“Fright
Night” is a really fun, often chilling Halloween-styled episode from the third
and final season of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery (1969 – 1973).
In
this story directed by Jeff Corey, a writer named Rick (Stuart Whitman) and his
wife, Leona (Barbara Anderson) move into the home of Rick’s deceased cousin,
Zachariah Ogilvy (Alan Napier).
The
house is completely furnished, but the former housekeeper, Mrs. Patience, won’t
stay on the premises after dark. She also informs the couple that Ogilvy only
left one instruction about their ownership of the home. Rick and his wife are not -- for any reason
-- to move the crate in the attic.
“That trunk is not to be moved, and under no
circumstances is it to be opened. Someone
will come for it,” she insists.
Rick
and Leona settle in at “this very strange
house,” but notice something odd.
One night, all the crickets stop making noises simultaneously, as if
silenced by an unnatural force.
And
on another night, Leona is certain she feels the presence of somebody in bed
beside her, despite the fact that Rick is typing away in the attic. An indentation on his pillow suggests that
Leona is not wrong.
Then,
one morning, Rick finds that a Satanic prayer has been typed (all-caps…) onto
his manuscript. As Rick and Leona grow more accusatory about who may have typed
that particular incantation, Halloween arrives -- the one night of the year the dead can walk the Earth -- and Zachariah
returns for his crate.
A
few simple genre ingredients and a strong 1970s vibe transmit a sense of menace
in “Fright Night.” The narrative makes extensive
use of the haunted house trope, which is often a cover, at least subconsciously,
for stories of marriages in trouble.
Consider
the paradigm: happy couples move into a new house together, but the honeymoon
is over, literally and metaphorically. Despite their new locale, their
relationship disintegrates. Is it their
fault, or the house’s?
“Fright
Night” follows that established pattern, but not too aggressively, and focuses
on some good, if somewhat familiar horror touches. For instance, the audience
is treated to fearsome shots of a portrait -- Zachariah’s -- that seems to
stare right through you, and whose eyes glow bright red at one juncture.
Meanwhile,
the crate in the attic seems to move frequently of its own volition. At one
point, the trunk is opened, and psychedelic lights and shadows dance across the
attic wall, playing out some ancient passion play about demonic
possession.
You’ve
probably seen horror stories of this type many times before, but the direction
is good enough that a tense atmosphere is maintained nonetheless. For instance,
the first time we see the dusty attic, Corey’s camera tracks across the room at
floor level, going slowly past empty chairs and wooden floor boards. The shot
creates a sense of menace about what will be found there, in a place that has
gone untouched for some time. And the shots of the crate veritably bouncing on
the floor -- demanding attention -- similarly, increases one’s sense of terror
about the narrative’s set-up.
Alas,
much of the carefully-constructed horror is diffused when old Ogilvy shows up
at the door on Halloween night to pick up his luggage. The visual presentation
of this old crone is pure pulp comic-book, and in some sense ruins the
atmosphere of dread that the episode seems to have been working towards.
“Beyond
the grave there is no innocence,” one disembodied voice reports in the
episode, and that seems abundantly true about “Fright Night.” The episode generates suspense well, but
seems frightfully outdated with the final appearance by its un-scary ghoul, who
indeed resembles a trick-and-treater more than specter from beyond the grave.
The
episode’s final bite -- that Rick and Leona have put the house on the market
because Cousin Zachary promises to re-appear next Halloween for another crate
-- is also anemic. So “Fright Night”
starts strong, due in part to its 1970s cinematography, but gradually loses its
impact.
It's funny to report, but the scenes that are so scary here involve those with no make-up or visual effects whatsoever, of that damn crate appearing where it has no right to be (and even after it has been locked away in the shed...).
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