Nostalgic Cinema

Screams of a Winter Night (1979)

Screams of a Winter Night (USA, 1979) DIR: James L. Wilson. SCR: Richard H. Wadsack. PROD: James L. Wilson, Richard H. Wadsack. MUSIC: Don Zimmers. DOP: Robert E. Rogers. CAST: Matt Borel, Gil Glasgow, Patrick Byers, Mary Agen Cox, Robin Bradley, Ray Gaspard, Beverly Allen, Brandy Barrett, Charles Rucker, Jan Norton, Bill Ragsdale.


“Listen to the wind….”

Five college-aged couples go to a cabin for a weekend getaway, and in the dead of the wintry night, they tell each other tales of horror: a couple whose car runs out of gas in the middle of nowhere are stalked by a furry creature; people spend a night in an abandoned hotel as a fraternity initiation and meet their doom; a young woman goes on a killing spree after a lovers lane rendezvous goes bad. The “urban legend” stories that these kids tell, however, become superficial once they physically experience a legendary horror that the local yokels at the gas station warned them about…

This regional horror anthology, shot in a spooky backwoods of Louisiana, is fondly remembered by genre fans who saw it in its initial theatrical run, or back in the glory days of home video. (For years, it was never available on DVD or Blu-ray, which is why the old VHS from VCI Entertainment fetched a pretty penny on eBay. Probably still does.) One sees the appeal, as the film is unique for its old-fashioned reliance upon setting and atmosphere to deliver the scares. The mood is set immediately, as the opening credits roll over a black screen, while we hear sounds of carnage, screaming and indecipherable dialogue. This is a brilliant touch, as (like the days of radio) movie audiences are given to imagine sights possibly more horrific than what a two-dimensional piece of film could muster. Because this chatter is of audio bits taken from the climax, the film begins where it ended: these kids are on a destined path. (In another clever touch, the same actors playing the college students also portray the characters in the stories they tell, thus vicariously living the tales that are told.)

Their stories however don’t really have a third act- there is a lack of motive or resolution in any of them, save perhaps for the vengeful woman episode. That segment is prefaced with the observation that the human monster is the scariest of all. The other tales of terror are founded upon an unknown, offscreen evil. And finally, the wraparound tale of the horror that the students face is similarly rooted in the unknowable. In this ingenious climax, the standard “dark and stormy night” setting is itself the menace, as the elements revolt against the hapless teens. Nice touch! Seeing this at a drive-in around a similarly wooded area must’ve been quite effective.

In this regard, Screams of a Winter Night succeeds in what the overrated Blair Witch Project attempted: scaring us with the unseen, the unknowable, which exists just outside of frame, but within our minds. Rather than frighten us out of our wits with rubber monsters or mad slashers, the filmmakers cannily use those long moments of hesitation for the viewers to imagine their own monsters for what exists behind the door, or outside the cabin. The gnarled forest provides an ominous sense of isolation and helplessness.

This clever premise doesn’t completely work, as the acting and dialogue are pedestrian, and we don’t really care the characters. Because these ten people are unappealing, cackling, cruel sociopaths, it is difficult for us to be completely absorbed in their plight of being stranded in this creepy cabin while an evil presence lurks outside. Nonetheless, the final ten minutes make this amateur night worth seeking out, as all hell breaks loose, and the kids are besieged by the juggernaut of natural elements. On the surface, this is a unique movie that sustains a mood with making the surroundings as the monster, but with better writing and character development, this could have been great. (Look for future Fright Night star William Ragsdale as a gas station attendant.)

This is now available on Blu-ray through Kino Lorber, as part of the Code Red library. This version has a fourth anthology story added, which was excised from the film before release, thus bringing the film’s running time up to two hours. I’ll likely update this review once I preview that edition.


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