Evil Baby

This modest popcorn thriller from Britain boasts a solid performance from that fine actress and world-class beauty Joan Collins as a former stripper who marries Italian money and ends up on easy street, London style – or so she thinks. Unfortunately her firstborn turns out to be possessed by the spirit of a demonic nightclub clown whose advances she spurned shortly before her marriage. Even before the child is brought home from the hospital he has already drawn blood from an attack on his mother. The baby's diabolical screams are technically enhanced with reverb and echo effects, as are those of his victims. Toward the end there is a strong dream sequence in which Collins, under the influence of a sedative, makes her way through her house with space, time and the relationship of sounds to their source imaginatively distorted. Eileen Atkins plays, of all things, an Italian nun who also happens to be the leading lady's sister-in-law. She doesn't quite get the accent and in general seems ill-suited to the role. The English actor Ralph Bates as the Italian husband is equally out of place. Donald Pleasence does better in his supporting role as the doctor who attends to the troublesome infant as does Hilary Mason, so memorable as the blind psychic in "Don't Look Now," as the no-nonsense nanny. The actual baby looks ordinary and does nothing but smile or cry as all babies do, but through editing tricks and cleverly applied sound effects we believe he is indeed evil. Shot in vivid color and with an undertone of urban sleaziness, it's scary, sometimes silly and somewhat naughty fun.

Well stone me, what a farce. I actually enjoyed this film.

It certainly is, as somebody a long time ago said, a game of three halves. The first half hour or so is laughably bad, and had me chuckling throughout. Then the tone shifts slightly and you find yourself actually getting vaguely interested into what on Earth's going on and where it could all possibly be leading. And then the last thirty minutes are genuinely disturbing, with some rather scary bits in there and a few set pieces that you won't have seen coming. All in all, rather absorbing.

The plot itself sounds like something cobbled together from "The Exorcist" and "The Omen" (despite the latter film being released the year after, but stay with me). Joan Collins (?!) plays a woman (good show) who's given birth to an "evil" child, who spends the film apparently viciously assaulting people whilst those of the religious faith find it all terribly intriguing. The scenes of the aforementioned child attacking people are usually quite laughable, usually comprising of somebody leaning close to it, recoiling in horror clutching their cheek and moaning "It bit me!", followed by a shot of a not particularly frightening little child looking frankly bewildered at the fact that he's in a film. Ah ha, but the baby has "Surprising strength for his age," we are told, so that's all right then.

The rationale for all this, given to us as a flashback about 10-15 minutes in, is one of the funniest bits of the film. Joan's character used to be a stripper, and performed her acts with a small dancing midget who apparently fancied her like mad. On her last day of work, the midget toddles along to her dressing room and tries to feel her up, whereupon she screams and a spiv wanders in and tells the midget to get lost. The midget toddles away again and Joan and the spiv (her old boyfriend, and manager of the strip club) begin to make out, Joan switching from "horror-struck and upset" to "giggly and horny" in the space of three seconds. The whole scene looks like it was shot in one take, and is played so languidly to defy belief. Later that evening, as Joan leaves the club, the midget leaps out at her from the shadows and rather improbably cries "You shall have a devil child!!!" before scampering off again.

Quite why Joan (recounting the story to a bored-witless Caroline Munro) should assume that this is the only explanation for why her child has anger-management problems I have no idea. And quite why she turns out to be right is even more startling. Soon she starts seeing the baby transform into the very same gurning midget in the blink of an eye, and most of the deaths are accompanied by such supremely seminal camera work depicting the hands of the midget (hmm, now there's a title for a Hammer... "Hands of the Midget") groping around and punching people.

And this is just the basic premise of the story, all given within the first twenty minutes. From then on it's a whirlwind of the good and the bad. For the former we have Donald Pleasence giving a superbly understated performance as the doctor whom everybody seems to be seeking advice from (he actually seems like a doctor, somebody the makers had hired out from a surgery to appear in the film rather than just an actor, and it works wonderfully). The spiv, though a complete bounder, has a few amusing lines - "Said you'd come to me so I could cheer you up. I've got another six Irish jokes since we last met." Joan Collins, despite being a bit wooden at the beginning, actually gets better as the film progresses. And I was positively delighted by a cameo from Stanley Lebor, better known as lovable Howard in "Ever Decreasing Circles" (and, hurrah, a sitcom actor who actually survives the film - that's a rarity in the 70s). And then there's Pleasence with "I thought today was going to be normal routine, I didn't think I'd be discussing mysticism with an Italian nun." And then there's the laughably bad bits, including the rather shaky ground surrounding the "Midgets are evil" thing, the most unconvincing birth scene ever, in which Joan looks more as though she's being orally pleasured than having a child, and the gratuitous stripper scenes peppered about every so often which don't serve to do anything much at all ("Am I boring you?") In fact, various scenes of steamy romance and general sauciness seem to be chucked in just to give the film a higher rating - that's the only reason I can think of for a rather touching courting scene between Joan and blank-faced husband Ralph Bates (nice accent, Ralph) being followed up by the two of them having sweaty, fumbling sex whilst the melodious seedy music that we've been subjected to throughout the entire duration reaches a new low. And eyebrows will raise when you glance at the credits and see that this entire musical travesty (it really just sounds like porn music, I'm sorry) was composed by Ron Grainer, the man who composed the "Doctor Who" theme tune. Go Ron. You do your funky thang.

But yes, to sum it all up, "The Monster" (where "I Don't Want to be Born" comes from I have no idea, as it's not the title on the print) is at times a rather lopsided affair which manages to actually remain consistently entertaining throughout, whether by accident or by design. It's probably all a matter of taste, and maybe I just ended up liking it as it was nowhere near as bad as I thought it'd be, but it's a rather fun feature that does end on a few shocks. 7/10

How can you not love Joan Collins as the new mom of a baby boy possessed by the demonic spirit of a dancing dwarf? It's laugh out loud funny! I must add it to my collection of lovable, very bad horror movies. It's like Rosemary's Baby meets The Leprechaun.

Well now, this really is a sad effort falling between the enviable status of an honest-to-god bad movie watchable for laughs and a passable horror flick. Joan Collins is an ex-stripper who is cursed by a horny dwalf (little people are in league with the devil presumably) and goes on to have a baby with her Italian husband. Now there are rare treats to be had in this film to give it its due. First of them is seeing Joan Collins performing an erotic dance at her strip club. I've never actually been to such a club and its fairly obvious to the viewer that Joan hasn't either. Her dance is so entirely unerotic and daft as to serve as a warning that what is to follow will be of the lowest possible quality. Of course no strip club is complete without a sweaty dwalf dressed as a jester or in a top hat. The dwalf in question rants about her having a baby by the devil and lo and behold she does have a freaky child. The only problem is that the baby shown is entirely normal looking. All devilish action happening off screen and then cutting back to the decidedly unmenacing kid. Rosemarys baby and The Omen both showed that kids can be quite scary. This film though decides not to give the child ungodly mental powers, or spiritual domination as its forte instead relying on it having immense physical strength. That's right, this little tyke will push you into lakes, scratch your face etc. All of this is incredibly silly to start with but cutting from Collins leaning into the crib to her with a scratch on her face doesn't exactly create fear. The means by which the baby inflicts its reign of chubby terror on the cast is daft, nonsensical and entirely unscary. Except perhaps for the workman who gets a mouse put in his cup of tea because that was about the only act of terror that the child could conceivably achieve on its own. Especially silly is the suggestion that it keeps clawing people, since its tiny fingers are shown several times and its quite clear it has normal little fingers with no claws just tiny baby fingernails. There are more treats though, especially for anyone who lives in London where it is set. The curiosity value of seeing police on the streets, working telephone boxes, parking spaces and other symbols of the past might just be enough to keep you watching. I was also fascinated by Joans non-acting friend who seems unable to utter a single line without gesturing wildly and adding "darling" to it. In the finale an exorcism is performed by the husbands sister who happens to be a penguin (nun) however she seems to have forgotten several ingredients. A book, bell, candle, feasible latin and a priest would surely have helped. Luckily this doesn't seem to be a problem, even Satan seems keen to be out of the film, and all ends well. Unfortunately you may be thinking that this is a watchable if naff horror film but I've neglected to mention the bits that will put any sane viewer off. A good portion of the film has the same loud sound effect of a baby screaming and crying through it, rendering it extremely irritating. I personally ended up with a thumping headache after forcing myself to watch it to the bitter end. Added to this every sound effect, especially telephones, make twice as much noise as they should causing you to constantly adjust the sound. To cap it all the title doesn't even make sense and has no relevance to the story presented. Unless seeing Joan Collins groped by a dwalf is high on your must-see list then this film offers nothing other than a headache and a laugh at some totally inept scripting and a nun with all the Italian authenticity of the Mario brothers.

A woman (Joan Collins) gives birth to a baby, but this is no ordinary little tyke. The child is seemingly possessed by the spirit of a freaky, sexual dwarf (George Claydon) whom the mother once spurned. From director Peter Sasdy, who made "Countess Dracula" (1971) and "Hands of the Ripper" (also 1971).

First, let me absolutely say that I love this film being retitled "Sharon's Baby". The original title, "Devil Within Her", is so much better, and the new title just sounds like a cheesy knockoff of "Rosemary's Baby"... which, of course, is a film it could never live up to. Sounds like the sort of new title that would get it played at sleazy drive-ins or theaters on 42nd Street.

The soundtrack is awesome. Not unlike Goblin's work in Italian films, it seems that the musicians here were going for the same style. The only problem is that this style of music only works in Italian films... and sounds completely silly in British or American works. I loved it, but I can imagine the average person wondering what the heck is going on.

Horror fans will love seeing Donald Pleasence, who has far too small of a role as Dr. Finch. Maybe he did not read the script, or maybe it sounded better on paper than it turned out on film, but I am glad he signed on for this.

At the time of release, Andrew Nickolds wrote that he film was "derivative and disastrous in every respect: a poor idea... an abominable screenplay by Stanley Price... ludicrous acting... and worst of all, Sasdy's direction. Almost every foot of film not concerned with the baby is travelogue at its most banal – extraneous shots of Westminster and Oxford Street, plugs for Fortnum & Mason and Holiday Inns. Completing this sorry tale of rip-off is borrowing from The Exorcist... and any number of details from Amicus, Hammer and Swinging London horrors. Give it a wide berth." Wow, Andrew, harsh!

Luckily, the film has since enjoyed its place as a cult camp favorite, because really, who besides Nickolds was taking it that seriously?