wkduffy

The movie revolves around two sisters: One is a photographer who is married to an architect and lives a relatively normal life, and the other is a houseplant-obsessed, socially awkward isolationist who lives below her sister in a Soho loft and runs a slipshod plant shop. The weird one (well acted, by the way, as are all the parts) dies within the first 20 minutes of the film, and the rest of the movie revolves around her grieving sister trying to figure out how she died--accidentally or not? And if not, who did it?

Although the production year on this flick is 1979, the film feels as though it was made 10 years earlier and is a quintessential product of that occult-obsessed era. As such, the alternative sleuthing tactics used by the sister-cum-detective involves colorful Kirlian photography of auras (the auras of both plants and people) to determine who has ill intent and who knows what. The twist? Her architect-husband might be the murderer (or not) AND one special plant may have seen everything happen! What is that plant trying to say?!!

The feel of the film is serious and decidedly (and purposefully) muted -- the tone, the acting, the music, the photography. You might call it slow, but someone with the right sensibilities might instead call it "creepy." Indeed, the film strikes many of the same chords as horror films of the time period--we're talking about that atmosphere of hopeless Gothic dread and awful, depressing inevitability that drenches cult horror flicks like "Let's Scare Jessica to Death," "The Pyx," or "The Haunting of Julia" (largely created by the music and sometimes-abstract camera angles here in this film). But unfortunately these emotive moments are far and few between. Most importantly, it should be noted that this really is NOT a horror film at all. Although it has some occult overtones and that atmospheric feeling of dread, the story is a who-done-it mystery.

For someone who can plug into the film from this "atmospheric 1970s horror movie" angle (even though, as mentioned, you'd be hard pressed to call this a horror yarn!), "The Kirlian Witness" might be considered a rare gem--not a stellar flick, but a minor gem nonetheless. I got my copy on Amazon (in 2012), where it is currently available as an "on-demand" DVD-R with full color artwork in the DVD case and also on the disc itself. (For some reason, I half-think it is actually the director who is selling them himself, but this is pure speculation.) The transfer is workable, but as the fuzzy print testifies, this has in no way been remastered. In fact, I'd actually love to see a very clean copy of the film, but considering its relative obscurity, I seriously doubt that will ever happen.

After two strange attempts to buy "The Shuttered Room/It" WB horror two-fer flick on DVD from Amazon sellers and neither of them ever making it to my mailbox over a two-month span (is Oliver Reed intercepting my packages?), I finally found an Amazon seller up to the job of actually getting this thing into my DVD player.

Anyway, the digital transfer of "The Shuttered Room," as stated by others, is not so bad--some artifacts here and there (so the film for all intents and purposes was not cleaned up), but the flick is anamorphic and fills a widescreen, which is nice. For those who have not seen it (or not seen it recently), the film is very deliberately and carefully made--that means the technical specs are up to snuff for a film shot in the late 60s anyway. The focus is clear and crisp, the colors are sharp and vivid. The settings are very pretty--even with all the "horror" lurking about.

Two random thoughts: 1. For some reason, I remember the chained-up individual (keeping it vague here) as being horribly disfigured. But nope--it's just a regular person having a bad hair day. That was a bit disappointing--guess my memories of this horror are a bit blurry.

2. Last, and most interesting: This film looks much, much closer to an early 1970s horror film than one released in 1966 to me; it always has. The film techniques, use of hand-held perspective shots, extreme close-ups, the very progressive soundtrack, Lynley's "heroine" who is both sad and brooding but not entirely a weakling, and the lyrical, dreamlike extended credits/introduction--all of it adds up to a film that seems, in hindsight, to be ahead of its time. In some ways, the "dreadful feel" of the film, the style of it, the haunting quality of it, seems to predict so many 70s horror films that were yet to come--Zohra Lampert's sympathetic heroine in "Let's Scare Jessica to Death," or maybe the strange isolationist townsfolk in "The Brotherhood of Satan." While comparisons can be misleading, I'll just say this feels like a film DECIDEDLY NOT looking backwards toward the old days of Gothic Hammer horror (although "The Shuttered Room" has its Gothic moments); instead, it tries very hard to be...contemporary, looking forward to the next decade, which would be 1970. And I think it works. I presume credit for that goes to director David Greene. It seems odd then that Greene, who apparently showed a lot of promise early on in his directing career, would not amount to much over time (or, so says Phil Hardy in the Overlook Film Encyclopedia). Strange.

Taste—and what it reveals about a person--is a funny thing. For example, there are flicks I simply like, regardless of what others say, regardless of critical reviews. In fact, all of us have favorites that might not hold much sway with the general public. In these films, there may be stupendously bad acting, scenery, costumes, sets, and narrative—but nevertheless there's something "ineffable" about them that jibes with our personal tastes and personal aesthetic in some inexplicable way. We just LIKE them, even though those around us say we have no taste at all. (I hear this a lot.)

So, a strange taste-related revelation occurred to me recently as I watched the UK R2 DVD release of "Madhouse" (aka "There Was A Little Girl"—a MUCH better title, by the way). As I watched, I thought to myself, "Sure the 'Crazy Deformed Twin Sister is Going to Kill Me' plot is derivative, but it is nicely composed. As I watched, I also thought the photography was carefully done, with good use of colors, and nice use of the scope format. The mood was unbearably somber and tense. The denouement was appropriate, and I jumped accordingly at a few spots. Finally, I wondered to myself, 'Who made this film?' As I turned the DVD box over to find out, I saw…

Ovidio Assonitis! And that's when I realized my tastes were somehow inextricably linked to this director/producer and his aesthetic. Just about every knockoff horror film he has made in his career, I simply love, love, LOVE! Beyond the Door (Exorcist Clone), The Visitor (an Omen Clone], Tentacoli (Jaws Clone), Who Saw Her Die?—though my friends shake their heads in disbelief, I have that same taste-related, inexplicable, unwilling gut-reaction to all these films: I like this! I like the way it is photographed. I like the pace. I like the way the plot rolls out—or the way the plot disappears entirely in some cases. I like the characterizations, the effects. I like the outrageousness of some of the scenes. The music works just right. I just like his films. Ovidio Assonitis is all-right by me! Not surprisingly, known as the "Rip-Off King," Assonitis is railed against hither and thither. Even those who are appreciative of his films feel obliged to say things like, "You know, it wasn't so bad," or "It wasn't as horrible as I thought it might be" (just look at some of the reviews right here).

But I think I just discovered that I am an unabashed Ovidio-junkie. He makes the perfectly derivative, low-budget (but nevertheless big-minded, carefully-made, professionally shot) crap I absolutely adore. On the surface, the films are nothing but a cash-in on whatever is trendy at the time. No one disputes that. But these films all saw major theatrical release because, simply put, they are extremely well-made, seriously photographed, professionally acted and scored flicks. They take what they do seriously, even though it's all been done before (and with bigger budgets). These films are great products, including "Madhouse." The UK DVD is also impressive and it shows Ovidio at his film-cloning best. As I mentioned, a great use of the scope format; nice authenticity of settings and background actors (the female protagonist who is being stalked by her deformed twin sis works in a school for the deaf, and real deaf-kid-actors are used to incredible effect in the film); nice use of colors; a nutsy ending. Hey maybe, I'll start an Ovidio Fan Club. In the meantime, though, check this out.

And, by the way, when the heck is Ovidio's apocalyptic "The Visitor" (Lance Hendricksen, John Huston, Shelly Winters) ever going to see the light of day on DVD?