

Newsflash: thesubstream.com proudly presents: Genre Jam: text edition, a weekly supplemental written piece about a particular "genre" film singled out by one of us as being something special, something worth tracking down. The films we'll discuss might be historically significant in some way, they might feature the work of under-appreciated filmmaking pioneers, or they might even have some sort of connection to us on a personal level that we just need to share with the rest of the world. We want to share our love of genre cinema with you, and we hope you enjoy reading about what we've got to say. And feel free to contact us with any of your genre favourites that you'd like to see us cover!
And now, Rajo kicks things off with Carnival of Souls...
TV joke montages, funny MTV bumpers and random 'old movie stock footage' shown on late night tv shows often contain quick clips of weird old movies - weird snippets with odd snatches of dialogue or a cowboy shooting his pistol at somebody off-screen. Much like the obscure audio samples that find their way into popular hip hop tracks, these little clips are taken out of context and are most likely from some bizzaro, public domain black & white movie you've never heard of (usually of the 'B' variety).
The clips that stand out, for whatever reason, might very well drive you absolutely crazy; fleeting images and sounds rolling around in your brain for years and years, eye-worms forcing you to guess at what the larger plot might be and the true nature of the characters involved.
Until, of course, that fateful day when blind luck sees you stumble upon a bargain-binned VHS copy of some B-movie from the 50's and realize that the fat, bald, Swedish wrestler-looking dude with the scars on the cover is the very same spooky character you saw in that 2 second clip on the Tonight Show that one time - that 2 second clip which has haunted your dreams - and nightmares - ever since.
If you're anything like me, in this situation you bring your VCR out of retirement and buy that tape in the hopes of finally gnosising the context you've been missing out on for so long. Maybe, just maybe, you can exorcise those demons from your mind just by sitting through 90 minutes of a maybe-bad old movie you know nothing about. That's the theoretical bargain, at least, and for years I've been trying to work my way through the fractured catalog of weird film clips in my brain, desperately seeking out the source material for each. I'm a fan - or victim - of weird film clips, and this is what we do.
The latest weirdo film clip I've finally made my peace with originally came my way, funny enough, as an audio sample. I'm a fan of the electronic group Orbital, and back in 1999 they released an album that contained a track called "Spare Parts Express," a tonal roller-coaster ride that at various times sounds like it should be the score for either Tron or Dracula:
Again, that name is "Herk Harvey".
Carnival of Souls is a bizarreish cult film that explores the concept of "the soul", and instead of monsters and gore, the scares in the film rely on creepy organ music ambiance. It stars Candace Hilligoss as Mary, a gifted church organist and sole survivor of a horrible car accident. In the period afterwards, she becomes more and more detached from reality and eventually, she becomes subject to strange spells during which no-one can see or hear her.
She's inexplicably drawn to the abandoned carnival grounds on the outskirts of town and she has visions of the 'The Man,' a strange Joker-looking guy who lurks there (played by Harvey with spooky white face-paint). She glides through the film creeping out everybody that she encounters; she's constantly being labeled antisocial, cold and unfeeling. Distracted, even. She seems to be missing a certain spark - a spark she presumably had prior to the accident.
At one point, she is told that "there is more than intellect to being a musician. Put your soul into it, Ok?" She really, really is a strange, cold, stiff character, possibly 'soul-less' and obviously troubled by strange forces she doesn't quite understand. And, though very beautiful, she even looks creepy - think Shelley Duval as a Hitchcock blonde.
Hilligoss' spine-tingling characterization of Mary is the real strength of Carnival of Souls, a moody, sparsely plotted film that merited inclusion in the Criterion Collection. It's also not very good.
It's cheaply made and looks it, and despite any good intentions on behalf of Harvey to make something a little more... cerebral and philosophical, it comes accross as hokey and forgettable thanks to the wooden performances of the many civilian performers he had cast.
That said, there are a few moments of genius that do shine through. Namely, an inspired sequence during which Mary, practicing alone in the church, becomes more and more entranced as the innocent church organ music she's playing slowly and deliberately morphs into increasingly demonic carnival music. The look on her face as she stares at her hands during this entire sequence is capable of scarring you forever: creepy organ music + Candace Hilligoss' bulging eyes = nightmares.
As she drifts out of reality and further into the horrible fantasy of the carnival and The Man, the music builds and builds, becoming more wild and out of control. And the best part: at the height of this weirdly affecting sequence, the minister grabs her hands yelling, 'Blasphemy! Sacrilege! Have you no respect? Have you no reverence? Then, I feel sorry for you, and your lack of SOUL!" An amazing scene, to be sure.
Overall, I can't really say I recommend Carnival of Souls, but I don't regret seeing it for myself. The church organ scene and Hilligoss' performance (and eventual on-screen delivery of 'Why can't anybody hear meeeee?') made for some great afternoon viewing. And, having solved the mystery of the mysterious audio sample, I can relax that much more, now that I'm free of the nagging need to know. Another weirdo film clip crossed off the list.
*Watch Carnival of Souls right now! In its entirety!