marriage (The Ghastly Ones,” religion, “Guru the Mad Monk,” and family life, “Seeds.” He even made a poignant, downbeat porno/adult film, “Fleshpot on 42^nd Street,” that is a commentary on life where his films were often shown.

Occasionally Milligan would attempt to move from Mishkin to other producers. He even made films in England. But most films were with Mishkin.

For a long while, Milligan lived in Staten Island, and some films were shot at his home. He eventually bought and lived in a Staten Island hotel where he shot a couple of films. He then moved to Manhattan and ran an off-Broadway theater, The Troupe, for several years.

Perhaps feeling his age, and disgusted with the decay of Manhattan, Milligan moved to Los Angeles in the mid ‘80s. He resumed much of his past life, opening an ill-fated dress shop, started a Troupe West playhouse which lasted a few years, and made some movies. Milligan, a gay man, also settled into a relationship with a younger man, a sometimes hustler, named Wayne Keeton.

Milligan made three films in Los Angeles: “The Weirdo,” an interesting remake of a lost film that involved a bullied young man in a dysfunctional family. He also directed (for hire) a film, a comedy horror titled “Surgikill.’

In between Milligan kind of reunited with the Mishkin family to direct “Monstrosity.” Lew Mishkin, William’s son, provided the money. Andy and Lew hated each other, but the VHS boom probably motivated the ulta-low-budget film, which is Milligan’s take on the Frankenstein monster, with a little bit of the Golem thrown in.

None of Milligan’s ‘80s films made any money. The video boom was over. “The Weirdo” perhaps had a tiny VHS release, and later a Blu-Ray. “Surgikill” sat on the shelf for decades. ‘Monstrosity” economically fared no better. It may have had a small Europe VHS release. It finally found a DVD home early in the 21^st century and a Blu-Ray release in 2018.

Yet “Monstrosity” is my favorite Milligan LA film, and I feel comfortable saying it’s the most cultish of his last films. It’s dreadfully cheap, with typical Milligan gore (a couple steps below Herschell Gordon Lewis). The first 25 minutes – despite interesting film-noirish shots of sleazy ‘80s Los Angeles – is torture porn.

Stereotypical punks kill and maim random people on the streets. They rape and badly injure a young woman. While in what’s supposed to be a hospital room – but looks like a bedroom – one of the killers, pretending to be an orderly, savagely kills her, removing her intestines (again poor special effects). Her grieving boyfriend, along with a couple buddies, decide to create a Golem-like monster to get revenge. In an outdoor shed, they do just that and name the creation “Frankie.” Get it?

Readers may be wondering why I keep watching. But once Frankie arrives – played by frequent Milligan actor Hal Borske – “Monstrosity” turns into something special, the unique work, indeed, of a gutter auteur. As Craig writes in “Gutter Auteur …,” “… “Monstrosity” is an amazing, baffling and at times extraordinary film, equal parts social satire, slapstick farce and light fantasy, awash in the overall sheen of the horror-comedy mythos. … “Monstrosity” is Andy Milligan’s “Frankenstein,’ a conceit stated overtly by one of the characters, and vividly illustrated via the film’s main plot points.”

Borske's Frankie captures the spirit of Mary Shelley’s creation. He’s a monstrous innocent, initially trusting in his creators but learning the downbeat, dysfunctional lesson that most of the world hates him, and his creators only want to control him.

It’s not an irony, but merely obvious, that Borske’s Frankie, despite his deadly violence, is the most humane character in “Monstrosity.” And Milligan throws in a love interest, a dim-witted, oft-abused but gentle drug addict named Jamie Lee, played by Carrie Anita. It’s a marvelous performance by an actress I doubt was in another film.

Milligan never did love better than in this film as the relationship between a monster and a street girl seems natural. In wacky fashion, the pair are married by a guardian angel. During intimacy blood, rather than semen, shoots from other parts of Frankie’s body.

The cruel murder of Jamie Lee by Frankie’s creators leads to a revenge-filled bloody climax.

The final scene of “Monstrosity” is a cult gem. Author Craig accurately tags it as “allegorical.” Frankie sits on a public bench chatting away with a “bag lady’ named Agnes. They converse about life and the things they’ve learned through existence. Frankie is mellow, a bit downbeat but also optimistic, prepared to use his brain to be the best man he can be. What I like most in this final scene is that Frankie seems to have blended in with life on the street. His contemporaries aren’t alarmed by his conventionally grotesque appearance.

The camera moves up into an epilogue where Milligan shouts “Cut, that’s a wrap! Then cast and crew members join Frankie and Agnes on the street. It’s another cultish touch that probably wouldn’t have been included had the film received an initial release.

After “Monstrosity” there was the for-hire “Surgikill.” Milligan’s boyfriend Keeton died of AIDS. Soon afterwards Milligan was diagnosed with AIDS. The Troupe West playhouse closed and Milligan died in 1991. Author McDonough, who worked on the crew on “Monstrosity,” relates Milligan’s horrific final days. By then a pauper, Milligan is buried in an unmarked grave.

If you want to learn more about Andy Milligan, you can purchase McDonough’s’ updated biography and Craig’s analysis book here, and here. You can search ebay or other sites for issues 52, 53 and 54 of Tim Lucas’ Video Watchdog, to read a three-part series on Milligan. And Plan9Crunch blog has a detailed look at the making of “Surgikill” by its writer, the late Sherman Hirsh. Andy, in rascal fashion, conned Sherman into believing he never made films in England, but it’s a great read. And Plan9Crunch blog interviewed McDonough a long while ago. Many of Milligan's films are reviewed at Plan9Crunch.com.

Andy Milligan biographer Jimmy McDonough talks about 'The Ghastly One ...'

It's no secret that at Plan9Crunch, we are fans of the cult filmmaker Andy Milligan. His no-budget grindhouse films of a generation ago had a unique stamp that defined Milligan's compelling, dysfunctional style. Milligan died of AIDS almost 20 years ago, broke and more or less forgotten. Biographer Jimmy McDonough spent time with Milligan in his final years, and helped with a couple of his later films. His biography of Milligan captures the life Milligan led, from Cafe Cino productions, off-0ff Broadway productions, grindhouse filmmaking and his gay, hustling lifestyle that led to his death. We sent Jimmy several questions about Milligan, and he was kind enough to answer them with candor and insight. McDonough has written several acclaimed biographies that include the lives of Neil Young, Russ Meyer, and his latest, due out in about a week, Tammy Wynette. http://www.amazon.com/Tammy-Wynette-Tragic-Country-Queen/dp/0670021539 Here's the interview, unedited, conducted by Doug Gibson and Steve Stones. Thanks again, Jimmy!
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1) How much of an influence did Cafe Cino have on the evolution of grindhouse (42nd St.) cinema and eventually on mainstream cinema?

McDonough: I'm not sure it had any influence on 42nd Street. It had a great deal of influence on Andy, though. Freedom. It gave him the license to create. And to make flesh certain fantasies lurking in his mind. Very powerful, that. If I had a time machine that is one place I'd go back to...the Cino, to watch one of Milligan's productions. Better yet, watching Andy watching of his productions. See those beady little eyes dancing as he utters a low, evil chuckle, all while watching a couple of actors beat up on one another. I think the Cino days held great promise for Andy. He had a big framed picture of Joe Cino, an unusually sentimental thing for Milligan. I still have it."

2) Why didn't Andy Milligan, in your opinion, make it out of the grindhouses as a director, given that he had more critical success at Cafe Cino and as an off-Broadway theater director? McDonough: "He was self-destructive. Milligan refused to tailor his act for anybody. He was incapable of it. And Andy could be an angry, angry guy. It scared people. Producer William Mishkin was the only one who could deal with Andy for more than a picture or two, and even that relationship was fraught with tension. Mishkin gave him the opportunity to make movies, but it was never financially rewarding enough to lead anywhere. The limitations were always the same--and primarily it was, "make it for nothing." Bill was a very cautious individual who wanted to see a return for every dollar spent. Andy was caught in a trick bag, stuck on the Mishkin plantation. All he could do was grind out one cheapo film after another. Eventually he burned out and grew very bitter about it all."

3) There seems to be mixed accounts as to whether or not Milligan actually made some of his films in England. One individual told us that he did not make any of his films there. Can you somehow confirm if Milligan did/did not make any of his films in England? What evidence or information do you have to suggest that Milligan did indeed film in England?

McDonough: Didn't make any films in England?!? You can't be serious. What poppycock. Is this the same "individual" who goes around claiming Andy wasn't homosexual? Bloodthirsty Butchers, The Body Beneath, Nightbirds, The Man with Two Heads, The Rats Are Coming... were all shot in England (parts of Rats were shot on Staten Island). The English estate where Milligan shot Body Beneath and Rats--do you think that's a set? Done with CGI? All the overseas actors--Berwick Kaler, Julie Shaw, Annabella Wood, Dennis DeMarne, so many others--did Andy fly them all to Staten Island? He didn't have enough in the budget to buy the crew coffee! You read the book, right? Reliable witnesses like John Borske and John Miranda are quoted about working with Andy overseas. Andy HIMSELF talks about living and working in England. He made films for an English producer, Leslie Elliot, also quoted in the book. Are they liars? Did I make it all up? What would be the point of such a conspiracy, anyway?"

4) What are your thoughts as to whether or not Milligan will ever achieve the cult status of someone like Ed Wood? Could Milligan ever achieve the same status as Wood, and could you envision Hollywood ever making a big budget film of his life, like Tim Burton did of Ed Wood? If Milligan will never achieve the status of Ed Wood, why is this?

McDonough: There was a certain innocence about Ed Wood (however angora-swathed) Milligan never had. Andy comes from a grimier, more recent time. He kind of picks up where Wood left off. Every week I get more and more mail about Andy. So something is happening, however tiny. Much to my amusement, there has been talk of a film of The Ghastly One, but I don't see how that particular environment could ever be replicated. Maybe in England. Don't tell anybody!"

5). In your own view, what is it specifically that makes Milligan films so sought after by cult film fans? What is his appeal to you as a writer?

McDonough: You know how there are these utterly obscure 45s that record fanatics savor? Some nobody--let's call him Herman--cuts a few great records at midnight in the back of a radio station and only 500 copies slip out to the world. Herman doesn't make a dime, works his entire life as a high school custodian, then dies of cirrosis of the liver at his Mom's house. Twenty years later he has a fan club in Sweden and the French are writing books about him. Suddenly Herman's got a cult! It may only be twenty-six people, but they're willing to die for the guy. Why? Who knows. Something in what Herman did struck a chord within these few. And if one person catches the virus, it's a given somebody else will get it, too. That's one of the few things that makes life bearable: sharing a movie or a book or a song with another person. Suddenly you're not alone. Everything's so homogenized these days, it's like it all comes out of the same fast-food vat. Movies are so slick, TV is all the same reality show, the radio's filled with songs that have been AutoTuned free of emotion. There's no use crying about it, that's just the way things work. The Model T turns into the PT Cruiser. You can't escape it. Andy is a refreshing antidote to all that. His is a timeless world, a dirty aquarium swimming with threadbare thespians in outlandish costumery, all of them ranting and raving the Milligan world view. Within seconds you know where you are, and it isn't pretty. There's something so original, so crackpot about the vision. For better and for worse, there's nothing remotely like it. Andy's movies are looking better and better as the years go by. I think I was too hard on his films in the book. That's the only thing I regret about The Ghastly One. What appeals to me most of all is that Milligan did it against all odds. People laughed at him, told him he was no good. He kept right on going. Make no mistake, Andy was an artist. You may think his art is something that should be scraped off the bottom of your shoe, but he was a true artist until the bitter end. One of the many reasons I admired him."

6) Milligan is noted for his "swirl technique" in early films, as well as long shots and facial closeups. Is this all due to the limitations and weight advantages, of an Auricon, or did he have his own style techniques that he deliberately used?

McDonough: "I think it was a combination plate. Andy couldn't be bothered by technical things, even the simplest adjustments that would've made his films a thousand times more bearable. The guy had no patience. Try to show him a different way of doing anything and he went berserk. Yes, he was affected by the limitations of his equipment, but primarily he was driven by emotions that way were beyond his control. Andy was a walking, talking 'swirl camera.' So that seeped out of his fingers and through the 16mm Auricon. His 35mm pictures are more earthbound. You couldn't 'swirl' that tank."

7) I was watching Tom Vazzo on a GURU DVD extra talking about working with Milligan's later films. He has little nice to say about Milligan's film-making. You were there for a couple of films. I'd like you to relate some positives of Milligan's skills that showed up even in a film such as Monstrosity?

McDonough: "You can't judge Andy by Hollywood (or even 'Independent Filmmaker') standards. He existed in a creepy little snowglobe all his own. Milligan made pictures for no money. NO MONEY. Anybody who's worked in the film business knows how hard it is to make a movie, particularly if you're a one man band like Milligan. There was something heroic in the way he did it. And he swept you up in the enthusiasm. It was the best fun ever. I wish you could've been there. I worked on big budget Hollywood pictures and it was a total bore. With Andy it was always total lunacy. Whenever I get together with Charlie Beesley, my primary cohort from those days, we end up doing impressions of Andy--or his much-beloved 'script girl' Frank Echols, who was always rolling his eyes at whatever atrocious faux pas Milligan had just committed. Honestly, I think of those times and I laugh out loud. Some of the happiest days of my life, working for Andy.

8) In The Ghastly One, you describe Milligan as an ill-tempered misanthrope capable of tantrums and vilifications, yet your affection for the man comes through in a genuine manner. Explain this paradox. How could someone who pushed so many people away from him be so well liked by you and others? 

McDonough: Explain? I don't think I can. My job as biographer is to evoke, not explain. Cantankerous, complex characters deserve friends, too. I've spent my life around them, and apparently I am one. Andy could be screaming about shooting drag queens one minute and then turn around and do something so kind and gentle you'd do a double-take. Not many people saw this side of him, but it was there. Not a day goes by that I don't think of Andy. I still wear the cowboy boots he gave me. I still have the cowboy shirts he made for me. And they still reek of his scent, which, I must tell you, is quite unforgettable. Eau d' Milligan!" 

9) Why were Milligan and other grindhouse filmmakers so easily manipulated and exploited by people such as the Mishkins, etc. Did they have any legal recourses they could have used?

McDonough: "I think a loaded gun would've worked much better. Those days were like the wild west. A handful of people held the power on 42nd Street. They controlled what played there. You wanted to play your pitiful little picture there, fine, but bend over first. A handful of distributors were savvy enough to swim in this shark tank and William Mishkin was one of them. He was the filter between Andy and the powers that be. Once Milligan lost Mishkin, it was really over for him. No way was he going to deal with somebody like Bingo Brandt and emerge without his feathers. I have a lot of respect for William Mishkin. Did he treat Andy as good as he could've? Probably not. But they made a lot of pictures together. And those lurid campaigns we all love came from Bill's feverish mind, nowhere else. In terms of exploitations campaigns the guy was a genius. I love the posters and pressbooks for Milligan's pictures as much as the movies themselves. I have a lot of respect for William Mishkin. Did he treat Andy as good as he could've? Probably not. But they made a lot of pictures together. And those lurid campaigns we all love came from Bill's feverish mind, nowhere else. In terms of exploitations campaigns the guy was a genius. I love the posters and pressbooks for Milligan's pictures as much as the movies themselves."

10) Do you think any "lost" Milligan films, such as The Naked Witch and "The Degenerates," might have prints that are still lurking out there somewhere?

McDonough: "You never know. I think I might've just located a 16mm reel that I believe is from "Depraved."

Last question: If you have any box office information on Milligan's films, we'd love to share that info on the blog. Also, any chance of a release of Nightbirds some day? (It took us a long time to find Torture Dungeon, Blood and Legacy of Horror, and I'm not sure the last two were worth it!

McDonough: "(I'm) happy that my collection of Milligan films now resides with the noted Danish director Nicolas Winding Refn and he plans on releasing them on DVD. Mr. Refn is just the man for the job. He loves all things Milligan and I know he'll do a great job with it all. A huge relief, that." Editor's Note: "Nightbirds" was released in 2012 by BFI DVD's Flip Side label with "The Body Beneath" and extras.