To the Devil... a Daughter

U.K. - Germany / 1976 Directed by Peter Sykes Starring Richard Widmark Christopher Lee Nastassia Kinski Color / 93 Minutes / R Format: DVD (R1 - NTSC) Anchor Bay Entertainment

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(This disc went OOP in 2007)

		Review by Brian Lindsey

4     9   10 = Highest Rating

In 1968 Britain's Hammer Films produced The Devil Rides Out, a fairly faithful adaptation of the novel by Dennis Wheatley. Actor Christopher Lee, a friend of Wheatley's, was instrumental in shepherding the project to fruition. Wheatley was pleased with the result and thus keen to see Hammer bring more of his works to the big screen. Though The Lost Continent also appeared in '68, that movie was a pulp fantasy-adventure in the Edgar Rice Burroughs mold (and not really all that good in this reviewer's opinion); it wasn't until 1976, spurred by the popularity of such supernatural chillers as The Exorcist, that Hammer would attempt to film another one of Wheatley's tales of the occult, To the Devil... a Daughter. But much had changed on the cinematic landscape in the interval — horror film audiences now expected more daring, blood-drenched fare than had been the norm only a few short years earlier. Consequently, Hammer (backed by mostly foreign investment money) felt it necessary to inject a stronger dose of sexuality and violence into the story. Wheatley, something of a right wing Christian, was reportedly appalled.     As in The Devil Rides Out, the plot of Daughter centers around the battle of wits between two antagonists: one a scholar of the occult (on the side of Good), the other the evil leader of a Satanic cult. Lee reverses his heroic de Richleau character this time out, portraying the heretical, excommunicated clergyman, Father Michael Rayner. An acolyte and high priest of the demon Astaroth, Rayner plans to unleash an 'avatar' of his hell-spawned god on earth through the vessel of a young girl's body. Catherine (the teenage Nastassia Kinski) has been raised from birth within the cult for this very purpose. On her 18th birthday — All Hallow's Eve — she will be 're-baptized' in blood in order to 'become' Astaroth on our physical plane. But shortly before this is to happen Catherine's father, Henry Beddows (Denholm Elliot), breaks with Rayner's cult in an attempt to save her. For help he contacts occult expert John Verney (former A-List Hollywood star Richard Widmark), an American writer living in London. Hoping for a sensational topic for his next book, Verney agrees to shelter Catherine in his apartment as he pursues more information on the cult she's entangled with. In the meantime Beddows goes into hiding, his mental state precarious; Rayner sends an assassin to kill him. Verney is drawn deeper into the cult's conspiracy. Then his well-meaning friends (Goldfinger's Honor Blackman, as Verney's aging-but-still-hot-to-trot socialite agent, and Anthony Valentine, as her younger boyfriend) are horribly killed. Catherine has disappeared. Verney resolves to destroy Rayner and rescue the girl's soul... if there's still time.     To the Devil... a Daughter has all the ingredients for what should be a top-drawer example of '70s Satanic cinema. Helmer Peter Sykes (Demons of the Mind) certainly establishes atmosphere well; a much more mobile camera than was customary for other Hammer directors helps him achieve this. He also had a substantially bigger budget than was usually the case. (Mostly German funding, which was why Kinski was cast.) Lee is excellent as Rayner, somewhat restraining his normally commanding theatrical style to good effect. His villain here is a rather soft-spoken one, whose benign smiles and often friendly countenance belie a cold, black heart totally dedicated to evil. The rest of the supporting cast is solid, particularly the always-reliable Elliot; even the then-16-year old Kinski fares well. (I'm still at a loss how an underage girl could do a full frontal nude scene and Hammer not get smacked hard by morals groups — perhaps the age of consent is lower in Germany, where the scene was shot.) Widmark isn't terrible or anything but as the hero he's the weak link in the cast. The actor was angry and unhappy for most of the shoot (as related in the documentary included on the disc; see below), obviously signing to do the film just to pick up a quick paycheck. He's something of a fish out of water at times. It doesn't help matters that the script tells us virtually nothing about Verney at all, beyond that he's a scholar of the occult with a series of published works to his credit. However, the dialog given Widmark is much less authoritative than that of the demon-busting de Richleau in The Devil Rides Out; for an expert on the supernatural he seems just as surprised and bewildered by events as his ill-fated friends. (Who basically get killed simply because they happen to know him.)     The script has other weaknesses as well — it's the writing that nearly torpedoes the whole enterprise. It's not until about 30 minutes in that the plot starts to make any real sense, as the disjointed story threads begin to come together. (Beddows' flashbacks help a great deal.) Even so, the exact purpose Catherine serves in Rayner's ultimate ritual is never made clear, nor is the occasional appearance of a hideous, blood-slimed demon baby, a bright red puppet that manages to be both creepy and ridiculous at the same time. (It's supposed to be a part of Catherine somehow, as if the two were psychically linked; the girl sees the creature in a mirror when looking at her own reflection.) The ending of the film is totally botched — let's just say "anticlimactic" isn't an expressive enough term. Interestingly, the making-of documentary goes into detail about how this came about. The reason's pretty dumb when you think about it, as the original ending as planned would've significantly strengthened the picture. I suspect some accountant decided not to cough up the money for one simple special effect. Too bad.

Once again Anchor Bay generally maintains its usual high standards with this, reputedly the last entry in the company's venerable Hammer Collection of DVDs. This is a slight issue with the audio, however.     The transfer is exceptionally clean. Presented in anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen format, Daughter looks remarkably good. As regards to the audio track, an unusual anomaly occurs for the first half of the film: while dialog is clear and resonant throughout, sound effects are strangely muffled. This is particularly noticeable when car doors are slammed, guns are fired, etc. It's not too terribly distracting, but it might pull you out of the story now and again. (The problem clears up about midway through the picture.)     There's no audio commentary here, as was the custom with the last batch of AB Hammer discs. Instead we get a 24-minute documentary, To The Devil... The Death of Hammer, which is just as well. It's a terrific piece on the making of the film and its place in Hammer history as the last horror film the famous studio would produce. Interspersed with cleverly edited clips from the film are interview segments with stars Christopher Lee, Honor Blackman, and Anthony Valentine, director Sykes, producer Roy Skeggs, and writers Christopher Wicking and Gerald Vaughn-Hughes. Plenty of interesting (and even amusing) anecdotes here, particularly regarding Richard Widmark, who by all acounts was a real asshole to work with (at least on this shoot) — the Ugly American indeed.     Topping off the extras are the original theatrical trailer (trying hard to sell this to the Exorcist-loving crowd), a photo gallery of promotional stills and ad graphics, along with well-written talent bios of Lee and Widmark. There's an Easter Egg hidden on the Extras Menu — highlight and click on the star symbol to the lower left. A videoclip from a 1988 horror convention in Britain will then play, in which stuntman Eddie Powell (now deceased) tells a very funny story about he came to be Christopher Lee's 'butt double' in the film. 10/15/02

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