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

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

BEDLAM (1946)

A Symphony of Dark Patches- The Val Lewton Legacy 1943

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE BODY SNATCHER 1945

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror! #11 La Belle et la Bête ‘Beauty and the Beast’ (1946)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

La Belle et la Bête ‘Beauty and the Beast’ (1946)

Writer/Director Jean Cocteau’s magnificent & visually surreal odyssey, thanks in part to the stunning cinematography by Henri Alekan.

It stars Jean Marais as the enigmatic Beast who falls in love with the beautiful Belle (Josette Day), who has come to his hidden castle in order to take her father’s place as his prisoner. The Beast is enraptured by Belle and wishes to marry her. At first, horrified by the presence of this mysterious creature, she grows to care deeply for him. This film presents some of the most intoxicating imagery you’ll ever see. And like Belle… I found the Beast far more attractive than the Prince (also portrayed by Marais!)

Jean Cocteau’s La Belle et la Bête: Beauty and the Beast (1946) is renowned for its stunning design elements, which blend surrealism, gothic romance, and poetic imagery to create a magical, dreamlike landscape. The film’s visual style is a testament to Cocteau’s artistic sensibilities and his collaboration with key talents like cinematographer Henri Alekan and set designer Christian Bérard.

Henri Alekan’s black-and-white cinematography transforms everyday objects into elements of fantasy. Smoke, fog, and shimmering light create an ethereal quality that blurs the line between reality and imagination, and Cocteau’s use of mirrors as portals to other worlds reflects his fascination with transformation and duality, a recurring theme in his work.

The Beast’s castle is a hauntingly beautiful space inspired by Gustave Doré’s engravings. It features long shadowy hallways, billowing white curtains, and disembodied arms holding candelabras—an iconic touch that evokes both wonder and unease.

Belle’s family home contrasts sharply with the castle, drawing inspiration from Jan Vermeer’s paintings. The farmhouse scenes are grounded in realism, emphasizing Belle’s humble life before entering the fantastical world of the Beast.

The elaborate costumes by Christian Bérard and Marcel Escoffier enhance the fairytale aesthetic. Belle’s flowing gowns contrast with the Beast’s intricate lion-like makeup, which took hours to apply.

René Clément worked as a technical advisor, and Hagop Arakelian was responsible for designing the regal Beast make-up. The Beast’s design is both majestic and, while presented as a visage that is supposed to be grotesque, embodying his internal struggle between humanity and monstrosity. I find him most regal and beautiful in his sympathetic vulnerability. As a cat worshipper, I could never find a feline visage grotesque, even when they throw up in my shoes!

La Belle et la Bête incorporates symbolic objects like the rose, mirror, key, horse, and glove, each tied to the narrative’s themes of love, transformation, and power. The Gothic elements of the castle—such as living statues with moving eyes—heighten the sense of enchantment while maintaining a gorgeous yet eerie undertone.

The film masterfully juxtaposes Belle’s mundane world with the Gothic opulence of the Beast’s realm, emphasizing duality, metamorphosis, and redemption. This symmetry reflects Belle’s journey from innocence to self-awareness as she navigates between two contrasting worlds. Cocteau’s film is more than a fairy tale; it is visual poetry brought to life and, well… a thing of beauty!

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

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

Baba Yaga, Devil Witch (1973)

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

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

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

Necromancy, aka The Witching (1972)

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

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

SPOILER ALERT!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #9 The Awful Dr. Orloff 1962 & The Horrible Dr. Hichcock 1962

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

THE AWFUL DR. ORLOFF 1962

The Awful Dr. Orloff (1962), directed by the often-labeled king of Eurosleaze, Jesús Franco, is a landmark film in European horror cinema. Franco has made over 150 movies; however, due to the various re-titling, re-edits, and the insertion of hard-core scenes for ‘specialty’ markets, a definite total is hard to say. This Spanish-French co-production stars Howard Vernon as the titular Dr. Orloff, a deranged scientist attempting to restore his daughter’s disfigured face using skin grafts from kidnapped women. The film is probably the earliest spin-off of Georges Franju’s medical horror. – Eyes Without a Face in 1962, in which the mad doctor grafts women’s faces onto his disfigured daughter.

The film follows Dr. Orloff and his blind, deranged, and deformed assistant Morpho (Ricardo Valle) as they abduct beautiful women from Parisian nightclubs. Morpho has a nasty proclivity to bite his female victims to death! Meanwhile, Inspector Tanner investigates the disappearances, aided by his fiancée Wanda Bronsky, who bears a striking resemblance to Orloff’s daughter.

Franco’s direction emphasizes atmospheric Gothic horror, featuring Chiaroscuro lighting in the castle and night exterior scenes, creating a haunting ambiance, and the use of evocative photography, such as the silhouetted shots of the two villains carrying a coffin towards the forbidding castle and a murder which occurs in front of an upstairs window, viewed only by the street below. One of his driving motivations is to make the viewer as uncomfortable as he possibly can.

There are unsettling close-ups of Vernon’s piercing gaze, described as reaching “deep into your soul.” The film is pretty graphic (for its time) with its depictions of surgery and violence, including a scene of Orloff making a gory scalpel incision on a topless woman and the grotesque appearance of Morpho, with his bulging eyes and lecherous behavior.

The Awful Dr. Orloff is considered a pivotal work in the evolution as the first internationally successful European / Spanish horror film. It helped launch the career of Jesús Franco and established several Gothic narrative tropes that would recur in European horror. The Mad Scientist narratives blend horror and medical science fiction. As one of the trademarks of the director, he loves to use increased focus on graphic violence and eroticism with the use of atmospheric locations and Gothic imagery and the more explicit, boundary-pushing films that would follow in the 1960s and 1970s. The European version reveals more gruesome surgical shots and hints at necrophilia, which were removed from the American prints. The subdued American version was a double bill with The Horrible Dr. Hichcock 1962.

Initially met with negative reviews, the film has since gained cult status. It’s praised for its atmospheric cinematography. by G. Pacheco, evocative score, and willingness to push genre boundaries. The character of Dr. Orloff became a recurring figure in Franco’s filmography, appearing in various forms in later works. Franco revisited the character in various forms throughout his career, with The Sinister Eyes of Dr. Orloff being one of the later iterations.

THE HORRIBLE DR. HICHCOCK 1962

The Horrible Dr. Hichcock (1962) is a landmark Italian Gothic horror film directed by Riccardo Freda and written by Ernesto Gastaldi. Starring Robert Flemyng as Dr. Bernard Hichcock and Barbara Steele as his new wife, Cynthia, this often disturbing film explores themes of necrophilia, guilt, and the consequences of dark desires.

Set in 1885 London, the story follows Dr. Hichcock, a brilliant surgeon with a disturbing secret: he drugs his wife Margaretha to indulge in necrophilic desires. When an accidental overdose seemingly kills her, Hichcock flees England. Returning 12 years later with his new wife, Cynthia, he finds himself haunted by his past and struggling to resist his perverse urges.

The film delves into taboo subjects, blending elements of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart” with themes of guilt, obsession, and the battle between scientific progress and dark human impulses.

Freda’s direction emphasizes the colorful Gothic atmosphere through interior Chiaroscuro lighting. Unsettling close-ups of Flemyng’s piercing gaze and the expressionistic use of color, particularly vivid reds, symbolize lust. Once again, the film focuses on Mad scientist narratives blending horror and medical science fiction, and, much like Dr Orloff, its focus is increased on the graphic confluence of violence and eroticism.

The film has gained cult status and is praised for its atmospheric cinematography by Raffaele Masciocchi and evocative score by Roman Vlad. The Horrible Dr. Hitchcock draws inspiration from and pays homage to several classic thrillers and horror pictures, including Alfred Hitchcock’s works, particularly Rebecca, Vertigo, and Jane Eyre.

#9 Down 141 to go! Your EverLovin’ Joey, formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl!

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

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

THE AMITYVILLE HORROR 1979

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

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

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

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

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

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Monstergirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror – #7 The Abominable Dr. Phibes 1971 & Theater of Blood

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES 1971

The Abominable Dr. Phibes is a deliciously macabre 1971 British dark comedy horror film directed by Robert Fuest, who also directed the taut psycho-sexual And Soon the Darkness 1970 and offered up a torrential storm of horror camp and kitsch in 1975 with The Devil’s Rain.

Dr. Phibes, set in 1920s London, follows the vengeful quest of Dr. Anton Phibes, played with mesmerizing intensity by the incomparable Vincent Price at his flamboyant best.

Believed dead in a car crash, Dr. Phibes resurfaces in 1925, hideously disfigured and unable to speak. Convinced that a team of doctors is responsible for his beloved wife Victoria’s death during surgery, Phibes embarks on a grotesquely inventive killing spree inspired by the biblical Ten Plagues of Egypt, with the help of his otherworldly and elegantly enchanting Vulvavia, played by Virginia North.

Price’s performance as Phibes is a tour de force of silent acting. Stripped of his iconic voice for most of the film, Price crafts a character of chilling determination through his expressive eyes, subtle gestures, and macabre pantomime. His towering presence and ghoulish makeup create an aura of ominous power, while his post-dubbed dialogue, delivered through a phonograph, adds an eerie quality to his character.

As Phibes dispatches his victims with increasingly elaborate and darkly humorous methods – from a room full of hungry bats to a mechanical frog mask that strangles its wearer – Inspector Trout (Peter Jeffrey) of Scotland Yard races to unravel the connection between the murders. The film builds to a nail-biting climax as Phibes kidnaps the son of Dr. Vesalius (Joseph Cotten), the head surgeon, forcing him to perform a perilous operation to save the boy’s life.

Price’s flamboyant performance elevates the film beyond mere horror. He imbues Phibes with a tragic grandeur, his eyes conveying both maniacal glee and profound sorrow. Whether he’s conducting his clockwork band of automatons or tenderly caressing his wife’s photograph, Price’s Phibes is a captivating blend of monster and romantic hero.

The film’s Grand Guignol art deco sets, dark humor, and Price’s unforgettable portrayal have earned The Abominable Dr. Phibes a well-deserved cult following. It stands as a testament to Price’s versatility as an actor and his ability to create iconic characters, even when deprived of his most famous asset – his velvet voice.

THEATER OF BLOOD 1973

A Trailer a Day Keeps the Boogeyman Away! Halloween A-Z

Theatre of Blood (1973) is a darkly comedic horror film directed by Douglas Hickox, starring Vincent Price as Edward Lionheart, a Shakespearean actor seeking revenge on his critics. The film combines Grand Guignol horror with a Shakespearean theme and flare.

Lionheart believed dead after a suicide attempt, systematically murders the critics who fail to recognize his genius. Each murder is based on a death scene from Shakespeare’s plays, including Julius Caesar (stabbing), Troilus and Cressida (impalement), Cymbeline (decapitation), The Merchant of Venice (heart removal) Richard III (drowning in wine.)

The film explores themes of revenge, artistic recognition, and the power of criticism. It cleverly intertwines Shakespeare’s works with modern horror elements, creating a satirical commentary on the relationship between artists and critics.

In keeping with his iconic flamboyant charm, Vincent Price delivers a tour de force performance as Lionheart, balancing melodrama and pathos. Diana Rigg plays Edwina Lionheart, Edward’s devoted daughter and accomplice who also dons elaborate makeup and costumes. The supporting cast includes notable British actors like Ian Hendry, Robert Morley, Arthur Lowe, and Price’s real-life wife, Coral Brown, as Chloe Moon as the ill-fated critics.

Hickox’s direction emphasizes the theatrical nature of Lionheart’s revenge, using location shooting and a constantly moving camera to prevent the film from becoming overly stagey. The murders are grand, often darkly humorous set pieces, once again blending horror with black comedy.

Theatre of Blood is a campy, humorous, avenging, and conceptual opera. Lionheart is considered one of Price’s film characters and a favorite of both Price and Rigg.

#7 with 143 days left to go! Your EverLovin’ Joey, formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl

The Dark Side of Christmas: Exploring Bob Clark’s Pioneering Slasher Black Christmas 1974

“This moody depiction of the Christmas slayings… is as murky as the script, which dotes largely on obscenities that are no more pointed than the violence, dull direction and pedestrian performances.” — A.H. Weiler, New York Times, October 20, 1975, page 45.

Released in the U.S. on December 20, 1974, just in time for the holiday season, Black Christmas 1974 creates an authentically unsettling atmosphere. It features one of the earliest and most compelling portrayals of the Final Girl archetype.

While Black Christmas 1974 was initially embraced in its country of origin, Canada, it did not fare as well in the United States. Its transformation into a cult classic is attributed mainly to home video releases and revival screenings. For its American debut, the film was retitled Silent Night, Evil Night.

Black Christmas features an interesting cast, including Olivia Hussey, Keir Dullea, Margot Kidder, Andrea Martin, Lynne Griffin, and John Saxon. The film draws inspiration from the well-known urban legend “The Babysitter and the Man Upstairs” and a series of real-life murders that occurred in Montreal, Quebec. Filmed in Toronto, Canada, in 1974, it was produced on a modest budget of $686,000, comparable to Halloween’s $325,000.

Despite the financial constraints, Bob Clark artfully managed to use the limited resources to create a memorable, deeply disturbing narrative of isolation and terror set against the backdrop of what should be the most joyous time of the year!

Black Christmas 1974 is a groundbreaking horror film that laid the foundation for the slasher genre. It is often credited as the proto-slasher, predating and provoking an abundance of conversations about its influence on later classics like Halloween 1978.

Set during the festive season, the movie follows a group of sorority sisters who become targets of a mysterious and deranged intruder who terrorizes them as they prepare to leave for winter break.

The sorority house begins to receive a series of disturbing, vulgar phone calls that use sexually explicit language to threaten the girls. After one of the sisters goes missing, and the police finally agree to investigate, each of the women is brutally murdered.

Continue reading “The Dark Side of Christmas: Exploring Bob Clark’s Pioneering Slasher Black Christmas 1974” →

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paulette Goddard and Bob Hope in The Ghost Breakers 1940.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel McCrea and Gail Russell in The Unseen 1945.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dark Intruder 1965

Dark Intruder is a 1965 television movie directed by Harvey Hart and written by Barré Lyndon. Set in 1960s San Francisco, the film follows a series of gruesome murders that leave the police struggling to solve the bizarre crimes that appear to be linked to dark occult rituals. They enlist the help of Brett Kingsford, an urbane occultist/criminologist played by Leslie Nielsen, who is as charismatic as he is roguish. Kingsford poses as a wealthy playboy and encounters a mix of interesting characters, including Peter Mark Richman and Judi Meredith (The Night Walker 1964, Queen of Blood 1964), uncovering dark secrets connected to the city’s history and a demon that emerges from a mystical statue left at each crime scene

Devils of Darkness 1965

Devils of Darkness is a 1965 British horror film that uses vampire lore and satanic ritual themes. Lance Comfort directs with an atmosphere typical of the 1960s British vibe. It stars William Sylvester as Paul Baxter, Hubert Noël as Sinistre, and Carole Gray as Tania. It was written by Lyn Fairhurst and was Comfort’s last feature film.

A group of British tourists on holiday finds themselves in a perilous situation when Count Sinistre, a vampire who leads a secret Satanic cult in a small French village executed in the sixteenth century for his profane acts, rises from the grave. He unleashes his cult upon the unsuspecting tourists, killing three of them. Sinestre resurrects a gypsy girl named Tania, whom he has killed and taken as his bride.

One of the survivors, Paul Baxter, becomes suspicious of the supernatural nature of the deaths and decides to investigate. During his search for answers, Baxter acquires a bat-shaped talisman belonging to Count Sinistre. This prompts the Count to pursue Baxter back to England in an attempt to recover the talisman, murdering anyone connected to him.

And Soon the Darkness 1970

In And Soon the Darkness, a 1970 British thriller directed by Robert Fuest and written by Brian Clemens, is the taut story of two beautiful young English nurses, Jane (Pamela Franklin) and Cathy (Michele Dotrice), who embark on a cycling holiday touring the picturesque rural French countryside.

They stop at a cafe to chart out their next destination when Cathy catches the eye of the mysterious presence of a Frenchman named Paul (Sandor Elès). They hop on their bicycles and continue on their journey when Paul zooms past them on his motor scooter, only to park and wait for them on the side of the road up ahead.

After they peddle along their way, he stops to visit the grave of a young girl, a lovely young tourist who had been murdered three years ago.

The girl’s adventure takes a dark turn when they disagree about their plans. Jane wants to get going before it gets dark, and Cathy hopes to meet up with Paul again. The two quarrel and decide to split up. Jane stops at the local Cafe San Rivo, owned by Madame Lassal (Hana Maria Pravda), who warns Jane that the road is ‘bad,’ though she briefly waits for Cathy to catch up. When Jane returns to the spot where they last took a sojourn, she discovers that Cathy has vanished without a trace, having left her camera behind a trace. A menacing stranger has attacked and killed her. Paul suddenly shows up and becomes the prime suspect in Cathy’s disappearance.

As Jane frantically searches for her friend, she faces language barriers and growing paranoia in an unfamiliar rural community. The hostile locals and Paul’s suspicious behavior heighten Jane’s sense of dread. As she is being stalked, it is hard to know who to trust. The beauty of the unease Fuest creates is that it all takes place in broad daylight, creating an atmosphere of ironic, expansive claustrophobia amidst the vast open spaces of the French countryside. And Soon the Darkness is a suspenseful little psycho-sexual masterpiece penned by British fantasy television writer who created The Avengers and the cheeky little Daleks’ and – Doctor Who. And Fuest manages to attain a level of restrained 1970s shivers, a Hitchcockian landscape, though devoid of the campy, vividly colorful, psychological butterflies that Fuest saved for The Abominable Dr. Phibes duet and The Devil’s Rain in 1975.

Daughters of Darkness 1971

Daughters of Darkness is a 1971 erotic melancholic horror film directed by Harry Kümel (Malpertuis 1971); it is a German/French/Belgian production photographed with exquisite detail by Eduard van der Enden and art direction by Françoise Hardy. The story follows a newlywed couple, Stefan (John Karlen) and Valerie (Danielle Ouimet), who, after having a passionate love-making session on a train, head back from Sweden. Valerie is apprehensive about Stefan’s mother meeting her for the first time, so he suggests taking a room somewhere until he can make a call and prepare for his domineering mother, to whom he is newly married. They arrive at a nearly empty, opulent old hotel in Ostend, Belgium, while en route to England. learning they are the only guests except for two glamorous beauties. The sophisticated image of pure elegance – Countess Elizabeth Battori ‘Bathory’ (Delphine Seyrig) and her traveling companion, the sensuous, full-lipped nymphet Ilona (Andrea Rau).

The clerk is baffled by Battori’s appearance because she poses a remarkable resemblance to a woman who visited the hotel thirty years earlier, yet she hasn’t aged a bit. The couple takes an adjoining suite next to the mysterious pair while there is a series of gruesome crimes: four local girls who are found slaughtered. Also, Stefan seems to be fixated on the murders, while his taste for violent sex rises to new heights.

Stefan and Valerie’s stay takes a sinister turn once they encounter the enigmatic Countess, who is actually a modern-day incarnation of the infamous historical ‘Bathory,’ known for her gory torture of young girls.

While celebrating the luxuriations and pleasures of life, the four share drinks in the hotel lounge, where the Countess relates the story of the ‘Scarlett Countess’ and her sadistic appetites for the blood of hundreds of chained virgins. She not only drank their hot-flowing blood but bathed in its glorious crimson nectar after committing vile atrocities on these poor, helpless maidens. Stefan becomes fascinated and aroused by the details of slit throats… and worse. Valerie is deeply disturbed by the grim conversation.

As the couple becomes entangled with the Countess and her alluring secretary, Ilona, their dark secrets are revealed. They finally learn the truth about the two women who are actually vampires: Elizabeth, the ‘Scarlett Countess,’ and Ilona, one of her lovers. When Stefan beats Valerie with his belt after having sex, she leaves him but is met by the Countess at the train station.

Stefan makes love to Ilona and accidentally kills her when he drags her into the shower. Running water is lethal to vampires. When Valerie and Elizabeth return from the train station, they help Stefan dispose of Ilona’s body, and finally, the Countess seduces Valerie, whom she’s had her eye on from the beginning. Countess Elizabeth now has her new companion. The struggle over Valerie ensues til the climatic, poetic finale—a mesmeric tableau.

With its stylish cinematography and haunting atmosphere, Daughters of Darkness remains a cult classic in the genre. This is another film that calls to me to do a right full-length, The Last Drive In treatment. So stay tuned.

Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark 1973

Released on October 10, 1973, Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark led with the tagline: Now you see them… now you don’t… now you die!

Tiny demonic imps living in a Victorian house terrorize Sally (Kim Darby), married to up-and-coming advertising executive and workaholic Alex Farnham (Jim Hutton), who have just moved in. Sally has inherited the house from her grandmother. The secret of this Victorian portal to the bowels of a hellish domain, the entrance, which is a bolted fireplace in her grandfather’s dingy study, is linked to his volatile relationship with the sadistic little creatures – before he disappeared. Sally is hell-bent, literally, on redecorating with garish appeal, insisting on opening up the locked room, which leads to all the trouble.

Only when Alex is out of the house do the little menacing prune-faced imps play head games, taunting and threatening her while they impatiently wait for the time when she will truly come home. Handyman William Demarest, as cantankerous as ever, continues to urge Sally not to meddle in things better left locked away, but she does not heed his warning. “Some things are better left unopened.”

She hires Pedro Armendariz to tear open the bricked-up fireplace, but he soon pays for it when these horrific little creatures rig up a chord on the stairs meant to break Sally’s neck. The atmosphere of paranoia sets the mood, as no one else sees them, though they pop up everywhere while taking a shower, at a dinner party, and through the staircase. Alex angrily suggests she see a doctor. Barbara Anderson, who plays her best friend, doesn’t even believe her until the very end when it’s too late. Their little Greek chorus, calling her name in whispered tones, “free free free… set us free!” haunt the shadowy darkness as they hate the light—even flash bulbs and lit candles.

Sally is a frustrating, stubborn sort of person who just doesn’t leave when she knows she’s not imagining things, and her dismissive husband refuses to listen. I love to watch this every Halloween, and I can’t resist calling, sitting on my couch, yelling at Sally, the idiot, for just not getting out of the house. Even at the end,… taking sleeping pills and taking a nap on the bed when she is an inch away from being dragged down the darkened hole to nowhere, only to become a whispering tone in the shadows… herself. There’s a great score by composer Vic Mizzy, and one of the imps was played by Felix Silla, who was The Addams Family’s hirsute little character who squeaks and tribbles – ‘Cousin It.’

The Dark Secrets of Harvest Home 1978

Leo Penn directed, and Jack Laird produced this NBC miniseries, The Dark Secrets of Harvest Home. It’s a very atmospheric, folksy horror tale about an urban family who relocates to a seemingly idyllic rural community with unsettling undercurrents. Much like the tranquility of rural life known by Hammer, the surroundings belie the dark secrets beneath its surface. Bette Davis, in a role she was determined to play ever since she had read Thomas Tryon’s (The Other) novel, delivers an unambiguous bond to her Hammer days with films like The Nanny; wearing a pastoral high-neck black dress, white bonnet, and owlish glasses, she captures the essence of the Widow Fortune. Sage and world-weary, outwardly benevolent, yet there is a trace of malice lurking beneath. The Widow presides over the quaint and provincial village of Cornwall Coombe, acting as many things. As their medicine woman, the elder, and the matron who guides the villagers with her strict council. It is this isolated way of life that appeals to the Constantines, who are the perfect archetypal disaffected city people, Nick (David Ackroyd) and Beth (Joanna Miles). Beth has a regular gig with her psychiatrist to help her deal with Nick’s straying, and their daughter Kate (Rosanna Arquette) suffers from anxiety-driven asthma attacks. Once the family is taken into the Widow’s matriarchal bosom, her spell seems to be the nostrum the family needs. Beth is free of her therapy, and Kate’s asthma is cured. But Nick starts to feel the tremors of something corrupting at its core and the facade of their cloyingly charming new life, and the residents of the Coombe are a bit too obsessed with exalting their traditions that make you wonder about the sacred self-reliance and hints – with a rather sinister tone – that no one ever leaves the Coombe. Note: the recordings that blind Robert Dodd listens to are voiced by Donald Pleasance.

The Dark 1979

Tobe Hooper and John ‘Bud’ Cardos direct The Dark 1979, starring William Devane, Cathy Lee Crosby, and Richard Jaekel, who are fighting some kind of monster who goes on a killing and mutilation spree only in the dark of the night. Frustrated by the clueless police, the father (Devane) of the first victim goes looking for answers.

Dark Night of the Scarecrow TV movie 1981

This made-for-TV chiller aired on CBS on October 24, 1981. The dapper burlap fellow above is Bubba (Larry Drake), an innocent, kindly man with an intellectual disability who is befriended by a little girl (Tonya Crowe). In a small Southern town, four vigilante farmers (including Robert F. Lyons) wrongfully execute him when they think he has harmed Marylee, who he actually saved from a dog attack.

But after the court sets them free, Bubba seemingly returns from the grave to exact revenge as inextricable accidents begin to kill them off one by one.

Writer/director Frank De Felitta (Audrey Rose 1977, The Entity 1982) directed this pretty nifty small television production. It is pretty drenched in atmosphere during its nighttime sequences, in particular, the scene where Bubba is hiding in a field disguised as a scarecrow, which will become the haunting embodiment of Bubba’s return. While I agree clowns are terrifying, scarecrows can have a similar effect on me!

Dark Night of the Scarecrow also features Jocelyn Brando as Bubba’s mother and Charles Durning as a postman who delivers more than the mail; he brings a special kind of nasty, viciousness, and bloodlust who instigated the torturous death against Bubba in the first place and adds more murder to cover his tracks.

Alone in the Dark 1982

First, here’s a quick note: I met with director Jack Sholder (who also wrote the story) a while back and will interview him once we both have the opportunity. As part of my feature on Sholder, I’ll give more of my commentary on this special horror film as well as some of his other work, The Hidden (1987), A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddie’s Revenge (1985), and 12:01 (1993).

Alone in the Dark is perhaps one of the most iconic representations of the best of 1980s horror with the finest of genre veterans who are the perfect hosts to entertain us with this bitingly satirical film!

In this superb horror thriller, down is up, and up is down – madness blurs as chaos reigns and the lunatics run the asylum. Dr. Daniel Potter (Dwight Schultz), a psychologist, arrives at the mental asylum known as “The Haven” to work under the eccentric and overindulgent Dr. Leo Bain (Donald Pleasence).

Potter is unaware that the most deranged of the inmates there—”Preacher” (Martin Landau), Colonel Hawks (Jack Palance), “Fatty” (Erland Van Lidth), and “The Bleeder” (Phillip Clark)—are convinced that Potter killed his predecessor and their friend, Dr. Harry Merton (Larry Pine).

This experimental hospital seeks to create a sanctuary for the insane where the rooms don’t have bars on their doors. The head doctor, Pleasance, is himself unhinged, and his fellow patients are referred to as voyagers.

Paranoia grips the violent inmates as they fear Potter might turn on them next. When a power outage strikes, these crazies seize their chance; they break out – arming themselves during a riot and looting before heading to the Potter’s white-bread suburban Springwood, New Jersey home.

Preacher — who likes to burn churches and people — kills a bicycle messenger en route and, gleefully, takes his hat! The group makes it to Potter’s house, where they set siege on the family.

Fatty, a psychotic child murderer, is mistaken as the babysitter of Potter’s daughter, Lyla, whom the sinister Colonel has murdered.

As part of the sharp cynicism of the film, the teenagers in Springwood worship a band called The Sick Fucks as they wield prop axes at their concerts. It’s a commentary on the normalization of violence in American pop culture.

The Dark Crystal 1982

From the magnificently prolific minds of Jim Henson and Frank Oz On comes the story of another planet in the distant past and a Gelfling who embarks on a quest to find the missing shard of a magical crystal and restore order to his world.

This is your EverLovin’ Joey saying: just keep those lights blazing. We’re not ready to audition for the next horror flick!

Sunday Nite Surreal: Night Monster (1942)

NIGHT MONSTER (1942)

What kind of a thing is it?

Directed by Ford Beebe with a screenplay by Clarence Upson Young, with moody frames by cinematographer Charles Van Enger (Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein 1948, Bride of the Gorilla 1951) Set Design by (using sets from The Wolfman 1941 & The Ghost of Frankenstein 1942) Russell A. Gausman (Shadow of a Doubt 1943, Phantom of the Opera 1943, Touch of Evil 1958) and Gowns by Vera West.

Night Monster features Bela Lugosi in a lesser role as the butler Rolf, Lionel Atwill as Dr. King, Lief Erickson as Laurie the lecherous chauffeur, Irene Hervey as Dr. Lynn Harper, Ralph Morgan as Kurt Ingston, Don Porter as Dick Baldwin, Nils Asther as Agor Singh, Doris Lloyd as Sarah Judd, Frank Reicher as Dr. Timmons, Robert Homans as Constable Cap Beggs, Fay Helm as Margaret Ingston “How many of us are sane? You wouldn’t know, but I shall soon.” Cyril Delevanti as Torque and Janet Shaw as Milly the maid.

*Janet Shaw* as the waitress Louise Finch who works at the Till Two bar in Alfred Hitchcock’s **Shadow of a Doubt 1943.**

Universal billed Night Monster 1942 as a companion piece to The Mummy’s Tomb. starring Lon Chaney Jr.

Ralph Morgan plays a wealthy recluse, Kurt Ingston, who is bound to his wheelchair, never to walk again. Ingston invites to his ominous Ingston Towers, the very group of doctors who left him hopelessly paralyzed with both his legs amputated (there will be a more stunning revelation later on). There, they are assembled at his secluded estate, shrouded in a menacing fog, to witness a miraculous healing session performed by an enigmatic Swami Agor Singh (Nils Asther), who can teach “a method by which man can grow new tissues at will.”

The sinister housekeeper played by wonderful character actress Doris Lloyd and psychiatrist played by Irene Hervey.

As Dr. Lynn Harper – “My study of the mind has convinced me how little we know of its powers.”

Agor Singh-“A little knowledge of the occult is dangerous. Unless it’s used for good, disaster will follow its wake. That is Cosmic Law!”

Margaret Ingston –“Blood… the whole house reeks of it. The air is charged with death and hatred and something that’s unclean”

Dick Baldwin-“How is that the blood didn’t dematerialize with the rest?”

Agor Singh-“There are certain details in the process that we are not allowed to explain to the uninitiated.”

Lief Erickson plays the skirt chasing chauffeur and Irene Hervey is a psychiatrist called in to tend to the unstable Margaret Ingston played by Fay Helm!

The Swami played by Nils Asther and Bela Lugosi though receiving top billing only plays a bit part as the disagreeable butler Rolf.

Soon, one by one, the doctors turn up dead, along with several meddling servants who know more than they should.

There begin the mysterious sightings of an eerie prowler who roams the fog-drenched grounds of the estate. Also, a guest at Ingston Towers is Irene Hervey playing the beautiful psychiatrist Dr. Lynn Harper who comes to see Langston’s unstable daughter Margaret, and mystery writer Dick Baldwin (Don Porter), who tries to solve the mystery of the murders.

Night Monster acts as an Old Dark House suspense-supernatural classical horror film that possesses an eerie otherworldly atmosphere while not filled with truly shocking moments, most of which happen within the mansion, Beebe has an instinctive touch at creating the air of peril and inducing some real palpable shudders. One of the more potent examples of this is when the terrified maid Milly Carson, played by Janet Shaw, is racing through the menacing fog-soaked night, pursued by an unseen attacker, off screen we hear her violent screams followed by the night sounds of crickets and swamp frogs. The differentiation between the dead stillness and the nocturnal symphony that resumes is quite effective. Also, a creepy touch is a skeleton that bleeds…