Everyone knows the biggest titles in Horror history. It doesn't take a real fan to at least be aware of Night of the Living Dead, The Exorcist, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street. These masterpieces have all entered the collective consciousness.
Alfred Sole's Alice, Sweet Alice is just as good, but it is only known by true fans. A lot of so-called horror people aren't even aware of it.
Alice,Sweet Alice is a dark, incredibly disturbing movie. Not many get under my skin, but this one had me squirming.
No film is born out of the void without influence, Alice, Sweet Alice takes cues from Alfred Hitchcock, which is obvious even without the Psycho poster in the background of one scene. It also has the brutal viciousness of Brian DePalma's Hitchock-tinged Sisters. I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that Sole watched and enjoyed Argento's Deep Red.
Alice, Sweet Alice is a proto-slasher, and as far as I'm concerned it's a better film than the more famous Black Christmas. I think it was probably too much for a lot of people.
Sure, The Exorcist has more sensational and outrageous elements, but the movie strictly adheres to Catholic dogma. Alice, Sweet Alice also has violence committed by and inflicted upon young girls. Sole's movie is senseless and ugly, without a sign of divine providence. There's nothing in this movie to save your soul.
Brooke Shields had her her first role in Alice, Sweet Alice. Her part is brief, but pivotal. The film opened as Communion, and did moderate business. It was purchased by another distributor, who insisted upon the title change. A third release came after Shields achieved international infamy in Louis Malle's Pretty Baby.
The story? A young girl is brutally murdered on the day of her first communion. Evidence points directly toward an emotionally disturbed relative, also a young girl. Killings continue, and God only knows who's responsible.
This movie is brilliantly shot and edited. It's stark and uncompromising, with nary a laugh to be found. Small, gruesome details get under the skin, making Alice, Sweet Alice a profoundly captivating but uncomfortable experience.
Albert Sole should have had a huge career after Alice, Sweet Alice. Reviews were generally positive, even from squeamish critics like Roger Ebert. He went on to direct a couple of tepid, forgettable pictures: Tanya's Island and Pandemonium. Sole went on to a busy career as a production designer.
Sadly, Albert Sole committed a damnable sin and committed suicide in 2022. He was seventy-eight years old, and as far as I'm concerned never got the appreciation he deserved.
Due to copyright issues Alice, Sweet Alice was bogged down in distribution hell, and never got a proper VHS release during the critical home video boom. Anchor Bay managed to release it in 1997, on letterboxed VHS (which is how I first watched it), and quickly after on DVD. Arrow Video gave Alice, Sweet Alice a proper home on blu-ray in 2019, with a print credited with its original Communion title.
Alice, Sweet Alice is easily the best movie in my little slasher marathon. If you haven't seen it, go to confession and repent while there's still time.
Written by Mark Sieber
Alfred Sole's Alice, Sweet Alice is just as good, but it is only known by true fans. A lot of so-called horror people aren't even aware of it.
Alice,Sweet Alice is a dark, incredibly disturbing movie. Not many get under my skin, but this one had me squirming.
No film is born out of the void without influence, Alice, Sweet Alice takes cues from Alfred Hitchcock, which is obvious even without the Psycho poster in the background of one scene. It also has the brutal viciousness of Brian DePalma's Hitchock-tinged Sisters. I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that Sole watched and enjoyed Argento's Deep Red.Alice, Sweet Alice is a proto-slasher, and as far as I'm concerned it's a better film than the more famous Black Christmas. I think it was probably too much for a lot of people.
Sure, The Exorcist has more sensational and outrageous elements, but the movie strictly adheres to Catholic dogma. Alice, Sweet Alice also has violence committed by and inflicted upon young girls. Sole's movie is senseless and ugly, without a sign of divine providence. There's nothing in this movie to save your soul.
Brooke Shields had her her first role in Alice, Sweet Alice. Her part is brief, but pivotal. The film opened as Communion, and did moderate business. It was purchased by another distributor, who insisted upon the title change. A third release came after Shields achieved international infamy in Louis Malle's Pretty Baby.
The story? A young girl is brutally murdered on the day of her first communion. Evidence points directly toward an emotionally disturbed relative, also a young girl. Killings continue, and God only knows who's responsible.
This movie is brilliantly shot and edited. It's stark and uncompromising, with nary a laugh to be found. Small, gruesome details get under the skin, making Alice, Sweet Alice a profoundly captivating but uncomfortable experience.
Albert Sole should have had a huge career after Alice, Sweet Alice. Reviews were generally positive, even from squeamish critics like Roger Ebert. He went on to direct a couple of tepid, forgettable pictures: Tanya's Island and Pandemonium. Sole went on to a busy career as a production designer.
Sadly, Albert Sole committed a damnable sin and committed suicide in 2022. He was seventy-eight years old, and as far as I'm concerned never got the appreciation he deserved.
Due to copyright issues Alice, Sweet Alice was bogged down in distribution hell, and never got a proper VHS release during the critical home video boom. Anchor Bay managed to release it in 1997, on letterboxed VHS (which is how I first watched it), and quickly after on DVD. Arrow Video gave Alice, Sweet Alice a proper home on blu-ray in 2019, with a print credited with its original Communion title.
Alice, Sweet Alice is easily the best movie in my little slasher marathon. If you haven't seen it, go to confession and repent while there's still time.
Written by Mark Sieber
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