Ali Catterall
First, some back-story: Richard and Danny Elfman grew up in South Central LA. In 1972 the precocious brothers formed a musical cabaret troupe called The Mystic Knights Of The Oingo Boingo.Under Richard's leadership The 'Knights (think Spike Jones' City Slickers or Viv Stanshall's Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band) covered old jazz and swing tunes, Cab Calloway and Josephine Baker numbers, and classical arrangements alongside multi-instrumentalist Danny's original material, such as 'You've Got Your Baby Back' about kidnapped heiress Patty Hearst, all delivered in outrageous costumes and clown face. Danny sung 'St Louis Blues' every night and, years before Bono, donned devil horns to sing 'St James Infirmary'. The Residents and the B52s among other American New Wave bands, definitely owe them a debt.When Richard became more interested in film-making (though not to the point of doing anything so conventional as actually attending film school), he handed the group's reins to younger brother Danny, who began to steer the band toward a more rock-oriented (though still distinctly left-field) direction. In the late 1970s Richard decided to make a film that replicated the spirit of their live shows. The budget was raised by buying, renovating and selling houses. With money so tight, the film was shot in black and white, in a mixture of live action and animation.The resulting movie was Forbidden Zone. What a strange and near-incomprehensible thing it is. In a nutshell, the plot - belatedly built around a series of musical set pieces - goes like this: in the basement of a Venice Beach house belonging to the crazy Hercules family, including a supernaturally-strong Grampa and a middle-aged cub scout son, is a doorway that leads to the sixth dimension, accessed through an immense intestine. Among others, the sixth dimension is peopled by a butler frog, a gorilla, robot boxers, a human candelabra and a permanently topless princess.One day, Frenchy Hercules trips on a roller skate, stumbles through it, and meets little King Fausto, who is immediately smitten with her. Green (at least, grey) with envy, Queen Doris kidnaps the girl, while the rest of the Hercules clan, along with her friend, the 'chicken-boy' Squeezit Henderson, sets off to rescue her. Cast members, such as Gene Cunningham (aka Ugh-Fudge Bwana) were pooled from the band, their families and their associates.Boingo bassist and future writer-director Matthew Bright (aka 'Toshiro Boloney') was a childhood friend of Danny's and was roped in to play the twins Squeezit & René Henderson. Bright was considered ideal for the role of the put-upon twins, having endured gay taunts throughout his schooldays; Danny would always ask his older brother to protect him. Matthew in turn had been a roommate of tiny sensation Hervé Villechaize, the plane-spotting star of 'Fantasy Island', who'd play randy King Fausto. According to Bright, Hervé had a violent temper and liked firearms, once shooting himself in the arm by accident.Former Warhol ingénue Susan Tyrrell played his frustrated wife, Queen Doris. Tyrell was Hervé's real-life girlfriend. On first meeting him she says, "It's what I psychically knew all along - that I wanted to f*ck a midget. I used to say to him, "If you f*ck me, and I ever hear about it..." Gisele Lindley, an occasional performer with the 'Knights was cast as their wonky-breasted daughter. In a nod to his stage act, Danny cameoed as Satan singing Cab Calloway's 'Minnie The Moocher', and Richard's then-wife Marie-Pascale Elfman, another singer with the 'Knights, starred as Susan B 'Frenchy' Hercules and also designed the wonderful cardboard sets; in the years after splitting from Richard, she'd go on to become a respected painter. Her outrrrageous accent in the film, incidentally, was not put on. "I've talked to French people who said she had a weird accent," says her former husband.A real family film then, which suffers from the same affliction as most home movies; inclusive as hell, we often get the distinct impression these skits and antics are not necessarily for our benefit. With an 'otherness' worn so self-consciously it could quickly irritate the casual viewer, the feeling may be akin to showing up at a private party of street theatre performers where the guests have taken more drugs than you and whose collective DNA is already morphing into something unrecognisably human.Yet in truth, for all its 'out-there' cult credentials, Forbidden Zone doesn't have an original bone in its body. This doesn't make it any less of a diverting romp; simply one where you can box-tick the influences at the outset, including Tod Browning, the Three Stooges, the Marx Brothers, Monty Python, and (especially) animators Max Fleischer, Robert Crumb and Terry Gilliam. With its typically 1970s trash aesthetic (where Ed Wood and Betty Paige meet Warhol and Waters), the most obvious comparsions can be made with The Rocky Horror Picture Show, although there's not many numbers here you could easily sing along with, Tyrrell's self-penned 'I Was Born From A Witch's Egg' excepted.Ironically, these weaknesses are also its strengths: the movie is such an over-the-top melange, it just about pulls through on sheer exuberance and reckless charm. But the real hero of Forbidden Zone is Danny Elfman and his dazzling score. His debut film soundtrack is also one of his most magnificent, incorporating rock operas, pseudo-classical passages, 1920s novelty songs like 'The Yiddish Charleston', and old jazz numbers with dextrous ease.As Tim Burton's future collaborator (and Forbidden Zone's influence on Burton, particularly his debut, Pee Wee's Big Adventure, is clear) Elfman would go on to cement a position as one of Hollywood's major players, with Boingo guitarist Steve Bartek as his orchestrator. The Boingos themselves split in 1995, having shed more of their name along the way, and are best known for contributing to a number of 1980s movie soundtracks, such as Weird Science. But as a showcase for Danny's gifts, and the enduring spirit of the Oingo Boingo, there is no greater legacy than this.
Paul Green
Indescribably weird from the off, like a box full of strangeness being tipped upside down and all over the place. We've got a transvestite teacher, a butler with the head of a toad, sex-obsessed adults masquerading as kids, and the midget from 'The Man With The Golden Gun' and that doesn't even skim the surface. Forget about a plot - after about an hour of camp music, wacky dialogue and over-the-top actors so bizarre that it's possible they actually live on the set you will feel reasonably prepared for whatever else this crazy f**king film will spray you with. That, and let's not forget that it's really a black and white musical! Hold on tight. 75% - Monty Python, 10% - Carry On movie, 8% - Unquantifiable Weirdness, 7% - B.D.S.M fixation
rcipriot
What a disappointing piece of schlock this was! It was obviously a low budget wonder and it looked like it. The first giveaway was that it was shot in black and white but not for artistic reasons – it was just cheaper that way. The Elfmans should be ashamed of themselves. This was a big disappointment compared to later collaborations between Tim Burton and Danny Elfman (Beetlejuice, Edward Sissorhands, Nightmare Before Christmas, Corpse Bride) which were clever and inventive. This was amateurish and silly. There was no point to it other than to say "we can do something completely outlandish and it doesn't even have to make sense". Maybe we were supposed to consider it "Avant Guarde", but it was just a big waste of time for me. I was not surprised that Hervé Villechaize would do something like this just to get a starring role, but I was disappointed that Susan Tyrell, whom I consider an excellent actress, even agreed to do this. I kept watching it all the way through just to see how bad it really was, and I just kept thinking "I don't believe they did this!".
