Category: Directors and Filmmakers

Under the Radar: The Unseen Side of Film Noir – Part 1

Dennis O’Keefe and Marsha Hunt in Anthony Mann’s Raw Deal 1948.

While iconic film noirs grab our attention, films like Out of the Past, where Jeff Bailey’s (Robert Mitchum) past catches up with him lured by the complex and dangerous Kathie Moffet (Jane Greer), and while there’s nothing hotter than the steamy affair between Frank and Cora (Garfield and Turner) in The Postman Always Rings Twice, or watching Walter Neff’s (Fred MacMurray) descent into murder and deception lured by the wiley Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck) in Double Indemnity. It’s no wonder these masterpieces have rightfully earned their place in cinematic history, yet there’s a whole alleyway of shadows, both literally and figuratively, that have flown under the radar. Well worth watching, these lesser-known noir gems are waiting to be discovered.

Films like The Sniper (1952), Raw Deal (1948), and Act of Violence (1948) offer gritty and challenging narratives and are begging for a bit of attention. These overlooked classics showcase the genre’s versatility, exploring themes of psychological torment, moral ambiguity, and the consequences of violence. The Sniper delves into the twisted psyche of a disturbed war veteran turned killer. Raw Deal presents a gritty tale of escaping the past, desire in flux, and redemption.  Act of Violence examines the lasting impact of wartime choices on civilian life. These underappreciated noirs prove that the genre’s shadowy allure extends far beyond its most celebrated titles. I wanted to celebrate Noirvember by peering into the more obscure corners of the genre!

SPOILER ALERT ?

1-The Sniper 1952


The Sniper is a dark psychological film noir that explores the troubling story of Eddie Miller, a disturbed delivery man with a deep-seated hatred of women. Directed by Edward Dmytryk and shot on location in San Francisco, particularly in the Telegraph Hill area, the film was written by Harry Brown and based on a story by Edna and Edward Anhalt. The cast features Adolphe Menjou, Arthur Franz, Gerald Mohr, and one of noir’s finest femme fatales – Marie Windsor, who Eddie thinks played him for a poor sucker.

The Sniper unfolds like a fever dream in the burning, daylit streets, and shadowy streets of 1950s San Francisco. It is a haunting exploration of a fractured psyche teetering on the edge of madness and the manhunt that ensues.

Arthur Franz plays the unbalanced Eddie Miller, who feels compelled to kill women. When he tries to get help for himself, he is met with a lack of interest and sent back out into the world. Miller is a man whose inner demons have twisted his view of women and, evidently, a mother who is hinted at as someone he despises so severely that he finally breaks down and begins a killing spree, targeting them from rooftops throughout the city.

Adolph Menjou plays Lt. Kafka, a gruff and unmerciful policeman who is assigned to the case. As he investigates the killings, Lt. Kafka begins to see the full picture as he tracks down the troubled Miller, figuring out that the murders are not just sexually motivated but stem from a profound psychological fracture and a desperate cry from a mind splintering under the weight of unresolved trauma. Finally, cornering Miller in a cheap hotel, the cops close in. They force their way into his lightly barricaded room and find him surrounded by a small arsenal of weapons. The look on his face shows that he’s relieved it’s finally over. Dmytryck shows his visual flare reminiscent of his earlier noirs, including Murder My Sweet 1944, Cornered 1945, and Crossfire 1947.

Edward Dmytryk’s obscure noir masterpiece plunges us into the tortured world of veteran Miller, who harbors a darkness that threatens to consume him. His voyeuristic gaze, windows to a soul in turmoil, flickers with barely contained rage when he glimpses couples in intimate moments It’s as if their happiness is a personal affront; each romantic glance is itself a gunshot wound to his fragile ego. He perceives every woman he comes in contact with as being untrustworthy and brash.

In a moment of anguished self-awareness, Miller presses his hand to an electric stove, a desperate attempt to cauterize the emotional wounds that fester within and keep himself from projecting his rage outward. But the pain of other’s apathy only fuels his descent into madness, and soon, the city trembles under the shadow of his M1 carbine. As bodies fall and panic grips the streets, Miller’s twisted game of cat-and-mouse with his anonymous notes sent to the police takes on a surreal quality as he begs to be caught before he commits more murders, aware of his sins but powerless to stop himself.

Dmytryk, fresh from his own battles with the Hollywood blacklist, testifying before the House Un-American Activities Committee, infuses the film with a palpable sense of paranoia and urban alienation.

Miller’s crimes reflect the moral ambiguity of a society grappling with hidden threats. The Sniper  delves into the murky waters of criminal psychology, pioneering profiling techniques that would become staples of the genre. Yet it’s the film’s unconventional ending that truly subverts expectations with the after-the impact of its structured violence and ends with the non-violent denouement of Miller’s surrender and society maintaining the status quo. More than just a thriller, The Sniper stands as a chilling indictment of a society ill-equipped to deal with mental illness, its streets teeming with walking wounded like Miller, in the shadows of post-war America in the 1950s.

“The characters found in The Sniper exist in a netherworld that permits humanitarian speculation to surface through scenes of humiliation and angst.” – (from Film Noir an Encyclopedia Reference to the American Style edited by Silver & Ward)

Los Angeles was experiencing their own version of a lone male ‘phantom sniper’ Evan Charles Thomas, stalking female victims, targeting them at random from a sniper’s vantage point the previous summer.

This must have heightened audiences’ fears when watching an eerily similar serial killer-themed film noir. While The Sniper was not directly inspired by the Thomas case, its release coincided with a real-life sniper incident in Los Angeles, creating an eerie parallel. The film’s story had been acquired by Stanley Kramer Productions from writers Edna and Edward Anhalt several months before Thomas began his shooting spree. Interestingly, Arthur Franz was cast as the sniper on August 27, 1951, the same day as Thomas’s first shooting. Despite the film’s independent origin, its producers recognized the potential to leverage the public’s interest in the ongoing sniper case. They capitalized on this coincidence in their marketing efforts, emphasizing the film’s relevance to recent events.

This strategy, aimed at drawing audiences by highlighting the film’s timeliness and apparent realism, was too close for comfort even though its conception predated the actual crimes.

“L.A. saw it happen!” the local ad for the film blared. Chief of Police Bill Parker was said to have signed a letter praising the film’s realism in its “handling of intensive methods” to track down the killer. In his review, Scheuer noted, “The parallel is too close for comfort, but even without the similarity between Eddie Miller and an alleged local “sniper” the picture would be distasteful.” (Source J.H.Graham)

E.R. doctor: Were you ever in a mental hospital?
Edward Miller: Only when I was in prison.

 

Police Lt. Frank Kafka: All I have to do is catch him.
Dr. James G. Kent: You’ll catch ’em, and they’ll kill ’em, and everyone will forget about it. . . that is until the next one comes along. Then it will start all over again.

Continue reading “Under the Radar: The Unseen Side of Film Noir – Part 1” →

A Tale of Two Spirits- The Haunting of Windward House: A Study of Gothic Horror in The Uninvited 1944

Retrospective reviews have continued to hold the film in high regard, with Carlos Clarens calling it ” the best and most unusual” horror film of 1944 in his book An Illustrated History of the Horror Film.

“ The supernatural is dealt with seriously in this dynamic, suspenseful melodrama, chock full of fine acting that will hold audiences glued to their seats for its entire 93 minutes…
Once in, they’ll like it, but getting audiences into the seats to stay “glued” there was less than a dead cert due to the film’s “unusual and controversial subject.” — Review from the 5 January 1944 issue of Variety.

In his review of The Uninvited for The New York Times, Bosley Crowther remarked that while the film features a “glaring confusion in the wherefore and why of what goes on,” it effectively showcases the talents of its cast, particularly noting that Ray Milland and Ruth Hussey “do nicely as the couple who get themselves involved” and praising Gail Russell as “wistful and gracious” in her role.”

Paramount’s The Uninvited 1944, MGM’s The Haunting 1963, and Twentieth Century Fox’s The Innocents 1961 stand as the finest examples of achievements in the realm of sophisticated supernatural cinema to come out of Hollywood in the forties. Horror in the 1940s were overwhelmingly monster movies, considering Universal’s trend, which was characterized by a blend of classic literary monsters and folktales and their more modern reinterpretations, such as Dracula, Frankenstein, and werewolves. The Gothic ghost story has had quite a resurgence in the past few decades and has become its own genre.

All three of the aforementioned Gothic supernatural films are ‘gravely’ serious and refined visions that tell a subtext or deeper meaning about inner psychological conflict and the path of self-discovery, which is effectively brought to life by the presence of ghosts and spirits. Therefore, while on the surface, the films appear to haunt the screen as a well-crafted ghost story, they also delve into meaningful themes that reach beyond their supernatural framework and their sense of the otherworldly.

These films represent a departure from typical ghost stories, offering nuanced, psychologically complex narratives that delve into the human psyche. These narratives are particularly powerful when amplified through the Gothic aesthetic.

With its cold earnestness, Lewis Allen’s stunning prototype of an authentic cinematic ghost story doesn’t expose the uncanny happenings as a mere gimmick perpetrated by human design to misdirect and obscure mischief. These ghosts are very real and dangerous.

Right off the bat, the movie gained attention for being above other horror films —as an early example of “elevated horror” or “higher bracket horror pictures,” as Jack Cartwright wrote at the time.

Hollywood normally sprinkled its ghost stories with a generous dose of comedy or as a subterfuge devised to cover up some criminal operations. Four years earlier, Paramount released the Bob Hope comedy classic The Ghost Breakers; the horror/comedy subgenre shifted to a lighthearted tone characterized by antics with the ‘it can all be explained away by the end of the picture’ flare. We can see this type of over-the-top carnival horror in pictures pulled off by showman William Castle in the 1950s & 60s, with House on Haunted Hill and 13 Ghosts.

Paulette Goddard and Bob Hope in The Ghost Breakers 1940.

Kay Hammond, Rex Harrison and Constance Cummings in Blithe Spirit 1945.

The Uninvited is an innovative approach to the supernatural Hollywood horror formula. It takes a bold stance by presenting these elements as genuine occurrences rather than comedic devices or plot misdirections and was considered “unusual and controversial” at the time, setting it apart from lighter iterations like Blithe Spirit or Topper, refraining from the campy theatrics typical of its predecessors. Allen’s film can be regarded as the first major Hollywood motion picture that transformed ‘ghosts’ into something malignant and threatening.

Gary J. Svehla’s The Uninvited essay in Cinematic Hauntings states: Hollywood’s glib attitude toward ghosts – perhaps they quickly became the caricature of human beings wearing a white sheet in two-reel comedies or the comical howling spirits of Disney cartoons, the ghost in Hollywood has never been taken seriously enough. Hollywood’s attraction to the ghost movie genre has largely been tongue-in-cheek with early thirties encounters between spooks and Laurel and Hardy, the Three Stooges, and the robust, demented Little Rascals. Even the MGM late thirties version of A Christmas Carol, featuring disembodied spirits of the spookiest nature, still managed to keep the proceedings moralistic, tidy, and safe (even fun).

Svehla cites the Halperin Brothers’ deadly serious pre-code horror Supernatural 1933, starring Carole Lombard, as one of the first mature ghost movies. It is still an obscure gem barely remembered today.

The Uninvited emerged as a pivotal work in the supernatural thriller canon, marking a significant shift in the genre’s trajectory, opting for a nuanced exploration of spectral phenomena that would redefine the genre.

This 1944 Paramount picture starred Ray Milland, one of its top stars, and Ruth Hussey, best known for her Oscar-nominated performance as Best Supporting Actress in The Philadelphia Story 1940.

Directed by the English-born Lewis Allen, with over thirty West End productions to his credit and several successful Broadway shows as well, he established himself as a prominent figure in theatre until he went to Los Angeles and joined Paramount.

In his directorial debut, Allen masterfully adapted Irish writer and activist Dorothy Macardle’s 1941 novel Uneasy Freehold, renamed The Uninvited, for its U.S. publication.

While his repertoire includes films like The Unseen 1945 (also a Dorothy Macardle adaptation which made it to the screen a year later), Desert Fury (1947), the atmospheric noir So Evil My Love (1948), and the tense thriller Suddenly (1954), it’s The Uninvited (1944) of all his moody offerings; it’s the film that stands out as his crowning achievement. Paramount allocated a substantial budget and assembled a talented cast for the production, resulting in a successful hit!

Joel McCrea and Gail Russell in The Unseen 1945.

Though more of a continuation of the theme rather than a literal sequel, Lewis Allen directed the follow-up, The Unseen (1945), also starring Gail Russell, this time playing a governess – echoing the Gothic themes of The Innocents (1961).

“As we think about The Uninvited today, its production tells us a lot about why it remains so culturally significant. When producer Charles Brackett bought the rights to Dorothy Macardle‘s 1941 novel, he had Alfred Hitchcock in mind to direct. Hitchcock had made Rebecca a year earlier in a similar fashion to what Brackett imagined The Uninvited could be: moody, gothic, and haunting. Brackett met with Hitchcock, who read the book but could not direct it due to scheduling conflicts. Hitchcock did give some suggestions to Brackett, but whether or not he used those suggestions is unknown.” – from The Original Ghostly Thrills of ‘The Uninvited’ published October 26, 2021, by Emily Kubincanek, senior Contributor for Film School Rejects.

The Uninvited will certainly resonate with admirers of Hitchcock’s adaptation of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca 1940, sharing some of its elements of psychological suspense and haunting ‘spirits’ from the past. Both stories explore parallel themes that center around the ‘afterlife’ influence of the idealized woman/wife revered as the epitome of perfection who casts a long, malevolent shadow over a pure-hearted girl.

Dame Judith Anderson and Joan Fontaine in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca 1940.

It’s a complex blend of a psychological thriller and the obvious supernatural horror, blurring the lines between the tangible and the specters of the afterlife. It’s also a harmony of melodrama and Gothic romance, drawing inspiration from films like Rebecca; The Uninvited utilizes gothic elements such as a foreboding mansion and a sense of lingering past trauma. In addition to that, the murder mystery structure is a story in which Ray Milland and Ruth Hussey uncover clues about past events and dark family secrets as they investigate the haunting.

Allen clues us in on the uncanny phenomena by using sound, melancholic sobbing is particularly powerful, and other unseen forces to suggest a supernatural presence—such as intense cold, the lingering scent of perfume, and an overwhelming sense of oppressive sadness. This likely had a significant impact on another iconic film about a haunted house: Robert Wise’s The Haunting 1963.

Ray Milland was cast as the sophisticated Rick Fitzgerald, who seeks to lighten the tense atmosphere with his comedic flair—a skill playing the charming everyman he frequently showcased in his roles as a romantic lead. That same year, he co-starred with Ginger Rogers in the romantic musical drama Lady in the Dark and Fritz Lang’s spy thriller Ministry of Fear.

“He’s been described as an existential Cary Grant, and his performance here captures that sentiment perfectly. Ultimately, though, the comedy here feels more like genre residue, the persisting remnants of a past cycle that championed comedy over horror in a film pushing new boundaries of otherworldly terror. It’s in the film’s most haunting, stylized moments that it feels most grounded and self-assured.” — from Caleb Allison from the 2021 essay Erotic and Esoteric : The Uninvited as Queer Cult Film.

In her debut role, Gail Russell’s performance as the twenty-year-old Stella Meredith is the driving force of the film, making her character a pivotal element of the story. In her first leading role, Russell masterfully embodies Stella’s complexities; her portrayal captures the essence of a true Gothic heroine, as she combines vulnerability with courageous spirit, gentility with a rebellious heart throughout the picture. She is ideal – haunted and consumed.

She brings a feverish intensity as a waif longing for her mother, who spirals into a state of desperation as a young woman under a spell.

The role of Stella Meredith is widely regarded as one of her best and played a significant role in establishing her as a star in Hollywood. With The Uninvited, and for a brief time during the 1940s, Gail Russell’s spellbinding, ethereal beauty, which trade magazines compared to Hedy Lamarr, the film captured the essence of what might have been for the talented actress, showcased in films like Frank Borzage’s Moonrise 1948. The Western, Angel and the Badman (1947) featuring John Wayne and once again alongside Wayne in the South Seas adventure Wake of the Red Witch (1948). She also starred in John Farrow’s noir/psychological horror film Night Has a Thousand Eyes 1948, co-starring Edward G. Robinson.

Gail Russell and John Lund in Night Has a Thousand Eyes 1948.

From the time she started out at the age of 19, Gail Russell fell victim to the ravages of the Hollywood star factory and descended into a tragic life of alcoholism. Withdrawn, anxious, and out of place for the Hollywood hustle, she drank to calm her nerves while on the set of this movie.

Russell suffered from pathological shyness, preferring to have lived a reclusive life as an artist. Her mother pushed her into an acting career, wishing to exploit her sensual good looks to move the family up in class. It is an ironic twist that she plays a young woman in the grip of her mother’s controlling influence.

By the time she appeared in Budd Boetticher’s Seven Men from Now in 1956, alcoholism had taken a toll on her once-stunning looks, and her career was nearly at an end. Tragically, she passed away in 1961 at the age of thirty-six due to complications related to her drinking.

The screenplay, brimming with intelligence and wit, was written by Frank Partos, a staff writer for both Paramount and RKO, and Dodie Smith, the established playwright and children’s author known for The Hundred and One Dalmatians, which itself was infused with a few Gothic elements. Partos had often worked with Paramount Producer Charles Brackett, who often collaborated with Billy Wilder.

According to Emily Kubincanek, Partos was “ Only available because he’d turned down co-writing Double Indemnity 1944 because he felt the morally challenging plot of that classic noir was too ‘sordid’ and bound to violate the Hays Code.”

Continue reading “A Tale of Two Spirits- The Haunting of Windward House: A Study of Gothic Horror in The Uninvited 1944” →

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 1

READ PART 2 HERE:

From Rizzo to Scream Queen – Adrienne Barbeau’s Candid Memoir There Are Worse Things I Could Do Reveals the Woman Behind the Role of Icon:

I have been a huge fan of Adrienne Barbeau since she appeared on television in the role of Bea Arthur's daughter Carol on the hit 1970s sitcom Maude. Maybe it was her raw authenticity that transcended the TV role; maybe it was her natural sensuality, her sharp jawline, glass-cutting cheekbones, and deep brown eyes. Growing up in the sixties and "˜70s, Adrienne Barbeau’s energy immediately drew me in. I care and recognize the contribution of her work across her long career.

I'm also one of those fans who is still steaming over HBO's cancellation of the dramatic and surreal series, Carnivàle. Adrienne's portrayal of Ruthie was not at all surprisingly captivating and jaw-dropping, watching her channel the grit of a wise and weathered soul who dances with Boa constrictors. Adrienne Barbeau's vivid presence embraced the curiosity of this extraordinary show and its transformative storytelling. And there is nothing more evocative and stirring than the sound of Stevie Wayne's smokey tones over the airwaves of KAB in John Carpenter’s The Fog. She sets the mood for one of cinema’s most haunting visions rolling in from the sea.

All I can say is that I'm beyond excited and extremely grateful to Adrienne Barbeau"”this legendary actress, performer, vocalist, author, and now trapeze artist! for granting me an interview amidst her busy schedule while on location shooting her latest project. She is so incredibly gracious with her time to answer my involved questions and sharing with us her perspective on life and her extensive career.

First of all, I can't urge people enough to read Adrienne Barbeau's memoirs There Are Worse Things I Could Do. She is a richly talented storyteller. Her memoir had reached No. 11 on the Los Angeles Times bestseller list in 2006.

In a cheerful, whimsical way, Adrienne Barbeau narrates her life story not only of her wandering existence as an all-around performer but as a versatile, strong, and self-possessed woman.

Her memoirs are witty and self-effacing; it is a lively, joyous, hilarious, intimate account of this genuine actress's life. She shares her adventures, not only her journey as a talented performer (acting & singing) & writer but also the authenticity and raw honesty with which she relates her funny, at times poignant experiences in the search for self-reflection and self-confidence. She boldly talks about her romantic relationships and her long-lasting friendships, both professional and private, putting a hilarious spin on her intelligent, personal narrative. I devoured the book in just two days, captivated by her vivid anecdotes, and it also offers a fascinating glimpse into the industry.

"Wow!! Adrienne, like Mame, has LIVED!!!! And like Candide, she emerges unscathed, as dear as she was when she began. But what a wild ride!!!" – Bette Midler

"There Are Worse Things I Could Do, says Adrienne Barbeau, but she couldn't do anything better than writing this delightful memoir." – Norman Lear

"I've rarely read a "˜Show Biz' autobiography that made me feel as much affection for the speaker." – George Romero

There is so much to take in, from growing up on a farm in California to life at 15 when she unriddles in the dramatic entries of her journals the depth of her teenage angst, philosophizing, and the deep thoughts of a young dreamer with intellectual wanderlust.

Adrienne Barbeau and cast in the Broadway production of Grease, 1972 photo courtesy of Playbill.

Adrienne reflects on her time in the original Broadway production of Grease as Rizzo, a role that helped launch her career. The book offers candid details about her relationships, the tumultuous romance with Burt Reynolds, and her second marriage to Billy Van Zandt in 1992. The couple divorced in 2018. It also tells the story of having twins when she was 54, giving birth to her sons Walker Steven and William Dalton Van Zandt.

Adrienne Barbeau Avoriaz, le 20 janvier 1980. (Photo by Jean-Louis URLI/Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images)

Adrienne Barbeau recounts with her readers, behind-the-scenes stories from various productions, including The Fog, Escape from New York, her work on Carnivàle, and more, including her working relationship with director and ex-husband John Carpenter that lasted from 1979 to 1984, working with directors George Romero and Wes Craven, and the grueling physical challenges due to budget cuts that forced constant script changes and challenging shooting conditions that she faced during the filming of his sci-fi fantasy Swamp Thing. All three films and HBO’s TV series have attained cult success.

Adrienne Barbeau and Swamp Thing 1982 courtesy of Embassy Pictures.

Adrienne also discusses her voice acting work in animated features like Catwoman in Batman: The Animated Series and shares a few hilarious misadventures, such as filming on location for the low-budget Burial of the Rats 1995 in war-torn Russia.

Adrienne Barbeau also talks about her debut album released in 1997, the self-titled Adrienne Barbeau, showcasing her versatility further. It's a great collection of country, blues, jazz, and pop tunes she performs in her concert appearances across the country. She went on tour, performing in concerts across the West Coast and Vegas.

She rounds out the book by discussing how prolific she’s been with her series of urban fantasy novels, the first of which was Vampyres of Hollywood, published in 2008.

Her official website is here. Her Instagram is here

The Accidental Scream Queen:

“You get typecast in Hollywood,” she said. “I think ‘Maude’ got everyone thinking I could only play comic women’s libbers. So in my TV work after ‘Maude,’ I did only drama. Now maybe ‘The Fog’ will help people think of me as slightly more versatile.”

The fluidity of labels. Labels are not fixed. The mutable nature of professional labels is challenging for actors who seek to redefine their artistic identities. In the dynamic landscape of the entertainment industry, an actor's perceived typecasting is often a transient construct, subject to evolution and redefinition. Actors are capable of transcending initial labels and reshaping industry perceptions. You can be many things all at once. It's what I call the; ‘Art of being many.’

She is considered a horror legend, yet she doesn’t have a strong affinity for the genre. She doesn't like to be scared, so it is ironic that she became a Scream Queen. It's also interesting that she wound up working with horror director royalty, the likes of John Carpenter, George Romero, and Wes Craven.

Adrienne Barbeau with director John Carpenter on the set of The Fog in 1979.

One reason she earned the title: “Also, because I was identified emotionally and socially with John Carpenter and because the first couple of films were "˜horror films.' Then I've got another label started out. (at first) Oh she's a musical comedy girl, then she's a comedienne. – TV wouldn't even see me for drama until I finally cracked that nut. Oh she's a TV actress, oh she's a film actress, oh but it's horror queen.” (interview with Ernie Manhouse 2015)

"I never set out to act in horror films specifically. I wasn't even aware of the genre, really. But I was offered the role of Stevie Wayne in The Fog, and in those days, if you were known for your work on television, you couldn't get hired to do movies. So when The Fog came along, I jumped at the chance. None of us knew, back in 1979, that the film would still be as much loved today as it was then." And as far as the 2005 remake goes? "I haven't seen the remake. Probably never will." (Jesse Striewski in an interview for Rewind It Magazine interview Oct 28, 2021)

Adrienne Barbeau’s career trajectory is a testament to her versatility and resilience in an industry often quick to pigeonhole its talent. She first captivated audiences on Broadway, showcasing her theatrical chops before pivoting to the small screen, where she honed her comedic timing in one of Norman Lear’s crucible sitcom television series – Maude. Because of her fluid ability to adapt – the series catapulted her to prominence as a feminist standard-bearer and "˜sex symbol' in popular culture.

Adrienne – On the set of The Fog in 1979 with director John Carpenter.

"The Fog was my first feature film. And I think in part because I was married to John by that time and in part because The Fog was a horror film or a fantasy or whatever you call it, ghost film that then the label came. Oh, she does genre movies. They didn't even say genre in those days. She does horror movies. She's a Scream Queen. But it hasn't followed me all the way through. I ended up doing comedies Back to School and Cannonball Run and a lot of stuff that god forbid anybody should see. Which I took for various reasons." – (from the Rue Morgue interview)

As she made the leap to cinema and throughout her journey commanding attention on the silver screen, Adrienne Barbeau’s vibrant presence defies simple categorization. Adrienne’s career arc saw her evolve from a feminist icon in television comedy and drama to a captivating film siren and serious actor who embodies sensuality, resilience, and strength always – with apparent ease. Yet, among the myriad roles she’s inhabited, one label has clung to her from her die-hard fans who have fueled her her image with particular tenacity: is that of Scream Queen. Being the symbol of the genre, far from being a limitation, has become a crown she wears with distinction, a lasting emblem that resonates with fans and cements her status in the pantheon of horror cinema.

However, her career is a vibrant legacy of reinvention, proving that an actor’s essence can be simultaneously multifaceted and as well as iconic.

When she arrived in Los Angeles after her Broadway success, she faced the challenge of industry typecasting. Her theatrical background led to her being labeled primarily as a stage actress. Her transition to television with her role in the sitcom Maude at that time further narrowed perceptions of her as she became widely recognized as a comedienne.

This pigeonholing created significant obstacles for Adrienne when she sought artistic growth and expanding talents to embrace dramatic roles. Yet once again, her success in comedy paradoxically became a challenge to overcome, as she tried to be taken more seriously for dramatic parts and not be limited by a perceived lack of range.

"Maybe I was typecast – I had labels put on me right from the beginning because I started as a musical comedy actress on stage on Broadway.”

Adrienne Barbeau proudly welcomes the designation of Scream Queen with pride; though she has openly acknowledged that she has no interest in watching horror films, I do not have a hard time imagining Adrienne Barbeau in a recurring role as an action hero or badass cop brandishing a formidable weapon. Or having her own television show playing a woman cop like Angie Dickincon's Police Woman.

Adrienne has recognized that she’s more geared toward action movies and thrillers, citing an appreciation for the psycho-sexual suspense masterpiece Alan J. Pakula's Klute 1971, which starred Jane Fonda as high-price call girl Bree Daniels.

Adrienne has stated that she believes part of the reason she winds up exploring the horror world is the volume of offers that keep coming her way, in contrast to other genres. These projects have enabled her to play an emotional spectrum and women survivors who wind up being the heroine and not the victim.

“Those are the kinds of roles I’m drawn to and that I tend to play better than the victim, who knows. Although I didn’t start out doing them. I started out on Broadway doing musical comedy. I was the original Rizzo in Grease, and so, that’s a far cry from where I ended up. But because my first feature was The Fog and it was a genre film, I identified with that genre and I love doing them when they’re good, when they’re well written.” (2020 interview with Coming soon.)

Rob Zombie, Malcolm McDowell, and Adrienne Barbeau on the set of his reiteration of Halloween 2007.

While she has an affection for the horror movies she has a relationship with, she turned down a role in Rob Zombie's The Devil's Rejects in 2005, voicing her opinion that it was just "˜too much' for her. Zombie's film has a hyper-violent and grotesque vision for the genre that has evolved through a very anti-philosophical lens. The genre’s evolution in contemporary terms has adjusted the mechanisms that constrain its focusing range on the relentless assault on our senses. There are classical horror films that have successfully balanced psychological terror and raw, visceral impact for the audience. If Adrienne Barbeau didn't like being scared before, she certainly wouldn’t want to be involved with a film that disturbs beyond mere catharthis of our collective fears.

Note: Zombie has cast notable, extremely talented classic actresses in his film The Lords of Salem, the other notable Scream Queens – Meg Foster, Dee Wallace, and Judy Geeson. While the casting coup of having Adrienne sign on to the project might have sweetened the pot for me, I still couldn’t bring myself to watch it.

Adrienne, as Stevie Wayne, warns Antonio Bay about the menacing fog.

Nothing about horror film narratives drew Adrienne to the genre initially. Aside from the horror films she had starred in, Adrienne never watched scary movies, not even Hitchcock's seminal thriller, Psycho, in 1960. So, in a big way, the genre sort of found her.

It wasn't until she starred in The Fog that she was offered these types of films. Adrienne has graciously come to embrace the title and has said that she is incredibly grateful and enjoys doing them when they're well-written. She even incorporated a Scream Queen character – Ovsanna Moore, the 500-year-old vampire. into her novels, showing her appreciation for the title.

Adrienne Barbeau poses on the red carpet at Scarefest in Lexington, Ky. Pablo Alcala 2010.

Even if she's not a horror aficionado herself, Adrienne Barbeau's impact on the horror genre is unmistakable. Her nuanced performances, intelligence, versatility as an actress, willingness to take on challenging roles, and commitment to her characters have established her reputation as one of the most respected and enduring, formidable presences as a Scream Queen in the history of the horror genre.

Adrienne Barbeau as Ruthie, the snake charmer in HBO Carnivàle.

"The characters have gotten older. That’s about it. I’m still attracted to strong women’s roles, sometimes the villain, sometimes the heroine, rarely the victim."

Regardless of whether she sought to attain the honored title or not, Adrienne Barbeau's reputation as a queen of horror is cemented across the cinematic and television landscape, from scholarly discourse to popular culture. There's a diverse array of voices in film scholarship and fandom consensus among a chorus of film critics, historians, journalistic critiques, aficionados, genre enthusiasts, and grassroots horror communities alike – affirm that Adrienne Barbeau fervently ranks high on the level of Scream Queen. Her credentials as horror royalty are unassailable, garnering unanimous recognition from the highlights of pop culture.

Whether by design or chance, Adrienne Barbeau has emerged as a celebrated figure of the realm.

Now that we got that out of the way, let's talk about the "˜art of being’ ‘many' other things.

Continue reading “Grease To Grit: The Unforgettable Journey of Adrienne Barbeau -Part 1” →

Unraveling the Knot: Don’t Look Now (1973) A Mesmeric Paradox of Grief in Uncanny Red: Part 2

Of Grief & Ghosts: The Plot of Don’t Look Now (1973)

“The story evolves like a mosaic with the important pieces missing, just like one of those that John is restoring. Not unlike how the dissolution of the sealing material destroys the structures in the church, the reality of Baxters' life is falling apart, too. These cracks either should be mended, or they allow the forces from beyond and under to creep through them. The latter is especially true for John with his gift of clairvoyance, although resisted, or maybe especially because he resists it.” "” from Film Obsessive article by Magda Mariamidze

“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.""” Gospel of Thomas

John (Donald Sutherland) and Laura Baxter (Julie Christie) bear the mark of a curse, a chilling revelation hinted at at the film's outset. Don't Look Now is a film about grief and loss. This is the most potent horror there is. Aside from the killings in Venice, it is these principles that are the true nature of this horror film. Roeg's masterpiece, the specter of death, and its companion grief are palpable and agonizingly real. The titles in quotations are baptized by the torrential British rain that licks the screen.

A Tragic Prelude: or In the Wake of Loss: The Opening of Don’t Look Now:

John Baxter: What are you reading?
Laura Baxter: I was just trying to find the answer to a question Christine was asking me: if the world’s round, why is a frozen lake flat?
John Baxter: Huh. That’s a good question.
Laura Baxter: [flipping through a book] Ah-ha. “Lake Ontario curves more than 3 degrees from its easternmost shore to its westernmost shore.” So, frozen water really isn’t flat!
John Baxter: Nothing is what it seems.

The juxtaposition of these images is Roeg’s way of highlighting the profuse symbolism consciously scattered throughout key scenes of Don’t Look Now. Here, I found a visible but not readily apparent cue signaling the dichotomy between the forces at work. Laura and the Red Devil, with their backs, turned to us.

Though it's a sunny day, we get a sense that it is a typically damp English morning mist in the yard of a country estate. The film cuts back and forth between the Baxters and their two children, playing outside by the pond. Christine and Johnny's parents are lost in a world of idle contentment within the house. The air hangs heavy with a bourgeois harmony. Both are tuned into their work, though, with an unhurried cadence.

Laura is reading Beyond The Fragile Geometry of Space, a book that can be seen on the sofa, so that she can answer Christine's question about the earth’s shape. John comments, " Nothing is as it seems."

Alongside du Maurier's narrative, the film begins with Laura investigating the answer to Christine's insightful curiosity: ” If the earth is round, why is a frozen pond flat?” This question highlights a paradox, as both statements can be seen as valid yet fundamentally contradictory.

The remnants of a lazy Sunday lunch linger: dishes abandoned, forks and knives scattered, while a thin ribbon of smoke rises from a forgotten cigarette in an ashtray, painting a picture of contented indulgence.

Their two young children, Johnny and Christine, continue to play around the pond on their bucolic property. Christine (Sharon Williams), an angelic little blonde girl in a shiny red Mac with the bright look of fresh blood"”red like a bleeding heart"”wanders around the pond pushing a wheelbarrow and chasing a bouncing ball. The sunny blue day surrounds the murky surface of the pond choked with reeds. The pond doesn't reflect the sky, but the water is like a mirror to Christine's red raincoat as she skirts her playful path. Meanwhile, her brother weaves through the trees on his bike, a silent fluttering moth against the verdant backdrop.

Christine’s playful moments with her ball create an unsettling visual dance. The little sphere, adorned with a crimson geometric design against the hazy day, seems to pulse and warp as it tumbles across the ground into the pond. This optical illusion subtly disturbs our perception, adding to the film’s undercurrent of unease without drawing attention to itself. She is holding her brother's toy soldier, Action Man, who, when you pull the string, possesses the recorded voice of a woman calling out strategic military commands.

As soon as Christine tugs the string on her doll, it utters, “Enemy 1000 feet…fall in.” In that instant, Johnny topples over his bike, is felled by a rock, and is cut by a shard of broken glass after he has ridden his bike over a pane of glass, shattering it beneath the with of his tires.

In this stunning opening sequence, architect John Baxter is prepping for a restoration of a church in Venice. He scrutinizes his projector loaded with slides"”of an Italian church. Laura Baxter reads her books, and John is studying his slides of the medieval church he will be reviving. He focuses on one slide, in particular, of a stained glass window; the façade of piety is splendid, with the figure of Christ adorned in red robes. However, he has no solid faith or spirituality of his own to cling to.

It is the shadowy corner of the slide that catches John's eye"”a small, enigmatic red form huddled in a pew, cloaked in a red coat and hood. The sight triggers a sudden, curious feeling. This intruding presence, small, perhaps childlike in appearance, becomes the catalyst for John's sudden, horrifying vision"”an intuitive warning to him that Christine is in danger.

John accidentally knocks over a glass of water and watches with curiosity as a red stain emerges from the small figure, like blood, creeping across the slide. A seemingly unremarkable mishap ignites an unsettling vision that John's mind conjures. The red figure melts into a disambiguated crimson swirl that coils around the church's stained-glass window. By the time it settles, it is almost fetal in shape; the veiled red figure, once a mere curiosity, now takes on a sinister aspect. A vision of Christine wearing the same evocative color, red, becoming submerged in the murky depths of the nearby pond.

He leaps to his feet and heads for the door. Laura asks him what is happening. "Nothing," he tells her.
Laura tosses a slide onto the book on metaphysics as the image continues to bleed.

John runs out of the house, hurls himself at the pond, past his son, his hand cut from the piece of broken glass; he screams, "Dad!"

When John reaches the water, it feels like it takes forever for him to reach Christine; frozen by his anguish, he then plunges in and pulls his red angel from the watery nothingness, her lifeless body wrenched up into his arms as he agonizes over her limp body with drenched blonde wisps. Roeg intercuts this moment of visual artistry with the harrowing sight of John trying to trudge through the water until he breaks through. Christine’s lifeless body is cradled in his arms as time and reality blur – in an unreadable mixture that will become past and present.

Continue reading “Unraveling the Knot: Don’t Look Now (1973) A Mesmeric Paradox of Grief in Uncanny Red: Part 2” →

Unraveling the Knot: Don’t Look Now (1973) A Mesmeric Paradox of Grief in Uncanny Red: Part 1

The basic tenet of horror movies – "˜ Nothing is as it seems "˜ and for me, Don't Look Now is a death of all certainties.

In the early seventies, when even mainstream films could be fearless and experimental, smashing taboos and taunting the censors, it was non-conformists who offered cinemagoing a uniquely intense experience.

 “Don't Look Now 1973 retains its power and mystery today thanks to Roeg's mastery of what Alfred Hitchcock famously called "pure cinema," manifest in his visual sleight of hand and, above all, in his refusal to be bound by the conventions of dialogue-driven narrative and simple chronology. All this has shaped a style that has justifiably come to be described as "Roegian."– (David Thompson: Seeing Red 2015 article CRITERION )

“Nothing is what it seems," says John Baxter, the protagonist of Don't Look Now, at the start of the film. The rest of the movie depicts the tragedy of Baxter's incapacity to apply this fundamental wisdom in his own life. "Nothing is what it seems" may be an untested platitude, but it's a truism when it comes to movies, and Don't Look Now is one of the great "movies-about-movie-watching" ever made. Primarily, it is about the act of perception itself"¦ By seeing an event that has not yet happened as something that is already happening (what-will-be as what-is), he (John) fatally confuses the signs and makes the future the past, i.e., irrevocable, inescapable. Like a movie stamped on celluloid, or the glimpse of the satanic dwarf on the slide Baxter is handling in the opening scene, he fixes something in time, and thereby turns life into death.""” (article – Jasun Horsley Cinephilia and Beyond)

"He was a genius, Nic. A visionary. He made a love scene between a grieving wife and herhusband with no cries of passion, no sounds of orgasm, no words. All you hear is Pino Donaggio's music as Nic intercuts their making love with them getting dressed to go out to dinner. Magical. You don't see that scene as a voyeur. You watch it and it reminds you of yourself, of you being loving and you being loved. We decided it would be wisest not to shoot John's death scene until we'd done everything else, in case the unreliable prop knife failed and my throat would be cut, spilling red. Fragmented, abstract images colour and tell his stories. Look at Omar Sharif on a camel, coming from the other end of the desert towards the camera. That's Nic. Look at the Sahara's empty foreground and suddenly the smokestacks of a steamer crossing from left to right along the unseen Suez canal. That's Nic. He was the was the first to use Panavision's R-200°, which meant he had 15 degrees more shutter for Don't Look Now than the 185°s that were the best before. He was everything I ever wanted from a filmmaker. He changed my life forever. Francine and I asked him if we could name our firstborn after him. He said yes. Our glorious son is named Roeg." -  (Interview – Donald Sutherland)

Continue reading “Unraveling the Knot: Don’t Look Now (1973) A Mesmeric Paradox of Grief in Uncanny Red: Part 1” →

Farewell to the King of the B’s: Cult Auteur Roger Corman dies at 98

"Now that we can create anything you can imagine with CG and technology, I think sometimes the special effects are emphasized over the story. It should still be about effects serving the narrative."

"”Roger Corman

For decades, Roger Corman was the Michelangelo of the B-movie, single-handedly painting hundreds of low-budget movies at the neighborhood drive-ins with titles like It Conquered the World, Attack of the Crab Monsters, Little Shop of Horrors, X The Man with the X-Ray Eyes, The Wild Angels and a title that lingers called The Terror which featured a handsome unknown Jack Nicholson. All were created at the fastest pace on the cheapest budget imaginable. And it could be said the trailers (and titles) were just as exhilarating as the features. But beneath the cheese resided a surprising truth: Corman was a godfather of American independent film who played a prominent role in launching the careers of directors such as Martin Scorsese, Jonathan Demme, Peter Bogdanovich, and Francis Ford Coppola.

Some of his most notable films were his adaptations of Edgar Allan Poe, which featured the hauntingly surreal art design by Daniel Haller and the Baroque magnificence of Vincent Price at the center of it all. About those masterpieces of the macabre to come!

Some of my most beloved memories as a kid growing up in the early 1960s are spending balmy afternoons exploring Corman's world. It's about time I paid tribute to his monumental contribution in the wake of his passing. And you know me… I’ll cover it all.

Read The Hollywood Reporter article here:

This is your EverLovin Joey saying: Keep an eye out here at The Last Drive In"”I'll be planning something special, it won't be cheap, and it won't be quick- not for the King of the B’s!

Feature & Interview with Iconic Actress, Dancer, and Photographer, Barbara Parkins

The Raven-haired sylph who: "walks in beauty like the night"¦ Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright; Meet in her aspect and her eyes"¦" "” Lord Byron

Barbara Parkins is an icon of the 1960s, appearing in two of the decade's most popular and legendary film and television productions.

Barbara's exquisite beauty is undeniable, but her captivating performances in Peyton Place and Valley of the Dolls truly secured her legacy in Hollywood history and our collective consciousness. As beloved – Betty Anderson in the television series Peyton Place and as Anne Welles in the notorious adaptation of Jacqueline Susann's sensational novel Valley of the Dolls (1967). These memorable roles continue to resonate with audiences today.

But beyond any of it, the glamour, serious drama, pulp fiction, or even the camp, there is an actress who possesses an otherworldly beauty and a depth of character and quality. Not only has she touched our hearts with her performances as these two classic heroines, but she is also one of those recognizable actresses who project strength, confidence, and poise.

Barbara Parkins will undoubtedly be remembered for her portrayal of Betty Anderson Cord in the iconic 1960s prime-time operatic melodrama Peyton Place, which ran from 1964 to 1969.

Based on Grace Metalious's "˜dirty book,' Peyton Place blew the lid off of the hypocritical conformity of small-town America, capturing the complexities of American morality through high drama, showing the dark underbelly of a quaint community of "˜wholesome' families striving for normalcy amid controversial issues. That everything is not safe, it's not always comfortable, and it is without real struggle. And sometimes, life can be downright ugly. Her novel captures the "complexities of human existence"”the dramas, highs and lows, conflicts, and teenage sexuality"”depicting life’s un-romanticized, unvarnished reality. While the book offended some readers, it intrigued others, and despite being a popular show, critics often deem it shocking yet captivating." (The Baltimore Sun 1999 Laurie Kaplan article THE WOMEN OF PEYTON PLACE)

“Barbara Parkins has caught the public's eye, partly because of her beauty, partly because she is a capable little actress. But mostly because she seems to have an inner fire. She's a volcano in a tight dress.'' (From an article BARBARA PARKINS: MOST PROMISING NEWCOMER – Niagra Falls Gazette March, 1965 by Dick Kleiner)

 

Continue reading “Feature & Interview with Iconic Actress, Dancer, and Photographer, Barbara Parkins” →

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

Baba Yaga or the Devil Witch the (United Kingdom) titles, or Kiss Me, Kill Me/Black Magic (1973) the (US) titles

“Weird {is} the operative word here. Though framed by a simple story, director Corrado Farina's approach to the film is every bit as avant-garde and surrealist as its source material. The plot had me scratching my head in bewilderment. Compelling visuals kept me watching.'' "” from Brian Lindsey’s Eccentric Cinema review.

☞ SPOILER ALERT:

READ PART 1 Tam Lin HERE

In Slavic/Russian folklore, the Baba Yaga is a strikingly revolting witch who flies around in a giant pestle – and steals and eats children. In the middle of a Russian forest, she lives in a shack built on top of giant chicken legs that can move at will. The folklore Baby Yaga is a sinister, macabre mythological presence, unlike the deviant sensual being that Carroll Baker portrays in Corrado Farina's Euro-horror film. This iteration of Baba Yaga is the seductive sorceress who manages to summon – with simmering antagonism, a world of pain – "˜symbolically' baring her predatory, wanting lips, which desire the heroine – Valentina.

According to the Monthly Film Bulletin review from 1974, critic Geoff Brown noted that he reviewed an 81-minute dubbed version of the film Baba Yaga. Brown stated that “due to 20 minutes of the film being cut and through the English-language dub, “the film had lost some of Farina’s socio-political arguments.” However, Brown also commented that most of these removed elements were reduced to “modish chit-chat” on topics ranging through various ideas.”

In the 70s, while exploring Giallo and Euro-exploitation films, I remember my first shudder and first impression of Baba Yaga. I had the feeling that something odd and erotic had taken place, and for me, it was like waking up from a hazy, surreal dream. Carroll Baker has always captivated me, and in the role of Baba Yaga, I felt she brought a level of Old World Hollywood class to a very provocative horror film.

An Italian/ French co-production, Baba Yaga is a delirious mixture of the supernatural, psychoanalysis, dream interpretation, vivid color schemes, pop art, eroticism, and fetishistic imagery. Baba Yaga, the film, revamps Russian folklore and transports the story into contemporary Milan.

As a stylish arthouse horror film from the 1970s, Baba Yaga explores the borderline between reality and imagination, embracing the sleazy allure of after-dark cinema"”fascinating and perhaps too challenging to define. There are striking elements that establish themselves with a clear sapphic element that already existed in Crepax’s work, creating an eroticized vision seen through the heterosexual ‘male gaze’ and driven by what Laura Mulvey termed "to be looked at-ness" that are kept in Farina’s film.

While I am still drawn to the film as an artifact of this decade's concentrated influence on an unmistakably hybrid genre (Horror, Euro-Exploitation, Giallo), Baba Yaga still manages to weaponize the straight male visual pleasure of actualizing their faulty version of lesbianism and bases the narrative around male sexual fantasies.

Farina and Crepax reveal the inherent bias fueled by a male-centric culture through a lens shaped by a male-centric point of view, which emphasizes the heteronormative expectation of female-female sexual exploitation.

Setting these critical observations aside"¦ The backdrop of Baba Yaga's 1970s fashion and Italian pop culture adds washes of a chic, mod, and bold cinematic experience.

Director Corrado Farina, who had previously envisioned another strange art-horror film, They Have Changed Their Faces (1971), now delivers this strange film with a mesmerizing array of visuals. The film seamlessly transitions from sharp pop design to muted Gothic hues and vents into full-fledged experimental cinema. Farina roams free with unrepentant visual skill frame by frame.

Baba Yaga, adapted from the risqué S&M erotic graphic novel series "˜Valentina' by Guido Crepax, thrives on its invocation and sense of a comic book world. Crepax, who earned his reputation as the world's most seductive cartoonist, stands as one of the eminent figures in the realm of adult comics and garnered greater recognition during the 1960s and 1970s.

Crepax's prominence stems not only from his introduction of erotic themes but also from his innovative approach to storytelling within the medium, incorporating nudity and daring themes.

Continue reading “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” →

Beverly Washburn: Reel Tears – Real Laughter! Part 2

This is the second of two features about Beverly Washburn. You can read Part One here.

THE INTERVIEW:

1. Your first part in a film was for the 1950 film noir classic The Killer that Stalked New York starring Evelyn Keyes. You were supposed to be the first victim, a little girl who gets smallpox from Keyes who is on the run spreading the plague. And it was a speaking part. The script said, "˜'There sits little Walda Kowalski with her great big brown eyes and brown hair'' but you had blonde hair and blue eyes. You immediately thought that you wouldn't get the part. But Western star Jock Mahoney lied to the producers of the film at Columbia Studios after he saw you in the lobby while auditioning for the part of Walda. Mahoney met you 3 months earlier at one of your sister Audrey's shows. He was very taken with you, so he raved to the producer that you had done all this work even though you had no credits. And you got the part!

Essentially it was Mahoney's misdirection that helped your career! "¨"¨Does it ever make you laugh that it took a harmless lie, a few speaking lines, and tragically dying from smallpox in a Columbia Studios production to give you the leverage you needed to move forward in your acting career? Can you tell us about that experience?

Getting my first big break was perhaps a little unusual particularly since it was based on a little lie!
I had met Jock Mahoney a few months prior to the audition for the role in “The Killer That Stalked New York” which was to be filmed at Columbia Studios. At 6 years old, I had an agent who had sent me on countless auditions, none of which I ever got due to the fact that I had no experience other than having worked as a model of children’s clothes.

The role of little Walda Kowalski was listed in the script as a little girl with big brown eyes and brown hair. Now that description wasn’t pertinent to the actual role, however when a writer writes in a character, he or she typically envisions what they might look like. Well, right off the bat, it seemed apparent that I wasn’t what they were looking for because I had blue eyes and blonde hair.  As I was sitting in the lobby among many little brown-eyed and brown-haired other hopefuls and my not having any experience, it seemed that this would just be another letdown and another rejection for me. As I waited to go in, something marvelous happened. Jock Mahoney happened to walk through the lobby!  He remembered me as we had met at the Veteran’s Hospital in Long Beach California where he had been the guest of honor and where my sister was performing her act for the Veterans.  He asked my mother what I was doing there and when she told him I was reading for the part of Walda, he said “I’ll be right back.” What we found out later was that he went into the office of the Casting director and told them that I was perfect for the role, that I had done this and I had done that,  when the reality was, I hadn’t done a thing other than model!  He was under contract at the time and had some clout,  so they took his word for it. So as the story goes, he lied, they believed him and I got the part!

I do laugh sometimes thinking about how that all came about. I think about him from time to time and realize how blessed I was to have it unfold the way it did because after I had that one speaking role, it was then that I was able to continue on."¨ It’s such a “catch-22 ” situation because they don’t want to hire you if you don’t have experience, but how do you get the experience if they don’t hire you? I of course will forever be grateful to him for allowing me that one break, albeit he had to tell a little white lie in order for them to give me the role!

Continue reading “Beverly Washburn: Reel Tears – Real Laughter! Part 2” →