SPIDER BABY (1964)

 

(a.k.a. SPIDER BABY, OR THE MADDEST STORY EVER TOLD; ATTACK OF THE LIVER EATERS; THE LIVER EATERS; director/screenwriter/uncredited editor: Jack Hill)

 

Review

Bracketed by an introduction and outro by nice-guy Peter Howe (Quinn K. Redeker), “distant cousin” to the Merrye clan, this black-and-white, G-rated (more PG-13) film tells—via an extended ten-years-prior flashback—the story of the last generation of the Merrye family, who suffer from a rare mentally and physically degenerative disease (the Merrye Syndrome), an inherited madness that progressively reduces them to savages as they age. These thrilled-to-kill siblings (Ralph, Elizabeth, and Virginia), in their early twenties to early thirties, are watched by over by their tired old chauffeur, Bruno (Lon Chaney Jr.) who promised their dead father (Titus) he’d look after them. Exacerbating Bruno’s efforts to shield them from the world, despite an impending highway near their house, are the siblings’ increasing curious about the outside world.

Bruno’s situation is made more difficult when distant “cousins” (ruthless, money-hungry Emily Howe and nice-guy brother Peter) come to the rundown Merrye residence to become legal guardians of Virginia, Elizabeth, and Ralph, relatives they’ve never met. Accompanying them are their pushy, cigar-chomping lawyer, Schlocker (Karl Schanzer, DEMENTIA 13, 1963), and his kind, twenty-something secretary, Ann Morris (Mary Mitchel, DEMENTIA 13, 1963), later mother to Jessica Howe.

Shlocker and Emily insist on spending the night at Chez Merrye, over Bruno’s polite objections. From there on, it’s fast, onscreen-bloodless slide into disaster for all involved. Dinner—a cooked cat (for the guests), insects, “Soufflé Fungi” and other questionable options—goes badly, and as the night progresses, it becomes deadly for some of the visitors after Schlocker kills one of Virginia’s beloved tarantulas (offscreen), and later, sneaks around the house.

SPIDER, made in 1964 but not released until 1967, is an influential, genre mash-up masterwork on many levels. It’s a rare dark-comedy horror flick where the filmmakers and actors embraced its key elements (terror, madness and humor) with equal, effective fervor—there’s plenty of secret passages, a dangerous basement, spookiness and chiaroscuro, over-the-top acting and sly dialogue (e.g., when Bruno says “There’s going to be a full moon tonight,” a reference to Chaney’s THE WOLF MAN, 1941). SPIDER is further buoyed by its consistently playful tone and offscreen, hinted-at darkness (murder, cannibalism, rape). This is a suspenseful, tightly written and edited movie, with twists and turns and a fun, sequel-friendly finish.

The entire cast and crew shine as well. Lon Chaney, billed as Lon Chaney Jr. and true to form, evinces empathy, sadness, and resignation as Bruno. Jill Banner is entertaining as Virginia Merrye, who “play[s] Spider” with her “prey.” Beverly Washburne is also fun as Elizabeth Merrye, the told-you-so sibling of the bunch. Sid Haig (HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES, 2003) is great as their shy, murderous, Peeping Tom older brother, Ralph, who creeps around and has an erotic yen for Emily Howe.

Other non-Merrye clan members include: Carol Ohmart (HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL, 1959) as the immodest-but-always-dressed, aggressive Emily Howe; and Mantan Moreland (KING OF THE ZOMBIES, 1941) as the wide-eyed, comically scared “Messenger” at the film’s start—by today’s standards his role will likely seem racist, but given his popularity in the 1940s, it was more filmic character trope than conscious racism.

SPIDER’s excellent behind-the-scenes crew includes: director of photographer Alfred Taylor (KILLER KLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE, 1988); art director Ray Storey, billed as Ray Story (THE TIME TRAVELERS, 1964); and composer Ronald Stein (NOT OF THIS EARTH, 1957), whose spooky-yet-mood-varied cues add to SPIDER’s effective feel.

This is one of my all-time favorite horror comedies, an entertaining balance of humor, terror and quirky characterization, and a great example of both showing and implying its terrors, more implied than shown. Fans of Rob Zombie and THE ADDAMS FAMILY (1964-66) may especially appreciate its charms.