In midnight movies, it's common for people to come back from the dead. But it may not be quite as easy to resurrect the midnight movie itself.

The Charles Theatre is taking a stab at it. Along with 30 other theaters nationwide, the Charles is screening the 1980 horror flick "The Beyond," hoping to appeal to niche, night-owl audiences and resuscitate enthusiasm for the type of offbeat midnight films that flourished from the early '70s through the mid-'80s.

Creepy and campy, "The Beyond," directed by Lucio Fulci, features tongue-eating tarantulas, decaying corpses and bone-chillingly bad acting. The three-week run of Friday and Saturday midnight showings at the Charles began July 10.

The film opened in its first markets June 12 and adds a handful of new venues every week. Since then, the movie has earned about $65,000 nationally -- nearly $22,000 in the first weekend and $9,000-$12,000 each subsequent weekend -- says John Vanco, vice president of the film's distributor, Cowboy Booking International. "It's been holding really well," he says.

Despite the film's success, film aficionados and industry experts maintain that a full-scale revival of the midnight movie phenomenon -- epitomized by the gender-bending standard-bearer "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," released in 1975 -- is unlikely.

"There's no such thing as a midnight movie phenomenon anymore," says Baltimore filmmaker John Waters. "Video wrecked it. Everyone has their own midnight movie parties any time they want it."

Waters' early films, such as 1972's "Pink Flamingos," are classic examples of late-night counterculture staples.

Among other midnight-movie standards are the dystopian vision David Lynch's "Eraserhead" (1978), gore-fests such as "Night of the Living Dead" (1968) and straight (and not so straight) camp, like "Rocky Horror."

Mutants, transvestites, dripping demons and tripping teens all have had their place. Pretty much the only commonality in these films is an undeniable anti-mainstream quality.

"It has to be a certain kind of film that presents sex and violence in a new way and gets on my generation's nerves," Waters says.

The first film to be released exclusively at midnight was "El Topo," a surreal, dark western from 1971. It brought in enthusiastic crowds at the Elgin Theater in New York City and proved to be enough of a counterculture smash to instigate a trend.

Quirky movies that tanked in mainstream release, such as "Night of the Living Dead," "Repo Man" (1984) and, more recently, "Showgirls" and "Gummo," found enthusiastic audiences when moved to exclusive midnight showings.

"They worked, because people sensed intuitively it was something they had to see," says Elliott Lavine, programmer for the Roxie Cinema in San Francisco. The theater used to have many midnight shows but hasn't had much success with them in the past five or six years.

Creative rebellion

When midnight movies reigned, several elements fell together to ensure their success.

"The audiences were the most insane. The insane audiences created this demand," Waters says. Today, "it's harder to get people to go to a midnight movie because they're not on drugs."

And when midnight movies first became popular, circa 1970, American cinema itself was undergoing a creative rebellion that added to the stoned masses' delight, says J. Hoberman, film critic for the Village Voice and author of "Midnight Movies."

"There was this situation where movies would open at midnight and develop substantial followings," he says.

But by the mid-'80s, theaters that ran weekly midnight shows sensed a definite drop in interest. The UC Cinema in Berkeley, Calif., has been running "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" for 22 years.

And while it still draws about 200 nightcrawlers for "Rocky" every Saturday night, it's far less than the more than a thousand a week the film once drew, says Mark Toscano, the theater's chief of staff.

The underground, unplanned aesthetic of the original midnight movie was part of the subversive charm.

"It would've been the kiss of death to market something as a midnight movie," Hoberman says.

But "The Beyond" is being marketed as a midnight movie. Lavine opted out of buying "The Beyond" for the Roxie. "Now it seems a little mechanical; part of a marketing strategy."

Waters agrees: "You can't make a midnight movie on purpose," he says. "It becomes one because the audience wants it to be one."

Still, '90s audiences, who aren't familiar with the original midnight scene, are attracted by its trendy retro aspect. But it's mostly a novelty demand.

In the case of "Rocky Horror," Toscano says, "It seems like since it's already passed from generation to generation, it's definitely diminished. In the new generation, some embraced it, and others went to look for something new."

A midnight movie's true cult success is based on its staying power, its ability to pull in the same devotedly warped crowd week after week.

"I could take a film like 'Purple Rain' and slap it up there at midnight. They'll come out and see it once just to enjoy the group sensation. But the staying power isn't there," Lavine says.

Young crowd members at "The Beyond" last week at the Charles recognized and respected the charm of the communal experience.

"It's fun to see these cheesy movies in the theater late at night the allure of seeing it on the big screen," says 19-year-old Evan Guilfoyle, a Catonsville resident. He sat front and center with fellow University of Maryland at Baltimore City film major and Catonsville resident Sean Williams, 20, in an audience of nearly 80 people. (About 45 people came the next night. "Eraserhead" played at the Charles last Halloween as a midnight movie to much larger crowds.)

The crowd at "The Beyond" included flannel-wearing teens, biker-types, middle-agers and rabid devotees of "The Beyond" director Fulci.

They delighted in the gory group experience, from the graphic, vintage '70s, slasher-film trailers to the film's end.

Williams said a better-known midnight movie would probably appeal to a larger crowd.

"To see 'Dawn of the Dead' would be beautiful," Williams said. "I just want to see more of them [midnight movies]."

Even if Williams does, the movies probably won't be as shocking as they were to audiences 25 years ago.

"[The midnight movie] was an outgrowth of the counterculture," Hoberman says. "That taste itself became mainstream."

For instance, the skewed perspective of David Lynch was once only palatable in the form of a midnight movie such as "Eraserhead," Hoberman says.

But in the '90s, Lynch proved that the counterculture of the midnight movie's heyday wasn't so "counter" anymore when his "Twin Peaks" hit the most accessible platform of American entertainment: prime-time network television.

Breaking rules

If midnight movies are to rise again, a new underground aesthetic needs to be established by new artists and audiences, according to Waters.

"There are no taboos left. There are no rules left to break," Waters says. "They have to come up with a new way to break them. That's the duty of youth. That's the duty of young filmmakers."

Some theaters have responded with midnight shows of edgy, current indie films. For example, The Remy Martin Tastemaker Series and Movieline Magazine are running a series at New York's Screening Room called "Midnight Indies: 10 Great Films of the '80s and '90s," featuring films such as "Chasing Amy," "Dazed and Confused," and yet another Lynch freak feature, "Wild at Heart."

But to many in this day and age, the original anarchy is lost. A midnight showing of "Armageddon" could pass for a midnight movie.

There are movies that play at midnight. But a midnight screening does not a midnight movie make, Lavine says.

"That exotic quality that made you feel you were some place you shouldn't be just isn't there."

Pub Date: 7/18/98