I haven’t always enjoyed both watching and reviewing Horror projects as I do these days.
In fact, I’m quite certain that I’ve mentioned in this space that Horror – as a genre – just doesn’t much scare me. Far too many storytellers have invested far too much of their visions with effects trickery and/or buckets of blood when, inevitably, I’m scared more by what they only hint at and don’t directly show than are most. Oh, sure, I can appreciate the visceral quality of some evil deeds brought to life theatrically the way so many good flicks do; but my point is that more can be accomplished with a good story, great atmosphere, and solid players than most are willing to explore … so I tend to still shy away from stuff that looks a bit too greasy or underlit because those gimmicks just don’t tickle my fancy … nor do they turn my stomach.
Now, a working foundation will always capture my interest, and I think that’s initially the best thing I can say about Deathdream (1974). Originally released under the title of Dead Of Night, the flick was an early cinematic yarn that used the backdrop of the Vietnam War (albeit loosely) to explore what’s basically a ghost story: a soldier dying – Andy – in a frenzied skirmish on the front lines hears the voice of his mother calling out to him, and – voila! – he’s somehow transported back home (or is he?) looking mostly like he did the day he left. But Andy’s come back with something else – an insatiable appetite for blood – and it’s that little something extra that does give a good deal of the film the backbone needed to built, at least, a cult following. It looks like it did; and this is why Blue Underground sought to resurrect their cut with a fiftieth anniversary release for home video.
Did they need to?
Well, that’s always an argument weighed by critics, and if Rotten Tomatoes and IMDB.com are any indication then it would seem that there’s a clamoring for more of this, though I’ve not come across anyone even remotely familiar with the title. (Again, I’ll chalk that up to the fact that I haven’t always dabbled in Horrific circles!) Having now watched it completely, I’m still a bit aghast at its high marks, considering it good but not all that great. I don’t always agree, and yet I’m perfectly comfortable sharing with you (below) what I think might make this Deathdream worth your attention.
(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 young soldier killed in the Vietnam War inexplicably shows up at his family home on the night of his death.”
In fact, I’m quite certain that I’ve mentioned in this space that Horror – as a genre – just doesn’t much scare me. Far too many storytellers have invested far too much of their visions with effects trickery and/or buckets of blood when, inevitably, I’m scared more by what they only hint at and don’t directly show than are most. Oh, sure, I can appreciate the visceral quality of some evil deeds brought to life theatrically the way so many good flicks do; but my point is that more can be accomplished with a good story, great atmosphere, and solid players than most are willing to explore … so I tend to still shy away from stuff that looks a bit too greasy or underlit because those gimmicks just don’t tickle my fancy … nor do they turn my stomach.
Now, a working foundation will always capture my interest, and I think that’s initially the best thing I can say about Deathdream (1974). Originally released under the title of Dead Of Night, the flick was an early cinematic yarn that used the backdrop of the Vietnam War (albeit loosely) to explore what’s basically a ghost story: a soldier dying – Andy – in a frenzied skirmish on the front lines hears the voice of his mother calling out to him, and – voila! – he’s somehow transported back home (or is he?) looking mostly like he did the day he left. But Andy’s come back with something else – an insatiable appetite for blood – and it’s that little something extra that does give a good deal of the film the backbone needed to built, at least, a cult following. It looks like it did; and this is why Blue Underground sought to resurrect their cut with a fiftieth anniversary release for home video.
Did they need to?
Well, that’s always an argument weighed by critics, and if Rotten Tomatoes and IMDB.com are any indication then it would seem that there’s a clamoring for more of this, though I’ve not come across anyone even remotely familiar with the title. (Again, I’ll chalk that up to the fact that I haven’t always dabbled in Horrific circles!) Having now watched it completely, I’m still a bit aghast at its high marks, considering it good but not all that great. I don’t always agree, and yet I’m perfectly comfortable sharing with you (below) what I think might make this Deathdream worth your attention.
(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 young soldier killed in the Vietnam War inexplicably shows up at his family home on the night of his death.”
Alas, I’m still not entirely certain that I believe in ghosts. Though I don’t discount the possibility, I – like many of you – tend to go with either my gut or what I can see. Given that I’ve not seen any, this lack of experience leads my gut to question what the afterlife could all be about and just why anyone who has passed on would necessarily want to come back to the messiness that is life itself. I guess I just don’t understand the appeal.
However, I do appreciate the breadth of stories that presuppose how our thoughts, fears, wishes, and desires might stir up the potential for spectral interactions; and I think that’s part and parcel of what makes Deathdream as interesting a diversion as it is. Life and death affects us all; and the film postulates just how one mother’s strong emotional connection to her son has conjured up a little something unearthly, whether she intended it or not.
Andy Brooks (played by Richard Backus) is serving his country on the front lines of the Vietnam War. One night, he and his platoon find themselves caught in a firefight; and they’re struck down in the resulting crossfire. It just so happens that back home at his family digs, his father Charles (John Marley), his mother Christine (Lynn Carlin), and his sister Cathy (Anya Ormsby) are sitting around the supper table, dreaming about the day the young man will finally be home. To their dismay, a military officer appears at their door with a telegram, informing them that Andy was killed in action. Torn apart with grief, Christine goes to bed chanting a prayer for her son’s return, beckoning him to come back from the beyond.
In the middle of the night, a noise startles Charles awake. He heads downstairs with his wife and daughter close behind … only to find that Andy has returned … and he appears to be in perfect health!
So it should go without saying that a discerning viewer must accept the premise fairly early on in Deathdream that prayer works; otherwise this house of cards couldn’t keep itself standing. Given the state of the federal government, it isn’t hard to imagine that perhaps a mistake was somehow made – that Andy wasn’t there and shot in combat – and I also suspect this may’ve resulted in the film’s popularity back in the day. After all, Uncle Sam got us into a bad war to begin with; is it really that hard to contemplate that they might’ve made a huge mistake in cataloguing the dead? The fact that no one suggests contacting the Army asking for an explanation – a bit of a miss, if you ask me – so don’t look for the rest of this dark tale to unfold with any degree of narrative realism.
Still, there’s a bit more than takes place regarding Andy’s kinda/sorta bizarre behaviors, and none of it gets questioned. Why is he so desperately quiet? Why is he so socially withdrawn? Why does he wish to have nothing to do with any of his loved ones, and why does he insist on just wiling away the time in the rocking chair of his bedroom? Why is he so pale? Why does he wish to ignore his former circumstances? Why doesn’t he want to talk about the ride home? And why did he just choke the family’s beloved dog to death?
(Without a doubt, the film’s centerpiece is the dog scene. It’s handled with a particular degree of gruesomeness – not bloody, just shockingly staged with an almost documentarian’s approach – but I can’t fathom why no one tried to save the poor pooch!)
However, I do appreciate the breadth of stories that presuppose how our thoughts, fears, wishes, and desires might stir up the potential for spectral interactions; and I think that’s part and parcel of what makes Deathdream as interesting a diversion as it is. Life and death affects us all; and the film postulates just how one mother’s strong emotional connection to her son has conjured up a little something unearthly, whether she intended it or not.
Andy Brooks (played by Richard Backus) is serving his country on the front lines of the Vietnam War. One night, he and his platoon find themselves caught in a firefight; and they’re struck down in the resulting crossfire. It just so happens that back home at his family digs, his father Charles (John Marley), his mother Christine (Lynn Carlin), and his sister Cathy (Anya Ormsby) are sitting around the supper table, dreaming about the day the young man will finally be home. To their dismay, a military officer appears at their door with a telegram, informing them that Andy was killed in action. Torn apart with grief, Christine goes to bed chanting a prayer for her son’s return, beckoning him to come back from the beyond.
In the middle of the night, a noise startles Charles awake. He heads downstairs with his wife and daughter close behind … only to find that Andy has returned … and he appears to be in perfect health!
So it should go without saying that a discerning viewer must accept the premise fairly early on in Deathdream that prayer works; otherwise this house of cards couldn’t keep itself standing. Given the state of the federal government, it isn’t hard to imagine that perhaps a mistake was somehow made – that Andy wasn’t there and shot in combat – and I also suspect this may’ve resulted in the film’s popularity back in the day. After all, Uncle Sam got us into a bad war to begin with; is it really that hard to contemplate that they might’ve made a huge mistake in cataloguing the dead? The fact that no one suggests contacting the Army asking for an explanation – a bit of a miss, if you ask me – so don’t look for the rest of this dark tale to unfold with any degree of narrative realism.
Still, there’s a bit more than takes place regarding Andy’s kinda/sorta bizarre behaviors, and none of it gets questioned. Why is he so desperately quiet? Why is he so socially withdrawn? Why does he wish to have nothing to do with any of his loved ones, and why does he insist on just wiling away the time in the rocking chair of his bedroom? Why is he so pale? Why does he wish to ignore his former circumstances? Why doesn’t he want to talk about the ride home? And why did he just choke the family’s beloved dog to death?
(Without a doubt, the film’s centerpiece is the dog scene. It’s handled with a particular degree of gruesomeness – not bloody, just shockingly staged with an almost documentarian’s approach – but I can’t fathom why no one tried to save the poor pooch!)
The film is directed by Bob Clark, a storyteller who has one of the more interesting catalogues of many from his era. I know him best from his efforts to bring the Holiday/Classic A Christmas Story (1983) to the screen; and – like many of you – it’s a picture I’m sure I’ve seen annually ever since. But he also helmed both Porky’s (1981) and its somewhat dark sequel Porky’s II: The Next Day (1983) around the same time that A Christmas Story was also on his plate. 1987’s From The Hip is also another particular effective film – a courtroom comedy that seems to have been mostly forgotten, which I find sad as it houses some great performances from Judd Nelson, Elizabeth Perkins, and John Hurt – that’s about as different thematically from those as they are from one another. I never would’ve imagined that Deathdream would be one of the man’s earliest projects, but … well … there it is.
Similarly, Alan Ormsby – its screenwriter – also possesses a resume with a diverse library of stories. His name’s attached to the Cult/Horror Cat People (1982) around the same time that he was crafting Porky’s II into shootable format; and 1980’s underrated My Bodyguard was a sleeper hit that explored bullying at a time when it wasn’t part of the Hollywood ideological agenda. In 1987, he helped the Mouse House launch a lesser SciFi franchise with his script for the first Not Quite Human starring Jay Underwood and Alan Thicke. The 1990’s saw the Ormsby exploring the dark side of education as he spearheaded The Substitute franchise for the big screen wherein a grizzled soldier took the unwelcome task of shaping the young high school minds of tomorrow.
My point in discussing the breadth of these projects is to underscore that, together, Clark and Ormsby know their way around more than several blocks. Each has explored some dark and light highs and lows of the human condition; but there isn’t a great deal in either of their backgrounds that point to something as occasionally feral as is Deathdream. (Yes, I’m aware of Clark’s Black Christmas.) Together, these two manage to muster up some wonderfully dark atmosphere, and it honestly happens with what seems to be very little effort. I guess it’s mostly my surprise here that these two paired up to give audiences a look at elements decidedly supernatural, especially given the kinda/sorta formulaic finale this film delivers. I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say graveyards have been overused in filmdom since their inception.
The downside to all of this is neither man really felt it necessary to tell us exactly what Andy is and/or was. What they do with him is all that matters … and … what can I say? I like to know a bit more about things that go bump in the night. He’s part zombie. He’s part vampire. He’s part corpse. But we never get the full scoop, and that’s a miss.
Erm … pardon me, readers, if I breach a sensitive topic, but I’ve read a fair bit of commentary online about how Deathdream is one of the earliest Horror flicks to kinda/sorta breach the topic of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) right within the main narrative.
Now – again, I mean no disrespect to anyone – I don’t want to mince words here, folks, but I’ve got to be intellectually honest. Yes, on one level, I suspect that those who’ve made such an observation were trying to do so out of respect for the tale as it’s told. However, my issue with it is that this isn’t the real Andy – as best as I or anyone should be able to surmise – he’s a conjured-up tempestuous spirit – a kinda/sorta golem with loose vampiric appetites – and perhaps such arguments place far too too much weight on his manufactured psyche (and psychosis) as we’ve absolutely no indication that he served his country in any demonstrable capacity. In fact, I see Andy as little more than the figment of his mother’s imagination – it was her prayer that called him into being in the first place – and, as such, there’s very little evidence that he has any of her fallen son’s authentic memories.
Critics, scholars, and (ahem!) film nerds do like to fashion such dissertations about how art reflects reality; and – on that front (and probably that front alone) – I certainly understand where such intelligentsia may’ve devised such a theory. But this is Horror and theatrical Fantasy, and I would no more expect the product of a grieving mother’s pain to know all that was knowable about her deceased child. He’s a spectral thing brought forward from the darkness at her behest; while the ties to, perhaps, family and friends – which she would’ve known – stand to good reason. Anything else? Well … methinks we’re kicking a corpse, if you know what I mean.
Similarly, Alan Ormsby – its screenwriter – also possesses a resume with a diverse library of stories. His name’s attached to the Cult/Horror Cat People (1982) around the same time that he was crafting Porky’s II into shootable format; and 1980’s underrated My Bodyguard was a sleeper hit that explored bullying at a time when it wasn’t part of the Hollywood ideological agenda. In 1987, he helped the Mouse House launch a lesser SciFi franchise with his script for the first Not Quite Human starring Jay Underwood and Alan Thicke. The 1990’s saw the Ormsby exploring the dark side of education as he spearheaded The Substitute franchise for the big screen wherein a grizzled soldier took the unwelcome task of shaping the young high school minds of tomorrow.
My point in discussing the breadth of these projects is to underscore that, together, Clark and Ormsby know their way around more than several blocks. Each has explored some dark and light highs and lows of the human condition; but there isn’t a great deal in either of their backgrounds that point to something as occasionally feral as is Deathdream. (Yes, I’m aware of Clark’s Black Christmas.) Together, these two manage to muster up some wonderfully dark atmosphere, and it honestly happens with what seems to be very little effort. I guess it’s mostly my surprise here that these two paired up to give audiences a look at elements decidedly supernatural, especially given the kinda/sorta formulaic finale this film delivers. I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say graveyards have been overused in filmdom since their inception.
The downside to all of this is neither man really felt it necessary to tell us exactly what Andy is and/or was. What they do with him is all that matters … and … what can I say? I like to know a bit more about things that go bump in the night. He’s part zombie. He’s part vampire. He’s part corpse. But we never get the full scoop, and that’s a miss.
Erm … pardon me, readers, if I breach a sensitive topic, but I’ve read a fair bit of commentary online about how Deathdream is one of the earliest Horror flicks to kinda/sorta breach the topic of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) right within the main narrative.
Now – again, I mean no disrespect to anyone – I don’t want to mince words here, folks, but I’ve got to be intellectually honest. Yes, on one level, I suspect that those who’ve made such an observation were trying to do so out of respect for the tale as it’s told. However, my issue with it is that this isn’t the real Andy – as best as I or anyone should be able to surmise – he’s a conjured-up tempestuous spirit – a kinda/sorta golem with loose vampiric appetites – and perhaps such arguments place far too too much weight on his manufactured psyche (and psychosis) as we’ve absolutely no indication that he served his country in any demonstrable capacity. In fact, I see Andy as little more than the figment of his mother’s imagination – it was her prayer that called him into being in the first place – and, as such, there’s very little evidence that he has any of her fallen son’s authentic memories.
Critics, scholars, and (ahem!) film nerds do like to fashion such dissertations about how art reflects reality; and – on that front (and probably that front alone) – I certainly understand where such intelligentsia may’ve devised such a theory. But this is Horror and theatrical Fantasy, and I would no more expect the product of a grieving mother’s pain to know all that was knowable about her deceased child. He’s a spectral thing brought forward from the darkness at her behest; while the ties to, perhaps, family and friends – which she would’ve known – stand to good reason. Anything else? Well … methinks we’re kicking a corpse, if you know what I mean.
Deathdream (aka Dead Of Night) (1974) was produced by Dead Walk Company, Impact Films, and Quadrant Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Blue Underground. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this Ultra 4K HD presentation to be surprisingly good: there are a fair amount of nighttime sequences that could’ve been a bit more defined, and I suspect the quality is likely owed to sourcing issues. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Blue Underground doesn’t disappoint; and – in order to do it justice – I’m doing the ol’ copy-and-paste from their press release recently printed on Blu-ray.com:
DISC ONE - 4KBLU-RAY
Recommended.
Once again, your faithful editor finds himself a bit at odds with the majority of the marketplace. Whereas quite a few smilers absolutely love Deathdream (1974), I give you my word that I only like it … I like it for what it is, I like it for what it tried to do, and I like it for what it ultimately achieves. It’s one of those imperfect little gems that still means something to so many that fifty years later it’s still being celebrated with a 50th anniversary release. While even I will concede that means something, I’ll also argue that I’ve seen a smattering of these ideas put to better use elsewhere. Performances are good enough, and a few shocking scenes make it a palatable ride for true fans of Horror.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a Ultra 4K HD + Blu-ray of Deathdream (aka Dead Of Night) (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
DISC ONE - 4KBLU-RAY
- EXCLUSIVE NEW 4K 16-BIT RESTORATION FROM THE ORIGINAL CAMERA NEGATIVE
- DOLBY VISION/HDR PRESENTATION OF THE FILM
- NEW Audio Commentary #3 with Film Historians Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson
- Audio Commentary #1 with Co-Producer/Director Bob Clark
- Audio Commentary #2 with Writer/Make-Up Artist (Uncredited) Alan Ormsby
- Theatrical Trailer
- Audio: English (1.0 DTS-HD MA)
- Subtitles: English SDH, French, Spanish
- EXCLUSIVE NEW 4K 16-BIT RESTORATION FROM THE ORIGINAL CAMERA NEGATIVE
- NEW The First Andy – Interview with Actor Gary Swanson
- NEW Audio Commentary #3 with Film Historians Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson
- Audio Commentary #1 with Co-Producer/Director Bob Clark
- Audio Commentary #2 with Writer/Make-Up Artist (Uncredited) Alan Ormsby
- A Recollection With Star Anya Liffey and Writer/Make-Up Artist Alan Ormsby
- Notes For A Homecoming – Interview with Composer Carl Zittrer
- Flying Down To Brooksville – Interview with Production Manager John 'Bud' Cardos
- Tom Savini: The Early Years
- Deathdreaming – Interview with Star Richard Backus
- Screen Test with Original Andy, Gary Swanson
- Alan Ormsby Student Film
- Alternate Opening Titles
- Theatrical Trailer
- Still Galleries
- Audio: English (1.0 DTS-HD MA)
- Subtitles: English SDH, French, Spanish
- REGION-FREE
- Limited Edition embossed slipcover and reversible sleeve with alternate artwork (First Pressing Only!)
Recommended.
Once again, your faithful editor finds himself a bit at odds with the majority of the marketplace. Whereas quite a few smilers absolutely love Deathdream (1974), I give you my word that I only like it … I like it for what it is, I like it for what it tried to do, and I like it for what it ultimately achieves. It’s one of those imperfect little gems that still means something to so many that fifty years later it’s still being celebrated with a 50th anniversary release. While even I will concede that means something, I’ll also argue that I’ve seen a smattering of these ideas put to better use elsewhere. Performances are good enough, and a few shocking scenes make it a palatable ride for true fans of Horror.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a Ultra 4K HD + Blu-ray of Deathdream (aka Dead Of Night) (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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