Classic Horrors Club

Had you asked me last night after I finished watching The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre (1964), I would have said I was disappointed and that the movie was extremely slow-moving. Today, I can’t stop thinking about it and am about to march into the living room and watch it again! It has really gotten under my skin.

In a plot that reminds me of The Premature Burial (1962), a woman who was terrified of being buried alive had a phone placed next to her coffin in the mausoleum so she could call for help should she awaken. Months later, her son, Henry Mandore (Tom Simcox), begins receiving calls from the phone and is convinced he’s being haunted by her ghost.

His wife, Vivia (Diane Baker) hires Nelson Orion (Martin Landau), architect by day, paranormal investigator by night, to help. She doesn’t believe in ghosts, but believes Nelson can help her husband. Nelson is specific about what he can and can’t do in his part-time job, but he believes in the facts, and the facts may sometimes include ghosts.

They didn’t in Sierra de Cobre, though, where Nelson disproved that the death of a school teacher was due to supernatural forces by finding poison in her blood. The superstitious townsfolk didn’t believe him, so their reaction still haunts him. He carries the experience with him and it plays a big part in his current investigation.

The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre never seems to be what you think it’s going to be. While a terrific hook, the phone calls from beyond the grave soon take a back seat to other potentially supernatural events. We witness these ourselves, but the fine details remain subtle. It doesn’t spoon feed its revelations. It’s a thoughtful horror film.

Written, produced, and directed as a potential TV series by Joseph Stefano, who wrote Psycho (1960), I saw parts of that great film in it everywhere I looked. From Henry replying to the voice on the phone by saying, “Mother, what do you want? Why do you do this?” to an old woman charging someone with a knife, the only thing missing is a shrieking strings score.

I’m not saying it needs it. Ranging from a tune that could have been the series’s theme, to bizarre tones during the scary moments, the music by Dominic Frontiere (The Outer Limits, 1963-64) is creepy and unique all on its own. Add to that the sound effects when apparitions appear voicing guttural howls of despair and you have an effective soundtrack.

It also looks great in what is truly glorious black and white. I’m not sure how much of that is due to the work Kino Lorber did on it when it was discovered and restored, but it’s crisp and clean with sharp contrast. The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre originally aired as a shorter version called, The Haunted, but footage was added to make a full-length movie. It looks and feels like a theatrical production.

Part of why it’s grown on me and I want to watch it again is that I’m certain I missed things that would add even more depth to the story. The dialogue is composed of few words, but they carry more meaning than one viewing can reveal. And I haven’t even mentioned the scenes that truly make it a horror movie, not just a great psychological thriller.