by Mike McCarty
1944: Fever Dreams, poetry collection, Wise Monkey Publishing.
1949: Mantis Attack!, novel, Royale Books.
1955: The Devil’s Stepdaughter, novel, Royale Books.
1957: The Nightmare Quadrant, anthology television program (one episode),
Transcontinental Broadcasting System
1959: Revenge of the Gumbo Witch, novel, Royale Books.
1961: “Gumbo Witch!”, motion picture, writer/director, American Quality Productions
1963: “Night of the Crawdad,” motion picture, writer/director, American Quality Productions
1964: Loup Garou Mansion, novel, Black Ice Books
1965: “Loup Garou Mansion,” motion picture, writer/director, American Quality Productions
1966: Vampire Chateau, novel, Black Ice Books
1968: “Vampire Chateau,” motion picture, writer/director, American Quality Productions
1970: “Tanya Does Tallahassee,” motion picture, writer/director (under the pseudonym of Candice B. Possible), Wanton Ways Productions
1974: “Dracula VS. The Disco Groove-Thang,” motion picture, writer/director (under the pseudonym of Aloysius Gingham), American Quality Productions
1975: “March of the Mad Mummies,” motion picture, writer (under the pseudonym of Francis Wax), Pharaoh Films.
1983: “Night Terrors on Sycamore Street,” motion picture, writer/director (under the pseudonym of Sherwood Catalpa), American Quality Productions
2007: Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois died on his birthday, December 12.
Interviews with Cast Members
Kevin L. Jacobi, Chip Ranger, and Norma Jean Tumble
Conducted by Mark McLaughlin
The Alienoid Speaks!
Kevin L. Jacobi Talks About
Life as a Professional Monster
Interview Conducted by Mark McLaughlin
At age seventeen, Kevin L. Jacobi was already six feet, seven inches tall. His father, an executive with the Transcontinental Broadcasting System, pulled some strings to land the role of the Alienoid for Kevin. But as it turned out, those strings hadn’t needed pulling after all: Kevin stood head and shoulders–literally–over the competition.
His impressive height was a calling card that opened every studio door for him–provided the studio was shooting a monster movie. Over the years, he performed in seventy-nine horror films–always under so much make-up and so many prosthetics that no movie-goer ever recognized him in the street.
The Alienoid was his first performance of any kind. Subsequent key roles in his career included:
The Abominable Yeti in “Blood-Curse of the Abominable Yeti”
The Chief Voodoo Zombie in “Voodoo Zombie Drums of Tarantula Island”
The Frankenclone Monster from Hell in “I Married the Frankenclone Monster from Hell”
The Creature in the Root Cellar in “The Creature in the Root Cellar Has Risen from the Grave”
The Fifty-Foot Vampire King in “Attack of the Fifty-Foot Vampire King”
The Disco Groove-Thang in “Dracula VS. The Disco Groove-Thang”
Kevin L. Jacobi now lives in an upscale retirement community in Phoenix, Arizona. We enjoyed a fine merlot as we talked out on the balcony of his condo.
MM: It must have been exciting, being on TV at age seventeen. All your friends must have envied you.
KLJ: Friends? I didn’t have any friends! I towered over all the other kids at school and none of them would talk to me.
MM: I’m sorry to hear that. Weren’t you on the basketball team? Being so tall, I–KLJ: Couldn’t dribble! Couldn’t shoot straight! Look at these massive hands of mine. Even handling a basketball is too sensitive a maneuver for these big bony banana-fingers of mine.
MM: So playing monsters must have been a good career direction for you.
KLJ: Exactly! No detail work. And no typing involved! People ask me why I’m not on the Internet. How could I ever type up an email? The keyboards are too small for me.
MM: So I guess you don’t have a cell phone...KLJ: Exactly! I hate those crappy little things. They’re too damned tiny.
MM: Let’s talk about “The Nightmare Quadrant.” Did you enjoy working with Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois?
KLJ: Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois was certainly the strangest person I’ve ever met. From a distance he seemed perfectly fine, but once you got closer, you soon realized he was not an especially clean man. His fingernails were terrifying. And he called everybody “Sugar”–do I look like a “Sugar” to you?
MM: You seem like a nice person, but you’re right–I wouldn’t call you “Sugar.” I’m curious about something. Despite his various personal flaws and idiosyncrasies, Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois was an extremely successful man. After all, he managed to get a TV show on the air–only one episode, but still, he did it. How do you account for his success?
KLJ (smiling): He had a sort of wild, reckless, and yet worldly charm about him. He was extremely passionate about everything he did. He seemed to exude power. He used that power to get his way. He wrote some novels–I tried reading one of them and it was just awful. One whole chapter was about praying mantises–and it was a book about a werewolf! A werewolf who lived in a mansion and didn’t cast a reflection. But hey, it got published, along with plenty of others he wrote.
Many people considered him a genius, because after all, geniuses are supposed to be eccentric. Norma, who played Edith in “Cry for the Alienoid,” practically worshipped him. But then, she was always kind of kooky. She believed in tree spirits and stuff like that.
MM: Did you think Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois was a genius?
KLJ: Hmmm. Good question! He did mispronounce a lot of words–geniuses usually don’t do that. I’m tempted to say, “Hell, no!”–and yet, I’m also tempted to say, “Can there be any doubt?” In the long run, I’d have to say: Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois was a genius...at being Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois.
MM: Did you know he was an entomologist?
KLJ: Yes! He was goofy about insects. He loved them. He once said to me, “Sugar, the Alienoid moves JUST LIKE a praying mantis! He even has a praying mantis HEAD. Soooooo....MOVE like a praying mantis!” Three or four times he came up to me with a praying mantis in the palm of his hand. A live one! He would say, “Watch him! Watch how he moves, and move like that!” It was like he was able to produce praying mantises out of thin air.
Oh, and he was always singing weird little songs and reciting weird little poems–his own creations, I believe.
MM: Can you remember any of them?
KLJ: I can certainly remember his praying mantis song! He sang it to me several times during production. It went something like this:
Mantis-friend, arms at an angle,
head just like a big triangle,
what thoughts go through your tiny brain?
Are you okay, or quite insane?
What exactly is your plan?
Will you outlive the human man?
That was the first verse...the whole song had at least a dozen verses. Like I said: he was goofy about insects. Everyone on the set speculated about Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois’ sexuality: was he straight or gay? Personally, I think he had an insect fetish–which of course he could never satisfy, since insects are so small. Like cell phones, except even smaller!
MM: Did you and Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois stay in touch after “The Nightmare Quadrant”?
KLJ: Ah! I see you haven’t done your homework!
MM: What do you mean?
KLJ: I worked with Alphonse Seetwater-DuBois one more time–in the Seventies! The credits of “Dracula VS. The Disco Groove-Thang” state that it was written and directed by Aloysius Gingham, but in fact, that was one of the many pseudonyms of Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois.
MM: Many pseudonyms? How many did he use?
KLJ: Who knows? I do know that he once wrote and directed an adult film under the female pseudonym of Candice B. Possible. He wasn’t into porn, but he was having tax problems and needed some quick money.
MM: I’ve never seen “Dracula VS. The Disco Groove-Thang”–what did the Groove-Thang look like?
KLJ: A big praying mantis in a leisure suit.
MM: No!
KLJ: Yes, sir! Alphonse Seetwater-DuBois recycled parts of the Alienoid costume from “The Nightmare Quadrant.” He also used parts of that costume in another monster movie of his from the Eighties–“Night Terrors on Sycamore Street.” He wrote and directed that one under the name of Sherwood Catalpa.
MM: I’ve seen that one! It was very...talky. Characters always explaining things.
KLJ: Just like “Cry for the Alienoid” and “Dracula VS. The Disco Groove-Thang.” I once told him, “Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois! All this exposition is driving me nuts! Show, don’t tell!”
MM: And what did he say to that?
KLJ: He said, “I am not going to take writing advice from an unusually tall man who has difficulty moving like a praying mantis.”
MM: That...doesn’t make any sense.
KLJ: Once when Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois was mad at me, he called me a “peppersnipe.” That didn’t make any sense, either. And once he told me that the letters in ‘Kevin L. Jacobi’ could also spell ‘I lack job vein.’ I thought maybe he was making fun of me because I used my middle initial. I suppose it’s a little pretentious, but then, so is having a hyphenated last name! So the old ding-a-ling is finally dead, huh?
MM: Yes. He was 107 years old.
KLJ (smiling): You know, I saw a praying mantis yesterday. And another one a few days ago. They sure are funny-looking things.
MM: After he passed away, I inherited his papers, and I never came across anything that indicated he had anything to do with “Dracula VS. The Disco Groove-Thang” or “Night Terrors on Sycamore Street.” Do you have any idea why?
KLJ: He wasn’t very good at keeping records. That’s probably what led to his tax problems. The trunk of his car was filled with various drafts of different scripts, songs, poems–and receipts! He had three different briefcases, and sometimes he would come to work with the wrong briefcase. I’m sure there are lots of different manuscripts of his tucked away in weird spots all over America. I once read that even though squirrels hide their nuts, they rarely remember where they hid them. He was like a squirrel that way.
MM: If Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois were alive in this room right now, what would you say to him?
KLJ: I would say, “ Welcome, curious traveler. Did you ever reach your unexpected destination? Did you ever find...the Nightmare Quadrant?”
A Chat with Private Kinsey
Chip Ranger Remembers Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois
Interview Conducted by Mark McLaughlin
Chip Ranger was the same age as his character–twenty-five–when he played Private Kinsey in “Cry for the Alienoid.” The fresh-faced young soldier of that surreal sci-fi adventure is now a distinguished, retired lawyer living in Boca Raton, Florida.
When I called Chip and asked if I could pay him a visit and interview him about Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois, his initial reply was, “What? Are you kidding?” But we talked for another twenty minutes and he eventually agreed to meet with me.
MM: Chip, your first response to my request for an interview was, “What? Are you kidding?” Care to explain?
CR (laughing): Because working with Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois was probably the most stressful, nerve-shredding experience of my life! For one thing, he insisted on being called by his entire name: Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois. And the crazy thing is, I couldn’t call him by just his first name even if I tried–all these years later! Back when you first called me, I noticed that you also call him by his entire name.
MM: Yes, I do. I never got to spend much time with him, but I do recall that he insisted on being called by his entire name. Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois. It is a rather compelling name.
CR: That’s true....Oh, and he had long fingernails. Dirty, too. He really liked gardening and he never cleaned under his fingernails. And he called everyone “Sugar.” Men, women...to him, everyone was “Sugar.”
MM: Yes, he used to call me “Sugar,” too. I just figured he couldn’t remember my name.
CR: Hmmm. You may have a point there. If you have a poor head for names, just call everyone “Sugar”...Oh, and he mispronounced really common words. LIE-berry instead of library. Obli-GAT-ory instead of obligatory. OM-nipotent instead of omnipotent. Also, he made up words. Like Alienoid. What the Hell is an Alienoid? The creature was an Alien. There’s no such word as Alienoid. But because he was the big-shot producer/director, everyone went along with Alienoid.
MM: Don’t you think ‘Alienoid’ sounds more mysterious...?
CR: No, it doesn’t. It sounds stupid.
Worst of all, Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois used to blow up over the littlest things–make a huge fuss!–and then just laugh about it ten minutes later. That, more than anything else, absolutely drove me nuts. I remember once, I had a beer before one of my scenes, and he threw the mother of all fits. “You rotten, drunken peppersnipe!” He actually called me a peppersnipe, whatever that is. Then he started hitting me with a rolled-up script! He went away and ten minutes later, he came back with beers for everyone. Crazy! And he didn’t even apologize for hitting me with the script.
Of course, Norma just thought he was the greatest thing since the invention of the wheel. She played Edith in the show. She was a really nice gal. She was crazy about him, though I don’t think it was a sexual thing. She was the kind of person who believed in tarot cards and horoscopes and stuff. She just couldn’t get enough of his wild, nutty behavior.
MM: He was extremely eccentric, yes. But surely you must have something nice to say about him.
CR: Of course I do. He never knew it, but I was deeply in love with him.
MM: Really?
CR: Some interviewer you are! “Really?” isn’t much of a question. Yes, really!
I never expressed my love to Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois. I was afraid to make that leap. He scared me too much. He was quite good-looking, but he was just too strange, and those dirty fingernails–! The age difference–that was a factor, too, I suppose. But I might have been able to overlook it, if he’d cleaned his fingernails and behaved in a remotely normal fashion.
MM: From everything you’ve said about him so far, I would have thought you’d hated him. What did you love about him?
CR: I’ve given this a lot of thought over the years. I would have to say: he was like a winged tiger with a missing ear and half a tail.
MM: Could you explain that?
CR: He was extremely flawed: the missing ear and half a tail. But he was also incredible: I mean, come on! A winged tiger! How amazing is that?
MM: But why a tiger–and why a winged tiger?
CR: His imagination...his spirit...was always soaring, non-stop. And he always had his claws out. But not to kill. Just to scratch.
MM: My research indicates that you never acted again after appearing in that episode. Why is that?
CR: After doing that single acting gig for Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois, any other performance would have seemed...too easy.
MM: Did you stay in touch with him?
CR: Yes! For the rest of his life. I called him about once a week. Each and every phone call drove me nuts, but I still kept calling him. He used to recite his poetry to me over the phone, and sing little songs, too. It was all crap, of course. Have you ever read any of his novels? I’ve read every single one of them, and they were crap, too! Crazy crap! But compelling crazy crap.
I talked to him every week
. Week after week, until the day he died. He did tell me many times that he looked forward to my calls.
MM: And you never told him that you were in love with him….
CR: Never.
MM: Do you think he knew?
CR: No, he was always in his own weird little world. His brain was like the Alienoid, trapped in the mansion of his head. He was always busy, busy, busy–with his businesses, his music, his poetry–and bugs! Bugs, bugs, bugs! Especially praying mantises. I think he identified with them somehow. He once told me, “Ain’t praying mantises the most amazing creatures? They look like little robot warriors!” That’s probably why the Alienoid looked like a praying mantis. Several times, I actually caught him playing with a praying mantis.
MM: Playing...?
CR: Oh, not in a mean way. Once, he had one in the palm of his hand, and he was feeding it little pieces of hamburger on the end of a toothpick. It was cute, actually. In a surreal sort of way. The praying mantis even had a name. Oswald, I think it was.
MM: I do want to thank you for taking the time to–
CR: Hold your horses! This interview isn’t over yet. I have more to say. I don’t want you or anyone in the world pitying me because I loved Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois from a distance. You can cry for the Alienoid, but don’t cry for me.
Loving him from a distance was–enough. It worked for me. Anything more intimate probably would have been too much–it might have killed me, since he was such a contrary creature, claws and all! But still....I wish I could talk to him on the phone just one more time, so I could hear him mispronounce just one more perfectly common word.
You know, I saw a praying mantis last week. I was thinking about Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois at the time, too. I was remembering something he’d told me about five minutes after we met. He said that the letters in ‘Chip Ranger’ could also spell ‘pig rancher.’ Isn’t that the strangest thing to tell someone you’ve just met?
Alphonse Sweetwater-DuBois drove me crazy, yet somehow that craziness...nourished me. Some people are gluttons for punishment. Maybe I’m a glutton for craziness. Earlier, you thought I hated him. I do!