This is an updated version of a review that was originally published in Bleeding Skull! A 1990s Trash-Horror Odyssey.
“What’s it feel like to be in a Rocky Nelson movie?”
That’s the question David “The Rock” Nelson asks brothers Ted, Henry, and Conrad Brooks during the 30-minute on-camcorder interview that kicks off this tape. It was a special moment for Nelson, the self-proclaimed “Ed Wood of the 1990s and beyond,” because Conrad appeared in Wood’s Glen or Glenda and Plan 9 from Outer Space, among others. For the first time, Nelson had traveled outside of his home base in Des Plaines, Illinois, to make a movie with bona fide Hollywood veterans. He was legit! After Nelson asks the question, Henry and Conrad look at each other.
Then they stare off into space.
This moment couldn’t have been more perfect. Just like Conrad Brooks vs. the Werewolf.
There’s a werewolf (Nelson in a rubber mask) on the loose in Baltimore! And only the Brooks brothers can stop him! What this means is that we get to watch three senior citizens visit various pubs while Nelson climbs on statues. Eventually, the werewolf viciously attacks Ted and Henry. When Henry falls down, he says, “Ohhhhhh, man!” So, it’s up to Conrad and his plastic Uzi (“This gun don’t have no effect!”) to take down the werewolf in a decrepit cemetery. The movie climaxes with an eight-minute scene of Conrad repeatedly rolling over the werewolf with his Hyundai Excel. He yells out the window, “This is for my buddy, Edward A. Wood, Jr.!”
Conrad meant to say “Edward D. Wood, Jr.” but that’s all part of the magic.
Conrad Brooks vs. the Werewolf is a milestone in David “The Rock” Nelson’s career. It’s also the most magical movie ever made in 1994. This is a cascade of madness, a delirious—and hilarious—testament to the creative spirit. Nelson frequently bumps into the camera. Henry is put through physical rigors that an 84-year-old man shouldn’t have to deal with. There are constant meta-references to Ed Wood, Tor Johnson, and Nelson himself. Rainbow dubbing lines abruptly cut through scenes, and Conrad’s stream-of-consciousness ad-libbing gets more bizarre as time goes on (“Take a little more of that back ’n’ forth action, werewolf!”). This movie feels like a 45-minute luncheon between a 10-year-old and a dementia patient. It’s pure and it’s real. There’s nothing else like it.
David “The Rock” Nelson’s movies would get much longer and more personal in the 2000s—The Pumpkinman Saga from 2004 is a two-hour movie that features more footage of Nelson eating than chasing monsters. But Conrad Brooks vs. the Werewolf is Nelson in his purest form. This is a grown adult who, after serving in the Marine Corps and becoming a Golden Gloves boxer, decided to reject everyone else’s reality, put on a monster mask, and dedicate the rest of his life to doing what he loves: making horror movies in his backyard. The spirit of adventure and outrageousness that flows through this tape will stick with me forever.
At 1 a.m. on a Tuesday, David “The Rock” Nelson called me. We hadn’t exchanged numbers, but mine was printed on the check I had sent him for VHS copies of Conrad Brooks vs. the Werewolf and Video Shorts Vol. 1. “Hey Joe, this is The Rock! I got your check, man! But I gotta give you a DVD of Conrad Brooks vs. the Werewolf. I got no tapes left. I don’t make ’em anymore, they’re too stinkin’ expensive!”
I told him that was fine, but if he could look around and find an original tape, I’d be grateful. For the next 30 minutes, Rock told me about an argument he had with Janet, his longtime leading lady and the star of his four-hour-long opus, Vampire Woman. The phone call ended when The Rock had to refill his cup of “java.”
A week later, a package showed up. It was covered with drawings of monsters and personal inscriptions to myself and Bleeding Skull. When I opened the package, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Instead of sending me a DVD of Conrad Brooks vs. the Werewolf, The Rock had given me the original S-VHS “first copy” tape master. To this day, it’s one of my most prized possessions.
