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Posted 02.14.07 Valley of the Dolls Playing with unlikely action figures in Oxford By Freda Moon At the end of a long gravel driveway in Oxford is a modest stone house. In its attic, action figures are born. But these are not superheroes or children's toys. They are political. They are raunchy. They are Fox News fodder. They are the work of Emil Vicale and his two-person company, Herobuilders. In January, Herobuilders made international news for "Dope on a Rope," a 12-inch tall Saddam Hussein figure with a noose around its pinky-sized plastic neck. They've done Schwarzenegger, a shotgun-toting Cheney and several versions of President Bush. Due out soon: "The Rock" Obama; Fidel Castro on his death bed; and Britney Spears with exposed vagina. In 2004, Herobuilders created "Mean Dean," complete with a voice chip featuring Howard Dean's frenzied post-Iowa Caucus howl. Before that, there was an Osama bin Laden in pink panties (that one, Vicale says, "messed with the Muslim philosophy that only American men are gay"). And, during the U.S. invasion of Iraq, Herobuilder's "Disinformation Minister"-the Iraqi information minister, Muhammed Saeed al-Sahaf-sold 16,000 figures in 24 hours. Vicale has owned the company since Sept. 20, 2001. With the country still in the throws of post-9-11 anxiety, it seemed an inauspicious time to take over a failing action figure business. But it was the image of President Bush at Ground Zero that got the company off the ground. "I was unbelievably inspired that he could actually speak without a fuckin' cue card," says Vicale, sounding sarcastic, but actually being sincere-or as sincere as he seems capable. He created a Bush at Ground Zero doll for himself. The doll received so many comments that Vicale decided to offer it for sale online. By the next morning he was receiving orders. Before he moved to Connecticut, Vicale was, by his own account, a hotshot designer in Manhattan. When he was just 23, he was named to the board of directors of the once-prestigious furniture design firm Habitat International. He maintains an outsized ego to match. He brags shamelessly about the power he wielded as a young man. Today, Vicale is in his mid-40s. He still has the Bronx-Italian accent of his youth. And, when talking about everything from "monkeyboy" Democrats to his ex-girlfriend, he swears like a soldier in battle. He's a short man, with a balding head and a thick tuft of grey hair on his chin. He wears a fleece pullover emblazoned with the word Venezia-a tourist grab, no doubt. But despite the casual clothes and California skate-rock facial hair, he carries himself with a cultivated sense of authority. He's the emperor of his domain. Herobuilders doesn't limit itself to public figures. They can create an action figure of anyone . They rely on freelance sculptors to create a 3D model based on front and side photographs. That sculpture then goes to a molding shop in Torrington and is turned into a plastic figure, which is then painted, in the attic, by Vicale's assistant Cathy. The dolls themselves, though, are hardly artful. Their bodies are not unlike a Ken doll, though skin tone varies depending on the friend or foe depicted. It's only facial hair and clothing that distinguish Saddam, for example, from Hugo Chavez. The political action figures are what get Herobuilders attention on Fox News and in "Istanbul, Pakistan, and the deepest jungles in the world," says Vicale. But the company gets its biggest orders from the likes of NASCAR, companies looking for creative marketing ideas with a half million dollars to spend on a single project. Vicale has received death threats for his handiwork. One, from Brazil, was so serious the FBI was called. But threats of physical harm are not Vicale's only concern. Among the rest of the papers in his tiny attic office, is a letter marked with an ominous return address. It simply reads, THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON. Vicale hasn't opened it. "You see the White House," he says, "and your name on an envelope-that's just bad, right? You're fucked." Herobuilders, Vicale claims, has a right to represent just about any public figure-however insulting or distasteful the dolls might be. His one concern is his President Bush dolls. There is a "vague"-and often ignored-law, explains Vicale, that says you can't profit from a sitting president. So, among all of his dolls, his most complimentary model may prove the most problematic. He's not opening the letter, he says, because he'd rather not know what it says. Instead, he's waiting to a get a call: "You want to go hunting with Vice President Cheney?" he imagines he'll be asked. He lets out a roiling laugh, and sits back in his chair. Emperor of his domain. - February 8, 2007 |
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