Editorials
How ‘The Entity’ Turned a Story of One Woman’s Suffering to Paranormal Propaganda– & Profit

The alternate title for this article was “Exploiting Abuse for Ghost Stories, Profit, And Fun”, but I figured that would be too much of a downer.
I am a skeptic about the paranormal. I always have been, and I probably always will be. Do I wish all ghost hunters out there would find something other than the occasional sparkly orb? You bet. Do I want the Mothman and all his precognitive, disaster-causing diva moments to be real? I have the themed sweatshirt to prove it. But I often find the most interesting cases of supernatural phenomena to be the ones with interesting people at the center of them. It’s why I can get invested in someone’s personal ghost story, but something that tries to take an objective stance usually fails to impress; the evidence is usually circumstantial at best and manufactured at worst.
Take for instance the Winchester Mystery House, which was the subject of its own film in 2018 inventively titled Winchester. I will always find myself enamored with how a house with a bizarre layout became the subject of supernatural speculation over the course of decades because journalists just went running with it. The idea that a house might have just been built complicated on accident because an unbelievably rich person made it, someone who couldn’t spend all of her inheritance in one lifetime and did so incompetently, is to me much funnier and more interesting than it being a maze for evil spirits.
And this is why, when a picture starts to form of the person investigating “objectively”, I lose the forest for the trees and really start focusing mostly on the investigator.
This is how I feel about the story behind 1982’s The Entity. It’s a solid supernatural film, but its effects and illusions, its brutal horror, and its harrowing ending pale when put up against the very odd real-life people the film is based on; it’s a spawning point of pseudo-science in the intrepid age of the 70s, the birth of two celebrity parapsychologists, and the story of how an abused woman’s suffering became a golden goose.
FROM TRUE STORY OF TERROR TO SUPERNATURAL CINEMA
The Entity is an adaptation of the novel of the same name, which is heavily based on the 1974 case of Doris Bither. A single mother of four living in Culver City, she reported being attacked by three invisible, demonic forces that repeatedly sexually assaulted her throughout her life. Disbelieved by almost everyone, she ended up accidentally running into two of the biggest parapsychologists of all time, Barry Taff and Kerry Gaynor, who made it their mission to discover the truth—her truth. Bither took her case to their pirate parapsychology laboratory operating out of UCLA’s main campus—not funded or approved of by the university itself, they were just renting space in the neuroscience building and doing whatever they liked in the name of supernatural research. They had a dark room and a dream, and by Jove, they were going to find some weird stuff out there.
The lab saw a lot of visitors because, given it was the Age of Aquarius and a lot of weird experimental stuff was going on with psychedelics and new-age spiritualism, everyone wanted in on the psychic phenomena the lab was exploring. Everyone from director William Friedkin to officials with the U.S. Army’s very own Stargate Project visited to try and get a look; the latter would be one of the many government projects that would serve as the inspiration for Stranger Things, Scanners, Firestarter, and pretty much every Stephen King character with the shining, so thank them for wasting taxpayer dollars but bringing us some cool media in the process.
BARRY AND KERRY’S BIG INVISIBLE BREAK
The chief investigators on the Bither case were Taff and Gaynor, who spent nearly 3 months returning to Bither’s house, a condemned building where they claimed to have objects thrown at them by spirits and suffered through rapid fluctuations in temperature. Bither’s dilapidated home was just one of the signs of her many years of struggle; she reported being abused as a child and suffered from addiction to various stimulants for much of her life.
The few photographs that survived the investigation are your typical affair. Orbs floating through the frame, arcs of light, all seemingly thought to be the three invisible assailants. Few actual photos made it out due to errors in processing the film, but it didn’t quite matter; Taff and Gaynor had much more titillating stories make it to the mainstream without pictures, such as Doris’s son putting on a Black Sabbath record that went so hard it caused baseball cards to levitate in the room.
Much like in the film’s very memorable and very haunting conclusion, Doris Bither never got her closure; by most accounts, she continued to be terrorized by the entities on and off, but they eventually visited with such infrequency she didn’t bother reporting it at all. She eventually lost contact with anybody who had been following the case altogether. Taff and Gaynor walked away from the investigation with more recognition, and author Frank De Felitta ended up making a worldwide best-selling novel of the events thanks to his correspondence with them and Bither. That book, The Entity, eventually became the film we know today, with Felitta adapting it into the screenplay which 20th Century Fox picked up. The rest is history.
The film’s main conflict is of course between our Doris proxy, Carla Moran (played by the unbelievably talented Barbara Hershey), and the singular Entity abusing her; though it was derided at the time for its exploitative scenes, many film scholars and fans find it a still relevant allegory for the force of sexual abuse on the psyche and the dismissal of sexual victimization among women who suffer it. I would have to agree. But the film also has what I believe to be some rhetorical goals related to the lab that the investigators belonged to.
UCLA VERSUS THE PARAPSYCHOLOGY LAB
Taff ended up being a technical advisor on the film, and it’s kind of obvious given the nature of his work and the way the plot is structured. It poses the characters of Sneiderman and Weber, the psychiatrist and university professor who deny Carla’s claims are supernatural, against Dr. Cooley (a stand-in for the real-life Thelma Moss who helmed the rogue parapsychology lab at UCLA and employed Taff and Gaynor). The movie does end in a way that villainizes Weber, as he runs away from the truth of the situation and elects to believe they suffered a mass delusion together. While the film doesn’t undercut the real Doris Bither’s story with a happy ending, it does very much paint the people who ran the university in a bad light.
I think the film has an agenda behind it, reflecting what I believe to be Taff’s personal beef with the university administration and those skeptical of his work. In another article, he identifies Dr. West, the head of the UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute during the late 70s, as a man trying to “bury him” and the parapsychology lab for the media attention it was getting. The university had put them between a rock and a hard place, as they could no longer fund themselves and occupy the space in the lab; they were also unable to accept any grants for psychic research from government agencies on behalf of the university because the field is pseudoscientific at best, and donor funds being spent on that research could have damaged the school’s reputation severely.
He claims he had prophetic dreams of the shutdown, which do strike me as at the very least, resentful of the situation, if not the university as a whole given their apocalyptic nature; these dreams include mentions of Dr. West’s sister who had died of cancer being depicted as a decayed corpse and a doomsayer for the lab, which is struck by an earthquake in his nightmare. According to Taff, West never found out about the dream, and the lab was subsequently shut down in 1978.
In this light, the film feels like propaganda for all the Bither researchers involved. And Taff’s story provides great insight into how the lab has been mythologized, and why that propaganda is valuable. As much as Taff would like to act like they were silenced by West and UCLA, the parapsychology lab is still the stuff of legends thanks to the Bither Case and The Entity, as well as all of Taff and Gaynor’s own media appearances. To a good chunk of paranormal enthusiasts, they are still the rockstars of parapsychology. They saw a lot of success from the case, success that no sources indicate Doris Bither saw a share of. To this day, Taff is still a technical advisor for films and TV.
THE SANITIZATION AND SIMPLIFICATION OF THE DORIS BITHER CASE
As cynical as it is, part of me feels there is a desire to be propped up as the good guys here, in a very black and white way that denies the grey that is introduced by skepticism of their explanation. It depicts a university’s desire to avoid political and financial hot water as selfish. It paints the lab as a bastion of dangerous information, holding the keys to precognitive and telepathic powers. And it’s a symptom of something that gives me pause whenever I watch The Entity. It’s too clean of an answer.
I think the narrative of The Entity itself does sanitize the likely reality of what was happening to Doris Bither, ironically so given it is thematically screaming about everything that happened to her. I think it rejects the idea that Bither’s suffering could have been more complicated than ghosts; it minimizes the real horrors Bither went through, her substance abuse and likely C-PTSD from a trauma-filled childhood. It ignores the poverty she was living in for something much more comfortably frightening. It’s hard to face that societal and psychological conditions might be harder to tackle than spirits and monsters for most people. Even if they had gotten rid of the entities, what about all of her other problems?
I’m not trying to disparage Taff and Gaynor for their beliefs. Still, it stands to reason that the fame and recognition they got from celebrities, the media, and the government might have driven them to embellish details and benefit from missing materials. It might have encouraged them to make a complex woman’s life simple. And at the end of the day, nothing really is ever that simple. Few things ever end neatly, and the Bither case still resonates today because of that.
Because despite its relatively small impact on the cinematic landscape, The Entity is the farthest thing from simple when you get a good look at how it came about.
Editorials
Is ‘Scream 2’ Still the Worst of the Series?

There are only so many times I can get away with burying the lede with an editorial headline before someone throws a rock at me. It may or may not be justified when they do. This article is not an attempt at ragebaiting Scream fans, I promise. Neither was my Scream 3 article, which I’m still completely right about.
I do firmly believe that Scream 2 is, at the very least, the last Scream film I’d want to watch. But what was initially just me complaining about a film that I disregard as the weakest entry in its series has since developed into trying to address what it does right. You’ve heard of the expression “jack of all trades, master of none”, and to me Scream 2 really was the jack of all trades of the franchise for the longest time.
It technically has everything a Scream movie needs. Its opening is great, but it’s not the best of them by a long shot. Its killers are unexpected, but not particularly interesting, feeling flat and one-dimensional compared to the others. It has kills, but only a few of them are particularly shocking or well executed. It pokes fun at the genre but doesn’t say anything particularly bold in terms of commentary. Having everything a Scream movie needs is the bare minimum to me.
But the question is, what does Scream 2 do best exactly? Finding that answer involves highlighting what each of the other sequels are great at, and trying to pick out what Scream 2 has that the others don’t.
Scream 3 Is the Big Finale That Utilizes Its Setting Perfectly
Scream as a series handily dodges the trap most horror franchises fall into: rehashing and retreading the same territory over and over. That’s because every one of its films are in essence trying to do something a little different and a little bolder.
Scream 3 is especially bold because it was conceived, written, and executed as the final installment in the Scream series. And it does that incredibly well. Taking the action away from a locale similar to Woodsboro, Scream 3 tosses our characters into the frying pan of a Hollywood film production. Despite its notorious number of rewrites and script changes (one of which resulted in our first solo Ghostface), it still manages to be a perfect culmination of Sidney Prescott’s story.
I won’t repeat myself too much (go read my previous article on the subject), but 3 is often maligned for as good a film as it turned out to be. And for all of its clunkier reveals, and its ghost mom antics, it understands how to utilize its setting and send its characters off into the sunset right.
Scream 4’s Meta Commentary Wakes Scream from a Deep Sleep
As Wes Craven’s final film, Scream 4 has a very special place in the franchise. It was and still is largely adored for bringing back the franchise from a deep 11-year sleep. With one of the craziest openings in any horror film, let alone a Scream film, it sets the tone for a bombastic return and pays off in spades with the journey it takes us on.
Its primary Ghostface Jill Roberts is a fan favorite, and for some people, she is the best to ever wear the mask. Its script is the source of many memorable moments, not the least of which is Kirby’s iconic rapid-fire response to the horror remakes question. And most importantly, it makes a bold and surprisingly effective return for our main trio of Sidney, Dewey, and Gale, whose return didn’t feel trite or hammy when they ended up coming back to Woodsboro for more.
Craven’s work on 4 truly understands the power its predecessors had exerted on the horror genre, both irreverent in its metacommentary and celebratory of the Scream series as a whole. The film is less of a love letter to the genre and more of a kicking down of the door to remind people what Scream is about. 4’s story re-established that Scream isn’t going away, no matter how long it takes for another film, and no matter how many franchises try to take its place.
Scream 5 & 6 Is Radio Silence’s Brutal and Bloody Attitude Era
Put simply, Scream 5 and 6’s strong suit was not its characters. It was not its clever writing. The Radio Silence duology in the Scream series excelled in one thing: beating the hell out of its characters.
Wrestling fans (of which there is an unsurprising amount of crossover with horror fans) will know why I call it the Attitude Era. Just like WWE’s most infamous stretch of history, Radio Silence brought something especially aggressive to their entries. And it’s because these films were just brutal. Handing the reins to the series, Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillet gifted a special kineticism to the classic Scream chase sequences, insane finales, and especially its ruthless killers.
All five of the Ghostfaces present in 5 and 6 are the definition of nasty. They’re unrelenting, and in my humble opinion, the freakiest since the original duo of Stu Macher and Billy Loomis. Getting to hear all the air get sucked out of the room as Dewey is gutted like a fish in 5 was still an incredible moment to experience in theatres, and it’s something I don’t think would have happened if the films were any less mean and any less explosively violent.
So, What Does Scream 2 Do Best Exactly?
So now, after looking at all these entries and all of their greatest qualities, what does Scream 2 have that none of the others do? What must I concede to Scream 2?
Really great character development.
Film is a medium of spectacle most of the time, and this is reflected in how we critique and compliment them. It affects how we look back on them, sometimes treating them more harshly than they deserve because they don’t have that visual flash. But for every ounce of spectacle Scream 2 lacks, I have to admit, it does an incredible job of developing Sidney Prescott as a character.
On a rare rewatch, it’s clear Neve Campbell is carrying the entirety of Scream 2 on her back just because of how compelling she makes Sidney. Watching her slowly fight against a tide of paranoia, fear, and distrust of the people around her once more, watching her be plunged back into the nightmare, is undeniably effective.
It’s also where Dewey and Gale are really cemented as a couple, and where the seeds of them always returning to each other are planted. Going from a mutual simmering disrespect to an affectionate couple to inseparable but awkward and in love is just classic; two people who complete each other in how different they are, but are inevitably pulled back and forth by those differences, their bond is one of the major highlights throughout the series.
Maybe All the Scream Films Are Just Good?
These three characters are the heart of the series, long after they’ve been written out. I talk a big game about how Scream 3 is the perfect ending for the franchise, but I like to gloss over the fact that Scream 2 does a lot of the legwork when it comes to developing the characters of Dewey, Gale, and especially Sidney.
Without 2, 3 just isn’t that effective when it comes to giving Sidney her long deserved peace. Without 2, the way we see Sidney’s return in 4 & 5 doesn’t hit as hard. All of the Scream movies owe something to Scream 2 in the same way they owe something to the original Scream. I think I’ve come to a new point of view when it comes to the Scream franchise: maybe there is no bad entry. Maybe none of them have to be the worst. Each one interlinks with the others in their own unique way.
And even though I doubt I will ever really love Scream 2, it has an undeniable strength in its character writing that permeates throughout the whole franchise. And that at the very least keeps it from being the worst Scream film.
Editorials
The Halloween Franchise Peaked With H20 Here’s Why

I’m going to begin this conversation with a sort of insane thought. Halloween as a franchise maybe should have ended with its first film.
That’s not to say there’s no value in the Halloween films. Much to the contrary, I like the first three films a lot. I recommend Halloween 3: Season of the Witch to people an annoying amount; I even try to watch it a few times every October to keep the vibes up. And as you already know from clicking on this article, I enjoy Halloween H20: 20 Years Later quite a bit.
I’ve even softened up on the Rob Zombie remake duology over the years. I don’t like them, but it’s like getting flowers, I can still appreciate them. However, Halloween, as a series, has long suffered from its own success. And sometimes, it feels like it’s just going to keep suffering.
HALLOWEEN’S FIRST BOLD CHOICE AFTER 16 YEARS OF WAITING
It’s easy to forget that John Carpenter’s original Halloween was effectively the Paranormal Activity of its time. Flipping a cool $70 million and change off of a $300,000 budget, it has had a genuinely immeasurable impact on the cinematic landscape and how horror films are made.
For some, that’s a bad thing. Notoriously, my beloved 3rd entry in the franchise was considered a hard misstep by audiences. Everyone knows the story; the resounding “Where’s Michael?” response to the third entry gunned down Carpenter’s desires to turn Halloween into an anthology series. So, after going into hiding for 5 years, Halloween 4 continued the story of Michael in 1988.
And then it just kept going.
As the years went on, it became progressively harder and harder to innovate, resulting in some very odd plotlines and tones. Which is why Halloween H20 is where the franchise peaked. Because it had a rare essence to it. It had guts.
It was willing to actually kill the series once and for all, even if it was impossible to do so.
EVIL DOESN’T DIE TONIGHT, THE CONTRACT SAYS SO
Before David Gordon Green’s reboot trilogy brought Laurie back as a Sarah Connor style badass, H20’s pre-production had reinvented Strode to usher in the 20th anniversary of the first film. She went from a resilient young woman into a traumatized survivor running from her past.
The original concept for Halloween H20 involved a substance abusing Laurie Strode trying to get clean so she could die with dignity against an escaped Michael. In a turn of events, she would find the will to live and kill him once and for all. It was a concept Jamie Lee Curtis was passionate about, understandably so. Laurie wasn’t the first final girl, but she was the codifier for that ideal, in a way Jess Bradford and Sally Hardesty before her weren’t. It would have made for a harrowing exploration of what was debatably the most important final girl ever.
That isn’t what happened.
There is an infamous video from a Q&A panel with Jamie Lee Curtis where she explains that the blame for Michael surviving H20 lies primarily with one man: the late great Moustapha Akkad. Akkad was famous for his business acumen, but that desire to see the Halloween franchise make bankroll had ultimately stolen away Laurie’s triumphant victory over Michael.
You see, Akkad had written a clause into the contracts surrounding the film. A clause that she could not, in no uncertain terms, kill Michael Myers. Michael would live, no matter what Laurie did. But thanks to the meddling mind of Scream creator Kevin Williamson, who had been brought on to work on the screenplay for H20, Laurie did get her vengeance in a way.
LAURIE STRODES RETURN DONE RIGHT
The actual H20 follows Laurie Strode in hiding years after Halloween 2, ignoring the events of the sequels. She’s the headmistress of a boarding school, living under a fake name far from Haddonfield with her son. But still, she can’t let go of that Halloween night. She sees Michael’s face, The Shape, everywhere. She can barely stomach talking about what happened. But when Michael kills Dr. Loomis, nurse Marion Chambers, and then finds her, Laurie is forced to face her greatest fear once and for all.
And she does. After a prolonged chase and fight on the grounds of the school, she refuses to let a wounded Michael be taken into custody. Stealing a cop’s gun and an ambulance, Laurie runs Michael off a cliff and pins him against a tree with the vehicle. She shares a brief moment with him, inscrutable eyes reflecting Michael’s. They could be expressing a number of possible emotions. Is it empathy? Hatred? Pity? Fear leaving her for the final time?
Regardless of what it is, she’s done feeling it. With a hefty swing, she decapitates him with a fire axe, ending Michael for the last time. It’s over.
Roll credits. Audience cheers. The world is healing.
AND THEN HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION HAPPENS
Yes, and then Halloween: Resurrection happens. Laurie is killed in the first few minutes, revealing that Michael pulled the old bamboozle switcheroonie in the previous film. She had actually just killed an ambulance driver that Michael had put the mask on. Williamson’s trick of making both Laurie and the audience believe they had killed Michael worked. But that same trick curled a finger on the monkey’s paw and led to what is definitively the worst film in the franchise.
A proto-internet streamer subplot. The kid from Smart House is there for some reason. Busta Rhymes hits Michael Myers with the Charlie Murphy front kick from that one Dave Chappelle sketch about Rick James.
Roll credits. The audience boos. Everyone who spent money on it feels like they’re being stamped to death by horses.
HALLOWEEN AS A FRANCHISE IS TERRIFIED OF ENDINGS
And this is why I say that Halloween H20 is probably the best we’re going to get out of the series, maybe ever. It is a series that, at its core, has had producers terrified of endings since even Halloween 2. Carpenter never intended there to be a sequel, or any follow ups for that matter. That was mostly the work of producer Irwin Yablans, who pushed hard to continue the story of Michael. And then, eventually, it was the work of every other producer who demanded they milk Halloween for all its worth.
H20 is a film that is antithetical to that idea. When watched as intended, ignoring Resurrection, it’s fantastic. As the end of Laurie and Michael’s story, one that shows evil is weak without fear to bolster it, it is pretty much the perfect finale. Hot off the heels of Scream’s success in 1996, H20 is often talked about as an attempt to cash in on the meta-horror craze of the 90s and early 2000s. The way people discuss it, you would think it was supposed to be a tongue-in-cheek slasher that made fun of itself and Halloween’s legacy. But in reality, aside from its humor, it ends up being quite reflective and thoughtful of that legacy.
It’s not spiteful of the films that came before it because it ends by tricking the audience. It’s what that trick represents, boldly spitting in the eye of Halloween being held prisoner for money. Mocking Halloween being stuck in an eternal cycle of rinsing and repeating the same events. It doesn’t care about franchising or longevity; it cares about telling a good story and letting its hero rest. It’s respectful to Carpenter’s creation in a way that other attempts to continue the series simply weren’t.
H20 TELLS AN ENDING, HALLOWEEN ENDS TRIES TO SELL YOU ONE
It begs the question: why does H20 work here in how it ends the series, but Halloween Ends doesn’t?
All of Ends biggest issues stem from the fact that, unlike H20, it’s trying to sell you an ending instead of making one that feels right. The maudlin closer it gives doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel true to the Laurie it shows us, or any other iteration of the character for that matter. It doesn’t feel genuinely emotional in any regard.
And that’s because Ends as a whole doesn’t have the spirit that H20 does. Ends is, first and foremost, a highlight reel reminding you of how cool Halloween is instead of understanding why any of its previous entries were effective. From its marketing to its incredibly clunky climax, it feels like it’s an advertisement for never letting go of Halloween, even when it should have been done a while ago. And that’s just the wrong lesson to leave on.
JANET LEIGH’S CAMEO IN H20 SPEAKS VOLUMES
Halloween H20 has a pretty famous cameo from Janet Leigh in it, an OG scream queen and the real-life mother of Jamie Lee Curtis. In it, they have a heart-to-heart as fictional characters Laurie Strode and Norma Watson. It’s made more impactful when you realize it was Leigh’s penultimate film performance, and her final performance in a horror film.
The moment serves as a cute in-joke on their real-life relationship, but more than that, it foreshadows the film’s ending. Norma urges Laurie to move past her fear, to relish her future as a survivor instead of being caught up in the past and reliving the same night over and over again.
I find this scene even more poignant now, seeing how neatly it reflects on what has happened to Halloween as a franchise in the years since the original, and especially since H20. It’s a series that got stuck in trying to continue the same story and just got progressively worse at it. In some way, it feels like it’s urging us to make a choice. No matter how deep a legacy of fear may be, it must come to an end at some point. There is no need to cling to the same stories over and over. We can enjoy them for what they are without returning to them.
No matter what the future of the Halloween franchise is, only a viewer themselves can choose where the story ends. It doesn’t matter how many times the studio brings him back, you have to make the choice. Only you decide when it ends. And for my money, H20 is the best ending you can ask for.