Fright Night (1985)

Director: Tom Holland (no, not that Tom Holland)

Cast: Chris Sarandon, William Ragsdale, Amanda Bearse, Stephen Geoffreys, Roddy McDowell

Have I Seen it Before: No.

Did I Like It: I feel like I might have missed that window.

It can be difficult to watch a bona fide classic for the first time. You feel like you need to see what everyone else saw, and because you are too much in your own head and wrapped up in expectations, the film may not measure up.

A similar phenomenon can be observed when one watches a more modern classic. If you didn’t witness a movie while you were still in your formative years, there may not be much there for you in the harsh light of adulthood. Such thoughts make me wonder what my reaction might be to films I love like Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990) or even Back to the Future (1985) if I had watched them now instead of in my childhood.

So, too is it with Fright Night. I missed what might have been charming about this film by a couple of years. It is a movie that is less than two hours long, but feels interminable. I had to watch it in two different sittings, and I wasn’t exactly leaping at the opportunity to finish the work when the opportunity came around. 

If it is to be accepted as a pure horror movie, it is strangely bereft of dread, terror, or even moments that startle. If it is to be taken as a comedy, it’s not funny in any measurable way. If it is supposed to be a coming-of-age story, then any character needed to engage in some kind of change or growth, but alas, aside from the death of a few day-players and the two heavies, everyone in the film is much as we found them.

Even the plot—such as it is—falls apart under the slightest scrutiny, and such analysis is the only pleasure I found during the course of the movie. The conceit or pitch of the film is that a fan of horror movies finds that a vampire has moved in. Only Charlie Brewster (Ragsdale) is such an inept entity, that he immediately has to get a gross tonne of exposition regarding basic Vampire precautions from Evil Ed (Geoffreys). Had he been a true horror fan, or really been alive in any way, then the cross and the garlic thing should have been already known by both Brewster and—to nullify any arguments that such a clunky move was necessary—the audience.

I want to join the people who like this movie, but sadly can not. Or will not. Not all fondly remembered 80s movies are created equal.

The Legend of Hell House (1973)

Director: John Hough

Cast: Pamela Franklin, Roddy McDowall, Clive Revill, Gayle Hunnicutt, Michael Gough (uncredited)

Have I Seen it Before: Never. Never even knew it existed until a few weeks ago.

Did I Like It: Yes, but I’m beginning to have certain reactions to the genre which may hamper my overall enthusiasm.

To facilitate the discussion on “Beyond The Cabin in The Woods,” a podcast on which I’ve been serving on the panel, I have watched four “haunted house” movies in the last two months. This may match my lifetime average, as I have only sparse memories of other entries in the genre, aside from the lackluster Winchester (2018) which I had watched for the same reason.

Of those four (Thir13en Ghosts (2001), The Haunting (1963), and House on Haunted Hill (1959)), The Legend of Hell House stands above the rest. The problem with too many haunted house movies is that there is an implicit rule that dictates nothing happens for a certain period of time, to introduce some measure of doubt as to whether ghosts can exist at all. In The Haunting, that null period takes place over the entire course of the picture. It never fully commits to a position about the existence of ghosts, and thus, the film is a woeful bore. 

In The Legend of Hell House, this doubt is dispensed with quite rapidly. Yes, Dr. Barrett (Clive Revill) is brought into these series of events to bring proof of life after death, but both this quest and the doubt about the supernatural are dropped within minutes. There’s something wrong with this house from the get-go, and the film wastes no time having good, clean, masochistic fun with the possibilities.

Certainly, the film can’t help but live within its more pulpy roots. Any film with Roddy McDowall isn’t particularly interested in elevating the material, but as far as haunted house movies go, I’d recommend starting here.