AS OF YESTERDAY, THE BTINTERNET BUGGERS WERE STILL AT IT, DESPITE A UK READER ASKING THEM TO NOT BLOCK THE MONITOR—ESPECIALLY AS SPAM.

12 March—In preparation for tonight’s Academy Awards (which, of course, as always, I will not be watching), I enjoyed a flick last night that I had DVRed from Turner Classic Movies on 4 January. Out of curiosity, I must add, since, as I recall, the blurb referred to a pointy-headed statue and gave the film only two stars.

The film’s title was “It.” “It” was the title. The “It” in question is the British “It” from 1967, not the American “It” from a half-century later based on the Stephen King novel. I’m not going to review the film. But one of its stars, Jill Haworth, is said to have written “S-H” in front of the title when co-star Roddy McDowall gave her the poster.

(Jill insisted she acted in “It” only for the money. John Gielgud insisted he acted in “Caligula” only for the money. Cutting all the crap, isn’t the money precisely why actors act?)

Alternate titles of “It” are “Anger of the Golem” and “Curse of the Golem.” Because It is indeed the pointy-headed golem. A golem, for those not acquainted with Jewish folklore, is an anthropomorphic thing or being created from some inanimate material like clay, mud, or stone. A golem can be good or evil, male or female (but not, as far as we know, bisexual, pansexual, or transgender). The Talmud tells us that Adam was initially created as a golem when his dust was “kneaded into a shapeless husk.”

Like a Yeti or Sasquatch, a real-life golem has never been photographed. As far as I know. So movie It’s pointy-head, along with its silly face and imposing stature, is merely intended to make the big stone golem look menacing in the delightful horror film.

In the interest of perfunctory verisimilitude, It’s creation by a 16^th-century rabbi in Prague is brought out. Hebrew writing is mentioned and a stereotypical rabbi-like character translates a rubbing off the golem’s left side. But he’s not called Rabbi; and Jew and Jewish are never mentioned and the only reference to Hebrew is as a language. Lots of Jews were involved in the film’s production, of course.

Three things about the low-budget movie stand out. First, the British army officers in combat uniform—full battle dress—are nevertheless wearing ties. In all fairness, though, in the sixties, virtually all British men—from shop assistants to production-line workers to refuse collectors to miners—wore ties.

Second, when It, supposedly carved from stone, moves, the golem’s skirt of multi-layered strips, reminiscent of Roman pteruges, flexes slightly, as if they weren’t stone at all. Horrors! On the other hand, maybe the magic mezuzah It swallowed softened the petrified pteruges.

Third, the new museum curator, Mr. Weal, chastises his assistant, Pimm, by barking, “You are flaunting my orders!” Think about it. Was that in the script or did the actor flub his line? Who noticed? I cared.

All things considered, “It” was fun to watch. And I didn’t doze off . . .