I've always had a morbid fascination with ventriloquists. What other kind of fascination could you have with them?
Years ago, I was freelancing for the Fox Family Channel. One of the programs I had to write about was a special called the World Of Magic that was filmed at the Hollywood Palladium. I went to the show, and saw a lot of poofy sleeves, tired doves and startled looking rabbits.
But towards the end, there was a magician that had a grotesque looking mask on his face. He removed it, and underneath was another mask. And another one. And another one. He was pulling them off one after the other at an insane speed. He must've had fifty masks on.
I turned to the girl sitting next to me and said, "I'm going to go out on a limb and say he had a pretty screwed up childhood." She said, "If you think that's messed up, you ought to see the vents." By vents she meant ventriloquists. Come to find out she was Erica Larsen, daughter of the founder of the Magic Castle. We talked for a bit, and she told me about all the vents that performed at the Castle.
I was hooked. I decided then and there I was going to make a documentary showing the bizarre world of ventriloquists.
I met Erica at the Castle for lunch and told her the idea. She liked it a lot, and said she'd be happy to connect me with some vents. I also wound up going to the International Ventriloquist Convention in Las Vegas, where I shot a lot of video and interviewed many of the participants.
One of the things I remember most is the woman who'd only talk or answer question through her dummy.
It's a little surprising I could even look at a ventriloquist dummy after a prank my roommate Ned pulled on me years ago.
Ned owned a Jerry Mahoney dummy he knew creeped me out. He also knew I got up in the night to go to the kitchen. So he put the dummy on the kitchen counter right next to the frig. That night, about two in the morning, I went to the frig. I believe there's still a hole in the ceiling from when I saw the dummy sitting there.
And of course, I still get a chill thinking about the Twilight Zone episode pictured above, where a ventriloquist dummy is alive, eventually changing places with his owner - Cliff Robertson.
Anyway, add my documentary on ventriloquists to the list - along with accordion lessons, several screenplays, helicopter flying lessons and marathon training - of things I've started and never finished.
But the idea haunts me, and I imagine eventually I'll come back to it. After all the time and thought I've given it over the years, I'd be a dummy not to.