Sometime in the mid-1960s, Forest J. Ackerman, the editor of Famous Monsters of Filmland, indirectly introduced two of his readers, both aspiring horror filmmakers, to one another. David Allen ran an ad in FM asking to hear from anyone out there interested in stop motion animation. Dennis Muren, living not far away from the home base of FM in the San Gabriel Valley, responded. The two boys visited, became friends, and later collaborated on a low budget film, working under the lowest of low budgets, a mere $6000 dollars, back when $6000 dollars was a lot of money.

They were joined in their enterprise by two others, Mark McGee who lived in Arcadia and had written a screenplay, and Jim Danforth, a specialist in matte screens. All of them were horror and special effects fans, spun in the FM orbit, and loosely met to watch and critique horror films, and to write articles for and distribute ‘zines about their interests.

The boys went about things in an almost traditional manner. They held a casting call, which attracted 50 auditioners, shot the film a la the New Wave, on a 16mm Bolex without direct sound, built sets, created special effects, and even had a “premiere” sometime around 1966 to 1967. But far from being an instant calling card into Hollywood, the resultant film, Equinox: A Journey Into the Supernatural, and its makers went no where for several years. Eventually, however, Muren was able to place it in the hands of Jack H. Harris, who did some re-editing and re-shooting, adding a few new characters and requiring the old cast to find the clothes they wore during the shoot two years earlier. The new Equinox made its debut in 1970 and received wider distribution starting in 1971.

It became a cult; but also rather difficult to see, unless one spent a lot of time up late watching movies on television in cities that had many, many channels. It became a cult probably because its special effects harked back to the style of Ray Harryhausen, and because it represented an act of will by the boys, who would not settle for being simply fans. McGee went on, after a long hiatus, to write screenplays for such as Stepmonster. Danforth, who had some 20 credits before Equinox, went on to work on over 60 films, while the late David Allen worked on Honey, I Shrunk the Kids and Young Sherlock Holmes. Muren hitched up with George Lucas and worked on the Star Wars films, and with Industrial Light and Magic won six Oscars, for The Abyss among many others.

As a late night film, Equinox must also have influenced other aspirant filmmakers. Among them may have been Sam Raimi or some of his Michigan collaborators who worked on The Evil Dead with him. The stories are quite similar, though the difference in tone between the two films shows how much the world and cinema changed between 1967 and 1981. In Equinox, four youths embark on a trip to the woods to meet a college professor. But the prof has gone mad, and they take off his body a Book of the Damned, which apparently is the cause of his demise. The four youths then find themselves victim to numerous preying monsters and demons, which try to possess or kill them. Only one escapes, and in the ’71 version’s book ends, David Fielding (played by Skip Shimer, credited as Edward Connell in his only role) makes his way to the highway, like Kevin McCarthy in Invasion of the Body Snatchers (a film that McGee had seen almost 100 times), and himself ends up in the madhouse.

Some filmmakers might find it embassassing to have so amateurish a work resurface late in life (Kubrick and now his estate won’t let anyone see Fear and Desire). But with Equinox it’s a fascinating peek into a an enclosed world of fans, privileged knowledge, and specialization. Equinox‘s acting is uneven, the special effects are obvious, the script is frequently incoherent. But they did it. The kids actually made a movie. Such serendipity makes me pine for the pre-internet days of horror magazines such as Famous Monsters and Castle of Frankenstein, and the first real ‘zines, mimeographed at home or at school and mailed to a small list of 100 or less “subscribers.” We are talking about kids who were very, very serious about thier fandom. It was harder to be a fan, and a Darwinian imperitive separated the wheat from the chaff. Only those with great drive, determination, and selfishness (don’t fora minute think that nerds are passive, feckless weaklings: amonst themselves they can be as aggressive, harsh and bullying as any random grouping of atheletes). Today, relatively speaking, it is easy to be a fan, and in fact the culture encourages it, as a profitable economy. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, lines of communication were limited and the films themselves were hard to watch. It is no coincidence that ’50s fandom rose along with TV and drive-ins, venues that gave the kids something to be fans of. At the same time, though, the buffs with the ‘zines wanted to do something with their fandom, wirte books, make movies, fashion horrific faces out of plastic or bring to fruition fantasies of space flight.

The Criterion Collection has a knack for singling out cheap horror films that have a pervasive influence on the film culture while themselves being forgotten, films such as Carnival of Souls, which influenced Night of the Living Dead. If Equinox influenced Raimi (and it is not at all clear that it did, since the premise is a common enough idea), than it helped gave birth to a number of important careers and films among its Michigan film geek viewers. Equinox (The Criterion Collection, No. 338, 1967, 1970, 82 minutes and 71 minutes, color, NR, full frame, DD mono in English with English subtitles, animated musical menu with 18-chapter scene selection. 16 for the 1967 version, 32-page insert with chapter titles, transfer info, pix, credits, and essays by George Lucas, Ray Harryhausen, and Brock DeShane, keep case, two discs, $39.95, released on Tuesday, June 20, 2006) is for fans, specialists, and historians only. Muren calls Equinox a “fossil.” I don’t think that a “regular” viewer stumbling upon it is going to get much out of the film. But a dedicated fan will enjoy the two versions of the movie, and the commentaries that go with them (Viewing Tip: watch the original version first, and then the re-editied mass-distributed version), plus all the extras.

The 1970 commentary track is by veteran writer-co-director Jack Woods and producer Jack H. Harris. For the 1967 version, effects photographer, producer, and director Dennis Muren, writer-codirector Mark McGee, and matte artist, cel animator, and effects techinican Jim Danforth chat, though in two edited-together tracks. In this track, we learn that Robin Snider, billed as Robin Christopher, and who played Vickie, was a childhood friend of Stevie Nicks and influenced some of the songs she wrote. And we learn that part of the film was shot in Bronson Canyon, and it is clear that Equinox uses the same cave that Ford uses at the end of The Searchers. Also in the cast were the then Barbara Hewitt, later a Rose Queen and now a minister, as well as Frank Boers, Jr., later known as Frank Bonner and a cast member of WKRP in Cincinnati. We also learn why science fiction writer Fritz Leiber, of all people, appears in the film as Dr. Arthur Waterman. Disc round also includes a video introduction by Forrest J Ackerman.

Disc two features a video interview with Muren, and an edited assembly of interview segments with of the actors from the show, Bonner, Hewitt, and James Duron. “Monstrous Origins” includes outtakes, deleted scenes (include a pool-side party scene that features a vixen worthy of Russ Meyer), and some monster test footage. Zorgon: The H-Bomb Beast from Hell, from 1972, is a silent eight and a half minute short film with some of the same people who worked on Equinox, plus Rick Baker. “David Allen Appreciation” is a section of the disc that contains The Magic Treasure, an early animated fairy tale by Allen, which comes with a textual history, and Allen’s King Kong homage Volkswagen commercial, plus test footage. “Equiphemera” gathers together an exhaustive gallery of stills, on set shots, promotional material, and so forth, under the headings, Origins of *The Equinox, On Location, Designing the Demonic: Special Effects, Publicity and Promotion, Beyond the Barrier, David Allen’s Kong, and Buried **Treasure. The final grouping, “Trailer and Radio Spots,” contains one 1970 trailer and two radio ads.