THE NORLISS TAPES (1973)

Director: Dan Curtis

Writers: William F. Nolan adapting Fred Mustard Stewart’s story

Producer: Dan Curtis

Cast: Roy Thinnes, Angie Dickinson, Don Porter, Claude Akins, Michele Carey, Nick Dimitri, Vonetta McGee, Hurd Hatfield, Bryan O’Byrne, Jane Dulo, Robert Mandan, Ed Gilbert, Stanley Adams, Bob Schott, George DiCenzo, Patrick Wright, Bob Harks (uncredited)

San Francisco, California writer and debunker of the supernatural, David Norliss (Roy Thinnes), is missing. Before his disappearance, Norliss made a distraught phone call asking to meet with his editor, Sanford T. Evans (Don Porter). At the empty Norliss home, Evans finds a numbered series of audiotape cassettes. Evans plays the first tape and hears David Norliss’ account of an investigation he conducted for Ellen Sterns Cort (Angie Dickinson). She is the widow of recently deceased sculptor James Cort (Nick Dimitri). Ellen is convinced that an intruder she encountered in her late husband’s studio was actually her dead husband. 

The Flashback Fanatic movie review 

Dan Curtis was the producer and director of many macabre made-for-television projects. One of his greatest claims to fame was his Dark Shadows gothic soap opera series that aired weekday afternoons on the ABC television network from 1966 to 1971. During the ’70s, Curtis would produce and direct many horror films for television. He had produced the ratings blockbuster The Night Stalker (1972) and would produce and direct its sequel, The Night Strangler (1973). Curtis thought that the storyline of the news reporter hero encountering the supernatural in both of those films was played out. He had also had some friction with star Darren McGavin. Therefore, Curtis wanted nothing to do with the subsequent Kolchak: The Night Stalker series (1974-75). 

However, that did not deter Curtis from immediately making The Norliss Tapes, yet another film about an investigator of the supernatural. This film was meant as a pilot for a television series that was never realized. The story hook that may have intrigued Curtis, and potentially a weekly series’ audience, was that the hero was missing and his whereabouts might be gleaned from his audiotaped accounts of his strange adventures. 

On the basis of this film, the potential series would have had a much bleaker tone than the Kolchak series. Not only is Roy Thinnes’ David Norliss a much more low-key character than Darren McGavin’s snide and energetic Carl Kolchak, but Norliss is introduced as someone who is apparently emotionally damaged in some way by the things he has recently discovered. Kolchak’s investigations were always driven by his righteous zeal to expose the truth, whereas Norliss’ attitude, represented by his voiceover narration, seems to indicate that the truth is so awful that he can take no satisfaction from his discoveries. That may have made for a real downer of a through line for a series, but it certainly would have been different. 

One advantage of credibility for such a series would be that, unlike reporter Carl Kolchak coincidentally running across all manner of supernatural horrors during his Chicago newsbeat duties, David Norliss is a writer and occult investigator specifically seeking out weird phenomena. His initial purpose was to expose the frauds behind many such incidents. It seems that more recent events he has experienced are far more frightening and dangerous. 

In the previous decade, Roy Thinnes had starred as protagonist David Vincent trying to expose a secret invasion by extraterrestrials in the ABC Network television series The Invaders (1967-68). No doubt, that was an influence on Chris Carter’s Fox Network television series The X-Files (1993-2002, 2016, 2018). Thinnes was even cast as an alien being for two episodes of The X-Files. During the early 1970s, Thinnes appeared in several other creepy telefilms. 

Thinnes’ David Norliss is shown at the outset of The Norliss Tapes to be a seemingly shattered individual. His swanky, oceanside premises are untidy, there are booze bottles kept handy in various rooms, and he seems disheveled and wasted. After his call to his friend and editor asking to meet with him to explain why he hasn’t done any writing and to share some disturbing knowledge, we only see Norliss in flashbacks that dramatize his audiotaped account of his frightening discoveries. During his investigation Norliss seems perfectly rational. Despite his recent writing goal of debunking the supernatural, Norliss is open-minded to occult possibilities once he encounters some very eerie events himself. 

Angie Dickinson was just over a year away from starring on NBC’s Police Woman series (1974-78). Here, as Ellen Sterns Cort, she accompanies David Norliss during much of his investigation. She has contacted Norliss to investigate her encounter with her deceased and dangerously reanimated husband, James Cort. It is curious that, while Ellen is shocked by the phenomena of her husband returning from the dead, she displays no grief about him reappearing in such a hideous condition and behaving so violently. One can assume that the honeymoon had probably been over for a long time in the Cort’s marriage. It is also rather refreshing that there is no indication of any sort of romance developing between the two attractive leads in this story. 

It is also curious that Ellen’s equally beautiful sister, Marsha (the underused, always magnificent Michele Carey), is never shown to be anything more than a friend to David Norliss. In fact, Norliss’ narration only refers to her as an “acquaintance.” While Norliss briefly holds Marsha’s hand as a gesture of assurance, there are no particularly affectionate sentiments expressed between them. Whenever we see two attractive, single characters dining together, our assumption is that they are romantically involved, though that is not ever indicated here. It is because of Marsha’s acquaintance with Norliss that she refers him as an investigator to Ellen. We are left to ponder the status of the relationship between Marsha and David. It is possible that Marsha’s eventual fate plays some part in what appears to be David Norliss’ eventual breakdown. 

In fact, every character in this film seems to have no close relationships we are aware of. Victims in this story are not even given the dignity of being missed or mourned by others. The one still-married couple we meet (Bryan O’Byrne and Jane Dulo), who run a motel, seems to be anything but happy. The very first relationship that we encounter is that of David Norliss reaching out to his friend and editor, Sanford T. Evans. Yet before they can meet, Norliss has disappeared. Aside from terror, the most persistent feeling throughout this film is loneliness. 

Nick Dimitri had a long film career as a stunt man. He would often be cast as thugs, boxers, and just about anyone meant to be physical and intimidating. One of his most memorable roles was as Charles Bronson’s final bare-knuckle fight opponent in Hard Times (1975). His James Cort character is only seen as a snarling zombie. We are never given any indication of whether he was a good or bad person before his death, and his wife seems beyond mourning or affection for him. Again, close relationships seem broken or obsolete in this film. We learn from others that the rare, crippling disease that would cause Cort’s premature death is what had motivated him to make arrangements for his reanimation. That’s when the trouble for everyone else begins. 

As in the two previous Curtis productions, The Night Stalker and The Night Strangler, this film’s villain has a need for human blood. That blood is put to a unique use. Just how the back-from-the-dead James Cort manages to remove all the blood from his victims is left to the imagination. Maybe he sucks it up Dracula-style and pukes it up for later use. Look, if morbid movie obsessives like me are left to our own devices, we will simply need to figure this stuff out. The answers won’t always be pretty. 

I was pleased to find out that The Norliss Tapes’ cult film reputation has apparently led to it getting some theatrical showings in the 2000s. Producer-director Dan Curtis not only delivers some jump scares, but William F. Nolan’s script leaves the viewer with a lingering sense of emotional desolation; even the weather is dismal. As the film has an open-ended conclusion, it may be frustrating for some. I think others may appreciate it reflecting that life is full of circumstances that remain mysterious and questions that go unanswered, even after they accept my blood puke theory.