Author: Jay Serafino

Very rarely does a movie completely nail its story on the first draft, and that’s especially true when you’re bringing a whole new world to the big screen. In 1974, George Lucas finished a rough draft for what would eventually become Star Wars, with multiple other drafts to follow, including one titled Adventures of the Starkiller, Episode I: The Star Wars.

Though fans like to think of Star Wars as a sprawling saga that was meticulously thought out from day one, it turns out Lucas made numerous changes to his core story, not only before the 1977 release of A New Hope, but all the way through the final film. Here are eight notable changes from those early drafts.

1. HAN SOLO HAD GILLS // STAR WARS: A NEW HOPE

Han Solo, everybody’s favorite suave smuggler, originally wasn’t going to be played by a young, handsome Harrison Ford. In fact, he wasn’t going to be very human at all. In an early script for Star Wars, Solo was described as a tall, reptilian creature with green skin, no nose, and a hefty set of gills. As the drafts evolved, Star Wars slowly transformed from niche sci-fi/fantasy to a more relatable brand of space western; inevitably Han Solo turned into the space cowboy everyone knows today.

2. THE STORY OF MACE WINDU // A NEW HOPE

Despite what you’ve been led to believe, the Star Wars saga didn’t just appear to Lucas in a fever dream one strange night—in fact, the first couple drafts of A New Hope are basically unrecognizable from what we know today. One of the biggest omissions in those first few attempts is Luke Skywalker himself. Instead, the movie originally involved a character named Mace Windu, with the script beginning with the impenetrable intro “The Story of Mace Windu: a revered Jedi-Bendu of Ophuchi who was related to Usby CJ Thape, Padawaan learner to the famed Jedi …”

The problem was that no one understood a word of it, and rightfully so. As the drafts evolved, Mace Windu was replaced by Kane Starkiller, who was eventually turned into the far more relatable Luke Skywalker. The character of Mace Windu did live on in the prequel trilogy, though all that “Jedi-Bendu of Ophuchi” nonsense was left on the cutting room floor.

3. FAMILIAR NAMES, NEW FACES // A NEW HOPE

Luke filled the typical Joseph Campbell hero mold in the first Star Wars trilogy, but the character was originally much different from the farm boy who left home to take on the Empire. In those early drafts, Luke Skywalker was a battle-worn war hero and one of the last surviving Jedi (called the Jedi-Bendu at first).

Vader was there, too, but without the trademark mask, cape, and intergalactic asthma—he was even known as General Vader at one point. In the beginning, he was conceived as an evil henchman for Prince Valorum, a masked Sith Knight tasked with hunting down the remaining Jedi-Bendu. Eventually Vader became an amalgamation of several characters throughout different drafts, with his signature mask coming from artist Ralph McQuarrie, who thought it necessary since Vader would literally be traveling from ship to ship in the vacuum of space.

Delightful. #McQuarrieMonday #StarWars #SWNN https://t.co/q68Lr7kz8M pic.twitter.com/wqWE7rbZoH

— SWNN (@StarWarsNewsNet) September 19, 2016

4. NELLITH SKYWALKER// THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK

The Skywalker family tree has more branches than a Colorado spruce, but the original draft for 1980’s The Empire Strikes Back would have rattled the clan’s genealogy even further. Written by Leigh Brackett, the first go-around at the movie’s story did introduce the idea of Luke having a sister, but it wasn’t Leia. Instead, the Princess remained a born-and-bred Organa, while Luke’s twin was revealed to be a woman named Nellith.

At the same time Luke was training under Yoda, Nellith would also be learning the ways of the Force on the road to becoming a Jedi Knight. How this all was going to pan out is unknown, as it was supposed to be resolved in a third movie. But when this draft was rejected, so too was the story of Nellith.

5. ENDOR: HOME OF THE WOOKIEES // RETURN OF THE JEDI

It wasn’t until 2005’s Revenge of the Sith that fans finally got a glimpse of a full-fledged Wookiee army going into battle, but the original idea for 1983’s Return of the Jedi had it happening nearly 20 years earlier. Instead of a battalion of teddy bears taking on the Empire for the final installment in the trilogy, Lucas wanted Endor to be the home of the Wookiees, culminating in a climactic battle between the two factions.

However, Lucas eventually felt that the Wookiees would be too technologically advanced for his vision of the story. He wanted to showcase a primitive species besting the evil Empire (a veiled metaphor for Vietnam), and apparently the Wookiees were a bit too tech-savvy for that to work. 

6. THE (ORIGINAL) DEATH OF HAN SOLO // RETURN OF THE JEDI

At this point, pretty much everyone knows that 2015’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens doesn’t go according to plan for Han Solo. But before he was gutted by Kylo Ren, Harrison Ford and screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan wanted Solo to sacrifice his life for the Rebel squad early in Return of the Jedi. Ford hoped that this would add some depth and gravitas to a movie that featured an elephant playing the keyboard. Plus, the actor has gone on the record to claim that Solo was never that interesting to him.

However, Ford said, “George didn’t think there was any future in dead Han toys,” so Solo was left amongst the living (for the time being). 

7. HAD ABBADON, ABANDONED // RETURN OF THE JEDI

The first two installments in the Star Wars trilogy showed the Empire’s mammoth space stations and star cruisers littered throughout the galaxy, but Return of the Jedi was going to one-up that visual with an up-close look at the Empire’s homeworld of Had Abbadon. This proposed city-planet was going to be the location of much of the film’s action, including a lightsaber battle between Luke and Vader in the Emperor’s fiery throne room.

So what happened? Logistically, putting a city-planet on film just wasn’t feasible in the ’80s. The massive sets, models, and matte paintings would be too cost-prohibitive, and even with a small fortune at his disposal, the technological advancements simply weren’t in place to get the idea off the ground. The idea was revised in the Prequel Trilogy, though, with the introduction of the global metropolis of Coruscant.

8. TWIN DEATH STARS // RETURN OF THE JEDI

#McQuarrieMonday – A concept depicting a network of multiple Death Stars. pic.twitter.com/naEUSZOEn9

— Star Wars (@starwars) December 22, 2014

As interesting as the planet surface of Had Abbadon sounds, what’s even more intriguing is what was set to orbit the Imperial capital: two massive Death Stars. Instead of the lone moon-sized space station from the final film, there were going to be twin destructive globes under construction around the planet.

Concept artist Ralph McQuarrie even produced some paintings of what the Death Stars were going to look like. While they never actually saw the light of day, elements of them seem to have inspired the look of the Starkiller Base from The Force Awakens.

Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 has long been hailed as one of the most divisive and important books of the 20th century. Its dystopian setting and social commentary regarding government censorship spoke to a world dealing with the ramifications of Nazi Germany, the rule of Joseph Stalin, and the overreach of McCarthyism. Not only was the book controversial when it was released in 1953, apparently it’s still causing a stir.

When The Daily Show writer Daniel Radosh’s son Milo came home with a permission slip to be able to read Fahrenheit 451 in his school’s book club, the comedy veteran knew the irony was a bit too good to pass up. Not only did he sign the slip, he also wrote a letter with his thoughts on the matter to school officials. Here is just part of his response:

“I love this letter! What a wonderful way to introduce students to the theme of Fahrenheit 451 that books are so dangerous that the institutions of society—schools and parents—might be willing to team up against children to prevent them from reading one. It’s easy enough to read the book and say, ‘This is crazy. It could never really happen,’ but pretending to present students at the start with what seems like a totally reasonable ‘first step’ is a really immersive way to teach them how insidious censorship can be. I’m sure that when the book club is over and the students realize the true intent of this letter they’ll be shocked at how many of them accepted it as an actual permission slip. In addition, Milo’s concern that allowing me to add this note will make him stand out as a troublemaker really brings home why most of the characters find it easier to accept the world they live in rather than challenge it. I assured him that his teacher would have his back.”

tfw your kid’s school makes you sign a permission slip so he can read Fahrenheit 451 ? ? pic.twitter.com/t9lmD8vKTu

— Daniel Radosh (@danielradosh) October 24, 2016

Obviously this response is just dripping with sarcasm, but what else would you expect from someone working on The Daily Show? Apparently the book’s (mildly) profane language and Bible burnings caused the school to implement the permission slip, but it does make you wonder if they see the irony here. Maybe Milo can tell them all about it after he reads the book.

[h/t The Daily Dot]

Deadpool was an undisputed hit with critics and audiences when it premiered in February, earning more than $750 million worldwide and becoming the highest-grossing R-rated movie of all time. Now, with awards season upon us, star Ryan Reynolds is looking for even more accolades for his foul-mouthed comic book adaptation.

Along with a screener copy of the movie from 20th Century Fox, Reynolds sent a hilarious letter to critics groups, Writers Guild members, and Academy voters to remind them to think about the Merc With a Mouth’s big screen triumph when making their award choices this year. For Your Consideration letters usually harp on a movie’s emotional impact or filmmaking prowess, but Reynolds filled his note with sarcastic claims like, “Despite countless roadblocks, the incredible team of Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick, Tim Miller, and I continued onward until somebody at Fox accidentally said ‘Yes’ thinking we were a Maze Runner spinoff.”

This letter taps right into the crass tone that made Deadpool a success in the first place, even including a line about how the movie’s low budget would “barely cover the cocaine costs on most studio films.” Though the movie was an unlikely success, any real award consideration would be even more surprising. But that’s not stopping Fox from pushing for Reynolds to get some Best Actor consideration. You can read the entire letter over at IndieWire.

Even if Reynolds’s award plea falls on deaf ears, fans shouldn’t be too disappointed: Deadpool will be back in a sequel tentatively set for 2018.

The holiday season seems to start earlier and earlier each year, and it’s never too soon to start thinking about the perfect sweater to help you join in the festive spirit. This year, you can embrace your inner hero (or villain) with a line of DC Comics Christmas sweaters, featuring Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Joker, or Two Face designs. Featuring both pullover and cardigan styles, these brightly colored sweaters range from Christmas-centric designs to something you could slip into your everyday wardrobe.

The Classic Batman sweater features the Gotham City skyline standing tall on the sleeves, while the Superman one touts a zig-zaggy snowflake design on the sleeve “for just the right amount of ‘ugly.'” While the Superman and all four Batman sweaters are perfect for an ironic Christmas party, the Wonder Woman sweaters are probably the most universal, since they lack any obvious holiday theme. Though they may be advertised as “ugly sweaters,” they’re a notch above the normal holiday eyesores.

The most attractive sweaters for longtime fans might belong to the villains, though. To add a bit more comic authenticity to these two sweaters, Two Face’s design is a direct homage to the cover of Batman Annual #14, by artist Neal Adams, while the Joker looks to be taken straight from Batman: The Animated Series.

All of the sweaters sell for less than $50 and are exclusive to fun.com.

[h/t Nerdist]

Long before your video game woes could be solved through a quick Google search or YouTube clip, gamers had to use another method to find out how to beat killer bosses and solve maddening puzzles: the Nintendo Power Line. In the ’80s and ’90s, a simple phone call would put you in touch with a staff of Nintendo Game Play Counselors who were ready to help you conquer evil and keep you from hurling your controller through the TV.

Now, according to Digital Trends, the company is bringing back its forgotten call center for the November 11 launch of the NES Classic Edition, a miniaturized version of the classic console filled with 30 pre-installed games that plugs into your TV. The new Power Line will be operational from the November 11 launch through the night of November 13, from 6:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. PST.

However, you won’t actually get to talk to any authentic game counselors; instead, all of the tips and tricks for your desired game will come in the form of an automated message. Don’t be too bummed out about the impersonal touch, because you’ll also get to listen to behind-the-scenes stories from some of the original Nintendo Game Play Counselors.

We’re going retro to celebrate the launch of #NESClassicEdition. Join us for a #NESterday social media bash starting on 11/10! pic.twitter.com/4G8J5D9r1j

— Nintendo of America (@NintendoAmerica) November 4, 2016

If you want to find out how to get the Warp Whistles in Super Mario Bros. 3, need help navigating your way through Metroid, or just want a serving of nostalgia, you can call the Power Line at (425) 885-7529.

[h/t Digital Trends]

 
Presidential campaigns today seem like non-stop odysseys of speeches, interviews, and most importantly travel. But in 1896, presidential candidate William McKinley and his campaign manager, Mark Hanna, formulated a unique strategy that allowed McKinley to run for office without having to ever leave home. Using the media and his own supporters to his advantage, McKinley managed to undertake an aggressive presidential campaign while remaining close to home to care for his ill wife, Ida.

William McKinley and Ida Saxton married in 1871, after the two met at a local picnic. Their family life quickly met with tragedy, though, after Ida’s mother died in 1873, followed by the deaths of the couple’s two daughters: one, a little girl also named Ida, died during infancy, just months after Ida’s own mother died; the other, Katie, died of typhoid fever in 1875. While grieving her losses, Ida developed a series of debilitating health issues, including phlebitis (vein inflammation) and epilepsy, which forced her to frequently use a cane and spend much of her time bedridden.

McKinley, who was elected to the U.S. congress in 1876 and became governor of Ohio in 1891, still appeared at political functions with his wife, even as stories about her declining health were reported. At social events, she would often be seen holding a bouquet of flowers to mask her tremors, and when an epileptic fit attacked her in public, William held a handkerchief over her face until it subsided.

Though Ida spent most of her time indoors due to her condition, William found little ways to show his love for her throughout the day. While he was governor, he would wave to her from a specific spot on the street outside their house as he left for work in the morning. And every day at 3 p.m., he would open his office window, which was visible from where he and Ida lived, and again wave at her as she kept busy inside. They would often end their nights by reading the Bible or playing cribbage together. When McKinley decided to run for president in 1896, he knew Ida’s health would play a big role in how the campaign was conducted.

 
Wanting to campaign, but refusing to leave his wife during what promised to be a lengthy process, McKinley and Hanna came up with a “front porch campaign” that would allow him to run for president from his Canton, Ohio home. The idea was derived from a similar strategy used by James Garfield in 1880.

Before Garfield’s day, it was seen as beneath a candidate to “actively” seek the presidency by traveling and talking about themselves; instead, they would have surrogates campaign and boast on their behalf. But Garfield’s candidacy was different; as a Civil War hero, people flocked to his Mentor, Ohio home to wish him luck on his campaign. Garfield began speaking to the crowds of well-wishers and reporters, creating unique campaign opportunities in the process. After Garfield’s success, Benjamin Harrison used the technique for his 1888 campaign, followed by McKinley, who would soon expand the scope of the front porch.

Instead of traveling by rail and giving speeches in a different city every day, McKinley had the voters come to him. Delegates and special interest groups would arrive in Canton—often accompanied by lively parades—where they would read prepared remarks to McKinley (which he previewed and edited beforehand) before pledging their vote to the Ohio native. McKinley, one of the savviest presidents when it came to press relations, always had newspapermen on hand to report on his growing support. Hanna reimagined the Canton home as less of a permanent campaign stop, and more of a political pilgrimage for those in the Republican party. (Notably, the home was portrayed in the press as having belonged to the McKinleys for decades; in fact, although the couple had moved in shortly after their marriage, they had moved out after their daughter Ida’s death in 1873. Over two decades later, they rented the house during the election, partly to create an image of continuity.)

From August through November 1896, approximately 750,000 people shuffled through McKinley’s rental. He gave speeches outside at all hours of the day, except for Sunday. Scores of trains arrived, full of people ready to not only meet the future president, but pledge their support and spread the word once they returned home. These delegates included members of Republican clubs, Grand Army of the Republic veterans (a military fraternity), women-led groups, and the occasional oddity, like the Six Footers Club of Pittsburgh, which was made up of people who measured 6-foot or taller.

 
Ida, for her part, would occasionally serve lemonade to reporters and supporters when her condition allowed it. Other times, when she was either too sick to entertain, or the onlookers became too curious about her condition, she would travel to one of the family’s farms to recuperate and remove herself from wandering eyes. Mostly, Mrs. McKinley kept to relatively simple tasks during the campaign. That didn’t stop rumors about her health or country loyalty from spreading—at times she was called everything from a lunatic to an English spy. To stave off some of the questions regarding his wife’s mental and physical well-being, the McKinley campaign had a biography of Ida written—the first ever for the wife of a presidential candidate—and mailed it to voters, highlighting her patriotism and the reputation of her family.

McKinley’s front-porch brain trust, meanwhile, was running against a man whose campaign was the exact opposite: Democrat William Jennings Bryan. A prodigious campaigner, Bryan traveled an estimated 18,000 miles during the election of 1896, giving countless lengthy speeches along the way.

But it turns out that a walk onto the porch was all McKinley needed. He went on to defeat Bryan in both the election of 1896 and again in 1900. His devotion to his wife, and refusal to stray far from her sight, was seen as a political asset instead of a liability. In the 1900 election, McKinley altered his strategy and left most of the physical campaigning to his running mate, Theodore Roosevelt, who campaigned across 24 states for a total of 21,000 miles, outpacing Bryan in the process.

And once her husband was elected, Ida McKinley made history as a First Lady. In addition to being the first incumbent to ever be captured on film and to visit a foreign country, she advocated for the right of women to receive a proper education. She was also the first incumbent First Lady to publicly endorse women’s suffrage.

When McKinley was assassinated by anarchist Leon Czolgosz in 1901, Ida proved stronger than many anticipated. She nursed McKinley at his bedside during the eight days he survived after the attack, and she accompanied his coffin from Buffalo (where the assassination had taken place) to Washington, D.C. Ida would survive nearly six more years, and upon her death was interred along with McKinley and their daughters in the McKinley Memorial in Canton—the city of the “front porch campaign” all those years ago.

You might think that the superhero boom is a fairly recent trend in Hollywood, but the truth is that a similar spandex-clad revolution happened in movies and on TV back in the 1970s. This was a time when the Hulk, Spider-Man, Wonder Woman, and Captain Marvel were all gracing television sets nationwide, while Superman was taking flight on the big screen. But in 1978, those heroes almost had a bit more company when CBS took a gamble on a pilot movie for a potential Dr. Strange television series.

Doctor Strange (spelled Dr. for TV) first appeared in the appropriately titled Marvel comic Strange Tales #110 in 1963, the product of creators Stan Lee and artist Steve Ditko, who had worked together the previous year to bring Spider-Man to life. Since the beginning, Strange was portrayed as a brilliant but cocky surgeon, who, after suffering career-ending injuries to his hands in a car accident, became the student of the Ancient One, who taught him in the ways of the mystical arts. All very routine comic book stuff, really.

So how did an offbeat character like Strange end up on CBS? The network already had success with The Incredible Hulk and (to a lesser degree) The Amazing Spider-Man TV projects in the late 1970s, and executives were looking to expand on their comic book portfolio. Enter: Dr. Strange, a TV movie starring Peter Hooten as the titular Master of the Mystic Arts (who was a psychiatrist, not a surgeon in the movie), and Jessica Walter, of Arrested Development and Archer fame, as his nemesis, Morgan le Fay, a comic take on the Arthurian legend.

Though Walter had some notoriety after being nominated for a Golden Globe and winning a Primetime Emmy years earlier, Hooten certainly wasn’t a household name. For that matter, neither was Dr. Strange himself; this was the first time the character would ever appear outside of a comic book. From the beginning the project was swimming upstream: No marquee star, an unknown comic book character, and special effects that didn’t quite match the original comic all worked against the movie. Instead of replicating the trippy, panel-breaking illustrations of Ditko and dimension-spanning scripts of Lee, fans were treated to something far more low-tech:

The basic plot of the movie sees Morgan le Fay charged with killing both the original Sorcerer Supreme, played by John Mills, and Stephen Strange, who is set to take his place. It was written and directed by Philip DeGuere Jr., and Lee was even brought on as a creative consultant. Though Lee held ceremonial positions on The Incredible Hulk and The Amazing Spider-Man, he had the most input on Dr. Strange.

Despite Lee’s involvement and the success of other Marvel series on the network, Dr. Strange simply didn’t pull in viewers. Couple that with a budget that was higher than what CBS was accustomed to and Dr. Strange never really stood a chance. It failed to be picked up as a series, and within just a few years, both Hulk and Spider-Man were off CBS as well, marking the end of a premature superhero fad that was probably a bit too ambitious for the state of television at the time.

The film has gained a dubious reputation from fans in recent years, but Hooten still sees it as something to be proud of:

“I thought it was pretty good. I was pleased. I thought it all worked. I think everyone was surprised by the low ratings. The network also had reservations about the show because it cost a lot to produce and they had other options [for less-costly shows to make]. It’s part of the disappointment of acting—you realize that it’s not in your hands.”

Nearly 40 years later, Doctor Strange is making a comeback, with Benedict Cumberbatch donning his cape on November 4. Though the new version doesn’t exactly have to hit a home run in order to one-up its 1978 predecessor, the history of Doctor Strange can’t be told without revisiting CBS’s ill-fated attempt to bring some magic to the superhero landscape.

In the 1950s and 1960s, horror movies were making studios huge profits on shoestring budgets. But after the market hit horror overload, directors and studios had to be extra creative to get people to flock to theaters. That’s when a flood of different gimmicks were introduced at movie theaters across the country to make a film stand out from the crowd. From hypnotists to life insurance policies and free vomit bags, here’s a brief history of some of the most memorable horror movie gimmicks.

1. PSYCHO-RAMA // MY WORLD DIES SCREAMING (1958)

In order to truly become a classic, a horror movie can’t just work on the surface; it has to get deep inside of your head. That’s what Psycho-Rama tried to achieve when it was first conceived for My World Dies Screaming, later renamed Terror in the Haunted House. Psycho-Rama introduced audiences to subliminal imagery in order to let the scares sink in more than any traditional film could.

Skulls, snakes, ghoulish faces, and the word “Death” would all appear onscreen for a fraction of a second—not long enough for an audience member to consciously notice it, but it was enough to get them uneasy. Obviously Psycho-Rama didn’t really catch on with the public or the film industry, but horror directors, like William Friedkin in The Exorcist, have since gone on to use this quick imagery technique to enhance their own movies.

2. FRIGHT INSURANCE // MACABRE (1958)

Director William Castle didn’t make a name for himself in the film industry by directing cinematic classics; instead, he relied on shock and shlock to help fill movie theater seats. His movies were full of what audiences craved at the time: horror, gore, terror, suspense, and a heaping helping of camp. But his true genius came from marketing—and the gimmicks he brought to every movie, which have since become legendary amongst horrorphiles.

His most famous stunt was the life insurance policy he purchased for every member of an audience that paid to see Macabre. This was a real policy backed by Lloyd’s of London, so if you died of fright in your seat, your family would receive $1000. Now who wouldn’t want to roll the dice on that type of deal? Of course, the policy didn’t cover anyone with a preexisting medical condition or an audience member who committed suicide during the screening. Lloyd’s had to draw the line somewhere, right?

3. HYPNO-VISTA // HORRORS OF THE BLACK MUSEUM (1959)

How do you make your routine horror movie stand out from the crowd? Hypnotize your audience, of course. Thus Hypno-Vista was born. For this gimmick, James Nicholson, president of American International Pictures, suggested that a lecture by a hypnotist, Dr. Emile Franchel, should precede Horrors of the Black Museum, which had a plot focusing on a hypnotizing killer.

For 13 minutes, Dr. Franchel talked to the audience about the science behind hypnotism, before attempting to hypnotize them himself in order to feel more immersed in the story. Nowadays it comes off as overlong and dry, but it was a gimmick that got people into theaters back in 1959. Plus, writer Herman Cohen said that eventually the lecture had to be removed whenever the movie re-aired on TV because it did, in fact, hypnotize some people.

4. NO LATE ADMISSION // PSYCHO (1960)

Though this isn’t the most gimmickiest of gimmicks, Alfred Hitchcock’s insistence that no audience member be admitted into Psycho once the movie started got a lot of publicity at the time. The Master of Suspense’s reasoning is less about drumming up publicity and more about audience satisfaction, though. Because Janet Leigh gets killed so early into the movie, he didn’t want people to miss her part and feel misled by the movie’s marketing.

This publicity tactic wasn’t completely novel, though, as the groundbreaking French horror movie Les Diaboliques (1955) had a similar policy in place. This was at a time when people would simply stroll into movie screenings whenever they wanted, so to see a director—especially one so masterful at the art of publicity—that was adamant about showing up on time was a great way to pique some interest.

5. FRIGHT BREAK // HOMICIDAL (1961)

Another classic William Castle gimmick was the “fright break” he offered to audience members during his 1961 movie, Homicidal. Here, a timer would appear on the screen just as the film was hurtling toward its gruesome climax. Frightened audience members had 45 seconds to leave the theater and still get a full refund on their ticket. There was a catch, though.

Frightened audience members who decided to take the easy way out were shamed into the “coward’s corner,” which was a yellow cardboard booth supervised by some poor sap theater employee. Then, they were forced to sign a paper reading “I’m a bona-fide coward,” before getting their money back. Obviously, at the risk of such humiliation, most people decided to just grit their teeth and experience the horror on the screen instead.

6. THE PUNISHMENT POLL // MR. SARDONICUS (1961)

The most interactive of William Castle’s schlocky horror gimmicks put the fate of the film itself into the hands of the audience. Dubbed the “punishment poll,” Castle devised a way to let viewers vote on the fate of the characters in the movie Mr. Sardonicus. Upon entering the theater, people were given a card with a picture of a thumb on it that would glow when a special light was placed on it. “Thumbs up” meant that Mr. Sardonicus would be given mercy, and “thumbs down” meant … well, you get the idea.

Apparently audiences never gave ol’ Sardonicus the thumbs up, despite Castle’s claims that the happier ending was filmed and ready to go. However, no alternative ending has ever surfaced, leaving many to doubt his claims. Chances are, there was only one way out for Mr. Sardonicus.

7. FREE VOMIT BAGS // MARK OF THE DEVIL (1970)

Horror fans are mostly masochists at heart. They don’t want to be entertained—they want to be terrified. So when the folks behind 1970’s Mark of the Devil gave out free vomit bags to the audience due to the film’s grotesque nature, how could any self-respecting horror fan not be intrigued? It wasn’t just the bags that the studio was advertising; it also claimed the film was rated V, for violence—and maybe some vomit?

8. DUO-VISION // WICKED, WICKED (1973)

Duo-Vision was hyped as the new storytelling technique in cinema—offering two times the terror for the price of one ticket. Of course Duo-Vision is just fancy marketing lingo for split-screen, meaning audiences see a film from two completely different perspectives side-by-side. In the 1973 horror film Wicked, Wicked, that meant watching the movie from the points of view of both the killer and his victims.

Seems like a perfect concept for the horror genre, right? Well, Duo-Vision wasn’t just employed during the movie’s most horrific moments; it was used for the movie’s entire 95-minute runtime. The technique had been used sparingly in other films—most notably in Brian De Palma’s much better film Sisters (1973)—but it had never been implemented to this extent. A little bit of Duo-Vision apparently goes a long way, because it fell out of favor soon after.

In the early 1990s, the internet was still a mystery to most people, with many viewing it as nothing more than a passing fad. These were the days when Bryant Gumbel and Katie Couric used to hold court over the meaning of the “@” sign on live television—so how was a company like AOL supposed to convince people to connect to the vast, scary world wide web when most of America didn’t even own a computer? They gave it away for free, of course.

In order to propel the world into the digital future, AOL first had to take a step back into the past. Eschewing the expensive TV commercials and marketing campaigns other web providers like Prodigy were running, AOL spread the word about its internet service through people’s mailboxes. The idea was the brainchild of Jan Brandt, the company’s chief marketing officer. She was brought to AOL to increase the company’s subscriber base, and her idea in 1993 was simple: Use the antiquated strategy of direct mail campaigns to get free trial discs—originally floppy and later CDs—straight into the hands of consumers. This would, in theory, lead to a paying customer once that trial expired.

In those days, people didn’t really know what the internet was, so it was proving difficult to explain it succinctly through a commercial, billboard, or print ad. It was much more effective to let customers try it firsthand during a free 500-, 750-, or 1000-hour trial. Brandt talked about why the physical package was so important to the campaign in an interview on the Internet History Podcast:

“It was my absolute belief that you could not send someone a package in the mail—and I don’t mean an envelope, I mean a package that you could feel—and not open it. I felt that it was constitutionally impossible for someone to get a small box in the mail and not be inspired to open it.”

The first campaign in its initial, smaller market cost $250,000 to get off the ground in the spring and summer of 1993. While most direct mail campaigns are lucky to get a two or three percent response rate, Brandt’s idea yielded 10 percent. People weren’t just using the trials, they were signing up for AOL’s services and becoming paid subscribers in droves. As the campaign expanded into new markets, the discs moved beyond just mailboxes.

It all started when AOL teamed up with Blockbuster to give their discs away to customers; soon after, the dam had burst, as people were suddenly besieged with discs everywhere they turned. They were at Best Buys and Barnes & Nobles, tucked inside magazines, in people’s morning cereal box, on their fast food trays—pretty much anywhere eyes would be, a disc wouldn’t be far behind. One of the stranger stories from AOL’s “carpet bombing” strategy came when the company found out that freezing and thawing these discs wouldn’t cause them any damage. Why? So they could be packaged with Omaha Steaks, of course.

Though some of the locations these discs wound up in can cause a chuckle, the raw numbers behind the campaign are almost hard to fathom. It has been estimated that, at one point, 50 percent of all CDs produced had the AOL logo on them. And remember, this was at a time when people were still actually buying CDs. It wasn’t abnormal for a person to receive multiple free discs per week simply by being amongst the living. Though most of these ended up being discarded, turned into frisbees, or used as coasters, the numbers game was still in favor of AOL.

Despite hundreds of millions of dollars—maybe even billions, according to Brandt—spent on CDs (at about $1.50 a pop), and countless discs winding up underneath sweaty beverages nationwide, AOL was growing, its subscriber base was booming, and the company was becoming synonymous with the internet itself. According to some estimates, AOL spent about $35 on every new customer with these discs, and they eventually got to a point where they were registering a new user every six seconds, turning AOL into a $150 billion company in a matter of years.

“When we went public in 1992, we had less than 200,000 subscribers,” former AOL CEO Steve Case said. “A decade later the number was in the 25 million range.”

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It turns out, the death of the AOL trial discs was caused by the internet itself. As the company changed its strategy and stopped charging by the hour and introduced broadband services, the discs had less of an impact as churn rates rose. Other providers were coming along with better, faster alternatives, and AOL soon started falling behind its competitors. By 2006, the disc campaign was being phased out, as customers’ online habits changed—though there are still an estimated 2.1 million users clinging on to AOL’s near-extinct dial-up technology.

Interestingly enough, in recent years, these discs—which were once just about everywhere—have become something of a collectible, with some zealots hoarding thousands of them for some sort of higher purpose. Museums have even put them on display, recognizing the importance the early floppy disks and CDs played in people taking their first steps into a more connected world. 

In the years since the end of the campaign, these AOL trial discs have joined the ranks of JNCO jeans, boy bands, and Beanie Babies as strange relics of the what-were-we-thinking ’90s. Though they’re worthless now, they played a big role in the internet boom of the last 25 years.

The key to any successful horror movie is the fear of the unknown. Whether it’s a monster, murderer, or any other threat, the mystery is what really sells the terror. The most tried and true way to make a memorable horror villain is to simply cover his or her face with a mask. From meticulous artistry to pure dumb luck, the history of horror movie masks is as fascinating as the films themselves. Here are the stories behind eight memorable horror movie masks.

1. PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (1925)

The expressionless mask star Lon Chaney dons for the first half of the 1925 version of Phantom of the Opera is creepy in its own right, but when it’s eventually removed by Mary Philbin’s character, a whole new brand of terror is unleashed. The unmasking scene was so traumatizing for viewers at the time that there were reports of people actually fainting during the film’s premiere.

2. EYES WITHOUT A FACE (1960)

In 1960’s Eyes Without a Face, Edith Scob’s character, Christiane, is forced into a skin-tight, expressionless mask after she is horribly disfigured in a car accident. To get the effect just right, Scob had to show up to set three hours early just to get the mask put on, then she would have to wear it until the shooting day was over. She also had to eat her meals through a straw and couldn’t speak because of the stiff facade, leaving her feeling isolated from the rest of the crew. But despite the misery of the makeup chair, Scob credits the restrictive mask with actually helping her performance. 

“I was completely alone,” Scob recounted. “And that served me enormously well for playing the role.” The makeup process Scob had to endure naturally lent itself to the character of Christiane, who is a virtual pariah due to her disfigurement. Getting the mask on might sound like torture, but Scob’s performance helped Eyes Without a Face become a milestone in the horror genre.

3. THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE (1974)

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, like so many horror movies over the years, takes its inspiration from one of the country’s most bizarre killers: Ed Gein. But Gein was just a small piece of the movie’s foundation; Leatherface’s trademark mask of human flesh came entirely from the mind of director Tobe Hooper. This latex monstrosity was modeled to look like it was crafted from his past victims, but there’s more to Leatherface’s persona than a literal face mask.

During the movie, he wears three separate masks—known as the “Pretty Woman,” “Old Lady,” and “Killer” masks. The idea is that Leatherface had no personality of his own beneath these masks; instead, the late actor behind the chainsaw, Gunnar Hansen, said, “He changes faces depending on what he’s trying to do.” The heavy latex wasn’t kind to Hansen, who once knocked himself out cold when he walked into a door frame on set.

4. HALLOWEEN (1978)

Creating a slasher movie icon on a shoestring budget isn’t an enviable position to be in, but when director John Carpenter saw the emotionless gaze of a William Shatner mask (well, a Captain Kirk mask, technically) staring back at him, he knew he had his (unconventional) solution. It was the movie’s art director who stumbled upon the mask when he went to Bert Wheeler’s magic shop in Hollywood in search of something for Michael Myers to wear on the cheap—he also picked up a clown mask as the other option.

The important thing to note about Myers’s appearance is that it never looks like Kirk is going around, stalking Jamie Lee Curtis. In fact, the mask kind of looks like … no one. It’s just an expressionless facade that Carpenter painted white and widened the eye holes on for a more unique appearance.

5. FRIDAY THE 13TH (1980)

Jason Voorhees’s signature hockey mask is the most recognizable horror prop of the entire Friday the 13th franchise, and one of the most enduring images of the horror genre. However, it didn’t even enter the series until the third installment. There have been plenty of stories told about the origins of the hockey mask, but the most consistent one paints 3D supervisor Martin Sadoff as the impetus behind the goalie visage.

During a makeup test for the movie’s 3D cameras, the crew wondered what Jason should actually look like in the new installment. Not wanting to spend hours applying makeup to actor Richard Brooker, Sadoff, a devout hockey fan, offhandedly suggested a goalie mask (either a Buffalo Sabers or Detroit Red Wings mask), which he just so happened to have on him at the time. Sometimes, crafting a legendary movie villain is just as easy as some hockey equipment in a duffel bag. 

6. THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991)

There must be something about hockey that naturally lends itself to homicidal lunatics, because the famous face muzzle from Silence of the Lambs also has its roots in the sport. When the film needed a fierce looking mask for a captive Hannibal Lecter, the production was given the name of Ed Cubberly, the man behind many of the goalie masks you see in the NHL.

When asked to come up with a piece for “a schizophrenic who goes around biting people,” his solution was simple: Use the lower half of an old-time hockey goalie mask with bars inserted over the mouth hole to give Dr. Lecter that unnerving, muzzled snarl. It was even his idea to leave the fiberglass in its original brown/green color to really cement that prison feel. With simplicity comes terror, and Cubberly gifted the world one of the great images of horror with nothing but a little improvisation.

7. SCREAM (1996)

In the horror genre, it seems like luck plays as big a role in a movie’s success as anything else. This is doubly true for the creation of the ghost-faced villain in Wes Craven’s Scream. The script itself didn’t give much in the way of details for the movie’s slasher other than saying he was a “ghost mask killer.” One day, while scouting an abandoned house to film in, producer Marianne Maddalena happened upon a perfectly shaped ghost mask and knew she hit on something. 

Craven loved it; unfortunately, the likeness was owned by a costume company called Fun World. But when a script calls for a “ghost mask” and you find a perfect one by complete luck, you have to find a way to get it done. It took some hard bargaining by both Fun World and Dimension Films (including the creation of a rival mask by the studio), but in the end both sides came to an agreement: Craven got his ideal mask, Fun World became the manufacturer of a horror icon, and Scream went on to gross more than $170 million.

8. YOU’RE NEXT (2011)

In 2011’s You’re Next, a group of masked assailants terrorizes a family celebrating their reunion. It might seem like a pretty straightforward horror romp until you get a real good look at those masks, each modeled after a different animal: a fox, a lamb, and a tiger. They’re terrifying in their own right, but they’re also believable. This was something director Adam Wingard stressed, as he wanted to make sure the killers never look like they were “fashion majors in the daytime.”

The result was a real-world, gritty group of killers, donning masks that were horrifying in their practicality. The masks also gave further insight into each killer’s personality, with Wingard saying, “they do all have unique personalities and they are dressed suitably to bring that out and accentuate that.”