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The Capsule:
Gruff, overbearing tycoon Papa Doc (Gene Evans) sequesters
his family and underlings in his isolated winter chalet for a working
vacation. His obligated guests include dutiful
daughter Julie (Joan McCall) and her macho, fun-loving fiancée Rick (Taylor
Lacher), gold-digging vixen Lovely (Carolyn Stellar), spineless suck up Harvey
Beckman (Sorrell Booke), his lush of a wife Ruth (Shelley Morrison), and the
lumbering childlike caretaker, Ralph (John Durren). Their weekend of boozing, bickering, and cat
fighting is interrupted by five adorable children who were the only survivors
of a horrific bus accident. Unbeknownst
to the adults, the little cuties are really a pack of pint sized maniacs on
their way back to the mental hospital when their van went off the road. One by one, the clueless grown-ups are lead
to their increasingly grizzly deaths. By
the time the remaining olds wise up, they find themselves at the mercy of these
diabolical delinquents who aren’t about to let the fun end so soon.
One of the most interesting things about DEVIL TIMES FIVE (or THE
HORRIBLE HOUSE ON THE HILL, which is a stupid title because the house is quite
the swinging pad) is that by the end it is a completely different movie than
how it started. The first twenty minutes are pure soapy melodrama, like an extra trashy episode of
Dynasty. You’ve got the belligerent
patriarch that everyone is resentful or terrified of, the sad sack sycophant
(played by the future Boss Hog from Dukes of Hazard!), his wife who won’t have
anything to do with him because he isn’t a bottle of bourbon, and the irresponsible
ex-jock layabout. There is a full-on cat
fight between jealous sisters (I think they’re sisters), complete with hair
pulling and stray boobs, accompanied by a Starsky & Hutch style groove. The adults are so committed to their booze
drenched drama that no one notices the kids slowly and carefully laying the
groundwork for the horror to come.
I have to admit, the adults are such ridiculous clichés of
the era (only in the ‘70s could a comb over hairdo be considered sexy) that
they are kind of amusing all by themselves.
The real fun is the pack of underaged weirdos who emerge completely
unscathed from the incredibly traumatic van accident. The movie doesn’t bother trying to pass these
ragamuffins off as anything but dangerous freaks right from the start. They show absolutely no concern over anyone
who died in the crash. Brian (Tierre
Turner), who is caught in permanent pretend soldier mode, even loots a bunch of
stuff off the driver’s corpse. The
oldest, an albino 15 year old dressed as a nun known as Sister Hanna (Gail
Smale), seems like she might be the caretaker, until she kills a guy. True Sisters of the Cloth tend to shy away
from such activities.
I was happy to see these malicious munchkins have no
backstory, other than they are all residents of the State Mental Hospital, Children’s Acute Ward. They
don’t bother with any Dr. Loomis style explanation about what made them
evil. They don’t even mention why they
were all out on bus ride in the first place.
Since Dr. Brown, the one surviving adult, is desperately following their
trail muttering “I’ve got to stop them,” they clearly weren’t on a field trip
to the zoo. My theory is the van was on
its way to Mount St. Helens so the doctor could chuck the kids into a
volcano. It might sound harsh, but
believe me, it’s the most appropriate treatment plan for these little
psychos. 
It’s not a particularly bloody movie, but the violence is
brutal and disturbing, especially given that it is all perpetrated by
children. And not just insert shots of
little hands holding knives, or little people stand-ins when things get rough. These kids are front and center. The first murder shows all the actors, even
the darling 8 year old girl, beating Dr. Brown to death with hammers and chains—in
slow motion—for FIVE MINUTES. It only
ends when Brian stabs the guy in the heart.
In another scene, they dump gasoline on someone and dance around the
burning, flailing body like it was a maypole.
This was the ‘70s, before anyone cared about things like developmental
trauma or scarred psyches. 
All of the kids have their moments, but the standout is
David, played by a very young Leif Garret, the late ‘70’s teen idol. It’s pretty obvious why this kid went on to
fame and adoration. In his freshly
pressed suit and flowing blonde locks (which turns out to be a wig), David has
flare. He delivers all his lines with the pomp and gravitas of a stage
thespian, which he (and only he) considers himself to be. You know, the type of kid who would use the
word “rue” a lot in sentences. Now that
I think about it, David is a bit like a prototype Stewie from Family Guy, but
less (intentionally) funny and more homicidal. 
All of the kids zero in on one specific adult to manipulate
and torment, but David has a particularly unusual relationship with the
luckless milquetoast, Harvey Beckman.
For one thing, the kid only calls him by his full name, as in “We
will be friends, Harvey Beckman.” Almost
arbitrarily, David casts this mousy little man as his great nemesis, when there
is clearly nothing great about him at all.
The best part is all of David’s Machiavellian schemes are completely
lost on Harvey. The putz is so happy that
someone is even paying attention to him that he is oblivious to all the warning
signs. He seems to fancy himself a
mentor to the kid, teaching him how to play chess and chop wood (bad
idea). David’s interest
in the sad little man can be categorized as a little more complicated. A telling sign is when he declares
into the mirror, “That’s it; you’re all mine, Harvey Beckman!” He also happens to be wearing one of Ruth’s
dresses, a long black wig, and putting on lipstick at the time.
Harvey Beckman aside, once the first body is discovered, the
adults don’t waste time with the usual “but they’re just kids”
rationalizations. Even the gruff
blowhard Papa Doc goes from “Yeah, right” to “oh shit, they are going to kill
us all” in the space of a single scene.
By that time it’s too late, though.
The game is set, and the grown-ups have been completely outmaneuvered. They can’t even get away because the industrious
twerps have sabotaged the only car. The
story turns very quickly from carefree romp to stalker horror. One by one, the adults are hacked, stabbed, or
fed to piranha, and there is nothing they can do to stop it. Except for one moment when David missteps and
is slightly injured (leading him to yell, “My face! Look what you’ve done to my
beautiful face!”), the kids are in complete control.
Rick and Julie turn out to not only be the most decent and quick
thinking of the adults, but also the ones with the most potential to survive. [Spoiler]
Ultimately though, they are no match for the miniature MacGyvers of Evil
and their clever deathtraps. In a final
scene that would be copied by dozens of slasher movies to come, the kids have propped
up all their victims in one room for a psycho tea party. After they have sufficiently desecrated the
corpses, one of the girls declares that she’s bored, and the whole crew head
off in search of more people toys (the original title) to have fun with. Kids: 8, Adults: 0.
Director Sean MacGregor is no Stanley Kubrick (he was
actually fired and replaced by producer David Sheldon), but the secluded, snowbound
setting gives the movie a bit of a THE SHINING vibe. In fact, DEVIL TIMES FIVE could be thought of
as an age reversed take on that story, where Danny is the one stalking Jack Torrance
(Shelly Duvall would be pretty much the same). So, since it was made six years earlier, maybe Kubrick ripped off this film for his little masterpiece. Just a theory. The movie is undeniably clunky, and some of the performances are a little cringe inducing.=, but the kids have a weird balance between normal brats and twisted freaks that I find fascinating. I would love to see a sequel set in modern times with the same cast. All the little devils, now as old as their victims from the first movie, have a reunion at the chateau, only to be set upon by a new gang of murderous tykes. The old devils would have to recapture the mischievous spirit of their youth. They could have a deathtrap dual, the olds with their garrottes and tripwires, the youngins with their Bluetooth controlled robots. Or it could just be the continuing adventures of David. I’d be fine with that.
C Chaka
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