Drive-In Dust Offs: THE EVIL (1978)

A haunted house film is a tough sell. No masked stalker, no creatures that eviscerate and certainly no zombies lurching down those shadowed halls. A single setting, a dark secret, a group of people terrified by something is usually your standard template, and even the best haunted house flick doth not stray from the formula. So the trick is to convince the viewers once you get them inside – something that the low on budget, high on conviction, and seldom talked about The Evil (1978) accomplishes admirably.

Barely distributed in May of ‘78 by Roger Corman’s New World Pictures, The Evil was made for $700,000 US and came and went very quickly. The filmmakers complained about the paltry distribution, but I’m sure Corman turned a profit somewhere down the line – he usually did. So from the modest budget, to the generic sounding title (why not just call it Horror Movie?) to the not exactly topical sub genre, The Evil had the cards stacked against it. This is a shame – while a lot of low budget films from this era continue to collect dust in the infernal delete bins of the genre, The Evil still has a sleek and shiny slipcover just waiting for the discriminating horror lover – not to mention a bizarre ending that polarizes viewers to this day.

Psychiatrist C.J. (Richard Crenna – Rambo) and his physician wife Caroline (Joanna Pettet – The Night of the Generals) have purchased a disarrayed manor as a future sight for a drug rehab clinic. The caretaker is supposed to meet them there the day of possession, but as we witness in the opening moments of the film, he opts instead to be incinerated by a blast from the furnace. So our heroes receive their exposition from the realtor, who explains that the property was once owned by Emilio Vargas (Donald ‘Galen’ Thompson – 1941, and also this film’s screenwriter), who built it atop unholy ground, which brought his apparent good fortune to an end. Needing help to get the manor in working condition, C.J. calls in ex students and ex patients for some help – including professor Raymond (Andrew Prine – Grizzly), his student Laurie (Mary Louise Weller – Animal House), among others.

Before long all hell breaks loose (literally) as C.J. unwittingly releases demonic, unseen forces from a crypt secured by an iron cross, locking him and his comrades inside the manor until they can figure out a way to destroy The Evil. All this and the ghost of Vargas too!

There are truly only a handful of great haunted house films. The Haunting (1963) comes to mind. So does The Legend of Hell House (1973), Burnt Offerings (1976), Poltergeist (1982), and a few others. Beyond that, it’s a descending slip n’ slide of jump scares, bad CGI, and missed opportunities. What the great ones all have in common are strong performances, a solid story, and a commitment to scare their audience. The Evil almost rises to their level, but the screenplay doesn’t quite have the scope – the backstory on Vargas is a great setup, but the motivation of the evil in the cellar (more on that shortly) is hazy at best, leaving a series of great moments rather than a cohesive whole.

But what if we free ourselves and forget about the story signposts that we supposedly have to check off and stringently obey? Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.  The Evil has so much else going for it that you won’t mind at all.

Creative deaths became a staple of supernatural horror after the popularity of The Omen (1976), and The Legacy (1978), all the way up to the hugely popular Final Destination films starting at the turn of the century. The Evil, bless its ragged little soul, has several: electrocution, strangulation, custodial barbeque, death by man’s best friend, more electrocution, sunken real estate, and a cross through the heart. All of this mayhem is strikingly shot by Mario DiLeo (Nightmares – ’83), who uses the shadowy corridors and vacant rooms as his canvas to marvelous effect. He really gives the film a shine that belies the budget.

So we have supernatural activity that falls in line with all the haunted house tropes – slamming shutters and doors, disembodied, cackling voices, an actual ghost, and of course, your requisite storm (as in ‘dark and…’). Being the ‘70s of course, that alone would seem quaint and unhip, so not only do the filmmakers add the decade’s go - to satanic element, they go right for the top (or is that the bottom?) and make The Evil…Satan himself.

You’re probably asking yourself why (and how) Satan would be enclosed in the cellar of a manor, trapped by a cross, barricading a door? Doesn’t he have, you know, a little more pull? Dunno. I didn’t write it – neither did Thompson. He wrote the antagonist as just a demonic force until the producers stepped in and wanted our protagonists to face the Devil himself for the ending. Which also points out what makes The Evil a little different – the focus is not on the paranormal as much as it is on good versus evil, and a belief or lack thereof. Our three main protagonists – C.J., Raymond, and Caroline, depict three points on the spectrum: C.J. being the atheist, Raymond wavering between science and the unseen, and Caroline resolute in her faith-based beliefs. This does add an interesting texture without bogging the story down in theological discussions - which is great, because what The Evil excels at is providing the viewer with some nasty jolts and surprises. For a deeper display of batty Catholicism, see the uber creepy The Sentinel (1977).

This is the only film I’ve seen directed by Gus Trikonis. He started out as an actor and dancer (West Side Story!) before making his way behind the camera. He made a name for himself directing well regarded exploitation flicks such as The Swinging Barmaids (1975) and Moonshine County Express (1977), and yields a vigorous touch with this material, never letting the pace flag. He also gets solid performances from the cast, especially our three leads, with Pettet acting as the fulcrum between Crenna’s stoic non belief and Prine’s exasperated uncertainty. Trikonis stages the deaths so well I would have liked to see him tackle more horror, but instead  went on to a successful career directing for TV, leaving charred corpses and shocking strangulations behind. Pity.

The ending has been the source of the most attention (and contention) thrust upon The Evil, for better or worse. Frankly, I don’t have a problem with it – in fact, I kind of love it. This is the ending that the producers insisted on, and they’re not wrong that it needed one – with the cast dwindled down, there had to be a final confrontation. So, this is what they came up with: Two of our protagonists make their way to the cellar, which houses a large, nondescript, blindingly white room. In this room, on a throne, all dressed in white like a deranged Man from Glad, sits Satan himself played by…Victor Buono, the portly actor known for The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965), and as known by pop culture fans, King Tut on the Batman TV series. An odd choice? Sure, but so is the entire premise – Satan is trapped in the cellar of a run down manor, guarded by a ghost, with nothing but a cross stopping him from world domination. I won’t spoil the outcome, but it needs to be said that the scene doesn’t fit the rest of the film at all – yet it works, due to its resolute weirdness and Buono’s mic drop, lip smacking cameo.

The haunted house sub genre is so small and insular, that each and every entry is closely scrutinized and compared to the landmark few. Which is fine. But keep in mind that in between your Hauntings and your Poltergeists, someone has to keep the lights on, the grounds kept, and the crypt secured, if necessary.

The Evil is available (along with Twice Dead) on DVD as part of the Roger Corman Double Feature Cult Classics Collection.