#3: Deathdream (AKA Dead Of Night) (1974) (dir. Bob Clark)

A blood-curdling film with an all-time great horror performance from Richard Backus - this is my favorite Bob Clark movie and showcases the impact of PTSD.

There’s something about Andy’s smile. It’s slow to reveal itself and doesn’t look natural. In fact, just about everything about Andy seems off. Revisiting this movie, I realized that in terms of horror films the ones I find the most upsetting are the ones where families are shattered, desperate to pick up the pieces. They seem oblivious to the fact that no matter how hard they try to hold on to the past, what they once were isn’t what they’re capable of being anymore.

If only Deathdream could be considered a Christmas movie then Clark would’ve made three of the greatest films of that kind ever. This is actually my favorite because of how sad it is from beginning to end. Here we have one of many examples of films that I’ll be writing about in which they’ve slowly turned into favorites upon subsequent viewings. I believe this one was brought to my attention via podcaster and friend Bill Ackerman.

First time I saw it, I thought of the initial concept as Coming Home only as a horror film (though most stories about soldiers returning from war usually involve turmoil that borders on horror). It’s much more than that. Like Gary Sherman’s Dead & Buried, this is my kind of slowly enveloping zombie picture - it even ranks higher for me than some of Romero’s beloved classics (similarly, Romero’s Martin is my kind of vampire movie).

Deathdream is about Andy Brooks, who’s killed in the Vietnam War, yet makes his way back home again seemingly okay - as long as he’s got fresh human blood to keep him from decaying. Charles and Christine Brooks receive a telegram one evening that their son Andy has been killed in Vietnam. Christine, refusing to believe that her son is dead, wishes for his safe return, chanting to the heavens as if she were in a seance. Later that night, Andy comes home much to everyone's astonishment. But something's not quite right with Andy. Is it PTSD?

Well we can probably ascertain that there’s something sinister going on. Bodies begin turning up drained of blood, Andy seems to be a different person from when he left and his relationships with his family are affected. Clark makes it a point to include subtle moments such as Andy not holding the door open for his friends and partner as they exit the home to go out for the night. He lacks any ability to connect on a human level - it’s only about survival from this point forward. “I died for you, Doctor. Why shouldn’t you return the favor,” Andy says when the family doctor reaches out to help.

a psychodrama of intense political anger and hopelessness, a quintessential 'return of the repressed' text - marshlandz

This film is seemingly a reworking of W.W. Jacob’s enduring short story The Monkey’s Paw (1902), which made famous the cautionary phrase, “Be careful for what you wish.” Mom wants her son to come back like any parent would but there are consequences to this desire. She says, “You promised. You’re alive. I know it. They lied.” Her relentless need for her son to return may be the catalyst. Furthermore, there is no cause or reason given as to why Andy has become this way. Writer and early Clark collaborator Alan Ormsby really knew how to keep things mysterious throughout this story.

Richard Backus as Andy does so much with very little here. Monosyllabic replies (or complete silence) take the place of outward acts of violence (aside from a couple of kills - one of which is among the most upsetting I’ve ever seen because it doesn’t involve a person). It makes the experience more mysterious and eerie seeing him expressionless and sociopathic. “I’m not mad… or anything.” The emphasis on his delivery of anything is worth pointing out. He’s not really there anymore - almost blank but often reactionary without purpose. In a way he has become Gomer Pyle from Full Metal Jacket if he hadn’t shot himself in the head at the end. Also I would imagine that Joe Dante saw this film and very loosely adapted it for his Masters of Horror satire, Homecoming, in which zombie soldiers that were lost in the Iraq War come home to influence a presidential election. 

Clark underscores a comatose-like response to trauma by having the morose, often wordless Andy sit listlessly on the lawn chair in the back yard or staring alone in the dark in his upstairs bedroom, rocking rhythmically on a rocking chair, a repetitive squeaking of which drives his father insane. One can be reminded of the way Sam Neill’s character in Possession fast and furiously rocks back and forth in the same kind of chair. But really his lack of expression scares everyone around him and has a similar effect on the viewer. Later on he does take on different wardrobe to emphasize his transformation, complete with dark sunglasses and black gloves - never a good sign especially wearing them at night at a drive-in.

Backus gives an all-time great horror performance that deserves more attention. Same goes for both of the parents (John Marley and Lynn Carlin) who you can tell were previously in John Cassavetes movies because unlike Backus, they go BIG but not in a way that feels forced or overplayed for dramatic effet. At times, scenes of conflict and emotional abuse feel like extensions of the family dynamics that Cassavetes portrayed in his work. The father struggles with alcoholism or even possessing unconditional love especially now that his son has returned. Mom even challenges him at one point about this fact. She’s quite the opposite: she probably loves Andy a bit too much so growing up, it’s clear Andy may have experienced two extreme types of attachment styles from vastly different parents (no further comment on that at this time from my personal POV).

The film is also noteworthy for being Tom Savini’s first professional job as special effects make-up artist (co-credited with Ormsby) and as good as they are, it’s truly the cinematography and the score that set this apart as well. Dramatic zooms are employed for very slow shaky point-of-view shots such as when Andy is first approaching his home late at night. I was reminded of the kind of sound design you’d hear that same year in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Non-diegetic noises are often filtered through what sounds like a BOSS digital delay pedal with a mind of its own. Whispers, hums, clangs and scrapes - they surround you throughout the film as if we’re being invaded by an evil force in the same way the family is. 

The slow zoom out from the family laughing inside while Andy is staring blankly is what I think about the most outside of the final, remarkably heartrending scene while the closing credits play. Mom says to Andy, “They said you were dead.” Andy replies with, “I was.” Then there’s that smile. The family laughs manically to the point of discomfort maybe to ease the tension. The aforementioned slow exterior zoom outwards from the window to reveal the family home that will never ever be the same from that point forward.

“Everyone changes eventually,” says Andy. Especially after experiencing war. That’s what the film ultimately is about. I tend to use the word unnerving a lot as a go-to for favorite horror films. Unsettling is another. Even if Deathdream isn’t scary in the traditional sense, those two other descriptors apply. It does fall under the category of a movie from this era that feels like a nightmare - the endless kind that war tends to create in the minds of not only the soldiers who fight but for the families that end up dealing with the aftermath of a tragic loss. When I revisit this, it’s hard to shake the feeling it leaves once it’s over.

Buy the Blu-Ray: Deathdream (AKA Dead Of Night)