Halloween Fest 2020 and Night Gallery on Monday Morning Diary (September 14)

by Sam Juliano

     As we are halfway through September we are inching closer to Halloween and Election Day as if the past few months haven’t been constantly reminding us of the latter.  This past week Jim Clark published another banner essay in his long-running Ingmar Bergman series on The Touch and J.D. Lafrance a stupendous review of Christopher Nolan’s new film Tenet.  We are still and will be for quite some time experiencing the fear and uncertainty of COVID-19 which stateside still remains the major story every minute of the day.  Wishing all our friends and readers continued safety.  As part of Jamie Uhler’s HalloweenFest 2020 I offer up his capsules from a few weeks ago in his introduction, which were not posted before the actual longer reviews.  I have followed his extraordinary report with my latest Night Gallery reviews in my winding-down FB countdown:

Jamie:   But in regards to film watching, some of my favorite genres have been attacked to keep it loose and fun, many of which I don’t regularly do as I’ve picked the bones of their canons clean long ago. Obviously, it’s been really fun getting back to these joys. For Horror, I’ve done 10 already, and I’m considering many of these watches then to be for this season, so I’ll note them here with a really brief description should any of you want to watch them.

The Carpenter (D. Wellington… 1988) slasher

When the scare went around social media that Wing Hauser had maybe passed I quickly did one of his rare Horror films, a slasher where a carpenter who’d painstaking built his dream house at the expense of his day-to-day life then haunts those that life their later and don’t treat it with the care he did. Some decent kills, but otherwise droll compared to his usual highway act (he’s one of my favorite B-movie actors without question). Watched via Amazon streaming.

The Mutilator (aka Fall Break) (B. Cooper… 1984) slasher

This, however, was pretty fun. Like many period slashers it lags for stretches, but the kills make up for it, and several literal laugh out loud moments when the alcoholic dad killer returns to haunt his college age son and friends who have taken to their beach house for fall break. A theme song title montage in the first reel is worth it alone. Watched via Amazon streaming.

The Relic (P. Hyams… 1997)

I realized early I’d never seen this Alien-in-the-Chicago-Field-Museum romp I don’t think, which surprised me. It’s highly entertaining—it’s only missing a few strong, eccentric B-movie character actor performances, but once the beast gets going it’s a laugh riot. The best kill for me is when it leaps and snatches a SWAT guy from a rope as the team is attempting to enter the museum from the ceiling. Clip-tape worthy! Watched via Amazon streaming. 

Hollow Man (P. Verhoeven… 2000)

Rewatched this one—I’ve seen it at least 4 times at this point—to confirm that this sleazy take on the Invisible Man is indeed better than the much lauded remake from this Spring. This watch the greatest revelation was admiring 20 year old effects that have really held up remarkably well (and are wonderfully concepted)! Watched via an old DVD digital rip I’ve had for ages, but I know it’s on Amazon streaming.

The Invisible Man (L. Whannell… 2020) remake

I was excited to watch this as I really like virtually everything I’ve seen Elizabeth Moss in, and the original run of Invisible Man films for Universal in the ’30’s and ’40’s count several masterful films (the original with Claude Rains is a masterpiece). I can’t see how anyone who is aware of that/those films could watch this and find it good. I saw so many critical takes lauding it, and while I don’t have the best opinion of Film Criticism circa 2020, it’s really wild. This sucked, and had such a sneering condescension for its ‘cleverness’. Imagine thinking you’re a smart take on the subject when the history of becoming invisible in cinema goes thusly: Original film the protagonist wants to take over the world, then Kevin Bacon in the Verhoeven wants to be a rich pervert, while here, the guy just wants to terrorize a single, solitary woman. A low stakes barf.

Child’s Play (L. Klevberg… 2019) remake

This, however, had all the appearances of a train wreck remake, but was small enough to be a pretty enjoyable piece of garbage with a few really fun gore kills. It’s close enough to the original while still adding a wholly new set of ideas for our contemporary time. While I applaud the idea of casting Mark Hamill for the voice of Chucky—he’s a great voice actor—no one can touch Brad Dourif. It’s a glaring hole at the center. Oh well, I’d still recommend. Watched on Amazon streaming.

The Car (E. Silverstein… 1977)

This was a revisit as I sort of like this automobile-centered Jaws rip-off. If should be a lot trashier—but, hell, that’s true of Jaws too—but the souped up black car is a cool custom build and the Utah Monument Valley photograph is really pretty. Watched via a crisp print on Netflix streaming.

Mausoleum (M. Dugan… 1983)

This was recently given a blu-ray release via trash merchants Vinegar Syndrome in a limited edition collection package, which no lol, this doesn’t deserve that, in fact, given the trashy nature of this, it probably deserves to stay in the dusty corners of the VHS world. It’s a pretty easy plot, stretched to feature length with a few scenes of soft-core pornography and scripting that argues against itself in many scenes. Whatever, I saw a few people praising it on letterboxd, which is as good an argument to never trust Horror aficionados where cinema is concerned.

Petey Wheatstraw (C. Roquemore… 1977) blaxploitation

I randomly watched this via VUDU streaming (a free app that just has ads, but it’s totally worth it!), a blaxploitation mashup featuring the talents of Rudy Ray Moore, the rhyming in dialogue movie star who’s often called Godfather of Hip Hop. This is no Dolemite, but it’s still a lot of fun, greatly assisted by trying an everything and the kitchen sink approach from Kung-Fu, (stand-up) Comedy, Revenge flick to light Horror, and the pacing is a sprint for the most part. Thus, what doesn’t work is quickly past by, and I chuckled a bunch at the truly ridiculous stuff on display given an array of cinematic techniques. More people should know who Rudy Ray Moore was. This is only tangentially a Horror film, but I’m glad I know it now.

The Rift (J. P. Simón… 1990)

Simón is the Spanish sleazeball that made two trash masterpieces (the gut-busting ecological disaster epic Slugs and the maniacally dubbed slasher-perv out Pieces) so, since I’d never gotten through this one in its entirety did it the other night. It’s his attempt at Cameron’s underrated Abyss, but probably cost about as much as cutting the trailer for the Abyss did so it’s mostly a humorous chuckle at threadbare effects. The actual film then has little redeeming qualities and surprisingly uncreative kills. After the early mentioned films he did this is a real surprising dud from Simón.

Top 27 Rod Serling’s ‘Night Gallery’ segments (presented in reverse numerical order)

Segment Number 10 “I’ll Never Leave You – Ever ” (Season 2) 26:32

Hair-raising terror is chillingly showcased in the Bavaesque period segment “I’ll Never Leave You – Ever”, which would have been a perfect fit for the Italian master’s 1963 horror ominous “Black Sabbath”, whose third chapter “The Wurdelak” it is tonally akin to. The sets are the same ones used for another Night Gallery masterwork, “The Sins of the Fathers” and like that earlier segment there is a heightening unease and a pervading evil that in this particular show visits its perpetrator with even worse diabolical bravado. No other Night Gallery episode displays such unremittingly gloom from first frame to laugh, much as Boris Karloff’s Thriller’s “The Incredible Doktor Markeson” has in the early 60’s series’ second season. The doll burning sequence is also one of Night Gallery’s most petrifying.

On a stormy night in Ireland, circa the late 1800’s, horses and sheep stir outside a barn where inside in a hayloft, two lovers are having a tryst. Moragh and Ianto are enjoying an adulterous fling. Moragh has long been married to a deathly ill man Owen.
They both wish the Owen will expire as soon as possible so there will no longer be complications in their relationship. Moragh however is losing her patience, and she finds her husband’s clammy touch repugnant, his deteriorating body a repelling eyesore. Smelling of infection and death she can no longer withstand his advances and she seeks out an old crone, a mistress of the black arts whose specialty is carved wooden dolls. Evoking the 1942 Val Lewton classic “I Walked with a Zombie” and its voodoo theme the narrative proceeds with Moragh building a blaze in the fireplace. She tosses the doll into the mini inferno and is immediately met with agonizing shrieks from the farmhouse, where her husband death rattles have commenced. But it soon becomes apparent that the doll was carved from unseasoned wood and can’t completely burn.

Moragh races off across the moor and manages to toss the doll into a black pit. She returns to find the hideous pile of ashes that was once Owen and stumbles into the kitchen, fainting. Ianto is there when she awakens intending to comfort her but beholding Owen’s horrifying remains he turns away, shocked at what his lover has done. She tries to explain the terrible events that preceded her husband’s demise but he gives her some unconscionable news which is basically that the doll had not burned away and is still living down in the wilderness. Ianto grabs a lantern and gallops off to the quarry to find the doll, traversing through the misty moors. Moragh chases after him and after a way hears a voice calling for her . She sees a faint light and walks toward it, only to have her feet give way, causing her to sink into the depths and to Owen’s scarred arms wait to embrace her.

In addition to the stellar work of the aforementioned art director Joseph Alves, the segment exhibits exceptional craftsmanship in every department. Royal Dano ferociously plays the most abhorrent human character in any Night Gallery episode, though one because of the heinous familial circumstances gaining a measure of audience sympathy. Lois Nettleton is in poll position among the segment’s thespians in her wicked incarnation of a woman so callous and cruel that her machinations beggar description. The actress in an interview thought it her favorite television role, crediting director Daniel Hellar for his liberal reign of the actors who were largely left to their own devises. John Saxton as Ianto too is exemplary running the emotional gamut from willing accomplice to adulterous scheming to the realization his partner orchestrated unspeakable depravity. Daniel Haller superbly negotiated Jack Laird’s brilliant teleplay based on the macabre short story by Rene Morris. The brooding atmospheric photography by Gerald Perry Finnerman and menacing score by Lalo Schifrin and others bring this terrifying tale acute sensory fearfulness. “I’ll Never Leave You – Ever” is one of Night Gallery’s supreme and ostentatious masterpieces.

Top 27 Rod Serling’s ‘Night Gallery’ segments (presented in reverse numerical order)

Segment Number 11 “The Escape Route” (Season 1-pilot)

The final segment of the Night Gallery pilot is perhaps the most integral to the premise of the series, as it’s denouement is intricately linked to a painting in a museum where the main protagonist makes a final wish, unaware that fate has intervened to assure his deserved, ghastly punishment. Rod Serling, who penned the segment, has traveled this road before in both “Death’s Head Revisited” and “Judgment Night”, Twilight Zone episodes about Nazi monsters who receive their comeuppance. The theme is a Serling favorite either overly or by way of totalitarian condemnation which was explored in other scripts. “The Escape Route” is set in Buenos Aires in 1963, and mirrors historical accuracy what with many Nazis seeking clandestine refuge in South America after the war, where several were apprehended. Unlike “Eyes” (Number 13 on countdown) the evil is not personal but on an epic scale and as in the previous TZ incarnations “guilt” is investigated. The protagonist has not returned to the scene of the crime in sadistic bravado as Captain Lutze did in “Deaths-Head” but is trying to avoid detection from Israel agents who are working hard to bring his to justice as he battles with his own conscience

Joseph Strobe also known as Gruppenfuhrer Helmut Arndt is a former commander at Auschwitz who comes to realize that the capture of Adolf Eichman diminishes his own long-term chances to escape detection. Soon enough a black sedan trails him on the street and he barely eludes the two man in the car, ending up in an art museum where he encounters an old man immerses in a terrifying painting depicting a concentration camp crucifixion. Strobe of course would be immune to such a nightmarish canvas, but he still notices the elder Bleume who seems hypnotized, but he still manages to engage the uninterested Strobe with conversation which leads to an unspoken revelation about the younger man that he temporarily keeps silent. Strobe manages to slip away and eyes a sedate and pastoral painting of a fisherman and a lake. There is instant chemistry with the man and nature and he begins to imagine himself as the man, almost as if thinking hard enough might allow him to assume the identity of this creation of a brush. He is interrupted by closing time but returns the next morning (think Robert Duvall’s Charley Parkes character in TZ’s “Miniature”, an hour-long episode written by Charles Beaumont) to investigate the painting even further.

It becomes progressively clear that the longer and more intensely he examines the painting, the more he slips away from the reality of his life as a fugitive. There is a connection with nature and with the serenity of such an uncomplicated scenario, one that surely includes sensory envelopment. Again he returns on the following evening and further immersion appears to bring him closer to him successfully willing himself into this idyllic hamlet. But inevitably he is again reminded that reality has not yet been vanquished and closing hour forces him back on the street where he visits a nightclub, gets inebriated and loudly sings the German anthem “Deutschland uber Alles”. After staggering out to an alley adjacent to the club he again encounters Bleum, who tells him he knew his identity from the museum as his reminds his erstwhile tormentor that he was a prisoner at the camp when Strobe was a supervisor. When the old man assures him that he has informed the authorities of his approximate whereabouts he strangles him and flees to bus terminal where is briefly apprehended before breaking loose and returning to the art museum which is pitch black, but he still makes his way to the fisherman painting, which he knows it there but can’t quite see. He begs God to put him into the picture and his wishes are answered. A curator and a guard arrive a while later and one hears a faint cry seemingly coming from the painting, which was changed, because the pastoral one was out on loan and has been replaced by the concentration camp crucifixion where Strobe with remain for all eternity.

Extraordinary performances make “The Escape Route” a chilling an powerful statement against fascism and how few can hope to escape rightful punishment for their crimes against humanity. The great Richard Kiley is perfectly despicable as the monstrous Strobe, a man born without a heart, and the renowned Sam Jaffe gives what could be the best supporting performance by an actor in any Night Gallery segment as the keenly observant Bleum whose detection leads to Strobe’s ultimate demise. Billy Goldenberg’s ethnic-attuned score includes menacing Latin rhythms and instrumentation, a sentimental German song à la Kurt Weill, representing Strobe’s yearning for escape; and a haunting choral Kaddish on the death of Bleum, though the forward progression is ably negotiated in aural terms. Splendid nocturnal and interior museum photography by William Marguiles and Barry Shear’s well-paced direction superbly serve one of NG’s most masterful scripts. “The Escape Route” in Night Gallery as it most unforgettable.

 

Top 27 Rod Serling’s ‘Night Gallery’ segments (presented in reverse numerical order)

 

Segment Number 12 “Class of ’99” (Season 2) 18:47

 

Vincent Price is typically magisterial as a peremptory college professor lording over a graduating class of robot surrogates in a futuristic society set in 1999. The segment, “Class of ’99” originally aired a quarter of a century earlier, but of course severely overestimates society’s technological advances. Rod Serling’s original teleplay is one of his most masterful for Night Gallery. The totalitarianism exhibited was a favorite theme on The Twilight Zone, and most specifically evokes “Number Twelve Looks Just Like You” and “The Obsolete Man” though is is peppered by the ugly thrust of bigotry. Serling envisions a bleak future, a fascist society that as per his setting has malevolently infiltrated the halls of academia. The entire episode plays out in a lecture hall, a setting limitation that does little to mitigate the building intensity of the drama which launches with a powerful monologue by Price’s professor. The dynamic duo of director Jeannot Szwarc and photographer Lionel Lindon bring dramatic and visual tension to Serling’s

 

“Class of 99” opens with Price asking a student named Johnson to name four persons whose work has been related to “propulsion.” The young man readily names three but stumbles on the fourth. The Professor curtly tells him to sit down, but Johnson defends his still impressive three-quarters success. Unimpressed and infuriated at Johnson’s comeback, the uncompromising educator humiliates his startles charge, berating him on his poor scholarship. He calls on another student, Clinton to imagine himself in competition with Barnes who sits a few rows away, Clinton is asked to describe his fellow classmate, taking note of probably age, height and weight and then to identify “salient” features that might differentiate him from others. Clinton answers that he is black, to which the Professor continues this may denote a special problem. Clinton picks up the insinuation and suggests that Barnes may be pushy, aggressive and “inferior.” Happy with Clinton’s prejudicial slander he goads him into slapping Barnes, an effrontery answered in kind by the black student, again with the Professor’s blessing.

 

The Professor continues goading others into framing students of different ethnic stripes as enemies and pits a girl from a poor family against another who was raised by wealthy guardians. Hostility begins to surface, leading to a burst of violence before peace is restored. Then an Asian student named Chang is set up to be shot but the would-be assassin Elkins deliberately shoots at a light fixture with a weapon furnished by the Professor in defiance of the academic’s assertion of incompatibility between the two. Elkins, much like TZ’s Marilyn Cuberle in “Number Twelve Looks Just Like You” contests the norm when he asserts “I’m not sure he IS the enemy!” This mutinous declaration leads to murmuring around the lecture hall, and fearing others will be infected with this independent slant the Professor de-activates the class. The hall becomes silent as the leader calls on Johnson to ask him what will now happens after Elkins’ defiance. Johnson notes that since Elkins failed to kill the enemy he must now be labeled as a “subversive” and an “unreliable.” Like the timid librarian in “The Obsolete Man” he must be exterminated and Johnson does the honors, shooting Elkins in the head. Like the female robot in “the Lonely” the results is a sputtering mass of wires and circuits. The human face is no more. The Professor approves and credits Johnson with redeeming himself admirable. Johnson’s blood-curdling commencement address, where he states that the old virtues are “weaknesses” and that tolerating an inferior is an act of misplaced compassion. “Class of 99” is a kind of Third Reich replicated in robotic terms.

 

Serling’s script contains some of the best dialogue he’s written in his career and with the incomparable Price and a most impressive Brandon de Wilde (Shane, A Member of the Wedding, Pigeons from Hell) as well as Randolph Mantooth, Frank Hotchkiss and Hilly Hicks as the central students, the cast negotiates this chilling narrative effectively. A brilliant idea is consummated with technical bravado, and the classroom set, designed by Joseph Alves contributes to the dominant clinical unease of the segment. “Class of ’99” is one of television’s most frightful cautionary tales and an irrefutable Night Gallery classic. It is a supreme personal favorite.

Top 27 Rod Serling’s ‘Night Gallery’ segments (presented in reverse numerical order)

 

Segment Number 13 “Eyes” (Season 1-pilot)

 

Directed by Steven Spielberg from a celebrated Rod Serling pilot film script, “Eyes” is known by just about everyone, even those who have not watched the Night Gallery proper. Joan Crawford stars as an incarnation of evil, a vicious, arrogant and cretinous woman of extreme wealth who happens to be blind and surrenders her membership card to the human race by scheming an unconscionable plan to pay out a tiny sum of money to a desperate gambler so that she can see for twenty-four hours. The man in return will lose his own eyesight permanently so that Crawford’s character -Claudia Menlo- can experience a short span of vision that will enable her to store away images for mind reference in the time she has left to live. “Eyes” is exceeding well crafted and superbly directed by the iconic Spielberg who orchestrates the one true horror segment in a trio of terrifying tales solely because it showcases the darkest side of humanity one can imagine, and it is by far the most realistic and possible premise if one can set aside the inconceivable medical advancement.

 

Menlo is 54 and like Helen Keller has been blind since birth. Because she is rich she hasn’t taken up Braille and employs people to read to her and serve her every whim. Like the Dad in Serling’s classic Twilight Zone episode “The Masks” Menlo is only interested in things she can buy, thus she has no desire to maintain friendships and seemingly only communicates with her physician, Dr. Frank Heatherton. She informs him that she is prepared to avail herself of a radical new procedure involving the optic nerve being transplanted from a person with sight into her dormant vision socket. The doctor, who is morally repulsed by the idea and wants no association with it tries to dissuade the narcissist by explaining this procedure in only in the experimental stage, and has been only successful twice, but both times with animals, though even in these cases the sight was experienced for eleven hours before the bodies rejected the new parts. The doctor also tells her that a donor for this would also be virtually impossible to find but Menlo smugly retorts that she has found such a person, a down and out bookie named Sidney Resnick who reasons that the paltry nine thousand dollars he will be paid for his eyes is a better option than being rubbed out by the mob. Heatheton tells Menlo he is leaving until she blackmails him with evidence that will destroy his career. Ever the devious schemer she anticipated in advance the doctor would balk at her request so she hired people to dig up dirt to force his hand.

 

Heatherton hates himself for it but he acquiesces and agrees to perform the operation. The evening after it is completed Menlo dismisses her servants and sits among her expansive art collection which she will examine painstakingly before she embarks on a tour around the city. She has her eleven hours of sight all planned out. When the time has come to remove her bandages -the first time such a procedure was negotiated in Rod Serling’s world since TZ’s “Eye of the Beholder” she is shaking over her coming epiphany and first sees her crystal chandelier. But the vision is only fleeting as everything turns black. Menlo curses out the “witch doctor Heatherton” and glides around the apartment overturning everything in her way out of extreme anger. She then calls for assistance but by then she had ordered everyone away and is left to herself. He bursts into tears and passes out only to awaken to witness the sun setting. She moves towards the window, but pressing against a cracked pane she crashes through and plummets ten stories to the pavement below. Fateful comeuppance has rarely been as deserved, especially since her final splashes of light are visual encapsulations of her doom.

 

Some Night Gallery fans consider this the very best of the three pilot segments, and that’s a fair enough position as it is a masterpiece albeit one that is deeply disturbing. It is well known that Crawford was initially irate that the studio assigned a twenty-two year old inexperienced “kid” to direct her, though her relationship with Spielberg improved as she was given substantial input in how the episode was shot. In any event Crawford was spectacular and she delivered what is probably the best lead performance of any female on Night Gallery. Spielberg. Barry Sullivan also turned in a superlative turn as the morally repulsed physician who is too weak to defy Menlo’s threats. Tom Bosley evokes a great deal of sympathy as Resnick a poor soul who will never see again because of his financial woes. Spielberg offers up a disciplined, visual feast and is aided by Richard Batcheller’s acute lighting and Billy Godenberg’s orchestral chords and bells document imminent tragedy. “Eyes” is a searing television segment that has left as lasting an impression on fans of the medium as the images Menlo promises to store in her mind’s eye before she is served up with her just demise.