That ‘70s Sci-Fi TV Movie #3: Night Slaves

Now Playing: Night Slaves (1970)

Pros: Establishes an eerie, mysterious atmosphere in the first half; Solid cast headed by James Franciscus and Lee Grant
Cons: Reveal comes too early in the film and dissipates the suspense

James Franciscus plays Clay Howard, a business owner who is tired of the rat race and sells his share of the business to his partner. Shortly afterward he is involved in a car accident in which two people are killed and he is seriously injured, requiring a steel plate for his damaged skull.

Wracked with guilt, Clay takes off on a road trip with his wife Marjorie (Lee Grant), where they wind up at a bed and breakfast in a sleepy (in more ways than one) rural California town. That night, waking up from a nightmare, he goes to the window for some fresh air, where he sees crowds of people being herded onto trucks on the street below. He is startled to find his wife gone, and a mysterious girl (Tisha Sterling) sitting in the room, grinning from ear to ear. When the girl tells Clay that his wife is among those being loaded onto the trucks, he rushes downstairs to find out what’s going on. Marj seems to be in a trance, and when he tries to get her to come back with him, he’s yanked off the truck by one of the “handlers.”

Still in his pajamas, Clay wanders over to the Sheriff’s office, but finds the place completely deserted. The whole town seems to have been hauled off to some unknown destination in the middle of the night.

"They sure roll up the sidewalks early in this town!"

Clay collapses back into bed. When morning comes and Marj is back with no memory of the night’s events, Clay almost convinces himself it was a bad dream, until he notices that his wife’s dress is covered in burrs and her shoes are filthy.

Now in full investigator mode, Clay visits the Sheriff (Leslie Nielsen), who listens politely but skeptically. After snooping around some more, he finds one of the trucks that carted off the townspeople, and discovers that the tires and rims are covered in mud and the same burrs he found on his wife’s dress.

As he snoops around, he asks everyone he meets how they’re sleeping, to his wife’s great embarrassment. Rather than clearing out of town, Clay decides he has to get to the bottom of the mystery, and decides to stay for a few more days. Clay’s sudden obsession is not helping his marriage, which is already dangling by a thread. To add to the mystery, a nondescript townie (Andrew Prine) seems to have taken an interest in Clay and is shadowing him.

The next night, Clay is on guard in their room. When the trucks come again, Marj falls into a trance and Clay has to physically restrain her from joining the sleepwalking crowd. Men suddenly appear in the room and take Marj by force.

Clay runs after the truck but can't catch it. The girl appears again and starts talking cryptically to Clay about her being an “engineer” who isn't allowed to love or have children. Clay thinks she’s nuts until she shows him something that causes him to doubt his own sanity.

The townspeople are ready for the fall hayseed ride.

I first saw Night Slaves around the time of its debut, possibly the first broadcast or in the initial re-run (I was a big fan of ABC’s Movie of the Week). The concept of a whole town of sleep-walking residents being carted off in the middle of the night for some mysterious purpose was intriguing, to say the least.

Years later, possibly due to my own sleep problems, the story line popped into my head (although I had completely forgotten the movie’s title or who was in it). From time to time I would search the web to try to come up with the title, to no avail. Finally, a couple of years ago (and with a lot more time on my hands), I submitted what little I remembered of the plot to the experts on The Classic Horror Film Board, and sure enough, Night Slaves was the immediate reply. (Duh!)

As is often the case with these things, time has a way of stripping the luster off the elusive gems of your youth. It didn’t help that when I did get around to seeing it again, my only options at the time were blurry, muddy VHS transfers on YouTube and gray market DVD-R. (There are a couple of watchable copies on YouTube now.)

WARNING: POSSIBLE SPOILER AHEAD IF YOU KNOW YOUR ‘50S SCI-FI

Night Slaves definitely draws its inspiration from an early ‘50s sci-fi movie that, if I were to name it, and you knew anything about the plot, would be an obvious spoiler. (Okay, I’ll give you a hint: Ray Bradbury is credited as a co-writer.)

The ‘50s movie maintained an uncanny, spooky atmosphere throughout the film, and had the means to create a sense of awe and wonder with the climactic reveal. On the other hand, Night Slaves’ paltry budget precluded the sort of special effects that gave its predecessor such visual and dramatic flair. Night Slaves only has its high concept to sustain it, and ends up sputtering to a less than awesome conclusion.

As I pointed out in my review of The Love War, TV movies of the ‘70s were cranked out like B movies of the studio era, with small budgets and tight schedules. Sci-fi and horror-themed TV projects had to make due with leftover sets, familiar, easily accessible locations, and the barest of effects budgets. So concept, characters and plot were everything, and in the right hands, a small budget TV movie could generate big chills.

Night Slaves sets up a spooky atmosphere in its first half, but mitigates it to an extent with a soap-opera-ish love triangle involving Clay, Marjorie and the crazy girl. And then there’s the reveal that comes way too early in the film, further dissipating the suspense.

Clay can't believe there's no Starbucks in town.

But don’t let that deter you too much. Night Slaves’ plot is sneakily subversive, especially considering that it was broadcast at the height of Cesar Chavez’s national fame leading the United Farm Workers on behalf of exploited migrant workers. In that context, Night Slaves jolts with its depiction of middle-class white people being herded onto trucks and hauled off to do some mysterious involuntary labor.

David Deal, in his book Television Fright Films of the 1970s, also appreciated the film’s counter-culture message, but from another angle:

“It is significant that Clay Howard wants to escape the slavery of materialism only to discover a people unknowingly enslaved to a much more devious master. It is also significant that he is immune from this slavery, explained by the metal plate in his head, but which could also be construed as his improved mindset.” [David Deal, Television Fright Films of the 1970s, McFarland, 2007, p. 109]

James Franciscus was a constant presence on TV from the late ‘50s through the ‘70s. His first recurring role was as a police detective on the gritty urban crime drama The Naked City (1959 - 1961). Through the ‘60s he did mostly guest appearances on shows like Wagon Train, The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents. His career peaked in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s with appearances in several feature films including The Valley of Gwangi (1969), Marooned (1969) and Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970), and a starring role as a blind private investigator in the short-lived TV series Longstreet (1971-72).

Trained in the theater, Lee Grant’s first break-out role came in Detective Story (1951; starring Kirk Douglas), for which she earned a best supporting actress Academy Award nomination (she would later go on to win the award for Shampoo in 1975). Unfortunately her career suffered a setback when she was caught up in the McCarthy-era Hollywood blacklist, but by the mid-60s she was back, winning an Emmy for her role in the hugely popular TV show Peyton Place (1966-67). In addition to Night Slaves, Grant appeared with James Franciscus in Marooned, playing an astronaut’s wife.

Marj and Clay ponder what they're going to say in their Yelp review.

Director Ted Post was already a 20-year veteran when he made Night Slaves. Post directed episodes for some of the most beloved, classic series of all-time, including Perry Mason, Route 66, Wagon Train, Rawhide, The Twilight Zone and Columbo. Just after Night Slaves he directed Bing Crosby in Dr. Cook’s Garden, a TV movie cult favorite. His feature films include Hang ‘Em High and Magnum Force (with Clint Eastwood), and Beneath the Planet of the Apes (with James Franciscus).

Where to find it: Streaming

Leslie Nielsen, 1926 - 2010

Dark Intruder (1965)

I love the goofball Leslie Nielsen from Airplane and the Naked Gun and Scary Movie franchises. I'm also old enough to remember and appreciate his first Hollywood incarnation as a leading man and dramatic actor. If he had done nothing else but the role of J. J. Adams, commander of the C-57D Starcruiser in Forbidden Planet, I would still remember him fondly.

Fortunately, Nielsen left a long, rich legacy of acting roles -- both dramatic and comedic, in film and TV -- that we can enjoy for many years to come. Dark Intruder, a failed TV pilot turned theatrical release, highlights Nielsen's ability to pull off the leading role of an insouciant, devil-may-care playboy in a dark, atmospheric horror thriller.

Dark Intruder is lean and thrillingly mean at a spare 58 minutes (reflecting its origins as a TV pilot for a series that was to be called "The Black Cloak"). The title sequence strikes just the right note with suitably haunting music and effective graphics of menacing eyes peering out from a thick blanket of fog. After establishing the 1890s San Francisco setting, Intruder quickly gets down to business: a woman in a nurse's uniform runs screaming from an upstairs apartment, fleeing down inky black alleyways with an unseen, growling thing close on her heels. We see the thing in silhouette, a human shape in hat and cape, hunched over the unfortunate woman. Moments later, we see her dead at the foot of a wrought iron gate with claw-like marks on her face. The camera pans to a carving of some misshapen totem dropped next to the body. The scene is reminiscent of (perhaps even a tribute to) House of Wax (1953) with its own memorable misshapen, yet obviously human, thing stalking young women down shadowy, turn-of-the-century streets.

The scene quickly shifts to the lush apartment of our protagonist, occult expert Brett Kingsford (Nielsen), who is eyeing newspaper headlines about the latest murder. Kingsford, dressed in an elegant smoking jacket and nursing a hangover, reluctantly greets an opulent young lady friend, Evelyn Lang (Judi Meredith), who breezes in carrying the latest purchases for her upcoming wedding to Kingsford's best friend. Here we have a humorous, light-hearted few minutes of exposition, with Evelyn baiting Kingsford, who can barely hide his exasperation. The contrast with the first grim couple of minutes couldn't be more jarring, and screenwriter Barré Lyndon (The Lodger, 1944; The War of the Worlds, 1953) skillfully sets up the movie (and the hopeful TV series) while letting Nielsen and Meredith exercise their comedic chops. Meredith especially is so breezily good that the abrupt change in mood can easily be forgiven (see the clip below).

Evelyn (Meredith) briefly stops to remark on the motto that hangs prominently in Kingsford's apartment: Omnia Exeunt in Mysterium ("Everything Ends in Mystery"). The light mood quickly turns dark again as the protagonists deal with more murders, puzzle over the demon carvings left next to each corpse, and discover a connection to a mid-nineteenth century archaeological expedition (shades of the Mummy!) To add to the mystery, Evelyn's bridegroom-to-be and Kingsford's friend Robert  (played with melancholic intensity by Mark Richman) begins having spells, and worries that he may have something to do with the grisly string of murders. In quick succession, Kingsford gets a lesson about Sumerian demons from an oriental mystic (Peter Brocco), and has his fortune told by a hooded soothsayer, Prof. Malaki (played by a completely unrecognizable Werner Klemperer of Hogan's Heroes fame). He soon intuits a diabolic pattern behind the serial killings.

The other star of Dark Intruder is John F. Warren's rich black and white photography, which, coupled with the detailed Victorian production design, lends a big budget feel to the proceedings. After filming a number of low-budget films in the 1950s (Daughter of Dr. Jekyll, The Colossus of New York, The Cosmic Man), Warren spent the '60s exclusively lensing TV shows, including this failed pilot. Veteran TV director Harvey Hart maintains a quick, deft pace, and adds a number of unusual angle shots to keep the viewers' interest. Alas, Intruder doesn't always rise above its humble TV origins. Several times Hart makes the mistake of showing the shadowy murderer's claw-like hands, which have a cheap costume-shop-latex-rubber look to them. And most of the music, including Evelyn's perky theme, sounds like schlock TV stock. Rod Serling fans might blame the movie's deficiencies on producer Jack Laird, the man who later stepped in to produce a portion of Serling's Night Gallery series. Laird drove Serling to distraction by insisting on inserting painfully unfunny gag segments between the tales.

Alternately amusing and chilling, Dark Intruder is several orders of magnitude better than the TV fare of its day, and a worthy part of Leslie Nielsen's bountiful acting legacy. A good quality DVD copy is available from Sinister Cinema.