BURNT OFFERINGS, in those placate-The-Big-Guy B.C. days of the Old Testament, were freshly slaughtered animals, reduced to ashes as a sacrifice. In the 1976 horror movie with that title, a family discovers the cost of not reading the small print on a rental agreement when their dream dwelling becomes the ultimate fixer-upper. Daring wrath from worshipers of the flick, some may mull that offering to burn 116 minutes of your dwindling mortal span to get to ‘The End’ when 90 would have been sufficient is a steep price for a few shivers. Good cast, anyway. Cue oboes, wafting warnings into the soundtrack.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Ben.”

Given a chance to rent a secluded 19th-century mansion for the summer at a bargain price, ‘Marian Wolf’ (Karen Black) immediately warms to the idea, not just for the deal, but for the chance to spiff up the timeworn structure. Adolescent son ‘Davey’ (Lee H. Montgomery) sees the place as a cool one to hang out in, and, hey, it’s got a pool. Husband ‘Ben’ (Oliver Reed) thinks the isolation might be helpful for his writing, but he’s wary of the eccentric (as in belfry-occupying) owners, siblings ‘Arnold & Rosalyn Allerdyce’ (Burgess Meredith and Eileen Heckart). But Marian wins him over and they move in, bringing along Ben’s aunt ‘Elizabeth’ (Bette Davis), who has a cheerful attitude toward the stay. One condition is that they take care of the Allerdyce’s mother, quite elderly and a total recluse. Soon enough, strange events and stranger behaviors turn an intriguing retreat into a struggle for sanity. *

ROZ: “God when it comes alive – tell them, Brother. Tell them what it’s like in the summer.”  ARNOLD: “Well they’d never believe it – it’s beyond anything that you have you ever seen in your life.”  ROZ: “There are centuries in this room, Mrs. Rolf… there are years, years in this house.”  ARNOLD: “Oh yes, and this house will be here long, long after you have departed. You’ll believe me.”

Dan Curtis directed, co-writing the script with the mega-prolific William F. Nolan, adapting Robert Marasco’s 260-page novel. Filming took place at the Dunsmuir House, a neoclassical revival mansion with extensive grounds in Oakland, California.

Black, 36, adds another portrait to her gallery of kwazy ladies, keeping Marian’s progressive intoxication with the eerie end of ethereal from going too overboard into parody. Reed, 37, gets the most rein to be flamboyant since Ben gets subjected to the harshest mind-f–  vibes the ‘living’ space can project; his intensity reaches critical mass. Though by this time she’d been relegated to TV work or glamorized “special guest” roles in features, Davis, 67, was still able to take scenes away from whoever she felt like; despite being mightily irked by the behavior of other personnel, she brings dignity and passion to a rather thankless part. Montgomery, 14, for a few years the go-to boy for kids-with-issues parts (Ben, Pete ‘n’ Tillie, The Savage Is Loose), is all right as the frightened child being buffeted between the unraveling parents. Meredith and Heckart score in their brief opener segment, having fun playing way out to lunch (and past dinner) as the cuckoo Allerdyce sibs. Added weirdness comes from dependably amusing Dub Taylor and always unnerving Anthony James. So kudos go to the cast.

The downside—other than the obvious pretend-it’s-not-absurd plot, and the acceptance from the characters of unhinged actions (and lunatic apparitions) that would in reality bring everything to an immediate screeching halt, is in the pacing and editing: it’s a long ‘slow burn’ with one “this is nutty, let’s split” conversation after another sapping audience patience. Though Bob Cobert’s score is acceptable in setting mood and signalling tension, the soft, washed-out cinematography has the look of a TV movie, taking you out of the required suspension of disbelief and into speculation on where a break for commercials would fit. The first swimming pool scene—where Reed loses it with Montgomery—is unnerving and the lookout-below finale is a startling jolt. Cutting at least 15 minutes of the repetitive jabber would have sped acceptance.

Ben & Marian had neighbors in ’76 with The Omen, Carrie and The Tenant. The first two were big hits, the last a critical success, while for the interesting (if patently silly) Burnt Offerings the reviews were mixed, and at 85th place and $4,700,000 the box office was marked a failure against the $2,000,000 cost.  Flaws notwithstanding, it’s developed a loyal following.

* “Burning Down The House…”—-the previous year Black, director Curtis, writer Noland and composer Cobert had teamed for the TV hit Trilogy Of Terror. But the success of that nifty small screen thriller didn’t carry over to Burnt Offerings. Bad luck dogged the production. The initial cinematographer was fired after bollixing two weeks worth of film. Davis was miffed at Black’s wackiness and considered legendarily unruly Reed “possibly one of the most loathsome human beings I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.” Reed’s stuntman was nearly killed misjudging a fall. Worst, actress Linda Curtis, the director’s 20-year-old daughter committed suicide. And while it’s a popular venue for weddings, parties and picnics, the Dunsmuir House has its own curse appeal. Alexander Dunsmuir built it in 1899, spending $350,000–roughly $13,000,000 in 2025. The 37 rooms and 50 acre setting was a wedding present for his wife Josephine: they’d been “living in sin” for twenty years. He was a big league boozer and she’d been married to his favorite bartender. Alexander died on their honeymoon (don’t ask) and then Josephine passed away 18 months later. In the house.