The Worst Film Ever

Although it has its amusing moments, in eneral the plot does not convince.

The film creates a perfect balance between action and depth of basic needs, in the midst of an infertile atmosphere.

A film of deceptively outspoken contemporary relevance, this is cinema at its most alert, alarming and alive.

Roy Thinnes stars as author David Norliss, doing research for a book on the supernatural, who mysteriously disappears, but leaves behind a series of audio tapes detailing the case he was investigating, revolving around Angie Dickinson playing a wife trying to uncover the mysterious death of her husband, which takes a sinister turn as events unfold...Roy Thinnes portrays Norliss with the same steely, no-nonsense determination he gave to David Vincent from his previous series "The Invaders". Some find his humorlessness off-putting, but I find it a refreshing change from the norm.Made as a pilot film to a proposed series that was never picked up, which I think is a great pity, since I found Norliss and this case quite interesting, and would like to know what became of him, either with a sequel film and/or TV series.As a consequence, this character remains an intriguing enigma.

"The Norliss Tapes" is a TV movie that was originally intended as a pilot for a TV series--one that never materialized. Dan Curtis (who created the original "Dark Shadows" and made some great monster films in the 70s) was shopping this show as well as "Kolchak" (with Darren McGavin) at around the same time. Both shows were essentially the same sort of thing--with very few differences. Curtis made two Kolchak pilots, re-arranged the show and made Norliss. Oddly, "The Norliss Tapes" aired only a few weeks after the second Kolchak film ("The Night Strangler"). Perhaps he was just trying to cover all the bases. Soon Kolchak was okayed by ABC and aired as a series for one season. Both involved writers who investigated so-called monsters--and in each, the monsters turned out to be true! The only major difference was that Norliss was a darker show--with a less comedic style.This one begins with a writer, David Norliss (Roy Thinnes) disappearing. His publisher is worried and all they find are a stack of cassette tapes. When the publisher places one of the tapes in the cassette player, the story begins. Presumably, had the show been picked up, each episode would have been a flashback instigated by the playing of yet another of these tapes.The monster in this one is a dead man. His zombie body returns--and naturally scares the crap out of his wife (Angie Dickenson) when it tears his dog to pieces and tries to kill her. However, no one believes her and the only one who will listen is Norliss--and at first he doesn't believe her. Not surprisingly, the local sheriff (Claude Akins) doesn't believe her stories about a giant smurf-like zombie! What does some magic ring have to do with this and how can Norliss help her? I would say that this show wasn't quite as enjoyable as the two Kolchak pilots ("The Night Stalker" and "The Night Strangler")--but it is quite enjoyable in a campy way. Worth a look to see what might have been.

Roy Thinnes of "The Invaders" TV series fame gives a typically fine performance as David Norliss, a cynical and skeptical investigative reporter working on a book which debunks various supernatural occurrences and paranormal phenomena as phony baloney frauds. While researching his book Norliss crosses paths with widow Ellen Cort (the ever-lovely and appealing Angie Dickinson), who claims that her recently deceased husband (an impressively robust turn by Nick Dimitri, who sports some truly ghoulish make-up and uncanny yellow eyes) has come back to life as a murderous gray-skinned zombie. Norliss finds out much to his dismay that this particular case is all too real and by no means yet another far-fetched hoax.Expertly directed by the late, great Dan ("Trilogy of Terror") Curtis, with a smart and compelling script by William F. ("Logan's Run") Nolan, an arrestingly creepy and mysterious atmosphere, an eerie and rousing score by Robert Cobert, a snappy pace, polished cinematography by Ben Colman, genuinely shocking and stirring outbursts of surprisingly brutal violence (Angie blasts the zombie with a shotgun!), and a thrilling fiery conclusion, this failed pilot for a possible spin-off show sizes up as an often quite scary, always engrossing and overall superior made-for-TV fright feature. Moreover, the sound acting from a solid cast counts as another major asset: Both Thinnes and Dickinson are strong and sympathetic, with bang-up support from Claude Akins as a hard-nosed sheriff, Don Porter as Norliss' concerned publisher, Vonette ("Blacula") McGhee as a helpful occult store owner, Stanley Adams as an excitable truck driver, and Patrick ("The Cheerleaders") Wright as a deputy. Short (it's only 72 minutes long), spooky and extremely well-done all around, "The Norliss Tapes" is definitely worth checking out.

The only reason "The Norliss Tapes" deserves ANY stars is the presence of Angie Dickinson in the cast. Other than getting to see Angie Baby in a pre-"Police Woman" performance, there's nothing else worth seeing here.THE SYNOPSIS: *** MINOR SPOILERS *** David Norliss is tapped to write a book on the supernatural. One day he mysteriously disappears after phoning his publisher and suggesting he has stumbled across something that has placed him in mortal danger. The entire series for which this miserable pilot was written was apparently intended to be a series of flashbacks via the "Norliss tapes" -- a set of audio tapes the writer recorded while investigating cases of the supernatural. In the pilot episode, a wealthy sculptor dies -- but not before purchasing an ancient Egyptian scarab ring from a local occultist who assures him the bauble will give him immortality after death. We soon discover the ring itself doesn't grant immortality. Instead, it only reanimates the sculptor's corpse, allowing him to escape his crypt so he can run around town draining pretty girls of all their blood. Blue-faced, yellow-eyed and growling out ARRRGHHHHHHs you haven't heard since you last watched "Scooby Doo" cartoons, the sculptor attacks his wife (Dickinson) one dark night. She escapes and, via a mutual acquaintance, contacts Norliss to get his assistance in solving the mystery behind her late husband's uncanny reappearance on her estate. So is this guy a vampire? No. There's no vampire in this story despite what you may have read or heard. The sculptor doesn't drink his victims' blood -- he collects it. How? Don't know. We only see him attacking, never collecting. Why? To fulfill the second part of his bid for immortality. It turns out the reanimated sculptor will only be allowed to live forever if he builds a life-size statue of a demon named Sargoth out of a mixture of clay and human blood. Once it's finished, Sargoth plans to inhabit the statue, using it as his gateway into our world.THE FINAL ANALYSIS: "The Norliss Tapes" wasn't picked up as a series for a very good reason... it was garbage. As you can see from my synopsis, the story is a paltry, ill-conceived mess. The acting and dialogue offer no better. This isn't even a contender for a "So Bad It's Good" Award. Sometimes bad is just bad. After years of hearing underground rumblings about the great merits of "The Norliss Tapes," I was very excited to find it airing on Fox Movie Channel on 10/15/03. I wish I hadn't set myself up for the fall. Having screened this groaner for the first time two days ago, I can only assume any applause you've heard so far from other IMDB reviewers is coming from those who are reviewing the show based on dim memories and the nostalgia of youth. Or perhaps they are simply loyal fans of Dan Curtis. Either way, they've offered you misleading reviews of "The Norliss Tapes." Pauly Orchid -- October 17, 2003