The box art and information for Daughters of Satan lists producer Aubrey Schenck, director Hollingsworth Morse, and writer John S. Higgins, but there’s no mention of the cast. Viewers will undoubtedly be delighted to find that none other than American superstar Tom Selleck starred as the bedeviled husband, James Robertson, in this eminently forgettable film that opens with a nude torture scene.
Selleck is unbelievably young (has anyone ever been that young?) in this silliness. Robertson is an antiques buyer looking for relics in Manila. In an antique shop, he finds an old painting of a witch-burning that features a witch who is a dead ringer for his wife, Chris (Barra Grant). As soon as his wife sees the painting, spooky music begins to play. How does Chris know so much about the historical event it represents? (Note to men: if you would like to feature in your own horror story, give your wife a painting of a witch that you think looks just like her.)
Chris’s reaction is about what one would expect from a woman whose loving husband thinks she looks like a witch, and that night she begins to hear far-off voices calling her name and there’s a—gasp—strong, unexpected breeze. Daughters of Satan leaves no cliché unturned. It is pure seventies, and in a nod to hippies, Chris wears a hideous granny dress which prompted me to burn my “vintage” wardrobe items.
After brooding over the painting, Chris meets a large black dog named Nicodemus whose outrageously-spiked collar advises that he lives at 666 Calle Revelacion (I swear to you, I’m not making this up). This is the scene where you seriously start throwing the popcorn. When Old Nic runs away, Chris runs after him. At this point the audience is convinced that there’s something not quite right about Chris.
Despite his wife’s displeasure and discomfort at the sight of the painting, James hangs it in the house, and realizes the big black dog in the painting has suddenly begun to fade away. At this point, I am horribly disappointed that I chose to watch Daughters of Satan alone—it’s so bad, it begs to be shared.
You know what’s coming…a spooky housekeeper who looks just like one of the other witches in the painting, covens, devil worship, a painting that changes daily, an unbalanced wife, and a nasty little knife that looks like it could do a lot of damage. Thank heavens Chris’s crucifix is always displayed prominently… well, almost always…until…
Daughters of Satan is absolutely awful in such a good way. Tom Selleck’s name is probably not on the box because he’d likely sue to have it removed. I don’t think the dog wanted to be credited either. This is the kind of movie that is memorable only because it just gets more and more preposterous (I purposely haven’t mentioned the singing photographer/mortician taking pictures of nude corpses who is an expert at semantics and dog names). Fight scenes are badly choreographed, the script is lame and predictable, and there’s nothing to redeem this film except—maybe—Tom Selleck’s appeal (not to be sexist or anything, but he had great legs). Combine those factors with a few friends and six-packs, pop enough corn to eat and throw, and enjoy thoroughly.
Sure, Daughters of Satan is all downhill after the first sub-basement scene. Those interested in high-quality films with good production values and talented casts should avoid it, but for those of us who love wallowing in the best of the bad (which is probably the worst of the worst), it is a day at the beach.
Selleck is unbelievably young (has anyone ever been that young?) in this silliness. Robertson is an antiques buyer looking for relics in Manila. In an antique shop, he finds an old painting of a witch-burning that features a witch who is a dead ringer for his wife, Chris (Barra Grant). As soon as his wife sees the painting, spooky music begins to play. How does Chris know so much about the historical event it represents? (Note to men: if you would like to feature in your own horror story, give your wife a painting of a witch that you think looks just like her.)
Chris’s reaction is about what one would expect from a woman whose loving husband thinks she looks like a witch, and that night she begins to hear far-off voices calling her name and there’s a—gasp—strong, unexpected breeze. Daughters of Satan leaves no cliché unturned. It is pure seventies, and in a nod to hippies, Chris wears a hideous granny dress which prompted me to burn my “vintage” wardrobe items.
After brooding over the painting, Chris meets a large black dog named Nicodemus whose outrageously-spiked collar advises that he lives at 666 Calle Revelacion (I swear to you, I’m not making this up). This is the scene where you seriously start throwing the popcorn. When Old Nic runs away, Chris runs after him. At this point the audience is convinced that there’s something not quite right about Chris.
Despite his wife’s displeasure and discomfort at the sight of the painting, James hangs it in the house, and realizes the big black dog in the painting has suddenly begun to fade away. At this point, I am horribly disappointed that I chose to watch Daughters of Satan alone—it’s so bad, it begs to be shared.
You know what’s coming…a spooky housekeeper who looks just like one of the other witches in the painting, covens, devil worship, a painting that changes daily, an unbalanced wife, and a nasty little knife that looks like it could do a lot of damage. Thank heavens Chris’s crucifix is always displayed prominently… well, almost always…until…
Daughters of Satan is absolutely awful in such a good way. Tom Selleck’s name is probably not on the box because he’d likely sue to have it removed. I don’t think the dog wanted to be credited either. This is the kind of movie that is memorable only because it just gets more and more preposterous (I purposely haven’t mentioned the singing photographer/mortician taking pictures of nude corpses who is an expert at semantics and dog names). Fight scenes are badly choreographed, the script is lame and predictable, and there’s nothing to redeem this film except—maybe—Tom Selleck’s appeal (not to be sexist or anything, but he had great legs). Combine those factors with a few friends and six-packs, pop enough corn to eat and throw, and enjoy thoroughly.
Sure, Daughters of Satan is all downhill after the first sub-basement scene. Those interested in high-quality films with good production values and talented casts should avoid it, but for those of us who love wallowing in the best of the bad (which is probably the worst of the worst), it is a day at the beach.
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