It must have been about 1981 or so that my dad took sabbatical and worked a stint out of state for several months. My mom drove me and my brother through hill and dale, her old hometown (briefly), and a few more hills and dales, to go visit him.
She and dad went off on their own for a night, and Bro and I sat at dad's apartment, and watched The Manitou. Being a skittish kid, a horror movie was intensity itself, for me to contemplate and allow myself to experience, but it was a misty time when televised entertainment tended to be limited to three channels. One took what one could get. The Manitou it was.
Reading the link here, I remember this night as one I enjoyed a lot with my brother. Chicken as I was, and likely as I have always been to give myself over to the experience of even the worst, most ridiculous movies, I think we may have joked about this movie even as it was on. I do know we've joked about it a few times in the intervening decades. You can forget a lot of the finer points of a movie (such as, for Maud's sake, TONY CURTIS starred ... ?!??), but a neck fetus does sort of stick with you.
I have to admit. I want to see if they have this on Netflix for instant viewing. I think it might make a good diversion during a blizzard.
If I do find it, once some nice, juicy Hitchcock TV and housecleaning are on the way, I'll try to remember to come back with thirty-years-later comments on this old gem.
Or not-gem, as luck will have it.
Seriously. Tony Curtis!?
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