October is one hell of a month for horror movie fans, thanks largely, in the US anyway, to TCM, which brings it strong.

My personal taste in horror is influenced by what I watched growing up, which was largely courtesy of UHF television and Dr. Shock, a faux vampire host modeled on John Zacherle’s Roland (himself a famous ghoul who appeared on TV in Philly and New York in the 50’s and 60’s).

Dr. Shock’s broadcasts were heavy on the Universal and Hammer canon along with other varieties of schlock horror from such eminent sources as Roger Corman, particularly his work for AIP (all those Poe movies).

I watched parts of a dozen or so films over the past week, and I will highlight six of them in this series of post. This is not intended to be a “best of” list, or even my personal favorites; but rather the kind of viewing that happens when you just turn on TCM to see what is on offer.

Eye of the Devil was a new one for me, a stylish occult thriller from 1966, directed by J. Lee Thompson, and starring Deborah Kerr, David Niven, Donald Pleasence, Sharon Tate and David Hemmings – a pretty upscale cast for a thriller.

The opening montage sequence is truly exceptional, and made me wonder if somehow Nic Roeg was involved (he was not, but the editor was Ernest Walker, who worked on The Haunting just a few years before). Both films are in black-and-white, which gives them a classy look, especially compared to the lurid colors of Hammer films from the same era (not that there is anything wrong with luridness).

Here is the opening montage:

David Niven plays the hereditary owner of an ancient estate in Bordeaux whose vineyards have produced no fruit for three years. When he is abruptly summoned to the estate, a sinister priest (Donald Pleasence) gives him a strange amulet. His wife (Deborah Kerr) comes to visit with their children, against his wishes, and pretty soon, there are strange hooded figures, a secret ceremony involving a dove impaled on an arrow, a dosing of the wife with belladonna, and two obviously-tied-in-with-some-ancient-ritual siblings from the village played by an always-carrying-a-bow-and-arrow David Hemmings and a perpetually-stone-faced Sharon Tate, who turns a toad into a dove. Did I mention they are always dressed in black?

This was Tate’s first film role – her next would be The Fearless Vampire Killers. Hemmings had been on the screen (and TV) from an early age. His next role would be in Blow Up.

The movie is based on a 1964 novel Day of the Arrow by Robin Estridge. Anthony Boucher in his review of the novel at the time opined that the plot’s ritual sacrifice angle would “come as no surprise to anyone who has ever leafed through The Golden Bough“. Oh for the days when a reference to this masterwork of Sir James Frazer could be tossed off so casually in a mystery novel review!

None of the village crowd are good influences on the children. When Odile de Caray (Sharon Tate) charms the children with her toad-to-dove trick, Mom (Deborah Kerr) is not impressed.

When Dad finds out how naughty Odile has been, he administers some discipline that she unsurprisingly seems to enjoy.

Viewers will quickly figure out that the hooded figures are pursuing this ritual stuff on behalf of “the Greater Good”, a la the similar figures in Hot Fuzz. In fact, this film could be paired with Hot Fuzz for a vertical tasting of the occult – but then, when is viewing Hot Fuzz anything but satisfying?

A legit occultist (if such a thing is possible), Alex Sanders, was brought in as a consultant to ensure the ceremonies were up-to-snuff, so to speak.

Speaking of snuff, you may have figured out that someone has to die in this tale, a la The Wicker Man. I’ll leave that bit of mystery unrevealed.

All in, this is a fairly well-produced addition to the mystery/horror list, and suitable for neophyte classic horror fans who aren’t quite up yet to the flowing red stuff that will come with the Hammer films we will talk about.

Next Up: Curse of the Demon, from 1957, from director Jacques Tourneur, of Cat People and I Walked with a Zombie fame.