Ah, The Haunting of Morella. Proof that in the late ’80s and early ’90s, you could slap “based on Edgar Allan Poe” on anything and hope a few goth kids and horny teenagers would buy tickets. What Poe actually contributed here is debatable—probably just his last name on the movie poster while his ghost hovered nearby muttering, “I did not sign off on this.”
Directed by Jim Wynorski—yes, the auteur behind Chopping Mall—this is a supernatural horror film that thinks “period drama” means “everyone wears cleavage.” It’s equal parts Gothic horror, Cinemax After Dark, and low-budget community theater, wrapped in a thin plot about witches, inheritance, and Nicole Eggert trying very hard not to look embarrassed.
The Plot, or What Passes for One
Seventeen years ago, Morella, a witch with a penchant for eyeliner and evil incantations, was executed in Colonial America. She left behind her husband Gideon (David McCallum, clearly paying off a mortgage) and an infant daughter, Lenora.
Fast forward to Lenora’s teen years, where she’s poised to inherit money. Because nothing gets witches hotter than trust funds, Morella decides now is the time to rise from the grave by repossessing her daughter’s body. Cue spectral seductions, ritual sacrifices, and a lot of characters who wander onscreen long enough to get undressed and/or killed.
That’s the plot. Honestly, it could fit on the back of a cereal box, though that would at least come with a prize inside.
Nicole Eggert: Double Duty, Double Trouble
Nicole Eggert stars as both Lenora and Morella, which is either inspired casting or just what happens when your budget won’t cover two lead actresses. Eggert, best known for Baywatch and Charles in Charge, spends most of the film looking like she’d rather be literally anywhere else.
As Lenora, she’s doe-eyed and confused, wandering around like she accidentally walked into a Renaissance fair. As Morella, she’s supposed to be seductive and sinister, but comes off more like a teenager trying to pull off her mom’s “sexy witch” Halloween costume.
The movie promises a sinister witch’s rebirth and instead delivers Nicole Eggert frowning in candlelight while a fog machine wheezes in the background.
David McCallum: From The Man From U.N.C.L.E. to This Basement
David McCallum, once the epitome of suave espionage as Illya Kuryakin, now plays Gideon, the grieving husband who spends the film sulking, sighing, and clutching his temples. His performance screams “I’ll take the paycheck, but don’t make me read the script.” You can almost see him calculating how many car payments this role will cover.
To his credit, McCallum manages to bring some dignity to scenes that otherwise resemble high school drama club auditions. But when your character’s biggest accomplishment is failing to notice your dead wife is trying to repossess your daughter, dignity only goes so far.
The Supporting Cast: Cleavage and Cannon Fodder
Lana Clarkson shows up as Coel, looking like she wandered off the cover of a Conan the Barbarian paperback. Maria Ford appears as Diane, a character whose sole function seems to be writhing in various states of undress before something bad happens.
Most of the female cast exists for gratuitous nudity, because Wynorski knows his audience: not Poe enthusiasts, but bored teenagers in 1990 hoping for a VHS tape with enough flesh to make the fast-forward button obsolete. The rest of the characters are glorified extras who wander into Morella’s orbit and promptly get punished for existing.
Jim Wynorski’s Gothic Strip Show
Wynorski has never been accused of subtlety, and The Haunting of Morella doubles down on his brand: cheap sets, cheaper thrills, and more soft-focus nudity than your average late-night cable lineup.
This is Gothic horror as filtered through a beer commercial. The film desperately wants to be atmospheric but mostly looks like it was shot in someone’s garage decorated with drapes from a thrift store. Candles everywhere! Fog everywhere! And yet, somehow, zero atmosphere.
If Edgar Allan Poe had actually written The Haunting of Morella, it would have been three paragraphs long and dripping with dread. Wynorski’s version stretches into ninety minutes of “What if Dracula, but everyone takes their top off?”
The Horror: Or Lack Thereof
There are no scares here. None. Unless you count the horror of realizing you paid actual money to rent this.
The killings are forgettable, the witchcraft rituals look like LARP practice, and the special effects wouldn’t frighten a toddler. The scariest thing in this movie is the thought that someone thought this was a good idea.
The “possession” scenes, where Morella tries to reclaim her daughter’s body, should feel sinister and claustrophobic. Instead, they feel like the director yelled, “Look angsty! Now squint harder! Perfect!”
Box Office Death and Home Video Resurrection
Unsurprisingly, The Haunting of Morella bombed when it trickled into theaters across the Midwest. Variety described the box office as “weak,” “tepid,” and “dismal”—which is critic code for “please stop showing this in theaters, you’re embarrassing us all.”
Of course, the film eventually found its natural habitat: VHS shelves at sketchy video rental stores, nestled between Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama and Witchcraft IV: The Virgin Heart. And, like a witch who just won’t die, it eventually got a DVD and Blu-ray release. Because apparently, everything gets resurrected, no matter how much it begged to stay buried.
Poe’s Rolling Bones
It’s almost insulting that this film is marketed as “based on Edgar Allan Poe.” Yes, Poe wrote a story called Morella, but it’s a short, eerie tale about obsession and reincarnation—not an excuse for softcore vampire cosplay.
If Poe were alive today, he’d probably sue for defamation, or at least haunt Wynorski’s house until he repented. Instead, Poe’s name gets slapped on the box cover to lend legitimacy to a film that has as much to do with Gothic literature as a Halloween Spirit store.
Final Thoughts: Less “Haunting,” More “Haunted by Regret”
The Haunting of Morella is not scary, not sexy enough to qualify as exploitation, and not dramatic enough to be Gothic horror. It’s just… there. A limp, fog-drenched mess of clichés, nudity, and squandered potential.
Nicole Eggert tries, David McCallum cashes a check, and Jim Wynorski proves yet again that he’s the king of turning potentially fun B-movie ideas into straight-to-video purgatory.
If you want Poe-inspired horror, read Morella. If you want Wynorski-style camp, watch Chopping Mall. If you want both, The Haunting of Morella is your cursed middle ground—a movie that proves some corpses should stay in the ground.
