The Scene: Steve Freeling is surprised by a massive face that pops through the doorway.

How It Was Done: A clever trick called “force perspective” was used. A “force perspective” shot uses an in-camera trick to alter one’s perception of the distance and/or size of an object, person, or set piece. In this case, a 15 inch-high doorframe was placed in the foreground and was lined up with an actual set, with Craig T. Nelson standing nearly 10 feet away from the miniature. A soft focus, along with a custom lens designed by Richard Edlund,  was then used to make the miniature, full-sized set pieces, and the actor appear as if they were interacting.

Modelmaker Paul Huston spoke of his experiences with building and shooting the head model:

“….I started sculpting this large skull with a bunch of rotting flesh on it to match the rest of the graveyard material. I also made a rig on a track that I could wheel forward and back, keeping it in a really predictable position. It could go in and out from behind the door from the same position every time, so we wouldn’t have a focus problem on different takes.

So I ended up doing it all by hand., using the track as a guide while holding the head and the jaw. It gave me a lot more flexibility, The head had one simple neck joint, to seemingly drop down and lunge at Craig. I left part of it open in the back, exposing the plywood armature, and put an I-bolt there just to grab hold of it like a handle. C02 smoke came out of the eyes. Small light bulbs were also in the eyes and lit  up as the gas pumped through. “

This was actually the second attempt for this shoot. The original concept was designed by Craig Reardon, who spoke of his design with Cinefex: 

“Steven’s concept for the head was something like Mr. Sardonicus- a name that was even mentioned a few times- what with a face sporting an enormous, humorless, macabre grin. Steven wanted it to look pale, slightly blue and bloodless, like a face underwater. Dead, but not decayed. 

The smile would pull way back and the upper lip would pull away from the gums.  The mouth, which opened very wide in a kind of Lon Chaney ‘Phantom of the Opera’ leer, was made with translucent  backing so that a brilliant light could be directed out through it.”

The original shot differed from the final film version. Instead of the profile shot of the face, it was designed to be a head on shot with Steve Freeling in the foreground. It was an “in-camera” composit shot utilizing a beam splitter to combine two separate images. The camera was in front of a breakaway door and the head, on a track with specific curtains to make the head “appear” and “disappear,”  was positioned to the side, at a 45 degree angle. “

Steven Spielberg had a change of heart for the scene.  Richard Edlund spoke of this decision:

“Craig had done a wonderful job on the head; but suddenly, it became apparent that it looked too human. Steven wanted it to be scary. But in that original shot, you were looking straight into the doorway and no matter what you did, you were going to telegraph the punchline- because you saw it coming.  As a result, the shot softened whatever scariness a close up would have offered. “

The beam splitter shot was traded in for the force perspective shot because it was quick and effective. 

“I have been an admirer of Jerry Goldsmith from the moment I heard his score for The Blue Max and A Patch of Blue. Along with John Williams, these two men have dominated the arena of great movie music for nearly 20 years. Jerry’s scores range from the unforgettable Patton to his Oscar-winning music for The Omen. In between, there came such rousing challenges as Star Trek: The Motion Picture, The Great Train Robbery, Chinatown, Papillon, Alien, over 100 scores.

Now with Poltergeist, Jerry has met his greatest challenge- to scare us nearly to tears, and he has been remarkable in his efforts. Cleverly, the moments of greatest tension arise not from his brilliant off-rhythm ostinatos but more from a soothing tonal beauty.

Don’t trust his melodies. Something perfectly unworldly is due to occur the moment you let your guard drop and Goldsmith proceeds to feign and attack with no “apparent” rhyme or pattern. It’s to his great credit that he has plotted every blow and designed a score of such shattering intensity that nighttime is perhaps not the right time to hear this album if you have seen the film. If you haven’t seen Poltergeist, Jerry’s music conjures many classical impressions of ferocious drive and at the same time, cathedral beauty. So…. let the imagination wander. Pleasant dreams.

-Steven Spielberg”

The Scene: “The Beast” appears to Diane in the hallway.

How It Was Done: A 7×5 tank was built with 2 1/2 inch thick glass, which was then filled with water. The puppet, designed by John Bruno and Nilo Rodis, was then placed in the tank. To give the creature its thin look, an anamorphic lens was used to squeeze the image. It was then composited into the shot, while JoBeth Williams’ interaction required rotoscoping.

This, of course, was the second attempt. The original concept was to build the beast with a rig within its body and pump Cyalume glow juices throughout its “circulatory system.”

Craig Reardon on the initial attempt:

“It was wrongheaded only because it could operate in one or two axes of movement. Once the body parts were married to this complicated rig, the whole thing got to be like a washing machine with wings. They do anything but jettison the entire body! All that retained of my sculpture was the head.”

Even though a similar concept  from Reardon was initially rejected, Rodis and Lorne Peterson later came up with the marionette that was used in the film. Weighing in at about 5 lbs. , the marionette’s skin was made of rubber and used plastic tubes for “bones.” It was operated by three men on a scaffolding.

You see the famous lion roar gracefully. Then you hear The Star Spangled Banner and immediately you start to have doubts about whether or not you just rented a horror movie. You know you got in the Horror section, but today’s genre standards at video stores are often quite dodgy.

But then you get an up close and personal glimpse at the television and as we pull away from the television and get a glimpse of our current location, the dark  living room, as it is being  attacked by the frantic flickering light.  You start to realize that there’s something kind of creepy about this, and already you are starting to realize that there is something special about this movie. If a movie can make the light radiating from a television seem eerie already in the first two minutes, then it has already beaten the expectations of most assembly line horror movies these days.

The television is the first crucial element we meet in the film. We get to meet the second as we wonder around the house with the faithful golden retriever, E-Buzz, who is aimlessly scavenging for things to eat. E-Buzz is the vessel we use to discover, one by one, the Freelings, our surrogate
family for the next couple of hours, as they are far along in their nightly slumber. The first one to wake up is little Carol Anne Freeling, who we follow back to the television we saw moments ago. She begins striking up aloud conversation with the tv static, waking up the various family members, who get up and watch this strange event.

Now that we have met the family and have gotten a general overview of the house’s geography, it’s time to meet the suburban neighborhood, Cuesta Verde. We follow an unnamed character as he transports beer on his bicycle. Some pesky kids sitting on the curve decide to gang up on the man and sabotage his mission via two remote cars, which pass in front of him, causing him to crash on his bike. The man grabs what’s left of the beer and runs inside the Freelings’ household where Steve Freeling and some friends are watching a football game.

Once again, in a lesser film, we’d establish the characters through a down to earth style. We’d probably meet them at the table eating breakfast, a scene we’ll get later after we’ve already met and got to know the Freelings. But instead, the filmmakers treat the simple, early, non-horror sequences with excitement and humor, giving you the proud feeling that you are watching something fresh and not the run of the mill horror gorefest. It’s also noteworthy that we meet the Freelings years after they’ve settled into their home, which is in the middle of the ever-so-safe suburbs.

Wait a minute! Shouldn’t we be meeting the characters as they are just now purchasing the house, which is normally a spiderweb-infested scary place with loose nails, and human shaped chalk markings galore? I guess that old, victorian house was plowed over years ago to make way for new, super duper shopping center, so the Freelings had to settle for a normal, every day home. Sorry, Dr. Fankenstein, your house is now a Wal-Mart!

Right from the get-go, we get the feeling that this whole mundane setting is sort of smiling through it’s teeth, and that in all actuality, something is wrong. Carol Anne’s pet bird Tweetie (yes, it’s a yellow bird) has just died and we get to see a tender little funeral for Tweetie. As this occurs, we are introduced to the next antagonist, an old tree, which accepts the part as one of little Robbie Freeling’s two arch nemesises. In daylight, Robbie is not afraid to climb it, but in a nightly storm, Robbie practically soils his pants at the sight of it. With that tree, the storm, and his toy clown, we get the sense that Robbie Freeling  would jump at the sign of his own shadow.  But we soon learn that Robbie has a reason to fear those things.

The children end up sleeping in their parents’ bed, where we are yet again treated to the closing anthem of a daily programming’s end. This time, when the white noise pops up, we hear faint, whispering voices. Carol Anne approaches the television once again. This time, a ghostly arm creeps out of the television and shoots towards the wall causing the ground to quake, waking up the parents, to whom Carol Anne announces “They’re Here!” The next morning,  Diane Freeling asks Carol Anne to clarify that statement. She tells us that it’s “the TV People” who are “here.”

When she experiences the ghouls’ antic first hand, Diane actually turns an open mind to the situation and has a bit of fun with it, before letting her husband, Steve, in on it. Steve is a bit bewildered and cautious towards the idea of chairs and little blonde girls sliding across the kitchen floor. He orders Diane not to let anybody in the kitchen for a while, but it’s too late. Another storm rolls in, and the scary tree smashes through the window, grabbing Robbie and dragging him outside. His parents rush out to save him from being digested by the wicked tree while a huge tornado is rolling past them. We soon discover that the tree is a diversion so “the TV People” can snatch Carol Anne for their own purposes. Carol Anne, along with the contents of her room,  is sucked into the closet as Robbie is pulled out the tree just in time as it is sucked into the eye of the tornado, which now dissipates. The family realizes that Carol Anne is gone. While the family is searching throughout the house, it’s Robbie that soon discovers that Carol Anne is far beyond their grasp, as he hears her voice echoing from within the television! Now we realize that we are dealing with more than just our average “peek-a-BOO!”  ghosts. If these guys can make trees eat you and kidnap you away to the unknown, then we are in seriously deep trouble!

Carol Anne’s disappearance establishes a new theme in the film. Earlier on, we got our taste of fear and how the spirits will use that against us. Now we will see how they can take something important away from us, and leave us almost powerless to do anything about it. In a way, this particular act is a kidnapping story. Carol Anne has been abducted by these spirits, and her family has no idea how to get her back. Now take away the supernatural aspects and ponder on the subject matter for a moment. If you have a younger brother or sister or even children of your own, it’s not hard to imagine how terrified you would be if they were to disappear. It’s a chilling thought to even bring up, but the subject matter is what makes this particular story compelling.

Steve Freeling goes to see three parapsychologists, led by Dr. Lesh, who looks more like your loving aunt than she does a ghostbuster. Her comrades are Ryan, a slight optimist with the tech-knowledge, and Marty, who seemingly has the worse luck with ghosts. During their initiation with the Freeling’s household guests, they encounter bedrooms filled with floating memorabilia, encounter Carol Anne’s ambient voice in the living room, are introduced to the invisible entity that is holding her captive, and poor Marty gets bitten when he goes to check on the kids’ bedroom. Not to mention, random objects rain down from the ceiling. What’s going on here?

Later that night, Ryan and Marty speculate that the empty channels on the television is free to pick up roaming signals, including Carol Anne’s voice coming from “inner space” (a.k.a the other side) and that there is a ”bi-location” point (entrance and exit portals to the other side) inside their house. As the Freelings are camping out in their living room, Dr. Lesh tells Diane and Robbie about a light that you are supposed to go through when you die and that some ghosts don’t realize they are dead and find themselves lost.

While the others are sleeping, Marty go searching for food and encounters a living steak. When he shines a light on it, it tears itself from the inside. Marty then drops his half-eaten chicken leg on the kitchen floor and sees worms all over it. Marty runs into the kitchen and starts tearing the skin off of his face. Suddenly the ordeal is over, and turns out to be one big hallucination.

Meanwhile, in the living room, the camera starts moving on its own and aims its sights on the main staircase, where ghostly apparitions hover down
the staircase as the everybody watches the spectacle in complete awe. It is a beautiful and fascinating sight that quickly ends. Everybody gathers around the moniters and watches the playback and we get a good look at several spirits wondering down the staircase.

The next day, Steve Freeling goes for a walk with his boss, Mr. Teague, up on the hillside above Cuesta Verde. Mr. Teague attempts to sell Steve the idea of full partnership as if he’s selling him a toaster oven. Steven kind of chuckles over Teague’s offer and we notice that the picket fence they are walking next to is actually the boundaries of a local cemetery. Teague adds that they are moving to “Phase 5″ and that they already have plans to move the cemetery five miles down the road. Steve questions the morality of moving it, and Teague adds that they’ve done it before to make way for the Cuesta Verde estates. It is here where we start to get a good picture of what’s going on.

Back at the house, Dr. Lesh has returned with Tangina Barrons, a psychic woman who might be able to help them. After displaying her talent, she tells them all that Carol Anne is “alive and in this house.” She then educates them that there is actually no death at all, but a transition into another plain of existence and the evil entity, called “The Beast”, is confusing Carol Anne and using her control the other spirits and that the entrance point is up in the kid’s bedroom. They move up to the upstairs hallway and Tangina instructs Steve to call out to Carol Anne and use threats of punishment to reach out to Carol Anne psychologically to get her to respond, and it works. Diane is instructed to tell her run towards the light, which hurts Diane to say. Afterall, our instincts and logic are telling us that Carol Anne should not go into to light, but notice how Tangina told her to say “run towards the light” not to “go into the light.” Her plan is to not only make it easier to grab Carol Anne but to guide the lost entities into the light by having them following her towards it.

She then instructs everybody to clear their minds as the Beast knows our deepest and darkest fears and won’t hesitate to use them against us, as we’ve seen earlier in the film. With their minds clear, Tangina is able to open the room without floating record players and horse-galloping Hulksters, and we are treated to an excellent display of bright lights. They carry with them two balls, numbered 1 and 2, and a rope. Ryan is told to go downstairs and wait, and Diane is told to instruct Carol Anne to stop and stay where she is. And to give the audience a clear understanding of whats about to happen, Tangina performs a visual test by throwing the tennis ball into the bright light in the closet. The ball then shoots out of the exit point on the ceiling of the downstairs living room where Ryan catches it. The ball is now covered in pink ooze, known as ectoplasm.

They then switch the balls out for the rope, tossing it into the portal. Holding the rope on both sides are Steve at the top end and Ryan at the bottom. Diane raps the rope around her waste and shares a romantic moment with Steve before going off into the unknown. Tangina uses her psychic abilities
to call upon the spirits, designating them to go into the light with idea that there is peace and serenity in the light. Thinking that she is directing Diane and Carol Anne into the light, Steve starts reeling them back in. Tangina breaks comminication and shouts “Steven, not yet!” Steve pulls out a large, ghastly face! The frightened Steve drops the rope accidently. Luckily, Diane falls out the other end, unconscious, covered in ectoplasm, and holding Carol Anne. They rush them into the bathroom and rinse them off and in a tender, tearjerking moment, both Carol Anne and Diane awaken. It’s another good sign of a good horror movie when you actually care about the characters and hold an emotional investment, which makes the story a bit more compelling than the “hack n’ slash” chaos of Friday the 13th. Dr. Lesh shuts the door, and Tangina announces that “the house is clean.” All is seemingly well.