NaNoWriMo 2012

If you are wondering why I have not been posting much of late, it is because I am once more participating in National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo for short. For those of you who don't know, NaNoWriMo is essentially a month long, writing event in which participants try to write a 50,000 word novel in only the thirty days of November. While it is still called "National Novel Writing Month," it has truly become an international event. Many people from many nations now participate.

NaNoWriMo was started in July 1999 by writer Chris Baty and its first year only had twenty participants, all of them in the San Francisco area. It has grown in leaps and bounds since that time. By 2000 it had its own website and had grown to 140 participants. NaNoWriMo really took off in 2001. That year they had expected only 150 participants. Instead they had 5000. What is even more surprising is that at that time NaNoWriMo did not yet have an automated system through which people could register. Every registration had to be done by hand! It has since grown even more, with 59,703 people participating in 2005 and 101,767 in 2006.

At any rate, until 30 November I am going to be working on my novel of the moment. Between that and my other writing, blog posts might be a little sparse here. Rest assured, I will make at least three posts a week as usual!

Clive Dunn Passes On

Clive Dunn, perhaps best known for playing Lance Corporal Jones on Dad's Army, died today, 7 November 2012. He was 92 years old

Clive Dunn was born 9 January 1920 in London. He attended Sevenoaks School in Kent. At 16 he left school to seek a career in acting. He studied acting at  Italia Conti Academy of Theatre Arts, in London. Before he had even left school, however, he had made his film debut in an uncredited bit part in Boys Will Be Boys in 1935. He would also play bit parts in Good Morning, Boys (1937) and A Yank at Oxford (1938). With World War II Mr. Dunn volunteered for the Volunteer Ambulance Service. In 1940 he was drafted into the British Army. He served in the 4th Hussars in Greece. Eventually he was captured by the German Army. He spent the remainder of World War II as a prisoner. After being liberated, he remained with the British Army until 1947.

In 1949 Clive Dunn returned to film with The Hasty Heart. He then appeared in the film Boys in Brown (1949); however, it would be on television where Mr. Dunn would spend most of his career. He made his television debut on an episode of  Five Children and It in 1951. During the Fifties he would be a regular on Happy Holidays, The Tony Hancock Show, and After Hours. He also appeared on the shows The Railway Children, Studio E, Musical Playhouse, and The Dickie Henderson Half-Hour. He appeared in the film Hot Money Girl (1959).

In the Sixties Clive Dunn was a regular on Bootsie and Snudge. It was in 1968 that he was cast as doddering, seventy year old Lance Corporal Jones on Dad's Army. He was also a regular on Orlando. He appeared on such shows as First Night, Room at the Bottom, HMS Paradise, No Hiding Place, and The Avengers. He appeared in the films What a Whopper (1961), She'll Have to Go (1962), The Fast Lady (1962) , The Mouse on the Moon (1963), You Must Be Joking! (1965), The Mini-Mob (1967), Just Like a Woman (1967), 30 Is a Dangerous Age, Cynthia (1968), The Bliss of Mrs. Blossom (1968), Sophie's Place (1969), and The Magic Christian (1969).

In the Seventies Clive Dunn was a regular on the shows My Old Man and Granddad. He appeared on such shows as Full House, Sez Les, and Metal Mickey. He appeaerd in the films Dad's Army (1971), and The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu.

Clive Dunn was an extremely talented actor, particularly skilled at playing old men. He was actually one of the youngest members of the cast of Dad's Army (he was only 48 when he was cast as Lance Corporal Jones), but he played the oldest character on the show. He also played older characters on Bootsie and Snudge, My Old Man, and Granddad. Clive Dunn was also very gifted when it came to comedy. Jonesie was easily the funniest character on Dad's Army, turning the phrases "Don't panic!" and "They don’t like it up ’em!" into national catchphrases. When it came to actors in situation comedies, Clive Dunn was one of the best.

An Ann Miller Halloween

Ann Miller was not simply one of Hollywood's great musical actresses during its Golden Age. Beautiful and gifted with an incredible figure (including perhaps the best legs in motion pictures besides Cyd Chairsse), she was also a wildly popular pin up during World War II. Several pin up pictures were taken of Miss Miller over the years, including pictures that seemed to cover every American holiday. Indeed, over the years a number of Halloween themed photos were taken of the legendary singer and dancer.

As a special treat this Halloween, then, I offer you several Halloween pin ups of the beautiful Ann Miller.

Happy Halloween!

The Seventh Victim: Val Lewton's Diabolic Horror

It was in the Forties that legendary producer Val Lewton was named the head of a unit at RKO charged with making low budget horror movies. These films would not only prove to be enormously successful at the box office, but most of them are regarded highly today. The horror movies of Val Lewton relied on the power of suggestion and atmosphere to create a sense of terror, in stark opposition to most horror movies of the time, which relied on more sensationalistic means to create frights. While Val Lewton would quite rightfully become famous for the use of suggestion in his horror movies, what is sometimes overlooked is that he often dealt with subject matter that had been left uncovered by other horror movie makers.

One need only look at Val Lewton's filmography to find films whose subject matter might be cliché now, but were quite novel in the Forties.  I Walked with a Zombie (1943) dealt with the then little explored subjects of voodoo and zombies. Bedlam (1946) dealt with the horrors of an 18th Century insane asylum. The Ghost Ship (1943) dealt with the time honoured trope of ghosts, but placed them aboard a ship. Of Val Lewton's films, The Seventh Victim (1943) numbers among the most original. While Satanists would become a horror movie cliché since the release of Rosemary's Baby (1968), they were virtually unknown in movies prior to the release of that film. Before The Seventh Victim, there were very few films that had dealt with devil worship (the most famous perhaps being Universal's 1934 film The Black Cat).  After The Seventh Victim, but before Rosemary's Baby, films dealing with Satanism tend to be equally few in number. With The Seventh Victim, then, Val Lewton once more explored a topic rarely covered by horror movies before.

Of course, The Seventh Victim would be historic in other ways beyond being among the first horror movies to deal with Satanism. Jacques Tourneur, who had directed Val Lewton's first three horror movies (Cat People, I Walked With a Zombie, and The Leopard Man), had been promoted at RKO, so Mr. Lewton could no longer call upon his services. Val Lewton then appointed Mark Robson, who had served as the editor on his first three horror movies, as the director of The Seventh Victim. The Seventh Victim then marked Mark Robson's directorial debut. The Seventh Victim would also mark the film debut of actress Kim Hunter, who played the lead role in the film.

The Seventh Victim centred on Mary Gibson (played by Kim Hunter), who is searching for her lost sister Jacqueline Greenwich Village in New York City. It isn't long before Mary learns that her sister was involved with a cult of devil worshippers called Palladists. Not only is The Seventh Victim one of the first horror movies to deal with Satanists, then, but it is also one of the first to place them in a present day, urban setting (over twenty years before Rosemary's Baby).  Like all of Val Lewton's horror movies made at RKO, The Seventh Victim grew out of a title given to him by the studio. Val Lewton's initial idea for the film was that of orphan trying to stop a murderer before she becomes his seventh victim; however, Mr. Lewton had a change of heart and instead went with the idea of an orphan trying to save her sister from a group of Satanists. Amazingly enough, Val Lewton asked the screenplay's writer, DeWitt Bodeen, to see if they could possibly get him into a meeting of a devil worshipping society.  Even more amazingly, Mr. Bodeen found such a group located in New York City's West Side. The particular group of Satanists that Mr. Bodeen had discovered were mostly old people, reciting spells against Hitler as they crocheted and knitted. It was from this meeting that DeWitt Bodeen developed the idea of the Palladists in The Seventh Victim as ordinary people who had for whatever reason turned evil.

Here it should be pointed out that the term "Palladist" was not merely a euphemism used because it was feared the term "Satanist" might be too offensive (although in 1943 it might well have been). The term "Palladist" has its origins in rumours regarding Freemasonry in the 1890's. Léo Taxil, fuelled these rumours with a series of pamphlets in which he charged Masonic lodges with devil worship and being part of the Palladism cult. (the term Palladism coming from Pallas, a name of the Greek goddess Athena). Taxil's claims would be taken up by others. A. E. Waite (one of the two creators of the Rider-Waite Tarot card deck) claimed in Devil-Worship in France, or The Question of Lucifer, published in 1896, that a "Masonic diabolic order" known as "The Order of Palladium" was  founded in Paris on 20 May 1737. He also claimed it was broken up by law enforcement authorities after only a few years. In calling the devil worshippers in The Seventh Victim "Palladists," then, Messrs. Lewton and Bodeen were tying the movie to older urban legends of an alleged Satanist society.

 Regardless of whether the devil worshippers of The Seventh Victim were called "Palladists" or the more blatant "Satanists," the horror of The Seventh Victim is the fact that it is set in the everyday world of Greenwich Village and its villains would raise no eyebrows if one passed them on the street. Many horror movies of the Thirties and Forties were set in distant regions of Europe and often in the past at that, so that Americans watching the films could reassure themselves, "Well, that would never happen here." Set in 20th Century New York City, with Satanists who could be one's next door neighbours, The Seventh Victim offered no such reassurances.

Not only is The Seventh Victim set in present day New York City, but it turns that place into a rather terrifying, if familiar world. Indeed, the film has been counted as a film noir almost as often as it has a horror movie. Between Mark Robson's direction and Nicholas Musuraca's cinematography, the overall look of The Seventh Victim is dark, full of shadowy corners and recesses. The attitudes of the film are equally dark. Not only does an air of paranoia pervade The Seventh Victim, but it is a movie in which despair, death, and suicide are part of everyday life. This is not the stereotypical Greenwich Village in which poets, artists, and beatniks dwell. This is a Greenwich Village filled with devil worshippers and hopelessness, one where a cafe can be called "Dante's" without it seeming the least bit odd.

While I consider The Seventh Victim to be one of Val Lewton's best films and one that is very effective as a horror movie even today, the film does have its flaws. The beginning of the film moves much too swiftly and at times there are far too many characters for the viewer to easily keep track. The Seventh Victim also seems disjointed at times, to the point where the plot does not always make sense. Supposedly some scenes that would have made things much clearer were cut from the film before it was released. In Fearing the Dark: The Val Lewton Career, Edmund G. Bansak and Robert Wise theorise that the script for The Seventh Victim was written as if it was intended to be an "A" picture. Scenes were then shot and the film edited down to a more appropriate running time for a "B" movie.

Regardless, the few shortcomings of The Seventh Victim have not prevented it from being highly regarded in certain circles, nor has it prevented it from becoming a somewhat influential film. There is a possibly apocryphal story of British filmmakers David Lean, Michael Powell, and Carol Reed watching prints of The Seventh Victim that had been shipped by convoy to war torn Britain, and even bicycling the prints to special screenings around London. There is perhaps no way of knowing if the story is true or not, but given the later careers of the three men it could well be believable. One can see possible echoes of The Seventh Victim in such films as The Third Man (1949) and Peeping Tom (1960). Even if the story is not true, it would seem that The Seventh Victim would qualify as an early film noir and perhaps had an impact on the genre. Both its plot and its atmosphere resembles such later noirs as Murder My Sweet (1944) and The Spiral Staircase (1946).

In the end The Seventh Victim should be considered one of the most important works in Val Lewton's oeuvre. It mark a most auspicious debut for Mark Robson as a director. It also presaged horror movies dealing with the occult and devil worship over twenty years before they would become so commonplace as to be cliché.  And while The Seventh Victim is undoubtedly a horror film, its style marks it as an early film noir, a genre that would become much more common in the years following World War II. Above all else, while the film does have its flaws, The Seventh Victim is not only one of Val Lewton's most effective horror movies, but also one of the most effective horror films of the Forties.

Classic Horror Movie Trailers

Although it might seem remarkable today, there was a time when making a trailer for a horror movie was a fine art. There were even times when the trailer for a particular horror movie might be better than the movie it was advertising. From the Fifties into the Seventies it was not unusual for a few directors to not only direct the film, but also to conceive and direct the trailer as well. Particularly for the B-movies of the time, trailers for horror films could be quite funny and often over the top.

Among the masters of horror movie trailers was director and producer William Castle. This should come as no surprise as William Castle was a master at promoting his movies as it was. He was well known for the various gimmicks he used to promote his films, from "Emergo" of House on Haunted Hill to the "Percepto" of The Tingler.  This talent for promotion extended to his trailers, which William Castle often introduced himself much in the same way that Alfred Hitchock introduced episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

Here is the classic trailer to William Castle's House on Haunted Hill.



Hyperbole played a large role in horror movie trailers, as did a sense of humour. Both can be seen in the movie X--The Man With the  X-Ray Eyes. The trailer boasts that it features Ray Milland in "his most challenging role since his Academy Award winning Lost Weekend." The film also tends to focus on some of the most unsavoury parts of the film (that is, sex and gambling). As far as actually giving the viewer an accurate portrait of X--The Man With the X-Ray Eyes, in some respects the trailer is rather poor. It is actually a rather well done, disturbing film.





Horror film trailers were still very much an art in the Seventies, as is shown by the trailer for Wes Craven's controversial film Last House on the Left (1972). Other than giving the viewer the idea that it is a horror movie, the trailer ultimately tells us very little about Last House on the Left. Instead, it emphasises how shocking the film will be, along with one of the best taglines for any movie ever, "...It's only a movie."




It must be pointed out that making trailers for horror movies was not a particularly American art. The British were capable of making great horror movie trailers as well. Indeed, much of the success of Hammer Films' The Curse of Frankenstein may have been due to its trailer. This trailer combines shocks, sex, and violence all in a little over two minutes.




Indeed, perhaps the greatest horror movie ever made was by a director of English descent. At nearly seen minutes in length, Alfred Hitchock's teaser trailer for Psycho (1960). The trailer is absolutely brilliant, with Hitchcock giving a tour of the places in the film (such as the Bates' house) and nearly giving away particulars of the film before catching himself. Of course, it is the trailer's end that makes the trailer.




I would say the Golden Age for horror movie trailers lasted from the Fifties to the Eighties, although there have been a few great trailers released since then. So far I have only listed trailers for classic films, but a few clunkers have had great trailers as well. A perfect example of this is the trailer to The Blair Witch Project. It tells us little about the movie and is very effective in building anticipation for the film. While the trailer was quite effective, however, The Blair Witch Project was itself a huge disappointment. In fact, I would actually class it as one of the worst movies of all time. I  honestly believe that the promotion for the film (including various critics raving over the film) could be counted as one of the greatest con jobs of the 20th Century. It is definitely a case of the trailer being far better than the film.



Sadly, the trailer to The Blair Witch Project has been the exception to horror movie trailers in the past thirty years. Today there is little to differentiate the standard horror movie trailer from movie trailers of other genres. Gone are the hyperbole, the frantic narration, the great taglines, and the kinetic typography. Many of the trailers of horror movies made from the Fifties to the Seventies were truly great, even when the movies might not have been.

Five Halloween Songs That Are Better Than "Thriller"

This time of year one is likely to hear two songs played over and over. One is "Monster Mash" by Bobby "Boris" Pickett & The Crypt Kickers. Not only is the song a classic, but it truly fits Halloween. With humorous lyrics that reference the Universal Monsters and creepy sound effects, it has become perhaps the song most identified with the holiday. Sadly, the other song played often this time of year is "Thriler" by Michael Jackson. The only truly creepy part of the song is the spoken part by legendary horror actor Vincent Price. Other than that it is a rather typical dance song by Michael Jackson, hardly suitable for Halloween listening. If you are looking for songs that are better than "Thriler (of which there are no shortage)," here are five songs that are both better and more suited to the holiday.

Here I must say, these songs are not presented in any particular order, as they are all truly great songs.

5. "Joan Crawford" by Blue Öyster Cult:

What could be more terrifying than a major film star risen from the grave to take vengeance on the child who wrote a less than flattering book about her? Especially who starred in her share of horror movies (albeit later in her career)? The song "Joan Crawford" was inspired by the book Mommie Dearest by Christina Crawford, not the movie. Indeed, it appeared on Blue Öyster Cult's album Fire of Unknown Origin, which was released in July 1981, a full two months before the movie. Of course, in the song I always wondered if after her daughter Cristina, Joan didn't go after her old rival Bette Davis, who was still alive at the time...




4. "Dead Man's Party" by Oingo Boingo 

I suppose "Dead Man's Party" could be considered a novelty song much like "Monster Mash," only rather than monsters holding a party it is the dead. It would   then seem to be a fitting song for the holdiay.




3. "Witchcraft" by Frank Sinatra 

Actually a love song rather than a scary song, given its subject "Witchcraft" fits the holiday quite well.



2. "The Black Widow" by Alice Cooper

If you want a song featuring the talents of Vincent Price, then this is it. In the intro to the song Mr. Price plays a museum curator who is every bit as crazed as his characters in his films. As to the song itself, "The Black Widow" deals with a real life terror, the extremely venomous spider known for the fact that the females eat their mates. This particular clip is from the television special Alice Cooper: The Nightmare, which featured music from the album.



1. "(Don't Fear) the Reaper" by Blue  Öyster Cult:

It might not seem fair to have more than one song from Blue Öyster Cult on this list, but in truth one could probably compile a rather long list of songs by the band suitable for Halloween (including "Godzilla" and "Nosferatu"). "(Don't Fear) the Reaper" is probably their best known song and probably already a Halloween standard for many.

Here I must address the misconception that he song is about suicide, a misconception that probably arose due to the reference to Romeo and Juliet in the lyrics. The song's writer, Buck Dharma (Donald Roeser) has said that the song is actually about love transcending physical existence. Indeed, if one listens closely to the lyrics it does not sound at all like it is describing suicide, but instead someone coming back from the dead for his lover. The song then owes more to Edgar Allan Poe's poem "Lenore" than William Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet.

The Gimmicks of William Castle

I think it is safe to say that most film buffs would prefer that movies have success at the box office because they are actually well done, with great scripts, great casts, and great direction. Sadly, that is not always the case. In many instances movies are hits simply because of great marketing. A great marketing campaign can turn even the worst turkey into a bona fide, box office smash. There was perhaps no one better at marketing motion pictures than horror producer, director, and screenwriter William Castle. In fact, Mr. Castle is probably as well known for the various gimmicks he used to promote his films as he is for his films themselves. And Mr. Castle's gimmicks were surprisingly effective, turning his low budget features into modest box office hits. Fortunately, most of William Castle's movies also happened to be quite good.

"The King of Showmanship" literally worked his way up in the entertainment industry. He started working on Broadway while a teenager, where he did everything from acting to designing sets. He was only 18 when he directed his first stage production, the stage version of the classic Dracula. Eventually William Castle left New York City for Hollywood. He was 23 when he made his film debut as an actor, in an uncredited role as a reporter in When Love Is Young (1937). He received his first writing credit in 1942 for the story North to the Klondike. It was in 1943 that he directed his short, "Black Marketing." From the Forties into the Fifties William Castle directed several B-movies, including three different films in "The Whistler" series (including the first one) and three different ones in "The Crime Doctor" series. He broke into production with The Lady From Shanghai (1947), on which he was an associate producer as well as a second unit director.  He produced the TV show Meet McGraw and produced and directed episodes of the TV show Men of Annapolis before he became an independent director and producer.

It was the success of French chiller Diabolique (1955) in the United States that inspired William Castle to produce his own low budget horror movie. William Castle bought the rights to 1951 novel The Marble Forest. Although credited to the pen name Theo Durant, The Marble Forest was actually the creation of several members of a California branch of the Mystery Writers of America, each of who wrote a chapter. It was editor William White (perhaps better known by his pen name, Anthony Boucher) who saw that the book's tone remained consistent from chapter to chapter and made sure continuity was maintained from chapter to chapter. To pay for the film's production costs William Castle and his wife Ellen mortgaged their home.

To promote Macabre (as the adaptation of The Marble Forest was titled) William Castle came up with the first of his many gimmicks. As stated in the film's original trailer, the life of every member of the audiences of Macabre would be insured for $1000 by Lloyd's of London should they die of fright watching the movie. William Castle went the additional step of having nurses present at certain showings of Macabre just in case the unthinkable should happen. Perhaps the most flamboyant part of the promotion of Macabre occurred at a Minneapolis theatre where William Castle had himself sealed inside a coffin. Unfortunately, Mr. Castle would remain locked in the coffin while the theatre ran Macabre. In the end William Castle's gimmicky promotion of Macabre would pay off quite well. With a budget of only around $90,000, the film grossed $5,000,000 in its initial release. Allied Artist promptly struck a deal for another movie from William Castle, as well as another gimmick.

William Castle's next film would also be one of his best known, House on Haunted Hill (1959). While Macabre was based on a novel, House on Haunted Hill was an original screenplay by William Castle's fellow producer Rob White, in which an eccentric millionaire (Frederick Loren played by Vincent Price) invites five people to spend the night in a haunted house with him and his fourth wife Annabelle (Carol Ohmart). House on Haunted Hill would have one of William Castle's more interesting gimmicks, a process called "Emergo." Essentially, Emergo was nothing more or nothing less than a pulley system installed in theatres that would allow a plastic skeleton to fly over the heads of the audience at the proper moment.

As one of William Castle's better movies House on Haunted Hill probably did not need a gimmick, but Emergo certainly didn't hurt. House on Haunted Hill performed even better at the box office than Macabre had. Arguably, it was the film that established William Castle not only as an independent producer, but as a showman extraordinaire.

William Castle's next film would also be one of his best known, and also one of his most original. The Tingler (1959) centred on the titular parasite present in all human beings that feeds on fear and can even shatter the spinal column. It can only be stopped by screaming. The Tingler would star Vincent Price, in his second and last William Castle movie, as the coroner and scientist Dr. Warren Chapin who discovered the Tingler.

In keeping with the characteristics of the film's monster, The Tingler had one of William Castle's more famous gimmicks. A bit of World War II surplus, small motors that had been attached to the wings of aircraft, were attached to the underside of various seats in select theatres. At a point in the film when the Tingler had escaped into a cinema, the lights of the theatre would go dark as Vincent Price in the role of Dr. Chapin warned the audience (both in the movie and in the theatre), "Ladies and gentlemen, please do not panic. But scream! Scream for your lives! The Tingler is loose in this theatre!" At that point the motors under the seats would be activated, their vibrations simulating the effects of the Tingler. William Castle termed this process "Percepto." While the nature of Percepto was not revealed in the film's advertising or trailers, it was highly touted nonetheless. In promoting The Tingler William Castle did not stop with Percepto. At select theatres he also planted individuals in the audience who would scream and faint at the proper time. The individual who had "fainted" would then leave the theatre by ambulance.

Even without the gimmicks and even given it is one of William Castle's best films, The Tingler would be remembered as it made film history.  It would depict the first portayal of LSD use in a major motion picture. All in the name of science (Dr. Chapin was, after all, researching the existence of the Tingler), at one point Vincent Price's character drops acid.

The gimmick in William Castle's next film, 13 Ghosts (1960), would not be nearly as spectacular as that of The Tingler. The film dealt with a haunted house, hence the ghosts of the title. This leant itself to the film's gimmick, Illusion-O. 13 Ghosts was a black and white film, although the ghosts had been tinted a pale blue. Audience members were then given a special viewer with a red filter and blue filter (similar to 3-D glasses of the time, although the movie was not shot in 3-D). Through the red filter viewers could see the ghosts. If they thought the ghosts were too terrifying, then they could look through the blue filter and they would disappear. Here it must be pointed out that the ghosts could be seen without the special viewer, as repeated showings on television have proven over the years!

William Castle's next film, Homicidal (1961), would start with a rather simple gimmick that would become more complex after the movie's initial showings. At the climax of the film there would be a "Fright Break." At that point the movie would pause for 45 seconds, a clock would be superimposed on the screen, and the sound of a heartbeat would fill the cinema. William Castle's voice then told audience members that those too frightened to watch the rest of the movie could then leave and receive a full refund. Unfortunately for William Castle, the idea of the Fright Break very nearly back fired.

It was at one of the first showings of Homicidal, one in Youngstown, Ohio, that Mr. Castle noticed an inordinately large number of theatre patrons were leaving during the Fright Break and asking for a refund. In all 1% of the film's viewers were leaving during the Fright Break. To solve this problem, William Castle developed the idea of "Coward's Corner." Those who wanted to leave during the Fright Break had to follow a series of yellow foot prints on the floor of the auditorium to the box office. Over the box office hanged a sign which read "Coward's Corner." What is more, the box office or "Coward's Corner" would be bathed in a yellow light and there a recording repeated over and over, ""These cowards are too frightened to see the end of Homicidal. Watch them shiver in the Coward's Corner. Coward...coward....coward." At Coward's Corner there would be a nurse who would take the audience member's blood pressure. Since audience members would have to undergo the humiliation of being branded a coward to receive a refund, the number of people leaving during the Fright Break dropped to less than 1%.

William Castle's next film, Mr. Sardonicus (1961), would again be based on a literary work. The story "Sardonicus" by Ray Russell appeared in the January 1961 issue of Playboy. The story centred on a European baron whose face was frozen in a perpetual grin (a condition called "Risus sarconicus," previously explored in the Victor Hugo book The Man Who Laughs, its various film versions, and The Joker in "Batman" comic books). Studio bosses at Columbia were apparently unhappy that Mr. Sadonicus had a decidedly dark ending, which led to William Castle's gimmick for the film: the Punishment Poll. Audience members were given  a glow in the dark card with a fist with the thumb extended on it. At a certain point in the film viewers were asked whether Sardonicus (Guy Rolfe) should be shown mercy (in which case audience members would display their cards with the thumb up) or should receive punishment (in which case audience member would display their cards with the thumb down).

William Castle always insisted that an alternate ending to Mr. Sardonicus, one in which Baron Sardonicus has a happy ending, was filmed. Despite this, it seems unlikely that any other ending than the one in which the baron gets his just desserts ever existed. At the very least none have materialised. Of course, whether an alternate ending to Mr. Sardonicus was filmed is perhaps a moot point. No audience ever voted that Sardonicus should be shown mercy.

William Castle's next film, Zotz!, would be a sharp departure from his previous productions. Zotz! was a fantasy comedy based on the novel of the same name by  Walter Karig. The film centred on a magic coin. Because of this, William Castle had thousands of plastic replica of the Zotz! coin manufactured and distributed to theatres, to be given out both before and during the movie's run. Billboards were also erected in the weeks prior to the film's debut, with only the word "Zotz!" emblazoned on them.

William Castle's next film, 13 Frightened Girls (1963), would lack any real gimmick.  The promotion of the film made a great deal out of William Castle's search for actresses to play the thirteen girls of the title. William Castle's next film, the 1963 remake of The Old Dark House (1932), also featured no gimmicks. Sadly, the era of William Castle's gimmicks, which perhaps reached their peak with House on Haunted Hill, The Tingler, and Homicidal, was coming to an end. Sadly, both films would not perform as well as William Castle's previous films, leading some critics to believe that he could not have a hit without a gimmick.

Fortunately, William Castle's next film would be a bit more successful. For Strait-Jacket (1964) Mr. Castle was able to cast a screen legend in the film, none other than Joan Crawford. Initially William Castle had wanted Grayson Hall in the lead role in the film, but she wanted to return to the theatre instead. Joan Blondell was then cast in the lead role, but in the end she was prevented from taking the part (stories vary as to why). In the end the role went to Joan Crawford. Because William Castle thought the script was particularly strong Strait-Jacket was intended to have no gimmicks. This having been said, cardboard axes were reportedly given to audience members at certain theatres.

William Castle's next film, The Night Walker (1964), also starred two big name stars: Robert Taylor and Barbara Stanwyck (in her last role for the big screen). It also lacked any sort of gimmick. It would be I Saw What You Did (1965) that would feature William Castle's last big gimmick. I Saw What You Did dealt with teeangers making prank calls (which naturally goes wrong), so William Castle had intended to promote the film with a special phone number that people could call. Unfortunately, the phone company blamed I Saw What You Did for an increase in prank calls leading up to the film's release, so the phone company quickly turned on William Castle. Mr. Castle then came up with another gimmick for the film. Seats in rows of select theatres were outfitted with seatbelts, which would prevent viewers from being "scared out of their seats." The film also featured Joan Crawford. Although top billed, she actually only appeared in the film briefly.

I Saw What You Did featured the last of William Castle's great gimmicks. His next several films, whether directed by him (Let's Kill Uncle, The Busy Body, Shanks, et. al.) or produced by him (Rosemary's Baby, The Riot) included no gimmicks. It was only with the last film produced by William Castle, Bug (1975), that he would return to gimmicks. That having been said, the gimmick of Bug paled in comparison to those of The Tingler or Homicidal--William Castle simply advertised that the film's giant cockroach was insured for $1 million.

William Castle's gimmicks were certainly effective, boosting the box office of B-movies that might have otherwise been ignored by film goers. Indeed, they turned watching a movie into a event, at which a skeleton might fly over one's head or one might feel one's seat vibrating. If there was downside to William Castle's gimmicks, it is that it could be argued that they detracted from the movies themselves. Even today more attention is often paid to Mr. Castle's gimmicks than are to his films.

Indeed, while I have little doubt that gimmicks were much of the fun of watching one of William Castle's movies, the truth is that many of his movies did not need gimmicks at all. His very best films (House on Haunted Hill, The Tingler, Strait-Jacket) boasted good scripts and good casts, with a nice balance of frights and high camp. Today they remain very entertaining films and many of them can quite rightfully be called classics.  William Castle may have earned the title "King of Showmen" because of his gimmicks, but he will be remembered for a series of well done horror B-movies.