The Phantom Carriage

 

(1921) Directed by Victor Sjöström; Written by Victor Sjöström; Based on the novel by Selma Lagerlöf; Starring: Victor Sjöström, Hilda Borgström, Tore Svennberg, Astrid Holm and Concordia Selander; Available on Blu ray and DVD 

Rating: ****½ stars 

“No living soul rides in that carriage. By the time I arrive, it’s too late for a doctor. You know full well that I am no longer among the living. But worst of all, you must face the consequences of the evil you have wrought during your lifetime.” – Georges (Tore Svennberg)

What sort of legacy will we leave behind for our loved ones? Will they think of us with reverence or disdain? We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but at the end of our lives, when the scales are measured, ideally, the good we’ve accomplished should outweigh the questionable deeds. Director/screenwriter/star Victor Sjöström addresses these questions and more in The Phantom Carriage, based on Selma Lagerlöf’s 1912 novel Körkarlen (aka: Thy Soul Shall Bear Witness!), part of a collaboration between Sjöström and the author that would span five films.

In the opening scene, Edit (Astrid Holm) lies on her deathbed on New Year’s Eve, asking for David Holm (Victor Sjöström) to visit. In the following scene, Holm drunkenly celebrates with his companions in a graveyard, telling stories to keep warm. He relates the tale that sets the rest of the plot in motion – whoever dies at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve is destined to drive Death’s ghostly carriage, armed with a scythe to reap the souls of the dead, for the following year, with no reprieve or days off. After a scuffle with one of his friends, David perishes at midnight, coming face to face with the legendary carriage and its driver, Georges (Tore Svennberg), who passed away the previous New Year’s Eve. Before Holm takes his place, Georges makes his bewildered replacement re-experience three pivotal moments (told in flashback) when his life took a wrong turn. In the first flashback, we see how Holm turned away from his family and embraced alcoholism.* After being jailed for public drunkenness, he’ released, only to return to an empty house. Instead of reflecting on his wretched behavior, he vows revenge against his wife (Hilda Borgström) for abandoning him. Thus follows Holm’s personal journey, running the gamut of emotion from anger, disgust, guilt, self-loathing, and ultimately redemption. 

* Fun Fact #1: The Phantom Carriage was co-opted by proponents of the temperance movement in several countries, to illustrate the evils of alcohol abuse.

At the heart of The Phantom Carriage is Sjöström’s nuanced performance. Seemingly bereft of the capacity for self-reflection, Holm blames his sorrows on his wife. He descends into an abyss of bitterness and hatred, immune to others’ overtures of compassion and charity. In the second flashback, set during the previous New Year’s Eve, he visits a Salvation Army shelter, where he captures the eye of Sister Edit (Astrid Holm). While he sleeps, she thoughtfully repairs his tattered coat, despite warnings from her colleague that it’s covered in germs and filth (a decision that will ultimately cause her death). She cheerfully returns the repaired garment to Holm, only for him to callously render it apart. She later visits him in a bar, where he’s only grown more bitter with time (“Why turn away so carefully? I’m a consumptive, myself, but I cough in people’s faces in hopes of finishing them off. Why should they be better off than us?”). When he discovers the whereabouts of his wife and children, their reunion is less than conciliatory (while she appears ready to pick up where they left off, he fiercely holds on to his wife’s perceived betrayal). When she attempts to lock herself and the children away from Holm, he hacks through the door with an axe* (In an act of spitefulness, he subsequently attempts to infect his own children). Eventually faced with his own mortality, David begs the carriage driver for forgiveness and a second chance. While it’s difficult to excuse his antisocial behavior, our portrait of David Holm is far from one-sided. We also witness his capacity for love and kindness in a flashback with his family, and when he returns as a spirit to comfort Edit in her final moments. 

* Fun Fact #2: Film historian Casper Tybjerg claims this memorable scene (copied years later by Stanley Kubrick in his version of The Shining) may have been influenced by a similar sequence in Broken Blossoms (1919).

If David Holm personifies selfishness, then Sister Edit* represents his polar opposite. Rather than seeing Holm’s rejection of her charity as an irredeemable act, she views him as a challenge. Despite all indications to the contrary, she never gives up faith in his ability to find redemption. While there are indications that her motivations are not completely selfless, her feelings for him give way to seeing that his marriage is repaired. In an act of misguided good intentions, she reunites David with his family, with disastrous results.   

* Her deathbed scenes seem to prefigure Harriet Andersson’s scenes as Agnes in Ingmar Bergman’s Cries and Whispers (1972).

The ghostly image* of the carriage rolling through the city streets, pulled by a skeletal horse, ranks among some of the most haunting imagery of silent (and talkie) cinema. A particularly indelible sequence depicts the driver retrieving a soul from a drowned sailor on the ocean floor (A possible influence for a scene in Night of the Hunter?). It’s a testament to the skill of the filmmakers** that more than 100 years later, we remain mesmerized by these images. Another factor that contributes heavily to the gloomy atmosphere is that most of the film takes place in the evening. Despite the inherent lighting challenge with film equipment of the time, Sjöström insisted on night-for-night shooting. 

* Fun Fact #3: Although commonly referred to as “double exposure” some of the in-camera effects shots required the film to pass through the camera as many as four times. 

** Fun Fact #4: Writing about the production at the time (specifically Julius Jaenzon’s cinematography) Sjöström commented, “We were proud of the ghosts’ consistency. They were actually not flat and misty. As a result of artful lighting, they had become three-dimensional in their spirituality.”

Is David Holm beyond redemption? It depends on your point of view. Nothing could undo the damage he inflicted on several lives, but it’s significant that he comes to a realization of his culpability at the moment of his death. Whether he’s virtuous or evil (or somewhere in-between, like most of us), Holm is still doomed to drive the phantom carriage. Perhaps it’s a matter of perspective – to be resigned to one’s fate instead of feeling shackled by it. While The Phantom Carriage received glowing reviews upon its release (Charlie Chaplin and Ingmar Bergman ranked among its many fans) it fell out of favor with critics in the ‘30s, with some accusing the film as being too naïve and moralistic, and its double-exposure shots as passé, time has vindicated Victor Sjöström and his remarkable film. Sjöström used every tool available to tell his story, and it shows. The Phantom Carriage encourages the viewer to turn inward and confront their virtues and failings. If we see a little of ourselves in each of the film’s characters, the resemblance is far from incidental.  

 

Sources for this article: Criterion Blu-ray commentary by Casper Tybjerg; Victor Sjöström: His Life and His Work, by Bengt Forslund (1988)  

 

Short Take: Waxworks

 

(1924) Directed by Paul Leni; Written by Henrik Galeen; Starring: Emil Jannings, Conrad Veidt, Werner Krauss, William Dieterle and Olga Belajoff; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ***½

“Ivan was a blood-crazed monster on a throne, who turned cities into cemeteries. His crown was a tiara of mouldering bones, his sceptre an axe. His council-room was a torture chamber, with the Devil and Death as chief ministers.” – Intertitle for "Ivan the Terrible" Segment 

Horror anthologies (and omnibus movies in general) are a special breed of film, providing several complete segments, linked by a branching story. As a result of their episodic nature, they’re often a mixed bag to watch, frequently varying in tone and quality. The beauty of the format, however, is that if you don’t like one story, you usually don’t have to wait too long for the next. Amicus productions arguably perfected the horror portmanteau in the ‘60s and ‘70s, with a string of macabre offerings, starting with Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors (1965), which was directly influenced by Dead of Night (1945). If Dead of Night was the father of the format, then the grandad was 1924’s Waxworks (aka: Das Wachsfigurenkabinett)* from director Paul Leni (The Man Who Laughs, The Cat and the Canary) and writer Henrik Galeen (Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror). Leni, who worked in many aspects of filmmaking, brought his signature visual flair to the film, before moving to Hollywood for the remainder of his all-too-brief career.*/** 

* Not-So-Fun-Fact #1: The original negative burned in 1925. The reconstructed 82-minute version that exists today is derived mainly from a British print, and is 25 minutes shorter than the version that premiered in Germany. 

** Not-So-Fun-Fact #2: Leni’s career was tragically cut short when he died of blood poisoning in 1929, only a couple of years after moving to Hollywood.

 In the framing story, a young writer (William Dieterle) visits a carnival sideshow featuring wax figures of some of history’s most notorious individuals: Harun Al-Rashid, Ivan the Terrible, Jack the Ripper and Rinaldo Rinaldini. After catching the eye of the proprietor’s daughter (Olga Belajoff), he’s hired to write their checkered backstories, which follow in a trio of segments. */** 

* Fun Fact #1: Why only three segments? Plans for a fourth story, concerning the Italian gentleman thief Rinaldo Rinaldini, were scuttled when the filmmakers ran out of funds. 

** Fun Fact #2: when the film premiered in its native Germany the order of the stories was completely different, starting with Ivan the Terrible, followed by Jack the Ripper, and concluding with Harun Al-Rashid.

The first (and best) story concerns Harun Al-Rashid (Emil Jannings), the capricious Caliph of Bagdad. When Assad, a lowly baker (William Dieterle, in a second role), inadvertently raises the ire of the Caliph, the ruler sends his Grand Vizier (Paul Biensfeldt) to dispatch the offending baker. After hearing a description of the baker’s wife Zarah (Olga Belaioff, also in a second role) from his vizier, the Caliph decides to roam the city incognito to catch a glimpse of her for himself. Meanwhile, in an effort to prove his worth, the baker schemes to steal the Caliph’s “Wishing Ring,” a magical ring that can grant any wish by the turn of its jewel. This segment is a visual delight, featuring a fanciful, expressionistic version of Bagdad that appears almost organic, with no straight lines or right angles.

Compared to the lighter tone of the first segment, the second, with Ivan the Terrible (Conrad Veidt), is noticeably darker. The focal point of the story is Ivan’s hourglass, which marks the time a poisoned victim has to live – it’s fittingly ironic that the device becomes the instrument of his eventual comeuppance. Veidt shines as the Russian despot, who keeps the population ensnared in a web of fear. Despite Veidt’s imposing performance and unique set design, the pacing is inconsistent in the second story, making it seem subjectively longer than the preceding (and objectively longer) segment.   

The third segment, by far the shortest,* focuses on Jack the Ripper (or “Spring-Heeled Jack” in the English-language version). It’s not big on story or plot, but a nightmare come to life. The writer falls asleep, dreaming he’s relentlessly pursued through the back streets and alleys by the ignominious killer (played by Werner Krauss, who also appeared as the titular Dr. Caligari).   

* Fun Fact #3: According to Julia Walmüller, who was involved with the film’s restoration, the Jack the Ripper story was always the shortest segment.

Waxworks isn’t easily classified into one genre – not exactly horror, but horror-adjacent.  While largely an exercise in style over substance (the superior Harun Al-Rashid segment notwithstanding), it’s undeniably gorgeous to look at. Although the sum is less than it could have been, Waxworks deserves its place as a revered classic that belongs on anyone’s list of must-see silent films. 

 

Sources for this article: Flicker Alley Blu-ray commentary by Adrian Martin; “In Search of the Original Version of Paul Leni’s Das Wachsfigurenkabinett: Interview with Julia Walmüller (Deutsche Kinomathek)” (2020)

Dead & Buried

 

(1981) Directed by: Gary Sherman; Written by Ronald Shusett and Dan O’Bannon; Story by Jeff Millar and Alex Stern; Based on the novel by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro; Starring: James Farentino, Melody Anderson, Jack Albertson, Dennis Redfield, Nancy Locke, Lisa Blount and Robert Englund; Available on Blu ray and DVD 

Rating: ****

“…We went for as much strangeness in the picture as we could.” – Gary Sherman (from DVD commentary)

“…I replace missing eyeballs with sawdust, glue the lids together. I’ve used bent aluminum combs for dentures. I’ve used the back part of the scalp when there was no front part, and I’ve folded one hand over wadded-up newspapers when the other hand had no fingers You find all this obscene, sheriff? You know what is really obscene? Look at this. Look at the work I’ve done. This is an art and I am the artist. What can you remember about a sealed box, a sealed casket? That is obscene. That is the death of memory. A cosmetologist gives birth. I make souvenirs.” – William G. Dobbs (Jack Albertson)

The word of the day is “scopophobia,” or the fear of being watched. As a big-city kind of guy, I can’t help but be suspicious of small towns (no offense intended to anyone living in one), where everyone knows everyone else’s business. Whether I’m simply passing through or visiting, I have the uncanny feeling that my every move is being tracked and catalogued by the locals, especially if I happen to step into a local establishment such as a store or restaurant. However absurd it may seem, I often expect to be greeted by blank stares the moment I walk in the door. Following the success of Alien (1979), the writing team of Ronald Shusett and Dan O’Bannon set their sights on Earth-bound terrors. Set in the fictional New England seaside village of Potters Bluff, Maine,* Dead & Buried reinforces our fears about venturing where we’re not wanted. 

* Fun Fact #1: Filming actually took place on the opposite coast, in Mendocino, California.

 

George Le Moyne (Christopher Allport), a vacationing photographer, arrives in Potters Bluff to take some shots of the beach. He’s approached by an alluring young woman in red (Lisa Blount), who lures him into a grisly trap. Sheriff Dan Gillis (James Farentino) discovers the tourist’s severely burned, barely alive body inside his van. George is subsequently rushed to the hospital, but before he can be questioned, he meets his demise. Dan’s investigation leads him to the town’s hotel, where the photographer was staying. The hotel’s proprietor suggests a link between George and Gillis’ school teacher wife, Janet (Melody Anderson). Although Janet contends her meeting with the now deceased photographer was innocent (purchasing photographic equipment for her school), the sheriff suspects she may know more than she’s telling. He plays a verbal game of cat and mouse with the town’s eccentric mortician/coroner, William G. Dobbs (Jack Albertson), who also seems less than forthcoming. As Gillis attempts to piece together the mystery of the photographer and other strange occurrences, signs lead to a conspiracy between Potters Bluff’s residents; the answer may lie within a tiny reel of film.

Jack Albertson (in his final motion picture role), steals the show as William G. Dobbs, who apparently has his finger on the town’s pulse. Much like the rest of Potters Bluff, he’s a throwback to an earlier era, driving a ‘50s era Cadillac ambulance/hearse, and listening to big band music on an ancient Victrola while he works. Albertson imbues his character with a sardonic sense of humor, complementing the moribund tone of the film. There’s a twinkle in his eye when he discusses his profession, taking pride in his handiwork, but lamenting the fact that it gets buried. Albertson’s performance is especially poignant considering that the actor himself was dying of cancer at the time of filming. Despite the morbid nature of the subject matter, he brings life and a much-needed sense of levity to the character. (SPOILER ALERT). Much to the sheriff’s horror, he learns that Dobbs has found a way to reanimate the dead. They go about their pre-programmed daily rituals in a perverse mimicry of life, like over-glorified Disney automatons. We never see what miraculous process Dobbs has perfected (“Call it black magic. Call it a medical breakthrough. I'll take my secret to the grave.”), which is wisely left to our collective imaginations.

James Farentino plays his role as Sheriff Gillis with intensity. His building frustration with Dobbs and the rest of the townspeople is palpable. Farentino’s performance occasionally lapses into histrionics, but it sells the more unpalatable moments. Melody Anderson (fresh off filming 1980’s Flash Gordon) brings a playful aspect to her character, Janet, evident in the scenes when she coyly sidesteps her husband’s questioning, or gleefully talks to her class about witchcraft.

The superior makeup effects by Stan Winston are appropriately stomach turning* – while not easy to look at, it’s easy to admire the care and artistry that he brings to his gruesome creations. In one scene, a murdered hitchhiker’s (Lisa Marie) mutilated face is meticulously reconstructed, layer by layer. In another sequence, Sheriff Gillis hits a town resident with his truck, leaving their severed but still twitching arm in the grill. At the behest of the distributors, the filmmakers reluctantly added additional gore sequences, but the absence of Winston’s involvement is conspicuous. When acid is pumped into an unfortunate victim’s nostrils, the melting face effect, while ghastly, isn’t nearly as convincing as Winston’s work.    

* Fun Fact #2: In one of the film’s most memorable scenes, a burn victim is stabbed in the eyeball by a syringe. Instead of a live actor, the figure wrapped in bandages was an elaborate, fully articulated dummy.

 

The murky visuals, often seen through a brownish haze, somehow work for the film (bright colors and sunny skies wouldn’t have done the story any justice), conveying an unrelenting sense of dread throughout. Sherman commented that he purposely desaturated the colors. With the exception of the opening scene (along with some distributor-mandated gore inserts) with the mystery woman, the filmmakers avoided reds. Like a fading photograph, Potters Bluff and its residents are lost in another era. 

* Fun Fact #3: Prior to filming, Sherman drew a map of Mendocino to plan his shots. He purposely filmed the town at different angles, to make it appear more claustrophobic and disorienting.

One of the primary challenges of the $3 million production was that the film changed hands with three different distributors,* each with a different vision. According to Sherman, Dead & Buried originally started as a dark comedy, but the final distributor wanted any comic scenes removed and a greater emphasis on shocks. Regrettably, the director’s cut of the film no longer exists, as the third distributor ordered all versions of Sherman’s cut destroyed. Considering the creative differences, Dead & Buried works remarkably well. Bits of dark comedy remain intact, especially the scenes with Jack Albertson. The film’s overall tone is somber, with an underlying sense of dread, deftly exploiting our fears and mystery surrounding death. It rewards upon repeated viewings, scattering many clues along the way. Despite the film’s many strengths, it wasn’t a box office success, failing to connect with audiences or some critics at the time (notably Roger Ebert). As with many cult horror films, Dead & Buried has proved to be much more enduring than once anticipated, gaining a small but ardent fandom. Much like Dobbs’ zombie creations, the movie has taken on a second life of its own. 

* Fun Fact #4: The first distribution company was Guinness (yes, the brewery), during their brief foray into the movie business.

 

Sources for this article: Blue Underground DVD commentary by Gary Sherman; Blue Underground DVD commentary by Ronald Shusett and Linda Turley (Shusett)

 

Small Town Secrets Month Quick Picks and Pans

Kyrsyä -Tuftland (2017) After a devastating breakup with her boyfriend, textile manufacturing student Irina (Veera W. Vilo) looks for summer work to pay her bills and clear her head. She answers an ad to work in the backwoods Finnish village of Kyrsyä, where she’ll gain experience making hand-woven items. She arrives at a cult-like community seemingly frozen in time, where men and women live separately. Director/writer Roope Olenius’ slow-burn folk horror film (based on a play by Neea Viitamäki) takes its time building suspense, until things get truly disturbing by the final third.   

Rating: ***½. Available on DVD 

 

The Endless (2017) Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson’s (who also appear as the lead characters) semi-sequel to their 2012 film, Resolution,* takes a lo-fi approach to science fiction, with a focus on characters, rather than flashy special effects. Two brothers, Aaron and Justin, who escaped a doomsday cult as teens, decide to revisit the secluded cult compound as adults to arrive at some closure in their fractured lives. They’re faced with a mystery when they discover the same people, seemingly unchanged after 20 years. While they piece together their hazy memories of growing up in the compound, they begin to question their grip on reality. While it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, I was entranced by its deliberate pace and challenging story. 

* Note: You may want to watch their earlier film first, for reference. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

 

The People (1972) A young teacher (Kim Darby) moves to an isolated Amish-like desert community led by the staunch Sol Diemus (Dan O’Herlihy). She takes it upon herself to discover why the children seem so joyless and repressed, while uncovering their town’s tightly held secret. William Shater plays a local doctor who holds a strange fascination and reverence for the townspeople and their unusual ways. The People plays a bit like an overlong Twilight Zone episode, albeit with an ending that just fizzles out. One of the highlights in this otherwise serious movie is one of the goofiest scenes in recent memory involving a trunkload of floating kazoos. 

Rating: ***. Available on DVD (Out of Print) and Prime Video 

Invitation to Hell (1984) In this loopy TV movie by director Wes Craven, Matt and Patricia Winslow (Robert Urich and Joanna Cassidy) relocate to a new neighborhood in the suburbs where all may not be as innocuous and idyllic as it seems. Matt and his family are encouraged to join an exclusive country club, run by Jessica Jones (Susan Lucci), the Mephistophelean director. While the rest of his family succumb to the club and its apparent charms, Matt can’t shake the feeling that there’s a sinister agenda at work. Despite pressure from his boss Mr. Thompson (Kevin McCarthy), he’s resolved to learn the club’s secret, and why everyone at his job seems to be getting ahead. The surprises are obvious, and it’s undeniably silly and heavy-handed, but an oddly entertaining experience. 

Rating: ***. Available on DVD, Tubi and Prime Video

 

Population 436 (2006) Census-taker Steve Kady (Jeremy Sisto) travels to the tiny backwoods town of Rockwell Falls to solve a century-long mystery – somehow, the population has consistently remained at 436. He’s greeted by locals who seem a little too friendly, but once he’s learned their sinister secret, it’s too late. He gets cozy with the dim deputy sheriff’s (Fred Durst) fiancée Courtney (Charlotte Sullivan), who’s eager to leave the town behind, if she can only find a way out. The film raises many answers, but answers little, leaving you to reach your own conclusions. 

Rating: ***. Available on DVD

They’re Watching (2016) The crew of a home improvement show travel to rural Moldova (it was actually filmed in Romania) to feature an American expatriate (Brigid Brannah) and the old cottage that she restored. The film crew gain the attention and ire of the superstitious townsfolk after one faux pas follows another. An intriguing premise is mostly squandered because of the mostly unsympathetic leads (SPOILER ALERT: one of the most obnoxious characters survives), and the plot falling into the trap of most found footage movies (specifically, someone is there to film every awkward moment). It’s a comedy/horror that’s not funny enough to be a comedy, nor scary enough to be a proper horror film, leading to an overblown, unsatisfying climax. 

Rating: **½. Available on DVD and Tubi

The Bubble (1966) Writer/director Arch Oboler, who co-created the pioneering 3D movie Bwana Devil (1952), made this oddity (also originally shown in 3D). A young married couple, Mark and Catherine (Michael Cole and Deborah Walley), force their charter plane pilot to land after choppy weather causes Catherine to go into labor. They land on the outskirts of a strange town that resembles a movie set (obviously a cost-conscious choice on the part of the filmmakers). The residents speak in loops, as if they’re pre-programmed, wandering about in a daze. They soon learn that they’re trapped like zoo animals by an invisible bubble which surrounds the town. It’s an interesting premise that sadly goes nowhere (just like the town’s inhabitants), slowly crawling to a tepid ending. Skip it. 

Rating: **. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

The Devil’s Rain

(1975) Directed by Robert Fuest; Written by Gabe Essoe, James Ashton, and Gerald Hopman; Starring: Ernest Borgnine, Eddie Albert, Ida Lupino, William Shatner, Keenan Wynn, Tom Skerritt, Joan Prather and John Travolta; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: **½  

“This book was owned by Corbis about 300 years ago. It’s a written history of the people – the names of the people he converted to Satan. These are written in blood, these signatures. These are people who believe that they sold their souls to the devil…” – Dr. Sam Richards (Eddie Albert) 

“It needed something. It was taking itself far too seriously, I thought.” – Tom Skerritt (from 2017 interview, “Confessions of Tom”)

Prior to the so-called “Satanic Panic” of the ‘80s, the box office was flooded with a glut of Satanic conspiracy movies. After the success of genre high-points Rosemary’s Baby (1968) and The Exorcist (1974), it seemed as if everyone with a motion picture camera scrambled to duplicate the themes from these films, with varying degrees of quality.   Somewhere in between lies The Devil’s Rain. Filmed in Durango, Mexico (and allegedly funded by mafia money), The Devil’s Rain boasted an impressive cast of veteran and up-and-coming actors, including Ernest Borgnine, Ida Lupino, Keenan Wynn, William Shatner, and John Travolta (in one of his earliest roles). Its biggest claim to fame, however, was listing Church of Satan founder Anton LaVey (who also appears in a cameo as a high priest) as a “technical advisor,” supposedly to oversee the authenticity of the rituals depicted in the film. Although I can’t attest to the veracity of the rituals on display, his involvement was a hell of a marketing gimmick (pardon the pun).

The opening title sequence sets the tone (or at least raises our expectations), with a montage of Hieronymus Bosch paintings. It’s too bad Bosch’s fanciful representations of the torments of hell are nowhere to be seen in the rest of the movie. The opening scene begins, fittingly enough, on a stormy night. Mark Preston (William Shatner) returns home to find his mother (Ida Lupino) cowering from unseen forces, while his father melts in a puddle on their doorstep. At that moment, he decides to take matters into his own hands by confronting Corbis and his minions on their home turf – a ghost town, somewhere in the Southwest. The movie’s MacGuffin is Corbis’ much-sought-after book, chronicling a list of captured souls, which the Preston family has kept hidden away in the floorboards. As we soon learn in a flashback sequence, Mark’s ancestor once betrayed cult leader Jonathan Corbis (Ernest Borgnine), who was burned at the stake. 300 years later, he’s back for revenge against Preston’s present-day descendants, and desperate to retrieve his book. When Mark suddenly disappears, it’s up to his brother, Dr. Tom Preston (Tom Skerritt) to bring Corbis down. Conveniently for us, Tom’s wife Julie (Joan Prather)* possesses ESP ability, enabling her to see 300 years into the past, when Corbis was persecuted for his beliefs and practices. Now the stage is set for the ultimate showdown between good and evil (or as much as the budget would allow). 

* Fun Fact #1: Shatner, Skerritt and Prather all starred in the Roger Corman production, Big Bad Mama (1974), the previous year.

One of the film’s greatest strengths (lauded by some critics at the time) is Ernest Borgnine’s deranged performance as Jonathan Corbis. Being a cult leader requires a big personality, and Borgnine fits the bill, being warm and congenial one moment, maniacal the next. Borgnine looks especially imposing, when Corbis transforms into a goat demon (“Who calls me from out of the pit?”). In contrast to some of the actors, who appeared to be playing their roles under duress, he seemed to be having a good time. Keenan Wynn, as a local sheriff, is underutilized, but makes the most of his brief appearance. Lupino, on the other hand, is wasted in her thankless role. The much-touted presence of John Travolta does little to enhance one’s viewing experience, as he barely appears in the movie, and is basically unrecognizable under makeup.

(SPOILER ALERT) It’s hard to top the movie poster’s hyperbolic tagline: “Absolutely the most incredible ending of any motion picture ever!” While nothing could possibly live up to that kind of ballyhoo, it’s fun to watch the Satanic congregation melt into red and green globs of goo in the rain (it probably earned the “PG” rating instead of an “R,” due to the unnatural-looking orangey-reds and greens of the effluences).* Unfortunately, the producers never heard the expression, a little goes a long way. Too much of a good thing becomes tedious. Fuest confided that the final scene** goes on too long, with more footage shot by one of the assistant directors at the behest of the producers. 

* Fun Fact #2: According to makeup effects master Tom Burman, the shoestring production couldn’t afford full-body makeup. For the scenes where bodies seem to be withering away, Burman’s crew used inflatable dummies from a sex shop.

** Fun Fact #3: To create the visual effect of wailing souls trapped in a Satanic vessel, the crew fabricated a container around a portable television.

The Devil’s Rain carries on the dubious horror movie tradition of smart people doing dumb things. Both Mark and his brother Tom choose to take on Corbis’ cult while greatly outnumbered (they apparently never learned from the adage, there’s safety in numbers). If nothing else, Tom and his wife didn’t pay attention to the fact that Corbis was defeated 300 years ago by an angry mob of torch-bearing villagers.

It’s difficult to separate the hype from reality when considering the stories swirling around about the film’s production. Rumors of a “cursed” production seem to have no basis in fact, as well as reports of director Robert Fuest’s nervous breakdown (which he flatly denied in his DVD commentary). Whether or not the film was troubled behind the scenes, The Devil’s Rain is a mess. Sadly, the all-star cast doesn’t make up for the weak story, thin characterizations and murky motivations. There’s a kernel of an intriguing story, but the end results are half-baked. Even the director’s commentary (moderated by Marcus Hearn) is lackluster. Fuest (who seemed to have a hazy memory of the production in the first place) frequently veers off-topic, discussing many of his other films (such as The Abominable Dr. Phibes and Wuthering Heights). The Devil’s Rain is probably best remembered for Borgnine’s exuberant performance and the aforementioned ending. It might be worth a look for the curious, but prepare to be underwhelmed.

 

Sources for this article: 2005 commentary by Robert Fuest (moderated by Marcus Hearn), “Confessions of Tom” (2017 interview with Tom Skerritt), “The Devil’s Makeup) (2017 interview with Tom Burman) 

 

Creepy Kids Month Quick Picks and Pans

The Godsend (1980) A strange pregnant woman (Angela Pleasence) shows up at a family’s farmhouse. Before they can get her home, she gives birth and subsequently disappears without a trace. Kate and Alan Marlowe (Cyd Hayman and Malcolm Stoddard) raise the baby, named “Bonnie,” as their own, but one tragedy after another befalls the unsuspecting family. As their other children die off one by one, Alan is convinced the deaths aren’t accidental, but a scheme to replace them with Bonnie (like a human version of a cuckoo). Director Gabrielle Beaumont doesn’t rely on cheap jump scares or pools of blood for this slow-burn horror, film. Instead, The Godsend preys on one of the very real fears parents face – we do our best to keep our children safe, but we can’t possibly watch them all the time. 

Rating: ****. Available on Blu-ray (double-feature disc with The Outing) and Tubi

Cooties (2014) In this horror/comedy from directors Jonathan Milott and Cary Murnion, Elijah Wood plays Clint, a would-be horror author who moves back to his home town. He takes on a gig as a substitute teacher at the local elementary, but soon discovers that he picked the wrong day. A viral outbreak from tainted chicken nuggets turns kids into vicious, flesh-eating zombies. Clint teams up with childhood schoolmate Lucy (Alison Pill), her alpha male boyfriend Wade (Rainn Wilson), and other eccentrics to combat the grade-school menace. Although it’s more than a bit derivative of other zom-coms (especially Zombieland) Cooties has fun with its warped premise, featuring witty dialogue and gore galore. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

 

Alice, Sweet Alice (1976) Tragedy strikes an already fractured family when young Karen (Brooke Shields) is murdered as she’s just about to receive communion. Signs point to her troubled older sister Alice (Paula E. Sheppard) despite largely circumstantial evidence. Their estranged father Dom (Niles McMaster) decides to investigate, but the truth may not be what it seems. Dark, disturbing and perpetually suspenseful, Alice, Sweet Alice keeps you guessing throughout. Watch for a terrific, creepy performance by Alphonso DeNoble as a perverted landlord. 

Rating ***½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Tubi

The Space Children (1958) The title of this nifty little Cold War sci-fi film (directed by Jack Arnold) is a misnomer, since the titular children aren’t from space, but controlled by an extraterrestrial presence (in the form of a squishy glowing brain that resembles one of the eponymous “Gamesters of Triskelion” from the original Star Trek series). A team of scientists working on a top-secret military project (a multi-stage rocket designed to deliver an orbital nuclear warhead platform) are thwarted by their own children, who become the agent of the alien presence. Considering the paranoid era when this film was released, The Space Children is surprisingly critical about the proliferation of nuclear warheads, exposing the hypocrisy of using devastating weaponry as a deterrent for global war. Look for supporting roles by Jackie Coogan (wearing zebra-striped swim trunks) and Russell Johnson (as a hateful alcoholic stepfather). 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

 

Devil Times Five (aka: Peopletoys) (1974) When a van carrying a group of psychiatric ward kids crashes, the adults perish, but the kids emerge unscathed. They find their way to a secluded ski lodge, where they meet a bunch of self-absorbed adults on a business retreat. The kids (including future teen idol Leif Garrett), soon wear out their welcome, with the grown-ups fearing for their lives. The stupid adults are picked off one by one by the obnoxious little twerps (who seem to have borrowed a page from Lord of the Flies), as they make one mistake after another (in one head-scratching scene, a woman goes to sleep while she and her husband are being stalked). The results are goofy and oddly entertaining, albeit improbable. 

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

 

Village of the Damned (1995) On paper, a John Carpenter-helmed retelling of the classic 1957 John Wyndham novel The Midwich Cuckoos sounds like a perfect combination. Unfortunately, the results are lackluster (despite the presence of Carpenter regulars Buck Flowers and Peter Jason), with little evidence of Carpenter’s signature touch. This version moves the action from rural England to rural New England. Christopher Reeve (in his final role before his tragic accident) stars as Dr. Alan Chaffee, a town doctor, who investigates the strange simultaneous births of white-haired children that possess special (and alarming) abilities. This remake takes several major missteps, losing the subtleties of the original film, and depicting the children as succumbing to a type of peer pressure, rather than a hive mind. 

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

 

 

The Children

 

(1980) Directed by Max Kalmanowicz; Written by Carlton J. Albright and Edward Terry; Starring: Martin Shakar, Gil Rogers, Gale Garnett, Shannon Bolin, Tracy Griswold; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ***

“Ed (Terry) and I were friends. We were sitting in my living room one night, after my youngest son Will was born, and we were talking about children, and how they dominate and control, strangulate, your life, especially when they’re young… and you’ve got a bunch of them And we came up with this idea about children on a bus going through a nuclear fog, and they’re looking for their parents again, and when they come back and finally find them, the essence of it is they turn them into eggplant parmesan.” – Carlton. J. Albright (excerpt from 2005 interview)

Let’s face it, even at the best of times, kids are a handful. Sure, they represent our future, since long after we’ve gone, they’re destined to live one. After all, it’s the natural order of things. But at the same time, there’s a darker, almost primal fear about being replaced by them, reinforced by the feeling we’ve outlived our usefulness. It’s an insidiously pervasive thought – the older you get, the greater the realization it’s not your world anymore. Producer/director*/co-writer Carlton J. Albright’s The Children taps into this fear, with kids transformed into homicidal little monsters who target their parents. 

* Fun Fact: Co-writer Edward Terry (who also appears as local townsperson, Hank) was originally considered to direct the film, but was fired due to a falling out with co-writer/producer Albright. They seem to have patched things up several years later, when Terry appeared as the titular character in Albright’s film, Luther the Geek (1989).

Albright and crew filmed in various locations around southern Massachusetts, as well as New Jersey, for the fictional Ravensback* nuclear power plant (represented by a now-defunct conventional PSE&G plant). In a budget-saving measure, the eponymous children were played by the non-professional progeny of the filmmakers.** Many of the same crew subsequently worked on Friday the 13^th (1980), including its music composer, Harry Manfredini.*** While the latter movie became a pop culture phenomenon, spawning numerous sequels and a remake, The Children left a much smaller albeit profitable impact, as a minor hit. 

* Not-So-Fun-Fact: The film’s original title was The Children of Ravensback, but was shortened to The Children, because of “Ravensback’s” similarity to Ravensbruck, a World War II concentration camp. 

** Fun Fact #1: In another money-saving decision, Martin Brennan (in his only role), who appeared briefly as local celebrity Sanford Butler-Jones, was cast simply because he was the film crew’s coke dealer. 

*** Fun Fact #2: Even the most casual movie fans will likely notice Manfredini’s Psycho-influenced score from The Children shares many similarities to his composition for Friday the 13^th (minus the “chh, chh, chh, hah, hah, hah” chorus).

Radioactive steam leaking from a nearby nuclear power plant creates a toxic yellow cloud, which settles on the outskirts of the sleepy town of Ravensback. A school bus full of unsuspecting kids drives through the cloud, setting the plot in motion. When Sheriff Billy Hart (Gil Rogers)* discovers the bus on the side of the road, sans driver and kids, he’s tasked with the unenviable job of notifying the (mostly) incredulous parents. Meanwhile, the children roam the countryside in a transformed state, searching for their parents. With dark circles around their eyes and black fingernails, they look like they just had a goth makeover (but they’re not here to sing about happy houses or Bela Lugosi). Their embrace means death to any unfortunate adult who happens to get too close – faster than you can say, “Three Mile Island,” they’re burned alive. When his deputy succumbs to the children, Sheriff Hart teams up with concerned parent John Fremont (Marting Shakar) to locate the missing children and find a way to deal with the pint-sized terrors.    

* Fun Fact #3: According to Albright, Kevin McCarthy was originally considered for the role of Sheriff Hart, but discussions ultimately went nowhere.

After Hart and Fremont witness the trail of death caused by the kids, they’re faced with an unsavory dilemma – the children are arguably no longer their children, but by all appearances (minus the black fingernails, perhaps), they still are. Although the children are slow-moving and thus easy to evade, their greatest asset is that they appear deceptively innocuous and loving (Who could resist a hug from their kid?). Because the children are impervious to bullets, the sheriff and Fremont devise an impromptu solution to confront the kids with the deadly touch, involving an axe and a katana.*   

* I don’t want to give it away, but let’s just say it’s quite disarming (I’ll see myself out).

 

Albright seemed less than enamored with Shakar’s interpretation of the character John Fremont, claiming the actor somehow made a sympathetic role unsympathetic (“It wasn’t the John Fremont that Ed and I wrote, but it was what me made it into… which was fine.”). Based on Shakar’s performance, it’s easy to agree. He’s a hotheaded creep who barks orders at his pregnant wife (“Make the damn coffee!”) and treats the sheriff like his personal chauffeur. He really drops the ball when he neglects to keep an eye on his son Clarkie (played by director of photography Barry Abrams’ son, Jessie), who’s visited by one of the children (appearing at his bedroom window in a shot reminiscent of an iconic scene from Salem’s Lot). But the Parent of the Year award goes to a missing girl’s self-obsessed mother, Dee Dee (Rita Montone), for her conspicuous lack of concern when the sheriff informs her that her daughter is missing. Instead of reacting like most fearful parents, she appears to be tickled by the prospect of her daughter’s possible kidnapping, and how exciting it would be for their small town.  

The Children shares more than a few superficial similarities with Night of the Living Dead (1968). The first attack occurs in a graveyard, and the children roam the countryside like mindless zombies, searching for more victims. When faced with the prospect of destroying the children, the adults are confronted with the existential dilemma that the children, as they knew them, no longer exist. Also, in a budget-conscious choice that tells rather than shows, a TV news reports suggests the incidents are much more widespread. Unlike George Romero’s horror classic, The Children isn’t particularly suspenseful or scary. Attacks by the slow-moving kids with their outstretched arms elicit more chuckles than chills. Nevertheless, The Children, despite its deficits, manages to wind its way under your skin, thanks to the very real concerns about contamination from nuclear power plants, negligent parents, and fears about our future in the hands of our children. Ultimately, the film bites off more than it can chew, but if you don’t dive too deeply, it’s an enjoyable 90 minutes.

 

Sources for this article: Vinegar Syndrome Blu-ray commentary by Carlton J. Albright, “Childhood Memories: Making the Children” (2018 short), Interview with Carlton J. Albright (2005)