A True Artiste: Lloyd Kaufman on His Career and His Final Film | Interviews
And “Big Gus, What’s the Fuss”?
Yes, I would love it if people didn't watch that. Troma people keep putting it up on YouTube though. They also love to see this video where I get beaten up on “The Morton Downey Jr. Show.” They love that one. But okay, we made a very bad movie called “Big Gus, What’s the Fuss?” when we were very young. We listened to people older than me, some of whom were not telling the exact truth. I should have had the guts to close that production down. That's what I should have done. We shot it in Israel and when I got to Israel, they’d totally changed the script. It was a mess and we should have just shut it down. Nothing is worse than “Big Gus, What’s the Fuss?” James Gunn and I had fun writing about it in my first book, All I Need to Know About Filmmaking I Learned From The Toxic Avenger.
The Tempest concludes with Prospero returning to civilization and encouraging his daughter Miranda and her partner to have a life of their own. Can you imagine giving the keys to the Troma kingdom—or perhaps a ceremonial mop—to your own daughters?
That’s a curse! They don't have to take that on unless they really want to. My oldest is a writer and my youngest is a filmmaker. The middle one is not involved with filmmaking, although she has a good job for Amazon. I heard they do something with movies. But she’s in mentoring, something to do with startups. A terrific, terrific job, very creative, very interesting. The youngest one, Charlotte, played the mute child in “Terror Firmer.” She's working with the guy who made “The Jinx” for HBO, which is probably an exciting position. And my oldest daughter directed a little web series, the first piece of which will play at the Museum of the Moving Image prior to “Shakespeare’s Sh*storm.” That was shot by the same first cameraman as “Shakespeare’s Sh*tstorm,” too.
That’s exciting. To wrap things up, I wanted to ask: do you really get confused for Mel Brooks?
All the time. I can't walk through an airport without some kid—like 22 years old, 25, 30—telling me: ‘My father is a big fan of yours, can I get a picture??’ So I think: Well, you know, I've been around for 50 years, so maybe their father is a big fan of me, Lloyd Kaufman. But then as they talk, I realize: Oh, they think I’m Mel Brooks. Then I don't know whether to let 'em take the picture or to tell them I'm another guy. I usually let 'em take the picture because they never mention Mel Brooks by name. I had a situation in New York where people were actually lining up to get photos of me, thinking I was Mel Brooks. I drink a lot and went into a bar at 10am. One person thought I was Mel Brooks, so suddenly, there was a line in the bar. A policeman wanted me to hold his badge and take a picture for him. I did and then I ran back to the Troma booth at a nearby convention. That happens all the time.
