NIGHT OF THE DEMON/CURSE OF THE DEMON: Blu-ray (Columbia, 1957) Indicator/Powerhouse
One of the most hauntingly
surreal and ambitious, yet ultimately flawed horror movies of its generation,
Jacques Tourneur’s Night of the Demon
(intermittently referred to as Curse of
the Demon,1957) is a twisted incarnation of the vintage film noir meets the
occult, black magic and the devil, superbly photographed by Edward Scaife. If
only the machinations ironed out by screenwriters, Charles Bennett and Hal E.
Chester had lived up to either Bennett’s original draft or Montague R. James’
novel, ‘Casting the Runes’ – a
page-turning labyrinth – then the film might have truly lived up to its name.
Incidentally, the confusion today between ‘Night’ in the U.K., and, ‘Curse’
in the U.S. derives from an executive decision made by producers, Chester and
Frank Bevis, who thought ‘Night’ would confuse audiences with
‘Night
of the Iguana, then in general release). Moodily lit and photographed in foreboding
B&W, Night/Curse of the Demon founders almost from the first scene;
its narrative loopholes repeatedly salvaged at the last possible moment by some
bone-chilling sequences that seem to provide enough connective tissue for the
audience to get through the experience. These vignettes promise to improve the
overall tenor and tempo of the piece, but ultimately unravel as Tourneur rather
desperately tries to make head or tails of his unwieldy, if heart-pounding
roller coaster ride.
Charles Bennett
owned the rights to James’ book but sold his stake in the project to Chester
before departing for America. It was a decision he later, and forever
thereafter, much regretted, particularly when the rechristened Night/Curse
of the Demon wound up as the bottom half of a double bill, then quickly
disappeared off the marquee altogether. The story of a fairly intrepid skeptic,
Dr. John Holden (played with a sort of lazily incubated charm by Dana Andrews),
who becomes the next intended victim of a wealthy cultist, Dr. Julian Karswell
(tremendously accomplished in all his otherworldly menace by Niall MacGinnis),
definitely had potential. But the narrative waffles between Holden’s
prerequisite exculpatory investigation of Karswell (utilizing some wonderfully
atmospheric locations, including the British Museum, Stonehenge and Brocket
Hall) and a rather perfunctory ‘romance’ roiling to a smolder between Holden
and laconic eye candy, Joanna (Peggy Cummins); daughter of the recently
deceased Professor Henry Harrington (Maurice Denham) whom Holden has come to
England to meet for a seminar on the supernatural.
Given Holden’s
involvement on this project, he rather peculiarly lacks ‘faith’ to believe in
the paranormal. Indeed, he is downright adverse to the inference something ‘otherworldly’
and ‘diabolically concocted’ this way comes. However, Holden’s powers of
observation, as well as his doubts will be tested – and very soon. For it seems
Henry Harrington died a truly horrific, yet mysterious death; charred and
mutilated after his car struck a telegraph pole near his home one dark and
foggy night. Director Tourneur kicks off his story with this big reveal;
Harrington pursued by a vengeful demon, inflicted upon him by Karswell, despite
Henry’s pleas to Karswell to call off this winged vapor from hell. It seems
Harrington had earlier accused Karswell of practicing the ‘black arts’ as the leader of a demonic cult. The allegation made
all the papers and created quite a scandal for Karswell who, at least on the
surface, leads a supremely pleasant and very laid-back existence as a
middle-age bachelor, residing with his mother (Athene Seyler) on a sprawling
country estate, Lufford Hall.
Of course,
Holden knows none of this beforehand. And so, Tourneur and the Chester/Bennett
screenplay spends an interminable amount of time setting up this back story for
Holden’s benefit rather than ours: his cute meet with Joanna aboard a plane
from New York to London (his repeated attempts to get some sleep, thwarted by
her need to move around while making notes); Holden’s quick consultation with
professors, Mark O’Brien (Liam Redmond) and K.T. Kumar (Peter Elliott) – who
seem rather oddly devout and united in their unscientific fear of the unknown
(arguably, counterbalance to Holden’s own abject dismissal of the paranormal as
pure nonsense); Holden stumbling into Karswell at the British Museum while he
is researching the history of witches and demons (and having Karswell immediate
put a curse on him); and finally, ‘cute meet #2’ – Holden bumping into Joanna
at her father’s funeral, finally making the connection; she is Henry’s
daughter. This rather arduous ‘connect-the-dots’ has its moments and pleasures
too; chiefly, in Dana Andrews’ Laura-esque performance, right down to the
fedora and trench he sports, breeding familiarity to offset the dangers that
lurk behind virtually every turn in his investigation.
A short while
later, the Joanna winds up at Holden’s hotel suite. She initially sees this
reunion as a meeting of the minds, even bringing along her father’s journal to
recite a few of his cryptic notations about Karswell. But Holden would much
rather get to know Joanna socially – biblically even. Only, he goes about it
the wrong way; inadvertently insulting her intelligence by dismissing her
father’s diary as pure bunk and trouncing Joanna’s curiosity as grossly
unwarranted silliness. Nevertheless, Holden really cannot explain away what he
has been feeling since his accidental encounter with Karswell at the British
Museum; dizzy spells and a strange ‘insect-like’ screech (the actual noise the
demon makes before materializing) rattling inside his head. To appease Joanna –
and perhaps, to get to the bottom of things – Holden has her drive him out to
Lufford Hall; intruding on an afternoon’s delights – Karswell in full-clown
makeup, entertaining a group of local children with a bit of ‘innocent’ magic.
Holden and Joanna separate, Karswell proposing his mother might take her inside
for some ice cream while he and Holden go for a stroll about the grounds.
Holden questions Karswell about his ‘interest’ in the ‘black arts’; Karswell
making no apology for dabbling in both the ‘black’ and ‘white’ arts of
witchcraft. Holden is rather flippant in his rejection of ‘magic’ as anything
except a grand hoax, illusions and slights of hand. To illustrate their
validity for Holden, Karswell conjures a violent thunderstorm, forcing everyone
into the house.
The mood between
Karswell and Holden turns adversarial after Karswell informs Holden he has a
mere three days left to live. In the U.K. version, this scene segues to a brief
exchange between Karswell and Joanna, whom he instructs to go home and prepare
for Holden’s demise. But in the U.S. version, the plot merely leaps ahead - to
later this same evening – Joanna, begging Holden to take his fate or, at least,
the one designed for him by Karswell - more serious. Holden refuses to buy into
this hysteria. However, when he discovers parallels between Henry Harrington’s
death (pages torn from both their day planners, a sinister parchment slipped
into his briefcase by Karswell with ancient symbols scrawled upon it) Holden
becomes a tad more suspicious – even, insecure. Even so, when the parchment
jerks from Holden’s hand and attempts to leap into a nearby fireplace
(prevented only by its decorative grate), Joanna is convinced some ethereal
darker force is at work. Holden blames the parchment’s ‘escape’ on the wind.
Nevertheless, upon returning to his suite at the Savoy, Holden once again hears
the demon’s insect-like call coming from the end of the hallway; interrupted by
Kumar and O’Brien, who welcome Holden into their suite to discuss the pending
examination of one Rand Hobart (Brian Wilde); a ‘nonbeliever’ too who has since
slipped into a state of catatonia.
In the U.K.
version this moment is followed by Holden driving out to a remote hovel on the
windswept moors to broker favor with the rest of the Hobart clan and examine
Rand. Mrs. Hobart (Janet Barrow) reluctantly gives her consent, but not before
Holden’s parchment tries another flight – this time, from his wallet. The
Hobarts are easily spooked and Mrs. Hobart declares Holden has been ‘chosen’.
His fate is sealed. Holden next makes his pilgrimage to Stonehenge, discovering
the same Runic symbols from his parchment chiseled into one of its mysterious
stone pylons. Returning home hours later, Holden receives a rather puzzling note
from Joanna to meet him at the house of Mr. Meeks (Reginald Beckwith). It turns
out the pair have been summoned there by Mrs. Karswell who, ever-fearful of her
son’s influence, is endeavoring to intervene on Holden’s behalf to spare his
life. Together with Mrs. Meeks (Rosamund Greenwood), Holden, Joanna and Mrs.
Karswell engage in a séance; the spirit of Henry Harrington forewarning Holden
of imminent doom, using Mr. Meeks as his medium.
Given Holden’s
scholastic interest, he is all but arrogant and quite dismissive of Meeks’
abilities to contact the dead, laughing it off as a lot of fakery put on for
their amusement. As Joanna and Holden depart, Mrs. Karswell is taken into
Julien’s custody. Joanna thinks Holden terribly foolish. To prove his point,
Holden agrees to drive out in the dead of night to Lufford Hall, break in and
search for the rare manuscript on witchcraft and demons stolen from the British
Museum and now in Karswell’s possession.
Leaving Joanna at the gates, Holden skulks through the woods. He
discovers an open window on the second floor, climbing up a rickety trellis;
then, slinking downstairs into Karswell’s study to begin his investigation.
Unbeknownst to Holden, Karswell is following his every move. Karswell stops
just short of entering his study, instead using his occultist powers to conjure
a leopard from the common housecat to attack Holden in the library. This is a
rather ridiculous moment in the movie; one reminiscent (and far more apropos to
Cat People, Tourneur’s ghoulish
horror/suspense masterpiece from 1942).
The leopard
assault is cut short herein by Karswell, who bursts into the room and turns on
the lights; the panther instantly transformed back into his unobtrusive black
house kitty. Given the severity of the conflict, Holden shows no outward signs
from the attack – not even a few well-placed scratches. Karswell orders Holden
from his house; Mrs. Karswell, begging her son to call off whatever mystical
mischief he has invoked. But as Holden makes his way back to Joanna’s car the
all-too familiar sound of the demon grows strong; a puff of smoke manifesting
into the very same winged gargoyle that claimed Harrington’s life. Holden flees
this apparition, and manages an extremely awkward retreat. The next afternoon,
under medical supervision at an insane asylum, Hobart is brought out of his
catatonic state with an injection of sodium pentothal. Under hypnosis, he
reveals how Karswell’s parchment is the key to the curse. Whoever possesses it
must die. It’s all rather riveting as pure melodrama, except Hobart suddenly
and quite unexpectedly begins to rave of persecution, leaping off the
examination table and falling to his death through an open upstairs’ window. In the meantime, Karswell kidnaps Joanna,
intent on fleeing London by train. Holden pursues Karswell, slipping him the
same parchment Karswell gave him at the British Museum. Realizing what Holden
has done, Karswell goes to perform the exchange once more. But the parchment
escapes his grasp, flying down the railroad tracks. As Holden and Joanna look
on, Karswell races toward an oncoming train; their observation of him
momentarily obstructed. The parchment bursts into flames. The demon manifests
itself in Karswell’s presence and tears him apart. After the train has passed,
Holden and the station master (Leonard Sharp) find Karswell’s smoldering remains
scattered near the tracks; Holden shielding, Joanna from this gruesome
discovery, adding “Perhaps it is best not
to know.”
Night/Curse of the Demon is
unquestionably a very bizarre movie. Valiant struggles have been made to treat the
subject matter with both seriousness and integrity. But on the whole, the story
devolves into just another spook story about one man’s mangling of the
unexplained. In either its U.K. or U.S. incarnation, the plot never entirely
gels for more than a few intermittent moments of suspense at a time, between
fitful bouts of melodramatic tedium. Where the story is supposed to mesmerize,
it merely amuses, and when it aims to unhinge, it barely manages a mild ruffle
of our collective curiosity. There is a lot of style here, but precious little
substance. Style, however, goes a very long way to deaden the picture’s gaping
inadequacies. Dana Andrews and Peggy Cummins are not a terribly engaging
‘couple’; his American ease in constant conflict with Cummins’ clipped British
resolve. The best performance is Niall MacGinnis’ Karswell; queerly cordial and
yet moodily menacing. MacGinnis’ Julian Karswell is a sinister conjurer of the
black arts; a man who could just as easily smile his way into the bowels of
hell as adeptly amuse an impressionable brood of kiddies with his less satanic
slights of hand.
Arguably, the
real star of the picture is Edward Scaife’s cinematography. Night/Curse of the Demon would be
nothing at all without his chiaroscuro lighting techniques. These transform
even the benign luxuries of Lufford Hall into an eerie den of dark foreboding.
Viewing the two alternate cuts of this movie reveals how expertly fitted
Tourneur’s staging of the action is – the excisions really not affecting the
overall pace or narrative structure. Night/Curse
of the Demon is not a remarkable film. But it is an exceptionally competent
one with a few clever twists peppered in for good measure. Tourneur had not
wanted to show the audience the demon; a decision vetoed by producer, Hal E.
Chester. When effects genius, Ray Harryhausen proved unavailable, the
assignment of conjuring this satanic element was handed over to George
Blackwell. Blackwell’s incarnation is part winged gargoyle/part horn and hooved
wildebeest with some smoldering smoke effects tossed in. As Tourneur predicted, showing the demon as
bookends to the story diffuses the movie’s penultimate paranoia rather than
augmenting it. Done properly, the implied is always infinitely more successful
than the concrete. The real issue ought to have been does Karswell possess a
command of the black arts, or is he merely able to instill hysteria into the
hearts and minds of his intended victims – thus, in effect, they bring about
their own demise through his powers of suggestion. Regrettably, Night/Curse of the Demon leaves nothing
to interpretation. In his wiry goatee and dark suit, Karswell is the devil’s
emissary on earth, his power genuine; his demon, physically manifested to do
his bidding with relish. Does it work?
Partly – though without ever instilling a genuine sense of dread. Creepy in
spots, but failing to leave us shattered at our core, Night/Curse of the Demon is a mostly forgettable thriller from
Jacques Tourneur, who gave us such memorable classics as the aforementioned Cat People (1942), I Walked With A Zombie (1943) and Out of the Past (1947).
U.K. third-party
distributor, Indicator/Powerhouse gets the nod for finally making this much sought-after
cult classic available in a stunningly handsome and comprehensive ‘region free’
Blu-ray release. Nearly a decade ago, Sony Home Entertainment, the custodians
of this deep catalog title, made it available to Wild Side Home Video in France
– again, region free. Then, it was a
very handsome package, with both versions of the movie included, plus a PAL
only DVD and a very thick booklet, offering extremely comprehensive critical
analyses – albeit, in French. In comparing those transfers to the one’s offered
herein, it appears as though Indicator/Powerhouse have been given these same
1080p elements. Since there was really nothing wrong with them to begin with,
what’s here looks very fine indeed. Both versions of Night/Curse of the Demon have undergone a considerable restoration
effort. Yet, ‘Curse’ is noticeably sharper, sporting a more refined grain
structure than its U.K. counterpart. Also, the U.K. version is framed in
1.75:1, the U.S in 1.66:1. Both renderings have good solid contrast. But the
U.S. version (shorter) looks superior by virtue of its vast amount of fine
detail popping as it should in 1080p. Furthermore, ‘Night’s’ DTS audio seems
ever so slightly muffled when compared to the U.S. cut of the film. They are
both very watchable. But discrepancies in the visuals and audio do exist and
bear mentioning herein.
Now, here is
where the Indicator/Powerhouse release beats the pants off its predecessor. In
the extras. Disc 1 gives us both the original full-length pre-release and US
reissue – each totaling approximately 96 min. Both cuts are derived from a 2K
BFI restoration with slight discrepancies in framing and the original 1.0 DTS
mono audio intact. ‘Night’s cut also includes an audio commentary from noted historian,
Tony Earnshaw. Disc 2 features ‘Night’ in its original UK cut, and ‘Curse’
in its original US cut (each, approximately 82 min.). Both are framed in
1.66:1. Again, we have the original DTS mono. Now, for the goodies: first, Speak
of the Devil: The Making of 'Night of the Demon' (2007), nearly 20 mins
with Peggy Cummins and production designer, Ken Adam. New to Blu is Cloven
in Two (23 mins) a video essay produced exclusively for this release
that explores the different cuts and reason behind the changes. Also, new is The
Devil in the Details, a 36 min. chat with author/historian Christopher
Frayling who discusses both the movie and Ken Adams contributions to it. But
wait, there is more. Horrors Unseen is also newly
produced and features author/historian Chris Fujiwara offering yet another half
hour of fresh insight, and ‘Sinister Signs’ – Kim Newman
providing even more critique, and Ramsey Campbell, sharing his personal
appreciations ‘Under the Spell’.
There’s also
Scott MacQueen, who details the history in The Devil Gets His Due – again,
running nearly a half hour, and then MacQueen again in A Note of Fear, detailing
the film’s score. David Huckvale also pays homage to Clifton Parker’s moody
score in The Devil in Music. Finally, Roger Clarke weighs in with The
Truth of Alchemy – 22 min. of potent discussion on the author, M.R.
James. All of these newly produced extras would already be impressive enough,
except that Indicator/Powerhouse have chocked this disc with vintage goodies
that cannot be topped, including Casting the Runes (1984), an
audio-only program of Michael Hordern reading M.R. James’ novel (53 min.) and a
radio dramatization of the novel recorded in 1947. We get audio-only of Hal E
Chester, waxing affectionately about his participation on the movie during
1996’s Manchester Festival of Fantastic Films. This interview runs nearly an
hour and is extremely informative! There’s also another audio-only with Dana
Andrews, running a scant 10 min. from 1972. Last but certainly not least, we
get an isolated music and effects track, an original theatrical trailer, an
image gallery, and, a limited edition 80-page booklet, with new essays from Kat
Ellinger on M.R. James career. Bottom line: for anyone who is an absolute
die-hard fan of Night/Curse of the Demon, this one is truly a no-brainer.
Indicator/Powerhouse has afforded this cult classic all the bells and whistles
on could ask for, and beyond. Very highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
5++
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