deadly blessing

He might not be the most talented, most original or most influential horror director, but Wes Craven has certainly proven to be the most durable. From The Last House on the Left (1972) to A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) to the Scream franchise (1996 – 2011), Craven has left his mark on four decades of film history. In a genre that screams for new blood every ten years or so, that’s an eternity. And he’s done it in workmanlike fashion, adapting his style to whatever best fits the story whether that be a high-profile thriller or a low-budget TV movie.

By his own admission, Deadly Blessing (1981) served as Craven’s introduction to Hollywood filmmaking: the first time working in 35mm, shooting on sets, and dealing with producer’s demands. The film itself is rather lacking in style, shot with a “movie-of-the-week” detachment that is miles away from the gritty exploitation that Craven was known for at the time. Today, it’s likely best known for supplying Sharon Stone with her first significant screen role as one of three BFFs under the thumb of an oppressive Amish-like cult who call themselves Hittites.

Martha (Maren Jensen) is a recently widowed farmwife whose husband – an ex-Hittite himself – died under mysterious circumstances. His relatives, led by an imposing patriarch Isaiah (Ernest Borgnine, sporting an awesome beard), don’t offer much sympathy. In fact they insist that an Incubus – a sexually malicioius spirit - is to blame for all the recent evils. Martha invites her old chums (Sharon Stone and Susan Buckner) out for a country vacation to take her mind off things. But their skimpy clothes and sexually liberated ideas don’t sit well with the Hittite community. And soon they’re harvesting more bodies than crops.

Like the repressive Hittites themselves, Deadly Blessing is rather prudish for a horror film. There’s little skin, blood or objectionable material worthy of an R-rating. Craven casts the iconic Michael Berryman (The Hills Have Eyes), whose unusual physical appearance makes him an instant suspect, likely just to give the film some carryover cache. But the movie is mostly content to creep along with a few supernatural suggestions while the audience tries to guess who has the most compelling motivation to kill.

The big reveal is a bit laughable, so a new ending was tacked on at the producer’s request; an ending that Craven copied more successfully in Nightmare. In fact, everything about Deadly Blessing was done more successfully later in Craven’s career. The material is a great fit with the director’s overall theme of the distorted American family (a subtext that bubbles up in Hills, Nightmare and The People Under the Stairs), but feels like a film with the training wheels still attached.

Scream Factory’s blu-ray looks very, very good however and is another keeper for fans of obscure horror who never thought second-tier Craven titles like this would get the high-def treatment. The extras are many and varied, including on-camera interview with actors Berryman and Buckner and screenwriters Benest and Barr, along with TV spots and trailers. But the highlight is Craven’s commentary: polite, concise and informative. It’s easy to see why he might be horror’s most respected elder statesman.