You’ve probably seen the memes or heard the riffs. If you are a fan of Mystery Science Theater 3000, the The Touch of Satan movie is basically legendary for a single, baffling line: "This is where the fish lives." It’s delivered with such deadpan sincerity by a young woman standing next to a murky pond that it has become a permanent part of the cult movie lexicon.
But honestly? There is a lot more to this 1971 independent horror film than just bad dialogue and "walnut ranching."
Most people dismiss it as just another piece of drive-in fodder that happened to get roasted by Mike and the bots. While it is definitely slow—kinda like watching molasses race a glacier—it actually features some high-caliber talent behind the scenes who went on to do massive things in Hollywood. We’re talking about the guy who shot Blade Runner and the makeup artist who defined 70s body horror.
What Really Happens in The Touch of Satan?
The plot is a weird mix of 19th-century folk horror and 1970s road trip vibes. Our protagonist is Jodie (Michael Berry), a guy driving a Ford Maverick across the country to "find himself." He’s the quintessential 70s drifter, rocking a haircut that makes him look like a low-budget David Spade.
He stops at a farm to have some lunch and meets Melissa (Emby Mellay).
Melissa is... different. She lives on a walnut farm with her parents and her "great-grandmother," Lucinda. The "great-grandmother" is actually a homicidal, withered woman who lives in the attic and occasionally escapes to murder local farmers with a pitchfork.
The Big Twist (Spoilers, obviously)
As Jodie and Melissa fall in love—over very long, quiet scenes of them walking through meadows—the truth comes out. Melissa isn't a teenager. She’s a 127-year-old witch. Back in the day, an angry mob tried to burn her sister, Lucinda, at the stake. To save her, Melissa made a deal with the Devil.
The catch? Melissa stayed young forever, but Lucinda became a mindless, aging monster possessed by a demon.
By the end of the movie, Jodie finds himself in over his head. After Melissa "frees" herself through their romance, she instantly ages into a corpse-like state. To save her, Jodie does exactly what she did a century prior: he sells his soul. It’s a bleak, circular ending that feels way more sophisticated than the rest of the movie's "zah!" energy would suggest.
Why the Production Pedigree is Actually Insane
If you look at the credits of the The Touch of Satan movie, you’ll see names that belong on an Oscar stage, not a "worst movies of all time" list.
- Jordan Cronenweth: He was the cinematographer for this film. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because he later shot Blade Runner. You can actually see the seeds of his genius here. There are these long, circling 360-degree shots and "painterly" lighting choices that are way too good for a movie about a killer grandma in a shed.
- Joe Blasco: The makeup artist. He’s a legend in the industry who went on to work on David Cronenberg’s Shivers and Rabid. He’s also the guy who founded the Joe Blasco Makeup Centers. The "Old Lucinda" makeup is actually pretty effective and creepy, even if the movie doesn't know how to use it.
- Robert O. Ragland: The composer. He was a prolific B-movie scorer who knew exactly how to make a low-budget scene feel ten times more dramatic than it actually was.
It’s one of those cases where the individual parts are much better than the whole. The movie sat on a shelf for years after being filmed between 1968 and 1970. It didn't even get a real release until 1971, and even then, it mostly played at drive-ins under titles like The Curse of Melissa.
The MST3K Effect: Blessing or Curse?
Let’s be real. Without Mystery Science Theater 3000, nobody would be talking about this movie in 2026.
Episode 908 of MST3K turned this obscure horror flick into a cult classic. The "fish lives" line, the jokes about walnut ranching, and the riffs on the father’s resemblance to orchestral conductor Herbert von Karajan (a very deep cut, even for Mike Nelson) gave the film a second life.
But there’s a downside.
The "riffing" version of the movie cuts out a lot of the atmosphere. When you watch the unedited The Touch of Satan movie, it has this oppressive, quiet, sun-drenched dread that feels a bit like Midsommar’s weird, distant cousin. It’s not "good" in a traditional sense, but it’s definitely evocative.
"Is 'fish' singular or plural? In this movie, it's a philosophy." — Every MST3K fan ever.
Filming Locations: The Real Santa Ynez
Most of the movie was shot in the Santa Ynez Valley in California. It’s beautiful country, which adds to the film’s strange "sunny horror" vibe.
The grocery store where the locals hang out and act weird? That’s a real place. In fact, fans have tracked it down—it’s now an upscale restaurant and bakery. Sadly, they don’t sell Carnation ice cream anymore, and the staff probably won't appreciate you yelling "Zah!" as you walk out.
The farm itself was a real working ranch. The isolation you see on screen wasn't movie magic; it was just the reality of rural California in the late 60s.
Actionable Takeaways for Horror Fans
If you're thinking about diving into the The Touch of Satan movie, here is how to actually enjoy it:
- Watch the MST3K version first. It provides the necessary context and humor to get through the slower sections. It’s widely considered one of the best episodes of the Sci-Fi Channel era.
- Look for the lighting. If you're a film nerd, pay attention to Jordan Cronenweth's work. It’s a masterclass in how to make a $10 budget look like $100.
- Don't expect an "exorcism" movie. Early marketing tried to sell it as a The Exorcist clone, but it's not. It's a tragedy about a girl who made a bad deal.
- Check out the "The Touch of Melissa" cut. Some versions of the film are slightly different. If you can find the uncut independent release, the ending hits a lot harder without the jokes.
The The Touch of Satan movie is a prime example of "Accidental Art." It’s a movie that tried to be a serious, poetic horror film and failed just enough to become something hilariously memorable, while accidentally being beautiful to look at.
Whether you're there for the walnut ranching or the cinematography, it's a 90-minute trip into a very specific kind of 1970s weirdness that we just don't see anymore. It reminds us that even "bad" movies often have the DNA of future masterpieces hidden in their credits.
To get the most out of your viewing, try to find the Shout! Factory TV version which includes annotations. This helps explain some of the more obscure cultural references that have aged since the 70s. For a deeper look into the cinematography, compare the outdoor shots in this film to Cronenweth's later work in Blade Runner to see how he evolved his use of natural light.