In the annals of cult cinema, few films elicit as much intrigue and confusion as Incubus (1966), a supernatural horror film that stars none other than Star Trek legend William Shatner in a decidedly different role than audiences were accustomed to. Directed by the underrated Leslie Stevens, Incubus is a strange, atmospheric blend of Gothic horror, eroticism, and psychological dread. It may not be the easiest film to digest, but its unique place in cinematic history, as well as its use of an experimental technique, has cemented it as a fascinating curio in Shatner's illustrious career.
The plot of Incubus is as bizarre and haunting as the movie itself. Set in an unnamed Eastern European village, the film follows a man named Charles (Shatner), a sensitive but troubled priest, who becomes entangled in a series of strange events surrounding the mysterious and supernatural force of an incubus—an evil demon who is believed to sexually prey on its victims. As the townsfolk are increasingly stricken with terror, the local clergy, including Shatner’s character, grapple with both their personal demons and the greater evil that threatens to consume them. The film is less concerned with coherent plot mechanics and more interested in building an unsettling atmosphere, drenched in shadows and unspoken tension.
What truly sets Incubus apart from other films in the genre, however, is its daring use of language. The entire film was shot in Esperanto, a constructed international language designed to be universally understandable. The choice to use Esperanto, while making Incubus somewhat of a linguistic oddity, gives the film a strange and disorienting quality. The characters speak in a language that many viewers are unfamiliar with, further emphasizing the movie's sense of isolation and detachment. In addition to its eerie, otherworldly tone, the language barrier almost becomes part of the story itself—a key element in creating an atmosphere of mystery and confusion. This decision, though ambitious, has been a point of contention among critics and viewers over the years. While it enhances the surreal feel of the film, it also leaves many wondering if it was an unnecessary complication that distracted from the story.
Shatner, at this point in his career, was still primarily known for his work in television, particularly for his role as Captain Kirk in Star Trek. While it is easy to associate Shatner with the brash, heroic, and confident Kirk, Incubus offers a much more reserved and fragile portrayal of the actor. His priest, Charles, is a man torn by both his duty and his growing connection to the supernatural forces plaguing the village. Shatner plays the role with an undercurrent of vulnerability, as the character’s internal struggles mirror the growing horror around him. It's a performance that stands in stark contrast to his later iconic portrayal of Kirk and proves that Shatner was, even in the early years of his career, a versatile actor capable of much more than one might initially assume.
The supporting cast of Incubus also contributes to its uneasy atmosphere. The female lead, played by actress Susan Strasberg, portrays a woman whose mysterious attraction to the incubus forces her into a tense and dangerous relationship with Shatner’s character. The film's other performances are notable for their eerie and dreamlike qualities. The ensemble cast of mostly unknown actors, working with the disorienting language and unsettling subject matter, creates a sense of collective alienation—appropriate given the supernatural and psychological elements of the plot.
Visually, Incubus is striking, even if it often ventures into the territory of "low-budget horror." The cinematography is drenched in heavy shadows, creating a feeling of claustrophobia that heightens the tension of the supernatural occurrences. Much of the film’s aesthetic is inspired by Gothic horror, with fog-drenched forests, imposing castles, and haunting interiors. It’s clear that the filmmakers were attempting to craft a mood rather than rely on traditional horror tropes. The use of lighting and angles is reminiscent of Nosferatu or The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, films that defined the visual language of horror cinema in its early years. There’s an artistry in the composition that gives Incubus a unique, timeless look that is still effective in generating an unsettling mood.
Incubus deserves recognition for its audacity and ambition. It’s a film that doesn’t neatly fit into any one genre, nor does it settle for the typical horror formula of its time. The use of Esperanto sets it apart from any other film in the genre and imbues it with a strange, dreamlike quality. In a way, the decision to use the language works as a metaphor for the entire experience of the film itself—unfamiliar, distant, and difficult to fully grasp. The viewer is left with more questions than answers, yet that very ambiguity gives Incubus a lasting sense of intrigue.
In the context of Shatner’s career, Incubus remains one of his more peculiar projects, but it also showcases his willingness to take risks. It’s easy to see how the film might have slipped through the cracks of mainstream cinema at the time, but its surreal, atmospheric qualities have helped it grow into a cult classic over the years. The film’s status as a cinematic oddity is undeniable, and for lovers of obscure horror and experimental cinema, it remains a fascinating relic of its time.
Ultimately, Incubus is a film that defies conventional expectations. It’s a slow burn of eerie tension, gothic atmosphere, and supernatural intrigue—a film that leaves you questioning its meaning long after the credits roll. It may not be for everyone, but for those willing to embrace its oddities and experimentations, it remains a singular achievement in the history of horror cinema. William Shatner may have gone on to conquer the stars in Star Trek, but with Incubus, he ventured into a much darker and more mysterious realm that is, perhaps, even more captivating.
The 4K restoration of Incubus (1966) offers a remarkable upgrade for fans of this cult horror film. It showcases the eerie supernatural tale in stunning detail. Restored from the last surviving 35mm print, this edition presents the film in a 4K (2160p) Ultra HD Blu-ray format with Dolby Vision, ensuring the atmospheric Gothic visuals are brought to life with exceptional clarity and depth.
The restoration includes the original lossless Esperanto mono audio track, maintaining the film's distinctive and otherworldly vibe, with optional English subtitles for those unfamiliar with the constructed language.
For those seeking deeper insight into the making of Incubus, there’s an array of commentaries and interviews. The new audio commentary by genre historian David J. Schow, author of The Outer Limits: The Official Companion, adds a scholarly layer, while the archive commentary by star William Shatner offers a rare and personal reflection on his involvement in the film. Additionally, an archive commentary by producer Anthony Taylor, cinematographer Conrad L. Hall, and camera operator William Fraker provides an insider’s look at the technical aspects of the production.
Fans of Incubus will also appreciate the alternate 1.37:1 presentation (available in 1080p), which offers a different viewing experience, complementing the standard 2.35:1 ratio. Specially commissioned for this release are two newly filmed interviews: Words and Worlds: Incubus and Esperanto in Cinema, with genre historian Stephen Bissette, and Internacia Lingvo: A History of Esperanto, featuring Esther Schor, author of Bridge of Words: Esperanto and the Dream of a Universal Language. Both interviews explore the significance of Esperanto within the film and in cinema history, shedding light on the film's unique language choice.
The archival content continues with a valuable interview with the filmmakers, where Schow converses with Taylor, Hall, and Fraker, diving deeper into the creation of Incubus. The package also includes the original video trailer, further enhancing the nostalgia factor for those who remember the film’s original release.
This Incubus 4K Blu-ray comes in a reversible sleeve showcasing newly commissioned artwork by Richard Wells. The illustrated collector’s booklet, which offers new writing on the film by Frank Collins and Jason Kruppa, rounds out this deluxe edition. These special features provide a comprehensive and insightful package, making this release a must-have for fans and cinephiles alike.
You can save 15% if you order from MVD!