At an abysmal 17 %, the Rotten Tomatoes rating of the new version of The Mummy (2017) might have you hiding in your sarcophagus instead of rushing to the theater, but, luckily for mummy lovers, Hollywood has produced plenty of better pictures in the genre. You can save your dollars for another round of Wonder Woman and still get your Egyptian undead fix with any of these twelve films, which show the long history of the movie mummy and the many different ways the character can be treated.
1) THE MUMMY (1932) - Boris Karloff shines in this original outing for the iconic monster, although he spends most of the film in more human form as Ardath Bey. The role gives him a chance to use his hypnotic voice, something he was denied as the mute creature in Frankenstein (1931), but it also helps to cement his importance as a leading player in classic horror. This dreamy contemplation on the pas de deux of love and death sets the tone for many of the mummy movies to follow, as well it should. After 85 years, it remains the greatest example of the genre and still captivates audiences as Imhotep lures his lost love back to his immortal side.
2) THE MUMMY'S HAND (1940) - It took eight years for Universal to make another mummy movie, this time without the powerful appeal of Karloff. While The Mummy's Hand isn't a great movie, it does have its charms, and it sets up a series of pictures featuring the character of Kharis. The later Kharis films star Lon Chaney, Jr. as the mummy, but in this outing Western actor Tom Tyler shuffles beneath the bandages as the undead menace. The later films, which fall further into strict matinee fare, include The Mummy's Tomb (1942), The Mummy's Ghost (1944), and The Mummy's Curse (1944).
3) THE MUMMY (1959) - In the late 1950s, Hammer rebooted the Universal monster tales with a series of gorgeous, lurid productions starring Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, and this retelling of the mummy story adds a little of the signature Hammer sex appeal to a story that already has a weird romance as its driving force. Lee shambles tragically as the mummy Kharis, while Peter Cushing plays the archeologist trying to stop an ancient Egyptian curse from depriving him of both his life and his lovely spouse.
4) BLOOD FROM THE MUMMY'S TOMB (1971) - This is a later, sexier Hammer production from the early 70s and a loose adaptation of Bram Stoker's 1903 novel, The Jewel of the Seven Stars. While it's light on actual mummies, the film is memorable for Valerie Leon's allure and a higher body count than many earlier films. Daily Dead has a good review of the film here, if you're interested in learning more, and most Hammer fans will find it worthwhile if imperfect. Some of its problems aren't really the fault of the film, since Peter Cushing bowed out early due to his wife's illness, and director Seth Holt died during filming.
5) AMAZING STORIES: "Mummy Daddy" (1985) - OK, so it's not a movie, but this mummy story has so much love for classic Universal horror that you have to see it, anyway, and it's one of the most beloved and memorable episodes of the influential television series. Tom Harrison stars as an actor in full mummy makeup who takes off from location to greet his new baby's arrival, although along the way he gets into all kinds of trouble thanks to his scary costume and the presence of an actual mummy shambling about the swamp. The plot of the episode mirrors an old story about Boris Karloff rushing to the hospital for his daughter's birth in full costume as Frankenstein's monster, but you'll find tributes to many Universal monster movies over the course of the episode.
6) TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE: THE MOVIE (1990) - Admittedly, only the first segment of this horror anthology film is about mummies, but it's memorable enough that I include it here (honestly, I remember it scaring me half to death when I saw it in the theaters as a teenager). "Lot 249" stars Christian Slater, Steve Buscemi, Julianne Moore, and Robert Sedgwick in a plot about a college student's gruesome revenge against his classmates. The segment is adapted from the 1892 short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, which helped to establish many of the conventions of the mummy horror tale, so this is a good one to track down if you're interested in the history of supernatural mummy stories.
7 and 8) THE MUMMY (1999) and THE MUMMY RETURNS (2001) - Although its history of rebooting the classic monsters has been spotty at best, Universal really knocked it out of the park with Stephen Sommers' delightful 1999 adventure, which mixed scares, laughs, and action in equal measure. Arnold Vosloo is an imposing, muscled Imhotep, accidentally brought back to life by archeologists and bent on resurrecting his long lost love. Brendan Fraser, Rachel Weisz, Oded Fehr, and John Hannah have such great chemistry as our heroic team that it's good to see them back in action for the 2001 sequel, even if the second movie doesn't quite measure up to the first. Like the Amazing Stories episode, part of the charm of this version is its love for the films that have come before, so it pays to watch the 1932 version first and then watch the 1999 one. You can probably skip the later installments of the franchise unless you're really invested in Dwayne Johnson as the Scorpion King.
9) BUBBA HO-TEP (2002) - There's nothing else out there quite like Bubba Ho-Tep, but people who have seen it love it, and I'm happy to be yet another fan urging you to put this one on your watch list. Bruce Campbell and Ossie Davis star as nursing home residents who take up their walkers and canes to fight a murderous mummy, but they're not just any old geezers, they're Elvis and JFK, still alive but rather the worse for wear. Adapted from a short story by Joe R. Lonsdale, Bubba Ho-Tep is either your kind of thing or it isn't, but it's a terrific example of horror comedy's ability to juggle its two genres' demands. It's weird and scary and absolutely hilarious, and it's one of those movies that every monster film fan really ought to see.
10, 11 and 12) NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM trilogy (2006, 2009, 2014) - This is a more kid-friendly way to watch some mummy movie adventures, but the three pictures borrow a lot from the genre's traditions in service to the plot of having museum exhibits that come alive at night. Ben Stiller leads a huge cast of well-known stars in all three pictures, and the focus is squarely on comedic adventure, but those who know their mummy movies will see the films putting familiar conventions to work in interesting ways. The ancient Egyptian pharaoh character, Ahkmenrah, figures in all three pictures and is played by Rami Malek, whom you will recognize immediately from his current TV series, Mr. Robot. The Night at the Museum movies mark one of the few times a person of actual Egyptian heritage has gotten to play an Egyptian mummy.
Showing posts with label Christopher Lee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christopher Lee. Show all posts
Monday, June 12, 2017
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Classic Films in Focus: THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES (1959)
Like other Hammer adaptations of literary classics, director Terence Fisher’s 1959 version of The Hound of the Baskervilles takes many liberties with its source material but strives to retain the essence of the original’s appeal. Making the best-known and most adapted of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries was a natural step for the studio, which boasted not one but two stars who could credibly play the iconic detective. In this outing, Peter Cushing gets the plum role, while Christopher Lee takes on the part of his client, the heir to an estate that is plagued by a deadly legacy. Purists might squirm at the picture’s many deviations from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s story, but Hammer fans will find a lot to love in the performances of its legendary stars.
In this adventure, Holmes (Peter Cushing) and Watson (Andre Morell) accept an engagement as the bodyguards of Sir Henry Baskerville (Christopher Lee), who has just inherited the Baskerville estate after the mysterious death of the previous owner. While Watson keeps an eye on Sir Henry, Holmes scours the countryside for clues about the spectral hound who supposedly brings doom to the Baskervilles. Sir Henry becomes interested in Cecile (Marla Landi), the daughter of his neighbor, Stapleton (Ewen Solon), but danger dogs the Baskerville heir at every step.
Cushing makes a very compelling Holmes, so much so that he would play the part again in a 1968 television series and a 1984 TV movie. Like Van Helsing and Victor Frankenstein, Holmes is a character perfectly suited to the fierce intelligence displayed in Cushing’s elegant carriage, expressive face, and precise speech. Christopher Lee would get his own chance to play the sleuth in Sherlock Holmes and the Deadly Necklace (1962) and two TV movies in 1991 and 1992, but since there can only be one Holmes at a time Lee has to make the most of his role as Sir Henry, which gives him the unusual opportunity to be a romantic lead in his scenes with the smoldering Marla Landi. Neither Cushing nor Lee could play the part of Watson, that exemplar of hearty British normalcy, but Andre Morell fills the role very nicely. Holmes’ cold brilliance requires Watson’s merely human counterpoint, but Morell never makes a buffoon of his Watson, which is a great relief to those bothered by less flattering depictions of the detective’s stalwart companion.
Although The Hound of the Baskervilles is not really a horror movie, Hammer milks the gruesome backstory for all the lurid material it can offer. The lengthy opening sequence delays our introduction to the main players but revels in the history of the sadistic Sir Hugo (David Oxley), whose sins supposedly bring about the curse of the monstrous hound. Kidnapping, torture, rape, and murder are the themes of the introduction, making the events that follow seem quite tame by comparison. For all its delight in shocking the viewer up front, the movie remains oddly coy about showing the hound itself, but the budget and effects available at the time produce a rather unexciting beast, so that might be for the best. The human monsters are far more interesting, and each of them gets an opportunity to be perfectly awful, with the requisite poetic justice not far behind.
Terence Fisher also directed Cushing and Lee in The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Mummy (1959). You’ll find Christopher Lee playing Sherlock’s brother, Mycroft, in The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970). Look for Andre Morell in Stage Fright (1950), The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), and Ben-Hur (1959); although not as famous as his two costars, he had quite an impressive career in both television and film. For the sake of comparison, try other classic Sherlock Holmes movies like The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939), The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1939), A Study in Terror (1965), and Murder by Decree (1979). You could really spend the rest of your life watching Holmes adaptations and pastiches; along with Count Dracula, he is one of the most frequently depicted fictional characters of all time.
In this adventure, Holmes (Peter Cushing) and Watson (Andre Morell) accept an engagement as the bodyguards of Sir Henry Baskerville (Christopher Lee), who has just inherited the Baskerville estate after the mysterious death of the previous owner. While Watson keeps an eye on Sir Henry, Holmes scours the countryside for clues about the spectral hound who supposedly brings doom to the Baskervilles. Sir Henry becomes interested in Cecile (Marla Landi), the daughter of his neighbor, Stapleton (Ewen Solon), but danger dogs the Baskerville heir at every step.
Cushing makes a very compelling Holmes, so much so that he would play the part again in a 1968 television series and a 1984 TV movie. Like Van Helsing and Victor Frankenstein, Holmes is a character perfectly suited to the fierce intelligence displayed in Cushing’s elegant carriage, expressive face, and precise speech. Christopher Lee would get his own chance to play the sleuth in Sherlock Holmes and the Deadly Necklace (1962) and two TV movies in 1991 and 1992, but since there can only be one Holmes at a time Lee has to make the most of his role as Sir Henry, which gives him the unusual opportunity to be a romantic lead in his scenes with the smoldering Marla Landi. Neither Cushing nor Lee could play the part of Watson, that exemplar of hearty British normalcy, but Andre Morell fills the role very nicely. Holmes’ cold brilliance requires Watson’s merely human counterpoint, but Morell never makes a buffoon of his Watson, which is a great relief to those bothered by less flattering depictions of the detective’s stalwart companion.
Although The Hound of the Baskervilles is not really a horror movie, Hammer milks the gruesome backstory for all the lurid material it can offer. The lengthy opening sequence delays our introduction to the main players but revels in the history of the sadistic Sir Hugo (David Oxley), whose sins supposedly bring about the curse of the monstrous hound. Kidnapping, torture, rape, and murder are the themes of the introduction, making the events that follow seem quite tame by comparison. For all its delight in shocking the viewer up front, the movie remains oddly coy about showing the hound itself, but the budget and effects available at the time produce a rather unexciting beast, so that might be for the best. The human monsters are far more interesting, and each of them gets an opportunity to be perfectly awful, with the requisite poetic justice not far behind.
Terence Fisher also directed Cushing and Lee in The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Mummy (1959). You’ll find Christopher Lee playing Sherlock’s brother, Mycroft, in The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970). Look for Andre Morell in Stage Fright (1950), The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), and Ben-Hur (1959); although not as famous as his two costars, he had quite an impressive career in both television and film. For the sake of comparison, try other classic Sherlock Holmes movies like The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939), The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1939), A Study in Terror (1965), and Murder by Decree (1979). You could really spend the rest of your life watching Holmes adaptations and pastiches; along with Count Dracula, he is one of the most frequently depicted fictional characters of all time.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Classic Films in Focus: CORRIDORS OF BLOOD (1958)
Despite its lurid title, Corridors of Blood (1958) is really a very serious picture that derives its horrors from the combined specters of Victorian surgical theater, drug addiction, and coldly calculated murder. This Dickensian medical chiller from director Robert Day stars genre heavyweights Boris Karloff and Christopher Lee, which is reason enough to see the movie for most classic horror fans, but it also offers a compelling combination of the themes that inform earlier films like The Body Snatcher (1945) and the many adaptations of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. In its merger of murderous Burke & Hare shenanigans with de casibus tragedy, Corridors of Blood creates a surprisingly thoughtful meditation on the many Faustian bargains that Victorian medical practitioners were forced to make in order to advance their scientific knowledge and our own common good.
Karloff stars as benevolent surgeon Thomas Bolton, who strives to pioneer a technique for painless surgery by experimenting with forms of anesthesia. His professional peers doubt the practicality of Bolton’s work, but the doctor devotes himself to his research and becomes his own test subject for various opiate mixtures, to which he inevitably becomes addicted. While Bolton’s son, Jonathan (Francis Matthews), and niece, Susan (Betta St. John), worry over his increasing exhaustion and drug dependence, the proprietor of a seedy tavern sees Bolton’s distress as an opportunity to get falsified death certificates for murder victims being sold as cadavers to the local hospital.
Throughout the film, Karloff’s protagonist moves back and forth between two worlds. His friends and family tell him that he belongs in the respectable circle of well-off Victorian physicians, but he feels drawn to the shadowy underworld of extreme poverty, first by his commitment to heal the sick and later by his addiction. Like Dr. Jekyll, Bolton does not remember his actions while under the influence of his drugs, but Bolton never really becomes a monster during these breaks, even though his need for more chemicals does ultimately make him a criminal. What we as viewers realize is that the two worlds are far closer to one another than they originally seem. The operating room relies on desperate poor people for its surgical demonstrations, in which screaming, bleeding patients become edifying spectacles for wealthy men of privilege. The hospital’s autopsies depend on a constant supply of fresh corpses, which arrive from the ranks of the poor with very few questions asked about their origin. Bolton’s excursions into the darker world are discouraged by his peers because they lay bare the unsavory fact that “civilized” society exists on top and at the expense of its outcasts.
That is not to suggest that the residents of the Seven Dials are angelic martyrs. The film presents them as dangerous people, a strange menagerie of rejects, sharpers, and thieves. They are part Beggar’s Opera and part Oliver Twist, a dirty but cunning lot ready to murder one another for a mere handful of coins. Francis de Wolff has the largest role among them as Black Ben, the Falstaffian barkeep, but Christopher Lee’s Resurrection Joe is certainly the scariest. Joe provides cadavers for the hospital by suffocating drunks with a pillow, although he’s equally willing to employ a knife when the occasion permits. Without the heavy makeup of Dracula or the Frankenstein monster, Lee still manages to be truly terrifying, especially in his climactic scenes with Karloff. If Karloff’s character is a Faustian type, then Ben and Joe are his devils, a thought that gives extra import to their insistence that Bolton repeatedly sign his name to further their black plans.
Be sure to note Finlay Currie and Adrienne Corri in supporting roles as the medical superintendent and Black Ben’s partner, Rachel. See more of Christopher Lee’s work from this period in The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Mummy (1959). Karloff’s other films from the late 1950s include Voodoo Island (1957), The Haunted Strangler (1958), and Frankenstein - 1970 (1958), although you should certainly catch his turn as the resurrection man in The Body Snatcher (1945) for the sake of comparison. Finlay Currie is best remembered as the truly Dickensian Magwitch in the 1946 adaptation of Great Expectations, while Adrienne Corri also appears in A Clockwork Orange (1971) and Vampire Circus (1972). For more from director Robert Day, try The Green Man (1956) and She (1965).
You'll find Corridors of Blood streaming on Hulu Plus as part of the Criterion Collection. Even on streaming, the crisp Criterion edition gorgeously displays the moody black-and-white cinematography that is a big part of this film's atmospheric appeal.
Karloff stars as benevolent surgeon Thomas Bolton, who strives to pioneer a technique for painless surgery by experimenting with forms of anesthesia. His professional peers doubt the practicality of Bolton’s work, but the doctor devotes himself to his research and becomes his own test subject for various opiate mixtures, to which he inevitably becomes addicted. While Bolton’s son, Jonathan (Francis Matthews), and niece, Susan (Betta St. John), worry over his increasing exhaustion and drug dependence, the proprietor of a seedy tavern sees Bolton’s distress as an opportunity to get falsified death certificates for murder victims being sold as cadavers to the local hospital.
Throughout the film, Karloff’s protagonist moves back and forth between two worlds. His friends and family tell him that he belongs in the respectable circle of well-off Victorian physicians, but he feels drawn to the shadowy underworld of extreme poverty, first by his commitment to heal the sick and later by his addiction. Like Dr. Jekyll, Bolton does not remember his actions while under the influence of his drugs, but Bolton never really becomes a monster during these breaks, even though his need for more chemicals does ultimately make him a criminal. What we as viewers realize is that the two worlds are far closer to one another than they originally seem. The operating room relies on desperate poor people for its surgical demonstrations, in which screaming, bleeding patients become edifying spectacles for wealthy men of privilege. The hospital’s autopsies depend on a constant supply of fresh corpses, which arrive from the ranks of the poor with very few questions asked about their origin. Bolton’s excursions into the darker world are discouraged by his peers because they lay bare the unsavory fact that “civilized” society exists on top and at the expense of its outcasts.
That is not to suggest that the residents of the Seven Dials are angelic martyrs. The film presents them as dangerous people, a strange menagerie of rejects, sharpers, and thieves. They are part Beggar’s Opera and part Oliver Twist, a dirty but cunning lot ready to murder one another for a mere handful of coins. Francis de Wolff has the largest role among them as Black Ben, the Falstaffian barkeep, but Christopher Lee’s Resurrection Joe is certainly the scariest. Joe provides cadavers for the hospital by suffocating drunks with a pillow, although he’s equally willing to employ a knife when the occasion permits. Without the heavy makeup of Dracula or the Frankenstein monster, Lee still manages to be truly terrifying, especially in his climactic scenes with Karloff. If Karloff’s character is a Faustian type, then Ben and Joe are his devils, a thought that gives extra import to their insistence that Bolton repeatedly sign his name to further their black plans.
Be sure to note Finlay Currie and Adrienne Corri in supporting roles as the medical superintendent and Black Ben’s partner, Rachel. See more of Christopher Lee’s work from this period in The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Mummy (1959). Karloff’s other films from the late 1950s include Voodoo Island (1957), The Haunted Strangler (1958), and Frankenstein - 1970 (1958), although you should certainly catch his turn as the resurrection man in The Body Snatcher (1945) for the sake of comparison. Finlay Currie is best remembered as the truly Dickensian Magwitch in the 1946 adaptation of Great Expectations, while Adrienne Corri also appears in A Clockwork Orange (1971) and Vampire Circus (1972). For more from director Robert Day, try The Green Man (1956) and She (1965).
You'll find Corridors of Blood streaming on Hulu Plus as part of the Criterion Collection. Even on streaming, the crisp Criterion edition gorgeously displays the moody black-and-white cinematography that is a big part of this film's atmospheric appeal.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Hammer Halloween Blogathon: DRACULA HAS RISEN FROM THE GRAVE (1968)
This post is part of the Hammer Halloween Blogathon hosted by the Classic Film and TV Cafe. Go to www.classicfilmtvcafe.com to view the complete blogathon schedule.
We’ve gotten pretty far afield from Bram Stoker’s original Dracula by the point at which Hammer adds Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968) to its long line of vampiric sequels, although not perhaps as far as we’ll get with Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972) and The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974). In the 1968 picture, released a decade after Horror of Dracula, Christopher Lee returns as the iconic count, although without Peter Cushing as his perpetual nemesis; this time we have priests instead of occultist academics as humanity’s defenders, played by Rupert Davies and Ewan Hooper, as well as a handsome young skeptic whose philosophical views get quite a rude check by the appearance of the bloodsucking undead. Neither the greatest nor the least of the Hammer Dracula films, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave is worth watching primarily for the ways in which it employs the studio’s favorite motifs while shifting the burden of the narrative arc to a character who is neither the monster nor his most visible opponent.
Lee’s immortal count, having been vanquished some years earlier, returns to prey upon the living when a fearful priest (Ewan Hooper) accidentally discovers him and supplies him with blood. A righteous Monsignor (Rupert Davies) has blocked Dracula’s access to his castle with prayer and a large cross, which enrages the count and inspires him to track down the high-ranking cleric in order to avenge himself. Luckily for Dracula, the Monsignor has a beautiful niece (Veronica Carlson) for the vampire to seduce, and her lover’s attempts to save her are hampered by his own disbelief in God.
In many ways, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave merely shuffles the various conventions established by the earlier films and Stoker’s original novel. We have two central female victims, one (Barbara Ewing) associated with sexual liberty and the other (Veronica Carlson) so identified with virginal innocence that she cuddles a doll in bed. Unlike Stoker’s Mina, neither has any real agency as a character, although like most Hammer heroines they do boast impressive decolletage. Monsignor Ernest stands in for Van Helsing as the believer and elder human champion, while Paul (Barry Andrews) plays the Harker role as acolyte and romantic partner of the threatened good woman. Paul’s theological doubts do add a touch of modernity to his character, but, while there might indeed be atheists in foxholes, there certainly aren’t going to be any in the lair of the damned undead, especially when crosses have such an obvious effect.
That leaves the nameless priest played by Ewan Hooper as the Renfield character, the helpless and repugnant slave to evil who commits unspeakable acts in his master’s name. Hooper’s priest, however, is really the protagonist of the film, if you pay close attention to the action. The priest’s weakness begins when he discovers one of Dracula’s victims within his own church. Because of his inability to cleanse the church, the community loses faith. Because of his fear, he fails to accompany the Monsignor to the castle and thus accidentally stumbles upon the vampire and awakens him. Too weak-willed to fight, the priest promptly succumbs to Dracula’s control, but we see in every scene that he loathes himself and hates the terrible acts that he commits. He never loves and desires the vampire, as Renfield and the many female victims do, for he recognizes evil even when he cannot resist it. Ultimately, Dracula’s destruction depends on the priest, not on the Monsignor or Paul, which makes the priest the most dynamic and psychologically complex character in the entire film. His namelessness and relatively few lines might suggest that the priest is merely a secondary character, but they also give him the air of an everyman, and Ewan Hooper actually gives a wrenching performance in the many close-ups that show his horror at being the instrument of such relentless evil. Much more than Paul or the women, the priest suffers and struggles, rendering the film’s climactic moment both triumphant and tragic, but utterly his, even if the camera cuts away at the end to focus on the more conventional couple.
Every Hammer fan knows where to find more of Christopher Lee, but newcomers to the horror canon should see him in The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Mummy (1959). Veronica Carlson also appears in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969) and The Horror of Frankenstein (1970). See more of Rupert Davies in The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1965), Witchfinder General (1968), and The Oblong Box (1969). Ewan Hooper is a Shakespearean stage actor who turns up in films like How I Won the War (1967) and Kinky Boots (2005), but he has done quite a bit of British television, as well. Director Freddie Francis worked as a very successful cinematographer and also directed quite a few horror films; he won Oscars for his cinematography on Sons and Lovers (1960) and Glory (1989), but he also directed Trog (1970) and Tales from the Crypt (1972).
More Hammer horror reviews on Virtual Virago:
THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957)
THE MUMMY (1959)
THE SATANIC RITES OF DRACULA (1973)
THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES (1974)
We’ve gotten pretty far afield from Bram Stoker’s original Dracula by the point at which Hammer adds Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968) to its long line of vampiric sequels, although not perhaps as far as we’ll get with Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972) and The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974). In the 1968 picture, released a decade after Horror of Dracula, Christopher Lee returns as the iconic count, although without Peter Cushing as his perpetual nemesis; this time we have priests instead of occultist academics as humanity’s defenders, played by Rupert Davies and Ewan Hooper, as well as a handsome young skeptic whose philosophical views get quite a rude check by the appearance of the bloodsucking undead. Neither the greatest nor the least of the Hammer Dracula films, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave is worth watching primarily for the ways in which it employs the studio’s favorite motifs while shifting the burden of the narrative arc to a character who is neither the monster nor his most visible opponent.
Lee’s immortal count, having been vanquished some years earlier, returns to prey upon the living when a fearful priest (Ewan Hooper) accidentally discovers him and supplies him with blood. A righteous Monsignor (Rupert Davies) has blocked Dracula’s access to his castle with prayer and a large cross, which enrages the count and inspires him to track down the high-ranking cleric in order to avenge himself. Luckily for Dracula, the Monsignor has a beautiful niece (Veronica Carlson) for the vampire to seduce, and her lover’s attempts to save her are hampered by his own disbelief in God.
In many ways, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave merely shuffles the various conventions established by the earlier films and Stoker’s original novel. We have two central female victims, one (Barbara Ewing) associated with sexual liberty and the other (Veronica Carlson) so identified with virginal innocence that she cuddles a doll in bed. Unlike Stoker’s Mina, neither has any real agency as a character, although like most Hammer heroines they do boast impressive decolletage. Monsignor Ernest stands in for Van Helsing as the believer and elder human champion, while Paul (Barry Andrews) plays the Harker role as acolyte and romantic partner of the threatened good woman. Paul’s theological doubts do add a touch of modernity to his character, but, while there might indeed be atheists in foxholes, there certainly aren’t going to be any in the lair of the damned undead, especially when crosses have such an obvious effect.
That leaves the nameless priest played by Ewan Hooper as the Renfield character, the helpless and repugnant slave to evil who commits unspeakable acts in his master’s name. Hooper’s priest, however, is really the protagonist of the film, if you pay close attention to the action. The priest’s weakness begins when he discovers one of Dracula’s victims within his own church. Because of his inability to cleanse the church, the community loses faith. Because of his fear, he fails to accompany the Monsignor to the castle and thus accidentally stumbles upon the vampire and awakens him. Too weak-willed to fight, the priest promptly succumbs to Dracula’s control, but we see in every scene that he loathes himself and hates the terrible acts that he commits. He never loves and desires the vampire, as Renfield and the many female victims do, for he recognizes evil even when he cannot resist it. Ultimately, Dracula’s destruction depends on the priest, not on the Monsignor or Paul, which makes the priest the most dynamic and psychologically complex character in the entire film. His namelessness and relatively few lines might suggest that the priest is merely a secondary character, but they also give him the air of an everyman, and Ewan Hooper actually gives a wrenching performance in the many close-ups that show his horror at being the instrument of such relentless evil. Much more than Paul or the women, the priest suffers and struggles, rendering the film’s climactic moment both triumphant and tragic, but utterly his, even if the camera cuts away at the end to focus on the more conventional couple.
Every Hammer fan knows where to find more of Christopher Lee, but newcomers to the horror canon should see him in The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Mummy (1959). Veronica Carlson also appears in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969) and The Horror of Frankenstein (1970). See more of Rupert Davies in The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1965), Witchfinder General (1968), and The Oblong Box (1969). Ewan Hooper is a Shakespearean stage actor who turns up in films like How I Won the War (1967) and Kinky Boots (2005), but he has done quite a bit of British television, as well. Director Freddie Francis worked as a very successful cinematographer and also directed quite a few horror films; he won Oscars for his cinematography on Sons and Lovers (1960) and Glory (1989), but he also directed Trog (1970) and Tales from the Crypt (1972).
More Hammer horror reviews on Virtual Virago:
THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957)
THE MUMMY (1959)
THE SATANIC RITES OF DRACULA (1973)
THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES (1974)
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Classic Films in Focus: THE MUMMY (1959)
Having already made The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) and Horror of Dracula (1958), Hammer Films next turned its attention to reinventing the story of a different horror icon, the stiff-armed Egyptian creature known as The Mummy (1959). This adaptation, like the best of the Hammer horrors, stars Peter Cushing as the human protagonist and Christopher Lee as the monster, and it also benefits from the effective direction of Terence Fisher. Lavish, classy, and inventive in its take on the oft-told tale, The Mummy adds a hint of signature Hammer sex appeal to its story of undying love between an Ancient Egyptian princess and her devoted high priest.
Peter Cushing stars as British archaeologist John Banning, who discovers the tomb of the Princess Ananka along with his father (Felix Aylmer). As soon as they open the sacred grave, however, the Bannings begin to suffer ill fortune, beginning with John’s father, who goes mad after an encounter with Kharis (Christopher Lee), the living mummy who guards the tomb. Several years later, in England, Kharis and his keeper, Mehemet Bey (George Pastell), exact their revenge on the men who desecrated Ananka’s resting place, but the mummy is also attracted to Banning’s wife, Isobel (Yvonne Furneaux), who happens to look exactly like his long lost love.
The Egyptian story offers another rich opportunity for the combined talents of Cushing and Lee, with characters who follow the same general outlines as their earlier roles but still evoke unique interpretations from each performer. Cushing gets almost all of the dialogue as the intellectual but mild-mannered Banning, whose physical fragility is emphasized by a twisted leg. He’s a gentle family man, devoted to his father and his wife, and his inability to enter the tomb at the beginning of the film underlines our sense of him as one who has not deserved the grisly fate pronounced by the ancient gods. Lee, who speaks only briefly in a flashback scene, brings his tremendous bodily presence into play as the imposing mummy, but his eyes are even more effective. With them he conveys Kharis’ determination, his suffering, and his immortal devotion to Ananka. The impressive makeup adds to Lee’s overall impact on the viewer; he looks ancient and terrible without seeming too much like a guy wrapped up in bulky bandages, and the detail of his sealed mouth gives him an especially tragic air. Watch Kharis when he first sees Isobel and recognizes in her the image of his beloved princess; no other mummy has ever looked more physically dead and yet emotionally alive, the victim of a wounded heart that might have ceased beating but is still quite capable of breaking.
George Pastell, a Greek, gives a subtle performance as the modern day disciple of the ancient Egyptian god. He’s exotic without being cartoonish, and he makes a formidable opponent as the director of the mummy’s actions. Yvonne Furneaux, as both Isobel and Ananka, doesn’t have that much to do, but she looks terrific, and it’s easy to see why both Banning and the mummy fall in love with her, especially when she lets her hair down. We do get a few tantalizing glimpses of her naked flesh in the flashback scenes, although they’re pretty tame by Hammer standards. The rest of the supporting players are solid, as well, although there might be a touch too much emphasis on the boozy locals who react to the mummy’s appearances about the countryside.
For more Hammer classics from Cushing, Lee, and director Terence Fisher, see The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959). You’ll also find Cushing and Lee teaming up in other horror films, including I, Monster (1971), Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972), and The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973); don’t miss their final collaboration in the wry horror-comedy, House of the Long Shadows (1983). Yvonne Furneaux also appears in La Dolce Vita (1960), The Lion of Thebes (1964), and Repulsion (1965). If mummy stories tickle your fancy, try The Mummy (1932), The Mummy’s Hand (1940), and The Mummy’s Tomb (1942) for more classics, or see more recent incarnations in Tales from the Darkside: The Movie (1990), The Mummy (1999), and the cult horror-comedy, Bubba Ho-Tep (2002).
Peter Cushing stars as British archaeologist John Banning, who discovers the tomb of the Princess Ananka along with his father (Felix Aylmer). As soon as they open the sacred grave, however, the Bannings begin to suffer ill fortune, beginning with John’s father, who goes mad after an encounter with Kharis (Christopher Lee), the living mummy who guards the tomb. Several years later, in England, Kharis and his keeper, Mehemet Bey (George Pastell), exact their revenge on the men who desecrated Ananka’s resting place, but the mummy is also attracted to Banning’s wife, Isobel (Yvonne Furneaux), who happens to look exactly like his long lost love.
The Egyptian story offers another rich opportunity for the combined talents of Cushing and Lee, with characters who follow the same general outlines as their earlier roles but still evoke unique interpretations from each performer. Cushing gets almost all of the dialogue as the intellectual but mild-mannered Banning, whose physical fragility is emphasized by a twisted leg. He’s a gentle family man, devoted to his father and his wife, and his inability to enter the tomb at the beginning of the film underlines our sense of him as one who has not deserved the grisly fate pronounced by the ancient gods. Lee, who speaks only briefly in a flashback scene, brings his tremendous bodily presence into play as the imposing mummy, but his eyes are even more effective. With them he conveys Kharis’ determination, his suffering, and his immortal devotion to Ananka. The impressive makeup adds to Lee’s overall impact on the viewer; he looks ancient and terrible without seeming too much like a guy wrapped up in bulky bandages, and the detail of his sealed mouth gives him an especially tragic air. Watch Kharis when he first sees Isobel and recognizes in her the image of his beloved princess; no other mummy has ever looked more physically dead and yet emotionally alive, the victim of a wounded heart that might have ceased beating but is still quite capable of breaking.
George Pastell, a Greek, gives a subtle performance as the modern day disciple of the ancient Egyptian god. He’s exotic without being cartoonish, and he makes a formidable opponent as the director of the mummy’s actions. Yvonne Furneaux, as both Isobel and Ananka, doesn’t have that much to do, but she looks terrific, and it’s easy to see why both Banning and the mummy fall in love with her, especially when she lets her hair down. We do get a few tantalizing glimpses of her naked flesh in the flashback scenes, although they’re pretty tame by Hammer standards. The rest of the supporting players are solid, as well, although there might be a touch too much emphasis on the boozy locals who react to the mummy’s appearances about the countryside.
For more Hammer classics from Cushing, Lee, and director Terence Fisher, see The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959). You’ll also find Cushing and Lee teaming up in other horror films, including I, Monster (1971), Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972), and The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973); don’t miss their final collaboration in the wry horror-comedy, House of the Long Shadows (1983). Yvonne Furneaux also appears in La Dolce Vita (1960), The Lion of Thebes (1964), and Repulsion (1965). If mummy stories tickle your fancy, try The Mummy (1932), The Mummy’s Hand (1940), and The Mummy’s Tomb (1942) for more classics, or see more recent incarnations in Tales from the Darkside: The Movie (1990), The Mummy (1999), and the cult horror-comedy, Bubba Ho-Tep (2002).
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Classic Films in Focus: THE SATANIC RITES OF DRACULA (1973)
Following Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972), The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973) brought Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing together for one more modern day conflict as the undead count and his perpetual nemesis. Hammer Studios also relied again on the directorial services of Alan Gibson, with Joanna Lumley replacing Stephanie Beacham as Van Helsing’s vampire bait granddaughter, Jessica. This would be the last pairing of the two iconic horror actors in a Hammer film, and it’s a shame they couldn’t go out from their signature roles with more aplomb, since The Satanic Rites of Dracula recycles one too many elements from previous installments and suffers from some serious third act fatigue.
Cushing plays Lorrimer Van Helsing, the latest in a long line of vampire hunters to oppose the immortal Dracula (Lee). Not long after their previous encounter, which supposedly disposed of the count, Van Helsing discovers that the vampire is back and up to new mischief with a small band of powerful men as his servants. Assisted by Inspector Murray (Michael Coles) and Agent Torrence (William Franklyn), Van Helsing penetrates the lair of Dracula’s blood cult to stop him from unleashing a deadly plague that will destroy all life on Earth. Dracula, however, has many lackeys and thralls at his command, and his plot also includes revenge against Van Helsing by making his granddaughter (Joanna Lumley) an undead bride.
Problems with the picture are not the fault of Cushing and Lee, who always bring a certain gravitas to their characters even in the most ludicrous situations. Lee actually talks more this time out, endowing his “D.D. Denham” cover persona with modern sophistication and a Lugosi-tinged Eastern European accent. Cushing looks much too frail to endure the hazards of combating such a coterie of opponents, but his face is still filled with intelligence and determination, and we believe in him the way that he believes in his silver crosses. The supporting players are generally solid, too, with Lumley and Coles leading the set and bringing a hint of romance to the tale.
The narrative, however, tries too hard to bring in modern elements and genres. It begins as a spy thriller, segues into pornographic occult horror, and then adds an unnecessary twist of science fiction with a super plague that will annihilate the world’s population. Dracula, who doesn’t even appear in much of the movie, ultimately comes off more as a Bond style megalomaniac than a lord of the undead. There’s actually a lot of Bond floating around, from sniper assassinations and staged suicides to hidden cameras and top secret cover-ups. Hammer must have hoped that these additions to their traditional formula would make the film more hip, but they merely detract from the archetypal conflict of good and evil that the essential story tells. It borrows its "secret pact of powerful men" plot from the earlier Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970), and like that picture it collapses at the end, with the inevitable defeat of the count something of a letdown and the resolution of the romantic angle left hanging.
Serious Hammer fans will want to see The Satanic Rites of Dracula for Cushing and Lee’s final bows as their famous alter egos, but newcomers to the Hammer canon should start with better examples like The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972). Catch House of the Long Shadows (1983) for Cushing and Lee’s final screen collaboration. Joanna Lumley, best known today for her role on the British television series, Absolutely Fabulous, also made early career appearances in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1968), The Devil’s Widow (1970), and Lady Chatterly Versus Fanny Hill (1971).
Cushing plays Lorrimer Van Helsing, the latest in a long line of vampire hunters to oppose the immortal Dracula (Lee). Not long after their previous encounter, which supposedly disposed of the count, Van Helsing discovers that the vampire is back and up to new mischief with a small band of powerful men as his servants. Assisted by Inspector Murray (Michael Coles) and Agent Torrence (William Franklyn), Van Helsing penetrates the lair of Dracula’s blood cult to stop him from unleashing a deadly plague that will destroy all life on Earth. Dracula, however, has many lackeys and thralls at his command, and his plot also includes revenge against Van Helsing by making his granddaughter (Joanna Lumley) an undead bride.
Problems with the picture are not the fault of Cushing and Lee, who always bring a certain gravitas to their characters even in the most ludicrous situations. Lee actually talks more this time out, endowing his “D.D. Denham” cover persona with modern sophistication and a Lugosi-tinged Eastern European accent. Cushing looks much too frail to endure the hazards of combating such a coterie of opponents, but his face is still filled with intelligence and determination, and we believe in him the way that he believes in his silver crosses. The supporting players are generally solid, too, with Lumley and Coles leading the set and bringing a hint of romance to the tale.
The narrative, however, tries too hard to bring in modern elements and genres. It begins as a spy thriller, segues into pornographic occult horror, and then adds an unnecessary twist of science fiction with a super plague that will annihilate the world’s population. Dracula, who doesn’t even appear in much of the movie, ultimately comes off more as a Bond style megalomaniac than a lord of the undead. There’s actually a lot of Bond floating around, from sniper assassinations and staged suicides to hidden cameras and top secret cover-ups. Hammer must have hoped that these additions to their traditional formula would make the film more hip, but they merely detract from the archetypal conflict of good and evil that the essential story tells. It borrows its "secret pact of powerful men" plot from the earlier Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970), and like that picture it collapses at the end, with the inevitable defeat of the count something of a letdown and the resolution of the romantic angle left hanging.
Serious Hammer fans will want to see The Satanic Rites of Dracula for Cushing and Lee’s final bows as their famous alter egos, but newcomers to the Hammer canon should start with better examples like The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972). Catch House of the Long Shadows (1983) for Cushing and Lee’s final screen collaboration. Joanna Lumley, best known today for her role on the British television series, Absolutely Fabulous, also made early career appearances in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1968), The Devil’s Widow (1970), and Lady Chatterly Versus Fanny Hill (1971).
Friday, October 26, 2012
Classic Films in Focus: THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957)
Although Mary Shelley's novel has been filmed many times, every adaptation of Frankenstein is unique, a point that The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) helps to prove. Director Terence Fisher's version of the Frankenstein story offers a different take than the iconic 1931 picture from James Whale; it brings in more Gothic atmosphere and revels in an early opportunity for full color gore. With Hammer stars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee in the roles of the scientist and his monster, The Curse of Frankenstein has great appeal for fans of classic horror, and its deviations from the source material offer some fascinating commentary on the cultural evolution of Shelley's modern Prometheus.
Cushing plays Baron Victor Frankenstein, who comes into his title and his wealth at an early age and uses the opportunity to hire himself a tutor with expert qualifications in science. His chosen mentor is Paul Krempe (Robert Urquhart), who teaches the younger man everything he knows but eventually grows uncomfortable with the direction of Victor's research. Consumed by his desire to create life, Victor ignores his intended bride, Elizabeth (Hazel Court), although he does find time to carry on a callous affair with the resident maid, Justine (Valerie Gaunt). Eventually, Victor's efforts bring the Monster (Christopher Lee) into being, but the master cannot control his creation, despite numerous operations to alter the creature's brain.
Peter Cushing makes an excellent Frankenstein; he perfectly conveys the sneering narcissism of the aristocracy and looks both incredibly intelligent and insufferably aware of it. The character of Paul is created as a foil to Victor, and Robert Urquhart has an open, sincere expression that marks him as Victor's opposite; both men are technically scientists, but Paul imagines science as a way to help humanity, while Victor sees it as a path to godlike power. The two women also function as foils to one another; Hazel Court's Elizabeth is utterly innocent, unable to imagine that Victor might be capable of wrong, while Valerie Gaunt's Justine is a jealous schemer who attempts to blackmail Victor into marrying her. Both women mistake the character of their man, but Justine pays the steeper price for the error. There's a terrible irony in Victor's decision to let the monster destroy Justine after she reveals that she is pregnant with his child; he is choosing one kind of offspring over another, an act that symbolizes his rejection of the entire natural world. This is not the death that Justine suffered in Shelley's novel, but it fits with the film's interpretation of Victor's character and drives home the point that Shelley makes about the protagonist as a figure of paternal failure.
When he finally appears, Christopher Lee's creature reveals an appearance more zombie than golem, with a green, decayed face and one pale, clouded eye, but like Karloff's character he lacks the powers of thought and speech. An early scene in which Victor describes the beautiful hands he has stolen for his creature helps to explain why Lee's own elegant, tapered fingers extend from his sleeves while his heavily made-up face presents such a mockery of human expression. He's certainly harder to look at than Karloff, but he's also more fragile and pathetic, especially after Victor resurrects him for a second time and begins carving up his already damaged brain. The lion's share of the story belongs to Cushing's amoral, ambitious Victor, but Lee does his best with his limited role, although it would have been interesting for Hammer to hew more closely to Shelley's novel and let Lee's tremendously eloquent intelligence inhabit that patchwork frame. A year later, Horror of Dracula (1958) would offer the pair more evenly matched opponents with Cushing as Van Helsing and Lee as the bloodthirsty count.
For more of classic Cushing and Lee, go on to Horror of Dracula and then to The Mummy (1959). Both enjoyed long careers with particularly good roles late in life; look for Cushing as Grand Moff Tarkin in Star Wars (1977) and Lee as Saruman in The Lord of the Rings trilogy and as Count Dooku in the Star Wars prequels. You'll find Robert Urquhart as Gawaine in Knights of the Round Table (1953), but he had better success with television than he did in films. Scream queen Hazel Court appears in The Raven (1962) and several other Roger Corman horror films. Hammer fans might appreciate the Turner Classic Movies DVD set that includes The Curse of Frankenstein as well as Horror of Dracula, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, and Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed.
An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.
Cushing plays Baron Victor Frankenstein, who comes into his title and his wealth at an early age and uses the opportunity to hire himself a tutor with expert qualifications in science. His chosen mentor is Paul Krempe (Robert Urquhart), who teaches the younger man everything he knows but eventually grows uncomfortable with the direction of Victor's research. Consumed by his desire to create life, Victor ignores his intended bride, Elizabeth (Hazel Court), although he does find time to carry on a callous affair with the resident maid, Justine (Valerie Gaunt). Eventually, Victor's efforts bring the Monster (Christopher Lee) into being, but the master cannot control his creation, despite numerous operations to alter the creature's brain.
Peter Cushing makes an excellent Frankenstein; he perfectly conveys the sneering narcissism of the aristocracy and looks both incredibly intelligent and insufferably aware of it. The character of Paul is created as a foil to Victor, and Robert Urquhart has an open, sincere expression that marks him as Victor's opposite; both men are technically scientists, but Paul imagines science as a way to help humanity, while Victor sees it as a path to godlike power. The two women also function as foils to one another; Hazel Court's Elizabeth is utterly innocent, unable to imagine that Victor might be capable of wrong, while Valerie Gaunt's Justine is a jealous schemer who attempts to blackmail Victor into marrying her. Both women mistake the character of their man, but Justine pays the steeper price for the error. There's a terrible irony in Victor's decision to let the monster destroy Justine after she reveals that she is pregnant with his child; he is choosing one kind of offspring over another, an act that symbolizes his rejection of the entire natural world. This is not the death that Justine suffered in Shelley's novel, but it fits with the film's interpretation of Victor's character and drives home the point that Shelley makes about the protagonist as a figure of paternal failure.
When he finally appears, Christopher Lee's creature reveals an appearance more zombie than golem, with a green, decayed face and one pale, clouded eye, but like Karloff's character he lacks the powers of thought and speech. An early scene in which Victor describes the beautiful hands he has stolen for his creature helps to explain why Lee's own elegant, tapered fingers extend from his sleeves while his heavily made-up face presents such a mockery of human expression. He's certainly harder to look at than Karloff, but he's also more fragile and pathetic, especially after Victor resurrects him for a second time and begins carving up his already damaged brain. The lion's share of the story belongs to Cushing's amoral, ambitious Victor, but Lee does his best with his limited role, although it would have been interesting for Hammer to hew more closely to Shelley's novel and let Lee's tremendously eloquent intelligence inhabit that patchwork frame. A year later, Horror of Dracula (1958) would offer the pair more evenly matched opponents with Cushing as Van Helsing and Lee as the bloodthirsty count.
For more of classic Cushing and Lee, go on to Horror of Dracula and then to The Mummy (1959). Both enjoyed long careers with particularly good roles late in life; look for Cushing as Grand Moff Tarkin in Star Wars (1977) and Lee as Saruman in The Lord of the Rings trilogy and as Count Dooku in the Star Wars prequels. You'll find Robert Urquhart as Gawaine in Knights of the Round Table (1953), but he had better success with television than he did in films. Scream queen Hazel Court appears in The Raven (1962) and several other Roger Corman horror films. Hammer fans might appreciate the Turner Classic Movies DVD set that includes The Curse of Frankenstein as well as Horror of Dracula, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, and Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed.
An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Classic Films in Focus: HOUSE OF THE LONG SHADOWS (1983)
Directed by Pete Walker, House of the Long Shadows (1983) belongs firmly to the classic
horror genre of the old dark house movie, with special emphasis on the dark. The
1983 incarnation represents only one of many film treatments of Earl Derr
Biggers’ novel, Seven Keys to Baldpate,
which was first adapted for performance as a stage play by none other than
George M. Cohan. Despite its interesting pedigree, the movie’s cast is probably
the real attraction for genre fans. Four great horror icons – John Carradine,
Vincent Price, Peter Cushing, and Christopher Lee – unite for this entertaining
horror comedy, making it a must-see for serious devotees. It’s not a perfect movie, but the
performances of these stars more than make up for its faults, even the baffling
presence of Desi Arnaz, Jr., as its uninspiring protagonist.
Arnaz plays writer Kenneth Magee, who makes a bet
with his publisher, Sam (Richard Todd), that he can write a Wuthering Heights sort of novel in 24
hours if given the proper atmosphere. The Gothic ambience is duly supplied by a
supposedly abandoned mansion in Wales, where a violent storm becomes the least
of Kenneth’s distractions as a series of unexpected companions arrives. The
ancestral residents of the house, the Grisbanes, are returning to perform a
final act relating to a tragedy that took place some 40 years ago. Their
secrets slowly unfold as the corpses pile up over the course of the night, and
even accidental visitors to the home are not safe from the murderous presence
that stalks the darkened halls. Kenneth might not survive until morning, much
less finish his novel in time to win the bet.
It’s often too dark to see anything as the
characters bump about the house, and one has to wonder why nobody seems to have
thought to pack a flashlight. Desi Arnaz looks out of place in such a film, and
his character falls flat in comparison with the house’s more colorful guests.
Kenneth is neither likable nor really unlikable; he’s just a dull American with
an inflated ego and a habit of offending other people’s sensibilities. We have
to wonder what Mary (Julie Peasgood), the frightened English love interest, sees
in this guy, aside from his being the least creepy thing inhabiting the house.
The horror depends mostly on suspense as the
characters wander through the shadowy house, although the acid burning scene
makes the PG rating questionable. The comedic side remains muted until the
final series of twists, but viewers who know their horror icons will laugh at
Peter Cushing’s lisping, timid Sebastian Grisbane and the marvelous spectacle
of Christopher Lee going after Vincent Price with a battle axe. Cushing, Lee,
Price, and Carradine are the real stars of the film, and the action really picks
up once they have all arrived. Sheila Keith, a veteran of several other Pete
Walker horror pictures, completes the family group as the only daughter, Victoria
Grisbane.
You’ll have to watch the movie for yourself to
decide if the twist endings work, but there’s a final, quick exchange between
Price and Lee that really cracked me up. House
of the Long Shadows is devilishly hard to track down on VHS or DVD, but you
can, as of October 2012, watch it on Amazon Instant Video, and it’s even free
for Prime members. For more horror reunions, try The Comedy of Terrors (1963), Scream
and Scream Again (1970), and Madhouse
(1974), or check out the stars’ earlier appearances in cult classics from Roger
Corman and Hammer Films. Find out more about the 1917, 1925, 1929, 1935, and
1947 film versions of Seven Keys to
Baldpate to get a better sense of the story’s long cinematic history.
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