moonspinner55 Susan Strasberg plays a 28-year-old (!) with a big problem: she has a tumor on the back of her neck that has tripled in size in three days; even worse, she feels something moving around in it, as if it were a fetus (she's very relaxed about the whole thing...of course, the specialists at the hospital won't dare tell her they've never seen anything like it). Turns out the spirit of a 400-year-old Indian medicine man is using Strasberg as his conduit for a splashy reemergence--to seek vengeance for the slaughter of his people at the hands of the white man--leading phony psychic boyfriend Tony Curtis to enlist the aid of Native American shaman Michael Ansara to "fight fire with fire." Director William Girdler also co-wrote the script with Jon Cedar and Thomas Pope, an adaptation of Graham Masterton's novel (the type of book nobody would dare admit to reading); he approaches the ridiculous material with commendable seriousness--at least until the finale, which is pure camp. Good supporting performances from Stella Stevens as a medium and Burgess Meredith as a specialist in such matters, but Curtis and Ansara have to work hard to hide their embarrassment. *1/2 from ****

bregund I read The Manitou in the 1970s when it was first published, and I enjoyed the book, many of the scenes in the book were quite memorable since they stuck in my head all these years. Harry Erskine is a well-defined character, and the plot is engaging and moves pretty quickly. I actually never knew they made a movie until I saw it on Turner Underground on TV last night.First of all, the film is quite faithful to the book, much of the dialogue and the scenes are lifted right from the pages. And you can't go wrong with San Francisco, point the camera in any direction and you have your backdrop. I think Tony Curtis makes a decent Harry Erskine, but the clothes they have him wearing are a little ridiculous, oh well, it was the 70s. Michael Ansara makes a perfect Singing Rock, and unfortunately just about any 70s actress could have played Karen Tandy, since she is largely a host for all the mayhem that follows. Even Burgess Meredith shows up as an anthropologist, lending the film some much-needed plausibility.So what's wrong with the film? Even though the book was entertaining, some things just don't translate to film; the idea of the white man's manitou for example, which is carefully explained in the book, is impossible to portray visually without appearing laughable. And the makeup for the native American witch doctor is awful; we're supposed to be terrified of him, but the director stages the scene with incongruous and implausible behavior by the actors: for example, the witch doctor is standing there, within the circle which he cannot break, and a bored orderly is assigned to "guard" him, while the bloodied body of another orderly lies in the corner covered with a sheet. The doctor threatens to call the police on the witch doctor. The witch doctor sends a superimposed human being in a lizard suit after the hospital doctor. Despite traveling hundreds of miles to see Karen, and fully aware of the witch doctor's imminent "birth", Singing Rock isn't watching over Karen, he's fast asleep while the witch doctor emerges from her back. None of it works.With better acting, directing, screen writing, and effects, this could have been a standout movie; as it is, it's the film equivalent of disco music: fun and flashy but ultimately empty. I think this film is ripe for a remake, if they're not considering it already.

Neil Welch In commemoration of Tony Curtis' sad passing yesterday, I thought I would use it as a reason to visit one of my guilty pleasures.The Manitou was a horror novel hacked out (not to put too fine a point on it) in the early 70s by horror pulp novelist Graham Masterton. The story concerns the girlfriend of a small-time stage magician and psychic con artist called Harry Erskine, who finds herself with a mysterious growth on her neck. The growth turns out to be the reincarnation of malevolent native American demonic shaman Misquemacus, who has bad things in mind. Harry, enlisting the aid of untried medicine man John Singing Rock, becomes reluctant hero and joins battle.This sounds fairly daft (and is), but it works fairly well on the printed page. This film adaptation, with Curtis as Erskine, translates it fairly faithfully to the screen, at which point you realise what a load of preposterous old tosh it actually is. Having said that, it has moderate production values, and is played straight albeit with a twinkle in its eye, and is entertaining if you are prepared to crank up the suspension of disbelief (and, let's face it, if you've sat down to watch it then that's probably the case).Curtis had five phases to his career. There was an introductory phase, where he got by on cheesecake good looks while learning his trade. Then the second phase saw him garnering respect in movies like Spartacus and Some Like It Hot. The third phase was a plateau which included critical successes like The Boston Strangler and crowd pleasers like The Great Race. The fourth phase was a slow and graceful decline, encompassing high profile TV series The Persuaders and low rent (but relatively high budget) potboilers like The Manitou. Finally, having retired to all intents and purposes, he popped up for the odd cameo here and there.It was a successful and well structured career, the career of a man who entered it based solely on his looks, but who had sustained success in it based largely on his talent, skill, and ability to learn.He will be missed.

BA_Harrison When the immortal spirit of Misquamacas, a 400-year old medicine man, selects the neck of Karen Tandy (Susan Strasberg) as the ideal place to be reborn, her ex-boyfriend (and professional mystic) Harry Erskine (Tony Curtis) enlists the help of Indian magic man John Singing Rock (Michael Ansara) to help try and defeat the evil creature.Although Graham Masterton's very creepy supernatural story The Manitou works brilliantly on paper, it doesn't translate quite so well to the big screen, with it's more grotesque and absurd moments appearing laughable rather than horrifying. That said, this film is still hugely enjoyable thanks to its somewhat camp/trashy vibe, bonkers special effects laden ending, and fun performances from a talented cast (that also includes Stella Stevens and Burgess Meredith in supporting roles).Curtis, as the film's unlikely hero, is great, putting in a deliberately theatrical performance that veers from semi-comedic buffoonery to stoic heroism, and he is given solid support from Ansara; however, Strasberg isn't really required to do much other than look scared and scream (oh, and flash her tits during the finalé). Stevens, however, is worthy of note, giving a decent turn as a medium who decides to give up the business after a face-to-face encounter with the evil Indian spirit.The film's special effects range from the very impressive to the quite embarrassing: Tom Burman's deformed shaman make-up is damn creepy and Misquamacas' eventual emergence from Karen's massive tumour is nice and gloopy (also, keep an eye out for a terrific blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment when a frozen nurse gets her head knocked off!!!); in contrast, the optical effects during the film's climax are utter rubbish—cheesy blue-screen stuff, a few trippy kaleidoscopic visuals, and some lousy lightning bolts.It's a damn shame that The Manitou wasn't a huge success, because it might have kick-started a series of Masterton movies in the same way that Carrie did for Stephen King. If you haven't read any Masterton, I highly recommend his novels; The Pariah, in particular, would make a superb film if tackled in the right manner.