Halloween 2023: October 6th

What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)

In 1922, silent child star turned popular starlet Mary Miles Minter had her career derailed when director William Desmond Taylor – whom she either had an affair or an infatuation with, despite a thirty year age gap – was mysteriously murdered. While Minter was never implemented in the crime, the association more-or-less ended her promising career. Years later, she became a figure of Hollywood gossip, forgotten by the public and growing ever-more eccentric within her Los Angeles home. Rumors persist that this story inspired Henry Farrell to write his novel “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?” Just two years after its publication, the book would adapted into a low-budget film that became a box office smash and critical success. In the process, a new subgenre of horror – focused on elderly woman doing horrible things, often starring over-the-hill stars of Hollywood's golden age – was created. 

In 1917, ten-year-old “Baby Jane” Hudson is a star of the vaudeville stage. She's spoiled and adored by her father, while older sister Blanche is neglected. Years later, Blanche becomes a beloved movie star while Jane's career flounders. Following a mysterious car accident – which Jane is blamed for – Blanche is confined to a wheelchair. Now old women, Jane increasingly brutalizes her invalid sister. While Blanche remains a screen icon, Baby Jane has been forgotten. This pushes Jane to snap, regressing more and more into a child-like persona and taking her years of resentment out on Blanche. 

The real world subtext of “Baby Jane,” and almost all of the classic psycho-biddy films, is impossible to ignore. The only reason a movie like this could get made is because past icons like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford were no longer getting leading lady roles. Hollywood doesn't have much use for actresses once they are past a certain age, even those that were once major stars. This is reflected in Jane Hudson's story. Once she packed theaters and had dolls in her likeness made. Now, nobody has any idea who she is. Much has been made – including an entire TV mini-series – of Joan Crawford and Bette Davis' real-life rivalry. This on-set tension undoubtedly informed their performances. Yet it's unavoidable that these actresses certainly had a personal connection to the material. Who else would know better what it was like to be a washed-up actress, who knew all about the highs and stings of fame achieved and faded, than people who actually lived through it?

Yet I don't think “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?” became a hit in 1962 just because the behind-the-scenes gossip. Even outside the context of Hollywood stardom and the fickleness of fame, this is a story of long-held resentment between siblings. As a child, Jane was an entitled, spoiled little brat, while Blanche lived in her shadow. Once Blanche became a star, she took care of her fading sibling by insisting she get roles in all her movies. Since the accident, the roles have reversed again. All of this has left a lifetime of hang-ups between the sisters. Jane makes no attempt to disguise her contempt for Blanche, while she still plays the nicer older sibling. You see this all the time in families, where one sibling holds lifelong grudges while the other insists on being the peace keeper. It's not a balance that can be maintained forever, inevitably leading to those tensions boiling over.

Considering these operatic themes of sibling rivalry and fading stardom, it's unsurprising that “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?' arches towards camp eventually. Jane's revenge veers towards the grotesque pretty much immediately, feeding her sister a beloved pet canary and a rat. The film's setting, a Beverly Hills mansion full of shadows and obscure corners, emphasizes this feel of oversized Gothic melodrama. Even the premise, of someone imprisoned in their own home by a deranged sister, recalls the tropes of Gothic literature. Director Robert Aldrich and cinematographer Ernest Haller certainly emphasize this, with neigh-comedic shots like Blanche spinning her wheel chair in circles. Joan Crawford plays the role with the stately, slightly exaggerated seriousness that would become her trademark in horror films.

As much as “Baby Jane” is deliberately courting camp and dark comedy, it can't help but strike me as a tragic story. Jane is a total bitch and Bette Davis plays her as such, really digging into her tempestuous dialogue. (Further emphasized by the monstrous pancake make-up she wears throughout.) Yet her fixation on her childhood stardom is understandable. All of us have had dreams deferred by the realities of growing older. In the film industry, where youth is especially favored, that's even more the case. When she begins to sing her trademark song, only to burst into tears at the sight of her own wizened face, shows the sadness of her situation. As Jane slips more and more into her delusions, it's clearly a protection against her pathetic reality. She'd rather be Baby Jane forever, then an old woman that nobody remembers. 

Despite a subplot with Victor Buono that doesn't go much of anywhere, leading to a slightly overlong run time, “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?” is still a classic for a reason. Much more psychologically dense than many of the hag horror films that would follow in its wake, the inherent tragedy in the performances and the story builds to a distressing and heart-breaking final scene. Of course, considering these kind of movies would largely define the last act of Crawford and Davis' careers, that can't help but add an extra layer of sadness. I doubt either star wanted “Trog” or “Wicked Stepmother” to be their final films. But I guess being Grand Dames of Grand Guignol is better than being forgotten like Baby Jane Hudson was... [9/10]

Intruder (1989)

One of the great indie horror success stories of the eighties is Sam Raimi's “The Evil Dead.” It would lay the foundation for Raimi's extraordinary career and make Bruce Campbell a nerd icon. The story of how a bunch of lunatics from Michigan made one of the most creative, enduring cult classics of the decade would inspire a whole generation of filmmakers. Among those chasing that same dream was Scott Spiegel, part of Raimi's inner circle of collaborators. Spiegel's career never took off to the degree his buddies did. By the end of the decade, you could tell Spiegel was still trying to birth his own “Evil Dead”-style success. That would take the form of “Intruder,” a slasher flick made several years after the subgenre's halcyon days. Spiegel would invite along some of his old friends for the project, insuring “Intruder” a small cult following of its own over the years.

The employees of a grocery store show up for what they assume to be just another night at work. Things get off to a bad start when cashier Jennifer's ex-con ex-boyfriend, Craig, shows up, harassing her and picking fights. Next, managers Bill and Dave informs everyone that they've sold the store and they all soon be unemployed. Plus, everyone has to pull an all-nighter to mark the entire inventory down to half-price. That's when the bodies start to pile up. An unseen killer is picking everyone off, one by one. Soon, Jennifer is the last girl standing. Is the killer Craig or some other intruder? Don't look at half of the posters if you don't want that spoiled.

When you're talking about the slasher movie, a genre defined ninety percent of the time by clichés and formulas, setting goes a long way. Placing the expected slaughter in a novel location can go a long way towards distinguishing a film. A grocery store is a strong choice, because it's a setting familiar to anyone, which also allows for many people to be isolated at the same time... And lots of interesting ways to off people. That last factor is what energizes “Intruder” more than anything else. Spiegel and his co-writer Lawrence Bender certainly had fun thinking up ways to kill folks with objects found in a supermarket. A receipt spike, a cardboard baler, meat slicer and hooks are all used to execute unlucky victims. KNB Effects make sure each murder scene provides lots of spurting fake blood and ripped-up latex flesh. 

There are other signs that Scott Spiegel was eager to recreate the success his buddy Sam reaped. While Raimi's films are well known for their creative camerawork, Spiegel tries to apply his own visual tricks here. “Intruder” is fond of point-of-view shots. The camera is positioned from inside a shopping cart, behind cereal boxes, looking down at a shelf of Oreos, and from the perspective of a flung box cutter. At one point, the camera even peers out from inside a rotary phone dial. While not quite as inventive as Raimi's “Evil Dead” visuals, it is memorable. In general, the darkened aisles of a grocery store, the butcher locker, and the storage room add a nice ambiance to the film. 

You can also tell that Spiegel shares a similar approach to horror that his pal Sam does. Namely, that gory set pieces are best contrasted with some dark comedy. A butcher knife shoved into the back of the head is followed by a shot of a sign, imploring workers to be safe around sharp edges. In the middle of the climatic chase scene, the slasher stops to stand a package of paper towels back on the shelf. A lot of the humor comes from the quirky cast. “Evil Dead 2's” Dan Hicks goes nicely over-the-top as the Southern-fried co-manager of the store. Sam and Ted Raimi similarly give quasi-comedic performances as underlings at the store. Clearly a little more thought than necessary for a body count film was put into the characters and dialogue here. The movie probably would've been improved by slotting the charming Renee Estevez into the final girl role, as Elizabeth Cox is a bit flat in the role. 

By the way, “Intruder” would be one of the last movies distributed by Empire Pictures... Meaning I have another excuse to bring up Charles Band. Befitting the exploitation cinema hucksterism we associate with Band, every home video release of “Intruder” touts Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell's involvement on the boxes. Despite the former only having a supporting role and the latter not appearing until a cameo literally seconds before the credits roll. The DVD even sticks an unrelated picture of Campbell on the back! I'll admit, that's the reason I first watched the movie too. You can't call “Intruder” high art but, within the realm of eighties slashers, it has enough novelty, personality, and grue to keep me entertained during its brief 88 minute run time. Sometimes, an interesting location, one or two recognizable faces, and a shit ton of fake blood is all I really need. [7/10]

The Evil Touch: Scared to Death 

In my continued effort to expose myself to as many obscure horror anthology shows as possible, I have traveled to the distant land of Australia. “The Evil Touch” aired for one 26 episode season on Australia's Nine Network in 1973. Each episode was hosted by Anthony Quayle from inside a swirling green vortex. Despite its down under origins, it was produced by an American and frequently featured well-known actors. The presence of familiar faces like Leslie Nielson or Darren McGavin led the program to popping up a few times on international networks, including brief runs on TV Land and Bravo in the nineties. For the most part though, “The Evil Touch” has been largely forgotten. 22 of the 26 episodes are circulating around the internet

Among these surviving episodes is “Scared to Death.” It follows Evan, a man cheating on Constance, his much older and rich wife, with her comely nurse, Jeanette. After a make-out session is interrupted, Evan quickly tells Jeanette to hide in a closest. Expecting the infidelity, Constance instructs her husband to build a brick wall over the closest door. Afterwards, Evan refuses to acknowledge that he committed a murder. Meanwhile, Constance starts to see Jeanette around the home. Did the old woman go insane from guilt or is she being haunted? 

Yes, this is the fourth variation on “A Cask of Amontillado” I've ended up watching this season. I swear, I'm not doing this on purpose. Anyway, “Scared to Death” is quite lame. The idea that Evan, played blandly by character actor Jack Thomson, just willingly goes along with building a wall over a closest door is a flimsy set-up. “The Evil Touch” must've had an extremely low budget, as the entire episode is set inside as average looking a suburban home as possible. Mildred Natwick is bitchy but never betrayed or unhinged as Constance. The twist concerning the nurse's actual fate is extremely easy to predict, though the exact details suggest some bizarre things about this home's construction. About the only element that rises above forgettable seventies TV standards is a slightly mean twist ending. Quayle is an amusingly hammy host but otherwise this one did not impress me much, making me unlikely to try “The Evil Touch” again. [4/10]

The Munsters: Just Another Pretty Face / Big Heap Herman

“Just Another Pretty Face” has an admittedly great premise for an episode of “The Munsters.” After Grandpa forbids Herman from snooping around in his laboratory, his son-in-law does exactly that. While down there, Herman gets zap by a machine that has the unforeseen side effect of turning him into a regular human. The rest of the family struggles to deal with this big change. In “Big Heap Herman,” the family votes to go to the beach for a yearly vacation. Herman overrules everyone and insists they go to western resort Buffalo Valley instead. Herman unwittingly gets off the train in the middle of nowhere and wanders into a Native American village, who mistake him for a mythological god. Hijinks ensues. 

Obviously, my brain is aware of the fact that Fred Gwynne doesn't actually look like Herman Munster. Yet the character is such a live action cartoon character, that seeing his voice come out of a normal human is such a surreal sight. This disconnect only increases once Gwynne adopts Herman's typical exaggerated body language to his unmasked face. Seeing the family respond to this change is worth some especially amusing laughs though. Eddie's lack of respect for his no longer deformed father and Lily's reaction to an attempted kiss are high-lighted moments. The solution to the problem involves a callback to 1931's “Frankenstein” that I appreciated. The last third features a series of gags that are pretty low-brow, though Gwynee attacks them with aplomb like always. Also, a baby-faced Dom Deluise shows up as the family doctor for an amusing sequence. 

If the little bit of cross-dressing at the end of “Just Another Pretty Face' made you cringe, brace yourself for “Big Heap Herman.” The show at least goes with the idea that the Native American village Herman stumbles into intentionally play up the stereotypes in order to appeal to tourists. The two most prominent members of the village are still played by white actors, Ned Romero and Len Lesser, while the cliches are otherwise played up. Tipis, totem poles, big feathered headdresses, and lots of unfortunate broken English appear. It's all definitely unfortunate. Even more-so because the earlier scenes, of the family scaring people on the train or Herman boring everyone by reading from a travel brochure, are decently funny. I guess accidental racism comes with the territory when watching old TV shows sometimes. [Just Another Pretty Face: 7/10 / Big Heap Herman: 5/10]