Peter Brandon | Through the Shattered Lens

The 1977 made-for-TV movie Good Against Evil opens with a woman giving birth in a hospital. Her baby daughter is forcefully taken from her and given to her father, the sinister Mr. Rimmin (Richard Lynch).

Two decades later, Jessica Gordon (Elyssa Davalos) has grown up and is working at a boutique in San Francisco. When her car is rear-ended by a free-spirited, van-driven single guy named Andy Stuart (Dack Rambo), it’s love at first sight. Jessica and Andy are so caught up in their whirlwind romance that they don’t even notice that there’s a schlubby guy following them everywhere that they go and that strangers are giving them dirty looks. Someone does not want Jessica and Andy to end up together.

How could anyone object to two young people falling in love, you may ask. Well, it turns out that Jessica is meant to be a bride of Satan and the plan is for her to eventually give birth to the Antichrist. Everyone in Jessica’s life works for Mr. Rimmin …. or, at least, everyone but Andy. Andy suddenly showing up and falling in love with Jessica throws a big old monkey wrench into Rimmin’s carefully crafted scheme. Mr. Rimmin reacts by sending an army of adorable cats to harass Andy.

This might sound like it has the makings for a good made-for-TV horror film and, in fairness to Good Against Evil, the first 50 minutes or so are pretty well-done. The movie does a good job of building up and maintaining an atmosphere of paranoia and I enjoyed watching all of the people attempting to discreetly keep an eye on Andy and Jessica whenever they went out. When Mr. Rimmin finally abducted Jessica and took her back to his mansion, I was prepared to see Andy risk his life to rescue her….

That didn’t happen, though. Instead, Andy got involved with the case of a little girl who was possessed. (Again, in all fairness, he got involved because he read a news story about the girl drawing a pentagram while in a coma and he assumed that meant she was a victim of the same cult that abducted Jessica.) Andy meets the girl’s mother (played by Kim Cattrall) and then helps an exorcist (Dan O’Herlihy) perform an exorcism. The movie ends with Jessica, still in the clutches of Mr. Rimmin.

Good Against Evil was apparently a pilot for a television series that wasn’t picked up. I assume the plan was that Andy would have a weekly supernatural adventure while trying to recuse Jessica from Mr. Rimmin. The idea had some potential. As always, Richard Lynch is a wonderfully sinister villain. But the pilot shoots itself in the foot by getting distracted with the whole exorcism storyline. It’s wonderful to see the great Dan O’Herlihy as a priest but the exorcism storyline really does come out of nowhere and the exorcism scene itself so blatantly copies The Exorcist that they really should have given William Peter Blatty an onscreen credit. Sadly, because this was a pilot, the movie ends with the main storyline unresolved. The joke is on us for caring about two people in love.

Good Against Evil is one of those films that can be found in a dozen Mill Creek box sets. Ultimately, it’s as forgettable as its generic name.

In 431 BC, the Greek playwright Euripides premiered his latest play, Medea. The story of a woman scorned who deals with her anger by murdering her ex-husband’s soon-to-be wife, future father-in-law, and finally her own children, Medea has lived on as one of Euripides’s most-performed plays. Three actresses have won Tony awards for playing Medea on Broadway, setting the record for the most Tonys won for playing the same role.

Medea is a play that is open to a lot of interpretations. Quite a few stagings of the play present Medea as being a sympathetic character, a victim of a misogynistic culture who was driven to extremes by the men around her. I can see that argument and it is true that the play does emphasize that all the men in Medea’s life treat her terribly. Creon plots to send Medea into exile so that his daughter can marry her husband. Medea’s smarmy husband, Jason, says that he has no choice but to marry a princess because Medea is only a “barbarian,” fit to be his mistress but not his wife. In many ways, Medea is a sympathetic character. But, for me, all of that sympathy goes out the window as soon as she murders her children. The fact that, in most stage versions of the play, the Gods then help her to escape makes her even less sympathetic in my eyes. (Needless to say, it certainly doesn’t do much for the reputation of the Greek Gods. Then again, one gets the feeling that even the ancient Gods didn’t particularly like their Gods.)

In 1983, Zoe Caldwell won a Tony for playing Medea. (Interestingly enough, in this production, the Nurse was played by Judith Anderson, who also won a Tony for playing Medea, in 1947.) A performance at the Kennedy Center was filmed for PBS. The production, with its minimalist sets and atmosphere of growing dread, captures the nightmarish intensity of the story. Zoe Caldwell gives a riveting performance as Medea, alternating between wild-eyed madness and subtle manipulation.

As the most horrific of the Greek plays, Medea is a production that just feels right for the Halloween season. Here is Zoe Caldwell in 1983’s Medea.