Friday, October 1, 2021

Review: 'Yours Cruelly, Elvira'

Struggling actress/improv comedian/showgirl/monster kid Cassandra Peterson wrapped up all her skills and loves into a single package when she got the chance to become the new Vampira for an L.A. TV station in 1981. Thus was born entertainment juggernaut Elvira, infamous for her sexiness, sassiness, dagger wit, and self-assuredness. 

The woman behind the wig is just as sexy and witty as her iconic character, but she wasn't always completely self-assured, which is what makes Yours Cruelly, Elvira a very unexpected autobiography. Peterson's life was hardly as smooth as one of Elvira's effortless one-liners. Alcoholism and drug-addiction ran in her family. Because Peterson made a career of showing as much skin as possible, it is rather shocking to learn that she suffered serious burns as a toddler that scarred a large percentage of her skin for life. Her mother was often cruel and ridiculed young Cassandra's appearance. 

Yet, Peterson launched her career on her appearance as a go-go dancer and Vegas showgirl in the sixties, and her stunning beauty drew all sorts of unwanted attention. She devotes a chapter to all the close brushes with sexual assault she experienced starting when she was a young child. A huge rock and roll fan, she chased bands when she was a young teen as innocently as possible. Yet she had unsettling encounters with Eric Burdon and Jimmy Page and escaped assault by thinking quick. Despite being known as a groupie during her pre-Elvira years, Peterson remained a virgin through her teen years. She was less fortunate during a nightmarish encounter with basketball superstar Wilt Chamberlain, a man she considered a friend, who raped her at one of his parties. During her stint in Vegas, the likes of Frank Sinatra, Paul Anka, and Andy-fucking-Williams were all total creeps to her.

Things get less horrid for Cassandra Peterson when she gets that horror host audition, and her transcription of her improvised audition makes it clear that the character hit the ground fully formed. Peterson's troubles don't end there, but they're at least less gross. Annoyed that Peterson got the Vampira Jr. gig instead of her preferred choice (Lola Falana), original Vampira Maila Nurmi begins harassing Peterson, starting with a call from her attorney that necessitates the name change to Elvira. Peterson also had problems with the Coors company, Lorne Michaels, a mean-spirited husband, and ghosts. Her eight-year-old niece rescued her from being drowned by a dog. She made a farcical attempt to euthanize an injured pigeon. 

Considering all she experienced, it is amazing that Peterson is so well-adjusted. Even when writing about the worst of times, and explaining how difficult it was to go public about such things for the first time, she seems to have made peace with her life and maintains her wit and charm. That's a relief, because Cassandra Peterson is clearly a damn good person. She used her fame to bring attention to such vital causes as animal rights and the AIDS crisis. She is incredibly brave for writing the book she wrote. And if I didn't already love her for creating such a great character, for being so kind and humble and funny, and for being a fellow rock and roll and horror freak, I'd love her if all she ever did was spit in Frank Sinatra's hat. Because she totally did that.


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