Fear fine faux fun

SHERWOOD KIRALY

There’s faux fright, and then there’s actual fright.

In 1968 I jumped in my seat along with everyone else in the movie

theater when Alan Arkin leapt out at blind Audrey Hepburn in “Wait

Until Dark,” the first great instance of the Dead Villain Who Rises

Again.

By 1978 the dead villain could rise again endlessly and proved it

in the original “Halloween.” I thought I was too sophisticated to get

rattled at a movie, but when I got home after seeing that one I

looked in the closet and under the bed.

Then in 1993 I got a taste of actual fright, when I stood on a

hill off El Toro Road, overlooking the canyon, and saw the beginnings

of the Laguna fire blow toward town. Later I drove toward that big

ugly smoke cloud to get Katie out of preschool ... and later still

called home to see if the phone had melted. Finally at 4 a.m. I

returned home to find the house intact and the entire neighborhood

covered with ash. I’m still amazed that the firefighters saved so

much.

It is now the 10th anniversary of the Laguna fire and the 25th

anniversary of “Halloween.” And as we look forward to Halloween the

holiday, we natives are reminded that faux fear is a lot more fun

than the real thing.

This Halloween, Patti Jo will impersonate Sister Wendy, the

beloved public television art critic, and to this end she wears a

nun’s habit. She’s quite good at this impersonation, quite dedicated

to accuracy; her attitude seems to be that the chemistry of our

marriage can withstand anything.

Katie will be Harpo Marx, which means she can trick-or-treat

without having to speak to anyone.

Booker, our puppy, will get his first taste of the Superdog cape.

I’m not going to be anybody -- my acting has always been too

understated for Halloween. Back in ’68 I was so taken with Alan

Arkin’s performance that I went around for days talking like an oily

psychopath and nobody even noticed the difference.

For the most part I’ll be home as usual, handing out candy and

watching an old movie on TV. Karloff, Lugosi, Lorre ... those guys

aren’t scary; they’re pals. Scary is sniffing the air on a windy

afternoon and looking in the sky for the wrong kind of cloud. Gimme

Clu Gulager in “Return of the Living Dead” any day.