|
|
 |
|
|
|
 |
|
7
|
|
 |
|
5 |
|
10
= Highest Rating |
|
Guest
Review by Rod
Barnett |
As
strange as it may seem to people younger than 25, there was
a time when horror movies were produced specifically for commercial
television. The even stranger thing is that many of them were
actually good! The early 1970s were a fertile time for TV horror,
with quite a number of 'Movies of the Week' being turned out,
some of which were series hopefuls. The most famous and enduring
of these is the legendary The
Night Stalker (which spawned both a sequel telefilm and
a one-season series run), but there were many others. The same
man behind the screen adventures of Carl Kolchak produced and
directed this excellent TV movie; there was hope it would generate
a series as well. Sadly that didn't happen, but The
Norliss Tapes endures as a fine, scary tale perfect for
a fall evening at home.
David
Norliss (Roy Thinnes) is a San Francisco-based investigative
journalist who has been researching his new book for the last
year. His idea was to scrutinize supernatural/paranormal activities,
exposing what he believed would be nothing but hoaxes and charlatans.
At first frauds were all he encountered and his book looked
like an easy job. But then he started running into situations
that couldn't be explained away —
and his research took a dangerous turn. He's finally begun to
fear for his own safety. Calling his publisher, Sanford Evans
(Don Porter), Norliss tells him there might be a problem with
the book and asks to meet him for lunch to discuss it. When
the writer never shows up and no one can contact him, Evans
takes a trip out to his home to find out what's wrong. He discovers
the house deserted and the only clues to Norliss' whereabouts
are the stacks of audio taped notes he's left behind. The publisher
sits down, puts the cassette labeled "1" into the
player and we hear our main character relate a story.
On the tape Norliss
shares his growing worries about the unexplainable events that
made him doubt his original skepticism. His first encounter
with unexplainable events involves Ellen Cort (Big
Bad Mama's Angie Dickinson). The recently widowed Mrs.
Cort had a late-night encounter on the grounds of her northern
California estate that has her very concerned... Awakened by
the barking of her German Shepherd, she armed herself and followed
the dog to the outbuilding her late husband used as an art studio.
Letting herself in to look around, she's shocked to find a man
dressed in a suit and tie who comes snarling at her from the
dark. The blue-faced man kills Mrs. Cort's dog before she's
able to raise her shotgun; she then blasts him full in the chest,
flinging him across the room. Stumbling back to the main house,
she calls the police but the investigation finds only the dead
Shepherd, its blood and no trace of anyone else. Unable to get
any help form the cops, Ellen is told about Norliss by her sister
and contacts him the next day. She relates her story, telling
him the reason the police disbelieved her tale so easily —
the man she shot was her dead husband, James Cort!
While the distraught
widow appeals to Norliss we see that the blue-faced man is busy.
Lying in wait for a female victim, he kills her and leaves the
body drained of blood. The police are baffled by the missing
plasma and quickly stamp down any weird rumors, even after a
second corpse turns up in the same state.
Wondering why Mr.
Cort might be lurking around his sculpting studio post mortis,
Norliss agrees to help and accompanies the lady back to the
family estate. Finding nothing helpful at first he checks in
with local sheriff Tom Hartley (Claude Akins) but gets the runaround.
And asking if Ellen Cort's encounter might be linked with the
dead exsanguination victims gets him nothing more than a condescending
sneer. Next the reporter talks to Mademoiselle Jeckiel (Vonetta
McGee), a psychic dabbler and owner of an occult bookstore that
Cort struck up a friendship with after learning of his terminal
illness. Having exhausted medical possibilities he was searching
for supernatural means of healing his faltering body. Jeckiel
supposedly struck some kind of deal with the sculptor, giving
him an odd Egyptian Scarab ring that Cort then demanded be buried
with him. Ellen was curious about the secret conversations with
the 'psychic', but since the woman never asked for money it
seemed harmless to let James hope. When Jeckiel is evasive about
Cort and warns him to stay away from the dead man's studio,
Norliss decides to check into the history of the ring. Finding
that the Scarab is linked to the Egyptian god Sargoth and promises
of eternal life he suspects Cort may be trying to earn immortality.
Discovering a new sculpture in the studio on a second visit,
Norliss is stunned to learn that human blood has been used to
mix the clay —
cementing his fear that someone is murdering in an attempt to
bring an ancient god to life.
A fine example of
getting things right while operating within the tight restrictions
of broadcast television in the 1970s, The
Norliss Tapes is also a great modern supernatural story.
Although set in sunny California the almost constant storm clouds
and rain give the proceedings the gray, creepy feel of a gothic.
One of reasons the film succeeds so well is that the direction
compliments the script at every turn. Shot almost entirely on
location, veteran TV director Dan Curtis gives the film a feeling
of reality that makes the eerie elements seem believable. Curtis
emphasizes the use of real places by showing us the city skyline
and California coastline, all the better to convince the viewer
that what they are seeing is happening. But Curtis is also very
inventive in his choice of camera angles, roving long shots
and smart use of the zoom lens pull us further into the story.
It's a skillful job of direction that makes me wonder what he
could have accomplished with this tale without the broadcast
restrictions.
Adapted by William
F. Nolan from an original story by Fred Mustard Stewart, The
Norliss Tapes has a classic structure that intelligently
pulls the viewer along to each new revelation with increasing
fascination until the more fantastic elements seem inevitable.
Making good use of well-written voice-overs we're given lots
of information quickly, but it never feels rushed. The dialog
is naturalistic, never giving the impression of something staged
for our viewing. Of course, this is helped immensely by a very
good cast. Old hands like Dickenson and Akins are joined by
a number of great character actors from the era. Seeing some
of them really kicked up some '70s
TV nostalgia for me. Noticing the man who sold unsuspecting
Enterprise crew members Tribbles was fun, but I was especially
amused by the older actor that plays the owner of a motel later
in the film. We just don't seem to have incidental players like
that anymore.
Of course, as a pilot
for a series it's important that the lead character be interesting,
and by picking Roy Thinnes (The Invaders) they cast very
well. The actor is quite capable, handling the role as well
as I think any one could have. He's able to communicate Norliss'
determined intelligence; when action is called for he's completely
believable. I think, though, that the problem that might have
kept this from going to series is in the script. Not that I
think the script is bad —
it's quite good. But it's written in a manner that distances
us from Norliss. Even when we're listening to his private thoughts
in voice-over we get more florid descriptions of the beautiful
locales than insight into our hero. We never really get to know
Norliss as a character in the way we got to know (and like)
Kolchak in The Night Stalker. It's
not the fault of Thinnes, who really seems to be trying to invest
the guy with personality, but with the approach of the script.
I'm interested to read the original story, as I suspect this
'distant protagonist' conceit is a holdover from it that might've
worked better on the page than the screen. Suffice to say, the
more charismatic supernatural investigator got a try at series
television while the more reserved Norliss got only one shot
at greatness. We may never know what became of him now that
all those other tapes will never be played. I, for one, think
that's a shame.
|
|
|
Anchor
Bay has released The Norliss Tapes
to DVD with little fanfare and no extras. By no extras, I really
mean none. There isn't a single thing on this DVD that
might be considered a bonus unless you count the handful of trailers
for other Anchor Bay releases. I'm not complaining though, as
the disc looks and sounds very good and is easily the best looking
version of the film I've seen. Comparing it to my old copy taped
from cable TV I can see improvements in detail and color that
make the picture stand out even in the gloomy night shots. The
only soundtrack option is the original Mono, which is nice and
clear, enhancing a few of the scares that were a bit muffled on
cable.
This film is highly recommended for a dose of October fright,
especially if you want more stuff in the vein of the adventures
of Carl Kolchak. The '70s
were a fertile time for TV horror and this is a very fine piece
of that long-gone time.
10/17/06 |
•
Home
| Reviews | Top
•
|
