Susan Oliver - a real thriller!

 I was watching an episode of Karloff's Thriller this week called Choose a Victim. It is episode 19 of Season One (1961 - directed by Richard Carlson). It's about a rich woman who befriends a beach bum and starts a romance with him, but it turns out it is a ploy that leads to murder (of course). I'm a big fan of Thriller. In fact, it might be my favorite anthology series of all time, depending on my mood... It's certainly one of my favorites. This episode starred Susan Oliver as the rich heiress and Larry Blyden as the beach dweller.

A couple of days later I watched an episode of The Twilight Zone and there was Susan Oliver again. This episode was People Are Alike All Over (episode 25 of Season One, 1960). It's about a pair of Earth astronauts (Roddy McDowell and Paul Comi) who crash land on Mars. Susan plays one of the Martians they encounter who are just a little too friendly.

Susan was a prolific actress on television, appearing in dozens of popular television shows the likes of Bonanza, The Andy Griffith Show, Gunsmoke, The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, Night Gallery, and The Wild Wild West. Her most famous appearance in genre circles was probably her performance as the green dancing alien in the original Star Trek. She appears in the closing credits of that show, so her image is burned into the memory of sci-fi fans everywhere. Her career stretched from the 50s to the 80s and she appeared in films as well, both made for TV and theatrical films. 

Susan was a terrific actress, stunningly beautiful and a talented performer. She is great in everything I've seen - I am definitely going to track down more of her work. Her career was tragically cut short when she died of cancer in 1990 at the age of 58. 

There is a documentary about Susan called The Green Girl that covers her life and acting career. It is available to watch on Tubi right now.

Tales of Terror

 

Last night, I rewatched my favorite film from the Corman Poe cycle - Tales of Terror. Made in 1962, this one features a fantastic script from the great Richard Matheson. Corman certainly recognized talent when he saw it. Matheson penned 4 of the Poe films - Charles Beaumont wrote another three, and Robert Towne wrote the final one, Tomb of Ligeia. Talk about an embarrassment of riches!

Tales of Terror is the fourth film in the series. It is a horror anthology comprised of three stories: Morella, The Black Cat, and The Case of M. Valdemar. Each of the stories features Vincent Price prominently. 

In Morella, Price plays Locke, whose estranged daughter Lenora (Maggie Pierce) returns to reunite with him before she dies of an illness. But the drunken, depressed Locke harbors a dark secret in the crumbling, cobweb-laden mansion…

The second tale is The Black Cat, a clever mashup of the Poe stories The Black Cat and The Cask of Amontillado. Matheson managed to combine the two tales flawlessly, and this story features my favorite segment of any film from Corman’s Poe cycle; the drinking contest between Fortunato Luchresi (Price) and Montresor Herringbone (Peter Lorre). Montressor stumbles into a wine-tasting convention and challenges the expert, Fortunato, to a tasting contest. The two actors play off one another perfectly in this segment, with Price genteelly sipping his wine in the approved fashion, while Lorre gulps great goblets of wine. 

The final story is The Case of M. Valdemar. Price plays Valdemar, an elderly man on his deathbed, who agrees to be hypnotized at the point of death by Carmichael (Basil Rathbone). This has unintended consequences, as Valdemar becomes trapped in a purgatory between life and death…

This film was a turning point in the series, as Corman decided to intentionally work humor into the script for the first time. Corman was worried they were beginning to repeat themselves in some ways with these films and thought working in humor would help differentiate this one. Which he should be credited for - always the artist, Corman wanted to stretch and try something new rather than take the easy route, which would have been more of the same. There had previously been humorous moments in the first three films, but this was the first time they intentionally made one of the films, or at least a segment of it, a comedy. The first three movies each featured a somber tone, but the second story in Tales of Terror leaned heavily into humor to great effect. That is not to say it was a straight comedy - it gracefully walks a tightrope between humor and horror, which isn’t the easiest thing to do. Matheson’s script has some genuine chills in addition to the laughs. This is the best segment in the film and sets the stage for a comedic feature film with the next Poe film, The Raven. 

“I am genuinely dedicated to your destruction.”

This segment also features a dream sequence that fits in with another theme I’ve been exploring recently - severed heads in films. Montressor returns from a heavy night of drinking at the pub and passes out on his bed. Now one note - at this point of the film he has discovered that his wife Annabel (Joyce Jameson) and Fortunato were having an affair, and has murdered both of them. He sealed their corpses inside a wall in the basement. He dreams that the two of them break free of their imprisonment and pull his head off, then begin playing catch with it. Lorre’s severed head begins protesting, “Give me back my head” while they play keep-away from his headless corpse, which is running around frantically.

It’s a neat little dream sequence, which these Corman films almost always feature - and has a touch of the macabre in it along with the humor; the scene of the corpses coming alive and breaking through the brick wall is legitimately spooky. I could see it giving young viewers nightmares in 1962.

All of the Poe films were influential to fellow filmmakers at that time, and it must be noted this was pre-Amicus days. There had been a few anthology films up to this point, but not a lot. This one helped pave the way for more to come, as Amicus’ first portmanteau, Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors, would be made just three years after this. It's not a stretch to imagine that Subotsky and Rosenberg, the founders of Amicus, were influenced and inspired by this film.

The Corman Poe Cycle

 I've been thinking about the Roger Corman Poe cycle a lot lately after hosting the double-feature this past weekend. Corman produced and directed this series of films between 1960-1964. All were based on Poe works and all but one of them starred the great Vincent Price.

 
There are eight official films in the Poe cycle, although I personally like to include The Terror in the cycle too. It isn't officially based on a Poe work, but it looks and feels just like one of those films. It was made in 1963 and was produced and directed by Corman (with other directors shooting additional footage after-the-fact to complete the film). It was also mostly shot on the sets of The Raven. Corman famously wanted to take advantage of the still-standing sets before they were torn down, and hired Boris Karloff and Jack Nicholson for a two-day shoot. If they had included a couple of lines from some work of Poe's at the beginning or end of the film, it would have fit as easily as something like The Haunted Palace, which bears no other Poe ties than a quick quote.

The official films in the Poe cycle are: House of Usher (1960), The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), The Premature Burial (1962), Tales of Terror (1962), The Raven (1963), The Haunted Palace (1963), The Masque of the Red Death (1964), The Tomb of Ligeia (1964). 

 They raised his reputation in the minds of critics and fans alike,
and are arguable his signature work.

These films were a real game changer for Corman. Prior to this, he had been known primarily as a producer/director who made films fast and cheap. The Poe films, made on a bigger budget, with better scripts and name actors, proved he was capable of more than just exploitation quickies. And they were wildly successful. They raised his reputation in the minds of critics and fans alike, and are arguable his signature work. They raised his stature to that of an auteur - like Bergman, Fellini, or Hitchcock. These films are instantly recognizable as Corman films - they don't look and feel like any other director's work. And they've stood the test of time - they're just as captivating and haunting today as when they originally came out. 

 

Roger Corman Double-Feature intro

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of introducing a Roger Corman double-feature at the historic Belcourt Theater in Nashville, TN. The screening took place at noon and featured two of Corman’s Poe adaptations—The Pit and the Pendulum and Masque of the Red Death. Many consider these to be the best of the series, but of course that's a matter of personal taste.

I recorded my introduction and shared it on YouTube, so I thought I’d post it here as well. The audience was fantastic, and it was truly heartwarming to see a modern crowd applauding films that have been around for over 60 years. Even better, a group of high school students attended, and one of them said afterward that The Pit and the Pendulum was the best horror movie he’d ever seen. How great is that?

A heartfelt thank you to the Belcourt for inviting me—it’s always an honor to be part of these screenings!

The Frozen Dead

 A couple of days ago my friend Tim Lucas (film critic, writer, former editor of Video Watchdog magazine) posted a photo on Facebook from The Frozen Dead (1966). I’ve been aware of this movie for some time now and always meant to watch it but somehow never got around to it. Which is surprising because subject matter-wise it’s right up my alley. So, I thought I’d do myself a favor and finally seek this one out.

The Frozen Dead stars Dana Andrews as a Nazi mad scientist named Dr. Norberg, speaking with a German inflection no less! I’ve always liked Dana Andrews, so that was a plus for me right off the bat. The plot is suitably ridiculous for this type of film: Norberg is attempting to revive a squadron of Nazi soldiers that have been frozen since WWII, and in the process, has been carrying out wild experiments, which include a wall of severed arms kept “alive.”

He maintains a hidden room full of botched experiments—soldiers that were faultily resurrected as brain-dead zombies. The doctor’s niece unexpectedly arrives for a visit with a friend named Elsa (Kathleen Breck). Their stay doesn't go as well as expected, however, as one of the resurrected soldiers murders Elsa on their first night at the mansion.

(Gotta love that the frozen soldiers are held by clamps on their HEADS, like frozen chunks of beef.)

Not one to let an opportunity go to waste, Norberg uses this as an excuse to perform an experiment he'd always wanted to try. He keeps Elsa’s severed head alive in a box, with a plastic dome mounted over the top of her skull where the brain is now exposed. Her skin is also inexplicably blue.

While I appreciate the mad science shenanigans in this one, it’s unfortunately nowhere near as interesting as it could have been. The setup is great, but the film falls short in the execution; large portions of this one are just plain boring. The film also lifts heavily from the much better film The Brain that Wouldn’t Die (1962). Just as in that film, this one has a female head kept alive through science, a failed experiment locked away (the monster in Brain, the zombie soldiers in this one), and the head develops telepathic powers in each. Elsa begs for them to "Bury me," and in Brain we hear the woman (Jan, played by Virginia Leith) beg, "Let me die." By the way, The Brain that Wouldn't Die in turn borrowed material from the German film The Head (1959), which brings us back full circle with the Germanic influence.

The Frozen Dead was directed by Herbert J. Leder, who also directed It! starring Roddy McDowall. In fact, this film played on a double bill with It!. Leder had also previously written the screenplay for Fiend Without a Face.

Despite the pacing issues, The Frozen Dead is still worth a watch with plenty of outlandish elements, including zombies, frozen Nazi soldiers, gruesome experiments, a dungeon laboratory, severed body parts, and a head kept alive. Plus, it's got some memorable visuals. If you're a sucker for mad science films like me, then check it out!

Cameron Mitchell, Horror Host

Last week, I discussed actor Cameron Mitchell's appearance in the film Nightmare in Wax. A few days later, I posted about my Halloween countdown of films from the Shock! package of Universal movies and the horror hosts who showed those films in their initial run on television in the 1950s and 1960s. Did you know that Cameron Mitchell also took a turn as a horror host? 

Well, sort of. More accurately, he played a horror-host-STYLE character in Terror on Tape (1985). This was a shot-on-video production that featured Mitchell playing the proprietor of a video store that specializes in horror movies. A trio of customers come into the shop (including scream queen Michelle Bauer), each looking for the scariest and goriest films in existence. Mitchell shows them clips from various horror movies on a television set resting on the counter. The film keeps cutting back and forth between the video store and the movie clips, with Cameron enthusiastically introducing each segment with a cheesy flair that would make the best horror host proud.

This program was made by Comet Video and Continental Video, and the movie clips were all from films distributed by Continental.

The movies featured were:

Nightmare

The Eerie Midnight Horror Show

Frozen Scream

Cathy’s Curse

Return of the Alien’s Deadly Spawn

Ruby

Night Creature

Suicide Cult

Scalps

Slayer

2000 Maniacs

Blood Feast

Color Me Blood Red

To the Devil a Daughter

Kidnapping of the President

Vampire Hookers

Alien Prey

City of the Walking Dead

Bloodtide

Madhouse Mansion

The best I can tell, Comet Video shot this for Continental. Either it was a collaboration between the two, or perhaps Comet was a subsidiary of Continental. Either way, it was a clever idea from Continental. Put together a fun little video using clips from their catalog - Instant advertising for their own movies. Ingenious!

Terror on Tape was released straight to video and became a favorite of kids of a certain age who stumbled across it at their local video store. Nowadays, these tapes go for big money - a quick search on eBay showed listings between 150 - 400 dollars. However, I think 150 is the standard price you can expect to pay on VHS in 2025 depending on the quality of the tape. Someone has it for sale there on DVD as well, but it’s pretty cheap (and is probably just a rip from tape). It’s those original VHS tapes that are coveted by collectors.

This tape is a nostalgic snapshot of a bygone era,
an age of big-box VHS and mom-and-pop video stores.

This tape is a nostalgic snapshot of a bygone era, an age of big-box VHS and mom-and-pop video stores. The clips are fun, but the host segments are what really make this work. They’re campy and fun and Mitchell does a great job as the cornball spooky host. The fog-shrouded store is decorated with cobwebs and spooky artifacts, and Mitchell makes the most of it, shuffling about the set, conversing with skulls, and introducing the films with a hammy flair. It’s silly, ridiculous, and completely charming. Worth a look, you can find a copy on YouTube or archive.org.

Farewell Salute to Big Chuck Schodowski

I was very saddened this week to hear about the passing of legendary horror host Chuck Schodowski. “Big Chuck” as he’s known affectionately to fans, rose to fame in the Cleveland market and hosted films on television for an incredible 47 years on station WJW. He originally worked with the great Ghoulardi, crewing on that show as well as appearing in skits. When Ghoulardi left to pursue work in LA the station encouraged Chuck to take over the hosting duties. He was at first reluctant to do so, which is easy to understand since Ghoulardi’s show was incredibly popular and was a hard act to follow. But he eventually agreed, co-hosting the show with local weatherman Bob Hoolihan Wells beginning in 1966. 

The Hoolihan and Big Chuck show quickly became popular in its own right, largely because they didn’t try to do the same schtick that Ghoulardi did, instead creating their own unique brand of entertainment. Their show consisted largely of short comedic sketches filmed in and around Cleveland. That show ran for 13 years on WJW, until Hoolihan left and moved to Florida. He was replaced by Lil’ John Rinaldi, and the Big Chuck and Lil’ John Show became even more popular, running for another 28 years on WJW.

Big Chuck is a legend in the horror host field, and arguably the longest-running horror host of all time. Their host bits for their show were filmed live-to-tape in front of a studio audience and the show is fondly remembered by Clevendars to this day. Chuck published an autobiography that recounts his favorite stories over his 47 years of television work. It’s a great book and a fun read, I highly recommend it. 

We here at Shackle Island want to give a big salute to Big Chuck -  I’ve been able to see his show through recordings from fans and have loved the humor, warmth, and positivity of the show. Here’s to ya Chuck, thanks for all the entertainment and inspiration. You’re a one-of-a-kind!