NIGHTMARE (1981), aka NIGHTMARES IN A DAMAGED BRAIN

Director: Romano Scavolini

Writer: Romano Scavolini

Producers: John L. Watkins, William Milling

Cast: Baird Stafford, Sharon Smith, Mik Cribben, C.J. Cooke, Danny Ronan, John Watkins, William Milling, Tammy Patterson, Kim Patterson, Kathleen Ferguson, Scott Praetorius, Christina Keefe, William S. Kirksey, Tommy Bouvier, William Paul, Geoffrey Marchese, Candese Marchese, Michael Sweney, George Kruger, Lonnie Griffis, Tara Alexander, Danielle Galiana, Ray Baker, David Massar, Carl Gifford

Psychiatric patient George Tatum (Baird Stafford) is tormented by a recurrent nightmare involving a young boy (Scott Praetorius), a couple indulging in sadomasochistic sex games (Christine Keefe and William S. Kirksey), and a woman’s severed head. Tatum had been committed to a psychiatric hospital for the killing of a Brooklyn, New York family. Tatum’s treatment involved experimental drug therapy sanctioned by the U.S. government. It seemed that the behavior-altering drug had rehabilitated Tatum and he was released. However, as an outpatient, George Tatum continues to have nightmares and seizures. A visit to a New York City peepshow prompts a psychosexual fit in Tatum. He goes on a southbound road trip and commits murder. Now that Tatum has gone missing and begun to kill, his handlers are trying to track him down before more killings occur and they are exposed.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

According to Italian director and writer Romano Scavolini, Nightmare was based on some articles detailing the CIA using psychiatric patients and prison inmates to experiment on with behavior-altering drugs. In the course of this film’s story, these experiments do not seem to be the reason George Tatum becomes a dangerous schizophrenic. He has already been implicated in violence that has rendered him suitable as a subject for experimentation by the U.S. government. It is the negligence and ambitions of Tatum’s doctor (William Milling) and government project supervisor (John L. Watkins) that allows Tatum to be considered “rebuilt” and safe to enter society again. We never find out the endgame for this project as it applies to Tatum, only that the military may have some further use for him. Once Tatum gets out of control, all that the people involved in his case are concerned with is finding him and covering their asses.

Although Scavolini states that he did not conceive of Nightmare as a genre piece, it surely must have gotten green-lit to become yet another bloody reveler in the slasher film craze of the early 1980s. It is one of the most simplistic and nasty of the lot. We are provided with protagonist George Tatum who we know from the very first scene is deranged. As we follow Tatum’s journey, we see him commit murder. There will be no whodunit intrigue in this film. Perhaps this movie should be considered a “whydunit.” There are only a handful of continuing characters to follow in the story, yet we know very little about them. We simply see them going about their routines for the six days that this film’s story unfolds. Along the way, there are moments of sexual titillation and bloody murder. If ever a movie seemed designed for the early ’80s grindhouses, it was Nightmare. Fittingly, an early scene shows George Tatum wandering around New York City’s once infamous Times Square sex shops, peepshows, and movie theaters that probably exhibited this film.

Baird Stafford stars as the murderous George Tatum. His nightmares seem linked to a psychosexual hangup that can induce epileptic fits and homicidal acts. He is not romanticized, stylized, or glorified in anyway. Tatum is not a mythic menace in the Michael Myers or Jason Voorhees manner. George Tatum is just one very pathetic, anguished, and dangerous person. We learn very little about him, and it is perhaps that remote aspect of this character that lends his presence a bit of extra power. His anonymity also provides a payoff in the end.

Sharon Smith plays single mother Susan Temper whose Florida household becomes the focus of Tatum’s attention. She displays the frazzled emotions of parenthood very honestly. The focus of her life seems to be the relationship she is having with mellow and supportive Bob Rosen (Mik Cribben). Like all the characters in this film, we only learn anything about her from the way she behaves. There are no backstories or character arcs provided. This may not qualify as great drama, but there is a humdrum intimacy here that may make the horrific events feel more disturbing.

Susan Temper’s homelife had its share of stress long before the psychotic George Tatum started making creepy phone calls. Her son, C.J. (C.J. Cooke), is a morbid, little brat who delights in pranks that scare the shit out of his family and babysitter (Danny Ronan). As a result, he becomes a classic case of the boy who cried wolf when he tries to tell anyone about seeing creepy George lurking about.

The interplay between George Tatum’s nightmares and reality is well done. His nightmares drive him to acts of violence, and many things can trigger his sporadic nightmare visions. Neither Tatum nor his doctor was able to understand the significance of the nightmares that might reveal the root of Tatum’s psychosis. This provides some intrigue as a replacement for the usual mystery killer element in many other slasher horror films. Once Tatum’s nightmare fully plays out, it completes the film’s most notorious scene. It is also used to suggest an unsettling “passing of the torch” for further potential maniacal mischief.

Director Scavolini refused to make cuts to his naughty and nihilistic flick for any major film distributor to release it in the U.S. Nightmare received an X rating for its New York release, which kept it grinding away for 24 hours in the New York City grindhouses before getting some regional releases in other states. At the height of the “video nasties” hysteria in the United Kingdom, Nightmare had the distinction of being the one film that resulted in criminal prosecutions for those distributing it on video cassette.

Among horror buffs, Nightmare achieved a controversial status due to the film’s promotional credit of “Special Effects Director” given to makeup artist Tom Savini, the ’80s king of splatter. Savini denies involvement with the film and resents the movie trying to cash-in on his name and reputation. Others involved in the production say that Savini was involved in an advisory role for some of the film’s gore effects. There is one famous photo of Savini on the set seeming to demonstrate just how an axe should be handled in a scene. To judge from the bloody results, I would say it appears that the splatter maestro’s coaching paid off.

Nightmare is a very minimalist horror film that keeps things simple, sleazy, and gory. Its directness contributes to the grittiness that helps to distinguish it from the rest of the slasher pack, and Tara Alexander’s peepshow penetration demonstration is an unexpected horror film highlight making the bloody Nightmare a wet dream in more ways than one. George Tatum ain’t the only one drooling.

FRANKENSTEIN (1931)

Director: James Whale

Writers: John L. Balderston, Garrett Fort, Francis Edward Faragoh, adapted from Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus and Peggy Webling’s 1927 stage play Frankenstein

Producer: Carl Laemmle, Jr.

Cast: Colin Clive, Boris Karloff, Mae Clarke, Edward Van Sloane, Dwight Frye, John Boles, Frederick Kerr, Lionel Belmore, Marilyn Harris, Michael Mark, Francis Ford (uncredited)

In Europe, obsessed scientist Henry Frankenstein (Colin Clive) wants to create life. He assembles a new being from various stolen human body parts. Frankenstein believes that he can harness a lifeforce from lightning. During a thunderstorm, Frankenstein conducts his experiment. He succeeds in animating his creation (Boris Karloff), who is as ignorant as any newborn. Unfortunately, Frankenstein’s assistant Fritz (Dwight Frye) provided the brain of a criminal for transplanting into the skull of the huge, grotesque creature. Frankenstein’s neglect and Fritz’s abuse prompt the monster to become violent.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

When Universal Pictures’ 1931 Dracula proved to be a much-needed hit, Frankenstein would seem to be a sure-fire follow-up. Like Dracula, this film would also credit an earlier stage play adaptation of its source novel. Peggy Webling’s 1927 play can probably primarily be credited with proving to Universal Pictures that Frankenstein had commercial potential due to its recent English stage productions. Since John L. Balderston apparently hated Webling’s stage script, one would assume his film story treatment was hardly faithful to it.

An early contender for the director’s chair, Robert Florey, is supposed to have ignored any previous film treatments and wrote an uncredited script that may have shaped what is now a film classic. Florey had gone so far as to direct a 20-minute test film with none other than Dracula’s Bela Lugosi as the monster. There have been many contradictory accounts of how Lugosi’s monster in that test footage was depicted. Some have said his appearance was based on the animated clay being in Paul Wegener’s German film The Golem (1920). Others have suggested that the Lugosi monster makeup already had characteristics that would eventually be used in the final film, and that some of that makeup was based on Robert Florey’s ideas. This horror fan can think of no lost film footage that would be more thrilling to be found and shown one day than Florey’s Frankenstein film test. Ultimately, Florey did not get to direct Frankenstein and Lugosi was denied the monster role. That may have been an awful career move for Lugosi, yet he was not very enthusiastic about playing a mute role buried under extensive makeup. Of course, Lugosi would eventually play the monster in 1943’s Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man.

One distinction of Webling’s play would be that it is supposed to be the first time that Frankenstein’s monster is called “Frankenstein.” It was probably the Frankenstein film’s posters with the monster prominently featured that helped perpetuate the popular monster misnomer. Apparently by 1933, the name of Frankenstein being used as a euphemism for monstrous ugliness was common. In Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933), actress Glenda Farrell refers to that film’s disfigured menace as someone who “made Frankenstein look like a lily.”

It is interesting to note that the original 1818 novel of Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus by the English author Mary Shelley, while being a world-famous story of Gothic horror, is an early example of science fiction. Frankenstein is a scientist whose pioneering medical research and experimentation birth a being that becomes a menace and turns on its creator. The 1931 movie adaptation has little resemblance to the source novel, yet the film still shares the book’s themes of scientific irresponsibility, parental neglect, and man’s inhumanity to one who is different.

English director James Whale had recently established himself as a respected talent at Universal. His background in theater made him valuable as a director in the era when films were transitioning from silents to talkies. Whale had been involved in three World War I films, the last of which was the successful Waterloo Bridge (1931) for Universal Pictures. When the critically acclaimed, recent arrival at Universal was given his pick of projects for his next film to direct, he chose Frankenstein. World War I veteran James Whale wanted a change of pace from war films and certainly must have relished the stylized visual and dramatic opportunities suited to Gothic horror.

Whale brought not only his filmmaking craft to the project, for he was also instrumental in discovering the talent who would portray his film’s monster and become an icon of horror: Boris Karloff. The fellow Englishman’s unique, angular features must have struck Whale as being the perfect foundation for the strange being that needed to be built into the starring menace of his film.

Jack Pierce, Universal’s head makeup man, was about to become as revered to horror fans as Boris Karloff when he concocted the creature’s look. Mary Shelley’s original novel is vague on the details of the monster’s creation. Therefore, Pierce’s makeup expertise had to devise ways to depict the surgical improvisation and augmentation that Frankenstein used to construct a new being from various corpses that could be brought to life with electricity. He turned Karloff into the most recognizable character in horror history. There has been a multitude of Frankenstein films made all over the world since 1931, but Universal’s pale, scarred giant with the flattop skull and electrodes in its neck is still the world’s most famous movie monster. Pierce’s monster design played a huge role in the picture’s success and solidified Universal Pictures’ reputation as a fear film factory with Pierce as the chief monster maker.

Just as instrumental in the success of the film was Boris Karloff’s performance as the monster. Karloff is not only playing a character with the attention-getting advantage of a monstrous appearance. He is also bringing nuances of emotion to a being without the benefit of dialogue. Karloff’s inarticulate monster can only whimper, moan, and roar. Despite his heavy makeup and costuming, Karloff registers a wide array of expressions with a wonderful mime performance. This was something extraordinary at that time; what other film character was given so much emotional depth without being able to speak or even be considered truly human? Despite the monster receiving a criminal brain, we are left to wonder if it has only become dangerous as a reaction to abuse and neglect. Nearly a century later, Karloff’s performance still can’t be taken for granted. 

I was surprised to learn that, in addition to many years of stage work, the relatively unknown, 43-year-old actor had already appeared in 81 film roles by that time. I knew Karloff had already paid his dues as an actor, but I didn’t realize how often he had already been before movie cameras. All that dedication and experience finally paid off, and films were due for many more great, starring performances from Boris Karloff.

With Frankenstein’s sensational debut of Karloff’s monster, it is easy to forget what a fine performance Colin Clive contributes as Henry Frankenstein. Colin Clive was an English actor who had worked with director Whale before in the English stage production of Journey’s End before appearing in Whale’s 1930 film adaptation. Clive brings both obsessive intensity and sensitivity to the role. His wonderful speaking voice draws us in when he explains his ambition to make scientific discoveries. Clive’s unhinged victory rant of “It’s Alive! It’s Alive!” is a famous film quote and horror movie catchphrase. Horror fans appreciate Clive reprising his role in Bride of Frankenstein (1935) and starring in another ’30s creepy classic, Mad Love (1935). Unfortunately, Colin Clive was as emotionally tormented as his film characters and would soon die at just 37 years of age in 1937.

Two of the supporting cast were lifted from Universal’s pioneering, sound-era, horror classic Dracula: Edward Van Sloan and Dwight Frye. Van Sloane appears as another scientist, Dr. Waldman, who tries to help Frankenstein avoid the disaster his experiment is leading to. Frye plays another unsavory ally to the title character, this time around as hunchbacked lab assistant Fritz.

Mae Clarke plays Henry Frankenstein’s fiancée, Elizabeth. Clarke had drawn fine notices acting in director Whale’s recent Universal hit, Waterloo Bridge. Bette Davis was considered for the role of Elizabeth, but Whale must have preferred working again with Clarke after proving herself in his previous film. Mae Clarke had a very extensive filmography, yet her most famous film moment is probably having James Cagney smash half a grapefruit in her face in The Public Enemy (1931).

Despite its familiarity so many generations later, James Whale’s Frankenstein is still vital and entertaining to the discerning fright flick fan. Its expressionistic interior and stylized exterior sets create a mood ripe for nightmares. Whale’s camera moves establish settings and his shot choices cut abruptly to closeups that ratchet up character conflict or apprehension. In the early days of the sound era, this was very agile filmmaking that defied the “handicap” of coping with new sound recording technology which often hindered mobile camera work and varied perspectives in a scene.

Another trademark of Whale’s horror films is wit. This was not just ham-handed comic relief but touches of irreverence and eccentricity. One could argue that Frederick Kerr’s elderly Baron Frankenstein is a comic-relief character, but he is quite appealing in his blustery ignorance and jovial energy. One of my favorite bits in the film is after Dwight Frye’s Fritz refuses admittance to visitors trying to interrupt Frankenstein’s experiment. Whale’s camera lingers on the hobbling hunchback just long enough for us to see Fritz pause to pull up a droopy sock on his grubby ankle. That action serves no story purpose, but it is such a “non-movie” moment that it feels both real and funny.

Universal Pictures’ Frankenstein established many horror film tropes that would be indulged in by the genre’s filmmakers ever since: the indeterminant time and place of its European setting, graverobbing, the torch-bearing mob of angry villagers, monsters created by mad scientists, and extravagant and arcane mad science gadgetry. Electrician Kenneth Strickfaden’s impressive array of sparking, buzzing, and blazing gizmos used in Henry Frankenstein’s experiment were to be recycled and elaborated on in many more sci-fi scenarios for Universal Pictures over the years. This film defined the state-of-the-art for mad scientist labs.

Frankenstein became another much-needed box-office hit for Universal Pictures. It also drew a lot of criticism for its then-objectionable content. The horror genre was always a lightning rod for moral condemnation, and Frankenstein attracted its share of outrage. For decades after its initial release, prints of the film were trimmed of Henry Frankenstein blaspheming about feeling like God. Another more shocking incident was the monster’s unintentional drowning of the child (Marilyn Harris) that befriends him. Even today, death to children is a touchy subject in horror films. Fortunately, these trims have been restored to this horror classic.

With the 1931 back-to-back box office hits of Dracula and Frankenstein, horror at the sound era cinema was a proven crowd-pleaser. For the next 15 years, Universal Pictures was the predominant purveyor of fright flicks that created scary characters who are now American pop culture icons. They have achieved a legendary status that exemplifies all things spooky for all ages and all time.