Lou Perryman in Eagle Pennell’s The Whole Shootin’ Match, 1978
In a day that’s been full of relatively horrific news from all over the country, one item resonates for me with particular horror and sadness: the murder of Lou Perryman, Austin-based actor and local legend, a guy whose film performing career blossomed under the wing of late director Eagle Pennell, but who had deep roots and connections with Texas independents well before his standout performance as the Don Quixote (by virtue of height) to Sonny Davis’ Sancho Panza in Pennell’s wonderful 1978 feature The Whole Shootin’ Match. Perryman didn’t parlay his part in that film into a Hollywood character actor career quite as much as Davis did, but he did go on to appear in the likes of Poltergeist (directed by his old associate Tobe Hooper) and Boys Don’t Cry, as well as an episode of Walker, Texas Ranger.
My own introduction to Lou was rather inauspicious. I had written up Watchmaker Films’ terrific DVD of Shootin’ Match for The Auteurs’ Notebook, and Lou chimed in with a rather (and understandably) ornery comment noting that I had misspelled his name, and taking issue with the notion that Eagle Pennell had even been in the vicinity of the shoot of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I fixed the misspelling (a careless typo) and responded, citing my sources for the TCM story. He sent me an e‑mail response that was so gracious and lovely that I blushed, and he wrote some kind words in the comments section of the post (it’s all here, and Lou’s words bristle with his particular passion). It felt like one of those situations where one had found a friend via confrontation.
And soon enough, Lou and I became Facebook friends, as is the custom of the day, and we exchanged quite a few notes—Lou asking me if, for instance, I had seen such-and-such a Hungarian picture, and describing his exhilaration over it. At this year’s South By Southwest festival, my friend, Benten FIlms’ Andrew Grant, newly partnered with Watchmaker Films’ Mark Rance, debuted Tobe Hooper’s long-lost first feature, Eggshells, of which Lou had shot substantial parts. Andrew and Lou met at a,I am told, raucous post-screening party, and my last exchanges with Lou, asking him about meeting Andrew, were kind of hilarious in their confused expansiveness.
He struck me as a larger than life character who loved Austin, took a lot of pride in his work, and loved cinema and life in equal measure. I had really looked forward to getting to know him better, and now I—and we—never will. Damn it.
Perryman was also a fixture at numerous horror conventions over the last few years (due to his role in THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2) and was even due to appear at one in Ohio this weekend. He gained a new fan base and a lot of friends through them, and there is a great outpouring of anger and grief from the horror community about this. It says a lot about Perryman that he could connect with so many different types of people, and they are all in shock over this senseless tragedy.
All more disturbing that he died such a horrible, drawn-out death in Chainsaw 2. I don’t think I’ll watch that film again for a long, long time.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t know the Pennell films. The Whole Shootin’ Match is now at the top of my Netflix queue.
R.I.P.
WHOLE SHOOTIN MATCH and LAST NIGHT AT THE ALAMO (along with the short HELL OF A NOTE, that comes with the WSM DVD) are Lou’s best work, and I hate to have to repeat the old canard but yes it is true that Robert Redford was inspired to start Sundance Institute after seeing an Eagle Pennell film that Lou starred in, and wondering how he could help talented but resourceless film makers such as them. Eagle and Lou are a chapter in regional film that deserves a place next to movies like KILLER OF SHEEP and WANDA.
Roger Ebert famously reversed himself and upped his rating for WSM from three to four stars recently. I can’t recommend these two films higher. Alamo is only on VHS at present but don’t let that stop you.
Everyone who knew Eagle has a tale to tell of humor, sadness, bravado and tequila. Everyone who knew Lou has a story that involves kindness, giving, and gentle humor combined with respect and fond memories. And beer. God love him, Eagle may have been a pocket Peckinpah but Lou too was bigger than life but also, like Will Geer explained in WINCHESTER 73, “one of a thousand.” (Hell, he was better than that, I just know he’d like the reference to a good Western and wouldn’t take the compliment without disparaging. )
Eagle and now Lou are both “no longer available,” two tragic deaths in different ways but just as long-gone, god damn it, Marice. Together (with Sonny Carl Davis and assorted friends like Wayne and Lin and Kim, et al ) they made my favorite films about Texas & Texans. I miss them both but maybe they are having a drink and planning their next caper somewhere beside a whiskey lake beside the big rock candy mountain.
FYI if you were a friend his memorial is this thursday at Schultz’s beer garden at 7PM.
Via con dios, Lou.
I’m a bit disappointed that this post only has three comments when the Joe Swanberg post got at least 12,083 by my last unreliable count. To be honest, however, I don’t know if I’d even know who the hell Lou Perryman was if I hadn’t moved to Austin nine years ago from the Midwest. Finding out who he was has been one of the joys of my film-going life. I was fortunate enough to see Perryman and Sonny Davis and Eagle Pennell’s brother at a Q&A for a screening of The Whole Shootin’ Match a couple years ago, and even though I’m allergic to Q&As, it was a wonderful night. Perryman was everything great about Texas minus everything bad, and a great actor. His death seems like a major cosmic mistake that would have been rectified in a movie too shitty for him to appear in. The way he delivers the line “I built ya a little fry house” in Chainsaw 2 is worth more than the careers of at least 16 highly paid actors I can come up with off the top of my head, which means it’s worth a lot more than that. The previous poster was absolutely justified in comparing Shootin’ Match to Wanda and Killer of Sheep. What a triple bill that would be. Mr. Kenny, I really enjoy your blog. Thanks for paying respect to a wonderful and unfairly neglected actor.