Incubus: Mörderische Träume

John Cassavetes stars as a surgeon in a small Wisconsin town where a series of bizarre rapes-turned-murders are occurring left and right against the area's female residents. Thrown into the mix is his teenager daughter whose boyfriend claims to be witnessing the crimes as they are occurring within nightmares he experiences.

As far as I'm concerned, John Hough is one of horror's unsung heroes when it comes to mood and atmosphere- if "The Legend of Hell House" or the marginal Disney thriller "The Watcher in the Woods" aren't enough proof of that, "The Incubus" is. This dreary thriller is considerably more violent than Hough's other horror pictures, but has his signature stylistics that I absolutely love.

Like in most of all Hough's work, the cinematography is slick and thoughtful, making goosebumps-inducing use of POV shots. In the film, the camera follows the victims almost like a predator before launching its vicious assault, and each attack is just as effective as the next. There is also a strong gothic feel underpinning the events, and the photography accentuates the haunting landscapes (actually Ontario, serving as a midwest stand-in). The film's musty and discomforting atmosphere is underlined by an unnerving string score, another signature element of Hough's films. A somewhat withered Cassavetes is still at the top of his game here, with John Ireland supporting as the miffed sheriff and Kerri Keane as a nosy local reporter.

The film's bucolic setting is recurrently upended by instances of explicit sexual violence, and it features some of the most disturbing and visceral assault scenes I've ever seen in a horror film (the library sequence near the beginning especially stands out). Despite the picturesque pastoral setting, a sense of decay can be felt bubbling beneath the surface. The script's medley of violence and female sexuality under attack is effectively grotesque, and even more bizarre are the incestuous undertones and gender-bending revelation at the film's twisted conclusion. While the finale is irrefutably shocking (and the monster makeup surprisingly scary, even by today's standards), I can say that the narrative build-up could have been a tad better handled as it all does seem to come crashing down rather awkwardly; a bit more finesse in script and editing could have remedied this, but the film still works in spite of it.

Overall, I found "The Incubus" to be a formidable and disturbing film. Hough's handling of the bucolic locales is wonderful, and the effective, moody cinematography really establishes a menacing and inauspicious feel. The film's one major flaw is the hackneyed pacing in its last act, but I personally found this a forgivable sin given how strong the rest of it is. It is definitely one of the more aggressive horror films of its era in terms of themes, but the quaint and gothic feel hearkens back to a more classical and almost British sensibility. A fantastic thriller best suited for viewing on a chilly autumn night with all the lights off. 8/10.

I saw this movie about three years ago on a defective rental tape, and I must say that I was shocked. I was shocked at how a film dealing with supernatural rape and mutilation can be so...conventional! Yes, you read it right. When the screen isn't gushing blood at regular intervals, the movie is actually a run-of-the-mill slasher-mystery, with stilted dialogue and unimaginative presentation (though the movie-theater sequence shows some flair). And talk about your surprise endings!

The acting is bland; even John Cassavetes (who I guess had some bills to pay that month) seems preoccupied. In fact, despite the aforementioned brutality, the production seems altogether too restrained. It's as if, despite the lurid subject matter, the filmmakers didn't want to make an exploitation picture--even though they can't make the material work on any other level. As a result, the more sensationalistic elements are balanced out by indifferent "human drama" involving a bunch of not-very-interesting characters. The occasional stabs at depth ("I don't WANT tenderness!") range from just plain ineffective to full-out laughable. But the final product (which cost more than you might think) isn't laughable, but merely mediocre. It did have potential, but instead it just sort of...is.

There are many worse horror movies out there! Thank God most of them don't get saddled with John Cassavettes in the cast. This film suffers from his underwhelming acting. From his expression alone you are never sure if he is appalled by the bizarre violence that continues throughout the film or is just amused by it. The story itself is not a bad one but a better director could not have hurt.

I have to admit I was drawn back to this film after years of searching because the Library/Museum in the story, with it's Gothic look that might have come straight out of Lovecraft has always stuck in my mind. And there is enough true mystery involved to make you keep wondering who the culprit really is up to the final; moment. I wouldn't eat a lot of greasy popcorn while watching this one.

Seriously, I can easily stomach a lot of on screen blood, gore and repulsiveness, but what really makes this film disturbing & uncomfortable to watch is how the doctor character keeps on rambling about the physical damage done to raped women. He, John Cassavetes of "Rosemary's Baby", talks about ruptured uterus, dry intercourse and massive loads of reddish (?) sperm like they are the most common little ailments in the world of medicine. That being said, "Incubus" is an ultimately STRANGE horror effort. It isn't necessarily awful – although it isn't very good, neither – but just plain weird. The muddled & incoherent script initially revolves on the hunt for a rapist-killer of flesh and blood (even though the title clearly suggests the involvement of a supernatural creature) and it never seems to stop introducing new characters. None of these characters, especially not the main ones, come across as sympathetic and for some never-explained reason they all seem to keep dark secrets. The aforementioned doctor has an odd interpretation of daughter-love and continuously behaves like he's a suspect himself, the town's sheriff (John Ireland) appears to be in a constant state of drunkenness and doesn't even seem to care about who keeps raping & killing the women in his district, the female reporter is even too weird for words and the Galens (an old witch and her grandson) are just plain spooky. All together they desperately try to solve the mystery of whom or what exactly is destroying the towns' women reproducing organs. The sequences building up towards the rapes & murders are admirably atmospheric and the vile acts themselves are bloody and unsettling. Basically these are very positive factors in a horror film, but the narrative structure is too incoherent and the characters are too unsympathetic for "Incubus" to be a really good film. Also, there are quite a few tedious parts to struggle yourself through (like footage of a Bruce Dickinson concert!) and the usually very reliable John Hough's direction is nearly unnoticeable. The final shot is effectively nightmarish, though. For me personally, "Incubus" was a bit of a disappointment, but there are still several enough reasons to recommend this odd piece of early 80's horror to open-minded genre fanatics.

John Hough's horror films are a mixed bunch, but this one is far more interesting than its horrendous critical reception would suggest. It is ostensibly a detective story of a small town policeman (John Cassavetes) investigating a series of unusually vicious rape homicides. Hough uses the structure to raise some provocative questions about penetration as violation. Sex and violence as one, forged and bonded in repression, resentment, sadism and envy.

The film is riddled with hints of the incestuous desire the protagonist has for his daughter. Hough thus plays with audience identification, seeking to implicate the viewer in a repulsive sexuality which, in a graphic morgue-table scene of a naked female cadaver, extends to incorporate necrophilia. The otherwise conventional plot is spiced up by a contemplation of p.o.v. as moderating aberrant sexuality. No wonder that critics and audiences found the film overly offensive and distasteful. Undeterred, Hough would treat similar themes in his equally maligned "American Gothic".

Graphic, contemplative and unrelenting in its bleakly oppressive visual style, this is a disturbing film experience: one of the more confrontational of taboo-breakers dealing with the always problematic theme of sexual homicide.

Intriguingly enough, the film has some elements in common with Wes Craven's "Deadly Blessing" released around the same time, and dealing with sex crime, isolated communities, deceptive innocence, female independence and role expectations, and the other-worldly demon, the Incubus.