Johnny Gruesome

On the cover of Johnny Gruesome is a laudatory blurb from Gunnar "Leatherface" Hansen. Well, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the original) is one of my all-time favorite movies, and I also enjoyed seeing Hansen in Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers with Linnea Quigley and Chainsaw Sally with April Burril, and I even got to meet the guy at a convention and he was a helluva nice guy. So before I even open the book, I'm thinking, "I trust Gunnar, I'm in for a great read."

The front papers of the book are also covered with blurbs of praise, including one from the Godfather of Gore himself, Herschell Gordon Lewis. I love Lewis' movies (my favorites being the seminal Blood Feast and The Wizard of Gore), so now I'm really excited: "Gunnar and Herschell love this book? I'm sold!" I was even more sold when the inside back cover revealed that the author, Gregory Lamberson, made Johnny Gruesome into a short film starring Misty Mundae (Erin Brown) whom I've met at a number of conventions, and who is a wonderful scream queen in countless Seduction Cinema b-flicks and in Lucky McKee's Sick Girl. This, plus the other blurbs, had me thinking that I was in for some deranged, demented, balls-to-the-wall, hellbound, gut-wrenching, heavy-metal-infused, gore-drenched reading. Sadly, I was not.

I don't know where the disconnect lies. Many people love this book, including those I mentioned above, whose work I admire. But I couldn't find my way into this one. I love b-movies, I love horror, I love metal and schlock and sleaze and pulp and cheese and gore and this book should be right up my alley. But alas. In my estimation, the writing was flat and lifeless, except for a few well-wrought scenes of gore and violence. The book had no real sense of place and the characters were so thinly drawn that they were just lists of names with no personalities.

Beyond that, the revenge motive was murky, the reason for Johnny's demise perplexing. There was a certain amount of hand-waving in the book, where certain key points (I'm not going into too much detail because I'm trying to avoild spoilers) are simply glossed over. Lamberson states in his acknowledgments that Johnny Gruesome started out as a screenplay and I think that really shows. For instance, there's a chapter early on in the book devoted to a funeral. It is the most emotionless funeral I've ever read or watched and reads mostly like a set of staging instructions so that the characters aren't upstaging each other or blocking the camera angles. And even though the titular character has a little more snarl to him, even he is mostly flat and uninteresting.

I really wanted to like this book. I really did. The name-dropping I indulged in up above is also intended to show, to some degree, that I have some bona-fides as a fan of this type of material. I frequently enjoy a hefty dollop of bloody cheese, whether it is in book or movie form. And yet I just can't recommend Johnny Gruesome. It was tepid and tedious and I'm glad I've finished reading it, because now I can cross it off my list and remove it from my library. There will be no re-read for me. But if you're adventurous, perhaps give it a try. Based on the praise heaped upon this book, mine is a minority opinion.