Using the TV previously, I forgot I had the volume turned up, a little higher than usual. Bang straight away, it made me jump, as hitting play; a creepy sounding organ score started playing over the opening credits. And that's where it ends. Bill Rebane's clunky, second-string supernatural horror falls more on mean-spirited and strange with a jaunty dream-like quality, than anything overly chilling. Even trying to make sense of the choppy story, is far from Rebane's mind.
Well having an antique piano, that when it's played, unleashes a demonic force seeking revenge against the towns cursed descendants. And these superstitious folks, along with a head tilting dog, are quite a disinterested looking bunch too. Meaning there are going to be a few silly, gaudy shocks. Malevolent ghosts start showing up, ladies clothes get torn off their bodies, limbs are cut off, objects begin floating around, small-time pyrotechnics ignite, every now and again a green glowing demonic hand pops out of nowhere and a grand white piano that bleeds blood, begins playing by itself and even at one stage laughing while elevating. Those moments with their cheap effects, limited sets are weirdly fun.
It's just in between those hokey, exaggerated set-pieces, it can look flat. Ignoring the picturesque locations and concentrating on stodgy background exposition of a priest and freelance journalist simply going around in circles trying to uncover and convince everyone of what's happening in the town is a result of its past. Even small community dramas, the cliché kind, play apart.
Well having an antique piano, that when it's played, unleashes a demonic force seeking revenge against the towns cursed descendants. And these superstitious folks, along with a head tilting dog, are quite a disinterested looking bunch too. Meaning there are going to be a few silly, gaudy shocks. Malevolent ghosts start showing up, ladies clothes get torn off their bodies, limbs are cut off, objects begin floating around, small-time pyrotechnics ignite, every now and again a green glowing demonic hand pops out of nowhere and a grand white piano that bleeds blood, begins playing by itself and even at one stage laughing while elevating. Those moments with their cheap effects, limited sets are weirdly fun.
It's just in between those hokey, exaggerated set-pieces, it can look flat. Ignoring the picturesque locations and concentrating on stodgy background exposition of a priest and freelance journalist simply going around in circles trying to uncover and convince everyone of what's happening in the town is a result of its past. Even small community dramas, the cliché kind, play apart.