Summer of Fear (1978): Witchy Women, Equestrian Jealousy, and Lee Purcell’s Hair Stealing the Spotlight

Back in the days when made-for-TV movies came with more melodrama than logic and less budget than a used horse trailer, Summer of Fear emerged from the cauldron of 1978 like a lukewarm spell gone slightly sideways. Based on the novel by Lois Duncan (of I Know What You Did Last Summer fame), this film offers a witchy mystery, a whole lot of horse grooming, and a fascinating power struggle—not between good and evil, but between Linda Blair’s permanent pout and Lee Purcell’s dangerously captivating face.

Let’s call it what it is: this isn’t a horror classic. But it’s the cinematic equivalent of a school field trip to the occult section of the library—safe, mildly thrilling, and prone to mood swings.

The Plot: Cousin Trouble, with Extra Hex

Linda Blair plays Rachel Bryant, your average teenage horse girl with a wealthy family, a cozy life, and bangs that could hold up during a hurricane. Her peaceful world implodes when her cousin Julia (Lee Purcell) arrives after a tragic car accident wipes out her immediate family. Julia seems nice at first—quiet, polite, helpful—but she’s got that slightly too calm vibe, like someone who’d burn incense at her funeral while flirting with her boyfriend.

Things go downhill fast. Rachel’s horse freaks out. Her grades drop. Her boyfriend gets a little too cozy with Cousin Julia. And let’s not even talk about the séances, sudden aversions to garlic, or mysterious fires. Before long, Rachel suspects that sweet little Julia might be a black magic–wielding imposter. And, spoiler: she is. Surprise! Julia isn’t Julia. She’s a witch. Probably named something like Lilith or Belzebeth or AOC.

Linda Blair: From Spinning Heads to Eyebrow Raises

Post-Exorcist, Linda Blair was still trying to outrun demonic possession and a reputation that screamed “troubled teen” louder than a daytime talk show segment. In Summer of Fear, she plays the beleaguered final girl with as much conviction as the script allows, which is to say: she emotes like she’s reading her lines off a teleprompter taped to the family dog.

Her character is perpetually confused, suspicious, or frazzled—basically a walking CliffsNotes version of “teen in peril.” And while Blair tries to anchor the movie in something resembling emotional stakes, it’s hard to feel too bad for someone who lives in a sprawling ranch house with the best hay barn west of the Mississippi.

Lee Purcell: Bewitching in Every Way

Now let’s talk about the real MVP: Lee Purcell, whose face deserves its own billing. As Julia, she slinks into the movie like a snake in designer boots. Her voice is honey-dipped and her wardrobe screams “haunting my way to prom queen.” She’s not just evil—she’s stylishly evil, the kind of villainess who could ruin your life, then help you write a college essay about it.

Even when she’s brushing horses or serving tea, there’s an unmistakable vibe that she’s reading your soul and judging your aura. You could hang meat off the chill in her voice. She doesn’t overplay the role, which makes her even more unsettling. If you’ve ever had a friend get replaced by a too-perfect cousin at Thanksgiving, this is that—plus Satan.

Purcell’s Julia is what happens when the devil decides to go blonde and learn how to bake.

The Witchcraft: More “Sabrina” Than Satanic Panic

This was made-for-TV, so don’t expect pentagrams carved into flesh or goats giving TED Talks. The magic here is subtle—books with ominous titles, weird dreams, horses losing their minds. There’s even a “spirit photograph” sequence that would’ve rocked your grandma’s macrame world.

The big “spooky” climax involves a frantic car chase and a final confrontation that is only marginally less dramatic than your average PTA meeting. The stakes? Rachel might lose her boyfriend and… sanity? Maybe? Or her horse, which honestly seems more precious to her than her family.

Fashion, Flares, and Feathered Hair

This is peak late-’70s: bell-bottoms wide enough to sweep a gym floor, flannel shirts tucked into high-waisted jeans, and hair so feathered it looks like every character came straight from the set of a Breck commercial.

Even the lighting feels nostalgic—washed out, golden, and one flashlight away from a Scooby-Doo crossover. You half expect someone to pull a rubber mask off Lee Purcell’s face and say, “It was old Miss Crabtree all along!”

What Works

• Lee Purcell’s ice queen performance: the kind of slow-burn villainy that makes you rewatch scenes just to catch the side-eyes.

• The quaint horror charm: It’s hard to be scared of wicker furniture and ranch life, but it feels eerie.

• The buildup: While the climax lands soft, the journey keeps you watching with just enough suspense to make you check your cousin’s birth certificate.

What Doesn’t

• Linda Blair’s acting: earnest, yes. Subtle, no. Her shocked expressions cycle through the same three modes: startled, confused, and chewing gum.

• The pacing: It meanders. A lot. You could clean a barn during some of these scenes and not miss a plot beat.

• The budget: This movie was shot on what appears to be a gift card and a coupon for free horse grooming.

Final Thoughts: Saddle Up for Softcore Satanism

Summer of Fear is neither terrifying nor terrible. It’s a made-for-TV witch movie that plays like a spooky teen soap opera with a horse subplot and exactly one actress who knows what kind of movie she’s in.

It’s campy, dated, and frequently slow — but if you grew up in the ’70s or ’80s, it’s the kind of movie that flickered across your childhood like a half-remembered dream involving shag carpet, Ouija boards, and casseroles that smell like regret.

And through it all, Lee Purcell shines like a cursed jewel in a denim sea of mediocrity. She’s the reason to watch. Not the plot. Not the scares. Just that face, that tone, and the low-key satisfaction of watching her steal Linda Blair’s thunder and then ride off into the fog of cult TV legend.

Final Grade: 5.5 out of 10 Cousins From Hell