One of my favorite movies is the 1987 cult classic, The Monster Squad. On Monday at the Alamo in Charlottesville, I’ll be seeing it on the big screen for the third time. Squad stars André Gower and Ryan Lambert will be there, too, answering questions about the not just the movie, but the impact it had on their lives as well as their careers. It’s ground they covered beautifully in the documentary Wolfman’s Got Nards (2018), the title of which is a beloved bit of dialogue from The Monster Squad that occurs when the kids find out that monsters have their sensitive little weakspots, too.
As a kid who saw The Monster Squad when it debuted in 1987, I was more than thrilled to have the opportunity to share my story in Nards. And of my three listings on IMDB, Wolfman’s Got Nards is my only contribution to cinema that doesn’t involve nudity. Still, I think having “nards” in the title brings it all together quite nicely.
It also took way more testicular fortitude to get to Winchester, where I got to meet André and tell my little story for Nards, than it was to drop trou in Spencer Tunick’s Positively Naked. So here’s the story behind the story behind the story.
In 2017, when a friend and Goonies loyalist told me that The Monster Squad was being shown on the big screen at the Alamo Winchester, two hours away, I was excited at the prospect of going. Plus, a few of the stars (André Gower, Ryan Lambert and Ashley Bank) would be on hand for a Q&A afterwards: a can’t miss opportunity if ever there were one… and I almost missed it. When the day rolled around, dark clouds had assembled. I felt like I needed to stay home. The creature comforts of home were winning out over the Creature from the Black Lagoon, one of Dracula’s henchmen in Squad. Gwenn, as always, supported whatever decision I’d make, even if it meant she was losing an awesome chunk of time to have our place to herself.
Whether it was by me staying home, or taking her up on her offer to join me for the roadtrip down memory lane. As much as I wanted to stay home, ultimately I felt like this was a journey I needed to take on my own: for the kid I was when I saw the movie with my friends in downtown Waynesboro. When The Monster Squad offered me the kind of fantastical escapism I needed to forget about my uncertain new reality with HIV.
That kid I was would have totally kicked me in the nards if I didn’t take advantage of this chance.
And, as fate would have it, I would have well earned that nads tax.
One of the reasons why I loved horror movies and slasher flicks was because they provided worse ways to die than what I thought was in store for me. AIDS seemed easy compared to, say, a Jason Voorhees harpoon blast to the ass. The Monster Squad, however, wasn’t one of those types of slasher movies. At its heart, its just like me: a big softy. As Phoebe tossed her beloved stuff animal to Frank, I cried- tears of gratitude that I not only got in the car, but that I was here to enjoy this movie like this again.
I wasn’t alone, either. I was surrounded by fans of the film, laughing a split second before in anticipation of the laugh lines. I also felt like I could look down the aisle and see my friends sitting beside me again, from 1987. Pointing at the screen when André’s character name, “Sean”, is revealed.
“That’s you!” They said, smiling brightly. Which made me, well, happy to be a Shawn, even one who had just had the biggest kick in the pants of his life up to that point. And there I was again, at age 42. Happier to be me than I was, say, three short hours earlier. The magic of magical movies.
After the movie, André, Ryan and Ashley (Phoebe) answered questions. A few people were on-hand recording the Q&A, and André informed the audience it was for a documentary that would become Wolfman’s Got Nards. Before leaving, I waited in line to get a poster signed by the trio. As he signed, I briefly told André about my first viewing and what it meant, thanking him and the gang for making the trip to Winchester, Virginia.
Before I could turn and head to the car, making way for the next person behind me, he asked if I’d elaborate on what I’d just told him to Henry McComas, the screenwriter, director and co-producer of Wolfman’s Got Nards. (Who has since produced his own horror movie, The Camp Host.) Of course I would! As a fan of The Monster Squad, I was over the moon. As an HIV educator? I was transforming like a werewolf over it.
In a private little hallway in the Alamo, I let the butterflies subside and just focused on the heart of the matter. When Henry teared up a little, I wasn’t quite sure what I’d said but I knew I’d gotten across why The Monster Squad owns some stake in my heart. While the first Squad theater viewing experience was all about escapism, the second one was just as special because it was embracism; acknowledging some of the mental health struggles I’d been having helped me get there. As did my then-newfound willingness to talk honestly with Gwenn about depression.
What was supposed to be one evening as a stand-alone adventure led to some pretty cool things, too. As a result of meeting Andy, the events coordinator at the Alamo in Winchester, I had the chance to share my experiences in a post-screening Q&A of And the Band Played On with Matthew Modine. Which made me the coolest uncle and godfather ever after I got a couple of Dr. Brenner signed swag for my efforts.
All because I listened to a little voice from the past, when a portal opened up and a scared, familiar face, said in no uncertain terms: Don’t blow it.
When Wolfman’s Got Nards came out, I got to see it on the big screen, too, when André and his squad mounted another tour of the Alamos. I even got us some local press. By the way, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the scene in Nards that triggered my waterworks.
Ryan Lambert, who played the ultra cool Rudy, opened up about how hard the aftermath of a box office bomb was on his teenage self. How it haunted him through his young adulthood and beyond. That the best thing in the actor’s young career became a curse. Embracing the cult status and love shown to the Squad in subsequent years was healing. In Nards, when André and Ryan surprise visit a fan who is unable to attend an event due to health issues, Ryan even sports his famous Rudy shades.
More tears.
Embracing when escaping no longer gets the job done, I could relate. In life, we have to step up and do the kind of things that just aren’t part of the arsenal when your brain is literally still developing. Also, I understood the curse of a blessing, too. Recently, I’ve been describing my cult classic Gen X memoir, My Pet Virus: The True Story of a Rebel Without a Cure (2006) as, well, a “cult classic”. Even though I still get very moving messages about it’s impact, for years I didn’t really bring it up because I felt like, somehow, I’d blown it, because it didn’t sell enough to warrant a follow-up…
I’m talking email, not even a follow-up book.
That book is one of the proudest things I’ve ever done. Some of the people I honored in it are no longer playing in the physical realm. Everyone’s favorite “character” was my Mom, who fought the true monsters of the day: the people that not only kicked me out of school but also denied it ever happened after My Pet Virus came out. Also, knowing now how much ADHD has impacted my entire life, despite being diagnosed less than ten years ago, adds to the pride; all of which only serve to add another layer of kinship with The Monster Squad, and how following my heart while fighting my mind landed me a couple of minutes in a Squad doc.
And now, I’ll be seeing the cult classic on the big screen for the third time.
Sometimes, it simply takes time to realize that a crushing loss in our unscripted dramas is merely a slow-burn build to set up the emotional payoff of the big win. When Hollywood aces this serve, it inspires us to think about our lives differently. To be the gutsy heroes in our own stories, whether you’re racking up “wins” or “losses”. To know when you have to flip your own script a little.
These days, the best way for me not to blow it has been to take things day-to-day. Use the things that worked back in 1987 and apply them to my reality today. To remember that I ever talked about HIV, and was in a position to write a book about it and reach as many people as Gwenn and I have… about something I never thought I’d open up about.
To live a storybook existence and build a home with the love of my life.
It’s the stuff of movies.
The longer I live, the more I’ve realize just how much I’ve learnt about myself in the times- or in the aftermath- of times when I’ve hurt the most. And it’s not easy to wake up to the fact that you’ve become the source of that pain: that the screams are coming from inside the coffin you’ve built to protect yourself against the cruel spotlight that is reality.
That’s usually when it’s time to flip the script- or at least it has been for me.
And coming off of one of my hardest year since 1987, my third big-screen viewing of The Monster Squad (Monday, October 14, 7pm Alamo in C’ville) might just be the best one of them all. Why? I get to support my Nards co-stars. 12-year old me would freak out over that. And as opposed to on the couch when we’re watching Squad on DVD, Gwenn will be by my side in the theater… holding my hand softly as Phoebe and Frank’s final goodbye to one another does what it always does, and turn on enough waterworks to drown the Creature from the Black Lagoon.
And you know what? As a Cleveland girl, Gwenn might hang back at the abode on a rare big-screen Monster Squad opportunity. With the monstrous performance this season by The Browns, who could blame her for enjoying the opportunity to watch the Guardians whoop the Yankees?
Thanks for reading and I hope this finds you well on your own never-ending and fantastical journeys.
Positively Yours,
Shawn