The Mist

We put Play Misty for Me (1971) on the queue as a potential horror watch, even though it's more of a stalker/slasher. We got around to it in the end, just to see what it's all about.

Clint Eastwood plays a mellow jazz DJ for a Carmel CA radio station. It's a regular night - a listener with a sexy voice calls in to ask him to "play Misty for me", as she often does. After his show, he stops into The Sardine Factory for a drink, served by director Don Siegel. He notices a cute girl at the other end of the bar, Jessica Walker. He and Siegel lure her into a conversation by playing a nonsense game of Fizbin, and he takes her home - and finds out that she's the caller who likes Misty.

Although they agreed that this is just for laughs, she shows up at his place the next morning with breakfast fixings. His black fellow DJ, James McEachin, gets to witness this - I only mention because - SPOILER - he doesn't get killed first.

So Walker stalks Eastwood, but always either backs off just about when he's at his limit, or just sexes him up. Meanwhile, Eastwood's old girlfriend, artist Donna Mills, is back in town. SPOILER - she doesn't get killed first either. 

But Walker keeps pushing - attempting suicide and later attacking (REDACTED - she doesn't get killed first either). So she's finally instituionalized. Eastwood gets to have sexy time with Mills to the tune of The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. They even gets to go to the Monterey Jazz Fest and hear Johnny Otis and Cannonball Adderly. Frankly, once we saw how things were going, we only stayed for this scene - then figured we might as well watch the rest.

There first and only real kill is a hilarious, out-of-nowhere, boom and done. Nobody shows any situational awareness or instinct for self-preservation. It all ends in a very "Tom Stewart killed me!" kind of way. 

But I have to say, I liked this movie. Although the jazz is pretty mellow, the soundtrack is pleasant and the Jazz Fest scene is very cool. The setting of Carmel/Monterey was lovely. And some of Eastwood's shots, his long moving takes, close up of his craggy face cross-fading to Carmel's craggy landscape, and slow zooms to eyes, are quite artistic. And there's surprisingly little slashing, and when there is, the blood looks ridiculous (which we prefer to realistic violence).

In conclusion, for a movie made on the California coast, not enough mist.

In semi-related news, my sister recently watched The Sand Piper and thought it was trash. But it was filmed in Big Sur. Should we watch it just for that?