The Teratology of 

Nashville’s Tattoo and Horror Convention

Part II: The Reckoning

 

The previous post discussed who to see at a Tattoo and Horror Convention; this post deals with what to see.  The shows at this year’s convention were phantasmagoric as all hell—a helter-skelter/hurdy-gurdy/rapid-fire collection of the fantastic. This is what I saw:

"Okay, not all of this.  But it looks impressive, doesn't it?"

 Costume Contest

This contest was predominately female and zombie. 

"THE look for Spring this year."

 

As the contestants took the stage, the announcer described each one: 

“We have a sexy undead farm girl! Don’t the maggots really bring out her eye sockets, folks? After that, a sexy undead Marie Antoinette—got that head back on straight, I see. Then a sexy undead cheerleader: Go Trojans! And then, Steve.” 

Steve was a man dressed in pigskins carrying a killing floor hammer. Steve was not a crowd favorite. 

Before the competition, I talked with one of the entrants: a sexy undead pin-up girl. She was wearing a black and white polka dot dress, high heels, hair in an updo and blood into which she had mixed red glitter. She looked like a lithe Betty Paige after a glamorous car crash. I asked her why she picked that costume. “It’s a real classic look that makes a woman feel sexy,” she replied.

I followed with, “What are you planning on doing with this?” She had a model’s face and million-watt charisma.

“Have fun,” she said and smiled.

For her, this event was a chance to look good on stage. The makeup, the prosthetics, the clothes—it was a runway show.  She was a starlet on the red carpet, just playing with a different set of paints. It takes effort, talent and love to look gorgeous. 

It just takes a little more to look drop dead gorgeous.

 Tattoo Contest

 

Also a female-skewed event.

"Better get this girl some medicine--'cause that octopus is SICK!"

 

Winning at the convention is good for the tattooist and tattoo-wearer—the latter receives a silver plaque that she (and it is often she) gives the former. Passing by the tattooist side of the hall, you can see tables covered with past awards. A tattoo done by an exceptional artist is magic: It grabs the eye and doesn’t let go.

I had to talk to the owner of the large color piece above: “What’s the reason behind the tattoo?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess ‘Because it’s fucking cool’ is not a really good reason… I think a large part of it was to cover up thigh fat.” 

Just then a tall woman with a lip piercing and full sleeves goosed her and said “Hey, if you can’t tone it, tattoo it, am I right?” The two slapped hands.

Drag King Show

The performance I saw started with a drag king in a white t-shirt cuffing a woman with a faux hawk to a metal folding chair. Then the drag king brought out a suitcase. This was where the show went Looney Tunes.

The drag king produced a short knife and a whip, with which he menaced the girl. The crowd was confused—a low grade BDSM scene was taking place onstage while non-descript pop-music played in the background.  My biggest concern was why the girl being threatened didn’t just pick up the metal chair to which she was cuffed and run away.

I have a high tolerance for weird, but this one threw me--it’s odd to see a crowd of zombies and tattooed bikers look on as a woman in a false beard threatens someone with a knife. 

I needed a beer after this exhibition.

 Film Festival

 

Movies played from 2-11 PM in room 108, which was empty throughout the afternoon except for the odd teenaged couple or a parent who wanted to take their child somewhere quiet to nap. I slipped in and out throughout the day, watching as much of a film as I could stand before heading back to the main hall. Keeper was the only film I watched in its entirety.

Keeper is a short film that describes the fate of four criminals who are guilty of the worst kinds of sin. In the middle of a night of torture and debauchery, an old man arrives at their dilapidated mansion, asking shelter from the rain. He brings with him judgment in the form a shadow-beast called "The Creature."

Keeper has excellent set design and an interesting concept—what really hamstrings it is budget. I talked with Chris St. Croix, the director, after the screening. Chris is a compact man and a fast talker, and I appreciate the passion and care he puts into his work. As a promotion, The Creature was placed outside the screening room: It’s a 12-foot tall figure in black robes. As we were talking, Chris noticed robes at the bottom of the Creature pulling away from the stilts that give the monster its height. Gently, like a mother wiping her son’s nose, he reattached the robes and continued speaking with me. That small moment speaks volumes—this is a labor of love.

I recommend Keeper; not for what it is, but for what it could be. The film needs the background of the monster expanded and the writing tightened.  Also, the Creature is a great practical effect, but we see too much of it too often. Less is more—suggest the Creature and we’ll fill in the rest.  

Make those changes, and this could be a great little film.

Keeper is a part of the upcoming horror anthology In the Dark. Give it a look.

"Click here for horror."

Conclusion

It was 10:00 PM, and the convention was closing up. Vendors packing it in; tattooists putting inks away. It was time to go.

Good night, girls with cat ears. 

Good night, anime-people waltzing to dubstep. Good night, gray-haired man with a full body tattoo. Good night, convention hall funk. Good night, crowd of people smoking outside the building. Good night, row of motor cycles.

One of the motorcycles was a piece of art: a brilliant bone white chopper under-lit with a neon blue glow. The license plate read "Dr. Show." A muscular black man wearing a wool sweater vest and a bowtie started it and growled off. As I was biking home, I saw him idling at a red light: “Sweet ride, man!”

“Thanks, son.” The light flashed green and Dr. Show was lost in the night.

Dr. Show is the essence of this convention—fierce individualism. The Tattoo and Horror Convention is an annual meeting of people who say, “This is who I am—this is what I like.” Every year, it’s equal parts strange, beautiful and bizarre.

I hope it stays running for another ten years. 

Ten times ten years.