Dark Intruder 1965
Dark Intruder is a 1965 television movie directed by Harvey Hart and written by Barré Lyndon. Set in 1960s San Francisco, the film follows a series of gruesome murders that leave the police struggling to solve the bizarre crimes that appear to be linked to dark occult rituals. They enlist the help of Brett Kingsford, an urbane occultist/criminologist played by Leslie Nielsen, who is as charismatic as he is roguish. Kingsford poses as a wealthy playboy and encounters a mix of interesting characters, including Peter Mark Richman and Judi Meredith (The Night Walker 1964, Queen of Blood 1964), uncovering dark secrets connected to the city’s history and a demon that emerges from a mystical statue left at each crime scene
Devils of Darkness 1965
Devils of Darkness is a 1965 British horror film that uses vampire lore and satanic ritual themes. Lance Comfort directs with an atmosphere typical of the 1960s British vibe. It stars William Sylvester as Paul Baxter, Hubert Noël as Sinistre, and Carole Gray as Tania. It was written by Lyn Fairhurst and was Comfort’s last feature film.
A group of British tourists on holiday finds themselves in a perilous situation when Count Sinistre, a vampire who leads a secret Satanic cult in a small French village executed in the sixteenth century for his profane acts, rises from the grave. He unleashes his cult upon the unsuspecting tourists, killing three of them. Sinestre resurrects a gypsy girl named Tania, whom he has killed and taken as his bride.
One of the survivors, Paul Baxter, becomes suspicious of the supernatural nature of the deaths and decides to investigate. During his search for answers, Baxter acquires a bat-shaped talisman belonging to Count Sinistre. This prompts the Count to pursue Baxter back to England in an attempt to recover the talisman, murdering anyone connected to him.
And Soon the Darkness 1970
In And Soon the Darkness, a 1970 British thriller directed by Robert Fuest and written by Brian Clemens, is the taut story of two beautiful young English nurses, Jane (Pamela Franklin) and Cathy (Michele Dotrice), who embark on a cycling holiday touring the picturesque rural French countryside.
They stop at a cafe to chart out their next destination when Cathy catches the eye of the mysterious presence of a Frenchman named Paul (Sandor Elès). They hop on their bicycles and continue on their journey when Paul zooms past them on his motor scooter, only to park and wait for them on the side of the road up ahead.
After they peddle along their way, he stops to visit the grave of a young girl, a lovely young tourist who had been murdered three years ago.
The girl’s adventure takes a dark turn when they disagree about their plans. Jane wants to get going before it gets dark, and Cathy hopes to meet up with Paul again. The two quarrel and decide to split up. Jane stops at the local Cafe San Rivo, owned by Madame Lassal (Hana Maria Pravda), who warns Jane that the road is ‘bad,’ though she briefly waits for Cathy to catch up. When Jane returns to the spot where they last took a sojourn, she discovers that Cathy has vanished without a trace, having left her camera behind a trace. A menacing stranger has attacked and killed her. Paul suddenly shows up and becomes the prime suspect in Cathy’s disappearance.
As Jane frantically searches for her friend, she faces language barriers and growing paranoia in an unfamiliar rural community. The hostile locals and Paul’s suspicious behavior heighten Jane’s sense of dread. As she is being stalked, it is hard to know who to trust. The beauty of the unease Fuest creates is that it all takes place in broad daylight, creating an atmosphere of ironic, expansive claustrophobia amidst the vast open spaces of the French countryside. And Soon the Darkness is a suspenseful little psycho-sexual masterpiece penned by British fantasy television writer who created The Avengers and the cheeky little Daleks’ and – Doctor Who. And Fuest manages to attain a level of restrained 1970s shivers, a Hitchcockian landscape, though devoid of the campy, vividly colorful, psychological butterflies that Fuest saved for The Abominable Dr. Phibes duet and The Devil’s Rain in 1975.
Daughters of Darkness 1971
Daughters of Darkness is a 1971 erotic melancholic horror film directed by Harry Kümel (Malpertuis 1971); it is a German/French/Belgian production photographed with exquisite detail by Eduard van der Enden and art direction by Françoise Hardy. The story follows a newlywed couple, Stefan (John Karlen) and Valerie (Danielle Ouimet), who, after having a passionate love-making session on a train, head back from Sweden. Valerie is apprehensive about Stefan’s mother meeting her for the first time, so he suggests taking a room somewhere until he can make a call and prepare for his domineering mother, to whom he is newly married. They arrive at a nearly empty, opulent old hotel in Ostend, Belgium, while en route to England. learning they are the only guests except for two glamorous beauties. The sophisticated image of pure elegance – Countess Elizabeth Battori ‘Bathory’ (Delphine Seyrig) and her traveling companion, the sensuous, full-lipped nymphet Ilona (Andrea Rau).
The clerk is baffled by Battori’s appearance because she poses a remarkable resemblance to a woman who visited the hotel thirty years earlier, yet she hasn’t aged a bit. The couple takes an adjoining suite next to the mysterious pair while there is a series of gruesome crimes: four local girls who are found slaughtered. Also, Stefan seems to be fixated on the murders, while his taste for violent sex rises to new heights.
Stefan and Valerie’s stay takes a sinister turn once they encounter the enigmatic Countess, who is actually a modern-day incarnation of the infamous historical ‘Bathory,’ known for her gory torture of young girls.
While celebrating the luxuriations and pleasures of life, the four share drinks in the hotel lounge, where the Countess relates the story of the ‘Scarlett Countess’ and her sadistic appetites for the blood of hundreds of chained virgins. She not only drank their hot-flowing blood but bathed in its glorious crimson nectar after committing vile atrocities on these poor, helpless maidens. Stefan becomes fascinated and aroused by the details of slit throats… and worse. Valerie is deeply disturbed by the grim conversation.
As the couple becomes entangled with the Countess and her alluring secretary, Ilona, their dark secrets are revealed. They finally learn the truth about the two women who are actually vampires: Elizabeth, the ‘Scarlett Countess,’ and Ilona, one of her lovers. When Stefan beats Valerie with his belt after having sex, she leaves him but is met by the Countess at the train station.
Stefan makes love to Ilona and accidentally kills her when he drags her into the shower. Running water is lethal to vampires. When Valerie and Elizabeth return from the train station, they help Stefan dispose of Ilona’s body, and finally, the Countess seduces Valerie, whom she’s had her eye on from the beginning. Countess Elizabeth now has her new companion. The struggle over Valerie ensues til the climatic, poetic finale—a mesmeric tableau.
With its stylish cinematography and haunting atmosphere, Daughters of Darkness remains a cult classic in the genre. This is another film that calls to me to do a right full-length, The Last Drive In treatment. So stay tuned.
Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark 1973
Released on October 10, 1973, Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark led with the tagline: Now you see them… now you don’t… now you die!
Tiny demonic imps living in a Victorian house terrorize Sally (Kim Darby), married to up-and-coming advertising executive and workaholic Alex Farnham (Jim Hutton), who have just moved in. Sally has inherited the house from her grandmother. The secret of this Victorian portal to the bowels of a hellish domain, the entrance, which is a bolted fireplace in her grandfather’s dingy study, is linked to his volatile relationship with the sadistic little creatures – before he disappeared. Sally is hell-bent, literally, on redecorating with garish appeal, insisting on opening up the locked room, which leads to all the trouble.
Only when Alex is out of the house do the little menacing prune-faced imps play head games, taunting and threatening her while they impatiently wait for the time when she will truly come home. Handyman William Demarest, as cantankerous as ever, continues to urge Sally not to meddle in things better left locked away, but she does not heed his warning. “Some things are better left unopened.”
She hires Pedro Armendariz to tear open the bricked-up fireplace, but he soon pays for it when these horrific little creatures rig up a chord on the stairs meant to break Sally’s neck. The atmosphere of paranoia sets the mood, as no one else sees them, though they pop up everywhere while taking a shower, at a dinner party, and through the staircase. Alex angrily suggests she see a doctor. Barbara Anderson, who plays her best friend, doesn’t even believe her until the very end when it’s too late. Their little Greek chorus, calling her name in whispered tones, “free free free… set us free!” haunt the shadowy darkness as they hate the light—even flash bulbs and lit candles.
Sally is a frustrating, stubborn sort of person who just doesn’t leave when she knows she’s not imagining things, and her dismissive husband refuses to listen. I love to watch this every Halloween, and I can’t resist calling, sitting on my couch, yelling at Sally, the idiot, for just not getting out of the house. Even at the end,… taking sleeping pills and taking a nap on the bed when she is an inch away from being dragged down the darkened hole to nowhere, only to become a whispering tone in the shadows… herself. There’s a great score by composer Vic Mizzy, and one of the imps was played by Felix Silla, who was The Addams Family’s hirsute little character who squeaks and tribbles – ‘Cousin It.’
The Dark Secrets of Harvest Home 1978
Leo Penn directed, and Jack Laird produced this NBC miniseries, The Dark Secrets of Harvest Home. It’s a very atmospheric, folksy horror tale about an urban family who relocates to a seemingly idyllic rural community with unsettling undercurrents. Much like the tranquility of rural life known by Hammer, the surroundings belie the dark secrets beneath its surface. Bette Davis, in a role she was determined to play ever since she had read Thomas Tryon’s (The Other) novel, delivers an unambiguous bond to her Hammer days with films like The Nanny; wearing a pastoral high-neck black dress, white bonnet, and owlish glasses, she captures the essence of the Widow Fortune. Sage and world-weary, outwardly benevolent, yet there is a trace of malice lurking beneath. The Widow presides over the quaint and provincial village of Cornwall Coombe, acting as many things. As their medicine woman, the elder, and the matron who guides the villagers with her strict council. It is this isolated way of life that appeals to the Constantines, who are the perfect archetypal disaffected city people, Nick (David Ackroyd) and Beth (Joanna Miles). Beth has a regular gig with her psychiatrist to help her deal with Nick’s straying, and their daughter Kate (Rosanna Arquette) suffers from anxiety-driven asthma attacks. Once the family is taken into the Widow’s matriarchal bosom, her spell seems to be the nostrum the family needs. Beth is free of her therapy, and Kate’s asthma is cured. But Nick starts to feel the tremors of something corrupting at its core and the facade of their cloyingly charming new life, and the residents of the Coombe are a bit too obsessed with exalting their traditions that make you wonder about the sacred self-reliance and hints – with a rather sinister tone – that no one ever leaves the Coombe. Note: the recordings that blind Robert Dodd listens to are voiced by Donald Pleasance.
The Dark 1979
Tobe Hooper and John ‘Bud’ Cardos direct The Dark 1979, starring William Devane, Cathy Lee Crosby, and Richard Jaekel, who are fighting some kind of monster who goes on a killing and mutilation spree only in the dark of the night. Frustrated by the clueless police, the father (Devane) of the first victim goes looking for answers.
Dark Night of the Scarecrow TV movie 1981
This made-for-TV chiller aired on CBS on October 24, 1981. The dapper burlap fellow above is Bubba (Larry Drake), an innocent, kindly man with an intellectual disability who is befriended by a little girl (Tonya Crowe). In a small Southern town, four vigilante farmers (including Robert F. Lyons) wrongfully execute him when they think he has harmed Marylee, who he actually saved from a dog attack.
But after the court sets them free, Bubba seemingly returns from the grave to exact revenge as inextricable accidents begin to kill them off one by one.
Writer/director Frank De Felitta (Audrey Rose 1977, The Entity 1982) directed this pretty nifty small television production. It is pretty drenched in atmosphere during its nighttime sequences, in particular, the scene where Bubba is hiding in a field disguised as a scarecrow, which will become the haunting embodiment of Bubba’s return. While I agree clowns are terrifying, scarecrows can have a similar effect on me!
Dark Night of the Scarecrow also features Jocelyn Brando as Bubba’s mother and Charles Durning as a postman who delivers more than the mail; he brings a special kind of nasty, viciousness, and bloodlust who instigated the torturous death against Bubba in the first place and adds more murder to cover his tracks.
Alone in the Dark 1982
First, here’s a quick note: I met with director Jack Sholder (who also wrote the story) a while back and will interview him once we both have the opportunity. As part of my feature on Sholder, I’ll give more of my commentary on this special horror film as well as some of his other work, The Hidden (1987), A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddie’s Revenge (1985), and 12:01 (1993).
Alone in the Dark is perhaps one of the most iconic representations of the best of 1980s horror with the finest of genre veterans who are the perfect hosts to entertain us with this bitingly satirical film!
In this superb horror thriller, down is up, and up is down – madness blurs as chaos reigns and the lunatics run the asylum. Dr. Daniel Potter (Dwight Schultz), a psychologist, arrives at the mental asylum known as “The Haven” to work under the eccentric and overindulgent Dr. Leo Bain (Donald Pleasence).
Potter is unaware that the most deranged of the inmates there—”Preacher” (Martin Landau), Colonel Hawks (Jack Palance), “Fatty” (Erland Van Lidth), and “The Bleeder” (Phillip Clark)—are convinced that Potter killed his predecessor and their friend, Dr. Harry Merton (Larry Pine).
This experimental hospital seeks to create a sanctuary for the insane where the rooms don’t have bars on their doors. The head doctor, Pleasance, is himself unhinged, and his fellow patients are referred to as voyagers.
Paranoia grips the violent inmates as they fear Potter might turn on them next. When a power outage strikes, these crazies seize their chance; they break out – arming themselves during a riot and looting before heading to the Potter’s white-bread suburban Springwood, New Jersey home.
Preacher — who likes to burn churches and people — kills a bicycle messenger en route and, gleefully, takes his hat! The group makes it to Potter’s house, where they set siege on the family.
Fatty, a psychotic child murderer, is mistaken as the babysitter of Potter’s daughter, Lyla, whom the sinister Colonel has murdered.
As part of the sharp cynicism of the film, the teenagers in Springwood worship a band called The Sick Fucks as they wield prop axes at their concerts. It’s a commentary on the normalization of violence in American pop culture.
The Dark Crystal 1982
From the magnificently prolific minds of Jim Henson and Frank Oz On comes the story of another planet in the distant past and a Gelfling who embarks on a quest to find the missing shard of a magical crystal and restore order to his world.
This is your EverLovin’ Joey saying: just keep those lights blazing. We’re not ready to audition for the next horror flick!
And we’ll move to the exquisitely complex body language of 
