After watching Maniac Saturday there was a Q and A with the director, William Lustig. The crowd at the Coolidge Corner Theater was comprised of film buffs that night. Bill was asked about extra helicopter footage, his commentary on the DVD, what it was like to work with Bruce Campbell, and other informed, sincere questions. I raised my hand and asked why there weren’t more animals in his film. Bill’s face turned stony and he barked, “No more questions!”
A few days later, the adrenaline of that exchange finally wearing off, I rented Maniac Cop from Odd Obsession in Chicago. I told the story to the guy working the rental desk. He was a film buff himself, and actually friendly with Bill. He advanced a theory that Bill thought I was a drunk heckler. And an alternate theory that Bill was hungry. The guy’s friend and coworker asked why I asked that question, and I said that even Maniac’s pets were mannequins. He keeps a baby doll in a cage and feeds it crackerjacks.
The Odd Obsession guys commented that of all the films to take place in New York City in the late seventies, Maniac is the least populated by humans or animals. There are almost as many mannequins as total actors, and just about everyone dies, except Bill in a cameo as a clerk at a seedy hotel in Times Square. Bill got in my head (last night I had a Maniac dream). I am sorry to have come across as (at best) sincere and uninformed in that question. I heard at the Chicago screening two large women asked Bill to sign their breasts, and his excuse was he had the wrong type of pen.
Oh, the wrong type of pen. And the wrong way through. but through nonetheless!
Gotta carry a dull Sharpie