One of my little pleasures in life is revisiting some of the scary TV movies from the 1970s. For the most part, they weren't particularly good, but they were often quite creative, sometimes even compelling; some were based on noteworthy works of fiction; and, despite relatively tiny budgets, they frequently showcased some decent acting talent. My favorite of the lot is certainly
Something Evil — Steven Spielberg's second directorial effort, circa 1971 — starring Darren McGavin, Sandy Dennis, Johnny Whitaker, Ralph Bellamy, and Jeff Corey. Between 1970 and 1978, there were scads of others that left lasting impressions on me. One of them is
The Bermuda Depths (1977), produced by Arthur Rankin and Jules Bass, best remembered for producing
Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964); the animated
King Kong series (1966–1969) and its companion film,
King Kong Escapes (1967, co-produced with Toho Studios);
Mad Monster Party (1967); and
Santa Claus Is Coming to Town (1970).
The Bermuda Depths is now available on DVD from the Warner Bros. Archive, and of course I had to snap it up. I only saw it on its first airing in 1977 or 1978, and all I really remembered of it were images of a giant sea turtle; an impossibly hot Connie Sellecca; and a vague, haunting quality that lingered more as a general feeling than as a specific memory. Seeing it again after all these years, it's easy to see why. It's a simple yet intriguing tale of a young man named Magnus Dens (Leigh McCloskey) who grew up on the island of Bermuda, met a mysterious young girl named Jennie, raised a newborn sea turtle with her, and lost his parents in an unexplained disaster. Years later, he returns to try to piece together what happened in his youth. He soon finds himself encountering the same girl, now a young adult, (Connie Sellecca). He joins up with an old college friend, Eric (Carl Weathers) and Dr. Paulis (Burl Ives), who are investigating crypto-creatures that reportedly thrive in the Bermuda Triangle. They turn up firm evidence that a gigantic sea turtle exists in the vicinity and set out to hunt the thing; along the way, Magnus becomes convinced that it — or one such monster from the deeps — killed his parents. When he tells Dr. Paulis about encountering Jennie Haniver, the girl he'd met as a child, Paulis tells him there's no such person; "Jennie Haniver" is simply a name made up by sailors for the legendary mermaid that supposedly frequents the local waters. However, Paulis's housekeeper, a native islander, tells Magnus the story of Jennie Haniver, who, in the 18th century, was a beautiful young woman who made a pact with the devil to stay young forever, and anyone who meets her is doomed. Naturally, he believes none of this, yet every time he meets Jennie, she appears and disappears mysteriously. He remembers that, when they were kids, he had etched his and Jennie's initials on their sea turtle's shell. Eventually, out, at sea, Magnus, Eric, and Dr. Paulis find the giant turtle, and Eric wounds it with a powerful harpoon. The beast retaliates by killing Dr. Paulis and Eric. At the end, Jennie saves Magnus, but he resolves to leave the island forever; as he sails away, he drops a necklace Jennie had given him years before into the sea, where we see the giant turtle, with Magnus and Jennie's initials on its shell now revealed.
Like many movies of its time,
The Bermuda Depths is a bit slow and ponderous, yet I find this particularly refreshing in light of ubiquitous contemporary films playing at short-attention-span theater. The musical score, by Maury Laws, is particularly emotive, and I'd love it if a soundtrack album were available for this movie. It's oftentimes reminiscent of Robert Cobert's
Dark Shadows themes, with swirling, reverberating flutes and punctuating, staccato brass. Rather than playing as eerie and foreboding, most of the music builds a wistful, romantic, occasionally tense mood. It suits the film's tone perfectly, and in fact is one of the reasons the movie has haunted me for so many years.
There's not a whole lot of acting going on in this picture, but this is really not much of a flaw. There are long passages of no dialogue whatsoever, leaving the music and imagery to propel the story. Magnus Dens is not your usual TV movie protagonist. He's moody, troubled, and, despite his tragic past, not particularly sympathetic. Burl Ives provides a sincere but vain attempt at gravitas; you just can't do much with lines like, "Magnus, you're a scientist... but you're also a human being." Regardless, it's kind of wrenching when Ives's character meets his end. I mean, that's the dude who voiced the kindly snowman in
Rudolph; you're really not supposed to go killing him. Ah, well, writers do what writers must, right? And really, it was for the best. A very young Carl Weathers is a little too exuberant as the intern marine biologist. As Magnus's only real friend, he tries very hard to convince us that some warmth exists in the relationship, since Magnus doesn't exactly have a lot in him, but it never does happen — though at the end, I did believe, whole-heartedly, that Magnus was all about saving Eric from certain death. Alas, too little, too late....
As I mentioned earlier, my most vivid recollection of this movie from my teenage years was Connie Sellecca all hotter than hot. Truly, in this film, she
is the most beautiful woman on Earth, and with one look, she effectively conveys both innocence and self-destructive vanity. She's the perfect actress to play the part of a doomed, beautiful woman willing to sell her soul for eternal youth. She doesn't have a lot of lines, and they're not necessary. Her body language is perfect, so to speak....
The Warner Archives DVD is bare-bones, but the print is decent, and after all these years, I'm ecstatic to have this thing in my eager little paws. Also on the way is the Rankin/Bass Production,
The Last Dinosaur, starring Richard Boone. I remember it being entertaining as all get-out, despite the very sad absence of Connie Sellecca from any of its frames....
