Editorials
BBC’s ‘The Stone Tape’: A Scientific Ghost Story for Christmas [Horrors Elsewhere]
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.
Nothing quite evokes a bodily chill like a good ol’ fashioned ghost story. And as far as the British are concerned, the best time to share them is at Christmas. This tradition can be traced to the Victorian ages when spectral scares came back into fashion after nearly dying out. That is until book publishers found success with ghostly content, including the commercial hit A Christmas Carol. As society continued to grow, so did telling ghost stories during the holidays.
Books, films, and plays have all done their part in keeping the practice of Christmas scares alive and well, but for British audiences today, television has been a consistent storyteller. The BBC alone has endorsed holiday horror since the sixties; an adaptation of M. R. James’ ‘Oh, Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad‘, from the TV anthology Omnibus, inspired a new tradition called A Ghost Story for Christmas. For the next decade until a 27-year hiatus, the network’s Christmas programming included an annual production focused on supernatural disturbances. One of which, The Stone Tape, is widely considered the best of its kind. Although not an official entry in BBC’s strand of yuletide horrors, the 1972 television-play matches the same frightful tone.
The Stone Tape starts with Jill Greeley (Jane Asher) driving up to her new worksite at an old, Victorian mansion called Taskerlands. The preexisting dread painted all over her face only grows as her car becomes trapped by two moving trucks. When neither truck responds to a series of warning honks, Jill’s vision blurs as if the walls are closing in on her. She finally panics and backs into a nearby pile of sand, narrowly escaping what might have been a crushing death.
Peter Brock (Michael Bryant), the man in charge of this predominantly male research team for Ryan Electronics, takes both Jill and the estate manager Roy “Colly” Collinson (Iain Cuthberston) to a large room lined with stone walls. While the rest of Taskerlands has been refurbished, this one room remains untouched due to the fact that the contractors refuse to go near it. They fear the legends that surround this part of the house. Left on her own in the same room, Jill then hears a guttural scream accompanied by a vision of a frightened woman on the staircase.
After investigating the house’s haunted history, Peter and his colleagues stumble upon a groundbreaking medium that would put them ahead of their Japanese competitor. Peter theorizes the female ghost, an undermaid named Louisa Hanks, is really an image preserved by the stones in the room. He soon relocates his team to the room in hopes of gathering evidence of this technological breakthrough, but their equipment records nothing. At the same time, though, their activity has awakened something.
The British fascination with ghost stories stems from an innate sense of paranoia toward threats of foreign origin. For example, the Victorian middle class especially felt imperiled by external forces beyond their control. This of course led to both oral and written tales of supernatural invasion and unrest. In The Stone Tape, the male characters are bothered by the idea of the Japanese beating them to the finish line of a technology race. Peter and his associates’ intense desire to win is fundamentally one way of protecting the homeland. In the same breath, Peter ignores his own region’s customs and throws all caution to the wind as he overhauls the entirety of Taskerlands. He kicks in a wall in the ill-fated room, never once asking himself why the contractors are hesitant and why the wall was put in place to begin with.
The nature of the haunting is as intriguing as it is enlightening with respect to the characters’ dispositions. When the researchers begin their recordings in the room, they capture nothing. Yet Jill and her peers indeed hear a ghostly scream in some form or another. A man who played in Taskerlands as a child hears something different when he visits the room; he picks up on the sound of rats. Again, nothing is recorded on the modern equipment. These situations suggest people are hearing what they expected to hear; the Ryan employees anticipate a woman’s scream like Jill reported, whereas the other man heard the rats from his childhood. Of all Jill’s coworkers, Stewart (Philip Trewinnard) hears absolutely nothing because he does not believe in the ghost. The haunting here is what someone makes of it, in a manner of speaking.
From the first moment Jill appears on screen she does not hide her feelings; from surviving a near-death experience to understanding her complicated fling with Peter, her on-again-off-again partner. Even as the other woman in her relationship, Jill wants to feel cared about. With Peter, she knows she will never come first — at best she comes third with his family and job surpassing her. Similar to Louisa atop the stairs, crying in pure agony as something ghastly and unknown bears down on her, Jill is trapped in her rawest emotions. That current state of mind then impels her to help someone else unable to move on from their ordeal. Unfortunately there is not much she or anyone can do for Louisa. As Colly says at one point: “A living person in that pain, you can try and help them. Here you can’t.”
With so much emphasis on the science, The Stone Tape shows signs of sterility and overthought. Conversely, writer Nigel Kneale implies paranormal matters cannot be approached with only logic and technique. There must be heart as well. As seen in the character of Jill, it takes a certain level of empathy to experience the haunting. Even when others hoped to use Louisa’s trauma for their own personal gain, Jill looked to help using both her emotions and her scientific skill. In the end, though, that same sensitivity is what causes Jill’s downfall and turns her into a human medium of sorts. Without her realizing it, Jill is “following in Louisa’s footsteps.”
The Stone Tape sets itself apart from its contemporaries by having a modern setting and story. It does retain the cursory Christmas element — a former resident’s letter to Father Christmas is discovered in the walls — as well as the familiar venue of an eldritch, Victorian home, albeit gutted and renovated. The script is unique as it is mired in technospeak, and it observes a realistic paranormal theory still in effect today. On the other hand, programs in A Ghost Story for Christmas are more keen on not explaining the otherworldly occurrences and letting the hauntings run their course with more emphasis on effect than cause. Much like the character of Peter, though, The Stone Tape dodges mystery and wants answers. Other genre narratives with overdrawn explanations run the risk of lacking in wonder, yet Kneale composed a creative, thoughtful, and intimate tale rich in the same bitterly cold anxiety inherent to all Christmas horror.
Horror was permanently changed in 1984 when Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street unleashed Freddy Krueger on the world. This brutal boogeyman pushed horror to exciting new places, but so much of the character’s impact is the result of Robert Englund’s quintessential performance.
Englund has a long and storied career as a performer that’s covered far more than horror alone. However, there’s such a sublime, sinister synergy between Englund and this heightened genre that’s made him one of horror’s most revered names.
Englund is set to scare audiences again as a malevolent reimagining of Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio Unstrung, but he’s also been responsible for many more macabre monsters.
The Cricket (Pinocchio Unstrung)
Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey has somehow spun a morbid experiment in public domain exploitation into its own cinematic universe, the Twisted Childhood Universe. There’s been increasing promise in the TCU’s various films, which has also led to a growing list of capable horror guest stars, such as Roger L. Jackson, Richard Brake, and now Robert Englund. Englund is by far the most impressive name to attach himself to one of these movies, and Pinocchio Unstrung certainly doesn’t squander the opportunity to have him on board as its terrifying take on Jiminy Cricket. Englund’s performance as “The Cricket” in Pinocchio Unstrung becomes a sinister subversion of the classic character who is meant to function as Pinocchio’s conscience and moral compass.
Englund’s Cricket is instead the ultimate instigator who perpetually pushes Pinocchio into greater violence that condemns humanity and its many misgivings, rather than idolizing all the “real boys” in the world. Pinocchio Unstrung is a love letter to practical effects and old-fashioned animatronics and puppetry. This means that Englund just provides the voice for Cricket, but it’s still a deeply sinister performance and one of the most unnerving characters to appear in the Twisted Childhood Universe. Once again, Englund is careful not to just repurpose his Freddy Krueger persona, and he instead develops an original voice that plays into past renditions of the character. There’s a palpable rage and disdain in Englund’s Cricket that turns him into a threatening loose cannon and makes the audience forget that he’s only a few inches tall.
The Phantom of the Opera (The Phantom of the Opera)
The Phantom of the Opera is a foundational horror story that’s still being explored over a century later. 1989’s cinematic adaptation of Gaston Leroux’s 1910 classic doesn’t always get the respect that it deserves, despite it containing one of Englund’s most nuanced horror performances. Directed by Dwight H. Little, who previously helmed the underrated Halloween 4, The Phantom of the Opera operates as a gorier take on Leroux’s source material that feels like a lost Hammer Film picture. The titular Phantom is the perfect role for Englund following A Nightmare on Elm Street, and his participation in the picture was initiated by Englund promising his agent that he’d do another horror project after Elm Street’s success.
Englund was excited to tackle an iconic character who had previously been portrayed by formative horror legends like Herbert Lom, Claude Rains, and Lon Chaney. Englund beautifully fits the mold and is sublime casting for this ‘80s take on the character. Englund taps into a powerful dichotomy between the Phantom’s brutal and tragically sympathetic nature. It’s a role that’s significantly deeper than Freddy Krueger and better explores Englund’s range as an actor, which helps get him away from cheesy one-liners. It also doesn’t hurt that Little concocts a uniquely twisted take on the Phantom’s disfigurement, which was achieved by sewing human skin onto Englund’s face. The modern-day sequences that bookend the film were meant to tie into a planned sequel, The Phantom of the Opera 2: Terror in Manhattan, which unfortunately never came to fruition.
Victor Creel (Stranger Things)
Love it or hate it, Stranger Things assembled some impressive guest stars that took advantage of their respective legacies as ‘80s genre legends, such as Linda Hamilton, Matthew Modine, Cary Elwes, and Robert Englund. Englund’s turn as Victor Creel in the streaming hit’s fourth season is one of the series’ best performances and a role that rises above the mediocrity around it. Victor Creel is an opportunity for Englund to actually subvert expectations and play against type. It’s brilliant casting that initially conditions the audience to be wary of Creel and view him as a frightening threat. This perception is reinforced when Creel is encountered in a psychiatric ward and horrifically blinded.
Creel’s disturbing eye-gouged appearance is revealed to actually be a symptom of his tragic life and the psychological torment he received from Vecna. Creel is hard to look at, but there’s nothing to fear about him. He’s led a sad life that’s filled with inescapable guilt. He’s more like one of Freddy Krueger’s victims than Freddy himself. Englund goes above and beyond as Victor Creel, and the emotional monologues that he delivers are among some of the actor’s best work and proof that Englund’s still got it.
Marquis de Sade (Night Terrors)
Tobe Hooper’s Night Terrors is a particularly forgettable ’90s horror film that faced a litany of production problems and changes that certainly didn’t do it any favors. The story is a mess, even for a Cannon Video production, but it provides the novelty of Englund pulling double duty as the cruel Marquis de Sade and his modern day descendant, Paul Chevalier. Night Terrors banked on the novelty of Hooper directing Englund as one of history’s greatest monsters, and his performance is easily the best thing about this movie.
There’s an unabashed glee to Englund’s work as the Marquis de Sade that’s reminiscent of Freddy Krueger’s twisted jubilation over his creative murders, yet it doesn’t just feel like a carbon copy of Englund’s iconic role. There’s an appreciated degree of restraint going on before the film goes off the rails and incorporates supernatural elements and abstract dream sequences. Chevalier and his modern cult worship the Marquis de Sade as a deity of torture and liberation. The nightmare sequences that involve the Marquis de Sade are the most chilling and make this figure look as frightening on the outside as he is on the inside. There’s enough to latch onto here, even if the film as a whole is a mess, and Englund doesn’t squander the opportunity to play two sides of the same creepy coin.
Scarecrow (Injustice 2)
Robert Englund is no stranger to voiceover work, and he’s voiced his share of macabre and memorable characters over the years. That being said, one of his most inspired roles is the work that he did in NetherRealm’s dark DC Comics-based fighter, Injustice 2, where he plays Jonathan Crane, better known as the Scarecrow. There’s a certain tongue-in-cheek brilliance to having Englund voicing the Batman rogue who is the self-appointed “Master of Fear.” There’s certainly a meta quality to Englund’s casting here, right down to how some of his dialogue explicitly references Freddy Krueger one-liners like “Welcome to your nightmare” and “Now I’m playing with power.”
Englund doesn’t just phone in this performance or replicate his work as Freddy. The actor cultivates a unique voice for Scarecrow that cuts to the core of this character in a menacing manner. Englund’s Scarecrow is raspy, erratic, and honestly one of the better takes on Dr. Crane. It makes one wonder what he’d be able to accomplish if he were playing the part in live-action. He takes a simple role and breathes fresh life into it. Curiously, it’s not his first time playing a Batman villain. He does comparably interesting work as The Riddler in The Batman and the more obscure sorcerer, Felix Faust, in Justice League.
Evil Bloodthirsty Brian (The Hughleys)
There’s a surprising relationship between horror icons and sitcoms, with Robert Englund being no stranger to adding a devious dose of terror to a farcical comedy. Englund shows up as a playful take on Lucifer in Married…with Children, but he also provides a genuinely chilling performance in the first season of The Hughleys. Season one’s “Storm O’ the Century” is centered around the Hughleys and Rogerses getting stranded at a seemingly haunted hotel during an intense blizzard.
“Storm O’ the Century” functions as a proper love letter to horror fans, with genre guest stars that include The Addams Family’s John Astin, The Shining’s Shelley Duvall, and Robert Englund as the comically-named Evil Bloodthirsty Brian. The episode certainly prioritizes its comedy, but it manages to also be legitimately creepy thanks to a locked-in performance by Englund. He’s used sparingly, but always to punctuate a particular scene and function as a jump scare. Evil Bloodthirsty Brian sports a ghastly scar and has a look that’s just frightening enough to be included on a ’90s sitcom. Anyone who is curious about Englund’s performance can check it out for free on Tubi.
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