Nothing’s quite as scary as the films you watched alone and late at night as a kid, even grainy reruns of old TV movies. That was my introduction to No Place to Hide, a 1981 CBS thriller starring Kathleen Beller (Dynasty‘s Kirby Anders). She plays Amy Manning, a mousy art student with a stalker, a man in a ski-mask and dark sunglasses. He finds her when she’s alone at night and opts for psychological torture over physical, telling her “Soon, Amy, soon.”

This October, nostalgic for something spooky, I decided to rewatch it and see if it held up. The search was more complicated than expected—it’s not currently available on subscription streaming services, DVD, or Blu-ray. It was last released on videocassette in 1989, by Video Treasures (later known as Anchor Bay). Fortunately, several retro YouTube channels currently offer it, one complete with original commercials.

Phantom Stalker…or Phantom Illness?

The teleplay, credited to Jimmy Sangster of Hammer Horror fame, kicks off with some pleasingly hokey suspense as Amy wrecks her car in an encounter with her stalker. She then lands at the police station, sketching him as a scenery-chewing detective (Sandy McPeak) rants and raves at her. She’s made these accusations before, and no one believes her; time and again, the investigations have been fruitless.

Soon she’s collected by her mother, Adele (Mariette Hartley), as supportive as she is impeccably put-together. Adele warns Amy she’ll face a nuisance charge if she files another police report, but also has an idea. What if they get an expert on their side, someone who can attest to Amy’s sanity? “Mother, I don’t need a psychiatrist! I’m not crazy,” Amy angrily insists. “I know that,” Adele assures her, instead recommending she see Dr. Cliff Letterman (Keir Dullea), the clinical psychologist who helped Adele following the death of Amy’s father.

Amy dutifully complies. “Why does this have to be so complicated?” she asks her new therapist during a contentious session. “Why can’t you just believe me? This man is real!” She shows him another message from her stalker. Letterman expresses his doubts in a way that strikes a chord with Amy:

“Amy, I understand why it’s important to you that I believe that this man exists, but it’s important to me that we explore all the possibilities. You see, there’s one that really concerns me. That’s the possibility that somehow you feel responsible for your father’s death, and that you deserve to be punished for it. But because your morality won’t allow you to punish yourself, you’ve invented a nemesis to do it for you.

“That’s the possibility that worries me. That—wait a minute, just hear me out, then we can talk about it—you say that you don’t want to kill yourself. Fine. But if I’m right, you won’t have to. He’ll do it for you. Can’t you see? You have created your own executioner. Your subconscious has helped you to invent the perfect scapegoat. You won’t leap off the top of a building to your death, you’ll be pushed.”

Confrontation at the Cabin

With his theory in mind, she decides to confront her feelings about her father’s death by visiting the cabin where it happened—the cabin where she had planned to join him before canceling to spend time with a boyfriend instead. After enjoying an idyllic evening there with Adele, who’s later called away on business, Amy gets another of those sinister “Soon” messages, and her stalker finally makes his move.

These developments, and the introduction of David (Gary Graham), a law student and prospective love interest, are entirely perfunctory. The screenplay drops a series of anvils, not breadcrumbs, starting with the revelation that Adele is actually Amy’s stepmother. It also emerges that Amy, three months shy of 21, is on the cusp of receiving a large inheritance. Alas, the family’s trusted lawyer, James (Arlen Dean Snyder), has reservations about an unstable young woman who “might have suicidal tendencies” assuming control of such a fortune.

It’s safe to say anyone who’s not a dopey kid, as I was when I first watched this, will crack the plot in less than 10 minutes. Nothing about the performances compensates for the lazy writing or John Llewellyn Moxey’s tepid direction: Beller is all eyes; Dullea’s dull but competent; and Hartley’s coolly professional in a role that mostly keeps her boxed in. There’s a reason this one never made it to DVD.

… But Wait, There’s More!

There’s a scene of Hartley dialing a phone with a pencil, an action some of us found enthralling as kids. But the unedited YouTube presentation’s big draw is the original 1981 TV commercials and newscast previews. One, anchored by Connie Chung, is about the Atlanta Child Murders; another rapid-fire LA news teaser simply says, “At home with a transsexual family, 7:30 tomorrow!”

My favorite commercial featured Jaclyn Smith lounging glamorously while selling perfume. “Maybe your mother never told you there’s more to being a woman than minding your manners,” she says. “I’m Jaclyn Smith, and being a woman means sometimes taking the first step first. There’s a new fragrance that understands, Epris. Epris is a little unsettling, a little disturbing. Epris is a most provocative fragrance. If mama never told you, I’ll tell you. Part of the art of being a woman is knowing when not to be too much of a lady. Epris by Max Factor.”