Cathy’s Curse (1977) 21st Century Distribution/Horror RT: 90 minutes Rated R (violence, some language, brief nudity) Director: Eddy Matalon Screenplay: Eddy Matalon, Myra Clement and Alain Sens-Cazenave Music: Didier Vasseur Cinematography: Jean-Jacques Tarbes Release date: July 1980 (US) Cast: Alan Scarfe, Beverley Murray, Randi Allen, Dorothy Davis, Mary Morter, Roy Witham, Bryce Allen, Sony Forbes, Bob Girolami, Renee Girard, Peter MacNeill, Linda Koot, Hubert Noel. Box Office: N/A
Rating: ***
I first heard of Cathy’s Curse on an episode of Sneak Previews in ‘79, a weekly movie review program on PBS with film critics Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert. One of them selected it as their “Dog of the Week”. It was one of the many “Evil Child” horror flicks that followed in the wake of The Omen. I knew right away I wanted to see it. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen due to the insurmountable parental R-rated movie block in place at Casa de future Movie Guy 24/7 at the time.
When I finally got my hands on a copy about 16 years later, I wasn’t surprised to discover that the Original Movie Guys were right about Cathy’s Curse. It’s garbage. I also wasn’t surprised to learn that it’s a Canadian tax shelter movie or, as it’s commonly known in film buff circles, Canuxploitation. I watched it and didn’t give it much thought afterwards, relegating it to my VHS archives to gather dust until I felt like giving it another shot. Flash forward to 2020 when I heard talk of a longer cut of the 82-minute schlockfest familiar to American audiences. Sure enough, the 90-minute “Director’s Cut” of Cathy’s Curse is out on Blu-Ray. While it makes a little more sense than the US cut, it’s still as wonky as ever.
The story opens in 1947 with an angry dad (MacNeill, 1996’s Crash) chasing after his wife who took off with their young son and left behind their daughter (Koot) for unspecified reasons. They get into an accident and die. 30 years later, the son George (Scarfe, Lethal Weapon 3) moves back into the old family with his wife Vivian (Murray) and 8YO daughter Cathy (Allen). Vivian is recovering from a nervous breakdown brought on by a miscarriage. George thinks a fresh start in the country is just what she needs. Oh, how wrong he is!
While exploring the attic, Cathy comes across the rag doll her aunt was holding the night she burned to death. How it made it back to the house without the slightest singe mark is a mystery director Eddy Matalon (Blackout) chooses not to address. It’s also never explained why the doll’s eyes are sewn shut. All we know is that once Cathy gets her mitts on the doll, she changes. She’s clearly possessed by the spirit of her dead aunt. In the context of Cathy’s Curse, possession doesn’t only mean she becomes evil. She also gains telekinetic powers and the ability to disappear at will. Her end game is driving her mother insane. Why? Perhaps because of some maternal resentment on Laura’s part? It’s never explained.
In any event, bratty Cathy does all she can to push Vivian over the edge. When she’s not doing that, she engages in other malevolent mischief like sending the housekeeper (Davis, The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane) flying out a window, killing the family dog and violently cursing out the friendly neighborhood medium (Morter, The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane) who only stopped by to impart a crucial piece of information to the mother. She also messes with the mind of alcoholic groundskeeper Paul (Witham) who’s there to egg her on when she verbally attacks the well-meaning but nosy neighbor with such non-niceties as “old bitch” and “fat dried-up whore”.
Speaking of Paul, one of the most perplexing things about Cathy’s Curse is George allowing him to look after Cathy while he’s at work on a construction site (he works 18-hour days) and the mom is in the hospital. IS HE MENTAL?! He barely knows the old coot. For all he knows, the guy could be a pedophile. At one point, we see Cathy sitting on his lap plying him with booze BUT anything that might have occurred is halted when the neighbor drops by. Thank God the movie doesn’t go there.
No ifs, ands or buts about it, Cathy’s Curse is a bad movie. It’s cheaply made, poorly written and badly acted. The special effects are cheesy. The ending is something of a letdown. HOWEVER, I’ll take it over any of today’s terrible PG-13 frightless fright flicks. As a horror fan of many years, I find the likes of The Turning and Fantasy Island an affront to the genre. Despite the money put into them, they always leave me with an empty feeling. I didn’t feel that way after I watched Cathy’s Curse. I know it’s a crummy picture but at least you can see some effort went into the making of it. They didn’t half-ass it or make it kid-friendly for want of a PG-13 rating. Cathy’s Curse is a soft R at best but it’s still an R.
As awful as the acting is in Cathy’s Curse, I must give the actors credit for their dedication to the material. Somehow they manage to keep a straight face amidst all the silliness and illogic. Scarfe takes an almost Shakespearean approach to the role of a clueless dad who believes his daughter is a little angel when she’s more like the spawn of Satan. Can he really not see her for the manipulative little brat she is? Murray is the most unconvincing unhinged lady I’ve ever encountered in reel life. She delivers her dialogue in a stilted manner even when she’s at the height of her histrionics. Allen, on the other hand, makes a pretty good killer kid. She has this evil stare that’s absolutely creepy. An early scene where she directs some local children into reenacting the night of the accident is just plain nutty as it coincides with the medium reliving it in the living room while holding an old photo of the victims. Witham hams it up in a few crazy scenes including one involving rats, snakes and spiders.
It didn’t dawn on me until now that Matalon is going for giallo with Cathy’s Curse. The tone of the movie, the surreal atmosphere, the piano-and-choir score (by Didier Vasseur), the moody cinematography (by Jean-Jacques Tarbes) and the bizarre narrative makes Cathy’s Curse feel like Euro-horror except it’s not. It’s a goofy, low budget horror movie from Canada, one that didn’t make it to the lower 48 for nearly three years. It is its own kind of trash art, an unintentionally funny bad movie with class, a dopey B-movie with artistic integrity. You can’t ask for more than that, can you?
