31 Days, 31 Years of
Horror, starting in '31 -- So for Halloween this year, I watched and reviewed a
movie (or two) per day, with each day of October representing a year, starting
with 1931. Here is the line-up:
Murder by the Clock (1931) - Remember that scene in Wayne's
World 2 where Kim Basinger seduces Garth and then tries to convince
him in a round-about way to kill her husband? That is basically this movie for
74 minutes. Lilyan Tashman plays Laura Endicott, a sexy-but-horribly-amoral
monster who is not above using her body (or the promise of it) to convince
people to kill for her. The movie makes no effort to hide her villainous
credentials, so the question is not "Who dunnit?", but rather
"How will the plan go wrong?"
Apparently this was the first horror movie to
be released in the wake of the monumental success that was Universal's adaptation
of Dracula starring Bela Lugosi. It's nominally a
horror film, especially by today's standards. It's not quite mystery; I suppose
you can call it the great-grandfather (or -mother) of the sort of erotic
thriller that became popular in the 1990s with Basic Instinct.
Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932) - An early Poe
adaptation produced by Universal Studios when they were the Kings of Horror.
This one has little to do with the source material, save a scene or two; the
main character, Dupin; and the presence of an ape.
What we have is the evil
Dr. Mirakle (Bela Lugosi, decked with a wondrous unibrow) trying to prove the
Theory of Evolution in 19th century France by injecting gorilla blood in the
local female population. The blood solution proves fatals to the local
strumpets, so perhaps he needs a virgin instead. And maybe, just maybe,
Camille, the girlfriend of med student and amateur detective Pierre Dupin, will
suffice.
On one hand, you have some decent set design
and matte paintings, plus Bela Lugosi chewing up scenery with nonsensical
speeches about evolution that would make even Lamarck spin in his grave. But
then again, you have a gorilla that is played by a chimpanzee in close-ups, and
a ratty costume when seen from a distance. And as much as I'm not a fan of
presentism, the four main characters' racist dismissal of the Middle Eastern
belly dancers in the opening carnival scene makes me wish the gorilla would
just strangle everyone.
The Vampire Bat (1933) - A little German village is terrorized by a murderer who drains
the blood of his victims. The superstitious population thinks the supernatural
is afoot and that a vampire has made his home in town. The local constable,
Karl Brettschneider (Melvyn Douglas), is a bit more modern and practical and thinks
that it's "just" a very talented serial killer. Just who is right in
this case?
I owned this movie on VHS for many years--I
think I got it as a present from one of my aunts. I only watched it once,
however. Young me only wanted to see non-stop monster action, and this movie is
very talky. As an adult, I can appreciate some of the photography and
editing--the wipe-away effect is used for scene transitions, probably an early
example of that. And Fay Wray was not only beautiful, but this role didn't
require her to spend the second half screaming, so she's pleasant to be around.
The Ninth Guest (1934) - Interesting film based on a novel (and a play), all three of
which predate the publication of Agatha Christie's And Then There Were
None... by a few years. Eight people high upon NYC's social ladder are
invited to a party in the penthouse of a 50-story skyscraper by an unknown
host. Once inside, a voice on the radio informs them that they will die one by
one, unless they can outwit him (or her). Cue the deaths, revelation of secrets
and growing paranoia among the victims.
Much like the 2004
film Mindhunters, there is an overwhelming feeling that
the "host" is not only a beast when it comes to psychology, but that
his powers of reason border on a Professor X level of mind reading. But if you
can suspend disbelief in that regard, the film is a fun watch. I like how the
host points the guests to a bottle of caustic acid for those who "don't
want to play the game"; a few minutes later, one of guests tries to poison
EVERYBODY ELSE just to ensure his own survival. Well, that explains that
person's invitation to the party right up front.
The Werewolf of London (1935) - This film tells the story
of a botanist (Henry Hull) who finds a nigh-magical plant in Tibet that is
nourished by the moonlight and blooms at night. He is attacked by a werewolf
during his journey, but survives and brings the plant back to England. He
learns from a Japanese scientist (Swedish actor Warner Oland, best known for
playing Charlie Chan) that the plant serves as a temporary respite from
lycanthropy and that he himself has contracted it. As the moon enters its
"Full" phase, the botanist finds himself transforming into a werewolf
and targeting his long-suffering wife.
The portrayal of the werewolf in this movie
falls somewhere between Lon Chaney Jr.'s mindless killer and then-contemporary
depictions of Mr. Hyde. He does mangle beautiful women all over London, but he
doesn't forget to put on his jacket, hat and scarf before leaving his lab to do
so. I did like his first transformation, in which the camera is placed so that
he walk by a column or some obstruction, only to emerge on the other side with
more make-up on.
The Rogues Tavern (1936) - Another murder mystery set in
a single location--a hotel--with the guests being brought together by a series
of mysterious telegrams, and then start dying one by one. The killer leaves
bite marks in their necks. Is there lycanthropy afoot? Another pair of guests,
a detective and his girlfriend, are on the case!
I liked the killer's modus operandi and the would have enjoyed it better if the
film's hero weren't such a sexist boor. Seriously, he's a complete jerk to his
fiancée, right up to the final shot. I would have preferred a subversion of the
trope and had him be completely useless while his girlfriend--a former
department store detective--did all the heavy lifting (although she does make a
lot of contributions to the solution).
Sh! The Octopus (1937) - Apparently, this is a parody of a parody--parody #1 being The
Gorilla (filmed in both 1927 and 1930, both of which are lost)
and the subject being The Cat and the Canary (which
isn't lost). In modern terms, it's the Scary Movie (or Shriek
If You Know What I Did Last Friday the Thirteenth) to The Gorilla's Scream.
Basically, a bunch of
different people wind up in a lighthouse on a stormy night, including a
painter, two salty sailors, two idiot detectives, the daughter of a
scientist-inventor, and a couple of other people. The lighthouse may be the
hideout for an arch-criminal called The Octopus. Plus, there appears to be a
highly-intelligent giant octopus roaming the grounds, too.
The film has a giant rubber octopus and a nice
moment of sudden make-up change at the end, which was really nifty. I like the
setting, which includes the cabin next to the lighthouse, a hidden control
room, and a series of caves located in the basement of the cabin. Otherwise,
it's just a lot of motor-mouthed banter from the two detectives that might have
been funny in 1937, but only made me smile once or twice (now in 2022).
Chamber of Horrors (1940) - Another crime mystery, this
time about a rich guy who dies and leaves his estate to his young son. Most
curiously, the family jewels are to be placed in the family crypt along with
the dead man's body, behind a door closed with seven locks, to be opened only
when the young master comes of age and gets married. 10 years later, the young
master's cousin, a pretty young lady from Quebec, receives word from his aging
tutor, who needs to get something off his chest...
Outside of the King Kong property, I believe this is my first film based on the
works of crime writer Edgar Wallace. His works were frequently adapted in the
30s and 40s, and then became a cottage industry in Germany in the 60s, where
they were called Krimi films. Chamber of Horrors was
an fun little mystery with gloved hands killing people, a room full of torture
devices, paintings with holes where the eyes should be, and lots of double
crossing. Recommended.
The Wolfman (1941) - I'd actually never seent his one before. It's a classic tale of
the duality of man's nature. In this movie, Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr.) comes
back to England to become the heir to his father's estate (the father being
played by Claude Raines). He gets bitten by a werewolf one evening while trying
to saving a young lady and becomes the titular creature.
Lon Chaney Jr. totally sells his character and gives him the likability he
needs before he contracts lycanthropy so that you feel bad for him once he
develops and unwanted alter-ego. Jack Pierce's make-up is also iconic, although
for some reason, I thought the movie would give us a slow face transformation
sequence--we get a reverse one at the very end. Recommended for horror fans,
Twi-hards, and general fans of cinema.
The Cat People (1942) - A man falls in love with a
Serbian woman (French actress Simone Simon) who believes herself to be cursed:
legends say that her village descended into witchcraft and devil worship back
when the Mamlukes were terrorizing her end of Europe (around the 15th century).
The descendants of those witches could transform into panthers when angry,
scared, jealous...or aroused. Although the two marry, the woman refuses to
consummate the relationship because of her fear of the legend. Is it true? Or
all in her head?
I suppose you could see this in part as an allegory for the ravages of mental
illness on a marriage (and human relationships in general). One could
conceivably replace "mental illness" with other things like
"childhood trauma," "bad or incorrect traditions and
beliefs," and stuff like that.
Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman (1943) - Like Jason
Voorhees or Dracula, we open with a bunch of grave robbers visiting the tomb of
the Talbot family...on the night of the FULL MOON. Upon opening Larry Talbot's
coffin, his perfectly-preserved body (this should already be a warning sign for
the robbers) is exposed to the light of the moon and he is revived. He sets out
across Europe to find Maleva, the gypsy lady, and ask her what he can do so he
can just die. She directs him to Castle Frankenstein, but the Baron and his
sons are all long dead...
The movie was a lot of fun to watch, but
doesn't bear up to more than two seconds' worth of scrutiny. The film is very
wonky with the concept of time, although things like character motivation also
suffer. It's the 1940s equivalent to a Hollywood blockbuster sequel that
focuses so much on the action (since the first film or films took care of all
the exposition) that the script forgets to make much sense.
The Mummy’s Ghost (1944) - The High Priest of Arkan (George Zucco)
sends yet another priest (John Carradine) to the States to revive the mummy
Kharis (Lon Chaney Jr.) so that they can reclaim the mummy of Princess Anankha
and return her to Egypt. There's a slight snag in the plan: Anankha has been
reincarnated into a pretty young girl (Rasmay Alves). More of the same as the
previous two films—The Mummy’s Hand and The
Mummy’s Tomb--but with a suprisingly downbeat ending.
The Mummy’s Curse (1944) - The "Kharis Saga"
ends with this film, probably the worst of the bunch. The previous film ended
with Kharis "drowning" in a Massachusetts swamp. This one has Kharis
being discovered in a swamp...in the Louisiana bayou. Wait, what? Those
Egyptian priests are at it again, resurrecting Kharis and trying to return
Anankha's body to Egypt. But our reincarnated princess has also been
resurrected (somehow) and may simply not want to go back.
The love story between the
bland (and barely seen) male lead and his equally-bland (and also little seen)
female counterpart is so shoe'd in that you can see the shoe horn marks all
over it. Nothing is explained in terms of lore with regards to what happens to
princess Anankha. Between this and the previous film, you get the feeling that
Egyptian Gods are a bunch of Grade-A pricks who get off on resurrecting and
reincarnating people just to kill them shortly afterward. And as usual, the
villain' plot is ruined because one character wants to get in some immortal
panties and pisses off the mummy.
Fog Island (1945) - Tycoon-turned-ex-con George
Zucco invites a bunch people--those who cheated him and landed him a gig in the
penitentiary--to his mansion at the titular locale with retribution in mind. Of
course, being the greedy bastards they are, they accept the invitation on the
off-chance that he might have liquidated some of his pre-prison fortune and
hidden it there. Enjoyable little mystery-suspense, or "chiller" as
they were called.
The Spiral Staircase (1946) - This film is actually a very well-made
murder mystery with a hint of Gothic Romance to it. Dorothy McGuire plays
Helen, a mute lady who works as a servant at a large mansion belonging to the
Warren Family circa 1915. The village--somewhere in New England--has been
subject to a number of murders in the past few days and the local constable
thinks that Helen may be next.
One can see the Giallo influences in this film, from the black gloves we see
whenever the camera focuses on the unidentified killer skulking around, to the
occasional shots of the killer's eye as he or she watches his victims from
afar. I can't help but wonder if Dario Argento hadn't seen this before
doing Deep Red three decades later. I'm also pretty
sure that it inspired Bob Clark for his Black Christmas,
which also had some creepy eye shots of the killer and the characters' not
realizing that the killer has installed themselves in the house.
Scared to Death (1947) - A notable film for being Bela
Lugosi's only one shot in color. It also has an interesting, if poorly
realized, gimmick of the film being told from the POV of the murder victim. A
woman--a former French dancer--is convinced that her husband and father-in-law
(George Zucco) are trying to drive her insane. Could it be one of them who is
galavanting the grounds of the house wearing a spooky mask? Or perhaps it's the
husband's sinister uncle, played by Bela Lugosi? Maybe the fast-talking (and
ultra-sexist) reporter Lee can break the case! Just kinda ho-hum in the end.
The Creeper (1948) - Interesting mix of Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Gaslight. A team of
scientists returns from the West Indies, where they developed a special serum
derived from cats, to continue their research stateside. The head scientist of
the team has an adult daughter who suffered some trauma over there--she works
as an assistant lab technician--and is now deathly afraid of cats. Meanwhile,
murders are occurring around the laboratory--the victims are scratched to
death. Just what's going on? This is one of those movies that could be remade
effectively--at 64 minutes there's a lot of material that could be expanded
upon and explained better.
Destination Moon (1950) - Yeah, yeah. This isn't a
"horror" movie. Like the previous year, horror films were in short
supply in 1950. So, I went with the essential science fiction movie of 1950 and
arguably the one that set off the 50s Sci-Fi craze (it also won the Oscar for
Best Special Effects). Besides, since costume manufacturers have gone so far as
to make "Sexy Astronaut" costumes, a classic movie about astronauts
is allowed.
The plot is pretty simple. Two years after the failed launch of a rocket, a top
scientist and his general pal build an atomic engine with the hopes of going to
the Moon. They convince a brilliant engineer-industrialist to participate in
the project and bring all his fellow industrialist cronies onboard to help
finance it (with the help of an in-film cartoon starring Woody Woodpecker).
There are lots of roadblocks along the way, but they ultimately make it to the
Moon. But getting back is another story.
I once started watching this during a session of TNT's Monster Vision circa
1992, but switched it off because it was a bit dry for my tastes--I always
preferred more fantastical takes like The First Men in the Moon.
But there are certain movies that you respect on the grounds of their being
pioneers in a genre, no matter how much better the acting, casting, filmmaking
technique or special effects quality have improved over time. This is one of
them.
The Son of Dr. Jekyll (1951) - Very fascinating take on
the material is less about the monster portion of the story and more of an
analysis of the fallout of Mr. Hyde's actions on society as a whole. I felt
like this was an attack on sensationalist journalism--which we know is
problematic in the UK, where the film is set--and the Court of Public Opinion.
It speaks of a society whose members are willing to ruin a man's reputation and
life in order to profit (even indirectly) from any given media circus.
Do we have that today? Does it represent the inherent "dark side" of
the Freedom of the Press, similar to how Hate Speech represents the dark side
of the Freedom of Speech?
It would be interesting to watch the 1920, 1931 or 1941 versions of Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and then follow it up with this one (taking
some of the "retcons" in stride).
The Black Castle (1952) - This is another Universal
Studios production, ranking down with Curuçu on the
list of their more obscure horror efforts. I thought it was fairly enjoyable
stuff; nothing great, but a decent way to spend 70 minutes.
Richard Greene plays Sir Ronald Burton, an 18th century military officer who
has returned from a jaunt in West Africa. He heads over to the Black Forest in
Germany to visit the evil Count Karl von Bruno, who might be responsible for
the deaths of two of his colleagues. When we meet Von Bruno, we learn that his
castle has a dungeon full of torture devices AND a crocodile pit. Surely an
upstanding citizen.
Universal horror veterans Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney Jr. have supporting
roles here. The former plays a doctor whose loyalties are uncertain. The latter
plays the mute, hulking manservant of Count Von Bruno.
The Maze (1953) - Fascinating Gothic Horror film that
feels like a hybrid between the Gothic Romances of the previous decade and the
sci-fi/horror films of the 50s, while simultaneously being a stealth H.P.
Lovecraft adaptation *and* a preparation for Roger Corman's "Poe
Cycle." In some ways, the story plays out like a gender inversion of
"Fall of the House of Usher" by way of "The Shuttered
Room."
While enjoying his last days of being a bachelor in France, American playboy
Gerald McTeam receives an urgent letter ordering him to report to his ancestral
castle in Scotland. He leaves his fiancée, Kitty, and her aunt behind,
promising them he'll back in a few days. A couple of months later, he sends
Aunt Edith a letter informing her that he's breaking off his engagement to Kitty.
The latter just knows that something is wrong and is determined to find out the
truth. Just what will the two ladies uncover at the mysterious Craven Castle?
Director William Cameron Menzies (best known for Invaders from Mars) also
handled the production design and the film looks good, with regards to the sets
and lighting. He also had a good cinematographer on his side, too. I thought
the acting was good all around and, like The Shining, the
climax is set in a creepy hedge maze. Fans of classic horror and fantasy should
check this out.
Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) - One of the
greatest original monsters of the 1950s and one of the greatest monster movies
of that time period...probably staying in top 5 or 10 up through the 60s. The
monster suit is an inspired creation--to those not in the know, it was
developed by a woman, but a man took credit for it because...sexism.
It's interesting how this never got an official Universal remake. If the Dark
Universe, which seemed to have had no fewer than THREE attempts to start it,
had gone forward, apparently Scarlett Johanson would have donned the iconic
white one-piece. And I'm not sure when the last time we got a Gill Man monster
was. The 80s gave us HUMANOIDS FROM THE DEEP and THE
MONSTER SQUAD. There was one in the 90s TV movie THE
PRESENCE. I don't recall any Gill Man (ersatz or not) showing up
afterward. I wonder if we'll ever get a new one.
THE CREEPING UNKNOWN (1955) - Influential British sci-fi
horror film about a spaceship returning from an experimental flight somewhere
past the exosphere. Two of the astronauts aboard have simply vanished--we later
learn of their grisly fate--and one of them is alive, but been infected with an
alien lifeform. He starts killing and absorbing other organisms (including
people) all over London as he evolves more and more into a monster. Only
Bernard Quatermass, the scientist who developed the rocket, can save the day
before the creature reproduces and puts all of humanity at risk.
I had my dad tape this off TNT one evening (back when I had an enforced
bedtime) and he enjoyed it a little more than he did Five Million
Years to Earth, another Quatermass film. I think I was still a bit
immature for a movie like this, in which I wanted lots of monster action all
the time. Today, it's a lot more easier to enjoy, especially Brian Donlevy in
the role of Bernard Quatermass, playing it with Nietzschian "I am science
and thus above morality" that would serve Peter Cushing well when the
latter took up the mantle of Dr. Frankenstein two years later.
Curuçu, Beast of the Amazon (1956) - Probably the least
known of the Universal horror/monster movies, despite having enjoyed color
photography and a decent budget (as opposed to Creature from the Black Lagoon, which was filmed in the Everglades,
the crew actually went to Brazil for this). It probably has a lot to do with
the title being a bait n' switch: it's not really a horror movie, but a jungle
adventure film that moves the story from the usual Africa to Brazil.
The story is about a monster, named Curuçu by the locals, who is killing
Indian/Native Brazilian workers on plantations built along the Amazon River.
One of the plantation owners decides to travel up the Amazon to find the
creature, and is accompanied by an American doctor (Beverly Garland), who wants
to find head-shrinking powder to assist her in her cancer research.
Lots of nature footage, although instead of the usual lions, elephants, and
savannah animals, we get caimans, anacondas, piranha, tarantulas, iguanas, peccaries
and jaguars. As expected for a Hollywood film of this vintage, everybody in
Brazil speaks English. When characters do speak Portuguese, the white guy says,
"What dialect is that?" The acting is pretty dire--even the
dependable Beverly Garland is awful here. The big twist suggests that M. Night
Shyamalan watched this before penning The Village.
The Daughter of Dr. Jekyll (1957) -
I did Son of Dr. Jekyll a
few days ago, why not check up on what his daughter is up to? This was a odd
little nugget of B-cinema that purports to be a follow-up to the Jekyll story,
but then switches the monster up from "violent, immoral little
goblin" to a mixture of vampire and lycanthrophy legends.
The titular daughter is Jane Smith (the lovely Gloria Talbott) who has showed
up at her guardian's manor--her guardian being the good Dr. Loomis--with her
new beau (John Agar) in tow. One of the hired hands instantly takes a disliking
to her, convinced that she's destined to commit the same crimes as her
father--whom we learn is the infamous Dr. Jekyll. When murders in the local
village commence, Jane begins to wonder if the effects of Jekyll's drug are
hereditary.
Genre veterans will probably figure out where the story is going early on (or
at least by the halfway point), and the answer to the mystery is a bizarre one.
One person's conjecture about the villain's motives not only explains the
film's events, but negates everything we thought we knew about the original
story!
The Snorkel (1958) - Suspense
film produced by Hammer Studios in Britain, the same people that made a name
for themselves rebooting (to an effect) the Universal Horror Line-Up from the
30s and 40s, but in color, with more blood and cleavage (and nudity, by the end
of the 60s), and starring the likes of Michael Gough, Peter Cushing, and the
late Venerated Horror Film Icon Sir Christopher Lee.
The film begins with a man murdering a woman and making it look like a suicide.
The woman's daughter, Candy, thinks she knows who did it. However, she has no
proof, considering that the murder took place in Italy and the person she
suspects was in France at the time. Candy goes on a quest to prove that
person's guilt, little knowing that her efforts may either land her in a mental
hospital or worse, right in the killer's hands.
There is no mystery as to the killer's identity--or motives--rather, the
entertainment is derived from watching Candy come across clues (sometimes
without realizing it) and then we the viewer shake our fists at the TV because
*we* know she's close, but she understandably doesn't. The ending comes in
three parts--the first part is wickedly ironic; the second enters a
morally-gray area you wouldn't expect from a film of this vintage; and finally
the film ends in a way that would satisfy those stuffy British censors.
House on Haunted Hill (1958) -
This was my Halloween tradition for several years before I went on my mission
back in '01. My brother Anthony and I caught this on A&E one evening and
had a blast watching it. That same year, my Aunt Sandy gave me the VHS as a
Christmas present. I the made it a point to watch it every year on Halloween
night. Last night I made Paula and Susan watch it, although the latter fell
asleep early on.
An eccentric millionaire (Vincent Price) throws a "party" at a
haunted house--the site of several murders over the past few decades--at his
wife's behest, offering the guests 10 grand a piece (in 50s money!) if they can
make it through the night. A few hours later, there have been enough strange
occurrences (and a murder, to boot) to make one wonder if a) the place is
really haunted or b) someone is trying to do in the guests. Classic fun for
all!
The Monster of Piedras Blancas (1959) -
I used to have this Creature from
the Black Lagoon knock-off on VHS. I never revisited it as much as its
inspiration, mainly because it went the pseudo-mystery route and kept the
monster in the shadows until the final reel. CFTBL exploited its awesome monster design for all it was
worth--did this film really need to play coy with the design?
At a small coastal town somewhere in Southern California, a series of strange
murders has the residents in an uproar. The victims have been found with their
heads severed clean off and bereft of all their blood. Despite the local
constable's attempts to pass them off as an accident, some members of the town
attribute it to a local monster legend. Perhaps the curmudgeonly lighthouse
keeper, who is all yellng at the residents to stay away from certain areas of
the coast, knows more than he's letting on.
This is a lurid little film by 1959 standards. NOBODY is safe, including pets
and children. Moreover, it gives us a skinny dippy scene and implies that the
main couple are having sex on the beach--after a make-out session cribbed
from From Here to Eternity. The
severed heads on display make this one of the goriest sci-fi/horror up to that
point, certainly from Hollywood. I just wish they showed the monster more.
Black Sunday (1960) - Italian horror
film by maestro Mario Bava, one of the most visually-creative minds in the
genre. I've seen this before, but wanted to revisit it to jog the ol' memory.
The film tells the story of the evil Princess Asa of Moldavia (Barbara
Steele--to quote Dumb and Dumber, I
could eat her liver with some Bava beans and a nice bottle of Chianti...) who,
along with her manservant, is put to death for not only witchcraft, but
vampirism, too! Before she dies--via getting her face skewered with a spiked
mask--she pronounces a curse upon her brother, the head inquisitioner in the
affair. Two centuries later, both she and her manservant are revived and go
about trying to eliminate the last of her brother's line.
The film is dripping with atmosphere, complete with expert use of smoke
machines and lighting (even for a black-and-white movie). There are some
graphic moments by 60s standards, and the film checks off both the
"vampire" and "witch" boxes for my marathon.
The Innocents (1961) - Let's end
this on a respectable note. Classic ghost story, based on "The Turn of the
Screw," which was adapted a couple of years ago for Netflix as "The
Haunting of Bly Manor."
A governess (Deborah Kerr) goes to a huge countryside manor to take care of a
rich guy's orphaned nephew and niece so he can lead the good life in London
without worrying about any sort of parental responsibility. Although the
governess, Miss Giddens, initially gets along with the children, the starts to
feel the presence of SOMETHING ELSE in the house. The more time she spends
there, the more she suspects that there are malevolent spirits out to corrupt
her wards. Or are there?
The film is expertly lit and photographed (it's also a black and white movie),
and the performances are uniformly strong. It is a bit slow, however, so many
modern viewers might have their patience tested. The finale is pretty gutsy, as
far as I can tell, and I think most people will remember the final scene quite
well.