Reflections of Murder (1974) - TV Movie

Dir: JOHN BADHAM

Country: USA

Original Transmission Date: 24/11/1974

The detective novel Celle qui n’était plus by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac has proved itself to be a very durable and influential work for cinema. The first screen adaptation came in 1955 with the peerless French production Les Diaboliques, which was expertly and stylishly directed by the brilliant Henri-Georges Clouzot. This in turn was a major influence on Alfred Hitchcock who turned to the work of Boileau-Narcejac for his 1958 production Vertigo, and who also incorporated some of their narrative strategies in Psycho (1960). In Britain a whole slew of monochrome psychological thrillers were produced by Hammer, who were inspired by the resounding commercial success of Psycho, but sought their inspiration from Les Diaboliques. This is most keenly felt in Taste of Fear (1962 – US title Scream of Fear) which is replete with a swimming pool, and a fragile female protagonist. A rather drab and forgettable TV movie remake of Les Diaboliques appeared in 1993 under the title House of Secrets, airing on NBC it starred Bruce Boxleitner as the abusive spouse, Melissa Gilbert as the weak hearted wife, and Kate Vernon as the mistress. A $45 million remake followed in 1996 under the title Diabolique, and though it was intriguingly cast with Sharon Stone and Isabella Adjani, it failed to reach a sizeable audience and was universally panned by critics. Where these two films failed ABC’s movie-of-the-week Reflections of Murder, which aired on 24^th November 1974, manages to succeed, and emerges as the second best screen adaptation of Boileau and Narcejac’s important novel.

The Stranger Within (1974) - TV Movie

Dir: LEE PHILLIPS
Country: USA

Original Transmission Date - 01/10/1974

Whilst Richard Matheson is still chiefly known for his novel I am Legend (1954) and the ensuing film adaptations of it that followed in 1964, 1971, and 2007, and for his screenwriting work for cinema in the 1960s (highlights include House of Usher [1960], Night of the Eagle [1962], The Raven [1963] and The Devil Rides Out [1968] his work for American network television in the 1970’s remains as equally interesting, in spite of the relative lack of column inches it receives. This lack of attention may be due to the fact that a number of his teleplays were overshadowed by the men who directed and/or produced the movies. Duel (1971) for example is rarely discussed as a Richard Matheson film despite the fact that he wrote the teleplay and the short story it was based on. Film scholarship has chosen to make Steven Spielberg the main man. His teleplays The Night Stalker (1972), The Night Strangler (1973), Scream of the Wolf (1974), Dracula (1974), Trilogy of Terror (1975), and Dead of Night (1977) were all presided over by director/producer Dan Curtis. For some Curtis is an ‘auteur’, and the films previously mentioned are almost always discussed as part of his oeuvre rather than Matheson’s. In my opinion it is Matheson’s world view that informs these productions, and this state of affairs only goes to highlight an institutional and scholarly lack when it comes too appreciating the contribution of the screenwriter.

A Ghost Story for Christmas - The Stalls of Barchester (1971)

Dir: LAWRENCE GORDON CLARK
Country: UNITED KINGDOM

Original Broadcast Date - 24/12/1971

The chilling short story The Stalls of Barchester Cathedral first appeared in M. R. James’ 1911 collection More Ghost Stories, and was chosen by writer/producer/director Lawrence Gordon Clark as the curtain raiser to what would become eight consecutive ghost stories broadcast by the BBC at Christmas between 1971 and 1978. The path had already been trod to some degree by Jonathan Miller, who had written and directed an adaptation of James’ Whistle and I’ll Come to You, in 1968, for the BBC’s Omnibus. Such is the success of Miller’s effort that it is often erroneously considered a part of the A Ghost Story for Christmas series. Although The Stalls of Barchester does not quite reach the heights of its predecessor (which benefits tremendously from its monochrome palette and the beautifully observed performance of Michael Horden) it does have numerous merits of its own. The muted and purposefully under lit cinematography of John McGlashan for example offers an indication that the filmmakers were thinking with black and white in mind, though the delicate candle lit study of Archdeacon Haynes (Robert Hardy), his bedroom, and the eerie cloisters of Barchester Cathedral generates its own peculiar atmosphere of unease. Clark utilises off screen space particularly well, with the menacing visitations of something supernatural existing at the extreme periphery of the frame, and only emerging in the briefest glimpses of a black cat, and most disturbingly of all, a grey lifeless hand with frighteningly sharp talons.

The Ray Bradbury Theater - Season 1 (1985-86)

The 1980’s was an excellent time for enthusiasts of the anthology format on television. I can certainly count myself as one of those, as my total inability to follow an ongoing narrative over twelve or possibly twenty four episodes testifies. It’s hard to pinpoint where this renewed interest began; perhaps it was the big screen success of such films as Creepshow (1982) and Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983).  Certainly the latter would have been instrumental in the resurrection of The Twilight Zone (1985-89), and the former might have played a large part in George A. Romero’s thinking when he set up Tales from the Darkside (1984-88). In addition to The Twilight Zone in colour, we also got to see a re-colourised Alfred Hitchcock introduce a whole new batch of episodes as Alfred Hitchcock Present (1985-89) made a return. Other anthology shows that took their bow in the 1980’s included Amazing Stories (1985-87), The Hitchhiker (1983-91), Monsters (1988-91), Tales from the Crypt (1989-96),  Hammer House of Horror (1980), Freddy’s Nightmares (1988-90) and Friday the 13^th – The Series (1987-90) to name but a few.

The Telephone Box (1972)

Dir: ANTONIO MERCERO
Country: SPAIN

AKA:
La Cabina

Original Transmission Date - 13/12/1972

The Telephone Box was a short film made for Spanish television in 1972. Its origins are humble, but its status as a cult film is incontestable. It is incredibly unusual for a short film, especially one from a director who is still largely unknown outside his native Spain, to acquire such a following. It would almost be impossible for it to happen now, but in the early 1970’s when short films were often screened as support features (quite often they were educational or public safety films) and on late night television, the chances were slightly improved. The majority of these films were seen once, left an indelible and haunting impression, and were then the subject of nostalgia, word-of-mouth, and ultimately a long (and often fruitless) quest for a second view or even ownership. The relative obscurity and unavailability of The Telephone Box has been of paramount importance in its development as a cult object. The significance of the film has grown in proportion to its descent into the gloomy netherworld of a distribution limbo. This isn’t entirely the only reason for its cult status however; one of the key signifiers of a cult film is generic hybridity, and The Telephone Box has this in abundance. The film opens as a kind of anarchic surreal comedy, before subtly shifting into a realm of puzzlement and mystery, and then concluding in outright horror. Three generic shifts in thirty-five minutes may seem unwieldy and problematic, but the filmmakers pull it of with such confidence, that the cumulative effect is quite devastating.

Dead of Night (1977) - TV Movie

Dir: DAN CURTIS
Country: USA

Transmission Date: 29/03/1977

Almost exactly two years to the transmission date of Trilogy of Terror (1975) writer/director/producer Dan Curtis returned to the anthology format for three more tales of mystery, imagination, and terror, in the shape of Dead of Night. In those two years he had had departed from the horror genre and offered up a small screen action movie with The Kansas City Massacre (1975), and much more significantly realised an opportunity to helm a feature film in the shape of Burnt Offerings (1976). It’s clear from this insipid and monotonous cinematic exercise that Mr. Curtis was far more comfortable operating within the regimen of network television. It seems likely to me that had Burnt Offerings being a major critical and commercial success we may not have had Dead of Night, which on the strength of the final story Bobby, would have been a great shame indeed. The chief thing it has in common with Trilogy of Terror, aside from being an anthology, is that its reputation entirely rests on the final story. Trilogy of Terror has rightfully become something of a cult item, but this has never detracted from the fact that the first two stories are pretty lousy. Unfortunately the same fate befell Dead of Night, whose first two stories are so trivial and dull that they have completely undermined the films claim to the same type of cult following enjoyed by Trilogy of Terror. They both also have Richard Matheson in common, and I’m increasingly of the opinion that anything written for the screen by Mr. Matheson is worth a look.

Gargoyles (1972) - TV Movie

Dir: BILL L. NORTON
Country: USA

Transmission Date: 21/11/1972

Over the past few months I’ve watched a number of American TV horror movies from the 1970’s and 1980’s in a bid to bolster the cult television section of the site. On my journey it has become impossible to ignore the most recurrent feature of these old ’movies-of-the-week’; namely that the quality and effect of many of these films have been grossly exaggerated by the nostalgic twittering of writers/reviewers who now seemingly find it impossible to be objective about them. Thus far I have only come across a select handful of these movies that live up to the unhelpful hype and stand up to modern scrutiny; both Duel (1971) and Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981) remain towering examples of the form, and anything with the name Dan Curtis attached to it offers a seal of quality that was not replicated elsewhere. The latest allegedly brilliant and/or terrifying TV horror movie to cross my desk is Gargoyles, which was broadcast on CBS in November 1972. The most distinguishing feature of this patchy 74 minute effort is the excellent costume design and special make up effects created by Stan Winston; the most impressive of which is rightfully reserved for the lead gargoyle played by Bernie Casey. You can always tell a film is in a spot of bother when the best thing about it is a costume! I had no option to conclude that Steven and Elinor Karpf’s pitiful and laughable screenplay was totally undeserving of Mr. Winston’s inspired efforts.

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (1973) - TV Movie

Dir: JOHN NEWLAND
Country: USA

Transmission Date: 10/10/1973

Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark is a humble ABC movie-of-the-week that was first televised on the 10th October 1973. Almost forty years on Guillermo Del Toro is still so impressed by this spine chilling 74 minute TV movie that he produced a remake. I’ve opted to do the sensible and intelligent thing; I’ve totally avoided the pointless remake, and instead watched the original again. To be fair to Mr. Del Toro remaking Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark makes a lot more sense than many of the other films that have been remade in recent years. Although it has cultivated a cult following over the years the original has been a particularly elusive item; its reputation being fed by the nostalgic memories of a generation traumatised by the diminutive demons that emerge from a bricked up fireplace. To coincide with the release of the remake Warner’s put the original out on DVD as part of its Archive Collection; excellent news for the America market, but disappointing for everyone else. Hopefully one day Warner’s will extend this fine service beyond the borders of America. Nevertheless there are still a myriad of ways to view this piece if you know where to look. One thing that The Celluloid Highway totally eschews is allowing nostalgia to colour an appraisal of a film. I find it an entirely unhelpful avenue, and one that defeats the object of criticism; so the question is without the rose tinted spectacles of childhood does Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark stand up to an objective critical scrutiny?

The Norliss Tapes (1973) - TV Movie

Dir: DAN CURTIS
Country: USA

Original Transmission Date: 21/02/1973

History tends to be written by the winners, and as a result the landscape of 1970’s horror strains under a stifling orthodoxy. A prevailing critical consensus (partly attributable to academia as well as fan worship) that propels names like Argento, Craven, Romero, Hooper, Cronenberg and Carpenter into the forefront at the expense of others doing equally important work in the genre. One such man whose contribution to the typography of the genre in the 1970’s remains criminally underrated is Dan Curtis. The problem is that Curtis spent the majority of his career working (either as a writer, producer, or director) in the restricted confines of television. If you want a simple index of how culturally insignificant American television was considered in comparison to American cinema in the 1970’s look no further than Dan Curtis. Curtis is now most recognised for his cult television series Dark Shadows (1966-1971) and his three TV movies The Night Stalker (1972), The Night Strangler (1973) and Trilogy of Terror (1975). His only directorial credit on the big screen was the indifferent Burnt Offerings (1976) which was more of a showcase for the histrionics of Oliver Reed and Karen Black than it was for Curtis’ direction. However when one delves deeper into the filmography of Mr. Curtis one is surprised by the number of hugely entertaining and generically progressive TV movies he worked on. One such example is the very enjoyable The Norliss Tapes.

Crowhaven Farm (1970) - TV Movie

Dir: WALTER GRAUMAN
Country: USA

Original Transmission Date: 24/11/1970

The relative emptiness of The Celluloid Highway’s Cult TV Archive has bothered me for some time, so I’ve decided to make a conscious effort to explore in more detail, the often fertile soil of the small screen. In the United States the made-for-television horror movie became something of a cult institution, and flourished from 1968 to 1989. I personally consider this to be the time period of greatest interest. This is a subjective choice on my part, so I hope nobody gets there knickers in a twist if they disagree. One of the benefits of being from the UK is that I never got to see many of these TV movies when I was growing up, and therefore I do not approach them now wearing the rose tinted spectacles of nostalgia. Just check out how many reviews for these TV movies give them undue credit simply because they generate a childhood nostalgia! Of course there were a handful of elite TV horror movies that broke the shackles and enjoyed wider distribution - Duel (1971), The Night Stalker (1972), Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark (1973), Killdozer (1974), and Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981) just to name a few. But for every Dark Night of the Scarecrow there is a Crowhaven Farm. The title might have a certain rustic pastoral charm, but the reality is that this particular effort from November 1970 is a dreary exercise in tele-visual tedium.

The Stone Tape (1972)

Dir: PETER SASDY
Country: UNITED KINGDOM

Original Transmission Date: 25/12/1972

The 1970’s represented a high watermark of creativity in the small screen landscape of British television. Fans of science-fiction thrilled to the ongoing adventures of Doctor Who (1963 - present), Doomwatch (1970-72), The Tomorrow People (1973-79), and Blake’s 7 (1978-81). Meanwhile fans of the supernatural were catered for by the BBC’s annual Ghost Story for Christmas (1971-78) and such adult anthology programmes as Dead of Night (1972), Beasts (1976), and The Mind Beyond (1976). Many of the creepiest and most disturbing of genre programmes were reserved for children, with serials such as Escape into Night (1972), Shadows (1975-78) and Children of the Stones (1977) providing sleepless nights for youthful imaginations. One man who had a consistent gift for unsettling material was the writer Nigel Kneale. In the 1950’s enraptured audiences excitedly followed the three serials he wrote featuring the gifted scientist Professor Bernard Quatermass. In the 1960’s Kneale spent a lot of time writing film screenplays, but still found time to return to the small screen with the prescient science-fiction allegory The Year of the Sex Olympics (1968). The 1970’s saw Kneale working exclusively in television, and in 1972 he wrote his penultimate script for the BBC…the chilling feature length festive fright The Stone Tape.

Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981) - TV Movie

Dir: FRANK DE FELITTA
Country: USA

Original Transmission Date: 24/10/1981

Very few made for television movies have achieved the cult prominence of Halloween favourite Dark Night of the Scarecrow. It was originally broadcast on CBS in October 1981, became a network mainstay for many years, a success on video rental, and an unlikely success in other territories as well. I can personally attest to this by remembering several screenings on British television during the 1980’s which haunted my fractured dreams. In confirmation of the films cult credentials US distributor VCI belatedly issued a DVD in September 2010, and more impressively still issued a blu-ray in October 2011. Naturally the strictures and regimentation of US network television meant that the emphasis was very much placed on the writing. The teleplay was provided by J. D. Feigelson, and he produced a literate and well constructed plot, peppered liberally with some wonderfully acerbic moments of dialogue for the villain Otis P. Hazelrigg (Charles Durning). Nevertheless there are still several moments of surprising violence (the shooting of Bubba, the pitchfork fate of Hazelrigg), and one particularly unpleasant moment of off screen violence (the death of Harless). But it is the films almost total reliance on a carefully cultivated atmosphere of simmering small town tensions that sets it apart from contemporaneous efforts in the horror genre.

Nightmares and Dreamscapes - Battleground (2006)

Dir: BRIAN HENSON
Country: USA/AUSTRALIA

Original Transmission Date: 12/06/2006

The Stephen King short story Battleground remains one of my favourite pieces from the worlds leading writer of dark fiction. I first read it at the age of fifteen and its ingenious narrative and rapier sharp construction left a lasting impression on me. It was first published in the September 1972 edition of Cavalier, and then in the wake of the tremendous success of Carrie (1974) Salem’s Lot (1975) and The Shining (1977) was anthologised in King’s first collection of short stories Night Shift (1978). For my money this still remains King’s most original and consistent collection of tales. The decision to include Battleground as a part of TNT’s anthology series Nightmares & Dreamscapes left me both excited and worried. In the past television’s treatment of King’s works had gone from the sublime to the ridiculous. The first mini-series to be based on his work was Salem’s Lot, which aired in November 1979. In many ways this was as good as it got. Since Tobe Hooper’s memorable and chilling effort, small screen adaptations of King have struggled to live up to this early benchmark. Amongst the very worst of King’s mini-series adaptations include such abominated trash as The Tommyknockers (1993), The Langoliers (1995) and Rose Red (2002). The made for television movie hasn’t fared much better with stinking offal such as Sometimes They Come Back (1991), Trucks (2000), and Desperation (2006). How would the first anthology series based on King’s work fare?

Doctor Who - The Seeds of Doom (1976)

Dir: DOUGLAS CAMFIELD
Writer: ROBERT BANKS STEWART
Country: UK

Original Transmission Dates:
31/01/1976 - 06/03/1976 (6 Episodes)

Season 13 (1975-76) of Doctor Who saw the programme reach a pinnacle of derivation under the stewardship of producer Phillip Hinchcliffe and script editor Robert Holmes. In the wrong hands this might have been disastrous, but in fact the stories that emerged were highly inventive variations on a theme shot through with an enthusiasm only matched by Tom Baker’s beaming smile. The season opener Terror of the Zygons explored the mythology of the Loch Ness Monster within the framework of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), Planet of Evil was a direct take on Forbidden Planet (1956), and Pyramids of Mars and The Brain of Morbius delightfully recreated the saturated style and atmosphere of Hammer’s gothic horrors whilst finding time for innovative uses of The Mummy and Frankenstein motifs. The season finale was the most ambitious of all. A six part adventure encompassing both the Antarctic and the English countryside and recycling the themes and plot devices of John Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids (1951), The Quatermass Experiment (1954), and The Thing From Another World (1951). The resulting tale The Seeds of Doom is one of the most enjoyable stories of Tom Baker’s tenure, and perhaps most impressively is that all too rare six part adventure that doesn’t suffer from too much padding, and doesn’t have episodes that feel tacked on in order to extend the story.

Masters of Horror: Dance of the Dead (2005)

Dir: TOBE HOOPER
Country: USA

First Transmitted - 11/11/2005

One has to admire the bravery (or possibly outright gall) of series creator Mick Garris in inviting several washed up has-beens to contribute direction to the first season of Masters of Horror. There is a certain amount of back slapping and arse kissing endemic in a project like this, because if one were to be entirely objective it about there is no way that in 2005 Tobe Hooper would qualify as a ‘Master of Horror’. Hooper has made lots of horror films yes, but he hasn’t made a single good one in my lifetime. In fact I would argue that Hooper has only made one creatively successful horror film and that was his astonishing debut picture The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974). Unlike his contemporaries in the 1970’s Hooper peaked instantly. His career since has been a pallid and depressingly dreary attempt to recapture the ferocity and creativity of his first film. In this respect Hooper’s later career must surely rank as the most disappointing in horror history. The promise of his first film was destroyed almost immediately with his lacklustre thematic follow up Eaten Alive (1977). Somewhat surprisingly though he did manage to direct an excellent television mini-series adaptation of Salem’s Lot (1979), proving that he could adapt to the strictures of television with aplomb. Unfortunately Salem’s Lot has proven an exception in Hooper’s career, and though some horror fanatics might cite The Funhouse (1981) (I’d prefer to watch the grass grow) and Poltergeist (1982) (Hooper pimping himself out to Spielberg whose themes dominate the film) the reality is that these films are largely inconsequential and bereft of ideas and intelligence. But based on thirty years of shocking mediocrity Mick Garris invited Hooper to take part in Masters of Horror. So we have thirty years of cinematic garbage from Hooper, what would his episode Dance of the Dead be like?…believe it or not its utter garbage!

Masters of Horror: Homecoming (2005)

Dir: JOE DANTE
Country: USA

First Transmitted - 02/12/2005
Masters of Horror - Season 1, Episode 6

The majority of episodes that comprise the two seasons of Masters of Horror vanished, in my opinion justifiably, into a cultural limbo that is only navigated by the most hardened of horror veterans. By and large there was little of prominence here, not even the heavily scented whiff of nostalgia - the horror directors of yesteryear continued their depressing plunge into the patchy avenues of mediocrity. However there were two episodes in the first series that did manage to break the shackles of the restricted form and gain unexpected column inches and unexpected praise. A lot of column inches and controversy was reserved for Takashi Miike’s breakout episode Imprint. For those unused to Miike’s grotesque excesses the episode was startling. In my view Takashi Miike was the only director invited to take part in the series that is a true contemporary Master of Horror. Even though he rarely works in the genre, his films are infused with a sense of surreal chaos, of societal breakdown…the only unifying factors being bizarre sexual perversions and brutal violence. The other episode that attracted the attention of the critical mainstream was the Joe Dante contribution Homecoming. I happen too agree with Dante’s assertion that all horror films are political. But traditionally horror has utilised metaphor and allegory, few horror films possess the literalness of Homecoming. It is not open to multiple readings, Homecoming is a liberal/leftist attack on the Bush Jr administration and the illegal war in Iraq that was fought on the back of a lie.

Doctor Who - An Unearthly Child (1963)

Dir: WARRIS HUSSEIN
Writer: ANTHONY COBURN
Country: UK

Original Transmission Dates:
23/11/1963 - 14/12/1963 - 4 Episodes

What better way to start The Celluloid Highway’s occasional look at the classic series of Doctor Who than with the four part adventure that started it all. The 23rd November 1963 became a landmark date in the history of tele-fantasy when audiences were first introduced to the fog enshrouded junkyard that housed a police telephone call box that also happened to be a conduit into the fourth and fifth dimensions of time and space. The opening episode of An Unearthly Child introduces us to the quartet of time travellers with economy and speed. The mystery, initially at least, revolves around the character of Susan Foreman (Carole Ann Ford), a 15 year old girl who has her teachers at Coal Hill School utterly bemused. Her science teacher Ian Chesterton (William Russell) feels that she imparts her vast knowledge a little at a time, so as not to make him feel inferior and her history teacher Barbara Wright (Jacqueline Hill) is perplexed at her shifts from brilliance to stupidity. Rather unethically the teachers decide to follow the girl home to 76 Totters Lane and their curiosity is rewarded with their first fateful encounter with the enigmatic genius known as The Doctor.

Masters of Horror: Dreams in the Witch House (2005)

Dir: STUART GORDON
Country: USA

First transmitted on 04/11/2005
Masters of Horror - Series 1, Episode 2

Many filmmakers have attempted to navigate the delirious cosmic terrors of H. P. Lovecraft, but Stuart Gordon has been the most persistent. I don’t rate Gordon particularly highly as a filmmaker, but he has achieved something nobody else has; he’s actually made a decent film based on Lovecraft material. In this case the blackly humorous Re-Animator (1985), a film which retained the spirit of Lovecraft, but bravely adopted a sardonic tone, the result of which was one of the most original variations on the themes established in dozens of Frankenstein films. Since then Gordon has returned to Lovecraft on four separate occassions with varying degrees of success. He followed Re-Animator with From Beyond (1986) and offered up a visually ravishing spectacle full of colour and surreal special effects, but sadly the film had more artifice than substance, and only rarely approached the agitated feverishness of Lovecraft. His third attempt at Lovecraft was Castle Freak (1995), based on the story The Outsider and was largely an unsatisfactory and uninspired affair. This was followed by Dagon (2001), a film which has cultivated something of a cult reputation, but once again betrayed the narrative and the sense of encroaching and impending doom in favour of highly impressive visuals and a colour palette bathed in a chilly blue. His fifth attempt was on the invitation of Mick Garris for the first season of Masters of Horror. Gordon chose to adapt the tale Dreams in the Witch House, and the result is easily Gordon’s feeblest and most lacklustre Lovecraft adaptation to date.

Masters of Horror: Cigarette Burns (2005)

Dir: JOHN CARPENTER
Country: USA

First Transmitted - 16/12/2005

In the last twenty years the stock of John Carpenter has plummeted to such depths of mediocrity that my expectations for his contribution to the first series of Masters of Horror were not high. The concept of creator Mick Garris (himself a maker of mediocre and undistinguished films) was a novel one and on paper at least intriguing enough to warrant viewing the episodes. Of course a cursory glance over the names attached to the series indicate that this is either a nostalgia trip or a pallid attempt to resuscitate careers that flat lined decades ago. Carpenter’s is one such flat lining career, who like so many of his contemporaries almost entirely rely upon a reputation forged in the 1970’s and early 1980’s. Although this was episode 8 of the series, this was the first one I saw, and as this is an anthology series the order is unimportant. Much to my surprise Cigarette Burns turns out to be one of the strongest episodes of the series and something of a semi return to form for Mr. Carpenter. If one were to measure his films purely by enjoyment factor, then this ranks as his best effort since 1988’s They Live. Of course Masters of Horror is very much a directors for hire type series, and Carpenter had nothing to do with the writing of the teleplay. This was handled by the unfortunately named Drew McWeeny and Scott Swan. The post-modern and intertextual nature of the episode is not especially in keeping with Carpenter’s oeuvre, but Carpenter does manage to direct some well mounted set pieces.

Omnibus - Whistle and I'll Come To You (1968)

Dir: JONATHAN MILLER
Country: UK

First transmitted on the 07/05/1968 on the BBC

First published in the masterful 1905 collection Ghost Stories of an Antiquary, the short story Oh Whistle and I’ll Come to You My Lad is easily one of M. R. James’ most disturbing and arresting tales. With his background in the dusty libraries of academia and the enforced introversion of a scholarly way of life James created a series of pompous protagonists whose social skills have been blunted by their obsessions. They are not mere representatives of scientific rationality as you might find in lesser ghost stories, but also men of vanity, pride, hubris and an overriding sense of their own intellectual superiority. This gives them a depth and dimension that makes the inevitable encounter with the forces of the supernatural so much more powerful. In the wake of these chilling episodes with the unknown denial becomes vital to an act of self preservation because there is so much on the line. Not just their own conceptions of reality, but their careers and positions within the esteemed halls of universities; a position that would become untenable without their denial of the events. With this in mind Professor Parkin’s (Michael Horden) repetition of the word ‘no’ at the end of the BBC’s dramatisation of the tale takes on added significance.