The Mephisto Waltz (1971)

          Despite falling well short of greatness, The Mephisto Waltz is an above-average supernatural-horror flick with evocative atmosphere, strong acting, and a unique hook—it’s built around the world of classical music. It should also be noted that the movie stars Jacqueline Bisset at her most ravishingly beautiful, so the eye-candy quotient is considerable. At the beginning of the movie, we meet angsty Myles Clarkson (Alan Alda), a mediocre pianist relegated to interviewing better players in his role as a music journalist. Accompanied by his wife, Paula (Bisset), Myles travels to a sprawling estate for an audience with Duncan Ely (Curt Jurgens), a legendary virtuoso. Although Paula gets a bad vibe off Duncan and his twentysomething daughter, Roxanne (Barbara Parkins), Myles quickly falls under Duncan’s spell—because Duncan claims he can train Myles to become a world-class pianist. It turns out the Elys are Satan worshippers, and Duncan has designs on U-Hauling his soul into Myles’ healthy young body, since Duncan is terminally ill but determined to preserve his genius.

          It’s not giving anything away to say that Duncan succeeds, because the real thrills begin when Paula starts to realize her husband isn’t her husband anymore. Produced by prolific TV guy Quinn Martin (whose output included The Fugitive and The Streets of San Francisco), the picture is capably directed by Paul Wendkos from a script by Ben Maddow (which was adapted from Fred Mustard Stewart’s novel). The execution is stylish even when the story gets convoluted and silly, and the film benefits tremendously from spooky music by composer Jerry Goldsmith. Additionally, the locations are consistently credible, especially the shadowy expanses of the Ely mansion. Yet it’s the acting that really propels the piece. Alda is poignantly narcissistic as Myles, and then appropriately aloof once Duncan’s spirit inhabits Myles’ body, while Jurgens makes a strong impression as a domineering diva during his few scenes. Parkins, whose dark beauty complements Bisset’s natural look, has fun playing a scheming witch, and Bisset lends a certain measure of emotional credibility to her various scenes of anguish and panic. Best of all, the movie twists and turns toward a perverse ending that almost justifies the movie’s overlong, 115-minute running time.

The Mephisto Waltz: GROOVY

Terror on the Beach (1973)

Dune-buggy riders on the rampage—why not? Two years after being menanced by a driverless 18-wheeler in the small-screen classic Duel (1971), lanky leading man Dennis Weaver found himself on the wrong end of a different set of wheels in this suspenseful telefilm. It should be said up front that Terror on the Beach is a tease, since it lacks the conviction to deliver a nasty ending in keeping with its menacing storyline, but there’s plenty here to entertain the undiscriminating viewer nonetheless. Weaver and Estelle Parsons play Neil and Arlene Gwyn, parents of a generic American family that also includes teenaged kids DeeDee (Susan Dey) and Steve (Kristoffer Tabori). Packed into their spacious RV, the Gwyns head to a remote beach for some quiet camping, but they soon realize they’ve picked the same spot as an aggressive youth gang that may or may not be a cult. Writer Bill Svanoe and director Paul Wendkos don’t worry too much about narrative credibility, providing only the thinnest explanations for why the Gwyns don’t flee during their many opportunities to do so, but the rote storytelling steers things down the exciting Straw Dogspath of a gentle man discovering his capacity for violence. (Richard’s inner brute surfaces once he realizes his wimmin-folk are at risk, so don’t look to Terror on the Beach for advanced thoughts on gender issues.) Aside from the leading performances, which are sufficiently florid to keep things lively, Terror on the Beach offers visual appeal thanks to Wendkos’ use of wide-angle lenses; when the movie’s really cooking, Wendkos portrays the rampaging gang members like Fellini-esque grotesques popping out from behind dunes. Throw in some creepy music and the inherent loneliness of a near-empty beach, and the piece starts to show some style. Plus, just to ensure there’s something for everyone, Wendkos keeps Dey’s figure on ample display. The Partridge Family beauty, who was around 20 when she made this picture, spends much of her screen time in a bikini, to the obvious enjoyment of the male gang members who ogle her.

Terror on the Beach: FUNKY

Footsteps (1972)

          Nominated for a Golden Globe as the best TV movie of its year, Footstepsis a hard-driving character drama set in the competitive world of college football. Yet instead of focusing on the tribulations of athletes, as is the norm for the genre, Footstepsexplores the psychology of a ruthless coach whose belligerence, drinking, and shady ethics have made him a pariah among top schools. Richard Crenna, putting his customary intensity to great use, stars as Paddy O’Connor, a cocky ex-player with a good record of guiding teams toward victory, but a bad record of holding onto jobs.
          When the movie begins, he arrives in a small Southwestern town to start work as a defensive coordinator at a regional college. Since the school’s head coach, Jonas Kane (Clu Gulager), once played for O’Connor, O’Connor bristles at taking orders from a former subordinate. O’Connor also angles for Kane’s job, sleeps with Kane’s secretary to get inside information, cozies up to a deep-pocketed sponsor (Forrest Tucker) in order to have a star player moved to defense, and makes passes at Kane’s girlfriend, beautiful drama teacher Sarah Allison (Joanna Pettet). For a while, O’Connor gets away with his behavior by delivering a winning season, but things come to a head when moral crises reveal how conscience sometimes inhibits ambition.

          Although it suffers from brevity, running the standard 74 minutes for a ’70s TV movie, Footsteps is quite solid. Featuring a script co-written by future Oscar winner Alvin Sargent, the movie has several compelling confrontations. Moreover, the O’Connor character is such a force of nature that it’s fascinating to parse how much of his act is bluster and how much is justifiable confidence. Though generally not the deepest actor, Crenna slips into this role comfortably and delivers a virile performance. The supporting cast is fine as well, with Bill Overton doing strong work as O’Connor’s star player. (Ned Beatty is wasted in a tiny role.) Veteran TV director Paul Wendkos accentuates the story’s inherent tension with tight compositions placing actors in close proximity, and the filmmakers employ trippy effects like solarization and split-screens to enliven big-game montages that were obviously cobbled together from stock footage.

Footsteps: GROOVY