Some films try to be profound, others try to scare the hell out of you. The Reincarnation of Peter Proud does neither—at least not with any kind of success. Directed by J. Lee Thompson, this 1975 horror film takes a premise so laughably ridiculous that it should be embarrassing to watch, but instead, it somehow becomes magically boring. Here we have a university professor who’s haunted by bizarre dreams, believes he’s the reincarnation of a murdered man, and spends the entire film running around trying to convince us that this is somehow profound. Spoiler alert: it’s not.
Let’s take a moment to discuss the plot, which tries its hardest to be this dark, intricate exploration of reincarnation, fate, and family drama but ends up as a series of melodramatic, sleep-inducing scenes. Peter Proud (Michael Sarrazin) starts having recurring nightmares about a man’s murder. This sends him on a journey of self-discovery, where he convinces himself that he’s the reincarnated soul of Jeff Curtis, a man murdered years ago. So, what does he do? He travels to the location of his supposed past life, where the action includes driving from town to town, staring at buildings, and generally looking as confused as the audience. It’s about as thrilling as watching paint dry.
The Dreams That Don’t Even Try to Haunt You
The concept of reincarnation is a goldmine for horror, but here, it’s treated like a slow, half-baked experiment in existential dread. Peter has these dreams—so vivid, so bizarre—that we, the audience, should be on the edge of our seats, right? Wrong. The nightmares are more of an exercise in “I’ve seen this before” than a gateway into any deep horror. Peter’s first real vision involves witnessing his past self being murdered by a woman, but it’s shot with all the intensity of a lazy afternoon nap. The dream plays out, Peter screams in his sleep, and you’re left wondering why you’re not out there, living your life, instead of getting dragged through this half-hearted exploration of whatever it is that Peter is trying to “discover.”
Even the “revelations” that follow are about as subtle as a brick to the face. Peter spends the movie trying to piece together what’s happening, but each new “discovery” feels less like a plot twist and more like an excuse to waste time on more tedious conversations. This movie could have been 45 minutes shorter and still left you wondering why the hell you bothered. At least then you wouldn’t have had to endure the dream sequences that go on forever and don’t even leave a mark on your consciousness.
Michael Sarrazin’s Boring Attempt at Being a Leading Man
Sarrazin’s performance as Peter Proud can be summed up in one word: apathetic. If there were an award for playing the world’s most lifeless protagonist, Sarrazin would have it in the bag. He spends the entire film looking like he’s just been woken up from a nap and asked to act like he cares. I get it—his character is supposed to be troubled, perhaps even tortured, by the concept of his past life, but instead of acting tortured, Sarrazin just looks like he’s waiting for his coffee to kick in. He stumbles through scenes with the kind of energy that makes you wish he’d just taken a nap and let someone else deal with the ghost of his former self. Watching him try to emote is like watching a rock try to convey emotion—an act of nature so futile that it becomes amusing.
Margot Kidder: The Best Thing in a Sea of Mediocrity
Now, let’s talk about Margot Kidder, who, bless her, is the only thing keeping this sinking ship afloat. She plays Marcia, the wife of the man Peter believes he’s reincarnated from. Marcia is deeply disturbed by Peter’s obsession with the past and her increasingly chaotic behavior. Kidder does the best she can with the material, though honestly, that’s like trying to polish a turd and calling it a diamond. But in a film this dreary, she’s the one who stands out as the only remotely interesting person. When she’s on screen, at least you’re not wishing for a fast-forward button.
The Romance That Feels as Dead as Peter’s Past Life
There’s also the romantic subplot between Peter and Ann (Jennifer O’Neill), Marcia’s daughter, because what else do you do in a slow-moving film about reincarnation and murder? Why not throw in a little “forbidden” romance between the reincarnated guy and the daughter of the woman he was once married to? But the chemistry? Well, there isn’t any. The relationship is about as engaging as a pamphlet on dryer sheets. Peter’s pursuit of Ann is about as emotionally stimulating as reading a cereal box. She’s there, he’s there, they look at each other occasionally, but that’s the extent of the passion. The romance never evolves beyond the “I guess we’re doing this” phase, and you don’t care if they end up together or not.
The Ending: The Movie Finally Gives You Something to Feel, But It’s the Wrong Thing
The film finally does get to a climax—well, sort of. Peter makes his way to the lake where Jeff Curtis was killed, the location of his past life’s demise. It’s all supposed to be a big moment, where everything comes crashing down, and Peter has some kind of grand revelation. But the whole scene, like the rest of the film, is as flat as a pancake that’s been sitting on a kitchen counter for three days. Marcia shows up, armed with a gun, and there’s a confrontation. It’s supposed to be this tragic moment of closure, but instead, it feels like it’s been dragged out for far too long, like the movie’s been running on empty for hours.
Marcia shoots Peter, and the audience is left with the kind of sad, inevitable feeling that comes when you realize you’ve wasted your time. The reincarnation concept ends up being a cheap trick, designed to get you to care, but it never lands. The final moments of the film do what the rest of it could not—make you feel something. That something is frustration, mixed with relief, because it’s finally over.
Conclusion: Just Avoid It
The Reincarnation of Peter Proud is a slow, painful slog through an idea that should have stayed on the cutting room floor. It’s a film that’s too stupid to be taken seriously, too dull to be considered entertaining, and too lazy to be remotely fulfilling. If you’re in the mood for a psychological horror that barely manages to hit the “horror” part of the equation, then sure, give it a watch. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. The reincarnation of Peter Proud? More like the reincarnation of cinematic mediocrity. You’re better off watching paint dry or re-reading the phone book.
