Beyond the Door (1974) & Beyond the Door II (1977)

          An Italian production that borrows liberally from The Exorcist (1973) while also anticipating some tropes that later appeared in The Omen (1976), narratively clumsy but visually sleek thriller Beyond the Door features the wholesome British actress Juliet Mills as an everywoman who becomes possessed by a demon while pregnant. In shameless sequences that provoked Exorcist studio Warner Bros. to sue over copyright infringement, the makers of Beyond the Door depict Mills strapped to a bed with gruesome makeup, hissing vulgarities in a guttural voice, levitating, and spewing green vomit. For a good 20 minutes or so, one gets the impression that the filmmakers simply ran a print of The Exorcist and then tried to re-create shots as faithfully as possible. What the filmmakers failed to emulate, of course, is the soul of The Exorcist—although Beyond the Door contains a couple of decent creep-out scenes and unquestionably delivers many appalling images, it’s utterly vacuous on the levels of characterization, motivation, and theme.

          Set and shot in San Francisco, the movie concerns Jessica (Mills), who lives with her husband, Robert (Gabriele Lavia), and their two children. The couple’s teen daughter, Gail (Barbara Fiorini), is an oddball who carries multiple copies of the novel Love Story wherever she goes, and the couple’s preteen son, Ken (David Colin Jr.), enjoys saying four-letter words. Whatever. Upon discovering she’s pregnant, Jessica begins exhibiting strange behavior—she destroys an aquarium, eats a banana peel she finds on the street, and snaps at her kids. Eventually, a physician tells her the pregnancy is advancing at an inexplicably rapid pace, so Jessica becomes convinced that her impending bundle of joy is in fact a bundle of evil. Enter the mysterious Dimitri (Richard Johnson), with whom Jessica has some sort of past history. He’s an exorcist in all but name, so the movie naturally concludes with a sequence during which Dimitri tries to expel the unclean spirit. Thanks to iffy dubbing of Americanized voices over the lip movements of Italian supporting actors, Beyond the Door feels cheaper than it should, since the production values are strong. But then again, seeing as how the material is so shamelessly derivative, who cares?

          Despite outward appearances to the contrary, the subsequent film titled Beyond the Door II is not, in fact, a sequel to the Juliet Mills-starring shocker. Rather, the subsequent film is a wholly separate Mario Bava-directed horror show that was originally titled Shock. Unscrupulous distributors slapped the title Beyond the Door II onto Bava’s flick for its American release in order to lure gullible moviegoers. In any event, Shock a.k.a. Beyond the Door II features an all-Italian cast, dubbed questionably into English. The story follows Dora (Daria Nicolodi), a haunted young woman who moves into a new house with her young son, Marco (played by Beyond the Door kid David Colin Jr.), and her second husband, Bruno (John Steiner). It seems Dora’s first husband died violently at the conclusion of an abusive marriage. Accordingly, Dora becomes delusional and terrified once clues suggest that her first husband has returned from beyond the grave to haunt her.

          Although Beyond the Door II a.k.a. Shock lacks the imaginative visual style of prior Bava films, the director knows his way around a suspense sequence, so the picture does an okay job of conveying Dora’s paranoia. There’s also a fun twist at the end, somewhat in the vein of Edgar Allan Poe. That said, the movie is rushed and superficial. Shock a.k.a Beyond the Door II even contains at least one unintentionally hilarious dialogue exchange. After Bruno says to Dora, “You’re not relaxed,” she replies, “I’m trying really hard to, but after hearing Marco say, ‘Mama, I must kill you,’ that really upset me.” Continuing the abuse of the title from the Juliet Mills picture, the 1988 Italian movie Beyond the Door III has nothing to do with either of the previous Beyond the Door pictures.

Beyond the Door: FUNKY

Beyond the Door II: FUNKY

A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square (1979)

          Inexplicably taking its name from a 1939 romantic ballad that was recorded enough times over the years to become a crusty standard, the weak heist comedy A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square stars the American actor Richard Jordan as an amiable criminal operating on foreign soil. When the UK-made picture begins, Pinky (Jordan) earns parole from a British prison by way of good behavior, promising his jailors that he plans to make an honest living as an electrical engineer. Stretching credibility way past the breaking point, Pinky soon lands a job at a major bank—because, apparently, British financial institutions don’t perform background checks on prospective employees. Anyway, Pinky plays things straight until he inadvertently reconnects with local crime lord Ivan (David Niven), who coerces Pinky into helping Ivan and his crooked gang rob the bank. Various twists and turns ensue, most of which are predictable.

          Although neither writer Guy Elmes nor director Ralph Thomas add much to the vocabulary of heist movies—quite to the contrary, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square is thoroughly forgettable and generic—the filmmakers benefit from a pair of nimble leading players. Jordan, the handsome stage-trained actor who generally fared better with heavy dramatic material, is left adrift throughout much of the movie, because the filmmakers seem unsure about whether to present Jordan’s character as cocksure or sincere. Nonetheless, Jordan lands a few key moments with emotional authenticity, especially during scenes depicting his character under duress. Costar Niven, meanwhile, effortlessly steals the movie with his carefree-urbanite routine, even though the plot requires viewers to accept Niven as having the potential to become a cold-blooded killer. Still, whenever Jordan as the crude and swaggering American is juxtaposed with Niven as the masterful and suave Englishman, it’s possible to see the culture-clash patter the filmmakers presumably envisioned.

          Supporting players Richard Johnson and Oliver Tobias add welcome flavors to the mix as, respectively, a dogged police inspector and Pinky’s best friend. Lost in the shuffle, however, are actresses Gloria Grahame and Elke Sommer. Grahame’s role as the mother of Tobias’ character is inconsequential, and Sommer merely provides eye candy by wearing a succession of slinky outfits and appearing in a laughably gratuitous nude scene. Another problem with the choppily edited movie is the terrible music score by the normally reliable Stanley Myers; the main theme sounds like the house band from Hee-Haw trying to play the theme from The Benny Hill Show.

A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square: FUNKY

Julius Caesar (1970)

          Although the idea of Charlton Heston playing classical roles always inspires trepidation, Heston is quite potent as Marc Anthony in this lusty adaptation of the Shakespeare classic. Instead, it’s the usually impeccable Jason Robards, playing treacherous senator Brutus, who underwhelms. Whereas one might expect Heston’s distinctly American persona to be an impediment in this milieu, his flamboyance fits the grandeur of Shakespearean English; conversely, Robards’ internalized moodiness is too quiet for director Stuart Burge’s muscular approach to the text. Screenwriter Robert Furnival hacked a few passages from the play, shortening the running time and making room for flourishes like an elaborate battlefield finale, but the core of the piece is intact. In 44 B.C., Roman emperor Julius Caesar (John Gielgud) cements his power through military victories, sparking fears among senators like Brutus, Casca (Robert Vaughn), and Cassius (Richard Johnson) that Caesar will seize absolute control. Brutus and his fellow conspirators murder Caesar, triggering a civil war between the conspirators and forces led by Caesar’s best friend, Marc Anthony.

          Burge gives the picture a standard sword-and-sandals look, with extras in flowing robes flitting across soundstages crammed with columns and staircases, so the piece doesn’t really take flight until Burge moves onto location for the climactic battle. That said, he builds an insistent pace and employs enough movement in his blocking to avoid filling the screen with long stretches of static talking heads. Plus, with its scenes of assassination and civil unrest, it’s not as if Julius Caesar lacks for inherent drama. Among the supporting cast, the standouts are Geilgud, bitchy and grandiose as a leader drunk on adulation; Johnson and Vaughn, calculating and cruel as men whose ambition trumps their loyalty; and Diana Rigg, sexy and sly as Brutus’ wife. Ultimately, however, the movie hinges on the interplay between Brutus and Marc Anthony. Robards seems uninterested throughout most of the picture, though his performance gains vigor after the assassination, but Heston is on fire from beginning to end. Clearly relishing the chance to play one of the great roles, Heston attacks monologues with the same animalistic energy he usually brings to the physical aspect of his performances, so he’s magnetic even though his performance choices are obvious and simplistic.

Julius Caesar: FUNKY