Before
he gained fame as Freddy Krueger in Nightmare
on Elm Street, Robert Englund made a low-budget thriller called Eaten Alive (originally titled Death Trap). The film, released in 1977,
gave him the opportunity to meet and work with one of his favorite actresses,
Carolyn Jones, among other stars. “It was just a strange moment in time, and I
cannot reiterate enough to you; it was magical,” Robert tells me. “It was one
of the most wonderful sets, to this day, that I’ve ever walked on to.”
Englund
played Buck, a patron at a brothel run by Miss Hattie, played by Carolyn Jones.
I interviewed Robert about what it was like on the set of that cult classic.
Because England’s parents were fans of Carolyn Jones, he was aware of her when
he was quite young. He developed what he calls a “weird, strange, beatnik, bohemian
crush” on her ever since he saw her starring role in A Hole in the Head.
Robert
Englund: The first kind of connection that I have to
Carolyn Jones is that my parents were huge fans, especially my mother. So I was
aware of Carolyn as an actress when I was quite young. And then I kind of have
this weird, strange, bohemian crush on her from A Hole in the Head.
The
reason is strange. It was not only her bangs and her sort of surfer girl,
beatnik, Goth persona but it was also that I was a young surfer, and if my
memory is right one of the props she had was a blue or turquoise surf board. It
was the first time I’d ever seen that unique look, sexuality, and the
surfboard, all of those things sort of bundled together. She really took up a
crease in the gray matter of my brain. And so that’s sort of the set-up with my
fascination with Carolyn Jones. Now obviously I saw her in other movies after
that, and she’s this wonderful, accomplished actress, and again my parents are
huge fans of hers. She was right up there in their pantheon of favorite women
actress of the time.
So
now it comes to happen years later that
I star in a couple of movies for “A” directors in Hollywood, and I’m at a bit
of a lull in my career. I’ve done a couple of small roles for “A” listers. I
had just finished starring in a Daniel Petrie film called Buster and Billie, then for Bob Rafelson I starred in a movie with
Jeff Bridges, Sally Field, Scatman Crothers and Arnold Schwarzenegger called Stay Hungry, based on an award-winning novel. This is sort of where I am, and I do some smaller parts
for the great Robert Aldrich. I killed Burt Reynolds in a movie and a couple of
other people, I’m on the Paramount lot, and they’re going to put me under
contract at Warner Brothers. In the middle of all of this, I get offered—and
this is what’s fun for you, James—my first horror movie. It’s Tobe Hooper who’s
done Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
I
go to work across the street from Paramount in the old Raleigh Studios, and I
walk onto the soundstage. It is the most miraculous thing I‘ve ever seen at
this stage in my life. It’s a Texas Victorian farmhouse in forced perspective
with monkeys chained in antique cages and Gila monsters and tumbleweeds and a
gravel driveway with a ’67 El Dorado Cadillac in perspective cactus and
Mesquite going into a cyclorama in the background. I go to work on this movie,
and I’m having lunch now with Mel Ferrer, the husband of Audrey Hepburn. I’m
hanging out with Stuart Whitman, and I’m with William Finley, and the fabulous Carolyn Jones!
Here’s
Carolyn Jones, and I’ve got lots of scenes with her, because Buck goes to the
whorehouse that she runs and she’s playing the madam. Because I love Hollywood—old movies and new movies
and all of kinds and theatre—I know so much about all of these people—William
Finley, Mel Ferrer, Stuart Whitman, Marilyn Burns, Carolyn Jones, Neville
Brand.
I’m
working on this movie and everything’s going fine. Apparently there’s a problem,
and I’m sort of sheltered from this. It’s a question you must ask of Tobe
Hooper. Tobe is either fired or let go or terminated, so now I don’t know any
of the details. And we’re all left there. By this time we all love Tobe. He’s
articulate, he’s intellectual, he’s funny, he’s smoking his Sherman cigarettes.
We all feel like we’re in really good hands with Tobe Hooper. He’s just a wonderful,
iconoclastic talent. We all want to be around him. But he’s gone. And I have a
lot of stuff left to shoot with Carolyn Jones and the whorehouse—the Texas
brothel—and I remember one break night when we’re working hard, and we’re
working without Tobe. And none of us know what’s happened here. We’re trying to
finish this movie. We think it might be a nasty, ugly, terrific little horror
movie because of the talent involved, we kind of liked the script, and the set where we’re all working on is phenomenal;
it’s wonderful. So now I’m working and I’ve done a marathon day, and here’s my Carolyn Jones punch line for you:
I’m working with Carolyn and some of the girls
playing the prostitutes. It’s midnight, and none of us are in a good mood.
Carolyn turns to everybody and she goes, “Darlings,
I’ve been Cinderella until now. At midnight, kids, I turn into a pumpkin.” I
remember that was her warning. She was no longer going to be nice or easy or
malleable or even professional, because we had all gone beyond the call of
duty. It was such a perfect moment, and she said it with such gusto. It wasn’t
diva; it was actually her reminding all of these young people that had taken or
fallen into the position of finishing the movie, that they’d better respect the talent. They need to
take care of us because we were the ones in front of the camera. And it was
this great, wonderful moment that I can close my eyes as I’m talking to you and
remember her standing there and saying it.
RE:
Well, here’s the thing you have to understand: before Tobe Hooper left the set
and after. When Tobe was working on the movie, even though we were working on a
giant killer chronicle, psycho horror movie, it was a great experience.
Everybody got along, everybody was welcoming. We all knew what we were making,
but when we walked through these giant sound stage doors we were in a magical
place. It might have been a low budget movie, but we knew it was going to be a
great little low budget movie. It was not joyous but everyone was kind of happy;
nobody was begrudging the fact that they were in a horror movie. People were
nice to each other and Carolyn was not unhappy. She only got testy after Tobe
Hooper was removed.
JP:
Eaten
Alive reunited Carolyn with Stuart Whitman. They had made a movie together, Johnny Trouble, in 1957. Do you
remember anything about their interaction?
RE:
You know, I’ll tell you why I don’t. They didn’t have a lot of scenes together
that I was part of. I saw them on the set together and I saw them talking. She
seemed to be fine. I was a little intimated by Stuart because I had seen a film
of his called Sands of the Kalahari, which
I really loved. But I do remember seeing Stuart and Carolyn talking and joshing
together on the set.
When
I was out in the coffee shops after we worked, I was mostly with Marilyn Burns
and Neville Brand, but I do remember having lunch with Carolyn Jones. It made
me feel so cool, that in her company, that other people from Paramount were
walking by and saw me with the
Carolyn Jones! I’m not sure if she wore a wig or her own hair, but she had this
great hairdo. She was wearing slacks and a nice blouse. And with that wig
on she looked young and beautiful still. It just made me feel great to be with Carolyn Jones! I just hung on to every
word. I would like limit myself to one or two questions about films of hers
that I like, and I tried not to be like a gushing fan. For a young actor in the
‘70s it was very intimidating.
JP: I understand that Carolyn was very accepting of
younger actors.
RE: Carolyn was welcoming, and would answer
questions. We were having lunch, we were having coffee together, and it was
just a wonderful, great experience. I remember it so well.