The Incredible Two-Headed Movie-Making Thing That Ate Las Vegas

John Thompson Jr

Wednesday, Aug. 12, 1998 | 10:02 a.m.

Before Quentin Tarantino and John Sayles, there were Ted V. Mikels and Ray Dennis Steckler -- two independent filmmakers who set out to make their own films in their own way.

Along the way, they've attracted an ardent cult following. Movie magazines such as "Fangoria" and "Video Watchdog" have devoted lengthy pieces to them; recently, they were featured on "Clive Barker's A-Z Of Horror," a BBC documentary series that also inspired a book of the same name.

Although their films differ in tone and subject matter, both filmmakers opted out of the Hollywood system long ago, setting up shop in Las Vegas. Although Mikels and Steckler have been labeled "B" movie directors, their films are often more entertaining than many Hollywood big-budget action pictures.

Meet Ted

Mikels, in particular, bristles at the "B" movie description. "My movies have had to go toe-to-toe with all the multimillion-dollar movies in the world, mine obviously done at a fragment of that amount of money," he says. Pointing to the various film posters that cover the walls of his office, he insists that "all these movies, when they came out in theaters, were 'A' movies." He says that people have the misplaced notion that an "A" movie is only the $50 million movie, and that the "B" movie is the independent, cheaper project.

"Any new movie that hits a town, any town, for the first time is an 'A' movie," Mikels explains. When the terms "A" and "B" were first invented, they referred to the billing order of a double feature. Mikels says a major studio release that had either not been performing well or had already been out for a few weeks often found itself on the bottom half of the bill.

Mikels says he'd rather be making movies than correcting people's misconceptions, however. His TVM Studios, near Tropicana Avenue and Industrial Road, is more or less a one-man operation. Mikels can be found here most days, wandering around his banks of editing and sound equipment or prepping a set for his next film. A few tombstones sit in the corner, props for one of his future projects, a sequel to his highly successful black comedy, "The Corpse Grinders."

Mikels is as colorful as his films. For years, he lived in a castle in Glendale, Calif., with six or eight women at a time. "It was a nice episode in my life," the director says, smiling wistfully. "I taught them how to make movies; it was a very honorable situation." He says people try to make more out of it than it was, insisting that he wasn't trying to follow in Hugh Hefner's footsteps.

The castle, encompassing more than 8,000 square feet, has been featured in some of his films, most notably in his witchcraft opus, "Blood Orgy Of The She-Devils." Mikels says that coming up with a memorable title such as "Blood Orgy..." is half the battle. "Nobody's going to pound your door down and say, 'Oh, what've you got?' You've got to use a novel campaign to get people ... interested in your film."

Mikels says that the death of independent movie theaters and drive-ins has made it harder to get his movies out to people. He's been forced to find alternative markets because of the expense involved in promoting a film. Getting a film booked overseas is actually much less of a hardship, he insists. Mikels also has made use of pay-per-view services, insisting that direct-to-video isn't even an option because of the low profit margin to the filmmaker. "I've always contended that once your movie's in the video store, it's dead," he says. "We independents don't get one penny out of rentals."

Mikels finds it interesting that he's been labeled a cult or horror movie director. Of the 40 or so films he's made, only five fall into the monster-chiller genre. One of his most noteworthy non-horror efforts is "The Doll Squad," a film that Mikels insists was the inspiration for "Charlie's Angels." Watching the film, the parallels become obvious. The lead heroine, Sabrina, even shares the same name as one of the TV characters.

Mikels never even considered litigation, however. "It's the kiss of death to sue somebody in Hollywood," he says, noting that this isn't the first time he's been plagiarized. He points out the similarities between his film "The Corpse Gringers" and "Soylent Green," the camp classic starring Charlton Heston and Edward G. Robinson. Both movies deal with a cheap food source made out of people. Mikels' film came out five years earlier.

Mikels' career has been filled with interesting highlights. In the "Astro-Zombies," he had the chance to work with the legendary John Carradine and Tura Satana, the statuesque star of Russ Meyer's "Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill!" Satana says that Mikels owns six pairs of her shoes. "He's always had a thing about my shoes," she reveals. "He thinks a woman's legs should end in high heels. He's a great person to work with. He has a very clever mind."

Even though he's carved out a reputation for himself over the years, Mikels says it never gets easier securing financing for his next project. Out of frustration, he once made a movie for only $438. He was able to cut down on expenses because he wrote, directed, edited and mixed the film himself; he also called in a lot of favors. In the end, he got something he believes "looks just as expensive as any $3 million movie. Of course, I'm not going to tell you which one it is," he says, laughing.

Meet Ray

Ray Dennis Steckler is also no stranger to the problems of film financing. "Summer Fun," his latest project, was shot on video (most of his films are direct-to-video) to cut down on expenses. For those familiar with Steckler's previous films, "Summer Fun" may come as a surprise. It's a G-rated silent movie -- yes, that's right, silent.

Steckler has always been one to follow his muse. Even though a silent film is a hard sell these days, Steckler wanted to make one anyway. For him, making movies is about having fun and finding new creative avenues to explore.

Steckler's most famous film is the improbably named "The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living And Became Mixed-Up Zombies." Also billed as "the world's first monster musical," it was a title he knew would attract attention. "It was a gimmick," Steckler says, explaining that long titles were in vogue at the time.

"The Incredibly Strange Creatures..." was and remains one of the most unusual exploitation films ever made, a beautifully photographed exercise in surrealism that also manages to keep its tongue firmly in cheek. Steckler also starred in the film under the pseudonym Cash Flagg, spending a good portion of his screen time wearing a hood and brandishing a big knife.

Steckler went on to star in several more films, looking a little like Nicholas Cage in his younger days. He became a tireless promoter of his films, traveling to small towns and appearing at midnight movie screenings. All of that effort eventually paid off. His early films are still talked about to this day. Watching a Steckler movie is a unique experience, kind of like breathing the air of a different planet.

Another Steckler film that's achieved cult status is "Rat PFink A Boo Boo," a spoof that was partly inspired by the "Batman" craze of the '60s. The film begins as an exercise in suspense and terror and ends up as an off-the-wall camp comedy. The two heroes, wearing bargain-basement costumes, spend the last half of the film battling a bunch of would-be kidnappers and an escaped ape named Kogar. Describing the movie in print is nearly impossible; once seen, it's hard to forget.

The film was inspired, oddly enough, by a series of obscene phone calls that Steckler's wife was receiving. The calls occurred only after he and his pal and screenwriting partner, Ron Haydock, had left for work. The caller had to be someone in the neighborhood, Steckler surmised, someone who watched them coming and going.

"I got an idea," the director says. "We went out in the car, Ron and myself, and we drove away. We parked the car around the corner and came back into the house." Sure enough, his wife's harasser was on the phone. Steckler picked up the receiver and immediately recognized the man's voice. He told his wife to keep the person on the phone.

"Ron and I then went next door to this apartment building where we knew this guy lived," he says. "We went up the stairs and knocked on the door." Steckler, noticing that the man's phone was off the hook, went into the apartment and picked it up. His wife's voice came through loud and clear on the other line. Steckler refuses to reveal the rest of the story at the risk of incriminating himself.

As a filmmaker, Steckler also has directed the video for Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" and worked with Todd Rundgren and Janis Joplin. Perhaps because of this, clips of his films are regularly seen on MTV Europe. "I'm more popular in London than in my own hometown," he notes.

Steckler says he never doubted he'd become a cult phenomenon one day. "I was taught a long time ago that, one, whatever you do in life, be yourself . Two, do what you want to do. Three, forget about people who say you can't make money doing what you like. If you're persistent enough and you don't give up, people will start to respond to what you do."

Michael Weldon, the editor of Psychotronic Video magazine, is one of those people. He started his magazine in the late '80s, wanting to showcase the "cool and unusual movies" he's uncovered over the years. His magazine has given birth to "The Psychotronic Video Guide" (St. Martin's Press), a massive book that features reviews of every cult movie under the sun.

Praise for both

Weldon has spent many hours watching the films of Steckler and Mikels. "Incredibly Strange Creatures..." is one of his favorite movies. "I just like saying the title," he says, chuckling. "Steckler's films are the oddest mixture of comedy and drama."

As for Mikels, he mentions the filmmaker's predilection for casting women in action roles usually reserved for men. "He seems to be a really nice guy and an interesting eccentric," Weldon says. He plans to interview both men for the magazine in the near future.

Mikels and Steckler are currently preparing for their next features. Mikels has three films planned this year. Steckler's next project is "77 Sunset Park," a movie dedicated to what he calls "the most beautiful park in the United States." Steckler hopes to show a new side of Las Vegas, one that only locals have seen so far.

Both filmmakers refuse to compromise. Mikels says he's been approached by the major studios several times in his career; he chooses not to bite the bullet, however, preferring his creative autonomy. It's a feeling with which Steckler can relate. "If someone gave me $60 million to make a movie, I'd take that money to make 61 million-dollar movies instead," he says. "I may have to make my films for next to nothing,' but at least they're mine."