Classic Films in Focus: HANDS OF THE RIPPER (1971)

Hands of the Ripper (1971) is a gory Hammer horror foray into the much visited territory of Jack the Ripper mythology, this time focusing on the serial killer's imaginary daughter and the effects of being a witness to acts of extreme violence. While it has many of the customary elements of classic Hammer - namely bloody killings, a lush Victorian atmosphere, and buxom girls in various stages of undress - it comes up sadly short in the narrative department, mainly because its focus on Freudian psychoanalysis and compulsive behavior takes precedence over any effort to make its most important character actually interesting. The result is disappointing because Hands of the Ripper could be a much more sophisticated and engaging story than the one we get, in which a milquetoast and often catatonic girl suddenly becomes a killer every time the right stimuli occur.

Directed by Peter Sasdy, the film follows the psychologically damaged Anna (Angharad Rees) as she leaves a trail of corpses behind her. The daughter of Jack the Ripper, Anna witnessed her father murdering her mother but grew up an orphan with no memory of her past identity. Her murderous impulses are triggered when her employer, a fraudulent medium, accidentally recreates the stimuli that Anna experienced during her mother's gruesome death, but Anna is spirited away and protected by Dr. Pritchard (Eric Porter), who wants to study her using Freud's psychological methods. Soon members of Pritchard's own household are turning up dead, but the doctor cares more about his research than Anna's well-being or the lives of other people.

Visually there's a lot to like about Hands of the Ripper, from the flashing lights that mesmerize Anna to the delirious climax in the Whispering Gallery of St. Paul's Cathedral. The scenes of violence grow increasingly dreadful with each occurrence thanks to the persistent formula that stimulates them, with viewers waiting in suspense for the inevitable, innocent kiss that causes Anna to strike with the nearest sharp object. The scenes featuring prostitutes - and there's no shortage of them - are colorful and energetic in their earthiness, contrasting splendidly with the buttoned up, secret depravity of respectable gentlemen like Pritchard, Dysart, and even Jack himself.

Unfortunately, Anna remains a tabula rasa, a cipher without agency or personality, throughout the film, and outside her brief flashes of violence she does nothing at all. She's more like Conrad Veidt's sleepwalker in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) than Laird Cregar's tortured killer in Hangover Square (1945), and that's a shame because the monstrous is always more powerful when the viewer pities and understands the struggle of the person who becomes monstrous. Anna never puts up much of a fight and barely even registers that anything has happened, which leaves the viewer with Pritchard as the only character whose motivations can be pondered to any degree. Pritchard, however, is deeply unsympathetic from the moment he lets Anna murder the housemaid and then covers it up without warning his family that he's brought a dangerous, uncontrollable killer into their home. His behavior smacks of paternalism and misogyny, especially because it doesn't seem to matter to him that Anna's victims are all women... until, of course, he finds himself on the receiving end of her violent compulsion. Pritchard, Dysart, and Jack all use Anna for their own ends, making all of them far worse monsters than the girl who never has any say in her own fate, but we don't feel like justice is served or karma balanced by the ending because the original author of all this suffering, Jack himself, cannot be held accountable for his crimes.

If you're interested in more developed female monsters and killers in other classic horror films, try Dracula's Daughter (1936), Cat People (1942), or The Vampire Lovers (1970). Peter Sasdy also directed the Hammer films, Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970) and Countess Dracula (1971). Eric Porter is best remembered for his leading role in the TV miniseries, The Forsyte Saga, while Angharad Rees starred in the 1970s TV series, Poldark. For more classic movies inspired by Jack the Ripper, you might try The Lodger (there are two films with the title, from 1927 and 1944, and both are about the Ripper) or the 1979 Sherlock Holmes thriller, Murder by Decree.

Classic Films in Focus: THE BRIDES OF DRACULA (1960)

Peter Cushing returns to the role of Doctor Van Helsing for this sequel to Hammer's 1958 reinvention of the Dracula story, but, in spite of the title, Dracula never actually appears. Instead, Van Helsing combats a new undead menace and the relentless obstacle of the doctor's own terrible timing, which goes a long way to make a bad problem worse. While the absence of Christopher Lee's Count is lamentable, and Van Helsing's inability to be on time is maddening, The Brides of Dracula offers a smorgasbord of the usual Hammer delights, including buxom damsels, sublime Gothic ambience, and the perfectly serious performance of Cushing himself.

Van Helsing combats an outbreak of vampirism when the undead Baron Meinster (David Peel) escapes from bondage and turns his pretty young victims into fellow bloodsuckers. The Baron also exacts a terrible revenge on his mother, the Baroness (Martita Hunt), who had kept him a prisoner in the family castle to control his murderous appetite. Once on the loose, the Baron pursues the lovely Marianne (Yvonne Monlaur), who escapes from her first encounter with the vampire and is rescued by Van Helsing. Unfortunately, Marianne's next destination is a girls' school, where the Baron finds plenty of virginal flesh to feed his lust for blood.

The Baron is a younger, more talkative monster than Lee's Dracula, with a young man's energy to match. David Peel's fluffy blond coif and oversized fangs make him a bit silly, but he manages to wreak havoc just the same, especially because Van Helsing never manages to keep his promises to return before sundown and stake the latest vampire victim. We might forgive him for being late the first time, but by the second time he really ought to know better; both of the female vampires might have been dispatched before they ever woke up (which would have made for a much shorter movie but a less frustrating vampire hunter). It's not Cushing's fault that the script relies on his character to be incompetent in order to generate the titular brides, but I find it hard to accept that the one guy who ought to be on top of the problem doesn't seem to know what time the sun sets.

Van Helsing's chronic lateness allows the Baron to corrupt two young girls, first a villager and then one of Marianne's friends at the school. These "brides" run about in white nightgowns and flash their own extra-large fangs at Van Helsing, but they don't have much personality as vampires. Marianne is the only young woman who gets much to do, and she usually does exactly the wrong thing. She takes Van Helsing's instructions to forget what has happened to her so literally that she later becomes engaged to the Baron, not recognizing him as the monster she naively freed from his chains! More interesting, and more tragic, is the Baroness, who pays for hiding her unnatural son when he turns her into a vampire, too. Unlike the other victims, the Baroness retains her horror at her fate, and she welcomes Van Helsing's offer to set things right. Martita Hunt gives the standout performance of the picture in the role, showing the Baroness in a brief but tragic arc of complicity, guilt, contrition, and redemption.

In spite of its narrative flaws, The Brides of Dracula remains a great favorite among Hammer devotees, and many blog lists rank it as the best of the Hammer Dracula films. For the sake of comparison, watch Horror of Dracula (1958) and a couple of the later entries: Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1966), Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968), Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970), Scars of Dracula (1970), Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972), The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973), or The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974). Terence Fisher, who directed this outing, also headed up several of Hammer's other most memorable pictures, including The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula, and The Mummy (1959). Cushing and his frequent costar Christopher Lee appear together in many of these films. You'll find Yvonne Monlaur in Circus of Horrors (1960) and The Terror of the Tongs (1961); Martita Hunt, meanwhile, should not be missed as Miss Havisham in the 1946 adaptation of Great Expectations.

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.

Doctor Who at the Movies

The 50th anniversary of Doctor Who is an excellent time to look back at some of the actors who have played the adventurous Time Lord in the long-running British television series. For many actors who portray the iconic character, the role defines their careers, but you'll find them in some interesting classic movies, as well. As most fans know, the modern version of the series follows the adventures of the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Doctors (so far), but if we look back at the first four Doctors we find careers that overlap with the classic era and the films of the 1960s and 70s.

Of course, Peter Cushing was the actor who brought the Doctor to the big screen in Doctor Who and the Daleks (1965) and Daleks' Invasion Earth: 2150 A.D. (1967), but these two films are non-canonical for Whovians. Cushing was certainly a bigger star than any of the actors who had played the character up until that time, but even Cushing fans admit that these two movies aren't his best work. You're better off seeing him in Hammer pictures like Horror of Dracula (1958) or even the original Star Wars (1977), in which he makes a memorable appearance as Grand Moff Tarkin.

Here are the first four actors who played the Doctor and some of the films in which you can find them.


William Hartnell - The first Doctor has a remarkably long filmography, including a number of credits under the name "Billy Hartnell." His film career dates all the way back to 1932, but many of the British movies in which he appeared are hard to find today. Look for him in The Pickwick Papers (1952), Carry On Sergeant (1958), and The Mouse that Roared (1959), as well as the Richard Harris film, This Sporting Life (1963), for a glimpse of his work before he became the original Doctor in 1963.

Patrick Troughton - The second Doctor is remembered for his bowl-cut mop of hair and his penchant for playing the flute, but the actor who portrayed him turns up in some surprisingly impressive places. Patrick Troughton first appeared in movies in the late 1940s, and his early roles included a part as the Player King in Laurence Olivier's Hamlet (1948). You'll also find him in a bit part in Disney's 1950 adaptation of Treasure Island. Troughton makes additional appearances in The Black Knight (1954), Richard III (1955), and The Phantom of the Opera (1962), but the best and most interesting places to see him are probably in Jason and the Argonauts (1963) and The Omen (1976). Be sure to catch him in another Ray Harryhausen classic, Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977), which also stars Patrick Wayne and Jane Seymour. Although his filmography is filled with memorable work, Troughton really flourished with the rise of the small screen. He was a seasoned television pro by the time he assumed the role of the Doctor in 1966, and he continued to work in television until his death in 1987.

Jon Pertwee -  The third Doctor made fewer film and television appearances than either of his predecessors, but his first role was as early as 1938, when he had an uncredited part in A Yank at Oxford. Fans of the British Carry on films will recognize Pertwee in several of those pictures, including Carry on Cleo (1964), Carry on Cowboy (1966), and Carry on Screaming! (1966). You can also find him in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1966) and The House that Dripped Blood (1971). In addition to playing the title role on Doctor Who, Pertwee starred as Worzel Gummidge in two different television series.

Tom Baker - The fourth Doctor is probably the most recognizable of the original incarnations, thanks to his trailing scarf, wild curls, and appetite for jelly babies. By the time Tom Baker began acting in the late 1960s, television was already a huge medium, and most of his roles would be on the small screen. Baker does, however, make a few interesting film appearances. In the 1971 movie, Nicholas and Alexandra, Baker plays Rasputin! The very best movie in which to see Baker is undoubtedly The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973); he has a great villain role as the evil magician Koura. Fans of British television will also know Baker as the narrator of Little Britain, and he had a recurring role on the popular series, Monarch of the Glen.

Some fascinating tidbits reveal themselves when we look at the early Doctors and their film careers. While they were mostly television actors, they were clearly active in the British film industry, making both "serious" pictures like Shakespeare adaptations and cult films like Hammer horrors. Ray Harryhausen's fantasy adventures also proved fertile ground, with both Troughton and Baker acting in Sinbad pictures. Today most viewers only know them for their role on Doctor Who, if they remember them at all, but each of the first four Doctors had a much richer and more diverse career than his stint on that one series. These actors costarred with big names, including Laurence Olivier, Richard Harris, Peter Sellers, Buster Keaton, and Gregory Peck. As we celebrate fifty years of Doctor Who this month, let's also celebrate the actors who played him first, and take time to catch them in a few of their other memorable roles.

Ten Classic Horror Films for Halloween

Happy Halloween! It's time for spooks, ghouls, and other things that go bump in the night, which means now is the perfect time to curl up with some classic horror movies. It's the season of Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, Peter Lorre, Lon Chaney, Boris Karloff, and other iconic horror stars, all of them still delightfully creepy even in films made more than fifty years ago. Here are ten of my favorite Halloween treats; as you can tell, I like my classic horror both classy and campy, although I'm not generally a big fan of gore.

1) THE DEVIL-DOLL (1936) - Tod Browning directs Lionel Barrymore in drag! The dolls, as creepy as they are, still aren't as scary as Rafaela Ottiano, who plays the wife of the scientist who creates them.

2) THE WOLF MAN (1941) - My favorite Universal monster makes his screen debut, with Lon Chaney, Jr., Claude Rains, Bela Lugosi, and scene-stealer Maria Ouspenskaya. "Even a man who is pure of heart, and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms, and the autumn moon shines bright..."

3) CAT PEOPLE (1942) - Val Lewton's signature horror gets extra class from director Jacques Tourneur, while Simone Simon's feline anti-heroine suffers the fatal pangs of romantic disappointment. The stalking sequences are still enough to make you nervous about being alone in dark places.

4) ARSENIC AND OLD LACE (1944) - No, it's not really a horror film, but it has such a good time playing with the conventions of the genre, from Peter Lorre's Dr. Einstein to Raymond Massey's Boris Karloff lookalike. There's something inherently absurd about homicidal old ladies, but we love the Brewster sisters all the more for their deadly idea of charity work! Besides, the story takes place on Halloween, which makes it the perfect movie to watch on October 31.

5) BEDLAM (1946) - I adore Val Lewton, so he gets a second film in my list. This one stars Boris Karloff and Anna Lee and takes place largely in the notorious 18th-century London madhouse. Gothic, literate, and full of great shocks, BEDLAM is not as well-known as CAT PEOPLE but definitely deserves more attention from classic horror fans.

6) EYES WITHOUT A FACE (1960) - Georges Franju's haunting tale of murder, mutilation, and madness is one of the scariest classic horror films I have ever seen, mostly because its images and themes stay with the viewer long after the movie ends. If you're looking for serious chills for Halloween, this is the picture for you.

7) THE HAUNTING (1963) - For serious scares I love this iconic haunted house chiller, which skillfully adapts the novel by Shirley Jackson and really puts the screws to the audience as well as the characters. Julie Harris and Claire Bloom fall apart magnificently when the house cranks up the horror, and that breathing door scene is something you'll never forget.

8) THE COMEDY OF TERRORS (1963) - This black comedy brings so many of my favorite horror players into one place. We have Jacques Tourneur directing and Richard Matheson writing, with Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, Boris Karloff, and Basil Rathbone playing the leads. You'll die laughing!

9) DRACULA A.D. 1972 (1972) - Disco Dracula! This is one of the trippier Hammer horrors to star both Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing in their vampire and Van Helsing roles, but it's just so much fun, including the house party performance of "Alligator Man."

10) HOUSE OF THE LONG SHADOWS (1983) - It's silly and more like a thrill ride than a straight horror story, but I can't resist this movie's dizzying array of classic horror stars. Who can resist Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, John Carradine, and Peter Cushing all together?

What are your favorite classic horror movies for Halloween?

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)

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).

Classic Films in Focus: THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES (1974)

The basic idea of this later Hammer production from director Roy Ward Baker is patently ridiculous. The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974) might just as well have been called Kung Fu Dracula, representing as it does a mash-up of the successful Hammer formula and the Hong Kong martial arts genre as realized by the Shaw Brothers. It’s a crazy movie propelled by a crazy concept, but its nuttiness is a large part of its appeal, even if it’s a minor entry in the Hammer canon of vampire films.

Peter Cushing returns to the role of Professor Van Helsing, who has traveled to China in search of Asian vampires. With his son, Leyland (Robin Stewart), and an adventurous, wealthy widow (Julie Ege) in tow, Van Helsing sets off with a family of Chinese warriors to find a remote village plagued by deformed bloodsuckers. Dracula (John Forbes-Robertson) has already found out about this nest of vampires and has taken the form of a Chinese visitor (Shen Chan) in order to take over the undead army of the vampires and their victims. Inevitably, Van Helsing and the warriors must engage in a desperate battle with their demonic adversaries to put a stop to Dracula’s predation.

Christopher Lee is absent in the role of the bloodthirsty count, but it doesn’t really matter since Dracula spends most of the movie disguised as Kah. The plot might just as well have dispensed with Dracula entirely and focused on the unfamiliar and more promising territory of the Chinese vampires, who are markedly different in appearance and behavior from their European cousin. Van Helsing shows some interest in the cultural variations between Eastern and Western vampires, and we do see that the Buddha works just as well as the Christian cross when it comes to holy symbols. Unfortunately, we don’t learn nearly enough about the Chinese vampires. The undead attackers might be hopping vampires, but the film doesn’t bother to discuss them or their unique place in vampire mythology. It’s a shame, too, because the different vampires help to distinguish this installment from the stale retreads of the same old formula that Hammer had been using for far too long.

On the plus side, we have Cushing still playing Van Helsing with conviction and gravitas, looking very elegant in his tailored suits and adventure gear. Hammer gets to put quite a bit of female bosom on display and kill off a large cast of supporting characters in an orgy of gory excess, both elements that endear the studio to its many fans. The kung fu scenes are great fun, with David Chiang and Szu Shih both giving especially energetic performances. The movie also takes a decidedly liberal attitude toward interracial romance, and the location shooting in Hong Kong freshens up the whole atmosphere. These are sufficient attractions to keep Hammer devotees entertained throughout, especially if they’re also fond of the iconic kung fu pictures produced by the Shaw Brothers during their long and glorious career.

The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires is by no means the best of the Hammer pictures, but if you find the premise entertaining you'll enjoy the film. Roy Ward Baker also directed Moon Zero Two (1969), The Vampire Lovers (1970), and Scars of Dracula (1970). For other Van Helsing performances from Peter Cushing, see Horror of Dracula (1958), The Brides of Dracula (1960), and Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972). See kung fu classics from the Shaw Brothers like Five Fingers of Death (1972), Shaolin Temple (1976), and The 36th Chamber of Shaolin (1978) to get a better feel for the genre and its style.

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).

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.

Interview with Vincent Price expert Jonathan Lampley

The Halloween season is the perfect time to talk about classic horror icon Vincent Price, who ranks among the all-time greats alongside Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, and Christopher Lee. In order to learn more about the star of classic thrillers like House of Wax (1953), The Fly (1958), and House on Haunted Hill (1959), I turned to horror movie scholar and lifelong fan Jonathan M. Lampley, a professor in the Humanities Department at Dalton State College and the author of the 2010 McFarland book, Women in the Horror Films of Vincent Price. He's also the co-author of The Amazing, Colossal Book of Horror Trivia (Cumberland House, 1999). Here's what Jonathan has to say about one of everyone's favorite classic horror stars.

VV: When did you first become a Vincent Price fan? What are some of your earliest memories of seeing him and his films?
 
You know, I can't remember a time when I was NOT a Price fan!  Usually I can remember when and where I was when I got into something; for example, I trace my interest in horror films to 1975, when I was about 8 years old and my parents bought me a copy of Thomas G. Aylesworth's kiddie book, Movie Monsters. Aylesworth went into the literary and historical origins of the various monster myths, so it was from him that I learned Dracula and Frankenstein were novels before they were movies.  Aylesworth also discussed the great horror stars, so he introduced me to Karloff, Lugosi, Cushing, Lee, etc.  Even after the passage of almost 40 years, I still recall knowing the name "Vincent Price" even if I did not know the other names in the book.

I have often wondered why I knew Price's name by the time I was 8, but I have no recollection of seeing any of his movies at that time.  Perhaps my older brother had something to do with it, as I remember him playing Alice Cooper's album Welcome to My Nightmare, which of course features Price's monologue on "The Black Widow," which also came out in '75.  It is also possible that I knew Price almost by osmosis, as he was on so many TV shows in the early 70s, and I have vague recollections of his appearance on The Brady Bunch around that time. I know in the late 70s I saw him on TV in The Abominable Dr. Phibes, Theater of Blood, Tomb of Ligeia, Masque of the Red Death, and many others.  Certainly I was a hardcore fan by 1979, when I saw Price live on stage in Diversions and Delights, which he did in Nashville at Vanderbilt University.  In fact, many years later I learned that Price came out and did a Q and A with the audience after the performance--but my mother and I didn't know he was going to do it, so we left at the end of the show.  I missed my chance to meet Price!  Again, though, I always knew who he was and always was interested in the actor.

VV: What made you particularly interested in looking at the women in Price’s horror movies?

Well, the book is an expansion of my doctoral dissertation, which looked at the women in Price's Poe adaptations.  I wanted to do something with classic horror for my dissertation, and even before I began writing it, I knew I wanted to publish it eventually. I started out thinking about doing something with Hammer Horror movies, and when I was considering possible approaches, I thought of focusing on the role of women in Hammer films. I don't remember exactly why I switched to the Price/Poe films, but it probably had something to do with the fact that there were already books about the women of Hammer, but nothing had been done about women in the Poe films. The more I watched and thought about the Price/Poe films and the ways women are portrayed in those pictures, the more I realized this was a topic that needed to be explored in depth.  As I point out in the book, women are portrayed as victims, vixens, and objects of veneration, often at the same time, in the Poe adaptations. When I approached McFarland about publishing the dissertation, I was told it was a little too short and needed to be expanded.  That's when I decided to look at women in all of Price's horror films, not just the Poe pictures.

VV: If you could recommend just one Vincent Price movie to readers, which one would it be? What makes that one an essential example?

That's a tough question! It's so hard to pick just one, but if I had to, I would pick The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971).  It's my favorite of his horror films - in fact, after Horror of Dracula, it is my favorite horror movie, period!  I love the blend of horror and humor, and it is one of the relatively few scary movies set during the 1920s - even after 40 years, the costumes and sets are really cool. I have always been fascinated with the film's portrayal of the relationship between Dr. Phibes and his late wife, Victoria. In fact, my chapter on the Phibes films is my favorite in the book, but it was the hardest to write because I had so much to say about that relationship, and also Phibes' relationship with his lovely but mute female assistant, Vulnavia. There really do seem to be some interesting things going on in the subtext of those relationships!

Having chosen Phibes, though, I must admit that to really appreciate the film, you have to be familiar with Price's previous film work - and his public persona in general. The movie clearly borrows some of its ideas from previous Price movies, especially the Poe films. The idea of the Price character mourning his dead wife, still being fascinated with her - that had already been established as a trope in Price's career. The fact that Dr. Phibes is out for revenge is almost a homage to the revenge themes in House of Wax (1953) and many others.  And of course there are nods in the film to Price's reputation as an art critic and a gourmet chef. I know Phibes was one of the first Price movies I ever saw, and it has always been one of my favorites, but I think I only fully appreciated it after I had studied his life and works.

A part of me wants to pick another "desert island" Price movie, just as something to introduce future fans to his work, but something always makes me reject those other suggestions. Theater of Blood, for example, is a very, very close second favorite of mine - but its mixture of horror and humor is derived from Phibes, so at the end of the day I must choose Phibes first. The Poe films are obviously way up on my list, but which one is the quintessential Price movie?  My favorite of those would be The Conqueror Worm, but that wasn't even made as a Poe adaptation, really, and the others are just so evenly matched in terms of their strong and weak points that no clear winner emerges. House of Wax and The Fly are probably the most familiar VP movies - they certainly made the most money and were the ones most often cited in his obituaries - but as much as I like them, they just don't resonate in the same way Phibes does.

VV: Vincent Price has become such an icon of classic horror. Why do you think people react to Price so strongly, especially in horror roles?

I think Price became such a favorite because his horror star status came along at just the right time. His status had been slowly developing; remember that his earliest film roles included parts in such early shockers as Tower of London and The Invisible Man Returns. House of Wax was certainly a major turning point in his career in 1953, but an examination of his filmography reveals few other "scary movies" until 1958, when he did both The Fly and House on Haunted Hill.  By the time Price did House of Usher in 1960, he was firmly associated with the horror genre - a genre in which he found himself, incidentally, with few peers. Lugosi was dead by 1960, and Karloff hadn't made a major horror film in years. Karloff enjoyed a renaissance of sorts in the 60s, but I think interest in him was rekindled largely because of interest in Price. As much as I love Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, and as influential as their films were in the late 50s and early 60s, their impact was always greater in Britain than in America.

Vincent Price was a "name brand" in this country, somebody my parents knew, even though they never watched horror movies. Price was such a fixture on TV and radio, and to a certain extent in print, that he really was a media superstar even without his horror films. He had a certain degree of fame among older fans because of his pre-horror career, and the 60s horror movies and TV roles introduced him to younger fans, so it was just a case of being in the right place at the right time and finding a way to exploit the opportunities that came his way.

Some critics have claimed that Price represents a sort of rebel figure that 60s-era young people related to; even though he was well into his middle years, there was something about Price that symbolized the youth movement of the time. Frankly, I think the Price characters more often than not represent the older generation; many of his performances are as characters who represent an obsolete way of life, such as the aristocratic types trying to hold onto their non-democratic way of life in 19th century America in House of Usher and especially Dragonwyck. I think young viewers in the 60s may have related more to the young protagonists in Price's Poe films. But at the end of the day, the #1 factor in Price's rise to fame seems to be his charisma and sense of humor, which shines through in so many otherwise serious performances. I don't agree with many critics who claim the actor didn't take his roles seriously; his best roles, even when there are comic overtones, demonstrate his sense of timing (comic and otherwise) and make wonderful use of his voice. Still, there is a twinkle in his eye in pretty much everything he did, and I think people of all ages were attracted to it - and some of us still are!

VV: Tell us about some of your other favorite classic horror movies and stars.

I must confess that Vincent Price is not my favorite horror star - he's #2 on my list, following very closely on the heels of Peter Cushing. My affection for Peter Cushing is largely a matter of timing; he was in Star Wars, which I saw on its original release, and that film really cemented my love not just for fantasy, sci fi, and horror, but for film in general. Star Wars changed my life, and I think the fact that Cushing was in it made me such a hardcore fan. Of course, it also is true that I became a rabid Hammer Horror fan in the middle and late 70s, and Cushing is such an icon of those pictures. Of all the horror movie stars, I think Cushing is the one who most often gave 100% - no matter how crappy the movie might be or how small the role. Cushing's face, particularly his eyes, were so good at conveying evil and villainy, but they were also perfect for conveying goodness and heroism. I am always impressed when my film students react to him - these young folks, some of whom were born after Cushing's death, somehow seem to relate to him more than the other Horror Heroes, at least based on the few films I have time to show during a semester. And as I mentioned before, Horror of Dracula has been my favorite horror film - my favorite film, period, quite honestly - for decades.

Obviously, this means I love Christopher Lee as well! I am so glad he's still around, still making movies in his 90s! I am also glad that directors like Peter Jackson and Tim Burton are using Lee and introducing him to a new generation of fans. Lee is also getting the honors for his career that the other Horror Heroes never dreamed of - his knighthood, for instance, represents to me a sort of indirect acknowledgement of the contributions to the entertainment industry made by Cushing, Karloff, Rathbone, and many other fine British performers. The same goes for his Lifetime Achievement Award from the British Film Institute. I just hope the Academy Award will honor his work before it's too late! I met Lee briefly back in 1999, so that's a highlight of my film fan career!

I also love the work of Bela Lugosi, whom I think is a seriously underrated actor. I definitely prefer him to Karloff, even though Karloff's movies tend to be better. Frankly, as much as I love Karloff, he phoned in a lot more performances than Lugosi. I am quite proud of my familiarity with old horror movies, and even I can't tell Karloff's "mad doctor" films from the 30s and 40s apart!  Of course, when Karloff was on his game, as in the Frankenstein films or The Mummy or Targets, he's nothing short of amazing.

I am less familiar with the Chaneys, especially Lon Sr., many of whose films are now lost, but I like them as well. I suppose I should list some other favorite classic horror films to your readers, so here goes: The Flesh and the Fiends (Cushing and Donald Pleasance), The Wicker Man (the original with Lee), Island of Terror (Cushing), The Human Monster (Lugosi), Son of Frankenstein (Karloff, Lugosi, Rathbone, and Lionel Atwill), Tower of London (Karloff, Rathbone, Price), Tomb of Ligeia and The Masque of the Red Death (both with Price), The Haunted Palace (Price and Chaney Jr), and one of my very favorites, the criminally underrated cult film Scream and Scream Again (with Price, Lee, and Cushing).

VV: What other books about classic horror movies can you recommend to readers?

The trivia book I wrote with Ken Beck and Jim Clark is the closest thing to those big old picture books of my childhood, as it contains a lot more information than just trivia, but it has been out for a few years. I strongly recommend David J. Skal's books, especially Hollywood Gothic and The Monster Show, as Skal is sort of the dean of classic horror movie experts these days, and a mighty fine writer as well. There are a few other books about Vincent Price; the ones I recommend most highly are the biography his daughter Victoria wrote and Dennis Meikle's excellent study from 2003. My single favorite horror movie book of all time is David Pirie's A Heritage of Horror, which came out in 1973 and was really the first serious study of British horror movies. A great book and highly influential, even though Pirie for some reason called Phibes the worst British horror film made since 1945! Pirie revised and expanded the book in 2008, and I noticed he took the anti-Phibes comment out of the new edition! Jonathan Rigby has two great books, English Gothic and American Gothic, that I highly recommend. I also suggest scouring used bookstores and eBay for copies of those great old picture books from the 70s: anything by Dennis Gifford, Alan Frank, Everson, and Clarens is worth reading. And if you have younger fans in the house, consider finding copies of Tom Aylesworth's books. Look what they've done for me!

VV: How does an expert on classic horror movies celebrate Halloween? Any special plans this year?

Actually, I will be doing a book signing at Dalton State College, where I teach English and film, and I will also be running a horror/Halloween trivia game. It should be lots of fun!

Jonathan's books are available at online at booksellers like Amazon and Barnes & Noble.com, and you can also get Women in the Horror Films of Vincent Price on Kindle. Both books make great Halloween treats (or Christmas gifts) for serious horror fans!