Confession Stand with Megan Ward

Actress Megan Ward has starred in Joe’s Apartment, The Brady Bunch Movie and the TV series Dark Skies, whose complete run is now available on DVD from Shout! Factory.

FLICK ATTACK: Hi, Megan! So where are you today?

WARD: I’m at home today. I just put away, like, eight boxes of Christmas decorations in the back shed, and I feel like I deserve a cocktail or something for it.

FLICK ATTACK: Drink up!

WARD: No, it’s a little too early. But I swear, it was exhausting! So if I’m a little out of breath, that’s why.

FLICK ATTACK: I forgive you. So I was doing last-minute IMDb research and I learned that we both have daughters named Audrey, and you and my wife have the same middle name, so obviously, we share excellent, impeccable taste.

WARD: Oh, my God! Exactly! I don’t know when your wife was born, but it seems like around the time I was born, it was a very popular name. It seemed like I had no less than five friends who have the middle name Marie, so it must’ve been the trendy name of the time.

FLICK ATTACK: However, I have not had a guest role on Party of Five. So that’s where the similarities end.

WARD: Yeah. You didn’t die of a drug overdose. Didn’t devirginize Bailey, no.

FLICK ATTACK: Speaking of IMDb, it says you speak Japanese. Confirm or deny?

WARD: True! I do!

FLICK ATTACK: Say something.

WARD: No, it’s gone!

FLICK ATTACK: Oh, come on.

WARD: こんにちは。おはようございます。私の名前は Megan。どのようにですか?あなたの名前は何ですか?

FLICK ATTACK: And what’s that mean?

WARD: “Hello. Good morning. My name is Megan. How are you? What’s your name?” I grew up in Hawaii and every school offered Japanese. I had started modeling at the age of 9, so it seemed like a practical thing for me to learn. I wasn’t 100 percent, but I could read and write it. I could get around! But that was a long time ago. When I got to sushi restaurants now, inevitably, by the end, I go, “I know what he said,” but it’s far back and covered with dust.

FLICK ATTACK: Onto Dark Skies, since that’s what we’re supposed to be talking about. At the time it aired, serialized shows weren’t exactly in vogue. But after the success of Lost and 24, do you think it would do better nowadays?

WARD: Oh, my God, yes! It was completely ahead of its time. Part of its tragedy is that it was compared to The X-Files in that people felt it was ripping off X-Files. And the only way it was similar is that it involved aliens and a male/female lead. Other than that, it was a very different show and very much like all the shows that have been on now. I don’t know what it’d do — you can’t make these predictions on what will hit — but it’s very of-the-now. It’s very subversive, it’s very complicated, it involves historical events. Imagine now, people could be Googling and going to Wikipedia during an episode. Historically, it was all accurate, and that’s what made the intrigue and the twist on the story cool, and the more you knew about that, the more interesting it would be. It would be very timely to do that now.

FLICK ATTACK: Which was scarier for you: the alien creatures or the period hairdos you had to wear?

WARD: Um, I don’t know. That’s a really good question! Or the Playtex bra, or the girdle. I have to say, I really like the period stuff, I really like becoming a character, but you’re very limited to the person who’s doing your hair, the way the director wants it, the way the studio wants it. It was a bit of a struggle about the size of it and the shape of it. Somedays, it was great, and other days, I couldn’t believe it got so big. I just wanted them to trim it down somehow, with CGI effects.

FLICK ATTACK: You’ve been acting for 20 years now. Going back to the beginning, out of the four films you did for Full Moon Pictures — and I’ve seen them all — did any of them buy you a tank of gas?

WARD: Exactly! Well, yeah, sure! Charlie Band gave me my first job, which was Crash and Burn. And I think I had done one or two guest spots right before that. It was a feature film and a three-picture contract, even though it was just paperwork — it didn’t guarantee anything. It felt like a much bigger deal than it probably ended up being professionally, when you look back on it: “Oh, yeah, these are straight to video.” But they were all distributed by Paramount and it was great. He had quite the machine going there. He took a shine to me and really believed in me and I owe a lot to him! He gave me a bunch of movies there I feel like I cut my teeth on. Even though it was a small production, I feel very fortunate that that’s where I got my start. It was real moviemaking.

megan ward nudeFLICK ATTACK: This isn’t much of a question, but did you know I watched Amityville 1992: It’s About Time just because you were in it?

WARD: No, but I’m really flattered!

FLICK ATTACK: And would you believe I’ve seen it three times now?

WARD: Noooo, you’re kidding!

FLICK ATTACK: No, I’m not.

WARD: Those movies are fun. Those movies are so fun. They’re genre movies: You kinda know what to expect, and it’s fun to take the ride. Even though it was a small movie, again, and there are bits that are silly, I suppose, but it’s a legacy, the Amityville series. “I’ve been in an Amityville film.” You know, that’s pretty cool, I think! I like that I can say that.

FLICK ATTACK: Is it strange that when a lot of people hear your name, they automatically picture you attached to Blossom‘s older brother?

WARD: I wish they did, because then they would’ve seen the movie! I nearly killed Michael Stoyanov on that movie, Freaked. First of all, he came from a sitcom, so he was used to this really easy work schedule. Such lazy work, let me tell you. So he was getting used to these long hours and crazy locations, and we’re strapped together the entire time. He quit smoking and was getting married as soon as the movie was done. So he was under so much pressure! I was going to be the death of him, I know. He was annoying, but he’ll admit to it. I loved him then and I love him now, but he could be a pain in the ass. There was a rule that we couldn’t be strapped together for more than 20 minutes at a time before a break.

FLICK ATTACK: Within a span of two years you worked with both Pauly Shore in Encino Man and Jeremy Piven in PCU. Did SAG’s health plan cover the therapy bills this had to have cost you?

WARD: You know, they were both really, really good to me. They were really sweet. It’s funny now to me how famous they become. Pauly was very kind. He never pulled any diva stunt with me, but we weren’t that close, either. Jeremy was so our team captain on that one. We were all kids — I mean, Jon Favreau was in it, David Spade was in it — and we were all crazy and on the loose in Toronto for two months. He was a good leader.

FLICK ATTACK: You were on General Hospital. Did your time there coincide with James Franco?

WARD: It’s funny, because my character actually introduces his character, but because I was working on something else, I couldn’t be in the scenes where he was supposed to show up.

FLICK ATTACK: You got robbed, basically.

WARD: Yeah, yeah.

FLICK ATTACK: And our 15 minutes are up.

WARD: Ohhh …

FLICK ATTACK: It was a pleasure to talk with you.

WARD: Yes! And thanks for watching Amityville! And thanks for knowing Freaked, too!

FLICK ATTACK: Well, I have to admit I’ve had a crush on you since the ’90s, so …

WARD: Aw, that’s very sweet! And now, look, we have a daughter, Audrey! —Rod Lott

Additional questions by Allan Mott.

Buy it at Amazon.

Casino Royale (1967)

I have no cinematic guilty pleasures, so when I like a movie such as the absurd James Bond burlesque Casino Royale, I don’t feel guilty about it. Stupid, yes, but not guilty.

Helmed by six directors, led by Val Guest, and with three credited and seven uncredited writers — including such heavyweights as Ben Hecht, Woody Allen, Joseph Heller, Terry Southern and Billy Wilder — there’s no way this could be anything but a train wreck, and that’s what it is. But who ever said train wrecks weren’t fun to watch?

Based on Ian Fleming’s first 007 novel — yeah, like The Origin of Species is based on the Book of Genesis — the comedic premise is that Sir James Bond is called out of retirement to best SMERSH’s financier, Le Chiffre (Orson Welles), at cards. To confuse the enemy — not to mention the audience — just about everyone on the side of the good guys is called “James Bond,” so David Niven, Peter Sellers and Woody Allen, among others, are all JBs. Sir James (Niven) also enlists the aid of his love-child daughter, Mata Bond (Joanna Pettet), and sexy spy Vesper Lynd (Ursula Andress).

Hating each other, Welles and Sellers refused to be on set at the same time, so their scenes had to be shot separately and then welded together. It must have been pure hell. The enmity, at its core, seems to have been the result of people fawning over Welles and ignoring Sellers, who was finally fired before filming completed. He was replaced by a cardboard cutout.

If only the whole movie could have been welded together. It’s truly a near-incomprehensible catastrophe, but it’s saved by being so stupefyingly mid-1960s. Watch for a cartload of cameos, and the score by Burt Bacharach fits the idiocy perfectly. Maybe you had to be there, and if you were, you’ll probably have fun going back for a couple of hours. —Doug Bentin

Buy it at Amazon.

Telefon (1977)

The 1970s were ripe for great crime movies. Telefon may not be the pinnacle of the genre, but it’s good. It’s an unlikely vehicle for star Charles Bronson, as a KGB agent (but with no accent) trying to stop World War III by defeating rogue Russian Donald Pleasence, who’s using the telephone to dial up various Yankees who unknowingly have subliminal missions buried in their brains.

When Donald calls and recites a Robert Frost poem, it triggers them to enter a trance and embark on a suicide mission, whether that be taking out a military installation, an oil refinery or a phone company. It’s awfully repetitive, especially for a Don Siegel film, but its ‘70s tough-as-nails attitude cannot be denied.

Lee Remick, however beautiful, is clearly miscast as Bronson’s American agent who goes undercover with him (but thankfully, not under covers). If anything, Telefon serves as proof that Tyne Daly (here a CIA analyst) was ugly long before she got portly. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

The Possessed (1977)

Admittedly, it’s tough to compete with crucifix masturbation, but the made-for-TV chiller The Possessed tries its — dare I say it? — damnedest to ride The Exorcist‘s demonic coattails to the tube. Ol’ Scratch shows up at an all-girls’ school, where the most dastardly thing going on is spraying whipped cream and spermicidal foam in someone’s bed as a prank.

It all begins when a piece of paper in a typewriter catches fire. AAAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!! Next, some curtains flare up. AAAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!! Then, a girl’s graduation gown spontaneously combusts. AAAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!!

Investigating these matters are former minister/current alcoholic James Farentino and aging cop Eugene Roche. Suspicion falls on the male biology teacher (a pre-fame Harrison Ford, basically creating the role he’d later do for E.T.) until he goes up in smoke, too. He kind of deserves it, because he’s boinking one of the students. Then again, she is the super-cute Ann Dusenberry. I’d hit that.

Anyhoo, the person Satan possesses spits nails and vomits weak cherry Kool-Aid at Farentino while the girls watch, all in a tidy yet tired 74 minutes. It looks not so much like a possessed entity and more like this one woman I know who’s a sister of a friend of mine. She ugly. Did this really scare anyone? Ever? —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

The Return of Captain Invincible (1983)

Twenty minutes into the Down Under superhero satire, you find out that the filmmakers weren’t content to merely make a failed comedy, but a failed musical as well. It’s a startling revelation that unnerves you immediately … and it only gets worse from there.

It’s a shame, because The Return of Captain Invincible has a worthwhile premise and could’ve been an entertaining effort if it weren’t for the filmmakers’ stubborn insistence on fucking the whole thing up every chance they get.

Alan Arkin plays the title character, a once-great superhero reduced to an alcoholic mess after being forced to testify in front of McCarthy’s House of Un-American Activities Committee. Now a bum living in Australia, he’s called back into service by the President of the United States to find and stop the mastermind behind the theft of a powerful hypno-ray. Said mastermind turns out to be Invincible’s arch-nemesis, Mr. Midnight, who — as performed by Christopher Lee — has the film’s only semi-successful musical number (and even here I’m probably being a bit too generous).

Beyond a lazy script, lackluster direction and horrible songwriting, the movie’s biggest flaw is the casting of Kate Fitzpatrick as the female detective who lures Invincible out of retirement. Not only is she a terrible actress, but she also has all of the sex appeal of a Maude-era Bea Arthur, which would be fine if the filmmakers weren’t constantly ripping her shirt off, having her walk around without pants on and generally portraying her as being far more attractive than she actually is.

Because of the subject matter, you might be tempted to watch this as a double feature with Hancock. Fight that temptation — with all of your will and might. —Allan Mott

Buy it at Amazon.

Random Genre & Cult Movie Reviews