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.

THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN (1973)

Director: Richard Irving

Writers: Henri Simoun (Howard Rodman) adapting Martin Caidin’s novel Cyborg

Producer: Richard Irving  

Cast: Lee Majors, Martin Balsam, Darren McGavin, Barbara Anderson, Ivor Barry, Charles Knox Robinson, Anne Whitfield, Maurice Sherbanee, Robert Cornthwaite, Olan Soulé, Dorothy Greene, Norma Storch, George Wallace, John Mark Robinson

Former astronaut Steve Austin (Lee Majors) crashes during his test flight of an experimental aircraft for NASA. His injuries include the loss of his left eye, right arm, and both legs. Austin’s friend and attending physician, Dr. Rudy Wells (Martin Balsam), is approached by Oliver Spencer (Darren McGavin), the director of a government agency called the Office of Strategic Operations. Spencer is aware of Dr. Wells’ theories regarding the replacement of human limbs with functioning, lifelike, mechanical substitutes. He supplies Dr. Wells the millions of dollars needed to reconstruct Steve Austin into a cyborg (part man and part machine). After the surgery and recuperation, Spencer wants to employ Austin’s cyborg abilities on special missions for the OSO. However, Steve Austin is despondent about his strange, new condition and is reluctant to have any more to do with the government.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

The Six Million Dollar Man has always been a favorite movie of mine. When this boob tube brat saw its first broadcast on the ABC network, I just knew that it had to become a series. At that time, I had no idea that television films were ever made in the hope that high ratings would justify the development of an ongoing series; I was just so buzzed about it that I thought fate somehow had to intervene to make me happy by providing a weekly dose of this as a new video vice. Aside from its status as the pilot for the iconic 1970s television series (which inspired a succession of other superhero programs), The Six Million Dollar Man is terrific as a stand-alone science fiction film and was nominated for a 1974 Hugo Award.

This TV-movie is a streamlined adaptation of Martin Caidin’s 1972 novel Cyborg. He would write three sequel novels about his part-man and part-machine hero, Steve Austin. Caidin had an aviation and aeronautics background and wrote novels about World War II and space travel. His science fiction included current technological innovations and their future development and application. Caidin’s earlier 1964 novel Marooned (about the attempt to rescue NASA astronauts orbiting the Earth) had been made into the 1969 movie. Caidin first used the word “bionics” in his 1968 science fiction novel The God Machine, but he did not actually invent that term. (Don’t feel bad; I only just discovered that on my smart phone a minute ago.) Of course, it is The Six Million Dollar Man television series that made bionics a household word. Although Caidin’s novel refers to the technology implanted into his hero’s body as bionics, that term is never used in this pilot film.

The opening scene of the movie is the desert-based airstrip where NASA and the U.S. military are about to conduct an experimental test flight. This is the setup for the tragedy that puts the plot in motion and establishes the plight for our hero, former astronaut and test pilot Steve Austin. He makes a distinctive entrance that establishes his personality and foreshadows his fate. We first see Steve Austin as a lone figure approaching from a distance on a morning stroll returning from the barren desert onto the airstrip. This visually suggests Austin’s independence and his imminent isolation as a technological prototype which will eventually lead him to another even more lonely and dangerous desert-bound mission. We see Austin’s camaraderie while he makes small talk with the other NASA personnel as he returns, and we enjoy his nonchalance that irks the uptight general at the airstrip. Austin is immediately established as down-to-earth, confident, and likable. This is efficient storytelling and character building that puts us squarely on Austin’s side within the film’s first few minutes.

Steve Austin’s tragic test flight is very well realized with plenty of NASA stock footage intercut with Austin at the aircraft’s controls and radio chatter between him, escort planes, and the ground crew. The final footage of the ill-fated test flight is of an actual 1967 crash of the M2-F2 lifting body aircraft. That real accident’s NASA test pilot was Bruce Peterson. He was badly injured but recovered. Unfortunately, Peterson lost the sight in one eye due to an infection in the hospital.

Lee Majors was perfect casting for Steve Austin. He has the rugged good looks and athleticism that suit an action hero. Most importantly, Majors has a likability that has us rooting for him while he maintains some emotional reserve that makes us believe he has the discipline and stability to be capable of heroism. Before his acting career, Majors suffered a serious back injury playing college football that left him paralyzed from the waist down for two weeks. One must wonder if the memory of that trauma and the awful suspense of recuperation informed Lee Majors’ performance as the maimed and hospitalized Steve Austin. By 1973 Majors had already starred in three television series and would go on to star in several more. It is with this pilot film of The Six Million Dollar Man that Lee Majors begins his most famous role.

Martin Balsam’s movie immortality was already established as the private detective Milton Arbogast in Alfred Hitchcock’s classic Psycho (1960). He provides great support as Austin’s friend and physician, Dr. Rudy Wells. It is his character’s medical genius that restores our damaged hero to a full-bodied, superhuman state. Balsam’s narration as Wells immediately creates a sense of foreboding as the story begins and later explains the pioneering technology used to rebuild Steve Austin. Balsam’s Dr. Wells is both brilliant and compassionate. In the subsequent series, the role of Wells would be played by Alan Oppenheimer and Martin E. Brooks.

The great Darren McGavin appears in the crucial role of Oliver Spencer, the callous, government bureaucrat that has been planning to fund a cyborg project to create technologically enhanced humans for espionage and military operations. Spencer decides that Steve Austin’s catastrophe presents the perfect subject for a cyborg prototype. Spencer practically steamrolls over Dr. Wells when he presents him the proposition to turn the comatose Steve Austin into a cyborg. McGavin’s performance as the heartlessly pragmatic Spencer is a joy to watch. This role was just one year after McGavin had first portrayed the more admirable character of newspaper reporter Carl Kolchak in the record-setting TV-ratings blockbuster The Night Stalker (1972). That fine film would lead to a sequel, The Night Strangler (1973), and then the weekly series, Kolchak: The Night Stalker (1974-75).

During Steve Austin’s recuperation and reconstruction, Jean Manners is his personal nurse. Her affection for her patient makes the physically rebuilt, emotionally damaged Austin confront his new self-image as a once ideal specimen of manhood that is now partly artificial. Jean Manners is played by incandescent-eyed Barbara Anderson. She had guest-starred on many television series and won the Primetime Emmy Award for her ongoing supporting role of Police Officer Eve Whitfield in the series Ironside (1967-71).

One of my favorite scenes of any sci-fi film occurs after Dr. Wells and his team have performed the surgery attaching Steve Austin’s artificial limbs. Austin regains consciousness and weakly quips to Wells, “Dr. Frankenstein, I presume?” The rest of the scene plays without dialogue as we see Austin lying in his hospital bed coping with the strange sensations of his new cyborg body and his mental struggle to make his mechanical attachments respond. As his new arm rises into his field of vision, Austin’s expression passes from strain to horror to hope. Majors, Balsam, and Anderson give very moving silent performances underscored by the awe generated with Gil Mellé’s idiosyncratic and powerful music.

Some departures from the source novel concern Steve Austin’s cyborg modifications. I am guessing that Austin in the movie has his right arm rather than the left arm replaced because actor Lee Majors was probably right-handed. In the novel, Austin’s artificial eye could not see, but it could take photographs with an enclosed miniature camera. Similarly, his bionics limbs had compartments concealing devices, such as an underwater breathing apparatus in his leg and retractable swimming flippers in his feet. The middle finger of his bionics hand could shoot poisoned darts. While Austin’s bionics limbs of the novel were tireless and formidable weapons, they were made much more powerful in the film. Lee Majors’ character can run sixty miles per hour and tear off car doors. His artificial eye can not only replicate human vision, but in the later episodes it can see in the dark and has zoom in capability over long distances or for up-close detail.

There are also interesting and effective character alterations from the Cyborg source novel. The ruthless Oliver Spencer originates in the TV-movie and provides more immediate dramatic conflict with the characters of Steve Austin and Dr. Rudy Wells than any government official does in the novel. Spencer’s agenda as the OSO director to develop Austin as a weapon is not enthusiastically received by either Wells or Austin. The movie also modifies Steve Austin’s character; he is a civilian member of the space program instead of a military colonel. This establishes Austin as a man not accustomed to military protocol, which makes him apprehensive about what the government and Oliver Spencer have planned for him. These changes in a simplified movie plot dial up the drama to deal with a couple more character concerns than the novel. Conversely, the ongoing television series would replace OSO director Oliver Spencer with the novel’s less antagonistic Oscar Goldman (Richard Anderson) as director of the OSI (Office of Scientific Intelligence) and make Austin a USAF Colonel, after all.

While the film’s Steve Austin suffers the same accident and reconstruction as the novel’s character, he is made a bit more sympathetic. In the novel, Austin is chiefly concerned with his ability to gain mastery over the new technology that has been attached to him. He is also angered by his initial helplessness and fears that his manhood and virility are diminished by so much of his original body having been destroyed. The Austin of the film has those same emotions, but as he is not a member of the military, he is more suspect of the government and averse to killing. Despite the character’s trauma and frustrations, Lee Majors makes his Steve Austin more appealing than the somewhat surly and cold-blooded character of the novel.

It is Steve Austin’s ambivalence in the film that creates more tension for us during the mission Oliver Spencer assigns him. We wonder how capable and determined Austin will be when he is sent out into the desert of Saudi Arabia to rescue an important hostage held by terrorists.

The Six Million Dollar Man is another fine example of the compelling science fiction films that were being made in the early 1970s. I think science fiction should not just be a genre used to create fantasy worlds; it can speculate about the real-world consequences of scientific developments and their impact on individuals and society. Although this film depicts potential benefits of man merging with technology, it also stresses humanity and independence. As we become ever more dependent on technology, we must maintain and protect those vital human attributes.