Get out of the House! / She's not Herself Today

“Oh, Mother of God! I’m coming apart!”

I had realized, while watching The Amityville Horror (1979) and doing a little study, that this film celebrated its 40^th Anniversary back in July. I would have watched it then had I known. Some memories attached to this film I have. I can distinctly recall Rosenberg’s death and happening to catch this on flix channel in March of 2007. I believe it was on a Wednesday, actually. Funny how that viewing is so fresh to the mind. And the very first time I watched this was a recording I found off of late night WGN, in Chicago. It was cut, of course, but it was at least a starting point. I actually didn’t grow up with this film as others did. I was only two years old but in the late 80s, this film, like others, was a VHS darling. This was sort of the kind of film, despite its critical dismissal and many horror fans rejected it as well, that just had certain markers that kept it relevant even as its reputation remained rather dogged by long-term derision. A lot of my friends feel it is undeserved of its popularity and notoriety, except if one finds it unintentionally hilarious. I mean George’s chopping of firewood, nuns and priests violently ill, Murray Hamilton and John Larch as diocese with one major scene refusing to give Steiger the rights to do an exorcism in the Lutz home despite teary-eyed and passionate pleas in such cold fashion that it leaves a devastated feeling of hopelessness, lots and lots of flies, bleeding walls [natch], money that just goes missing, lots and lots of black sludge, a car that throws up a hood, fails to break, and accelerates but Steiger gets no support from Stroud (who is behind the wheel) resulting in the diocese just accepting vehicle “error” as the cause, a closet door trapping a babysitter in hysterics, a window that drops down on a kid’s fingers, the front door exploding open, Helen Shaver hilariously possessed and crying out in a different voice about the presence in the basement while clutching her ears, Stroud just going on as if nothing is happening to Steiger when all the evidence would indicate otherwise, and the detective on duty keeping an eye out on the house and Lutzes just seemingly dismissed without much assistance to anyone. **

I do think there is a great transition scene where Kidder has a nightmare of finding her kids slaughtered with Brolin burying the ax into her head with her awakening, lying her head down as the blood-red autumn leaves in front of the house are juxtaposed with Kidder's face. The House with its Window Eyes and Schifrin's score remain quite masterful. All the demonic antics seem like effects parlor tricks that fail to do anything much, but the audience of the time ate it up. Damn thing made a lot of money and still has enough value to keep bringing eyes to it. Hell, I watch it every few years or so. Although, I think that is because of Steiger and Kidder. Kidder's interview on a special for the film is must-see as is Brolin's comments on being so serious and intense in his role. Steiger deserved a metal for the fierce shouts that literally bulge veins and nearly capillaries.

Kidder’s death last year cast a depressing cloud over my viewing of Black Christmas (1974) and watching this film this year had me resuming my thoughts each time I watch it…she, to me, was never more stunning. But this isn’t her at her best. She’s frightened mother, confused wife, and her Kathy Lutz tolerates a lot of attitude and asshole treatment from Brolin’s George. One thing’s for sure, George is made up to resemble a deteriorating ogre quite well with his dark, menacing eyes, intense stare, corrosive presence, and quick-trigger temper…all seemingly instigated by staying in the house. Not helping is the pressure of the IRS, bills not being paid, missing money of Kathy’s brother for catering of the wedding that George volunteers (believing it will be found, but it is not) with a check that ultimately bounces, and a crumbling small business that appears to be heading towards bankruptcy. And the damned house with its evil causing mischief makes mattes much, much worse.

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Sunday evening was almost specifically about Psycho (1960). I hadn’t watched the 90 minute feature in quite some time. There was a DVD release, a Collector’s Edition, in 1998 (right around the time Leigh starred with Curtis in the H20 Halloween film, directed by Miner) that brought together several who were part of the production of Psycho, including actress, Janet Leigh, Hitchcock’s daughter, Pat, the assistant director, wardrobe assistant, screenplay writer, Stefano, among others, with incredible anecdotes any fan of the film should owe it to themselves to watch. Obviously there is a wealth of detail and knowledge provided to us, like how Saul Bass provided beautiful storyboards (though he didn’t direct the shower sequence), how long it took to shoot the shower sequence (Leigh says she was there for about three weeks and half the time was spent going over how to perform in that one room), the Hayes Code workarounds, the use of lingerie, how Leigh was able to perform inside the car without saying word as she thinks about the ramifications of the stolen money, Perkins onset, Stefano’s time in analysis regarding his own mother and how they factored into the screenplay, the full moon popping up in the sky at the most inopportune time when shooting the Bates Home, the use of a nude model and how Leigh and Rita (wardrobe) covered up her naughty bits with moleskin, among other details. I can’t recommend this feature enough. Perhaps it can be found elsewhere, but the DVD edition I have is an essential part of my DVD library. 

Much like Night of the Living Dead (1968), Psycho is just a film I’ve talked about so many times and there just doesn’t seem to be an end to my interest in writing about it. I wish I had folks in my life I could just chat horror with ad nauseum, but sadly my fellow internet horror nerds are my refuge often. They don’t make for an audience you can shoot the breeze with in a café or bar, though. Or even in a living room. ‘Tis the way life works sometimes. Tonight’s viewing sparked up my fondness for seeing Hitchcock shooting Perkins through angles and particular stances. Like when he hears Gavin’s Sam Loomis calling for Arbogast Balsam), not knowing he’s dead. He is a distance away, and the night almost darkens him into silhouette. Or how he turns around against the wall after seeing Marion Crane’s body in the bathroom, in a gasp and yet he smiles as the car (whose trunk she’s held in) goes into the swamp right after it hesitates its descent. The bird with wings outstretched on the wall as Norman talks to Marion or his smile when Arbogast is forced to leave the premises after wanting to see Mother. Norman does indeed become the “star” of the film once the audience realizes Leigh is legit only a part of the first act. What clever and important casting. ****