Showing posts with label foreign film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foreign film. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Classic Films in Focus: THE HORRIBLE DR. HICHCOCK (1962)

I'm a sucker for early 60s Gothic horror, whether it's Corman, Hammer, or Bava, which means my opinion of a picture like Riccardo Freda's The Horrible Dr. Hichcock (1962) is inclined to be positive in spite of its shortcomings. Yes, it's about a necrophiliac surgeon who like his bedmates totally incapacitated, and the dubbing is pretty ridiculous, as well, but it has that lurid charm that Gothic horrors of the period so often possess, plus there's Barbara Steele starring as the hapless second wife who little suspects her husband's sordid appetites. Suffused with references and allusions to the work of Alfred Hitchcock, as one might guess from the title, The Horrible Dr. Hichcock provides the viewer with ample entertainment and plenty to parse in terms of its relationships to other films.

Robert Flemyng plays Professor Bernard Hichcock, a London surgeon with a secret passion for dead women. His wife, Margaret (Maria Teresa Vianello, credited as Maria Fitzgerald), accommodates his desires by allowing him to anesthetize her before sex in a boudoir made up like a funeral chamber. Unfortunately for Margaret, Hichcock overdoses her one night and then leaves the country shortly after her interment in the family vault. Twelve years later he returns to London with his new wife, Cynthia (Barbara Steele), and resumes his medical practice as well as his lust for corpses. Cynthia soon suspects that Margaret is haunting the house with sinister plans for her replacement, but when Bernard discovers the truth about Margaret he makes lethal plans of his own to restore his first wife to her former place and beauty.

As Budd Wilkins observes in his Slant review of the film's Blu-ray release, The Horrible Dr. Hichcock borrows heavily from Alfred Hitchcock's Rebecca (1940), with nods to Suspicion (1941) and Vertigo (1958), as well, but there's also a strong connection to 19th century literary works like Robert Browning's "Porphyria's Lover" and Edgar Allan Poe's "Ligeia." (For a discussion of Gothic texts and the theme of necrophilia, see my essay, "Gothic Angels: The Good, Dead Girl in Robert Browning's 'Porphyria's Lover' and Alice Cooper's 'Cold Ethyl'.") Bernard's obsession with beautiful corpses is the logical, if extreme, endpoint of the Victorian fantasy of the angel in the house. Margaret is more than happy to play this role for him, while Cynthia resists it, which puts her in danger of being made a corpse for real by the forces that seek to uphold the patriarchy's rule that women be utterly passive. While Cynthia has a bad habit of fainting every time something interesting happens, she is nonetheless determined not to succumb to the threats around her without a struggle, and the audience's sympathy lies entirely with her.

As is often the case with horror, the villain has the best role, and Robert Flemyng makes Hichcock an intriguing study in masculine selfishness, self-loathing, and irresistible sexual desire. The best scenes are the ones where Hichcock struggles against his urges but inevitably yields to them, drawn like a moth to a flame whenever a beautiful corpse lies nearby. He's the quintessential Victorian gentleman of horror, all propriety in public but pulsing with depravity in private, a Jekyll and Hyde figure whose hidden nature Cynthia doesn't suspect until it's almost too late. As the film opens we see him ruthlessly assault a grave digger in order to molest the body being buried; later, he performs surgery to repair the damage done to the very same man, with admiring proteges and a grateful family never dreaming that the same hands both harmed and healed. His duality makes him fascinating, though not particularly sympathetic, since even at his best he's a condescending, patriarchal ruler who expects everyone around him to obey his commands, whether they be student, servant, or wife. When Cynthia tries to tell him about the mysterious presence in the house he gaslights her and says that her nerves are coming undone, but once he knows it's real he just intensifies the gaslighting to keep Cynthia from realizing her peril. That alone makes him a monster, but his mad plan to restore Margaret at Cynthia's expense shows just how unbalanced he becomes by the film's fiery conclusion.

Director Riccardo Freda, who often worked under the name Robert Hampton, also made Lust of the Vampire (1957), Caltiki, The Immortal Monster (1959), and The Ghost (1963). Don't miss scream queen Barbara Steele in Black Sunday (1960) and Pit and the Pendulum (1961); she also stars - this time as a character named Margaret Hichcock! - in The Ghost, which makes it an obvious second choice for a Freda double feature. You'll find Robert Flemyng in Funny Face (1957), The Deadly Affair (1967), and The Blood Beast Terror (1968).


Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Classic Films in Focus: THE PHANTOM CARRIAGE (1921)

Its title might suggest a horror story, but The Phantom Carriage (1921) really offers a supernatural morality tale in the same spirit as Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, including the idea of the year’s end as an opportunity to confront one’s own shortcomings and sins. This silent Swedish film, important for its influence on Ingmar Bergman as well as its own merits, features a compelling if melodramatic story rendered hauntingly sublime thanks to its eerie special effects, in which dead men’s souls rise from their bodies and Death’s carriage collects its passengers on both land and sea. Directed by Victor Sjöström and adapted from the novel by Selma Lagerlöf, The Phantom Carriage is certain to thrill Bergman devotees but should also appeal to those generally interested in silent film or even the timeless theme of a lost soul’s quest for redemption.

Sjöström himself plays deeply flawed protagonist David Holm, a drunkard who repeats a New Year’s Eve story of the phantom carriage to his equally inebriated friends. The legend says that the last soul to perish as the old year ends must drive Death’s carriage for the coming year, and David inevitably finds himself in just such a position. In his ghostly form, David is forced to relive his darkest moments and witness the suffering his sins have caused, but his chance for reclamation might not be as lost as it seems.

The performances drive home the story’s moral purpose, even as they reveal the natural actions of the varied characters. Sjöström in particular gives a terrific and moving performance; the scene in which he breaks down a door with an axe resonates with emotional power, but he can also be pathetically funny, as he is when David rejects the idea of being dead and tries to crawl back into his lifeless body. As Georges, Death’s representative and current coachman, Tore Svennberg is somber but sympathetic, a Marley for David’s reluctant Scrooge. The rest of the important characters are women whose lives have been ruined by David’s thoughtless cruelty. Hilda Borgström suffers to the point of despair as David’s unhappy wife, while Astrid Holm plays Sister Edit, the virgin martyr doomed by David’s disease-ridden presence but determined to pray for his salvation with her last dying breath.

Although the story alone is enough to make The Phantom Carriage worth watching, the otherworldly effects really grab the viewer’s attention, especially in a film this early. Sjöström superimposes images to give the carriage and the souls of the dead their ghostly appearance of being part of and yet separated from the living world. We see spirits lifted from their corpses and thrown unceremoniously into the back of Death’s carriage, a sobering vision of the moment of death. No far-flung region is too remote; Death comes to the suicide sitting at home and to the mariner drowning at sea. The carriage itself, drawn by a ragged nag, is homely and unadorned, but it seems to glow with an unearthly light, and the horse’s bones almost show through its starved, transparent sides. It might not be a horror story, but there is something ineffably terrible about that spectral carriage and its occupants, something that might well haunt the viewer after the final scene has closed.

Pair The Phantom Carriage with The Seventh Seal (1957), It's a Wonderful Life (1946), or your favorite film adaptation of A Christmas Carol to continue the supernatural mood. Victor Sjöström also directed memorable Hollywood silents, including He Who Gets Slapped (1924), The Scarlet Letter (1926), and The Wind (1928). Sometimes billed in the United States as Victor Seastrom, he directed his final film, Under the Red Robe, in 1937, but continued to appear as an actor in Swedish movies like Bergman’s To Joy (1950) and Wild Strawberries (1957). For a completely different cinematic encounter with Death, try Death Takes a Holiday (1934).

The Criterion Collection edition of The Phantom Carriage is currently available for streaming on Hulu Plus.