Night of the Demon

Masterful adaptation of an unsettling short story by Montague Rhodes James (“Casting the Runes”, 1911), “Night of the Demon” represents an enduring classic within the satanic genre, as well as one of the best overall horror films of its decade.

Rich in dark suspense and with atmosphere to burn, the film’s Lovecraftian plot is based on the assumption that what we perceive of reality is nothing more than the paltry tip of a gigantic iceberg, and a careless slip could send us plunging, becoming lost in a bubbling realm of darkness and mystery muddied by “evil, supernatural creatures“. The tools of reason prove incapable of penetrating such dismal gloom, which is why the dark matter that makes up the majority of the universe around us is destined to remain dark.

And so, fifteen years after his splendid horror trilogy (“Cat People”, “I Walked with a Zombie”, and “The Leopard Man”), the great Jacques Tourneur once again inveighs against the arrogance of the positivist man, born of a society of techne, who believes he can understand and master everything in the name of knowledge – scientific knowledge – that rises to the level of incontrovertible truth.

However, it should be emphasized that it’s not so much the edifice of science “tout court” that the French director is calling into question, but rather the obtuse radicalism that it can harbor. Dr. Holden is a clear incarnation of this radicalism, with his embittered skepticism leading him to firmly retreat into a position of stubborn pragmatism (“But logic, the reality of the seeable and the touchable, that’s what convinces me finally“). His is a position far distant from the one expressed by his more moderate colleague (“I know the value of the cold light of reason. But I also know the deep shadows that light can cast“).

All in all, this film feels very much like an homage to the oeuvre of Val Lewton for two major reasons. First, due to the themes tackled: the everyday nature of Evil, the eternal dichotomy between subject and object (“But where does imagination end and reality begin? […] “How can we differentiate between the powers of darkness and the powers of the mind?”), and the shadowy allure of the unknown. Second, due to more formal considerations: the way horror is suggested rather than shown, the brooding, angst-ridden atmosphere, and the key role assigned to shadows.

Finally, particular attention is devoted to the relational dynamics that entangle the various characters, whose credibility and three-dimensionality is further reinforced by a thorough psychological analysis aimed at clarifying their mindset and motivations (even Karswell turns out be a truly multifaceted antagonist).

Cast: two inspired leading men at the top of their game, with a Dana Andrews who’s never been better and a diabolically delightful Niall MacGinnis.

Worth seeing again and again.