Here is the story of my visit to Hunter's well fortified and hard to find home near Owl Creek. Blasted!!! was shown there and we all had a hell of a time. It was a birthday party for Hunter’s 69th and he was there in the form of a powerful storm that formed over the valley and blew us all inside—but not before Jimmy Ibbotson serenaded him in the darkness, lit by strobes of lightning bolts and backed by peals of rolling thunder.
Showing the film was a strange and wonderful experience. Screening a film at a party that is in full swing is not an easy thing. Anita wanted to put the film on and sort of let it play in the background. I asked if I could go around the party and very politely, person by person, let it be known that the film was playing. She said that was OK. I completely understood her not wanting to interrupt people who were having a good time. But I knew that Blasted!!! was exactly the kind of film that one could enjoy while drinking, eating, talking and smoking various substances. So when the rain came and everyone was forced to seek shelter, I went around and informed folks that a movie was showing in the kitchen.
Anita started the DVD and turned the volume up half way-as one would when there is a party going on. But when it got to the section where every cannon owner started talking about what Hunter meant to them...there was a “click” and soon everyone was in the kitchen and watching. I was crouched down behind an end table next to the couch-seeking cover. Then I remember Anita laughing and cheering then there was some strange moment where she said, “OK Blue,” and she turned out the lights and turned up the volume and we all watched and laughed and talked and had a good time as cannons roared and echoed along with the thunder outside.
Later, I passed around a bottle of Laphroaig that I had buried in my yard for Hunter after he died…in case he needed it. When I dug it up, I found that quite a bit was missing, yet the cork was intact.
It was one of the best nights of my life and I wouldn’t trade it for a screening at Sundance or an Oscar or a fucking Three Picture Deal. I made this film for Hunter, with my own money and my own time and it’s a tribute to him and how his legacy continues to live on in the lives and actions of his fans. I made a promise to Hunter when I buried that bottle: I vowed that it would not be sullied by profit driven interests, or even the need to recoup its costs. He meant the world to me and still does and he deserves to be remembered as one of the greatest, strangest and most original creatures that ever walked the Planet Earth and therefore no film about him should be any different. He was a man of his time who continues to be timeless.
When the film was over, Anita lit Hunter’s Birthday candles, which were two big numbers (a 6 and 9), and she told me that I had won the honor of blowing them out.
I nearly fainted, or cried, or puked…but instead I blew them out.
Happy Birthday Hunter.
Slainthe,
Blue
PS-Pictures to follow in a couple of days.
