Every once in a while, I see a movie I should’ve seen a long while ago. The Night of the Hunter is one such film. Knowing little about it, I watched and was floored. Not only could I have used it in Holy Horror (oh boy, could I have!), it uncovered a bit of cinema history for me. Even just the words “love” and “hate” tattooed on Harry Powell’s knuckles have been referenced in so many places that I felt like I’d been missing a vital clue all along. Since the movie’s now available on free streaming services, there’s no reason not to see it. Although not generally considered horror, it is one of the genuinely scary movies of the period. And it’s a strong blend of religion and horror, even if classified as a “thriller.”
Taking inspiration from a true story, the “Bluebeard” character of Harry Powell is a serial killer. Styling himself as “the preacher,” he murders widows for their money. An avowed misogynist, he’s driven purely by greed and love of violence. Yet everyone accepts him—except children—for what he says he is during the Depression era. He gives sermons, sings hymns, and leads revivals and even his victims come to believe what he says about himself. This is such a good commentary on the thoughtless acceptance of religion that it’s no wonder that it was a flop in the fifties. Since then it has become considered one of the greatest movies of all time by many. The seamless weaving of terror and religion hearkens once again to the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Some lessons we never seem to learn. Nobody likes to admit to having been fooled.
In character, the closest comparison I could make would be Cape Fear, which stars the same Robert Mitchum as villain. That movie I saw in time to include in Holy Horror. In this one, the only adult who seems capable of seeing through Powell’s lies is a religious widow who informally adopts stray kids during the Depression and raises them with the Bible. She also keeps a shotgun handy, just in case. The image of the preacher slowly approaching, singing “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms,” is the stuff of nightmares. I suspect that one reason that seminaries developed in the first place is that the laity weren’t encouraged to trust self-proclaimed religious teachers. Of course, the town turns on the preacher once they learn, because of the children, who he really is. If, like me until today, you haven’t seen Night of the Hunter, I can recommend it. Especially if you have an interest in how horror and religion cooperate so nicely.
