26 Oct 23
Tales of ghosts and the supernatural have proved a popular cinematic subject since the medium's inception, with the spookiness of flickering, spectral lights in a darkened room having previously made them a prevalent feature of nineteenth-century magic lantern shows.
Nor should we forget that when the Lumière brothers presented their first projected film show in 1895, they did so during the heights of a revived interest in spiritualism; ghostly projections found their place in spurious séances and moving picture shows alike.
One of the early cinema's most influential pioneers was the former stage illusionist Georges Méliès, whose effects-laden short films presented magic in motion. It did not take long for him to add The Haunted Castle (1896) to his repertoire.
Yet, despite cinema's ever-increasing capacity to conjure convincing worlds of fantasy and imagination before our very eyes, the technological advances of the ensuing decades have not comprised the only cinematic tradition of terror.
Producer Val Lewton, head of RKO Pictures' horror unit in the 1940s, firmly believed the suggestion of unseen terrors could induce jitters far more effectively than any palpable bogeyman. The unit's inaugural production, Cat People (1942), offers a masterful illustration of his thesis. Its director, Jacques Tourneur, went on to make further effective use of this technique to build suspense through the course of one of my favourite films of our season, Night of the Demon (1957) – although, as the publicity materials illustrate, producer Hal Chester eventually won the day in the debate about whether to unveil the demon on screen.
The technique of sinister suggestion owes much to a literary tradition popularised by such late-Victorian and Edwardian-era short story writers as Edith Wharton, Rudyard Kipling and M. R. James (all of whom Hogg credits as influences for The Eternal Daughter), in which creeping dread of the unknown wreaks spine-tingling effects on protagonists and readers alike.
Ghosts played a key role within this genre, but as each film in our season testifies, otherworldly spectres are not the only things that haunt.
All our film selections owe much to the literary gothic; you won't be short-changed on big empty houses, sinister servants, or rolling mists. But, whereas all their protagonists are haunted by the suspected encroachment of something uncanny and unearthly, they are haunted equally by the demons within.
Guilt, self-doubt, sexual neurosis, and childhood trauma play havoc with the nerves. Are the ghosts that hover around them the embodiment of malevolent forces from beyond, or are they the projections of their own psyches? And which of those alternatives is the worst? We invite you to delve into the heart of darkness and immerse yourself in these tour de forces of terror as their makers intended you to see them, presented on the big screen.
As you tremble in the dark while the icy tendrils of fear wrap themselves around you, be warned: many historic Picturehouse cinemas – in Bath, Brighton (Duke of York's), East Dulwich, Oxford, Norwich and York – have their own ghostly legends. Are those fleeting shadows and noises from behind you all part of the show… or is there something else there?
The Haunting
From 03 Nov | Book Now
Unfolding almost entirely within the dark portals of Hill House, a sprawling neo-gothic mansion notorious for its tragic history, The Haunting centres on the socially isolated and psychologically fragile Eleanor Lance (Julie Harris), who seizes on an invitation to join a ghost-hunting experiment as a much-needed opportunity to break away from her repressive family circumstances. Adapted from Shirley Jackson's then-recent 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House, it was directed by the versatile Robert Wise – an alumnus of Val Lewton's RKO horror unit, for which his early-career credits included the poignant supernatural fantasy The Curse of the Cat People (1944) and a 1945 adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson's The Body Snatcher. By the time of The Haunting, Wise had already gained experience working on a larger canvas with the spectacular West Side Story (1961) and, despite its claustrophobic confines, this truly is a haunting on an epic scale. Julie Harris and Claire Bloom (as the psychic Theodora, sporting a divine wardrobe by Mary Quant) deliver powerhouse performances; Ettington Park Hotel in Stratford-upon-Avon provides the unforgettable house exterior; while an unnerving score by Humphrey Searle and top-notch cinematography by Davis Boulton add further polish to the project.
Night of the Demon
From 11 Nov | Book Now
In this masterly adaptation of M. R. James's short story 'Casting the Runes', first published in 1911, American academic John Holden (Dana Andrews) arrives in London to discover that the colleague he was due to meet at a parapsychology conference has died in unusual circumstances. His investigation brings him into contact with occultist Julian Karswell (an outstanding Niall MacGuinness), who claims to have placed the fatal curse. Holden is sceptical, but it soon emerges that his all-American dedication to modernity and rationalism will be sorely tested in a land where ancient folk wisdom still holds sway under the long shadows of Stonehenge. It is no surprise that, in recent years, Night of the Demon, which originally entered production under the title 'The Haunted', has been reappraised as a pioneering example of the now-thriving folk horror genre.
The Innocents
From 19 Nov | Book Now
125 years after its first publication in 1898, Henry James's now-legendary novella, 'The Turn of the Screw', has lost none of its capacity to chill. It has provided the material for numerous stage and screen adaptations, of which The Innocents is almost universally acclaimed as the finest. Set in an isolated English country estate (with house exteriors filmed at Sheffield Park and Garden in East Sussex), this timeless psychological thriller tells the story of Miss Giddens (Deborah Kerr), a governess entrusted with the care of two orphaned children. Upon arrival at the foreboding manor, she is immediately struck by her wards' strange behaviour and the secrets that seem to lurk within the shadows. Director Jack Clayton skillfully weaves a tapestry of ambiguity, blurring the lines between reality and the supernatural. Is the house truly haunted, or is Miss Giddens descending into madness? Featuring impeccable cinematography by Freddie Francis and a hauntingly atmospheric score by Georges Auric, The Innocents ratchets up the tension to eleven as it explores themes of repressed sexuality and psychological torment.
Crimson Peak
From 24 Nov | Book Now
'Ghosts are real, that much I know. I've seen them all my life.' So begins Edith Cushing's (Mia Wasikowska) narration at the start of Crimson Peak. For our season finale, we leave behind the subtle and restrained occult ambiguities of our first three offerings to embark upon an exhilarating rollercoaster ride through blood-soaked gothic romance and Grand Guignol excess. Set in the late nineteenth century, this effective variant on the classic Bluebeard story, where a strong-willed young woman is seduced by an enigmatic charmer into a hasty and imprudent marriage, sees Edith leave America to take up residence in a crumbling English stately pile with her new husband Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) and his sinister sister, Lucille (Jessica Chastain). It is a decision she will soon regret. Fourteen years after director Guillermo del Toro's first excursion into the haunted house genre – the quietly unnerving The Devil's Backbone (2001) – this masterpiece of the macabre raises the bar with sumptuous production design and breathtaking cinematography. Yet, there is more to Crimson Peak than its dazzling surfaces; like all of the films in our season, it ultimately lays bare the darkness that lurks within us all.
From beloved classics to unearthed gems, reintroduce yourself to the best films of yesterday with reDiscover — be that last decade, or last century. reDiscover is free for Picturehouse Members, and all tickets are just £8.