THE NIGHT STRANGLER (1973)

Director: Dan Curtis

Writer: Richard Matheson (based on characters created in Jeff Rice’s novel The Kolchak Papers)

Producer: Dan Curtis

Cast: Darren McGavin, Jo Ann Pflug, Simon Oakland, Scott Brady, Wally Cox, Margaret Hamilton, John Carradine, Nina Wayne, Al Lewis, Ivor Francis, Richard Anderson, Virginia Peters, Kate Murtagh, Diane Shalet, Anne Randall, Francoise Burnheim, Regina Parton.

Veteran reporter Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) relocates in Seattle, Washington looking for work. He runs into the newspaper editor he used to work for in Las Vegas, Tony Vincenzo (Simon Oakland), and gets hired. As Kolchak’s luck would have it, he is soon investigating a series of murders just as strange as those he reported on back in Las Vegas. Women are being strangled by a killer who leaves traces of rotted flesh on their throats and extracts blood from the base of their skulls. Once again, Kolchak runs afoul of the authorities who don’t want to accept the incredible sounding facts he uncovers about the crimes.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

The Night Strangler is the equally entertaining sequel to the ratings blockbuster telefilm The Night Stalker (1972). Once again, the theme of journalism oppression by the authorities is as prevalent as the horror. Both Dan Curtis and Richard Matheson are involved again. This time producer Curtis also directs. Matheson’s script is an original story using the two characters of newspaper reporter Carl Kolchak and his exasperated editor, Tony Vincenzo, from the previous film that was based on a Jeff Rice novel. Rice, in turn, would write a novelization of this sequel film.

Some may feel that The Night Strangler is something of a rehash of The Night Stalker, but it has an energy all its own. It is loaded with funny and distinctive characters, most of whom Kolchak can’t help rubbing the wrong way. This leads to many bust-out-loud-laughing moments, yet the humor is never at the expense of the horror. We are still fully invested in the setting and situations Carl Kolchak is investigating.

Speaking of setting, that is often as important as character and motivation in a good horror tale. Like the earlier film, The Night Strangler takes place in a city not often dealt with, especially on television back in the ’70s. Seattle provides not only a different locale, but screenwriter Matheson delves into a strange-but-true bit of its history to add another layer of mystery and the bizarre to his story; it is an essential part of the killer’s character.

The main concept for this film’s menace seems to have a strong precedent in the Hammer Films horror movie The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959), which was a remake of Paramount Pictures’ The Man in Half Moon Street (1945). Matheson’s story brings plenty of other elements into this film to keep it fresh and exciting, and his use of the Seattle Underground is a great idea.

First published in 1950, Richard Matheson was a very innovative and influential writer of fantasy stories. His horror tales often placed a menace in the contemporary settings and times of his readers. This made his stories more relatable and potentially unsettling for his audience. Matheson’s prolific output would also include screenplays for films and television. Many of the best-remembered episodes of TV’s The Twilight Zone (1959–64) were scripted by Matheson. He wrote most of director Roger Corman’s film adaptations of Edgar Allan Poe stories in the 1960s. In the ’70s, Matheson scripted two important movies that helped ensure popularity and respect for the burgeoning made-for-TV film medium: Duel (1971—based on Matheson’s short story and directed by Steven Spielberg in his feature film debut) and the first Carl Kolchak adventure, The Night Stalker.

Producer Dan Curtis admired Richard Matheson’s writing, but he had once offended the writer when offering an option to make a film based on a Matheson story. Matheson had resented such a low-figure bid for his work. That earlier Curtis production never materialized, but when the opportunity for Curtis to produce The Night Stalker arrived, he had a tough time overcoming Matheson’s grudge to get his “favorite writer” to do the screenplay. Once they got past that initial acrimony, Curtis and Matheson became cordial and would collaborate on more ’70s telefilms.

The Night Strangler repeats the narrative hook of the dedicated journalist tracking down another weird serial killer. Both writer Matheson and producer-director Curtis must have felt that more overt humor would keep the sequel from appearing formulaic. Matheson had already proven his merit writing for laughs in the horror comedies The Raven (1963) and The Comedy of Terrors (1963). While the first Kolchak film was laced with cynicism and humor, Matheson’s original screenplay for this sequel has even more amusing characters collaborating or clashing with our newshawk hero. Since all this humor arises from character quirks, egos, and conflicting agendas, it does not diminish the threat and intrigue of the horror being investigated. Dan Curtis’s direction still enhances the creep factor and delivers some fine jump scares.

Jo Ann Pflug co-stars as Carl Kolchak’s belly dancer friend and psychology undergrad, Louise Harper. She is another sexy and appealing lady that our reporter hero manages to hook up with, and she becomes much more involved in Kolchak’s investigations than his last girlfriend. Pflug would also star in the next year’s Curits-Matheson TV terror, Scream of the Wolf (1974).

Scott Brady plays Police Captain Roscoe Schubert, Kolchak’s most immediate obstacle to his latest journalistic crusade. Schubert actually seems quite reasonable if inflexible; however, he is driven to rage by Kolchak’s pushy antics.

Horror movie stalwart John Carradine is Llewellyn Crossbinder, the stuffy and domineering publisher of Kolchak’s newspaper, The Seattle Daily Chronicle.

Wally Cox (TV’s Mr. Peepers—1952–55) is The Chronicle’s meek and forgotten researcher, Titus Berry, and he proves to be a great help to Kolchak’s investigations.

Margaret Hamilton (The Wicked Witch of the West in 1939’s The Wizard of Oz) has a cameo as the cranky Professor Crabwell who gives Kolchak some ideas about the killer’s motivation.

Al Lewis (Grandpa in The Munsters TV series—1964–66) portrays a vagrant living in the Seattle Underground.

Richard Anderson, best known as Oscar Goldman in both The Six Million Dollar Man (1973–78) and The Bionic Woman (1976–78) TV series, brings fanatical intensity and a touch of madness to his brief role of Dr. Richard Malcolm.

Dan Curtis’s frequent music composer, Robert Cobert, returns with a revamped theme from The Night Stalker. Cobert also contributes other jazzy and creepy pieces that perfectly suit this contemporary urban horror story.

This second Carl Kolchak television movie was also quite successful, and plans were made for a third film that was to be called The Night Killers. Richard Matheson collaborated on that script with William F. Nolan, another writer who would also provide creepy scripts for future Dan Curtis productions. That third Kolchak feature film was never made, but on Friday the 13th in September of 1974, Kolchak: The Night Stalker debuted as a twenty-episode television series. Curtis and Matheson were not involved in the weekly show, as they both felt that the Kolchak concept was played out. Darren McGavin would not only star in the ongoing series; he was also the co-producer. The series was a ratings flop in its day, but it was great, spooky fun and has developed a devoted cult following over the years. It influenced Chris Carter when he created the television series The X-Files (1993–2002, 2016–18).

The 1970s were the heyday of made-for-television movies. There were many in the horror genre that deserve to be made available again. Of them all, the Carl Kolchak adventures The Night Stalker and The Night Strangler are the most deserving of classic status. Those two films are all-time favorites of mine and must-see for true horror buffs.

THE NIGHT STALKER (1972)

Director: John Llewellyn Moxey

Writers: Richard Matheson, Max Hodge (uncredited), adapting the novel The Kolchak Papers by Jeff Rice

Producer: Dan Curtis

Cast: Darren McGavin, Carol Lynley, Simon Oakland, Ralph Meeker, Claude Akins, Charles McGraw, Kent Smith, Barry Atwater, Larry Linville, Jordan Rhodes, Elisha Cook, Jr., Stanley Adams, (and uncredited cast members) Virginia Gregg. Patty Elder, Irene Cagen, Don Ames, Buddy Joe Hooker, Peggy Rea, Edward Faulkner, Rudy Doucette, Sig Frohlich, Eddie Garrett, Monty O’Grady, Mark Russell, George Simmons, Al Roberts

Las Vegas newspaper reporter Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) is assigned to cover the murders of various women found drained of their blood. The killer (Barry Atwater) proves to be elusive and dangerous, even to the police that try capturing him. Kolchak constantly grates on the local authorities in his pursuit of the truth. When the truth Kolchak wants to report suggests that the murderer may be a supernatural vampire, he also encounters resistance from his editor (Simon Oakland). Yet his reporter’s zeal and ambition drive Kolchak onward, regardless of the risks.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

The early 1970s seemed to be an era hellbent on resurrecting the vampire as a modern-day, movie menace. Films like Count Yorga, Vampire (1970) and producer-director Dan Curtis’s House of Dark Shadows (1970), his feature film adaptation of his Dark Shadows television series (1966-71), opened the decade with contemporary spins on that Gothic horror.

1972's telefilm The Night Stalker is one of the finest horror films ever made. Great writing, characters, performances, and direction all contribute to the excellence of this production. It is the concept that really energizes the whole thing: a modern-day metropolis and its officials having to deal with the possibility of a fiend from folklore being responsible for the serial killings making headlines. The Night Stalker dumps what seems to be a classic vampire right into the lap of 1970s Las Vegas. There is no way to explain the menace rationally, and the authorities refuse to acknowledge it for fear of not only creating panic, but also to protect business interests (gambling and tourism), as well as law enforcement reputations that may look foolish admitting to the existence of a “real live vampire.” 

The screenplay, by fantasy writer Richard Matheson, is based on the then-unpublished novel The Kolchak Papers by Jeff Rice. There has been a bit of speculation about the originality of Rice’s vampire-in-a-modern-day-American-city premise, as the 1965 novel Progeny of the Adder by Leslie H. Whitten also dealt with a similar situation in Washington, D.C., from the perspective of the police rather than a newspaper reporter. Rice claimed not to be familiar with the earlier work when he wrote his novel, and there are many instances where similar ideas occur to different creators. As a matter of fact, long before the Whitten and Rice works, the king of all vampire tales, Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel Dracula, took place in what was then modern-day London, England. For that matter, modern-day London was also the setting for the 1931 film version of Dracula as well as the 1943 film The Return of the Vampire, both starring cinema’s vampire icon Bela Lugosi. 1958’s movie The Return of Dracula had the famous bloodsucker relocating in a small, modern-day, California town. 1970’s Count Yorga, Vampire also had its title fiend settling into modern California. All the previous works mention that modern society does not readily accept the existence of the vampire, yet the Jeff Rice novel and its film adaptation really stress the corruption of the establishment being the main obstacle to dealing with the supernatural menace.

This was the first collaboration between writer Richard Matheson and producer Dan Curtis. Matheson had written many fantasy and horror stories in prose and screenplays for the cinema and television. Curtis had produced the 1968 television adaptation of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and was the creator of the daytime television Gothic soap opera series Dark Shadows. Curtis would later direct, as well as produce, more Matheson-scripted films. Anything these two guys were involved in is worth checking out.

Director John Llewellyn Moxey had directed the British horror film The City of the Dead (1960), aka Horror Hotel. That was the first horror production by the producing team of Milton Subotsky and Max Rosenberg, who would later helm Amicus Productions. That company would become Hammer Films’ chief British rival in horror film production during the ’60s and ’70s. Llewellyn would later move to America and direct a lot of television work, including more suspense and horror projects.

Producer Dan Curtis’s go-to-guy for his soundtracks, Robert Cobert, composed a score for The Night Stalker that is full of energy and eeriness with a contemporary urban feel. It puzzles me how Kolchak’s creator, author Jeff Rice, could have hated this film’s fantastic music. I think Cobert’s music is perfect.

While working as a painter for Columbia Pictures, Darren McGavin’s long acting career began when he managed to get hired for a bit part in Columbia’s 1945 film A Song to Remember. He then moved to New York City to study acting and performed in stage productions while also appearing in live-television dramas. By the mid ’50s, McGavin was starting to get featured roles in movies while he was becoming a television mainstay. In addition to guest-starring roles in episodes of many television programs, he also headlined several series: Casey, Crime Photographer (1951–52),  Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer (1958–59), Riverboat (1959–61), and The Outsider (1968–69).

When Darren McGavin portrayed news reporter Carl Kolchak, he created one of my all-time favorite heroes. He is likable but irascible. His goal to report the truth is both noble and self-serving. He is not infallible or fearless, yet he presses on. He is a very human and, ultimately, tragic character. Carl Kolchak has certainly become Darren McGavin’s signature role, perhaps only to be rivaled by his “the Old Man” character, young Ralphie’s father in the yuletide classic A Christmas Story (1983).

Ralph Meeker plays Bernie Jenks, Kolchak’s pal at the FBI. It is fun to see both McGavin and Meeker teaming up in this film, as both actors had portrayed that most hard-boiled of private detectives, Mike Hammer. Meeker portrayed Hammer in one of the greatest film noir flicks, Kiss Me Deadly (1955), three years before McGavin played another interpretation of that character in the syndicated television series.

It is suggested that Kolchak’s girlfriend, Gail Foster, is an escort or hooker, which was pretty daring for the hero’s love interest of a 1972 TV-movie. As Gail, the adorable Carol Lynley makes us root even more for a happy ending to play out for our reporter hero.

Simon Oakland, as Kolchak’s editor Anthony Vincenzo, establishes the ongoing friction between the two characters that would become ever more entertaining in the sequel to this film and the twenty episodes of the weekly ABC television series that followed.

There are plenty of other memorable character actors that provide great support such as Larry Linville, Charles McGraw, Kent Smith, Claude Akins, and Elisha Cook, Jr. As in all the Kolchak stories that would follow, these other characters provide a lot of interesting and often humorous conflicts with Carl Kolchak.

Of course, the greatest conflict is created by “suspect” (as the Las Vegas establishment would have it) Janos Skorzeny. Without a single word of dialogue, Barry Atwater portrays the creepiest vampire ever. FBI man Bernie Jenks provides the only information known about this character during a press conference. That makes us relate to the killer in the same way that we would if he and his crimes were being reported to us through the news media. This is the same way we are made aware of all too many other real-life killers among us. It is this sense of matter-of-fact reality that enables The Night Stalker to get under our skin.

I was just a kid tuning in the boob tube on the cold winter night of January 11, 1972 when I first saw The Night Stalker. I knew nothing about it beforehand, but this little ghoul realized he had hit the jackpot during the second scene when the leggiest beauty (Patty Elder) he had ever ogled met her grisly fate in a Las Vegas alley. The Night Stalker made television ratings history and proved that sometimes something can be enormously popular because it deserves to be.

SCREAM OF THE WOLF (1974)

Director: Dan Curtis

Writers: Richard Matheson adapting the novella “The Hunter” by David Case

Producer: Dan Curtis

Cast: Peter Graves, Clint Walker, Jo Ann Pflug, Philip Carey, Don Megowan, Dean Smith, Lee Paul, James Storm, Bonnie Van Dyke, Brian Richards, Randy Kirby, Tom Dever, Vernon Weddle, Bill Baldwin, Orville Sherman, Douglas Bungert, Grant Owens, Chuck Hayward, Ken Stimson 

In Monterey County, California, a series of slayings leave the human victims horribly mutilated. Sheriff Vernon Bell (Philip Carey) asks local author and retired hunter John Weatherby (Peter Graves) to examine the tracks found at the death scenes. Despite his vast hunting experience, Weatherby can’t identify the species responsible for the killings. The path of the footprints seems to change from tracks of a four-legged, wolf-like beast to a bipedal creature before they disappear. The strange creature also has changed its scent. Another hunting authority and past friend of Weatherby’s, Byron Douglas (Clint Walker), is fascinated by the grisly deaths and the panic they instill in the community, but he refuses to offer any assistance tracking down the bloodthirsty creature. 

The Flashback Fanatic movie review 

During the 1970s heyday of the made-for-TV movie, the horror genre was well served. No one primed that bloody pump better than producer-director Dan Curtis. He made a name for himself as the creator of the afternoon Gothic soap opera series for ABC TV, Dark Shadows (1966-71). He then produced the massive ratings winner The Night Stalker (1972) and directed its hit sequel, The Night Strangler (1973). More Curtis-helmed, televised terrors would follow. In 1974 he collaborated again with his Stalker/Strangler scripter, Richard Matheson, to make the overlooked and peculiar Scream of the Wolf. 

At first it seems as though things are off to a frantic and familiar start. People are attacked at night and the police arrive with sirens blaring only to pick up the bloody pieces. However, unlike other contemporary horror films influenced by The Night Stalker, law enforcement, represented by Sheriff Bell, accepts that this is no ordinary series of crimes and admits to not having any idea what is responsible. Bell immediately seeks the help of experienced hunter John Weatherby. The relationship between the sheriff and our hunter hero is cordial. 

Aside from the challenge of trying to track and kill the murderous creature, the main conflict for protagonist John Weatherby is with his old hunting pal, Byron Douglas. They drifted apart when Weatherby settled into a more domesticated lifestyle as a writer. Byron has always been the more extreme of the pair in his hunting mania. Byron’s life philosophy is based on hunting. He thinks that life is never more precious than at the moment of potential death for both hunter and prey. Byron also thinks that society is emasculating, and he implies that this has happened to his old friend John. 

As the killings continue in rapid succession, the rumor is spreading that the killer may be a werewolf. This further amuses Byron and he enjoys the panic spreading throughout the community. Byron thinks that the civilized locals are actually made to feel more alive by their fear. Both John and Sheriff Bell become increasingly irritated with Byron’s lack of concern and refusal to help. 

John’s girlfriend, Sandy Miller (Jo Ann Pflug), has always been creeped out by Byron. She suspects that Byron is involved with the killings. When John tries to explain his old friend’s hunter philosophy, he recounts an old hunting experience that left Byron badly wounded by a killer wolf. This only increases Sandy’s suspicions about John’s old, hunting buddy. 

There is a very intriguing friction between the characters of John, Byron, and Sandy. Former friends John and Byron have gone their separate ways. Initially, we are led to believe it may simply be changing priorities in John’s life as he transitions from avid hunter to author. Sandy’s apprehension about Byron may be more personal than just her distaste with his hunting fanaticism. She fears that Byron may lure John away from the domestic security of their relationship. 

Others have speculated that there is a homoerotic aspect between the characters of John and Byron. Once I was made aware of that speculation, it makes everything about the behavior of those two characters seem much less arbitrary. Also in the context of the times this story takes place, that sexual undercurrent being either indulged or suppressed by those characters informs their behaviors and justifies their conflict. It is a rather edgy concern for a ’70s made-for-TV movie that really adds depth to the attitudes of John, Byron, and Sandy. 

Peter Graves and Jo Ann Pflug were familiar television faces of the era. Graves will always be remembered as espionage operative Jim Phelps in the CBS network television series Mission: Impossible (1966-73), as well as in its ABC network revival series (1988-90). Pflug previously starred in producer-director Dan Curtis’ The Night Strangler. 

Clint Walker was perfectly cast against type as eccentric and unsettling hunter Byron Douglas. Walker had a long history of playing heroes in Western films and as the star of the ABC network television Western series Cheyenne (1955-62). Walker seems to really enjoy himself as Byron. He displays a smug air of superiority and contrariness to all around him. Walker’s Byron likes baiting others with his insight into the local menace while withholding any assistance. Walker’s huge stature and the gleam in his eye when he vents Byron’s passion for hunting make him a very intimidating presence. 

An interesting bit of casting is another towering actor with some horror genre credentials. Don Megowan plays Grant, Byron’s hired hand. Megowan was the Gill-man on land in The Creature Walks Among Us (1956), had starred as the hero of another werewolf-centric movie in The Werewolf (1956), and portrayed the Frankenstein Monster in the 1958 unsold pilot for the proposed television series Tales of Frankenstein. 

As always, director Dan Curtis makes things interesting and energetic with his shot choices and camera moves. He is ably assisted by the music of his frequent composer, Robert Cobert. This results in a film that keeps me just as captivated with the dialogue scenes as with the killings. Its intriguing perspective is that of John Weatherby trying to figure out just what the hell he is dealing with, which is just how anyone would have to approach this bizarre situation in real life. We are not allowed to get ahead of the hero tracking down the menace. With its rapidly rising body count, elusive threat, and unique character dynamics, Scream of the Wolf is one of my favorite TV terrors.

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.