My World Dies Screaming (1958)

Best movie of this year hands down!

A different way of telling a story

In truth, there is barely enough story here to make a film.

It's the kind of movie you'll want to see a second time with someone who hasn't seen it yet, to remember what it was like to watch it for the first time.

This is a good film. Anyone who disses it doesn't know jack about good horror movies.Cathy O'Donnell deserved a solid career. She was always an understudy of sorts. This was possibly her finest film as her performance is first-rate. Scares abound in this movie, though some reviewers stupidly refer to it as a low-budget failure.Probably the most interesting thing about this film is that it was photographed in 'Psycho-Rama', a process which involved subliminal images of scary faces that flashed on the screen periodically.Recommended for horror film aficionados.

This is drive-in fodder. Cathy O'Donnell, born Ann Steel in Siluria, Alabama, appeared in some impressive movies in the post-war years -- "The Best Years of Our Lives" and "They Live By Night." The role of the girlish, loving figure fitted her. She was always winsome and delicate and had an attenuated but compelling beauty. She'd never have done "Mommie Dearest" or "MacBeth." She looks as youthful as ever here. Any normal man would want to mutter vacuous reassurances in her frightened ear, while cuddling her and biting her neck. Alas, she didn't have much of a life ahead of her and died at 48 of cancer and a stroke.Unfortunately, her husband here, Gerald Mohr, is only barely normal. You have to stretch the definition. He turns sinister the moment they arrive at the isolated mansion he's rented for them. He delivers his lines as if reading them for a male enhancement product and he has a high forehead. I immediately suspected him of being an illegal alien. All the aliens from outer space in the 50s drive-ins had overdeveloped frontal areas. But, no. I should have known. The aliens always have names like Gort, while his name is just plain Phil. His motives are benign. It's just that he believes in psychoanalytic mumbo-jumbo about repressed memories.Well, O'Donnell is scared to death of the house. This is not an old haunted mansion with cobwebs all over the place and Victorian tchotchkas on the shelves. It's a pedestrian modern house, only bigger than most. John Qualen has been the day caretaker but all he does is gulp, bug his eyes out, and act half crazy.The movie was shot in "Psycho-Rama," meaning there are instantaneous inserts of Halloween masks, unreadable subtitles, and other jokes. The 50s were the age of subliminal perception. The unconscious mind can grasp an image that's so brief that the rest of the mind doesn't see it. It seems to work, too, within limits but no one is playing with their stachistoscopes anymore.I won't get into the plot because it's so twisted I couldn't really follow it and because the entire movie is not worth the effort it would take to paper over the holes. O'Donnell gets to scream four times, I think, and faints once.It's hard to imagine what the kids were doing in their cars while this cheap and ill-written garbage unfolded on the drive-in screen. Maybe playing canasta.

Apart from the novelty of 'Psycho-Rama', I cannot see much reason to watch "My World Dies Screaming". It's a pretty bad film--with many reasons to dislike it."My World Dies Screaming" begins with Sheila (Cathy O'Donnell) working through some recurring dream with a hypnotherapist. However, like in all the other attempts, she is unable to see how this all ends. After her discharge, she is taken by her new husband, Philip (Gerald Mohr) to Florida ostensibly for their honeymoon. However, soon it becomes obvious Philip has some agenda, as he ends up taking her to the very same old home she keeps seeing in her dreams! What gives? This film has several serious problems working with it and the novelty of Psycho-Rama* isn't enough to save it. Cathy O'Donnell, who could deliver a nice performance (such as in "The Best Years of Our Lives") was just awful here--as she way overplayed her character. It was almost laughable when she emoted and the director SHOULD have coached her through this or re-shot the scenes. Other scenes he should have re-shot involved nighttime scenes--which ranged from daylight to dark night alternative--just like Ed Wood infamously did in "Plan 9 From Outer Space"! Additionally, the film alternated from very boring to being very, very talky. Most of the plot was actually explained near the end through exposition--a very, very sloppy indicator that the writer was not competent. All in all, I wanted a fun, campy horror film but it was only dull.*Psycho-Rama consisted of supposedly subliminal pictures appearing throughout the film--such as warnings that a scare is about to occur. With a DVD machine, it's easy to stop and see them clearly. However, in a funny twist, Rhino Video added one of their own--encouraging the viewer to watch more Rhino releases! Cute but also completely disproved to have any real impact on audience behaviors.

Although the practice of using subliminal advertising--that is, flashing messages on a movie or TV screen for a fraction of a second, too quickly to register with the human brain but capable of having a subconscious effect--was banned by television stations and by the National Association of Broadcasters in 1958 (and, years later, was claimed to be ineffective), it wasn't in time to prevent the first big-screen film from using the technique. That picture, originally released under the artier and more appropriate title "My World Dies Screaming," and years later, for home viewing, as "Terror in the Haunted House" (a somewhat misleading appellation), turns out to be an interesting enough little film that hardly requires this tiresome gimmick (presented as "Psycho-Rama" here!). In it, we meet a pretty newlywed, Sheila, who has been going to a psychiatrist in Switzerland to cure her of recurring dreams involving an old house, and, most particularly, of a flight of steps in that house leading to a cobwebbed attic. And when Sheila's new husband, Philip, brings her to America to stay at that EXACT SAME HOUSE, her nightmares become a living reality, and the viewer is thrown into a state of confusion about whether Philip is trying to help his new bride or, a la "Gaslight," perhaps drive her insane....For a cheaply made "B picture," "My World Dies Screaming" is surprisingly effective, and most of the credit for the film's success must surely go to Cathy O'Donnell in the lead. O'Donnell, who most viewers might remember from the 1946 classic "The Best Years of Our Lives" as well as for appearing in the cult item "They Live By Night" and the excellent film noir "Side Street" (both from 1949 and both costarring Farley Granger), is truly excellent here, lovely and appealing, and appearing in every single scene of the film. Gerald Mohr, playing Philip, gives a nicely ambiguous portrayal (many viewers will remember him from the following year's "The Angry Red Planet"), and the film's other three performers (Barry Bernard as Sheila's shrink, John Qualen as the house's uberstrange caretaker, and Bill Ching as Philip's cousin) are all fine as well. Harold Daniels directs his picture competently, eliciting chills on a regular basis, although it must be said that the film seems a bit eerier in its first half. Still, the mystery of Sheila's nightmares, and her familiarity with a house she's never been in, is a fascinating one, and keeps the viewer involved throughout; to the film's credit, the resolution of that mystery entails a surprisingly complex backstory that does manage to tie up every loose end. As to those subliminal messages, they ARE visible, although only a frame-by-frame viewing on your DVD player will reveal their contents. Basically, they consist of demon masks with the following captions: "Scream." "Scream Bloody Murder." "Prepare To Die." And "Die Die Die." (One message, very amusingly inserted by the DVD manufacturer, exhorts us to "Buy Rhino Videos Every Day"!) As I mentioned before, these flashes of...something become hokey after a while, and the film is good enough to stand on its own without them. It's nothing great, surely, but is an engaging entertainment nevertheless. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to wrap up this little review and run down to the grocery store. For some strange reason, I've just developed a sudden urge to purchase popcorn, Goobers and Raisinets....