Made-For-TV Madness

When I talk horror films with other enthusiasts I always feel the need to point out that my interest in the genre wanes after the early seventies, when Christopher Lee hung up his cape and Leatherface picked up his chainsaw. Give me a Hammer or Universal film any day -- I wouldn't stop channel surfing for a moment to pause on Linda Blair puking green bile. I'd rather sit through the worst fifties movie that the gang at MST3K could dish up versus Jason hacking up camp counselors because they weren't virgins. (What's up with that recurring theme in slasher flicks anyhow?)

Although antichrists and psychotics crowded vampires and werewolves off of movie marquees seemingly overnight, any true-blue horror fan knows that no true monster stays dead forever. Instead the real fun horror made it to television in the 1970s. And thanks to the space-age miracle of the digital video disc, I can cook me up a Tony's pizza, put on a pair of corduroys, warm up the cathode ray tube and -- viola -- it's the age of sideburns and Watergate all over again.

I walked into my local Best Buy the other day fully intending to buy one of their exclusive Midnite Movies Double Features, but found myself at the checkout line instead with a double-shot of Darren McGavin. The Night Stalker/The Night Strangler were two highly rated TV Movies of the Week that were precursors to the show Kolchak: The Night Stalker.

I still scan the Sci-Fi Channel listings for the odd screening of the classic monster-of-the-week show. Although the series is still fondly remembered by baby boomers today, I have to admit that the TV movies just do the concept much better justice. In The Night Stalker, Carl Kolchak is a down-on-his-luck newspaper reporter who comes across a vampire in contemporary Las Vegas. In The Night Strangler, he matches wits with a century and a half old murderer in the underground ruins of Seattle.

The movies look gorgeous on DVD, especially considering their low-budget origins. Both films have their share of shocks, and Darren McGavin, playing the perpetual underdog, brings a fun sense of humor to the whole thing. Some of his lines were so funny that I almost squirted milk out my nose, which should give you an indication as to how hilarious they were because I wasn't even drinking milk at the time. Considering the double feature only set me back $9.99 at Best Buy, I feel pretty safe in recommending it to any horror fan.

Next up is a journey not only into sight and sound, but of mind... Er, well, almost. The Night Gallery (1970 - 1973) was Rod Serling's follow-up to The Twilight Zone. Season One -- plus the 1969 pilot movie -- is now out on DVD. I've enjoyed browsing through the gallery again, reliving so many nightmares of my childhood: dead men crawling out of graves... a killer doll... and strange paintings. I was pretty young when this show originally aired, so I'm amazed that I remember so much of it.

This is going to sound really weird, but the seventies setting really works against the show. Even though he says submitted for your approval just like he did in Twilight Zone, I just couldn't quite get used to seeing Rod Serling in living color, with sideburns and a groovy hairdo. It's the same feeling you get when you run into a coworker outside of the workplace, and they're wearing a pair of ratty jeans and a Rush t-shirt. I just couldn't shake the feeling that Rod had accidentally wandered into The Twilight Zone by accident on his day off.

One episode in particular suffers from seventies-itis... "They're Tearing Down Old Riley's Bar" is a gentle fantasy that would have been one of the classic black and white Twilight Zones. Touching story. Great acting. But I found it hard to take the dramatics seriously when they were delivered by a guy wearing a giant wide tie to a girl in a polka-dot mini dress. Sometimes the scariest thing about Night Gallery is the clothes! It got me thinking -- were all clothes in the seventies that ugly? Browsing through my childhood photos, I'd have to say YES!

My verdict? I'd pay my admission to the Night Gallery just for the nostalgia value alone. That said, while the show delivers some great moments, it's a little too inconsistent in quality compared to its big brother to win many new fans. But people wanting to relive their childhood should have no trouble shelling out the $40-$50 bucks to own the series on DVD.

The fun horror celebrated by magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland didn't completely die out in the seventies. It just moved to the boob tube. I think I need to make another shopping excursion to Best Buy. I'll pass right by the axe-wielding psychopaths and demon-possessed killers. (But enough about the clerks...) I'll dig through the shelves to see if I can find some more made-for-TV madness like Gargoyles, Trilogy of Terror or Don't Be Afraid of The Dark!