Affable mentally challenged Bubba Ritter (Larry Drake) enjoys an innocent friendship with a sweet little girl named Marylee Williams (Tonya Crowe). The two spend autumn days in their small Southern town singing songs, playing games, and making flower chains. Unfortunately, their creepy postman Otis (Charles Durning) projects his own ugly thoughts upon them and declares to anyone who will listen that something untoward is going on. One day, to Bubba’s horror, a dog ravages Marylee, and when he carries the girl’s bloody body to safety, her hysterical mother assumes Bubba is responsible! Thinking his worst assumptions have been proven true, obstinate Otis gathers a bunch of his knuckleheaded pals who form a vigilante mob. Meanwhile, Bubba’s mother, who is used to incriminations against her child, suggests he hide in plain sight dressed up as a scarecrow until the mess blows over. Otis, along with his henchman discover poor Bubba’s ruse and assassinate him just before Marylee regains consciousness and reveals what really happened. When Otis and his cohorts go free due to lack of evidence, Bubba’s mother warns, “There’s other justice in this world besides the law” and oh how right she is. As Halloween season commences, all those responsible for the unjust demise of Bubba will come to horrible deaths as an ominous scarecrow is seen haunting the fields.

Directed by novelist Frank De Felitta (Audrey Rose, The Entity), the 1981 made-for-television film DARK NIGHT OF THE SCARECROW is a simple, yet deeply poetic morality tale rife with atmosphere and suspense. Larry Drake’s performance as innocent Bubba is outstanding and if there has ever been a more detestable villain than Charles Durning’s unscrupulous mailman Otis, I’m not aware of said monster. The impeccable cast also includes Jocelyn Brando who shines as Bubba’s mother and the voice of reason and righteousness within the unfortunate chaos. It’s difficult not to get roused by the bigotry and fragrant injustice imposed upon Bubba and his mother and to gleefully luxuriate in the well-deserved comeuppance inflicted on those who deserve it.

Anyone who was lucky enough to capture this perfectly constructed film on the night it premiered, caught its frequent re-airings, or rented the sometimes hard-to-find Key Video VHS tape can attest that DARK NIGHT OF THE SCARECROW is not only one of the best made-for-TV horror movies out there but also one of the greatest supernatural revenge films of all time (I honestly feel like marching down my street with a “Bubba Didn’t Do It” picket sign as we speak). Loaded with many a memorable moment and a deadly force as sympathetic as it is chilling, this is one uniquely cathartic horror film in which every murder feels absolutely justified.

POLTERGEIST II: THE OTHER SIDE (1986) may not glow with the bright raw power of its superior predecessor, but its corny heart is in the right place; it sports some great performances, has a fantastic Jerry Goldsmith score (which I’m listening to now), and is the home to more than a few potent as hell kindertraumas. Here are some that spring immediately to my mind; feel free to add your personal favorites in the comments.

Reverend Kane at the Door. Don’t blame the self-confessed, downwardly mobile Freeling family for their temporary digs, shacking up with Grammy Jess (Geraldine Fitzgerald) in Arizona; keep in mind their previous home up and disappeared into another dimension. One day while playing in the front yard Carol Anne (Heather O’Rourke) spies the same ghoulishly macabre, slinky man, who freaked her out earlier at the mall approaching with an apparent rain cloud over his head. Now, every scene which features Julian Beck’s incredible performance as sinister, deceased cult leader Reverend Kane is gruesomely effective but his attempt to enter the Freeling’s current temporary place of residence really takes the cake. After ignoring every possible not-so-subtle cue that he’s very much not welcome, insulting our favorite father’s manhood while attempting to Jedi-mind trick him, and even getting rebuffed with a whimper by the family dog (the heroic Pooch E. Buzz) he takes his gloves off and cuts to the chase screaming, “You’re all going to die in there!” It’s simple, to the point, and considering the family’s track record, hard to dispute.

The Demonic Tequila Worm. Rightfully frazzled thanks to the current onslaught of supernatural activity, Steve Freeling (Craig T. Nelson) understandably turns to a bottle of tequila to buffer the perpetual chaos. Unfortunately, he also inadvertently swallows a worm from the bottle which houses the spirit of Reverend Kane (aka The Beast), and soon he is cackling like a maniac, hurling hurtful accusations and forcing himself upon his mortified wife Diane (JoBeth Williams). In a last-ditch effort to break through to her husband, who is clearly possessed by an evil entity, Diane reaffirms her love for Steve which results in him puking up a humungous, mucus-covered creature with Kane’s snarling face which slithers away to wreak havoc elsewhere. The scene works as a pure gross-out extravaganza (the special effects are amazing) but hits much deeper on a psychological level as it’s truly disturbing to see such a beloved character behave in such a fashion. Simultaneously, it stokes fears of losing control over one’s actions as the audience has grown to empathize with this character (who may possibly be horror’s greatest father figure). It’s all very off-putting and must be particularly so for anyone who has ever known a loved one who suffered from mental illness or alcoholism.

Lawn of the Dead. Poor Diane Freeling always seems to be a corpse magnet! While processing and grieving the death of her beloved clairvoyant mother Gramma Jess (sorry for the spoiler), Diane has a very bad dream. She’s out in the front yard next to the lovely rose garden she and her mother once planted when a bunch of skeletal hands pop up from the ground and grab her. Worse still, a multitude of decrepit corpses yank her into the ground and then the soil returns to its previous state as if she never existed. There is a multitude of in-your-face dangers carousing about in P2 (even a floating chainsaw) but for some reason, this incidental jump-scare nightmare that pointedly expresses the unanimous fear of the grave is always a direct hit to my morbid heart.

RETURN TO OZ (‘85) deserves a great deal more respect than what it is often granted. It’s safe to assume that 1939’s THE WIZARD OF OZ is held in such high regard that critics simply could not accept such a wildly divergent interpretation of L. Frank Baum’s “OZ” books (even if it was more loyal to the original source material). Well, THE WIZARD OF OZ being a great, beloved classic movie does not stop RETURN TO OZ from being an incredible, one-of-a-kind, dark fantasy film. Director Walter Murch (best known for his editing and sound work on such fine films as the GODFATHER TRILOGY & APOCALYPSE NOW) delivers a gorgeously gothic and terrifically trippy steampunk world like no other that is equal parts amusing and menacing and he obtains wonderfully grounded work from the human cast while making impossible creatures convincingly come to life (with the help of many gifted claymation and practical artists including members of the Jim Henson Company). RETURN TO OZ conveys the bizarre, dream-like world of a child’s imagination perfectly while being a gentle reminder of the importance of friendship (especially of the non-human variety; my favorite kind), teamwork and devotion in a dangerous, unpredictable world.

All that being said, any OZ movie worth it’s salt, be it the OG, THE WIZ or RETURN has got to deliver on the kindertrauma front. The land of OZ is just not the land of OZ unless it’s freaky as all hell and full of heinous child endangering witches, beasts, and monsters (oh, my!) Naturally RETURN is no slouch in this all-important area so lets take a look at its boldest strokes:

THE SANITARIUM. What better way to kick-off a colorful, high-spirited romp than visiting a dour mental institution that looks like it was painted by Edvard Munch during a particularly depressing period of his life? It’s six months after Dorothy Gale (a remarkably restrained and convincing Fairuza Balk in her screen debut) first visited Oz and Auntie Em (Piper Laurie, everyone’s favorite maternal figure) and Uncle Henry (Matt Clark) are worried the tyke is so delusional about her experiences that some good old electro-shock therapy is in order. The poor girl is first made to acknowledge that the electrotherapy machine has a smiling face and is soon strapped down to a squeaky wheeled gurney and prepped for the procedure. Luckily for Dorothy, there is a power outage due to a lightening strike and a kind girl frees her from her straps. The girl informs Dorothy that the screams she has been hearing are coming from previous recipients of the procedure who are now “damaged” and locked in the basement! It’s all very stressful and it could be said that the trauma triggers Dorothy into dissociating to the degree that she must travel back to Oz in order to process it all.

Dorothy’s rescuer (Emma Ridley) becomes Princess Ozma, scary Dr. Worley (Nicol Williamson) becomes the dreaded Nome King, creepy Nurse Wilson (Jean Marsh) becomes evil witch-princess Mombi and her twisted assistant (Pons Maar) transforms from a squeaky gurney operator into the ring leader of…

THE WHEELERS. Not long after Dorothy has returned to Oz with her pet chicken Billina who can now talk (Toto wisely hangs back in Kansas for this outing), she encounters some graffiti warning “Beware the Wheelers.” Soon she is surrounded by these cackling creatures with wheels rather than feet and hands who roll across the terrain doing the bidding of Wicked Witch placeholder Mombi. Wheelers are notorious for freaking out younger viewers as well they should be; they’re objectively alarming, chaotic creations who straight forwardly threaten to kill Dorothy by throwing her in the deadly desert which will turn her to sand (although it’s not much worse than Aunt Em’s threat to make stew of Billina if she fails to lay eggs).

HEADLESS MOMBI. No, we’re not in Kansas anymore but we’re not in the Oz we know and love either. The Nome king has turned all the residents of Oz into stone and Mombi has gone and grabbed a bunch of their severed heads for herself which she keeps in glass cabinets and wears as her own when it suits her. When Dorothy is captured by Mombi, her plan of escape involves procuring Mombi’s “Power of Life” powder which she keeps in a cabinet with her favorite noggin. Of course Mombi wakes up, all the decapitated heads wail and Dorothy narrowly escapes the rampaging witch’s headless body. No doubt about it, it all screams pure unadulterated horror.

Don’t worry, Dorothy can handle it. She looks fear in the face and soldiers on. She makes awesome new friends along the way like Tik-Tok, Jack Pumpkinhead, a flying couch with a green moose head called a Gump (it’s a long story) and wins the respect of every single reasonable person in the land of Oz. At one point the manipulative Nome King even offers Dorothy a free trip home if she’s willing to abandon her friends and it’s obvious the very idea is unthinkable to her. Nome King and Mombi (as well as jerk-offs Doctor Worley and Nurse Wilson) clearly don’t know who they’re dealing with! Sure, RETURN TO OZ can sometimes be a dark and threatening journey for some younger viewers but I’d say the sometimes frightening dangers it presents only serve to make its larger message of perseverance and loyalty all that much stronger.

BAD RONALD is a made-for-television movie based on a book of the same name by Jack Vance that originally aired on the 23rd of October 1974. In its brief seventy-four minute runtime, it packs many a creepy thrill as it examines the mind of an isolated outsider as he slides swiftly toward a psychotic break. Challenging viewers’ sympathies with the titular character at regular intervals, BAD RONALD juggles a dark character study, a family drama, suspense, and finally horror in a unique way. It’s easy to find yourself scared FOR Ronald and scared OF Ronald at the same time and it’s never quite clear just how “bad” Ronald is willing to get in order to preserve the fantasy world he has armored himself with.

Ronald Wilby (Scott Jacoby) is a social pariah who lives with the knowledge that when his parents were divorced, his father made a deal with his mother (Kim Hunter) to break all ties in exchange for never having to pay child support. One day after fleeing a humiliating experience with an unrequited crush at a pool party, Ronald bumps into his crush’s younger sister who makes the mistake of dissing his mom. Ronald loses his temper, pushes the girl to the ground, and unfortunately, her head hits a cinder block causing her death. He then buries the girl in a shallow grave and heads home. After hearing of the incident, Ronald’s mother crafts a secret room out of a downstairs bathroom where he can hide away from the world and avoid prosecution. The plan works fine for a while until Ronald’s mother dies and the house is sold to a new family. Observing the new residents from his concealed space, Ronald becomes obsessed with one of the daughters and begins to lose his grip on reality. Madness, another dead body, and multiple kidnappings ensue until finally Ronald’s eye is spied in a peephole and he comes crashing through a false wall raving like a madman and is apprehended.

BAD RONALD is in an awkward position when it comes to delivering scares. For most of the runtime, the audience has been led to sympathize with Ronald’s plight and most of the tension comes from the fear that he might be found out. Yet, when an innocent family is in danger and Ronald’s sanity clearly begins to unravel, gears are switched and anguish and concern are stoked over what he is actually capable of. No matter your level of empathy for Ronald though, the idea of a person secretly hiding in your walls and spying on you is inescapably unnerving. I’m sure many young folks went to bed after viewing BAD RONALD on TV (it was a late-night staple for decades) with their imaginations ignited with thoughts of some unseen presence hiding nearby, quietly watching and waiting.

Positive (not to mention creeped-out) word of mouth has kept BAD RONALD notorious for decades. Happily, it’s one of the lucky few TV movies that have been consistently available on home media from VHS to DVD and more recently Blu-ray (Note: the latter two of which sport an applauding quote from this very page on the back). Something about this tale of an antisocial misfit covertly lodging within a family’s walls has kept Ronald’s legend alive and spreading like a whispered urban legend (there was even a short-lived popular band named after the telefilm). Ronald himself may have been a shunned outcast but the film that bears his name couldn’t be more popular among those who enjoy classic made-for-TV horror. Now, go check your walls for peepholes.

On December 10th, 1982 ABC aired the horror-thriller DON’T GO TO SLEEP at 9PM. This “ABC Friday Night Movie” was produced and directed by Richard Lang, executive produced by Aaron Spelling & Douglas S. Cramer, and written by actor/screenwriter Ned Wynn. The unique production combined BAD SEED-inspired evil child elements with the popular slasher movie formula of its day while still tightly embracing the heart of a classic gothic ghost story. The end result (in my opinion anyway) is arguably the best made-for-TV horror film of its decade.

When recovering from the death of a child maybe it’s not a good idea to move into a house with the address of 13666.

Dad Phillip (Dennis Weaver), Mom Laura (Valerie Harper), daughter Mary (Robin Ignico) son Kevin (Oliver Robins), and cantankerous grandma Bernice (the great Ruth Gordon) are hoping for a new start after eldest child Jennifer (Kristin Cumming) died in a tragic car fire. All’s well until the ghost of Jennifer seemingly appears before Mary, vocalizing a grudge that won’t be satiated until the entire family is dead. Is Mary mad as a hatter and hallucinating her sister or has her devious sibling really come back for revenge? In any case, burning beds, iguana-induced heart attacks, rooftop falls and baths with electricity ensue. Eventually, Mary is prime suspect number one and is fitted with a child-sized straight jacket and shoved into a padded room where she recounts the genesis of the horror and becomes the poster child for those suffering from middle child syndrome everywhere.

Two scenes, in particular, seem to have been seared into viewer’s memories deeper than others. One involves a pizza cutter being used as a threatening murder weapon (hey, this was during the eighties slasher boom when literally no tool found in a kitchen, garage, or barn was out of bounds as an instrument of death), and the other concerns the movie’s door slamming mind-blowing closure. The latter delivers a visual so eerie that it boggles the mind how it could be so perfectly constructed without some kind of trickery. I won’t spoil much here but it presents the creepiest Cheshire Cat grin I pray I’ll ever have to witness. Not since I think, THE HAUNTING (‘63) has a singular image carried so much phantasmagorical weight.

Momentary lapses toward soap opera histrionics aside, DON’T GO TO SLEEP delivers an exceptionally dark vision of family dysfunction, sibling rivalry, grief, and finally insanity. Unlike the same year’s ghost spectacle POLTERGEIST (which shares actor Oliver Robins) there’s no “phew!” happy relief ending and few family members survive. You may need a neck brace for the way this movie’s mood swings from campy to cutthroat to undeniably uncanny and back again. Absurdities abound (that pizza cutter!) but don’t be surprised if this TV movie’s final image is difficult to shake from your brain.

Two horror titans joined forces on TV screens across America on the night of November 17, 1979 when CBS aired SALEM’S LOT. Tobe Hooper, who helmed the blood curdling THE TEXAS CHINSAW MASSACRE (‘74) and Stephen King, the mind responsible for the horror juggernaut CARRIE, were a powerful combination few could prepare themselves for. As if having their living rooms invaded by sights guaranteed to rob them of peaceful slumber wasn’t diabolical enough, viewers would have to wait a full week until November 24 for the miniseries’ jaw-dropping conclusion. At the time both horror masters were playing outside of their comfort zones. King’s novel was more expansive than anything he’d attempted before, juggling an entire town of characters as he scrutinized a vampire infested PEYTON PLACE as it careened toward Hell, while Hooper pointedly steered his trademark manic, ultra violence toward the eerie and uncanny.

Novelist Ben Mears (David Soul) returns to his hometown of Salem’s Lot determined to confront and ultimately be inspired by a childhood fear. Once upon a time, he broke into the town’s notoriously haunted Marsten House and he has been forever unable to shake what he encountered within.

As it turns out, Ben finds that the ominous mansion has been recently purchased for one Kurt Barlow by his shady henchman Richard Straker (James Mason). Strange happenings, disappearances and murders begin to contaminate the town and we come to understand that Barlow is actually a hideous vampire bent on devouring all in his path. As the town buckles under Barlow’s menacing will, Ben finds allies in love interest Susan Norton (Bonnie Bedelia) and teenage horror movie fan Mark Petrie (Lance Kerwin) who has witnessed his family and friends meeting horrific fates firsthand.

Although created for broadcast television, in the hands of Hooper, SALEM’S LOT offers a plethora of unforgettable nightmare inducing imagery. Taking liberties from King’s novel, Barlow is presented as a silent ghoul unnervingly inspired by Max Schreck’s Count Orlok in NOSFERATU (‘22). No matter how brief it may be, his every appearance stuns with the power of a lightening bolt. Even his possessed undead victims (Mike Yerson as played by Geoffrey Lewis for example) are horrifically demonic in appearance complete with otherworldly glowing eyes and serpentine, hissing voices.

As much as SALEM’S LOT offers a chocolate box assortment in the indelible scares department (did I mention the death by antler impalement or Mark’s parent’s heads being knocked together?), there’s one sublimely pitch perfect moment of abject terror that stands (or floats, rather) above the rest. After a frightening abduction in the woods, a young boy named Ralphie Glick goes missing while his older brother Danny escapes stunned. Later as Danny prepares for sleep, Ralphie appears before him in his bedroom widow smiling deviously, scratching on the glass and hovering about in an eerie fog that appears to roll in reverse. Everything about the scene strikes a cord of discomfort. Devilishly, the mortifying set up is returned to again when an infected Danny mirrors the same routine upon his pal Mark (who is fortunately versed in horror cinema and makes wise use of a handy cross).

Viewership for SALEM’S LOT was so great that there was talk of using the miniseries as a springboard for a weekly series. Reviews were mostly glowing (in fact, Blu-rays feature a blurb on the back from yours truly declaring it, “One of the last truly great gothic vampire films”) and the success further solidified Hooper and King’s reputations as masters of the genre. The productions’ portrayal of vampirism proved influential as well. Almost overnight the (then popular) image of vampires as darkly romantic love interests reverted to visions of them as soulless parasitic monsters associated with death and decay. In 1987, Larry Cohen delivered a half-hearted, tongue-in-cheek sequel called A RETURN TO SALEM’S LOT but it did little more than stoke nostalgia for the original and in 2004, a respectful remake was attempted for cable television that boasted a game cast but far less potent scares. As of this writing, yet another adaptation has been announced, this one destined for a theatrical release. It’s impossible to say what future visits to the fictional Maine town of Salem’s Lot will unearth but it’s quite clear you can’t keep a good vampire down for long.