For proof that Austin has been kept weird, slide your peepers over the 4-hour-long sci-fi scandal epic Ah My Goddess: Let’s Save Vic Morrow, entirely created by outer limit dweller Kevin Neece. Neece is so out there he is on the fringe of the fringe. The madness opens with the video footage of the on-set accident on Twilight Zone: The Movie that killed actor Vic Morrow and two small children. It then switches to Neece’s house in Austin, Texas (It’s actually his mother’s house, but he has his own room for lots of activities).
Inside is Urd from the anime series Ah My Goddess, along with her sister Skuld, who is the North Goddess of death in the form of a little girl. They have invited over Steven Spielberg, George Miller, and Joe Dante, the film directors who contributed sections of Twilight Zone: The Movie alongside John Landis, who directed the tragic segment. It is revealed to them that the goddess Hekate cursed the movie because Dan Aykroyd was cast in a cameo. Turns out Aykroyd is the Angel of Death, as every movie he appears in, a co-star has died.
“…the goddess Hekate cursed the movie because Dan Aykroyd was cast in a cameo. Turns out Aykroyd is the Angel of Death…”
Aykroyd arrives on the scene in a Doctor Who time-traveling Tardis, as he is also everyone’s favorite public access time lord. Some numerology is introduced, along with a demonology theory that Hekate curses all actors who appear in movies about the occult, with loads of free association examples. Urd, Skuld, and the Angel of Death inform the three directors that they are going to be forced to go back in time to 1982 to stop a coke-crazed Landis and save Vic Morrow. If they refuse, then their hearts will explode, so back in time they go. Also, every now and then, River Phoenix shows up to sing songs by Paul Williams.
One of the great weird traditions in Austin is the truly unhinged public access channels. For trippy visuals, Austin access would pick up where LSD left off. Ah My Goddess: Let’s Save Vic Morrow plays like an extended public access acid trip. The filmmaking vocabulary is minimalist, mostly involving frozen cut-outs of celebrity faces superimposed onto photo locations. Bombastic instrumental orchestration plays constantly in the background while various computer voices read the dialogue, which also appears as subtitles.
"…plays like an extended public access acid trip."
