Ah, the early ’70s, when horror films were equal parts occult paranoia, colonial guilt, and shag-carpet chic. Daughters of Satan (1972), directed by Hollingsworth Morse, may not be the crown jewel of occult cinema, but it’s an underrated curiosity — a supernatural slow burn where the paintings move, the dog disappears, and Tom Selleck’s sideburns nearly steal the show.
Tom Selleck Before Magnum
Long before Magnum, P.I. made him America’s moustachioed dreamboat, Tom Selleck was James Robertson, an earnest museum curator in Manila who buys the worst piece of antique art in history: a 16th-century painting of witches being burned at the stake. The catch? One of them looks exactly like his wife, Chris (Barra Grant).
This is the kind of red flag most husbands would run from. Selleck, being a dutiful horror protagonist, hangs it in his living room. Nothing says “marital bliss” like staring at your wife’s doppelgänger roasting on a pyre every time you pour a scotch.
The Painting That Wouldn’t Sit Still
The painting is the film’s best character. First the dog in the image disappears, then one of the witches, then another — each absence neatly corresponding to their arrival in Robertson’s real life. Juana (Paraluman), a suspiciously eager “housekeeper,” turns up. Kitty (Tani Guthrie), a dominatrix coven leader with a wardrobe straight out of Satan’s department store, shows up next.
By this point, even Selleck’s character begins to realize he might have purchased something more sinister than a piece of bad Renaissance art. This isn’t an antique; it’s a cursed storyboard.
Barra Grant: Bride, Witch, Murderer
Barra Grant plays Chris, who goes from newlywed to dagger-wielding assassin faster than you can say “I think we should see other people.” She’s sympathetic at first — disturbed by the painting, haunted by dreams — but once the witches get their claws in, she becomes a walking time bomb.
Her transformation is both creepy and tragic. She doesn’t want to betray her husband, but destiny (and the coven) won’t be denied. When she finally buries a dagger in Selleck, it’s not just murder — it’s marital inevitability. “Till death do us part” was less a vow than a spoiler alert.
Supporting Cast of the Damned
Tani Guthrie’s Kitty is camp perfection — a dominatrix witch who tortures, seduces, and purrs her dialogue like she’s auditioning for a Satanic cabaret. Paraluman’s Juana is equally unsettling, moving into the Robertson household uninvited like the world’s creepiest housekeeper. And then there’s Nicodemus, the dog, who fades in and out of the painting and occasionally looks more competent than any human in the movie.
Even Vic Díaz shows up — because it was the Philippines in the ’70s, and no horror film shot there was complete without him.
Hollingsworth Morse: Saturday Matinee Meets Satan
Morse, best known for directing family TV (Lassie, The Lone Ranger), probably wasn’t the obvious choice to helm a Satanic coven film. But maybe that’s why Daughters of Satan has such charm. It’s shot with workmanlike clarity, never arty, never subtle, but always straightforward: “Here’s Tom Selleck. Here’s a cursed painting. Here’s his wife stabbing him in the chest.”
No time wasted on ambiguity. Satan’s daughters are punctual.
The Ending: Destiny Always Wins
The finale is pure Gothic fatalism. James nearly escapes the witches’ elaborate death trap, but his survival is temporary. The coven’s curse is ironclad, the painting’s prophecy immutable. Chris, in tears, plunges the dagger into him as the painting fades. Love, lust, and witchcraft all collide in the office couch’s worst day ever.
It’s bleak, but appropriately so. You don’t buy a painting of your wife burning at the stake and expect to retire happy.
Dark Humor in the Firelight
The film has plenty of unintentional comedy. The witches conduct rituals like they’re auditioning for a particularly avant-garde fashion show. The dog Nicodemus is introduced with such solemnity you half-expect him to demand billing above Selleck. And the mortuary scene, complete with a coffin being prepared for James, is so on-the-nose it deserves a rimshot.
But the humor doesn’t undercut the horror — it makes it stranger, pulpier, and more fun. This is a film that knows its premise is wild and leans into it.
Final Verdict
Daughters of Satan isn’t a masterpiece of Euro-style Gothic horror, but it’s an entertaining occult curio with atmosphere, camp, and one of the most delightfully cursed MacGuffins in horror cinema: a painting that edits itself.
Leonard Maltin might have written: Daughters of Satan (1972). Museum curator (pre-Magnum Selleck) buys cursed painting; wife becomes witch. Campy, atmospheric, uneven but entertaining occult thriller. *** out of ****.
And the dark humor closer: In the end, Tom Selleck didn’t need a moustache to fight witches — he needed an interior decorator who could say, “Maybe skip the Satanic oil painting for the living room.”
