Midnight (1982) Independent International/Horror RT: 94 minutes Rated R (violence, language, sexual content) Director: John Russo Screenplay: John Russo Music: Paul McCollough Cinematography: Paul McCollough Release date: December 10, 1982 (Philadelphia, PA) Cast: Melanie Verliin, Lawrence Tierney, John Hall, Charles Jackson, David Marchick, Greg Besnak, John Amplas, Robin Walsh, Ellie Wyler, Bob Johnson, Lachele Carl, Doris Hackney, Jackie Nicoll, Maura Minteer, Doug Mertz, Bud Mellot, Debra Smith, Daniel Costello, Chris Riblett, Billy Green, Amy Brinton. Box Office: N/A
Rating: **
Director John Russo is best known for writing the screenplay for George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. In fact, my first encounter with the horror classic was Russo’s novelization of the movie. I bought it at a used paperback shop when I was 13. It wasn’t a bad read, but it hardly measures up to the raw, visceral experience of Romero’s movie shot on location in rural Pennsylvania on a small budget ($114,000). It went on to become a hit and a classic of the genre. Russo tried to duplicate Romero’s success with his own low-budget horror movie Midnight about a satanic cult in hick country. It too was shot in rural PA on a small budget ($200,000). It went on to fade into obscurity. Released in ’82, it didn’t even come out on video until eight years later.
Naturally, I remember when Midnight hit theaters in my neck of the woods. I was going to see it with a friend, but we opted for 48 Hrs. instead. Looking back, we made the right choice. To put it bluntly, it’s lame. Although it has atmosphere, it isn’t scary, not even a tiny bit. A lot of it has to do with the poorly handled black mass sequences which should be the film’s main selling point. Instead, they’re its greatest weakness.
Midnight mainly centers on teenage Nancy (Verliin), a lapsed Catholic seeking redemption after two years of sinning with her now ex-boyfriend. That’s right, it’s our old friend Mr. Catholic Guilt. Her home life isn’t exactly conducive to making atonement for her sins. Her alcoholic stepdad Bert (Tierney, pre-Reservoir Dogs) keeps coming on to her when Mom (Hackney) isn’t around. When he tries to rape her, she knocks him out and runs away from home.
Hoping to get to her sister in California, Nancy hitches a ride with Tom (Hall) and Hank (Jackson), a couple of college guys headed to Florida for spring break. They assure her that it would be easier for her to find a ride to the West Coast down there with all the kids from different schools than hitchhiking across the country. That makes sense, it does. What doesn’t make sense is why these dumb kids don’t get on the highway. It’s faster, more direct and you’re less likely to run into the kind of trouble found only in backwoods areas of the country.
I would posit that neither Tom nor Hank know anything about traveling through backwoods towns. If they did, they’d know better than to stop at a bar for a six pack of beer. These places are always filled with redneck racists not inclined to offer a handshake and warm welcome to outsiders, especially if one of them is black (which Hank is). The local cops aren’t much better. They’re not in a safe place. So what’s the first thing they do after a shotgun-toting deputy and a small lynch mob chase them off? Why, they head to the local grocery store to indulge in a bit (nay, A LOT) of shoplifting. What else? They’re chased by cops, but manage to lose them on some back road where they see a creepy fat guy in overalls coming out of the woods carrying what appears to be a dead body wrapped in a sheet. So what do these geniuses do next? They set up camp nearby, of course. What, these dudes can’t read an AAA guide? GET ON THE DAMN HIGHWAY, YOU MORONS!!!
It isn’t long before our trio encounters the Satan-worshipping family we met in the opening scene. Disguised as deputies, Luke (Besnak) and Abraham (Amplas) terrorize the guys before executing them. Who they’re really after is Nancy. They need her to complete a ritual. Actually, they need three girls. After a chase, the brothers manage to corner Nancy and put her in a dog cage to await death by human sacrifice. Meanwhile, Bert tries to track down Nancy and bring her home at the behest of her worried mother.
In all fairness, I can’t say Midnight is exactly terrible. It’s bad alright, but not terrible. Russo imbues it with a nice sense of rural doom and gloom. At times, it’s even a little unsettling. He’s obviously going for something similar to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Unfortunately, Midnight doesn’t even come close to the Tobe Hooper classic. The Sawyer place was a true house of horrors; I still get the creeps when I think of the interior décor. It’s where nightmares are made. Creepy stuff goes on in the Satanists’ house, including one thing that has me convinced they’re distantly related to Norman Bates, but it fails to evoke a strong sense of horror or unease. I’m also disappointed in the lack of gore. There’s some, but not enough. This one should have been a bloodbath. It’s the type of movie that should carry a “No One Under 17 Admitted” policy instead of a rating.
The acting in Midnight is amateurish and atrocious. It’s a real low point for Tierney best known for playing criminals and tough guys in 40s and 50s movies- e.g. he played the title role in 1945’s Dillinger. It’s a big step down for him, BUT he’s not the only actor to accept roles in schlock films in his twilight years. Look at John Carradine. If I’m being honest, Tierney delivers the best performance in Midnight which isn’t saying anything at all given how awful everybody else is. I’m sure the actors tried their hardest though.
Okay, so Midnight isn’t a good movie. It’s not scary or suspenseful. Most of the time, it’s idiotic. It’s poorly written. It has a cheap look to it and this one super cheesy song “Midnight Again” that’s played more than once. At best, it’s a forgettable slice of dreck. Yet I find myself hard-pressed to dismiss it as crap and dump it on the cinematic junk heap. It has a certain purity in form found only in cheap 70s and 80s horror movies from no-name studios. On that level alone, I admire Midnight. I just think Russo could’ve done better; after all, look at who mentored him.
