I Believe In Ghosts Do You?

Some people on twitter don’t believe that this is MY account. I believe in ghosts, do you?

TCM and Spine Tingler: The William Castle Story

Hope you all get a chance to check it out.  Let me know what you think.

Below is an interview with my daughter.

Enjoy!

Click here for Terry Castle Interview with TCM

San Francisco Chronicle Picks Rosemary’s Baby as the number one Scariest Film! It was and is!!!

I am not sure I am ready to talk about “Rosemary’s Baby,” but I think I must.  Deep in my core, I know that somehow I am responsible for unleashing evil into the world.

I read the gallies of Ira Levin’s book and knew it would make a great film.  I bought the rights to the story the very next day.

It would become a day I would cherish and  a day I would regret with every fiber of my being.

And yes, the stories are true, bad things happened upon making this film.  Bad things. Very bad things.

I had an inking of what I had stepped into by the hate letters I received from members of the Catholic church.  I didn’t take the message in these letters lightly. I read each one of them. I read them width=”322″ height=”400″ />

I am not sure I am ready to talk about “Rosemary’s Baby,” but I think I must.  Deep in my core, I know that somehow I am responsible for unleashing evil into the world.

I read the gallies of Ira Levin’s book and knew it would make a great film.  I bought the rights to the story the very next day.

It would become a day I would cherish and  a day I would regret with every fiber of my being.

And yes, the stories are true, bad things happened upon making this film.  Bad things. Very bad things.

I had an inking of what I had stepped into by the hate letters I received from members of the Catholic church.  I didn’t take the message in these letters lightly. I read each one of them. I read them more than once. And each one of them took its place in my beating heart.

Then a dear cousin stopped talking to me.  His wife was appalled that I would make a film so provocative,  a film about the devil. I had very few relatives, to lose him cost me dearly.

The film was made.  And I fought hard so that Roman could tell his story.  And he told it beautifully.  I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed that I didn’t direct.  I was.  But I had my hands full as the producer.

The studio was constantly on back.  “Stay on budget,” they would scream. “Stay on time,” they commanded.  We did neither of those things.

And then there was trouble brewing for poor Mia and her husband Frank.  And at times, I found myself right in the middle of a very complicated situation.

The film premiered in June of 1968.

It was a smash hit.  I had finally made it to the big leagues but the taste of success did not seem so sweet. It was 1968 and everything changed.  The entire world shifted.  I won’t be arrogant enough to say my little film caused all this. But I was a sensitive man.

January 1968, I watched horrible images on my TV set in the comfort of my beautiful living room. The TET offensive affected me deeply.  Our boys were dying in a war I didn’t believe in.  Then in June of the same year, I watched as Senator Robert Kennedy was gunned down in a Los Angeles hotel.  Our nation was in turmoil.  “Rosemary’s Baby” premiered and then a little film by George Romero called “Night of the Living Dead,” opened up in October of the same year. Horror films would never be the same again.  I watched, with thousands of others as “zombies” munched on human flesh. It was a master piece.  And thinking about it now, a brilliant commentary about the time in which we lived.

I enjoyed my success as much as I could for as long as I could.  But it didn’t take long before all hell broke loose.  First, the brilliant composer of the film Christopher Komeda died from head injuries on April 23, 1969.  This was one day before my fifty-fifth birthday.   Months later while I was on a small summer vacation with my family in San Francisco, we were walking by a newspaper stand and the headlines caught my eye,  causing my blood to run cold. The day before, on Aug. 9, 1969, Sharon Tate and her unborn baby were but two victims of the most hideous crime I had ever seen.

We returned home that same afternoon.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

October 31, 1969, Halloween night, my kidneys failed me and I had to have major surgery.  As I watched the anesthesia drip slowing into my arm, I swear I saw Rosemary’s knife carrying the reflection of the devil’s eyes dig deep into my flesh. “No, not that knife” I screamed but nobody seemed  to hear me.

This was the beginning of the end.  I didn’t die right then.  It took years.  But I suffered.  Enough!

I have told my tale.   Now I’m dead.  And I have a responsibility to the strangers.

Who are the strangers, you ask?  You will meet them soon.  God willing.

WC

It’s Hotter Than Hell!

Have a Bloody Mary on me on one of these hot summer nights. And think about screaming for your life…’cause you never know when the Tingler might break free.

WC

My 98th Birthday! Happy Birthday to me.

Hard to believe I would have been 98-years-old today. If I was still alive. As it is, I will always be 63!

Can you imagine what my cake might look like?  I remember my 50th birthday. Howard Koch had a cake made in the shape of a castle. It was lovely. But all those candles. Today you would almost have to double them. The castle would have to be huge to fit all those tiny torches!

But today I would like to take the opportunity to thank all of you for your continued support, your enthusiastic virtual embraces, your unwillingness to let me leave this world forgotten and dismissed.

You  have no idea how much your love and support means to my memory and the memory of those that loved me.

I died on a full moon.  My family was all around me. So many years later, the world is such a different place but there is one constant, we all miss the innocent bedlam.  Those carefree days when we would sit in darkened movie theaters and suspend our disbelief. Life like movies have become so much more complicated these days.

I would like for my birthday to take you back in time. To a place when you were happy watching a double feature in a beautiful movie theater. A place where you didn’t have to spend your entire paycheck for a ticket and some popcorn, a place where you didn’t over-analyze the films you were watching, a place where you wore dungarees and poodle skirts, a place that seems so darn far away.  But close your eyes and feel the feeling if you can. Could man really walk on the moon?  Could an African American man really become president? Could cars park themselves?

So many wonderful advances but I am here to remind you not to forget what we have given up. Never forget your innocence, where you have been, what the costs have been to get here.

Innocence isn’t lost just misplaced. Your voices are heard. I hear them! Loud and clear.

Thank you for bringing me back from the grave. Thank you for the warm wishes and delightfully devilish emails.

Now light a candle for me and remember those days gone by…I will be watching all of you.

It’s my birthday so don’t forget to scream. Scream for your lives!

WC

Solar Storms and other inconveniences that go Bump in the Night

“The biggest solar storm in more than 6 years is affecting earthlings this week, causing fears of radiation exposure for ISS astronauts and creating epically beautiful Northern Lights display for the residents the United Kingdom.”

I think it is quite sweet you all think this is a result of a solar storm…

“Earth is currently weathering the largest solar storm recorded in more than eight years, thanks to a giant wave of charged particles from the sun that slammed into the planet’s magnetic field Tuesday morning.

In the early hours on Monday, NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory caught an extreme ultraviolet flash from a solar flare, which was followed by a giant coronal mass ejection, or CME—a cloud of superheated gas and charged particles hurled off the sun.

The cloud headed toward Earth at a speed of about three million miles (4.8 million kilometers) an hour, reaching the planet a mere 35 hours after it had been unleashed.”

And you all think this is NOT at all related to ectoplasmic happenings?  Spiritual energy of, let’s say, me!

Yes indeed stay relaxed watch the glorious Northern Lights if you happen to be in the United Kingdom….No need for alarm.

Do you think this is what H.G. Wells would say or what William Castle would do?

No sir!

Try, “Run for your lives!  It’s here! It may look beautiful but strange beings are about to inhabit YOUR earth.”

Oh I wish it was the 1950′s again…if only for its innocence.  We could have certainly had some fun with all of you.

WC

My New House on Haunted Hill

It was a lovely spring afternoon. My wife, Ellen and I were driving among the picturesque towns of Southern France—the  Luberon Valley to be more precise.

What a day it was.  Sun was shining brightly; you could smell summer in the air. I had been in Europe promoting my films but I finally was able to slip away with the love of my life and meander through the astonishing countryside.

As with my wife, it was love at first sight.  Provence had me by the throat and it wouldn’t let go.

Villages atop mountainsides. Colorful markets in every village. Tree lined streets that ended in fields of lavender.

And that’s when I saw it.  My next home.  I just didn’t think it would be the place where I would spend eternity.  Perhaps it is not.  Perhaps I am only here until????

At the time I had thought the house looked haunted and it called out to me.  I bought it the next day.  Yes, Ellen thought I was mad but I pretended that I thought the house would make a great promotion for my next haunted house—millions of keys made, one lucky movie-goer would win a haunted house.  What I never told anyone was that I wanted that haunted house with its dilapidated violet shutters, broken down front porch, massive wooden door, and old limestone fireplace all for myself.  My own abode.  A place where I could regroup, recharge, refresh my own demented mind. An unusual haven in which to have an artist’s date with destiny.

I played with evil themes in the films I made and I ended up between worlds.  At least that is what I think. Perhaps there is another explanation. Perhaps you don’t want me dead.

Encased by old limestone and rotten wooden floorboards I pace the nights away. I can still build a roaring fire as the Mistral winds shake the leaded glass window panes.  I can still climb up steep but rickety stairs and sleep in a bed with starched white coverlets. They never seem to soil. Cobwebs build and dust collects but I have always enjoyed this kind of ambiance.

And I work.  I write.  I communicate with the other side.

I took years before anyone stepped into my world.

My world. How strange. How lonely.

Come visit me. Please.

I will throw a log on the fire and we can talk. I don’t think I would hurt you.  But I have never been a ghost before.

So, come in and say hello…if you dare.  I live on top of the hill, in a haunted house in Gordes, France.


WC

“Do you know where dreams come from?” Georges Méliès

I sat in the darkened theatre on Thanksgiving Day.  I was not alone. Others were there, sitting in the darkness, bags of popcorn in their laps, waiting for their turkey dinner later in the day.

I was there.  All of me.  I was present as HUGO played on the big screen.

I sat through a myriad of trailers.  All of the films were in 3D.  It seems like studios all think that 3D will bring butts into the theatres.  But, as a watched trailer after trailer, even “Titanic” re-mastered in 3D, I realized that 3D has the potential to make the audience to feel removed from the story they are watching.

Come on Hollywood, find some other way to fill your theatres.  Try Emerg-o or Percept-o.  A Punishment Poll can be great fun.  Even a Coward’s Corner.  With all the tools at your disposal can’t someone come up with a way to make a movie going experience an experience?

Yes HUGO was in 3D but that did not bother me in the least.  I was floored, bowled over, left breathless in the dark on Thanksgiving Day.

What a masterpiece of storytelling.

I cried.  Truly I did.  Tears as real as a heart filled with love.

The story of HUGO is a story for dreamers.

“Do you know where dreams come from? Just look around.  They are made right here!”

Méliès Studio

Georges  Méliès became a toy salesman after all his films were melted down to heels for shoes.

The films of the father of special effects were all but lost.  He was a dreamer.  So was I.

But because of fans of his work, film historians, some of the films of Méliès  were recovered and his art lives on.

I died thinking I was terribly unsuccessful.  But I have come to know that I am still remember.

I am no Georges Méliès.  But, like him I am a dreamer.  To feel appreciated is priceless.

So, I sat in the theatre and cried.

Scorsese loves movies.  He is a film historian.  He is a dreamer.  He told a story that uplifted me and broke my heart, and then left me feeling completely in his debt for a wonderful Thanksgiving Day.

I have so much to be Thankful for.  Most of all, for all of you.

Thank You!

WC

Are you a Twihard or a Twilighter? How about a Tinglerosa?

Say what you want but I am totally jealous. I mean totally. Words have been created for this series of books and films. Words like Twihard and Twilighters.

What about Tinglerosas or Sardonicistas? I would settle for Macabers or HauntedHillers. But no. I am green with envy! Say what you want, but these stories have followers and these followers have names, names that are now and forever in the urban dictionary.

Hey I am for true love and love at first site– does that make me a Twilighter or a Twihard? You tell me.

1. Twihard

Stupid obsessive people (mostly teenage girls) who are “in love with fictional characters and wouldn’t know a good book if it punched them in the face.
Twihard: “OMG!! Isn’t Edward Cullen like so hot??? I’m gonna marry him!!!”

Awesome person who isn’t insane: “Dude, he’s not real.”

Twihard: “How could you say that?! I’m in love with him!!”
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2. Twilighter

An serious/obsessive reader of the Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer, one leap above Twilighters.

The difference between being a Twilighter and being a Twihard, is that Twihards have embraced a new Twiligion… er…. I mean, religion based on Twilight. They live and breath Twilight. Most Twihards are for Edward and Bella. Therefore, those Twihards are all for true love & love at first sight. Point out one thing to a Twihard, and they can relate it to Twilight instantly. Savage and wild, they need every single thing to be perfect in the upcoming Twilight movie.

What about Sarah and Edgar in my new novel “From the Grave: The Prayer?”  Will there be “Gravers?”  Or “Prayerlights?”  Romance and unrequited love is in the air.

WC

“The Woman in Black” Trailer

www.whatdidtheysee.com

Click here for this website…How I love your new toys. What fun I can have.
The mysterious site invites users to take a look inside Eel Marsh House and discover the answer to “What did they see?” Visitors have only a partially obscured view, just enough to see through the doorway and into this young girl’s room. By using motion recognition with the computer’s webcam, visitors to the site can shift their perspective within the room by simply moving right & left in front of their own computer to see what lurks behind the door and in the shadows.

Pretty cool, eh? Give the site a look by clicking the link above. Meanwhile, THE WOMAN IN BLACK comes out on FEBRUARY 3, 2012.

And the trailer is great. Creepy. Just up my alley.

Produced by Talisman Films in association with Hammer Films! Gotta love Hammer Films. Made a few movies with them myself. But this looks creepy.

The story follows a young lawyer, Arthur Kipps (Radcliffe), who is ordered to travel to a remote village and sort out a recently deceased client’s papers. As he works alone in the client’s isolated house, Kipps begins to uncover tragic secrets, his unease growing when he glimpses a mysterious woman dressed only in black. Receiving only silence from the locals, Kipps is forced to uncover the true identity of the Woman in Black on his own, leading to a desperate race against time when he discovers her true intent.

What is her true intent? I love a good thriller! Always have, always will. I won’t keep a little thing like death keep me from enjoying my passions.

WC