The Baloney Sandwich Horror
Tonight's movie was The Dunwich Horror (1970). H. P. Lovecraft's semi-classic horror story is given a low-budget run for the money. It starts out ok and goes downhill at a nice steady pace, but it doesn't stop when it reaches the bottom of the figurative hill. It plunges straight into the figurative earth and actually picks up speed as it burrows deeper and deeper and passes through B-Movie hell to come out on the other side where it has you laughing out loud better'n The Three Stooges in Opryland.The big special effect in this film is to make the picture go red-negative and then to cut (again and again) to scenes of the sea crashing on rocks. And, for some reason, they filmed many of the scary scenes on beautiful, sunny california, blue-sky days. Made me want to be there.
Young Dean Stockwell is a gas as he apparently makes up satanic rituals on the fly, holding fists to his temples with thumbs out and saying "Mog wagga hoc" over and over. And catch the gay little flourishes he does with the ritual knife.
But the best part, and this is almost worth the price of the rental, is Sandra Dee---at 28 past her prime as a teeny star, but posessed of a truly hot bod---spreadeagled in a black nighty on the ritual altar. Delicious lingering shots of her thighs and even a glimpse of a nipple, yes this is the "Tammy, Tell Me True" Sandra Dee, as fiendish Dean Stockwell caresses her creamy breast while (offcamera) impregnating her with...THE UNBORN HORROR.
I also like the "dream demon" scenes, where what appear to be painted hippies on LSD chase a mildly perturbed Sandra around through beautiful, sunny california fields. Geez, where was I when they made this? I would have loved to have played a dream demon in this film.
The one real mystery in this movie is, what happened to the DUNWICH HORROR? When last seen, it is chasing townspeople through the woods and killing them by making them scream themselves to death. (By the way, notice how the Dunwich townspeople all hang out in a crowd and travel around together in a single pickup truck.) Then we cut (ok, this is a spoiler, if you have the IQ of a grapefruit and actually care what happens at the end), then we cut, I say, to Ed Begley turning Stockwell into a flaming marshmellow by counter-chanting at him. But, as near as I can tell (and I may have looked away at my aquarium for a critical second, I admit) the DUNWICH HORROR is never actually dispatched and must still be roaming those woods. Oh my.
