BY TODD GARBARINI
In
the history of cinema, it is a known fact that the producers and director of a
film all have their own opinions about what a finished film should be titled.
Movies generally use a working title which rarely ends up being used upon
release. Even the film’s own writer invariably believes that it is his/her
title that should be used with consideration given to no one else. One can only
wonder how Steven Spielberg’s E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (1982) would
have fared at the box office had it been marketed under its original title, A
Boy’s Life. Ridley Scott’s initially panned and now revered science fiction
masterpiece Blade Runner (1982), its title taken from a 1979 novella by
William S. Burroughs, would have found difficulty being displayed on movie
marquees had it gone by the jaw-breaking title of the 1968 Philip K. Dick novel
upon which it was based, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
The
Satanists was one of the
original titles considered for the film that would eventually be called Let’s
Scare Jessica to Death, a beautifully understated piece of filmmaking shot
in October 1970 in Connecticut and released in New York on Friday, August 27, 1971
two months prior to a rollout in suburban theatres and drive-ins and its
eventual ABC-TV premiere on Friday, March 11, 1977 before becoming a staple of
late-night television airings. The 1970s are a by-gone era which followed the
end of the studio system of contracts and obligations and gave way to films
that defined originality of thought and style, permitting both novice and
seasoned filmmakers the freedom to make the kinds of films that they wanted to for
distribution through major studios. This maneuver was driven by two factors: the
desire to make money and film studios not knowing what would bring in the
crowds.
Let’s
Scare Jessica to Death
was coined by executives at Paramount Pictures and the title’s aggressiveness
suggests far more action that the film actually delivers. Jessica is far
from a cinematic triumph. However, when it succeeds it is evocative of the
creepiness of Herk Harvey’s Carnival of Souls (1962) both in its use of
elliptical narrative storytelling and mood and also benefits from a thematic
touch befitting of an episode of Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone. The
titular heroine is portrayed by veteran actress Zohra Lampert of Splendor in
the Grass (1961) fame in a nuanced performance of a woman recently released
from a sanitarium (when was the last time you heard that word?). The
start of the film finds her motionless in a boat, her voiceover indicating to
the audience that something awful has happened. The film proceeds in flashback
with Jessica preparing for a quiet but charmed life in the country with her
husband Duncan (Barton Heyman who played Dr. Klein in 1973’s The Exorcist)
and their mutual friend Woody (Kevin O’Connor) in an immense old manse sporting
a turret. A brief stop at a cemetery finds Jessica hearing strange whispers
while garnering tombstone rubbings on tracing paper and later displaying them
in the room she shares with Duncan. Emily (Mariclare Costello) is an odd house
squatter coming on the heels of the Free Love Sixties, an itinerant musician
who befriends the new homeowners and encourages them to perform a séance during
which Jessica continues to hear voices in her head. They persuade Emily to stay
and she is thrilled. Unbeknownst to them, Emily has stayed for much longer than
any of them are aware, and her image and likeness is seen in an old framed
photograph Jessica finds in an afternoon sojourn into the largest attic I’ve
ever seen. A local antique store dealer informs them that the house used to
belong to Abigail Bishop, a woman who drowned in the lake near the house 90
years earlier. Disturbed by this information, Jessica begins to experience
things that make her question her sanity again. It isn’t long before we realize
that Emily has made a deep impression so-to-speak on the townsfolk who all
stand around with bandages around their necks, covering deep scratches.
Inspired
by the 1898 novella The Turn of the Screw by Henry James (which itself
inspired the wonderful 1961 Jack Clayton adaptation The Innocents with
Deborah Kerr), Jessica thrives on moments where the audience is forced
to ask themselves if what is happening is really happening, or if it’s only
happening in Jessica’s mind. The film benefits from a slow and deliberate build-up
of mood and atmosphere. Orville Stoeber provides a wonderfully creepy score
which, like Stephen Lawrence’s brilliant music for Alfred Sole’s masterful Communion/Alice,
Sweet Alice/Holy Terror (1977) is unfortunately still not available on a
soundtrack album. Cinematographer Robert M. Baldwin bathes the film frame in
autumn foliage and employs the use of slow camera moves to enhance the film’s
overall mood. The film is far too slow for today’s audiences, but for those
with a mindset for 1970s horror, Jessica fits the bill.
Jessica is one of those titles I have been
wanting to see in a much-needed home video upgrade. A bare-bones DVD was
released by Paramount Home Video in 2006 and now the amazing people at Scream
Factory (an imprint of Shout! Factory) have released the film on Blu-ray with a
considerably improved transfer. There is a welcome feature-length audio
commentary with producer Bill Badalato and director John Hancock, who is arguably
best known for the Robert De Niro vehicle Bang the Drum Slowly (1973). They
offer many memories about the making of the film, one of which is Mr. Hancock’s
recollection of lifting the voiceover device of Eleanor Lance (Julie Harris) in
Robert Wise’s The Haunting (1963) to make the audience identity more
with Jessica. The other extras include:
Art
Saved My Life: Orville Stoeber on Let’s Scare Jessica to Death – this runs 16:25 and consists of an
interview with the film’s music composer who describes growing up all over the
world and how his family influenced his musical impressions.
Scare
Tactics: Reflections on a Seventies Horror Classic – runs 23:44 and is an interview with author
and critic Kim Newman who explains why Jessica is his favorite horror
film.
She
Walks These Hills: Let’s Scare Jessica to Death Locations Then and Now – this runs 6:48 and takes us to the
First Church Cemetery in East Haddam, CT; the “Selden III†Hadlyme Ferry in
Chester, CT; the Pattaconk Reservoir in Chester, CT; the Bishop House in Old
Saybrook, which is beautiful but completely dilapidated, even more so than when
I visited it in 2006. I really wish that someone would buy it and restore it; and
Main Street and Maple Street in Chester, CT (Devoe Paints was still there in
2006, but gone now and the building is for rent).
Theatrical
trailer – a very creepy promo for the film that runs three minutes
Television
spot – this runs 53 seconds and, like the theatrical trailer, gives away much
of the plot while trying to be creepy.
Radio
spot – this is derived from the mini record that was dispatched to radio
stations to play over the air and runs 60 seconds. Creepy!
Thankfully,
the film’s creepy original key art has been reinstated for the cover of the
Blu-ray, unlike the 2006 DVD cover.
Jessica is a film that is bathed in moments of
eeriness and supernatural detachment thanks in part to screenwriter Lee
Kalcheim whose former student, film director Bryan Norton, tipped his hat to
the film by making the movie’s title the byline for his nifty short film Penny
Dreadful (2005).
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