In 1973, ABC assembled multiple-Oscar winner Shelley Winters, "Citizen Kane" and "The Third Man" veteran Joseph Cotten, Martha Scott from the film version and original stage production of "Our Town," talented young character actress Diane Ladd, and, for good measure, Abe Vigoda fresh from getting taken for a ride toward the end of "The Godfather." Wow, were they doing Shakespeare? Chekhov? A mini-series based on a classic American novel? Nope, they were donning robes and playing a coven of California witches scaring the bejesus out of poor Belinda Montgomery in "The Devil's Daughter," a cheap "Rosemary's Baby" knock-off. I don't know if all these distinguished actors needed the money, wanted to have some silly fun, or assumed that Robert Foxworth was destined for greater things than he actually achieved and was in need of some acting lessons, but the result is silly Satanic camp that will have you screaming with more laughter than fear.
Before the credits roll, we watch Miss Ladd attempt to ward off some creepy home intruders with a gun that apparently misfires and kills her. We first see stiff, somber, shy young Belinda at the funeral for her mother, Ladd, who must have married extremely young and extremely well since her only child is already in her 20s after having spent her life in boarding and convent schools. This sheltered upbringing explains her awkwardness, extreme politeness, and lack of fear when Shelley Winters, chauffeured by a mute Jonathan Frid, shows up after the funeral, claims she was Ladd's best friend, and invites her home for lunch. Veteran film watchers knew that by 1973 Shelley was a bad omen, but Belinda must never have seen "What's The Matter With Helen" since she graciously accepts Shelley's invitation to stay in her mansion. Things at the manor get weird enough to change Belinda's pinched expression from mildly depressed to mildly disturbed, so she moves out into an apartment with a perky Marlo Thomas clone. Shelley is furious at Belinda, but they patch things up just in time for the latter to attend a party the former throws in her honor so she can meet her mother's old friends, one of whom is anthropologist Abe Vigoda, speaking in a bad Bela Lugosi accent and enticing young Belinda into performing a "Mexican Indian" dance with him. Yes, you read that right, this movie features an Abe Vigoda dance number, and if that isn't funny enough, all the Hollywood vets in attendance start chanting "HAIL THE DEVIL'S DAUGHTER" at a whirling, dazed Belinda. And this is before we even meet Joseph Cotten as a crusty old judge who, for some reason, still works at a law firm, or Scott's son Foxworth, the stiff but ambitious architect with whom Belinda finds the true love that will shield her from the clutches of the coven . . . or will it? The film is an unintentional (?) advertisement for Satanism since the devil-worshipers appear to be having a lot more fun than goody-two-shoes sourpuss Montgomery. Cotten happily hams it up in a way that his former patron Orson Welles would appreciate, Vigoda looks like he's always on the verge of hysterics (perhaps he was), and Shelley, wearing a succession of absurd hats as she chain-smokes long brown cigarettes, leaves no scenery unchewed as Belinda's malevolent benefactress Lilith (yep, Lilith) Malone. You'd think that Belinda would prefer life in Shelley's sprawling Victorian home, with Frid to wait on her and two loony, strudel-baking old ladies next door, to renting an ugly apartment with a Breck girl in the next bedroom and dullard Foxworth upstairs, but the script needs her to be unhappy, so off she goes. But . . . for how long?
Before the credits roll, we watch Miss Ladd attempt to ward off some creepy home intruders with a gun that apparently misfires and kills her. We first see stiff, somber, shy young Belinda at the funeral for her mother, Ladd, who must have married extremely young and extremely well since her only child is already in her 20s after having spent her life in boarding and convent schools. This sheltered upbringing explains her awkwardness, extreme politeness, and lack of fear when Shelley Winters, chauffeured by a mute Jonathan Frid, shows up after the funeral, claims she was Ladd's best friend, and invites her home for lunch. Veteran film watchers knew that by 1973 Shelley was a bad omen, but Belinda must never have seen "What's The Matter With Helen" since she graciously accepts Shelley's invitation to stay in her mansion. Things at the manor get weird enough to change Belinda's pinched expression from mildly depressed to mildly disturbed, so she moves out into an apartment with a perky Marlo Thomas clone. Shelley is furious at Belinda, but they patch things up just in time for the latter to attend a party the former throws in her honor so she can meet her mother's old friends, one of whom is anthropologist Abe Vigoda, speaking in a bad Bela Lugosi accent and enticing young Belinda into performing a "Mexican Indian" dance with him. Yes, you read that right, this movie features an Abe Vigoda dance number, and if that isn't funny enough, all the Hollywood vets in attendance start chanting "HAIL THE DEVIL'S DAUGHTER" at a whirling, dazed Belinda. And this is before we even meet Joseph Cotten as a crusty old judge who, for some reason, still works at a law firm, or Scott's son Foxworth, the stiff but ambitious architect with whom Belinda finds the true love that will shield her from the clutches of the coven . . . or will it? The film is an unintentional (?) advertisement for Satanism since the devil-worshipers appear to be having a lot more fun than goody-two-shoes sourpuss Montgomery. Cotten happily hams it up in a way that his former patron Orson Welles would appreciate, Vigoda looks like he's always on the verge of hysterics (perhaps he was), and Shelley, wearing a succession of absurd hats as she chain-smokes long brown cigarettes, leaves no scenery unchewed as Belinda's malevolent benefactress Lilith (yep, Lilith) Malone. You'd think that Belinda would prefer life in Shelley's sprawling Victorian home, with Frid to wait on her and two loony, strudel-baking old ladies next door, to renting an ugly apartment with a Breck girl in the next bedroom and dullard Foxworth upstairs, but the script needs her to be unhappy, so off she goes. But . . . for how long?