I think it would be safe to say that Shelly Winters was a versatile actress. When she was good, she was good, but when she was bad... well, stand back!

Winters made a few forays onto the small screen during the heyday of the Movie of the Week. It was here that she got to be at her most nefarious and she did it with such aplomb, it was almost impossible to take your eyes off the screen.

Such is the case with her 1973 TV Movie, The Devil's Daughter. Shelly is Lilith, a wealthy woman with a mute 'companion' (Jonathan Frid in a great performance) who takes in Diane (Belinda Montgomery) after her mother dies (Diane Ladd). The place is quite homey at first, well, except for that picture of Satan hanging over the mantle! Things are almost kind of Stepford-ian and definitely surreal - check out the twin sisters, one of whom is white and the other black! With some encouragement from her local pastor, Diane moves in with a girl her own age, but that won't stop Lilith from leading Diane to her birthright... as Satan's Daughter.

I just finished watching Attack of the Baby Doll and The Golem, two movies from Stunt Kitty Films. Both flicks are directed by Debora Roventini and written/produced by Rob Robinson. These are two no-budget video productions that look as if they were made with a low-grade home video camera. I mean, there are no production values at play here at all, especially in Attack of the Baby Doll. But I respect the effort Roventini and Robinson have put forth. Stunt Kitty Films has a website and several DVDs available for sale. They’re also making the rounds at various film fests, so they are definitely taking this seriously.

Attack of the Baby Doll is a short film about a former drag queen’s love of dolls, anchored around a musical number called “Drag Queen’s Lament,” which is styled and performed like a show tune. The whole affair is amateurish and misguided—it looks like something a high school drama student would film to display on YouTube. The lead performances by Phillip Faiss and Debora Roventini are terribly broad and mannered, and the whole thing is too long at 27 minutes.

Hollywood is cyclical. We all know this. When one studio releases, say, a “killer meteor” flick, you can be sure several more similarly themed movies will soon rain down upon us like, well, killer meteors. And the more that drop, the worse they’ll hurt. Over the past few years, we’ve been dealing with a rash of “women held captive” movies. Lately, that rash has gotten bad—red, inflamed, painful. Now, I don’t object to these films per se, but I’d rather hoped they had run their course, especially after the recent release of Captivity, seemingly the nadir of this particular genre.

Then I remembered: All it takes is one film to turn it all around. In this case, that film is The Cellar Door, a smart, taut exercise in psychological terror. Directed by Matt Zettell, The Cellar Door is the twisted story of Herman (James DuMont) and Rudy (Michelle Tomlinson). Herman is an average guy. He’s shy and awkward, and he lives alone and pretty much keeps to himself. He does have one interest, though—he’s a collector. He sees a pretty young lady and he collects her...literally. He’s even built a cage for these girls in his cellar. Rudy is a normal, attractive young woman. She likes to drink and dance, and she has a roommate. She also has the misfortune to catch Herman’s eye.