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”

Beverly Washburn: Reel Tears – Real Laughter! Part 1

This is the first of two features about Beverly Washburn. You can read my interview with her here.

First off, I’d like to thank Beverly Washburn who graciously lent her valuable time in collaborating with me and guiding me to make this a proper tribute.

Two times a year (every April and October) I get to ramble through the crowds of unwavering fans at The Chiller Theater Convention here in New Jersey.

These events allow us to meet and engage in conversations with beloved actors who stir up a sense of nostalgia for their classic films and television roles, all having now achieved cult status. We celebrate these fond memories and possess a vast appreciation for the legacy of their work. We go to Chiller fanatical about these guests. Some may be a bit austere, but so many are incredibly gracious, funny, down to earth, and grateful for our devotion.

In October of 2023, I went to spend time with my friend Sara Karloff. but also to get the chance to meet someone I’ve had a long-time fan affection for: Beverly Washburn.

Beverly turned out to be a charming, kind, and genuine person who still possesses that unique intonation to her voice. She has the same sweetness and organically winsome smile she had as a young actor. And I would be careless if I didn’t state up front that she is also a champion of animals and has become a true friend.

She might be legendary for her adeptness at weeping, but she can also laugh on a dime. Her laughter comes off without a hitch. It’s a very natural practice for her, showing her marvelous sense of humor with a lightness that flickers from her blue eyes.

Her biography Reel Tears: The Beverly Washburn Story ‘Take Two’ ( click the link to purchase) is filled with truly poignant, humorous, and engaging anecdotes about the golden age of Hollywood and beyond. Her writing is refreshing, delightful, and unpretentious. But she is also a courageous writer who shares with bare honesty her very personal journey sometimes tinged with tragedy and her productive career in television growing up as a beloved child actor. Her memoirs include an affectionate forward by her friend Tony Dow of Leave It To Beaver fame.

During the golden years of Hollywood, Beverly Washburn graced the silver screen as a luminary child actor in the 1950s and 1960s. She found the careful balance between comedy and ‘real tears’ with the uncanny gift of crying on cue.

A consummate performer, she effortlessly cut across the terrain of both humor and drama, leaving an everlasting mark on the hearts of her audience.

Beverly as Lisbeth Searcy in Old Yeller (1957).

Not only is she the timeless muse who appeared in some of the most cherished movies of the time, but during the Golden Age when television was redefining American culture, Beverly appeared in countless shows as a natural whenever she was featured in the storyline. She always summoned the ability to adopt a serious mood or show with an aptitude for humor that began the moment she stepped on the stage with comedian Jack Benny in 1952. As a favorite child actor during the rise of live television in the 1950s, the little blonde pixie eventually grew into a very pretty ingenue taking the teen fan magazines by storm in the 1960s.

Beverly Washburn appeared in nearly 100 television shows. During her Hollywood years, many of her feature films were nominated for Academy Awards. She worked with some of the most notable directors such as Cecil B. DeMille, George Stevens, and Frank Capra. She also worked alongside some of the greatest Hollywood actresses including Jane Wyman, Anne Baxter, Piper Laurie, Dorothy McGuire, and Barbara Stanwyck.

She was the girl who could not only cry on cue but could reduce the audience to tears. Often asked how she was able to cry so easily on screen, she has said in interviews that she’s overly sensitive and just tried to put herself in the character’s place in that situation.

Talking to her now, she feels extremely blessed when looking back over her long career, and she never forgets to express the love she has for her fans whenever she’s been interviewed. She is also very grateful that her parents were very supportive yet they never pushed her into acting.

She writes in her wonderfully colorful biography filled with joyful photographs and hilarious anecdotes that even though there may have been times when her family might have had only a half of a bean, her mom would share it with anyone. Beverly’s mom and dad were by her side every step of the way and were very well-liked by both cast members and crew. Her mom kept her grounded, humble, and realistic and helped her stay on a good path while navigating the business.

Beverly Washburn grew up in a humble middle-class home in Hollywood California. Acting was something that she realized she wanted to do and truly enjoyed. Beverly is not only incredibly grateful to her many fans, she readily embraces them as the reason she has remained so popular and valued as an actor. And it makes her truly happy when she puts a smile on someone’s face.

She followed in the footsteps of a talented family of entertainers, her father’s brothers and sisters were in Vaudeville, traveling the circuit with a song and dance act called The Four Pearls. In the 1950s her sister Audrey went to Hollywood High and was a classmate of Carol Burnett. The two became friends and both worked as ushers at the Egyptian Theater on Hollywood Boulevard. Audrey became Penny Marshall’s stand-in for Laverne & Shirley and wound up singing backup for Marlene Dietrich in Las Vegas. It was Audrey’s show biz career that eventually led Beverly down that path.

Beverly was merely 3 years old when she started modeling children’s clothes. When Beverly was 5 years old, she tagged along with her mom and sister Audrey, an acrobat, to entertain veterans at Long Beach Hospital. On one particular occasion, she had a dancing gig at the Capitol Theatre in Yakima Washington. The emcee asked Beverly to come up on stage and sing ‘I’m a Big Girl Now.’ Beverly felt very comfortable in front of an audience. She was a natural.

There she met Western movie star Jock Mahoney – the Range Rider. She was mesmerized by this tall handsome cowboy. He would play a role in setting Beverly’s career in motion. Her lack of experience was a hurdle but she and her mom persevered. Beverly’s mom saw her potential and hired an agent, Lola Moore, who represented some of the best-known child actors in Hollywood at the time. It wasn’t easy at first to get this notable agent’s attention. She was turned away by Moore’s overwhelmed secretary. But her tenacious mother was not willing to take no for an answer even when Moore’s office in Hollywood was overflowing with anxious little girls looking to be the next child star.

In the busy agent’s office, her mom managed to catch sight of Lola Moore’s photo, so she and Beverly waited in the parking lot. When Moore got back from her meeting at 20th Century Fox, she was met by a little blonde cutie who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. “ I sure like your hat, Miss Moore.” Beverly flashed that bright smile of hers. Moore who had been an imposing figure had no time for anything but serious business. Studying Beverly with delight, she answered with a hearty “ Well you’re the only one who does! Know why I wear such large hats?” “No Ma’am I don’t.” “It’s my signature. I want people to know I’m around. I want them to see me coming.’’

Beverly was an honest and polite child who looked straight at Moore she said, “I don’t know how they could have missed you anyway.’’

Lola Moore found this refreshing and laughed and invited the two up to her office to talk. Understanding that Beverly had no acting experience, or whether the camera was going to take to her, Moore set her up with a drama coach Mildred Gardner and she began taking voice lessons, diction, and other important acting techniques. Though Beverly had no formal training, she was a natural. She never got involved as a Method actor. She was briefly taught by Gardner but after a few weeks she informed Beverly’s mother, ” Your daughter has a natural ability to act, and taking lessons would only ruin it.”While the utmost compliment, Beverly has imagined how far she might have gone if she had formerly studied.

This is where she perfected her famous ability to ‘cry’ so well. Beverly has described this gift stating that she would think of what she was supposed to be crying about, imagining herself in that situation, and the waterworks would follow. Beverly says of herself that she’s a very sensitive and emotional person. TV guide wrote a two-page article entitled BEVERLY WASHBURN EARNS HER SALT BY CRYING ON CUE. In the book Ladies of the Western written by Boyd Majors and Michael Fitzgerald, they included a chapter called ‘Queen of the Criers.’

Beverly loved to be in front of the camera, but when she was ready she was faced with a dilemma. Every time they sent her out on an interview she didn’t get it because she had no experience or credits to her name. It was a real Catch-22.

Beverly with Evelyn Keyes in The Killer That Stalked New York (1950).

Then, essentially fate stepped in a couple of months later while auditioning at Columbia Studios for a speaking part in the classic film noir thriller The Killer That Stalked New York which would be released in 1950. Beverly was 6 at the time of filming. Jock Mahoney who was under contract with Columbia, happened to be walking through the lobby and remembered meeting her at sister Audrey’s show.

Beverly didn’t fit the description of Walda Kowalski, the little girl the script describes as having ‘brown hair and brown eyes’ in the film. She thought she wasn’t going to possibly get the part because she had blonde hair and blue eyes. Her mother told her in a very soft-spoken voice,” Honey you’re not gonna get this part, but just go in and do your best.’’

Mahoney asked Beverly’s mother why she was at the studio, and she told him that she was going to be reading for a part in the film, and had been getting turned down numerous times because she had no experience. He told her “ I’ll be right back.’’ Later she would come to find out that he went to the producer and raved about all the work she had done even though she hadn’t done a darn thing. They believed him and she got the part. On the first day of shooting, Beverly was excited to be sitting in the big makeup chair getting her makeup and hair done which they put in little curls, possibly trying to make her look like Shirley Temple which was fine with Beverly since she was a big fan of Shirley Temple.

The Killer That Stalked New York (1950) is a classic film noir about a woman, Evelyn Keyes, who smuggles jewelry into New York from Cuba. After she contracts smallpox she goes around infecting everyone she meets in the city. The authorities try to track her down before an epidemic breaks out.

Beverly plays the first victim who gets smallpox from Keyes, and that’s how they learn about the outbreak. She had two scenes in the motion picture. One is where Keyes gives her a pretty brooch and the second is when she buys the farm. The makeup department afforded her a deathly look by making her as pale as possible, which in B&W made her look grayish. Shown in an oxygen tent, it was a very melodramatic death! After The Killer that Stalked New York, she continued to go on auditions but now she had a big credit to go with her name.

Here Comes the Groom (1951) starring Bing Crosby and Jane Wyman. Beverly with Jacques Gencel.

Because of that one speaking role for Columbia Pictures, other opportunities opened up. After the noir thriller, she was called to a screen test for her next film Here Comes the Groom in 1951. It would be a role in a motion picture directed by Frank Capra and starring Bing Crosby, Jane Wyman, Alexis Smith, and Franchot Tone. The film also featured fashions by costume designer Edith Head and cameos by Louis Armstrong, Dorothy Lamour, Phil Harris, Cass Daley, and Frank Fontaine. Here Comes the Groom was a huge B&W musical, and an important part throughout the film. She plays a refugee who speaks very little French, makes the funniest faces, and shows off a natural sense of comedy at such an early age, as she plays off Jacques Gencel.

Beverly worked on the film for 3 months, afterwards Bing Crosby gave her a beautiful doll that she named Dixie, after Crosby’s wife at the time. After filming wrapped up, Crosby signed a photograph for Beverly saying, “ I hope to play in your next picture.”

This would not be the only wonderful treasure Beverly would receive from actors. Even Jane Wyman gave her a beautiful dress. While the motion picture was not a huge success at the box office, it did win an Oscar for Best Song ‘’In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening’’ written by Hogie Carmichael and Johnny Mercer.

In 1951, her next little part took the form of a theatrical film featuring the iconic superhero, Superman. Titled Superman and the Mole-Men, this film served as the pilot for the subsequent TV series starring George Reeves as the eponymous hero and Phyllis Coates as Lois Lane, the fearless reporter. The TV series ran from 1952 to 1958.

Beverly had so much fun cast as a little girl who plays with a radioactive ball in her bedroom. Two of the mole men (who are not space aliens but come from inner earth) climb through the window and she plays with them until her mother discovers the strange little men with her daughter and screams!

Continue reading “Beverly Washburn: Reel Tears – Real Laughter! Part 1”

Noirvember – Freudian Femme Fatales – 1946 : The Dark Mirror (1946) & The Locket (1946) ‘Twisted Inside’

The Dark Mirror (1946)

In films such as The Dark Mirror and The Locket, the male psychiatrist is posited as an antidote to the bad female by being ‘’established as a detective figure whose principal function is to investigate and ultimately to eradicate ‘deviance’ (represented in these instances by excessive female desire.)’’ From Frank Krutnik IN A LONELY STREET; FILM NOIR, GENRE AND MASCULINITY 1991

It is the phantom of our own Self, whose intimate relationship with and deep effect upon our spirit casts us into hell or transports us to Heaven – E.T.A. Hoffmann

”The figure of the double has been manifest in diverse forms. At times the doppelgänger has shown itself as an ether being – a shadow, a reflection or an animated portrait. At other points, it has taken the shape of an identical being – a person of kindred appearance, a relative, a twin.” From TWO-FACED WOMEN: THE ‘DOUBLE” IN WOMEN’S MELODRAMA OF THE 1940S – Lucy Fischer Cinema Journal 1983

In the 1920s hard-edged and gritty crime fiction became popular, and by the 1940s Hollywood embraced them. At the same time Freudian psychoanalysis became a big deal in America. People knew the basics of Freud’s ideas, so Hollywood could paint stories with ideas the audience could recognize, knowing that people would get the main gist. It became the foundation for some amazing visual displays. Dream sequences started popping up a lot in American cinema, most distinctive in thrillers and in particular in film noir. The Dark Mirror is one of the standout films made during the 1940s and 1950s that introduced psychiatry – like – Spellbound 1945 and two years later, de Havilland would star in Anatole Litvak’s The Snake Pit 1948.

Much of film noir’s psychological pathology gives rise to obsessive fixations on the object of one’s desire. What differs with Siodmak’s The Dark Mirror is that the psychotic’s fixation lies with their sibling and not a lover.

The Dark Mirror is a psychological film noir released in 1946, directed by Robert Siodmak who worked with shadows in his various film noir/horror/ and thrillers like an artist works with paints.  The film was produced and screenplay written by writer/director Nunnally Johnson who penned a slew of diverse screenplays that spanned the 1940s through the 1960s – including The Grapes of Wrath 1940, and The Dirty Dozen 1967.

Nunnally Johnson, transitioning from writer and producer to director, secured the rights and brought the story to life on screen. The film materialized through a collaborative effort between International Pictures, co-founded by Johnson and William Goetz, and Universal Pictures, marking their inaugural project under the Universal Pictures-International Pictures Banner.

The recently established studios were looking for a well-known name for their picture and Olivia de Havilland who was a huge star at the time came on board. She had recently taken legal action against Warner Bros. to terminate her contract and was now free from the studio’s stranglehold.

In 1947, she delivered a noteworthy performance in To Each His Own for Paramount earning her the Academy Award for Best Actress. Following two films, The Well-Groomed Bride and Devotion in 1946, she entered into an agreement with Nunnally Johnson to star in The Dark Mirror.’

The Dark Mirror, like The Spiral Staircase both of which were classic ‘paranoid women’ /  ‘woman’s films’ stars de Havilland who plays identical twins, one of whom is a knife-wielding paranoiac killer. The casting of de Havilland is significant particularly because she not only starred in a variety of women’s pictures but her sister Joan Fontaine was also an iconic star of the paranoid woman’s films. Some of the most notable are Hitchcock’s adaptation of Du Murier’s Rebecca 1940 and Nicolas Ray’s Born to Be Bad 1950. The Dark Mirror presents itself as a psychological noir right from the start of the film with the Rorschach blots backgrounding the titles.

Olivia de Havilland engaged in a notable real-life conflict with her younger sister – silver screen star Joan Fontaine. This behind-the-scenes rivalry positioned the actress to confront her own duality in Robert Siodmak’s 1946 quintessential film noir, The Dark Mirror.

Siodmak made some of the most critical film noirs in the late 1940s and early 1950s, including, The Killers 1946, Cry of the City 1948 Criss Cross 1949 and The File on Thelma Jordon 1950. he had left the spotlight that shined on his pictures specializing in terror and became one of the most prominent directors of crime noir and suspense. By the early 1950s, he grew weary of Hollywood and returned to Germany.

In this way, the reception of Siodmak’s 1940s Hollywood films demonstrates the ways in which the category of horrors incorporates films now seen as thrillers, film noir, and examples of the ‘woman’s film.’ Siodmak brought with him the sensibility of German cinema strongly associated with the art of shadows and horror.

It’s clear, that director Robert Siodmak was drawn to exploring the human psyche in his picture, and The Dark Mirror is a perfect example of this. Siodmak was fascinated with the dynamic of the good sister/bad sister which was apparent in his earlier works like Cobra Woman (1944) and The Strange Affair of Uncle Harry (1945).

Siodmak’s penchant for the use of shadow in his other work holds back his enduring use of chiaroscuro in The Dark Mirror. Apart from the opening scene, the only instances where he delicately manipulates light and shadow occur within the confines of the twins’ bedroom.

The bedroom is the place where we are most vulnerable, where they sleep, which is symbolic of the psychological warfare Terry wages against her sister Ruth. There was a historic rivalry and jealousy over the years. The perceived rejections by male suitors, even the adoptive parents who chose Ruth over her. At the end of the film, Detective Stevenson tells Dr. Elliot that he had the idea to lay a trap for Terry because he feared for Ruth’s life. ‘’Even a nut can figure out that it’s simpler to get rid of a rival than to go on knocking off her boyfriends all the rest of her life.’’

A narrative featuring identical twins presented an ideal chance to delve deeper into the realm of the doppelgänger mythology, a theme that captivated him and inspired by Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1927).

Based on a short story by Vladimir Pozner that appeared in Good Housekeeping in 1945, The Dark Mirror is notable for its exploration into the complexities of the human mind and the manifestation of conflicting identities.

Pozner’s story was nominated for Best Story at the Academy Awards, though it lost to ‘’Vacation from Marriage” by Clemence Dane, which was adapted into a British movie released as Perfect Strangers in the UK starring Robert Donat and Deborah Kerr.

Collaborating with cinematographer Milton Krasner, known for his work on Lang’s Woman in the Window 1944 and Scarlet Street 1945, and All About Eve 1950, Siodmak enlisted an old colleague – Eugen Schüfftan, for visual effects. Schüfftan created the visual effects for Metropolis 1927. In the film, over three dozen shots feature mirrors, some to set the tone, but mostly to depict the inner conflict of the twins, highlighting their interchangeable likeness. De Havilland is shot beautifully in split screen using a stand-in when both twins appear.

Though de Havilland gave a very nuanced performance balancing opposing identities, down to the tone of her voice used for each sister, their body language, facial expressions, the subtle arching of her eyelids, and the sister’s diverging character traits, Siodmak tried to ensure that the audience would have subtle cues for each of the characters. They were visibly ‘labeled’ for us. De Havilland’s Ruth is gentle yet timorous and softly spoken. She wrings her hands out of nervousness. Terry, however, is the bolder one, more assertive and hostile by a hair’s breadth when challenged. Terry also smokes and is left-handed, while Ruth chooses to favor her right hand.

In a large part of the film, as in so many films, clothes often tell a story, in particular at the beginning of The Dark Mirror the twins wear identical clothing, Irene Shraff’s costume designs, monogrammed dressing gowns, tailored houndstooth suits, initialed brooches, and largish necklaces bearing the letter ‘T’ and ‘R’ might have been used as visual clues to help us sort out which twin was which, however, this does not dismiss de Havilland’s ability to traverse the dueling roles.

It is important to note once we become aware of how unbalanced Terry is, the sisters begin to dress differently. For example: Ruth can be seen wearing a white long-sleeved sweater and conservative pencil skirt, while in contrast – Terry goes to Elliott’s apartment pretending to be Ruth wearing a chic black satin dress with a jewel-encrusted pill-box hat. The visual clues summon the fall of the girl’s connection to each other and begin to symbolically delve into the cliché good vs evil through the emblematic use of color coding- black vs. white.

The narrative is framed by the presence of two significant mirrors, serving as visual parentheses for the story.

Siodmak initiates ambiguity with his use of mirrors and reflections: right from the opening sequence there is a shattered mirror which is reiterated or ‘mirrored’ at the climax of the film when Terry throws an object at the mirror after she sees Ruth’s image in the glass. Throughout The Dark Mirror appearances are deceptions – this is the central substance of the story.

The Dark Mirror is a psychological study of identical twin sisters Terry and Ruth Collins both played by Olivia de Havilland who vex and bewilder Thomas Mitchell (Stagecoach 1939, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington 1939, Gone with the Wind 1939 also with de Havilland, It’s a Wonderful Life 1946, High Noon 1952.) who plays surly Detective Stevenson who gets frustrated and ornery trying to solve a murder he is convinced one of them has committed. Lew Ayres plays the role of Dr. Scott Elliott, a psychiatrist tasked by Stevenson to help unravel the mystery as to which one of the twins is guilty of murder.

De Havilland’s performance is striking under Siodmak’s direction a tough process considering both Collins sisters had to be filmed separately for the scenes where she/they occupied the screen at the same time. Adding to the struggle to make this work was the disagreements between Siodmak and de Havilland who clashed from the beginning over how to approach the way the twins were portrayed. Siodmak was making a psychological thriller and de Havilland saw the film as a character study of paranoid schizophrenia (Greco) ‘’One sister could and one couldn’t commit murder, and that’s all there is to it,’’ the film’s resident psychiatrist explains.

‘’The film suggests but does not develop the possibility that Terry is Ruth’s other self, the ‘dark mirror’ that reflects the negative potential lurking beneath Ruth’s sunny mask. However, the insistence on the separation of the characters into icons of good and evil makes the film a superficial melodrama rather than a probing psychological study. Good and evil do not engage in an internal clash but are presented as the essence of two separate characters, as in a medieval morality drama.’’ – Foster Hirsch The Dark Side of the Screen: Film Noir

The film’s foundation rests on the ‘old wives tale’ about twins, suggesting that one must possess an inherent darkness—in this instance, a deep-rooted psychological one. Featuring the dramatic taglines: Dramatic tagline Twins! One who loves… and one who loves to kill! This is conveyed in the film’s promotional ads, “To know this twin is to love her… to know this twin is to die!”

When one of the twins is accused of murdering a doctor, both come under scrutiny. Ironically, it becomes impossible to establish which twin was identified by the eyewitnesses, so the law can’t touch them.

In The Dark Mirror, Terry, the malevolent sister, murders her fiancé the prominent Dr. Frank Peralta when she realizes that he actually feels more genuine affection for her virtuous sister Ruth, though he is unaware of Ruth’s existence. He experiences a tenderness in Ruth’s and a peculiar absence of emotion when he’s actually with Terry. Seeking understanding, he consults a psychiatrist to explore the possibility of a split personality in the woman he loves. The primary suspect is one of the Collins twins. However, the authorities are confounded by the fact that the twins are identical in appearance, making it difficult to determine which one committed the crime. Dr. Scott Elliott is brought in to evaluate the sisters and aid in solving the case.

Dr. Scott Elliott who frequents the medical plaza’s magazine stand where he purchases his lemon drops from Terry, is shocked when he discovers that she has an identical twin sister Ruth. Dr. Elliot (Lew Ayers) is called to the district attorney’s office to help with the investigation because he is an expert in the study of behavioral genetics in twins.

The Dark Mirror was Lew Ayers’s first movie after a four-year absence acting as an Army medic and awarded three battle stars during WWII. He returned to acting and became famous for his kindly Dr. Kildare series of films which was on the nose having been away for four years working as a doctor.

A darkened cityscape leads to an apartment that unfolds with a nighttime homicide and a shattered mirror like a fractured mind, an overturned lamp, and a man lying on the floor with a. knife stabbed through his heart. It establishes an atmospheric backdrop for a sinister and psychological story where the thin line between the narratives’ proposed trope of good vs evil is obscured behind the enigma of perceived ‘female’ duality.

At the opening of the film, it is nighttime in the city and Siodmak masterfully employs protracted camera movements through two rooms in an apartment. He unveils the time of a violent struggle, the time is precisely 10:48 pm. A man has been stabbed in the back. A prominent mirror over the fireplace becomes the silent witness to the murder – shattered – it is a visual testament to the intensity of the attack.

Cut to Detective Stevenson (Thomas Mitchell) assigned to the case, who is interviewing several witnesses in his office at the police station. The identity of the victim is revealed to be Dr. Frank Peralta. Two of the witnesses claim they saw a woman leaving his apartment around the time of the murder. Soon he learns the name, Theresa ‘Terry’ Collins.

Peralta’s assistant tells Stevenson that the doctor was in love with Terry and had planned to propose to her which gave Terry a motive. It was no secret that Terry was dating Peralta. Maybe it was a lover’s quarrel? As far as Detective Stevenson knows, the only suspect is Terry Collins.

The next morning, Stevenson brings his two solid witnesses to Terry’s magazine stand in the medical building, in order for them to lay eyes on her and confirm she is the woman they saw leaving Peralta’s apartment. They are both certain it was her. He begins to interrogate her but is cut off when Dr. Scott Elliot comes by to purchase his well-loved lemon drops. Stevenson continues to put pressure on Terry to give her whereabouts the night before. She is able to detail every move as well as deliver the names of several witnesses who can swear to her presence, including a police officer and her butcher.

Once Terry learns that Peralta has been murdered she faints and seems genuinely shaken up by the news. Stevenson cannot break Terry’s alibi so he can’t arrest her. But this cop is doggedly convinced the girl is good for the murder and drops by her apartment to get to the bottom of the confusion with the witnesses. Then Ruth appears. The sisters are wearing the same bathrobes, though one is adorned with the monogrammed ‘T’ and one has the letter ‘R’ on it.

Stevenson almost combusts from the revelation that there are two of them- identical in every way and he is convinced that one of them murdered Peralta. The Collins sisters are resolute to stay silent. Neither sister will confess to which one has the foolproof alibi and which one stayed home that night. This drives Stevenson to distraction. The interrogation is getting him nowhere, there are no fingerprints on the knife and no way to prove that either one of them was there at the crime scene.

Orphans since childhood, Ruth and Terry Collins are inseparable. They live together, dress alike, and even wear wire necklaces that bear their names with a peculiar— over-obsessive clunky jeweled monogram – as if they force their identities upon us or perhaps each might be threatened by losing themselves without them. Ruth is older by seven minutes, yet Terry seems to be the more dominant, controlling sister. Terry has a maniacal obsession with Ruth and is driven to prove that she is the superior twin.

The story unfolds – Stevenson learns how Terry and Ruth seamlessly orchestrate a charade, both working at the magazine stand as the same girl – taking turns to enjoy moments of respite – essentially to ‘switch out’’ when one of them wants time off.

Under the guise of a singular job (which they cleverly share under Terry’s name), to the casual observer, no one can tell the difference until the murder exposes that they are, in fact, two separate people. Even Dr. Peralta didn’t know he was actually dating twins at the time he asked Dr. Elliott about split personalities.

Terry stands as a mother figure, a notion that the ‘bad twin’ constantly drives home to Ruth by asserting she is protecting her, making it more of a challenge for Ruth to betray her sister in the maternal role.

Among other films exploring dynamics projected by the good twin/the bad twin trope – they are often suggestive of variations on schizophrenia.

Detective Stevenson brings the sisters in for a line-up but they are so uncannily alike, that the witnesses can’t tell them apart.

Because both Terry and Ruth stay quiet, the DA is forced to drop the case against them because they won’t be able to convict with no evidence. But Stevenson is a bulldog and isn’t willing to give up. That’s when he seeks out Dr. Scott Elliott to help him uncover the truth about which one murdered Peralta.

The investigating officer on the case is Lt. Stevenson (Thomas Mitchell) enlists the unofficial help of up and coming psychiatrist, though Stevenson is more of a skeptic about psychology referring to him as a ‘fortune teller’ who employs ‘gimmicks.’ “Don’t you witch doctors treat people with tinker toys?’’

Dr. Elliot doesn’t ascribe to the age-old superstitions that twins are usually “penalized in some way, physically or psychically.”

He believes that “character, personality is the key” – that the two elements which are very black & white are pivotal, though one is a moral question and the other is scientific. Ayers is an actor who often comes across as a paternalistic figure puffs on his pipe and uses softly phrased insights as the even keel Dr. Elliott.

Dr. Elliot says, “Not even nature can duplicate’ this quality, “even in twins” so this is what would tell who is the murderer. He adds that ‘one could and one couldn’t commit murder, and that’s all there is to it.”

‘’the insistent separation of the characters into icons of good and evil makes the film a superficial melodrama rather than a probing psychological study. Good and Evil do not engage in an internal clash but are presented as the essence of two separate characters, as in a medieval morality drama.’’ Foster Hirsch

Terry and Ruth agree to be added as another set of twins for Dr. Elliott’s research, though Ruth appears to be more wary of submitting to his examinations and acts cautious believing that Terry might be guilty of the murder.

Terry admits to Ruth that Peralta did propose to her and that she did see Peralta the night he was murdered. But Ruth agrees not to talk. She poses the question to Ruth, why would I kill him? Ruth is frightened that the truth will come out during Dr. Elliot’s examinations, but Terry thinks she’s smarter than him and can pass all his ridiculous tests.

He invites the sisters to come to his office separately, where he puts them through a series of psychological tests, including the cliché inkblots that were groundbreaking at that time. Dr. Hermann Rorschach created them in 1921 to diagnose schizophrenia but that was modified in 1939 when it was used as a standard personality test.

As Dr. Elliott delves into the lives of Terry and Ruth, he discovers the stark contrast in their personalities. While Terry is manipulative, cunning, and emotionally unstable, Ruth is kind-hearted and virtuous.

The mystery deepens as Dr. Elliott tries to understand the motives behind the murder and grapples with the challenge of distinguishing between the sisters. The film takes an intriguing turn as Dr. Elliott employs psychological techniques to uncover the truth.

Elliott puts the girls through a series of standard psychological tests that seem to imply more of a moral evaluation than a psychiatric one. After Terry gives her impressions of the inkblots Elliott determines that she has a dark inner conflict, clever and calculating, even a tendency toward violence, after she describes “the lamb looks so innocent, but it has two men under its paws.”

Terry’s answers seem rehearsed, suggesting an attempt to assert her power though she tries to convey a helpless innocence. But Elliott notices the contrast in Ruth’s answers right away. She appears very genuine, and is not aggressive, or threatening, with her contemplations more of a refined nature, as in dancers around a maypole and skaters in an ice show. Ruth is more retiring and amiable. This leads Elliott to conclude that Ruth is normal and Terry is the one who is mentally disturbed. Eventually, the monograms are disposable as de Havilland manifests the difference through her acting skills.

As Dr. Elliott delves deeper into the two personalities he begins to fall in love with Ruth, while Terry pursues him romantically. A pattern that is replaying itself. In the past, men have always chosen Ruth over her, while Terry desires them herself.

We learn that as orphans, a couple wanted to adopt Ruth but not Terry, and as they grew up, men were always drawn to Ruth, even Dr. Peralta preferred Ruth though he didn’t know why. It was when he was with Terry that he feared she suffered from a split personality.

Ruth isn’t aware of Terry’s psychosis but Dr. Elliott is convinced that she is insane and killed Peralta in a jealous rage.

The narrative appears somewhat superficial, adopting a simplistic approach wherein the individual potentially toying with Elliott’s psyche, teasing him with aggressive insights, is labeled as the embodiment of evil. Meanwhile, the one exhibiting a gentler perspective through her mild and innocuous visions is deemed the epitome of normalcy.

‘’20 percent of people who see things in the inkblots that expose the ‘’true secret patterns of their own minds’’ The results for Elliott point to this… ‘’one of our young ladies is insane.’’

During the free association session, Dr. Elliott is left a bit mystified because the only unusual reflex is Ruth’s reaction to the word ‘’mirror,’’ to which she responds, ‘’death.’’ Now he cannot wait to see how Terry responds to his prompts. But being visibly unnerved, having found out from Ruth how she reacted to the word mirror, it is not clear whether Terry would have given the same answer or if she is now toying with Elliott.

Terry is agitated when she hears Ruth’s answer which shows some understanding of ‘that mumbo jumbo.’ She refers to Dr. Elliott’s tests as ‘’kindergarten games’’ obviously trying to poison Ruth’s faith in the doctor’s credibility and that his psychological tests are nothing more than childish trials.

When Dr. Elliott gives them both a polygraph, it is hard for Terry to successfully manipulate her responses. Terry’s blood pressure spikes every time Elliott invokes Ruth’s name. Whenever her sister is mentioned the needle bounds frantically across the paper in a storm of black lines, especially bringing up the subject of a particular boy who liked Ruth.

From these tests, Elliotts makes his diagnosis – Ruth is sane and innocent of the murder while Terry is ‘’a paranoiac- a paranoiac is capable of anything.’’ He is assured that Terry merely found his tests ‘’another challenge to her, another opportunity to show the world what contempt she has for it. That was the tip-off.”

“A marker for insanity, or at least ‘’abnormality’’ for women, then, is the transgression of typical patriarchal authority. The ‘tip-off’ to Elliott that Terry is the ‘’wrong’’ twin is her effort to thwart the masculine power and rules that are being applied to explain her motives, psyche, and very existence.” – THE DARK MIRROR PSYCHIATRY AND FILM NOIR BY MARLISA SANTOS

Though Terry thinks she is putting one over on Elliott with his psychological ‘analysis’ she begins to feel threatened by the growing romantic relationship between him and Ruth.

Terry witnesses Elliott and Ruth in an embrace outside their apartment building, but when asked Ruth doesn’t mention it. Terry becomes more desperate to sabotage Ruth’s budding romance, something she evidently has done in the past. She decides to seduce Dr. Elliott herself, while gaslighting Ruth, trying to make her think she is losing her mind.

She begins to torture Ruth, hoping to push her to commit suicide and pin Peralta’s murder on her. She crafts illusions, spins nightmares, and conjures conversations, savoring every moment of her imaginative ploy.

Initially puzzling is why Ruth willingly covers for Terry despite being the target of Terry’s cruel gaslighting, nearly driving her to a mental breakdown. As Ruth witnesses Terry’s darker side, she hesitates to betray her, fearing that Terry’s potential for evil, even going as far as murder, might also exist within herself.

Terry starts by telling Ruth that she’s been having nightmares, talking in her sleep, and then waking hysterical and terrified. Persuading Ruth to consume an excessive amount of sleeping pills, Terry secretly uses flashbulbs to light up their pitch-black bedroom in the dead of night. Ruth awakens startled while her cunning sister Terry pretends not to have seen anything.

Terry also secretly turns on a music box so it will remain playing after she leaves their apartment, to create the illusion that Ruth is only hearing the music from inside her head.

After all this, Ruth begins to believe she is descending into madness. Her head grasped between her hands she breaks down, – “Something’s happening to me, and I don’t know what it is. I don’t understand it. I’m so scared; I don’t know what to do.” Pleased with her scheme to drive her sister crazy Terry reassures her –

‘’Just remember that I’m with you and I’m always going to be with you. no matter what… no matter happens, they can’t do a thing without {her} consent.’’ 

Terry is suggesting that Ruth is mad, but she’ll be there to protect her as always. ‘’We’ll be together as long as we live.’’

“Terry converts feelings of loss and fragmentation into fantasies of total power and god-like control; she projects lack onto her own sister in the form of psychological disorder.‘’ – Lutz Koepnick from Doubling the double: Robert Siodmak in Hollywood

Self-absorbed, Terry constantly seeks approval from Elliott, wanting to know what it is about Ruth that draws him to her. In a crucial scene, she even pretends to be Ruth, kissing Elliott and challenging him to be able to tell the difference. Yet she cannot restrain herself from self-aggrandizing “Terry is the smart one,” the one men usually go for.’’

The use of a one-way mirror becomes a visual metaphor and a symbolic tool, reflecting not only the physical likeness of the twins but also the duplicity and hidden facets of their personalities. As the story unfolds, the audience is taken on a journey through the labyrinth of the human mind, exploring the nature of identity, morality, and the thin line between good and evil.

As the walls close in around Terry, she becomes more and more possessive of Ruth: “You and I are never going to be separated, as long as we live. You and I are going to be together. Always.’’

Elliott tells Stevenson that Terry is a paranoiac and definitely killed Dr Peralta. Stevenson becomes concerned for Ruth’s safety, so Elliott promises to tell Ruth that night about her sister. He calls the sister’s apartment and asks Ruth to come to see him later. But he is actually talking to Terry pretending to be Ruth. Fortunately, Ruth stops by his office right after the phone call, so he uncovers Terry’s ruse. Later on, Terry arrives at his apartment not realizing that Elliott knows about her trickery.

In a demeaning and sexist soliloquy, Elliot begins to enlighten fake ‘Ruth’ about sisterhood rivalry. All sisters are rivals for men. How it is stronger for sisters than other women. Elliott doesn’t even take into consideration ‘social class’. This jealousy is ‘‘why sisters can hate each other with such a terrifying intensity.” Considering this misguided theory, the rivalry between twins is even more intense. It is this rivalry that has consumed Terry.

Dr. Elliot –‘’ All women are rivals fundamentally, but it never bothers them because they automatically discount the successes of others and alibi their own failures on the grounds of circumstances – luck, they say. But between sisters, it’s a little more serious. Circumstances are generally the same, so they have fewer excuses with which to comfort themselves… That’s why sisters can hate each other with such terrifying intensity. And with twins, it’s worse.’’

He describes how the murder might have taken place. When he confronts Terry about her split personality, she realizes that he was in love with the part of her that is Ruth, even though he didn’t know that Ruth existed. In a jealous rage, she stabbed him in the heart. It struck me how risky this meeting is for Elliott, as Terry is genuinely dangerous having already killed one man. Sure enough, she goes to grab a pair of scissors when the phone rings, and Stevenson gives him the news that Ruth has killed herself. Terry snaps out of her homicidal rage and they rush to the sister’s apartment.

Terry as ‘Ruth’ tells Stevenson that Ruth killed herself because she was ‘sick’ and ‘twisted inside,’ words Elliott used to describe Terry. That it was Ruth who was insane and committed the murder. She killed herself over the guilt. Terry begins to ramble that she is actually Ruth. That it is Terry who has killed herself because she was so jealous of Ruth.

Elliot tries to provoke the fake ‘’Ruth’’ into revealing herself as Terry, antagonizing her about her past rejections. The family that wanted Ruth but not her, and the boys who preferred Ruth.

He confronts Terry by telling her how mentally disturbed she is. He tells her while she is pretending to be ‘Ruth’ that “Terry is ‘sick inside’ and needs help. He imagines that it is tied to something that happened in their past when they were quite young but has grown inside like a poisoned seedling. ‘’more and more bitter and is now abnormal.’’

Finally working with the police, Ruth, who has been reluctant up til now to believe that Terry is dangerous stages her own ‘’suicide’’ in order to trap her sister. As Terry begins to unravel, Ruth suddenly emerges from the bedroom. When Terry sees her reflected in a mirror behind her she throws an object and smashes it, symbolically destroying her sister who is the constant evidence of her ‘lacking.’

At this revelation it is all over for Terry and she smashes the mirror when she sees Ruth’s reflection.

By the end of the picture, Elliott and Ruth are united. He asks Ruth, ” Why are you so much more beautiful than your sister?”

‘’Terry’s possessiveness may be interpreted as a desire to absorb Ruth, to eliminate the ‘difference’’ between them that haunts her and frustrates her desires.’’ Marlisa Santos -The Dark Mirror

Dr. Elliot’s comment in the end supports the actuality that good and evil can exist within two identical people as he tells Ruth, ‘’That’s what twins are you know, reflections of each other, everything in reverse.‘’

This mental image -  signals the shattering of the mirror by the darker souled Terry at the climax of the picture when she is ultimately caught in her game of deceit, tricked by Detective Stevenson into thinking that the real Ruth has committed suicide. Caught by her own duplicity, she cannot help through her conceit she reveals her lies while claiming that she is actually Ruth and it was Terry that has killed herself.

She tries to convince Stevenson that “Terry’ despised her (Ruth) out of jealousy because men always found her more attractive and likable. Unlike the doppelgänger who inhabits an evil that is transferred to the good person, this is subverted with the evil person Terry claiming that she possesses all the good attributes from their double.

The Dark Mirror is often praised for its innovative narrative and psychological depth. The film’s exploration of the duality within a single person, embodied by the twin sisters, adds layers of complexity to the story. Olivia de Havilland’s stellar performance in the dual role is a highlight, showcasing her ability to convey the nuances of two distinct characters.

It is lauded for its psychological depth, but some critics have noted that the resolution of the murder mystery may be somewhat predictable for modern audiences. However, it’s essential to appreciate the film in its historical context, considering its influence on subsequent psychological thrillers.

‘’Sugar wouldn’t melt in the mouth of Nancy, the heroine of The Locket. Yet if we are to believe the evidence, she is a first-class criminal. With this to go on, Nancy brings the wicked-lady psychopathic parade up to date. Laraine Day gives what must be her most fascinating performance. As with so many of these wide-eyed innocents who are supposed to be baddies inside, the spectator maybe have difficulty in crediting her with such heatless villainies. However, there is just enough of a defiant something about Miss Day. More of the spirit than the actual behavior, to raise the shadow of doubt. It is this question mark that holds one rapt.’’ —Philip K. Scheuer, “Laraine Day Psychotpath.’’ Los Angeles Times May, 27 1947

‘’The complexity of Sheridan Gibney’s plot was what really enticed me to the material. It was an enigma within an enigma within an enigma. John Brahm, had done a very good horror picture at Twentieth about Jack the Ripper called The Lodger. He was a German- but not too German — and I thought he would be good to direct this and give it some of the same atmosphere.’’ —producer Bert Granet in Lee Server’s Baby, I don’t Care

The New York Times (1946) found The Dark Mirror to be a lamentable production that operated as little more than a vanity project for Olive de Havilland, who ‘has been tempted by the lure of playing against herself.’

‘’Siodmak explained that ‘audiences love a picture like The Dark Mirror because it affords what psychoanalysis call a psychic renovating’’ The strategy of bringing all aspects of The Dark Mirror under the rubric of psychological science including even its purportedly positive influence on audiences, is indicative of the representational shift away from the cynical and at times gruesome depictions of psychiatrists and psychological practices that characterized wartime horror cinema. The horror films that went into production after the ebbing of the Shock controversy evinced Hollywood’s newfound commitment to responsible depiction of psychiatry. A case in point was the 1947 film Possessed’’– Bad Medicine from book Merchants of Menace: The Business of Horror Cinema edited by Richard Nowell.

In 1948 the Screen Guild Theater produced a radio version of The Dark Mirror starring Lew Ayres and Loretta Young. In 1950 de Havilland reprised her role for a radio broadcast at Screen Director’s Playhouse.

Continue reading “Noirvember – Freudian Femme Fatales – 1946 : The Dark Mirror (1946) & The Locket (1946) ‘Twisted Inside’”