Body Horror, Bold Performances, and Barbara Crampton in Leather
Released in 1986, From Beyond is a splattery, neon-soaked descent into Lovecraftian terror—unflinchingly weird, disturbingly erotic, and unapologetically gooey. Directed by Stuart Gordon and based on H.P. Lovecraft’s short story of the same name, it reunites Gordon with Jeffrey Combs and Barbara Crampton, the trio that struck cult gold with Re-Animator just a year prior.
Where Re-Animator flirted with madcap black comedy, From Beyond slinks further into horror’s psychosexual shadows. It’s a tighter, moodier, and arguably more mature film—less frantic, more atmospheric, and far more grotesque. The themes are darker, the violence more twisted, and the body horror reaches new, squirm-inducing heights.
And yet, despite its grimy tone and slippery tentacles, From Beyond is a surprisingly bold and intelligent film. It’s about obsession, addiction, perception, and control. But it’s also about eyeballs being sucked out of heads, naked S&M gear, and pulsating pineal glands. Somehow, it manages to be both lurid exploitation and cerebral sci-fi horror—anchored by strong performances, especially from Barbara Crampton, whose turn here breaks genre boundaries.
It’s not a perfect film. It’s not for everyone. But for horror fans who like their nightmares gooey, sexual, and tinged with existential dread, From Beyond remains a uniquely disturbing pleasure.
The Plot: Awaken the Pineal Gland
The story kicks off in a shadowy mansion-slash-laboratory where Dr. Edward Pretorius (Ted Sorel) and his assistant Dr. Crawford Tillinghast (Jeffrey Combs) are experimenting with a device called the Resonator. Inspired by Lovecraft’s fascination with extra dimensions, the Resonator stimulates the pineal gland—an organ supposedly tied to extrasensory perception.
When the machine is switched on, users can perceive things from a parallel dimension. But the flip side is, creatures from that dimension can perceive them. And they don’t just want to say hello.
The Resonator opens a literal gateway to madness. Pretorius is mutilated by one such being, leaving Tillinghast traumatized and institutionalized. Enter psychologist Dr. Katherine McMichaels (Barbara Crampton), who takes an interest in Crawford’s story and convinces authorities to let her accompany him back to the house to investigate.
With skeptical detective Bubba Brownlee (Ken Foree) in tow, they return to the scene of the crime. The Resonator is turned on once more. And what unfolds is a journey into transdimensional horror where bodily transformations, sexual obsession, and power lust merge in horrific ways.
The plot is straightforward—but the experience is anything but. It’s a sensory assault, full of fleshy visuals, dream logic, and creatures that slither right into your subconscious.
Jeffrey Combs: From Frazzled to Mutated
As Crawford Tillinghast, Jeffrey Combs once again proves that few actors can convey intellectual obsession and barely-contained terror as effectively. Unlike the arrogant and intense Herbert West from Re-Animator, Crawford is more of a broken man. He’s not a genius with a God complex—he’s a reluctant witness to something his mind can barely contain.
Combs plays the role with twitchy paranoia and vulnerability. As the film progresses and the Resonator begins to alter him, he doesn’t overplay the mutation. His performance stays grounded even as his body becomes less so. There’s a moment where his pineal gland (now a wriggling antenna-like appendage protruding from his forehead) seeks “brain food,” and instead of devolving into camp, Combs makes it genuinely unsettling.
This is Combs doing what he does best—playing men who walk the fine line between genius and madness, between curiosity and doom.
Barbara Crampton: Horror Royalty in Dominatrix Leather
If From Beyond belongs to anyone, though, it belongs to Barbara Crampton.
As Dr. Katherine McMichaels, she begins as a buttoned-up psychologist looking for answers. But what’s fascinating is how her character evolves—not just in the standard horror arc sense, but in a deeply psychological, even sexual, sense. Katherine is drawn to the Resonator not just for science, but for the sensations it unlocks. Her transformation is both mental and physical. At one point, she dons black leather lingerie found in Pretorius’s S&M dungeon—not under duress, but out of desire. The look is iconic, and Crampton wears it with full commitment.
This is where From Beyond does something most horror films don’t. It lets the female lead explore power, dominance, and desire without punishing her for it. Yes, she suffers. Yes, she’s terrified. But she’s not reduced to a victim. If anything, she’s the most complex and active character in the film. Crampton plays it with nuance—never going too big, never shrinking away. She owns the film in a way few scream queens ever do.
It’s no surprise that From Beyond helped solidify her reputation as one of horror’s most fearless and versatile actresses.
Ted Sorel as Pretorius: The Flesh is Willing
Then there’s Pretorius—our villain, if we can call him that. Ted Sorel delivers a performance that veers between seductive guru and grotesque monster. After his transformation, he becomes a shapeshifting, oozing embodiment of excess, sexual hunger, and control. Imagine a David Cronenberg villain dipped in Vaseline.
The visual effects team goes wild with his design. He shifts form, absorbs others into his gooey mass, sprouts phallic tendrils, and speaks in an oily, commanding tone. Every time Pretorius appears, it’s a mix of dread and disgust—exactly what a good body horror villain should provoke.
The Effects: Practical Gore and Lovecraftian Slime
Let’s talk about the effects, because this film is a landmark of 1980s practical horror.
The creature design, handled by John Naulin and Anthony Doublin, is gloriously disgusting. There’s a clear Cronenberg influence, but with more slime, more pinkish-gray flesh, and more mutation. Heads stretch, skin melts, bodies fuse together, and tentacles wriggle with a life of their own.
The makeup on Combs’ pineal gland mutation is particularly unnerving. It pulses. It looks wet. And it never lets you forget that the human body is being invaded by something it was never meant to handle.
But what’s remarkable is that these effects are never just for shock value. They serve the film’s themes. Every gooey transformation represents a loss of control—a surrender to sensation, obsession, and madness.
Themes: Sensation, Power, and Obsession
At its core, From Beyond is about the limits of perception. What happens when you can see things others can’t? What happens when you feel more? And what happens when that heightened state becomes addictive?
The Resonator is a stand-in for everything from psychedelic drugs to sexual awakening to unbridled ambition. It offers power, pleasure, and danger. Pretorius seeks it because he wants to dominate. Katherine gets seduced by it but eventually resists. Crawford gets altered by it and ultimately must destroy it.
These are classic Lovecraftian ideas—things man was not meant to know. But Gordon injects them with modern anxieties: about the body, control, and pleasure. It’s not just that seeing other dimensions drives you mad—it’s that part of you wants to be mad. The terror lies in enjoying the transformation.
Direction and Atmosphere: Stuart Gordon’s Gothic Lab
Stuart Gordon directs with a sure hand, balancing moments of quiet dread with explosive horror. The mansion set is perfect: high ceilings, drafty hallways, a basement laboratory that could double as Frankenstein’s playground. It’s an enclosed, theatrical space—echoing Gordon’s background in live theater.
Lighting plays a big role. The Resonator bathes rooms in eerie purple-pink hues that make everything feel otherworldly. The line between reality and hallucination is constantly blurred. It’s a small film, budget-wise, but it feels expansive thanks to smart production design and confident direction.
The film is tight—just under 90 minutes—but it never feels rushed. There’s room for character development, philosophical musings, and of course, a generous helping of monster mayhem.
Score and Sound: Tension in the Ether
Composer Richard Band once again delivers a score that lifts the film’s tone. Less cheeky than Re-Animator, the music here is haunting and pulsing. It underscores the emotional shifts: curiosity, fear, pleasure, and chaos. The use of ambient tones and slow, building synths fits the theme of altered states of consciousness.
Sound design is equally important. The hum of the Resonator is ever-present when it’s activated—a low, vibrating tone that puts the viewer on edge. It’s like the machine is alive, hungry, and whispering.
Weaknesses: Not for All Tastes
Despite all its strengths, From Beyond won’t be for everyone. It’s deeply weird, unapologetically sexual, and viscerally grotesque. For some viewers, that’s a plus. For others, it may be off-putting.
The final act, while visually inventive, becomes a bit chaotic. The creature effects start to overshadow the characters, and the resolution feels slightly abrupt. Some critics argue the film is more style than substance. But even then, what style it has.
Some lefties will complain about the dated gender tropes, particularly in the marketing and some of the costume decisions. Yet, unlike other exploitation horror, From Beyond seems aware of what it’s doing. The S&M imagery isn’t played purely for titillation—it’s about power, control, and surrender. Barbara Crampton’s character has agency, even when things spiral out of control.
Final Thoughts: A Horror Rarity That Still Resonates
From Beyond is a rare beast. It’s both exploitation and art, both pulp and philosophy, and it sticks with you—not just for the gore, but for what it says about human desire, control, and the hunger to know more than we should.
In an age where horror is often sanitized or over-explained, From Beyond still feels dangerous. It pokes at the boundaries of perception, body, and consent. It’s a film that wants you to feel unsettled—and succeeds.
And through it all, Barbara Crampton emerges as the emotional and thematic heart of the movie—a scientist, a survivor, and a symbol of temptation and strength. Her performance grounds the surreal horror in something real. It’s sexy, smart, and strong—a combo too rare in the genre.
Rating: 8.5/10 – From Beyond is a slimy, sexual, and sinister gem of 1980s horror. Not for the squeamish—but essential for fans of Lovecraftian dread and daring performances.
