BLESS THE BEASTS & THE NETWORKS: ECO-HORROR HITS THE SMALL SCREEN
BY LEE GAMBIN

The ecologically themed horror film or the natural horror film had its busiest period during the decade that thrived on the made for TV film— the seventies. Of course born from 1950s Atomic-Age monster movies such as Beginning of the End (1957), Them! (1954) and Tarantula (1955), plus the countless ape movies which were all descendants of King Kong (1933) and then fundamentally established by Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963), the eco-horror film went into full throttle by the early seventies as horror sensibilities were changing rapidly and the global consciousness about environmentalism was taking shape. Films such as Frogs (1972), Willard (1971) and the megahit Jaws (1975) truly cemented this kind of horror film and a subgenre was born that was incredibly successful and popular. While theatrically released films such as Grizzly (1976), The Pack (1977), Food of the Gods (1976) and Night of the Lepus (1972) saw audiences embrace this subdivision of horror, the small screen took on the trope and delivered some bizarre oddities that would be forever remembered by cult film fans everywhere.

In a sturdy unpretentious style, director and auteur Curtis Harrington delivered a subdued and yet almost-flamboyant nature vs man TV movie with The Killer Bees, which lends itself to the “human-help” branch of the eco-horror movie subgenre (where a social misfit or put-upon outsider uses an army of animals to do their bidding). Its premise is geared toward a misanthropic matriarch in the guise of the very seasoned Gloria Swanson (best remembered as the vampiric old guard of the silent era of Hollywood in Billy Wilder’s much lauded noir monster show, Sunset Blvd. [1950]). Swanson’s eccentric harridan has trained swarms of bees that she keeps in hives to attack members of her estranged (and extended) family who get in her way. ABC kept out of his hair during production of the killer bee gem and let him keep his chosen writers, married team Joyce and John Corrington. Their script reads like a melodramatic play only involving very few characters and keeping the boiling tension just under the surface. There is a steady subversive “repression of the true ego” element that permeates the film and themes such as familial trust, domestic unrest and issues concerning alpha-females duking it out head-to-head boil in unison as Swanson chews up the scenery with her busy bees buzzing about. Gloria Swanson, who got along famously with Curtis Harrington, remaining great friends for years to come, is ecstatic in her delivery and as grandiose in every gesture as she is with spewing out some inspired lines. Initially, Bette Davis was approached to take on the role, but was advised by her personal general practitioner not to take the part, because if she was stung by a bee the results would be dire. Davis lovingly sent an apology letter to Harrington expressing her disappointment.

Director Harrington had a lot more fun (and leeway) making The Killer Bees than he did four years later with his next venture into the animal-centric horror film subgenre, Devil Dog: Hound of Hell (1978). Harrington was very vocal in later years about the stress caused by producer Louie Morheim, who he claimed made far too many questionable demands, which included the look of the satanic pooch and the casting choices. The issue of being made for TV concerned Harrington: the auteur thought that Devil Dog would be more interesting and definitely a more scary ride if it was pushed for a cinematic release. Morheim was unmoved, prompting a disgruntled Harrington to leave out any socially aware commentary that he had intended to inject into his film. But this does not mean it is a lost cause: despite the production issues, Devil Dog still holds up as satisfying supernatural hokum. It even opens with a garish and prototypical seventies TV movie satanic ritual (headed by a statuesque high priestess played by the epicene Martine Beswick). Devil Dog: Hound of Hell may not be the film that Harrington intended to make, but it is so ruthlessly charming and oozing with seventies telemovie sensibilities that it is incredibly hard to shun. It is a surprising combination of three horror subgenres; one of course being the eco-horror division of having a dog as primary “monster,” with the other two becoming increasingly popular during the decade. These being the satanic panic trend taking audiences by storm, as well as the evil child subgenre which took its lead primarily from films such as The Bad Seed (1956) but was then bought into an even larger public arena with films such as The Exorcist (1973) and The Omen (1976). The “devil dog” himself (a lovely German Shepherd) would influence the family that adopt him, turning wife and kids against a stoic Richard Crenna who does his best Gregory Peck impression from the aforementioned The Omen.

No VHS artwork in the world could save Richard Crenna from Devil Dog: The Hound of Hell.

Meredith Baxter casts a deadly spell in The Cat Creature.

In 1973, Curtis Harrington also delivered The Cat Creature, which played with the moody and influential horror pictures from producer Val Lewton, such as The Cat People (1944). However, in this seventies ABC Movie of the Week, Harrington decided to maneuver his supernatural focus from shapeshifting (as in Lewton’s effort) to the evil-doings of a common house cat.

Larger felines would prove more threatening in the made for TV arena with The Beasts Are On The Streets (1978). Produced by Joseph Barbera—of Hanna-Barbera fame, that staple of morning cartoon bliss—this bizarre TV movie rings benign on a surface level, but deep down it aggressively chimes with a firm investment in animal liberation and a suggestion that humanity is powerless if animals decide to turn violent. There is something otherworldly in the film’s presentation and its depiction of animals attacking the human cast. It is also perversely satisfying to see these attacks unfold as majestic animals take on unsympathetic people—which is something that the ecohorror film does so well. A Kodiak bear lunges at a car, a panther snarls at a windscreen, elephants stampede, and a giant tiger attacks a hapless human. Unlike William Girdler’s Day of the Animals (1977), which is a frenzied and masterfully executed horror show employing the “Ten Little Indians” motif, The Beasts Are On The Streets might be seen as a superficially playful excursion into the animal-attack subgenre. But as mentioned before, this is not to say that the film does not make clear and passionate commentary on the selfishness, stupidity and malice of the human race in regards to their treatment and disregard for animals. For example, a scene where two obnoxious men drive their beat-up car across the plains chasing ostriches is followed by a herd of rhinoceros that charge at the men and cause them to flee for safety. In this made for TV outing, animals put humans in their place and for devotees to the rights of critters, for the most part, it makes for satisfactory viewing. Lions terrorizing a suburban home is something that is oddly compelling, and a few years later would become a truly frightening image courtesy of the controversial motion picture Roar (1981). The characters that populate the film are archetypal staples that exist in most ecologically themed horror movies: the sympathetic female specialist, the left over cowboy, the innocent babe, the relentlessly hideous hicks and so forth. This human zoo is just as interesting to watch as the bestial counterparts.

But mammals don’t get to have all the fun: made for television ecohorror is also in the service of insects. Ants are a social and community minded species that feature as the number one threat in the 1977 camp fan favorite, It Happened At Lakewood Manor (more often known simply as Ants). Parallels between human society and ant society are the focal point of the visually stunning big screen outing, Phase IV (1974), and also the giant ant extravaganza, Empire of the Ants (1977). But in It Happened At Lakewood Manor, ants become the enemy of the people for a melting pot cast that could easily populate a busy Irwin Allen disaster movie. Starring horror movie regular Lynda Day George (Day of the Animals, Pieces [1982], Mortuary [1983]) and, as her mother, the fabulous Myrna Loy (no stranger to horror with films such as Thirteen Women [1932] and The Mask of Fu Manchu [1932] under her belt), the movie sees ants ingest a powerful insecticide which makes them develop a taste for human flesh, causing much chaos at a world-renowned hotel.

Social issues concerning the relationship between South America and the United States are raised in the brightly lit and endearing The Bees (1978), which was bought to television screens by Roger Corman’s New World Pictures. At the time, Warner Bros. felt that the film might affect the box office of Irwin Allen’s big budget showcase, The Swarm, and urged New World Pictures to delay the air date, thus opening their film without adverse killer bee competition. Starring John Saxon and horror legend John Carradine, The Bees is a low scale variant on The Swarm, which has a key focus on African killer bees. Also of note, The Swarm, with its incredible cast and budget, came a couple of years after the made for television The Savage Bees (1976), which also incorporated a very similar story. Here African killer bees terrorize the annual Mardi Gras celebration; in Irwin Allen’s epic, the bees swarm a festival of flowers hosted by the likes of Olivia De Havilland and Fred MacMurray.

Along with bees, spiders featured in TV movies as nasty predators. Tarantulas: The Deadly Cargo (1977), once again similar to The Savage Bees, has killer critters imported from a foreign land to wreak havoc on unsuspecting Americans. In many ways, this genuinely creepy and highly effective mesmerizing spider infested telemovie looks as though it inspired Steven Spielberg and company to deliver some family-friendly horror with their nineties hit, Arachnophobia. The narrative similarities are too obvious to ignore. While Arachnophobia is terrific, Tarantulas: The Deadly Cargo is a straight-up horror show without the likes of John Goodman providing broad comic relief.

Rosemary’s Baby had a belated made for television sequel in 1976, so why not The Birds? Why not, indeed… Tippi Hedren, who, as socialite Melanie Daniels, “bought the avian threat to Bodega Bay” in Hitchcock’s 1963 masterpiece, returns in The Birds II: Land’s End (1994). Ms Hedren was horribly embarrassed by the unofficial and silly sequel, an atrocious mess that pits a grieving family against angry seagulls, ravens and more furious feathered felons. One of its faults is that it comes from the wrong era, with a colorless tone and an oppressive nineties flatness.

Original TV Guide ad for The Beasts are on the Streets.

By contrast, The Rats, which has nothing to do with James Herbert’s moody horror novel, was made in 2002 but is decidedly very seventies in its approach and ethos, being largely set in a rat infested department store. However, for the most part, made for TV eco-horror movies post-1970s are uninspired and far too self-aware to have the charm, personality and sincerity that films such as Devil Dog: Hound of Hell, The Killer Bees and The Beasts Are On The Streets proudly possess.