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ESSAYS, ARTICLES, AND THEORIES ABOUT CINEMA
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| Wednesday, May 6, 2009
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WILLIAM CASTLE: A GENIUS IN THE COWARDS CORNER |
Cinema was drastically suffering in the early Post-war era. An economic change relocated families to suburbs and away from big cities, which at the time hosted many movie theaters (Hendershot 73). The movies needed something new and enticing to pull audiences back to their seats. Throughout the 50’s, Hollywood director/producer William Castle not only brought audiences to theaters to see his “B-pictures,” but he left them literally screaming for more. Castle shaped a completely new style of experience. With assistance of an artistic carnival-like manor, he created ultimate gimmick-experiences. William Castle’s most famous and successful gimmick was scaring his audience into the “Coward’s Corner.”
He produced and directed B-pictures with instead of using the money for production, “he took the money off the screen and put into the audience” (The Fearmakers Collection). For his film Macabre (1958), Castle entitled it, “The Scariest Film Ever Made” and forced his audience to take out an insurance policy in case they died of fright (Harris). Another film, The Tingler (1959), he wired theater seats with buzzers, so when the organism, in the film, is released inside a theater, moviegoers received minor shocks, creating pandemonium (Waters 16). Although, it was the gimmick he used in his 1961 horror film Homicidal, that left audience members terrified – but for a completely different reason.
A year after Alfred Hitchcock scared audience members with his “No one admitted after the beginning” gimmick for Psycho (1960), William Castle felt the need to advance the gimmick into something horrifying (The Fearmakers Collection). Castle invented the “Coward’s Corner.” This was basically a booth in the lobby that was manned by a theater employee. In the film, Castle himself appears and informs the audience that it is time for a “Fright Break.” What happened was if an audience member felt too scared to continue watching the picture and wanted their money back, they had to get up in front of the whole audience, follow yellow footprints to a yellow pathway down the aisle and into a hallway, where a nurse would check the victim’s blood pressure. Over loud speakers in the hallway, a voice-recording (possibly Castle’s) would blare, “Watch the chicken! Watch him shiver in Coward’s Corner” (Waters 19)! At the end of the hallway, they were back in the lobby, where they were forced to sign a card stating, “I am a bona fide coward” and stand in the cardboard booth until the end of the film.
The effectiveness of the gimmick succeeded many expectations. For instance, the gimmick alone created fear of being ridiculed, therefore people were afraid to leave, hence, the movie made more money than it gave back (Waters 19). Just imagining terrified individuals holding on for dear life not to leave must have been quite a sight. It truly is humorous in a sadistic way. Audiences flocked from all over just for the gimmick, which in this case, was a challenge to withstand all eighty-seven minutes of the shocking Homicidal (The Fearmakers Collection).
The goal of the gimmick was, like all of Castle’s films, to frighten. His daughter, Terry Castle remembers her father as someone who “loved to scare people” (Harris 90). He accomplished this goal very effectively. Many times, he would stand in the ticket lines for his films to listen in on audience members talk about their expectation in order to prepare further gimmicks (The Fearmakers Collection). There was no predictability with him, because he always remained one step ahead of the audience. Specifically with the “Coward’s Corner,” he treated the audience as if they were lab rats and took joy in watching them squirm to get out of the maze. Fellow audience members also partook in this entertainment. The film became a usual thing, with people attending just to see if others really were scared to the point of humiliation (Waters 19). To the executives, the film made money, but to Castle, the film created fun. This was a real jolt from the usual movie-going experience. No one had seen anything like it.
William Castle strove for films and gimmicks that were new and exciting, something that is extinct in the profit-driven corporate Hollywood of today (Hendershot 73). More importantly, Homicidal included a gimmick that terrified audiences. Maybe today’s moviegoers need a different kind of shock. Cinema itself or its exhibition is not used to shock anymore. In a world filled with DVD’s and Internet access, the gimmick is pretty much extinct. Most audience members are not serious enough to handle the 1950’s intention of a gimmick. Instead of going for the thrill of experience, today’s cinema in America primarily exists to escape this world’s fear of terror. Perhaps it is time for an even more advanced gimmick to really stir up audiences. |
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posted by Will Lewis 7:09 PM
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