the town that dreaded sundown

The term “independent film” didn’t always bring to mind Sundance-style dramas with characters having endless conversations about their sexuality. For most of the ‘70s it was just about making a buck. Drive-ins were still in full force and a producer who was quick to capitalize on a fad could put together something on the cheap and make a bundle. Producer/ director Charles B. Pierce’s The Legend of Boggy Creek did just that. Hitting just as the Bigfoot craze was taking off, the faux-documentary following one family’s search for a shaggy creature lurking in an Arkansas swamp, made over $20 million bucks and bought Pierce a career making small genre films between his regular gig as a set decorator.

It was four more years before he returned to the horror genre with The Town that Dreaded Sundown. And, much as he did with Boggy Creek, Pierce used the “true story” angle to grab people’s attention. Using a dramatic narrator and meticulously noting names, dates and places, Sundown is part 60 Minutes, part slasher film played out by a mix of faded Hollywood stars and amateur actors.

Based on actual events that occurred in 1946 in Texarkana, the plots stays fairly close to the facts surrounding the case - which was never solved - involving a masked psychopath who stalked and killed five teenagers at popular “lovers’ lane” spots in the area. Captain Morales (Ben Johnson), a famous Texas Ranger, is brought it to help solve the case alongside Deputy Norman Ramsey (Andrew Prine) of the local PD. The movie recreates most of the murders with an eye for accuracy with one notable embellishment: a ridiculous death-by-trombone sequence that exists purely for exploitation purposes. Dawn Wells (Mary Ann of Gilligan’s Island fame) also cameos as a memorable victim who is shot through the mouth but survives after a three hour operation….a three hour operation. (bad joke and inaccurate, I’m sure).

At times, the film seems to be held together with scotch tape and tree sap. Production gaffes like visible microphones and cameramen can be spotted throughout. Not to mention the local actors’ stilted line deliveries, which sound even worse next to professionals like Johnson and Prine. There’s no real rhythm to the story, which is interrupted by Roger Corman-style comic relief in the form of Patrolman “Sparkplug” Benson (played by Pierce himself). But as Prine points out in the DVD extras, this is the sort of movie that was only meant to be seen once; the sort of “get in-get out” entertainment that defined independent films in those days.

And in that respect Sundown got there first on a number of accounts, including the portrayal of its masked killer as a bag-wearing heavy breather, predating slashers-to-come like Jason Vorhees and Michael Myers by a number of years. And for those already initiated into the homegrown horrors of Herschell Gordon Lewis and other southern specialists, you’ll find that Sundown offers the same low-rent charm.

Scream Factory proves once again why they’re the top of the heap as far as cult classics on disc are concerned. Not only does Sundown get a remarkable blu-ray transfer, interviews with actors Andrew Prine and Dawn Wells, commentary from historian Jim Presley and an essay on the life and career of director Charles B. Pierce, but you get an entire extra movie in the bargain! Produced three years later 1979’s The Evictors is included on the DVD portion of the combo-pack and stars Jessica Harper (Suspiria), Vic Morrow and Michael Parks (the best thing about Kevin Smith’s recent horror experiment Red State) in another period story about a house that seems to have more than it’s fair share of fatal accidents. The story is confused and confusing, but Harper – a genre favorite – is always interesting to watch and her performance here is probably the best that Pierce ever pulled out of an actor.