Moody horror from Jacques Tourneur, Night of the Demon battles all the way against a studio that wanted to make the director’s psychological approach more literal. Hence the Demon itself, shown early on and right at the end, against Tourneur’s wishes. From this distance Tourneur was obviously right. There’s nothing remotely convincing in what looks like a toy dinosaur being shaken about by a props man.
But on to the plot, which is adapted from an MR James story – usually a good sign. Dana Andrews plays John Holden, an American man of science who’s been invited to England by fellow scientist Professor Harrington to speak at a conference debunking ghosties and ghoulies, Holden’s speciality. Harrington also intends to expose a fellow British scientist, Dr Karswell, a demonologist (if such a thing can exist in a world that runs on rational principles), or so Harrington says. But by the time Holden arrives on the scene, Harrington is already dead, at the hands/paws of the titular demon, unleashed by Karswell.
Whodunit-style, Holden will turn detective and work towards nailing Karswell for the crime, en route updating his understanding of the fundamental principles of the universe – maybe there is weird shit out there, in a nutshell.
Also en route, Holden will tangle romantically with the dead professor’s pretty daughter, Joanna (Peggy Cummins), consort with other men of science and meet on several occasions with chief suspect Karswell – a pompous, unctuous and sinister man with one of those beard-and-no-moustache arrangements that usually spell trouble.
Andrews is well cast. A plausible romantic lead, his slight stiffness an analogue for Holden’s unwillingness to think outside the box, and his ability to turn on the paranoid intensity particularly useful as the film winds towards its conclusion. Niall McGinnis is better, though, the making of this film thanks to his boggly portrayal of Karswell. He gives off an unwholesome vibe that sets the tone for the entire film.
It’s a highly idealised view of the UK, all stately homes, open-top sports cars and cut-glass accents, and the lush production design is by Ken Adam, who’d later style the Bond movies in the 1960s and 1970s.
“Man of science” is the key phrase. Should the women Holden meets be taken seriously? Should any woman? The doughty Joanna seems to know what she’s talking about but Holden has trouble digesting any information that doesn’t come from the mouth of a man in a white coat. He’s even more at a loss when he meets Karswell’s mother, who dabbles in the occult – a double threat.
She holds a séance at one point and it’s one of the highlights of the film, because Mrs Karswell is played by Athene Seyler, an ace at eccentrics and dotty old dears, and because Ken Adam has been let off the leash and tricked out the set as an exercise in comic British gothic, which is just how Seyler plays it.
For the most part a high camera in this film equals omniscient narrative point of view, low camera equals trouble, camera on the level means Tourneur is also on the level – telling us useful factual information.
Eventually, in a plot turn that prefigures It Follows, it’s revealed that the curse of the demon (the film’s US title) is passed from one person to another. But in the end the plot also ceases to be that important. Instead Tourneur applies himself to working up a dark, paranoid and increasingly frenetic mood, culminating in some hugely atmospheric stuff along a starkly lit railway line at night, where the appearance of the Demon almost derails the whole thing.
A cult item, and for good reason. It has its ridiculousnesses but it’s a chewy morsel, flavoursome too.
Night of the Demon – Watch it/buy it at Amazon
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© Steve Morrissey 2025
