All Hail the Popcorn King (2020)

Writer Joe R. Lansdale has played an important part in both horror literature and later, film: without a doubt, his career to date is of interest to a wide range of fans. For my part, my first encounter with his fiction didn’t fill me with the instant enthusiasm shared by many of the contributors to All Hail the Popcorn King; however, after seeing Bubba Ho-Tep, this changed. The story of two forgotten men who find a sense of renewed purpose when pitched against lunatic supernatural odds is a phenomenal story, and it’s such a shame that we never got to tangle with Bubba Nosferatu…but in any case, it’s clear why the interest in Lansdale would be there, and why there should be a ready-made audience for this documentary film.

As you would expect, the biggest share of All Hail the Popcorn King is interview footage of Lansdale himself. He offers some childhood reminiscences, and a brief tour of some old childhood haunts: this is fun, and helps to underline what he establishes very early on: Texas, and living in Texas, is fundamental to his writing; he has never been one who would relocate at the first signs of success. His background wasn’t all plain sailing – his family was poor, his father illiterate – but an early love for comic books acted as a gateway drug, getting him into reading short stories and then novels. He did, though, bring a successful lawsuit against the junior college which wouldn’t let him enrol because he had the wrong kind of hair cut; Texas wasn’t always a tolerant, liberal place and perhaps isn’t still, but the overriding impression which Lansdale gives here is of a live-and-let-live approach. He still considers people of all walks of life and political persuasions as his friends; this is tangentially linked to some of his best-known characters, such as Hap and Leonard, whose common ground is given great importance; this, we’re told, is what you can expect from complex characters.

The other contributors used here go from well-known to less well-known: it all depends on how much American horror fiction you read, I guess, as of course lots of Lansdale’s contemporaries speak about him, most of whom are writers themselves. Amongst the more famous speakers are Bruce Campbell, Joe Hill, Rick Claw, directors Don Coscarelli and Mick Garris: unfortunately, and I do think it’s unfortunate, most of the higher-profile contributions here are audio only (with the exception of Garris, who gets some camera time). The publicity for the film describes it as a ‘B’ movie style project, and in common with ‘B’ movies, there doesn’t seem to be a generous budget here, though effort is made to add colour and interest with short clips from mid-20th century adverts, TV spots, original art and insider photos. There are a couple of sound issues when shooting outside, and I think it possibly would have been better to have the director/cameraperson actually appearing in the film, rather than gasping or adding odd words off-camera, as it’s neither an interview nor a one-person feature as it stands.

I think the main sticking point for me, though, is simply that the film doesn’t dig very much beneath the most superficial information – information already readily available. Yes, this film has to be a somewhat modest offering given its budget and, possibly, its timescale too; however, a little more oversight in terms of structure and direction could potentially have got more out of this opportunity. It’s very scattergun, not particularly driving at anything: for example, after moving from the success of Bubba Ho-Tep, the film turns its attention to Lonsdale’s martial arts background and then, having spent a good amount of the 55-minute running time touching upon his significant works and his career, ends on a number of new talking heads, all now back to the subject of what initially got them into his writing. His popularity as a writer was something for the opening scenes; I would have loved a few more in-depth questions about his work, his ambitions and legacy. This film drifts from place to place, amicably enough, but without real detail.

All of that said, if you like light-touch documentaries, something quite diverting to stick on for an hour, then you could find something to enjoy here. Whatever else its issues, you can’t argue with the affability and good humour of Joe R. Lansdale himself, and he is front and centre for most of the film’s running time.

All Hail the Popcorn King will be available later this year.