By the Skin of Your Teeth

There is something alluring about ghost tales being told in the darkness of the night. . . the way in which John Carpenter’s 1980 horror thriller The Fog opens – with a grizzled seafarer (John Houseman) recounting (to a group of wide-eyed children) the story of a ship of sailors who died in a horrific manner off of the coast of their small town one hundred years earlier. Building off of the success of his hit from two years earlier, Halloween, Carpenter once again shows his skills at developing an immersive world – this time creating a realistic ocean-side town packed with intriguing personas (in both films, he does so with a very limited budget). The locale, Antonio Bay, California, is celebrating its one hundredth anniversary, something the townsfolk are very proud of, especially Kathy Williams (Janet Leigh), one of the organizers of the festivities.

Talk about a hook of an opener – an extended tracking shot follows a man from behind as he enters a police station to report a murder. . . his own, and, rather interestingly, it seems as though the detectives were waiting for him. The man – Frank Bigelow (Edmond O’Brien); the film noir, D.O.A., a 1949 mystery directed by Rudolph Maté (a man who made several quality movies, though is better known for his superlative work as a cinematographer – think of Carl Theodor Dreyer’s two silent masterpieces The Passion of Joan of Arc and Vampyr, or later, Alfred Hitchcock’s Foreign Correspondent, Ernst Lubitsch’s To Be or Not to Be and Charles Vidor’s Gilda). Bigelow narrates his story to the men, transporting us back to the beginning of the tale.

It is Noirvember once again. . . the only time of the year when cynicism, doom-laden prospects and other dark themes should be sought out and applauded. The first film noir to grace Filmizon.com this November, 2017, is 1946's The Stranger. Directed by Orson Welles (his fourth feature, following the two classics Citizen Kane and The Magnificent Ambersons), this drama (with several film noir elements) follows Mr. Wilson (Edward G. Robinson – intriguingly, Welles originally wanted Agnes Moorehead portraying the lead as some sort of spinster lady), a sort of detective with the United Nations War Crimes Commission – or, to give his job a cooler name, he is basically a ‘Nazi Hunter’.

The penultimate movie to watch on October 31st, John Carpenter’s 1978 motion picture Halloween is the king of the slasher horror genre, fusing a villain of pure evil with suspenseful subtlety that keeps the viewer on the edge of their seat. Co-written by John Carpenter and Debra Hill (who also produces), the simple yet effective story begins with a young Michael Myers murdering his sister on Halloween night, 1963, in Haddonfield, Illinois. Committed to the Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, the Myers home, even fifteen years later, sits empty, dilapidated and believed by most community members to be haunted.

In 1942, RKO Pictures set up a horror unit under producer Val Lewton, a former journalist, novelist and poet who had gone on to become a story editor for David O. Selznick. It was his job to develop low budget horror pictures for under 150,000 dollars, with the studio providing the titles for the films. His first task, the strangely named Cat People, almost seems like a joke. A way for RKO to compete with the popular Universal horror films of the time, Lewton hired writer DeWitt Bodeen (I Remember Mama), director Jacques Tourneur (Out of the Past), cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca (I kid you not, both Out of the Past and I Remember Mama), and composer Roy Webb (Notorious, Marty) – a quality ensemble. And, Lewton supervised everything, the type of producer who would do re-writes on scripts, aid with editing and be involved in every other minute detail of the production process. In a unique twist, the films Lewton created with RKO have become synonymous with him and his distinct style, rather than the directors’, a rare occurrence to be sure.