Homicidal

After fifteen years directing a string of B movies for Columbia, Universal, and Monogram, William Castle mortgaged his house and formed William Castle Productions in 1958. His first release, Macabre, was a modest thriller. To draw attention to the film, he offered every audience member a $1,000 life insurance policy from Lloyd's of London against death by fright during the film.[2] Castle promoted the film with TV commercials and previews that focused more on the life insurance policy than the film. The public bought it and the film was a financial, if not critical, success. William Castle added a gimmick to most of his films over the next ten years.

Actress Joan Marshall was cast in the dual role of Emily/Warren, credited under the stage name Jean Arless.[3][4] This led some publications to erroneously assume the part was her first credit.[5] Originally, Castle had intended to cast two different actors for the roles of Emily and Warren.[6] After auditioning for the role of Emily, Marshall returned to visit Castle at his office dressed as a man to audition for the part of Warren: "My secretary, not recognizing her, asked the man his name," Castle recalled. "The transformation was indeed astonishing."[6] Marshall's effective auditions for both parts convinced Castle to cast her in the dual role.[6]

Principal photography for Homicidal began on November 1, 1960, in Ventura and Solvang, California.[4] For her scenes playing Warren, star Marshall had her hair cut like a man's and dyed brown, wore brown contact lenses and had prosthetic appliances made to alter the shape of her nose, mouth and hands.[7]

Based on the success of Castle's previous films, Columbia Pictures agreed to implement his concept for a "Fright Break."[6] This entails a 45-second timer which overlays the film's climax as the heroine approached the house harboring a sadistic killer. A voice-over advised the audience of the time remaining in which they could leave the theater and receive a full refund if they were too frightened to see the remainder of the film. To ensure the more wily patrons did not simply stay for a second showing and leave during the finale, Castle had both numbered[4] and different colored tickets printed for each show.[8] About 1% of patrons still demanded refunds, and in response Castle decided to spotlight the people who chose to leave by creating a "Coward's Corner."[9] Print ads promoting the film emphasized this "Fright Break" gimmick.[10]

Fright Certificate

The "Coward's Corner" was a table with a nurse holding a blood pressure cuff.[9] John Waters described it in his book Crackpot.

He came up with "Coward's Corner," a yellow cardboard booth, manned by a bewildered theater employee in the lobby. When the Fright Break was announced, and you found that you couldn't take it any more, you had to leave your seat and, in front of the entire audience, follow yellow footsteps up the aisle, bathed in a yellow light. Before you reached Coward's Corner, you crossed yellow lines with the stencilled message: "Cowards Keep Walking." You passed a nurse (in a yellow uniform? ... I wonder), who would offer a blood-pressure test. All the while a recording was blaring, "Watch the chicken! Watch him shiver in Coward's Corner!" As the audience howled, you had to go through one final indignity – at Coward's Corner you were forced to sign a yellow card stating, "I am a bona fide coward." Very, very few were masochistic enough to endure this. The one percent refund dribbled away to a zero percent, and I'm sure that in many cities a plant had to be paid to go through this torture. No wonder theater owners balked at booking a William Castle film. It was all just too complicated.[8]

According to Castle, the gimmick worked "great," and that theaters earned an average of $20,000 weekly in box office sales, with only $100 in refunds.[4]

Multiple critics drew comparisons between Homicidal and Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho, released the year prior.[6] Time magazine said: "Made in imitation of Hitchcock's Psycho, it surpasses its model in structure, suspense and sheer nervous drive."[11] and placed it on its list of top ten films of the year for 1962. Other critics were not so kind. The New York Times said "Near the end of Homicidal, yesterday's horror entry at neighborhood theaters, the disembodied voice of William Castle, the producer-director, announces a 'fright break', during which the economy-minded viewers may return their tickets for a refund ... If the reprieve had come before the opening of this dismal imitation of Psycho and Mickey Spillane, it would have been a better idea."[12] New York Herald Tribune wrote that "Castle's shock effects are not so much of the weird or 'horror' as of the gruesome or blood-on-the-cummerbund variety."[12]

Though many critics were dismissive of Homicidal upon its release, the film has since garnered a cult following,[6] and is regarded as one of Castle's best films.[6] In The Psychotronic Video Guide (1996), Michael Weldon referred to the film as an "incredible experience," and it has also been championed by filmmaker John Waters.[6] Film scholar David Hogan wrote: "In a psychosexual sense, Homicidal was perhaps the most distressing Hollywood film until William Friedkin's numbing and misunderstood Cruising (1980)."[13] Hogan also cited it as Castle's best film despite being his "most derivative."[14] Douglas Brode echoed similar sentiments, remarking the film's "marvelous" pacing and sustainment of suspense.[15] However, Glenn Erickson from DVD Savant wrote that the film was "a perfectly wretched movie, bad enough to make Castle's other hits seem like flukes".[16]

Homicidal was released on DVD in North America by Columbia Pictures Home Entertainment in 2002.[16] It was made available again on DVD pressed on-demand by Sony Choice Collection on September 3, 2013.[17] On July 19, 2016, Mill Creek Entertainment released the film on Blu-ray as a double feature alongside Castle's Mr. Sardonicus.[18]