When I was a kid growing up in New York City in the late 1950s and 60s, there was on TV something called "Million Dollar Movie." I can't remember what channel, even though there weren't very many back then. I know it was one of the locals, probably Channel 11 or Channel 9. It broadcast old movies. "Old," of course, meant movies from the 30s 40s and 50s. I watched them endlessly. I became what I am to this day, attached to those classic films. Of all Million Dollar Movie's movies, this one, "The Crawling Eye," has forever stuck in my head. It was - no kidding - a life-changing experience. To begin with, it scared the bejesus out of me. Even the title was unnerving. It was not clear how an eye could crawl. But, however it did, it could not be agreeable. It terrified me. And then it entranced me. It became the first horror movie I ever watched, all the way through, without closing my own eyes or ducking out the door at the scary moments and especially at the scary, scary moment I knew would come at the end. I could only do it because Million Dollar Movie had this peculiarity. The same movie played for an entire week - every day the same film. Slowly, slowly I watched, until one day I watched to the end. Whenever I got too scared I turned it off. Next day I went further. Finally, I made it. On that day I became a man (though my bar mitzvah was far in the future). I owe "The Crawling Eye," inflatable rubber squids and human actors, all, an undying debt of gratitude.
It did absolutely scare me silly. It's still scary today, because it relies on suspense. The scariest things are things unseen, not the bump in the night but the imagining of that bump. Something creeps in the blackness. Stare at the blackness. It lurks off-screen. Stare at the screen. Nothing is as terrifying as that which resides in the imagination. I kept my eyes open finally. Finally, the monsters appeared. Giant extraterrestrial octopuses! No way those things could hide under my bed. It was an epiphany. I have slept well ever since. But until that disappointing denouement, the terror had me riveted. What was it? What sneaked up on unsuspecting mountaineers and removed their heads? For almost an hour we never see it. The heads keep vanishing. Victims themselves never see death coming. But they hear it coming, strange noises, something moving in the night. And they tell us, they tell the camera. Something is coming, in the fog, in the mist. Now, I didn't live in a lonely country house where the wind rattles in the eves or whatever. Even in a NY tenement, with cars going by in the street, strange noises arise. Well, I won't go on. You get the idea.
So many marvelous touches... There's the creepy element of second sight. What does it mean? The snow globe scene: the little plastic cabin becomes the real hut on the mountain; Janet Munro's face, frantic, staring; phone call to the trapped climbers; watch out, Dewhurst; too late; something's coming! That was undoubtedly one point at which I switched off the TV. There's the creepy element of the walking dead, first Brent, then Hans. (Zombies were one of my particular phobias at the time.) It all works so well it's scaring me now. Later, creepiness still in my memory, I recognized the same actors - but they weren't scared, they were laughing. There she was, Janet Munro, cavorting with leprechauns and Sean Connery in "Darby O'Gill and the Little People." There he was, Forrest Tucker, slapsticking with Larry Storch and Ken Berry in "F Troop." Years passed. My little daughter got terribly upset when Shirley Temple (on VHS) suffered some mistreatment or injustice at the hands of Mary Nash. I was able to draw on the wisdom I had gained. It's OK, Anna, don't cry. The actors will break for lunch, and they'll be back in a comedy. Thank you, "Crawling Eye."
It did absolutely scare me silly. It's still scary today, because it relies on suspense. The scariest things are things unseen, not the bump in the night but the imagining of that bump. Something creeps in the blackness. Stare at the blackness. It lurks off-screen. Stare at the screen. Nothing is as terrifying as that which resides in the imagination. I kept my eyes open finally. Finally, the monsters appeared. Giant extraterrestrial octopuses! No way those things could hide under my bed. It was an epiphany. I have slept well ever since. But until that disappointing denouement, the terror had me riveted. What was it? What sneaked up on unsuspecting mountaineers and removed their heads? For almost an hour we never see it. The heads keep vanishing. Victims themselves never see death coming. But they hear it coming, strange noises, something moving in the night. And they tell us, they tell the camera. Something is coming, in the fog, in the mist. Now, I didn't live in a lonely country house where the wind rattles in the eves or whatever. Even in a NY tenement, with cars going by in the street, strange noises arise. Well, I won't go on. You get the idea.
So many marvelous touches... There's the creepy element of second sight. What does it mean? The snow globe scene: the little plastic cabin becomes the real hut on the mountain; Janet Munro's face, frantic, staring; phone call to the trapped climbers; watch out, Dewhurst; too late; something's coming! That was undoubtedly one point at which I switched off the TV. There's the creepy element of the walking dead, first Brent, then Hans. (Zombies were one of my particular phobias at the time.) It all works so well it's scaring me now. Later, creepiness still in my memory, I recognized the same actors - but they weren't scared, they were laughing. There she was, Janet Munro, cavorting with leprechauns and Sean Connery in "Darby O'Gill and the Little People." There he was, Forrest Tucker, slapsticking with Larry Storch and Ken Berry in "F Troop." Years passed. My little daughter got terribly upset when Shirley Temple (on VHS) suffered some mistreatment or injustice at the hands of Mary Nash. I was able to draw on the wisdom I had gained. It's OK, Anna, don't cry. The actors will break for lunch, and they'll be back in a comedy. Thank you, "Crawling Eye."