really,’ Grant said, ‘but not without small moments. The saddest thing about it is that you can see these very short, very brief sights of Hosterlitz’s talent shining through, but most of the rest of it is borderline unwatchable.’
‘Do you know much about them as a couple?’ I asked.
‘Hosterlitz and Lynda Korin?’
He looked out at the auditorium, thinking. The architect was on the opposite side of the room, using his tape measure at the stage and scribbling the measurements on to a notepad.
‘Not much,’ Grant said. ‘However, I did meet Korin at a convention a few years back.’
‘Was that Screenmageddon?’
‘ Ja ,’ Grant said. ‘That’s the one.’
I remembered Collinsky mentioning the same event. He’d told me that it had been the first time he’d met Korin, and that she’d given him her card.
‘It’s a sci-fi, horror and fantasy thing – you know, paradise for geeks like me.’ He smiled and got out his phone again, searching for something. ‘Anyway,’ he went on, continuing to search, ‘it’s massive – like, 200,000 visitors – and they have some big guests there, but they have tons of minor ones too; the sort of people who were in the cockpit of an X-Wing for five seconds in the original Star Wars .’ He stopped searching and handed me the phone. ‘They always have this European horror section as well. That was where I met her.’
I looked at his phone.
It was a photograph of Lynda Korin sitting at a table, a few copies of the original Ursula fanning out from her elbow in an arc.
‘What was she like?’ I asked.
‘She was really lovely, actually, but she seemed a bit overwhelmed by the whole convention thing. She told me she’d never done anything like it before and said that she agreed to do it because she thought it might be fun, and because she was surprised anyone still remembered her. This was – what? – 2011. In truth, I hadn’t seen any of her films, even Ursula. I just knew about her because she was married to Robert Hosterlitz. That was why I wanted to talk to her.’
‘So did you two talk about Hosterlitz?’
‘Oh, man. I can’t remember exactly. Probably, ja . I imagine I told her I was a huge fan of her husband’s work. I couldn’t, in all good faith, tell her that I loved the Ursula trilogy, or pretend to her that they were “cult” films.’
‘What about “Ring of Roses”? Have you ever come across this idea that Hosterlitz may have been working on something towards the end of his life?’
But Grant was already shaking his head.
‘Honestly?’ he said. ‘No. Never. I find the idea hugely exciting, but, when Marc Collinsky originally phoned me, I went through both our physical archives here, and digitally searched the AKI master vault in LA, and it’s just a dead end.’
Grant took a long breath, the sweat at his brow reflecting the dull yellow glow from the auditorium’s lamps. We both watched the architect for a moment, the metallic snap of his tape measure carrying across the room to us.
‘The fact is,’ Grant said, ‘if Hosterlitz was working on something at the end of his life, I think it’s highly likely that he didn’t tell anyone the full story.’
15
Rough Print, the shop that Louis Grant suggested might have some hard-to-find copies of Lynda Korin’s horror movies, was already closed for the day by the time I got there. It was frustrating because I’d planned to head back to Somerset first thing in the morning to take a look at Korin’s house, and didn’t want to have to make a detour into central London again. All I could do was give them a call as soon as they opened and see if it was worth a return journey.
There was better news from Marc Collinsky, though: he’d emailed through the audio files for both interviews he’d done with Korin. On the tube back to Ealing, I plugged in my headphones and began listening to the first one.
As Collinsky had suggested, Korin was a good interviewee. Forthright and
‘Do you know much about them as a couple?’ I asked.
‘Hosterlitz and Lynda Korin?’
He looked out at the auditorium, thinking. The architect was on the opposite side of the room, using his tape measure at the stage and scribbling the measurements on to a notepad.
‘Not much,’ Grant said. ‘However, I did meet Korin at a convention a few years back.’
‘Was that Screenmageddon?’
‘ Ja ,’ Grant said. ‘That’s the one.’
I remembered Collinsky mentioning the same event. He’d told me that it had been the first time he’d met Korin, and that she’d given him her card.
‘It’s a sci-fi, horror and fantasy thing – you know, paradise for geeks like me.’ He smiled and got out his phone again, searching for something. ‘Anyway,’ he went on, continuing to search, ‘it’s massive – like, 200,000 visitors – and they have some big guests there, but they have tons of minor ones too; the sort of people who were in the cockpit of an X-Wing for five seconds in the original Star Wars .’ He stopped searching and handed me the phone. ‘They always have this European horror section as well. That was where I met her.’
I looked at his phone.
It was a photograph of Lynda Korin sitting at a table, a few copies of the original Ursula fanning out from her elbow in an arc.
‘What was she like?’ I asked.
‘She was really lovely, actually, but she seemed a bit overwhelmed by the whole convention thing. She told me she’d never done anything like it before and said that she agreed to do it because she thought it might be fun, and because she was surprised anyone still remembered her. This was – what? – 2011. In truth, I hadn’t seen any of her films, even Ursula. I just knew about her because she was married to Robert Hosterlitz. That was why I wanted to talk to her.’
‘So did you two talk about Hosterlitz?’
‘Oh, man. I can’t remember exactly. Probably, ja . I imagine I told her I was a huge fan of her husband’s work. I couldn’t, in all good faith, tell her that I loved the Ursula trilogy, or pretend to her that they were “cult” films.’
‘What about “Ring of Roses”? Have you ever come across this idea that Hosterlitz may have been working on something towards the end of his life?’
But Grant was already shaking his head.
‘Honestly?’ he said. ‘No. Never. I find the idea hugely exciting, but, when Marc Collinsky originally phoned me, I went through both our physical archives here, and digitally searched the AKI master vault in LA, and it’s just a dead end.’
Grant took a long breath, the sweat at his brow reflecting the dull yellow glow from the auditorium’s lamps. We both watched the architect for a moment, the metallic snap of his tape measure carrying across the room to us.
‘The fact is,’ Grant said, ‘if Hosterlitz was working on something at the end of his life, I think it’s highly likely that he didn’t tell anyone the full story.’
15
Rough Print, the shop that Louis Grant suggested might have some hard-to-find copies of Lynda Korin’s horror movies, was already closed for the day by the time I got there. It was frustrating because I’d planned to head back to Somerset first thing in the morning to take a look at Korin’s house, and didn’t want to have to make a detour into central London again. All I could do was give them a call as soon as they opened and see if it was worth a return journey.
There was better news from Marc Collinsky, though: he’d emailed through the audio files for both interviews he’d done with Korin. On the tube back to Ealing, I plugged in my headphones and began listening to the first one.
As Collinsky had suggested, Korin was a good interviewee. Forthright and
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