Guilty Pleasure #86: The Horror at 37,000 Feet (dir by David Lowell Rich)


I imagine that it should go without saying that, if you’re on an airplane and you’re flying high above the ground, the last thing that you want to deal with is a bunch of angry ghost druids.

And yet, that’s exactly what happens in this made-for-TV horror film from 1973.

The ghost druids are upset because two architects (played by Roy Thinnes and Jane Merrow) have traveled to England, specifically so that they can supervise the deconstruction of ancient druid altar. Now, they’re flying the pieces of the altar back over the ocean so that the altar can be reconstructed in the United States. The spirits of the ancient druids aren’t happy about being moved so they start doing everything they can to make the journey difficult.

First, they attempt to freeze the plane. When that doesn’t work, they decide to rip it in half. One of the passengers, Mrs. Pinder (Tammy Grimes), suggests that maybe the druids will settle down if they’re offered a sacrifice. When the druids reject an offer of a doll, the passengers start to wonder if maybe the spirits would be happier with a human sacrifice.

Although some of the passengers are reluctant to buy into the whole sacrifice thing, a few of them do start to come around. For instance, there’s a perpetually angry businessman who is played by Buddy Ebsen. Once he realizes that the druids aren’t going anywhere, he has no problem with the idea of a human sacrifice. There’s also a cowboy played by Will Hutchins. If sacrificing a human is what he has to do to have another chance to ride the range, that’s what he’s going to do. Paul Winfield plays a distinguished doctor who tries to keep everyone calm while Chuck Connors is stuck in the cockpit, trying to keep the plane in the air while his passengers and crew debate the ethics of human sacrifice.

And then there’s William Shatner.

Shatner plays a former priest who has lost his faith. From the minute he gets on the plane, he starts drinking and he doesn’t stop for almost the entire movie. It doesn’t matter what’s happening on the plane, Shatner always has a glass in his hand. Playing a character who never has anything positive to say, Shatner smirks through the entire film. Shatner delivers all of his lines in his standard halfting and overdramatic fashion and it’s something of a wonder to behold. Shatner has said that The Horror At 37,000 Feet may be the worst movie in which he ever appeared and just one look at his filmography will show why this is such a bold statement.

The Horror at 37,000 Feet is definitely a film of its time. The plane comes complete with a swinging cocktail lounge, William Shatner wears a turtle neck, and all of the flight attendants wear boots and miniskirts. Everything about this film screams 1973. It’s an incredibly silly but undeniably fun movie. With a running time of only 73 minutes, the pace is fast and the druids don’t waste any time getting down to business. The film’s on YouTube so check it out the next time you’ve an hour and 13 minutes to kill.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

  1. Half-Baked
  2. Save The Last Dance
  3. Every Rose Has Its Thorns
  4. The Jeremy Kyle Show
  5. Invasion USA
  6. The Golden Child
  7. Final Destination 2
  8. Paparazzi
  9. The Principal
  10. The Substitute
  11. Terror In The Family
  12. Pandorum
  13. Lambada
  14. Fear
  15. Cocktail
  16. Keep Off The Grass
  17. Girls, Girls, Girls
  18. Class
  19. Tart
  20. King Kong vs. Godzilla
  21. Hawk the Slayer
  22. Battle Beyond the Stars
  23. Meridian
  24. Walk of Shame
  25. From Justin To Kelly
  26. Project Greenlight
  27. Sex Decoy: Love Stings
  28. Swimfan
  29. On the Line
  30. Wolfen
  31. Hail Caesar!
  32. It’s So Cold In The D
  33. In the Mix
  34. Healed By Grace
  35. Valley of the Dolls
  36. The Legend of Billie Jean
  37. Death Wish
  38. Shipping Wars
  39. Ghost Whisperer
  40. Parking Wars
  41. The Dead Are After Me
  42. Harper’s Island
  43. The Resurrection of Gavin Stone
  44. Paranormal State
  45. Utopia
  46. Bar Rescue
  47. The Powers of Matthew Star
  48. Spiker
  49. Heavenly Bodies
  50. Maid in Manhattan
  51. Rage and Honor
  52. Saved By The Bell 3. 21 “No Hope With Dope”
  53. Happy Gilmore
  54. Solarbabies
  55. The Dawn of Correction
  56. Once You Understand
  57. The Voyeurs 
  58. Robot Jox
  59. Teen Wolf
  60. The Running Man
  61. Double Dragon
  62. Backtrack
  63. Julie and Jack
  64. Karate Warrior
  65. Invaders From Mars
  66. Cloverfield
  67. Aerobicide 
  68. Blood Harvest
  69. Shocking Dark
  70. Face The Truth
  71. Submerged
  72. The Canyons
  73. Days of Thunder
  74. Van Helsing
  75. The Night Comes for Us
  76. Code of Silence
  77. Captain Ron
  78. Armageddon
  79. Kate’s Secret
  80. Point Break
  81. The Replacements
  82. The Shadow
  83. Meteor
  84. Last Action Hero
  85. Attack of the Killer Tomatoes

A Blast From The Past: A Trip To The Moon (dir. by Georges Melies)


Let’s celebrate October by taking a trip to the moon with classic film that came out 123 years ago?

Directed and written by Georges Melies, A Trip to The Moon is often cited as the first sci-fi film and the image of the capsule crashing into the eye of the man in the moon is one of the most iconic in film history.  Seen today, the film seems both charmingly innocent and remarkably ahead of its time.

For me, it always takes a minute or two to adjust to the aesthetic of early films.  We’ve grown so used to all the editing tricks that modern filmmakers use to tell their stories that these old silent films, with their lack of dramatic camera movement and obvious theatrical origins, often take some effort to get used to.  Still, the effort is often worth it.

Here then is Georges Melies’s 1902 science fiction epic, A Trip To The Moon.

The Unominated #21: Southern Comfort (dir by Walter Hill)


Though the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences claim that the Oscars honor the best of the year, we all know that there are always worthy films and performances that end up getting overlooked.  Sometimes, it’s because the competition too fierce.  Sometimes, it’s because the film itself was too controversial.  Often, it’s just a case of a film’s quality not being fully recognized until years after its initial released.  This series of reviews takes a look at the films and performances that should have been nominated but were, for whatever reason, overlooked.  These are the Unnominated.

1981’s Southern Comfort takes place in 1973.  While America tries to wind down its presence in Vietnam, a squad of nine National Guardsmen take part in war games in the Louisiana bayous.  The squad is led by the ineffectual Sgt. Crawford Poole (Peter Coyote) while other members include the trigger-happy Lonnie Reece (Fred Ward), the weed-smoking Tyrone Cribbs (T.K. Carter), the cowardly Private Simms (Franklyn Seales), and the tightly-wound Coach Bowden (Alan Autry).  Poole may be in charge but most of the members of the squad seem to look up to the laid-back and friendly Private Spencer (Keith Carradine).  The newest member of the squad is Charles Hardin (Powers Boothe), a sober-minded transfer from Texas who doesn’t seem to get along with anyone but Spencer.

With the exception of Poole and Hardin, no one takes the weekend maneuvers seriously until they find themselves lost in the bayou and it becomes obvious that Poole has no idea what he’s doing.  When they come across some canoes that belong to some Cajun trappers, they decide to “borrow” them.  When the trappers protest, Reece fires his weapon at them.  Reece’s gun is loaded with blanks but the trappers don’t know that.  They fire back, killing Poole.

The national guardsmen now find themselves lost and being stalked by the trappers, a largely unseen force that always seems to attack out of nowhere.  The men have no idea where they are.  The trappers, on the other hand, have lived in the swamps their entire lives.  The guardsmen bicker and argue over the best way to respond.  Some want to fight back and some just want to get back to civilization.  One-by-one, the men are picked off until only two remain.

Though the film is a somewhat heavy-handed metaphor for the Vietnam War, Southern Comfort is still a deeply affecting and suspenseful mix of horror and action.  Director Walter Hill keeps the action moving at a quick pace and the film, which was shot on location and featured scenes shot during an actual Cajun celebration, perfectly captures the languid yet ominous atmosphere of the bayous.  As soon as the men see those canoes unattended, we know that they’re going to steal them and that they are making the biggest mistake of their lives.  Keith Carradine and Powers Boothe both give powerful performances in the lead roles and the members of the supporting cast — especially Alan Autry and Fred Ward — make a strong impression as well.  I especially liked the performance of Brion James, who has a small role as a one-armed Cajun who is more crafty than he looks.

Being a mix of horror and action, it’s probably not a shock that Southern Comfort was ignored by the Academy.  At the very least, I would have found room for Ry Cooder’s original score and Andrew Laszlo’s haunting cinematography.

Previous Entries In The Unnominated:

  1. Auto Focus 
  2. Star 80
  3. Monty Python and The Holy Grail
  4. Johnny Got His Gun
  5. Saint Jack
  6. Office Space
  7. Play Misty For Me
  8. The Long Riders
  9. Mean Streets
  10. The Long Goodbye
  11. The General
  12. Tombstone
  13. Heat
  14. Kansas City Bomber
  15. Touch of Evil
  16. The Mortal Storm
  17. Honky Tonk Man
  18. Two-Lane Blacktop
  19. The Terminator
  20. The Ninth Configuration

Horror On TV: Hammer House Of Horror #8: Children of the Full Moon (dir by Tom Clegg)


In Children of the Full Moon, a married couple on holiday has some car trouble.  They find a large house that is looked over by Ms. Ardoy (Diana Dors) and inhabited by a multitude of children, who may or may not be werewolves.  This episode starts out somewhat light but the tone eventually shifts and things end on a memorably dark note.  Diane Dors gives a wonderful performance as the mysterious Ms. Ardoy.  Be careful about where you take your vacation.

This episode originally aired on November 1st, 1980.

ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS (TV Series) – S1, E20: “And So Died Riabouchinska,” starring Claude Rains and Charles Bronson!


I’ve never been a rabid consumer of horror films, but I do love Alfred Hitchcock. And when you consider that Charles Bronson was featured three times in his TV series, ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS, you know I’m all in. Bronson first appeared in the season 1 episode, “And So Died Riabouchinska” which starred the Invisible Man himself, Claude Rains! I thought it would be fun to revisit this early episode from the classic TV series. 

When a juggler named Ockman is found dead in the basement of a vaudeville theater, Detective Krovitch (Charles Bronson), a no-nonsense police investigator, is on the case. The prime suspect quickly emerges to be John Fabian (Claude Rains), a ventriloquist whose act revolves around his beautiful female dummy, Riabouchinska, who we find out is modeled after a long, lost love. As Krovitch interrogates Fabian and all of those around him, including his embittered wife Alyce (Wynne Miller), and her lover, the shady manager Douglas, it becomes clear that the ventriloquist has a dark and dangerous past. We discover a Fabian who is lost in a world of obsession, self delusion and even perversion, a world that the now deceased Ockman was threatening to expose.  Without giving too much away, this episode blends psychological horror with police procedural and spits out an episode that still resonates loudly on the freaky-meter!

Adapted by Mel Dinelli from Ray Bradbury’s short story, “And So Died Riabouchinska” is an exceptional entry in Season 1 of the ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS TV series. Claude Rains is incredible as Fabian. It’s a thespian tour-de-force, with Rains creating a role that’s creepy, pathetic, and oddly relatable all at the same time. I haven’t seen many of Rains’ most notable works, but based on his performance here, I do know that he’s amazing. Charles Bronson, whose strong screen presence was as obvious as the nose on his face, even this early in his career, goes toe to toe with Rains (and Riabouchinska) and helps ground the episode in something resembling the real world. It’s not a showy role for the legendary tough guy, but he conveys the toughness and authority that would go on to define his career. Performances aside, the episode is truly set apart with an emotional storyline that plumbs the depths of the human psyche in a way that seems daring for 1956 television. There are parts of this episode that will definitely make you squirm in your seat! 

Overall, in my opinion, “And So Died Riabouchinska” is an essential episode of the ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS series. It’s a lot of fun seeing Hitchcock introduce the show at the beginning and wrap it up at the end, but the best part is the fact that the story that takes place in-between is creepy, clever, and compulsively re-watchable.

October Hacks: Silent Night, Bloody Night (dir by Theodore Gershuny)


Filmed in 1972 and subsequently released in 1974, Silent Night Bloody Night is a real treat, an atmospheric thriller that has a wonderfully complicated plot that will keep you guessing.

Silent Night Bloody Night opens with attorney John Carter (Patrick O’Neal) arriving in a small town on Christmas Eve.  He’s traveling with his assistant and mistress, Ingrid (Astrid Heeren).  He’s been hired by Jeff Butler (James Patterson) to oversee the sell of his grandfather’s home.  When Carter arrives, he finds that the town is run by a group of elderly eccentrics, including the mute Charlie Towman (John Carradine).  Charlie communicates by ringing a bell and he’s the editor of the town newspaper.  Carter convinces the town council to buy the Butler mansion.  Then, Carter and Ingrid go to the mansion, make love, and are promptly brutally hacked to death by an unseen assailant with an axe.  It’s a shocking moment because, up until their death scene, Carter and Ingrid seemed to be our main characters.  Much as with Marion Crane’s shower in Psycho, their murder leaves an absence at the heart of the film.

That night, our new hero, Jeff Butler (James Patterson) comes to the isolated town to check on how the sale is going.  He finds the mansion locked up and no one willing to talk about John Carter.  With the help of local girl Diane (Mary Woronov), Jeff investigates his grandfather’s death and discovers that the town is full of secrets and people who are willing to kill to maintain them.  As we discover through some wonderfully dream-like flashbacks, Jeff’s grandfather died nearly 40 years ago when he was set on fire in his own home.  Those aren’t the only flashbacks to the film.  In an extended sepia-toned flashback, we learn about the previous inhabitants of the house.  They are all played by former Warhol superstars, including Candy Darling, Ondine, Tally Brown, Charlotte Fairchild, Lewis Love, Harvey Cohen, George Trakas, Susan Rothenberg, and Jack Smith.  (Mary Woronov was, herself, a former member of Warhol’s entourage.)

Silent Night Bloody Night has a terrible reputation.  Mary Woronov, who was married to director Theodore Gershuny at the time she made the film, later described it as being “lousy.”  Personally, I think the film’s reputation has more to do with all of the grainy, bad copies of the film that have turned up in various Mill Creek box sets over the years than the quality of the film itself.  (Silent Night Bloody Night is in public domain.)  The film itself is atmospheric, memorably bloody, and — for those who have the patience to deal with the occasional slow spot — effectively creepy.  Mary Woronov is a likable lead and the Warhol superstars definitely make an impression.  The film plays out at its own deliberate pace and, at its best, it duplicates the feeling of a particularly macabre holiday dream.

Director Theodore Gershuny uses the low budget to his advantage and the sepia-toned flashbacks are truly disturbing and haunting.  Ultimately, Silent Night Bloody Night feels like a dream itself and the mystery’s solution is less important than the journey taken to reach it.

The TSL Horror Grindhouse: Messiah of Evil (dir by Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck)


I can still remember the first time that I saw the 1973 film, Messiah of Evil.

It was on a Monday night, many years ago. I had recently picked up a 10-movie DVD box set called Tales of Terror and I was using the movies inside to try to deal with a bout of insomnia. I had already watched The Hatchet Murders (a.k,a. Deep Red) and The House At The Edge of the Park and, at two in the morning, I was faced with a decision. Should I try to sleep or should I watch one more movie?

Naturally, I chose to watch one more movie and the movie I picked was Messiah of Evil. So, there I was at two in the morning, sitting at the edge of my bed in my underwear and watching an obscure horror movie while rain fell outside.

And, seriously — this movie totally FREAKED me out!

Messiah of Evil opens with a man (played by future director Walter Hill) stumbling through the night, obviously trying to escape from something.  A mysterious woman appears and kills him.  We’re left to wonder who the man was supposed to be as the film doesn’t ever really return to his murder.  In most films this would be a weakness but it feels appropriate for Messiah of Evil, a film that plays out with the visual style and fragmented logic of a particularly intense nightmare.

The rest of the story tells the story of Arletty (Marianna Hill), a neurotic woman who drives to an isolated California town in order to visit her father. Her father is an artist who specializes in painting eerie pictures of large groups of black-clad people. However, once she arrives at his home, Arletty discovers that her father has vanished and left behind a diary where he claims that a darkness has overtaken the town.  Meanwhile, it sometimes appear as if the people in the paintings are moving or threatening to come out of the walls.

Meanwhile, one crazed man (Elisha Cook, Jr.) explains that “the dark stranger” is returning.  An albino (Bennie Robinson) drives a truck up and down the street and talks about how he likes to listen to “Wagner.”  The back of the truck is full of blank-faced people staring at the sky and the Albino eats a rat.  Finally, a mysterious man named Thom (Michael Greer) is wandering about town with two groupies (played by Anitaa Ford and Joy Bang) and interviewing random townspeople.  After meeting Arletty, they all end up moving into her father’s house.

Messiah of Evil is literally one of the strangest films that I’ve ever seen. It’s shot in a dream-like fashion and the much of the film is left open to the viewer’s interpretation.  Joy Bang goes to see a Sammy Davis, Jr. western and doesn’t notice as the theater slowly fills up with pale, red-eyed townspeople.  Anitra Ford goes to a grocery store late at night and discovers the townspeople indulging in their appetites.  If the film was only distinguished by those two scenes, it would still be worth saying.  However, Messiah of Evil is a total and complete experience, a film where every scene matters and the audience is tasked with putting the puzzle together.

This film was directed by Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck, two longtime associates of George Lucas.  (They wrote the screenplay for American Graffiti and Huyck directed Howard The Duck.)  There’s absolutely nothing else in their filmography that is as surreal as Messiah of Evil, leading me to suspect that the film itself might be a very fortunate accident.  Apparently, the production ran out of money before Katz and Huyck finished principal photography, which is what led to the film’s disjointed nature.  Accident or not, Messiah of Evil is a masterpiece of surreal horror.

Messiah of Evil (1973, directed by Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz)

Doctor Who — The Three Doctors (1972-1973, directed by Lennie Manye)


For the tenth season of Doctor Who, the BBC knew that they needed to start things off with a bang.  The first serial of season ten, The Three Doctors, brought together the first three actors who had played the Doctor.

A crisis was needed to explain why the Time Lords would decide to break their owns laws by bringing the Second Doctor and then the First Doctor out of their respective time zones.  Writers Dave Martin and Bob Baker came up with a story about the Doctor’s homeworld having its energy drained through a black hole.  If Gallifrey is destroyed then all of time and space will unravel.  (Everyone who has seen an episode of the original Doctor Who knows the drill.)  The villain is Omega (Stephen Thorne, who also played Azal in The Daemons), the first Time Lord, who has never forgiven his fellow Time Lords for abandoning him in an anti-matter universe that looks like a quarry.  The story is silly in the way that Doctor Who often could be but I think anyone watching will understand that the story is not that important.  Omega, the black hole, the energy blob that is sent to Earth to capture the Third Doctor, all of it was really just an excuse to bring back Patrick Troughton and William Hartnell.

Hartnell does not get to do much.  He was in increasingly poor health when he returned as the First Doctor and was also suffering from memory problems.  Sadly, this prevented him from sharing the same physical space as Troughton and Jon Pertwee.  Instead, it’s explained that the First Doctor is caught in a time eddy and can only communicate via the TARDIS’s viewscreen.  Even if he isn’t physically present, the First Doctor reveals himself to be the smartest of the three Doctors.  When he isn’t scolding the Second and Third Doctors, he’s figuring out how to enter Omega’s universe.  It’s not always easy to watch Hartnell looking frail and clearly reading some of his lines from cue cards but, even when ill, he still had the natural authority that he brought to the first two and a half  seasons of Doctor Who.

Patrick Troughton and Jon Pertwee are a delight to watch.  Their bickering is one of the highlights of the serial and both Troughton and Pertwee appear to have really enjoyed their scenes together.  The show also gets mileage from including the Brigadier (Nicholas Courtney) and Sgt. Benton (John Levene) along with the three Doctors.  I’ve always enjoyed how both of them come to accept the strangest of things with barely a shrug.  This is the episode where Benton enters the TARDIS and, when the Third Doctor asks if Benton’s going to point out that it’s bigger on the inside than the outside, replies, “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

The Three Doctors is hardly a perfect Doctor Who adventure.  (If any adventure needed the presence of the The Master, it was this one.)  It is, however, a tribute to the men who played the first three Doctors and the role they all played in making the show an institution.  The Three Doctors was also the final acting role of William Hartnell, who passed away two years after the serial was broadcast.