(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In 1961, divorced Catholic couple Dom and Catherine Spages' life is upended when their teenage daughter Alice is suspected of her younger sister Karen's brutal murder during her First Holy Communion and a series of stabbings follow.”
Historically, Alice, Sweet Alice (1976) most definitely courted a great degree of controversy across several fronts.
For starters, writer/director Alfred Sole was lucky to have even gotten the picture made. In the wake of his first effort – an adult film under the name of Deep Sleep (1972) – the storyteller found himself on the receiving end of legal and financial woes when the pornographic feature was pulled from theaters over obscenity issues. From what I understand, he produced and shot the effort entirely without the required permits and such; and the resulting blowback – including the threat of imprisonment – put him in some compromising positions when he realized he wanted to work in film as a professional career.
Secondly, Alice dabbled a bit too closely and personally into the fictional affairs of the Catholic Church. While its story – that of a serial killer linked to a parish and its practitioners – was understandably bloody, critics and audiences alike didn’t take kindly to the depiction of faith and some associated iconography. Wikipedia.org reports that the film was seized and prohibited from theatrical exhibition in the United Kingdom with some nations even going so far as to declare the picture anti-Catholic. Add to this fact that Sole’s distributors kept coming and going as a consequence of these problems and one might agree that it’s surprising that Alice ever saw the light of day!
Well, the truth is that it did, albeit under a handful of different names, slightly diverse cuts, and at different times. In spite of the troubled road to screens big and small, Alice survived, and the end result is a story not so much about indicting institutionalized faith as it is a tale wherein its small cast of characters are all flawed equally regardless of their age, gender, or convictions. Frankly, there isn’t a saint anywhere among them – not even the men and women of the cloth – and it shows. That’s the territory firmly staked out by Sole and his co-scripter Rosemary Ritvo in every version available, and the narrative works well on that level.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In 1961, divorced Catholic couple Dom and Catherine Spages' life is upended when their teenage daughter Alice is suspected of her younger sister Karen's brutal murder during her First Holy Communion and a series of stabbings follow.”
Historically, Alice, Sweet Alice (1976) most definitely courted a great degree of controversy across several fronts.
For starters, writer/director Alfred Sole was lucky to have even gotten the picture made. In the wake of his first effort – an adult film under the name of Deep Sleep (1972) – the storyteller found himself on the receiving end of legal and financial woes when the pornographic feature was pulled from theaters over obscenity issues. From what I understand, he produced and shot the effort entirely without the required permits and such; and the resulting blowback – including the threat of imprisonment – put him in some compromising positions when he realized he wanted to work in film as a professional career.
Secondly, Alice dabbled a bit too closely and personally into the fictional affairs of the Catholic Church. While its story – that of a serial killer linked to a parish and its practitioners – was understandably bloody, critics and audiences alike didn’t take kindly to the depiction of faith and some associated iconography. Wikipedia.org reports that the film was seized and prohibited from theatrical exhibition in the United Kingdom with some nations even going so far as to declare the picture anti-Catholic. Add to this fact that Sole’s distributors kept coming and going as a consequence of these problems and one might agree that it’s surprising that Alice ever saw the light of day!
Well, the truth is that it did, albeit under a handful of different names, slightly diverse cuts, and at different times. In spite of the troubled road to screens big and small, Alice survived, and the end result is a story not so much about indicting institutionalized faith as it is a tale wherein its small cast of characters are all flawed equally regardless of their age, gender, or convictions. Frankly, there isn’t a saint anywhere among them – not even the men and women of the cloth – and it shows. That’s the territory firmly staked out by Sole and his co-scripter Rosemary Ritvo in every version available, and the narrative works well on that level.
After her marriage falls apart and her husband moves along, Catherine Spages (played by Linda Miller) finds solace in the embrace of her surviving family and her local church. Daughters Alice (Paula E. Sheppard) and Karen (Brooke Shields) remain at her side, though it grows somewhat obvious that Cathy might not have turned out to be the best mother she could be as the emotional aftermath of her broken nuptials has increased the strain of serving as the head of the household. To her benefit, she’s found some welcome support from the earnest Father Tom (Rudolph Willrich), who seems to have fostered a kind relationship with Karen, seemingly preferred the younger daughter over the slightly older Alice. As Karen is about to receive her first communion, he seems equally proud to have shared in her upbringing as any parent would.
While imparting the joy of uniting with others around a shared faith, Alice (as a film) simultaneously explores the dissolution of the nuclear family in these early scenes. Cathy and her sister Annie (Jane Lowry) share parenting responsibilities in the Spages’ home; and just as Father Tom appears to have issues with Alice, so does the aunt. The two spar pettily over the completion of household chores; and about the time that it looks as if their relationship has only been combative Sole’s story also suggests that both Cathy and Annie might have had a rough ride through their own upbringing. Clearly, not all is copacetic with the Spages’ women – both generations – and one needn’t be a professional therapist to predict that further turmoil is on the horizon.
It's in the holy confines of the church – that sacred sanctuary for all – in the midst of the scheduled ceremony that the unthinkable happens: while the other children are receiving their blessing, young Karen is strangled to death in the anteroom and stuffed into a small hutch where her raincoated attacker then sets her body on fire. Once Alice is found in possession of her sister’s missing veil, all eyes turn on her as the guilty culprit.
And why wouldn’t they?
At home, she’s grown increasingly difficult and argumentative, acting out against her mother and their creepy landlord, Mr. Alphonso (Alphonso DeNoble). Not even the return of her father Dominic (Niles McMaster) seems to bring her any peace of mind, though she seems to find some small comfort in knowing that he’s pledged to stay around until Karen’s murder is solved. Still, on the cusp of turning into a woman, Cathy’s begun menstruating. Her body has begun going through the biological, hormonal changes. Her metamorphosis is seen as a gateway toward even greater treachery. Once she fails the police-required polygraph, she’s ordered to undergo a psychiatric evaluation; and the doctor believes the young woman is displaying classic borderline psychotic behaviors.
While imparting the joy of uniting with others around a shared faith, Alice (as a film) simultaneously explores the dissolution of the nuclear family in these early scenes. Cathy and her sister Annie (Jane Lowry) share parenting responsibilities in the Spages’ home; and just as Father Tom appears to have issues with Alice, so does the aunt. The two spar pettily over the completion of household chores; and about the time that it looks as if their relationship has only been combative Sole’s story also suggests that both Cathy and Annie might have had a rough ride through their own upbringing. Clearly, not all is copacetic with the Spages’ women – both generations – and one needn’t be a professional therapist to predict that further turmoil is on the horizon.
It's in the holy confines of the church – that sacred sanctuary for all – in the midst of the scheduled ceremony that the unthinkable happens: while the other children are receiving their blessing, young Karen is strangled to death in the anteroom and stuffed into a small hutch where her raincoated attacker then sets her body on fire. Once Alice is found in possession of her sister’s missing veil, all eyes turn on her as the guilty culprit.
And why wouldn’t they?
At home, she’s grown increasingly difficult and argumentative, acting out against her mother and their creepy landlord, Mr. Alphonso (Alphonso DeNoble). Not even the return of her father Dominic (Niles McMaster) seems to bring her any peace of mind, though she seems to find some small comfort in knowing that he’s pledged to stay around until Karen’s murder is solved. Still, on the cusp of turning into a woman, Cathy’s begun menstruating. Her body has begun going through the biological, hormonal changes. Her metamorphosis is seen as a gateway toward even greater treachery. Once she fails the police-required polygraph, she’s ordered to undergo a psychiatric evaluation; and the doctor believes the young woman is displaying classic borderline psychotic behaviors.
In the style of Psychological Horror, a good deal of this is clever misdirection. That’s the beauty of exploring storytelling that has layers to it: you never quite know what you have until you reach the big finish, and – even then – you might question the diagnosis. Sole’s tale pivots to Drama and Mystery as much as it is a true chiller, but the auteur keeps his list of suspects reasonably small until, ultimately, you know what you know. Surprisingly, he doesn’t make you wait until the last reel, though when the last frame does arrive the audience might find themselves rethinking precisely how they got to that point. This construction allows the film to truly blossom – much as young Alice is doing – in its second half: it’s vastly more than the sum of its pieces, and, aesthetically, it about as close to Italian Giallo that perhaps has ever been made on this side of the pond.
There’s a great deal to enjoy for those meeting Alice for the first time. The family moments are occasionally cryptic and quite tense as not one but two sets of sisters turn on one another. Sheppard’s work here is quite good considering she was little more than a teenager: she reportedly turned nineteen while shooting the picture. To her credit, she manages an odd degree of charged eroticism whilst terrorizing the downstairs landlord, and her ability to command attention elevates even those moments when the audience remains uncertain as to her character’s motivation. For such a breakout performance, it’s surprising that she has only two credits on her professional resume.
As to the religious controversy, it’s easy to see where some may’ve taken issue with Sole’s presentation. Most of it descends from the depiction of Catholicism and the way sinners process guilt; and I suppose I’d largely agree were it not for the fact that, frankly, no institution in here emerges with looking good. Mom fails. Dad fails. The church fails. Why, the family unit, the medical community, and even law enforcement seems to be broken, inept, or corrupted in some way in this God forsaken place; and there isn’t a single truly good role model in any of this. Because Sole and Ritvo seem to be saying something critical about the wider world out there, I guess I’m less inclined to pick nits with God and his flock.
In fact, there’s a rundown building in Alice that I believe symbolizes the existence in which all of the elements collide.
Though I may’ve missed whatever business resided under this roof, the hints are that it was probably industrial, implying that something – some product, some gadget, some indefinable thing – was likely built there, only that invention is now obsolete. Social progress made it unnecessary, or someone designed a better one. Since that original is no longer needed or useful, those craftsmen and women who made it and the place where they gathered to assemble it grew insignificant. The workers are gone now. Their building is shuttered. Yet – interestingly enough – the guard dogs remain as we hear them barking off in some sealed up corner of the warehouse. Whatever this space once was, it most definitely no longer is. It’s assuredly been tossed aside and serves no purpose other than to be a dangerous escape where wayward children might now gather and, probably, injure themselves.
Here is where Karen and Alice come to play.
There’s a great deal to enjoy for those meeting Alice for the first time. The family moments are occasionally cryptic and quite tense as not one but two sets of sisters turn on one another. Sheppard’s work here is quite good considering she was little more than a teenager: she reportedly turned nineteen while shooting the picture. To her credit, she manages an odd degree of charged eroticism whilst terrorizing the downstairs landlord, and her ability to command attention elevates even those moments when the audience remains uncertain as to her character’s motivation. For such a breakout performance, it’s surprising that she has only two credits on her professional resume.
As to the religious controversy, it’s easy to see where some may’ve taken issue with Sole’s presentation. Most of it descends from the depiction of Catholicism and the way sinners process guilt; and I suppose I’d largely agree were it not for the fact that, frankly, no institution in here emerges with looking good. Mom fails. Dad fails. The church fails. Why, the family unit, the medical community, and even law enforcement seems to be broken, inept, or corrupted in some way in this God forsaken place; and there isn’t a single truly good role model in any of this. Because Sole and Ritvo seem to be saying something critical about the wider world out there, I guess I’m less inclined to pick nits with God and his flock.
In fact, there’s a rundown building in Alice that I believe symbolizes the existence in which all of the elements collide.
Though I may’ve missed whatever business resided under this roof, the hints are that it was probably industrial, implying that something – some product, some gadget, some indefinable thing – was likely built there, only that invention is now obsolete. Social progress made it unnecessary, or someone designed a better one. Since that original is no longer needed or useful, those craftsmen and women who made it and the place where they gathered to assemble it grew insignificant. The workers are gone now. Their building is shuttered. Yet – interestingly enough – the guard dogs remain as we hear them barking off in some sealed up corner of the warehouse. Whatever this space once was, it most definitely no longer is. It’s assuredly been tossed aside and serves no purpose other than to be a dangerous escape where wayward children might now gather and, probably, injure themselves.
Here is where Karen and Alice come to play.
What was once a place of high function is now an empty edifice, one where you bring whatever danger you wish with you. Like those institutions that Sole reminds have failed us – the Church, the family, the hospitals, law enforcement, etc. – so, too, have we failed as a civilization. We leave not only broken people in our wake but also broken places. The only thing we have to show for our troubles is a big empty warehouse; and that’s the kind of place where kids privately terrorize one another, dogs are left to their own devices, and killers seek to perform their darkest of deeds.
If that doesn’t chill you just a bit, then this nugget might: actress Miller actually attempted suicide on set while shooting one of the bigger sequences. (Sole details this in one of the extras on Arrow’s newly released set.) Thankfully, she survived in no small part owed to the efforts of a watchful cast and crew; but fans watching the film closely might notice a bandaged wrist on the lady here and there. That’s because she had to wear it whilst completing production on the film as she was still healing from the breakdown.
Alice, Sweet Alice (1974) was produced by Harristown Funding. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert … wow. This film both looks and sounds incredible, said to have been restored to 4K from the original camera negative. There are a few sequences with some rather obvious grain, but it’s nothing that distracts from the enjoyment of the story. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, that’s Arrow’s specialty, so I’m doing the noble copy-and-paste from their press release previously published on Blu-ray.com:
Special Features and Technical Specs:
Once again, as a reviewer I’m only provided an industry copy of the disc, so I cannot speak to the efficacy of any association physical materials listed above. In those matters, I’ll always remind readers of the old ‘buyer beware’ clause.
Highly Recommended.
Alice, Sweet Alice (1976) might be a bit dated, but its ideas are still the stuff that likely haunt us in our quietest moments. Each of us wants to belong somewhere; and – when we cannot or do not – the break leaves a scar that can’t quite heal and continues to itch to the point wherein we’d do anything to – ahem – make it go away. It’s in this territory that these characters intersect; and it’s here where they seek affirmation that they’re still loved, that they’re still good people, and that they’re still deserving of affection, no matter what they did to get it. It’s that “what they did to get it” that has body piling up pretty quickly, and there’s little absolution for that.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Alice, Sweet Alice (1974) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
If that doesn’t chill you just a bit, then this nugget might: actress Miller actually attempted suicide on set while shooting one of the bigger sequences. (Sole details this in one of the extras on Arrow’s newly released set.) Thankfully, she survived in no small part owed to the efforts of a watchful cast and crew; but fans watching the film closely might notice a bandaged wrist on the lady here and there. That’s because she had to wear it whilst completing production on the film as she was still healing from the breakdown.
Alice, Sweet Alice (1974) was produced by Harristown Funding. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert … wow. This film both looks and sounds incredible, said to have been restored to 4K from the original camera negative. There are a few sequences with some rather obvious grain, but it’s nothing that distracts from the enjoyment of the story. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, that’s Arrow’s specialty, so I’m doing the noble copy-and-paste from their press release previously published on Blu-ray.com:
Special Features and Technical Specs:
- Brand new 4K restoration by Arrow Films from the original camera negative
- 4K presentations of three versions via seamless branching: Communion (original), Alice, Sweet Alice (theatrical) and Holy Terror (re-release)
- Original lossless mono audio
- Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
- Brand new audio commentary with Richard Harland Smith
- Archival audio commentary with co-writer/director Alfred Sole and editor M. Edward Salier
- First Communion: Alfred Sole Remembers Alice, Sweet Alice – director Alfred Sole looks back on his 1976 classic
- Alice on My Mind – a brand-new interview with composer Stephen Lawrence
- In the Name of the Father - brand new interview with actor Niles McMaster
- Sweet Memories: Dante Tomaselli on Alice, Sweet Alice – filmmaker Dante Tomaselli, cousin of Alfred Sole, discusses his longtime connection to the film
- Lost Childhood: The Locations of Alice, Sweet Alice - a tour of the original Alice, Sweet Alice shooting locations hosted by author Michael Gingold
- Deleted scenes
- Split-screen version comparison
- Trailer and TV Spot
- Image gallery, including the original screenplay
- Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Gilles Vranckx
- Illustrated collector’s booklet featuring new writing on the film by Michael Blyth
Once again, as a reviewer I’m only provided an industry copy of the disc, so I cannot speak to the efficacy of any association physical materials listed above. In those matters, I’ll always remind readers of the old ‘buyer beware’ clause.
Highly Recommended.
Alice, Sweet Alice (1976) might be a bit dated, but its ideas are still the stuff that likely haunt us in our quietest moments. Each of us wants to belong somewhere; and – when we cannot or do not – the break leaves a scar that can’t quite heal and continues to itch to the point wherein we’d do anything to – ahem – make it go away. It’s in this territory that these characters intersect; and it’s here where they seek affirmation that they’re still loved, that they’re still good people, and that they’re still deserving of affection, no matter what they did to get it. It’s that “what they did to get it” that has body piling up pretty quickly, and there’s little absolution for that.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Alice, Sweet Alice (1974) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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