RITUAL OF EVIL (1970)
My teeth are still sensitive from a dentist appointment, so forgive me if I'm in a crabby mood. Ordinarily, I'd be slacking off right now, but these reviews don't write themselves, now do they? Imagine if Dr. Sorell called in sick. I wouldn't have a soapy sequel to discuss. You see, Dr. Sorell - psychiatrist to the stars - is entreated to investigate the dubious circumstances surrounding the suicide of Aline Wiley, a voguish, yet troubled actress. Louis Jourdan returns from the prior year's Fear No Evil (gratuitous hyperlink alert) to play Dr. Sorell with a cool, possibly aloof hand. He spans the entire running time sitting comfortably in rococo furniture (because the 60's refused to go without a fight) and interviewing characters of interest. How much interest? Well, that's for me to judge.
The script is heavy on histrionic dialogue. I wasn't kidding about this being a soapy affair. Everything from the cramped interiors to the unctuous (yes, unctuous) love subplots reeks of daytime. When Ritual clears its head and decides that it wants to be spooky, it becomes significantly more engaging. I do have a thing for Satanic cults in the cinema. This particular teleplay may be defanged in terms of gore, but it's a necessary compromise if you want real atmosphere on network television. Apparently, this almost became a series. We got Night Gallery instead. I can live with that. If you're into tangible horrors, both Fear and Ritual can be found on Blu-ray. Or you can stream it somewhere, you lazy pillock.
No comments:
Post a Comment