[Editorial] 50 Years Later: Let's Scare Jessica to Death (1971)
Let's Scare Jessica to Death is one of several American horror movies that focus on hippies gone haywire. In this case, the hippies are Jessica (Zohra Lampert), a sweet and gentle woman with a lingering sense of unease after her stint in a psychiatric hospital; Duncan (Barton Heyman), her increasingly disappointing husband; Woody (Kevin O'Connor), their loyal but clueless pal; and Emily (Mariclare Costello), a mysterious woman who just so happens to be squatting in the farmhouse Jessica, Duncan and Woody have moved into.
The cult classic was released in 1971, following the crash-and-burn death of the 1960s in America. The sexual evolution was underway, and times were changing, especially for young adults. Although feminism was blossoming in the 1970s, the world Jessica finds herself trapped in is teeming with misogyny. Mere moments into the film, Jessica, Duncan and Woody are taking their car (a hearse with the word LOVE spray-painted on it) to their farmhouse via ferry. When they're asked what's in the hearse, Duncan quips that it's his mother-in-law. A small mean joke, sure, but it certainly sets the anti-woman tone for the film.
For a movie that includes the heroine's name in its title, Let's Scare Jessica to Death is dominated by men. Not only is Jessica fairly deferential toward her husband, but with the exception of Jessica and Emily, the entire town is made up of men bearing suspicious scars, especially on their necks. There are no other women to be seen. And they're not just men – they're almost entirely leering men, who stare and ogle Jessica everytime she goes into town.
The farmhouse, however, still bears the psychic footprint of a previous female inhabitant: Abigail Bishop. As Jessica and Duncan learn during a visit into town, Abigail Bishop drowned in 1880, just before her wedding day. Her body was never found, and many inhabitants of the town believe she's a vampire who roams around the area – and who haunts the farmhouse. An old photo of Abigail and her parents staring sullenly ahead fascinates Jessica, who finds it in their attic.
As for the human (we think) women, Emily is introduced as Jessica's foil. Where Jessica is compassionate and demure, Emily is wild and unpredictable. Emily has what can only be described as Manson girl vibes, and this is not a compliment. The physical differences between the two women are also striking. Jessica has dark hair and dark eyes, and she frequently wears skirts; Emily has red hair and green eyes, and she wears pants. She's also clad in a bright red shirt for most of the film, stressing the dangerous vibes she holds.
Emily treats Jessica contemptuously at best and terrorizes her at worst. There are multiple scenes of her making eyes at Duncan (Jessica's thoughts are softly narrated over the scenes: "He likes her"), even washing him lasciviously in the lake, all the while monitoring Jessica to see her reaction. In a scene of massive foreshadowing, Emily and Duncan even begin duetting with their guitar and upright bass, respectively.
In one of the most horrifying scenes in Let's Scare Jessica to Death, Jessica and Emily sit by the lake together, even after Jessica tells Emily, "Water kind of frightens me." Emily had unsuccessfully tried in a previous scene to seduce Jessica, and she seems to try again here as she sensuously puts lotion on Jessica, easing down the straps of her bathing suit. Jessica is visibly uneasy, and it only gets worse.
Emily pushes Jessica into the water over and over. Frantic and terrified, Jessica asks to be left alone, but Emily won't let her be. Just as Jessica starts to calm down, Emily disappears and reappears… wearing Abigail Bishop's wedding dress. Unable to cope (and for good reason), Jessica runs back to the house and locks herself in her room, even barricading the door. No one comes to find her.
In a scene that brings to mind Charlotte Perkins Gilman's story The Yellow Wallpaper (an early example of feminist literature that surely influenced Let's Scare Jessica to Death), Jessica remains trapped in her room, scared and alone. Her thoughts grow darker and darker – "You want to die, why go on?" she asks herself. Jessica is a woman with very little of her own and no emotional support. And like the protagonist in The Yellow Wallpaper, Jessica is treated like she's losing her mind, even though she's actually seeing reality for what it is.
One might wonder: Where is Jessica's husband Duncan during this melee and its aftermath? As Jessica has predicted, Duncan likes Emily, and he wastes no time sleeping with her – despite the fact that his best friend Woody is interested in her and that he himself has a wife living under the very same roof. Emily and Duncan are even so brazen as to kiss in full view of Jessica's window, confirming her fears.
After Emily tries to drown her, Jessica hitches a ride to town to try to find Duncan. She can't locate him, and she eventually passes out from exhaustion outside the farmhouse. She wakes up in the dark, all alone. Duncan finally finds her, and she apologizes for some reason that seems unclear. When they return to the farmhouse, Jessica gets into bed with Duncan, who is acting uncharacteristically kind.
But nothing good ever lasts, at least for Jessica – just as she notices a huge gash on Duncan's neck, Emily appears (still in the wedding dress!) holding a knife. Then Jessica realizes that the townspeople (all men!) are huddled in the bedroom with them. Jessica runs out and finds Woody, riding his trusty old tractor. Unfortunately, Woody – who had gotten his neck chewed by Emily earlier in the film – is dead.
Jessica tries to board the ferry as daylight breaks, but she's told, "The ferry isn't running for you." In survival mode, she gets on a rowboat and pushes it out onto the lake, still in her nightgown. A hand grabs onto the rowboat, and she beats the person attached to death – as luck would have it, it's Duncan. It's unclear if he was coming to rescue her or attack her. Considering he came from the murky depths of the lake (just as Emily emerged from the lake in Abigail Bishop's wedding dress), it's a safe bet he wasn't there to row her to safety.
Jessica looks back to shore and sees the townsfolk and Emily waiting and watching her. She sits alone in her rowboat, drifting, and the just-risen sun is that dangerous orangey red worn by Emily throughout much of the movie. Our heroine is abandoned and terrified. She slumps down, then sinks down completely as melancholy piano music plays over the ending credits. "Madness or sanity," she asks herself. "I don't know which is which."
But doesn't she? Jessica is actually the only character with a decent head on her shoulders, if we accept that the townsfolk (and Emily/Abigail Bishop) are vampires – and this is a horror film, so it's a perfectly acceptable explanation. Both Duncan and Woody lost their heads (and probably a decent amount of blood) over a sexy stranger; Emily herself was purely evil throughout the film, manipulating Jessica and Woody, and even murdering Jessica's pet mole. Of course Jessica would want to run away – of course she would pick up on the danger pulsing around her.
When Jessica sees things that she can't explain, she thinks, "Don't tell them; they'll never believe you." But what she sees is real, and unfortunately, the disbelief of the other three characters makes Jessica doubt herself even more. Let's Scare Jessica to Death was ahead of its time. Emotional abuse and gaslighting is a more common theme in modern day horror movies, but it wasn't as prevalent in the 1960s and 1970s. Jessica is living by her husband's whims, and she's constantly treated like an overly delicate and mentally unstable woman.
But Jessica is also the only (human) character to survive at the end. Watching her sink into her rowboat is painful. Has she given up? Has she accepted the misogynistic judgment placed on her throughout the film? There's no solid answer. But it's nice to imagine Jessica sitting up in that rowboat, paddling her way to safety and living a new life on her own terms after escaping from the haunted farmhouse – and her haunted relationship.
When people think of horror films, slashers are often the first thing that comes to mind. The sub-genres also spawned a wealth of horror icons: Freddy, Jason, Michael, Chucky - characters so recognisable we’re on first name terms with them. In many ways the slasher distills the genre down to some of its fundamental parts - fear, violence and murder.
Throughout September we were looking at slasher films, and therefore we decided to cover a slasher film that could be considered as an underrated gem in the horror genre. And the perfect film for this was Franck Khalfoun’s 2012 remake of MANIAC.
In the late seventies and early eighties, one man was considered the curator of all things gore in America. During the lovingly named splatter decade, Tom Savini worked on masterpieces of blood and viscera like Dawn of the Dead (1978), a film which gained the attention of hopeful director William Lustig, a man only known for making pornography before his step into horror.
Looking for some different slasher film recommendations? Then look no fruther as Ariel Powers-Schaub has 13 non-typical slasher horror films for you to watch.
Even though they are not to my personal liking, there is no denying that slasher films have been an important basis for the horror genre, and helped to build the foundations for other sub-genres throughout the years.
But some of the most terrifying horrors are those that take place entirely under the skin, where the mind is the location of the fear. Psychological horror has the power to unsettle by calling into question the basis of the self - one's own brain.
On Saturday, 17th June 2023, I sat down with two friends to watch The Human Centipede (First Sequence) (2009) and The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) (2012). I was nervous to be grossed out (I can’t really handle the idea of eating shit) but excited to cross these two films off my list.
Many of the most effective horror films involve blurring the lines between waking life and a nightmare. When women in horror are emotionally and psychologically manipulated – whether by other people or more malicious supernatural forces – viewers are pulled into their inner worlds, often left with a chilling unease and the question of where reality ends and the horror begins.
Body horror is one of the fundamental pillars of the horror genre and crops up in some form or another in a huge variety of works. There's straightforward gore - the inherent horror of seeing the body mutilated, and also more nuanced fears.
In the sweaty summer of 1989, emerging like a monochrome migraine from the encroaching shadow of Japan’s economic crash, Shin’ya Tsukamoto’s Tetsuo: The Iron Man shocked and disgusted the (very few) audiences originally in attendance.
Whether it's the havoc wreaked on the human body during pregnancy, emotional turmoil producing tiny murderous humans or simply a body turning on its owner, body horror films tend to be shocking. But while they're full of grotesque imagery, they're also full of thoughtful premises and commentary, especially when it comes to women, trauma, and power.
The human body is a thing of wonder and amazement–the way it heals itself, regenerates certain parts and can withstand pain and suffering to extreme extents. But the human body can also be a thing of disgust and revulsion–with repugnant distortions, oozing fluids and rotting viscera.
This June we’ve been looking at originals and their remakes—and whilst we don’t always agree with horror film remakes, some of them often bring a fresh perspective to the source material. For this episode, we are looking at the remake of one of the most controversial exploitation films, The Last House on the Left (2009).
The year was 1968 and a young man named George A. Romero had shot his first film, a horror movie that would change the world of cinema and not just horror cinema, at that. Night of the Living Dead (1968), would go on to become one of the most important and famous horror films of all time as it tackled not only survival horror but also very taboo and shocking topics like cannibalism and matricide.
In the end I decided to indulge myself by picking eight of my favourite shorts, and choosing features to pair with them that would work well as a double bill. The pairs might be similar in tone, subject or style; some of the shorts are clearly influenced by their paired movie, while others predate the features.
RELATED ARTICLES
Possessor is a slick futuristic thriller in which Tasya Vos, an assassin for hire, must manage her responsibilities as an elite killing machine and complex feelings towards her husband and son, whilst taking on another high-profile job that will push her to the edge of her sanity.
Sara is a woman condemned from the start, first because of her religious beliefs…
The Babadook is a 2014 psychological horror, the directorial debut of Jennifer Kent…
Helen Lyle is a triple threat. She is smart, charismatic and tenacious. An innovative researcher who wants to push the envelope. ..
When James Wan’s The Conjuring (2013) was first released, it set the tone for 2010s horror and was regarded by some horror fans as the beginning of a renaissance for the genre…
Sara is host of a failing web series entitled Encounters which shows her meeting a range of offbeat people through personal ads…
It’s not wholly obvious in the first thirty minutes of Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre just who our final girl will be…
Filmdom’s conventional wisdom in the mid-20th Century decreed that horror was no place for a lady. That is, unless it was as a shrieking victim dressed in a bosom-baring, diaphanous nightie…
When reassessing The Exorcist, there are implications of abuse brought on by Chris MacNeil’s reluctance to be a proper ‘mother’ to Regan…
Everyone must play, no outsiders allowed, nobody leaves.
Mary Harron’s American Psycho has had a strange and convoluted path to its current position as a lauded part of the American horror canon…
EXPLORE
Now it’s time for Soho’s main 2023 event, which is presented over two weekends: a live film festival at the Whirled Cinema in Brixton, London, and an online festival a week later. Both have very rich and varied programmes (with no overlap this year), with something for every horror fan.
In the six years since its release the Nintendo Switch has amassed an extensive catalogue of games, with everything from puzzle platformer games to cute farming sims to, uh, whatever Waifu Uncovered is.
A Quiet Place (2018) opens 89 days after a race of extremely sound-sensitive creatures show up on Earth, perhaps from an exterritorial source. If you make any noise, even the slightest sound, you’re likely to be pounced upon by these extremely strong and staggeringly fast creatures and suffer a brutal death.
If you like cults, sacrificial parties, and lesbian undertones then Mona Awad’s Bunny is the book for you. Samantha, a student at a prestigious art university, feels isolated from her cliquey classmates, ‘the bunnies’.
The slasher sub genre has always been huge in the world of horror, but after the ‘70s and ‘80s introduced classic characters like Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, Leatherface, and Jason, it’s not harsh to say that the ‘90s was slightly lacking in the icon department.
Mother is God in the eyes of a child, and it seems God has abandoned the town of Silent Hill. Silent Hill is not a place you want to visit.
Being able to see into the future or back into the past is a superpower that a lot of us would like to have. And while it may seem cool, in horror movies it usually involves characters being sucked into terrifying situations as they try to save themselves or other people with the information they’ve gleaned in their visions.
Both the original Pet Sematary (1989) and its 2019 remake are stories about the way death and grief can affect people in different ways. And while the films centre on Louis Creed and his increasingly terrible decision-making process, there’s no doubt that the story wouldn’t pack the same punch or make the same sense without his wife, Rachel.
I can sometimes go months without having a panic attack. Unfortunately, this means that when they do happen, they often feel like they come out of nowhere. They can come on so fast and hard it’s like being hit by a bus, my breath escapes my body, and I can’t get it back.