A lot of Mystery Science Theater 3000 movies contain worthy concepts sabotaged by low budget or poor execution - with a little effort, they could have edged into being decent-to-good movies. The Touch of Satan (1971) definitely falls into this category: a weird little indie curio, it establishes an unsettling atmosphere before flailing around helplessly for 90 minutes, unsure what to do.
Footloose twenty something Jodie Thompson (Michael Berry) takes a cross country drive, then stops on a back road in California. He meets Melissa Strickland (Emby Mellay), a pretty young woman who lives with two ranchers (Lee Amber and Yvonne Winslow) and senile senior Lucinda (Jeanne Garson). Jodie falls for Melissa, but grows unsettled by her housemates, the unwelcoming townspeople and Melissa's "joking" suggestions that she's a witch. The immediate problem is Lucinda, who is less senile than psychotic, with a nasty habit of filleting neighbors with farming implements. Melissa tells Jodie that she and Lucinda (actually her sister) made a pact with Satan long ago, and that only Jodie's love can free her. But they have to defeat Psycho Granny and face up to Melissa's past first...and even that might not do the trick.
The Touch of Satan initially received a tiny release as the second item on drive-in double bills, then got a wider re-release after The Exorcist established a market for satanic horror flicks. Like many cheap horror movies it floated in the ether for years: released under a variety of titles (The Curse of Melissa and Night of the Demon) and various cuts (some with explicit nudity and violence, others relatively tame), it was a drive-in staple that even accrued its own lore. Satan's stars vanished into the B Movie abyss, while director Don Henderson became so obscure that rumor claimed he was Billy Jack auteur Tom Laughlin under a pseudonym! All of which gives Satan an allure that the actual movie fails to possess.
Credit Henderson for at least establishing a unique aesthetic. After a curtain-raising nocturnal murder scene, Satan spends most of its time in the brightly lit California sunshine; cinematographer Jordan Cronenweth (Blade Runner) creates an ethereal look that seems both eerie and inviting, turning the Santa Ynez Valley into a bit of paradise. This simple but effective contrast between pretty scenery and sordid goings-on almost carries the movie on its own. At one point Granny Lucinda skewers a deputy (Lew Horn) in broad daylight, with Henderson and Cronenweth counterpointing the violence with lingering shots of the farm and a well-executed 360 camera shot, as Melissa agonizes over how her chance at redemption's been ruined. If the rest of Satan were as effective as that sequence, it would be a minor classic.
Unfortunately, Henderson's direction generally ranges from pedestrian to bafflingly bad. Scenes drag far beyond what's needed to establish tension, with the actors offering comically long pauses between line deliveries (something the MST3K crew gleefully skewers). This isn't helped by James E. McLarty's epically banal dialogue: how much pathos can anyone wring from lines like "This is where the fish lives!" and "I love you, even if the Devil took your soul"? Parts of Satan play like an Antonioni exercise in alienation, with pitchfork grannies replacing angsty Italians, but that hardly seems intentional. After all, Jodie and Melissa's relationship is presented with such painful sincerity that only emphasizes how hapless they are; what should be a romance that transcends time feels like history's most boring two-day fling.
But the real letdown is the script, which never explains key plot points and character connections to the audience. Who are Luther and Molly, since they obviously can't be Melissa's parents? Why is Melissa eternally young while Lucinda shriveled into Grandma Dried Apple Head? Jodie meanwhile is an inert moron: there's a suggestion that he's bewitched by Melissa, but he seems like a dolt for not bolting once he encounters Lucinda lurking in his bedroom, at the very latest. The leads' interactions with the townspeople (a gas station attendant fretting about "fromacidal maniacs," the easily spooked grocery shoppers) are cartoonishly broad, while the lethargic flashback features the least-motivated witch-burning mob in history. Satan ends on a note that would be ironically tragic if we felt invested at all, instead of invoking bad laughs as an old lady catches fire like flash paper.
Henderson doesn't help by casting no-name performers, who can't make much from the material. It's hard to blame Emby Mellay (who only made one other, equally forgettable movie) for not selling dialog that might defeat Meryl Streep; she's pretty, reads her lines well enough, but generally comes across like an earnest community theater star. Michael Berry is similarly handed an unplayable part, and offers little more than bland '70s handsomeness. Lee Amber, Yvonne Winslow and Lee Horn give professional character turns, with Amber getting one strong moment of mourning over a murder victim, before switching gears into cover up mode. Jeanne Gerson's role is defined entirely by hideous make-up and ability to swing a hay hook. Robert Easton, the dialect coach-character actor, enlivens the flashbacks as a redneck witch hunter.
The Touch of Satan is far from the worst movie featured on Mystery Science Theater 3000. Certainly it has filled its brief over the years as a placeholder on double bills and undemanding Saturday night cable fodder, and it's possible to admire, or at least respect some elements of it. But it's also possible to oversell an underachieving B Movie as a hidden gem; far from a cult classic, Satan is rather forgettable.
