Classy Dames Do Fear 😱

 

Classy Dames Do Fear

By Kristin Battestella

These elegant ladies face mid-century murder, psychedelic mayhem, and medieval mysteries in this quartet of retro frights.

Cult of the Damned – Rich houses, antiques, elite splendor, and denial about one's father in the shower with another man and mother Jennifer Jones (Ruby Gentry) doing stag films open this 1969 AIP release also called Angel Angel Down We Go. The delusions escalate as daughter Holly Near (The Magical Garden of Stanley Sweetheart) feels fat and ugly compared to her not so perfect parents. Slit wrists intercut with guillotines, ironic music, and pop graffiti reflect our Angel's warped state of mind. Stage-like settings and twofer scenes reiterate the dysfunctional relationships mixing both oedipal and Electra favoritism, jealously, and violence. The top billed, soft focused Jones always has bare shoulders or sheer, glamorous frocks, pill popping yet graceful compared to her chaotic daughter, and her coming out party is really for them to show off how they have given her everything – save for the love and kindness she desires. They wonder who would want her save for her inheritance, but heady singers and tight leather pants lead to leopard print seduction, pillows, furs, and a goofy sex scene with Roddy McDowell (Planet of the Apes), singer Lou Rawls, and a pregnant girl dressed as pilgrim. Implied abuses, Angel's being taken advantage of brainwashing, kidnappings, and escalating gang violence are played humorously, and the parody of the times coming within those times gets lost in some of the put on groovy dialogue. Social commentaries on American Imperialism and palatial lifestyles collide with bloody pop art and fatal skydiving as the band moves in on our nasty parents. After all, making enough money through any means to buy class and erase who you were is an American rite of passage. Though certainly watchable thanks to the bizarre nonsensical; the random, joking style is not as shocking as it thinks it is. Colorful dancing and cool tunes with mean lyrics jar between solemn camera confessionals. The haze becomes boring and overlong thanks to the short lived highs and meaninglessness of it all. Such disturbia would have been better had the torment been played straight, but I don't really get a lot of the acid trip here – unless Angel died at the start and this was all just a final fever dream.

The Fourth Victim – Quaint English manors and swanky interiors lead to poolside perils, shady housekeepers, and handy death certificates in this international 1971 mystery. The body discovered is freshly clothed before phoning the authorities, and Scotland Yard is curious about pricey insurance policies, autopsies, and previously deceased wives with faulty brakes and suspect falls. Our nonchalant husband is unbothered by court inquiries thanks to the loyal housekeeper feigning tawdry melodramatics on the witness stand, and even the inspector admires him for getting rich off getting rid of three wives and now he can't be tried again. Carroll Baker (The Big Country), however, has been swimming in his pool. She claims to not read the papers nor care about his infamy, portraits of the deceased, or mementos in the attic. Her white bathing suit and neighborly carefree disrupts his strange, unfeeling calm, but her gothic home next door is dilapidated, spooky, and imposing to match the twists, eerie lookalikes, and ambiguous mysteries. More time is spent on the trial then their whirlwind wedding, but the bliss wears off fast thanks to his heavy handed accusations and her snooping. Now she wonders what he really did do to his last wife, yet their waxing on death and the courage to kill amid casual shopping trips and falling in love confessions show that our couple is actually a lot alike. Despite the emotional entanglements, fatal history, and institution connections; the characterizations are uneven with important players and pesky humor dropped. The overlong, stilted, askew male focus is dominated by unnecessary coming and going scenes with dated, over the top musical interludes. Thankfully, car chases and atmospheric flashbacks begat the unexpected in the final act as the maybe maybe not escalates with taut character interplay.

Sudden Fear – Frenetic notes contrast the sweeping melodic crescendos and Broadway billboards as successful playwright Joan Crawford (Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?) marries struggling young actor Jack Palance (Dan Curtis' Dracula) in the 1952 noir thriller. Of course we know Palance is up to no good, and our all business Myra exercises the casting approval for her play. She doesn't think he has the power to make the women in the audience squirm, but they meet again on the train to San Francisco – playing poker, wining, dining, and lighting each other's cigarettes. Cross coverage angles, up close shots, and sitting side by side visuals parallel the coming together traveling as holding hands leads to dancing, romantic strolls through the Redwoods, and Golden Gate vistas. Bling, furs, frocks, chandeliers, and classic cars accent the wealthy home complete with a custom dictating machine, hidden microphones, and master switches to record all her play compositions. The declarations of love on the staircase, hilltop honeymoon, and white robes create a play within a play romance while mirrors reflect the change in control. Our concerned Lester doesn't want Myra racing down the perilous steps to the dock, however marshmallow Gloria Grahame (In A Lonely Place) is not what she seems thanks to secret meetings, blackmail, and long cons. Again visuals layer the silk pajamas and key to her apartment innuendo, but head over heels Myra redoes her will with Lester as beneficiary. The dictation playback forces us to pay attention as the Oscar nominated Crawford hears the pillow talk and duplicitous plotting – a crushing performance with tragic tears and crippling shock as the stuck needle repeats the threats. Everything has gone up a notch yet the betrayal remains personal with shattering breaks, looking over her shoulder hysteria, and double locking the doors. The echoes haunt Myra into the bedroom as she postulates what car accident or smothering might befall her. Now she has to be the actress, claiming a headache or too much champagne and refusing Lester's offered sleeping pill. Lying awake with the black and white shadows and ticking clocks escalates to forged signatures, break ins, and poison. Sophisticated tension rises with every cocktail, change of plans, and slight of hand amid scandalous stockings, falls down the stairs, and in camera attention to detail. The scheduled actions happen down to the minute with gunshots and kill or be killed overlays that don't underestimate the viewer. Intense zooms focus on the tormented faces while pearl watches keep time and white gloves hide all the secrets. Silence and phone ring rings are used to maximum advantage with beads of sweat, perilous close calls, and the fright of seeing one in the mirror holding a gun. Our desperate dame is out of her element in a no win situation. Bad people are supposed to get what they deserve and Myra must remain good despite chases, spotlights, lookalike ladies, and rear view mirrors culminating in noir perfection.

An Elizabeth Taylor Bonus

Doctor Faustus – Producer Richard Burton (The Robe) co-directs this 1968 play presentation based on the medieval Marlowe's pact with Lucifer, however the stifling script, flowery soliloquies, and dry over acting hamper the excellent bones, candles, cobwebs, and sixteenth century mood. Learned science is so close to superstition and alchemy, and our dissatisfied scholar resorts to Latin rituals, ominous tomes, maggots, and necromancy. Red cloaks, orange firelight, purple sorcery, blue catacombs, green stones, and black wings invoke the hellish historical meets silent Expressionism. Zooms, in and out of focus mirages, and tense camerawork highlight moving statues and magical skulls speaking back to Faustus as he boasts of his bargains with the devil, undeterred in signing in blood thanks to his youthful transformation. Unfortunately, Burton does his best Orson Welles self-indulgence here, paralleling the tale by biting off more than he can chew when not imaging the supple Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra) as Helen of Troy for his perfect, silent woman. The thee thou bloated text and Burton talking to himself voiceovers are unnecessarily scholarly compared to the cinematic, medieval visuals – making the piece seem much longer and more complicated than it is. There is no sounding board character and the language should have been trimmed, for it's not the Oxford University's Acting Company's provocative questions but Burton's over the top windblown me me me that's tepid and detached. Actor turned professor Andreas Teuber as Mephistopheles is far more haunting as the tormented fallen pained at losing eternal bliss, for hell is limitless with no boundaries to its sins. Slow motion, back flipping nymphs and imagined battlefield glory are a little long, however it's fitting that Faustus doesn't realize he is a mere, foolish, mortal man. The hedonistic kaleidoscope parade of lechery provides surreal haze without being trashy, and Burton's best poetry and passion come in the embraces with Taylor. He debates the emperor over his conjuring, mocks the court, and scoffs at the pope as humor and sing songs turn into freaky hoods, screams, and damnation. Who is Faustus to argue with evil? No matter how many times he stops to ogle Taylor's dripping allure, Faustus ends up looking upon himself in the grave, ultimately getting the celestial comeuppance he deserves. The redemption versus selling one's soul parables make for fine horror, deception, and choices – not to mention Elizabeth Taylor in sensual gold lipstick and glowing silver body paint.

Sixties Scares, Anyone?

Sophisticated, Saucy, and Sinister Sixties Scares!

By Kristin Battestella

Say that one three times fast, then sit back and enjoy this quick variety of twisted films from that turbulent decade!

 The Devil’s Hand – Commissioner Gordon strikes again! Neil Hamilton’s pushing freaky voodoo dolls, mental projection, and sexy dames in this 1962 cult-astic romp.  The photography is poor and jumpy, and the introductory narration is weird. The dialogue is both realistic and yet very dated and sexist.  The costumes are ugly, and this evil Gamba cult abounds with hokey rituals. Though I’ve seen worse iffy, Tibetan stereotypes, uncouth Asian music and drums, and more racist dancing hinder a few scenes.  The mid century symbolism and most of the action here will be too tame and predictable for audiences today.  All that potentially going against it and yet the creepy dolls, intriguing mystery, and weird dreams work. Cute things like the slide across bucket seats and decent acting go a long way, too. It seems a lot of scary movies both old and new always have these kinky, relatable, but engaged men getting tempted by evil women. They like it, and so do we. Combined with a few shocks and plenty of tease-ability, this one is a fun, entertaining hour.

Games – Katherine Ross (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid), Simone Signoret (Room at the Top), and James Caan (The Godfather) star in this 1967 mindbender from Curtis Harrington (What’s the Matter with Helen?), and the fun costumes, gadgets, and trickery add to Ross and Caan’s young and sexy. They’re very good at being bent with weird antiques, colorful décor, and an increasingly twisted mix of freaky foreplay. Classy as always, Signoret is mysterious, multifaceted, pushy, flaky, yet more endearing than our initially unlikable snotty rich party couple is. The suspense sequences, intense crimes, and psychic twists may seem weird. However, as the tables turn, the audience is hooked and drawn into the demented pace, surprising events, and jump moments.  Wise viewers may find the plot predictable, but this is a nice little thriller for stylish horror lovers and fans of the cast.

Spirits of the Dead – I’m not really a Jane Fonda fan, but she looks superb in this colorful 1968 Italian anthology with designs from Edgar Allan Poe. Perfect locales, music, horses, castles, and foggy coasts set an ethereal, dreamy mood for the first tale here. The period costumes and sixties fusion might be a bit too Barbarella, and some will be put off by the spoken French and reading subtitles. Yet Fonda fans will enjoy the suggested kinky and ménage taunts- even if it’s her brother Peter (Easy Rider) sparking the obsessions. ‘Metzengerstein’ is more sauce than scares, but it might have made a nice fantasy movie by itself.  By contrast, ‘William Wilson’ adds Italian occupation and religious motifs for the second installment.  Iffy kid acting, look a likes, and flashbacks can be confusing to start and some of the butchery won’t be for everyone. However great fashions, sweet cadavers, autopsy educations, and historical brutalities are scary good- not to mention a dark haired, poker playing Brigitte Bardot (And God Created Woman) to keep the questions on one’s conscious and duality from getting too dry. Terrence Stamp (Billy Budd) is a wonderful drunkard in the almost too trippy ‘Toby Dammit’ finale, but cool Roman amusement, bizarre locations, and weird play within a play production keep the plot from being too nonsensical. Though the final ten minutes get tough, the well-edited and intense driving scenes make for a fitting overall conclusion.  Not all will enjoy the near psychedelic period and foreign sensibilities, but this is some twisted fun for fans of the players and all involved.

 

Tormented – There’s some soap opera melodrama in the acting, romance, and blackmail of this black and white 1960 ghost tale, and there are over the top music cues to match. Some of it is predictably fun, even ridiculous, and the bullet bras enter the room before the ladies! It’s tough to take your ghost’s threats seriously when the entity is so…buxom.  The narration is also a bit much, and nothing is really that scary- particularly the annoying kid (Susan Gordon, daughter of the director Bert I. Gordon, Empire of the Ants). All that aside, this one isn’t that bad. The spooky lighthouse and nice seascapes might be hampered by the black and white, but the gray palette helps the freaky early effects and eerie ghostly hi jinks. Richard Carlson’s (Creature from the Black Lagoon) dilemma, scandal, and titular emotions are an intriguing consequence contrasting the pleasant mid century costumes and feelings. There’s a taint to his would be bliss thanks to the unscrupulous spirits, and the mayhem creates some tense moments and room for a twist or two.

Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? – We can’t imagine anyone but Bette Davis and Joan Crawford in a sibling rivalry this extreme! The two Oscar winners (Jezebel and Mildred Pierce, respectively) finally clash onscreen in this 1962 adaptation from director Robert Aldrich (Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte). The introductory rise thru the show business eras, fun vaudeville tunes, vintage film reels, swift editing, period clothing, cool cars, and plenty of suspense all cap off the warped drama and black and white demented nostalgia.  De Vol’s (Pillow Talk) over the top yet on form and fitting music adds to the fun weirdness of seeing the slovenly done up Davis. Perhaps we tend to think of her as so nice and grandmotherly today- unlike Crawford. Thanks to the likes of Mommie Dearest, it’s a little ironic to see her as Ms. Sympathy. And yet…both ladies put our expectations on end, and it’s a tough call on whose is the better performance. Although the shock moments are probably well known now, the audience wonders how far off the deep end the wonderfully cruel and simplistic scares will go. There’s great, bemusing trepidation in the little things we take for granted in the 21^st century- getting a letter to a neighbor, not knowing what’s for dinner, leaving the phone off the hook.  Minds, mirrors, twisted selves- the unraveling of this relationship train wreck is quite horrific- or at the very least criminal!  Where is the desperation greatest? Who’s more deserving of their internal hostage via the wheelchair or the childlike mind? This staple is perfect for classic film fans, fans of the cast, and anyone looking for a sophisticated feminine horror spin. 

 

 (It's not what you think, I assure you!)

And Now for a Bad One!

The Amazing Transparent Man – This 1960 short, low budget, SF horror from the young American International Pictures starts ominously enough, with a creepy long drive and good music. Unfortunately, not much else genre fair actually happens. With the military chase and crime as is there just isn’t anything that scary or even a whole lot of sci-fi. Although there are good mad scientist machinery and sounds effects, there’s also lots of talking about taking over the world thru invisibility. Thus, all the demented science comes off a little too dry. Despite being only an hour, it’s easy to zone out or even fall asleep- unless you’re poking fun or having a drinking game here.  This one is a definite no no unless you take it for the bemusement alone.

(But this is what I call Horror!)

Early Horror and Silent Hits

Early Horror Delights!

By Kristin Battestella

While some, even the most adamant classic or horror fans, may baulk at the idea of silent films and Hollywood’s earliest horror efforts, there is most definitely a good amount of decent-and in some cases stellar- frights to be found in film’s infancy.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – This 1920 John Barrymore silent classic still looks good, with fine style and design and eerie organ music to match. There’s a lovely level of atmosphere for a spooky event- project this baby on some creepy cloth and you’re set! Granted, it’s a little slow to start and long for a silent film at 80 minutes. The presentation itself is almost Victorian in establishing the parlor goodness before its hint of pre-code sauce- the dance and proposition of Nita Naldi (The Ten Commandments). The posturing and makeup for Hyde may seem hokey, there isn’t that much of a visual difference compared to today’s high tech effects transformations. Nonetheless, Barrymore (Don Juan) sells the depravity without over exaggerating as the era often dictates, and the result is quite timeless.  There aren’t many title cards, either.  As the film progresses, the good and evil torment steadily increases thanks to the freaky pictures and creepy performance. A must see. 

 

The Monster Walks – There’s poor sound, dry dialogue, and it’s almost tough to tell what’s going on in this 1932 caper. The ladies are stereotypical and we have an utterly inappropriate portrayal of subservient black chauffeur: “I’d just love to take my shoes off and skip in the rain! Yes’um!” Is he supposed to be some sort of comic relief, the first example of a wise cracking brother?! Faults of the time aside, a creepy opening scene, eerie décor, spooky lighting, and a “must stay the night” storm make for a dangerous setting as the will is read and the scares come in the night. Of course, an evil ape must be involved, but fortunately, there’s some good suspense. The story gets better as it goes on, with plotting over the inheritance, mysterious passages, erroneous deaths, and family secrets to up the ante for this entertaining little hour.  

 

A Shriek in the Night – This 1933 crime stopper is loaded with hokey effects, wooden investigators, copper colloquialisms, annoying old ladies, and yet another racist, subservient portrayal, “It’s too much, yes sir!” Fortunately, the interesting and inventive penthouse crimes are accented with awesome vintage cars, glorious fashions, and period style.  Famous song and dance star Ginger Rogers (Kitty Foyle) looks sweet as a sassy get the scoop reporter, and her fans will enjoy this serious, pre-Astaire turn.  For only being an hour long, the plot meanders somewhat with seemingly useless, sexist scenes. However, today’s audience can see the attempted establishment of the suspense procedural and murder mystery. It’s not major scary, despite a few good screams and light and darkness tricks, but fans of the mystery genre and its evolution onscreen can have a good time with this predictable, but fun study.  

The Unknown – Lon Chaney (The Phantom of the Opera) and Joan Crawford (Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?) star in this short but memorable 1927 silent from writer and director Tod Browning.  Similar to Browning’s Freaks in many ways, the grotesque yet tender and sympathetic love triangle here is fast paced and well edited with intense twists and a great, revitalized score.  Sure, it may be a Leap of Faith in taking Chaney as armless and the carnival set-ups are hokey- but trust me.  There’s no over the top acting, only perfect expressions and emotions all around. Crawford looks dynamite, too, with great eyes and readable lips that don’t need inter titles. It’s not all Chaney’s footwork and bravo to his double Paul Desmuke; their combination is strangely delightful to watch. It’s probably a tough concept for some contemporary, effects-obsessed audiences to comprehend, but hearing or reading words aren’t required for the viewer to receive the trauma here.  Yes, some of the essential plot points are fairly obvious today. However, the performances keep it splendid nonetheless. This hour is by necessity of the silent style yet also very modern in its own way. It’s definitely a must see for classic fans, lovers of the cast, and film makers or would be actors- who should definitely take a lesson on the big reveal here!

Vampyr – It’s tough to partially pay attention to this restored 1932 international horror tale, as it has both subtitles for the spoken German and English title cards between scenes. It’s a lot to read onscreen, and won’t be easy for everyone to watch. However, I like the fun opening spider web designs, lovely yet creepy music, and excellent lighting and shadows. I can’t imagine director Carl Theodor Dreyer (The Passion of Joan of Arc) receiving bad reviews for its debut. The candles and décor complete the mood and atmosphere and set the scares perfectly. There’s a foreboding feeling, and one can get chills just by watching a few minutes. Again, this is a great one to play in the background for a theme night or viewing party, as one ends up stopping, captivated into taking notice of this peculiar little tale.  There’s a beautiful and careful attention to detail, making each shot look like a pretty picture in addition to advancing the story. There aren’t any in your face jump out and scare you moments, just a lot of artistic brooding and a total sense of macabre. Of course, the women are a bit much, with typical old ladies of the time, and it is a slow, heavy 70 minutes devoid of today’s simply mindless entertainment.  There’s even some religious study with innocent, virginal victims, nuns, and white/purity symbolism battling against a demented, unholy photography of skeletons, poisons, and surreal death dreamscapes. Thankfully, it really is stylized- I want to say exquisite- work, and students of horror and early film should at least take a look. Ironically, one may very well be delighted here.  

More 1970s Horror

70s Horror Classics. Again.

By Kristin Battestella

More and more, I am finding myself watching and enjoying more horror and mayhem produced in that shiny, glittery, and be-bell bottomed decade of the 1970s. Here’s a small sampling of our latest late night seventies viewings, because it was ten years with a lot of onscreen scares, shocks, scandals, and sophistication.

Blood on Satan’s Claw –We Americans would call the shaggy hair, peasant costumes, and poor candlelit interiors of this 1970 British scare fest “Colonial.” Great screams, sound effects, and music accent the off-camera frights and country crazies. There are plenty of spooky locales, too; lonely wooden houses and ruined cathedrals out on foggy, overrun and empty greens. Dark, intimate, and up-close photography smartly keeps the villagers’ fear, not the titular hand, as the focus- and it is scary.  Yes, the dialogue scenes in between the scares might be slow, confusing, or tough to understand for some, and having had a horror proper cast would have been nice, too.  Fortunately, the steady reveal, religion versus demons tug and pull, and nasty sexual overtones up the horror ante.  The rapaciousness is not for the faint audience, but the evil temptations, nudity, and demented 17^th century teens aren’t there for the titillation as in today films. Obviously, witchcraft is painted as the devil worship of the day, and this will be an offensive movie for some. However, fans of the genre will enjoy the instrumental, heavy, intense, and hairy finale- literally!

Dracula vs Frankenstein –  Good blood, scary zooms, carnival crazy, scientist mayhem, and cool laboratory works with flashing gizmos and vintage radical machines accent this 1971 swansong for both Lon Chaney Jr. (The Wolf Man) and J. Carrol Naish (Sahara).  It’s pleasing to see Chaney’s silent, big, and scary henchman. He’s used and sympathetic in contrast to the no less intriguing but vengeful and wheelchair bound Nash as Frankenstein. Forrest J Ackerman (The Howling) has a fun appearance, and the crazy credits are a good time, too.  There’s enough homage and sentiment here to keep the bright seventies setting entertaining, although the bizarre UFO-esque sound effects music is too dated. The Vegas singing montages- perhaps to somehow capitalize on the Hello Dolly trend- are also weird, and the hectic, glossed over attention on hipness doesn’t serve this tale well. Regina Carol (Black Heat) is also kind of bad, but she’s not given much guidance from director/her man Al Adamson (Blood of Dracula’s Castle). I’m also not sure about Zandor Vorkov (Brain of Blood) debuting this strange look to Dracula; a young guy made to look, well, kind of like Vincent Price as Dr. Phibes!  The echoing voice effect too tries too hard, and the zooms punctuating the end of his sentence….err no. The disjointed mix of dumb happy summer of love interferes with the fine old school demented monster plots, and the finale melts down to drinking game viewing. Thankfully, it’s all fun, but Sweet Jesus, is the boyfriend upset because he spent $1 on gas? One Dollar.  Pfft!

House of Shadows – There’s not much information on this 1976 Spanish murder mystery starring Yvonne De Carlo (The Munsters) and John Gavin (Psycho). I mean, no Wikipedia page, gasp, the horror!  The stormy scenery, eerie music and sound effects, spooky décor, colorful period costumes, decrepit haunted house vibes, and past luxuries gone awry are all gothic and moody enough- and most importantly, they help disguise the somewhat bemusing English dubbing.  The dialogue seems more like the tone of an audio book than you know, acting.  De Carlo is lovely as always, but it’s weird that she is also dubbed. Something’s lost when we don’t hear her sultry voice, and this contributes to some of the awkward or confusing and slower scenes. Some of the values here are also just too dark to see. Thankfully, a few unexpected scares and deadly twists accentuate the initial mystery, subsequent murders, amateur investigation, and spectacle séances. Yes, this is hampered by some poor post- production. Is it hokey like a telenovela thanks to the dubbed dialogue? For sure. Is it classic? Maybe not.  Nonetheless, there’s a fine little story here for an audience to enjoy solving, and it’s worth a look.  

Murder on the Orient Express – Yes, yes. This 1974 Agatha Christie adaptation starring Albert Finney, Lauren Bacall, Ingrid Bergman, Anthony Perkins, Jacqueline Basset, Sean Connery, Michael York, Vanessa Redgrave, Richard Widmark, John Gielgud, Everyone, and Your Grandmother isn’t really a horror film as we know it. Nonetheless it is dang suspenseful and entertaining with great thirties Art Deco design, tunes, and cars. There’s European and Asian flair, mixed languages, and lots of visual joys and dangers of trains that perhaps some today can’t appreciate. Likewise, director Sidney Lumet’s (Dog Day Afternoon) hectic in a good way pace won’t be for everyone. Some today may find conversational beats too talkative instead of action, but the unwrapping of the crime is pleasing and intelligent, a step above all those other all-star seventies disaster pictures. The suspenseful flashbacks and sudden edits reveal the case with lovely procedures, clues, suspense, and stunning performances.  The whole family can spend an evening guessing with this one or a sophisticated Halloween party might enjoy the debate. Perhaps it’s all old hat to those familiar with Christie or the story, but this one’s delightful for new viewers looking for something beyond Clue.

Night Gallery – Growing up, I really enjoyed watching this 1970-73 Rod Serling follow up to The Twilight Zone. Unfortunately, there is a lot of distaste and confusion surrounding these unloved episodes- from being butchered initially, and then chopped further in syndication, and recently its difficult road to DVD.  All that aside; some of these episodes are damn decent creepy, with Serling’s sense of morbid, demented inspirations from the likes of H.P. Lovecraft, and solid guest players such as Vincent Price, Joan Crawford, Adam West, Leslie Nielson, and more.  “The Housekeeper,” “The House,” “The Doll,” “Lone Survivor,” “The Boy Who Predicted Earthquakes,”  “A Death in the Family,” “Silent Snow, Secret Snow,” and “The Dark Boy” are but a few examples of the quality here.  Due to the behind the scenes troubles, is Night Gallery a step down from The Twilight Zone? Yes.  Is it nonetheless worth a place in your scary viewing marathon? Absolutely.

Classic Leading Ladies

Classic Leading Ladies

By Kristin Battestella

I love classic leading men- as you can see by my mentioning of Gregory Peck, Montgomery Clift, and Clark Gable below. Unfortunatey, I don’t often obsess over an old picture based upon its leading lady. These classics, however, are a quick glimpse at some of the best dames the silver screen has to offer. If you’re looking for a few goddess of old, it’s tough to beat the ladies here.

Queen Christina (1933) – Some of this Greta Garbo costume drama is tough to swallow in pacing and melodrama, but the infamous Swedish actress shows her stuff as the titular 17^th century monarch torn between religion, war, love, and the throne. Though not entirely historically accurate, the fashions look great-and the politics here shed light on a lesser-known time and place. Who else but Garbo could take on medieval Sweden and single handedly steal the show?

Gaslight (1944) – Ingrid Bergman’s Oscar winning performance leads an all-star cast in this psychological turn of the century murder mystery. Is she crazy? Will Joseph Cotton solve the crime before it’s too late? Some of Gaslight is a bit obvious to today’s wiser audiences, but Bergman’s (another Swedish dynamo) delightfully mental performance makes the getting there so sweet.

Double Indemnity (1944) – Is Oscar nominee Barbara Stanwyck trying to kill her husband for the insurance money? This chilling film noir serves up the quintessentials of the genre with mood, atmosphere, and a chilling performance by Stanwyck-who actually isn’t one of my favorites. Once you see Double Indemnity, however, you almost don’t need to see another Stanwyck picture. Well, of course, there’s The Lady Eve, Meet John Doe, and Christmas in Connecticut, but Stanwyck is the definitive conniving temptress here.

The Heiress – Oscar winner Olivia de Havilland has never been as delightful. Is Montgomery Clift pursuing the mousy, bland, uninteresting Catherine Sloper merely for her wealth? How could he adore the made to look ugly and meek de Havilland? Should Catherine run away with him or listen to her stern Father Dr. Sloper (Ralph Richardson)? The Heiress is a pathetic, yet somehow lovely 1840s styled gem with fine performances and a bittersweet air.

A Place in the Sun – “Tell Mama. Tell Mama all.” Elizabeth Taylor’s beautiful and tragic performance seeps into our collective consciousness without even having to try. There are so many lines, iconic scenes, and wonderful performances in this George Stevens’ 1951 classic also starring my favorite underrated leading man Montgomery Clift. Based on the popular and scandalous novel An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser, this fifties time capsule still resonates today.

Roman Holiday – Reporter Gregory Peck woos the fish out of water Princess Audrey Hepburn in this romantic time capsule of fifties filmmaking and Roman splendor. The black and white photography sometimes hinders the Edith Head costumes and royal grandeur, but it’s still enchanting decoration nonetheless. Though coming from an aristocratic background herself, Audrey’s Oscar winning debut is charming, delightful, and still relatable to audiences high and low almost sixty years on.

Johnny Guitar – This female laden and colorful guilty pleasure western stars Joan Crawford as a saloon owner caught between the law and her love-the titular Johnny Guitar. This film takes itself way too seriously and serves up one over the top scene after another-but it’s also great fun seeing the harsh Crawford give it back to the boys with some Arizona romance and melodrama. Maybe it’s not her best role; but in many ways, Johnny Guitar stands out in Joan’s repertoire for its fashion, departures, and innuendo.

The Misfits – This 1961 statement making western from Arthur Miller and John Huston has the dubious distinction of being the final picture of two Old Hollywood icons: Clark Gable and Marilyn Monroe. Round out the lead trio with my man Montgomery Clift (who himself only made three more pictures), behind the scenes drama, onset conflict, and then add the sale and slaughter of the American mustang onscreen and you have a bittersweet cult classic. Despite her increasing personal difficulties, Monroe proves she’s more than a pretty song and dance filly here with melancholy in her wispy pout and presence against the boys.

Not all of these classics are currently available on DVD or blu-ray, and sacrilegiously Queen Christina, Gaslight, and The Misfits are not on the National Film Registry! Nevertheless, keep your eyes peeled for these gems and more from these and other Hollywood leading ladies of old. You can’t go wrong with a good classic or a fine doll can you?