The House with Laughing Windows (1976)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The House with Laughing Windows (1976) – P. Avati

I’ve been cautious about watching Italian giallo films (so called because the original crime paperbacks they were based on had yellow covers), mostly because they are known for gruesome gore and violence, not to mention a tendency toward sexual violence and misogyny.  But some are worse than others, so I’ve tried to choose wisely. There are also some directors (say Bava or Argento) who are so stylish that their films are worth seeing even if you have to grit your teeth a bit. So, it was with some trepidation that I decided to watch Pupi Avati’s The House with Laughing Windows, which did not seem to fit the usual mold of black-gloved killers prowling after women in the night. Instead, we follow Stefano (Lino Capolicchio), an art restorer invited to a small village to work on a gruesome fresco painting of St. Sebastian in a church. Of course, he starts to suspect some sinister things are happening, confirmed when his only friend/acquaintance falls to his death from a window. Stefano receives some threatening phone calls and is abruptly turned out of his hotel, ending up in a lonely mansion (recommended by the church’s priest) that is occupied only by a bedridden elderly woman.  Soon, however, he is joined by Francesca (Francesca Marciano), a young teacher recently moved to the area, who becomes his love interest.  After they discover a creepy old tape recording of the painting’s artist, their interest in understanding his death is piqued. But things turn much darker very quickly (including a very disturbing scene where Francesca is attacked) en route to a very wild twist ending. Although slow and mysterious for most of its run-time (but not as completely confusing as others in the genre), the film does look great with its aged Italian homes and people.  The ending, although violent, does lift the film to a higher level, although it is by no means a masterpiece.

 

Dreamscape (1984)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Dreamscape (1984) – J. Ruben

Promising high concept thriller let down by its low budget and ‘80s production – Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010) took the basic premise and did it better. Dennis Quaid is a psychic who, with the help of scientist Max Von Sydow, learns to enter people’s dreams. As expected, he’s a cocky kid but with a good heart, genuinely wanting to help people having nightmares, but also using his powers to win at the racetrack and put the moves on researcher Kate Capshaw.  Enter Christopher Plummer as the Deep State head honcho who wants to train people to enter dreams to extract information and also to kill targets in an untraceable way (if you die in your dream, you die for real -- but it looks like a heart attack). When the President (Eddie Albert) decides he wants to go for nuclear disarmament and Plummer disagrees, it is up to Quaid to enter the President’s dreams to fight off Plummer’s own dream-surfing psychic (David Patrick Kelly). It’s all pretty cheesy but, you know, not bad.  You can see why Quaid’s career took off around this time.

 

Salem’s Lot (1979)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Salem’s Lot (1979) – T. Hooper

I guess I stayed away from this two-part TV movie (3 hours in total) all these years for a couple of reasons: 1) the track-record for Stephen King adaptations is pretty bad (is The Shining the only exception?); 2) David “Hutch” Soul isn’t exactly an Oscar winner; 3) did I say TV movie? (this was a different thing in 1979!).  But, well, to be honest, after a pretty shaky start (Fred Willard and Julie Cobb are having an affair and husband George Dzundza plots to catch them), the movie did start to grow on me (notwithstanding the fact that the last time I saw Geoffrey Lewis, he was having a bare-knuckled fistfight with Clint Eastwood and an orangutan).  The bottom line here is that the vampires are actually pretty spooky looking (and acting) – they gave me the creeps.  (Credit may go to director Tobe (Texas Chainsaw Massacre) Hooper). That’s what we came for – the horror story, modelled closely on Dracula, but taking place in a small town in Maine. This time Barlow doesn’t mess around – there’s no seducing of anyone, just straight for the kill and the pyramid scheme of proliferating bloodsuckers.  Brooding David Soul is there to record the clues but we all know what’s happening here. There’s also an assortment of old and classic character actors given another chance on the small screen, from James Mason (North by Northwest, Lolita, Odd Man Out), the Renfield who paves the way for Barlow’s entry to the town, to Elisha Cook Jr. (The Maltese Falcon, Rosemary’s Baby), Marie Windsor (The Killing, The Narrow Margin) and Lew Ayres (All Quiet on the Western Front, Advise and Consent) as townsfolk who help Soul or get in his way.  (Come to think of it, Cook Jr and Windsor also played a married couple in The Killing – but they are divorced here which wouldn’t be surprising given their relationship in that heist film).   And just when the comfort food of vampire lore is going down pretty easy, well into the third hour, there’s a distinct shift and things really don’t end up where you expect them to.  It’s darker, weirder, more post-apocalyptic.  I guess readers of the book would have known what to expect but I didn’t and that made all the difference.

Black Christmas (1974)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Black Christmas (1974) – B. Clark

Forerunner to what became a veritable tidal wave of slasher films in the 1980s, Bob Clark was the first to unleash a psychopathic killer in a sorority house (but with little gore and no t&a). Is this the first outing for the POV tracking camera shot, sneaking up behind the girls or watching them from closets or behind railings? (Perhaps some of the Italian giallo films were there first, with their art-directed setpieces?). Margot Kidder (fresh from De Palma’s Sisters) steals all of her scenes as the foul-mouthed drunken party girl who teases the police who are investigating the disappearance of another girl. But Olivia Hussey is the real heroine, helping Detective John Saxon to tap the telephone that the killer uses to make obscene calls (“the call is coming from INSIDE THE HOUSE”), even as we come to suspect her classical pianist boyfriend (Keir Dullea) who isn’t happy that she plans to have an abortion. Other reviewers found the film terrifying but perhaps I’m now too jaded – it lands as a dated low budget but generally well-acted artefact.

 

Desert Fury (1947)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Desert Fury (1947) – L. Allen

Technicolor noir that looks great but tends toward soap opera and fails to bring the bite that the best in the genre offer. Yet, at the same time, this is one of the more brazen (or very thinly veiled) portrayals of a gay relationship in Forties film.  Paula Haller (Lizabeth Scott) returns to her small Nevada town after leaving or getting kicked out of college, much to the displeasure of her mother, Fritzi (Mary Astor), who runs the local gambling den and dreams of better things for her daughter. Better things, like being married to ex-rodeo-star-turned-deputy-sheriff Tom Hanson (Burt Lancaster). However, when racketeer Eddie Bendix (John Hodiak) and his “friend” Johnny (Wendell Corey) return to town, Paula finds herself drawn to the gangster instead of the cop (despite the rumours that he killed his first wife).  Eddie and Johnny really do act like an old married couple, bickering all the time. But it doesn’t take long before Johnny tells Paula she’s butting in and that Eddie will never leave Johnny.  Of course, Johnny’s just Eddie’s mentor and buddy, right?  Paula’s a bit too thick to figure it all out and she tries to steal Eddie away.  It’s good to see Mary Astor (The Maltese Falcon, 1941) again in another hard-bitten but charismatic role.  Lancaster doesn’t have much to do but his star was on the ascendant by this time. Corey will be familiar to fans of Rear Window.  All told, Desert Fury is a fascinating curiosity on one level but not too exciting on most other levels.    

 

The Enforcer (1951)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Enforcer (1951) – B. Windust & R. Walsh

This later Bogie vehicle finds him uncovering a gang of hit-men, based on the notorious organised crime mob, Murder, Inc., who were exposed in 1941 by former contract killer Abe Reles. It feels surprising that Bogie’s D. A. and all of the cops supporting him have never heard the words “contract” or “hit” in conjunction with murder or the mob, but that’s the way it was. The film takes the now familiar format of a series of overlapping flashbacks, as Bogie recalls the details of the case after his key witness (based on Reles) has died on the eve of the trial of the main boss (played deliciously by Everett Sloane in what is basically a cameo). I suppose I might not be the only one who thought of Leslie Nielsen’s Police Squad spoof of this format when the plentiful scenes of Bogie interviewing various bit players about what they know start to mount up.  Yet the film is nothing less than enjoyable as it moves briskly through its paces (veteran Raoul Walsh stepped in as director when Bretaigne Windust fell ill) with enough noir flavour (courtesy of later Hitchcock cinematographer Robert Burks) to give it grit.  One to watch when you’ve exhausted the well-known Bogart “hits”.