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Thread: José Mojica Marins RIP (March 13, 1936 – February 19, 2020)

  1. #1

    José Mojica Marins RIP (March 13, 1936 – February 19, 2020)

    RIP José Mojica Marins (March 13, 1936 – February 19, 2020)

    The greatest South American horror filmmaker ever.

  2. #2
    Administrator Ian Jane's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2010
    Queens, NYC
    Ah damn it. I loved him way too much.
    Rock! Shock! Pop!

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    He died in São Paulo, of a bronchopneumonia.

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    Oh fuck no.
    "Ah! By god's balls what licentiousness!"

    Marquis de Sade, The 120 Days of Sodom.

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    One of the most singular filmmakers ever. I always felt his films were the real deal straight from his twisted mind to the screen without compromise.
    I'm bitter, I'm twisted, James Joyce is fucking my sister.

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    As we mourn the loss of the great Jose Mojica Marins, let’s remember when Jonathan Ross dressed up as Coffin Joe and the press didn’t have a clue who he was.

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    Girl Boss Jane Alison Jane's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2010
    Was his unibrow real?

  8. #8
    Truly a legend. RIP.

  9. #9
    MCMLXXX Matt H.'s Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2015
    Burlington, ON
    Why would anybody watch a scum show like Videodrome? Why did you watch it, Max?

  10. #10
    Spoon! Dom D's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2011
    Melbourne Australia
    A tribute from Pete Tombs posted on Mondo Macabros facebook page:

    "Sad to read today of the death of José Mojica Marins - Zé do Caixão (known in the English speaking world as “Coffin Joe”). I wrote about him in the Mondo Macabro book many years ago and, thanks to film maker and writer André Barcinski, I got to meet him at his home in São Paulo.

    Andy Starke and myself had travelled there to film interviews for our Channel 4 TV series in the early 2000s. São Paulo in itself was quite an experience but meeting Mojica was even more memorable. The night we arrived, late, we checked into the hotel and went out for something to eat. We were right in the center of the city and just went into the nearest open restaurant/bar where a loud band was playing; seasoned paulistanos will probably know the place, if it still exists. The first sight that greeted us was a huge painting of Zé do Caixão that filled one of the restaurant’s high walls. So, he really was an icon in his home town!

    Meeting him the next day was unreal. He was a kind of living legend and you don’t get to meet many of those. Without him being in any way pretentious, he lived up to that legend. Every question we asked got a full answer – and an always surprising one. I am sure he was a seasoned interviewee and had ready-made phrases to deliver, but he never seemed anything other than totally sincere and very modest about what, to me, were his astonishing achievements. We met one of his daughters (she played in a heavy metal band at the time) and later met one of his ex-wives.

    When we arrived to do the interview we’d noticed yet another mural of Mojica on the wall opposite his apartment block. We asked if it was OK to take a shot of him there and he kindly agreed, but warned us it might be difficult. Though this was a fairly quiet back street, within minutes passers-by were coming up to shake his hand. Even a guy driving a garbage truck stopped to greet him. This was someone out of the ordinary, I realised. Someone as unique and powerful as his films, someone people looked up to and respected. I remembered his attempt to enter politics many years before. He had stood for election in his home town, saying that he would represent those whom people use but nobody respects: gravediggers, prostitutes and garbage collectors.

    Many years later, Andy and myself were at the Sitges film festival when Embodiment of Evil premiered there. I asked if Mojica was going to appear but was told, no he was not able to make it but they would have someone present the film in character. Sure enough a tall figure in dark cloak, top hat and with extravagantly long nails swept onto the stage. I remember turning to Andy and saying: “my God they found someone who really does look like him.”

    After the film was over, our thoughts still crashing around in the strange world of Coffin Joe, we headed for the bar. It was late and we were in need of a drink. To my astonishment there he was – the real thing – dressed only slightly less extravagantly that he had been on stage. And to my even greater astonishment he recognised us, strode over and embraced me. Through his son, who was translating, he asked what I thought of the film. When I told him how powerful, fresh and vital we’d found it, he gave a broad smile and said: “If Mondo Macabro like it then I know I have done something good.”

    I have to confess that it brought tears to my eyes. As does remembering it today.

    I don’t like the word “genius”. So frequently used now it means almost nothing. But Mojica was in my eyes a genius in the real sense of the word: someone who has inspiration from beyond, from some kind of guiding spirit that sits on his shoulder and whispers into his ear secrets the rest of us will never know.

    People often say after someone has died: ‘we’ll never see his like again’. In this case that cliché is nothing but the truth."
    "Never let the fact that they are doing it wrong stop you from doing it right." Hyman Mandell.


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