Classic Films in Focus: THE FLESH AND THE FIENDS (1960)

The notorious Edinburgh murderers Burke and Hare supplied the insatiable cadaver market with "made to order" corpses in the early 19th century, and they've been nightmare fuel for popular culture ever since, with multiple horror films revisiting their crimes. Among these is The Flesh and the Fiends (1960), which benefits from the presence of Peter Cushing as the cadaver purchaser, Dr. Knox, and Donald Pleasence as the relentlessly amoral William Hare. Although the title is ultimately more lurid than the actual film, the continental cut of The Flesh and the Fiends justifies its X rating with plenty of topless female flesh and a couple of extended murder scenes that emphasize the victims' plight. It's not as glossy as some of the better Hammer horrors where Cushing became a genre icon, but this Triad version of a Hammer picture is worth watching if you're interested in historical horror or enjoy the particular appeal of a really devilish Donald Pleasence villain.

Cushing plays the real life receiver of the corpses, Dr. Knox, who doesn't much care how he gets the cadavers that supply his medical students with "subjects" for study. Knox's constant demand for fresh bodies keeps the local grave robbers busy, but Burke (George Rose) and Hare (Pleasence) stumble into the trade when one of Burke's lodgers dies still owing the rent, and Hare realizes that there's an easy way to turn the loss into a gain. Soon the pair are dispatching lodgers and locals at a brisk pace and lining their pockets with Knox's guineas, even as Knox's assistant, Dr. Mitchell (Dermot Walsh) begins to suspect the cadavers' origins. Meanwhile, Knox's troubled student, Chris (John Cairney), discovers a different part of Edinburgh's underbelly when he begins a romance with prostitute Mary (Billie Whitelaw), but the lovers prove to be too close to the murderers' orbit for their own good.

The performances of the main characters drive the interest here, with Rose and Pleasence like a comedy duo from hell as the opportunistic killers. They're almost cartoonish in their exaggerated appearance and mannerisms, but once they start knocking off their neighbors they become really unnerving. The attacks on Mary and Daft Jamie (both real victims of the historical killers) drive home the violence of the acts but also highlight the differences between the two murderers, with Hare feverishly unhinged and Burke brutally cruel. Both men are monsters without any humanity in them, but they're fascinating monsters nonetheless. Cushing provides some contrast to the pair as the erudite but ethically questionable doctor, with the actor as reliable as ever in his role. Still, the film pulls its punches with Knox, trying to invest him with some redeeming qualities through the devotion of his niece (June Laverick), his assistant, and his many students. Neither the situation presented in the picture nor the historical record justify Knox's escape from punishment for his part in the crimes, and the scenes of Knox's domestic life do nothing to advance the plot. Of the secondary characters, Mary is the most interesting and tragic, even though every viewer starts the picture knowing that a hard-drinking prostitute has very little life expectancy in this kind of story.

The Flesh and the Fiends would be a better picture without the niece's romantic subplot and with more emphasis on the other characters who aid or fall victim to the killers' schemes, and its artificial studio atmosphere doesn't do the sublime creepiness of period Edinburgh justice. The nudity of the continental cut was provocative for 1960 but pretty tame even by the standards of the 1970s and thus not a real concern for a modern audience. The horror of the murders and the sad fate awaiting the victims are the compelling elements of the story, although the rough justice meted out to the killers provides some satisfaction while also highlighting the extreme privilege that protects men like Knox. In short, this isn't the best Burke and Hare picture of the lot, and it's certainly not the best of Cushing's horror roles, but there's enough here to warrant a viewing for fans of the genre and its primary players. Pleasence alone is worth the time and effort required.

John Gilling, who wrote and directed The Flesh and the Fiends, also made The Gamma People (1956), Fury at Smuggler's Bay (1962), and The Mummy's Shroud (1967). If you're interested in more horror inspired by Burke and Hare, try The Body Snatcher (1945), Horror Maniacs (1948), Burke & Hare (1972), or Burke and Hare (2010). A visit to modern Edinburgh reveals the enduring appeal of the gruesome history of Burke and Hare, where you can find their crimes recreated at The Edinburgh Dungeon or see the actual skeleton of William Burke on display at the Anatomical Museum. You can also find walking tours devoted to tracing the steps of the murderers and their victims.

 

As of February 2021, The Flesh and the Fiends is available for streaming on the horror subscription service, Shudder.

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 BEAST MUST DIE (1974)

The Beast Must Die (1974) is not a good horror movie, but it's an entertaining one, assuming that its odd collection of elements appeals to a certain kind of classic horror enthusiast. This Amicus production throws together plot threads from The Most Dangerous Game (1932) and Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None (1945) as well as a gimmick straight out of a William Castle picture and performances from a couple of familiar players sure to lure in Hammer fans. Chief among the actors is Peter Cushing, playing a Van Helsing sort of lycanthrope expert, complete with accent, but The Beast Must Die also features Michael Gambon, Charles Gray, and the charismatic blaxploitation star Calvin Lockhart, here inhabiting a role very similar to the kind often played by Christopher Lee.

Lockhart opens the film as eccentric millionaire Tom Newcliffe, who brings an assortment of guests to his compound with the hope of revealing one of them to be a werewolf. Newcliffe intends to unmask and then kill the monster, but his unwilling house guests are understandably upset by his plans. Even his wife, Caroline (Marlene Clark), recoils from his obsession, but Newcliffe presses forward with his schemes, and inevitably his companions begin to die from werewolf attacks. With advice from the werewolf expert, Dr. Lundgren (Peter Cushing), Newcliffe devises tests to reveal the killer among them, but the flaws in his thinking make themselves tragically clear.

The movie is a mixed bag of the usual failings of its type and some surprisingly engaging performances from a capable cast. This is not a high-budget production, as the frequent day-for-night shots repeatedly prove, and there are plot holes big enough to drive a truck through. The clunky "werewolf break" gimmick invites the audience to guess the identity of the monster just before the big reveal near the end, but it's really no mystery to anyone who is paying attention. The werewolf, a large dog with some extra hair thrown on, is scarier for the aftermath of its attacks than the attacks themselves, and we never get a proper transformation scene; the werewolf reveals only a hairy hand before it changes into its fully canine form. None of these problems reflect on the actors' performances, which are generally quite good, and Lockhart's intensity as Newcliffe pushes the silly narrative forward in spite of itself. Gambon, Gray, and Cushing all pretend they're in a much better movie and help to give the picture its Agatha Christie atmosphere, although the weirdest of the lot is certainly Tom Chadbon as the fey, cannibalistic Paul Foote.

While it isn't by any means an essential example of the werewolf genre, The Beast Must Die does play with its conventions in some interesting ways. The werewolf might be a killer, but the real monster throughout the picture is Tom Newcliffe, whose obsession with hunting this supernatural prey surpasses any concern for the lives of others. The movie opens with Newcliffe, a black man, being chased through the forest by armed soldiers, but we then find that he's just testing his own surveillance and trapping systems for the impending werewolf hunt. Thus the picture creates and then thwarts expectations; it wants us to know that we're never on sure footing about what we're seeing or who is behind it. Newcliffe acts like his captive house guests deserve their fate for being potential monsters, but none of them is a terrible enough person to warrant such treatment; the real werewolf hasn't chosen to become a killer, and Newcliffe's persecution puts everyone else in danger of dismemberment, death, or infection from a scratch or bite. There's some poetic justice in the finale, at least as far as Newcliffe is concerned, but a lot of innocent blood gets spilled before he sees the error of his ways.

If you want to see the best of the werewolf genre, stick with Werewolf of London (1935), The Wolf Man (1941), and An American Werewolf in London (1981). Peter Cushing was a busy actor in 1974; his other films from that year include From Beyond the Grave, Madhouse, and Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires. You'll find Calvin Lockhart in Halls of Anger (1970) and Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970), while Charles Gray is probably best remembered for his role as Blofeld in Diamonds Are Forever (1971). Michael Gambon is familiar to Harry Potter fans as the second actor to play Albus Dumbledore; he has enjoyed a long and varied career, but The Beast Must Die is an unusual entry even in his diverse filmography. He is still hard at work in 2016, with three pictures in post-production at the time of this post.

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.

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.

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.