Amanda Post (Susan Bracken) hasn't returned to her (rather palatial) family home in 13 years, as she witnessed her mother die there as a young child. However, she gets a call informing her that her grandmother is near death, and Mandy dutifully goes home again to care for her in her final days.
Upon arrival, she reunites with a host of her small town's odd cast of characters, who all pretty much have their agendas stamped on their foreheads, given the unsubtle writing.
First we've got Dr. Crawther (Jim Harrell), who is AWFULLY fond of pumping poor granny full of extra sedatives, Judge Stemple (Gene Ross) who is the executor of grandma's affairs( and clearly has an interest in real estate ~wink, wink...nudge, nudge~). To round out the bunch of potential cannon fodder, Claude Kearn (Larry O'Dwyer) the nebbishy curator of a museum devoted to the house and its history, attached at the hip to antique dolls, doilies and the like.
Shortly after arriving, Mandy is subject to a series of threatening and increasing perverse phone calls, from someone who has a severely unhealthy fixation with the women of the Post family and the estate.
The first 3/4 of the film is mostly wasted on secondary characters and their subplots, with bonus run time padding from various ineffectual visits from Amanda's doctor boyfriend, Nick(Hugh Feagan).
None of it is sketched deeply enough for you to care, and none of the actors here are talented enough to make something out of the utter nothing they're given. Scares and blood are few, and even the centerpiece phone calls are kind of goofy rather then menacing.
The only bright spot is Amanda remains a good step more feisty and plucky than heroines of the genre, and the additional agency makes you actually root for her in spite of all of the quality issues.
The tension and a nice touch of visual dime store surrealism finally starts building through the last 30 minutes, then drops with a thud into an abrupt and unsatisfying ending, lacking much narrative sense and leaving all of the early plot threads blowing in the breeze.
Why do the Judge and Claude hate each other so much? They're both covering the other's dirty deeds, so why no united front?
What did the doctor get out of drugging the grandmother senseless if the judge gets the house?
How long has Claude been talking to a dummy of Mandy's mum and dressing in drag on the weekends? The dolls and his brief drag turn were a few of the better unsettling visuals/plot points, and both are barely utilized.
Why is Nick so utterly bloody useless? The world may never know.
All in all, a watchable little film with a few treasures amongst its trash pile, but far less interesting than it could have been. The best I can say for it is that it was an early adopter of elements that would later be far better utilized in genre classics like "Black Christmas" or "Don't Answer The Phone"
Upon arrival, she reunites with a host of her small town's odd cast of characters, who all pretty much have their agendas stamped on their foreheads, given the unsubtle writing.
First we've got Dr. Crawther (Jim Harrell), who is AWFULLY fond of pumping poor granny full of extra sedatives, Judge Stemple (Gene Ross) who is the executor of grandma's affairs( and clearly has an interest in real estate ~wink, wink...nudge, nudge~). To round out the bunch of potential cannon fodder, Claude Kearn (Larry O'Dwyer) the nebbishy curator of a museum devoted to the house and its history, attached at the hip to antique dolls, doilies and the like.
Shortly after arriving, Mandy is subject to a series of threatening and increasing perverse phone calls, from someone who has a severely unhealthy fixation with the women of the Post family and the estate.
The first 3/4 of the film is mostly wasted on secondary characters and their subplots, with bonus run time padding from various ineffectual visits from Amanda's doctor boyfriend, Nick(Hugh Feagan).
None of it is sketched deeply enough for you to care, and none of the actors here are talented enough to make something out of the utter nothing they're given. Scares and blood are few, and even the centerpiece phone calls are kind of goofy rather then menacing.
The only bright spot is Amanda remains a good step more feisty and plucky than heroines of the genre, and the additional agency makes you actually root for her in spite of all of the quality issues.
The tension and a nice touch of visual dime store surrealism finally starts building through the last 30 minutes, then drops with a thud into an abrupt and unsatisfying ending, lacking much narrative sense and leaving all of the early plot threads blowing in the breeze.
Why do the Judge and Claude hate each other so much? They're both covering the other's dirty deeds, so why no united front?
What did the doctor get out of drugging the grandmother senseless if the judge gets the house?
How long has Claude been talking to a dummy of Mandy's mum and dressing in drag on the weekends? The dolls and his brief drag turn were a few of the better unsettling visuals/plot points, and both are barely utilized.
Why is Nick so utterly bloody useless? The world may never know.
All in all, a watchable little film with a few treasures amongst its trash pile, but far less interesting than it could have been. The best I can say for it is that it was an early adopter of elements that would later be far better utilized in genre classics like "Black Christmas" or "Don't Answer The Phone"