An interesting unintentionally similarly themed double bill tonight.
First off came Don't Be Afraid Of The Dark (the original obviously as the remake isn't quite upon us yet).
I can see why it holds a particular place in the heart of Americans of a certain age in the same way that The Auton Invasion and later Ghostwatch does for Brits of a certain age (at least Ghostwatch had the notoriety of only being shown once because of the outrage it caused but once the secret is out it really isn't that scary unless you were there on the television battlefield when the thing was deployed on an audience too tired or lazy to notice it was billed as a drama).
It's a bit rubbish to modern eyes but in a way which gives it a uneasy quality all of it's own. If I saw this as a child I would have certainly had nightmares about it. Watching it now it's still got a certain something but I can't quite articulate what it is.
Jim Hutton tries his best to compete with Oliver Reed (no not that one) in Cat People (1942) for the crown of most unsympathetic husband in a genre role.
I was then under protest encouraged to sit through The Brood.
I was already well acquainted with the film from my teenage years as a gore hound and made the mistake of mentioning that I lost my first digital watch on Worthing beach and saw a poster for the film at the Dome cinema there to the better half who hadn't heard of it.
Well... it was tiny people leaping out of cupboards time all over again.
This time the film really is still as screwed up and uncomfortable to watch as I remembered it to be when I first saw it.
Like most of Chronenberg's movies there are thoughtful ideas woven into the unpleasant show. Oliver Reed (yes that one) doesn't seem to be trying hard enough but boy does Samantha Eggar make up for it (the freakiest eye rolling this side of Black Narcissus).
The problem I've always had with the film is still there.
I know a lot can be done with editing but those children are giving such a good performance of being traumatised by seeing mutants bashing people to death with wooden mallets and meat tenderisers that I can't help but think they weren't acting.
It's almost as if the director had become the Reed character and would stop at nothing to produce results in his emotional experiments.
I appreciate that film does deliver the goods but I'm just worried about the effect making the piece had on the very young cast members in a way I'm not when I watch Linda Blair in The Exorcist.