Years ago, I had the opportunity to buy an Alien. By that I mean a xenomorph, one of the double jawed critters that have joyfully romped with Sigourney Weaver through multiple movies. In those movies, we’re led to believe there are a metric ton of them, so many that if you were to throw an M41A pulse rifle, you’d hit one. But next time you watch Aliens and marvel at Weaver, Michael Biehn, Bill Paxton and others being terrorized by hordes of fiendish thingies, bear in mind that there were only twelve of them. Those twelve were cunningly shot by James Cameron to create the illusion of an unstoppable army.

That brings us to me, and a guy I knew from college. We’ll call him “Jack,” and Jack was super-good at getting his hands on props.* He knew I loved both the Alien films and the Ghostbusters films. One day he called and slyly said he could get me something interesting. That interesting thing was not a ghost trap, as I foolishly assumed, but one of the twelve xenomorph suits. 

I couldn’t pull the trigger. Partially because the amount was just a little more than I could afford at the time. More importantly, I felt like something like that suit was an artifact, and it couldn’t be stored in my janky-ass apartment. For a long time I thought my viewpoint was shared by a handful of people. Surprise, surprise, I was wrong! Mad Props, an entertaining new documentary, dives deep into the subculture of stuff in movies and the people who love them.

We’re introduced to Tom Biolchini, a Tulsa banker, who is an avowed movie nut. He’s also a man of means. We can see that by the room in his spacious home dedicated to memorabilia. We can really see that when he’s in an auction. The item he bids on is the sports almanac from Back to the Future: Part II. In the space of about five seconds, the bid price starts at fourteen thousand dollars and rockets upward. Without missing a beat, Tom bids thirty thousand dollars.**

Should I get into the part where Tom bids seventy-five thousand dollars on the Holy Grail prop from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? Let’s not dwell on it, since I’ll spiral into a finances-fueled anxiety attack. But I will mention that he bids even more on other items, and in those moments I was praying for a Zoloft. 

Consider that vast amounts of money are spent by Tom and many others like him on movie props. What’s the life cycle of these props? They’re conceived as a description in a screenplay, then gestate as drawings done by prop masters. Their birth is when the prop masters make them, and they become a tangible object that’s in physical proximity with an actor.

Unlike many rich people I could name, Tom has an extremely healthy sense of both self-awareness and curiosity. He wonders about others like himself immersed in prop auctions. Why do they do this? Is it due to a love of cinema? A form of curation? A cool conversation piece for a home or office? A strictly unemotional investment? 

So Tom embarks on a journey to meet others and examine different sides of the prop phenomenon. Collector Sean Lesponera shows Tom a pair of Wolverine claws used in X2: X-Men United. Sean explains that it’s ultimately a passion project for him, and that when he deeply connects with a film, he does his utmost to purchase a piece of that film. Yet he’s cognizant that the props aren’t exactly made to last. He proudly shows off an animatronic puppet used in Gremlins. When Tom asks if he can touch it, Sean explains that even a restored prop like this one is dangerously close to falling apart.

Many of them buy props from the legendary Prop Store in London. We see, over and over, a kind of dreamy reverence as the collectors talk about what the props mean to them. They’re more than simply a nostalgia delivery system, they’re a way to share a cherished memory with others. We also see, over and over, their bafflement when they inevitably learn that filmmakers and studios generally don’t give a damn about props as a cultural artifact. The only thing that matters is the movie itself.

Are props a form of art? A fan of the Scream franchise, Arturo Reyes, believes they are. He shows Tom a stunt knife from the 2022 Scream entry. It’s cunningly designed to squirt out fake blood at the blade, and create the illusion of a stab wound without getting any janky CGI involved. For Arturo, a trick knife in a slasher movie franchise is as valid a form of artistic expression as the Mona Lisa. 

That belief in the concept of props as art leads Tom to Italy. He meets Luca Cableri, the curator of a props museum. He’s converted a venerable palazzo into a museum, and I’ll admit that it’s a little jarring to see a Terminator skull displayed within soaring Renaissance architecture. But isn’t that kind of a perfect example of the sacred and the profane? Along similar lines is the Musee de Cinema et Miniature, a French museum in Lyon dedicated to not just the props, but the artistry of the mechanisms hidden within.

How do the actual motion picture creatives feel about this? Mickey Rourke talks about the necessity of props in an actor’s toolbox.*** When asked how he feels to know that people spend immense amounts of money on his work, prop sculptor David Reed James seems flattered, and more than a little bemused. Robert Englund, the man who portrayed Freddy Krueger, discusses the different bladed gloves crafted for use while making A Nightmare on Elm Street. Despite the particular models, such as one made from balsa wood that was used for fight scenes, Englund explains the necessity of having a tangible object in the filmmaking process. That tactile aspect creates a reality that CGI simply can’t replicate.

Director Juan Pablo Reinoso has made a zippy documentary specifically crafted for cinephiles, film geeks, and movie nerds. In Tom’s journey, Reinoso shows us a group of people with two traits firmly in common. They have some serious disposable income, and they’re all deeply passionate. Along with that passion is a deeply welcoming spirit, and Reinoso infuses the entirety of the documentary with a love for film that’s never cynical, and never fanatical. I kept waiting for a tech-bro scumbag to show up to bloodlessly buy Christopher Reeve’s Superman costume as a mere investment. It never happens, because that’s not where Reinoso’s focus is. 

You might have someone in your life that’s a committed film freak.**** If you want to understand why someone like me would seriously consider dropping serious money on a xenomorph costume, see Mad Props. If you’re already someone like that, see Mad Props. While they might have just a little more money than you and I, the fact remains that these are our people.

 

*Was it legal? I assume so, since Jack was always a stand-up guy, but if he was actually robbing multinational corporations, I’m totally cool with it. 

**The question begs asking; how does Tom’s family feel about his very particular hobby? Judging by the very nice house he lives in, my gut tells me they’re totally cool with it. Another question begs asking; why would Tom spend that much money on props when he could be giving it to charity and affecting positive change in the world? The answer comes in the form of another question. How do you know he isn’t doing that already?

***He also asks that they not be referred to as “props,” but rather “activities.” Never change, Mickey.

****Coincidentally also the name of a very obscure Batman villain. James Gunn, hit me up! I can play this role!



Tim Brennan
Tim has been alarmingly enthusiastic about movies ever since childhood. He grew up in Boulder and, foolishly, left Colorado to study Communications in Washington State. Making matters worse, he moved to Connecticut after meeting his too-good-for-him wife. Drawn by the Rockies and a mild climate, he triumphantly returned and settled down back in Boulder County. He's written numerous screenplays, loves hiking, and embarrassed himself in front of Samuel L. Jackson. True story.  
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