The young people of today may not realize just how scary the word Satanist used to be here in the United States. You see, being a Puritanical society most people had a fear of God. But if there was one thing that could scare them even more then God it was Satan. And thanks to Hollywood hits like The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby those fears were suddenly rationalized in celluloid.
Yes those kindly old neighbors are trying to stealthily allow Satan to rape you in your sleep. And yes, the reason your daughter has started cursing and crab walking everywhere is because she is possessed by a demon. And yes, that scary blind man constantly sitting in that chair in the attic is guarding the gateway to Hell.
But Hollywood movies were not the only obvious indicators of Satan’s growing hold of the American youth in the nation’s Heartland. Dungeons & Dragons was gripping youth culture. Legions of kids getting together to discuss witchcraft, magic and Funyuns. God help them! Of course we all know how D&D can poison our youth thanks to the Tom Hanks film Mazes and Monsters which proved D&D will cause people to loose all touch with reality and live out their lives trapped in a role playing game.
Then of course we have the Satanic cults. Growing up in the Midwest I heard all sorts of stories and legends about cults roaming the countryside. One particular warning was how you should never go near roadkill, because that is how cult members dispose of their animal sacrifices and who knows what you could catch from such evil proceedings.
Waukesha, WI (where I grew up) was so terrified of cults and random pins and needles in Snickers bars that they came up with a very irrational and uncool way to celebrate Halloween, they didn’t. Well, I might be slightly embellishing. You see they did celebrate Halloween, only not on the actual day. Rather, they picked a weekend day somewhere in the vicinity of Halloween (I’m quite certain one year it fell during the first week of November) and designated several hours (typically it was 2-4pm so as to not risk being caught outside in their costumes under cover of anything less the full sunlight) where kids were allowed to Trick or Treat with parental supervision. As you might be able to surmise, this entire overreaction really sucked any and all enjoyment out of Halloween.
So while the fear of Satanic cults have certainly tapered off as the general public has come to realize the threat was overblown, and thus transferred that fear to the oncoming rush of teal and other “gang” related colors flooding into our schools. But thankfully, the 1970′s was a time when Satanic films thrived and studios, desperate to hop on the bandwagon, churned out multiple cocaine fueled scripts that were populated with truly bizarre star studded casts. A prime example of this is The Devil’s Rain, a film clearly written, shot and edited over what must have been an epic acid flashback.
The Devil’s Rain focuses on the Preston family, who for the past few hundred years have been on the run from a man named John Corbis (Ernest Borgnine), a Satanic priest whom the Preston’s betrayed and stole a Satanic book that Corbis channels much of his power from. But Corbis has finally cornered the family, and he plans to bring them into his fold one by one, by any means necessary.
One of the aspects of The Devil’s Rain that had me quite excited was that it was directed by Robert Fuest, a director best known for his work on the fantastic dark comedies/horror films The Abominable Dr. Phibes and Dr. Phibes Rides Again, and had a pretty strong cult following up until he helmed The Devil’s Rain, a film which was so harshly panned that it effectively destroyed his career. So as I watched the film I was constantly looking for signs that would show it was so awful that a career would be killed over it. What I found surprised even myself.
To be fair The Devil’s Rain has a whole mess of problems, primarily with a weak and unintelligible script as well as it being a horror film that isn’t scary in the slightest and barely grazes creepy, and a truly bizarre cast, but it does have some redeeming qualities as well.
The first moment of worth is during a fantastic foot chase that occurs early on in the film. Using a long single take tracking shot, the chase sequence is one of the few generally frantic moments in the film and it is highly effective at raising viewer interest. The sequence is a fantastic showcase of Fuest’s directorial abilities and really helps reiterate what a shame it is that he wasn’t given a chance to direct more movies.
The foot chase also ties in directly to the other reason to watch The Devil’s Rain, and that is it is quite obvious that numerous directors, specifically George Miller, Russell Mulcahy and Joe Dante, have clearly been influenced by this film. The foot chase sequence could have come straight out of any one of Miller’s or Mulcahy’s films, while The Devil’s Rain “shocking” ending was outright pilfered by Dante for use in Gremlins.
I suppose that isn’t a very strong list of reasons to watch this movie, though those are the few good aspects of the film. The real fun is watching the truly gonzo cast (Borgnine, William Shatner, Tom Skerritt, Ida Lupino, Eddie Albert, Keenan Wynn, John Travolta and Anton LaVey) treat the preposterous story as legitimate fare. Shatner’s standard over acting actually shines with such a ridiculous yet fitting role. Shatner has the best moment in the film when during a fit of crying he goes all Robert Downey Jr and begins drooling all over himself with despair. And his patented delivery turns throwaway lines like “Corbis … God … damn you!” into pure cornball gold.
Not to be outdone Skerritt, clearly looking strung out from who knows how many over indulgences the night before, practically sleep walks through his role, and the giant bags under his eyes don’t help hide matters. Yet even Skerritt finds ways to snap out of his stupor during a horrible fist fight sequence on a stair well, or when he discovers his mother (played by Ida Lupino who is clearly slumming) has become one of Corbis’ disciples. As lethargic performances go, Skerritt’s is nigh impressive.
But while the film has numerous problems, it rarely devolves into anything even remotely terrible, rather somehow finding a way to balance between delightfully confusing and frustratingly simplistic. Plot lines are dismissed or resumed midway through with no explanation, characters are introduced simply to piece together the razor thin plot then dropped at the earliest possible inconvenience and the twist ending almost seems as if it was added on a dare. But even throughout this turgid mess I couldn’t help but find myself enjoying the film. As guilty pleasures go, The Devil’s Rain is positively sinful.
