Carnival of Souls is a cult classic "B" horror movie that I feel transcends its humble origins. It was the product mainly of an industrial film maker from Lawrence Kansas, Herk Harvey. Harvey was a proven talent for the sort of industrial films of the post-WWII period showcasing agricultural, industry, and business themes, promoting the qualities of Kansas among other topics. Though he worked several years in that capacity and received a number of awards, including an Academy Award nomination, he is largely, somewhat to his chagrin, known for this one venture into mainstream film and horror genre. His choice of making a horror film was a practical consideration since he felt that it would sell well and fund future, more interesting feature film projects.
Such was not to be however. Limited production funding, limited advertising, distribution by a lackluster company that later went out of business, and I would argue, being somewhat ahead of its time, doomed it nearly from the start. Carnival of Souls disappeared and its cast and crew thought that it had simply gone the way of many such failed attempts at movie-making.
It was the process of late night television coupled with word-of-mouth that resurrected Carnival and brought it back from obscurity. This started mostly in big cities like New York City but later spread across the country. It soon became a regular staple of late-night fare and was an often requested favorite for Halloween movie marathons. Reviewers "discovered" the film and praised its surreal qualities and Siskel and Ebert even listed it among the finest movies of its genre.
Carnival I think owes its relative success to a number of factors, many of them fortuitous measures taken by necessity, and just good timing in that it came back into focus when its qualities were able to be more appreciated. Herk Harvey was a proven no-nonsense veteran film maker who could bring a project to completion on time (useful for Carnival since it was shot with many of its principals on vacation from Centron, the company where Harvey worked). And having only a meagre budget, Harvey could make use of Centron equipment. And since he knew and was friends with many Centron employees, they could be approched to work on Carnival. Many locals and businesses in Lawrence also participated or allowed use of their facilities for free.
The acting in Carnival runs from either the credible to quirky, with some very awful wooden performances thrown in. The real star of the movie is the abandoned Saltair amusement park, site of filming for most of the one week that Carnival made use of location shots in and around Salt Lake City. Harvey had seen the Saltair driving through Utah and the image stood with him. It formed the seed of the idea he would pitch to veteran Centron writer, John Clifford. There is something so lonely and pervasive about such a huge abandoned space falling to ruin that was once intensely filled with hundreds of people day in and out. Some of the most haunting scenes of Carnival have Mary, the main character, wandering the empty edifices of the Saltair, strangely drawn to something she doesn't understand. There is no dialogue, only rich black and white cinematography and a wonderfully moody organ score (Mary is an organist, a necessary convenience since Lawrence was home to the organ factory shown in the film). The film makes use of awkward angles and stark yet beautiful images shot around Salt Lake and Lawrence to add to its creepy tone. Some of the most inspired, unusual, and hence most memorable shots were apparently managed and undertanken by Reza Badiyi, an assistant director who appears in an uncredited cameo. You might not know his name but you know his work. Badiyi would later go on to become one of the most prolific television directors in Hollywood and the list of his credits includes most of the successful shows of the past decades. But Badiyi's work for Carnival, some of it done at risk of injury, coupled with cinematographer Maurice Prather's practiced and yet for Carnival, ambitious eye, helps make Carnival stand apart from anything before, except perhaps the films of Cocteau, to which it has been compared.
The story has elements similar to other contemporary stories in shows like Twilight Zone. But if it is derivitive, it is also inspiring and Carnival has been linked to the ideas of later directors and writers like George Romero and John Carpenter. The story draws on feelings of not belonging and being out of tune with everything. Being disconnected with the world or things or people around us is something I think many of us have felt, but here it leads to an awful truth. And because the lead actress, Candace Hilligoss, insisted on applying her method acting process to her character, clashing at times with Harvey's insistence on a more distant portrayal, we are drawn in and can feel Mary's desperate desire to not be removed and her fear of the inevitable process pulling her unwillingly toward's the film's end.
There are many substandard versions of the film outstanding and it can be rented or even purchased as part of B-movie compilations. And though it was not an overlong film, it was cut drastically in several, if not most, of these. If you've never seen Carnival of Souls and would like to see the best example, do yourself a favor and hold out to rent or find the Criterion version, whose restored print stands as the best to date. This version also includes a lot of interesting background material for fans of the film, including a reunion celebration and documentary, touching in that all these people who worked so hard on a labour of love could receive some validation, years overdue, for what they had managed to achieve.
And, like all movie recommendations, take this one with a "grain-of-salt." It's not for everyone, so don't go out and buy it for your first view. If you watch it and go "Huh?" - then you're at least only out the rental fee. :-)
Such was not to be however. Limited production funding, limited advertising, distribution by a lackluster company that later went out of business, and I would argue, being somewhat ahead of its time, doomed it nearly from the start. Carnival of Souls disappeared and its cast and crew thought that it had simply gone the way of many such failed attempts at movie-making.
It was the process of late night television coupled with word-of-mouth that resurrected Carnival and brought it back from obscurity. This started mostly in big cities like New York City but later spread across the country. It soon became a regular staple of late-night fare and was an often requested favorite for Halloween movie marathons. Reviewers "discovered" the film and praised its surreal qualities and Siskel and Ebert even listed it among the finest movies of its genre.
Carnival I think owes its relative success to a number of factors, many of them fortuitous measures taken by necessity, and just good timing in that it came back into focus when its qualities were able to be more appreciated. Herk Harvey was a proven no-nonsense veteran film maker who could bring a project to completion on time (useful for Carnival since it was shot with many of its principals on vacation from Centron, the company where Harvey worked). And having only a meagre budget, Harvey could make use of Centron equipment. And since he knew and was friends with many Centron employees, they could be approched to work on Carnival. Many locals and businesses in Lawrence also participated or allowed use of their facilities for free.
The acting in Carnival runs from either the credible to quirky, with some very awful wooden performances thrown in. The real star of the movie is the abandoned Saltair amusement park, site of filming for most of the one week that Carnival made use of location shots in and around Salt Lake City. Harvey had seen the Saltair driving through Utah and the image stood with him. It formed the seed of the idea he would pitch to veteran Centron writer, John Clifford. There is something so lonely and pervasive about such a huge abandoned space falling to ruin that was once intensely filled with hundreds of people day in and out. Some of the most haunting scenes of Carnival have Mary, the main character, wandering the empty edifices of the Saltair, strangely drawn to something she doesn't understand. There is no dialogue, only rich black and white cinematography and a wonderfully moody organ score (Mary is an organist, a necessary convenience since Lawrence was home to the organ factory shown in the film). The film makes use of awkward angles and stark yet beautiful images shot around Salt Lake and Lawrence to add to its creepy tone. Some of the most inspired, unusual, and hence most memorable shots were apparently managed and undertanken by Reza Badiyi, an assistant director who appears in an uncredited cameo. You might not know his name but you know his work. Badiyi would later go on to become one of the most prolific television directors in Hollywood and the list of his credits includes most of the successful shows of the past decades. But Badiyi's work for Carnival, some of it done at risk of injury, coupled with cinematographer Maurice Prather's practiced and yet for Carnival, ambitious eye, helps make Carnival stand apart from anything before, except perhaps the films of Cocteau, to which it has been compared.
The story has elements similar to other contemporary stories in shows like Twilight Zone. But if it is derivitive, it is also inspiring and Carnival has been linked to the ideas of later directors and writers like George Romero and John Carpenter. The story draws on feelings of not belonging and being out of tune with everything. Being disconnected with the world or things or people around us is something I think many of us have felt, but here it leads to an awful truth. And because the lead actress, Candace Hilligoss, insisted on applying her method acting process to her character, clashing at times with Harvey's insistence on a more distant portrayal, we are drawn in and can feel Mary's desperate desire to not be removed and her fear of the inevitable process pulling her unwillingly toward's the film's end.
There are many substandard versions of the film outstanding and it can be rented or even purchased as part of B-movie compilations. And though it was not an overlong film, it was cut drastically in several, if not most, of these. If you've never seen Carnival of Souls and would like to see the best example, do yourself a favor and hold out to rent or find the Criterion version, whose restored print stands as the best to date. This version also includes a lot of interesting background material for fans of the film, including a reunion celebration and documentary, touching in that all these people who worked so hard on a labour of love could receive some validation, years overdue, for what they had managed to achieve.
And, like all movie recommendations, take this one with a "grain-of-salt." It's not for everyone, so don't go out and buy it for your first view. If you watch it and go "Huh?" - then you're at least only out the rental fee. :-)
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