What’s transcendent about Horror is that – whether we like it or not – the genre always tells us something about ourselves.
Who we are and what frightens us is always evolving. We learn from what scares us today, and our growing familiarity with those things inevitably robs them of their power to set our collective heart pumping. As a consequence, something fresh, daring, and new is always required to go bump in the night; and it’s this dark-tinged process improvement that tasks storytellers with always seeking out something brand new to insert into our nightmares. Yes, it’s a dirty job, but there are many who’ve proven themselves both willing and able to do it, counting among them such visionaries as Alfred Hitchcock, George A. Romero, Dario Argento, Tobe Hooper, John Carpenter, Sam Raimi, Wes Craven, and many more. As a middle sibling, I ask only that you trust me when I saw that there will always be those willing to scare you silly.
Despite the fact that Horror is forever changing, there are still a good number of tropes or constructs that directors and screenwriters return to again and again and again. And why shouldn’t they? Truth be told, they work reasonably well just about every time they’re tried. Yes, they might brush off the ol’ creepy kid vibe, but they’re hoping you don’t notice he looks vaguely similar to the last creepy kid on your walk. Of course, demonic possession continues to plague people around the world, but there’s nothing stopping some new black spirit from inhabiting the soul of a girl scout, a bank teller, or your local politician. Naturally, houses are the kind of place where such spectral entities tend to gather; and – under the watchful eye of writer/director Dan Curtis (Dark Shadows, The Night Stalker, and Trilogy Of Terror) – the Dunsmuir Mansion in Oakland, California briefly experienced a resurgence of interest in ‘haunted houses’ at the box office.
Curtis and his rather celebrated cast allegedly shot Burnt Offerings over the entire month of August, 1975; and the picture was released to modest returns beginning on October 18, 1976. (Purists will tell you that it was screened previously, and that’s true, but those were either festival screenings or city-specific theatrical premieres, not a full release to the general public.) According to Wikipedia.org, Curtis adapted the novel (with some contributions by William F. Nolan) of the same name written by Robert Marasco; but a quick glance into the protracted production history suggests that Marasco himself may’ve based his novel on his own unproduced screenplay from the late 1960’s. The film starred Karen Black, Oliver Reed, Burgess Meredith, Eileen Heckart, Lee H. Montgomery, Dub Taylor, and Hollywood heavyweight Bette Davis in prominent roles.
Naturally, what matters most when discussing any Horror feature is does it frighten anyone?
Well, I’ll do my best to explain what works and what doesn’t in the space below. Regular readers can tell you that I’m generally not all that terrified by the usual haunts, and Offerings is no different. What it does well enough is it shows the magical and mystical influence a haunted house might have on those who brave such time under its roof. What it lacks is a compelling explanation for precisely how it all worked.
Who we are and what frightens us is always evolving. We learn from what scares us today, and our growing familiarity with those things inevitably robs them of their power to set our collective heart pumping. As a consequence, something fresh, daring, and new is always required to go bump in the night; and it’s this dark-tinged process improvement that tasks storytellers with always seeking out something brand new to insert into our nightmares. Yes, it’s a dirty job, but there are many who’ve proven themselves both willing and able to do it, counting among them such visionaries as Alfred Hitchcock, George A. Romero, Dario Argento, Tobe Hooper, John Carpenter, Sam Raimi, Wes Craven, and many more. As a middle sibling, I ask only that you trust me when I saw that there will always be those willing to scare you silly.
Despite the fact that Horror is forever changing, there are still a good number of tropes or constructs that directors and screenwriters return to again and again and again. And why shouldn’t they? Truth be told, they work reasonably well just about every time they’re tried. Yes, they might brush off the ol’ creepy kid vibe, but they’re hoping you don’t notice he looks vaguely similar to the last creepy kid on your walk. Of course, demonic possession continues to plague people around the world, but there’s nothing stopping some new black spirit from inhabiting the soul of a girl scout, a bank teller, or your local politician. Naturally, houses are the kind of place where such spectral entities tend to gather; and – under the watchful eye of writer/director Dan Curtis (Dark Shadows, The Night Stalker, and Trilogy Of Terror) – the Dunsmuir Mansion in Oakland, California briefly experienced a resurgence of interest in ‘haunted houses’ at the box office.
Curtis and his rather celebrated cast allegedly shot Burnt Offerings over the entire month of August, 1975; and the picture was released to modest returns beginning on October 18, 1976. (Purists will tell you that it was screened previously, and that’s true, but those were either festival screenings or city-specific theatrical premieres, not a full release to the general public.) According to Wikipedia.org, Curtis adapted the novel (with some contributions by William F. Nolan) of the same name written by Robert Marasco; but a quick glance into the protracted production history suggests that Marasco himself may’ve based his novel on his own unproduced screenplay from the late 1960’s. The film starred Karen Black, Oliver Reed, Burgess Meredith, Eileen Heckart, Lee H. Montgomery, Dub Taylor, and Hollywood heavyweight Bette Davis in prominent roles.
Naturally, what matters most when discussing any Horror feature is does it frighten anyone?
Well, I’ll do my best to explain what works and what doesn’t in the space below. Regular readers can tell you that I’m generally not all that terrified by the usual haunts, and Offerings is no different. What it does well enough is it shows the magical and mystical influence a haunted house might have on those who brave such time under its roof. What it lacks is a compelling explanation for precisely how it all worked.
(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:
“A family moves into a large old mansion in the countryside which seems to have a mysterious and sinister power over its new residents.”
I’ve read that director Curtis admitted to trimming somewhere around 15 minutes from the opening of his original cut of Burnt Offerings; and – undoubtedly – that was a good decision. The surviving 116 minutes are already slow-moving enough as it is, though I can’t help but wonder if somewhere in that cut material there might’ve been a better explanation for why Ben (played by Oliver Reed) and Marion Rolf (Karen Black) felt some time was needed away from the hustle and bustle of city life. That loss of narrative context felt like a gaping hole at times, and the premise could’ve easily been strengthened with a throwaway bit of exposition, though none really emerged.
But, yes, Ben hauls his family – the wife, his son David (Lee Montgomery), and his aunt Elizabeth (Bette Davis) – out into the countryside as an escape from their daily lives. He rents the old Allardyce homestead – an expansive three-story estate – at a fabulous discount for the summer, but it all comes with one catch: the family’s matriarch – known only as Mrs. Allardyce – must remain in the residence. Though she’ll shelter herself off privately on the third floor, Ben is asked to provide the grandam with three square meals a day, to which Marion rather happily agrees. And why not? It’s a big house. There’s plenty of space. They’ll never know the lady is even there.
Well …
Have you never heard that the even the best laid plans always go awry?
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A family moves into a large old mansion in the countryside which seems to have a mysterious and sinister power over its new residents.”
I’ve read that director Curtis admitted to trimming somewhere around 15 minutes from the opening of his original cut of Burnt Offerings; and – undoubtedly – that was a good decision. The surviving 116 minutes are already slow-moving enough as it is, though I can’t help but wonder if somewhere in that cut material there might’ve been a better explanation for why Ben (played by Oliver Reed) and Marion Rolf (Karen Black) felt some time was needed away from the hustle and bustle of city life. That loss of narrative context felt like a gaping hole at times, and the premise could’ve easily been strengthened with a throwaway bit of exposition, though none really emerged.
But, yes, Ben hauls his family – the wife, his son David (Lee Montgomery), and his aunt Elizabeth (Bette Davis) – out into the countryside as an escape from their daily lives. He rents the old Allardyce homestead – an expansive three-story estate – at a fabulous discount for the summer, but it all comes with one catch: the family’s matriarch – known only as Mrs. Allardyce – must remain in the residence. Though she’ll shelter herself off privately on the third floor, Ben is asked to provide the grandam with three square meals a day, to which Marion rather happily agrees. And why not? It’s a big house. There’s plenty of space. They’ll never know the lady is even there.
Well …
Have you never heard that the even the best laid plans always go awry?
It doesn’t take long before the spectral shenanigans are afoot. Marion begins acting as if she’s never going to leave the home, smitten with wearing period clothing she finds tucked away in hallway closets. Ben is suddenly plagued by dreams of a frightening image from his youth along with a desire to inflict bodily harm onto his young son. Aunt Elizabeth can no longer keep the peace between the feuding family, and her health is suddenly in rapid decline. Once David is nearly drowned in an uncharacteristic bit of roughhousing in the pool by dear ol’ dad, it becomes clear that the Rolf family has fallen under the influence of an entity with no shape or form but still manages to make its presence felt when everyone suspects it least.
What’s missing in all of this ghostly affair?
Well, that would be a bit of context.
The very best stories exploring haunted houses go out of their way to explain (or, at least, identify) the creature behind the madness. While it might usually be a previous resident who died under violent circumstances, screenwriters have found other ways to incorporate vengeful or even playful spirits who have found their way into such confines under curious circumstances. However, Offerings offers up no central culprit – well, unless I completely missed it – instead suggesting that the dwelling itself (apparently) has a will all of its own; and it’ll do what it wants in order to perhaps gain the life force of those trapped within it to prolong its essence.
Perhaps this was why Curtis thought it entirely unnecessary to give the Rolf family any greater definition. Because the premise reduced them to little more than unfortunate victims – as changeable as are the many portraits kept on Mrs. Allardyce’s bureau – maybe he saw no fundamental need to expound on Ben’s, Marion’s, David’s, or Elizabeth’s respective peccadillos. If they’re nothing more than a life force to be sucked out by a malevolent spirit, then what difference does it make? You and I might call that stuff ‘character building’ and maybe that’s why we show up to see how these souls fare in this particular story, and I can only assume Curtis blanched at such an idea. “How quaint.”
As I was never encouraged to care more about them as individuals, I found it increasingly difficult to appreciate what they went through except for the vicarious and/or gratuitous delight of it all. We come into Horror films expecting a degree of that – it’s definitely the genre’s foundational appeal – but in the final estimation that’s really all Offerings delivers: it’s life, and then you die. All that’s added to that adage is that if you die within the house then it claims your … energy? These ‘burnt offerings’ are little more than sacrifices required for residence in the Dunsmuir Mansion; should you trouble yourself with why they were requisite, you’re likely to come up empty … at least about as empty as these characters.
What’s missing in all of this ghostly affair?
Well, that would be a bit of context.
The very best stories exploring haunted houses go out of their way to explain (or, at least, identify) the creature behind the madness. While it might usually be a previous resident who died under violent circumstances, screenwriters have found other ways to incorporate vengeful or even playful spirits who have found their way into such confines under curious circumstances. However, Offerings offers up no central culprit – well, unless I completely missed it – instead suggesting that the dwelling itself (apparently) has a will all of its own; and it’ll do what it wants in order to perhaps gain the life force of those trapped within it to prolong its essence.
Perhaps this was why Curtis thought it entirely unnecessary to give the Rolf family any greater definition. Because the premise reduced them to little more than unfortunate victims – as changeable as are the many portraits kept on Mrs. Allardyce’s bureau – maybe he saw no fundamental need to expound on Ben’s, Marion’s, David’s, or Elizabeth’s respective peccadillos. If they’re nothing more than a life force to be sucked out by a malevolent spirit, then what difference does it make? You and I might call that stuff ‘character building’ and maybe that’s why we show up to see how these souls fare in this particular story, and I can only assume Curtis blanched at such an idea. “How quaint.”
As I was never encouraged to care more about them as individuals, I found it increasingly difficult to appreciate what they went through except for the vicarious and/or gratuitous delight of it all. We come into Horror films expecting a degree of that – it’s definitely the genre’s foundational appeal – but in the final estimation that’s really all Offerings delivers: it’s life, and then you die. All that’s added to that adage is that if you die within the house then it claims your … energy? These ‘burnt offerings’ are little more than sacrifices required for residence in the Dunsmuir Mansion; should you trouble yourself with why they were requisite, you’re likely to come up empty … at least about as empty as these characters.
Despite all of these rather obvious shortcomings, Offerings still managed to garner some incredible attention during its life in theaters and beyond.
I’ve read that it’s somehow of favorite of some major Horror authors, and I see from the listing on IMDB.com that the motion picture took home an incredible three Saturn Awards (‘Best Director,’ ‘Best Supporting Actress,’ and ‘Best Horror Film’) from its 1977 ceremony. (It also fared equally well at the 1977 Sitges-Catalonian International Film Festival.) In 2016, an all-new home video release was nominated for its fourth Saturn Award in the category of ‘Best DVD/Blu-ray Classic Film Release.’ That’s all well and good, I suppose, but I’d be hard pressed to explain just how it warranted so much praise … well, except for the fact that Curtis was smart to chock his slim cast full of recognized talent. Oliver Reed has had some highs and lows, but actress Black was only hitting her young stride with critical acclaim. Davis was a Hollywood force to be reckoned with, and the great Burgess Meredith, Eileen Heckart, and Western favorite Dub Taylor were also Tinseltown royalty. Certainly, this many talented industry players wouldn’t work in a routine and forgettable Horror feature now, would they?
You be the judge.
Burnt Offerings (1976) was produced by Produzioni Europee Associate (PEA) and Dan Curtis Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this Blu-ray to be of pretty exceptional quality consistently throughout. (There’s a sequence at night that appeared a bit grainier that usual, but it’s still fine.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts interviews with screenwriter Nolan and actor Anthony James and Lee Montgomery along with two separate audio commentaries. A theatrical trailer rounds out the impressive bunch of extras. Well done, Kino Lorber.
Mildly recommended.
Though I’m usually a fan of haunted houses, I found Burnt Offerings (1976) a bit of a throwback to times when these films weren’t all that well designed. There’s no current that propels these characters on this particular thrill ride, and the lack of context to all of this spiritual ballyhoo causes it to deflate when just a wee bit more could’ve inflated it to some wondrous proportions. God knows, it had a talented cast – along with a truly winning location – but as is? Why, I’ve seen episodes of Scooby Doo make more sense in the last reel than this one did.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Burnt Offerings (1976) 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
I’ve read that it’s somehow of favorite of some major Horror authors, and I see from the listing on IMDB.com that the motion picture took home an incredible three Saturn Awards (‘Best Director,’ ‘Best Supporting Actress,’ and ‘Best Horror Film’) from its 1977 ceremony. (It also fared equally well at the 1977 Sitges-Catalonian International Film Festival.) In 2016, an all-new home video release was nominated for its fourth Saturn Award in the category of ‘Best DVD/Blu-ray Classic Film Release.’ That’s all well and good, I suppose, but I’d be hard pressed to explain just how it warranted so much praise … well, except for the fact that Curtis was smart to chock his slim cast full of recognized talent. Oliver Reed has had some highs and lows, but actress Black was only hitting her young stride with critical acclaim. Davis was a Hollywood force to be reckoned with, and the great Burgess Meredith, Eileen Heckart, and Western favorite Dub Taylor were also Tinseltown royalty. Certainly, this many talented industry players wouldn’t work in a routine and forgettable Horror feature now, would they?
You be the judge.
Burnt Offerings (1976) was produced by Produzioni Europee Associate (PEA) and Dan Curtis Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this Blu-ray to be of pretty exceptional quality consistently throughout. (There’s a sequence at night that appeared a bit grainier that usual, but it’s still fine.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts interviews with screenwriter Nolan and actor Anthony James and Lee Montgomery along with two separate audio commentaries. A theatrical trailer rounds out the impressive bunch of extras. Well done, Kino Lorber.
Mildly recommended.
Though I’m usually a fan of haunted houses, I found Burnt Offerings (1976) a bit of a throwback to times when these films weren’t all that well designed. There’s no current that propels these characters on this particular thrill ride, and the lack of context to all of this spiritual ballyhoo causes it to deflate when just a wee bit more could’ve inflated it to some wondrous proportions. God knows, it had a talented cast – along with a truly winning location – but as is? Why, I’ve seen episodes of Scooby Doo make more sense in the last reel than this one did.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Burnt Offerings (1976) 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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