ABCs of Horror 2: “C” Is for The Changeling (1980)

Paste’s ABCs of Horror 2 is a 26-day project that highlights some of our favorite horror films from each letter of the alphabet. The only criteria: The films chosen can’t have been used in our previous Century of Terror, a 100-day project to choose the best horror film of every year from 1920-2019, nor previous ABCs of Horror entries. With many heavy hitters out of the way, which movies will we choose?
Peter Medak’s The Changeling could easily have been our pick for the best horror film of 1980 during our Century of Terror project, if not for the existence of a little Stanley Kubrick ditty known as The Shining. On some level that feels fitting for The Changeling, though, a film with universal critical admiration but perhaps a lack of the widespread audience recognition it deserves. And it’s not necessarily difficult to see why more people haven’t seen the film now, some 40 years later—it’s a uniquely cold, methodical, brooding work of suspense that doesn’t scream “wide appeal” despite what is on the surface a comfortably familiar ghost story. In the same vein of say, Guillermo del Toro’s The Devil’s Backbone, however, this is ultimately a film about human beings who feel compelled to exhume and seek justice for the crimes of the past, in order to save their own souls.
The Changeling is that rarest of horror marvels: A ghost story that seasoned horror fans may actually find genuinely frightening at times. Part classical haunted house tale, part psychological horror and part detective mystery, it stars the ever-gruff George C. Scott as a man attempting to heal from personal tragedy by renting a huge, crumbling Victorian mansion…which of course, turns out to be haunted. Scott is your classic ghost story protagonist, in the sense that he’s haunted in more ways than one, here by the shocking and sudden death of his wife and daughter in a car wreck only months before. In his sprawling new abode, he claims to seek solace to toil on musical composition, but it seems clear to us immediately that his true motivation is to find a dilapidated place in which he can truly wallow in his sorrow, perhaps until he wastes away to nothing. His John Russell is a man with no remaining ties to our physical world, and perhaps it’s that very thing that forges his connection to the world beyond.