The Day After the Night of the Living Dead
Say goodbye to one of the world's best collections of horror and sci-fi movie props
By Richard Foss
There is a bungalow in Hollywood that is the haunt of supernatural creatures and ancient evil. Malevolent robots glare at visitors, and in one corner lurks the dark shadow of a vampire. The head of Dorian Gray sits on the mantel, and a severed arm lies on top of the refrigerator. In the midst of all this stuff of nightmare, an elderly man with a curled white moustache sits and pets a striped orange cat.
The bungalow is the home of Forrest J Ackerman, a.k.a. Forry, and the mannequin in the corner wears the cape that Bela Lugosi swirled in his memorable performance in Plan Nine from Outer Space. The mechanical humanoids are a Cylon from Battlestar Galactica and a perfect replica of the female robot from the 1927 classic Metropolis. The walls are plastered with posters and original art from old movies, and high on one wall are life masks of Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre, and other stars from the golden age of horror.
Ackerman started collecting film props in the 1930s, at a time when studios routinely threw them away at the end of each production. He was fascinated with horror and science-fiction films, and in 70 years of amassing props, he built up the world's largest collection. Along the way, he found various methods of making a living from his obsession with fantastic literature and films. He has been an author, publisher, editor, producer, literary agent, and a bit-player in movies with titles like Dracula vs. Frankenstein, The Nudist Colony of the Dead, and The Double D Avenger. But he's probably still best known as the man behind Famous Monsters magazine.
He also became a kind of ad-hoc museum curator. From time to time, he opens his home so the public can view the props, costumes, and art, and just hang around and talk. Conversations with Ackerman are generally the highlight of the visit. Though he is elderly and sometimes speaks slowly, he has an excellent memory and casually recalls conversations with Lugosi, Vincent Price, Robert Heinlein, and even H.G. Wells. He has particularly hilarious stories about his friendship with wild B-movie filmmaker Ed Wood, who was constantly trying to get Ackerman to publish his deranged prose. Unfortunately, Ackerman didn't save any of Wood's work (eventually published elsewhere), though he did keep another manuscript - the short story that a 14-year-old named Stephen King submitted to Ackerman for publication. It was King's first professional sale, and the title page hangs in Forry's living room.
Ackerman's grand assemblage has been dissipating over the past few years. He had medical problems last year and sold a few thousand books in order to pay his expenses, and soon much of the science-fiction material will go to a new Seattle museum being built by Microsoft's Paul Allen. Ackerman himself is staying put in Los Angeles and is scheduled to act in five more horror films. His combination home and museum will remain open with horror memorabilia after the science-fiction material departs, which is scheduled for mid-November. Visiting hours are Saturday from 11 a.m. until noon. Anyone who wants to see the dinosaur from King Kong or the damaged Capitol dome from Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, better act soon. For directions and more information, call (323) MOON-FAN (666-6326).Published: 10/29/2003
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