Wicked, Wicked is a film that could have been something daring and revolutionary. It could have been a thriller that played with the art of storytelling in ways never seen before. Instead, what it became was an overambitious mess, a B-grade slasher with an eye-popping gimmick, the kind of movie you might watch if you’re really curious to see just how many ways a film can squander a good idea and leave you wondering what went wrong.
Directed by Richard L. Bare, Wicked, Wicked was presented in the gimmicky “Duo-Vision,” also known as split-screen. And while this might sound like an exciting innovation for 1973, the reality is that this film feels less like an exploration of new cinematic territory and more like a desperate attempt to distract the audience from how uninspired the plot and performances are. It’s like watching two half-baked ideas battling for your attention, only neither is interesting enough to win.
The plot itself is a textbook example of a “who cares?” mystery. A hotel in California, the Grandview, is home to a dark secret: single blonde visitors who check in mysteriously vanish. Enter Rick Stewart (David Bailey), a hotel detective who begins investigating these strange disappearances, only to become personally involved when his ex-wife, Lisa James (Tiffany Bolling), shows up at the hotel for a singing gig. When Lisa decides to perform in a blonde wig (because, apparently, blonde wigs are the worst idea in horror films), she inevitably becomes the next target of a psychotic killer. It’s the kind of story that screams “I’ve seen this before” — and with better execution, might have actually been enjoyable.
The gimmick itself — the “Duo-Vision” — was supposed to be the big selling point of this film. And while it’s true that watching two images simultaneously on screen is initially interesting, it quickly devolves into an exhausting exercise in visual overload. It’s like staring at two separate jigsaw puzzles and trying to make sense of them both at once, except one puzzle is broken and the other is upside down. Instead of enhancing the film’s tension, the split-screen only highlights how painfully slow and tedious the film is, as if the director was trying to distract you from how little is actually happening. The Duo-Vision is meant to add complexity and excitement, but what it really does is create confusion and eye strain. By the time you’ve figured out which side of the screen you’re supposed to be looking at, you’re already three scenes ahead, still wondering what any of this has to do with a mystery involving disappearing blondes.
As for the performances, Wicked, Wicked doesn’t exactly bring out the best in its cast. David Bailey, playing the hotel detective Rick Stewart, is stiff and unremarkable. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he stumbles through his lines, his “detective work” more reminiscent of a bored office worker trying to solve a crossword puzzle on his lunch break. Tiffany Bolling as Lisa, the ex-wife turned victim, fares no better. She’s not terrible, but there’s nothing about her character that elicits much sympathy or concern — and frankly, it’s hard to care about her fate when you’re too busy trying to figure out where to look on the screen. Bolling later admitted that while she loved singing in the movie, the film’s cheap production values and lack of polish made the experience less fun in hindsight. It’s a sentiment that viewers are likely to share, as the film’s attempts at suspense and thrills are undercut by poor pacing, wooden performances, and a baffling lack of tension.
The true disappointment here is the villain, played by Randolph Roberts. The character, Jason Gant, is meant to be a brooding, dangerous figure, but Roberts’ portrayal is so flat and unconvincing that it’s hard to take him seriously as a psychotic killer. There’s no sense of danger or urgency in his scenes; instead, he lumbers around like a man who just stumbled onto the set and was told to act menacing without any direction. His transformation from “naive handyman” to “crazed killer” is supposed to be a high point, but it’s so poorly executed that you’ll find yourself wondering if it was supposed to be a comedy. The absence of a believable threat in the film makes the entire experience feel more like a dull chore than an engaging thriller.
The supporting cast, including Edd Byrnes and Scott Brady, does what it can with the material, but the script gives them little to work with. Their characters are as one-dimensional as the plot itself, and the film is so determined to push its “Duo-Vision” gimmick that it forgets to focus on developing any real emotional stakes or characters you might care about. Instead, we’re left with a series of half-hearted confrontations and a mystery that doesn’t have the intensity or cleverness needed to pull it off.
The film’s pacing is another problem. Even with two screens running at once, the movie feels agonizingly slow. For a thriller, Wicked, Wicked sure spends a lot of time watching people walk around aimlessly. The slow buildup to the film’s “big reveal” is so painfully drawn out that by the time we get there, it feels like an anticlimax. And the supposed “shock value” moments — designed to make you gasp or jump — fall flat, as they’re about as exciting as watching paint dry. The only real shock comes when you realize how little effort the filmmakers put into making this anything more than a novelty gimmick with no substance.
Ultimately, Wicked, Wicked is the cinematic equivalent of a half-baked idea stretched out over an hour and a half. The gimmick of split-screen storytelling, which could have been used to create a unique experience, ends up feeling more like a desperate ploy to distract from how lackluster the plot and performances are. If you’re in the mood for a slasher film with a gimmick that doesn’t work and a plot that never really comes together, then this is your movie. But for everyone else, Wicked, Wicked is a 1973 misfire that’s best left in the past — and in the “so-bad-it’s-embarrassing” pile.
