Incubus (Leslie Stevens, 1966)
Leslie Stevens' folk horror Incubus (1966) is far too much of a strange oddity to simply sum up in a few mere words. Once considered a lost film, this black and white tale pits good against evil with the fate of a pre-James T. Kirk, William Shatner's soul hanging in the balance. Elevating the film into bizarre territory is the dialogue being spoken is the artificial language of Esperanto. Stranger still, are the various misfortunes and fatal tragedies linked to this diabolical production. Incubus became a cursed film.
Borne from Stevens' decision to write and direct an independent film after his television series, the science-fiction anthology The Outer Limits (1963-1965), was cancelled. Daystar Productions, the studio responsible for the show, would aid in realising Incubus. Much of the film would be shot around California's Big Sur. The picturesque coastal region would contribute a great deal to the film's primal theme of good versus evil. Additionally, the setting was beneficial for an independent horror film with a low budget.
Set in the village known as Nomen Tuum, famed for a deer well able to heal and give beauty to those who drink its water, the region is a hub for the corrupted. The demonic succubus Kia (Leslie Stevens' wife, Allyson Ames) seduces these corrupted individuals; luring them to the sea, where she drowns them. The wretched souls sent to her God of Darkness. The beautiful succubus finds the task far too easy. She tell her demonic sister Amael (Eloise Hardt) that she yearns for a greater challenge; the corruption of a pure soul. Avoiding her older sister's warning to give up this endeavour as it's too dangerous, Kia begins searching for this potential victim.
Trekking (no pun intended) through the countryside, Kia spies upon three suspicious monks. Each of them exemplifying the corruption abound in Nomen Tuum. The first one holds a toad while creepily eating a hard boiled egg; the next buries a mysterious object in the soil; whilst the last monk mocks prayer to a holy crucifix, subsequently turning it over. It's after this strange scene where Kia spots her prey.
Whilst on a pilgrimage with his sister Arndis (Ann Atmar), the hobbling, war hero Marco (William Shatner) becomes Kia's objekto de deziro. The soldier drinks from the well and finds it tasting sweet. He is cured and able to walk again, longer requiring his stick. This is in stark contrast to Kia's previous victim who found the well's waters salty, foreshadowing his drowning under the succubus's foot. Kia follows the siblings to their home from afar. Once again, Amael interjects and warns Kia, but to no avail.
Kia introduces herself to Marc pretending to be a lost and weary labourer searching for a field. Marc instantly falls in love (the simp!) with the succubus. An eclipse occurs in the heavens above (symbolism, innit?). Arndis is blinded by the celestial event. She's also left alone, as Marc, like a lovesick puppy, escorts Kia to the fields she's meant to be working in.
Kia's brief time spent with Marc has put a damper on her objective. Her powers of seduction fail to work on the war hero. Marc turns down the offer of sex on the beach (and the consequential condemnation of his soul) with her. It leads to this choice bit of dialogue from the film:
A passionate kiss is enough for the succubus to faint and leave her out cold. Thus, Marc carries Kia to a nearby monastery where he thinks she'll be safe. Meanwhile, the blinded Arndis is guided to their location with the aid of Amael. The scene inside the monastery, where Kia is awoken by a ringing church bell and sent to absolute distress by being on consecrated ground, and being surrounded by all the religious objects inside the monastery, sends the demoness into a panic where she storms out crying.
When Amael catches up with her sobbing, demonic sister, she enquires what could have possibly happened to leave her this way:
The course of action leads to the titular incubus being summoned. In what's perhaps the best scene in the film, the two succubi pray to a demonic, winged creature that is standing over wooden, execution gallows. It's beautifully lit, with eerie smoke everywhere, and reminiscent of something you might spot in a German Expressionist film. The soil nearby is disturbed by the incubus (Miloš Milošević - credited as Milos Milos) rising out of the ground. It's from this point onwards the film goes in a surprisingly shocking direction.
Depending on various sources, the jury seems to be out whether the use of Esperanto was incorporated as a marketing gimmick by Leslie Stevens, or genuinely meant for international art house audiences. Fluent Esperantists who had watched Incubus (the second feature film to use the language) found the folk horror unintentionally laughable, as the actors were constantly mispronouncing the dialogue. It sounds like a mixture of Italian and Portuguese; two languages I don't know. I have no idea how laughably bad the actors were speaking any of the dialogue. Therefore, it's impossible to slate it like the Esperantists.
Incubus would fail to find distribution - with the exception of France. According to William Shatner's film commentary, "The French love this film, because they can’t understand it. And the
French speak, when they speak French, they’re very difficult to
understand each other." I'm not even sure if the Shat is making the slightest bit of sense with his rambling, or just having a go at the French, but we ought to be thankful to our Gallic, cineaste brethren as a rare surviving print of the film was discovered in the Nineties at the Cinémathèque Française in Paris. Incubus had been a lost film for decades until then.
Of course, Incubus's notoriety stems from its cursed film label. The Serbian actor and Alain Delon stand in Milos Milos was in a relationship with Mickey Rooney's estranged fifth wife, Carolyn Mitchell (AKA, Barbara Ann Thompson). On the 31st January 1966, Milos, fearful of his lover reconciling with her husband, would take Mickey's chrome-plated .38 calibre revolver and murder Carolyn right before taking his own life. Mere weeks before the Incubus premiere at the San Francisco Film Festival, Ann Arter would commit suicide. She was only twenty-seven years old. The film's failure that very same year would lead to Leslie Stevens and Allyson Ames' marriage falling apart, resulting in their divorce. The curse would strike again as the body of Eloise Hardt's seventeen year old daughter was found brutally murdered after her abduction on the 1st January 1969. Although linked to one of Charles Manson's crimes, her murder remains unsolved to this day. Coincidentally, a tenuous link to the film's curse involves Sharon Tate having attended the film's premier with her husband Roman Polanski. We don't need to go any further with that story.
In 1968, producer Anthony M. Taylor decided to give Incubus another go with finding US distribution; albeit releasing a risqué version of the film. According to Video Watchdog (#53), nude colour inserts were intended to be edited into the existing film. Not an uncommon trend at the time, but having one of its original actors returning, Robert Fortier as Kia's first victim, Olin, was certainly unusual. This new and nude footage would be filmed by none other than exploitation auteur (and Eminem lookalike) Ray Dennis Steckler. Too many contradictory sources to ascertain if this version actually exists, or not.
Incubus appears to be inspired by Ingmar Bergman's films. The coastal scenes alone give obvious The Seventh Seal (1957) vibes. Yet, despite the cast speaking in Esperanto, it still has the identifiable air of being an American production; a low budget one at that. Given its remarkably short running time, along with the various players being salvaged from The Outer Limits, Incubus does come across as some bizarre, melodramatic, American teleplay rather than a pretentious, European art house film. There's obvious padding with characters slowly walking from one location to the next, typical of many TV serials, but it's not so bothersome given the film's appealing visuals and unique atmosphere.
Conrad L. Hall's stunning black and white cinematography is irrevocably the film's greatest asset. Light and dark is contrasted in perfect opposition; symbolic of the good versus evil theme. Ironically, Hall abruptly left the film before it was finished, and was replaced with an uncredited William A. Fraker to complete the work. According to Shatner, Hall's departure was due to a series of misfortunes which befell him during the shoot; said to be by an enraged hippie putting a hex on the production after he being told to clear off by the film crew. Another reason to hate hippies.
Composer Dominic Frontiere reuses his music from The Outer Limits in Incubus. Angelic harps compliment Hall's stunning cinematography and add another level to the undefinable time period of the film. A further layer to the dreamlike atmosphere of Incubus.
To sum up Incubus, it's nowhere near the bad movie it's reputed to be. I consider it very good. It's certainly flawed, like the mispronounced Esperanto, and punches above its weight at times, but I wound up admiring it, and never found it in the least bit boring. With the exception of Roger Corman's The Intruder (1962), Incubus contains one of Shatner's best film performances, in my opinion. Various sources cite Incubus as being ahead of its time in terms of the occult and folk horror boom in 1968 with films like Rosemary's Baby and Witchfinder General. Although, I don't entirely agree since John Llewellyn Moxey's The City of the Dead (1960) and Mario Bava's Black Sunday (1960) immediately come to mind; preceding Stevens' film by several years. It is, however, a fascinating oddity from the past, one that appeals to me in a similar way to John Parker's Dementia (1955) one of my favourite film discoveries from last year. This instantly makes Incubus a major film highlight for me this month.
Well worth watching.
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