Movie Review: Eye of the Devil, starring Deborah Kerr, David Niven, and Sharon Tate (1967)

 

Original poster for Eye of the Devil, 1967.

The 1966 horror thriller Eye of the Devil marked the screen debut of actress Sharon Tate. During her lifetime, Tate was known for starring in 1967’s Valley of the Dolls, as well as for her marriage to Polish director Roman Polanski. Ultimately, however, Sharon Tate became much more famous for how she died. In August of 1969 Tate was gruesomely murdered, along with four other people, by followers of Charles Manson.

Over the past few years, there’s been a resurgence of interest in Tate’s life and career. An auction of Tate’s clothes and other memorabilia took place in 2018—her wedding dress, a gorgeous white mini-dress, perfectly evocative of the swinging 60’s, sold for more than $50,000. Tate was portrayed by Margot Robbie in Quentin Tarantino’s 2019 film Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. While Robbie doesn’t get as much screen time as Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt, it is Tate’s spirit that is the driving force behind the film’s storyline. And ultimately, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is an attempt to make us see Sharon Tate as something other than merely a murder victim.

Sharon Tate in Paris, 1968.

I’ve known who Sharon Tate was since I was about 12 years old. That was back in 1993, and as a newly converted Beatles fan, I soon learned about Charles Manson’s twisted reading of the White Album, and how his followers had murdered Tate. Until 2 or 3 years ago, I had only seen about 5 pictures of Sharon Tate. Back in the 1990’s, before the internet had really taken off, it was hard to find pictures of famous people. There was a picture of Sharon Tate in my Chronicle of the 20^th Century book, so that became my image of her. I thought to myself, “Oh, she’s cute,” but really didn’t think any more about her. But now, after watching Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and scouring Instagram, I’ve seen a ton of pictures of Sharon Tate. And one day, as I looked at a picture of Sharon Tate, one of the pictures of her taken in Paris in 1968 by Jean Claude Deutsch, it struck me: she was more than just cute, she was incredibly beautiful. Eventually I realized: oh, she looked amazing in pretty much every outfit she wore, and in all kinds of different styles. In addition to her beauty, pretty much everyone who worked with Sharon Tate spoke about what a fantastic person she was as well. She was beautiful on the outside and the inside. I understood more about what people saw in Sharon Tate. Sharon Tate has now become a key style icon of the 1960’s, and there are numerous accounts on Instagram that are tributes to her life and fashion style.

I fully realize this might all sound shallow: “Oh, hey, this one actress who died super tragically was also really gorgeous!” And maybe it is shallow to admire the fashion style of a gorgeous young woman from the 1960’s. But I’d argue that anything that focuses on Sharon Tate’s life rather than her death is positive, as it makes you consider her as a person, and not just a victim. And if you’re interested in cultural history, Sharon Tate is more than just a cute actress who appeared in 6 films before she was murdered. She’s a symbol of the swinging 60’s, married to a hip young director, her life cruelly snuffed out by the dark underside of the hippie dream. Sharon Tate is a link to so many things that are still front and center in American pop culture: the bizarre Charles Manson cult, which continues to be a subject of fascination in the mass media, and Roman Polanski, himself a figure of great controversy who inevitably resurfaces in the media every year or so, as someone or other advocates either for his absolution, or for his extradition to the United States. Sharon Tate’s mother and sisters all became powerful advocates for victims’ rights, and they have made a significant impact on the legal system in the United States. Sharon Tate’s impact continues to be felt down the years, even more than 50 years after her tragic death.

All of this is a prelude to say that I finally decided I need to watch all of Sharon Tate’s 6 movies. I did see The Wrecking Crew during high school, when I was going through my Dean Martin phase. Actually, my Dean Martin phase might still be going on, as I continue to think that he’s one of the coolest guys to have walked the planet. I suppose I feel like I owe it to Sharon Tate to see her movies, so I know her as more than just a pretty face I see on Instagram.

Eye of the Devil was produced by Martin Ransohoff, who had discovered Sharon Tate and signed her to a management contract. Ransohoff’s company was Filmways, Inc., which produced many hit TV shows during the 1960’s: The Beverly Hillbillies, Petticoat Junction, Mister Ed, Green Acres, and The Addams Family. By the time Eye of the Devil started shooting in late 1965, Filmways had branched out into film production as well. Notable movies the company had produced by that point were The Americanization of Emily, starring James Garner and Julie Andrews, The Sandpiper, starring Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, and The Cincinnati Kid, starring Steve McQueen.

The cast of Eye of the Devil was quite distinguished: the leading man was British actor David Niven, and his leading lady was Kim Novak, one of my favorite actresses of that era. David Niven was the perfect English gentleman, on screen and off. If you look up “charm” in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure you’ll find his picture. I’ve never heard a bad word said about David Niven. He charmed everyone he met, and he was known for being one of the best storytellers in Hollywood. David Niven was just cool. Niven had a humorous quip for every single situation imaginable—as when he hosted the Oscars in 1974 and was interrupted by a streaker. The unflappable Niven then ad-libbed, “Well, ladies and gentlemen, that was almost bound to happen. But isn’t it fascinating to think that probably the only laugh that man will ever get in his life is by stripping off and showing his shortcomings.” Brilliant.

Niven’s large blue eyes gave him an expressive face, and it’s a face that photographed extremely well. Niven also wore clothes very well—his wardrobe in Eye of the Devil is outstanding: an excellent example of the phrase, “clothes make the man.”

Also, David Niven has perhaps the greatest name ever. It’s easy to remember, it rolls off the tongue, and it has almost perfect symmetry. 5 letters in the first name, 5 letters in the last name. First name starts and ends with the same letter. Last name starts and ends with the same letter. There’s a V in the middle of both names. It’s really a fantastic name.

A couple of directors were attached to Eye of the Devil before the veteran British director J. Lee Thompson was chosen, just before filming was due to begin. Among Thompson’s most famous films are two excellent early 1960’s movies: The Guns of Navarone, with Gregory Peck and Niven, and Cape Fear, with Peck and Robert Mitchum.

After the struggle to find a director, Eye of the Devil suffered additional bad luck, as Novak was seriously injured in a fall from a horse two months into filming. Novak couldn’t continue filming, so she had to be replaced. Fortunately, her replacement was one of the greatest actresses of the era: Deborah Kerr. It would be fascinating to compare Novak’s footage with the finished film starring Kerr. But I don’t have a time machine, so we can’t do that. Because Novak and Kerr’s character is the central one in the movie, almost everything would have had to be re-shot with Kerr, which must have added considerably to the cost of the film. (I would assume the movie went over-budget because of this, but I haven’t found any figures for what the final cost was.)

David Niven and Deborah Kerr in Eye of the Devil, 1967. In the lower left-hand corner, we have another clue that the movie's original title was 13, as this picture is noted 13-23. You can see this often on old movie still or lobby cards-they're usually marked with an abbreviation of the movie's title. If Eye of the Devil would have been the original title, this photo would be marked EOTD-23.

The film opens with David Niven in his natural habitat: wearing a tuxedo at a fancy dinner party. Niven plays Phillippe, a French marquis who owns a castle and a vineyard. (Thankfully, no one in the cast attempted a French accent.) At the dinner party, Phillippe receives the bad news that the crops have failed for the third year in a row. This sends Phillippe into a dark mood. Phillippe and Catherine (Deborah Kerr) have two young children, but Phillippe insists on going to the castle, Bellenac, alone. (At 55, Niven was perhaps a bit old to play a character with two children under the age of 8.)

Phillippe hops in his E-type Jaguar convertible and drives off to Bellenac. Oh, to be as cool as David Niven driving an E-type Jaguar through the French countryside towards your chateau! The rest of us can only dream. There’s a beautiful shot from the interior of the chateau as Niven parks the Jag in the courtyard, and the car stops between two windowpanes.

Catherine brings the children to Bellenac anyway, and when she shows up it’s clear that everything at Bellenac is quite off-kilter and weird. No one answers her questions about what’s going on. There’s a weird brother and sister who skulk around the chateau dressed in all black. (David Hemmings and Sharon Tate) There’s a creepy priest. (Donald Pleasance) If I were Deborah Kerr, I’d pack up the kids in the Mercedes and split back to Paris.

Eye of the Devil is an excellent example of how a movie can set an eerie tone with very little work—so much of the work is done with camera angles, lighting, music, editing, etc., rather than anything hitting you over the head.

Tate’s character, Odile de Caray, seems to have magic powers, as she amazes the children by turning a frog into a dove. This sets up a line I found unintentionally funny, as Kerr chastises David Hemmings’ character for having killed a dove, he shrewdly points out, “My sister created a dove.” Well, there you go.

Odile lets the children play on the castle’s parapet, and there are some shots of the boy on the parapet that are quite terrifying to those of us who suffer from a fear of heights. (I’m not sure I want to know if there were any safety precautions in place or not.) This angers Catherine, and Odile then hypnotizes her and seems quite content to just let Catherine stroll off the edge to her death, but Catherine snaps out of her trance just in time.

When Philippe learns what Odile has done, he punishes her by beating her with a riding crop. It’s difficult to say if the punishment had the desired effect, to judge by the satisfied look on Tate’s face when Niven finishes beating her. Interesting.   

Sharon Tate as Odile de Caray. I don't care how many doves you've created, Odile, you're not supposed to let the children play on the parapet!

Unfortunately, Odile doesn’t get much to do during the second half of the movie. (Maybe she’s recovering from her punishment?) Tate plays her role with very little affect, which makes Odile come off as quite creepy. Odile is stunning because of her physical beauty, but then when you hear her speak, you can’t really figure out if she’s good or bad, or just super weird, so she’s quite unsettling. Tate’s main costume as Odile is very sexy: tight black sweater, tight black pants, and knee-high black leather boots. Tate’s hairstyle is perfect mid-1960’s Hollywood starlet—her hair is perfectly tousled, teased, and back-combed—it’s very 1965, so the emphasis is on body and volume, unlike the long, straight hairstyle that Tate wore in 1968-69.

I’ll leave the plot summary there, so no spoilers for a movie that’s more than 50 years old. Eye of the Devil is an excellent little thriller, and Niven and Kerr both give excellent performances. It’s a curio today, but it’s well-worth your time if you’re interested in any of the main actors, or if you’re really into French chateaus.

An original poster for Eye of the Devil, then called 13. Again, this is an indication of how late the title switch came. Sorry for the Getty Images watermark, but I'm not going to pay $200 to use this image. Can you tell the studio is pushing Sharon Tate? Her eyes are the main image, she's the subject of the tagline, we have a drawing of David Niven whipping her-this scene was featured a LOT in the trailer-and we have a little drawing of her by the box with her name in it.

Eye of the Devil was based on the novel The Day of the Arrow. The film was originally titled 13, and, indeed, the end credits of the movie call the movie “13, presented by MGM.” The title switch must have happened late in post-production, and I even found a poster where the title is listed as 13. Personally, I think The Day of the Arrow would have been a much better title for the movie. I don’t think 13 is a good title, and while Eye of the Devil isn’t a bad title, it doesn’t seem to be the right title for this movie. Oddly enough, Sharon Tate’s last movie was a version of The Thirteen Chairs, and was originally released under the title 12+1.

Filming of Eye of the Devil presumably wrapped up in early 1966, and, according to IMDB, the film premiered in Milan, Italy, on November 18, 1966. Throughout 1967, it rolled out throughout Europe, before finally having its American premiere on September 6, 1967, in Wisconsin. Wait, what? That doesn’t make a lot of sense, but that’s what IMDB says. Maybe it was a test screening? On December 6, 1967, Eye of the Devil premiered in New York City. It’s curious that the film wasn’t released in the US in late 1966. Maybe MGM didn’t know what to do with it? Eye of the Devil was meant to be Sharon Tate’s film debut, but by the time anyone in the US saw it, two of her other films had already been released: The Fearless Vampire Killers and Don’t Make Waves. Tate’s breakthrough 4^th movie, Valley of the Dolls, premiered in New York City just a week after Eye of the Devil.

After watching Eye of the Devil, you should watch All Eyes on Sharon Tate, a 10-minute short film meant to build more buzz around Tate. All Eyes on Sharon Tate was filmed at the same time as Eye of the Devil. I wonder where All Eyes on Sharon Tate would have been shown in 1966? Would it have been shown on TV, or in movie theaters before the main feature? You can find it on YouTube, and it’s quite interesting. It opens on Sharon in a nightclub, dancing with David Hemmings. She’s wearing a fantastic black dress highlighted with sparkly sequins. You’ll have to be quick with the pause button to see a newspaper photo of Sharon and Kim Novak that’s briefly glimpsed in a montage of publicity photos and articles.

Sharon Tate and David Niven share a laugh on the set, 1965.

Sharon Tate and David Niven, 1965.

There’s an interesting part in All Eyes on Sharon Tate where Sharon talks about David Niven: “When I was younger, I thought, this is the man I’m going to marry.” She also describes Niven as “so suave, and elegant, and handsome, and witty.” I have no doubt that David Niven had a witty rejoinder when Sharon told him of her crush on him. We get to see some behind the scenes footage of Tate and Niven together, and we see them holding hands and hugging each other as they walk side by side in the vineyard—there’s more than a little natural chemistry there. Given Sharon’s interest in comedy, it’s too bad that she and Niven didn’t have the chance to make a comedy together. Unfortunately, Niven doesn’t mention Tate in either of his memoirs, which focus more on his early years in Hollywood.

Eye of the Devil gives the viewer a chance to see the beauty and star quality of Sharon Tate, which still shine brightly today.

Movie Review: Jane Fonda in "Barbarella" (1968)

Jane Fonda as Barbarella, 1968.

This is the picture you find if you look up "sex kitten" in the dictionary.

Another tough day at work for director Roger Vadim.

1968’s campy sci-fi flick “Barbarella,” starring Jane Fonda at her most radiant, is one of the odder movies I’ve seen. I’d heard about the movie for a long time, in particular the famous opening scene where Fonda performs a sexy zero-gravity striptease. The opening titles cleverly scramble around to protect Fonda’s modesty as she strips naked, but we do see her breasts in several shots. And then we still see her breasts, even after she puts on clothes 10 minutes into the movie. When “Barbarella” was re-released in theaters in 1977, it was given the subtitle: “Queen of the Galaxy,” but I think a more apropos subtitle would have been: “Jane Fonda’s Boobs.” 

There’s nothing that can quite prepare you for actually watching “Barbarella,” and all of the silliness that transpires during its 98 minute running time. If you want to see a movie where famous mime Marcel Marceau actually has a speaking role, you’ve come to the right place. However, that’s not the reason most people saw “Barbarella.” The real reason is how unbelievably hot Jane Fonda was in 1968, and all the sexy costumes she’s almost wearing in the movie. 

“Barbarella” was based on a French science-fiction comic about a sexy female astronaut, and was directed by Fonda’s then-husband Roger Vadim. Vadim was most famous for directing his first wife, Brigitte Bardot, in her breakthrough performance “And God Created Woman” in 1956. Vadim earned the envy of every straight man on earth during the 1950’s and 60’s thanks to his marriages to Bardot and Fonda. Oh, and in between his marriages to Bardot and Fonda, he romanced Catherine Deneuve, which officially qualified him for the “Luckiest Bastard Ever” award. For obvious reasons, Vadim titled his 1986 autobiography “Bardot, Deneuve, Fonda: My Life with the Three Most Beautiful Women in the World.” 

The plot of “Barbarella” is really secondary, but it involves Barbarella carrying out a mission for the President of Earth. Barbarella is supposed to find the missing scientist Durand Durand, who has invented a “positronic ray.” (Yup, that’s where the 80’s British band Duran Duran got their name.) In this future setting, no one on Earth has any need for any weapons, as peace and harmony reign. The President of Earth doesn’t even have any armies or policemen. So why does he choose Barbarella for this mission? Well, because she’s a “five-star double-rated astronavigatrix,” whatever that is. And she’s performed missions for the President before; as he says that one day he hopes to meet her in person. (Probably because he keeps ogling her boobs as he talks to her through a two-way TV screen.) 

Despite being a “five-star double-rated astronavigatrix,” Barbarella actually proves to be quite incompetent, and during the film she’s often reduced to being a damsel in distress who is saved by a succession of different men. Barbarella survives innumerable death traps throughout the movie, ranging from toy dolls with gruesome sharp teeth to a deadly pleasure-inducing machine. Along the way, Barbarella discovers the pleasures of making love, as she meets the hirsute Mark Hand after her spaceship crashes in the icy plains of Weir. Hand saves Barbarella from the killer toy dolls, and when she says she doesn’t know how to thank him, he thinks of the oldest way in the book. (The future doesn’t actually seem that advanced as far as gender relations go.) When he tells Barbarella he wants to make love to her, she is puzzled and responds “What do you mean? You don’t even know my psychocardiogram!” She goes on to explain: “Well, on Earth, for centuries, people haven't made love unless their psychocardiogram readings were in perfect confluence.” Lovemaking is now achieved by taking a pill and touching hands for a minute or until “full rapport” occurs. In one of the funniest parts of the movie, Hand asks Barbarella why people no longer make love the old way. She says, “'Cause it was proved to be distracting and a danger to maximum efficiency! And… and because it was pointless to continue it when other substitutes for ego support and self-esteem were made available.” 

“Barbarella” is ultra-campy, and it thankfully has its tongue planted firmly in cheek most of the time. In addition to the lines about future sex, there are some funny moments, as when Hand takes off his fur jacket, revealing that he is just as hairy without the jacket as he is with it. Hand gives Barbarella one of his furs to wear, and it looks like a skunk, complete with long tail that gets caught in the door of Barbarella’s spaceship. 

Barbarella’s spaceship then crashes again, and she meets the blind angel Pygar, played by the statuesque John Phillip Law, and his friend Professor Ping, played by Marcel Marceau. (Marceau’s voice was dubbed.) Barbarella thanks Pygar for saving her by making love to him, and he thus regains the will to fly. (I told you this movie was campy!) Barbarella then makes her way to the city of SoGo, where she meets a concierge (Milo O’Shea and his giant eyebrows) who is an assistant to the Great Tyrant, the Black Queen, played by Keith Richards’ then girlfriend Anita Pallenberg. Pallenberg also had a small role in another 1968 sex farce which was also co-written by Terry Southern, “Candy.” I reviewed “Candy” here, and the movies do have some similarities, as they tell picaresque tales of attractive young women that make every man fall in love with them. The male performances in “Candy” are better, as you get to see huge stars like Richard Burton and Marlon Brando hamming it up, but Jane Fonda is a much better actress than Ewa Aulin, the Swedish actress who played Candy. 

Meanwhile, as the plot trundles on, Barbarella has to survive another death trap, as the Black Queen captures Barbarella and puts her in a cage to be pecked to death by birds, in an obvious homage to Alfred Hitchcock. But Barbarella escapes down a hatch and meets the funniest character in the film, a revolutionary played by David Hemmings, fresh off his most famous role as the photographer in Michelangelo Antonioni’s “Blow-Up.” Hemmings reminded me a lot of fellow swinging 60’s British actor Terence Stamp, as they both have the same intense, heavily lidded blue eyes. Hemmings mines his small role for all the comedy it’s worth, as he stammers over his lines and insists that Barbarella make love with him in the new Earth way, by taking pills and touching palms, which literally makes your hair curl. Hemmings then gives Barbarella an invisible key to the Queen’s sleeping chambers. Yes, an invisible key. It turns out that the concierge is actually Durand Durand himself, and he uses the positronic ray to wreak havoc on the citizens of SoGo, killing just about everyone before he gets killed by his own evil invention. Oh, and there’s some subterranean sludge called the Mathmos, which makes SoGo evil, or something like that, but Barbarella’s innocence saves her and the Queen from being destroyed by it. Nope, not kidding about that.

“Barbarella” is a ridiculous movie, but it remains a fun romp because of Fonda’s knowingly humorous performance, and her amazing costumes, designed by Jacques Fonteray and Paco Rabanne. Fonda is amazingly beautiful and sexy as Barbarella, and she brings the right amount of wide-eyed innocence to the role. Barbarella is completely guileless, and doesn’t understand why all of these men are falling at her feet. Had Fonda been a less gifted actress, “Barbarella” could have doomed her to be typecast as a bimbo, but she was able to escape the sex kitten image she created in “Barbarella.” The very 60’s soundtrack is by the superbly talented Bob Crewe, who wrote and produced many hits for the Four Seasons, and is a great singer in his own right. 

“Barbarella” was fun to watch, but I think it must have been more fun to see it back in 1968, when it was shocking audiences and when its boundary breaking would have seemed fresher. But if you want to take a trip back to the swinging 60’s, watch “Barbarella.”