Myra Savage isn’t just your run-of-the-mill psychic. She’s got ambition; the woman just needs a little free media. So it is in Seance on a Wet Afternoon, a psychological thriller starring Kim Stanley (The Right Stuff) as the aforementioned psychic and Richard Attenborough (Jurassic Park) as her long-suffering, henpecked husband, Billy.

The pair kidnap the daughter of a wealthy London couple in a cockamamie scheme that would find Myra demonstrating her clairvoyant chops to police by helping them find the girl. But the best-laid plans of mystics named Myra, wouldn’t you know, oft go astray. Or something like that.

Stanley, an American actress whose most notable work had been on the stage, only snagged the role of Myra after a string of other would-be leads, including Deborah Kerr and Shelley Winters, fizzled out. Good for the gods of casting. Stanley, magnificently creepy as the increasingly unhinged woman, earned a Best Actress Oscar nomination for Seance, but lost to Julie Andrews, who had more pleasant interaction with children in that year’s Mary Poppins.

Attenborough, who also co-produced, is every bit her equal. The direction by Bryan Forbes (1975’s The Stepford Wives) is sharp, unfussy and atmospheric. It’s a perfect picture to DVR and watch on a wet afternoon. —Phil Bacharach

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If we are to believe the opening titles of Cut!, the indie thriller found inspiration in real-life events. Either writer/director David Rountree took no more than a fraction of a kernel of the truth or he’s planted it as a joke as the Coen brothers did with Fargo. Whichever option is correct, credibility is the picture’s largest liability, because so cockamamie are the main characters’ actions, I was unable to suspend disbelief. That crucial scripting mistake gets in the way of one’s enjoyment.

Cast as his own leading man, Rountree (Cameron Romero’s laborious Staunton Hill) plays Travis, an average Joe who toils in the film industry. Okay, so it’s just renting equipment, but what he really wants to do is direct, man!

Cut! Credibility Killer #1: Travis enlists the help of co-worker Lane (David Banks, who co-wrote and co-produced), an ex-con who purposely alienates customers to Travis’ utter annoyance, in the creation of a low-budget project.

Cut! Credibility Killer #2: Name-dropping the ROI bonanzas of The Blair Witch Project and Paranormal Activity, Travis and Lane decide to make not a piece of found-footage fiction, but a dead-serious Scare Tactics-esque prank movie consisting of scenes in which they frighten unwitting prostitutes.

Cut! Credibility Killer #3: On parole and ever-psychotic, Lane convinces Travis that it’d be a good idea to give a homeless man $100 and a really sharp knife to “wave around” one of the whores. This leads to a lady of the night having no nights left to live.

But won’t that gory “accident” make for captivating cinema? Well, no. Although Rountree attempts to explain away all the motivations that simply do not jibe with basic human behavior and logic, his resolution does not work. Cut! climaxes with the kind of ludicrous, pull-the-rug exposition dump-cum-narrative twist that since 2004 has become known and ridiculed as “the Saw ending.” As if the heap of preposterousness hasn’t been piled high enough, his own Saw ending begets another Saw ending! The rubber band of rational thought broke long before.

Removed from the film, the core premise has potential; its details just need redressing. Rountree’s donning of so many hats — he also edited and produced, in addition to the three aforementioned duties — likely was a matter of necessity in bringing Cut! to fruition; ironically, in doing so he has spread himself too thin, leaving viewers with a weak plot and weaker performances, yet also a finished product that looks great. The multihyphenate has an eye for composition, but a deaf ear for dialogue. —Rod Lott

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Also known under the far less exploitative title of Act of Vengeance, the AIP release Rape Squad is one of those strange drive-in thrillers that packs a feminist message of female empowerment, but only after giving audiences gratuitous images of the women being groped and molested.

Lunch wagon proprietor Linda (Jo Ann Harris, The Beguiled) is the film’s first and foremost victim, raped by a man dressed right out of a slasher series, what with his hockey mask and orange jumpsuit. During the assault, he creepily “requests” that she sing “Jingle Bells” because — his words here, so don’t shoot the messenger — “Music is always good with ballin’!”

When she finds other women who underwent similar trauma, she excitedly poses the hence-the-title question, “How do you feel about forming a rape squad?” Even without Linda explaining what a rape squad is or does, and what privileges its membership possibly could have, the ladies are all-in. It entails taking karate classes, followed by a nude group Jacuzzi bath, then turning the tables on predatory dudes via such methods of dying their dicks blue. Activism never felt so … I dunno, primary-hued?

Bob Kelljan of AIP’s Count Yorga pictures directs from a script credited in part to Betty Conklin. Don’t be fooled thinking a woman had any creative say on this uncomfortable revenger, as that’s a nom de plume for David Kidd, scribe of The Swinging Cheerleaders, which I’m guessing isn’t to be found on Gloria Steinem’s shelves. —Rod Lott

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