Three Films Make A Post: An All-New Chiller for Halloween!

La Influencia aka The Influence (2019): As you know, only Spanish filmmakers have the good taste to try and adapt Ramsey Campbell. Alas, Denis Rovira van Boekholt’s adaptation of a very fine novel isn’t as strong as it could be. The director is certainly great with the more technical aspects of creating a creepy mood and uses that bane of contemporary horror, the jump scare, sparingly, but he tends to overplay his hand increasingly the longer the film goes on, betting on the creepy and loud image where a calmer and softer touch would work much better, often ignoring perfectly obvious avenues for the kind of psychological horror asked for here and instead going for shouting “HORROR!” into the audience’s faces. The script has some curious weaknesses too, becoming unspecific in the most inopportune moments, and having some trouble organizing certain plot threads (watch who knows what and when about a certain medallion, for example). And while there is strong, horrific imagery in the film, van Boekholt isn’t quite the stylist yet to pull through on this alone.

The Monkey’s Paw (1948): Before I randomly stumbled upon this adaptation of W.W. Jacobs’s classic story directed by Norman Lee and “associate directed” by Barbara Toy, who also co-wrote (and would go on to become a Land Rover based exploration writer), I didn’t know it existed. Not that I missed much: this is a typical case of a film that takes a small, short gem of a story and tries to bring it up to film length (in this case only an hour, but still) by adding lots of uninteresting business that distracts from the core of the tale and more background material that’s no use either, as well as by making changes to the source material that lessen it. Only in a couple of scenes do the directors find a moment or two between thrilling in the rambling of an elderly Irish rogue and listening to drawn out scenes of people repeating things we already know when things become somewhat creepy – the final sequence is moody, if still worse than the one in the story.

Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981): And because this is clearly, Three Halloween-Ready Films Seen By A Grump, why not end on me being down on what for many a person with good taste and style is one of the great TV horror movies? And it’s not that I don’t see the craftsmanship in Frank De Felitta’s direction and J.D. Feigelson’s script, or can’t abstractly admire how much atmosphere they get out of little.


It’s just never been a film that grabbed me, and my recent re-watch didn’t change that fact. I think my main problem with the film is that I’m not that fond of the part of the horror genre that’s all about horrible people getting their comeuppance. That approach to horror just has too much of the old testament and fire and brimstone preachers to ever make me really happy. Not that Dark Night is all fire and brimstone, mind you, it’s really a focussed and calm film, all considered. It’s just not for me.

In short: Bulldog Drummond At Bay (1937)

This version of Captain Hugh "Bulldog" Drummond (John Lodge) lives an especially quiet life in the country. His butler has been replaced by a housekeeper and a dog (it's the dog's turn to be stuffed into a cupboard by the bad guys), and no fiancé he can avoid to marry is around.

Of course, this being Drummond, his peace is disturbed soon enough, though not by the usual damsel in distress but by evildoers looking for inventor Caldwell (Richard Bird) whose experimental airplane technology they want to sell off to the highest bidder. Before you can say "Jolly good, old chap", Drummond insinuates himself into the affair, tussles with a female henchman (Dorothy Mackaill) who might have plans of her own, and learns that his enemies work under the guise of an organisation working for world peace. Clearly, a wish for peace can only hide madmen and blackguards, and just as clearly, Drummond will put a stop to their plans.

Yes, I'm still making my way through the Bulldog Drummond films. This'll be the last one for a while, though, or I'd have to rename this blog into "The Bulldog!?", which nobody wants. And yes, this is another Drummond film made in 1937 - though this time in the UK - with again a different actor playing Drummond, and again a title that has nothing at all to do with the film I was watching.

John Lodge is the least interesting Drummond I've encountered until now, for his version of the character completely lacks in the intensity, the romantic enthusiasm and the sense of humour film versions of the character usually have. As Lodge plays the character, he could be just about any British upperclass guy punching foreigners (this time with a certain indirect whiff of being Russian Jews that doesn't outright state their national and religious affiliations but does imply it, which of course is still much less unpleasant than the state of affairs in the actual books) in the face. The script could have renamed Drummond to John Smith and nobody would have been the wiser, really. Even Algy (Claud Allister) is only in the movie for a few short scenes. Not that I can honestly say I'm sad about that.

The film's best moments are whenever Lodge shares the screen with Mackaill. While the chemistry between the actors is not exactly intense, and Lodge does not exactly breathe excitement, the romantic quipping is more fun than the rest of the film's dialogue, and Mackaill seems a lot more lively than Lodge himself.

Consequently, there are ten minutes or so right at the end when her character becomes the film's hero for a while that turn what was an okay matinee piece before into something more fun. I suspect "Doris Thompson at Bay" would have been the more exciting movie. Of course, we can't have a mere woman winning the day (think of the cooties!), so Drummond takes the heroic role over again soon enough, dragging her off to end her adventurous job and marry him. Sometimes, one has to hate movies for being of their time.

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