Reflections on ... The Silent Scream (1979)

Recently watched: The Silent Scream (1979). Tagline: “Terror so sudden there’s no time to scream”. (Interestingly, this film is also sometimes called simply Silent Scream with no “The”). 

It’s a pulpy, no-frills and enjoyably old-fashioned proto-slasher with a “madwoman-in-the-attic” twist straight out of Jane Eyre. Basic premise: perky college student Scotty Parker (Rebecca Balding) missed out on campus accommodation, so seeks to rent a spare room – and of course, winds up lodging with the freaky Engels family: unnerving oddball teenage son Mason (Brad Rearden) and glowering ashen-faced, black-clad matriarch Mrs Engels (Yvonne De Carlo). Really, everything about them should have set alarm bells ringing, but Scotty isn’t exactly a deep thinker. 

/ Above: Yvonne De Carlo as Mrs Engels /

Anyway, what makes The Silent Scream irresistible is its cast: De Carlo, Cameron Mitchell and none other than iconic wraith-cheekboned scream queen Barbara Steele! I’m always fascinated by the vagaries of fame and the phenomenon of second-tier golden age Hollywood actors who never quite made the big bucks (or made bad investments), still had mortgage payments (or alimony payments), swallowed their pride and gamely made forays into the “disreputable” realm of horror and exploitation cinema in the seventies. (It may have been perceived as “demeaning” at the time, but we know better now). Think of the later careers of De Carlo, Aldo Ray, Ray Milland, Shelley Winters, Veronica Lake and Gloria Grahame. Or indeed the bizarro filmography of Mitchell, which encompasses Italian giallo (Mario Bava’s Blood and Black Lace (1963), no less), spaghetti westerns, blaxploitation, biker gang movies, disaster movies, martial arts movies, science fiction, no end of low-budget horror and even pornography (something called Dixie Ray Hollywood Star from 1983). As gruff Lieutenant McGiver, Mitchell’s face looks taut as a drum, and he seems to be wearing Tony Curtis’ wavy, grey-steaked pompadour toupée. 

Anyway, I’ve deliberately said almost nothing about Steele (pictured above), but rest assured she is absolutely riveting. The Silent Scream is easy to find online streaming for free. Below is the version I watched.

Reflections on ... Mirror, Mirror (1990)

 

Recently re-visited: teen-focused supernatural horror movie Mirror, Mirror (1990). 

If you’re roughly my age (Gen X), you probably have a vague recollection of catching this one on cable TV. When sulky, sensitive goth misfit Megan (Rainbow Harvest) and her mother Susan (Karen Black) relocate from Los Angeles to the suburbs, the mean girls at her new high school take an immediate dislike to her. (“Doesn’t she know punk is over?” one classmate sneers). But Megan’s new house comes with a demonic cursed mirror in her bedroom, which soon comes in handy … 

Like so many horror movies, Mirror, Mirror is indebted to Carrie (1976). (When the jock boyfriend of one of Megan’s tormentors asks, “What have you got against her?”, she snaps, “Lighten up! It’s just a joke. It’s not like we’re going to throw pig’s blood on her or anything!”). The fact that Mirror, Mirror was directed by a woman (Marina Sargenti) with a largely female cast and crew opens it up to feminist analysis. It boasts a fun supporting cast, including William Sanderson (who I always associate with Blade Runner) as Susan’s boyfriend and Yvonne De Carlo (Lily Munster herself!) as an antique shop proprietress. (De Carlo fully embraces this un-glamorous character part: in a moment worthy of Shelley Winters, we see her slurping take-away Chinese food and picking her teeth in close-up). Black’s eye-crossing, wig-wearing performance as the neurotic Susan anticipates Jennifer Coolidge. (Imagine Coolidge in White Lotus spluttering "That mirror is trying to kill me!"). There’s a fun twist ending. 

And the luminous Rainbow Harvest - painstakingly styled to evoke Winona Ryder as Lydia Deetz in Tim Burton’s Beetlejuice two years earlier - makes a compelling black leather-jacketed anti-heroine (and I deliberately say “anti-heroine”: part of what makes Mirror, Mirror interesting is that Megan becomes more complicated and less sympathetic as the film progresses). It’s a shame Harvest didn’t have a bigger career after this. Watch for a moment of foreshadowing when Black discards a cigarette butt in the kitchen garbage disposal – an omen for something horrific that happens later! Maybe it’s just me, but I yearned for a moment of Megan cranking up her ghetto blaster or Sony Walkman to find out what music she listens to. And there are no posters on her bedroom wall to indicate the bands she likes! What’s she into? The Cure? Siouxsie and the Banshees? Sisters of Mercy? Considering this was 1990 and she’s a California girl, maybe Jane’s Addiction? I demand to know!

Mirror, Mirror is easy to find streaming for free (I watched it on Prime. I bet it's on Tubi too).

The fabulous screencaps of Rainbow Harvest in Mirror, Mirror are via. 

The Next Lobotomy Room Film Club: The Flame of the Islands (1956) on 18 May 2023

 

Let’s face it: spring 2023 has been a grey, dismal bust so far! To remedy that, this month’s Lobotomy Room cinema club whisks you away to torrid tropical climes with a presentation of Flame of the Islands (1956) - the irresistible acme of juicy, pulpy and garish fifties b-movie melodramas via poverty row studio Republic Pictures, shot on location in the Bahamas, filmed in scorching Trucolour and starring tough, sensual and glamorous atomic-era brunette sex goddess Yvonne De Carlo! Yes – that Yvonne De Carlo, television’s Lily Munster, in what I’d argue is her best screen role (and, yes, I am including her performance as Moses’ wife in Biblical epic The Ten Commandments (1956)). 

Flame shares the same premise as many another fun campy film: a brassy good-time girl (usually some variation of “nightclub singer”) rocks-up in some exotic locale and her mere presence - and disruptive sexuality - can’t help but wreak havoc. Think of Marlene Dietrich in Seven Sinners (1940), Rita Hayworth in Miss Sadie Thompson (1953) or Jane Russell vehicles like His Kind of Woman (1951), Macao (1952) or The Revolt of Mamie Stover (1956). De Carlo gets to sing (she has two kitschy calypso musical numbers, one of which is entitled “Bahama Mama”), conceal a painful secret, fight-off unwanted romantic overtures from multiple men and pursue the man she really loves, complete with spectacular wardrobe changes (including a fluffy angora sweater that Ed Wood Jr himself would covet). So, won’t you join us for “the hottest thing in the tropics” on Thursday 18 May? 

Lobotomy Room Goes to the Movies is the FREE monthly film club devoted to cinematic perversity! Third Thursday night of every month downstairs at Fontaine’s bar in Dalston! Two drink minimum (inquire about the special offer £6 cocktail menu!). Numbers are limited, so reserving in advance via Fontaine’s website is essential. Alternatively, phone 07718000546 or email bookings@fontaines.bar to avoid disappointment! The film starts at 8:30 pm. Doors to the basement Bamboo Lounge open at 8:00 pm. To ensure everyone is seated and cocktails are ordered on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest. For more info, see the Facebook event page. 

/ Seriously, you will want to see Zachary Scott wearing this outfit! /