Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2018
Images from the Internet
Both these films have been combined in a two-disk
Blu-ray / DVD package “Grindhouse Double Feature” by VCI Entertainment and MVD
Visual. Both were directed by Texas native S.F. Brownrigg (aka Brownie
Brownrigg), who died in 1996 at age 58. Both of these were shot with local
talent “deep in the heart of…”
Don’t Look in the Basement (aka The Forgotten)
Directed by S.F. Brownrigg
Camera 2 Productions
89
minutes, 1973 / 2018
First of
all, not fer nuthin’, what can you say that about a film (or at least title)
that inspired an early, great Ramones song, am I right?!
I actually
remember seeing this film when it came out, coincidently a few months after I
first saw the Ramones, but I digress… While I don’t recollect the story very
well, being over 40 years ago, I am surprised at how much I’m remembering of
the images as I’m watching it. The fact that it’s made that much of an
impression on me after all this time must stand for something, I guess.
Though I have
to admit I thought it was silly at the time, I have a lot more film history
under my belt and can look at it in a new perspective. And fortunately, I don’t
recall the ending, so that’s a bonus.
Rosie Holotik |
The film
takes place at Stephens Sanatorium, a private retreat for the insane, where the
cast of interesting and diverse characters include a woman who thinks her baby
doll is real and threatens anyone she deems a threat (Camilla Carr), an
African-American man who has the mind of a child (top-billed Bill McGhee; d.
2007), a judge who likes to reap his own justice in any manner he deems correct
at the wide-eyed moment (Gene Ross), a nymphomaniac (again, remember the time
period and genre) looking desperately for love (Harryette Warren), a guy who
thinks he’s in the army called Sarge (Hugh Feagin), and a man who is a brat,
acting like Dennis the Menace (Jessie Kirby). Meanwhile, the inmates truly are
running the asylum, apparently, as the staff keeps getting killed off. Though
one appropriately named Dr. Masters decides to do an Al Haig and puts herself
in charge. It’s all sketchy. On top of all this, a new nurse is schedule to
come at any moment. Oh, and this entire paragraph takes place before the
opening credits. Yep.
Annabelle Weenick looking very Miss Togar |
Looking
like she just stepped out of a period Swedish Airlines Stewardess commercial, psychiatric
nurse Charlotte Beale (statuesque Playboy
centerfold model Rosie Holotik) has arrived on the eve of two staff deaths, and
manages to talk Dr. Masters (Anne McAdams, aka Annabelle Weenick, d. 2003) into
keeping her position. Of course, there’s more going on than meets the marquee.
As I
watched the film, there was so much I remembered, even after so many years,
including the last shot, and in particular one of the gruesome deaths, which in
my memory was much more shocking than the actuality after decades of ever more
detailed and close-up mayhem. There is a key point I figured out early on,
though honestly I don’t really know if I remember the big shocker or I figured
it out, but it is effective.
Gene Ross plays a judge in both flms |
Don’t get
me wrong, this is a nicely bloody film in the Grand Guignol style of Hershell Gordon Lewis (though not that graphic). The style of the film is
very similar to a lot of the mid-1970s to early 1980s films that came back to
light with VHS, such as Mother’s Day,
Maniac, and even The Texas Chain Saw
Massacre, including the mostly bad acting (well, perhaps not bad as much as over-the-top theaaaahhhtrical emoting, often with the
eyebrows and teeth), ridiculous storyline and a conclusion that is a bit up in
the air.
But
please, let me point out, because this is important for films of this period,
that is why we like them, rather than
in spite of it. They were goofy fun¸
and easily enjoyable without working the brain muscles too hard.
Don’t Open the Door (aka Don’t Hang Up)
Directed by S.F. Brownrigg
Camera 2 Productions / Jefferson Productions
85
minutes, 1974 / 1979 / 2018
While the Don’t Go to the Basement was Grand Guignol, this film’s style is
closer aligned to the Giallo murder
films from Italy, which started to show up at US theaters around the same time
by the likes of Dario Argento. All one needs do is look at all the really
creepy dolls to get that vibe.
There is a
bit of overlap with the cast here from the former film, but that should be no
surprise for an indie release. However, in the leading role is fetching Susan
Bracken as Amanda, a woman with a strong personality who has left her doctor boyfriend,
Nick (Hugh Feagin) after a fight, to take care of her ailing grandmother. Of
course, something murderous happened in that house 13 years earlier in 1962 when
she was a little girl, and you just know it’s going to come back to – well,
haunt is the wrong word as there are no spirits,
but you get my drift.
When she comes
back, of course there are a bunch of men who want to control her decision to
put her grannie in a hospital and offer to buy her house, including a judge
(Gene Ross), a doctor (Jim Harrell, d. 2000), and Claude (Larry O’Dwyer), a curator
of old houses. Luckily, she still has enough of Nick still wrapped around her
cute finger to get him to come and sign grannie into the hospital… if she lasts
that long.
Susan Bracken |
As the
second act begins, Amanda starts receiving phone calls harassing her. Remember,
this is the period before you could see whose number was calling (barbarous!). All you see of the mystery
caller is a close-up of his mouth, or some of his face in silhouette. A half hour
in, it’s pretty obvious who is the mystery caller.
The old
“he’s calling from inside the house” cliché was pretty young at the time, and they
project that pretty fast, so I really don’t feel like I’m giving away much.
There’s also a bit of misogyny (again, the period) where the caller asks Amanda
to make “I’ll have what she’s having” noises on the phone. This is the
creepiest thing in the film for me, and made me uncomfortable. Much of the story
is kind of a comeuppance for Amanda, starting off brash and self-confinement,
and ending up, well, less so. This is also a theme that is dated, but if I can theoretically
accept the that-was-then of Katerina
putting up with Petruchio, I guess I can think of this as part of the culture at
the time (if this was released now, it would grind my gears).
Real, creepy dolls abound |
As far as
quality of film, this one is a vast improvement from the first, from the way it
is shot using shadows and angles of the house to the benefit of the actions,
the editing is pretty hot, and some of the dialogue enjoyably sounds a bit like
the banter in those Spencer Tracey/Kathrine Hepburn films, giving a subtle
sense of humor. The reason I say this is because, in part, Amanda kinda dresses
the Girl Friday part, including the
Bob ‘do and make-up.
Even with
some of the same actors, the quality of the work is better, as well. The story
is more filled out (though there are still some big holes, such as her not
getting that the caller is seeing her, considering he is describing her actions
and clothing, so to look for holes in the wall).
Sadly, the
on-screen career of Susan Bracken (daughter of B-level movie star Eddie
Bracken, whom I’ve always enjoyed watching) didn’t amount to much, this being
her second and last film, but I would have been happy to follow her career. She
does well going from one extreme emotional stance to the next.
* * *
Don't Open the Door's more artistic look |
The collection’s
commentary extra is for Don’t Look in the
Basement, hosted by film historian David Del Valle and genre filmmaker
David Decoteau. Along with interesting second hand yet knowledgeable stories
about the making of the film, they also discuss the genre of the period and the
effect of drive-ins on rural cinema culture. Normally I would not be very
interested in so many personal stories that don’t directly relate to the making
of the film, but in this case it really works because their connection to Texas
independent cinema and being able to take something very local and give it a
meaningful context. There is a bit of repetition, but overall it’s a good
conversation that doesn’t sound smug or talks down to the listener. It is
especially nice to have an explanation about the poem part relating to “little
men.”
Other
extras include the trailers for the two films, a collection of other grindhouse
coming attractions put out by VCI Entertainment (I am a trailers fan,
especially from that period, FYI), some deleted scenes from Don’t Open the Door of which about half
were rightfully taken out and the others interesting in context of the story,
and some handwritten production notes by the director.
What both
these films have in common is that on some level they both deal with some
insanity, and also its focus on what happens to a “normal” person pushed to the
extremes dealing with that intensity. While …Basement
is the more well-known of the two, I enjoyed both films; however …Hang Up was better overall for the
reasons I have been mentioning. As a combo package, it’s all the more bettah to compare.
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