I remember the first time that I ever watched the original Night of the Living Dead, I was really stunned and, to be honest, quite upset by the death of Tom and Judy. They were so likable and earnest that I guess I naturally assumed that they would survive or, at the very least, they wouldn’t die in such a pointless manner. But, ultimately, that’s what made Night of the Living Dead such a frightening film. It didn’t matter who you were or what you’re intentions were. The Dead were going to kill you and then they were going to eat you.
Honestly, everyone should have just stayed in the cellar.
Now, in all honest, it’s not just The Birds that cause chaos in this scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s 1963 film of the same name. I will never understand why that gentleman decided that he just had to light up a cigar at that particular time. And if he had used a lighter instead of a match, he could have prevented a lot of trouble.
That said, you do have to respect the Birds for somehow knowing that he would do exactly that and therefore, making sure that the gasoline ended up right around his feet. Those birds are clever!
Seriously, though, this scene really creeps me out. I think it’s because there’s so many birds and, as this scene showed, there was absolutely no way the humans on that island were going to be able to win this particular battle.
For today’s horror scene that I love, I present to you the opening of Jess Franco’s 1962 film, The Awful Dr. Orlof.
Franco doesn’t have the best critical reputation but I’ve always felt that, when he wanted to and actually had the time and the budget, he was capable of directing some memorably surreal scenes. The opening of The Awful Dr. Orlof is full of atmosphere and sudden horror. It plays out like a dream of dark and disturbing things. Franco often claimed to a disciple of Orson Welles (and Franco reportedly did do some second unit work on Chimes At Midnight) and the opening of Dr. Orlof, with its shadowy cinematography and its skewed camera angles, does definitely show some Wellesian influence.
From 1962, here’s the opening of The Awful Dr. Orlof:
Today’s horror scene that I love comes from 1959’s House on Haunted Hill. As the film opens, Vincent Price takes a moment to speak directly to the audience and introduce the characters who are coming to spend the night at the house. Price, who is one of the patron saints of October, delivers his lines with such relish that it’s impossible not to stick around to see who survives the night.
Today’s horror scene that I love comes from one of my favorite films, 1953’s Creature From The Black Lagoon. In this scene, Julia Adams goes for a swim. Little does she realize that, under the water, the Creature is following her every move. Wonderfully directed by Jack Arnold, this creepy yet oddly lovely scene is one of the best of the 50s.
Today’s horror scene that I love comes from the 1953 film, The War of the Worlds.
Now, it’s probably not quite correct to say that I love this scene. This is a scary scene and not necessairly one that you’ll want to revisit a hundred times. Instead, this is a scene that I think is extremely well-done. It’s a scene that perfectly establishes the fact that, in this film, humanity has no hope when it comes to defeating the Martians. Trying to reason with them, as Uncle Matthew does, is useless. Trying to fight them, as the army does, is useless. Matthew is atomized as he approaches in peace. The tough and plain-spoken military man — a reassuring authority figure in so many 50s films — is destroyed as he orders everyone out of the bunker. The Martians, meanwhile, are unstoppable and, even worse, they are without mercy or concern for the people that they are destroying.
Seriously, this is a frightening scene when viewed today! I can only imagine how it traumatized audiences in 1953. If you need evidence of this fact, just consider that YouTube actually put a warning on the video that it might be too traumatic for some viewers.
After watching this scene, all I can say is Thank God for the common cold.
Today’s horror scene that I love comes from 1941’s The Wolf Man. Watch as poor Larry Talbot transforms, for the first time, into The Wolf Man! I’ll be the first to admit that, in the past, I’ve been pretty critical of Larry as a character and Lon Chaney, Jr.’s performance in the role. But, in this scene, Chaney does an excellent job of capturing Larry’s helplessness as the curse takes effect for the first time.
For our first Scene that I love for this year’s Horrorthon, I’m sharing the opening of the 1931 classic, Frankenstein. The scene below features neither Colin Clive or Boris Karloff. Instead, Edward Van Sloan breaks the fourth wall and, in his humorously avuncular way, lets the audience know what’s in store for them.
Today, of course, we all know the story of Frankenstein and his monster. However, imagine how audiences in 1931, many of whom probably knew nothing about the story they were about to watch, must have felt when Edward Van Sloan specifically took a minute to warn them that they were about to see something terrifying. You have to remember that Van Sloan was talking to the first generation of regular filmgoers and he was introducing them to one of the first true horror films of the sound era. Today, it’s easy to smile when Van Sloan says, “You can’t say we didn’t warn you.” In 1931, I imagine it probably sounded more like a dare. Van Sloan was asking, “Do you have the courage to stay in theater?” It’s kind of charming, isn’t it?
Edward Van Sloan was a bit of fixture when it came to the early Universal horror films. Not only did he play Henry Frankenstein’s mentor but, in the same year, he played Prof. Van Helsing in Dracula. He also had a key supporting role in The Mummy. When it came to explaining the supernatural and the undead, no one else did it with quite the class of Edward Van Sloan.
Today’s scene that I love comes from 1975’s The Passenger, a film directed by Michelangelo Antonioni. Antonioni was born 110 years ago today, in what was then the “Kingdom of Italy.”
In The Passenger, Jack Nicholson plays a journalist who, because he’s bored with his life, impulsively assumes the identity of a deceased American businessman. What he discovers is that the businessman was an arms dealer and that the people that the arms dealer were doing business with still expect to get their weapons. Despite the fact that he knows that it might cost him his life, Nicholson is still drawn to see just how far he can take his new existence.
The film’s enigmatic final scene, in which Nicholson goes to a hotel to wait as both the people who double-crossed and his wife search for him, is Antonioni at his best.
Through the Shattered Lens 