|
(photos courtesy of tedvmikels.com) |
|
Unitshifter: How did you first get involved in filmmaking? Ted V. Mikels: When I was a little kid I used to develop film in the bathtub. I used to put developer in little glass vials, and I made a little flash box to expose the case of Kodak paper negatives that I developed, and that's how I started. I was still in grade school.
U: So did you start out directing, or did you work your way up? T: Well, actually it was directing first, and then I realized that in order to get the shots I wanted, I had to be a cameraman, so I could clearly explain what it is that I wanted. I was never really happy, so I actually started out writing, directing, shooting, and editing all at the same time. U: Have you always worked mainly as an independent filmmaker? T: Always as an independent. I've done a lot of things for other people, but not the major studios. You've gotta have an 'in.' I was at Columbia pictures studios for a couple of years, and Samuel Goldwyn studios for three or four years, Universal studios…but they basically are rental houses. They're renting their facility. I had beautiful offices at Columbia and Goldwyn, but they don't finance it. So I've always been self-financed. I had to dig up a buck any way I could. U: Would you describe most of your films as exploitation films, or do you not like that term?
U: Were you interested in getting into horror movies from the beginning? T: No, not really at all. My first one was an outdoor action adventure, Strike Me Deadly. I spent ten years making little things, but none of them were horror. It wasn't until 1967 with Wayne Rogers that I did my Astro Zombies, which I had intended to be pure science fiction. Wayne wanted to make it into a campy horror, so that's what it became. Then I found out that Hollywood was more receptive to independently made horror films than they were independently made other films! So you get stuck. U: Did the drive-in market help you? T: The drive-in market was a godsend for us. With the demise of the drive-in market began the demise of the independent moviemaker. We had drive-ins that did as much as $40,000 with fifty cent and one dollar per car tickets. But all that's changed. The drive-in owners found they could sell their property for more money than they could make with the drive-in theater! U: Are you making any films now? T: Yes, I'm gonna start marketing now. The last five years I've made five films nonstop, including Corpse Grinders 2 and Mark of the Astro-Zombies. Right now I'm doing The Cauldron: Baptism of Blood. I'm editing that now, because witchcraft is interesting. It's the sequel to my 1973 Blood Orgy of the She Devils. That's for some of the people who…I very warmly accept the fact that they call themselves "fans" …they were urging me to do a witchcraft picture, a sequel to Blood Orgy. So I did. U:
Is it mainly going to be marketed direct-to-DVD? T: There's not much else for independents. What else can you do? The European markets want big movies with big stars, the domestic theatrical market is gone. You don't stand a chance if you don't have a 100 million dollar movie with another million to promote it and get the majors behind you. You don't stand a chance. I made these last five with the hopes and the prayer that I would go theatrical with them, but it's too tough. And now everyone in the world is making their own movie. It's like, if everyone grows potatoes, who you gonna sell yours to? But after this last one, I'm gonna go back into distribution. I was in distribution here in Hollywood for seventeen years. I'm gonna go back into distribution, and market my stuff. My old stuff is still playing all around the world, illegally. People are using my films in the home video market all around the world. They don't have the right to do it, the films are copyrighted by me and I own 'em. But you can't collect, and you can't stop 'em. How am I gonna go to Sweden and stop someone from bootlegging some of my movies? (At this point the conversation is interrupted by a drunk guy screaming out on Hollywood Blvd.) U: Do you live in Hollywood? T: I was thirty years living in Hollywood, I moved out to Vegas fifteen years ago. I have a studio right across from Mandalay Bay, loaded with every possible camera, everything I brought from Hollywood, and everything I've added since I've been there. I make my movies there, where you have a lot of sun. U: Is it easier for you to work in Vegas than it is for you to work here?
U: You own a castle? T: I had a castle in Glendale for fourteen years. There's a documentary available called King of the Castle, which ran on the Discovery Channel for three years. I had a lively thing going on there. Six or eight girls at a time, about 60 girls, I taught 'em how to make movies, how to become wardrobe people, make-up girls… U: So you had your own harem? T: Oh yeah…if you don't know the story, you'll have to look it up! U: Alright, I'll do some research on that! |
When
I was in the eighth grade, I was awarded a part in a film that was
to be done with Merle Oberon and William Powell. That was just at
the start of the war, and I was selected out of 300 kids to play
the boy. The war interrupted the production, and it never did get
off the ground. But I was doing magic, ventriloquism, acrobatics,
accordion solos, and I had a show. By the time I was fifteen, I
had a two-and-a-half-hour live stage show. I wanted to film it,
so I got a camera and set it out there, and was trying to film my
show, and I figured out that you have to move the camera around
to get different angles, and then you have to edit the film when
you're done. So that's how I got started, and I've been doing it
for well over fifty years. 55, 57 years I've been making theatrical
films.
T:
Actually, It's a better name than some of the things they call 'em…The
only difference between my movies and the big budget movies are
the stars, because that's where the money is spent. Film costs the
same, my raw stock for 
T:
I get tired of working in Hollywood. All the little outlying areas
started charging humungous amounts of money to shoot in their little
cities and so on. We got turned away or stopped enough times for
me to get totally discouraged, even in my castle in Glendale. The
city tried to stop me from shooting in my own home. And that's when
I decided, "enough of that." They're not gonna force me
to get firemen and policemen and all that, in my own home.