The Raven

 

(1935) Directed by Lew Landers; Written by David Boehm; Based on the poem, “The Raven,” by Edgar Allan Poe; Starring: Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Jeffrey Matthews, Irene Ware, and Samuel S. Hinds; Available on Blu-ray (included in The Universal Horror Collection, Volume 1) and DVD 

Rating: ***½ 

This review is part of the Secret Places and Trippy Houses Blogathon, hosted by Rebecca Deniston from Taking Up Room. Many thanks to Rebecca for making this event a reality! The following review illustrates that wherever Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff go, dark, hidden laboratories follow…

“Death is my talisman, Mr. Chapman. The one indestructible force, the one certain thing in an uncertain universe. Death!” – Dr. Richard Volling (Bela Lugosi)

“You can’t make people believe in you if you’re playing a horror part with your tongue in your cheek. The screen magnifies everything, even the way you are thinking. If you are not serious, people will sense it. No matter how hokum or highly melodramatic the horror part may be, you must believe in it while you are playing it.” – Bela Lugosi (excerpt from New York Times Interview)

It’s good to have a hobby. Some folks like stamp collecting, needlepoint, or model trains.  Dr. Richard Vollin (Bela Lugosi), on the other hand, an ardent Edgar Allan Poe enthusiast, constructs a secret torture chamber based on his favorite author’s works. Following their exceptional performances in The Black Cat (1934), Lugosi and Karloff paired up again in The Raven, a twisted tale of sadism, infatuation and obsession. Although Karloff received top billing* this was clearly Lugosi’s film as the maniacal Dr. Vollin. Under the brisk direction of Lew Landers (aka: Louis Friedlander) and a script by David Boehm,** The Raven was produced on a budget of $109,750 (which eventually grew to $115,209.01). 

* Fun Fact #1: Despite Lugosi dominating the film, as well as the screen time, he only enjoyed second billing, under Karloff (both are billed with their last names, only). He took home $5,000 for five weeks’ work, compared to Karloff’s $10,000 for four weeks’ work.   

** Fun Fact #2: Although Boehm received sole writing credit, the script passed through several hands before it reached him, starting with Guy Endore (Mark of the Vampire). The script subsequently received new iterations from Clarence Marks, Michael Simmons, Jim Tully, and John Lynch. Following his predecessors, Boehm created three complete versions of the script, including some last-minute touch-ups on the final version by Dore Schary.

The movie begins with our heroine, Jean Thatcher (Irene Ware) driving a treacherous winding road in the middle of a stormy night. She loses control of her vehicle, skidding over an embankment. Jean is rushed to hospital, where she lies in a comatose state with nerve damage to her neck, hovering precipitously between life and death. When help is beyond the capabilities of the resident doctors, her father, Judge Thatcher (Samuel S. Hinds), persuades retired surgeon Dr. Vollin to come out of retirement, arguing he’s the best and only hope to save his daughter’s life. Ego appropriately massaged, Vollin agrees. She makes a rapid recovery, but in Vollin’s mind, her obligation to him goes far beyond her father’s gratitude. There’s only one wrinkle – she’s engaged to be married to Vollin’s younger colleague, Dr. Jerry Halden (Lester Matthews), but this obstacle is purely academic to the elder surgeon, who’s becomes entranced by her. When Judge Thatcher senses his infatuation with Jean, he naïvely tries to make him see reason “You don’t want a young girl like Jean falling in love with you.” (Yeah, right.). But Vollin, incapable of taking no for an answer, plots his next move.* Every evil mastermind needs his lackey, and Dr. Vollin finds one in the form of escaped convict Edmond Bateman (Boris Karloff), a man with a propensity towards violence. When Bateman bursts into Vollin’s house, demanding to have his face changed, he gets his wish, but not the way he intended. Vollin severs several nerves, rendering half of his face withered and droopy, including one dead, unblinking eye.**Vollin presents Bateman with a proposition: if he wants his face fixed, he must carry out the doctor’s bidding. Thus begins Vollin’s warped scheme of revenge, which will subject Judge Thatcher, Jean, and her fiancé to the tortures awaiting them in his hidden basement dungeon.*** 

* Fun Fact #4: Consider another movie from 1935, Mad Love, released just a month later, also about infatuation gone toxic. Despite similar themes and a standout performance by Peter Lorre, the arguably superior film from rival studio MGM wasn’t a hit at the time. 

** Fun Fact #3: Considering the fact that makeup pioneer Jack P. Pierce created Karloff’s makeup, the eye (made of bees’ wax and cellophane) looks rather unconvincing. In Pierce’s defense, an earlier version of the makeup used a glass eye, but because it reportedly horrified studio censors, he opted for the makeup used in the film. 

*** Fun Fact #5: Vollin’s dungeon was a recycled, repurposed set originally used in Bride of Frankenstein (1934).

It’s easy to tell Lugosi is having a blast as the deranged Dr. Vollin, who has an unnatural obsession with the works of Poe that goes far beyond a complete library of first editions. In a hidden basement, away from prying eyes, he’s re-created some of the torture devices described by Poe, including a pendulum and a room with moving walls to crush his victims. The self-aggrandizing Vollin views himself as something more than human. After he entertains his adoring patient Jean with haunting music from his pipe organ,* she refers to him as a god. He quickly corrects her: “A god with the taint of human emotions.” When his advances are spurned, he switches into revenge mode, as if he had been waiting for an excuse (any excuse) to try out his torture devices. Judge Thatcher is shackled to a platform, where a swinging bladed pendulum looms every closer. When the judge makes an appeal for sanity, Vollin replies, “I am the sanest man who ever lived! But I will not be tortured! I tear torture out of myself by torturing you!” But Vollin reserves a more Poe-etic death for Jean, when he has her thrown into the crushing chamber with her husband (“You will never be separated, never.”). 

* Fun Fact #6: In addition to featuring Toccata and Fugue in D minor (Bach’s go-to classical piece for villains everywhere) in The Raven, the composition was played by Boris Karloff’s character Hjalmar Poelzig in The Black Cat (1934).  

Karloff does a fine job in a supporting role, as Edmond Bateman, managing to find the humanity in a character who has done horrible things. When his ruined face is first revealed, Dr. Vollin sadistically reveals a wall of full-length mirrors, which Bateman proceeds to shoot out. Vollin’s cruel laughter is offset by Bateman’s growls of frustration and rage, reminiscent of Karloff’s role as Frankenstein’s monster. Besides being the victim of Vollin’s cruel torment, Bateman evokes sympathy for his disfigurement, when the initially shocked Jean apologizes to him for being scared. It is this moment of kindness that will eventually redeem Bateman, and will be Vollin’s undoing. 

Much ado has been made about the supposed rivalry between horror titans Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi (perpetuated by the fun but factually dubious Ed Wood (1994) and its primary source, Nightmare of Ecstasy, by Rudolph Grey). While there may be a kernel of truth about Lugosi’s resentment, there’s no concrete evidence there was any outward animosity between the two actors. In their several collaborations, Karloff always received top billing, as well as the higher salary, but ultimately both enjoyed their craft, displaying a strong sense of professionalism.

Despite several concessions to restrictions mandated by the Production Code,* the finished movie didn’t go over well with critics of the time, who lambasted it for its sadistic themes. The required nips and tucks to the film also didn’t prevent it from being the object of scorn from regional censors, who each took a crack at it (The Raven was banned outright in China, the Netherlands, and in Ontario, Canada). Proving no publicity was bad publicity, however, The Raven was a hit at the box office, and time has vindicated the movie as an example of two horror greats in top form. It’s best not to dwell on the film’s logic (or lack thereof), or the logistics of Vollin constructing an elaborate underground torture chamber underneath his house (Did he hire contractors or did he carry out the construction himself? If he did hire contractors, which seems the most likely option, how did he get them to maintain their silence? So many questions, so few answers.). If you’re anything like me, you’ll stop worrying about what does or doesn’t make sense, and just run with it. The Raven had the unfortunate luck to follow Karloff and Lugosi’s greatest paring, just a year before, in The Black Cat (1934), which has always overshadowed the actors’ subsequent efforts. But even if it’s considered a somewhat “lesser” effort you’re bound to have a devilishly good time. 

* Fun Fact #7: The British Board of Censors were so incensed by The Raven that they refused to evaluate any further horror films… resulting in Hollywood temporarily halting production of horror movies. 

 

Sources for this article: DVD commentary by Steve Haberman; “A Good Game: Karloff and Lugosi at Universal, Part Two”; Karloff and Lugosi – The Story of a Haunting Collaboration, by Gregory William Mank

 

 

The Mystery of the Wax Museum

 

(1933) Directed by Michael Curtiz; Written by Don Mullaly and Carl Erickson; Based on “The Wax Works,” by Charles Belden; Starring: Lionel Atwill, Fay Wray, Glenda Farrell, Frank McHugh, Allen Vincent and Gavin Gordon; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ****

“…It was kind of a beautiful feeling, because it was a wonderful gown, and it was a pleasure to just be still as possible, like a statue. And it was not eerie; it was a charming feeling...” – Fay Wray (on playing a wax statue) (archival interview from Blu-ray commentary) 

“My dear, why are you so pitifully afraid? Immortality has been the dream, the inspiration of mankind through the ages. And I am going to give you immortality!” – Ivan Igor (Lionel Atwill)

There’s something undeniably uncanny about wax figures, especially when they’re expertly done. Their mimicry of life can be so convincing that we may be prompted to wonder, “Is it a dummy or the real thing?” This premise has long fascinated and horrified filmmakers and audiences alike, toying with the idea that they might be more than they seem. Michael Curtiz’s follow-up to 1932’s Doctor X, The Mystery of the Wax Museum, was also filmed in two-strip Technicolor,* including much of the same crew as the previous movie, and once again pairing of Fay Wray with Lionel Atwill. Produced on a budget of $279,000, Curtiz, cast and crew worked extremely long hours under lighting that was five times the intensity required for black and white film stock, making the set unbearably hot. 

* Fun Fact #1: According to film preservationist Scott MacQueen, the movie was the last feature film made by Warner Brothers in the 2-color process, having fulfilled their contract with Technicolor.

Our story begins in London, circa 1921,* in Ivan Igor’s (Lionel Atwill) wax museum, where he proudly shows off his remarkably lifelike creations. To him, they’re more than just inanimate objects – he almost regards them as his children, especially the figure of Marie Antoinette (Fay Wray). As is often the case, however, art and finances don’t always mix, as evidenced by Igor’s business partner (Edwin Maxwell), who proposes the inelegant solution of torching the place to get the insurance money (apparently insurance investigators weren’t very picky in those days). Despite Igor’s ardent protests, the museum goes up in flames. Skip forward to present-day (well…uh, 1930s-era) New York City, where Igor is set to open a new wax museum. With his hands irreparably damaged from the fire, he can no longer create the figures himself, so he supervises (okay, browbeats) a team of sculptors to make his dream live again. Meanwhile, ace reporter Florence (Glenda Farrell)** is looking to get a scoop (any scoop) for New Year’s Day that will save her job from the chopping block. When she learns the city morgue is one corpse short (a young socialite who committed suicide), she begins to dig deeper into the mystery. Her investigation leads to a sneak peek at Igor’s menagerie, where something seems fishy – in particular, a Joan of Ark statue, which bears a remarkable resemblance to said socialite. Her roommate Charlotte (Fay Wray) happens to date one of Igor’s sculptors, Ralph (Allen Vincent), when a visit to his workplace catches the eye of Igor (Surprise! She’s a dead ringer for his long-lost, beloved Marie Antoinette). Charlotte innocently accepts his request to pose for him, unaware that a more sinister purpose lies in store for her. 

* Fun Fact #2: In the U.K., the caption indicating the time and place was removed, due to its association with a real fire that occurred at Madam Tussaud’s in 1925 London.

Although Fay Wray was billed above her, it’s really Glenda Farrell’s movie, as the go-getting reporter Florence,* who’s not afraid to poke her nose where it isn’t wanted. She shares an apartment with Charlotte (Wray), where we catch a glimpse of the dynamic between the two young women in a scene where they debate the relative virtues of marrying for love versus money. It’s a shame there weren’t more scenes with the two verbally sparring together, which could have been a movie in itself. Instead, we’re treated to some fun banter between Florence and her gruff editor Jim (Frank McHugh), proving she’s more than a match for any man. She’s not intimidated by a male-dominated world or being assertive when the situation demands it. As a result, it’s more than a bit disappointing when she ultimately sacrifices her career for financial security with a millionaire playboy. 

* Fun Fact #3: Farrell’s plucky character was the inspiration for ace reporter Lola “Torchy” Lane (also played by Farrell) in the 1937 movie The Adventurous Blonde, which in turn became the inspiration for Superman co-creator Jerry Siegel to create the character, Lois Lane.

Wray is charming as usual, in the role of Charlotte Duncan. As befits one of the original scream queens, there’s more than ample opportunity to exercise her lungs in a few scenes, but she’s more than just a pretty face. In contrast to Florence’s brash, take-no-prisoners approach, Charlotte is sensitive and demure, managing to look glamorous without being overbearing. Compared to her money-obsessed roommate, she’d rather spend her days with a starving artist. 

Top-billed Lionel Atwill is compelling as the tortured Ivan Igor. Atwill brings pathos to the role as a man who watched his life’s work go up in smoke and is subsequently forced to defer his craft to others, in an attempt to recreate what he lost. His motivation for revenge against his deceitful former business partner is relatable. Unfortunately, our sympathy for him goes off the rails when he resorts to body stealing and murder to achieve his ends. In his mind, it’s all for the love of his art – pesky things like morals and ethics need not apply.

Cinematographer Ray Rennahan, art director Anton Grot, and costume designer Orry-Kelly make the most of the limitations of the film stock’s predominately red/green palette,* allowing our minds to fill in the blanks for the missing colors. If anything, the two-strip process lends the movie a somewhat unworldly look, perfect for the ghoulish subject matter. Likewise, the set design adds a level of unreality to the mix, ideal for such an outlandish tale. One example is the impressive workroom, where Igor carries out his fiendish plans, with its massive steel beams bathed in green light and a giant vat of boiling wax. I can’t address the practicality of such a setup, but it’s sure great to look at. 

* Fun Fact #4: Due to the limitations of the format, photographing pure white objects/clothing was impractical. As a workaround, the filmmakers opted for off-white/beige, in place of white.

The Mystery of the Wax Museum is a contender for one of the most disturbing films from the 1930s. Seeing the wax figures* melt and collapse in the prologue is sheer nightmare fodder. Another sequence that must have made some audience members jump in their seats depicts a freshly embalmed corpse rising up with a loud sigh, giving a novice coroner the fright of his life. I can’t speak for the veracity* of the scene, but it’s undeniably creepy. A subsequent sequence when a sheet-covered body is lowered outside the morgue window prompted cries for its removal. The film fared far worse in some countries outside the U.S., with censors calling for substantial cuts or the film being banned outright. Another moment (which reportedly was too much for Fay Wray during the first take) was the big reveal of Lionel Atwill’s face makeup, by an uncredited Perc Westmore. 

* Fun Fact #5: Two to three extra heads were kept on hand for the primary wax figures, in case their heads melted under the intense lighting. 

** Fun Fact #6: According to one funeral director’s FAQs, bodies are “physically incapable” of sitting up. As far as sounds emanating from corpses, however, it’s possible for trapped air to pass through the vocal cords, creating a semblance of moaning (Sleep well, folks!).

While The Mystery of the Wax Museum wasn’t a favorite with most critics* or regional censors,** it went on to be a hit at the box office, earning a respectable $1.1 million. The theme of creepy wax figures or clay sculptures being more than they seem has been re-used, recycled, and regurgitated for more than a century. The Mystery of the Wax Museum was remade in the 1950s, in Eastmancolor and 3D, as House of Wax, starring Vincent Price in the Lionel Atwill role, and revived in the early 2000s, once again, as House of Wax (the less said about that version, the better) From Waxworks (1924), to Santo in the Wax Museum (1963), to Wax Mask (1996), one thing is for certain. We haven’t seen the last of this perpetually enduring (and blood-chilling) subject. 

* Fun Fact #7: Here’s a sampling of 1933 review quotes from the New York premiere at the Strand Theatre (Personally, I’m with the third quote):

·       “…it is an absurd and tedious film of the thriller-chiller school.” (American)

·       “…the result is too ghastly for comfort (Times)

·       “Director Michael Curtiz makes an obvious endeavor to keep audiences’ toes a-tingling. And how it succeeds!” (News)

·       “In spite of the intenseness on the macabre, it never achieves anything but a wax-like imitation of horror.” (Post) 

** Fun Fact #8: In the town of Hereford, England, the film was initially banned for being “a very objectionable film,” only to have the ban lifted a week later, although it could not be shown on Sundays.

 

Sources for this article: Blu-ray commentary by Scott MacQueen, head of preservation, UCLA Film & Television Archive; “Remembering Fay Wray” (interview with Wray’s daughter, Victoria Riskin); “New York Reviews,” The Hollywood Reporter (Feb. 21, 1933); “Hereford Film Ban,” Kinematograph Weekly (Sept. 14, 1933); “Hereford’s Second Thoughts,” Kinematograph Weekly (Sept. 21, 1933); “The Mystery of the Wax Museum,” by Scott MacQueen, American Cinematographer (April 1990)

Witchcraft Month Quick Picks and Pans

Bell, Book and Candle (1958) It’s hard not to be captivated by director Richard Quine’s whimsical adaptation of John Van Druten’s play, about Gillian Holroyd (Kim Novak), a witch who must rethink her ways after finding the man of her dreams. James Stewart (who co-starred with Novak the same year in Vertigo) plays the object of her affection, Shepherd Henderson. One of the many highlights is Elsa Lanchester’s brilliant, eccentric supporting performance, as Gillian’s meddling aunt Queenie. The strong cast also features Jack Lemmon as Gillian’s slightly-less-talented warlock brother, Ernie Kovacs as a hack writer, and Hermoine Gingold as a rival witch. 

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

 

The Witch’s Mirror (aka: El Espejo de la Bruja) (1962) After she’s poisoned by her scheming doctor husband Eduardo (Armando Calvo), Elena (Dina De Marco) returns as a vengeful spirit to torment him and his new wife Deborah (Rosita Arenas). When Deborah becomes horribly disfigured in a fire, Eduardo tries to restore her appearance, using skin grafts from cadavers. Unsurprisingly, things don’t proceed as planned. The Witch’s Mirror packs a lot of entertainment in its scant 76-minute running time, channeling an E.C. Comics-style revenge story, while drenched in gothic atmosphere.  

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray (included in the Indicator Mexico Macabre box set) and DVD

 

The Devonsville Terror (1983) Director/co-writer Uli Lommel’s uneven but sporadically engaging film is set in New England but was shot in Wisconsin. In the brief prologue, circa 1683, three women accused of witchcraft in a small village are summarily tried and executed. Before the leader perishes, she vows revenge against the descendants of those who wronged them. 300 years later, three women arrive in town, where not much has changed about the residents’ attitudes toward women. One bright spot is Donald Pleasence as Dr. Warley, who contends with a centuries-old curse that causes a deadly worm infestation. While the incel-like behavior of the male townspeople is tough to watch, their gory, over-the-top comeuppance might make this worth a look. 

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

 

The Witches Mountain (1973) After he rejects his ex-girlfriend’s offer for a whirlwind vacation, a photojournalist immerses himself in a new assignment to investigate a mystery in the countryside. He encounters a coven of witches residing in the mist-shrouded mountains, but their discovery could mean his doom. The Witches Mountain is distinguished primarily for having been banned by the Spanish government at the time for its supernatural subject. While the cinematography is excellent, it’s slow moving and ultimately unsatisfying. 

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray

 

The Witchmaker (aka: The Naked Witch) (1969) A group of college researchers travel to a Louisiana bayou to study the witchcraft practitioners in the area. Meanwhile, a warlock, Luther the Berserk (John Lodge),lurks in the shadows, searching for potential victims (he drains their blood to keep his ancient witch lover alive). The clueless students are picked off one by one. Somehow, the movie manages to squander its premise, dragging on and on, with too many talky scenes. Don’t be deceived by the lurid alternate title, which promises more than it delivers. 

Rating **. Available on Blu-ray, DVD (Out of Print), Prime Video and Tubi 

Necropolis (1986) In the film’s prologue, set in New Amsterdam, Eva (LeeAnne Baker) a powerful witch (who knew 17^th century witches had permed hair, and wore lingerie and blue eye shadow?) is hunted down and destroyed. The story jumps forward three centuries to modern-day New York, where the reincarnated witch, now sporting a New Wave hairdo runs amok in the city. A police detective and a snooping reporter combine forces to track down the ancient baddie. Writer/director Bruce Hickey’s would-be Satanic panic movie is filled with laughable dialogue, cheap sets, and mediocre makeup, but its worst offense is that it pulls its punches. Avoid this tepid mess. 

Rating: 2 stars. Available on DVD and Tubi

 

Introducing The Hammer-Amicus Blogathon V

 

Where has the time gone? It only seems like yesterday when, I, along with my superb blogging partner in crime Gill from Realweegiemidget Reviews, introduced the Hammer-Amicus Blogathon back in 2018. Believe it or not, we’re back for round five! Through this series of blogathons, we hope to keep the spirit of these iconic production companies alive (Be sure to check out Gill’s post for a special message from legendary Hammer actress Judy Matheson)! Since this is the fifth iteration of this blogathon, we decided to add a little twist. Read on for more details…

 Tales That Witness Madness

What’s the twist? Especially during the period of the ‘60s through the ‘70s, a number of Hammer/Amicus lookalikes popped up, featuring familiar actors such as Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Michael Ripper, as well as directors like Terence Fisher and Freddie Francis. These movies prompted many of us to do a double take – if it looks like Hammer or Amicus, it must be, right? Well, based on this premise, we decided to permit some of these “clone” productions this time around. You’re welcome to run any potential title by us, but here are just a few examples to get you started: 

·       Tigon British Film Productions – The Blood Beast Terror (1968), The Creeping Flesh (1973), The Crimson Cult (1968), The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971)

·       Planet Film Productions – Island of Terror (1966), Night of the Big Heat (1967)

·       Tyburn Film Productions – The Ghoul (1975), Legend of the Werewolf (1975)

·       Glendale Films – The Asphyx (1972), Crucible of Terror (1971)

·       World Film Services – Tales that Witness Madness (1973)

·       Tempean Films – Blood of the Vampire (1958)

If you’ve participated in either of the past Hammer-Amicus Blogathons, welcome back. If this is your first time joining us, we’re glad to have you aboard. Either way, be sure to read our rules below, as a few items have changed (plus a new rule). Don’t have a blog, but you’d like to take part? In addition to blog posts, participants may submit a link to their Instagram or Facebook post, podcast, YouTube video, finger paintings, or whatever. As long as it’s original content and covers some facet of Hammer or Amicus productions (or one of the aforementioned look-alikes), we’ve got you covered.

Once again, it’s time for my occasional public service message, reminding you that Hammer and Amicus productions are much more than horror. In their respective catalogs, you’ll find adventures, dramas, war movies, noir, sci-fi, wacky comedies, psychological thrillers, and a mix of genres. With all those choices, there’s virtually a Hammer or Amicus movie for every mood and preference. We encourage you to peruse the titles found in the links below (we’re always happy to provide suggestions, as well).

You may find a complete list of Hammer films here. 

…and a list of Amicus films here.

What: The Hammer-Amicus Blogathon V 

Who: Hosted by Yours Truly (Barry P.) and Gill Jacob 

Where: Cinematic Catharsis and Realweegiemidget Reviews 

When: November 7-9, 2025 (plus a bonus wrap-up day) 

How: Please read the rules below, and send me your post request via email (barry_cinematic@yahoo.com), BlueSky (@barrycinematic.bsky.social), Twitter/X (@barry_cinematic), Instagram (barry_cinematic), or by commenting below. You may also contact Gill by commenting on her post, or through her blog’s Contact Me page. Be sure to include a link to your blog, your blog’s title, and your preferred name.

THE RULES… 

1.     You may review ANY Hammer or Amicus film or TV show. Hammer and Amicus-related book reviews are fine.

2.     Alternatively, you may review one of the many Hammer/Amicus look-alike productions, such as the ones mentioned above, or contact us

3.     We will not allow duplicate film titles, UNLESS you are covering a series of films or a retrospective of an actor/filmmaker’s work.

4.     A maximum of TWO entries will be permitted. (You may choose one post from Hammer and one from Amicus …or both can be Hammer or Amicus, or a combination of Hammer/Amicus look-alikes and the real deal. The choice is yours!)

5.     When responding with your choice, be sure to add your BlueSky/Twitter/Instagram/Mastodon handle or a link to your Facebook page so we can promote your post.

6.     Please choose one of the banners below to display on your blog.

7.     A full list of blogs, podcasters and review choices will be posted on a separate page and updated regularly.

8.     Only original, never-before-published posts will be accepted.

9.     Send a link to your post/podcast/video to Gill and me during one of the days of the blogathon.

10.  Note: we will publish all the links on both blogs, with daily updates on November 7, 8, and 9. If you plan to participate, but you’re running late, please let us know as soon as possible, so we can post a last-minute update.

11.  Please also note: Gill and I have already claimed the following the titles below, so they are off the table, unless they’re included in a larger retrospective (see Rule #3 above). 

Barry at Cinematic Catharsis – Hammer: The Ugly Duckling (1959) 

Gill at Realweegiemidget Reviews –Amicus: The Beast Must Die (1974)

 

 

                                

                                            

As always, we look forward to your posts!

 

Season of the Witch

 

(1973) Written and directed by George A. Romero; Starring: Jan White, Raymond Laine, Ann Muffly, Joedda McClain, Bill Thunhurst, Neil Fisher, and S. William Hinzman; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ***½

“The film and the character of Joan grew out of the time, I think. I mean, it just grew out of the late ‘60s/early ‘70s, when it seems as though women were wanting to break out. This is not career stuff – it’s not the glass ceiling or anything like that, it was just a woman’s role at home and a woman is less than a compete citizen of the world, of a marriage, or a relationship, and it just seems like that was happening… There was a lot in the press back then… It was women’s lib… and all the beginning rumblings of that, and I just thought it would be a good topic for a film…” – George A. Romero (from 2005 Anchor Bay interview)

After the runaway success of his independent debut feature, Night of the Living Dead (1968), fans of the film likely expected Pittsburgh-based filmmaker George A. Romero to continue in that vein. Instead, he chose to focus on character-driven dramas, starting with the fractured romance, There’s Always Vanilla (aka: The Affair) (1971), followed by his third feature, Season of the Witch.* Shot in 16 mm for a budget of only $90,000,* Season of the Witch failed to make much of an impact with audiences or critics (much like its predecessor), dying a quick death at the box office. Although it might be stretching things a bit by stating the movie has enjoyed a second wind, it’s long overdue for a much-deserved reassessment. 

* Fun Fact #1: Romero shot and directed several short documentary-style segments for another famous Pittsburgh-based production, Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. His most noteworthy effort on the show was the 1971 segment, "Mister Rogers Gets a Tonsillectomy," which Romero joked was the scariest film he ever made. 

** Fun Fact #2: The original title of the film was Jack’s Wife, which distributor Jack H. Harris rejected. The film was subsequently edited down from 130 to 90 minutes, re-titled Hungry Wives, and marketed as a softcore movie. Years later, in an effort to cash in on Romero’s horror legacy, it was re-titled Season of the Witch. 

*** Fun Fact #3: The movie was originally budgeted at $250,000, but when the original financer went belly up, Romero was left with a fraction of that amount.

 

From the opening dream sequence (the first of several), we learn all we need to know about Joan’s relationship with her husband Jack. She walks several steps behind him, while tree branches smack her in the face. Along the way, she sees a baby on a blanket,* before catching up with her husband to provide his morning coffee. When he discovers her sitting in his car, he smacks her with a newspaper and leads her around by a leash,** before locking her in a dog kennel. Joan’s real life isn’t much better, with a husband who’s constantly gone on business trips, and a 19-year-old daughter she barely sees. When Jack is home, their bed is someplace to sleep, nothing more. Now entering middle age and stuck in a perennial malaise, she’s trapped in a domestic cage of lonely servitude. To make matters worse, she’s haunted by recurring nightmares of a menacing intruder in a mask, *** who attempts to break into her house.**** But life is about to change for Joan, in ways she could scarcely imagine…  

* Fun Fact #4: While never expressly stated in the movie, Jan White confirmed in an interview that the baby was supposed to be Joan’s son, who died during infancy. 

** Random Observation (MILD SPOILER ALERT): Compare this sequence to a scene towards the end of the movie, when Joan is led around with a red rope (which matches the color of the leash) during her witch’s initiation ceremony. 

*** Fun Fact #5: The intruder is played by Bill Hinzman (best known as the graveyard ghoul who pursues Barbra in Night of the Living Dead), who also served as Romero’s assistant cameraman. 

**** Fun Fact #6: Joan’s suburban Pittsburgh house belonged to the parents of Christine Forrest, who would eventually become Romero’s second wife.

 

Season of the Witch is at once a snapshot of the time it was made, as well as a sign of the social revolution that was about to take place in American society. Like many marriages from their generation, Joan and Jack’s relationship isn’t based in compatibility or love, but a social contract, reinforced by societal expectations. Jack fulfills the stereotypical male role of the time, boorish, laconic, and guided by thoughts rather than emotions. They don’t have dialogues, just parallel monologues. As the self-ordained breadwinner, Jack goes off on his business trips, leaving Joan to handle the household, which includes keeping an eye on their 19-year-old daughter Nikki (Joedda McClain). When Nikki unexpectedly runs off, he lashes out at Joan, slapping her because she failed to do what he considered to be her parental duty. Meanwhile, he doesn’t take any accountability for raising Nikki (the depth of his parenting advice is “You kick some ass!”). Instead of shouldering the blame for any perceived parental shortcomings, he condescendingly addresses Joan like a child who misbehaved. Both are conditioned by society to accept their stereotypical gender roles, with Joan embodying the outdated, misogynistic, hetero-centric view that the woman must dutifully sublimate her dreams and desires for the man in her life.

The soul of Season of the Witch is Jan White’s* courageous, naturalistic performance as the beleaguered housewife Joan. We see the turning point in Joan’s life in the scene where she regards her reflection in the mirror, and to her horror sees a much older, withered version of herself staring back. This nicely contrasts with another scene in which Nikki compliments her mother on her nice figure – Joan might be older, but she’s not dead. Another catalyst in Joan’s transformation arrives in the form of smug college professor Gregg (Raymond Laine), who challenges her staid notions of domestic life. Even though he’s never meant to be more than a fling, his bluntness provokes something inside her. Ultimately, it’s not a man that ignites her passions, but the siren call of witchcraft. While Season of the Witch is arguably not a movie about witchcraft, it plays a pivotal role for Joan, representing a means of asserting herself as an individual with agency over her life Whether she really evokes the supernatural isn’t important – it's her belief in herself that matters most.   

* Fun Fact #7: Jan White was initially reluctant to accept the role because it required nudity. She relented after Romero assured her that extra sex scenes were added to the script only so he could attract funding for his movie. A body double was provided for the film’s penultimate scene, when she’s initiated into a coven.

George A. Romero commented that of all his films, he would like to have done a remake of Season of the Witch, because he didn’t feel he was mature enough to tackle the subject at the time, but that seems to be selling himself short. It’s a vast topic that could never be contained in one film, but while the results are sometimes rough around the edges, Romero handles the subject matter with sensitivity and compassion. Romero focused on one particular character, Joan, and her personal struggles for autonomy and significance in a society where she was effectively a second-class citizen. Romero’s character-driven film likely baffled audiences expecting another horror flick. Instead, it was neither erotic nor horrific enough (at least from a surface glance) to please viewers expecting these elements. Instead, we were treated to a thoughtful drama with horror-adjacent elements. Rather than an outlier, Season of the Witch fits neatly in Romero’s filmography, including themes he would explore again and again: criticism of the status quo, performative religious practice, and infuriating authority figures. As much as I’d like to say Joan’s domestic prison is a relic of the past, this attitude has somehow managed to persist in modern society like a virus that refuses to die. Unfortunately, due to lazy marketing, the film failed to connect with audiences. As a title, Jack’s Wife was perhaps too generic to capture anyone’s attention, while Hungry Wives was simply misleading. Season of the Witch was probably the best title, since it wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but whatever you care to call the film, it’s a significant achievement in Romero’s filmography. 

* Fun Fact #8: According to film writer Travis Crawford, this was the first of Romero’s movies to feature a tracking shot (in the scene where Joan shops for tools of the witch’s trade). 

 

Sources for this article: “Digging up the Dead: The ‘Lost’ films of George A. Romero,” interview with George A. Romero (Anchor Bay, 2005); “The Secret Life of Jack’s Wife,” interview with Jan White; Arrow Blu-ray commentary by Travis Crawford; “This ‘Mister Rogers' Neighborhood’ Segment Was Directed by a Horror Icon,” by Andrew McGowan, Collider (June 30, 2023); “George Romero on Zombies & Season of the Witch Remake?” by Ammon Gilbert, JoBlo (2010)