That spooky time of year

Saturday 11/7/26

This has never been noted before (that is, you won't see it in listed adaptations of his work), but the CBS Radio Mystery Theater episode, “The Five Ghostly Indians,” set on the coast of Maine, is a loose adaptation of two M.R. James stories, “Oh, Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad” and “A Warning to the Curious.” Listened to it first thing Halloween morning.

Also listened to the Quiet, Please episode "The Thing on the Fourble Board"--which I do a lot of--and an abridged, two-hour BBC reading by Emma Fielding from 1997 of Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House.

The Val Lewton-produced The Seventh Victim (1943), with a pre-Leave It to Beaver Hugh Beaumont, is superior to Roman Polanski's Rosemary's Baby (1968), which borrows liberally from it. Few filmmakers balanced intellectual refinement and cinematic showmanship like Lewton. RKO essentially traded Orson Welles and what they deemed his baggage for Val Lewton and his aforesaid (on-the-cheap) refinement and showmanship. We perhaps lost out on a great picture or two from Welles--though who knows--but got that Lewton horror run instead.

Bela Lugosi's films get colorized a lot (abomination!) but he starred in only one film that was actually in color. This would be 1947's Scared to Death. Alas, it's a battered down old workhorse of a movie, but the Lugosi buff is accustomed to "watching around," if you will, the less artful (to put it charitably) parts of some these pictures to focus on the contributions of the man himself. Think of it like Dean Benedetti only recording Charlie Parker's solos. I guess.

Pick for the sweetest (but not saccharine) Halloween episode to air on American television: "Fairy Tales Can Come True" from the third season of Cheers. Cliff meets an equally lonely and shy woman while both are wearing their masks and costumes. They hit it off, dance, and agree to rendezvous the next night at the bar (which is all kitted out with Halloween decor) as themselves. So touching. I love it.

I watched that last weekend, as well as the "Ham Radio" episode of Frasier I'd alluded to in a recent entry. It's not technically a Halloween episode, but given my love of classic radio scares and what an earnest homage this is with its heart in the right place, I thought it'd be apt to revisit. What struck me looking at such a high-quality copy of the episode is that this isn't maybe the best way to see these things. I know, hush your mouth! Every last hair on the arm must be visible or else!

The actors are very theatrical in their facial expressions and such. You could almost call it mugging. It's closer to what you'd see in the theater than on the screen. I think that comes under scrutiny when you're watching something like this in a higher-definition than maybe you're meant to. Just a thought. Doesn't lessen my fondness for the show or the episode.

You watch the early Universal horror films and you’re reminded what a linchpin Edward Van Sloan was. Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy—he’s essential to these pictures, lending them a kind of scholarly gravitas that helps the supernatural aspects do their thing. Then we see him again a few years later in Dracula’s Daughter.

Another highlight of my Halloween: the 1975 documentary, In Search of Dracula, narrated/hosted by Christopher Lee. Works as horror itself and jammed with information and fascinating footage from Transylvania. Lee was clearly into this, too. I like his zeal. He wasn't someone inclined to be passive or merely go through the motions.

Billy Lee Riley was a cometary figure at Sam Philips' Sun label, producing less material than some of his more famous label mates and sort of flashing through the night sky. For Halloween I listened to no less than eleven straight alternate takes of Riley's "Flying Saucer Rock 'n' Roll," which I'd suggest is the rock and roll equivalent of Orson Welles' "The War of the Worlds" production or watching The Thing from Another World on the big night.

1953's The War of the Worlds also succeeds as admirable Halloween fare. Isn't a large grouping of sci-fi/horror films we can say that about, but the ones that we can are as congruous with the holiday as the early Universal flicks and House on Haunted Hill.

And talk of the devil: took in the original TV broadcast from 1981 of 1978's Halloween in which The Thing from Another World is famously watched by babysitter Laurie and her young charge. This aired on October 30, which was the same date that Halloween II (cutting it close there, right?) premiered in theaters.

Twelve minutes of scenes were added. I kind of like how uncinematic the new scene is with Dr. Loomis and the two men on the hospital board. It just keeps going in this otherwise empty conference room for an uncomfortable amount of time. Pretty amusing in its awkwardness. Dr. Loomis the Michael Myers-hunter and Donald Pleasance the actor fuse as one in their exasperation.

The scene actually reminded me of the end of that Frasier "Ham Radio" episode, when they finish the remake of the vintage broadcast well ahead of time because of the bloodbath, as Martin puts it, and the producer gives the sign to stretch/fill. I picture someone off-screen doing that with this tacked-on Halloween scene. There's a lot of hanging out in the film, which is one of its strength. Halloween unfolds with this in-real-time feeling.

This broadcast is as was; meaning, the commercials were intact. Same thing you'd have seen on TV that night, soup to nuts. How different from watching TV today. The commercials, miracle of miracles, don't try to annoy you out of your mind. They aren't even unpleasant. Whereas, these days it's like, "What's the most irritating idiocy that we can come up with to bombard people with again, and again, and again."

I earlier referenced watching Livide (set on Halloween) as well, but wanted to add that I like how the three young people have seen and are presumably fans of Halloween III: Season of the Witch, riffing on its infamous song as they set out on their mission to locate the treasure hidden in the old woman's house when those creepy trick or treaters approach their car.

Lastly, it'd be lost on just about everyone alive right now because it's stately and you have to pay attention as you watch--what an insane qualifier to have to make--but seeing the The Mummy (1932) for the latest time to cap off Halloween night I was taken aback by its quality. It has a case for the best--or at least the most artfully realized--of the early Universal horrors. Glad to have it featured in my horror film book. I did a good job writing about it as no one has.