By Blair Jackson
From the opening scene — a pathetic re-enactment of a supposedly “real” 911 call — “The Devil Inside” flops in a big way. Under the pretenses of being filmed as a documentary, this movie lacks both the plot and cinematography of the horror films from which it has drawn inspiration.

Though used before 1999, the handheld camera technique exploded onto the horror scene with “The Blair Witch Project.” Presented as a recovered documentary, the shaky camera, night-vision shots and a disorienting setting, “The Blair Witch Project” came together to create a terrifying cinematic experience. With a pinch of good acting — who doesn’t remember the snot drizzle of terror? — it became a classic horror film.

The shaky cam made another appearance almost 10 years later in “Cloverfield,” which offered audiences a mysterious, action-laden plot unfolding around a boy-girl story. Presently, the “Paranormal Activity” saga is making a boatload of cash on the simple cinematography and increasingly kooky plot following the haunting and demonic possession of an ordinary Jane.

The shaky cam technique was just one of many misses in “The Devil Inside” because it failed to establish a realistic setting. The purpose of this technique in horror films is to lure the audience into a familiar, everyday setting — a camping trip, a New Year’s Eve party or your home — only to drop a paranormal bomb on your sense of reality.

Why would a woman bring a camera along to document the possession and exorcism of her mother who killed three people? Far-fetched, I know, and it gets increasingly convoluted. I am going to go ahead and give you a spoiler alert, although nothing could actually spoil this already rotten movie.

About 20 years after her mother kills three people during an exorcism, the main character, Isabella Rossi (Fernanda Andrade), goes on a quest to reunite with her mother, who was mysteriously taken to Rome and placed in a psychiatric facility.
The reasoning behind her desire to meet her mother again is skimmed over, and the film ultimately presents an oversimplified I-just-need-to-know-and-I-need-to-know-now explanation, instead of delving into the psychological ramifications of either being the daughter of a woman who suffers from severe mental illness or demonic possession.

It turns out the Catholic Church has a school for exorcism, so Isabella and her cameraman crash the class, which is located somewhere in the Vatican City, and viewers are introduced to the two other supporting characters and arguments surrounding the legitimacy of possession.

When Isabella meets her insane mother, Maria Rossi (played by Suzan Crowley), the elder Rossi displays a variety of typical possessed routines such as talking in different accents, cutting upside down crosses into her skin and screaming like a banshee. At times, Crowley’s acting borders on hilarious, but even then doesn’t quite enter the realm of bad, which makes it painfully mediocre to watch.

Isabella recruits two of the priests she met at Exorcism 101, Ben (Simon Quarterman) and David (Evan Helmuth), to help her evaluate her mother. It is then revealed that these two renegades are performing exorcisms as a side project, aiding those rejected by the Catholic Church who have fallen through “cracks in the system.” Here lies the original hook of the story: These are unauthorized exorcisms, done outside of the Catholic Church’s jurisdiction in a kind of back-alley, vigilante undertaking.

Filmmaker Michael and Isabella tag along for an exorcism. (Y’know, just to make sure it’s legit.) I’ll spare you the play-by-play, but you can expect contortion, crawling up the walls, blood spatters and vaginal bleeding — nothing new to anyone who has watched “The Exorcist” or “The Exorcism of Emily Rose.” If you haven’t seen these movies, by the way, go rent both of them instead of watching “The Devil Inside.”

The priests’ rejection and disapproval of the Catholic Church is possibly the most unrealistic aspect of the film. The idea that Catholic priests would record exorcisms not only in blatant contradiction to the Church but also as a means of protest, serves only as a plot device to make sense of the idea that audiences are witnessing an actual exorcism.

Jason Miller’s performance as Father Karras in “The Exorcist” is a balanced, intriguing portrayal of a man of God faced with human failings and doubt. “The Exorcist” captures the heat of that battle, while “The Devil Inside” tunes in after the battle has been lost.

Who lost the battle is up for debate because the movie ends as a cliffhanger in one of the most unresolved scenes in movie history.

I’m guessing the devil wins because David shoots himself, Isabella cuts someone’s throat, and Michael is enchanted (by Isabella’s command) to commit suicide while driving Isabella and Ben to a priest’s house.

Ha, I ruined it!
Now you don’t have to waste your money to go see it.
But I don’t feel bad, considering moviegoers across the nation are asking themselves, “Really? That’s it?” at the end of each showing of “The Devil Inside.”
Yes, please. Let that be it.
No sequel is needed. In fact, what possessed these people to make this movie in the first place?

“ABBEY OF THE LEMUR” PRODUCER C.F. ROBERTS PROVIDES AN IN-DEPTH LOOK AT THE INSPIRATION BEHIND THE CONTROVERSY.

What inspired you to create your show?

It was kind of a long process with a long gestation period. It was my roommate at the time (Andrew “Panda” Lucariello) who suggested we go down to the Access Station. I never thought of ever doing television (side note: Today I work in television professionally). We were hanging around watching a lot of movies at the time — everything from Silent Expressionism to avant garde indie stuff to low-budget gore; and I think he was keen on being a filmmaker.

We went into it without any concrete idea of what we wanted to do. I’d seen a lot of the local access shows at the time (this was ’96). There were a ton of talk shows, some religious shows and the one I remember most was a music-and-poetry show called “Pondering the Muse”. I liked that show a lot and any number of friends had been on that show. Some of whom went on to be frequent flyers on “Abbey”.     

 We started taking out cameras on the weekend and probably ran around for 6 months randomly shooting stuff before anything resembling a “show” began to materialize. If you asked me what I wanted to do back then I would have told you something open-ended, like “Dada”.

We ran all over the place. We drove up and down 540 shooting footage of roadkill. We’d invite friends over and get loaded and whatever happened wound up on camera. We’d go shoot a band at a house party. We’d run up to an industrial chickenhouse and shoot what was going on in there.

All of this non-specific video searching eventually came together in kind of a crude goulash that was built loosely around the framework backstory that we were some kind of demented cult, trying to convert and/or “deprogram” the viewer.  A lot of what fell into our filter at the time was pretty much white trash, working class culture — a lot of frustration because we were creative people stuck in hellish jobs — various counter cultural concerns that would run the gamut between punk attitude, experimental psychedelia, surrealism and stupid, lowbrow humor.

Underground filmmakers like John Waters were big heroes for us. I had published an underground literary zine for about 5 or 6 years. For me it was just a process of taking what I was doing with my mag and turning it into a television show.

What inspires you to push the limits of tradition?

A lot of it is just our artistic DNA. For me a lot of that IS my tradition. I can look back across a hundred years of art and culture and cite examples — Antonin Artaud is part of my tradition. Marcel DuChamp is a part of my tradition. William Burroughs is part of my tradition — Waters, as previously mentioned — the Panic Movement, the Situationists, the Sex Pistols, the Marx Brothers — maybe those are disparate influences but there’s a thread, or a common aesthetic, and I see that as my tradition.    

That’s a very confrontational, irreverent kind of tradition to follow in, and ‘x’ number of people are probably not going to like it. When we got involved with Public Access, we started watching a lot of it and most of it was, to one degree or another, very staid and respectable. There’s nothing wrong with that, and I applaud anyone who goes down there and makes a show. When we began playing with the editing equipment, (which, at the time, was the old Amiga Toaster system) we were jazzed by the potential we saw. Our thoughts were, look at all these bells and whistles. No one’s really using any of this to its full capacity, and so it became very important for us to explore, to push the technology we were given as hard and as far as we could to see what we could come up with just to put something pure and different on the screen that no one had really seen before.

What is your goal?

“Goal” — that’s a tough one — it’s always been very difficult for us to answer questions like “what is your goal” or “what is your message” because you’re dealing with a show that’s been around for 14 years through shifting casts and ideas and landscapes; and we’ve all gone through big life changes over the course of the show’s run. Ostensibly we want to entertain and provoke and (hopefully) make people think.

We’ve used the show as a vehicle to make people laugh, to scare people, to thumb our noses at the status quo, to showcase local bands and poets and to express our feelings about politics. For me — one guy who has been doing this show for 14 years —I could say that a goal of mine, as a working class artist, is to create art and entertainment on my own terms and maybe inject some healthy subversion into people’s lives.

How do you feel about PA in association with your 1st Amendment rights?

Access has largely been a great forum over the years — it’s defended me and I’ve defended it. It goes through weak periods and strong periods but it’s always been a good forum. When you become involved in public access you find yourself part of a larger continuum of activists and advocates and you can all find a common bond in that.

Have those rights ever been challenged?

They certainly have! Glossing over various angry phone calls or minor complaints there have been a few noteworthy controversies. One person wrote in 2003 that no one had ever really used the Access Complaint process before, but that was actually incorrect. Some parties brought an official complaint against us in 1998, when we used a pig’s head as a prop. This went beyond just the Access Provider. The complaint went all the way to the Cable Board (now the Telecom Board), and we were actually unaware of the complaint until a member of the Cable Board approached us personally and asked us for a copy of the tape.      

We were vindicated, as per usual, through use of the Miller Test.  As a music fan and a writer/publisher on the zine scene, the idea of first amendment controversies and writers, artists & musicians being harassed and prosecuted for their art (via censorship or culture war) were always  very big hot button issues for me.

If people were going to be taking me down that path they were going to get a tooth-and-nail fight. I made a point of becoming very conversant in the Miller Test and SLAPS values. One thing people have tried to hang us with over the years has been the idea that the show has no meaning, value or merit. I can defend anything we’ve done on the basis of Serious Literary, Artistic, Political and/or Scientific value and I’ve done my homework: it goes into everything I do. The BIGGEST challenge happened in 2003 when we did a two hour live show that was very raunchy and over-the-top.

One individual made a formal obscenity complaint: that’s a charge of legal obscenity. We were later told that some people in the city administration were behind the complaint.* The Government itself can’t try to censor an access show directly (without getting sued) but a civilian can complain.

They had a few of their buddies in the newspapers write some well-timed hack jobs to give the Access Provider bad press, and it was very transparent and stupid. We defended the show on the basis of the Miller Test and we beat the rap easily. For a while people kept calling in with obviously orchestrated attempts to shut us down. People called the station asking for copies of the Miller Obscenity Test so they could determine for themselves whether we were breaking the law with our shows. Again, very transparent and ill-considered.  A friend and fellow Access Producer (also an erstwhile member of the Lemur Cast) created a spinoff show whose entire purpose was to satirize the people who had gone after us.

I guess it hit a little too close to home. A friend of mine who worked for the city told me one of his higher-ups had vowed to criminally prosecute any controversial show on the channel. In a matter of weeks it all came to pass. My friend’s show was seized by the police in a criminal investigation for obscenity. A high-ranking city official came down to the CAT Board of directors meeting to discuss the show, but we were on it like white on rice. Four or five of us showed up at the meeting prepared to argue point and defend the show.

Our opponent from the city showed up with his friend, the guy who had complained about the “Abbey” live show. Rather than discuss the matter with us, they turned tail and ran like scared rabbits. The City Prosecutor viewed my friend’s show and declared that it was “not obscene — just stupid.” The usual lambasts from the newspapers happened, but that was the last big controversy, and that was early 2004.      

There have been a few minor dust-ups since then but I like to think we pretty much ended any hopes the Censorship Crowd had at that time. I think the running impression was that we were knuckle-dragging idiots who did this vulgar kind of programming because we weren’t capable of doing anything else; and none of them were ready for it when we were actually making articulate arguments against their charges.

What does the title of the show “Abbey of the Lemur” mean?

It’s a pun based on misunderstood song lyrics.

In her office, Director of Fayetteville Public Access Television Anne Shelley reads from a poster:

“The purpose of Public Access Television in Fayetteville is to provide training for residents of Fayetteville in the techniques of video production for Public Access Television and to provide an opportunity for residents of Fayetteville to provide programming in a first-come, first-served, content-neutral, nondiscriminatory manner, in accordance with the First Amendment.”

“I think it’s a beautiful statement,” she says. “Our purpose is to teach people how to make TV and help them make shows and express their First Amendment rights. This kind of access — regardless of race, gender or income — is a powerful tool. It is a precious gift in which I believe strongly.”

Shelley joined the Public Access team in 2011, when Fayetteville city government contracted Your Media, a nonprofit organization, to oversee the day-to-day operations of Fayetteville Public Access.

Within the past year, Fayetteville Public Access has made self-produced television even more accessible by making it free. The nonprofit organization eliminated the $25 fee for production classes, increased the number of classes held and varied class times to accommodate a wider range of schedules. The programs can be seen on channel 218 on Cox Communications and on channel 99 on AT&T.

“(Public Access) went from one class a week to at least six classes a week. We have trained so many more people,” Shelley said.

“We heightened our efforts to become a first-class training facility for Fayetteville residents,” reads the 2011 Provider’s Report for the telecom board, compiled by Fayetteville Public Access. In comparison with 2010, Fayetteville Public Access offered 490 percent more classes and workshops to the public, which resulted in 407 percent more Candidate Producers. “With a greater number of new producers, we hope to see more programming. The more people we educate, the more shows we have,” explains Shelley.

After taking the necessary classes in video production, residents can check out field cameras to take on location. Shelley says users can “film events or anything important in your life.” In accordance with the Public Access guidelines, the only restriction against content is that it cannot be for commercial use.

Becoming a producer takes at least seven hours of training. Once a resident has completed the

Courtesy Photo: Once reaching the status of "Candidate Producer," residents are able to check-out state of the art production equipment to use in the field.

necessary coursework — orientation, a field production class and an editing class — the student is considered a Candidate Producer and is allowed to check out the equipment needed to create their first program. There is also a studio production class that must be completed for residents who prefer to film in the Public Access Studio.

Lindsley Smith, who is an aspiring Public Access producer, served as a state representative for three years and is currently the communications director for the city of Fayetteville. She is working on producing a program that would promulgate the message of women in government office.

“When I served in the state legislature, I read a lot of books in preparation, and they were very masculine,” Smith said. Her concern over the absence of a feminine perspective in politics was amplified when a friend’s daughter asked the question, “Can a woman be president?”

Smith has yet to title her program or plan any segments, but it is the type of creative endeavor that could be part of the diverse 2012 programming that Shelley anticipates as a byproduct of the past year’s heightened commitment to education.

Staff Photo by Blair Jackson: Teah Flynn, a Farmington high school student, edits her Public Acess show, "My Kid's Point of View."

Fourteen-year-old Teah Flynn is the youngest producer at Public Access Television. Her involvement in self-produced television began at the age of 10, when she co-created an awareness video about the dangers of drinking and driving.

Teah’s ambition is fueled by personal tragedy: her mother was killed in an accident caused by a drunken driver. The awareness video is now used by MAAD and the local police department. The video gained enough attention to land Teah face time on the local news.
Witnessing the impact of televised media has encouraged the Farmington High School student to continue producing films on community topics to raise awareness.

Teah, who began working with Public Access at the beginning of 2011, is now producing the series, “My Kid’s Point of View,” which discusses mature issues from a teen’s perspective. She has produced a segment on the dangers of texting and driving and is in the process of editing a segment on the theory of a DNA criminal database.

For now, Teah says, film production is just a hobby. Her plans are to be an actress or a model, and she says being in the spotlight helps her feel confident that she can achieve her goals and land auditions. “Seeing myself on camera is fun. To see this on TV and YouTube, it makes me feel so accomplished, and it’s not even close to where I might be later on.”

At the other end of the spectrum, Roger Henry and Dan Vega have been producing television for 19

Courtesy Photo: Dan Vega and Roger Henry have been producing their show "One Whirled View" for almost 20 years.

years, and are edging up to the 500th show mark. “One Whirled View,” which airs every other week, is what Henry describes as “a little known Colbert or Jon Stewart.”

The show evolved from Henry and Vega’s kitchen table discussions over news clippings, during which the two would drink beer, while joking and talking about the implications of current events.

“We take awful news, scary news, and laugh about it because we don’t know how to deal with it,” says Henry. The duo also uses a lighthearted approach to capture the ear of those who may oppose their views.

Though controversy has been rare over the years, Henry and Vega received a nasty letter from the president of the Fayetteville Chamber of Commerce in 1995 in response to Vega’s decision to cross-dress on-air.

In a segment concerning estrogenic chemicals being injected into food, Vega wore women’s lingerie, tights, and pulled his hair into pigtails. The letter threatened to get the city council involved with the intention of shutting down the entire Public Access operation.
In response, Vega and Henry dressed in suits during their next show and made lewd references to the definition of commerce in the context of “intercourse.” They joked, saying that even in suits there was no way to tell if a man was wearing lingerie underneath. The controversy put the show on the map, and the humor dissolved the tension between the city and the show.

“We try to deflect controversy with humor,” explains Vega. “We use levity toencourage people to listen. If we get too serious, (the audience) will shut it out.”

For residents who would like to produce television with mature content, there are “after dark” slots for adult programming. The most infamous of these programs is the longstanding “Abbey of the Lemur,” a show that for years has tested the boundaries of art and expression in dark, psychedelic and raunchy ways. On their MySpace page, you can view the members of the cast being spanked, toying with a severed pig head, spouting reflective monologues and even reciting poetry.

Shelley says that all complaints submitted to Public Access are taken seriously and reported to the telecommunications board.

“I don’t think you can have Public Access without having people having issues with artistic expressions, beliefs or ideas,” says Shelley. She notes that there have been no major controversies in her year as director or in recent years.

Staff Photo By Blair Jackson: Anne Shelley, Director of Public Access Television in Fayettevill, operates a camera during the Lion's Club auction which was broadcasted live last week.

In addition to being a platform for residents to express their first amendment rights, Fayetteville Public Access and Your Media are available to provide production services to nonprofit organizations. An example of this service is the Lion’s Club annual telethon which aired last week.

Those who wish to enlist the services of the Public Access studio are subject to a competitive market rate, which is an average of the market value. Your Media can provide out-of-studio production at a reduced cost for service-oriented projects.

Last month the city council voted to renew Your Media’s contract as overseer of the Fayetteville Public Access network. Councilman Matthew Petty said it was the right decision to rehire the organization, calling the organization “phenomenal.” He continued, saying, “I’ve been very impressed with the leadership there.”

J.R. Curtis, the director of education for Fayetteville Public Access, says the greatest achievement of the past year has been reaching a wider audience, not in terms of viewers, but in terms of students and producers. “A lot of people don’t realize how different it is,” he says.

“It’s a great part of Fayetteville that not a lot of people know about,” says Shelley. “When people find out about it, they’re really excited.”

For class schedules and more information, visit faypublic.tv.