boscofl Reviews

Vera Cruz (1954)

"No such thing as an innocent man"

[8/10 · 18 May 2024]

Vera Cruz is a remarkably entertaining film complete with beautiful location cinematography, a stimulating musical score, an intriguing story, and a superb cast headlined by two of the biggest stars from that era, Gary Cooper and Burt Lancaster. Nearly all of the characters are delightfully fiendish and keep the audience guessing as to how all will turn out. Sticklers for a historically accurate depiction of the Second Franco-Mexican War will find much to quibble over but for the rest of us this is a rousing action picture.

Set at the close of the American Civil War confederate colonel Ben Trane (Gary Cooper) rides into Mexico looking to earn money as a mercenary in the country's war with the occupying French. He falls into the company of Joe Erin (Burt Lancaster) and his disreputable band of fellow adventurers who accept an offer from the French Emperor Maximilian (George Macready). Their mission is to escort the Countess Marie Duvarre (Denise Darcel) through hostile Juarista territory to the port of Vera Cruz. Under the command of the Marquis Henri de Labordere (Cesar Romero) and unbeknownst to the Americans they are actually transporting $3 million in gold to buy munitions. Trane and Erin uncover the ruse and learn the Countess is planning to steal the money for herself. Intrigue, scheming, and betrayal follow as all factions concoct their own plans to steal it or, in the case of the Marquis, protect it to fulfill its intended purpose.

The screenplay, concocted by Roland Kibbee and James R. Webb based off a story by Borden Chase, is refreshingly well-written with biting dialogue, vivid characters, and some thought-provoking vignettes. Uneasy alliances are constantly formed and broken while ulterior motives consistently run under the surface. The heart of the story is the relationship between Ben Trane and Joe Erin; two soldiers of fortune with divergent moral codes who dip into each other's pools to achieve their respective ends. Trane passes himself off as someone only interested in money when in truth he is a pillar of virtue aiming to secure funds for altruistic purposes. Meanwhile the perpetually grinning Erin is morally bankrupt and capable of any evil deed while hiding behind a roguish facade. Their relationship is established early on when Erin swindles Trane out of $100 but Trane ultimately turns the tables on him to retrieve his money. The pair develop a mutual respect and affection over the course of the film as they continually attempt to one up each other. The narrative threads of the "soft spot" and Erin's Ace Hannah origin story are cleverly woven through plot fabric as Erin probes for weaknesses in his new friend while Trane's money-grubbing masquerade slowly erodes to reveal his noble side over the course of 93 minutes. Ultimately their respective principles are irreconcilable and lead to the inevitable climactic confrontation.

On a social level there is clear shift in tone from the 1930s and 40s with the portrayal of the various ethnic groups that will likely be appreciated today although still a bit crude. The "white guys" in the film - everyone but Trane - are depicted as bloodthirsty, immoral miscreants who are at home murdering and raping regardless of how they outwardly present themselves. The Americans are particularly feral as they continually look for ways to eliminate Trane while being terrified of the psychotic Erin who keeps them in line. The one honorable member of the group is the African American ex-Union soldier Ballard (Archie Savage) who is the other person no one will mess with. Meanwhile the narrative occasionally presents them in a comical light as they enjoy mixing it up amongst themselves in a playful way that is a jarring contrast to their usual antics. On the other hand the Mexicans are portrayed as honorable, trustworthy, and noble as they strive to rid themselves of the French invaders.

Director Robert Aldrich crafts a gorgeous film full of stunning topography, endless gunfire, interesting camera angles, and bloodless violence galore. The film was shot exclusively in Mexico with Ernest Laszlo's opulent cinematography and epic scope demanding a 4K remastering. Meanwhile Aldrich seems to be laying the groundwork for Sergio Leone and others in the future "spaghetti western" genre with his abundant application of low angle shots and tight closeups to say nothing of the incessant shootings. One particularly striking shot occurs when the Americans find themselves encircled by Juaristas and the camera rotates behind Joe Erin's black hat as he turns nearly 360 degrees to observe the predicament. Aldrich gives the journey from the French stronghold to Vera Cruz plenty of tension not only by the suspicious musings of the characters but by depicting the Juaristas as always hiding nearby and watching every move. The director emphasizes the superhuman gun skills of Trane and Erin as their unerring marksmanship mows down adversaries and inanimate targets. The climactic assault on the French garrison at Vera Cruz is masterfully handled as the majority of the cast meets their respective fates. All of this is spurred along by a grand Hugo Friedhofer score that is equally adept at providing thoughtful tunes as punctuating the thunderous action.

Vera Cruz is an appropriate star vehicle for cinema giants Gary Cooper and Burt Lancaster whose onscreen rivalry was fueled by their offscreen competitiveness. Akin to their celluloid characterizations they were equally cutthroat behind the camera: Lancaster a whirling dervish of energy and Cooper a relaxed entity of underperformance. This proves to be a dynamic combination as they perfectly complement each other. Cooper is rock solid and while he might appear unbearably laconic to the casual viewer there is always something going on behind his eyes. He frequently seems conflicted by his actions and ultimately realizes a cause is more important than a financial score. His character develops an undeniable affection for Joe Erin despite their differences and likely recognizes the big kid under the homicidal facade. This bubbles to the surface at the climax when he is sadly resigned to the realization he must put Erin down and clearly angry about it in the aftermath. Lancaster provided a lifetime's worth of fodder for impressionists (Frank Gorshin in particular) with his electric turn as Joe Erin. His teeth deserved an academy award nomination as they are a character unto themselves while Burt grins his way through an endearing performance. I've never been too impressed with Lancaster when he attempted to "act" in highbrow projects but in this type of action film he is unparalleled with his endless energy, vitality, and charisma. It's a credit to Cooper's own gigantic celluloid presence that he wasn't wiped off the screen by Lancaster's powerhouse portrayal.

The supporting cast is equally phenomenal and peppered with familiar faces. Cesar Romero gives Burt Lancaster a run for his money in the pearly whites department as he flashes his "crocodile smile" throughout and cuts a dashing figure as the loyal subject of the Emperor. Smooth as silk. Denise Darcel is indelible as the conniving Countess who is Joe Erin's equal in the selfish sweepstakes while convincingly transitioning through a passel of emotions. The gorgeous Sarita Montiel is slippery and beguiling as she works her subversive skills on the men in the cast. Lancaster's band of American mercenaries is rogues gallery of 1950s villains as they compete with each other to be the most unscrupulous. Arguably winning this contest is Charles Bronson, billed as Buchinsky, who is almost as eager to kill people as rape Ms. Montiel. Interestingly, in a bit of career foreshadowing as the gunslinging Harmonica in Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West, Bronson enjoys playing the instrument here which gives the character some depth. Genre thug Ernest Borgnine is menacing as ever while Jack Elam (another Once Upon a Time alumnus) lends his distinctive personage to the film. The aforementioned Archie Savage cuts an imposing figure as the noble Ballard who saves Ms. Montiel from a horrible fate at one point by beating the snot out of Bronson. As Cesar Romero's chief aid Henry Brandon makes a formidable opponent for Lancaster and is certainly a hissable villain. Providing the moral core of the film is Morris Ankrum as the dedicated Mexican General Ramirez who is quite brilliant as a pragmatic soldier committed to his cause yet retaining unwavering integrity. Final kudos must go to George Macready as the Emperor Maximilian who effortlessly looks the part and is wonderfully charming in his one scene.

If one is looking for a vigorous action classic from the 1950s they don't fit the bill more snuggly than Vera Cruz. The magnificent cast alone makes it a must-see but when combined with the spectacular location cinematography, memorable musical score, and taut direction it ascends to "can't miss" status. Certainly fans of Gary Cooper and Burt Lancaster will thoroughly enjoy this as their heroes are in top form.

Buchanan Rides Alone (1958)

"Don't just stand there Amos. Get a shovel!"

[6/10 · 24 April 2024]

Arguably the least of the "Ranown" westerns (directed by Budd Boetticher, coproduced by Harry Joe Brown & Randolph Scott, and starring Scott) Buchanan Rides Alone eschews the thought-provoking adult premises of the other films and is satisfied being a standard potboiler devoid of deeper implications. All were shot on a modest budget but this one really looks it with a handful of drab sets and unremarkable outdoor locations. Other than Scott the cast is nondescript and the 79 minute runtime contains an inordinate amount of talking, an overly complicated narrative, and token action. However it is competently acted and professionally assembled by Budd Boetticher while existing as a proficient though unspectacular example of his work.

Tom Buchanan (Randolph Scott) rides into the mangy border town of Agry furnished with a pair of bandoliers, a money belt containing $2000, and a disarming smile. He immediately runs afoul of the corrupt local sheriff Lew Agry (Brian Kelley) who conspires to separate the stranger from his loot. Buchanan finds himself in hot water when Lou's wayward nephew Roy (Williams Leslie) gets gunned down by Juan de la Vega (Manuel Rojas) and the sheriff ropes Buchanan into the crime. They are saved from being lynched by Lew's brother Judge Simon Agry (Tol Avery), a man with political ambitions and father of Roy, who prefers to try the men in court and avoid the appearance of lawlessness. Juan is content to face the noose for his deed as Roy did something unspeakable to Juan's sister but Buchanan, pleading his innocence, is acquitted. Lew isn't satisfied with this outcome and, after confiscating Buchanan's money belt and guns, sends the unarmed man out of town accompanied by two goons who are obviously supposed to shoot him when they reach the wilderness. The plot continues to spin with plenty of intrigue including the brotherly squabble over a $50,000 ransom for Juan's life and Buchanan's efforts to retrieve his property and save the boy from the Agry clan.

Based on the novel "The Name's Buchanan" by Jonas Ward the screenplay is credited to Charles Lang but there is debate as to whom actually penned it and much of the dialogue was reportedly ad libbed on set. The fatal flaw is the characterization of Buchanan as a smiling, amiable man who seems content to have situations dictated to him. He consistently needs other people to bail him out of tough spots and displays a knack for placing himself in dire predicaments. Buchanan also exhibits a dubious personal code: he's fine seeing a woman (Jennifer Holden) get smacked, talks himself out of a hanging sentence and walks away Scott (pun intended) free content to let Juan swing, lets Lew rob him, and lies about his intentions during the climactic shootout. These are not the actions one would expect from a Randolph Scott character. Furthermore Buchanan is essentially a tumbleweed blown around by the plot; at the mercy of others and who plays a secondary role in resolving the story.

The crux of the narrative is the chess match between Simon and Lew Agry who are perpetually attempting to outwit one another for the $50,000 ransom. The villains of the piece (Lew, Simon, Roy, and henchman Waldo) - aka the White Guys - are depicted as greedy, crooked and untrustworthy while the Mexicans (Juan, Gomez, and Juan's father) are portrayed as noble and honorable. The brothers display minimal affection towards each other while Simon seems barely moved by the death of his son; instead he exploits the tragedy for financial gain. All are wily to various degrees but are quick to turn cowardly when the tables are turned against them. Agry is definitely a town you'd be wise to either pass through quickly or give a wide berth.

Directed by Budd Boetticher and lensed by the accomplished Lucien Ballard the film has a second hand look with cut-rate interiors and uninteresting location scenery. For example Simon's sprawling hacienda is reduced to a handful of drab sets giving the film a stagebound look. The narrative unfolds in a leisurely fashion with minimal tension or urgency as characters negotiate, connive, and conspire with a minimum of excitement. When events finally come to a head on a border bridge spanning the USA & Mexico and end with bodies littered everywhere it is difficult to feel satisfied as Buchanan's conflicts with Lew and Waldo are never resolved and, once again, he's more or less a bystander for the resolution. Ultimately when compared to Boetticher's other Ranown works this one resonates with a perfunctory feel as if he mailed it in. Ballard sadly falls into this category as well particularly when comparing Buchanan Rides Alone to his phenomenal work in Ride the High Country.

Randolph Scott lays on the charm in the curiously glib role; he rides into town wrapped in a pair of bandoliers for a truly badass entrance but all goes downhill quickly after that. Buchanan lets himself be pushed around, easily disarmed, and mocked on many occasions while cheerfully offering to turn over his guns to the corrupt sheriff at one point. Scott rarely seemed comfortable enacting such loquacious characters and was infinitely better as a taciturn man of action who did what needed to be done. Perhaps he and Boetticher were enamored with the prospect of trying a different approach (kudos for the attempt) but it simply doesn't work. Those expecting Scott to amble into a corrupt town and set things right will be sorely disappointed; he's more Roy Rogers than Clint Eastwood in that regard.

The supporting cast, comprised largely of undistinguished performers, are nonetheless solid. Barry Kelley handles his assignment as the despicable Lew with aplomb making him a most detestable character. Enacting his brother Simon is Tol Avery who is more subtle yet equally devious; Avery displays a tendency to be overly theatrical at times in accordance with his duplicitous character. Peter Whitney provides the yucks as the dim witted third brother Amos who spends much screen time out of breath "running around like a chicken with his head cut off" while playing his brothers off one another. Craig Stevens nabs second billing in the underwritten role of the pragmatic Carbo, Simon's bodyguard/confidant, who looks dangerous and intimidates most of the cast. The script neglects to definitively state his purpose which in turn adds some mystery to the character. Juvenile cast members LQ Jones and Manuel Rojas give the film plenty of heart as the amiable Pecos and the hotheaded yet righteous Juan, respectively.

In sum Buchanan Rides Alone is a curious mixture whose provocative title doesn't justify the activity in the film. The plot is overly complicated and too much time is devoted to its mechanizations at the expense of action. Compared to the other works by genre studs like Budd Boetticher, Lucien Ballard, and Randolph Scott this effort seems tossed off with the intention of making a profit rather than suitably entertaining its audience. Still it goes by quickly and is worth a viewing for fans of the big names involved in the production.

Striking Distance (1993)

"Who's the best cop?"

[7/10 · 19 April 2024]

As a former resident of Pittsburgh and one who loves the city I find myself enamored with Striking Distance. It serves as a wonderful time capsule for that area circa 1992/3 while the movie itself is a heck of a lot of fun. Of course it's basically a grade B action flick with nonexistent character development, a transparent mystery, and a disjointed structure due to a troubled production history. However it goes down easy and does a deft job incorporating much of the iconography of "The Burgh".

In 1991 the Polish Hill Strangler is terrorizing the Steel City. Detective Tom Hardy (Bruce Willis) believes the culprit is a cop; this sentiment is viewed with derision by his fellow officers since Hardy has recently turned in his partner/cousin Jimmy Detillo (Robert Pastorelli) for using excessive force on a detainee. During a high speed chase of a potential suspect Hardy and his father/Captain Vincent (John Mahoney) are involved in a car wreck that leaves Hardy incapacitated, Vincent dead, and the perp in the wind. Things get worse for Hardy when Jimmy commits suicide by jumping off a bridge to avoid prosecution. Flash forward 2 years and a now alcoholic Hardy is working for the Pittsburgh River Rescue when female bodies start turning up in the water. He believes the Polish Hill Strangler is back and targeting women from his past. His Uncle Nick (Dennis Farina), now the police captain, doesn't believe him since they have convicted someone for those earlier killings. Hardy smells a conspiracy, believing the suspect to have been railroaded, and sets out to solve the mystery with his new partner Jo Christman (Sarah Jessica Parker). As the narrative unfolds all is not as it seems . . .

The script by Rowdy Herrington & Martin Kaplan manages to get from plot point to plot point efficiently if not obviously but suffers from cardboard characters (other than Tom Hardy) and a lack of suspects that makes it simple to swiftly deduce the murderer. In a tired trope from the era Hardy is correct about everything while the cops are depicted as dopey meatheads who get everything wrong and frequently clash with the cowboy hero. The film went through a turbulent production process including reshoots to amp up the sex & violence aspects at the expense of telling a smart story. Clearly the choice was made to have a brainless popcorn movie and in that regard it succeeds.

As a director Herrington paints a more provocative canvas and makes the film distinctly Pittsburgh. He stages the obligatory car chase through many neighborhoods including Mt. Washington and downtown that is pretty thrilling as vehicles make impossible turns, crash into each other, and engage in some Bullitt-style bounces down a steep street. Several bridges are incorporated into the story for dramatic effect and there is a sequence staged at Point State Park with another staple of the Burgh shoehorned in: fireworks. Of course the movie spends plenty of time on the Three Rivers with several boat chases and the attempted hijacking of a coal barge for some reason. Herrington employs the song "Lil' Red Riding Hood" by Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs to a creepy effect as it punctuates many of the scenes involving the killer who relishes taunting Hardy with phone calls.

The acting is uniformly fine although nearly everyone is hampered by one dimensional characterizations dictated by the plot and not legitimate human emotions. Bruce Willis delivers his standard wiseguy interpretation of the hero who is always smarter than the other cops, irresistible to women, and prone to outbursts of anguish when things go wrong. In addition we are frequently treated to the comical faces he makes when firing weapons as he is never hesitant to pop off rounds from shotguns, pistols, and even a flare gun. Ironically it has been reported that he was a diva on the set and quite the antithesis of the Everyman Joe his character represents. The rest of the cast suffers in comparison. Sarah Jessica Parker is wasted as the partner/love interest and won't convince anyone she knows how to handle firearms; a surprisingly vapid performance. Tom Sizemore hangs around to look guilty and has even less to do which is a shame. Meanwhile Richard Pastorelli is marvelous swinging for the fences in a role that won't be completely spoiled here. Dennis Farina is appropriately thick headed as Hardy's uncle who won't listen to him & appears determined to pin the crimes on an innocent man while Brion James, who seemingly was in every action movie between 1989 & 1993, is equally adversarial and a competent foil for Hardy.

A glossed up B movie Striking Distance is most enjoyable in a "check your brain at the door" way. Those familiar with Pittsburgh are likely to enjoy it as will devotees of Bruce Willis. While breaking no new ground or serving up anything original the film will entertain those with modest expectations.

Bad Day at Black Rock (1955)

"This guy is like a carrier of smallpox. Ever since he's arrived this town has a fever; an infection. And it's spreading."

[10/10 · 14 March 2024]

A tightly bound cinematic package unwrapped in a brisk 81 minutes Bad Day at Black Rock is, quite simply, a terrific film. Directed by John Sturges and lensed in CinemaScope the movie looks spectacular, delivers superior melodrama set soon after World War II, and boasts a marvelous cast headlined by Spencer Tracy and Robert Ryan. It also touches on such topics as the plight of disabled soldiers returning from war, xenophobia, and the willingness to do anything to survive.

After an energetic opening credits sequence where the viewer is assaulted by a careening passenger train knifing through the desert set to the frenetic strains of Andre Previn's pulsating score the film settles down to unfurl the story. The locomotive stops at the ramshackle-looking town of Black Rock and one man disembarks: John J. MacReedy (Tracy). The townsfolk regard him with great trepidation as this is the first time the train has stopped there in 4 years. MacReedy ambles to the hotel and encounters much resistance getting civil answers to even the simplest of questions and begins to ponder why the locals are leery of him. Inquiries to the location of Adobe Flat and a farmer named Komoko in particular make people inordinately twitchy; it becomes apparent they are hiding a secret and all answer to rancher Reno Smith (Ryan). In attempting to mollify MacReedy's suspicions Smith only succeeds in arousing the stranger's curiosity. Soon MacReedy realizes he is in a perilous situation and his life is in jeopardy . . .

Bad Day at Black Rock was written by Millard Kaufman based on a story by Howard Breslin. The tale unfolds in a very deliberate manner as if peeling back the layers of an onion; every revelation begets a new question until the halfway point when the focus shifts from what is going on to if MacReedy can escape with his life. The initial 40 minutes is a superb detective yarn as MacReedy pokes around innocently enough while the rest of the town becomes increasingly nervous when they can't figure out his game and inquiries to a Los Angeles private detective about the visitor's history reveal absolutely nothing. The second half of the movie becomes tense as MacReedy deduces something terrible has happened (although he isn't sure what) and Smith blocks every attempt by him to either summon help or leave town. Since we know the next train won't arrive until the following morning the question becomes how will MacReedy survive the night? Overall a masterclass in intelligent scriptwriting.

It is up to John Sturges to translate the script into a compelling visual story which he brilliantly accomplishes. Director of Photography William C. Mellor captures the spectacular desert landscape in magnificent widescreen style and vividly translates the isolation and inescapability of the tiny town. Sturges does an excellent job staging every scene for maximum impact, symbolism, and foreshadowing. Upon his arrival the inhabitants stare at MacReedy as if he was an otherworldly being and are always hovering nearby endeavoring to decipher what he is up to. The introduction of Reno Smith involves him driving up alongside MacReedy with a dead deer, bullet wound clearly visible, tethered over the hood of his car which foreshadows the stranger's potential future. When the townsfolk meet up to discuss their options Sturges cleverly stages this scene at the railroad crossing to illustrate the juncture they have arrived at. Overall the director expertly turns the screws with each reveal to squeeze maximum tension out of every moment. The only misstep is the overuse of bombastic musical cues to unnecessarily belabor the significance of certain scenes (a trope of 1950s Hollywood melodramas); the film works best when Sturges lets the actors sell the drama without such tricks. Otherwise the score by Andre Previn has a memorable melody.

The cast operates as an ensemble with Spencer Tracy and Robert Ryan taking the lead. Tracy's subtle interpretation of an embittered ex-soldier disillusioned by a paralyzed left arm and plagued by self doubt is brilliant. He operates in a controlled manner and resists the impulse to lose his temper despite the numerous attempts to unhinge him by some of the locals. When he does finally explode the scenes enforce that he is not a man to be underestimated. In a very long and distinguished acting career this performance is one of Spencer Tracy's best. As his chief adversary Robert Ryan is almost as good as he, too, presents an outwardly pleasant demeanor that covers a pathological hatred of the Japanese (a malady many people in 1945 probably shared). He is also masterfully manipulative as he controls his non-too-bright "friends" with devious superior intellect. All the scenes between him and Tracy are riveting particularly the one outside the gas station after Tracy returns from Adobe Flat.

The supporting cast is second to none in terms of talent and it is a tribute to Tracy and Ryan that they fend off all challenges to their thespian greatness. Tracy in particular is most adept at drawing out superior emoting from them simply because he is so good himself; everybody brings their A game to this picture. Ryan's primary enforcers are interpreted by Ernest Borgnine and Lee Marvin who, at the time, were in the menacing phases of their career. Borgnine contributes one of his patented dim-witted, physically imposing thug characterizations which is most effective here. One of the highlights of the film is him finally picking a fight with MacReedy who surprisingly, and easily, demolishes him with judo. Marvin channels his typical intimidating persona with his eyes and icy demeanor that conceals a white hot temper which occasionally boils over. He also employs one of his familiar bits of business: fiddling with the revolver he is carrying. Walter Brennan enacts Doc Velie as a man, by his own admission, consumed by apathy and ultimately moved to assist McReedy in an effort to redeem himself. Along the way he works on the drunken town sheriff Tim Horn, expertly performed by Dean Jagger, who is a lot more difficult to be swayed into action. The two juvenile siblings, Liz and Pete Wirth (Anne Francis and John Ericson), at first glance would appear to be on hand primarily to add sex appeal but both provide compelling turns. Each benefit from strong scenes with Tracy and emerge as tragic figures whose climactic decisions are mainly responsible for wrapping up the story.

In summation Bad Day at Black Rock is superior entertainment and one of the best movies of all involved. There isn't much to nitpick from this tale that is proficiently told and full of mystery, intrigue, and suspense. One will rarely find a more outstanding cast of legendary performers nor more surehanded direction than this fabulous example of 1950s melodrama.

The Curse of the Werewolf (1961)

"I picked it up and tried to kiss it better. I kissed it and I tasted something warm. Must have been the blood. But it tasted sweet. I wanted to keep on tasting it . . . "

[7/10 · 21 October 2023]

Hammer's sole venture into lyncanthropy emerges as a worthy endeavor from a studio famous for its reimaginings of classic Universal horror films. The Curse of the Werewolf deviates from the familiar formula of how to become the title character while the screenplay bites off a bit more than it can chew by providing a heavily plotted, episodic narrative told at whirlwind speed (92 minutes). The film is helmed by genre expert Terence Fisher who is ably assisted by production designer Bernard Robinson, composer Benjamin Frankel, and particularly makeup artist Roy Ashton. An excellent cast of relative unknowns - aside from 22 year old Oliver Reed in his first starring role - delivers uniformly swell performances. Overall this is a grim affair; devoid of levity and laced with inescapable tragedy.

Searching for a handout a beggar (Richard Wordsworth) visits the castle of the vile Marques Siniestro (Anthony Dawson) on his wedding day and after being ridiculed by the nobles finds himself imprisoned in the dungeon. Decades later he has transitioned into a bestial state through endless neglect and rapes a young mute woman (Yvonne Romain) who had been thrown into his cell after offending the now decrepit Siniestro. The beggar drops dead almost immediately and the woman, pregnant from this violation, escapes the castle after murdering Siniestro in retribution. Months later she is discovered floating in a lake by Alfredo (Clifford Evans) and the kindly man takes her home to be cared for by his housekeeper Teresa (Hira Talfrey). The woman gives birth to Leon on Christmas Day and swiftly dies. Unfortunately for the boy he is cursed by a demonic entity due to the circumstances of his conception and endures much misery and terror as he grows into manhood

Written by Anthony Hinds (under the pseudonym John Elder) and based on Guy Endore's novel "The Werewolf of Paris" the narrative is overflowing with events, characters, and plotting. The story takes place over many decades which sounds more suitable for an 8 part Netflix series than a 92 minute feature film. Events careen forward at breakneck speed with little time for character development other than with broad (in some cases very broad) strokes. Interesting side characters like Pepe (Warren Mitchell) and Teresa deserve more attention to say nothing of Alfredo and especially the adult Leon who's romance with Cristina (Catherine Feller) is completely ignored as they go from strangers to desperate lovers in the matter of a scene change. The concept of the werewolf is refreshingly different with a demon entering the physical being of an unwanted child at birth and waging a war with its soul; the only defense against such evil is the love of another person. The tragedy of the host - in this case Leon - is familiar to any devotee of werewolf films as the otherwise innocent victim is doomed to murder until put to death.

The film looks sensational and has all the Hammer iconography one would expect from the studio. Director Terence Fisher was given a freshly built town constructed for an abandoned production and with set design ace Bernard Robinson puts over the Spanish setting despite the entirely British cast. The first 20 minutes are especially difficult to watch with some unsavory developments culminating in the rape of a young woman by the filthy, savage beggar who has watched her grow up from a very young age. Fisher eschews humor for some eerie set pieces and makes the wise decision to save the complete werewolf reveal until the last few minutes of his film. He makes efficient use of shadows, inhuman howling, and the terrified reactions of his players to sell the horror. Amongst the highlights are the baptism scene, little Leon in mid transformation attempting to escape his barred bedroom, and both werewolf metamorphoses where Leon goes into beast mode and savagely murders people; these scenes are particularly ferocious. In addition to Robinson the director receives commendable support from composer Benjamin Frankel and makeup wiz Roy Ashton. Frankel's score maintains Hammer's high batting average with genre music and the absence of James Bernard isn't nearly as acute as it could have been. Ashton absolutely nails it with a superb werewolf creation that allows Reed to be both recognizable and convincingly theriomorphic.

The ensemble acting is top notch. Second billed Oliver Reed doesn't make his appearance until the 48 minute mark which abbreviates the potential scope of his performance. His smoldering good looks and brooding take on the character makes him a tantalizing slab of beefcake for the ladies while his emotional breakdown after discovering what he is and what he has done is gut wrenching. A powerhouse, star-making performance in all. Long necked Catherine Feller, who looks like she could have made a living in vampire films, matches him with an exceptionally touching rendition of Reed's love interest and is equally responsible for putting over the tragic overtones. As the buxom young lady who would adorn much of the promotional material Yvonne Romain is memorable as Leon's tragic mum who suffers some serious trauma before the script forces her off the mortal coil. Clifford Evans provides a steady turn as the sympathetic Alfredo constantly wrestling with his conscience about what to do with his adopted son Leon. Anthony Dawson goes overboard with his evil emoting making the Marques as vile as possible while channeling Basil Rathbone's interpretation of King Louis from If I Were King as a cackling crone in Siniestro's older years. The character of Pepe, a watchman tasked with guarding sheep from predators, had the potential to be a terrific character given more development and Warren Mitchell does a splendid job evoking this possibility. Cast as Leon's buddy Jose is Martin Matthews who provides the only humor in the film and evokes a young Victor Buono vibe in his freewheeling portrayal. Justin Walters, who strongly resembles a young Oliver Reed in portraying the young Leon, delivers a chilling moment when he describes his nightmares and unholy desires to Evans in a particularly unsettling scene. Popping up in glorified cameo roles are Hammer regulars Francis DeWolff as a grumbling cantina patron and Michael Ripper, billed as "Old Soak", who falls victim to the feral Leon in their jail cell. Finally, making a quick appearance as a footman, is the future Q of countless James Bond films Desmond Llewelyn.

As far as tragic lyncanthropy films go The Curse of the Werewolf is a worthy addition to the canon but ultimately falls a tad short of the lofty standards set by the best of Hammer. The main culprits for that would be the overplotted narrative that cannot fully explore all the wonderful possibilities a modern day miniseries would allow, the relentlessly grim atmosphere, and the thoroughly distasteful opening 20 minutes that are necessary but frequently revolting. Director Fisher provides some ferocious werewolf moments that are still scary and coaxes a magnificent performance from Oliver Reed. The film is designed to leave you depressed which it does most successfully and its visceral thrills provide the juice one is likely looking for in a horror film.

The Brides of Dracula (1960)

"At the girlschool . . . Cause my baby broke all the rules!"

[9/10 · 27 September 2023]

The first sequel to Hammer Studio's 1958 classic Horror of Dracula was The Brides of Dracula which arrived in cinemas 2 years later. Taking a page out of Carl Laemmle's Universal playbook the producers unleashed a followup sans the famous title character and, like the older film, still managed to deliver a compelling picture. Terence Fisher returned as director to helm the project and employed many of the talented chaps who made the first movie so memorable: production designer Bernard Robinson, lighting genius Jack Asher, screenwriter Jimmy Sangster, and star Peter Cushing. It is fair to say almost all the returnees deliver the goods; unfortunately Sangster's original script was massacred by multiple writers resulting in a problematic narrative that disintegrates upon close scrutiny. However, this issue is easy to forgive thanks to the gorgeous look of the production, a wonderful score by Malcolm Williamson, and superb performances from a remarkably distinguished cast.

Following an introductory narration confirming Dracula is dead but his disciples live on we are introduced to beautiful Marianne Danielle (Yvonne Monlaur) arriving by coach at a small Transylvania village inn; she is on her way to assume a student teacher position the Lang Academy girls school. The twitchy locals seem eager to have her leave and are terrified by the arrival of their next guest, the Baroness Meinster (Martita Hunt) who invites Marianne to spend the night at her chateau. Marianne accepts and learns the old Baroness keeps her allegedly insane son Baron Meinster (David Peel) locked away in a separate portion of the castle. Turns out he is (surprise!) a vampire that his mum, unable to terminate his existence, has been keeping alive by procuring victims like Marianne. The young lady thwarts these plans by impulsively releasing the charming Meinster who immediately turns on his mother. Terrified Marianne flees the château on foot in the middle of the night and passes out in the forest; fortuitously she is discovered the next day by Dr. Van Helsing (Cushing) who has been summoned by a local priest to help combat suspected vampirism in the area. Van Helsing's timing is impeccable as the hungry Baron is intent on adding Marianne to his bloodsucking harem.

Jimmy Sangster's original screenplay was extensively revised by Peter Bryan and Edward Percy whose surgery created a plethora of logistical problems, inconsistencies within the established vampire mythology, and gaping plot holes. The story gets off to a fascinating start that abounds in mystery as it is clear everyone Marianne encounters harbors secrets. Meanwhile the character of Van Helsing is not introduced until well into the story (the 31 minute mark) much like his delayed entrance in Horror of Dracula. By then we all know what is going on and can enjoy the good Doctor going about his holy business while Marianne lags behind. The writers craft an antagonist completely different from his counterpart in the parent film: Baron Meinster is young, blonde, handsome, loquacious, and clad in grey as opposed to black. He can easily navigate the world of mortals with his charm and the prestige of his title. Meinster's backstory establishes him as an individual predisposed to wild ways while being simultaneously enabled by his mother and coddled by his nanny Greta (Freda Jackson) before being vampirized. In a twist specific to this film he and his brides can transform into bats which directly conflicts with what Van Helsing told us in the prequel (The bat effects are poorly rendered but only mildly detrimental; for those wishing to see how brutal special effects can torpedo a film's suspension of disbelief I submit Scars of Dracula 10 years later). At one point Van Helsing discusses the means by which a vampire can be destroyed that include a stake in the heart and fire; neither of which are used to dispatch Meinster who's climactic demise is rather tepid given these spectacular possibilities.

Perhaps the most amazing aspect of The Brides of Dracula is that while the narrative is littered with plot perforations it remains brilliantly entertaining. Much of the fun derived from the older Universal horror films sourced by Hammer is picking through the illogic of the scripts and this production revels in such gaffes. The character of Marianne is unbelievably dense and naive; she is so moronic that it strains credulity but the plot needs her to be that way so it can move along. Why would she visit Baron Meinster's quarters after being expressly forbidden to do so? Why would the only door accessing his chambers be unlocked? Why would Marianne later consent to marry him days after fleeing from the castle in terror? Was she hypnotized or have selective memory loss? Further questions abound: who was the mysterious man who hopped onto the coach at the beginning? Why didn't Meinster turn into a bat to escape his bondage? What happens to the brides at the finale? Furthermore the script bogs down in spots for several exposition scenes including an overlong comedy bit with the endearing and scene stealing Miles Malleson as a buffoonish local doctor given to hypochondria and wine.

Script deficiencies aside the film looks sensational. Bernard Robinson's sets, particularly Castle Meinster, are wonderful and Jack Asher's lighting genius is on full display making this, arguably, the most gorgeous Hammer horror film in the canon. Propelling the action along is a memorable score by Malcolm Williamson that is heavy on organ music and every bit the equal of James Bernard's best work. The ringmaster of all this splendor is director Terence Fisher who delivers perhaps his greatest film amongst his impressive credentials. Abundant suspense and feelings of dread are omnipotent during the slowly unfurling introductory scenes which hook the viewer from the opening shot and keeps one snagged until the final image. While the gore is significantly toned down (likely due to censorship pressure) the horror scenes are still frightening and linger in the memory; amongst the highlights are the Baron Meinster-Van Helsing confrontations, the "birth" of the village girl (Marie Devereux) from the shallowest grave ever committed to celluloid, Gina's (Andree Melly) seduction by Meinster and subsequent rebirth from a locked coffin, and the particularly moving scene between Van Helsing and the corrupted Baroness Meinster. I must confess I am not enthralled by the method of Baron Meinster's destruction nor the directorial choices in its presentation (mainly no closeups of Meinster in his final seconds) but mine is a minority opinion as most people find this conclusion most satisfactory.

Peter Cushing is in top form as Van Helsing; he recreates the character's dogged determination, fearlessness, and compassion while demonstrating his uncanny athleticism in the more physical moments. He continues to look very chic in several impeccable outfits while having a rougher time dispatching the evil menace. As the lady in distress who needs to be constantly saved from herself beautiful Yvonne Monlaur is appealing despite inhabiting a dopey character. Her thick French accent is occasionally troubling to decipher but she emotes well and is sensational to look at. Martita Hunt is both malevolent and tragic depending on the situation and will likely appeal to any mother who has a wayward son she cannot handle. The aforementioned Miles Malleson occupies the comic relief role of Dr. Tobler; depending on one's tolerance for the actor's shenanigans he can either be considered a breath of fresh air or a roadblock on the path of the narrative thrust. Staking her claim as one of Hammer's most iconic vampiresses is toothy Andree Melly who transforms from doe eyed schoolmarm to wanton bloodsucker most convincingly. Her "birth" scene and subsequent stalking of Marianne is both chilling and borderline erotic.

While Cushing is undoubtedly the bedrock on which the film is built special mention must go to Freda Jackson and David Peel. Ms. Jackson is positively terrifying as the batty Greta who begins by aiding the Baroness in keeping Meinster under house arrest and transitions to raving lunatic when he escapes. The scene of her coaxing the newly vampirized village girl up from her buried coffin is arguably the best scene in the film while her cackling laugh may induce nightmares. Just a brilliant over-the-top, bananas performance. As good as she is David Peel is her equal in the most difficult role particularly when the inevitable comparisons to Christopher Lee's Dracula commence. While inheriting Lee's bloodshot contact lenses and sensuous appetite for beautiful necks the character of Meinster is otherwise his polar opposite. His appearances are likewise limited and he cuts a formidably evil figure when his bloodlust is up. Despite being handicapped by a less intimidating physique than his more famous predecessor Peel still delivers a powerhouse performance and catapults himself into the top echelon of notable Hammer fiends.

In conclusion The Brides of Dracula is one of Hammer's best endeavors. While the absence of the title character might initially appear to be a major stumbling block the film easily clears that hurdle by providing an engaging vampire tale - smartly different from its precursor - with Van Helsing and a new cast keeping viewers engaged. Genre experts Terence Fisher, Bernard Robinson, Jack Asher, and Peter Cushing are in top form and deliver everything one would expect from this type of movie. While there are some flaws - mainly script contrivances - The Brides of Dracula is top notch.

The Most Dangerous Game (1932)

"Kill . . . Then love. When you have known that you have known ecstasy"

[8/10 · 11 September 2023]

Packing a punch within its brief run time is the 1932 precode classic The Most Dangerous Game. Filmed concurrently with King Kong by RKO this picture employs much of the same talent - notably producers Ernest B. Schoedsack & Merian C. Cooper, composer Max Steiner, and actors Fay Wray, Robert Armstrong, & Noble Johnson - while occupying the same jungle set to deliver a tense, fast-moving narrative.

Renowned big game hunter and author Bob Rainsford (Joel McCrea) is the lone survivor of a shipwreck near a tiny island who manages to swim ashore. He finds his way to the forebidding chateau of Count Zaroff (Leslie Banks) and his fellow Russian expatriates. Rainsford is surprised to find a pair of castaways from a previous maritime disaster: Eve Trowbridge (Fay Wray) and her dipsomaniac brother Martin (Robert Armstrong). Zaroff first appears to be a gracious host but eventually reveals himself to be a fellow hunter who claims to have discovered the prey of the title on his island. Rainsford deduces the obvious: Zaroff has been luring ships to their doom on the coral reefs and stalking the survivors through his jungle. The Count intends to add Rainsford to his trophy room when the latter refuses to partner with him.

Adapted from the famous short story by Richard Connell the screenplay by James Ashmore Creelman is a model of efficiency as it establishes Bob Rainsford's character at the outset and even posits the possibility of him exchanging places with the quarry he hunts. What are the odds within 24 hours he'd be put in that position he initially poo poos? Zaroff is a darker version of Rainsford who is completely consumed by his fervor for stalking prey; so much so that he purchases the island to pursue his passion. In addition to the physical contest between the two men they are competing for the hand of Eve whom Zaroff clearly intends to take, forcibly if necessary, when he disposes of Rainsford in the jungle.

The direction is credited to Ernest B. Schoedsack and Irving Pichel who craft an intelligent tale that moves swiftly from the philosophy of hunting to the visceral thrill of the "sport". Once the action starts the tension mounts and doesn't relent until the final shot. The directors are assisted enormously by the lax production code of 1932 which permitted horrific screams from victims of exploding yachts and shark attacks while having Fay Wray's evening gown rapidly disintegrate during her jungle adventures. Add to that images of severed human trophy heads on walls & floating in jars and you can understand why the film disappeared from public view for decades after the Hays Code kicked in. The picture promotes the marvelous jungle set that would become famous in King Kong the next year; fans of that classic will recognize the bog set and the log bridge amongst other things. Prodding the action along is a tremendous film score by Max Steiner at a time when movie music was still in its infancy.

The small cast abounds with familiar faces and competent performances. Joel McCrea cuts a rugged, honorable figure as Rainsford while Fay Wray remains a fetching damsel in distress who deploys her famous scream multiple times. One may ponder why Bruce Cabot wasn't gifted the lead role given all the Kong connections; while less cerebral than McCrea he would certainly have been a more macho presence. Robert Armstrong is particularly annoying as the drunken Martin (a far cry from his iconic Carl Denham in King Kong) who is understandably dispatched by Zaroff around the midpoint for precisely this reason. Having a remarkable streak of being cast in memorable genre films between 1932-3 is Noble Johnson as the fearsome manservant Ivan; the actor famously appears in Murders in the Rue Morgue, The Mummy, King Kong, and Son of Kong in addition to this movie during that stretch. He has a meta moment where he is coaxed to smile by Zaroff and resembles Arnold Schwarzenegger from Terminator 2 in doing so. Fellow Kong alums Steve Clemente and James Flavin show up in small roles. Running away with the acting honors in his celluloid debut is Leslie Banks who has no difficulty overshadowing his costars as the malevolent Count Zaroff. Banks is frequently theatrical and undoubtedly hammy but this is an immensely enjoyable performance from a wonderful thespian.

The Most Dangerous Game is a film most frequently used for inspiration the last 90 years when concocting action premises but few, if any, can match this gem. Plenty of thrills are packed into this 63 minute package that has nary an ounce of fat and should keep anyone entertained for its duration.

Curse of the Demon (1957)

"Some things are more easily started than stopped"

[9/10 · 9 September 2023]

Curse of the Demon is an engrossing, spooky affair that will keep viewers riveted and inspire repeat screenings. The bones of this narrative were exhumed for a dozen X-Files episodes and have influenced countless other pop culture projects. Despite being made in 1957 one can nonetheless find plenty of visceral thrills.

The film opens with Professor Harrington (Maurice Denham) racing to the country estate of Dr. Julian Karswell (Niall MacGinnis) and imploring Karswell to call off whatever horrible thing is about to imminently happen to him. Turns out Harrington was investigating Karswell's devil worshipping cult and planning to denounce him as a fraud in the press. Unfortunately for Harrington the unstoppable wheels have been set in motion for his destruction and Karswell dismisses him with a vague promise to help. Temporarily mollified Harrington drives home and is immediately set upon by the title creature; the terrified Professor backs into a power pole attempting to flee and electrifies himself. The next morning Harrington's colleague and partner in debunking Karswell, John Holden (Dana Andrews), arrives by plane and is told of Harrington's fate. Holden plans to uphold the Professor's stance at an upcoming international convention on parapsychology and dismisses the dead man's research as mere superstition. While following up on Harrington's notes at a library he is approached by Karswell who secretly slips a parchment containing runic symbols into Holden's folder. This marks Holden for death in 4 days time and the dubious professor attempts to put the pieces together before his "time allowed" expires. To this end he is assisted by Harrington's niece Joanna (Peggy Cummins) who believes Karswell is truly a warlock who had her uncle killed by demonic forces.

Curse of the Demon is a deceptively simple film that delivers on all levels. There is much debate as to whether or not it should have been more of a psychological film (as Jacques Tourneur intended) left open to interpretation or a straightforward horror film with a definitive monster. All doubts are laid to rest immediately: demons are real, Karswell has legitimate powers, and his enemies are correct to be afraid of him. The script by Charles Bennett and Hal E. Chester turns the lead character, John Holden, into an obtuse brick which is more of a narrative device than an effective characterization as the audience is spoonfed pertinent information because Holden is so difficult too convince. It strains credulity that a paranormal psychologist would be so dismissive of the field he is supposed to be studying and his endless skepticism begins to grate on the nerves. Meanwhile nearly everyone else in the movie is open to extreme possibilities and it is largely through their efforts that Holden's life is saved.

Director Tourneur constructs a consistently eerie film that takes the audience on an emotional rollercoaster ride. He frequently punctuates tense scenes with jump scares and sudden blasts of music; among the many highlights are the two demon appearances that bookend his film, a ferocious windstorm conjured up by Karswell during a children's party on his vast estate, and Holden getting attacked in Karswell's study by a house cat that apparently morphs into a ferocious leopard. The bombastic score by Clifton Parker frequently goes over the top and needlessly over-accentuates many key moments while providing a memorable cue for the arrival of the demon.

The performances by the thespians are uniformly strong and contribute significantly towards putting over the story. Dana Andrews is infuriatingly dense as Holden which is ironically what the role demands; the actor was never known for his performing range and his George Raft approach accentuates the efforts of his fellow actors. Everyone becomes frustrated by his inflexibility and none more so than Peggy Cummins as his companion who tells him off multiple times. Miss Cummins submits a compelling portrait of a proficient, open-minded person receptive of extreme possibilities determined to prove Karswell killed her uncle through diabolical means. Delivering a vivid rendition of a man terrified of his fate and willing to commit suicide to avoid it is Brian Wilde as Hobart who has only one shattering scene. Dominating the film from an acting standpoint is Niall MacGinnis who provides a fabulous performance as Karswell. This rich character is someone who understands how to access the world of demons, desires to operate in seclusion, and will not tolerate anyone undermining his beliefs. MacGinnis is almost always pleasant and speaks of occult things in a matter-of-fact way knowing full well most people will not believe him. There is a bit of black humor as he bids his victims "goodbye" which harkens back to Bela Lugosi's Paul Carruthers in The Devil Bat (1940). Just a terrific job by the actor.

Curse of the Demon is a superior horror/science fiction/suspense film that easily rises to the top of 1950s offerings. The fact is still packs a punch today speaks to its timelessness and will entertain both current and future generations of filmgoers. Beware of strangers handing you things!

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939)

"I never jest when I play for kingdoms, my Lord of Essex!"

[8/10 · 17 August 2023]

Released in the magical film year of 1939 Warner Brothers' epic love story The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex is a sumptuous motion picture headlined by two of the biggest stars in Hollywood, Errol Flynn and Bette Davis. This handsome movie is an embarrassment of riches as it is firmly directed by Michael Curtiz, features a splendid musical score by the legendary Erich Wolfgang Korngold, and boasts a phenomenal supporting cast led by Olivia de Havilland. Film historians know the production was wrought with difficulties including a feud between the two stars but one would never know it based on the finished product. While the film is undoubtedly a talky affair with endless patter about love and kingdoms it is also a gorgeous movie to look at and is assembled with abundant care.

Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex (Flynn), returns triumphantly from a controversial military victory in Spain that has won the admiration of the English people but the wrath of Queen Elizabeth (Davis). Although it is no secret in court that the two are hopelessly in love with each other Elizabeth publicly reprimands Essex which prompts the younger man to retreat to his ancestral home. Soon a new crisis emerges - the escalating rebellion of Tyrone (Alan Hale) in Ireland - which prompts the Queen to summon Essex back to court. Essex, completely consumed with ambition, cannot refuse and returns. He and Elizabeth are quickly reconciled but jealous factions at court - led by Sir Robert Cecil (Henry Daniell) and Sir Walter Raleigh (Vincent Price) - seek to ruin Essex and bait him into leading a doomed expedition into Ireland. Eventually faith and love are put to the test as court intrigue undermines the trust between Elizabeth and Essex leading to disastrous consequences.

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex was penned by veteran Warners scribes Norman Reilly Raine and Aeneas MacKenzie based off the play Elizabeth the Queen by Maxwell Anderson. The narrative remains basically faithful to the historical facts while inventing a grand love story for the two leading characters intended to be the last word in romantic relationships. In this regard it never conquers the insurmountable problem of why a youthful, vigorous man like Essex would be hopelessly in love with a plain woman twice his age. The obvious answer would be he would be using her to gain power but, as presented in the story, Essex is a man of honor who craves not only romantic affection from the elderly Queen but the throne as well. Unfortunately for him his ambition outweighs his loins. Meanwhile Elizabeth is understandably infatuated with her dashing general but, in the end, values her throne more than any personal attachments. While there are interesting moments of subterfuge generated by her scheming court the film sputters along with Elizabeth and Essex endlessly fighting, reconciling, and perpetually going in circles over their conflicted feelings.

While the screenplay lends itself more to repetition than excitement the overall look is positively regal. Director Michael Curtiz demonstrates his genius for composition and visual splendor with a gorgeous production splendidly captured in Technicolor. The key technicians involved - Director of Photography Sol Polito, Art Director Anton Grot, and Costume Designer Orry-Kelly - contribute standout work that give the film unmatched eye candy. The sets are stunning (particularly the palace) and the actors look magnificent in the exquisite costuming. All of this is topped off by a brilliantly musical score from Erich Wolfgang Korngold that is one of his best. Warner Brothers clearly brought their A game to the picture and it shows in every shot.

The acting battle between stars Errol Flynn and Bette Davis has been historically slanted heavily in Miss Davis' favor and, to be sure, the Queen of Warners delivers a commanding performance as the Queen of England. However, it appears evident that Curtiz either didn't or couldn't reign her in as this has to be one of Bette's most twitchy, histrionic renditions. She is absolutely devouring scenery at every turn and must have provided fodder for mimics and comediennes for decades to come. There are moments where she is subtly moving but generally she tends to go overboard with the dramatics. Meanwhile Flynn is absolutely dynamite as Essex. If you need to illustrate the definition of "movie star" circa 1939 he is the perfect embodiment. It has been fashionable to bash his performance over the years but if anyone comes off badly it is Miss Davis. Errol perfectly embodies the romantic ideal of a charismatic military general who commands fidelity from his troops and adoration from the ladies. As a bonus he paints a vivid portrait of a man consumed by ambition and, against his better judgement, allows this vanity to ruin him. This is one of my favorite Flynn performances; completely natural and overflowing with charisma. Plus he never looked better on the silver screen and is in the peak of physical perfection. Despite their off camera difficulties he and Miss Davis demonstrate terrific chemistry onscreen and carry the narrative above its limitations.

The supporting cast is most distinguished and does a fine job propping up the stars. Olivia de Havilland's turn as Lady Penelope, one of Queen Elizabeth's ladies in waiting and in love with Essex, is a waste of the actress's talents and a punishment role from Jack Warner following her triumph as Melanie Wilkes in Gone With the Wind. Formidable character actor Donald Crisp essays the role of Sir Francis Bacon, a close confidant of Essex and a loyal subject of the Queen, who must straddle a diplomatic line between the two. Crisp is typically brilliant as is Henry Daniell as the treacherous Lord Cecil in a role foreshadowing his turn as Flynn's adversary in The Sea Hawk (1940). Vincent Price is curiously underused and ineffective as Walter Raleigh while Alan Hale has a lively scene as the wily Earl of Tyrone. Henry Stephenson, James Stephenson, and Leo G. Carroll appear as advisors to the Queen and should be familiar to anyone who loves classic movies.

While it might not appeal to everyone The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex is a handsome-looking film containing overwhelming star power and technical excellence. Personally I enjoy fine actors acting out fine dialogue and this picture abounds in that; both Queen Elizabeth and the Earl of Essex are well drawn characters whose motivations and actions are clearly presented. A perfect example of the classic Warner Brothers machine in action.

Scars of Dracula (1970)

"I think not!"

[4/10 · 17 August 2023]

Haunting theaters at the tail end of 1970 was, in my opinion, the worst edition in Hammer Studio's famous vampire series, Scars of Dracula. This film suffers from pedestrian direction by Roy Ward Baker, unnecessary bits of sadism, uninspired performances by the cast, and cheap production values highlighted by some of the phoniest backdrops and laughably inept renderings of bats that one will likely see. While boasting some impressive set pieces, Christopher Lee's iconic personage, and another wonderful score by James Bernard this picture represents a nadir for the studio.

Ignoring events from previous films Scars of Dracula opens with a hilariously phony-looking bat vomiting some blood onto the powdered remains of the title character (Christopher Lee). After being reconstituted for the umpteenth time he puts the title wounds on the daughter of the local innkeeper (Michael Ripper) which prompts the villagers to assemble a Frankenstein mob and assault the Count's castle. The men haphazardly burn the structure after locking the women and children inside the local church and congratulate themselves on a job well done. However, upon returning to their town they discover everyone has been murdered by a team of vampire bats commanded by Dracula. Meanwhile, a few villages away Sarah (Jenny Hanley) is enjoying her birthday party with fiancé Simon (Dennis Waterman) and wondering why his brother Paul (Christopher Matthews) is absent. Turns out Paul is the town Lothario and has lapsed into forgetfulness of time after bedding the Burgomaster's daughter. Soon he is on the run from the authorities after being falsely accused by the young lady of raping her and, after a series of concocted events, winds up at Castle Dracula. Sarah and Simon search for the now missing Paul and find themselves fighting for their lives after being directed to the dreaded citadel.

Veteran Hammer producer and scribe Anthony Hinds, who wrote the previous two Dracula films, contributes a tired mishmash of regurgitated ideas under his seudonym John Elder. He put series continuity to rest and concocted this stand alone tale which is short on story and long on sadism. To be fair he attempted to provide some moments of levity - elements that were sorely lacking in his endlessly grim previous screenplay Taste the Blood of Dracula - but they are completely at odds with the overwhelmingly brutal and gratuitously gory nature of this edition. He filches ideas from four earlier movies and repurposes them to a much weaker effect here; most absurd is Dracula's red powder requiring only a couple drops of bat vomit to reconstitute (including clothing) while in Dracula Prince of Darkness it required an entire human body. Meanwhile this edition of the Count is more of a CEO; using bats and his hirsute assistant Klove (not to be confused with the Klove from DPOD) to do his dirty work rather than venturing forth and terrorizing the community himself. Perhaps the most striking issue is this film could have used any number of villains; Dracula seems shoehorned into the story instead of having the yarn built around him. Still, Hinds did provide some refreshing new ideas mostly cribbed from Bram Stoker's source material such as the Count's ability to commune with animals and providing a secret resting spot for Dracula accessible only to him (could have used that in the initial Dracula film instead of having his crypt be essentially an unlocked garage outside the main building).

Roy Ward Baker truly fumbles the ball in his directorial effort as Scars of Dracula cries out for the sure hand of Terence Fisher. Minimal atmosphere or eroticism is created; the lighthearted bits tend to fall flat and the visuals emphasize gratuitous brutality. Clearly he was hindered by a reduced budget as the trademark Hammer optical splendor is in short supply: sets look cheap and phony, the bats are comically rendered, and the pancake makeup on Christopher Lee looks awful. Furthermore there is an overuse of the color red as nearly everything in the castle from Dracula's powdered remains, drapes, bedding, candles, and wine is adorned with the blood hue. On the plus side Dracula's coffin has never looked spiffier with plush lining (red of course) and a fancy plaque on the front. Among the minimal highlights is Dracula exiting his secret bedroom and climbing up the outside wall to the closest open window and the sleeping vampire's red orbs projecting through his eyelids to unnerve Simon when the latter prepares to stake him. The final destruction of the Count is pretty spectacular but undermined by the obvious use of a stuntman and miniatures. Giving the film a much needed boost is the score by James Bernard that recycles a few themes from his previous works while avoiding the overused three note Dracula cue.

Contributing a comparatively tired turn in his signature role is Christopher Lee who returns to his cold, lord-of-the-manor persona from Horror of Dracula. He can still turn on the animalistic evil when attacking but his more urbane approach is somewhat disappointing. Nonetheless he cuts a commanding figure and provides much of the gravitas this film desperately requires. Jenny Hanley displays abundant cleavage in the undemanding role of Sarah while Dennis Waterman is suitable as the intrepid Simon despite suggestions from the director that he was miscast. Christopher Matthews cuts a rapscallion figure as the perpetually horny Paul; sort of a young Errol Flynn who wanders into the wrong castle. Cast as Klove Patrick Troughton lets his eyebrows do the acting while cutting a perplexing figure as Dracula's manservant; he seems to be willfully helping his evil master yet, in one of the oldest tropes in horror films, shirks his responsibilities when falling for the beautiful Miss Hanley. Other performers of note are Hammer vets Michael Gwynn as the cowardly priest and Michael Ripper, supporting a bizarre set of sideburns, as the rabble rousing innkeeper.

In the final analysis Scars of Dracula is a poor film that is probably the worst of the Christopher Lee Dracula movies. The reduced budget, tired screenplay, uninspired direction, and tepid performances conspire to stake the film. There is certainly entertainment value to be had as it is rarely dull but it lacks the eerie qualities of the better genre films and the unashamedly goofball premise of the later ones; existing in the nether region between legitimate horror film and campy sendup.

The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

"This can never end in anything but evil"

[7/10 · 8 July 2023]

Hammer Studios unleashed its distinctive horror film vision with the 1957 release of The Curse of Frankenstein. Many of the key players who would contribute immeasurably to the genre's iconography were assembled for this initial foray: Director Terence Fisher, screenwriter Jimmy Sangster, cinematographer Jack Asher, production designer Bernard Robinson, composer James Bernard, and stars Peter Cushing & Christopher Lee. Strapped by a tight budget the participants nevertheless turned out a gripping yarn that follows many of the beats from the Universal Studios precursor while establishing Hammer's distinctive milieu: Eastman color, garish blood, cleavage bursting ladies, and sex. The finished product is undeniably impressive and launched a memorable run reconceptualizing the horror film.

Set in the 19th century the film unfurls in flashback with Victor Frankenstein (Cushing) imprisoned and giving a priest the account of what has placed him under the shadow of the guillotine. As a teenager Victor solicits the help of Paul Krempe (Robert Urquhart) to tutor him in the ways of science. Over the years the pair develops a bond in both friendship and academia as they push the boundaries of medicine to the point they can resuscitate a deceased dog. Paul views this achievement as an application to save lives via complicated surgery while Victor has more radical ideas: the creation of a human being through artificial means. Naturally Paul is skeptical but assists Victor up to a point; they diverge when Victor's cousin Elizabeth (Hazel Court) shows up to become Baroness Frankenstein. Paul becomes increasingly disturbed by Victor's monomaniacal dedication towards his goal to the point he only hangs around to protect the naive Elizabeth. The Baron even murders his old teacher Professor Bernstein (Paul Hardmuth) to harvest his genius brain for the monstrosity he is assembling. It unravels when the creature (Lee) is brought to life that threatens them all.

Jimmy Sangster's script doesn't adhere to the source novel any more than the James Whale version did but it changes the focus from the Monster - here called the Creature - to Victor Frankenstein. The Baron in this film is a rich character whose outward politeness belies his monstrous nature; a man who will do literally anything to achieve his dream of creating artificial life. Conversely Paul is pragmatic and the voice of reason throughout while Victor is blinded by his ruthless ambitions. It becomes comical to witness Victor's obliviousness to the horror he is creating while Paul grows increasingly flabbergasted with the man's lunacy. Ultimately Paul is powerless to stop Victor's ruination and even provides the coup de grace at the finale. The duo is morbidly bound together as Victor seems determined to prove himself to Paul while the former tutor is desperate to save his student from absolute destruction. The Creature himself is given little to do other than be a homicidal maniac from the moment he is created; very little of the pathos so essential to Boris Karloff's interpretation is present. He seems to instinctively know Victor is evil - or his damaged brain remembers the crime perpetrated against its former host - and attempts to bump him off at every opportunity. The story concludes with an ironic twist that is actually quite clever and would be an interesting concept to explore in a different reimagining of the classic Mary Shelley tale.

Director Terence Fisher does a masterful job visually while receiving abundant assistance from Director of Photography Jack Asher and Production Designer Bernard Robinson as they defy the shoestring budget. Much of the action takes place in Baron Frankenstein's castle and particularly within his cramped upstairs laboratory. They do not have Kenneth Strickfadden's remarkable electronic machines at their disposal and rely primarily on bubbling containers of colored water, an enormous water tank where the Creature is painstakingly assembled, and a stone crypt of corrosive acid to destroy the evidence. Fisher is adept at presenting sequences of grisly horror mostly through suggestion while averting much of the gore usually associated with Hammer films. Standout moments include the birth of the Creature, his horrifying reveal to the audience, his encounter with an elderly man and his young grandson in the woods where it is strongly implied the Creature murders them, the cruel dispatching of housekeeper Justine (Valerie Gaunt), and the rooftop climax. One showy flourish is the sequence wherein Victor purchases a pair of eyes from the owner of a charnel house; we only see their hands as the Baron negotiates his purchase. This is immediately followed by a shot of Victor examining the eyes through a magnifying glass that makes his own blue orb look enormous. Fisher balances the grisly with a fair amount of eye candy provided by his two leading ladies Hazel Court and Miss Gaunt who strut their cleavage before enduring traumatic encounters with the Creature. The director is further enabled by makeup artist Philip Leakey and composer James Bernard. Leakey is credited with the Creature design and while it isn't on par with the iconic Universal Monster design it is easily the best conception in any of the Hammer Frankenstein films. Meanwhile Bernard contributes an understated, ominous score that perfectly accentuates the gruesome events and is a precursor to more distinguished works down the line. Special mention must also go to stuntman Jock Easton who earned his keep with a pair of impressive falls.

Trussing up the threads of the picture into a secure package is Peter Cushing in one of his archetypal roles. Baron Victor Frankenstein is an absolutely reptilian character who seems laughably oblivious to decent behavior, morality, and basic humanity. He rationalizes everything he does in the pursuit of his experiments and uses every bit of emotional blackmail to keep Paul in the fold and Elizabeth in the dark as to his true intentions. Somehow he finds time to carry on a clandestine affair with his housekeeper Justine (Valerie Gaunt), impregnate her, and cruelly set her up as Creature bait when she threatens to expose him. Cushing makes this vile person believable as he effortlessly switches gears from charming intellectual, ruthless scientist, heartless cad, and despicable coward. He also demonstrates his formidable athleticism as he dashes around the tight corridors of his laboratory while illustrating his uncanny knack for getting convincingly strangled (the first of many). This performance understandably propelled him to genre icon and a long career dedicated to the macabre.

The supporting cast doesn't stand much of a chance against such a tour de force rendition. Robert Urquhart endeavors to present Paul Krempe as a staunch opponent for Victor while ending up on the losing end of their disagreements more often than not; his unwillingness to decisively act results in much tragedy. It's a thankless role as the "voice of reason" in these types of films rarely generates much audience sympathy but Urquhart convincingly puts over the rational perspective. Hazel Court is very attractive and desirable as the eventual Baroness Frankenstein but unfortunately the role of Elizabeth is underwritten and she emerges as a naive dolt. This opens the door for Valerie Gaunt to pilfer the feminine acting honors as the doomed Justine; Miss Gaunt is most sultry as Victor's side chick and we feel her pain when she is dumped. Her demise is cleverly handled as she and her sexy nightgown are locked in a room with an aroused Creature and we are left to imagine what happens to her. Interestingly enough the next time we see the actress she is wearing similar attire as one of Count Dracula's concubines. Cast as young Victor is Melvyn Hayes who bears a remarkable resemblance to the younger Cushing and does an uncanny rendition mimicking him.

Making his first appearance nearly 50 minutes into an 82 minute movie is Christopher Lee as the unfortunate Creature. While Lee doesn't get a broad canvas to work with he gives an impressive physical performance and draws audience sympathy mostly because he endures so much trauma: he is hit over the head by a chair, shot in the face, buried, dug up, given brain surgery, chained to a beam, set on fire, and dissolved in the acid bath. He is positively frightening when he goes on the attack; Fisher never shows him killing anyone and we are left to imagine his vile deeds. Lee would soon eclipse Cushing in the Hammer pecking order and this performance was a strong first step.

The Curse of Frankenstein represents a landmark moment in the history of horror cinema. The film was a runaway success in its day; shocking critics but thrilling audiences with its brutality, implied sex, and color photography. It launched the careers of everyone involved and Hammer would go on to produce more polished products in the coming years before going off the cliff into cheap exploitation.

The Conspirators (1944)

"Long live liberty"

[7/10 · 21 June 2023]

Another chapter in Warner Brothers' World War II propaganda film series, The Conspirators (1944) is a jambalaya of international intrigue, foreboding atmosphere, lackluster writing, and stellar casting. It is frequently derided as a Casablanca knockoff but it more closely emulates director Jean Negulesco's previous work The Mask of Demitrios both in its foggy milieu and abundance of returning cast members. This particular venture emerges more as a triumph of style over substance and is a personal favorite of mine.

Vincent Van Der Lyn (Paul Henreid), aka the Flying Dutchman, is a notorious Dutch resistance fighter passing through neutral Lisbon before making the jump to England. He is taken to underground leader Ricardo Quintanilla (Sydney Greenstreet) by Jan Bernazsky (Peter Lorre) and meets their small band of title characters. Quintanilla wants Vincent to brief agent Jennings (Monte Blue) who is shortly embarking on a dangerous mission behind Nazi lines. Before this happens Jennings is murdered in Vincent's hotel room and the Dutchman is arrested for the crime. Believing himself to have been betrayed by the beautiful Irene (Hedy Lamarr) Vincent stages a daring escape from prison and resolves to get revenge on her. Before successfully completing his mission Vincent must confront Irene, convince his friends he is not a traitor, and destroy the true villain in their midst.

There are many interesting ideas presented in the film but they are hamstrung by a lackluster script credited to Vladimir Pozner and Leo Rosten (additional dialogue by Jack Moffitt). The story bears little resemblance to the source novel written by Frederic Prokosch and features a threadbare, episodic plot with a plethora of characters. Told in flashback by Vincent himself everyone is either following or being followed; spying or being spied on. The melodrama is supposed to be buoyed by an epic love affair between Vincent and Irene that falls flat in every way possible. They meet by accident and Vincent, evidently consumed by passion, spends much of his time impulsively chasing her to the point he bungles his one assignment and finds himself in prison charged with murder. Hard to believe this legendary underground hero would comport himself in such a way. Their romance is further compromised by woeful romantic patter and zero chemistry between the stars. Things finally heat up when he escapes from prison and the third act of the film reinforces the "duty before pleasure" theme that rang more convincingly in Casablanca.

Director Jean Negulesco crafts a visually compelling film with that unmistakable Warner Brothers milieu and, in many ways, trumps the vapid writing. The story moves from the glitz of the Cafe Imperio and Estoril to the seashore fishing village of Cascais, the countryside of Lisbon, the fog shrouded prison, and the clandestine digs of Quintanilla's conspirators. Unfortunately his presentation of the action scenes - Vincent's prison escape and the climactic pursuit of the traitor through the woods - are poorly rendered. The prison escape is particularly ludicrous as Vincent and his cell mate appear to be the only convicts in the place with only one guard on duty in the cell block; it's as bereft of employees as a modern CVS. On the other hand Negulesco crafts several tense dramatic scenes in the third act particularly the kangaroo court of his friends judging Vincent and the activity at the Estoril roulette table when the quisling is flushed out. Supporting all these moments is another wonderful musical score by Max Steiner whose haunting and melancholy orchestrations set the appropriate mood every time.

The unquestioned MVP of the film is the splendid cast that deserved better but manages to transcend most of the shortcomings and propel the narrative. Furnishing the eye candy Hedy Lamarr steps out of the friendly confines of MGM to headline this group as the glamorous Irene. While her acting doesn't set the world on fire she is beautifully photographed and looks luminous in every scene. Despite second billing Paul Henreid essays the lead role as the Flying Dutchman; another resistance legend along the lines of Victor Lazlo in Casablanca. Sadly he doesn't cut such a commanding, inspirational figure here and frankly looks absurd running around in his trench coat blowing up railway stations and Nazis. Henreid does have one great scene where he reveals how he transitioned from schoolteacher to freedom fighter that is arguably the picture's highlight.

The supporting cast is brilliant and chock full of familiar faces from Mask of Dimitrios: Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre, Victor Francen, Eduardo Ciannelli, Steven Geray, and Kurt Katch. Greenstreet is the standout who pontificates in his signature style and sports a rather ostentatious necktie while Lorre is relatively wasted in the undemanding role of Bernazsky. Francen is wonderfully oily as Von Mohr whose allegiance is a major question mark right up until the climax. Making a complete u-turn in his characterization from the mousy Bulic in Mask to the intimidating Nazi Dr. Schmitt and doing a bang up job is Steven Geray who lords over Kurt Katch as his underling Lutzke. Inhabiting the subtly complex role of Police Captain Pereira is Joseph Calleia who must handle both warring factions with diplomacy but is an ally at heart; he delivers an authoritative and crafty performance. Fans of classic cinema will enjoy spotting two significant actors in minor roles: George MacReady in one of his earliest parts as a disgraced Nazi thug and Universal horror icon Edward Van Sloan as Vincent's contact who dispatches him to Lisbon at the start of the film.

The Conspirators was a flop in its day and endured a difficult production history including reported displays of temperament from its stars Paul Henreid and particularly Hedy Lamarr. Personally I adore this film mainly because of the unsurpassed lineup of Warner Brothers character stars who always elevate any project in which they appear. Furthermore there is always something comforting about any of the studio's films evoking a melodramatic, exotic atmosphere emboldened by a wonderful Max Steiner score. While this film might not be for everyone it should do the trick for those who love the Warners ambience as I do.

Adventures of Don Juan (1948)

"There can be no oblivion for you. Where you go life follows . . . "

[8/10 · 21 June 2023]

Adventures of Don Juan is Errol Flynn's final, big budget Hollywood swashbuckler and he goes out with a bang. The film is well directed by Vincent Sherman and features gorgeous Technicolor photography, splendid costumes, a rousing musical score by Max Steiner, and a marvelous supporting cast led by Viveca Lindfors, Robert Douglas, and Alan Hale. Most of all it has Flynn who submits a dynamic star performances as he effortlessly breathes life into the title character. The stories from its chaotic production including tales of self destructive behavior from Errol himself are plentiful and it is a credit to those involved that the finished product is so finely polished.

The dashing Don Juan de Marana (Flynn) spends his days in the pursuit of romance while accompanied by his faithful sidekick Leporello (Alan Hale). After he inadvertently destroys an arranged marriage designed to strengthen ties between England and Spain Juan is summoned back to his homeland in disgrace. Based off his relationship with Spanish ambassador Count de Polan (Robert Warwick) Juan is granted an audience with King Philip III (Romney Brent) to explain himself and in the process earns the affection of Queen Margaret (Lindfors). This is fortuitous timing because unbeknownst to the monarchy the scheming Duke de Lorca (Douglas) is plotting a government overthrow to commence his plans for world conquest. Juan quickly finds himself inveigled in courtroom intrigue and endeavors to thwart de Lorca's schemes.

The script for Adventures of Don Juan gestated for several years and is ultimately credited to George Oppenheimer & Harry Kurnitz based on an original story by Herbert Dalmas. The narrative traverses many conflicting tones; it begins as a sly satire on the swashbuckler film before morphing into more traditional dramatic and action tropes with a brief detour into the realm of medieval torture. While some may find their interest challenged by the dry and talkative middle the dialogue is always crisp and frequently witty. The opening sequences, featuring Don Juan wooing two separate maidens, are delightful and prepare one for a comedic romp until the story settles into familiar plot mechanizations. Through it all a mostly tongue-in-cheek flavor pervades the tale.

Director Vincent Sherman lenses the film with flair and makes the most of the assets provided. The picture looks brilliant in Technicolor with rich hues and appropriate lighting putting over the spectacle. Stock footage from Adventures of Robin Hood and The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex are seamlessly blended into the opening sequences; eagle-eyed viewers can spot Flynn as Essex returning triumphantly from battle which embellishes Don Juan's journey to meet his "bride" in this film. Costumes are gorgeous particularly those adorned by Flynn and Miss Lindfors. The sets are vast and lend the film an epic quality particularly the spectacular staircase where Sherman stages the climactic sword fight between Don Juan and the Duke de Lorca. The fencing sequences are flawlessly edited and the actors are frequently visible doing their own swordplay. It all culminates in the aforementioned final duel that is easily among Flynn's best; probably second only to Robin Hood. Capping off all the visual splendor is the epic musical score by Max Steiner that is a true masterpiece.

The heart and soul of the film is Errol Flynn who delivers a fantastic performance that one could easily assume is autobiographical; who else could have portrayed the legendary lover Don Juan? Errol is clearly getting older and the years of hard living were beginning to catch up with the actor at this time but it's that world weary appearance and demeanor which gives the performance abundant credibility. Flynn radiates so much charm, charisma, and grace while making it look so effortless. Whether sweet talking fair maidens, standing up to a hissable villain, or swashbuckling with his rapier Errol Flynn is truly in his own class; no one before or since could pull off this type of role so majestically. As Don Juan in this film we are witnessing the romantic embodiment of the Flynn Legend.

Supporting the star is a marvelous cast with many familiar faces from his superstar years at Warner Brothers. Alan Hale is superb as the faithful Leporello in the last of thirteen collaborations with Flynn; they are an endearing screen team and this is one of their best pairings. Popping up in essentially cameo roles are Una O'Connor (Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk) and G. P. Huntley Jr ( "Queen's Own" Butler from They Died With Their Boots On) who contribute to the air of nostalgia. Viveca Lindfors lends beauty and dignity to the proceedings as the steadfast Queen Margaret while looking radiant in the exquisite costuming. Serving as a memorable foil to Flynn is Robert Douglas as the vile Duke de Lorca whose voice and demeanor are endlessly menacing. Douglas gives Basil Rathbone a run for his money as the top nemesis of Errol Flynn's celluloid career. Capping the film off is a cameo by Flynn's current wife Nora Eddington as the woman in the coach who derails Juan's plans for a scholarly life following his adventure saving Spain from disaster. While the role screams for a superstar cameo (Ann Sheridan? Alexis Smith?) it is fascinating for Flynn fans to witness Miss Eddington on camera.

Adventures of Don Juan would be a terrific film based on its own merits but it achieves a level of poignancy for devotees of Errol Flynn. Those who are familiar with the star's life understand how the romanticized versions of both the character and Flynn himself are perfectly entertwined. Unfortunately the film was not the success Warner Brothers hoped for and, given the huge production budget and offscreen difficulty with its star, Don Juan's relative failure signaled the end of Errol's A list career. The final scene between Juan and Queen Margaret where he indicates he will likely fade into oblivion while she refutes that possibility is incredibly touching and tear-inducing when one understands the trajectory Flynn's life would take over the next decade until his untimely death in 1959. There will never be another Errol Flynn and we are all fortunate he left us with this final epic star vehicle.

Red Sonja (1985)

In a Word: Silly

[4/10 · 20 February 2023]

I can't imagine how anyone could keep a straight face while filming Red Sonja. Perhaps it's time to give stars Bridgette Nielsen and Arnold Schwarzenegger credit for this rather than bashing their performances . . . Nah, they're both terrible. The film has a plethora of strikes against it: a cheap look, atrocious script, deplorable acting, an annoying kid character (Ernie Reyes Jr.) with way too much screen time, dull fight scenes, and uninspired direction by Richard Fleischer. Even the score by legendary composer Ennio Morricone is pedestrian by his lofty standards. On the other hand there is tremendous camp value, a so-bad-it's-ok vibe, a mercifully brief 89 minute run time, and an impressive athletic performance by Miss Nielsen. She is very adept at swinging that monster sword around and is 100% believable as a fierce warrior; she's just a woeful actress. Furthermore there is something intriguing about this being a female-centric adventure being produced at a time when male testosterone in this genre was going full blast. The women are formidable in the fight scenes; it is hilarious to see men underestimating Sonja and quickly finding out they've made a grave mistake.

The acting in support of Miss Nielsen is brutal across the board but, again, there is a certain camp value in this. One wonders how Arnold felt about doing this film; he was just becoming established as a major action star and this secondary role was obviously going to do nothing positive for his career. He's basically a stooge for Miss Nielsen in a completely superfluous part. Sandahl Bergman is uproariously awful as the villainess while Ronald Lacey wastes his time as her lackey. As the obnoxious Prince Tarn the aforementioned Ernie Reyes is endlessly annoying but he displays some impressive physicality; the same cannot be said for the portly Paul L. Smith in the role of the little squirt's bodyguard.

Red Sonja may appeal to fans of this genre particularly those with a nostalgic affinity for 1980s action films. If you manage your expectations there is some fun to be had but make no mistake: this is a bad film.

Frantic (1988)

In a Word: Dull

[4/10 · 3 February 2023]

On paper the premise of a desperate Harrison Ford barging around France looking for his missing wife must have seemed like a sure thing particularly when helmed by Roman Polanski. Unfortunately this is a dreary 2 hour endurance test that plods along aimlessly with no tension or urgency. If you ever fantasized about Ford screwing around on a Paris rooftop for 10 solid minutes in a sequence ripped from a Pink Panther movie this is for you. As a bonus you get interminable scenes of dull conversations between him and his wife, hotel personnel, laissez faire French cops, useless American Embassy officials, and the most harmless terrorists ever committed to celluloid. The film emerges more as a celebration of Emmanuelle Seigner's impossibly long gams (not surprising since Polanski married the 33 years younger Seigner) than a showcase for Ford. Personally I'm puzzled how anyone who read the script thought this was going to be riveting entertainment.

What Lies Beneath (2000)

In a Word: Underwhelming

[5/10 · 3 February 2023]

Hard to believe a suspenseful ghost story concept starring Harrison Ford, Michelle Pfeiffer, and a giant bathtub could be so unsatisfying but, alas, it is. There is about 85 minutes worth of plot stretched to a shade over two hours which results in the story taking forever to unfold. It sputters out of the gate with superfluous footage of the star couple escorting their teenage daughter to college and a completely unnecessary subplot about some arguing neighbors with the possibility of one murdering the other. The supernatural angle finally begins to manifest itself after 20 minutes and doesn't take over for another 20. When the big twist is revealed we still have 25 minutes before the credits role; the climax drags on and on (and on) before finishing with the obligatory over-the-top action scene. The film would have been better as a taught, claustrophobic thriller consisting of Ford, Pfeiffer, and the house with no other locations or characters. Some suspense is generated, there are many predictable jump scares, and the movie is buoyed by a tour de force performance from Michelle Pfeiffer. Otherwise . . . Meh.

Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972)

"Dig the music, kids!"

[7/10 · 15 January 2023]

When critiquing Hammer Studio's Dracula series through a traditional prism there is an overall progressive deterioration in quality from its initial 1958 offering down through its final official entry in 1973. The culprit of this degradation is the decision to make the films more exploitative - i.e. More blood, deeper cleavage, sex, and nudity. The showcase film that represents this process is Dracula A. D. 1972: applying the same metrics with which to grade Horror of Dracula this is a comparative dumpster fire but somehow the studio concocted the perfect mixture and unleashed a howlingly funny camp masterpiece. Sensing the franchise had gone stale (and it had) they came up with the inspired idea of transporting the character to contemporary (1972) Chelsea. The time of flower power, free love, psychedelic drugs, rock n roll, spectacularly dated mod outfits, and 25 year olds portraying teenagers is captured in all its farcical glory. The reunion of genre icons Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee in a Dracula film for the first time in 14 years gives this movie some credibility and it's truly amazing how they manage to maintain their dignity here. Indeed, this particular edition seems to be lampooning it's predecessors and on that level it is a bloody good show.

The film begins in 1872 and wastes little time cutting to the chase (literally): Lawrence Van Helsing (Cushing) and Count Dracula (Lee) battle atop a horse drawn coach careening through the countryside. Their confrontation ends with the coach wrecked and both participants dead. Arriving on the scene is one of Dracula's apostles (Christopher Neame) who scoops up some vampire ash while copping his master's ring and the stake that destroyed him. The acolyte buries the ash outside the consecrated grounds of a church and plants the stake to mark the spot. Flash forward one hundred years and the church, desanctified and set for demolition, is in the middle of modern day Chelsea surrounded by a wooden fence. Young Johnny Alucard (Neame again) is the ringleader of a teenage group looking for kicks; he proposes they conduct a black mass at the old church. Unbeknownst to the gang he is a descendant of the 1872 disciple who plans to resurrect Dracula. One of the kids is Jessica Van Helsing (Stephanie Beacham), granddaughter of Lorrimer Van Helsing (Cushing again) and direct descendant of Lawrence; as part of the grand scheme Johnny intends to sacrifice her. This goes awry when Jessica refuses to take part in the ceremony and her place is seized by Laura (Caroline Munro). The rest goes according to plan as Laura's chest gets covered in a Dracula/Johnny blood mixture, everyone else freaks out and runs away, and the Count emerges from a swirl of mist to dine on Laura. From this point the narrative wades through layers of plot contrivances as Dracula seeks revenge on both Van Helsings, Johnny wants eternal life, and Lorrimer endeavors to prevent the undead from wreaking havoc on Chelsea.

The screenplay by Don Houghton draws on familiar tropes from the series while breaking no new ground other than setting the story in modern times. This narrative takes place in an alternate universe from the previous 5 films; beginning the story in 1872 allows it to reconvene 100 years to the day which holds some unexplained significance to the regeneration bit the plot hinges on. Dracula's revenge angle had already been staked to death numerous times and the business of a black mass ceremony to revive the Count had been done in Taste the Blood of Dracula. No doubt the filmmakers wanted to exploit the appeal these films had with a juvenile audience and the script is clearly written with this in mind. Of course, this is what makes the film so unintentionally hilarious for modern viewers with the dated outfits and outmoded slang employed by the kids ("fuzz", "bird", "giggle", etc.). There is an understanding that these youngsters are perpetually high on either pot or LSD which makes you wonder how Dracula doesn't get stoned after exsanguinating them (his eyes are already red anyway). The script is also peppered with campy lines like "come in for a bite", "Laura will be there . . . A bit drained but she'll be there", and "I'd sell my soul to get my hands on those."

Clearly not intended to be a straightforward scare film the conflicting tropes of campy humor and gothic horror fail to coalesce which leaves the film disjointed. Stars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee go through their familiar paces and are as serious as a heart attack in their roles. The older characters rarely share any moments with the younger ones which avoids the clash of vernaculars while Lee never abandons the confines of the desanctified church. The script does deem it necessary to establish the rules of vampirism in the film which is a repetitive drag but no one lays down the lore quite like Cushing. The method for vampires to convert humans rather than just murdering them is very vague; people sure get turned quickly when the script demands it. Finally, the mechanizations to bring Dracula back are never explained nor how the plan between he and Johnny devised; these are left to our imaginations. However the film does find it necessary to show Van Helsing drawing a diagram to decipher "Alucard" is "Dracula" spelled backwards as if the viewer could've missed that connection.

While the screenplay contributes its share to the offbeat nature of Dracula A. D. 1972 the true camp gold comes from director Alan Gibson and his mixed bag of visuals. Gibson stages a pretty evocative resurrection scene fueled by some zealous overplaying by Caroline Munro and particularly Christopher Neame who really loses himself in the orgiastic ceremony. The wind howls, dust flies around inside the church, and the ground above the Count's grave undulates as it emits a white vapor. Dracula has only two seduction scenes and neither are handled with any particular flair while the moment he puts the bite on Johnny - fulfilling his request to be turned into a vampire - is discreetly avoided as if to dodge any homosexual implications. Gibson does a nice job of breaking up some potentially dull exposition scenes by intercutting a separate event relative to the overlying conversations. Adding immeasurably to the film is the catchy jazz score by Michael Vickers; it is very modern with a splash of James Bond. While seeming to be an odd choice for a horror film you'll definitely be grooving to the soundtrack many times throughout the picture.

Unfortunately the director fails to deliver compelling action sequences. The opening fight on the runaway coach isn't nearly as thrilling as it could have been and consists mostly of long shots with stuntmen; it ends abruptly with an unconvincing crash. Likewise the final confrontation between Van Helsing and Dracula in the church is equally brief and even more unsatisfying; what makes it memorable is how incredibly clumsy Dracula is. Oddly enough this is a curious trope perpetuated through most of the sequels as the master vampire frequently trips, stumbles, and swan dives off precipices accompanied by a laughable groan. Here he gets killed twice (almost 3 times) and each death gets progressively gorier. However, the best - as in hilariously cheesy - death scene occurs following the confrontation between Van Helsing and Johnny in the latter's posh pad. Van Helsing ambushes him at dawn and fends him off by reflecting rays of morning sunshine with a mirror. From here Johnny manages to demolish himself in a sequence of events that would generate raucous guffaws in a Pink Panther film.

Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee add immeasurably to the movie with their genre gravitas alone although it's a shame their brief screen time together consists mostly of them chasing each other around. Cushing shoulders more of the thespian load and he is typically brilliant; the authority he lends to the character makes him so compelling. Lee has his usual droplet of screen time and this might be his least effective turn as Dracula: he's not particularly menacing, allows himself to be manipulated by Johnny, and turns into a blithering fool when confronted by Van Helsing. Still, Lee cuts a commanding figure with his deep voice, tall stature, and billowing cape. Hammer icon Caroline Munro is sadly underused as the foxy Laura while Philip Miller (as Bob, Jessica's boyfriend) is the only other member of the group to enjoy much screen time.

Dracula A. D. 1972 truly belongs to Stephanie Beacham and especially Christopher Neame. Miss Beacham is the gold standard for buxom Hammer heroines and the outfits she wears - particularly the transparent nightie and low cut white graveyard dress she sports at the finale - are pure Hammer. Her fantastic twin assets also manage to deflect from one of the worst hairstyles you'll ever see. The fact she can overshadow cult favorite Caroline Munro, perhaps the most beloved of all Hammer ladies, is the highest compliment one can attribute to Miss Beacham's turn in this film. More than anyone else Neame seems in tune with the camp spirit and delivers a fabulous scenery-chewing performance. Whether delivering smoldering bedroom eyes at the Stoneground party, over-emoting at the resurrection ceremony, or channeling his inner Jim Carrey during his showdown with Peter Cushing he is positively fantastic throughout.

In summation Dracula A. D. 1972 needs to be viewed with tongue firmly planted in cheek and a "go with the flow" attitude. Certainly Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee are brilliant to watch; they are matched by Christopher Neame's outrageous portrayal and the glorious eye candy furnished by Stephanie Beacham. Right before the end credits the movie promises "Rest in Final Peace"; alas this sadly would not be the case as Dracula would be resurrected one more time in a positively putrid sequel. That sad affair will make one appreciate this goofball effort all the more.

Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970)

"They have destroyed my servant. They will be destroyed!"

[5/10 · 15 January 2023]

The third direct sequel in Hammer's Dracula series Taste the Blood of Dracula is a particularly grim chapter mostly devoid of humor and logic. The main characters are thoroughly unlikable and weakly developed while star Christopher Lee is onscreen for maybe 10 minutes (which is a pattern in these films). Combine the above drawbacks with an unsatisfactory climax and you have a finished product that, while it boasts some highlights, suffers in comparison with its predecessors.

Curio dealer Weller (Rory Kinnear) is tossed out of a moving carriage rumbling through the forest surrounding Castle Dracula. He follows some unholy screams and comes upon Dracula himself (Lee) impaled upon a large cross and painfully expiring into a puddle of red goo. Weller decides it's a good business decision to confiscate Dracula's cape, clasp, ring, and a vial of his powdered blood as a potential financial investment. Turns out he made a smart move when he is approached by 4 men in his London shop who want to buy these things for some nefarious purpose. They are the wicked Lord Courtley (Ralph Bates) and three outwardly upright middle aged men looking for kicks: Hargood (Geoffrey Keen), Paxton (Peter Sallis), and Secker (John Carson). The destitute Courtley needs the trio to purchase the items so he can perform some devilish ritual involving the mixing of his blood with Dracula's powdered plasma and drinking the concoction. While performing the ceremony in an abandoned church the three sidekicks wimp out at the climactic moment but Courtley smugly ingests the stuff before convulsing in agony. Ignoring his pleas for help Hargood, Paxton, and Secker beat the heck out of him for some reason until he stops moving. They flee the scene assuming him to be dead but a bit later his body transmogrifies into that of Count Dracula who swears revenge against those he deems responsible for Courtley's death.

The screenplay written by Anthony Hinds (billed as John Elder) is full of holes, illogic, and half baked ideas. The mechanizations to bring Dracula back to life, as presented onscreen, are ill defined as we have no idea what Courtley hopes to accomplish by drinking blood or what ritual he is following. We would assume he wants to bring Dracula back from the dead somehow which seems like an unbelievably reckless thing to do. Shedding light on this plot point is the knowledge that, in its original form, the script intended to turn Lord Courtley into a vampire and have him stalk Hargood, Paxton, and Secker in retaliation for abandoning him during the ceremony. Christopher Lee's participation in the film came about at the last minute as Hammer was content to move on from the actor who was forever grumbling about the role and his salary. As a result of shoehorning Lee/Dracula into the story this metamorphosis from Courtley into the Count doesn't make much sense and his desire for revenge doesn't scan, either, as Courtley would undoubtedly have been sacrificed anyway. Oh, well. The paying customers and cinema fanatics like myself would prefer Christopher Lee putting the bite on people anyway.

The four people who resurrect the title character are very broadly sketched and would have benefited from more character development. Lord Courtley in particular would seem to be an interesting character on paper: we are told he's supposed to be amoral but other than his ill advised vampire-raising scheme all we know for sure is he's brash, intolerant, and arrogant. The middle aged trio are each defined by a specific trait: Paxton is the most humane, Secker is pragmatic, and Hargood is a miserable ass. Their children, in a fabulous stroke of narrative convenience, are all connected: Alice Hargood (Linda Hayden) is in love with Paul Paxton (Anthony Corlan) while Alice Paxton (Isla Blair) is engaged to Jeremy Secker (Martin Jarvis). The foursome is inseparable; in a film wishing to commit more patricide than a Star Wars Trilogy this makes things most opportune for Dracula to enact his revenge on his three enemies through their offspring.

The real problems come when the action starts halfway through the picture. The script plays fast and loose with vampire lore as Alice is hypnotized into committing horrible deeds but never vampirized while Lucy is turned pretty quickly with one bite and then killed by Dracula the same way but with a more aggressive bite. Before that happens vampire Lucy turns her fiancée from girl lust to bloodlust in 30 seconds so he can gut his father with a dagger. There is one particularly bizarre sequence at the abandoned church where, apparently, day turns to night and back to day again like an Alaskan spring so that: 1. Secker and Paxton can find Lucy's immobile corpse in her coffin 2. Paxton can flip out and shoot Secker who staggers outside in daylight before succumbing to unconsciousness 3. Darkness immediately falls so Lucy, Dracula, and Alice can spring to life and kill Paxton, and . . .

4. Secker can wake up in daylight, walk back into the church, and find everyone gone.

The ending of the film, where Paul revives the church with two crucifixes and a couple candles so it can overwhelm Dracula and have him somersault from the rafters onto the alter before disintegrating yet again, is terribly anticlimactic. Perhaps the most bizarre aspect is the character of Alice walking off with her lover Paul at the finale despite having murdered her father and being indirectly responsible for the deaths of 3 other people (albeit under hypnosis). Being able to clinch with Paul at the conclusion is undoubtedly the only reason she wasn't vampirized which robs the film of considerable dramatic weight; the grisly narrative would have been more satisfying had Paul found it necessary to stake her.

Director Peter Sasdy delivers an unrelentingly gruesome film that rarely pauses for anything resembling humor or good vibes. The opening sequence of Weller stomping through the Bavarian Forest and hearing some ungodly screaming is very chilling while the murders of Hargood and Paxton are incredibly brutal and heartless. The moment where Paul spots the dead body of his sister floating in a lake, callously discarded by that fiend Dracula after she had served her purpose, is truly heartbreaking. There is one moment of black humor where the camera focuses on a desiccated corpse lying on the ground beneath its stone coffin that Dracula has repurposed for himself. While the film lacks the brilliant set design and lavish colors of previous entries the abandoned church setting is creepy and definitively gothic; Sasdy uses this location to stage many effective moments. Prodding the film along is another memorable score by James Bernard who recycles his three note Dracula cue from Horror of Dracula and effectively reinforces the visuals with everything else he composed for this film.

The performances by the large cast are uniformly solid and fulfill the limited requirements of the cardboard characters they are entrusted to portray. Christopher Lee is his usual satanic self and dominates the proceedings despite meager dialogue and minimal screen time. Ralph Bates doesn't have much to work with in the disappointingly underwritten role of Lord Courtley and resorts to being an imperious jerk; one wonders how he would have handled his originally intended transition into vampirism. The future Sir Fredrick Gray of a half dozen future James Bond films, Geoffrey Keen, makes Hargood a one-note bastard who is horrible to his daughter and endlessly sullen (likely to make his death at the hands of his child somewhat palatable if not justified). Peter Sallis as Paxton effectively conveys his character's doubts about the wicked life the trio is leading and his hysterical breakdown upon seeing his daughter's vampirized corpse is excruciating. As the third member of the group (Secker) John Carson is appropriately stoic while suffering a tragic fate as well.

As the juvenile members of the cast Linda Hayden as Alice and Anthony Corlan as Paul carry the dramatic weight. Miss Hayden transitions from mousy teenager to corrupt trickster with impressive skill and her performance really hits its stride after she runs into Christopher Lee. The murder of her father by cracking the side of his head with a shovel is shocking and the savage look on her face, devilishly smirking as if she enjoyed doing it, is most unsettling. Corlan spends his latter footage frantically trying to get someone to believe him regarding the unholy things going on and transforms from horny juvenile to master vampire hunter on a dime. While this is a preposterous plot contrivance the actor sells his desperation and transformation quite well. Isla Blair and Martin Jarvis are fine as the doomed lovers who have fewer opportunities to stake their claim as engrossing characters.

Taste the Blood of Dracula is another downward step towards the creative basement that the Hammer Dracula series was staggering towards. The revenge plots were becoming repetitive by this point and while later films compensated for this over-familiarity by amping up the sex, blood, and camp angles Taste is content to be consistently grim. There are plenty of bits that make the movie watchable - the genre gravitas of Christopher Lee being the main one - but the narrative could have used more lighthearted diversions from the unrelenting gruesomeness and plot holes.

Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968)

"Dear God, when shall we be free? When shall we be free of his evil?"

[6/10 · 15 January 2023]

Hammer Studios began its production of annual sequels for their most famous vampire with Dracula Has Risen From the Grave. This is the third entry starring Christopher Lee in his signature role and the first to be helmed by someone other than Terence Fisher. Unfortunately the finished product fabricated by Director Freddie Francis represents a decline from the previous films and propels the series down an artistically disastrous path. While this episode has plenty of assets - Lee, some evocative art direction, a decent script, and another stellar musical score by James Bernard - it also changes some established vampire lore, features dodgy editing continuity, and introduces the revenge plot that would become the staple of future films.

The movie commences with a sequence occurring during the events of the previous film, Dracula Prince of Darkness: the exsanguinated body of a scantily clad local woman is found stuffed inside the town church bell. Fast forward one year from the time Dracula drowned under the ice outside his castle and Monsignor Ernst Muller (Rupert Davies) of Keinenberg arrives at the village to see how they've been getting along. He's stunned to learn everyone avoids the church due to its being touched by the shadow of Castle Dracula and seeks the assistance of the local priest (Ewan Hooper) to perform an exorcism on the late vampire's mountaintop retreat. The reluctant priest agrees but chickens out halfway up the mountain (leaving the Monsignor to go on alone) and becomes terrified when Muller's exorcism begets a terrific lightening storm. Whilst hustling away the priest falls down a hill, cracks his head on some rocks, and passes out right next to Dracula's comatose body preserved under the now cracked sheet of ice. The blood from his head wound revives the vampire who immediately puts the whammy on the priest and enslaves him. Dracula is irate that his front door has been barred by a gigantic crucifix and, instead of simply having the priest remove it, demands to know who put it there. The priests fesses up that the Monsignor is responsible which prompts Dracula to seek revenge on him. When the plot shifts to Keinenberg we are introduced to the Monsignor's household consisting of his sister-in-law Anna (Marion Mathie) and her daughter Maria (Veronica Carlson). Maria is in love with Paul (Barry Andrews) who works at the local cafe where much of the action takes place. The barista Zena (Barbara Ewing) is the first to fall victim to Dracula and attempts to lure Maria into his clutches. This fails through no fault of Zena's but the bloodsucker holds her responsible anyways and kills her. The vile fiend gains access to the Monsignor's house and preys upon Maria with the intentions of turning her into the undead. The Monsignor attempts to foil this plan but is felled by the priest; as he lays dying he gives Paul a crash course in vampire extermination and entrusts him with Maria's fate. All of this leads to a frantic conclusion outside Dracula's cliff side front door.

As written by Anthony Hinds (billed asJohn Elder) the script boasts some solid characterizations. Monsignor Ernst Muller is particularly well-conceived as he is staunchly religious even for a clergyman while the unnamed priest is diametrically opposite resulting in him succumbing to Dracula's evil will for the majority of the film. Despite performing some grisly tasks for his master the priest is clearly conflicted and this emotional turmoil adds great depth to his character. Paul initially appears cocky and smug but as the narrative progresses he displays many admirable traits including honesty, loyalty, and bravery. He is also a bit naive as he constantly involves the corrupted priest in his attempts to protect Maria leading to disastrous consequences. His one quality that initially alienates him from the Monsignor - atheism - serves both as a plot device and a means of developing all three characters. Perhaps the finest contribution from Hinds is having Christopher Lee first appear 18 minutes into the film (instead of the usual midpoint) which affords the actor more screen time and gets him involved that much quicker.

Unfortunately there are several aspects of the script that undermine the story and drop it below the prequels. One of my pet peeves is the indifference towards series continuity regarding Castle Dracula whose locale, accessibility, and appearance changes from film to film. The vampire lore is adjusted (again) in this film; the writers always seem to play fast and loose with the established rules of vampirism to suit the whims of their narrative. Here Dracula casts a reflection in water (which in a vacuum creates a terrifying moment) and after he is staked a prayer must be invoked or he won't die. In the nastiest bit the priest is commanded to destroy Zena's body in the basement furnace of the cafe; wouldn't that have created an unbearable stench the entire town would have noticed? Seems unlikely her body would have been completely destroyed, either. Lastly, it is interesting to consider that if the Monsignor didn't insist on going up to the castle with the skittish priest none of the events in the film would have transpired.

As directed by Freddie Francis Dracula Has Risen From the Grave displays issues with editing and the staging of action. The multiple hikes up the treacherous terrain to Castle Dracula are clumsily depicted as the actors swiftly transition from a forest location to an obvious studio mountain set before magically appearing at the structure's front door. The mechanics behind Dracula's revival are poorly rendered as a stream of blood somehow winds it's way across a stone, up his suddenly opposed cheek, and across his lips as if it had a mind of its own. Dracula then appears standing on land completely dry after soaking in a moat for 12 months. The same trick is more or less repeated when he gets staked and spurts gallons of blood all over the place yet when he pulls the stake out both the hole and blood are magically gone. There is a tense scene where Zena is stalked through the woods by Dracula's carriage and suddenly chased; somehow she manages to elude the galloping horses on foot while they are being whipped into a frenzy by the priest (gotta say I felt pretty bad for said horses who get sadistically beaten by a switch three times during the course of the film). This scene (and others) are marred by some ineptly rendered day-for-night shots that are so bad they are intrusive to the narrative. Finally, the climactic confrontation between Paul and Dracula at the latter's castle is compromised by the Inspector Clouseau-like staging of the vampire's fall off a precipice.

Despite the aforementioned issues Francis does stage some impressive moments. The psychedelic opening credits supported by James Bernard's haunting score sets the ominous tone beautifully and leads into the truly shocking discovery of the girl stuffed inside the church bell. There is a bit of nasty black humor associated with this episode as it appears Dracula commandeers her coffin before embarking on his journey to Keinenberg. The marvelous rooftop set is frequently used to great advantage particularly in the scene where the Monsignor pursues the Count after thwarting his seduction of Maria; the sight of the vampire crashing through the French doors and leaping off the balcony, his cape billowing behind him, is a terrific image. Both scenes of Dracula getting perforated by various objects are horrifying, graphic, and visceral. The entire film is aided immeasurably by Bernard's score which is quite different from his previous Dracula efforts but most evocative and sets a terrific mood.

Enjoying more screen time than usual Christopher Lee delivers another splendid performance as the title blackguard. Lee is more cruel in this rendition particularly with his treatment of Zena whom he brutally smacks across the face at one point. He isn't much nicer to Maria as he forces her to walk barefoot across the thorny woodland terrain before relenting and carrying her up the rocks to his creepy abode. Lee gets some lines this time (not many) and maintains his hypnotic mastery over all. Matching him is Rupert Davies as the Monsignor who delivers a commanding and ultimately sympathetic turn. Barry Andrews offers a winning portrait of Paul who, despite the Harpo Marx hairdo, is most serious about saving Maria. Hammer icon Veronica Carlson fulfills the requirements of a damsel in distress by providing wonderful eye candy although it is a bit shocking that a Monsignor's niece would be bounding over rooftops for midnight trysts. Poor Barbara Ewing has a rough go of it as the flirty Zena and absorbs all kinds of abuse before her cruel demise. Ewan Hooper is superb as the duplicitous priest who has the most complex journey of all the characters and makes his anguish a heart wrenching thing to watch.

In the final analysis Dracula Has Risen From the Grave suffers in comparison with its predecessors but is a step above the films that would follow. The mechanics that bring Dracula back to life are certainly hamfisted but once the story gets moving it does pull the viewer in. The movie boasts plenty of horrific highlights and creates the roadmap for future efforts that would offer diminishing returns. Excellent cast, fantastic score, and some evocative set design all make this chapter in the vampire saga essential viewing for those interested in Hammer horror.

The Mummy (1959)

"There are certain things for which civilization has no answer . . . "

[7/10 · 22 December 2022]

Hammer's third effort to reinvigorate a classic Universal monster arrived in the form of Terence Fisher's 1959 flick The Mummy. The film eschews the classic Boris Karloff version and instead resuscitates plot elements from The Mummy's Hand, Tomb, and Ghost. Once again the British studio defies its limited budget and resources to deliver an entertaining horror yarn albeit one with significant plot holes and a sputtering narrative. Fortunately genre stars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee are on hand to compensate for these weaknesses while an army of creative talent rises to the occasion.

Archeologist Stephen Banning (Felix Aylmer) and his son John (Cushing) discover the Egyptian tomb of the Princess Ananka. Despite a dire warning from Mehemet Bey (George Pastell) Stephen proceeds to break the seal of the crypt. While alone in the vault Stephen unleashes a dreadful scream which prompts his brother Joseph Whemple (Raymond Huntley) to rush to his aid and find him babbling incoherently. Flash forward 3 years to the English town of Engerfield and Stephen, convalescing in a mental institution, suddenly snaps out of his stupor to warn John about a living Mummy named Kharis (Lee) who intends to murder them. Meanwhile Mehemet turns up in town with a certain Scroll of Life and resurrects the mummified remains of Kharis who's coffin recently tumbled into a local swamp. Mehemet directs the Mummy to begin eliminating the defilers of the tomb and a reign of terror commences . . .

The screenplay by veteran horror scribe Jimmy Sangster takes much of its plot, character names, and Mummy backstory from The Mummy's Hand and The Mummy's Tomb; he basically merges those films together to create this one. Sangster also filches the reincarnation angle and boggy demise for Kharis from The Mummy's Ghost and incredibly amalgamates everything into a fairly cohesive story. Unfortunately he only has about 65 minutes worth of material that needs to be stretched to 88 minutes resulting in a staggering narrative that lurches to a halt in spots. Smack in the middle of the picture is a long, detailed - very detailed - depiction of Ananka's burial that stops the plot dead in its tracks. Much information is conveyed and it would seem plenty of the film's precious budget was spent (the costumes, props, and decor are most exquisite to be sure) on this sequence. We do learn the backstory of Kharis and his forbidden love (not to mention the spectacle of Christopher Lee decked out in full Egyptian High Priest garb) but the sequence is a drag on narrative thrust. A bit later we get another flashback detailing exactly what happened to Stephen Banning in the tomb told by a person (John) who wasn't there and couldn't possibly have known the details. Further illogic and plot holes abound: Why would Mehemet leave Kharis in the tomb to be reburied after being revived? What was the point of giving John a broken leg and having him limp through the movie? Where does the green light in the tomb come from? How does Kharis understand English? How exactly does Stephen snap out of his dementia? If the entire burial party transporting Ananka was lost how is there such a detailed legend surrounding her demise? Is John's wife Isobel (Yvonne Furneax) the reincarnation of Ananka or does she simply look exactly like her? Why do brothers Stephen and Joseph have different last names? Why would Mehemet hire such skittish morons to deliver the coffin containing Kharis? These nitpicks will only occur to repeat viewers and are a nice homage to the delightful lunacy from the source material Sangster draws upon. Meanwhile the dialogue is crisp, characters are given distinctive attributes while acting sensibly, and everything transpires for a reason.

The Mummy is competently directed by Terence Fisher who helmed nearly all of the best Hammer horror films. The dialogue scenes are sometimes pretty dry but Fisher attempts to spice them up with the aforementioned flashbacks and he further benefits from a superior troupe of actors mouthing the lines. His forte is clearly with the monster scenes and he stages some absolute classics: Kharis agonizingly extracting himself from the bog, him crashing and smashing his way through any barrier to murder his targets, and the climactic final confrontation back in the swamp. The modest budget conspires to intrude on the realism of his movie as the scenes in Egypt and the swamp location are painfully obvious studio sets. Thankfully Fisher is deft enough in his staging to make these episodes as unobtrusive as possible. Adding immeasurably to the tale are the contributions of his talented film crew; specifically Production Designer Bernard Robinson, Cinematographer Jack Asher, and Composer Franz Reizenstein. In short, the film looks great with Eastmancolor capturing all the hues most effectively. There are some terrific practical effects of the Mummy taking damage from shotgun blasts and getting a harpoon driven through his midsection; these details contribute immeasurably in promoting a degree of gritty realism. The Mummy design credited to Roy Ashton is terrific and easily the best in any Hammer Mummy film while the epic musical score gives the film a grandeur it couldn't have achieved on its own.

Assuming the lead role again is Peter Cushing as the tomb raiding John Banning. The character is very British, stiff upper lip and all that, who conveys the unwavering mindset of doing one's job no matter what the cost or ethical implications. While not on par with his previous turns as Victor Frankenstein and Doctor Van Helsing Cushing is still effective and a rock solid foundation to construct a film on. He also exhibits that distinctive Cushing athleticism by bounding around despite a game leg and once more demonstrating no one could get as energetically strangled as he (and to give the paying customers their money's worth it happens twice in the film!). Arguably surpassing him here is Christopher Lee as the title character who somehow manages to convey pathos and fury with merely his eyes and subtle gestures. His tall frame and spastic movements make him absolutely terrifying in the action scenes and his Mummy is an inevitable engine of doom when he sets his sights on a victim (I'd be pretty angry, too, if I had to stand in a closet for 4,000 years). His Kharis loves to make an entrance as he twists sanitarium window bars, demolishes wooden front doors, and crashes through French doors. Evidently Lee suffered many injuries on set in this physically demanding role but it's well worth it for us.

The supporting cast is top notch and all benefit from superior character writing. George Pastell is tremendous as Mehemet Bey, the architect of the infidel murder plot whose motives are dictated by religious zeal and not pure evil. One can sympathize with his disgust towards archeologists who plunder his country's sacred burial sites while not condoning his methods. The non-Mummy highlight of the picture is the verbal confrontation between him and Cushing where they argue their conflicting belief systems; Pastell is most effective controlling his resentment while Cushing attempts to goad him into a conflict. Yvonne Furneaux is given the short end of the stick in terms of screen time and character development but she is effective while never being reduced to the cleavage-bursting bit of eye candy Hammer ladies would soon devolve into. As the brothers Stephen and Joseph both Felix Aylmer and Raymond Huntley put over their characters' vastly different belief systems (Stephen coldly performs his archeological duties while dismissing any pleas regarding ethics while Joseph is generally concerned for their well being and more specifically with John's freshly broken leg that isn't being properly cared for) while each enjoys a spectacular death scene. Finally, Eddie Byrne shines as Inspector Mulrooney; the stock policeman character who naturally doesn't believe the supernatural theories at first but comes around after doing some sleuthing on his own. One last mention should go to celebrated British character actor Michael Ripper (billed as "Poacher") whom Hammerphiles will certainly recognize from so many of these genre films.

The Mummy is an enjoyable piece of cinema that has earned its label as a classic. While the finished product has its drawbacks and arguably isn't as accomplished as the previous Hammer reimaginings one will likely find it a heck of a lot of fun. I would certainly place it in the Top 5 of anything Hammer produced for the horror genre and a fine representation for fans of screen legends Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee.

The Climax (1944)

"That music is sacred . . . Sacred to the memory of Marcellina. No one must ever sing it again, do you hear? No one!"

[4/10 · 22 December 2022]

The Climax is Universal's followup to their smash financial hit Phantom of the Opera from the previous year. While the film looks handsome in glorious Technicolor it suffers the same fate as Phantom: too much opera and not nearly enough Phantom or in this case Mad Doctor. Boris Karloff returned to Universal after a triumphant 4 year run on Broadway to tackle one of his most maligned roles while ceding much screen time to the juvenile leads Susanna Foster and Turhan Bey. The movie contains some turgid musical numbers, struggles to balance tone, has plot holes you could drive a train through, and is a waste of such sinister talents as Karloff and Gale Sondergaard.

Dr. Friedrich Hohner (Karloff) is the brooding house physician for the Vienna Opera who clandestinely murdered his love, prima donna Marcellina (June Vincent), because her career drove a wedge between them. Flash forward 10 years to when he overhears musical student Angela Klatt (Susanna Foster) singing the signature piece of his beloved - The Magic Voice - near the office of opera director Count Seebruck (Thomas Gomez). Impressed by her singing Seebruck decides to revive the Magic Voice for Angela while Hohner plots to derail her burgeoning career as he deems the music "sacred" to Marcellina's memory. First he hypnotizes her into believing she can't sing and when Angela's boyfriend Franz (Turhan Bey) uncovers this plot Hohner moves to the nuclear option: sever her vocal chords. Will Franz be able to save her?

The script concocted by Curt Siodmak and Lynn Starling adapted by Siodmak from the play by Edward J Locke had its genesis as a sequel to Phantom of the Opera. It evolved into a companion piece by virtue of it being another backstage melodrama filmed in Technicolor and staging its grand musical numbers on the Phantom stage. There are so many things wrong with the story that only the highlights need to be expounded upon. First of all, the character of Dr. Hohner is a dreadful conception; a miserable, selfish old bastard who carries the torch for a woman who despises him and kills her out of petty jealousy. Somehow he pulls off the perfect crime and everyone is fine with believing she mysteriously disappeared. All concerned seem to understand Hohner is not in his right mind yet he continues to be employed by the Opera and somehow lives in a palatial mansion down the street (how much do house physicians earn?). Furthermore his housekeeper is Marcellina's former maid Luise (Gale Sondergaard) of whom it is revealed has spent 10 years secretly sleuthing to prove Hohner killed her. Luise must be the worst detective in history because she never found the upstairs mausoleum containing Marcellina's perfectly preserved remains (How did it get built without her knowing? How did Hohner move the body from the Opera House to this chamber? Did Luise even try to get into the only room who's door is covered by drapes?). The opportunity for mystery and intrigue is presented right off the bat with Opera House doormen discussing the curious disappearance of Marcellina 10 years ago and how it emotionally destroyed Dr. Hohner. The poor guy appears to be haunting the building; skulking around in the middle of the night and apparently mooning over his lost love in her old dressing room. This buildup gets incinerated immediately with a flashback showing Hohner strangling his beloved and extinguishing any possibility of feeling sympathy for him. Lastly, the climax of "The Climax" is particularly ridiculous and lazily executed.

As directed by George Waggner The Climax struggles tremendously to overcome the insurmountable odds presented by the script. With the menace being nowhere near the malevolence promised in the trailers Waggner compensates with sumptuous visuals and more of an emphasis on lighthearted humor thankfully bereft of over-the-top gags. He employs plenty of matte paintings to fill out the Viennese streets and opulent palaces depicted in the picture; it is certainly a treat to see the famous Universal backlot in color. Some of this gets repetitive as the locations are limited but the opera house and Hohner's home are splendidly decorated and filmed (curious how many miles of drapes they employed to adorn the sets). The emphasis on light comedy is pronounced with several effective lines tossed off by cast members including a deadpan Karloff ("There's nothing wrong with his throat"). Some of the jokes are painful (particularly those involving Turhan Bey clapping like an overzealous seal and munching on his program as he is beguiled by Miss Foster's singing prowess) but many are mirthful particularly some quips delivered by a beleaguered Count Seebruck and the bickering between prima donna Jarmila (Jane Farrar) and her baritone Roselli (George Dolenz). Returning from his Academy Award winning efforts on Phantom of the Opera composer Edward Ward delivers a respectable score although decidedly less memorable.

As much as it pains me I have to lambast Boris Karloff for his performance in this film. Much like the great Claude Rains in Phantom Karloff is handicapped by the limitations of the character as conceived. Hohner is just a one-dimensional, miserable ass. Boris never attempts to make this individual sympathetic or even relatable while just going for straight villainy. Unlike nearly everyone who worked with Karloff over a 50 year movie career and regaled interviewers about what a wonderful gentleman he was costar Susanna Foster remembered him as a cold, introverted actor on set. Perhaps that could explain why his performance is so lifeless: he didn't like the role. Speaking of Miss Foster she follows up her Phantom triumph with a similar ingenue part demonstrating her formidable singing skills and winning personality. Cast as her more age-appropriate love interest is the usually compelling Turhan Bey who sadly contributes a dull turn and fails to generate any chemistry with his leading lady. Another alumni from Phantom, Jane Farrar, is back in basically the same role: the bitchy prima donna usurped by Miss Foster. This time Miss Farrar benefits from a lighter touch and her character's haughtiness is played more for laughs particularly when her ego is perforated by Roselli. As enacted by George Dolenz this character is frequently amusing and their combination delivers the desired comic relief. Surprisingly good is the normally oily Thomas Gomez who eschews this personality and submerges himself into a winning character role as the theater impresario. Thoroughly wasted on the other hand is the wonderful Gale Sondergaard in the housekeeper part anyone could have played; it's truly mind-boggling how Universal consistently squandered the talents of their best assets during the 1940's. June Vincent isn't around long enough to make much headway as the doomed Marcellina while Ludwig Stossel contributes another one of his endearing character turns as Turhan Bey's Uncle Carl.

In summation The Climax is a failure that earns its reputation as one of Universal's more vilified films of the early 1940s. It is overlong, dull, and lacking the menace one would expect. Karloff has shouldered much criticism from poison pens dissecting his performance and, given the high standards he set for himself, they are warranted. Certainly this is not anywhere near his best turns but even so he still has his moments. Everyone has a dud in their career and The Climax qualifies as such for all concerned.

Phantom of the Opera (1943)

"Thief! You've stolen my music!"

[6/10 · 22 December 2022]

Universal's 1943 Technicolor extravaganza Phantom of the Opera is more a reimagining of the famous 1925 Lon Chaney film than a remake. The focus here shifts from the title character and emphasizes the opera; to that end it is an Academy Award-winning visual treat with a wonderful score by Edward Ward and a fine showcase for the pipes of Nelson Eddy and newcomer Susanna Foster. Unfortunately it will likely disappoint those hoping for macabre, suspenseful entertainment and it's interpretation of the Phantom is particularly vexing. According to Universal lore Lon Chaney Jr was devastated at being passed over for the title role his father made famous and the casting of the distinguished Claude Rains is a problematic issue.

Erique Claudin (Rains) is a violinist for the Paris Opera House who anonymously donates his entire personal fortune for the tutelage of nubile singer Christine DuBois (Susanna Foster). Claudin is suddenly discharged from the orchestra and, with his revenue stream cut off, attempts to sell a concerto he's written to further finance her education. Through a misunderstanding he believes the publisher Pleyel (Miles Mander) has stolen his work and in a fit of homicidal rage strangles him. Pleyel's assistant tosses a tray of corrosive acid into his face which sends a howling Claudin into the Paris sewers. Now completely unhinged he starts haunting the Opera House and attempts to have Christine supplant prima donna Biancarolli (Jane Farrar). First he drugs Biancarolli's drink causing her to collapse during a performance which catapults Christine to the fore. When Biancarolli threatens to accuse leading baritone Anatole Garron (Nelson Eddy) of attempted murder in this episode the Opera directors are forced to demote Christine back to the chorus. Unperturbed Claudin ups his game and murders Biancarolli causing the Opera House to be closed indefinitely. Unwilling to give in to his demands that Christine take Biancarolli's place Inspector Raoul Daubert (Edgar Barrier) devises a plan to lure the Phantom out. Meanwhile Anatole has his own scheme in mind to trap Claudin and the Opera reopens . . .

The screenplay by Eric Taylor and Samuel Hoffenstein tosses most of Gaston Leroux's famous novel - which the 1925 film followed pretty closely - out the window. Gone is the spookiness of the Paris Opera house, the mysterious title entity whom everyone is wary of, and the tragedy of a man who wishes his ugliness to be redeemed by love. The scenarists maintain some of the trappings of the silent film (the disembodied voice communicating with Christine, the sabotage of the chandelier in the theater, and of course the unmasking of the Phantom) while focusing their efforts on creating a middling melodrama. There is an interesting thread presented at the beginning to give Christine a character arc: if she wants to be a great artist she must chose between her career and the pursuit of romance with either of her two suitors, Raoul or Anatole. Much comedy is attempted as she juggles these men without appearing partial to either while they continually interrupt each other, begin sentences simultaneously, or get stuck in doorways jockeying for her affections. More levity is attempted with the exasperated Opera directors who are continually flummoxed by the Phantom's elusiveness while stage manager Vercheres (Steven Geray) believes the culprit to be an actual ghost. While these forays into levity are harmless enough the script fatally flounders with its depiction of the Phantom. Claudin begins as a middle aged milquetoast who gets dumped on by everyone while carrying some kind of torch for the teenage Christine. Even when Claudin becomes the Phantom he isn't particularly terrifying just a nuisance. Furthermore his infatuation with Christine is never definitively explained; supposedly in the early versions of the script he was her father but his creepy romantic overtures towards her negate this possibility.

As directed by Arthur Lubin the film is gorgeous to look at with Oscar- winning Technicolor cinematography and art direction. The original Phantom stage is reused and the Opera House set is shown off to great advantage. Lubin pulls off some suspenseful and dramatic moments which breaks up the monotony of dull talking scenes between characters that aren't particularly interesting or amusing. The moment where Claudin is doused with acid is particularly effective; he howls like a wounded animal as he struggles to escape from the printing shop. The long sequence where the police hunt the Phantom backstage during a performance is nail-biting and gradually builds to the showstopping chandelier drop. The climactic unmasking of the Phantom, which is the most shocking moment in the Lon Chaney version, unfortunately falls flat here. Personally I was wondering how the diminutive Claudin managed to get that huge piano into his subterranean lair. One consistent bit of excellence is the magnificent, Oscar-nominated musical score by Edward Ward that is rich with memorable motifs and melodies.

Assessing Claude Rains' performance as Erique Claudin/the Phantom is a conundrum. Rains was a fabulous actor, one of the best from this era, and he makes Claudin both sympathetic and ultimately tragic. What undermines his performance as a nemesis is his short stature and lack of physical presence. Never is this more obvious than the sequence where he drags a terrified Christine through the sewers. Susanna Foster is taller than Rains and looks like she could deck him; while Rains is clearly out of his mind he isn't sufficiently frightening enough to the point where Miss Foster couldn't have summoned the will to break away from him. Now, imagine Lon Chaney Jr in this part and the physical intimidation becomes very believable (his potential interpretation of a bananas violinist is another story). Similarly his confrontation with the equally statuesque Jane Farrar requires Rains to be standing at the top of some stairs to appear more threatening. In the end, Rains' Phantom is more to be pitied than feared which really waters down the character. Claude brought his A game to the picture but there's only so much he could do with the role as conceived.

In other parts Susanna Foster is impossibly cute and bubbly as Christine DuBois. Her singing prowess is undeniable while she certainly fulfills her requirements as the soprano all the men are fretting over. Nelson Eddy can sure belt out a song but his acting is pretty wooden and the substantial age gap between he and Miss Foster (42 vs 18) is an insurmountable obstacle. As his rival Edgar Barrier delivers a superior turn with his splendid voice adding authority to his characterization but he, too, is a bit ripe at age 36 to be wooing a teenager. Perhaps it's fitting he and & Eddy end up walking off arm in arm at the finish while Miss Foster embraces her singing career. The most entertaining performance comes from Jane Farrar as the bitchy diva Biancarolli who jealously holds her career above all else in what is likely a pretty accurate portrayal of a Hollywood star fending off challengers for her crown. J. Edward Bromberg, Fritz Feld, and Steven Geray effectively enact the befuddled executives in charge of the Paris Opera who are powerless to upset the Phantom's plans. In the small role of Franz Liszt character actor Fritz Leiber lends a dignified air to this historical individual while Frank Puglia shines as the pragmatic maestro who must lower the boom on an underperforming Claudin while providing wise counsel for Christine at the beginning of the film. Special mention must also go to Miles Mander as the lecherous Pleyel who takes a break from smooching his foxy assistant to become the straw that broke the camel's back in Claudin's world. Just a spot on interpretation of a vile individual who gets what he deserves. Keep an eye out for a young Hume Cronyn bouncing around as a gendarme.

The overall grade for Phantom of the Opera likely will be conceived in the eye of the beholder. Those wishing for a sumptuous singing extravaganza and backstage politics will probably be satisfied while those desiring a more faithful retelling of Leroux's famous novel will undoubtedly emerge disappointed. For some reason Universal decided to focus more on opulence which results in a bait-and-switch scenario as most viewers tuning in will likely be hoping for a story in line with the title. Ultimately this version of Phantom emerges as a swell-looking misfire.

Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1966)

"There'll be no morning for us"

[8/10 · 21 December 2022]

Finally, after 7 long years, Hammer Studios produced the proper follow-up to its 1958 masterpiece Horror of Dracula. Reuniting Director Terence Fisher, writer Jimmy Sangster, set designer Bernard Robinson, composer James Bernard, and star Christopher Lee the film Dracula Prince of Darkness was likely worth the wait for filmgoers at the time and is easily the best of the sequels. It is intelligently written, looks fantastic, and features a superlative cast of thespians. While there are certainly gripes to be had - the slowly unfurling plot and absence of dialogue for the title character being the most popular grievances from critics - this movie is about as good as it gets from the studio.

The plot kicks off with four English travelers - Charles Kent (Francis Matthews), his wife Diane (Suzan Farmer), brother Alan (Charles Tingwell), and his wife Helen (Barbara Shelley) arriving at a tavern in some remote village located in the Carpathian Mountains. They make the acquaintance of Father Shandor (Andrew Keir) who warns them to avoid the castle standing near the village of Carlsbad but won't be more specific as to why. As luck would have it the next day their coach driver unceremoniously drops them off at a crossroads and refuses to go any further with night approaching. The foursome is left stranded when the coachman drives off but soon a driverless carriage shows up and they decide to use it to go to Carlsbad. Once on board they discover the horses have a mind of their own and wisk them to the very castle they were admonished to avoid. The travelers discover the front door open and a dinner table set up to receive them; the coach then thunders off into the night leaving them stranded. Much to the consternation of Helen they decide to spend the night and are soon greeted by Klove (Philip Latham), the sole resident of the castle who explains he is the servant of the deceased Count Dracula who instructed him to always have the structure prepared to receive guests. Later that night after everyone has retired Alan goes to investigate a noise and is lured to a hidden cellar by Klove; the manservant then kills Alan and suspends his body over an enormous stone coffin filled with Dracula's ashes. Klove cuts Alan's throat and the blood flows over the remains to reconstitute the Count (Christopher Lee). Dracula quickly turns Helen into the undead and resolves to victimize Alan and Diane to start a new reign of terror.

The screenplay by Jimmy Sangster is a bit of a slow burn at first with 45 minutes of setup and 45 minutes of vampire action that neatly splits the film into two halves; apparently Sangster was dissatisfied with the result which is why he is billed as "John Sansom" in the credits. The setup is well done as it establishes the characters and promotes a forbidding air of doom resembling the tightening of a noose around the 4 protagonists. How they end up at the castle is a bit contrived but their decisions are logical given the circumstances they find themselves in. Once the horror commences Alan and Diane are discovered on the run and rescued by Father Shandor who takes them to his fortified monastery. Sangster then draws upon some elements from Bram Stoker's novel to propel the action with the monastery standing in for Seward's sanitarium. There is a Renfield character named Ludwig (Thorley Walters) who enables Dracula and Helen to enter the structure and the tale climaxes with another race to Dracula's castle.

Director Terence Fisher once again demonstrates his mastery over macabre material. In particular he makes Castle Dracula come to life with vibrant colors, claustrophobic rooms, and a gorgeous set design by Bernard Robinson. The tension slowly ratchets up as he expertly navigates his camera through the evil place until the blood starts to fly (or drip in this case). The reconstitution of Dracula is expertly handled by special effects wizard Les Bowie involving a disgusting mixture of blood and ash slowly taking on human form as a swirling vapor engulfs it. Additional highlights involve Barbara Shelley in vampire mode. The first is the confrontation with Charles and Diana in Dracula's living room: both vampires toy with their prey as a cat would a mouse; this strains credulity a bit but looking at the sequence in this vein it makes sense. It is only through happenstance that the mortals manage to escape their attackers. The second is the episode where Helen is held captive by the monks and staked. She is feral and frantic; snapping at her captors like a wild animal before they hold her down and Shandor puts the wood to her (I realize how that sounds). The scene gains a level of black humor as Shandor calmly explains to Charles what is about to happen as his sister-in-law Helen desperately tries to murder them all. Absolutely priceless. Everything is accentuated by James Bernard's smashing score that seems to be a revised edition of his House of Dracula work with the three note Dracula cue working overtime to punctuate his evil presence.

There are a few nitpicks to be had regarding series continuity and the staging of the climactic events. The film neatly begins with stock footage of the spectacular destruction of Dracula from the previous movie accompanied by a voiceover from Father Shandor overstating that the Count met his "final and absolute destruction". The castle in Prince of Darkness bears no resemblance to its presentation in the previous film and is laid out to accommodate the events of this story. The inclusion of Klove is interesting because he was nowhere to be found in Horror of Dracula; must have been on holiday during those events and one can imagine his consternation at having to sweep up his boss's ashes upon returning. As for the climax, it seems to be rushed and the method of Dracula's destruction is a tad disappointing; drowning is just not a compelling way for the king of vampires to go out particularly in a film that had been so brilliant up to the climax. It certainly leaves the film wide open for a sequel which may have been the point.

The four travelers and Father Shandor are especially well-written and given the renderings they deserve. Father Shandor is a completely different character than his counterpart Van Helsing and Andrew Keir is wonderful in the role. Shandor is technically a monk but Falstaffian in his ways: outspoken, critical of the superstitious villagers, fond of simple earthly pleasures, and an expert marksman with a rifle. He also has many of the film's best lines. While it would be heresy to suggest the film couldn't have been improved upon by Peter Cushing's inclusion as the most famous vampire hunter Keir is every bit as magnetic and he benefits from a fine conception of the character. As for the travelers Barbara Shelley is the standout performer here as she effortlessly switches gears from a timid, proper religious Victorian woman to a wanton vampiress. It is unfortunate we do not get more scenes of her in the latter state but she makes every one of those moments count. A truly memorable rendition without the blatant cheese associated with future female bloodsuckers in these Hammer films. As her husband Charles Tingwell gives off the impression he's used to dealing with her propensity to be a killjoy and fatally ignores her prudent suggestions that they leave the castle. As his brother Charles, the freewheeling spirit behind the group's misadventure, Francis Matthews seems to be channeling Cary Grant in the first half of the film before gazing on Alan's exsanguinated body stuffed into a trunk turns him into a dedicated man of action. Impossibly cute Suzan Farmer is a perfect match for Matthews and shares his spirit of adventure initially; the poor girl spends the second half of the film in a perpetual state of hysterics that will have the character in therapy for the rest of her life. The foursome has terrific chemistry and are completely believable in their roles.

Christopher Lee is mesmerizing as Count Dracula. While he doesn't appear until the middle of the film and only pops up sporadically afterwards his aura of evil is undeniably palpable. Lee is terrifying; the absence of dialogue isn't noticeable and, to be fair, what would he say anyway? He may be even more dominating here than in the first film and he certainly would never be as frightening again. Most impressively he defies genre tropes by employing two acolytes who are actually adept at their assignments instead of being bungling clowns. Philip Latham mugs up a storm as the perpetually miserable Klove and enjoys a spectacular introduction similar to Christopher Lee in Curse of Frankenstein. He couldn't be more creepy lurking around the shadows of the castle and manipulating the heroes. Cast as Renfield in everything but name Thorley Walters bounces between harmless goofball and treacherous henchmen with aplomb.

In sum Dracula Prince of Darkness is a terrific sequel and in the top handful of offerings churned out by Hammer. It is well written, performed, and directed by accomplished professionals and provides audiences with the last truly impressive Hammer Dracula film. From here it would be all downhill in terms of quality as the genre would descend into cheap exploitation.

The Ape (1940)

"We all have to die sometime"

[6/10 · 21 December 2022]

Boris Karloff strayed into Bela Lugosi territory by headlining a poverty row Monogram "horror" film titled The Ape. While the movie is indisputably bottom drawer material slapped together at breakneck speed (allegedly a week with Karloff working only 4 of those days) it is superior to the dreck foisted upon poor Lugosi by virtue of a decent script co-written by genre icon Curt Siodmak, an impressively competent supporting cast, and a hilarious premise. While it will never appear anywhere near a Top 20 list of top Karloff films it is sure to provide 61 minutes of mindless fun with a good turn by its famous star.

Dr. Bernard Adrian (Karloff) is a reclusive doctor living in the sticks and haunted by the memory of losing his wife and daughter to polio. He feverishly works on a paralysis cure and is devoted to curing his crippled surrogate daughter Frances (Maris Wrixon). Fate intervenes when the mangled body of a circus trainer (I. Stanford Jolley), mauled by a huge escaped gorilla, is brought to the doctor. Realizing human spinal fluid is the final ingredient to his serum Dr. Adrian extracts the man's vital fluid after he dies. Upon receiving a dose Frances begins to show some improvement but Dr. Adrian realizes he needs more human spinal fluid to complete the cure. Fate intervenes again when the escaped ape breaks into his house and Dr. Adrian is forced to kill it. He comes up with the idea of skinning the body and fashioning an ape suit for himself so he can secretly hunt down another human donor. In this guise he kills Mason (Philo McCullough), extracts his spinal fluid, and injects Frances. She improves a bit more but not enough which forces Dr. Adrian to don the ape suit one more time. Unfortunately he is fatally wounded by the ape posse but not before witnessing Frances walk; the young lady is cured but Dr. Adrian succumbs to his wounds.

The premise for this film is standard stuff for the low budget mad scientist genre but the inclusion of the gorilla suit angle is inspired nuttiness. The screenplay is "suggested from the play by Adam Hull Shirk" and cowritten by Curt (billed as Kurt) Siodmak and Richard Carroll; it is a decided improvement on the standard writing found in typical Monogram offerings. The dialogue is frequently sharp and many of the wisecracks land on the button while the character of Dr. Adrian is a sympathetic, dedicated scientist. The two characters he has a hand in killing are shown to be unlikeable and ripe for assassination so as not to damage the Doctor's good-hearted image. Meanwhile the town has an unnecessarily hostile attitude towards the antisocial Doc based out of irrational fear and distrust. This manifests itself in a group of annoying kids who throw rocks at his house and spread lies about him; a particularly rotten lot of little jerks. The one gigantic plot hole is why does Dr. Adrian need to wear an ape suit to commit murder? It sure paints a target on his back as he is shot twice and stabbed; one would suppose if he truly needed to kill someone and stage it as a gorilla attack he could do so in a manner more befitting an intelligent medical professional (of course this wouldn't be nearly as much fun).

Director William Nigh does his best with the material and budget limitations. He is particularly adept at coaxing solid, natural performances out of his cast which gives the film credibility. Another nice touch is the depiction of the ape; while never fooling anyone that it's anything other than an actor in a costume performer Ray Corrigan incorporates many simian mannerisms to add plausibility. Meanwhile when Dr. Adrian is running around in the carcass he moves like a human which is a deft (and logical) contrasting touch. Nigh also stages a wonderful death scene for Karloff that is most poignant. Of course, there are laughable moments when the film's meager budget and swift shooting schedule undermine the realism. Never is this more intrusive than the moment where Dr. Adrian easily murders the enormous gorilla with a single knife stab in the back. The opening credits and stock footage of circus activity are shot full of steroids by the ludicrously over-the-big-top circus music that makes one wonder if we're going to be watching a Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey documentary.

Carrying the film on his back is Boris Karloff as the kindly Dr. Bernard Adrian who will happily knock off the "ornery cusses" in the cast to cure Frances. Decked out in one of his worst makeup jobs - soup saver mustache, mop of gray hair, grey Martin Scorsese eyebrows, and porthole eyeglasses - Karloff is the gorilla glue that holds the film together. Maris Wrixon tugs at the heartstrings as a simple girl who will endure great pain to be able to walk again and refuses to kiss her boyfriend until finally cured. Delivering a surprisingly touching performance is Gene O'Donnell as the aforementioned boyfriend, Danny. O'Donnell gives off a Lloyd Bridges vibe as a young man who loves his girl regardless of her infirmity and can stand toe to toe with Karloff in their scenes together. Uncredited Philo McCullough is impressively rotten as the despicable Mason who won't lift a finger for anyone, is a rabble rouser against Karloff, brazenly runs around town with a younger woman thus humiliating his wife, and suggests his spouse commit suicide when she objects to his philandering. Contributing to the most compelling moment in the film is I. Stanford Jolley as the abusive animal trainer who gets mauled by the title character as retribution for his behavior. His scene with Karloff, struggling to accept the gravity of his injuries and pleading for Boris to save him, is expertly handled by both actors and surprisingly powerful.

In summation The Ape is no masterpiece but it is unusually well made given its budget, shooting schedule, and absurd premise. Those involved take the film seriously (to a point) and endeavor to provide a worthwhile experience for the viewer. Fans of Boris Karloff should be satisfied with his performance in a role representative of his work during this era: the sympathetic medico who strives to better humanity through science but leaves carnage in his wake.

The Creature Walks Among Us (1956)

"The fire burned away the outer scale. There's a structure of human skin underneath it."

[6/10 · 29 October 2022]

The final nail in the coffin of a beloved Universal character is The Creature Walks Among Us; a rather depressing affair that endeavors to transcend its science fiction origins and craft a moral lesson about the human condition. This highbrow approach puts a spear through much of the entertainment value generated by this fascinating character from the previous two movies. While on one hand you must commend the producers for taking this bold approach in an effort to prevent the franchise from drowning the results are ultimately tepid.

Brilliant surgeon Dr. William Barton (Jeff Morrow) organizes an expedition to once again capture the elusive Gill Man who is now hiding out in the Florida Everglades. He is convinced this creature can be sped through the evolutionary process and changed through experimentation into something more human. Barton, who is both fabulously rich and dangerously neurotic when it comes to his gorgeous wife Marsha (Leigh Snowden), assembles a dream team of scientist including Dr. Thomas Morgan (Rex Reason) and rugged adventurer Jed Grant (Gregg Palmer). The group utilizes a sonar device capable of tracking the Gill Man and eventually corners him; the confrontation is particularly ferocious and the Gill Man ends up horribly burned. Back on board they discover he has a latent set of lungs and since his outer layer of skin (including his gills) has been completely burned away they perform a tracheotomy to allow him to breathe. Barton believes he has succeeded in jump starting evolution in regards to the new Lung Man and transports him to his home in Sausalito, CA where he has an enclosure built to house his find. Pretty soon various stressors contribute to aggravate the more docile Lung Man and he embarks on one more fury-filled rampage.

The screenplay for The Creature Walks Among Us was concocted by Arthur A. Ross who plunges into the dark waters of human psychology, evolutionary theory, and paranoia. These elements tend to oversaturate what should be a straightforward science fiction film about a unique creature lost in time. Instead it becomes a dull and depressing affair of snooze-worthy chatter regarding the nature of man which is unfortunate because there are some intriguing building blocks to work with. The story of the Gill/Lung Man turns into a tragedy where, thanks to man's intervention, the creature becomes alienated from his aquatic world and must exist terrestrially where he is unsuited. He learns his true enemy, in this film Dr. Barton, is humankind and exacts primitive justice before heading off to his fate. Barton is an intriguing character; a brilliant surgeon with an overwhelming monomania regarding his wife's imagined infidelities. Marcia is a free spirit and woman of many talents trapped in what she feels is a suffocating marital arrangement with Barton; she is morbidly faithful to him but naturally attracts many potential suitors. As if to torture himself Barton employs hunky Dr. Morgan and testosterone-charged he-man Grant to function in close quarters with Marsha with predictable results. On the surface this seems to be the love triangle - in this case quadrangle - trope established in the previous two films but with more of a disturbing twist.

As directed by John Sherwood, the film contains more spectacular underwater photography including a long vignette where Morgan, Grant, and Marsha are searching for the Gill Man and Marsha suffers the rhapsody of the deep. There is some tension developed in scenes of the crew tracking the sonar blips in their search for the elusive creature; movie buffs will no doubt recognize this trope of the genre in many subsequent films. The nighttime confrontation between the Gill Man and a small group in a dinghy is impressively done with considerable suspense generated. The staging of the Gill/Lung Man's final rampage through Barton's home is particularly destructive with shattered glass flying and furniture being splintered; the sequence is occasionally marred by obvious wire use but it is still satisfying. In his sporadic appearances the Gill Man continues to look impressive; when he transitions to the Lung Man he looks remarkably bigger as he is practically bursting out of his sailcloth suit. On the downside the scenes of the men talking/philosophizing are numerous and interminably dull made bearable only by the sexy outfits worn by the voluptuous Leigh Snowden. The beefcake quotient is ably filled by the frequently shirtless Rex Reason and particularly Gregg Palmer who has a chest like a beer barrel.

The cast is headed by Jeff Morrow as the neurotic Dr. Barton. Morrow plays up the latter aspect as he is frequently twitchy and obviously unhinged; it's hard to imagine him being sane long enough to perform a delicate surgery. In a film called The Creature Walks Among Us no one should be concerned with realism so Morrow's performance is shamelessly entertaining. Enacting his emotional counterpart is Rex Reason as the rational Dr. Morgan who displays an impressive restraint on his hormones around the foxy Marsha and puts the audience to sleep when he drones on about scientific matters. Serving as his feral opposite is Gregg Palmer as the rugged Grant who is quite capable in the field but transforms into a sexual predator around his boss' wife. Palmer is particularly smug and vile as he prowls around Marsha and simply won't take no for an answer; as a result he loses focus on his job and stupidly plays into Barton's growing mania about his wife's fidelity. As the object of everyone's attention Leigh Snowden ably fills the swimsuit of the obligatory eye candy in the Creature Trilogy. She is sympathetic, noble and makes you wonder why she would put up with her deranged husband. Marsha is depicted as a trophy wife who is accomplished in her own right: she can handle a rifle, scuba dive, and play the guitar. Miss Snowden juggles all the aspects of this character splendidly and somehow emerges with her virtue intact.

Ultimately The Creature Walks Among Us winds up as an intellectually ambitious misfire that denies its viewers the abundance of action one would expect. While many of the familiar tropes exist - fabulous underwater shots, blaring music, revealing swimsuits, etc - they represent a much smaller part of the presentation. You have to give the studio credit for their attempt to reinvigorate the franchise with a new approach (particularly after the repetitive Revenge of the Creature) but the execution is lacking and the highfalutin ideas weakly developed. A disappointing sendoff for a beloved character whose fate is determined by the unwanted intervention of people: you mess with the human, you get the scalpel.