How ironic that I had a nightmare about Larry Fessenden the night before attending the recent screening of his new scareflick, Wendigo, at Tribeca’s Screening Room here in New York. It wasn’t the movie that had me so spooked in advance, it the sudden realization that despite my admiration of his previous revisionist horror films No Telling and Habit, it was uncertain whether I’d actually be into his new movie. And I had to interview him the next day.
So, in the dream I step out of this elevator and am walking through a hallway with fluorescent lights flickering. I guess David Lynch was directing the movie in my mind. Anyway, Fessenden steps out of a doorway scowling. Missing a front tooth, wild strands of hair falling over his brow, he’s often cast as drug addicts and crazies in such films as Animal Factory and Bringing Out the Dead. He looks me up and down and says, ‘You didn’t like my movie? FUCK YOU, KID!’
Then I think he started smashing things or something. Thankfully, I woke up.