by
Kristin Battestella
Let's
travel across the pond and back a decade or two for these British
crimes, English folktales, night terrors, and cult fears. Pip pip!
Bluebeard
– Aerial accolades, colorful balls, and a lavish mansion aren't
enough for Welsh titan Richard Burton as he creatively works his way
through Sybil Danning (Chained
Heat), Raquel Welch (One
Million Years B.C.), and
more dames in this 1972 retelling. Dark room red lighting, old time
photography, ink blot artwork, and portraits of the dead add a
sinister sense of sophistication as wartime flashbacks and flight
disasters explain the flashy facial hair. Unfortunately, tense
hunting accidents are too realistic in their animal killings, putting
a damper on the well shot action alongside a confusing setting with
Nazis talking Aryan beauty, World War I inserts, and a mod mood that
feels too sixties. Saucy lace and classy nude women keep every frame
pretty, however the famous ladies are dubbed, barely named or
developed, and naturally come and go quickly save for singer Joey
Heatherton in the first hour. A photograph of each Mrs. with her name
and date would have helped heaps in documenting the fatalities rather
than haphazard trips down memory lane dragging the middle and
stalling the forward discovery. The uneven, meandering focus between
the psychosis and a current escape undercuts the audience's emotional
attachment – no guillotine pun intended. Burton is having a great
time, but we never really get inside the killer's mind thanks to a
superficial, lighthearted tone glossing over the potential sexual
impetus or mother/son suggestions. Impotence jokes interfere with the
women hatred and warped lust deserves death theories, and the
prostitute girl-on-girl practicing isn't as tantalizing as it should
be – just inadvertently humorous like the score. Dusty suits of
armor, wine vats, mysterious keys, secret cameras, and electric
chairs do much better in hitting home the peril amid cobwebbed
passages, secret spiral stairs, and gruesome taxidermy everywhere.
Perhaps the thin points of the original tale are at fault, but this
account relies more on the viewer knowing fun deaths are afoot and
enjoying the merry-go-round instead of embellishing the story all the
way. Despite lacking polish and being a bit too tame, there are
fortunately some delightful performances to be had here –
especially Welch as a hot nun who seriously got around before the
habit.
Fear in the Night – Writer
and director Jimmy Sangster (Lust
for a Vampire) opens this
1972 Hammer creepy with playgrounds, children singing hymns, and
sweet Tudor mansion turned school locales. Judy Geeson's (Mad
About You) 22-year-old
Peggy should find such quaint idyllic well and jolly good when she
moves to the school's cute cottage with her new husband Ralph Bates
(Dr. Jekyll and Sister
Hyde). Unfortunately,
bathroom break ins, masked attacks, prosthetic arms, and others
claiming the intruder wasn't there add mentally unstable doubts
alongside prior hospital stays and chats with an unseen therapist.
This out of term school is empty – covered furniture, set tables
with no one there, little beds waiting – not to mention the creepy
sculptures and isolated uncertainty. The viewer is invested in the
characters thanks to such underlying suspicious, Latin classroom
whispers, and charming but surely up to no good headmaster Peter
Cushing. His innocent gentlemanly teacher facade quickly becomes old
school imposing with “Do an old man a favor” innuendo when Peggy
sits in a child size desk while he compliments her. The audience sees
clues she doesn't, but we are also cut away from other attack
details, adding to the non-believer questioning. Likewise, pre-Alexis
Joan Collins is simply too stern, self-assured, and beautiful to be
the little old headmaster's wife. Rabbit hunting, loaded guns, home
alone at night fears, and scary noises about the house just don't add
up, and although slightly sloppy, the intercut sessions with the
therapist askew the timeline, creating more unreliability on what has
happened. Interspersed awkward meetings and slow burn tensions are
somewhat uneven as well, lowering scenes into a lull before false
happiness and then topping the act off with a scare, however the
rural setting allows for both large scale frights and smaller,
intimate interior terrors. Individual sequences are well shot with
tense shadows, staircases, echoes, and odd behaviors accenting the
unexplained action, trauma, and twists. Shrewd viewers will peg some
of the gaslighting obviousness and psychological games at work and
there is a certain dull lack of Hammer panache at times, but the cast
and final pursuits give this one an entertaining finish.
The Lair of the White Worm
– Sleek Amanda Donahue (L.A.
Law), posh prick Hugh Grant
(Bridget Jones' Diary),
the obviously dubbed princess Catherine Oxenberg (Dynasty),
and scientist Peter Capaldi (Doctor
Who) star
in this 1988 Ken Russell
(Lady Chatterley)
vampire comedy drawing from Bram Stoker and earlier English tales.
Granted, there are no subtitles, making the assorted dialects or
cheeky banter tough for some. Folk rock stylings combined with neon
and line dances are out of date, too, however the music does provide
critical pieces on the eponymous legend. The horror gross buffet
winks on English cuisine – setting the quaint country mood
alongside a deputy who can't come to the scene because the chief has
taken their one car and the lone taxi driver is locked up for
drinking. Alas, backyard archaeology uncovers giant, inexplicable
fossils amid Roman foundations – leading to vanished parents,
cavern evidence, and spelunking for dragon-like earthworms. Ominous
short cuts culminate in garter belts, black lingerie, thigh high
boots, and steamy baths from one suave ladyship neighbor. The trouser
snake and one-eyed monster meets vampire penetrations provide
eighties wit and sexy yet absurd self-awareness while nudity and
girly temptations accent the creepy paintings and stewardess dream
sequences. Fiery flashbacks with nuns, crucifixion, nasty worms, and
rapacious Romans look effects poor, yet the bizarre and scary visuals
remain effective. Christian versus pagan virgins and scarifies call
out both schools as warped angles, hypnotic camera zooms, and well
shot frames capture the background crucifix or the monstrous altar in
front. Victim paralysis, hissing, lengthy fangs, and spitting venom
create a unique reptile design matching the snakes and ladders
symbolism and heavy rituals interrupted by the gosh darn bloody
doorbell. Although this has a very British, over the top cheerio
tone, that bemusing pip pip bungling at times impedes the heroes.
It's not scary and snake charmer musical moments are laughable today
– but those bagpipes do come in handy! Evil manor surprises result
in an intense monster ritual finale complete with green effects, blue
body paint, snake gods, visions of bloody bodies on spikes, and a
bonus
scary looking strap-on giant pointy dildo thing...ouch.
Nothing but the Night –
Lovely seaside waves escalate toward explosive cliffside accidents
and townhouse suicides in this 1973 ninety minute thriller full of
fun seventies interiors and retro British stylings. Funky patterns
and zany lamps catch the eye while cool cars, phone booths, tape
recorders, old science equipment, teletype machines, and printouts
accent the rowdy school bus, suspicious orphanage, and hospital
experiments. Meddling newspaper reporters uncover mysterious trust
organizations with cult connections, and scholarly doctor Peter
Cushing and personally invested police colonel Christopher Lee work
together as membership fatalities, red tape, politicking, and
aristocratic histories impede the case –leaving a traumatized young
girl in the balance. Yes, oft onscreen rivals or villains Big Pete
and Our Man Christopher are good guys (!) on the same side (!!)
unraveling past traumas and fiery experiences with hypnosis and
tender child moments as they battle against a prostitute mother and
shady trustees. Both the doctors and the law are trying to do what's
right, and Georgia Brown (The
Raging Moon) holds her own
against misogyny, little woman in the workplace tensions, and some
mixing business with pleasure. Fedoras, spotlights, and silhouettes
also invoke a noir mood over the seemingly straightforward corruption
– initially there really isn't much horror or sinister to the
procedural and press conferences. However, freaky deaths, fine child
performances, and possibly supernatural twists soon imply something
is not right about this island orphanage beyond the converging
crimes. Some viewers may find the plot basic with too many layered
possibilities lacking a cohesive finesse, and perhaps this should
have decided on being all spooky or only straight crime rather than
tacking on science and brain talk versus paranormal connections. I
also wish Lee's Charlemagne production company had done more films,
but the cast, period investigation, increasingly creative kills, and
ritual murders do hit home the occult history with shocks, surprises,
bonfires, and a crazy good Guy Fawkes finale.
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