In short: Satanwar (1979)

aka Satan War

Apparently, this is based on a “true story”, or something, and does the docudrama voice over dance at the beginning, the end, and during the bizarre short “documentary” bit supposedly about voodoo tacked on after the end.

Bill (Jimmy Drankovitch), a lazy smoker and (one supposes evangelical) Christian without a personality and his wife Louise (Sally Schermerhorn), having to do all the work and punishing the world for it by having a really annoying voice, move into their new home, hoping for a fine time of rather conservative living.

Alas, curious things begin happening: there are noises coming from nowhere, a chair has the tendency to bump very very softly into Louise while the film treats it as a rabid chair attack, mysterious goo ruins floors and kitchen appliances, and an invisible force turns not the couple’s frowns but their cross on the living room wall upside down.

Turns out it’s not ghosts it’s demons (ugh). Also, Writer/director Bart La Rue has apparently read Frank De Felitta’s novel “The Entity” (and most certainly something by the inevitable Warrens), and did like the idea of rape by invisible force, alas.

Which produces a couple of rather too harmless for what they are supposed to be paranormal rape scenes; on the other hand, it’s pretty difficult to get incensed about demon rape quite this affectlessly done. On hand number three, there’s a particularly awkward discussion with rape jokes about the demon’s first attempt between our loving couple that’ll raise hackles and eyebrows, and might have even annoyed me if not for the again complete lack of affect in acting or presentation here.

And really, this complete lack of human expressivity in basically everything people in it say or think or do is the make or break feature of this curious cheapie. Either, a viewer is going to be bored out of their wits, or utterly hypnotized by the static camera, the absence of normal emoting even in scenes where Louise is crying her eyes out, and scene upon scene upon scene in which a threateningly warbling three note synthesizer score accompanies Louise (and very seldom Bill) doing housework while the 70s décor tries to burn your eyes out, quietly. In this context, the very mild (yes, even the rape feels paradoxically mild) supernatural manifestations become downright shocking, turning the intensity from minus five up to at least two. It’s all very exciting in its lack of excitement, if you are in the mood for that kind of entertainment.

I was, so thank you, Satan.