cinema history class: don't go to sleep (1982)

The session: Creepy Kids!
Four weeks of films featuring creepy kids. Or is it creepy films about kids?

As always, there may be spoilers here. And the trailer may be NSFW and/or NSFL.

Week 4: Don't Go to Sleep (1982)
Directed by Richard Lang

My Level of Prior Knowledge
Never heard of it.

Plot:
Trying to get past the death of the eldest daughter, a grieving family move into a new home. But the daughter isn't quite ready to say goodbye.

Reaction and Other Folderol:
Don't Go To Sleep is one of those rare TV movies that makes you blink in disbelief at how far it pushes television boundaries. It's an endurance test—so relentlessly creepy and emotionally intense that you almost wonder how ABC signed off on airing this in prime time. It’s a slow-burn family horror story about ghostly revenge, full of nail-biting discomfort and well-earned chills.​

The story, at its core, is a revenge tale, with the vengeful ghost of daughter Jennifer wielding supernatural payback against her family—the very people she believes are responsible for her tragic death. What makes it smarter than the average TV shocker is how everyone clings to the refrain "It was an accident. It was nobody's fault." The denial and buried guilt hang over the family like a toxic fog, all while Jennifer picks them off one by one in ways that are quietly nightmarish. It's striking how each character feels some measure of responsibility, hinted at in their conversations and in the flashback reveal of the fateful prank in the car.​

In class, we had a lively discussion about the events of the movie are paranormal or psychological. My money's on the literal, ghostly interpretation; the evidence for Jennifer's actual supernatural revenge feels more compelling. But there's enough ambiguity, especially with Mary’s mental unraveling, that a "mass psychosis" reading is defensible, and that tension gives the movie extra depth.​

A particular strength is how Don't Go To Sleep skillfully suggests gore without ever crossing into explicit territory. That pizza-cutter scene is anxiety in its purest form—your mind fills in the horrors as Mary menaces the stairway, and the watermelon-smash moment is a classic metaphor for violence unseen. It’s a lesson in the power of suggestion, showing that a well-placed image or sound can provoke just as much terror as any graphic set-piece.​

The film always felt like it was operating far above the usual "TV movie" tier. A lot of that comes down to the tight, clever writing—dialogue crackles with resentment and suppressed guilt, and the plot manages to keep you guessing right up to the final chilling image. Even the opening credits use music pauses and ambient sound, like cars passing, to create palpable dread right from the start. And let’s not forget the sly touch with the house number: 13666, a string of bad luck capped by what every horror fan knows as "the mark of the beast."

Don't Go To Sleep proves that the right mix of writing, casting, and atmosphere can turn a made-for-TV movie into an unforgettable horror experience.

cinema history class: the others (2001)

The session: Creepy Kids!
Four weeks of films featuring creepy kids. Or is it creepy films about kids?

As always, there may be spoilers here. And the trailer may be NSFW and/or NSFL.

Week 3: The Others (2001)
Directed by Alejandro Amenabar

My Level of Prior Knowledge
Never heard of it.

Plot:
World War II has just ended, and a scared woman is living with her photosensitive children in a darkened mansion. She is sure the place is haunted -- and, in a sense, she's right.

Reaction and Other Folderol:

The Others starts out slow, but it’s the kind of slow burn that makes every creak and whisper in that sprawling mansion feel like it matters. It’s a gothic, foggy setup—the classic sort where half the suspense is watching Nicole Kidman lock down every room, hiding her photosensitive kids from the sunlight like some paranoid Victorian ghost hunter. Honestly, for a while, I found myself wondering if anything huge was going to happen, but the tension ramps up beautifully until that big twist.

Now, about that twist—it’s cut from the same cloth as The Sixth Sense, and, like that movie, you know something supernatural and game-changing is coming. I figured out early on that the family’s relationship to the ghosts was off, but I couldn’t quite peg exactly what was going on. When they finally reveal that Grace and her kids are actually the ghosts haunting the place, it’s wild to realize you’ve been rooting for the haunting instead of the haunted the whole time.

If you’ve seen The Changeling (which we did a week earlier), the similarities can’t be ignored. Both films play with haunted house architecture—staircases and endless, shadowy hallways that feel right out of an Escher drawing. I noticed that off-kilter, looping quality while watching, but I didn’t realize that it was intentional until Keith pointed it out afterwards. It did a great job of messing with my perception of space. It’s almost like The Others is The Changeling flipped on its head: in one, the living confront a dead presence; in the other, the dead realize the living are the intruders.

Villains? Not really. The Others, just like The Changeling and The Sixth Sense doesn’t give you an evil monster or nefarious ghost to hate. Everyone in that gloomy house is a victim wrestling with loss and confusion. Even the infamous séance scene feels like an homage—pulled straight from The Changeling (and appropriately reversed), right down to the frantic pacing and eerie detachment from reality.

Honestly, this movie should have been a modern classic, and it’s a shame it never reached iconic status. It came out in August 2001, and the timing—it was right before the world changed with 9/11—meant it got overshadowed and lost in the shuffle. Some of the film’s mysteries get left hanging, but it didn’t bother me. The strange, claustrophobic mood and gradual revelation kept me hooked, and by the end, the twist on the classic ghost story trope left me utterly out of breath.

The Others is worth revisiting, especially for fans of chilly, intelligent horror with atmosphere galore and a satisfying, eerie payoff.

cinema history class: the changeling (1980)

The session: Creepy Kids!
Four weeks of films featuring creepy kids. Or is it creepy films about kids?

As always, there may be spoilers here. And the trailer may be NSFW and/or NSFL.

Week 2: The Changeling (1980)
Directed by Peter Medak

My Level of Prior Knowledge
Never heard of it.

Plot:
After losing his wife and daughter, a composer moves into a remote mansion. There he finds he's not quite alone. As he investigates, he uncovers the house's dark secret.

Reaction and Other Folderol:
The Changeling grabs hold with suspense from the very start and absolutely refuses to let go; every creak of the sprawling mansion and every dark hallway left me clenched in nervous anticipation. Unlike so many horror films that lean on cheap scares, this haunted house story expertly builds tension through uncertainty and atmosphere, often making the most mundane moments intensely unnerving. Rarely has “waiting for the next shoe to drop” felt quite this electrifying—edge-of-your-seat is almost an understatement.

It's a wonder that The Changeling isn’t more famous, considering how well it outplays classics like The Exorcist in suspenseful storytelling. Much of the movie’s power comes from how it toys with expectations—a child’s presence looms early, leading to a quiet twist where the main character’s daughter steps aside and sorrow fills the space. You never quite know what’s lurking in the darkness, and the movie keeps cleverly misdirecting both its characters and audience right up to the chilling finale.

Even the supposed villain, Senator Carmichael, is handled with tragic nuance, becoming almost sympathetic as the truths of the haunting unwind. The Changeling does suspense so well it’s almost exhausting, and yet, that tension makes every scene impossible to look away from—this is the kind of horror that lingers long after the credits roll.