Short Cuts
BY MARC SAVLOV
So Long, Robbie Jacks Dept.: Literally moments away from wrapping up this week's column, we received word that Austin film/ music/everything icon Robbie Jacks passed away at 8:30am, Wednesday, Aug. 8, at Brackenridge Hospital. He was 38. The cause of death was a heart attack. According to Jacks' longtime friend Fritz Blau, the pair had been watching television late Monday night when Jacks began complaining of nausea. Tuesday morning Jacks still felt unwell and friend Teresa Taylor called 911, at which point an ambulance took Jacks to Brackenridge Hospital. Initial blood and lab work drew a blank, said friend Mary Jane Warren, and Jacks was kept overnight for more testing. "The nurse told me it was nothing neurological and that it didn't look like it was a cardiac event," says Warren. "His lab work was good; they wanted to keep his stomach empty because he was thirsty and his back hurt -- they thought it might have something to do with his abdomen. They said his heart rate was slow, and they were giving him Tylenol for pain, but they said he was going to be okay." When Warren called the hospital to check on Jacks at 7:30, Wednesday morning, the prognosis was good, but another call an hour later brought news that Jacks had just expired from a heart attack. Jacks was as much a part of Austin's creative backbone as anyone, a true link to what made (and still makes) the city such a fantastic place for filmmakers, artists, writers, and performers. Jacks was all of those and more, having, among many, many other accomplishments, portrayed beloved chainsaw-wielding psychopath Leatherface in Kim Henkel's 1994 film Return of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, for which Jacks also recorded a love theme (of sorts) with pal Deborah Harry. There's much more to say about Jacks' amazing career and life -- don't get me started on the radio show-cum-lunacy festival he did with Butthole Surfer Gibby Haynes on their 101X radio show -- but suffice it to say Austin is far poorer for the loss. According to his friends, today, Thursday, Aug. 9, would have been Jacks' 42nd birthdayä With all the grim death sneaking up on us of late -- Jacks' death comes just one week after Austin filmmaker David Boone's passing -- what we all need is a good, hot, heaping slab o' exploitation filmmaking to take our minds off our problems. Thank goodness Quentin Tarantino is almost here to toss some primo sex and violence our way. QT5, Tarantino's annual exploit-a-thon, arrives Friday, Aug. 17 at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema Downtown (409 Colorado) with a Spaghetti Western Triple Feature, and the ever-popular All Night Sci-Fi Horror Marathon the next evening. Tickets and passes for the 10-day event are still available ($125 gets you the whole shebang, baby) -- check out www.drafthouse.com for all pertinent info, or give owner "Crazy" Tim League a call at 476-1320. Nil Infantum!ä As if that weren't enough for you to drown your sorrows in -- and face it, it never is -- tickets to the 14th Annual Austin Gay and Lesbian International Film Festival are now on sale. The fest runs Aug. 24 through Sept. 6 and will screen more than 170 filmsm 17 countries in 67 programs in two venues. Phew! That's a spicy meatball! Prices, times, dates -- you name it -- can be had at www.agliff.orgä Finally, Robert Rodriguez's insanely great kid flick Spy Kids is back in theatres starting tomorrow, with all new footage, all new surprises, and god knows what else. If you missed it the first time around, gather up your hellspawn and schlep 'em off to this mind-bogglingly supercool filmä Now, please, no more deaths for at least a month. Enough already.
BY KEN LIECK
August 10, 2001:
Eternal Child
Just as the Chronicle was going to press on Wednesday, along came word of the sudden death of Robbie Jacks, local singer, actor, and all-around character. Jacks, who according to friends would have been 42 today (Thursday), was a ward of the Austin punk/New Wave scene of the early Eighties, and is probably best known to the world in general for his role as Leatherface IV alongside Renee Zellweger and Matthew McConaughey in the not-quite-straight-to-video classic, The Return of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. As befitted the high-voiced singer, his Leatherface less recalled Ed Gein than it did Divine. Musically, Jacks' most prominent role was with Boy Trouble, the band born from the early-Nineties local rock musical of the same name. Later, he recorded with Blondie's Debbie Harry while counting chanteuses Exene Cervenka, Sandra Bernhard, and Madonna among his chums. Jacks was taken to the hospital on Tuesday after telling friends he felt some numbness in his limbs, but appeared to be recovering when he suddenly passed away on Wednesday morning. At this time, his death has gone from being ruled a heart attack to something less certain. Friends of Jacks say his cats will be put in good homes and that after the shock wears off, there'll be a memorial get-together in his honor.
BY ROBERT FAIRES
August 10, 2001:
In Memoriam
Sometimes the losses just come in waves. A couple of weeks ago, the news came that UT alum Steve Barton had died. On the heels of that came word of the passing of longtime Austin actor John Martin. As I was preparing this week's column in tribute to Martin, the day this issue went to press, the phone in the office rang, and Features Editor Kate Messer was told that local musician, theatre and film artist, and man-about-town Robbie Jacks had just died unexpectedly. In each case, the news came like a blow. All three were important to the life of this city. All three will be missed. Here are a few words to help explain why.
John L. Martin was a character actor blessed with one of the great voices of our time: deep as a well and scratchy as a wool sweater, just country enough to put you at ease and just polished enough to convince you of absolutely anything it said. It was not for nothing that you could hear him on the air, hawking homes, pushing cars, promoting banks, just about any time you turned on the local radio or TV during the past 22 years. His voice was gold, and he knew how to use it. Fortunately, he didn't use it exclusively in the service of advertising. He worked on the stage, too, starting out in community theatre in Orange, Beaumont, Port Arthur, and Lake Charles, La., in the Fifties and Sixties -- he and his wife Gladys had settled in Orange in the Forties and reared their three children there -- and after relocating to Austin in 1979, in productions at the Zachary Scott Theatre Center, Capitol City Playhouse, and Hyde Park Theatre. He won a B. Iden Payne Award for his performance as Willie Loman in a Zach production of Death of a Salesman and a second award for his leading performance in the 1983 Cap City production of Final Touches, a drama written by his friend Ken Johnson. I was privileged to work with him in the latter show and will always remember his good humor, unfailing generosity, on and off the stage, and that God's-on-his-throne voice booming out of his barrel chest. It was around the time of that show that Martin began to break into film and TV, too, scoring parts in the series Dallas, the miniseries Streets of Laredo, and the film Silkwood. Martin died July 24 of congestive heart failure. He was 81. He is survived by his daughter Regina Martin Walsh of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; his son John J. Martin of Bridge City, and his son Steve Martin of Austin. In lieu of flowers, friends are encouraged to donate to Zachary Scott Theatre Center and the acting classes of the State Theater Company.
Robbie Jacks was so involved in so many things that there's no way I could claim the definitive memorial to him in the Arts section. Look to "Dancing About Architecture" or "Short Cuts" in this issue for a fuller accounting of this man's gifts and contributions to our cultural life. But somewhere in between collaborating with Debbie Harry and playing Leatherface in one of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre sequels, Robbie Jacks did some theatre. He was one of the members of a little company called Big State Productions, which created one of the city's most memorable and well-traveled theatre pieces in In the West. Robbie wasn't part of that show, but he took part in several other Big State pieces, eventually penning his own play, Boy Trouble, a musical account of the early punk scene here in Austin. Robbie died of cardiac arrest on Wednesday, Aug. 8, one day shy of his 42nd birthday. He was, as I'm sure you will agree, too young to go.
(08/10/2001)Robert Nick Jacks Robert Nick Jacks, born August 9, 1959, in Monterrey, California, and raised in Germany and Copperas Cove, Texas, died in Austin on the morning of August 8, 2001. Beloved friend of many, many people. He is preceded in death by his father and Oma; and leaves behind his mother, two brothers, a sister, his much beloved, Aunt Rosa Hall of Virginia, and her two sons. Highly intelligent, provocative witty, and multi-talented, Robbie worked as a writer, singer, songwriter, producer, actor, radio personality, record company head (Viscera Music), collector, and general social observer and cultural commentator. His work included writing, producing, and singing a duet, ``Der Einziger, Weg,'' with Debbie Harry of Blondie, which was the love theme from the third ``Texas Chainsaw Massacre'' film. Robbie also protrayed Leatherface in the film. He worked on many prestigious theatre productions, including Big State Productions' ``Our Town'' and ``Council of Love'' and Jo Carol Pierce's ``Bad Girls Upset by the Truth.'' A fixture in the eighties punk rock scene, he later produced ``Boy Trouble,''a punk rock musical based on the exploits of that time. He wrote the music and lyrics for ``Boy Trouble'' and played the lead role. Robbie hosted two radio shows, one with Gibby Haynes of the Butthole Surfers called ``The Gibby & Robbie Show'' on 101X, and later a talk show. ``The Robbie & Shelby Show,'' on KJFK. One of the more infamous bits on this show featured a live interview with Debbie Harry as she lay in bed with him in his house in Austin. Generous and tenderhearted, Robbie loved children and animals and particularly cherished his cats. It it's true that; you are reunited with your pets when you enter Heaven, Robbie is being greeted by many creatures whom he nurtured over the years. He was also a wonderful friend who brought many people together, for decades running a salon in his living room in which one could meet the most interesting people from all walks of life, and of all ages. For the many who loved him, who laughed and cried with him, who collaborated with him, it will be difficult to imagine life without him. We love you, Robbie. A memorial for Robert Jacks will be announced soon.
By Dick Stanley
American-Statesman Staff
Saturday, August 11, 2001
Friends of Robbie Jacks, who played the villain Leatherface in the fourth of the "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" films, are gathering in Austin this weekend to mourn the artist, who died unexpectedly Wednesday at Brackenridge Hospital, a day before his 42nd birthday.
His family said the cause of death was an abdominal aneurysm, a tendency he inherited from his father, who died of one when Jacks was a child.
"He was an incredibly supportive friend of all of us," said Jim Fritzler, former artistic director of Big Stake Productions, an Austin theater company, who drove in Thursday from Nebraska to join friends at Jacks' West Austin home. "We had a kind of birthday party for him."
Born Robert Nick Jacks in Monterey, Calif., he was from a military family and grew up in Germany and Copperas Cove, about 60 miles north of Austin. Jacks came to Austin in 1980 and started volunteering at Zachary Scott Theater, becoming a fixture in the decade's punk-rock scene, said Austin playwright Shelby Brammer, a friend and collaborator.
Jacks was an actor, writer, singer and composer who worked on many local shows, including Big Stake Productions' "Our Town" and "Council of Love." He also wrote, produced and performed in "Boy Trouble," an autobiographical punk-rock musical about Austin, which sold out two runs in 1991 and 1993, Fritzler said.
"I read his reviews and saved his reviews," said his mother, Ginger Lee Jacks of Copperas Cove. "He was constantly writing."
In 1993, he joined then-unknown actors Matthew McConaughey and Renee Zellweger in "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Next Generation," a humorous sequel to the 1974 Austin horror classic. When the movie was released in 1997, an American-Statesman reviewer said Jacks "imbues the chainsaw-wielding Leatherface with an almost demure, feminine charm."
Jacks also recorded the movie's love theme, "Der Einziger Weg," (German for "The Only Way") a duet with Debbie Harry of the rock group Blondie.
"He said when he grew up he wanted to be in a horror movie and meet Debbie Harry," said longtime friend Mary-Jane Warren. "And he did both of those things. He was frequently thwarted, but he never gave up."
Jacks is survived by his mother, three brothers and a sister.
A private family service is pending, but friends are invited to gather tonight at Jacks' home at 2902 Oakmont Blvd., said his sister, Nicole Jacks Brown of Round Rock.
"His house has been full since he passed on," she said. "He was just adored by people. We're just devastated and will miss him very much."
You may contact Dick Stanley at dstanley@statesman.com or 445-3629.