Category: Classic Horror

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #41 Dead and Buried 1981

DEAD AND BURIED 1981

SPOILER ALERT!

Dead and Buried (1981), directed by Gary Sherman (British horror film Death Line 1972, gritty crime thriller Vice Squad 1982), is one of those underrated horror gems that’s equal parts creepy and captivating. Released in the early ’80s, the film blends small-town mystery with gruesome horror, creating a very unsettling experience as you get deeper into the story. With a screenplay by Dan O’Bannon (who directed cult classic horror-comedy The Return of the Living Dead 1985) and Ronald Shusett—the same team behind Alien 1979 —you can expect something dark, twisted, and unforgettable.

The story takes place in the foggy coastal town of Potter’s Bluff, where Sheriff Dan Gillis (James Farentino) investigates a string of bizarre and brutal murders. Tourists and visitors are savagely killed by the townsfolk, only for their corpses to mysteriously reanimate.

The sinister twist: the victims don’t stay dead. Instead, they somehow start walking around as if nothing happened. As Gillis digs deeper into the mystery, he discovers horrifying truths that the town’s mortician, Dobbs (Jack Albertson), isn’t just preparing bodies for burial—this creepy old embalmer has developed a technique for working his magic on the dead and bringing them back to life as part of his macabre “art” like the Greek myth of Pygmalion, recounted in Ovid’s Metamorphoses.

Dobbs sees himself as an artist using corpses as his canvas, blurring the line between creation and destruction in fascinating and horrifying ways. And the role works so well because Jack Albertson comes off like a harmless old-timer—until you realize he’s turning the town into his own creepy art project. The film also plays with ideas of control over life, death, mastery of existence, finality, and human order.

Things get even more disturbing when Gillis realizes his own wife Janet (Melody Anderson) is one of Dobbs’s creations—and so is he. The shocking final twist leaves you questioning everything you thought you knew about life and death.

Jack Albertson stands out as Dobbs, bringing an unsettling charm to his role as the eccentric mortician obsessed with his mastery of the dead. Albertson steals the show, delivering a performance that leaves you never quite sure whether to admire him or fear him.

James Farentino plays Sheriff Gillis with determination, vulnerability, and disbelief as he unravels the town’s horrifying dark secrets, and Melody Anderson keeps you guessing as the increasingly bizarre wife Janet. Horror fans will also appreciate seeing Robert Englund in an early role before he became iconic as Freddy Krueger.

Gary Sherman’s direction is slick – creating an all-consuming atmosphere of dread. Steve Poster’s cinematography perfectly captures Potter’s Bluff as a mist-enshrouded, desolate place while emphasizing its sinister undercurrents. Close-ups and shadowy lighting enhance the sense of unease, making even mundane moments feel ominous.

Even during quiet moments, there’s an unshakable feeling that something isn’t right. And when it comes to gore, Dead and Buried doesn’t hold back. The film opens with a photographer being lured into a trap by locals who beat him and set him on fire—a brutal introduction to Potter’s Bluff. Later, he is killed in his hospital bed when a nurse plunges a needle into his eye—a moment both shocking and unforgettable. I have a thing about eyes! There’s also a sequence with acid melting someone’s face, a woman’s head crushed off-screen, and the discovery of decomposing hands—all contribute to the film’s reputation for graphic horror. They are all gruesome moments that are shocking yet serve the story rather than feel gratuitous. The more people suffer their fates, the more beautiful the art, I suppose.

Though overlooked upon its initial release, Dead and Buried has since gained recognition as a cult classic for its unique blend of slow-burn narrative paired with shocking set pieces, grueling suspense, and graphic horror. This is a perfect exercise in classic horror if you’re into atmospheric films that mess with your head and don’t shy away from unsettling visuals.

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The Curious Charisma of Roddy McDowall: A Life in Art and Film

Film critic Leonard Maltin: “Roddy McDowall’s career spanned more than six decades, and he managed to remain relevant and respected throughout. His performances were always compelling, and his contributions to cinema are invaluable.”

Roddy McDowall certainly had a distinctive presence: He always seemed to exude this uncanny youthful appearance. Even as an adult, McDowall was described as being “perpetually youthful.”

“McDowall was sharp-faced, clearly intelligent, chilly in his pride, and a kid who believed in masking his feelings (just like real kids). There are scenes in the film (How Green Was My Valley) in which older actors seem to learn restraint and stealth from the child. He was so emphatically honest in that film, and a kid who sometimes looked like a little old man (it was observed in life how, close to 70, Roddy still had “a child’s open face’).”– David Thomson for The Independent:

In 1941, The Detroit Free Press had this to say: “The child marvel of Hollywood right now is 12-year-old Roddy McDowall who arrived here from England a year ago. The public hasn’t had a really good look at him, but he has already been boosted to stardom. If you saw Manhunt, that was a small part; it was just a warm-up for the role in How Green Was My Valley, which Fox had in mind when they signed him. It is in this, his second film over here, that Roddy is becoming an American screen personality in his own right.”

“I enjoyed being in movies when I was a boy. As a child, you’re not acting- you believe. Ah, if an adult could only act as a child does with that insane, playing-at-toy-soldiers concentration!” – Roddy McDowall

Roddy McDowall was a highly prolific and versatile actor whose career spanned nearly six decades, encompassing a variety of genres in film, television, and radio. He began his acting journey as a child in 1938 and continued to be a prominent figure in Hollywood until his death in 1998. Throughout his extensive career, McDowall appeared in a wide range of classic films, beginning with 20th Century Fox’s 1941 thriller Manhunt directed by Fritz Lang and including his breakout role in How Green Was My Valley (1941).

Maureen O’Hara and Roddy McDowall in How Green Was My Valley 1941.

This is where he met and became lifelong friends with actress Maureen O’Hara. After Fox’s Best Picture winner, they cast him in the war film Confirm and Deny 1941. The following year, he played Tyrone Power as a young boy in Son of Fury: The Story of Benjamin Blake 1942.

Also, in 1942, they gave him top billing in On the Sunny Side, and he was given co-star credit alongside Monty Woolie in The Pied Piper, playing an orphan of the war. With McDowall’s success sealed, MGM borrowed the fine young actor to star in  Lassie Come Home (1943). The studio held onto him and gave him the leading role in The White Cliffs of Dover in 1944. 

Anne Baxter, Monty Woolley, and Roddy McDowall in The Pied Piper 1942.

Roddy McDowall was voted the number 4 ‘Star of Tomorrow’ in 1944, and Fox gave him another starring role in Thunderhead – Son of Flicka 1945.

Early on, he turned to the theater, starring in the title role of Young Woodley in the summer stock production in West Port, Connecticut, in July 1946. With his love of working on the stage, Orson Welles cast him in his production of Macbeth, where he played Malcolm. In 1948, he took on the same role in the film version.

By now, it was the late 1940s & 1950s, and he signed with Monogram Pictures, a low-budget studio that embraced recognizable stars to make two pictures a year. McDowall made seven films with them and worked as associate producer for director Phil Karlson’s Rocky 1948, a story about a boy and his dog. This was followed by the adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Kidnapped in 1948, Black Midnight directed by Budd Boetticher, Killer Shark, Big Timber in 1950, and The Steel Fist in 1952.

Lyn Thomas and Roddy McDowall in Black Midnight 1950.

Fans appreciate his appearance in the 70s disaster film The Poseidon Adventure (1972) and Overboard (1987). In the latter part of his life, he became a sought-after voice actor, lending his talents to animated projects such as A Bug’s Life (1998) and the popular television series Pinky and the Brain (1995-1998). Notably, McDowall also received acclaim on stage, winning a Tony Award for his supporting role in The Fighting Cock. McDowall worked with some of the most prominent actors in the industry, including Elizabeth Taylor, Gregory Peck, Orson Welles, Charlton Heston, Angela Lansbury, Kim Hunter, Vincent Price, Donald Crisp, Maureen O’Hara, Irene Dunne, Rock Hudson, Bette Davis, Jennifer Jones. Maurice Evans, Ruth Gordon, Natalie Wood, Lauren Bacall, Ava Gardner, and Rex Harrison. His career also included working with directors like Joseph L. Mankiewicz, John Ford, Jack Smight, Franklin J. Schaffner, and John Huston. His ability to transition from a child star to a respected adult performer set him apart in the industry.

Roddy McDowall possessed a fascinating duality; the contrast between his youthful looks and worldly-wise poise defined his unique charm and quiet intensity.

He was noted for his expressive eyes and articulate dispatch, which were instrumental in conveying a wide range of emotions. Roddy McDowall was intelligent and witty and often brought sharp intellect and a keen sense of humor to his roles, delivered with impeccable timing. McDowall was praised for his ability to mask feelings and convey restraint, even as a child actor. As an adult performer, he was characterized as “unpredictable,” which suggested a dynamic and varied approach to his roles. Critics noted his reliability as an actor, describing him as “always dependable.”

McDowall’s performances were subtle and nuanced: his approach to acting was all about restraint and introspection rather than over-the-top dramatics, at least in his earliest work. His acting was emotionally authentic, bringing a palpable sincerity to his characters and allowing audiences to connect with them on a profound level. Even in roles like Planet of the Apes, navigating the constraints of elaborate makeup, he transformed physical limitations into artistic opportunities. His performance transcended mere mimicry, embodying the character through a masterful blend of precise gestures and subtle nuances. Playing Cornelius in the Planet of the Apes series, he masterfully balanced intelligence, empathy, and subtle humor.

Continue reading “The Curious Charisma of Roddy McDowall: A Life in Art and Film” →

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #26 The Beast With Five Fingers 1946

THE BEAST WITH FIVE FINGERS 1946

The Beast with Five Fingers is a 1946 American mystery-horror film directed by Robert Florey (Murders in the Rue Morgue 1932), who was very fluent in television of the 1950s and ’60s, including Boris Karloff’s Thriller and Alfred Hitchcock Presents. It is based on the 1919 short story of the same name by W. F. Harvey, which plays into the disembodied hand trope. The screenplay was written by Curt Siodmak, known for his work on other horror classics like The Wolf Man (1941) and I Walked with a Zombie (1943).

The film stars Robert Alda, Andrea King, Victor Francen, and Peter Lorre. It tells the story of a retired concert pianist, Francis Ingram (Francen), who lives in a large manor house in turn-of-the-century Italy. After Ingram’s mysterious death, strange events begin to occur, centered around his seemingly animated, disembodied left hand.

The Very Thought of You: Andrea King in 4 Fabulous Unsung Film Noir Gems!

The plot revolves around the reading of Ingram’s will, which leaves everything to his nurse, Julie Holden (King), much to the dismay of his relatives. As tensions rise, a series of murders occur, apparently committed by Ingram’s severed hand. The film builds suspense through a combination of psychological horror and supernatural elements.

Peter Lorre, as usual, delivers a standout performance as Hilary Cummins, Ingram’s secretary and astrologist, who becomes increasingly unhinged as the story progresses. The film’s score was composed by Max Steiner, adding to its eerie atmosphere. Steiner, “the father of film music,” composed scores for some of the most iconic and epic Hollywood films of the 20th century. Here’s a summary of his most notable works: King Kong 1933, Gone With the Wind 1939, Casablanca, and Now, Voyager 1942. Over his career, Steiner composed more than 300 film scores and was nominated for 24 Academy Awards, winning three.

The Beast with Five Fingers was Warner Bros.’s only foray into the horror genre in the 1940s and marked Peter Lorre’s last film with the studio. The movie is notable for its innovative special effects, which bring the disembodied hand to life through various techniques. Warner Bros. pianist Victor Aller performs the piano pieces featured in the film, whose hand is shown playing throughout the movie.

Despite initial reluctance from the cast due to concerns about the film’s title sounding like a “campy B-Movie,” the actors were eventually won over by the fascinating script. The production was not without its lighter moments, as Peter Lorre was known for playing practical jokes on set, once causing filming to be canceled for a day due to his antics. Sara Karloff shared with me that Lorre enjoyed a good practical joke with his other colleagues, her father Boris, and other co-star Vincent Price on the set of The Raven 1963.

Over time, The Beast with Five Fingers has grown in popularity and is now considered a classic of its genre. It even inspired Charles Addams’s creation of the character Thing in The Addams Family. While it may not be as frightening by today’s standards, the film remains a chilling and memorable entry in the horror genre of the 1940s.

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MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #13 Before I Hang (1940) / The Man They Could Not Hang (1939)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

BEFORE I HANG 1940

This medical science gone wrong horror thriller directed by Nick Grinde stars the incomparable Boris Karloff, who plays the kindly and sympathetic character of Dr. John Garth, a physician seeking a serum that will fend off the aging process. Garth is placed on death row for conducting a mercy killing but is permitted to pursue his experiments with his serum on the other inmates’ blood while secretly testing it on himself. His colleague, Dr. Ralph Howard (Edward Van Sloan), helps with his research. Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy, Dracula’s Daughter 1936). They inject Garth with the experimental serum taken from one of the executed murderers, a man who was criminally insane. Though Garth murders his colleague and a prison trustee, he manages to fool them into giving him a pardon for his work as a humanitarian. Dr. Garth emerges as a Jekyll and Hyde personality, becoming a homicidal killer. One of the best early chillers utilizing the very morbid yet enthralling idea that blood has its own consciousness. This concept will be used in films later on down the road, acting on the same premise that the human body, blood tissue, and bone retain the memory of the criminal whose body they belonged to—pulsing with a life force unique to that singular identity.

B-movie queen Evelyn Keyes plays Garth’s daughter Martha. Don Beddoe is Capt. McGraw and Bruce Bennett (Mildred Pierce 1945 Dark Passage 1947) plays Dr. Paul Ames.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG 1939

Boris Karloff is Dr. Henryk Savaard, a scientist working in the field of medicine who is searching for a means to prolong life. His experiments employ a mechanical heart to revive his subjects after they’ve been pronounced technically dead. Medical student Bob Roberts (Stanley Brown) volunteers to be the first subject of Dr. Savaard’s experiment. Savaard’s nurse, Betty Crawford (Ann Doran) Penny Serenade 1941, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers 1946), is frantic about her boyfriend Bob submitting to this and calls the police. They arrest Dr. Savaard for killing his assistant, and he goes to trial.

Dr. Savaard tries desperately to explain his altruistic intentions to the jury, but he is found guilty and sentenced to hang. Savaard has instructed his assistant Lang (Byron Foulger) to bring him back from the dead using his methods with the mechanical heart. Soon after, mysteriously, six members of the jury who have convicted Dr. Savaard wind up committing suicide by hanging themselves. The other six jurors, the judge, prosecutor, police inspector, and nurse Crawford are invited to Savaard’s house so that he can exact his revenge!

Lorna Gray plays Savaard’s daughter, Janet; Charles Trowbridge plays Judge Bowman; and Don Beddoe plays Police Lt. Shane—one of Karloff’s great sympathetic scientist thrillers with wonderful atmospherics in this other Nick Grinde B-movie classic.

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MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #12 Bedlam (1946) & The Body Snatcher (1945)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

BEDLAM (1946)

A Symphony of Dark Patches- The Val Lewton Legacy 1943

bedlam

Bedlam 1946 is Val Lewton’s visually haunting condemnation of mental asylums. Mark Robson directs Boris Karloff in perhaps one of his most vicious roles as the sadistic Master George Sims. Challenged by Mistress Bowen (Anna Lee) for his cruelty and inhumane treatment of the inmates, Sims orchestrates her confinement to Bedlam as she tries to reform the horrible conditions of the place. Stunning and brutal, Bedlam is the most savage story in the Lewton canon. It is a wonderful appearance by character actor Ian Wolfe, who always brings a bit of perspicacity to any film.

Boris Karloff’s performance in Bedlam (1946) is a masterclass in chilling restraint and psychological menace. In my opinion, it is perhaps among his finest and most complex screen creations. As Master George Sims, Karloff trades the Gothic excesses of his more famous monsters for a quiet, brooding authority, a malevolent figure who rules the asylum with wit as sharp as his cruelty, a presence simultaneously polite and terrifying. This is highlighted in the infamous “gilded boy” dinner party, as he expresses glee and a vicious delight, striking not simply for its horror but for the way Karloff infuses Sims with chilling plausibility and hints of perverse enjoyment.

What’s mesmerizing is how Boris Karloff channels both icy calculation and flashes of wry, almost courtly charm, rendering Sims a portrait of domesticated evil by candlelight, an administrator whose sinister schemes and subtle tyranny keep the film taut with dread. Even in the climactic reversal, when the inmates turn on their tormentor, there’s an uneasy pathos to Karloff’s final moments: his gaze flickers between defiance and abject horror as retribution literally walls him in. Karloff’s turn in Bedlam is truly villainous, rather than merely misunderstood, where he transcends archetype to deliver a performance that feels eerily real, haunted, human, and disturbingly close to home. His performance feels uncomfortably familiar or relevant, resonating on a personal or societal level rather than as a distant, purely fictional level of horror. It’s not theatrics but the haunted precision of his gestures and long, deliberate silences that define the role, and elevate Bedlam itself above mere historical horror into something genuinely unsettling.

Bedlam (1946), as one of Val Lewton’s extraordinary visually poetic psychological horror films in his collection for RKO Pictures, is perhaps one of his darkest poems. Val Lewton, known for his stylish horror B-films, co-wrote the screenplay under the pseudonym Carlos Keith, maintaining his approach to horror with a focus on psychological tension and suggestive shadows rather than overt supernatural elements.

The film, which would be the last collaboration with Boris Karloff and his final film for RKO, with the great actor commanding the screen with a deranged subtlety as Master George Sims, the cruel apothecary general of St. Mary’s of Bethlehem Asylum, and Anna Lee as Nell Bowen, a spirited reformer who seeks to improve the conditions for the asylum’s inmates, and the mistreatment of mental health patients in the 18th century.

Set in 1761 London, the film was inspired by William Hogarth’s painting series “A Rake’s Progress,” with Hogarth receiving a writing credit. The story follows Nell Bowen’s efforts to reform the notorious asylum, leading to her own commitment by the sadistic Sims.

Bedlam features several dramatic scenes that highlight the cruelty of the asylum and the tension between Nell Bowen and Master Sims. One of the most shocking scenes involves the “gilded boy,” where a young inmate painted in toxic gold performs for Lord Mortimer’s (Billy House) party, only to collapse and die from the poisonous paint while the callous partygoers and wealthy patrons revel in the spectacle of the poor boy’s suffering. This scene vividly illustrates the callousness of Sims and wealthy patrons toward the inmates’ dire struggles.

The cinematography by Nicholas Musuraca contributes significantly to the film’s atmospheric quality, employing chiaroscuro lighting techniques typical of Lewton productions. The set design, utilizing the church set from The Bells of St. Mary’s (1945), adds to the film’s gothic ambiance.

THE BODY SNATCHER 1945

The Body Snatcher (1945) is a chilling horror film directed by Robert Wise and produced by Val Lewton, set in 1831 Edinburgh. Karloff gives a tour de force, nuanced performance as John Gray, a sinister cabman who moonlights as a grave robber and murderer.

The film also features the sophisticated Henry Daniell with his concrete, chiseled, austere face as Dr. MacFarlane, a physician tormented by his past and Gray’s machinations to make money any way he can. Beloved Bela Lugosi appears in the film as Joseph, a blackmailing servant, and has a notably small role, marking the last on-screen collaboration between the two horror legends.

The story, based on Robert Louis Stevenson’s work, follows Gray’s increasingly disturbing methods of procuring cadavers for Dr. MacFarlane’s medical school, leading to a psychological battle between the two men that culminates in a haunting climax.

Boris Karloff’s performance as John Gray in The Body Snatcher (1945) is a haunting embodiment of malevolent cunning and psychological depth. Karloff crafts Gray not as a mere villain but as a complex figure: a grave robber and occasional murderer who carries himself with a sinister charm that both fascinates and unsettles us to the core. His portrayal balances menace with a sly, almost sardonic humor, making Karloff’s Gray a character whose presence dominates every scene he inhabits without ever falling into caricature.

Karloff masterfully reveals the creeping rot of guilt and amorality beneath Gray’s calculated exterior. His physicality, the gaunt makeup paired with his piercing, icy stare, heightens the sense of impending doom that accompanies his every stalking move. Much like Bedlam, it’s a blend of cruelty and charisma, underscored by sudden bursts of violence that shock precisely because they feel disturbingly real and not exaggerated.

The performance benefits from Karloff’s ability to convey layered motivations; Gray oscillates between ruthless pragmatism and an eerie, almost perverse delight in his grim trade. Karloff’s Gray is not just a dark presence but a pivotal force that personifies the film’s exploration of moral decay and desperation amid the grim conditions of early 19th-century Edinburgh.

Ultimately, it’s not hard to see that Karloff’s Gray is a magnificent study in villainy, one that is chilling because it feels organic, something that Boris Karloff is a master at cultivating, crafted with a precision that transforms a simple tale of grave robbing into a psychological thriller with a lingering emotional punch. It’s a performance that showcases Karloff’s range beyond his iconic monsters, marking The Body Snatcher as one of the dark gems in his storied career.

Some key scenes include the murder of the young street singer, which highlights Gray’s ruthlessness. Gray’s tormenting of Dr. MacFarlane in the pub, revealing their complex history, and the chilling carriage ride finale, where MacFarlane hallucinates Gray’s corpse coming to life. Robert Wise’s direction and Lewton’s emphasis on the pyshcological terror rather than explicit horror fix this in his legacy as a stunning masterpiece, a film that explores the ethical dilemma faced by medical schools in the 1830s when legal cadavers were scarce. This shortage led to a grim trade in illegally obtained bodies by graverobbing, blurring the lines between scientific progress and criminal activity. The story draws inspiration from the real-life Burke and Hare murders of 1828, which also adds a layer of authenticity to the narrative.

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MonsterGirl's 150 Days of Classic Horror! #10 Baby Yaga (1973) / Necromancy (1972)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

Baba Yaga, Devil Witch (1973)

TAM LIN 1970 & BABA YAGA 1973 – Ava Gardner & Carroll Baker: THE FAERIE QUEEN"¦ & VALENTINA'S DREAM: Two Hollywood icons in search of mythology. Part 2

The sensual Carroll Baker (Baby Doll 1956, Something Wild 1961) who later became one of the queens of the Euro-Exploitation realm (The Sweet Body of Deborah 1968, Paranoia 1969, So Sweet… So Perverse 1969, A Quiet Place to Kill 1970, The Devil Has Seven Faces 1971) inhabits the role of Baba Yaga.

Based on Guido Grepax’s ‘Valentina,’ a pornographic comic, the film is less about the trope of good vs evil and suggests more the exploration of the heroine’s ‘body’ and the consumption of pleasure and pain. Isabelle De Funés is Valentina, a photographer who falls under the spell of a bewitched camera, and the sapphic enchantress Baba Yaga who desires to possess her. The film is filled with surreal imagery, erotic reveries, and sadomasochistic fetishism. Ely Galeani (A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin 1971) plays the living doll.

Necromancy, aka The Witching (1972)

Necromancy with Orson Welles

A little overview of Pamela Franklin’s career is below:

BRIDES OF HORROR – Scream Queens of the 1960s! Part 1

SPOILER ALERT!

Directed by Bert I Gordon, leaves behind gigantism for a moment to delve into satanism. Orson Welles is Mr. Cato, a practitioner of the dark arts and leader of a coven in the small town of Lilith, who desperately wants to bring his dead son back to life. He seeks out Pamela Franklin, who plays Lori Brandon, a girl who has the power to help him raise the dead. When she and her husband, Frank (Michael Ontkean), move to Lilith, guided by the lure of a new career, Lori finds out, much to her horror, the true reason behind Cato’s motives. There are some very atmospheric moments, with the ghost of a little boy that taunts Franklin and some eerie exterior camera work by Winton C. Hoch (The Quiet Man 1952, The Searchers 1956, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea 1961, Robinson Crusoe on Mars 1964, and including the 1966 TV series Lost In Space). It also stars Lee Purcell as Priscilla.

The chilling conclusion of Necromancy (1972) involves Lori being buried alive during a necromancy ceremony to resurrect Mr. Cato’s dead son. However, this disturbing ending is revealed to be a nightmare, only for Lori to awaken and realize she’s experiencing déjà vu, suggesting that her dream was actually a premonition of events yet to unfold.

The Fantastically Huge World of Mr. B.I.G: Bert I. Gordon – An Intermission with special guest blogger GoreGirl!

A deeper dive…Necromancy Unearthed: Journey Through Lilith’s Dark Heart:

Necromancy (1972), sometimes subtitled A Life for a Life or later re-released as The Witching, is a moody, obscure relic of 1970s supernatural horror cinema, starring Orson Welles and Pamela Franklin amidst a surreal, cult-haunted landscape. Directed by Bert I. Gordon—best known for larger-than-life, effects-driven B-movies such as The Amazing Colossal Man—Necromancy marked a shift for the director, moving from atomic creatures to the eerier, more psychological territory of occult and witchcraft, utilizing slow-burn suspense and surreal visuals courtesy of cinematographer Winton C. Hoch. Hoch, whose previous credits included vivid Technicolor spectacles, here turned his camera toward overcast, shadowy compositions that steep the film in a disquieting pallor, fitting for a story in which nothing is quite what it seems.

The film opens with a tragic jolt: Los Angeles housewife Lori Brandon (Pamela Franklin) wakes in a hospital beset by grief, having just lost her child in a stillbirth. Her husband Frank (Michael Ontkean), seeking a fresh start, accepts a mysterious job in the northern California town of Lilith, yes, that Lilith often associated with witchcraft. It should have been a clue- Lilith’s legend is a fascinating blend of ancient mythology and later folklore, she’s often described as Adam’s first wife who refused to be subservient, leaving Eden to become a figure of defiance and independence. Her story weaves together themes of rebellion, autonomy, and the supernatural, making her both a symbol of female empowerment and a mysterious spirit shrouded in ancient, shadowy myth.

Frank takes the job working for a reclusive and eccentric figure named Mr. Cato (Orson Welles). As the couple makes their way into Lilith, they witness a terrible accident, setting the tone of unease. Stranded, Lori wanders into a foggy field and discovers a gravestone beneath an old tree, triggering a surreal vision of a child’s funeral, a vision that will encircle much of the film’s narrative like a shroud.

Arriving in Lilith, Lori and Frank quickly sense the oddness of the town, which Mr. Cato rules with absolute authority. Upon settling in, Lori and Frank are hosted at a dinner by their odd, imperious new boss Cato, who hints at the supernatural undertones of Frank’s new assignment and gifts Lori a grimoire. The town, Lillth, is ringed by youthful, attractive inhabitants, all seemingly in thrall to Cato, and all apparently bound together by an occult legacy.

Priscilla (Lee Purcell), one of Cato’s alluring followers, alludes to Cato’s lost son, Timothy, and Cato soon reveals his desire to conquer death itself, through necromancy, the forbidden art of raising the dead. He believes Lori holds the key to this ancient power. Lori, born with a caul (en caul), has psychic gifts suited for the task of bringing Timothy back to life, a point emphasized in a flashback showing Lori reviving a drowned girl by will alone.

The house Lori and Frank moved into formerly belonged to Jennie (Barbara Peckinpaugh), whom they saw die in the car accident, further deepening the mystery and menace.

Lori grows increasingly agitated by visions, whispered secrets, and Cato’s omnipresent influence. Frank drifts away, both emotionally and physically, as Lori is drawn into the coven’s grasp. She resists an “initiation” ritual held at a party that morphs into a ceremonial ordeal, amplifying the film’s dreamlike, quasi-psychedelic tone. After sighting the ghostly Timothy, Lori is lured into her basement, where she is attacked by rats—one of several harrowing, hallucinatory sequences.

The plot tightens as town conspirators Dr. Jay (Harvey Jason) and Priscilla reveal Lori’s role as a sacrificial substitute for Timothy. A frantic succession of events follows: Lori seeks out her husband, only to learn from the treacherous Nancy (Sue Bernard) that Frank has left her, when in fact he is entangled with Nancy herself. Priscilla, expressing regret, promises Lori an escape, but is found drowned before she can act. The narrative twists further as Lori is subjected to more and more frightening visions. Lori is then confronted with the truth: the cult plans a necromancy ritual, using her as a “life for a life” to bring back Timothy. In the film’s climax, Lori stumbles into a midnight necromantic ritual at Timothy’s grave, where the cult prepares to bury her alive to resurrect the boy.

In a nightmarish sequence, she is buried alive in claustrophobic intensity, only to suddenly awaken, as if from a dream, in her car. Frank reassures her, but she is seized by a haunting sense of déjà vu; the film closes on the suggestion that her “nightmare” is either a premonition or an endless cycle of fate. Gordon’s cyclical, reality-blurring twist is the film’s closing note, of trauma never quite resolved.

Orson Welles’s performance is simultaneously grandiose—of course, what you would expect from the actor—and deeply weary, at times mumbling incantations. Reviews often note his interpretation of the role as both compelling and somewhat disengaged. Still, the character might have devolved into cartoonish excess in other hands.

Pamela Franklin, familiar to genre fans for The Legend of Hell House, And Soon the Darkness, and Satan’s School for Girls, brings Lori with a haunting vulnerability that lends the picture emotional weight and cohesion during the wilder moments.

Franklin centers the film with a sense of psychological fragility and intensity, a trademark she mastered with delicacy yet with a powerful presence. Pamela Franklin always radiates an exquisite tension between tender fragility and burning intensity—her performances feel simultaneously nuanced and unyielding, always captivating with hauntingly poetic balance.

Michael Ontkean, known for his role in the 1970s cop show The Rookies, is effective enough as Frank, though his character is more functional than memorable.

At the time of its release, Necromancy received predominantly poor reviews, cited for its confusing plot, lack of tension, and what some critics saw as unfocused direction and performances. Some, like myself, appreciate its atmospheric production design. Perhaps it carries that unmistakable 1970s made-for-TV movie vibe popular at the time with its low-key, a touch quirky, and charmingly creepy, despite its budgetary restraints, not to mention the enigmatic presence of Welles and the mesmerizing lure of Franklin. Later re-releases and cult viewings brought renewed interest, especially for the film’s moody, uncanny aesthetic and its portrait of occult paranoia. Critical reception at the time noted the film’s plot holes and sense of narrative drift, but some of us appreciate its technical polish and solid production values given its low budget.

Later, Necromancy achieved a degree of cult admiration for its oddness, brooding atmosphere, and the sheer curiosity of seeing Welles and Franklin together in the fog-bound, ritual-haunted town of Lilith. In one significant reissue, Necromancy was retitled The Witching and expanded to include extra nudity and rituals, a sign of both exploitation film marketing and changing tastes in 1980s horror. In more recent decades, its psychedelic strangeness and uncanny mood have led to reconsideration within lists of top occult horror films.

Ultimately, Necromancy remains a minor artifact of ‘70s horror, a phantasmagoric, deeply flawed, yet visually memorable tale of loss, occult obsession, and the inescapable pull of the past, haunted by the lingering presence of its stars and the ghost of horror cinema’s own changing ambitions that the 1970s ushered in.

#10 Down, just 140 to go!-Your EverLovin’ Joey formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #8 The Amityville Horror 1979

 

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

THE AMITYVILLE HORROR 1979

The Amityville Horror is a 1979 American supernatural horror film directed by Stuart Rosenberg (Murder Inc. 1960, Cool Hand Luke 1967, The Laughing Policeman 1973). The story is based on the alleged experiences of the Lutz family, who moved into a house in Amityville, New York, where a mass murder had occurred the year before.

The film stars James Brolin as George Lutz and Margot Kidder as Kathy Lutz, the newlyweds who purchase a house so cheap it is too good to be true. Rod Steiger, as Father Delaney, comes in contact with the dark energy in the house that ultimately destroys the poor priest after being attacked by flies and told to GET OUT! by a nefarious, growling voice.

It follows the Lutz family as they move into their new home and begin experiencing a series of disturbing paranormal events, including George waking up at 3:15 AM – the time of the DeFeo murders. Doors that blast off the hinges with force, blinking red eyes at the window, devilish flies, black sludge, and a demonic entity – Jody the Pig.

The backstory of the true event involves the DeFeo murders, where Ronald DeFeo Jr. killed six members of his family in the house in 1974 when he blasted them with a shotgun. The Lutz family moved in a year later but ultimately fled after only 28 days, leaving everything behind, claiming to have experienced severe paranormal activity.

The Amityville case has been the subject of significant controversy. While the Lutz family maintained the truthfulness of their experiences, many have speculated that the story was fabricated for financial gain. Some investigators, including the psychic/demonologists the Warrens, supported the Lutzes’ claims, while others dismissed the case as a hoax. The debate continues to this day, with conflicting accounts and investigations casting doubt on the veracity of the alleged hauntings.

#8 down 142 to go! Your EverLovin Joey, formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl.

THE PRICE OF DECADENCE AND LIBERATION: Seduction and Isolation: A Dual Journey Through Queens of Evil 1970 and L’Avventura 1960 Part 1

Le Regine 1970 (Queens of Evil) : A Psychedelic Descent into Darkness in 1970’s Euro-Horror

READ PART 2 L’AVVENTURA HERE

SPOILER ALERT:

Seduction and Surrealism: Unraveling Queens of Evil:

Queens of Evil (1970), directed by Tonino Cervi (Today We Live, Tomorrow We Die 1968, Nest of Vipers 1978), is an atmospheric Italian horror film that blends elements of psychedelia, eroticism, and supernatural horror. The film, also known by its Italian title Le Regine, or Il Delitto del diavolo presents a thought-provoking allegory on the clash between counterculture ideals and traditional societal norms that is an infusion of high fashion – psych-folk horror- pastoral fantasy and dreamlike isolation, much like Tam Lin 1970, The Wicker Man 1973 and Psychomania 1973.

The film is part of a niche cinematic sub-genre that blends pastoral fantasy with elements of folk horror, set in the late 1960s to early 1970s. These films juxtapose high fashion with mature fairytale narratives, featuring unconventional behavior and a darkness of spirit, creating a unique atmosphere that merges glamour with nature’s mystique.

The narrative follows a young motorcyclist named David (Ray Lovelock) who encounters three mysterious and seductive women living in a secluded house in the woods. As David becomes entangled in their world, the film explores themes of temptation, freedom, and the darker aspects of human nature.

As part of obscure cult cinema – Cervi’s Queens of Evil (1970) is a beguiling cinematic oddity that makes it hard to define. This dark adult allegory, often categorized as Italian horror, is closer to a gothic fable of dark enchantment. A hypnotic sojourn into a world of counterculture critique, psychedelic imagery, and gothic fairy tale elements; at its core, it presents as a cautionary tale wrapped in the guise of a surreal nightmare, much like Bava’s 1973 fantasy horror – Lisa and the Devil in its broad chimerical brush strokes and its use of vivid hallucinatory illusion rather than a conventional narrative.

Tonino Cervi, a versatile Italian filmmaker who straddled the worlds of directing and producing, left his mark on cinema from the 1960s through the early 2000s. While his directorial efforts like the middling spaghetti western TODAY WE KILL…TOMORROW WE DIE! and the provocative nunsploitation film THE NUN AND THE DEVIL were notable; his true legacy lies in his exceptional work as a producer. He collaborated with some of Italy’s most celebrated directors, including Bernardo Bertolucci on THE GRIM REAPER and Michelangelo Antonioni on RED DESERT, released in 1964, premiering at the Venice Film Festival. He also worked on the landmark anthology BOCCACCIO ’70.

An Italian counterculture gem that will resonate with fans of the surreal and absurd, Queens of Evil is a vibrant and flamboyant film. It offers an enjoyable experience in its own eccentric way as Cervi’s direction blurs the lines between reality and fantasy, guiding viewers through a labyrinth of seductive illusions and hidden dangers.

The film’s hypnotic atmosphere, punctuated by moments of startling beauty and unsettling horror, serves as the connective tissue that binds its disparate elements into a cohesive whole. The surreal, phantasmagorical quality, coupled with its exploration of masculine desires and fears, elevates Queens of Evil beyond mere Euro-exploitation/horror, transforming it into a mesmeric journey through the subconscious. The languid pacing and oblique storytelling may alienate viewers seeking more conventional thrills. However, for those willing to surrender to its peculiar rhythms, its calm before the storm, the film offers a rich synthesis of ideas and images that linger long after the credits roll.

Queens of Evil is a cult classic for a reason. It invites us to rewatch with fresh eyes and sparks conversation, which is what cult films often do best. It manages to deviate from the trend of gothic horror by focusing on a more contemporary setting and themes, finding its place within counterculture cinema. Though the film does blend some aspects of gothic horror, its ruthless psychological gamesmanship elevates Queens of Evil beyond mere psychedelic pastiche and counterculture themes, which sets it apart from the more traditional Italian horror film.

In the context of Italian horror cinema, Queens of Evil emerged during a transitional period in the 1970s as it saw a decline in the pure gothic Italian horror genre, with the industry shifting towards Giallo films and occult-themed movies inspired by international successes like Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist.

Italian horror cinema significantly evolved during this period, moving from traditional gothic horror narratives to more contemporary, psychologically complex, and socially relevant themes. This shift reflected the rapid changes in the late 1960s and early 1970s cultural landscape.

The Vietnam War, social unrest, the rise of the counterculture, a lot was happening. People started to question those old systems of power and authority—complex ideas about society, power, and the human condition.

Queens of Evil reflected this transition, blending traditional gothic elements like the eerie villa and isolated setting but retaining a very contemporary look and feel. The film explores the era’s anxieties surrounding the prevalent counterculture and societal upheaval, mirroring the turbulent zeitgeist of its time.

The film draws parallels to fairy tales, with David comparing the house to “Snow White’s house,” setting up a dark fairy tale account. This comparison enhances the symbolic nature of the women as enchantresses or witches.

Along with the essence of an intensely bleak tale, it definitely possesses a duality. Queens of Evil manages to be both beautiful and repulsive. Echoing everything from ancient Greek myths to classic literature and the Bible. The dark hypnotic twist makes this film unique and trippy, as David is supposed to be the symbol of freedom, but then he falls under the Queens’ spell so easily. Maybe those hippie ideals were a little naive.

David represents the young idealists who rebel against the status quo yet remain vulnerable to corruption when his deepest longings are awakened.  Ray Lovelock stars in this enigmatic tale as the lone hippie, David. Lovelock is a charismatic bad boy with a sculpted physique. As David, he is lavished with adoration by the sisters within an idyllic setting until he is ultimately led as a lamb to the slaughter.

The French actress Haydée Politoff during the filming of the movie El gran amor del Conte Dracula’, directed by Javier Aguirre, 1972, Madrid, Spain. (Photo by Gianni Ferrari/Cover/Getty Images).

Among his co-stars are Haydée Politoff, of the Eric Rohmer films THE COLLECTOR (1967) CHLOE IN THE AFTERNOON (1972), and also Count Dracula’s Great Love (1973). His other co-stars are Silvia Monti of A LIZARD IN A WOMAN’S SKIN (1971) and THE FIFTH CORD (1971); and Ida Galli, whose credits include LA DOLCE VITA (1960), HERCULES IN THE HAUNTED WORLD (1961), THE LEOPARD (1963), THE WHIP AND THE BODY (1963), THE PSYCHIC (1977) and many others.

At the heart of the film, Lovelock’s David is a mix of naivety, angelic beauty, and charm. David embodies the ideals of the hippie movement – freedom, non-conformity, and a rejection of materialistic values. His motorcycle journey through the Italian countryside serves as a metaphor for the counterculture’s quest for enlightenment and escape from societal norms. However, David’s idealism is quickly put to the test when he encounters the titular “Queens.”

Imagine David, the story’s doomed protagonist; he’s a free-spirited cruising through the Italian countryside on his motorcycle. It sounds idyllic, but we know there’s a twist coming. Like David in Queens of Evil, riding his steel horse down open roads, it draws a clear parallel to Peter Fonda’s iconic role as Wyatt in Easy Rider (1969). The open road becomes a metaphor for the search for personal freedom and meaning. Both films feature protagonists who embody the late 1960s and early 1970s counterculture ethos, using motorcycles as symbols of their desire for freedom and rebellion against conventional society.

In Easy Rider, Wyatt (Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) embark on a cross-country motorcycle journey, encountering various aspects of American culture and facing hostility from those who oppose their lifestyle. Similarly, David in Queens of Evil encounters mysterious and potentially dangerous characters during his travels who also oppose what he stands for.

A striking parallel exists between the archetypal narratives of wayward, virile ‘princes’ or studs ensnared within a pastoral paradise and the insatiable, evil Queens (i.e., Ava Gardner in Tam Lin) and seductive sirens who seek to possess them. This clash of archetypes, the untamed masculine spirit versus the ruthless feminine intellect, reflects the deep-seated cultural anxieties and preoccupations surrounding the nature of power, desire, and the fear of women’s primacy in particular, as with Tam Lin, older women’s primacy.

TAM LIN 1970 & BABA YAGA 1973 – Ava Gardner & Carroll Baker: THE FAERIE QUEEN"¦ & VALENTINA'S DREAM: Two Hollywood icons in search of mythology. Part 1

Tam Lin and Queens of Evil feel akin to the psychedelic folkloristic cinema, which captures that brief moment when fashionable trends were turning towards folklore motifs. Films thrive on a strong narrative, and legends are fed by things that are false and things that are true.

From the mythic sirens to folkloric temptresses, male protagonists throughout literary and cultural narratives have repeatedly found themselves ensnared by seductive forces that promise liberation but ultimately threaten destruction.

For example, the Sirens from Greek mythology in Homer’s Odyssey are creatures who lure male sailors to their doom with their enchanting songs. Odysseus had to be tied to his ship’s mast to resist their temptation. The story of Pinocchio features a place called Pleasure Island, where boys are lured with promises of fun and freedom, only to be transformed into donkeys. Some versions of Sleeping Beauty depict the prince being lured into danger by the sleeping princess’s beauty. In certain folklore, creatures like Succubi or some interpretations of vampires specifically target and lure men.

These stories often serve as cautionary tales, warning against the dangers of temptation, curiosity, or naivety. They reflect the consequences of unchecked desires.

Continue reading “THE PRICE OF DECADENCE AND LIBERATION: Seduction and Isolation: A Dual Journey Through Queens of Evil 1970 and L’Avventura 1960 Part 1” →

A Trailer a Day Keeps the Boogeyman Away! Darkness Unleashed!

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!

Grease To Grit: The Unforgettable Journey of Adrienne Barbeau -Part 2 Including My Interview!

Read Part 1 HERE

Adrienne Barbeau: A Bold New Chapter in 70s Television:

In the 1970s, television actors like Adrienne Barbeau faced significant barriers when transitioning to feature films; no one would consider hiring you, as the prevailing mindset was – why would audiences pay the price of a movie ticket to see an actor when they could just turn on their television and see them at home, for free.

Adrienne had a steady job from July through February every year and worked in New York for eight years prior without having had an agent, but once nominated for a Tony, she signed with Marvin Josephson at the Agency for the Performing Arts who negotiated the deal for Maude.

When she moved to L.A., her journey through various agencies was tumultuous and marked by a series of coincidences. She was told that she should be doing other things than Lear’s television series, like the popular viewing experience at that time, for instance, the movie of the week.

Adrienne meets Johnny Carson for the first time in a 1973 guest appearance.

Adrienne, during her 1976 hiatus from Maude, was now working with the Creative Artists Agency (one of the industry’s most powerful firms at the time). She demanded a commission for a gig opening for Roy Clark at Harrah’s, which she secured directly from Clark’s manager despite the fact that singing engagements were not part of her contract. She changed agencies once again.

Mike Ovitz, the cofounder of Creative Artists Agency (Ovitz transformed the negotiation of major deals in film, TV, music, and corporate media from the 1970s to the 1990s), was a major male chauvinist who considered women – “˜chattel.’ This was another reason she didn’t feel comfortable being represented by CAA.“Every time we spoke on the phone, I hung up, enraged or in tears. He didn’t have a clue, of course.”

Adrienne Barbeau on the gameshow in 1974 hosted Dick Clark with Tony Roberts appear on The $10,000 Pyramid New York NY ABC Studio Elysee Theater – Photo by ABC getty images-1231784707.

The Tonight Show – Adrienne Barbeau, John Wayne, Bing Crosby, Bob Hope with host Don Rickles: photo by Fred Sabine 1974 NBC UNIVERSAL via Getty Images.

Adrienne started singing again and appearing on live talk shows. Working on The Tonight Show was a big career boost, and she did many interviews with Johnny Carson. Adrienne recounts in her book how the co-originator working on the pre-interview for Carson’s show would scream and put pressure on Adrienne to show up early. It made her break out in hives. However, all the other cohosts, including Roy Clarke and George Carlin, were wonderful. Singing was the hardest part of her various guest appearances. She hadn’t sung since Maude’s telethon episodes or Grease.

Adrienne Barbeau as Daisy in the television biopic The Great Houdini in 1976.

In 1976, Adrienne Barbeau appeared as Daisy White in her first TV movie, The Great Houdini, which is a slight supernatural dramatization of the life and the rise to fame of the iconic magician and escape artist. The movie starred Paul Michael Glaser (80s television’s sensitive action hero cop Dave Starsky) as Harry Houdini and featured Adrienne as his beautiful assistant. This TV movie included Ruth Gordon and Peter Cushing. Adrienne had no scenes with these two great actors, so she didn’t get to spend any time with them. However, she did know Sally Struthers because of her work as Gloria on Norman Lear’s All in the Family. It also features Vivian Vance, who played Ethel Mertz, Lucy’s loyal and comedic sidekick in the iconic comedy series of the 1950s, I Love Lucy.

“The first job they (Creative Artists Agency) got me was Houdini, a TV movie with Paul Michael Glazer and Sally Struthers; I was to play Houdini’s mistress. After I accepted the offer, the agent called back to say they wanted to do a semi-nude scene for the European release. I was so concerned about being shot only from the waist up and no one seeing my big butt that it never dawned on me to ask for more money. The agent didn’t either. Mike Ovitz was one of the partners in the film. This was the 1970s. I was a strong believer in the Equal Rights Amendment.”

from an interview with The Terror Trap in 2010-“It was the first film I had ever done and I knew nothing about film. I had only done stage and tape up until that time. We did Maude the same way you do a stage play. We just rehearsed for 4 1/2 days and then did it for an audience straight through, no stops or anything. So we did the master…the first establishing shot… on Houdini… and I didn’t know that people did close-ups. I went off and started to change clothes to do the next scene! It was my first film experience and a real learning process.”

Adrienne has appeared in many TV movies, particularly Crash in 1978. One of the little details out of so many I found interesting in reading her memoirs was one of the only things that sticks out about working with director Barry Shear on that film. He was a screamer; he constantly yelled at everyone on the set and cursed up a storm. As Veronica Daniels, the shattered stewardess in a minor disaster flick, Adrienne once again shows that she is a very serious actor.

“I think I was hired for a Quincy. If anyone is old enough to remember, Quincy, and I played a dramatic role there. Then suddenly, oh ok, she can do drama. She can do comedy. She’s a TV actress, but in 1978, feature producers did not think that anyone would pay to see a television actor on the big screen. So, no movies were coming my way. You know, because she’s on TV.” (from There Are Worse Things I Can Do)

Adrienne met John Carpenter in 1978 when he was casting his first network television film after Warner Bros hired him to write the screenplay and direct Someone’s Watching Me!

Her agent called and told her that this young, up-and-coming director wanted to meet her. She read the script and thought it was one of the best scripts for television that she had read. Adrienne wound up auditioning for the part of Lauren Hutton’s best friend and was offered the role. Carpenter was funny and relaxed, and she instantly felt at ease. There was an instant attraction. Her memoirs include a colorful description of her first meeting and the intense relationship that ensued with John Carpenter. Again, There Are Worse Things I Could Do is a must-read.

“He watched me in Maude, liked the character I played, and was hoping I had her same sensibilities; It was that kind of character he wrote, the Howard Hawks-type woman. Strong, smart, quick, witty. He was nervous it was his first studio film, and he was having to answer to “the suits.'” (Pg 14)

In one of director John Carpenter’s earlier works after his first feature film, Dark Star, in 1974, Someone’s Watching Me! 1978 was his television debut. This TV movie is a well-crafted woman-in-peril TV thriller centered on obsession, voyeurism, and the fragility of safety in urban life. It stars Lauren Hutton as Leigh Michaels, the lead heroine, a TV director who is under surveillance by a voyeur who is stalking her in her L.A. high-rise apartment. Originally titled High Rise and filmed in eighteen days, it was also scripted by John Carpenter; it is a bit of a tribute to Hitchcock’s Rear Window 1954 and would showcase a number of the director’s techniques that would emerge in his subsequent films. In particular, his gliding camerawork, point-of-view shots, and unexpected shock cuts.

Someone’s Watching Me! was based on a Sun-Times story called “Terror in a High-Rise” by Paul Galloway and Basil Talbott Jr. The story was about a woman living in a high-rise apartment who believed she was being spied on in her home and threatened by an anonymous stalker, which led to her suicide.

Adrienne Barbeau’s character is somewhat of a transformational role for a made-for-TV movie in 1978 because she is a lesbian who was treated very matter-of-factly. Adrienne ends up getting thrown off her apartment balcony while Lauren Hutton watches helplessly through her telescope.

Leigh (Lauren Hutton) becomes terrorized by threatening phone calls and letters from a mysterious man who seems to know her every move as she tries to convince the police that she’s in danger.

Adrienne Barbeau plays Sophie, Leigh’s co-worker and friend, who is casually revealed to be a lesbian during a conversation about ex-lovers. Being Leigh’s supportive friend – Sophie steps in to help her deal with the growing threat, and it gets her killed for her trouble.

Adrienne’s performance has been praised for its lack of sensationalism and is considered pretty progressive for a 1978 television. Sophie has been recognized as an early example of positive queer representation in media. “The first scene I did for John Carpenter in Someone’s Watching Me! was a scene where I revealed to Lauren Hutton that I’m gay. John wrote it beautifully.”

Adrienne herself has spoken positively about her role in interviews, acknowledging the significance of playing a casual, positive lesbian character in a 1978 TV movie, especially given the era in which it was produced. This was one of Adrienne Barbeau’s first collaborations with John Carpenter before the couple married, and she would go on to star in her first feature film.

To Adrienne, after years of doing musical theater and a major TV sitcom, the idea that she can “˜do less,’ those two words made all the difference in terms of the work she was now doing

“It wasn’t until I did my first film. It was with John Carpenter, and it was a television film called Someone’s Watching Me! Up until that point, I had done a massive amount of stage work, and I had been on the sitcom Maude. I had been in television movies, which were usually with a director who’s not taking the time to adjust your performance. So, we did the first scene, and John came over and said, ” That was great. That was great. Let’s do it again and do less. I said Do less?” And all of a sudden, it was like, okay, that’s the last piece of the puzzle. That’s the light bulb going off.

I had been working on stage for most of my life, It’s a film, not stage, not a four-camer sitcom. Even situational comedy on Maude, we did it like a play. We did it for an audience. And now, John was telling me how to let the camera do the work and keep it small. So, I added that to my education.”

“All I knew about John was that he made horror movies; I’d heard about his Assault on Precinct 13, I think. I walked in expecting some kind of hard-boiled guy, and here was this sweet, salt-and-pepper, gentle man… I think I began to fall in love with him right then and there. But I heard that he was seeing somebody else, and so all during the filming of Someone’s Watching Me!, I kept my distance, and I tried to discourage my emotional feelings.”

“And then, on the last day of shooting, John said he wanted to have dinner with me and discuss something. I thought maybe it was his next screenplay. He sat down and said, ‘I’ve fallen in love with you.’ Well…we were married Jan. 1, 1979.” (Interview with Roger Ebert)

The couple wed and moved into the Hollywood Hills section of Los Angeles, purposefully remaining “totally outside Hollywood’s social circles.” (Roger Ebert) They remained together for five years but separated shortly after the birth of their son, John “Cody” Carpenter, on May 7, 1984. The couple divorced later that year.

1979 marked a pivotal year in John Carpenter’s career, propelling him to new heights of success. His film Halloween, released on October 25, 1978, became a box office phenomenon in 1979, establishing itself as the most profitable independent production in Hollywood’s history at that time. At the time the couple was starting out, and before his breakthrough, Adrienne had been the more prominent figure because of her Broadway success with Rizzo in Grease and her long-standing role in Maude. Halloween opened new doors for John Carpenter, which led to a lot of industry interest, getting calls and offers, and this newfound recognition translated into tangible opportunities and elevated his status in Hollywood. Now, he was able to secure financial backing for his next project, The Fog, in 1980.

The Fog is based on Carpenter’s idea that nothing more than a horror movie could be made with Fog as a leading character, and it provided Adrienne Barbeau with her first major movie role. But first, a year after Someone’s Watching Me! Adrienne appeared in another spooky made-for-TV movie.

Adrienne Barbeau and Robert Foster in the television horror/sci-fi flick The Darker Side of Terror 1979.

In an early foray into horror, before Adrienne Barbeau introduced us to Stevie Wayne in Carpenter’s The Fog, she appeared in the television movie, The Darker Side of Terror, a chilling chronicle of scientific hubris and a potentially intriguing doppelganger scenario, which crept onto television screens on April 3, 1979. At its heart lurks the aging Professor Meredith, played by Hollywood great Ray Milland, who by this time became his own brand of the cantankerous curmudgeon trope in these types of B-horror/sci-fi narratives. In this movie, his unorthodox ambitions lead him down a twisted path; with a daring act of genetic manipulation, he creates a carbon copy of his star pupil, a brilliant young academic, Paul Corwin (Robert Forster). The only way you can tell the difference between the two Pauls is when the clone’s eye suddenly turns a ghostly white as sudden, murderous impulses strike him.

After Paul’s clone escapes from the lab, he falls in love with Adrienne, playing Paul’s unsuspecting and neglected wife, Margaret, who becomes seduced by Paul’s doppelganger, unaware that all this newfound passion and attention is coming from the wrong man.

Adrienne Barbeau stars with Greg Mullavey, Jessica Walter, and Ronny Cox in the TV movie Having Babies 1976: photo by ABC via Getty images-1228129255

Adrienne Barbeau in THE LOVE BOAT Hollywood Royalty/The Eyes of Love/ Masquerade 1978 seen here with Juliet Mills ABC Photo Disney via Getty Images.

Adrienne’s other credits: Her appearances in 1970s television movies and series, including the TV movie Having Babies in 1976, the TV movie Red Alert in 1977, and the TV movie Crash in 1978. She also appeared in an episode of Eight is Enough in 1977 and a very intense episode called Let Me Light the Way for Jack Klugman’s popular television series Quincy, ME 1977. On the light side, she appeared in episodes of The Love Boat in 1978 and Battle of the Network Stars in 1978.

In Adrienne’s autobiography, she said, “I actually thought CBS asked me to be on Battle of the Network Stars because they thought I was athletic. My husband clued me in: Who cared if I won the race, as long as I bounced when I ran?”

Adrienne Barbeau: The 1980s and The Rise of a Horror Icon:

Adrienne at Avoriaz le 20 Janvier 1980: photo by Jean-Louis URLI/Gamma-Rapho Getty images-1753991732.

Continue reading “Grease To Grit: The Unforgettable Journey of Adrienne Barbeau -Part 2 Including My Interview!” →