Review of The Watcher in the Woods (1980) by Ian H — 01 Feb 2012

I first saw this flick in Grade 4 in the classroom, probably the only 'horror' film our teacher could screen for us without getting fired or having several concerned parents calling foul. Critics slaughtered this film upon its release and re-release a year later with an alternate ending, and to be fair, it is hokey.

How scary can you possibly build such a film up to suit the younger set? Still, some elements rate it slightly above the generic. The presence of Bette Davis is enough to elevate any mundane picture, even if this was the latter part of her career with her accustomed to cheap suspense pictures with her decked out in morbid fright wigs.

The story is anything but boring. I decry many of the film's critics who call this slow-paced; how fast can events transpire in the backwoods of Britain? The art direction and production values, namely through the efforts of Alan Hume, are well-crafted, setting a foreboding mood which is all important in this genre.

Some of the acting is overdone. Many times Lynn-Holly Johnson yells at her scenemates unnecessarily, seemingly not realizing they are already haunted and have been for years. The ritual that sets up the plot which went horribly wrong long ago in the pasts of key characters is left rather non-descript, without motive and too quirky for its own good (no wonder Disney asked the screenwriters to downplay the occult elements; it shows all too well).

For once, I was looking for more ruggedness to a horror flick, as if the 'children's' banner was getting in the way of revealing other plot elements that could enhance the story. This is the freaky adaptation that could have added meaning to Disney's Haunted Mansion ride instead of the Eddie Murphy vehicle that later trivialized it.

Here is a ghost story with such potential to scare, but feels overly censored and not wholly suited for the audience it intended to reach. It seemed to work for me as a 9-year old; now the enthrallment I once felt seems like my generation was overly sheltered from some real monsters in the closet.

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