There's a particular kind of damp chill that permeates certain early 80s horror flicks, a feeling less of outright terror and more of pervasive, inescapable gloom. Mortuary (1982) wraps itself in that shroud, a film less concerned with relentless jump scares and more interested in soaking you in an atmosphere of grief, suspicion, and small-town secrets festering beneath a veneer of normality. It’s the kind of movie you’d stumble upon late at night on a grainy tape, the static perhaps mirroring the fractured narrative, leaving you with a lingering sense of unease rather than a jolt of adrenaline.
Beneath the Embalming Fluid
The setup feels deceptively familiar: young Christie Parson (Mary Beth McDonough, deliberately playing against her wholesome The Waltons image) is reeling from the supposed accidental drowning death of her father. But Christie suspects foul play, her grief twisted into paranoia. Her suspicions fall on seemingly respectable figures in town, particularly the operators of the local mortuary, Hank Andrews (Christopher George, a familiar face from genre fare like Pieces (1982)) and his unsettlingly odd son, Paul (Bill Paxton in an early, truly memorable role). As Christie and her boyfriend Greg (David Wallace) investigate, they uncover strange rituals, hidden passages, and the creeping certainty that something deeply wrong is happening behind the closed doors of the Andrews Mortuary. Doesn't that central image – the place where life definitively ends becoming the source of terror – still tap into a primal fear?
A Cast of Creeping Unease
While the plot might meander and occasionally confuse – a trait shared by many low-budget chillers of the era – the performances offer points of distinct interest. Mary Beth McDonough brings a necessary vulnerability and determination to Christie. It was a conscious effort to shed her 'Erin Walton' persona, a move many TV stars attempted in the 80s with varying degrees of success. Here, she grounds the film, making Christie's mounting fear feel genuine even when the script stumbles. David Wallace serves as a capable, if somewhat standard, concerned boyfriend.
But let's be honest, the real live wire here is Bill Paxton. As Paul Andrews, he delivers a performance crackling with bizarre energy. It’s twitchy, intense, and often wildly over-the-top, hinting at the manic charisma he’d later perfect in films like Aliens (1986) and Near Dark (1987). There's a story that Paxton fully embraced the weirdness, ad-libbing lines and movements that contributed significantly to Paul's unsettling presence. His character feels genuinely unpredictable, a chaotic element dropped into the otherwise somber proceedings. Is his performance the film's secret weapon, or just wonderfully strange? You decide.
Crafting the Chill on a Budget
Mortuary was directed and co-written by Howard Avedis, who often worked with his wife, co-writer/producer Marlene Schmidt (a former Miss Universe 1961, adding a curious layer to the production pedigree). Their collaboration resulted in several exploitation and genre films throughout the 70s and 80s. Shot for a modest budget (reportedly around $1.2 million), the film makes decent use of its California locations, particularly the imposing building used for the mortuary itself. The production design leans into the inherent creepiness of the setting – rows of coffins, gleaming embalming tools, shadowy corners.
While the practical effects aren't groundbreaking, there are moments that stick with you, particularly a séance scene drenched in eerie blue light that delivers a palpable sense of dread. The film sometimes feels caught between genres – part slasher, part psychological thriller, with hints of Giallo influence in its mystery structure and occasional stylistic flourishes. This ambiguity might frustrate some viewers looking for straightforward horror, but it also contributes to the film’s unique, slightly off-kilter identity. Remember how effective simple lighting and suggestion could be back then, before CGI took over?
Legacy in the Dust
Mortuary wasn't a smash hit, nor did it redefine the horror genre. It occupies that specific niche of early 80s horror that feels slightly out of time – less frantic than the slashers that would dominate the decade, more mood-driven, almost gothic in its preoccupations with death and hidden sin. It suffers from pacing issues and a plot that doesn't quite hold together under scrutiny. Yet, there's an undeniable charm to its moody atmosphere, its commitment to its unsettling premise, and, of course, Bill Paxton's unforgettable turn.
It’s a film that perfectly embodies the experience of pulling a forgotten gem from the video store shelf based purely on the evocative cover art (often featuring a skull-like visage looming over the mortuary). You didn't always know exactly what you were getting, but you knew it would likely be strange, probably a little flawed, but hopefully memorable. Mortuary delivers on that promise.
VHS Heaven Rating: 6/10
Justification: The film earns points for its genuinely creepy atmosphere, McDonough's earnest performance against type, and Paxton's delightfully unhinged contribution. The séance scene and the mortuary setting itself are effective. However, it loses points for a muddled plot, uneven pacing, and some narrative threads that don't fully resolve, preventing it from reaching the heights of the genre's best.
Final Thought: Mortuary is a flawed but fascinating slice of early 80s gloom-core horror. It’s a film that understands the inherent terror of its setting and isn't afraid to be weird, making it a worthy discovery for retro horror fans seeking atmosphere over outright shocks. It might just linger in your thoughts, like the faint smell of formaldehyde, long after the credits roll.