While watching the movie again last night (I've lost count of how many times I've seen it), I was struck by how that poster described one scene in the movie particularly. If there was any character most affected by the terror, it was poor Barbara. Already skittish about being in the cemetery at the start, the teasing by her brother didn't help things. Then when the attacks begin, her fragile psyche began to fracture, the fear pounding at her mental defenses like the zombies pounding at the doors. As she takes refuge in the farmhouse, her mind also begins to take refuge in the deeper basement levels of shocked isolation. Unable to face the reality of the situation, she begins a rapid descent into a withdrawn catatonia and state of shock.
Actress Judith O'Dea portrayed a woman whose fear eats away at her before the living dead ever get a chance. We see her begin to fall apart as events beyond her understanding close in around her, going from hysterical denial to simply sitting and staring into space, disconnected from the situation and people around her. Only at the end, as she is grabbed by her reanimated brother and dragged out into the hungry crowd of dead clutching hands, does she seem to come to her senses and make an effort to fight back. Sadly, it is too late, as she is overcome and devoured alive.
I made this series of screen captures below to illustrate the emotional meltdown, from one short scene as Barbara relates to Ben how she and Johnny were attacked and her brother killed. The outburst ends with her unreasonable demand that they go find him, and when Ben tells her that her brother is dead, she slaps him. One quick jab by Ben to the jaw later, Barbara faints, overcome by the emotion, and retreats from reality for the rest of the film.
Although there is an impulse to laugh at the display and consider it overacting by Judith and histronics by Barbara, within the context of the film it plays as a pathetic and pitiable expression of terror too terrible to handle. It seems to indicate a psychological problem brought to the surface and exacerbated by the end of normalcy.
Now, that's Acting, folks! A whole movie's worth of emoting (possibly several), compressed into one short scene about a minute long. Under different circumstances she might have been given the "Shatner Award For Acting Excellence" statue. As it is, we are left hoping we never come to such an emotionally-devasting place where we fall apart in like manner. But if you do laugh at least once while watching it, I can't really blame you. Watching a nervous breakdown in progress is funny until it happens to someone you know.
Oh, and for a change of gears, from fear to fun, here is the next installment of strips from "Garfield In Disguise."
To be continued!
When we last saw Michael Myers in the classic film, he had been shot six times by Dr. Loomis (without so much as a "put your hands up!" warning) and taken a nasty tumble from the second-story balcony of the Wallace house where he had attacked Laurie Strode. But that hardly slowed him down, and within only a few seconds he had gotten up and vanished, to finish out the entire Halloween night in the sequel, "Halloween II."
The closing scene of the first movie described above was re-shot for the opening scene of the second, probably because there were subtle differences between the Shapes of the two films. It's somewhat humorous to note how obvious it is that the stuntman is backing up a ramp installed on the balcony as he is "shot," to better help him to fall straight back onto the airbag. And the outline of his body left in the grass is almost cartoon-like, to make sure the viewer gets the fact that he is no longer where he fell. The place where his body lay looks like a flat wooden cutout was pressed down on the grass and stepped on by five or six heavy men, to make such an even impression. Michaels' body would have had to have been perfectly flat on the bottom to leave such an imprint.
Lacking the atmospheric buildup of the first film, and Carpenter's direction, the second film directed by Rick Rosenthal is more workman-like and by-the-numbers. It's not as good as the original by any means, but I still watch it after the first one every October at least once or twice. The credits are cooler, the music gets some added themes, some gorier wince-inducing kills (the one with the naughty nurse in the hothothot tub was especially memorable) we learn that Laurie is Michael's sister, and that they trick-or-treated a lot later back then than they do now. It's not a bad follow-up at all, and notable in that it takes up directly after the first one without a moment lost between them. It really does continue the story and for that reason it's part of a whole. Now, I never cared for any of the later sequels, and felt them to be a cheat. Dr. Loomis got blowed up real good, and shows up again later with only a slight scarring on his face? Michael was reduced to a smoldering husk and then he's good again? I don't buy it. It ended with "II" as far as I'm concerned; it was made with the intention of concluding the story of Michael and Laurie and that's good enough for me.
However, all of Michael's toughness and ability to weather six bullets ("I shot him six times! I shot him six times!") and overall badness I attribute to the fact that he was wearing an altered Captain Kirk mask. Yes, The Face of the Almighty Shat imparted his powers and mere knitting needles, knives, coat hangers and bullets were no match for him. If only he had used those powers for good!
As I mentioned on my other blog "Monster Memories," I'll be out of town for a few days. A short vacation, if you will. So, as I feverishly try to get several days worth of work ahead, I'm squeezing in a little post here just to present something new. The skull-faced killer on the pretty-neat artwork qualifies it for a guest appearance here on Sweet Skulls.
But I wonder... Inn of the Damned what? "Damned leaky roof?" "Damned lumpy mattress?" "Damned toilets that won't flush all the way, leaving bits of corn and paper swirling around in it?" "Inn of the Damned Ice-Machine That Doesn't Work?" The title is a bit vague.
I scanned in the video-release promotional sheet for this movie, sent to video stores back in 1984. I've never seen the movie, released in 1975, but the line "in the tradition of Hitchcock" basically clues you in that it's a rip-off of... er, "homage" to The Rotund One's classic film "Psycho." If you've seen it, tell me what you thought of it in the comments.
Have a good weekend, and I'll see ya, in a manner of speaking, next week when I get back!
Oh, yeah, lumber over and visit my equally-perfunctory (but more entertaining) blog entry for today over at "Monster Memories." It's a scan of an article in a 1975 issue of Monsters Of The Movies featuring an interview with Elsa Lanchester.
If you don't know who that is, go whip yourself for not being educated about the classic monster movies. And don't enjoy it, it's punishment.
Synopsis: "A team consisting of a physicist, his wife, a young female psychic and the only survivor of the previous visit are sent to the notorious Hell House to prove or disprove survival after death. Previous visitors have either been killed or gone mad, and it is up to the team to survive a full week in isolation, and solve the mystery of the Hell House."
Once again, I am fooled by misleading poster art. Just FYI, there is no scene wherein a woman's bloody hand holds a miniature model of the Hell House, and there is certainly no giant skull with one green eye floating over it. And I waited the whole movie to see that scene! Skunked again.
Seriously, though, that's an awesomely iconic image that really sends a chill down one's spine. Since it's so well-remembered by the public, can you tell me why, oh, why the DVD cover designer turned up his or her nose at using it? And why they substituted a seemingly random screen-grab that (A.) not only tells you nothing of the film and does not make one want to see it, but (B.) is hard to even tell what it is.
Come on, people; use the famous poster art for the DVDs of horror movies like this and stop thinking you know better, 'cause you don't. Your college degree in art and design taught you nothing. Get your nose out of your Starbucks and realise that the movie poster artists of the past put you to shame, and then get over yourself and use their stuff.
On Christmas at Hell House, it's more likely a demon walking on the roof than Santa and his reindeer.
"How much are they paying us for this again?"
"I've got a bad feeling about this."
And although the events in the film take place over the Christmas holidays, this is not a film to put on in December to cheer one up, but rather at Halloween or days thereabout. The spirit of peace and goodwill usually prevelent during the holidays doesn't penetrate these walls to the slightest degree. The atmospheric photography really bring an aura of foreboding fear that few other haunted house movies can match, much less surpass.
Being perpetually fog-shrouded should have been warning enough.
"Of course I'm not gay, where did you ever hear that rumor? By the way, that is a simply horrid outfit you're sporting. Who dressed you, the dog?"
For a great review of the movie, check out the typically-insightful post at John Morehead's typically-insightful "Theofantastique" site. With stuff like that out there, I won't even embarrass myself with doing one.
"Oh, no... how did the FBI find out about my pirated film collection?"
In case the above reference leaves you stumped, here's the story. It's quite an interesting read! Makes you appreciate the availability and low prices of films for the individual now. Poor Roddy just lived at a bad time for movie collectors.
The cat knows something, but he ain't telling. Cats are notorious for not volunteering information, and for leaping on your back when you are least expecting it.
"I'm sensing something... Flicka? Is that you?"
Below are pictures of the actual location used for filming; Wykehurst Park, near the village of Bolney, East Sussex, in England. Not exactly a place to vacation to recover from depression.
Wikipedia entry:
Wykehurst Park is an elegant 130 room 150 year old mansion located near the village of Bolney, East Sussex, in England. The house came into prominence in the early seventies when the external shots of the house were used to film the horror film, "The Legend of Hell House," a psychological horror film, where the house lends its image to the horrifying nature of the story. It is a gothic mansion with turrets and arches and conical roofs, and many architectural devices to give it the appearance of a fairytale mansion from bygone days. The large black gates are fashioned in wrought iron. Alongside these gates, massive griffins with spread wings, perch on either side, and guard the entrance to the property which leads through a pebble drive to a grassed patio surrounding it, descending to a garden laid to lawn at the back. If you are able to get right up to the French windows you will just be able to view a grand, wide, polished wood staircase beginning the passage to the numerous rooms and accommodation upstairs.
Wykehurst Place, Bolney, West Sussex, England, UK
which was a notebook-bound slick book of stills, behind-the-scenes pics and info, all in a special slipcase. Classy.
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