Article: The Fantastic Horror Double Bill: 1975
A key element of cinema that is often overlooked, and it's perhaps the most obvious one, is the audience itself. Without an audience there would be no cinema, there would be no super heroes, ghouls, and ghosties. If not for us, the viewer, there'd simply have been no need for film. The thing is, we demand stories and theater to help us understand our own lives, to gain other perspectives, and to vicariously live through the madcap lives of comedians, lovers, or yes, even victims.
At some point we were each introduced to film for the first time. Unencumbered by a history, without expectations, and open to all and everything we would see, there was a exact moment when we first opened our eyes and allowed ourselves to fall into the wild imaginations of, often, demented filmmakers. This article, and the ones that follow, are primarily about that moment.
We must accept that the first time is unique. You can't have it again, though you might well spend the rest of your days trying to relive it, to capture what made it special. You might even get close every now and again, and find yourself accepting the framed images in a place deep inside your head and chest. It's a worthy goal, because those first excitements are some of the greatest highs. This article focuses in on the first time for many of us, the first time we were scared to the point of not being able to sleep, of having our fragile little worlds brought into question, of the moment when we were forced to ask questions about the safe little world we were cocooned in.
Horror films are all about that moment, the feelings they arouse, the scares, chills, and anticipation. Even today, enjoying a horror film is as much about when you watch it, how you're feeling when the film starts, and the circumstances under which it's watched. But that first time, that was something special, because while today your mind can rationalize, compare and contrast, and you (hopefully) have a better grip on reality - young minds are pliable, accepting, naive, and frankly,
they want to believe.
Modern day horror fans might not appreciate this, because they have it easy. Watching films today is a pretty simple process. You learn about a film by reading Internet stories, click on a link and order it, and within days it arrives on your doormat – in a nice new sparkling uncut widescreen print. Then, whenever you feel like it, you pop it in the player, pausing whenever you want, viewing over and over with never a drop in quality. Yeah, it’s all quite simple.
But this ease of access, this lack of having to wait, can rob us of some of the most exciting moments, because movies are involving, and it's not just about what happens on the screen, it also relies on our own emotional attachment. Horror films aren't about having complete control, quite the opposite, they're about having no control, and giving of yourself. For all the delights of the modern age, it just isn't the same - and I'll go as far as to say not as good - as it was way back when. Everything has pluses and minuses, and the minuses have robbed us of the
event.
Contrast this with life in the 70’s. Going back to the 1970’s isn’t as simple as examining the clothes, listening to the music, and reading about the social upheavals. You also have to understand that the way we consumed films was very different too. There were no DVD’s, nor even Video Cassette Recorders (VCR). In order to watch films you were at the mercy of cinema releases and television broadcasts. And those television schedules were very important, because without the ability to record shows, it was a matter of living in the moment. You, along with everyone else watching, had to be sitting there, at the exact same time, seeing the exact same thing. Watching television was something of an event within itself, yes, an appointment with fear.
Back in the day, recording something meant using home cassette players, taping the sound for later playback (with all the naff, crackle, and pop of inferior TV speakers and poor reception.) Or, for a select few, you could rent super-8 releases of the classics – every one cut to the length of a single reel (a few came on two reels), which meant the running time was around 15 minutes for the entire thing!
But before you think we had it hard and times were tough, let's acknowledge that we got something more important than freeze frame and mail order, we got priceless memories of a time when the value of things was measured in units other than pounds, shillings, and pence - and waiting wasn't considered a crime against humanity. For many of us, the thrill of catching sight of a classic horror on television, the anticipation, the excitement, will stay with us forever. I’d not have a love of horror without those moments, and they’re ones I revisit every time a Lugosi or Karloff classic is viewed at home. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
My story begins in 1975, and I wasn’t yet a teenager. It’s almost as though a love of horror films is born into people, it’s just that some nurture it, and others let it go. I never thought much about films then, I simply knew what I liked, and I liked horror films. My love was fed by classic magazines such as Monster Mag (I still have a complete set of these, including Issue 2!) and the stories of older brothers who were able to sneak into theaters to catch the latest cinematic offerings.
Truth is, much of what was passed around was word of mouth, myths of a dark cinema. We had many and varied people to thank for our love of horror films, from magazines that reproduced gruesome stills, to friends in school playgrounds who would tell tales, often heard third-hand, of what had been in this or that feature. And that ignores the film makers and technicians whose skill went into creating the films that had us enthralled.
This series of articles is something of a tip of the hat to a group of unheralded people who never get the kudos they deserve, people who held us in their hands and controlled entire families, who told us when to eat, sleep, and what qualified for chit-chat in school playgrounds: yeah that's right, I'm talking about those anonymous television schedulers.
More specifically it's about a moment in time, a planned event that would infuse many of us with a reason to wish our life away until the weekend, when we could indulge once more. You see, in 1975 something wonderful happened – the BBC decided it would be a good idea to broadcast horror double bills. Saturday nights in August were never going to be the same again. Little did these faceless people know, they were creating life long obsessions for many. As mentioned earlier, these weren’t simply TV showings as we get today, these were
events. Late night broadcasts were, for many of us, the only way to see the titles we’d been reading about, and seeing pictures of. Thanks to the BBC, and understanding parents, the magic of movies invaded our minds in a genius piece of scheduled hypnosis.
Of course, over time memories get hazy. Before considering writing this article I tried to remember the films I’d seen – a sprinkle of Hammer, the Universals, some classic Sci-Fi. Research confirms that while I did see these titles, they were often many years apart. The truth is these double-bills ran from 1975 through 1981. Sometimes starting in June, other times July, but most often in August. For six years I was treated to films, and memories, that I would cherish forever.
As I went through the schedules I was surprised that some of the films I recall seeing weren’t actually on the lists. However, with further digging, I came across why this was the case – you see, ITV and Channel 4 tried their own hand at double bills. But it’s the BBC schedule that seems to have driven it, and has most stuck in my mind.
So, let’s relive each year in turn, looking at the movies that were shown. Some of the films are perennials, while others seem to have sunk without trace. For those who really want to relive memories I’ll provide links so you can replay these famed double bills in your own home. What better way could there be to frighten your own kids into being horror movie fans?
The Horror Double BillIt’s the little details that get lost in your memories. For instance, I tend to lump all the Hammer films together, and can seem to recall watching Universal films at around the same time. The truth was, when the concept of the Horror Double Bill was introduced it was a pretty ramshackle affair. Disparate films were thrown together, confusing and exciting an impressionable mind.
The Double Bill schedules ran for six years, between 1975 and 1981, and each year was given a broad theme, some specific, others generic in nature. The concept was revisited, this time with a single film a night, in 1987 with another fondly remembered and impressive line up. These themes were:
1975: Fantastic Double Bill
1976: Masters of Terror
1977: Dracula, Frankenstein, and Friends
1978: Monster Double Bill
1979: Masters of Terror
1980: Horror Double Bill
1981: Horror Double Bill
1987: Hammer - The Studio That Dripped Blood
I can’t say I watched every film during its original run, but I can lay claim to having wanted to. When it comes to ITV showings that was no easy task, the films were shown after the Ten O’Clock news on Monday nights, so interfered with school!
Let’s start at the beginning then and travel all the way back to Saturday, 2nd August, 1975. It was 10:55pm, the night had drawn in, the parents had gone to bed leaving you to sit up alone to be frightened out of your mind by the first of what would be six glorious years of fright. There’s a slight wind, and the house is settling with creeks and groans, and if you’re not mistaken the door handle might have moved ever so slightly. You reposition your chair so you don’t have your back to the door, turn down the volume to wrap yourself in a private viewing cocoon, and the stiff BBC presenter announces……
1975: Fantastic Double BillI knew nothing then. I had some magazines, I'd done some reading, and most of all I'd peered at stills in books and magazines for a long time. But I'd never actually
experienced the films in question. The double-bill seasons were going to present me with a host of films for the first time. I can't say I was prepared for it, because at this point I wouldn't have known how to do so. But with parents probably being a tad irresponsible - or perhaps because of my whining - I hunkered down for some horror.
Saturday 2 August 197522.55.00.05: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
00.05-01.20: Quatermass II
Looking back it is somehow heartening to know that the very first film to kick off this cycle was a silent classic,
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. That the opening film was a title too many people overlook today (they’re aware of it, but don’t make it a priority to view) is something of a revelation. Perhaps the BBC were hinting that the viewers were, themselves, somnambulists? Caligari is a film made for mailable minds, with its bent streets, topsy-turvy houses, and an odd group of characters. You don't question such things as a kid, you already know every grown up is odd. This film is constantly off-kilter, and there's no better way to start a career in film watching.
Following this was Quatermass 2, a classic I still enjoy today. Quatermass was familiar to television viewers, but these Hammer cinema releases were less well known. Strangely large parts of this movie were filmed near where I lived, on Shell Haven. I could still see the huge drums in the distance (on a good day). I could well believe they contained tentacled creatures, or dangerous black sludge. The new town I lived in was exactly like the one shown in the film, and the people as peculiar. This was a little too close for comfort.
German Expressionism with a heady mix of black and white Hammer, it’s hard to believe it could get any better than that – but it did. After this first night I had all the ingredients a young mind needed to concoct demons at the top of the stairs (or monsters stumbling down the side of a huge vat), and to instill a fear of falling asleep should I wake in the crazy twisted world of Decla’s classic!
Saturday 9 August 197522.45-00.00 The Tell Tale Heart
00.00-01.20 The Premature Burial
The following week things changed considerably. We moved away from Hammer and silent cinema, and instead dug into the little seen
The Tell Tale Heart, directed by Ernest Morris. This, of course, is one of the classic Poe tales, made and remade many times. The opening weeks of the double bills had already been a crash course in the art of cinema, the beauty of the silents, and now a literary giant of the macabre. There's no better way to start.
It was coupled with another Poe story,
The Premature Burial. This time Roger Corman, and his famous AIP, got their time in the spotlight. That the title chosen wasn’t one of the Price films is a bit surprising, but we can’t get into the minds of the decision makers. Regardless, Ray Milland puts in a great performance, and for impressionable minds the sense of claustrophobia the film created was palpable. The room would shrink, breathing become heavier, and the fear of dying…. yet staying alive, eased its way into the back of your mind. You probably still worry about it today!
Saturday 16 August NOAH'S ARK (1929)
ONE MILLION BC (1940)
Sadly I don’t know the times these were scheduled, but we hopefully can let this little detail pass us by. By the third week in this double bill cycle, with everything from silent’s, to Hammer, to AIP and onward having been primed, it was time to introduce two other curiosities.
Noah’s Ark is, on reflection, a strange choice – but hey, things were different then. This was a film made on the cusp of sound, with the sound elements added later. It’s a biblical tale, but let’s face it, the Bible has provided horror filmmakers with much material over the years. But was it horror? Well, it’s all a matter of debate, really. Certainly after the previous weeks entries one might have expected more.
And if it’s more I wanted, how about some more Raquel Welch? Well, sadly that’s not what I got. This was the 1940 version of the film, with Tumak, member of a prehistoric Rock tribe, exiled and in search of peace. With a cast playing parts named: “Rock Person” it’s likely you were in this one for the spectacle. Frankly, I’d imagine I was a little disappointed by this weeks entries, and now they seem idiosyncratic to say the least.
Saturday 23 August 197522.40-00.05 This Island Earth
00.05-01.25 Barbarella
Having sat through a biblical story, followed by the wrong version of a film I very much wanted to see, the following week was met with heavy expectation. Not to worry though, because the opening film this week was a corker, and one of my favorites to this day.
This Island Earth is a sci-fi movie that belongs in everyone’s collection. Like many films of the time it doesn’t have the budget to stretch beyond painted backdrops, and a little bit of monster at the end – the rest is a familiar human drama. But boy, what a monster! Distant planets didn't seem so distant after this.
The second film must have seemed rather strange and bizarre to a youthful mind. Barbarella is chock full of a 60’s sensibility (for better or worse), and along with that there is miles and miles of Jane Fonda. Wowza! To a pre-teen mind she was almost naked in every shot, and the bizarre film making techniques just added to the other-worldliness. Barbarella ruled, and I caught up with it at a local cinema later in life. This was a different outer space, light years ahead than even
This Island Earth. As soon as you get to grips with something, it changes. As it would always be.
Saturday 30 August 197522.55-00.05 The Cat and The Canary
00.05-01.25 The Comedy of Terrors
Who says horror always has to be frightening? Well, I prefer it that way, but on 30th August 1975 we were treated to a horror/comedy double bill. Despite there being a wonderful silent movie version of
The Cat and the Canary out there, it was the Bob Hope talkie that got the nod here. Haunted houses have been a staple of the genre since it began, and with Hope on board we were never going to get too scared. However, it was easy to pick up on the nervous laughter at work here, Hope was playing it for laughs, but that was mostly a cover for his own - and our own - cowardice.
This was followed by
The Comedy of Terrors, another AIP film. This time we got to see Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, Basil Rathbone, and Boris Karloff mixing it in the same film. The pedigree of this one is incredible when you consider Jacques Tourneur was directing, and Richard Matheson had done the writing. Not the scariest film out there, but in retrospect, a fine introduction to everything good in the genre.
Saturday 6 September 197522.35-00.00 The Beast With Five Fingers
00.00-01.20 The Maze
Oh, too soon it’s September, and it was time for this great experiment to come to a close. When you had to wait a whole week for the Radio Times to come out and inform you what was on (as we did back then, no Internet, and no weekly guides free with newspapers!) you didn’t even know something good was going to finish until it vanished from the schedule the following week and it was too late to plan your mourning.
Still, this final weekend brought two more films to the fore. First up,
The Beast With Five Fingers, regarded by many to be one the better takes on the Hands of Orlac tale. Crawling hands have never been so scary as it is here, and the DVD for it has taken far too long to arrive.
The second film is an odd one.
The Maze isn’t seen much these days. It tells the tale of a strange maze on the side of a Scottish castle, and the sudden aging of a fiancée during a visit. Directed by William Cameron Menzies, from a story based on a novel by Maurice Sandoz, it seems largely forgotten now.
Concluding a Dream Within a DreamAnd there you have it, the first set of double-bill’s shown by the BBC. It all started in 1975, and we got a silent film, some Hammer, a sprinkle of AIP and even some comedy and dinosaurs along the way. As a young kid my eyes had been opened to a new world, a world that made others look on aghast, stories that only got better in the retelling. I knew right from the start that Horror was something of a closed world. Not everyone professed to liking them, some even consciously shied away from them calling them "nasty", "evil", or "sick". Those three words are music to the ears of a kid trying to be different, trying to follow instinct. And what kid doesn't instinctively like dangerous things and a scare?
Of course, we couldn’t be sure that we’d ever be treated to such things again. The BBC had a way of doing the exact opposite of what you wanted it too. But in the second part of this article we’ll celebrate the news, a year later, that those anonymous television schedulers were going to bring us “Masters of Terror”. A year would have seemed like a long time back then, but now - in my memories - it's the blink of an eye. See you then!
1975: Fantastic Double Bill, Full ScheduleSaturday 2 August 197522.55.00.05 The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
00.05-01.20 Quatermass II
Saturday 9 August 197522.45-00.00 The Tell Tale Heart
00.00-01.20 The Premature Burial
Saturday 16 AugustNoah’s Ark
One Million BC
Saturday 23 August 197522.40-00.05 This Island Earth
00.05-01.25 Barbarella
Saturday 30 August 197522.55-00.05 The Cat and The Canary
00.05-01.25 The Comedy of Terrors)
Saturday 6 September 197522.35-00.00 The Beast With Five Fingers
00.00-01.20 The Maze
Written by Vaughan, August 2008 / © 2008
