Ah, the summer rental. . . a long held tradition that holds within it the unique ability to escape the intense grind of day to day life, allowing renters to find peace and quiet, comfort, family bonding, with some oft beautiful site-seeing along the way. But sadly, this isn’t always how it turns out. . . case in point, 1976’s Burnt Offerings, co-written and directed by Dan Curtis (based on the novel of the same name by Robert Marasco).
The Rolf’s, author Ben (Oliver Reed), his wife Marian (Karen Black), their tween son David (Lee Montgomery), and Ben’s artsy aunt, Elizabeth (Bette Davis), are fortunate enough to have found a stunning (if dilapidated) 19th century mansion to rent for the all-too-good price of nine hundred dollars – yes, for the entire summer! The only caveat that is added by owners Arnold and Roz Allardyce (Burgess Meredith and Eileen Heckart), is that their elderly private mother, who is in her mid eighties, is going to stay in her attic flat. . . and it will be their job to bring her a tray of food for each meal (though due to her reclusive state, they are required to leave the food outside her door).
A seemingly small price to pay for a millionaire-style getaway, they jump on the opportunity. . . Marian taking on the task of ‘caring’ for the octogenarian. Falling for the home much more quickly than the others, Marian is seduced by its beauty and grandeur. . . slowly buffing out the rough spots (a carpet laid out here, a vase full of flowers there). In fact, she so loves the adventure, she begins to wear period era clothing found in the home. She slowly finds herself so wrapped up in the abode that she spends less and less time with her family.
Rather oddly though, it is not only Marian who aids the house in finding its former glory. . . as it seems as if the home itself is rejuvenating since finding some newfound blood pumping within its walls. Plants begin to grow again (quite the turnaround for the conservatory), light bulbs are mysteriously fixed, and odd things start to happen – unusual bursts of anger from Ben, locked doors, gas heaters randomly turning on, the now clean pool developing waves like the high seas. Perhaps most alarming is Ben’s vision. . . a recurring motif of a shades wearing, Cheshire cat grinning, hearse driving Chauffeur (Anthony James) he recalls as if from distant memory. Soon, lives are at risk, and Ben is pleading with his wife to leave the mansion for their own humble home. . . but will she be able to pull herself away from her newfound obsessive hobby?
Not particularly scary when compared to other haunting films from the era (The Exorcist, The Omen, or The Changeling, to name but three), what it does do very well is build a slow but steady palpable atmosphere (in fact, its pacing might be too slow for some modern viewers). Filmed at the outstanding Dunsmuir House in Oakland, California (it also features in the 1989 horror movie The Vineyard, which I reviewed last year in one of my ‘Missed the Bloody Cut’ sections), this very real location is almost overwhelming (in fact, it was shot entirely on location). Combined with intricate set design, it is those little trinkets, like an ornate music box, or a table full of framed photos featuring all of the families from the past, that sets the atmosphere – making us contemplate our surroundings. We know something is up, but what exactly is this alarming mystery?
Though its dialogue is nothing special, it helps having a talented cast to bring these characters to life. Reed has his blood pressure pumping, growing progressively more angry and unnerved the longer they stay at the mansion, while Black’s portrayal of his wife is in complete juxtaposition to her husband’s demeanor. . . a conundrum that sees her maternal bond take over in regards to the house. She is in her milieu, a vexing character who is both caring and aloof, passionate yet somehow growing more apathetic to the concerns of her own family (in many ways seemingly attuned to the vibrations of the manor). While their son, boldly brought to life by Montgomery, is roughly put through the ringer in many a scene (noticeably no stunt double in several intense moments) – an impressive performance from a child. Then there’s Davis, making the most of her character and transforming it into one of those memorable ‘Bette’ personas that only she could create (her unhealthy scenes cannot be soon forgotten). And lest we forget about Meredith and Heckart, who ramp up the eccentricity nicely at the beginning (and final moments) of the movie.
With its most memorable moment arguably coming at the very ending, though you might figure out the twist much sooner on, it doesn’t make Burnt Offerings any less effective. . . in fact, in some ways, it would make for interesting viewing in a double feature with The Shining. A final note – Bob Cobert’s dynamic score deserves mention. . . from its intimidatingly foreboding moments to the music box’s almost childlike romantic lullaby (with just a touch of apprehensive reverberation), its strings, horns, and xylophone bells really make an impact. So, give this 70s cult classic a chance, it might just be your next ‘attic’tion.