Tag Archives: mammoth wvh

A Zombie Walks Into A Bar…

The bartender says, “We have a drink named for you.”

And the zombie replies, “Great! I’ll have a Stacy!”

And that was the beginning of my first day of the undead: Two 12-hour slogs on the set of the nephew’s new music video, THE END, where I got to work with legends of the big and small screens. Check out my casting slouch in my audition for special effects wizard and Walking Dead director / executive producer Greg Nicotero.

Wherein Stacy does her best zombie shuffle in a feeble attempt to impress her hero.

“What do you want to do?” Greg asked. Vampire or zombie? Kill or be killed?

“I want it all! I want to be a vessel for your viscera!” I squealed, and he made my undead dreams come true: Two confirmed kills with three assists, plus I got to rip fake flesh from a victim and bathe in her fake blood.

“What have you done to your hair?” Greg asked, as he pulled the blood-soaked strands from my half-eaten cheeks. He sent the wrangler over to mist my rotting skin and restyle my stringy coif. Rookie mistake: Apparently you don’t have to get fake blood all over yourself to make it look real. They take care of that in post production.

The answer to your first question is: No, that’s not makeup. It’s a mask, and it was surprisingly breathable. The zombies and vampires that wore makeup endured three hours in the stylist’s chair and had to keep it on the whole time. I could take the mask off at will, but given that it was so comfortable – and that I was having so much fun jump-scaring my husband, my nephew, his wife, his mom, his bandmates and friends – I kept it on most of the time.

I had to stay in character.

#ForksUp! Hanging out with the professional monsters who had the starring roles. I learned so much from them.

The answer to your second question: Yes, it’s hard to be a zombie. I am not a professional actor, though I do have an IMDB page, and I am related by marriage to an Emmy Award-winning actress, bona fide Food Network Star and America’s Sweetheart emerita. That said, I have a fairly good idea of what it’s like to portray a middle-aged marketing manager, and I have observed pilates instructors, chefs de cuisine, computer programmers and legit rock stars to such a degree that I could conceivably play one on local access TV.

But to be a flesh-eating bit player in a million-times-viewed rock video that’s an homage to Robert Rodriguez’s cult classic From Dusk Till Dawn with a hat tip to Michael Jackson’s Thriller and nod to Van Halen’s Hot for Teacher?

Let’s just say, I was having trouble with my motivation.

What should have been eating brains was for me a knee-shaking case of: “HOLY SHIT! THAT’S GREG NICOTERO, DON’T EMBARRASS YOURSELF! OH CRAP, THAT’S ROBERT RODRIGUEZ! LOOK AWAY BEFORE HE SEES YOU! OMG! OMG! OMG! THAT’S DANNY TREJO! I WONDER IF HE BROUGHT US DONUTS AND TACOS?

And that’s why Greg was there: To teach us living how to be undead – to thirst for tibias instead of tacos. In every scene, Robert would direct the live actors, and Greg would direct the dead. That might mean that my sister-in-law would be punching out my flesh-eating compadres while my niece-in-law, Draia “The Slaya” Van Halen, would be smashing vampire’s heads into a table. Meanwhile, I and my fellow horders would be crouched in split squats behind barstools and guitar amps, just waiting for Greg to say the magic words: “MONSTERS! ACTION!”

Then we’d jump up, attack, feast, attack more, feast more and wait for him to yell “CUT!”

Typically we launched about five attacks per scene – two rehearsals and three takes – for back-to-back leg days (with some necks, arms and shoulders chomped on for good measure). Split squats and burpee jumps notwithstanding, it’s hard to be a zombie. The flesh-eating melee in the mosh pit had to look REAL!

I mean, if I’m going to feast on a hapless concert goer, I’m gonna take them down to the ground and pin them so I can nosh on their neckmeat. If you’re an unwitting victim and a zombie is trying to feast on your frontal lobe, you’re not gonna just sit on your barstool and take it. The problem is that if you’re a hungry zombie trying to grab a quick bite or the aforementioned victim trying not to get bit, you’re likely moving out of the camera view in a hurry – either down to the ground or away from the kill zone. And if you’re an unwitting victim, you don’t want to appear as if you’re wittingly expecting an attack when you hear Greg shout “MONSTERS! ACTION!” because what’s the point in having a jump scare if there’s no jump?

These are not things my pre-zombiefied brain considered while consuming all 177 episodes of the Walking Dead. Suffice it to say, I spent a lot of my downtime practicing my attack.

The answer to your third question: Horror is scary, but shooting that video was so much fun. So many times, people erupted into applause after Robert yelled, “CUT!” Especially when when Uncle Vampire-Pat bit Garrett the drummer’s head off (they have a history), producing the money shot of all blood spurts. Although my legs were throbbing and bruises healing a full three days after we wrapped, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much (not that you could see it under the mask).

The answer to your final question: Clearly, Uncle Vampire-Pat had his star turn, but where was Aunt Zombie-Stacy in the video? For those of you who don’t know his work (and you should!), Robert Rodriguez is well known for his fast-paced, quick edits – which is perfect for a high-energy rock video, but hard for people trying to find your favorite middle-aged rookie walker.

I know you were looking because the video didn’t make it to 1 million views in nine days without a little help from my friends, who likely blinked and missed me. Because so many of you have asked, I watched the video at .25 speed and put together my annotated highlight reel. Click on the top-right button of each time-stamped scene and enjoy… The End.

Frequently Asked Questions of a Rock Star’s Aunt upon the Announcement of Tour Dates

Can you get me free tickets?

No.

Can Pat get me free tickets?

No.

But he works for the band, right?

Yes, but he’s not going to buy tickets for you. Tickets are not free. They are paid passes that grant the bearer access to a concert, which in turn, helps the band and venue pay their bills. Ain’t nothing in life that’s free, and that includes concert tickets. Ask me how I know this.

How do you know this?

Because I buy my own tickets.

Well, doesn’t your nephew have some sort of secret stash of comp tickets? Can I have one of those?

Are you friends with my nephew? Do you have his phone number? If you called or texted him right now, would he respond to you immediately? The opening act is allotted a limited amount of complimentary tickets by the headliner — so limited that you could count them on two hands. Spoiler Alert: His girlfriend, his mom, his record label and publishing house, his agents and management team are more important than you, and there are more of them than can be counted on two hands.

Can I buy tickets just to see Mammoth WVH?

No, but if it makes you feel better: When you buy Guns N’ Roses tickets, you get see Mammoth WVH for free!

Fine. I’ll buy the tickets. Can you get me backstage?

No. On the tour announcement, you’ll notice that the nephew’s band is listed as a “special guest” which means he is not the headliner. He is performing at the pleasure of the headliner, which means there won’t be strangers hanging out backstage, courtesy of the aunt-by-marriage of the opening act.

Can I get a laminate?

No.

What’s a laminate?

Laminates are all-access passes assigned to band and crew members that allow them to move about the venue freely and securely in order to DO THEIR JOBS. Would you like to give me an all-access pass to your cubicle at work while you’re trying to do your job? I could rummage around in your candy dish looking for brown M&Ms while you’re in your 1-on-1 with your boss. Maybe I could take selfies of myself sitting in your desk chair when you get up to go to the bathroom, or better yet, I could follow you to the bathroom! Then I could snap some picks of us peeing together. I could also capture some candids while you’re on the phone trying to make sales calls, that is, when I’m not trying to steal used paper clips from your desk drawer or DNA from your coffee mug. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?

Can I hang out with Pat before the show starts?

No. He’s working. He’s not there to host you, to ferry autographs for you, to have snacks with you, or to take your T-shirt orders. His job is to make sure the opening act has everything it needs to put on a great show for the paying customers.

What about you? Can I hang out with you at the show?

No. I can’t afford to attend every show, but I will try to make it to a handful of geographically attainable performances in order to have conjugal visits with my husband in a hotel room I’m paying for because the opening act sleeps on the bus with ten (10) men.

That bus sounds cool! Can I see it?

No.

According to the tour schedule, your nephew will be in [ HOMETOWN ] on [ DATE ]. Can he play my [ RELATIVE OR ACQUAINTANCE ]’s bat / bar mitzvah / birthday / retirement / anniversary / charitable event / grand opening / backyard barbecue?

Unlikely. Unless you have $20,000 for a booking fee and access to a professional grade A/V system and a big enough electrical outlet to plug into as well as an accommodating homeowners’ association and favorable noise ordinances, in which case I can put you in touch with his agent.

OK, could he just do a drive-by then? Maybe a little meet-and-greet?

No.

Have you always been such an asshole?

Yes.

Seriously, the show is going to be great. Get vaccinated. Buy your tickets. Support live and local music whenever possible and rock on through the end of the pandemic!