More Mood Than Murder
Stage Fright (1980), not to be confused with the more famous Italian slasher by the same name, is a lesser-known Australian psychological thriller that sits in an awkward space between art-house ambition and B-movie execution. It stars the beguiling Jenny Neumann, still riding the wave of cult appeal from films like Mistress of the Apes, and serves as a time capsule of early ’80s Ozploitation cinema—full of atmospheric tension, fractured identity themes, and slow-burning mystery. Unfortunately, it’s also full of aimless pacing, thin character work, and a narrative that doesn’t quite stick the landing.
It’s not a terrible film, but it’s not a particularly good one either. It lingers in that cinematic purgatory where a few stylistic choices and one captivating performance aren’t quite enough to elevate a fragmented script and questionable direction. It’s watchable, and for the right viewer, even occasionally fascinating—but calling it essential would be a stretch.
The Plot: A Ghost, A Trauma, A Stage
The story follows Helen Selleck (Jenny Neumann), a young actress haunted by the traumatic memory of witnessing her mother’s violent death. Years later, she lands a role in a new stage production where eerie coincidences and unsettling visions begin to plague her. The theater becomes the site of psychological unraveling, as past trauma and possible supernatural interference blur the line between reality and delusion.
It’s a familiar setup—trauma meets theater meets ghostly weirdness—and the film leans hard into ambiguity. Is Helen being stalked by a killer? Is she going insane? Is her mother’s spirit trying to reach out? Or is this all just symbolic noise about guilt and repression? Stage Fright wants you to feel disoriented, and to its credit, it often succeeds. Unfortunately, it also leaves the viewer with more questions than answers, and not in the good, David Lynch kind of way.
Jenny Neumann: Center Stage
As with Mistress of the Apes, Jenny Neumann remains the most interesting thing onscreen. She brings a fragile intensity to Helen that grounds the film even when the script lets her down. There’s something elusive about her—part tragic waif, part haunted woman—that works perfectly for the role. Her presence has always carried a sense of vulnerability tinged with sexuality, and here it’s put to good use.
That said, the film doesn’t give her much to work with emotionally beyond the trauma flashbacks and long, pensive stares into mirrors. It gestures toward psychological complexity but never really explores it. Neumann does her best to keep things compelling, but even her charisma can’t completely disguise the thinly written character arc.
Atmosphere Over Answers
Where Stage Fright shines is in its mood. The cinematography has a hazy, dreamlike quality. The theater setting is used to solid effect—claustrophobic, full of shadows, and always carrying the potential for something to lurk behind the curtain. The editing and music choices are occasionally inspired, bordering on giallo-like in certain sequences. There’s a voyeuristic, slow-creeping dread that works well during the first half.
But that dread never quite builds to anything. Suspense fizzles. Scenes meander. The third act, instead of delivering a shocking revelation or cathartic resolution, just kind of… happens. You expect a big twist or a brutal payoff, but what you get is a muted shrug of an ending. It’s like someone built a rollercoaster, led you up the incline, then turned off the power before the drop.
A Movie for a Certain Mood
This isn’t the kind of horror film that satisfies gore hounds or fans of clean, Hitchcockian plotting. It’s more interested in tone and repression, a character study dressed up as a ghost story. There’s value in that approach, but only if the character study is deep enough to support it. Stage Fright doesn’t quite get there.
Still, for fans of obscure horror and early Aussie thrillers, this one is worth a late-night watch. It has that grainy, under-the-radar feel of a lost VHS gem. And of course, Jenny Neumann remains a reason to tune in. She commands the screen with a natural allure, even when the material gives her little to say.
Final Verdict
Stage Fright is a moody, slow-burn psychological thriller with flashes of promise and a solid lead performance. But it’s ultimately undone by a scattershot script, shallow characterization, and a finale that leaves too much unresolved. It’s not a total misfire—just a film that never quite commits to being either fully suspenseful or fully psychological.
If you go in expecting atmosphere, vague trauma metaphors, and Jenny Neumann looking hauntingly beautiful in gauzy lighting, you’ll probably find something to appreciate. Just don’t expect the chills—or the thrills—to stick with you after the curtain falls.
