Disappointing 19th Century Gothic Dramas

 

Disappointing 19th Century Gothic Dramas

by Kristin Battestella

These two throwback productions have a lot to offer in period piece morose. Unfortunately, the crowded storytelling makes for disappointing, mixed bag viewing that deserved more.

The Black Velvet Gown – Janet McTeer (Albert Nobbs) leads this 1991 award winning ITV adaption of the Catherine Cookson novel complete with 1830s impoverished patchwork and dirty coal downtrodden mood. The dated, flat print actually helps the humble, hardworking candles and quills as our widow Mariah and her children come to work at a dilapidated manor for four shillings plus room and board. Bitter spinster sisters give the disapproving once over and gossip about what trouble she is because Mariah can read and write, but chores and montages with upbeat music and ye olde town square bustle imply circumstances are otherwise happy. The master sets up a school in his library for the children and offers our housekeeper his mother's titular gown. However, suggested love triangles with the woodsman move quickly, nobody seems to brood or like each other that much yet there's talk of marriage and Mariah disrobes to wait for the master – who says she doesn't look that much older than her little daughter. Though struggling financially, he promises the children puppies and ponies, crossing fatherly boundaries and creepily manhandling them before the enraged twelve year old boy slices up the master with a sickle. The master admits he had to give up teaching because of his “weakness” but his threat to have the boy jailed for attacking him carries more weight then his implied abuse? The family is blackmailed into staying, forcing Mariah to rip up that gorgeous dress before the time jumps to eight years later. Our daughter is now quite the scholar, feeling sorry for the deathbed master that taught her and screwed over her family. This moves fast, almost too fast – as if the important elements have been glossed over and we're supposed to sympathize with the master for making the daughter his heiress. The male lawyers think Mariah should be grateful for inheriting this strapped property, speculating that she slept with her master to get it. Unfortunately, any potential behind closed doors meaty is at best tame and largely absent. A letter seemingly confirming the master abused the son is ignored by the daughter he educated, and her being smart is made the worse crime. Servants must know their place and never talk back as we move from mother to daughter in the second half. Young Biddy remains determined at the new downstairs, defiant despite being whipped while her brother is said to be smart enough to keep quite. The abusive undercurrent is confusing, for sex was seemingly traded to the previous master yet it's this tough laundress work that must be endured and overcome. What filth she's spreading by quoting poetry in public and learning letters in the servant quarters! Although the nothing new statements are weak, the high up idiots not wanting anyone else to gain knowledge reeks of today. Once elevated to chambermaid, our daughter learns how to behave and marries up before using her inheritance to open an equal opportunity school. The morose atmosphere, dramatic performances, and attention to class detail are here, however the last half hour rushes with no focus on how our smart girls cause trouble and all the men want them nonetheless. The twofold storytelling feels pointless with no time to tell either properly – leaving viewers to read the book to get the whole tale. I mean, the dress never even had to do with anything? Great frock, though. Would wear!

The Doctor and the Devils – The Burke and Hare names are changed for this long gestating 1985 Freddie Francis (Dracula Has Risen from the Grave) directed and Mel Brooks (Dracula: Dead and Loving It) produced horror yarn with a surprisingly elite cast. Well dressed doctor Timothy Dalton's (Penny Dreadful) sophisticated justification of what must be done in the name of anatomy and male only lecture hall contrast the gory body on the exam table – the grim product of grave diggers Stephen Rea (The End of the Affair) and Jonathan Pryce (Tomorrow Never Dies) who circumvent medical law for three guineas a body to impress working girl Twiggy (Brand New World). Dirty streets, ruined clothes, and congested pubs don't mix with the top hats and brightly lit upscale, reiterating the classism between working girls and well to do praying doctor's sister Sian Phillips (I, Claudius). The dialogue is intriguing and the performances well done. However this is slow to start with to and from coming and going carriages and romps in the back alleys. Drawn out scenes and idle busy moments delay the graveside thefts, creepy cadaver cuttings, bleeding arteries, and blood splatter marring the fine shirts and ties. At only ninety-two minutes, this should know whether it's focus is the murderous men or the medial horror. Pretty medical assistant Julian Sands (Gothic) gets his hands dirty in buying the bodies, but seeing his girl in the shady brothel, well that's too much! Humor and hooker jokes are apparently meant to have us laugh at the downtrodden who have resorted to killing, but the realistic gore and muffled smotherings in the dark are a better warped. After all, our desperate snatchers are putting bedridden victims out of their misery. The dirty pain, black teeth, and pox sallow waste of the living is made new, fresh, and useful as a dead body. New messy science has no time for red tape impeding a surgeon who makes scary sense when he objects to his talents being shackled by outdated ideology. Rival professor Patrick Stewart (Star Trek) is suspicious of our flippant doctor at the medical inquest. Yes that is his kidney in the jar but it's not his kidney! Healing a grateful cripple offering a meager payment conflicts with the necessary dehumanizing of the cadaver. Our doctor can't worry that they used to be people when it's his duty to do what needs to be done in the name of science. The provocative ideas are crowded with the body snatching comic relief, unnecessary scenes, back alley cockfights, and long gaps with seemingly important characters absent onscreen. The last half hour rushes with dinner parties shocked to hear of homelessness, doomed women, and the city squalor beneath the high society galleries. More victims and moralistic questions split hairs on if paying for bodies is murder for hire. Poor lodgers who suspect foul play and a tough old lady that just won't die are oddly played for laughs amid fiery dreams, butchers, and bodies in the sewer. Recognizing a victim is inconsequential when our doctor demands that he is right and the medical establishment is wrong. The Hammer throwback vibes and gothic atmosphere are welcome with working girls in peril, betrayals, and fingers left in the fireplace. However the period drama and humorous attempts don't quite come together with the best horror moments. This wraps up quickly with who's arrested or gets away unbothered becoming lost – probably thanks to the decades of delay and too many hands on the script.

More Period Piece Horrors

More Period Piece Horrors

by Kristin Battestella

These retro and recent films provide another round of creepiness, evil, and dread in intriguing period piece settings.

Annabelle: Creation – Anthony LaPaglia (Innocent Blood) and Miranda Otto (Lord of the Rings) star in director David F. Sanberg's (Lights Out) 2017 prequel opening with 1943 rural quaint, grand farmhouses, period records, church bells, and one of a kind handcrafted dolls before highway perils and screams intrude on the country charm. By 1955, the home is dusty and unkempt; there are no more smiles or laughter greeting the displaced young nun and her orphan charges taken in by the reclusive doll maker and his invalid wife. The girls explore the big house with all its nooks and crannies, but the older snobs hog the best stuff while younger BFFs making packs to stay together are divided by the farm freedom thanks to one girl's polio injuries. The others are off playing while she's left behind with doors closing by themselves, locked rooms, creepy doll parts, dumbwaiters, and maybe maybe not phantoms glimpsed down the dark hallway. Choice horror distortions, gothic architecture, and crosses everywhere accent the weird scarecrows, secret crawlspace, locked closets, and hidden playroom with tea party ready toys and an ominous dollhouse. Buzzing lights, footsteps, and creaking hinges disturb the antiques and old fashioned nostalgia – the relatable characters, setting, and mood are entirely different than the horror cliches in the first Annabelle. Distorted music, demonic looking shadows, and The Nun in the background of the convent picture set off scary claws, growling, and chilling but disbelieved encounters. Our Annabelle sure gets about, and the reflections, mirrors, masks, lanterns, and lighting schemes are well done amid haunted house or possession revelations. Evil seeking souls preys on the smallest and the weakest, and scary stories under the sheets lead to flickering flashlights and black footprints going underneath the bunk bed. Of course, some girls have more screen time than others, with lookalike brunettes and two really there for no reason – one being a black girl who isn't even worthy of receiving an individual fright. The runaway wheelchair or the doll sitting at the dinner table could also be laughable if not for the cracking bones, glowing demon eyes, and paralysis. Fortunately, fearful orphans with an innocuous pop gun reeling in more than its tethered ball strike at the sacred under the covers safety while invasive takeovers and black goo mar those in little white nightgowns. Yeah, if you have all these creepy toy secrets and evil house problems, maybe you shouldn't sign up to shelter orphans, FYI. Mistaken adults realize the consequences too late, and an exposition flashback with exorcisms and rooms lined with Bible passages to contain the evil within should have been shown at the beginning. Such two halves of the story would have been fine, for once we get the traditional tell all, the gory shocks, prayers, and screams devolve into intrusive, modern whooshes across the screen, swooping pans calling attention to themselves, flying objects, and more padding cliches including the car not starting and monsters crawling on the ceiling. Although we've seen what this evil can do, the consequences are minimal because, after all, there's a franchise to consider. With such religious characters, the spiritual answers versus demons are never fully embraced, and the police are apparently content with priests blessing the house while evil moves on for a coda from the first movie – which doesn't quite match up with what has already been shown in The Conjuring universe. This unravels in the end to make room for more sequels, however, the atmospheric chills make for an entertaining watch even if you haven't seen the companion films.

The Ghoul – Freddie Francis (Torture Garden) directs Veronica Carlson (Dracula Has Risen from the Grave), John Hurt (Only Lovers Left Alive), and priest turned doctor Peter Cushing (Curse of Frankenstein) in this 1975 Tyburn production fronting heaps of flapper glam with pearls, fancy frocks, furs, and champagne. Disturbing hangings are just a lark for the twenties parties before phonographs, Charlestons, and sweet roadsters. Sure, the terribly dated rear view projection is bemusing, but the tight races, perilous bends, tense speeds, accidents, and blind cliffs lead to no petrol, stranded survivors, strangers in the woods, animal cages, and a nearby manor on the soggy moors. After the rapacious chases, the regal home with divine woodwork, antiques, medieval touches, chapels, and – most importantly – tea seems safe, quaint, even sad. Knowing Cushing filmed under the duress of his own late wife adds to the past family tragedies in India, somber violins, and loss of faith. Searches are called off thanks to fog that may not lift for days, however candles, red curtains, ominous melodies, creepy portraits, and maniacal laughter suggest something is going on behind the manor's locked doors. Whispers from the attic, red wraps, and white gowns lead to something decrepit coming down the stairs, and the camera follows the ugly feet, boils, blood, and ritualistic blades. Tearing the bed curtains and penetrating, bloody knives provide symbolic violence to the gruesome murders as we started with one happy group but lose them to something more sinister. Bodies on the table, kitchen utensils, ritual cuttings, and barrels of salt escalate to sobbing before the altar and suicides while police and trespassers are foiled with decoy explanations. The spooky atmosphere builds to choice horror moments with claustrophobic shacks, bog perils, crosses, and desecration, and prowlers hoping to lure fresh supple dames culminates in near rescues, fleshy confessions, screams, and blood. Granted, the print is flat, the subtitles don't match – they're even nonsensical at times – and the film's summary on Amazon Prime gives away the tasty what's what. After all the xenophobic monstrosity undertones, it's also a bit of a letdown once we finally see the eponymous creeper saved for the twisted finale. Considering the Hammer pedigree both in front and behind the camera, this lacks a certain polish and an over the top of the time ferocity perhaps understandably expected. Fortunately, this eighty minutes plus doesn't overstay its late night macabre welcome thanks to Cushing's bittersweet performance.

You Make the Call

The Lodgers – Dark lakes, Loftus Hall locales, heartbeats, and racing to beat the midnight clock chimes open this 1920 set 2017 Irish production. Torn wallpaper, water in the woodwork, trap doors, boarded windows, and shabby furnishings intrude on the once grand staircase, and there's a sadness to these orphaned twins, their meager meals, and their fear of the very thing that keeps them together. Dirty mirrors, covered furniture, dusty birdcages, and more turn of the century than post-war clothing add to the old fashioned atmosphere alongside a creepy nursery rhyme that reminds the siblings of the house rules. Our sister, however, takes more risks than her sickly, skeletal looking brother – she's ready to leave as their eighteenth birthday promises only more bleakness with suspect letters, nosy lawyers, family curses, and apparitions in the water. Hooded capes, lockets, ravens, a prohibited gate, and overgrown ruins in the woods likewise provide a morose fairy tale feeling against the underlining interwar versus at home issues, tense village, and local hooligans. Their finances have run out but selling the house is not an option thanks to nude shadows, whispering entities, whirlpools, and phallic eels in the bathtub. Dim lanterns, bridal beds, velvet curtains, and virginal white satin accent the obviously icky suggestions and forbidden fruits growing in the family cemetery, and locked in scares create chills because of the invasive, no privacy nature of the manor. Our brother is regressing while his sister takes charge, and this all feels very similar to Crimson Peak – complete with a watery ceiling instead of snow, nature seeping up to the surface, and stabbings in the front doorway. This however, is bitter rather than colorful, a mix of supernatural versus psychological with a young lady's innate fears over the one thing a man wants. Touching the local soldier's amputation injury is just as intimate as sexual relations, and if there is not sex according to the family needs, there will still be killer motivations, stabbing penetrations, and blood. Viewers feel the shameful secrets and sinful oppression, but sometimes logic does intrude. All that dampness and mold in the house would surely make them ill and shouldn't four generations of incest make them deformed? The atmosphere here is heavy, however the tale never goes far enough with the housebound horror or mental torment answers. Are the men gaslighting the women to accept rape and incest? The ambiguity doesn't explain the supernatural phenomena and laughable dream sequences with naked floating hold back the moody metaphors. Thankfully, stormy action, sickly pallor, and an eerie family parade complete the gothic dread and distorted environs in the finale, and although there's little repeat value, this is watchable if you don't expect frights a minute and can enjoy a creepy sense of period unease.

Top Ten: Directors!

Welcome to our new Top Tens series in celebration of I Think, Therefore I Review's Tenth Anniversary! These monthly lists will highlight special themes and topics from our extensive archive of reviews.

This time I Think, Therefore I Review presents in alphabetical order...

Our Top Ten Directors!

Mario Bava

John Carpenter

Roger Corman

Wes Craven

David Cronenberg

Freddie Francis

Joseph Mankiewicz

George Romero

Billy Wilder

William Wyler

Please see our Movies page for even more Classic or Horror Directors listed by Genre or Decade! And don't worry if you don't see a famous name – there are more Top Tens to come all year long!

I Think, Therefore I Review began as the blog home for previously published reviews and reprinted critiques by horror author Kristin Battestella. Naturally older articles linked here may be out of date and codes or formatting may be broken. Please excuse any errors and remember our Top Tens will generally only include films, shows, books, or music previously reviewed at I Think, Therefore I Review. 

 

70s Creatures and Killers

Seventies Creatures and Killers

By Kristin Battestella

From poisonous snakes and wild yetis to deadly daughters and a killer family playing house, here’s a quartet of deranged creatures and murderous mayhem replete with seventies charm.

Blood Mania – The swanky music might not be for everyone, but the period clothes are groovy, and dreamy, wild opening credits with wispy nightgowns and psychedelic lighting start this 1970 flick off right. Producer, writer, and star Peter Carpenter (Point of Terror) has intimate fun with the dames and the double entendres while his crusty doctor turned invalid patient worries if his slutty daughter Maria De Aragon (the face behind Greedo in Star Wars, wow!) is poisoning his breakfast. The blackmail and twists play like a porno edited without the follow thru – seriously, the morning bathtub, the pool boy, a crook ogling a wife, tension between said daughter and the pissy nurse – all before one heady, hazy, drug induced sex scene. This sexploitation design gets to the naked chicks in frothy bathtubs and seducing swimming pools quickly, however the horror is slow coming for an 80-minute picture. Not only is there a fun romantic romp at the marketplace montage and characters entering the uneven plots too late, but it’s halfway thru the film before we get to contesting family wills and something sinister afoot. Fans of soft saucy and juicy skin with only a little crazy and creepy scares can have a good night in here for sure. There is a bloody good, gory, if a bit nonsensical finale, too. However, I’m not sure how this was ever classified as horror or ended up with such a mismatched title. Indeed, I do hope these rumors of a missing twenty minutes resolve the scary plot holes and more importantly comes out on video soon!

Girly – Originally entitled Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny, and Girly, director Freddie Francis (Dracula Has Risen from the Grave) crafts a character unto itself in the lovely Oakley Court estate landscapes and its 1970 décor and period interiors for this hour and forty minutes. Fun zoo and animal footage adds to the seemingly safe and secure before creepy voiceovers, suggestive siblings, loony adults, and playing dress up reveal the mischievous but perfectly demented Mary Poppins manner soon to unravel thanks to disturbing Lolita feelings, implied sexual aspects, and playmate macabre. Some today may find the pace slow to get going or the no one acting their ages British baby talk annoying, but the twisted build and off kilter humor work nicely with the perspective camera work, hinted violence, and increasingly disturbing intensity. Unexpected jack in a box jump moments keep the audience on edge while bizarre adult size cribs and rocking horses accent the sickly effective racist and anti-Christian moments. At times, it may be tough to laugh at the unseen nasty and the well done skin crawling feeling it creates, yet this peculiar family unit is strangely entertaining. The twisted sing songs and murderous rhymes escalate toward a darker tone as the fun and games turn into a life and death test of dementia and wills. How did this all begin and where is it going? How long can these divisive depravities endure? Horror fans expecting blood and gore or final analysis may be disappointed, but those who enjoy depraved character studies with clever implications will delight in the simmering spectacle here.

Snowbeast – Ominous music and dangerous snowy slopes belie the sunshiny 1977 ski fashions, snowmobiles, and lush Colorado locales peppering this deadly bigfoot tale. Despite the faded public print, a slightly small scale made for television production, and some pathetically lame bloody ski jackets; lovely forests and mountain photography shine along with tracking zooms and killer camera perspectives. And the cast knows how to ski! The spooky atmosphere restarts slightly once Bo Svenson (Breaking Point) and Yvette Mimieux (The Time Machine) arrive, and a past love triangle is somewhat unnecessary, as is a skimpy Olympic flashback. However, these elements provide some unexpected for a horror movie of the week dialogue on how Olympians often have difficulty coming down to mortal levels and regular life after such glory. Womanly angst aside, this really is just a Jaws in the snow clone – one man believes in a monster after an opening attack, but pesky grandma Sylvia Sidney (Beetlejuice) dismisses it as an avalanche and withholds the news because the economically needed carnival must go on. Unheeding people take to the slopes, death ensues, and sheriff Clint Walker (Cheyenne) claims it was a grizzly attack by presenting a mistakenly shot bear. Contrived miscommunication and crap police action grow tiresome and the ski montages are a tad longer than necessary. Thankfully, the period lack of smartphones and natural snowy isolation remain effective. Shaggy Yeti arm appearances create scare toppers amid the more dramatic act by act pace, and the bigfoot gone wild is smartly only seen in shadows, dark windows, hairy flashes, or with quick, snarling teeth. Seeing what the monster does – over turned vehicles, logs tumbling, shattered glass – rather than what it definitively is keeps this watchable despite those Jaws comparisons and dated archetypes.  The pace is uneven in the final act – switching focus on characters and coming to a somewhat speedily conclusion considering how we really just watched people skiing for 85 minutes – but this one remains fun for a summer cool down or a snowy night in with the family. 

Stanley – 1972 eco statements, animal photography, and lots of peace and love music start this 100 plus minutes before the period Everglades beauty quickly turns into dangerous swamps and fatal quicksand. For some viewers, the poisonous snakes and creepy crawly pets will be horror enough thanks to effective slithering and hissing sounds – our titular friend is a rattlesnake, after all. Star Chris Robinson (12 O’clock High) must have been very comfortable with all those snakes around his neck! Racist injun and redskin remarks and more inappropriate attitudes of the time from the wrong people around him, however, don’t make his Tim any more likeable for the audience. He’s too warped and creepy, talking to snakes, sleeping with his little friends, and using the critters for his own reprisals. What gives him the right? Interesting Seminole reflections don’t have time to blossom either thanks to the obligatory biting the villain on the butt sequence. Enemy Alex Rocco (The Godfather) has some icky incestuous dialogue as well, but these shenanigans away from Stanley’s vengeance feel somewhat pointless. Lullaby music for baby snakes and snake funerals are also a bit too bemusing and confuse the tone of the picture. Is this serious about reptile abuses or is it meant to be hokey? Knowing that the snakes themselves were most likely mistreated during production of the film kind of mars any environmental statements to be had. The burlesque shows onscreen are weak and the pace is more run of the mill revenge action than horror, but there are some original, fun moments here with plenty of snaky bits to make your skin crawl. 

More Peter Cushing Fun!

A Third Helping of Peter Cushing!

By Kristin Battestella

That irrepressible and delightfully spooky little old man is up to his diabolic tricks again in this trio of period science fiction and scares!

At the Earth’s Core – Grand Moff Tarkin himself Peter Cushing adds wonderful charm and humor along side Doug McClure (The Virginian) and Caroline Munro (The Spy Who Loved Me) in director Kevin Connor’s (The Land That Time Forgot) 1976 Edgar Rice Burroughs adaption– the final AIP and Amicus produced picture. Though lovable, Burroughs’ tales are simplistic or juvenile today, and the hokey names and places here are tough to pronounce. Fluorescent pink colors, smoke, plastic plants, and very bad rubber creatures don’t disguise the obvious backdrop screens, but dated production aside, the Victorian fantasy, old technology, spectacles, gears, and gizmos add heaps of fun. Top hats, bemusing umbrellas, and proper posh accents counter the totally impractical, fast and easy science and strengthen the still intriguing premise. I wish we could still make more science fiction and fantasy films like this without our high tech, super smart ways. All this stuff goes down inside the earth, the humans there all speak English, and we never even know! Although people of all creeds appear as slaves, the period “master race” wording and comments about being unable to identify one of another race because they all look a like are iffy. Large crowd and fight scenes do make it difficult to tell who is who and the male battle bonding is slightly homoerotic, but it’s easy to root for McClure – who keeps on his Victorian waistcoat thru it all! The pace slows with awe, look at me zooms on the intelligent, high tech dinosaur birds, but both Burroughs and the film were ahead of the then uncommon theory. Kinky scenes with these giant birds swooping down to take the women add enough suggestion, but the fight the beasties, get the girl, white savior educate the primitives and free the slaves plot meanders without real goals, morality, or Prime Directive considerations. The characters, however, are surprisingly well developed with twists ahead of the exciting multi level battle finale. The 90 minutes may be too long and the DVD elusive, yet there’s enough whimsy and bittersweet to keep this corny humor and adventure watchable and entertaining for the whole family.

Blood Beast Terror – This 1967 British moths run amok tale starts off a little too slow and takes the better part of its 88 minutes in getting to the countryside for the eponymous vampish action. Though fun too see, the Victorian interiors, morbid bugs, and inexplicable entomology feels a touch hokey, familiar, or similar to other turn of the century macabre. Robert Flemyng’s (The Horrible Dr. Hichcock) diabolical motivations and back story aren’t fully revealed either, as the pacing and editing between his science and Peter Cushing’s murder investigation is too uneven. While it’s nice to see OBE Pete as an undercover, one step behind inspector instead of as yet another Victorian scientist, perhaps the narrative should have been exclusively one or the to invoke the mystery of the case or the fear of the pursuit. Fortunately, the pleasing older cast does inspire our sympathy and intrigue on both sides, even if it’s tough to tell the handsome young victims apart. Beautiful daughters Wanda Ventham (Doctor Who) and Vanessa Howard (Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly) also smartly factor into the good or ill or innocence and kinky. There’s also a whiff of Frankenstein parody and parables from director Vernon Sewell (The Crimson Cult) along with a fun awareness thanks to the onscreen mad scientist play within a play. Whatever preposterousness the title may conjure, the effects here aren’t bad at all. We don’t really have a full reveal until the fast paced finale, and the personal and monster pursuits come together to forgive any quibbles.

The Creeping Flesh – They’re brothers! I finally saw this somewhat elusive, non-Hammer 1973 Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing pairing on television, and the gory paintings, fun bones, giant skeletons, and ghoulish laboratory feelings are worth the pursuit. The Late Victorian designs are perfect, from great accessories, books, and old gadgets to bloody slides, microscopes, and real monkeys – although that part isn’t too pretty! Lovely family dynamics with Lorna Heilbron (Clarissa) add to the household history, brotherly competition, and paternal sacrifices in this search for evolutionary answers gone awry. I’ll say it: the titular effects are indeed creepy and well done; fine editing, suspense directing, smart shadows, shrouded figures, and what you don’t see film making by Freddie Francis ties the dastardly science mood together. Lunatics on the loose, prehistoric skeletons with special properties – the mix of modern scientific theories and fantastic fiction isn’t sick and twisted but provides just enough intrigue and gruesome to match Big Cush’s desperation and obsession.  Are diseases, madness, and evil one and the same and can science fight such a thing? Both Lee – who’s rocking that goatee! – and Cushing are up to varying degrees of no good for different reasons. Mistakes, immoralities, and gentlemanly slick add to the tension, connections, and aha twists between them. Although the flashbacks and their implications are well told along with some bawdy and rapaciousness, the timeline can be confusing and I wish there were subtitles. Despite some implausibility, this science meets horror question makes for a dang entertaining and intense finish.  Why isn’t this frickin’ DVD readily available?!

Mid Century Mystery and Thrillers!

Mid Century Mysteries, Macabre, and Mayhem

By Kristin Battestella

From big sci-fi horrors and mental scares to quiet Victorian fair and murder, classic film stars of the fifties and sixties knew how to spot these quality, good, old-fashioned, noir-infused mysteries and thrillers. 

The Hitch-Hiker – Actress turned director and co-writer Ida Lupino (High Sierra, Outrage) sets the bar with this ominous, black and white 70 minute road trip noir from 1953. From the foreboding “this could be you” opening warning and the faceless what you don’t see start to public paranoia and international investigations hot in pursuit, William Talman (Perry Mason), Edmond O’Brien (The Barefoot Contessa), and Frank Lovejoy (House of Wax) keep the suspense heavy. Everything from getting gas to stopping for groceries becomes intense here!  Ominous scoring, period music, stylized shadows and light, and Spanish flavors accent the peril while cool cars, gunplay, and desert locales keep this carjacking dangerous. The vehicular footage is anxious too thanks to nice interior filming and claustrophobic camerawork. Speedy roadwork and more close calls keep the viewer wondering when and how this all comes to a head. Though the end is a little rushed, the tension is entertaining in getting there. Sure, some may find the early fifties look dated, but this one feels quite modern actually, with desperation and intensity to spare. 

Invasion of the Body Snatchers – Kevin McCarthy (Death of a Salesman), Dana Wynter (D-Day the Sixth of June), and Carolyn Jones (The Addams Family) star in this 1956 science fiction fright fest full of interpretive allegories, scary great scoring, precious little special effects, and a simply stunning mood. Director Don Siegel (Dirty Harry) and author Jack Finney’s visions are tamed a touch thanks to the flashback frame, but the slow build of askew and helplessness creates the perfect mix of noir and what you don’t see paranoia. Where would you go and what would you do if alien pod people invaded your town? The natural fears escalate into desperation as friends and neighbors become the people you can’t trust. Nothing around you is what it seems, the clock is ticking, and there is nowhere to turn. Crooked camera views and angled perspectives accentuate the simplistic, seemingly innocent events as they turn into a frenzied chase, mass hysteria, and can’t fall asleep panic. The whiff of love story and focus on humanity before the science fiction and effects works surprisingly well against the erratic loss of emotion threatening our couple, too. Despite the sweet frocks, cool cars, classy drinking, and those slide across bucket seats, the fifties trappings may be too over the top for some of today’s viewers accustomed to more stylized variations on the theme. The 1978 remake is for those audiences, but this original remains a must see, taught thriller from start to finish. 

Man in the Attic – Jack Palance (Shane, City Slickers, and most importantly, Ripley’s Believe it or Not) stars in this black and white 1953 remake based upon the oft-adapted Jack the Ripper novel The Lodger by Marie Belloc Lowndes. While the fifties meets Victorian Ripper colloquialisms and trite accents are tough to start the 82 minutes, period fashions and décor add to the old world mystery atmosphere. The young and handsome Palance is, of course, slick as always – he looks slightly fifties in his suave suit, but not so American as to be unbelievable  in the role. Although we suspect him of Ripper relations just because he’s Jack Palance, to his credit, his nicely odd, antisocial, awkward, and wound up tenant Slade plays against our sinister expectations. The criminal pace, police investigations, and suspicions, however, mount accordingly with a tense score to match. Sadly, the Can Can and French style musical scenes are too dated, small scale, out of place, and simply not as interesting as the titular implications, and this gives the scenes away from Palance a slightly unpolished feeling. Thankfully, the clarified, easy to follow, step-by-step Ripper plot is well done – good screams, smart uses of shadows and light, and off screen killings lead into a pursuit finish for this nice little atmospheric thriller. 

The Phantom Fiend – Then again, this 1932 hour long talkie with Ivor Novello – star of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1927 silent version, too – is also from same Lowndes source and still worth a look. The print quality is poor and the fast, tough to hear dialogue can be confusing, yet it’s neat to see those classic phone operators, newspaper headlines, tilted hats, furs, and period dressings adding to the crimes. Though seemingly charming, there is something creepy and suspicion afoot as the body count rises for a screaming finish. And did I mention there’s a 1944 adaptation just called The Lodger as well? Whew!

Please Murder Me – This 1956 black and white 75-minute noir starring future television crime solvers Angela Lansbury (Murder She Wrote) and Raymond Burr (Perry Mason) mixes guns, affairs, and bribery. The courtroom doubts and debates up the ante, too, and for love or money motives accentuate the crimes. Though stylized shadows and dark, up close photography add to the mood and suspense, the picture is too dark in some spots. The more telling than showing start is also a little slow, but great one on one scenes with fun soap opera drama and dialogue keep up the tension in all the right places. Lightning, hefty scoring, and black cats are tossed in for good measure as the titular actions hit, too. Some of the deduction and legalese may be too simplistic for today’s trial savvy audiences, yet other unforeseen twists and the novelty of seeing the stars in such early performances more than makes up the difference.

The Psychopath – I caught this 1966 Amicus toy creeper and murder mystery from director Freddie Francis (Evil of Frankenstein) and writer Robert Bloch (Psycho) late one night on Turner Classic Movies, and the sinister little dolls at the scenes of the crimes are very effective. Likewise, Inspector Patrick Wymark (The Plane Makers, The Power Game) is affable in his deduction – even if the investigation techniques are perhaps straightforward or obvious compared to the intricate plots tempting today’s criminology wise viewer. There’s a fine, international feeling to the intriguing suspects as well. Each has interesting accents, quirky vibes, snotty airs, suspicions, motives, and secrets. Nutty old lady Margaret Johnston (Portrait of Clare) adds to the macabre with her creepy doll collection, and the old school Victorian feelings and décor accent the then-contemporary classy, swanky sixties looks. There’s room for humor, too, thanks to the sardonic autopsies on the doll victims, and a hint of skin and sauce balances the suspenseful killings. The eerie sounds, music, and silence keep the pace steady for the full 83 minutes as the crimes escalate towards a memorable topper. Sure, there’s a plot hole or two, but there’s also room for some guesses, twists, and good old-fashioned mystery. 

Hidden Hammer Delights!!

Hidden Hammer Delights

By Kristin Battestella

After being unable to find several of these elusive films from Hammer Studios in stores, streaming, or on the almighty Netflix, I was surprised to receive this Hammer Horror Series Franchise Collection set for Christmas. Though they may be lesser known Hammer fare, this quartet is worth the pursuit indeed for the horror laymen or the Hammer enthusiast.

Kiss of the Vampire – This 1963 side-quel in the studio’s Dracula franchise has all the expected color, gothic design, and vivid style of its compatriots. There are some interesting filming touches, camera angles, and good old Bray Studios again, too.  This uncut original 88 minutes has all its intended blood and juicy intact as well, and the foreboding music and turn of the century costumes complete the spooky atmosphere. Good screams, sexy chicks lying in wait for some fangs – it’s all almost enough to combat the run of the mill, good for background, looks like a Hammer Film casting. We feel for Edward de Souza (also of Hammer’s The Phantom of the Opera) as the proverbial blood hits the fan, but the ensemble is just too British bland. It’s tough to make a Hammer vampire picture without any stars. Though creepy, the premise is typical as well –a honeymooning couple’s car breaks down before a dreary hotel and then a bizarre invitation to dine with the local noble of sinister repute arrives. There are pictures of folks who haven’t aged and a masquerade ball/cult scene, too. One would swear this was a recent movie! I know it sounds all flash and no substance, but the subtle religious hints and possibilities of vampirism as a disease or social club are intriguing. To modern eyes, the finale special effects might seem corny, but the conclusion is a fitting, intense, top shelf twist on this entertaining little piece.  

Nightmare – Oft Hammer compatriots Freddie Francis and Jimmy Sangster team up for this very moody and effective 1964 black and white thriller. Eerie music and smart uses of silence and diegetic sound accent the sixties styles, snow scenery, and mysterious country estates. Excellent light and shadow, candlelight and silhouettes also push the insanity fears, paranoia, violence, murder, and creepy ladies over the edge. There’s a wonderful, scream-filled flashback adding to the mystery, and solid suspense filming works for both the nightmare bizarre and the askew real world, too. Is crazy inherited? What does childhood trauma do to the mind? Or is there something else at work entirely?  Some of the screams might be a bit too much, and at first, one may think this is merely an extended Twilight Zone episode. However, some added kink keeps the audience wondering how far the terrors are going to go. The twists keep on coming for not one long Twilight Zone, but rather this invokes a lot of TZ-esque tricks woven together – and it works.

Paranoiac – Everybody’s swindling somebody and pulling over the wool in this 1963 suspense filled twister, another from director Freddie Francis and writer Jimmy Sangster. To start, the situations or red herrings may seem obvious or the premise standard – insanity, mistaken identity, inheritance, incest and all that given and taken from Josephine Tey’s source novel. However, the cast keeps it interesting, and wow Oliver Reed is so young! He makes for a great drunken playboy, of course, and Janette Scott (School for Scoundrels) is also honest and charming in what can so easily turn into annoying hysteria. The country house, classic cars, Old World décor, and sixties glam also work wonderfully with solid camera work and the black and white crisp photography. Contrast and shadow lighting also add to the foreboding, religious symbolism, and kinky crazy implications between Reed (Curse of the Werewolf), nasty French nurse Liliane Brousse (Maniac), and harsh aunt Sheila Burrell (The Six Wives of Henry VIII) – not to mention the suicide plotlines. It’s all a bit racy for the time, and although I don’t really see any Psycho connections, these people have every right to the eponymous paranoia. The creepy music hastens the puzzle, and the solid pace makes this one feel longer and deeper than 80 minutes. I’m surprised more Hammer fans don’t talk about this piece. Sure, it’s not uber horror and some scenes might be hokey now. However, the eerie atmosphere and dang good fright moments keeps this one entertaining.

And a Split Decision

The Phantom of the Opera – This 1962 Hammer adaptation of the oft-recounted Gaston Leroux tale moves the music to the creepy bowels of London and doesn’t star any of the studio’s more famous leads. Director Terence Fisher also strays from his usual flair with erroneous, herky-jerky camera zooms. A production like this should be a polished, colorful presentation, even a spectacle, not some misunderstood Phantom’s viewpoint cinema.  Surprisingly, Michael Gough is also on the nose as the slick and snotty Lord Ambrose, the rest of the cast is un-dynamic, the decrepit Phantom make-up is uninspired, and the obviously dubbed operas are a downer, too. This rendition isn’t so much a carnival musical as it is a macabre looking period piece with some stage numbers in it, and for 84 minutes, the pacing is slow and stagnant. Though the good scares and fright moments are too few and far between, there is some visual value in the quality turn of the century décor, top hats, gas lamps, velvets and lace.  Hammer completists or Phantom obsessed can enjoy this unique take – it’s flawed, but also must be seen for its dark interpretation.

The Hammer Horror Series Franchise Collection also included four more well-known Hammer Films. Feel free to continue with our previous reviews of the following:

Brides of Dracula

The Curse of the Werewolf

Night Creatures

The Evil of Frankenstein

60s and 70s Vampires, Oh My!

Sixties and Seventies Vampires, Oh My!

By Kristin Battestella

Yes, unbelievable as it is among all our recent undead teenage angst, vampires have really been around for a long time.  Now that Twilight has finally come to an end, newly grown up bloodsucker fans and old-school vamp obsessives alike can revisit these campy, sexy, mid-century ghouls or open the juicy retro coffin anew.

 (Looks like V8...)

Blood of Dracula's Castle – Oh yes, John Carradine’s (Bluebeard) a butler serving Double O Positive Blood in this 1969 vampfest from director Al Adamson (Dracula vs. Frankenstein). Swanky sixties tunes, hot rod cool cars, ironically sunshiny photography, and sweet fashions à la mode all create a mid century meets medieval feeling along with the gothic screams, dark forests, great candles, and charming castles. Thanks to a resident werewolf, human sacrifice, and an outdoor chase or two, the pace keeps up with the flashy mod vamps and sardonic wit onscreen.  However, there is surprisingly little blood considering the title – our aforementioned cupbearer and his nobles’ refined sensibilities for new…vintage as they say notwithstanding! Unfortunately, the low budget video releases also carry some strange green lines and print damage. Unless you think the innate film flaws add to the creepy character and stylized atmosphere, this one is really in need of a proper digital restoration. It’s also weird that all the titular mayhem is taking place in a castle in the middle of Death Valley, USA, but you have to go with the kitschy.  This is not high art, but dungeon secrets, fun scares, short shorts, and bullet bra bikinis keep this hour and a half entertaining.

The Bloody Vampire – The English version of this black and white 1962 Mexican import El Vampire Sangriento opens with eerie slow motion, silent carriages, tolling bells, howling wolves, and creepy forests to set the macabre mood. The candles, Old World Feeling, secret crypts, great architecture, and period costumes counter the almost comically out of place and unmatched dubbing, but there are some eerie good effects, thankfully. Fun Bats, zooms, and coffins mask the fact that once again, there isn’t much of the titular blood. However, the religious arias are a bit out of place and too reverent for the subject. Likewise, some of the sound effects are more fifties UFOs than scary. Fortunately, a few corsets and kinky bedroom threats accent the household violence, vampy bitch slaps, and whips. Although, I’ve never heard a vampire tell his victim/bride to put some clothes on before! It might have been neat to see a South American set tale rather than the standard Eastern European mold, but the English translations add to the gothic horror homage. Count Frankenhausen has a maid named Hildegard “The servants must call me Frau” and a daughter Bronehilda at his cave the “Haunted Hacienda.” Yes, and did I mention that “Vampirina” is the blood of a vampire? The English track is tough to hear, and it’s all back and forth wooden exposition on deadly flower roots, grave robbings, early autopsies, science versus death, vampire mythos, and secret vampire hunting family histories. It might be a dry translation or stilted from the innate Espanol, but at least this isn’t in the over the top telenovela styling we expect today. The pace does pick up for the last half hour, and once you’re past the niche logistics and morbid humor, then this is a good little hour and a half.

 

 (Look, it's 'The Man in the Golden Helmet'! I have this print!)

Crypt of the Living Dead – There’s isn’t a lot of information available on this black and white 1973 tale also known by the wonderfully bad title Hannah, Queen of the Vampires.  Andrew Prine (V) looks so young and the architecture and medieval religious designs are well done, yes. But sadly, the drab, colorless photography hampers the fun, gothic atmosphere. Was this later day black and white filming done by production plan or necessity? The editing is also either very poor or there has been some unfortunate film damage, and the plot is a little slow and silent to start, with too many setups and tough to hear dialogue when we do have it. The nighttime action is almost impossible to see as well, and the frantic camerawork and extreme close ups make what should be straightforward scares somewhat confusing. All this production doom and gloom and yet the script and cast actually aren’t that bad. The music and eerie effects are sinister enough, and there’s a historical spin on the then-contemporary skepticism and ethical debates. Die-hard vamp fans looking to have a fun nighttime viewing will enjoy this. However, the finale is a bit overlong and repetitive for horror lay folk, and those low budget values will hinder the natural fears and good scares for today’s more visually treated audiences. 

 

 (It's a castle...in the desert!)

 

The Vampire Happening – Freddie Francis (The Evil of Frankenstein) directs Pia Degermark (Elvira Madigan) in this 1971 German undead and fleshy romp accented by tongue in cheek scares, jazzy porno music, and incredibly bemusing imagery. From the bug-eye-glasses wearing folks on an airplane watching saucy movies like “Transylvania 1971” to the heady gothic castle where all the nudity and sexy torture goes down, this is how horror comedy should be done. The spooky atmosphere and eerie environments are excellent; the sexy players and fun plot don’t take themselves so seriously. It’s a given that the English dub is bad – though the dialogue is great when you hear it. Some of the zooms and filming angles are weird, sure, and I wish the video print were restored with just a bit more polish. However, the rest of the creepy sound mixing, dreamy effects, and boobaciousness are just fine. The audience for this type of film is almost certainly very niche – we’re beyond Once Bitten but not on the same level as Porky’s. Nevertheless, if anyone twisted and humorous enough is ever seeking a lighthearted bachelor party film near Halloween, this might be the picture. Could a straightforward and sophisticated telling of the story have been any good? Probably. There is a decent but juicy and period morality undercurrent here, but why go with the flow? Although I don’t suspect anyone today can pull it off, I’d actually love to see a retro remake!

The Vampire's Night Orgy – Spanish director Leon Klimovsky (The Dracula Saga) uses an unusual wide screen format for this hour and twenty minutes from 1974. The color is very washed out, too, and unfortunately, the picture is often too dark or tough to see. Like most of the foreign or obscure horror of this era, there’s edited versions and lost prints, and some scenes are regrettably dated and look the likes of seventies porn. Thankfully, those are about the only problems here.  Crazy funerals, wild music, and a nutty countess add to the demented ambiance of ticking clocks, creaking doors, and spooky sound effects. The dubbing is actually in sync and performed well, too, with a few words of un-translated Spanish adding to the Euro flavor. From the interesting premise – an en route house staff’s bus breaks down in an seemingly abandoned town that really has an all too generous blood drinking population – to a bit of kink, nudity, and cannibalism, the screams and foreboding build up are solid. Sure, most of the men look the same with huge mustaches and I’ll be damn, there isn’t a lot of blood to be seen. However, the child actors aren’t annoying, and the vampire violence is well played. One by one, victims are taken down in fast, almost gang rape terror, and the chase finale and twist ending earn top marks. Though in serious need of a restoration and some may have trouble getting past the dated look, this is a nice little scary movie.

(Say Sixties!)