Who's minding the asylum?: Alone in the Dark

Now Playing: Alone in the Dark (1982)

Pros: Great cast led by Donald Pleasence, Jack Palance and Martin Landau; Good building of tension; Lots of sly black humor
Cons: Casting two familiar actors in the maniac roles somewhat undermines the characters’ menace

Even though the end of October is my busiest time during my favorite season, when I saw that fellow bloggers Gill from Realweegiemidget Reviews and Barry from Cinematic Catharsis were hosting a Donald Pleasence blogathon, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity.

I first encountered Mr. Pleasence when my parents took me to see The Great Escape at the fancy cinema in the big city. In this great WWII epic set in a German prisoner of war camp, Pleasence plays Blythe, an unassuming little man that no one would look twice at -- except that he is a master forger, and the men planning their escape from the camp need his help creating ID papers. Ironically, he was very prepared for the role. During the war Pleasence was a crew member on an RAF bomber that was shot down over France, and he spent time in just such a camp.

For my next encounter, I stood in a long line at the local downtown theater to see You Only Live Twice (naturally, this was before the era of multiplexes). Pleasence’s turn as the Bond super villain Blofeld is memorable. Blofeld, his face hidden behind a screen, strokes his beautiful Persian cat as he orders his minions around in a quest for world domination. Later on, the reveal of his scarred face is worthy of a horror film, and You Only Live Twice immediately became my new favorite movie (not that I needed any excuse to like James Bond movies at that age).

Somehow, this diminutive, soft-spoken, professorial-looking man could play the most endearing, gentle person in one film and then make your blood run cold the next. Speaking of blood running cold, while Pleasence was by no means a horror specialist, he made his fair share of horror films, enough for at least a couple of Halloween film festivals.

Blofeld suddenly realized that in his haste
to blackmail world leaders, he forgot
to pick up more kitty litter.

One of his earliest and best horror roles was as the slimy Mr. Hare in The Flesh and the Fiends (1960), the creepiest retelling of the infamous Burke and Hare story that you’ve never heard of (see my review here). In the early ‘60s, guest shots on such spooky TV series as One Step Beyond, The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits indicated his potential for creepy roles.

By the early ‘70s, the horror roles became more numerous. Pleasence played an inspector in the claustrophobic cult horror Death Line (aka Raw Meat, 1972), then a mad doctor in The Freakmakers (aka The Mutations, 1974). Along the way were memorable appearances in the anthology fright fests Tales that Witness Madness (1973) and From Beyond the Grave (1974). Whether he was playing good guys or villains, he always lent an aura of class to these low-budget films.

Pleasence is perhaps best remembered for his role as Dr. Loomis, Michael Myer’s attending psychiatrist and grim adversary in the Halloween film franchise. Although horror movies traditionally have portrayed psychiatrists as hopelessly naïve and easily duped by the depraved psychopaths they’re treating, Loomis is famously clear-eyed and adamant in the original Halloween: “I spent eight years trying to reach him, and then another seven trying to keep him locked up, because I realized that what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply... evil.”

A few years after uttering that severe judgment, Pleasence would play yet another psychiatrist in a horror film, only this time his character, Dr. Leo Bain, would be the complete opposite of Loomis -- idealistic and naïve to a deadly fault.

Like many slasher films, Alone in the Dark (1982) operates in a Dirty Harry kind of world where do-gooders who believe criminals can be reformed and lunatics can be cured (or at least controlled) are setting themselves up to be lambs to the slaughter.

The slaughterers in this case are a quartet of psychos who occupy the third floor of an institution run by Dr. Bain. Bain doesn’t like the loaded term “asylum,” preferring to call his institution “The Haven.”

The New Age psychiatrist in his natural habitat.

Bain’s Haven is home to all kinds of crazies, er, um ill people, but the boys on the third floor are psychopaths with a history of murder and mayhem. “Fatty” Elster (Erland van Lidth) is an obese child molester. John “The Bleeder” Skaggs (Phillip Clark), who doesn’t like to show his face, is a strangler who gets severe nosebleeds when he kills. Byron “Preacher” Sutcliff (Martin Landau) is a former minister who believes he’s on a mission from God, and has a tendency to burn down churches with people inside them. The leader of the group, Hawkes (Jack Palance), is a grizzled war veteran with a severe case of homicidal post-traumatic stress disorder.

As Bain is giving a tour to his newest staff doctor, Dan Potter (Dwight Schultz), he explains that the state authorities were at first nervous about Bain keeping these dangerous inmates, but let it go when he installed electric sensor-operated steel shutters that allow the men to roam the floor, but are activated if they try to leave their confines. Later, the third floor orderly Ray Curtis (Brent Jennings) confides to Potter that all that separates him (and the outside world) from these men is electricity. He also warns the new doctor that Hawkes is convinced that Potter killed his predecessor, Dr. Merton, who left The Haven to take another position.

Potter brushes off Curtis’ warning about Hawkes, chalking it up to a typical inmate’s delusion. But, unlike the smugly confident Dr. Potter, we know just where this is heading -- the power is going to go off, the third floor inmates will escape, and there will be hell to pay.

"DR. POTTER!! ... Happy...trails..."

Coming out in 1982, Alone in the Dark rode the wave of slasher films that followed in the wake of the surprise hits Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980). Slashers seemed like a natural fit for a Zeitgeist molded by Vietnam, Watergate, oil shortages, stagflation and rising crime, where trust in authorities and a society that could keep us safe and secure was at an all-time low. Slasher films taught us that no place was safe, not small towns, big cities, summer camps, sorority houses… zip, zero, zilch. Even Reagan’s “Morning in America” couldn’t tamp down these exceedingly dark films.

Alone in the Dark is a classic artifact of its time, and a relentless indictment of it: authorities are incompetent and clueless, and society is just one power blackout away from savage chaos.

Exhibit #1 in the list of indictments is Dr. Bain. Bain is the ultimate touchy-feely, new-agey intellectual who doesn’t seem to be living on the same planet as the rest of humanity. He tells Potter that the Haven’s inmates aren’t patients, but rather “voyagers taking a journey into the innermost reaches of the psyche.”

Bain values the voyagers’ welfare to the point that he is oblivious to the dangers they pose to the outside world. He indulges the firebug “Preacher” by giving him matches, which the man promptly uses to light his coat on fire and swing it wildly around.

Later, after Hawkes & crew have made their escape and are racking up a body count, Bain frets that the men are “still disturbed by their escape,” and their violence is “a cry of pain.” In another bit of black humor, Bain tries to phone Potter’s home, but the line has been cut. He argues with the operator, who can’t convince him the line is out. When she ends the call with a sarcastic remark, Bain mutters to himself “Now she’s got a serious problem!” In playing the part absolutely straight, Pleasence manages to elicit a bit of sympathy for a character that is otherwise dangerously out-of-touch.

More deserving of sympathy is Dr. Potter, whose decision to take a new job at the Haven turns out to be the worst of his life. Moving your family to a new place is hard enough without the homicidal inmates at your new workplace deciding that you’ve killed their beloved doctor, and then being set free by a freak power blackout to stalk you and your loved ones.

Bain and Potter discuss the wisdom of giving matches to pyromaniacs.

Even before that particular sh*t hits the fan, Potter is stressed after his tour of the facilities and observance of Dr. Bain’s decidedly unique methods for handling the residents. His wife Nell (Deborah Hedwall) is skeptical, flippantly asking “Why can’t you just get an office and treat neurotics like a normal person?”

To add insult to injury, Potter's neurotic, needy sister Toni (Lee Taylor-Allen) is visiting for the week, and, dressed in a punk outfit and pink hair, she insists on dragging her brother and sister-in-law to a punk rock concert headlined by The Sick F*cks (a real band, it turns out). The only member of the family who seems unaffected by all the turmoil is the Potter’s young daughter Lyla (Elizabeth Ward), who calls her parents by their first names and has the grating self-confidence of a precocious pre-teen.

It’s while the group is at the concert that the power goes out. Potter is grateful for the reprieve from the musical stylings of the Sick F*cks, but little does he know that the outage has set in motion a chain of events that will end up with he and his family holed up in their house, trying to dodge crossbow arrows and hunting knife blades wielded by another band of truly sick f*cks.

Living in our current age of anxiety, it’s easy to forget that there have been other periods when popular opinion held that we were well and truly screwed. In addition to Dr. Bain’s questionable authority -- it’s tempting to think that he’s not a real doctor, but one of the inmates running the asylum -- Alone in the Dark depicts a world that is ready to crumble into chaos at a moment’s notice.

The blackout turns the quiet little town into a seething mass of rioters and looters. When Hawkes and his band arrive in town in their stolen car, they’re completely in their element. Hawkes looks around at the cars on fire and the broken store windows and beams with satisfaction, like a victorious general surveying the battlefield. As the inmates join a crowd of looters at the sporting goods store and help themselves to all kinds of knives and weapons, they’re barely noticed in all the confusion.

The boys help themselves to sale items at the local sporting goods store.

It’s probably no coincidence that the two most colorful Haven escapees are an ex-military man and an ex-preacher. Along with Bain representing medical science, Hawkes and Sutcliff are highly dubious representatives of their respective institutions. Alone in the Dark suggests that not only are the inmates running the asylum, they’re threatening to run the whole world.

But Bain, Hawkes and Sutcliff aren’t the film’s only digs at contemporary society. At one point, as the Potters are trying to deal with the consequences of the blackout, an announcer on the radio playing in the background reads a press release from the local nuclear power station denying any responsibility for the power outage (corporate speak for “we’re as guilty as hell, but just try to prove it!”). That's Toni's cue to be “helpful” once again and drag sister-in-law Nell to a huge protest at the plant.

She only manages to get Nell and herself jailed for disturbing the peace. And through parental miscommunication, Lyla is home alone. Uh-oh!

Alone in the Dark does a masterful job of ratcheting up the tension, slowly at first, with the “something’s not quite right here” tour of The Haven, to the maniacs casing the Potter’s home (the Preacher pretends to be a telegram messenger, and Fatty poses as Lyla’s babysitter), to the all-out assault on the family at the climax.

The boys enjoy a ride around town.

Along the way, in addition to the sly commentary, it also has fun with slasher tropes (or should I say, plot elements that were soon to become tropes in the ‘80s). There’s the classic clueless babysitter who, after making sure the kid is asleep, invites her boyfriend over to fool around. The writers set up a clever bit of misdirection when she hears strange sounds, and insists that the boyfriend check out the bedroom closet.

The stellar, high-profile cast, especially Jack Palance and Martin Landau, is the film’s biggest asset and at the same time its biggest weakness. Palance, no matter the role, always looked like he was ready to explode at any moment, and is a perfect fit for the hand-grenade-without-a-pin that is Hawkes. And when Landau breaks into his wide-eyed, evil-Joker smile, he sends chills up the spine.

But the atmosphere of dread that Alone in the Dark takes pains to cultivate is undercut by making the characters a little too familiar, what with their background stories and recognizable faces. By contrast, the unseen killer in the original Friday the 13th is a complete surprise at the end, and Halloween’s Michael Myers is an evil enigma, a “shape” behind a rubber mask.

This was not the only horror film Palance and Landau would make together. A couple of years earlier, the two appeared in Without Warning (1980), a low-budget sci-fi/horror film featuring a Predator-like alien hunting humans in the woods.

"Heeeerrrrrrrrrrre's Byron!"

Both would go on to score dark horse supporting actor Oscar wins, Palance for City Slickers (1991) and Martin Landau for Ed Wood (1994). And of course, Donald Pleasence would become a fixture as Loomis in one of the most successful horror film franchises of all time.

Alone in the Dark was writer-director Jack Sholder’s first feature, and it’s quite a debut. In the next few years he made two more minor cult favorites, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985) and The Hidden (1987), then settled into directing TV movies and episodes.

When I found out about the blogathon and was perusing Donald Pleasence’s IMDb resume for a good Halloween choice (excluding the Halloween movies, which others have written about extensively), Alone in the Dark jumped out at me because I had no recollection of ever seeing it or even reading about it. I’m not a big fan of slasher movies, but I’m at least aware of the classics and some of the also-rans in the genre, so stumbling across an unknown (to me) horror film starring not only Donald, but Jack and Martin as well was a Pleasence surprise (sorry, I couldn't help myself).

Usually in these cases, the reason I’ve never heard of a film is because it’s so bad even bad movie lovers have steered clear over the years. Since Alone in the Dark is very good, it remains a mystery how it evaded my attention all this time. Thanks to Gill and Barry and their Devilishly Delightful Donald Pleasence blogathon for indirectly steering me to this great find!

Alone in the Dark is a good reminder that it pays to be prepared for emergencies
like power blackouts and/or homicidal maniacs invading your home.

Where to find it: DVD/Blu-ray | Streaming

Labor Day Weekend Travel Advisory: Avoid Roadside Tourist Traps

Now Playing: Tourist Trap (1979)

Pros: Adds a layer of surreal eeriness to the slasher genre; Pays clever homage to traditional horror tropes.
Cons: Based on your tolerance, it may require more suspension of disbelief than usual.

As the Covid-19 quarantine has ground many of us down to frazzled nubs of human beings, it’s perhaps not surprising that some sources are predicting that millions are going to say “screw it” this holiday weekend and hit the open road like it’s still 2019.

Well, maybe not exactly like 2019. Predictably, airline, rail and cruise ship bookings are way, way down. AAA estimates that when Labor Day closes the books on the summer of 2020, 97% of Americans’ travel will have been by car. Oil company executives are no doubt rubbing their bony, rapacious hands with glee as people in droves climb into cars and RVs to escape cabin fever.

There are just so many Netflix shows you can binge, boxed mac and cheese meals you can eat, and four grimey walls you can stare at before your brain and body rebel. It’s perfectly natural to want to mix things up, but hopefully people’s travel plans include prudent social distancing, mask-wearing and avoidance of maniacal killers.

Of course, there are plenty of homebodies who won’t be joining the fevered flight down America’s highways and byways. We all know the type (or maybe we are the type) -- hearth, home, family and familiar routines are reward enough. They (we) may even be relieved to be in quarantine, as there’s no pressure to leave the comforts of home.

And then there is that tiny fraction of homebodies who have built their comfortable surroundings on top of the bodies of unfortunate travelers and itinerants who have happened to wander into their lairs.

We tend to think of serial killers as predators in constant motion, stalking their prey and striking in deserted streets and victims’ homes. But a significant number of killers have been more like spiders patiently waiting for the next meal to stumble into their carefully crafted webs.

H.H. Holmes infamously built an ostensible hotel and “murder castle” near the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair, where people would check in, but never check out. Lavinia Fisher, reputed to be America’s first female serial killer, slyly interviewed travelers staying at the roadhouse she managed with her husband to determine if they were worth murdering.

Similarly, Tourist Trap is all about the spider waiting for the fly, but in this case at a dilapidated roadside attraction sitting on a forgotten stretch of road.

When one of the cars in a two-car caravan of vacationing young people gets a flat tire, Woody (Keith McDermott) goes looking for help, but stumbles upon a deserted gas station fronting a shabby roadside museum, “Slausen’s Lost Oasis,” that looks like it hasn’t seen a visitor in years.

The film quickly gets down to business. Woody becomes trapped in a room at the back of the gas station that seems to have life of its own. The door is locked as if by an invisible hand, and then suddenly grotesque mannequins are hurling themselves through windows and out of closets and even bottles on a shelf shoot out at the panicked youngster. As he tears at the door trying to get out, a hollow pipe shoots across the room like a missile, embedding itself in his back, and everything becomes eerily quiet.

Woody is having no fun in the "Lost Oasis" escape room.

When Woody doesn’t come back, the rest of the group -- Eileen, Becky, Molly and Jerry -- pile into Jerry’s jeep to search for their friend.

They too end up as the “Oasis,” where the Jeep mysteriously breaks down. They meet the proprietor, Mr. Slausen (Chuck Connors), who seems like a garden-variety hayseed eccentric, complaining to the kids about the decline of his business since the opening of a new expressway.

Slausen takes the group over to the museum, where they gape at a bizarre assortment of mannequins dressed in costume, including a western gunfighter, a civil war soldier, and even General George Armstrong Custer in his own special alcove. When the group splits up (never a good idea in a horror movie) -- Jerry (Jon Van Ness) going with Slausen to fix the jeep, Eileen (Robin Sherwood) taking off to the main house behind the museum in search of a phone, and Molly (Jocelyn Jones) and Becky (Tanya Roberts) staying behind with the creepy mannequins -- the trap is set.

Slausen gives the gang a tour of his house of horrors, er, wax museum.

Tourist Trap checks off all the elements of the traditional slasher: a group of fun-loving, naive kids; car failure; characters heading off by themselves in spite of warnings; a final girl; and of course, a masked homicidal maniac. But the film adds a surreal, sci-fi element to the proceedings that makes it stand out from the late ‘70s/early ‘80s pack of slashers.

Per form, healthy young people die in a variety of grisly ways at the hands of a batshit crazy killer, but the film adds a fever dream layer to the proceedings. Everyday objects can seemingly move around on their own volition. Nothing and no one can be trusted, including scarves, chairs, bottles, lead pipes… 

And then there are the mannequins. They’re everywhere in the museum and main house, sitting in parlors, standing in hallways, situated in every nook and cranny and seemingly preferring the shadows. Some are uncannily realistic, others generic department store, but by sheer numbers they up the creepiness factor by several orders of magnitude. Plus, some of them have the disconcerting ability to follow you with their eyes and drop their jaws and scream at climactic points. Director (and co-writer) David Schmoeller cleverly inserts live actors among the dummies in the shadows to keep the audience off-guard.

He also pays homage to films like Mystery of the Wax Museum and House of Wax with an intense scene located in a basement workshop. Jerry and Becky, who have been captured and tied up, watch helplessly as the madman, wearing a chilling mask and bizarrely dressed in ill-fitting formal attire complete with top hat, attends to an unidentified girl strapped to a table (apparently the vacationing youngsters aren’t the only ones who have fallen into the Lost Oasis trap). The maniac slathers plaster over the face of the terrified girl, all the while describing what will happen to her as the plaster hardens and dries. Yikes!

The Phantom of The Lost Oasis channels Lionel Atwill and Vincent Price.

Another scene -- the obligatory chase through the woods at night -- ups the weirdness factor considerably. It’s one thing to be chased by your standard ax-wielding maniac. But poor Molly gets a double dose of terror by being pursued and tormented by the masked weirdo and his friend, a detached mannequin’s head that has a demonic life of its own. It’s a ventriloquist act from Hell, and Molly is not amused.

As the film races to its climax and the ranks of the youngsters thin out, the ranks of the mannequins seem to multiply into a veritable army. They surround and almost smother the final girl, who is rapidly losing her mind.

Slausen seems to be everywhere too, giving aid, comfort and sympathy to the innocent youngsters even as they’re cut down one by one by a force they can’t begin to comprehend. At each juncture, he provides a piece of backstory -- a beautiful wife who died young; a troubled, jealous brother -- that provide clues to the insane mystery.

Slausen and his star attraction.

Oldsters like myself will no doubt take note of Chuck Connors’ presence in the film, which is a long way, chronologically and thematically, from his signature role as the upstanding Lucas McCain in The Rifleman TV series (1958-1963).

Jack Palance, among others, was reportedly offered the role before Connors. While a lot of fans apparently believe that Palance would have been a perfect fit, he was a very intimidating (not to mention urbane) figure, and from the very beginning would have been a bright red flag signalling danger ahead. Connors’ rough-hewn folksiness is not only a better fit for the backwoods setting, it lures the protagonists and the audience into a false sense of security and familiarity, making the ensuing developments all the more ominous and effective.

The other notable name is Tanya Roberts (Becky), who, shortly after Tourist Trap, joined the cast of Charlie’s Angels in the show’s last season. She leveraged that fame into becoming a Bond girl in A View to a Kill and securing a role in the cult favorite The Beastmaster before taking the acting escalator down to the direct-to-video market and the occasional TV appearance.

"Say hello to my little friend!"

This was director David Schmoeller’s first feature-length film. He would go on to other horror projects, most notably the very creepy Crawlspace with Klaus Kinski, and the franchise-spawning Puppet Master for Charles Band.

Tourist Trap is a low-budget cinematic attraction that has something for everyone (at least in the horror community): slasher fans will appreciate its concessions to and variations on the genre, and conventional horror fans will appreciate its masterful handling of surreal suspense and weird set pieces. Especially the mannequins, the creepy, creepy mannequins.

Where to find it: Tourist Trap is currently available on DVD, Blu-ray, and to rent; a new “VHS Retro Big Box collection” (Blu-ray & DVD) is due out in November, 2020.