The_Secretive_Bus Reviews

Love and Death (1975)

"Do you want the vowels or the consonants?"

[7/10 · 29 June 2007]

A slightly uneven comedy that in hindsight provides the bridge between Allen's "anything goes so long as it's funny" earlier comedies and the relationship based introspective work beginning with the superb Annie Hall, Love and Death is still very enjoyable. It's one of those films that's hugely quote worthy with a high number of wonderful Allen witticisms ("My room at midnight." "Perfect. Will you be there too?") and a few good visual gags peppered here and there. Despite being hugely different stylistically to Annie Hall you can tell that the two scripts have been written by the same man, though the same can't be said about the direction.

The plot is more obviously comedic than the rambling, cerebral style of Allen's relationship comedies, with Allen's character trying to get away from fighting in the wars and later being forced into the position of having to assassinate Napoleon. Despite being arguably more structured than many of Allen's films, it runs out of steam far more quickly. Certainly the more introspective philosophising occurs here only in fits and starts with the script going more for broad comedy and one-liners; this means that the film lacks the more relaxed and "realistic" direction that Allen would tend to use from the next film onwards. There's nothing of the sense of listening to a bunch of people naturally conversing (one thing I adore about some of Allen's films is his ability to make dialogue between characters sound natural, as if he asked the actors to start having a chat and decided to film them), lending "Love and Death" a greater sense of artificiality. The direction rarely rises above that of "generic comedy". This isn't to say that the film is bad of course - it's very funny, and Allen and Keaton are both absolutely superb in their roles, never putting a foot wrong - but it's certainly not Allen at his best (though probably remains more accessible than his best movies). Fortunately, a "quite good" film for Woody Allen is still way better than most other comedies.

It's certainly no Annie Hall or Hannah and Her Sisters, but Love and Death is an amusing 80 minutes of fun with several of the flashes of genius that Woody Allen would display more wholesomely and effectively in future works.

An Inspector Calls (1954)

"What are you waiting for?" "To do my duty..."

[10/10 · 27 June 2007]

A wonderful adaptation of an already very good play that, in my mind, improves upon the original source material. As a morality tale it's fairly thought provoking - though it's slightly irritating that the female character has to spell things out for the audience every few minutes - but it probably works even better as a simple character drama.

A good cast is headed by the always fantastic Alastair Sim as Inspector Poole (the name changed from the original text - in my opinion for the better, controversially), who, though on screen less often than you might think, is like a burning sun around which orbits everything else in the film. The cool, calm yet still devastating Inspector is a part Sim was born to play and I can't imagine another actor bettering it. The Inspector as presented here is more benign than that of the original play, which could have risked making the Inspector seem less interested in the other characters and too detached from them - the Inspector of the film never raises his voice, and some of his more forceful lines are given to the young female role - but Sim is able to maintain a chillingly capable and oppressive demeanour simply by smiling. He almost floats through the proceedings. A truly magnetic performance.

The direction is also to be commended - there are several edits between shots designed to make you jump, and they definitely do the job - and enlivens the material when the film could have been a bit of a slog (though the script is great it's obviously far more difficult to maintain an electrifying atmosphere through film than through the more immediate medium of the theatrical stage). There's little I can say about "An Inspector Calls"; I'd just highly recommend it. Give it a go.

Thunderbirds Are GO (1966)

"Now this is going to be a tough assignment..."

[3/10 · 24 June 2007]

I grew up on Thunderbirds repeats as a kid. The excitement, the explosions, the majestic Barry Gray scores... It was a wonderful programme. Even now I have a great soft spot for it and own the whole series on DVD. Though the episodes now seem quite padded here and there and I watch it with much more cynicism than I did as a child, I still love it. A good episode of Thunderbirds is the perfect nostalgia trip for me.

Sad to say, then, that the Thunderbirds movies retain little of the qualities that made the TV show such great fun. Perhaps it's the script: Gerry and Sylvia Anderson were far better leaving the scripting duties to other writers as they couldn't write decent dialogue for peanuts. They wrote Thunderbirds' debut episode, which has awful expository dialogue and lots of pointless sequences that go nowhere - but the episode as a whole is still a classic due to the frenetic atmosphere, the sense of doom and the fantastically imaginative rescue (it's the episode where the Fireflash plane lands on three little buggies). "Thunderbirds are Go!" is just horrendously boring. The first ten minutes are taken up with the Zero-X ship being assembled. Very slowly. Later on we have a long dream sequence where Alan imagines going out for a date with Lady Penelope, which features Cliff Richard and the gang having a sing-song (a musical segment in a Thunderbirds movie - what were they thinking?!) and the entire subplot of what the Zero-X astronauts get up to on Mars has no bearing on International Rescue at all.

The Tracy brothers get hardly anything to do in their own film (John, as is customary, has about 5 lines of dialogue, and Gordon just sits about looking glum - even everybody's favourite, Virgil, has barely any screen time at all). Nor, in fact, are the Thunderbird craft used all that often. In 100 minutes of film there's only one real rescue (featuring Thunderbird 2), with IR overseeing operations at the beginning of the film - which involves them sitting around and peering contentedly at control panels. You'd think with 100 minutes - double the length of one of the TV episodes - the Andersons could've plotted loads of thrilling situations and rescues that involved all the Tracy brothers and their Thunderbird machines, but it was not to be. Thunderbirds 1 and 3 swoop about for a few seconds. Thunderbird 4 isn't even in it (despite being on the DVD cover). Nor are the pod vehicles present - couldn't we even have had the Mole drilling away at something? It really is a tedious film. And that's not even mentioning Alan Tracy ignoring his girlfriend, Tin-Tin, and fantasising about Lady P instead. Way to be a good role-model for the kiddies, Alan. Then again he was a snot in the telly series too...

Maybe I'm being too hard on what is meant to be an inoffensive kids' film featuring explosions and great model work. But then again the TV show was a genuinely exciting and exhilarating programme, which, at its best, provided great entertainment. "Thunderbirds are Go!" has an uneventful plot, awful dialogue, no decent set-pieces, and - the cardinal sin - a boring rescue that doesn't even utilise the Thunderbird craft to the best of their abilities. It's difficult to imagine kids being wowed by it. You'd be far better off going back to the telly series. Show your kids the Fireflash episodes, or that brill one where giant alligators attacked a manor house. Heck, show them the daft one where Parker encouraged everybody to play bingo for half an hour. Both younger viewers and adults looking for warm nostalgia will be disappointed with "Thunderbirds are Go!" Avoid.

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953)

"The heart of New York has stopped beating!"

[6/10 · 20 June 2007]

A monster is woken up by a nuclear bomb test and wanders towards New York, attacking small ships and lighthouses with reckless abandon. A young scientist with an indeterminate and variable accent tries to convince other chaps of different professions that the monster exists. Very little happens very slowly until the monster starts rampaging through the city and civilians get knocked off in nasty ways. Can anybody stop this marauding fiend? Most probably.

"Beast" is a typical monster movie, with a clunky script, a rigid plot and a cast of actors you've probably never heard of playing second fiddle to the special effects. Fortunately it's probably one of the better examples of its genre. For once the sexist totty scientist's assistant isn't caught in a situation of dire peril from which she needs to be rescued by a hunky soldier chap - indeed, the female lead does nothing bar peering at a collection of old drawings and only gets patronised once ("A pretty girl like you - a palaeontologist! Ha ha ha!") - and the old bloke professor isn't a nutter but a genuinely nice man who it's impossible not to like. Even the male lead is quite pleasant overall. Of course, the film's main draw is Ray Harryhausen's Rhedosaurus, which, for the time, was a masterpiece of special effects work. I've always adored Harryhausen's creatures from a young age and though his work would get better and more intricate as his films went on - the Rhedosaurus lacks the more empathetic emotional qualities that imbued some of Harryhausen's later creations, like the Ymir and Trog - the "Beast" is certainly not to be sniffed at, even though the effects used to meld it alongside the live action footage could be better.

The film contains some sloppy mistakes, such as a policeman who gets eaten by the monster suddenly being alive and well a few shots later, and the fact that the military actually lose this gigantic monster not once but *twice* in Manhattan, the bloody fools. Still, it's an entertaining load of old tosh that remains a few notches above your average B-movie.

The Titfield Thunderbolt (1953)

"Urgh! Trains!"

[4/10 · 16 June 2007]

A very curious beast, this. It contains many of the trademarks of other Ealing comedies - the little people facing oppressive civil servant types and capitalism, lightly fantastical moments, a sense of community spirit etc. - yet these elements fail to gel this time round. In fact it's probably the only Ealing comedy to really fall flat on its face.

The plot concerns a small, out-of-date railway that is due to be closed down and the local community's attempts to keep it running in the face of monumental adversity. Part of the problem lies in the fact that it's difficult to empathise with the characters' plight; I'd imagine that whereas most people would like to get rich quick (The Lavender Hill Mob, for example), few have dreams of running their own railway. Also, the main characters want to keep the railway going purely out of a desire to uphold tradition, when alternative forms of transportation are far more efficient and a Hell of a lot safer. We're meant to be on the side of the vicar and his chums trying to run a railway on their own but one can't help but think that the bureaucracy are right on this occasion and that the heroes just aren't capable of carrying out this great task. Whilst the problems that beset them are admittedly the fault of an exterior menace - mainly a couple of lads who run a bus route (ooo, scary) - the "goodies" thwart their foes at every turn by... erm... ramming them off the track (nice), or tying the train to the engine by rope (thereby posing a massive safety risk to all the passengers).

Then there's the bit where Sid James shoots holes in the water refill tank and they need to find a new source of water - the river holds the apparent solution, so the drivers bang on the windows of the train and order all the passengers out so that they can help them (!) by raiding the local farm (!!) for containers to carry water back and forth until the engine's filled. Though it says a lot about the community spirit, it's a bit unlikely that the passengers would be willing to expend physical labour on what was supposed to be a quiet journey that they themselves have paid money for (the one man who refuses to do it - saying quite rightly that he shouldn't have to - is painted as the black sheep!). It makes it difficult to believe that everybody should be so keen for the railway to continue when every journey they go on is fraught with safety hazards and delays; most people would sod it for a game of soldiers and get the bus instead. And by the time people are flocking to help push the train along the tracks (a replacement engine from the local museum, note, and therefore even deadlier than the one before) to get it past its government inspection you wonder whether these people should have something better to do with their lives than fret about maintaining what seems to be the most inefficient and dangerous train service that ever existed. In fact the one argument in their favour - that replacing the one train with loads of bus routes and motorways would have huge environmental concerns and destroy the countryside - is mentioned once and then forgotten about; it seems that we're supposed to support them simply because, well, they want to run a railway and it's quite a nice hobby. I know it's supposed to be whimsical and all that but I just couldn't help but think that these characters - with their hearts in the right places - were an utter menace.

Of the cast only Stanley Holloway shines as a wonderfully eccentric chap mad enough to finance the affair so long as the train has a 24 hour bar inside, and there is a wonderful sequence with a train driving down the roads of a local town (one of those magical moments Ealing did so well), but the story doesn't have strong enough foundations and the pace drags awfully (its slim 80 minutes seem to last forever). Not even the old English charm can save it. Probably worth a single viewing but you probably won't go back to it in a hurry.

A Christmas Carol (1951)

"I don't deserve to be so happy... but I can't help it!"

[8/10 · 14 June 2007]

Without doubt the finest film version of Dickens' tale. Whilst any scene with Tiny Tim may be too surgery sweet to take completely seriously (which is as it should be), this version is at heart a chilling ghost story with a very happy ending. Other versions emphasise the whimsy or the comedy, but this one manages to tug at your heartstrings one moment and terrify you the next. It always keeps you on your toes.

Central to all this is a master class performance from Alastair Sim and it's a crime that his talents are not more widely spoken of today - he should be up there with Olivier in discussions about the best actors Britain ever had. Sim imbues Scrooge with a wonderfully ghoulish quality and effortlessly transforms from crotchety git to joyous nutcase; this Scrooge doesn't make an arbitrary decision to be nice 5 minutes from the end, his growing self-doubt and desire to repent can be witnessed throughout thanks to Sim's multi-layered portrayal. Sim was an actor who could chill you to bone with a single glance but have you in tears of laughter a few moments later. He was one of the acting world's treasures and "Scrooge" shows him in one of his finest roles. The rest of the cast are good too - there isn't a single bad performance - though naturally all are eclipsed by Alastair Sim. Regardless, George Cole makes for a good choice as a younger Scrooge, his boyish charms conveying a growing steeliness as the story progresses; Mervyn Johns is delightfully sweet as Bob Crachit; and Michael Hordern's turn as Jacob Marley's ghost is bloody frightening. Great stuff.

It is interesting how this Christmas tale manages to chuck in a few scares, much of which are due to the overpowering choral music (a plus, for a change) and the great direction. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come has never been spookier than here. I do question really whether this film is suitable for young kids - they'd probably be better off with the Muppet version - but for adults this one can't be bettered. Alastair Sim's "Scrooge" should be a cornerstone of everybody's Christmas holidays.

The Importance of Being Earnest (1952)

"I intend to develop in many directions!"

[6/10 · 14 June 2007]

Long regarded as the definitive version of Oscar Wilde's classic play, Asquith's adaptation still suffers from the faults of the original despite being heavily edited (running at what ought to be a brisk 90 minutes).

"Earnest" is a social satire, a comedy of nonsensical manners and civilities, the like of which Wilde continually penned, and its plot - whilst relying heavily on co-incidence - is satisfyingly circular and consistent. The problem lies with the fact that very little actually happens, and what does happen occurs very, very slowly due to the sheer verbosity of the dialogue. Now, much of this is what gives the play its charm and it cannot be denied that the syntax and vocabulary has a beauty all of its own. However, one can admire a work of art whilst not necessarily liking it. An Oscar Wilde play is whimsical and not to be taken altogether seriously, which means that, though they are witty, they are ultimately quite superficial - this coupled with the sheer amount of dialogue often makes a Wilde play seem far longer than it actually is. I often think that Wilde's plays are far better when read than actually performed, as when performed they are often far too much to take in in one go. You feel pinned to the chair by the waves of dry wit.

"The Importance of Being Earnest" therefore has a delightful plot, and equally delightful characters, but remains just as slow as Wilde's other plays, especially when directed in such a languid fashion as this version. For a dialogue heavy comedy such as this to entirely work, a sense of energy much be cultivated (I was recently in a theatrical adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray which suffered from having very little energy at all and ultimately proved a chore for the audience to watch) which is all but lacking here as the characters go about everything quite calmly and stoically. Of course, this is arguably in keeping with the source material but makes the film difficult for modern viewers to sit through. A shame as the majority of the cast is first rate; in particular, Michael Denison is superb as Algernon, though it is difficult to single out anybody in particular (interesting, though, that Rutherford's Miss Prism is often used as the focus of relevant artwork for the film given that the role is really quite small, even more so in this adaptation - it is perhaps tantamount to Rutherford's performance that her Miss Prism is so well remembered). I must admit to not really enjoying Edith Evans' portrayal of Lady Bracknell, though that may be more due to the character as written; though Evans is very much the gorgon of which Jack Worthing speaks, the witticisms Wilde scribes for her are far better when delivered as casual rapid-fire lines, as opposed to the over-emphasised and long delivery that an actress feels compelled to give when playing Bracknell. Evans stretches out lines to breaking point so that when she has finished a sentence one quite forgets as to how it began.

The play itself deserves to remain a classic of its genre though perhaps is more likely to be admired than actively enjoyed, certainly in this incarnation.

The Lavender Hill Mob (1951)

"What a good thing it is we're honest men!" "It is indeed, Pendlebury."

[7/10 · 14 June 2007]

An effective little diversion, "The Lavender Hill Mob" is one of Ealing's most beloved comedies, even if - like much of their output - it isn't exactly filled with hilarity and genuine belly-laughs. Yet it has the best Ealing hallmarks, including another "little man" trying to overcome the authorities and a breezy plot that has a touch of fantasy about it despite being firmly entrenched in the real world.

Alec Guinness gives a wonderful performance as the seemingly meek bank clerk willing to mastermind the greatest gold heist in history, Guinness enriching the character with so many subtle touches that it bears repeated viewings just to realise how great he is; it's not grand, emotional acting, just playing a character and playing it bloody well. Stanley Holloway, whilst not in the same league as Guinness, is also very entertaining to watch and the two actors form a lovable double act. Less can be said about the rest of the cast as the story really only concerns Guinness and Holloway - even Sid James and Alfie Bass, receiving prominent billing, get about 20 minutes of screen time. The cinematography is also notable, particularly the famous sequence of our two stars running down the spiral staircase at the Eiffel Tower which manages to make the viewer feel as giddy as the characters are. It shows how even a small slice of whimsy can be enriched further with a bit of effort; nobody concerned with this film is giving less than 110%.

The only drawbacks to the film are a certain datedness - especially the toe-curling bit where a middle aged police constable sings "Old MacDonald" loudly and happily (did grown men really used to like those songs?) - and the fact that much time is spent on action with the result that there isn't a lot that's actually *funny* in what is supposed to be a comedy. Certainly there are few quotable lines as there isn't a lot of dialogue in the script. However, these problems are slight and "The Lavender Hill Mob" remains a highly enjoyable 80 minutes of whimsical charm. Nobody made such films quite as well as Ealing did.

Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949)

Poisonous

[7/10 · 14 June 2007]

Undoubtedly a classic of its era, "Kind Hearts and Coronets" may be unfortunately a difficult experience for modern viewers; though not a particularly long film, its relentlessly dry humour and wit acts as a double-edged sword, making it hard to sit through in one single viewing without growing a bit - dare I say it - bored. That is not to say that it's in any way a bad film, merely that it's a definite product of its time, with a slow pace and theatrical direction, dialogue and performances that may not be to everybody's tastes.

However, if you give "Kind Hearts" a fair chance you'll uncover an absolutely superb story that has its decent share of plot twists and ironies. The script, though wordy, is magnificent and delivered impeccably by the actors, particularly by star and narrator Dennis Price who one suspects was born to read such lines. Price gives the standout performance of his career and it's a shame in a way that it's so often overshadowed by Alec Guinness' turn as the entire D'Ascoyne family, though of course Guinness is note-perfect and his achievement is startling. Joan Greenwood is also particularly noteworthy, proving that strong female characters on film were not an invention of later decades, and Greenwood was one of the best actresses we ever had.

I must admit that "Kind Hearts and Coronets" is a film I admire more than I actively enjoy, though it has a great deal of merit and is well worth watching at least once. I fear, though, that it's a cinematic entry destined to always adorn "100 Best Movies" lists with fewer and fewer people having actually watched it. Perhaps it'd be worth updating for a modern audience - the only film that I think would benefit from a remake - so long as the essential charm and genteel elegance were retained.

Passport to Pimlico (1949)

"We are English and we always will be English!"

[6/10 · 14 June 2007]

One of Ealing's most fondly remembered comedies and for good reason; it's another one of their "little man stands up to the establishment" films, this time with the people of Pimlico sticking by their rights to be independent from Whitehall. There are some problems with the set-up - most notably with the fact that many of the problems the Pimlico citizens get into are their own fault by deliberately spiting the British government (ridiculing the police a few minutes before demanding they have police protection is a good case in point) - but overall the film gets by with its charm and almost fantastical quaintness. The satirical edge has been blunted by the passing years but for a film over 55 years old it still stands up today rather well. A glimpse into another world, really, where everybody in the district knows each other and life goes on amongst glimpses of bombed out buildings following the Blitz (for more of this sort of thing, see the earlier "Hue and Cry").

The characters are an amiable lot and Stanley Holloway is a likable lead, embodying the Ealing Comedy spirit very well. Watch out also for a rather depressed pre-Carry On Charles Hawtrey, wandering in and out of the story at regular intervals. However, the absolutely wonderful Margaret Rutherford steals every one of her scenes, playing her eccentric, dotty old lady character as reliably and enjoyably as she ever did. I'm always amazed at how energetic her performances were. She was certainly one of British cinema's treasures.

"Pimlico", despite some story problems, remains a fun little picture that at 80 minutes doesn't out-stay its welcome, and probably gets better with repeated viewings. Well worth a go.

The Man in the White Suit (1951)

"You can't fire me - I don't work here!"

[9/10 · 14 June 2007]

In my mind the best of the Ealing comedies and one of my favourite films of all time. The theme of workers v. management (with lots of talk of unions and rights) perhaps dates the film a bit now as it's no longer a subject discussed all that much but that doesn't stop "White Suit" from being a show stopping classic.

The plot, about a man trying to create a revolutionary new fabric which ends up putting the textiles industry into turmoil, doesn't sound exciting when written down but the film retains that essential spark of fantasy mixed with reality that marks it out as a true Ealing comedy. The fabric repels dirt and can never wear out! The titular white suit that Alec Guinness wears throughout the second half becomes the centrepiece for several iconic images and sequences, such as Guinness being able to use his indestructible thread to scale a sheer wall! The script itself is full of dry wit - "Is he all right?" "Yes." "Pity." - and characterisation is first rate. I'm always astonished by the wonderful direction in these films as well. Comedies of later eras would adopt a "point the camera at the actors and let it roll" mentality but the Ealing films always attempted interesting lighting and angles and innovations. This film is no exception.

Of course, it's the cast that lifts the material to dizzying heights. Alec Guinness gives a fantastically understated performance, with eyes that convey wonder, joy and crushing defeat whenever the story demands it. Stratton is a man oblivious to everything except his work. Such an insular character could quickly have become boring or irritating but Guinness effortlessly makes him likable, so much so that the closing stages of the film generate a real sense of urgency as Stratton tries to come out on top in a world that wants to bury everything he's ever worked for. Joan Greenwood plays another of her strong female roles and is an absolute delight to watch as usual, as are befuddled Cecil Parker and slimy Michael Gough; everybody gets laughs without even trying to. It's comical British understatement at its finest.

"The Man in the White Suit" is 81 minutes of sheer brilliance, with a great plot, great cast, sparkling wit and healthy dollops of cynicism. Absolutely top notch.

Dulcimer Street (1948)

Interesting but deeply flawed

[4/10 · 14 June 2007]

A nicely evoked 1930s setting provides much interest for a viewer in the early 21st century; unfortunately, "London Belongs to Me" has little else to recommend it besides lashings of quaint English charm. All of the problems rest with the deeply unfocused story. The main plot concerns the actions of young lad Richard Attenborough, the problems he gets into and how the community in which he lives bands together to save him from society's laws. Or something. The main issue here is that Attenborough's character brings everything upon himself and, quite frankly, is guilty of almost every accusation brought against him, so it's baffling why the film (and all the characters) have so much sympathy for him. He's treated as a victim of circumstance when he really, really isn't; and what's more he isn't shown to have very much remorse for his actions, only caring about getting away with things he didn't mean to do. Alastair Sim gets a lot of screen time in a subplot that has absolutely nothing to do with the main plot line and you wonder what he's doing there (though Sim is, as always, superb). You know there's a problem with the structure when the main plot impacts constantly against the subplot but not vice-versa. And, following a sedate pace and a careful build up, the plot completely falls apart in the last 20 minutes with a deeply unsatisfying and unexplained conclusion which doesn't even show us if Attenborough's character has developed at all from the previous proceedings. The film doesn't end, it just stops.

The acting, direction and the general feel of the film can all be commended but unfortunately the story and structure of the piece jars constantly. A last point of trivia: Alec Guinness based his performance in the vastly superior film "The Ladykillers" on Alastair Sim's performance in this film, right down to both the characters having almost identical first scenes.

Down Among the Z Men (1952)

"I'd like to show you a bit of burlesque..."

[2/10 · 14 June 2007]

The Goons revolutionised comedy in their hit radio series but their only foray into films showcases very, very few of their talents; in fact it's an absolute mess. The plot involves some spies trying to steal a formula (quite why British secret service spies are stealing British Army codes is just one problem among many) and um... stuff happens. Most of it irrelevant. The film only lasts 68 minutes and yet that includes two straight musical numbers from Leslie Roberts (who?) and two interminable tap-dancing scenes, none of which feature the Goons in any real way. Why all the padding? All pretence at building a story completely falls apart for about 15 minutes when all the characters involve themselves in a variety show for the army lads. Perhaps this was meant to hark back to the Goons' army revue beginnings, but it's bloody ghastly to watch. The Goons weren't known for their coherent narratives - that's what made them fun to listen to - but this is just taking the mickey.

One central problem is that very little in this film strikes one as being particularly Goonish. The prominence of Michael Bentine points to this film being made during the very early years of The Goons - he'd left by the time they became truly popular - and the few gags sprinkled around just aren't funny. When an army comedy resorts to guerrilla / gorilla puns, you know it's floundering. One of the highlights of The Goon Show was the sheer number of regular characters that the stars portrayed and yet each member is here reduced to only playing one character each, none of them doing so particularly effectively. Only Peter Sellers is really worth watching, being able to show off a few of the chameleonic talents that made him the success he later became, though he's perversely the most underused of the four stars. His understated Colonel Bloodnok completely steps out of character when performing a "comic" scene involving two American soldiers on stage, a sequence which highlights Sellers' fantastic ability to switch between voices and characters at will but something that hardly benefits the film by the point it occurs. Still, it's far more palatable than Michael Bentine's back-of-a-chair stand-up routine, which apparently brought him great acclaim back in the day; I can't think why as it's possibly the most unfunny bit of comedy I've ever witnessed.

What's particularly annoying about this film is that some really very talented minds were behind it. I've never really been a Goon Show fan, truth be told, but it can't be denied that Spike Milligan was an extremely talented comic writer, and Peter Sellers was one of the best comic actors that ever lived. Yet "Down Among the Z Men" is an absolutely diabolical collation of unrelated scenes and sequences with not a single funny line to make paying money for this travesty worthwhile. To think that the RRP for the R2 DVD is £16 is nothing less than astonishing. £2.50 would be pushing it. It's a slice of comedy history but one that's probably best left unremembered.

Dead of Night (1945)

"Just room for one inside, sir!"

[7/10 · 14 June 2007]

"Dead of Night" is a film defeated by its own towering reputation as being of the creepiest films of British cinema. Certainly it is easy to imagine that a 1940s audience would have found it utterly terrifying but many of its ideas - premonitions, things in mirrors, a dummy that might have a life of its own etc. - have been repeated many times over the years to the point where this film will probably seem very quaint to a modern audience. Indeed, one may find oneself trying to second-guess the film and create better twists in the story lines than the ones that actually occur (certainly it's easy to spot some opportunities for a few extra scares in some of the segments). However, if approached with the right attitude then it's an enjoyable anthology piece that manages to unsettle even after 60 years.

Ealing Studios is of course best remembered for it's comedies and there's certainly a strain of good humour running through parts of this film, most notably in the absolutely barking golf segment ("May the Lord have mercy on your handicap!") which is really very funny (even if the idea behind it - that a woman would allow herself to be a prize for two golfers to play for - is too fantastical for words). However, this film is by and large meant to be frightening and there are still several moments of hair-raising tension sprinkled throughout. Whilst the actors now seem terribly stiff and far too well-spoken (though look out for a young Michael Redgrave as the ventriloquist), the direction more than compensates with interesting camera-work and use of lighting. The segment about a man seeing "something" in a mirror is by far the best one and may very well send shivers up your spine, even if the music is a bit too overblown (whilst the other segments are oddly bereft of much in the way of incidental music - much to their benefit).

At the end of the day, it's perhaps best to view "Dead of Night" as more of an historical document or curiosity as modern viewers coming to it hoping for thrills and genuine scariness will be left disappointed. However, if viewed in the spirit of its original context then it's easy to see why it gained the reputation that it did.

The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein (1973)

"The Curse of Frankenstein" - sequel to a film even worse than this one...

[2/10 · 1 August 2006]

More hot hacienda action the ol' Franco way, featuring many of the sets, actors and characters from "Dracula: Prisoner of Frankenstein". "Curse" does in fact exist in two versions, as the "proper" version is called "The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein" and is roughly the same as "Curse" aside from that fact that in several scenes the characters have miraculously lost all of their clothes. Curse is the censored and "clothed" one, which also unfortunately includes an additional number of scenes not present in "Erotic Rites" which depict a gypsy girl called Esmeralda wandering around a wood and talking to an under-acting old woman who doesn't even appear to realise that she's being filmed. Needless to say these scenes have absolutely sod all to do with anything else and, in an act of pure sadism, Tartan Video decided to release this longer version onto DVD.

Being fair to it, "Curse" is a lot better than "Dracula: Prisoner" and with some alterations could even have made a tolerable 70s horror film in its own right. Its core plot isn't too far removed from the Hammer films being churned out at the time and there's some vaguely interesting stuff going on in it. However, that doesn't mean to say it's any good. Mercifully, Franco has vastly cut down on the number of crash zooms though still seems to have problems in focussing the camera a third of the time, and most exterior footage seems to suggest that every building in Spain is situated on an ungodly ground subsidence. The musical score is also questionable, giving us some nicely eerie tunes here and there and then assaulting us with jazzy percussion tempos during key action scenes, such as when Frankenstein's monster breaks into a poor young lady's bedroom and leaps on her on the bed. Ah yes, there's some naughty hijinks going on in this film – including a truly nasty whipping scene that goes on for too long (and is even worse in the "Erotic" version, simply because one of the people being whipped is a nude 50 year old man – urgh…) – but certainly nothing to get heated about. Then again, Franco's idea of erotica seemed to be to just point a camera at a naked woman and stay there for 30 seconds a throw. Ho hum.

Dr Frankenstein (Price) is reanimating a somewhat shinier version of his monster, with help from his assistant, Morpho (what is Franco's fetish with the name 'Morpho'???). Despite playing the title character, Price is killed approximately two minutes into the film. Now, poor old Price's characters often have a run of bad luck. I've seen him getting throttled, impaled, drowned, drained of blood, tipped into acid and "excited to death", but I think I wouldn't be wrong in saying that Curse gives us the most novel method of Price dispatchment: bitten and bled by a blind and cannibalistic bird woman. Mmm. There's something to write home about. The bird woman and a gurning helper steal Frankenstein's monster and take him to the true villain of the piece, Cagliostro: a ranting nutter who doesn't blink (yes, it's Howard Vernon again, far better playing some bloke we've never heard of than the legendary Count Dracula). Cagliostro initially seems to want the monster to steal lots of virgins for him but then decides that he wants to create the ultimate woman as a bride of sorts for the monster. Quite why I don't know but I'm sure if he had the chance he'd list his reasons. Frankenstein's daughter, Vera, comes to pay her respects at her dad's funeral, following which she steals the body and reanimates it back at the "castle" to learn who did the poor bugger in. Eventually she reasons that the best way to get her revenge on Cagliostro is to let herself get captured by his monster and… um, get hypnotised into being his completely willing slave. Yes. Erm, not quite sure what she was getting at, there. In any case, that's the status quo and it's not even including the activities of the good Dr Seward, wandering around the plot and chatting to people (probably looking for Bram Stoker for an explanation as to what on Earth he's doing there).

I said it wasn't as bad as "Dracula: Prisoner" and that's true. For a start, it can only tarnish the memory of one horror staple rather than three, but aside from that it at least seems to know where it's going half the time. Most of this is thanks to the dialogue, in stark contrast with its prequel; yes, this time characters actually talk to each other, a revolutionary concept if ever I've heard one. Dr Seward actually gets stuff to do here and even comes across as a decent enough hero character (even if he does try to chat up Vena at her dad's own funeral – yes, really), having a hand in the baddie's downfall as opposed to his spare part status in "Dracula: Prisoner". Dennis Price appears several times throughout the narrative despite the seemingly overwhelming drawback of having been killed but spends most of the time lying on a bed, twitching spasmodically and rambling about his monster and Cagliostro. From what I can make out, Price seems to be giving an… interesting performance (in other words, going over the top to exceptional degrees) but as it's dubbed in Spanish with English subtitles I can't really tell. Eventually Frankenstein dies after one ramble too many, only to come back from the dead as a (somewhat mincing) zombie who staggers into the next room to have a go at strangling Dr Seward. Price's demise is finally made certain when a police inspector chucks a container of acid over him, which seems to disintegrate Price's head in 0.5 seconds. Golly.

And then, 20 minutes later, it sort of... stops. I ought to be grateful that it ended at all.

Vampyros Lesbos (1971)

Poor, poor Dennis Price - frown for all you're worth, me old son

[3/10 · 2 April 2005]

My purpose for watching this wasn't for the lesbian content (I'm sure I could find steamier stuff if I tried) - it was to see the depths to which such a fantastic actor as Dennis Price, the star of "Kind Hearts and Coronets" about 22 years earlier, was forced to sink to in order to pay his bills. It truly is a depressing experience, though, remarkably, Price manages to escape with most of his dignity intact. This seems an even greater achievement when you consider that the DVD is of a Spanish film dubbed into German with English subtitles.

In "Vampyros Lesbos" he plays a Dr. Steward, psychologist and secret vampire enthusiast, the latter hobby suddenly being revealed out of nowhere once the plot requires it. You see, despite being given a rather ill-defined character to work with, and in direct contrast to the rest of the cast, Price actually *acts*. Mixing concern with frightened fascination, he draws your attention in whatever scene he appears, and probably gets more close ups in this film than in any other I've seen. It's not a particularly large part but he does have a fair amount of screen time, and it was a joy to watch him. It was a huge shame that I couldn't actually hear him speak his own lines, as the German dubber made the best attempt to deaden any emotion that Price attempted to convey, but his facial expressions were enough, and so I just imagined Price's voice instead. Whilst the direction elsewhere in the film can be called into question, Price manages to create a great atmosphere of tension in his encounter with Countess Nadine, pleading with her to give him the secret of vampirism. The only real slip-up is in his death a few seconds later in which, upon realising that his life is distinctly on the line, gently canters down some stairs rather than make a bolt for it, allowing Nadine's burly henchman to effortlessly catch up with and throttle the life out of him, though I suspect this is more a directing fault than anything that could be blamed on Price himself. And it must be said that the strangling is rather unnerving.

However, after Price dies we still have fifteen minutes left until the end of the film, which we must spend with the other characters that we've been presented with throughout the duration, and this is where the film falls down - every scene lacking Dennis Price is absolutely dire, as he is the only actor capable of giving a decent performance, and the story holding everything together is so flimsy that it might as well not be there. And indeed isn't, for a majority of the time. Price's Dr. Steward is actually in one of the many seemingly pointless subplots peppered here and there, which also include a scary pervo bloke who gets his kicks him tying up women and threatening them with a hacksaw, and an insane woman throwing herself about a clinic waiting for Countess Nadine to return to her and give her a bit of a seeing to. These characters serve no function at all, and are rather tedious, all told.

The main plot line concerns itself with Linda, who is apparently worried about the frequency of erotic dreams she's been having about a woman she's never met before. When her boyfriend, a shifty looking spiv type, takes her to a strip-club (?!) she recognises the "dancer" (that's being charitable) as the woman in her dreams. Turns out the woman is Countess Nadine Carody, a vampire with connections to Dracula himself. Linda goes to Nadine's estate to help her with insurance, or something, and has various encounters with her during the running time. Narrative consistency is thrown out of the window when, despite being frightened of Nadine when they first meet, she quite happily goes skinny-dipping with her (?!) and then lies nude with her on the beach - "It's good to lie naked in the sand. Especially when you're with somebody." "Yes." Good grief. And in the next scene she's once more a bit suspect about the whole deal.

I know what you're thinking - "It's lesbo porn, it doesn't need a plot!" But there isn't really much of the steamy shenanigans going on to uphold such a claim, and the few scenes of "Near naked ladies snatch a few fumbling kisses," are played so stiltedly that any erotic tension is immediately dissipated. The director seems to think that propping a few nude women here and there automatically means "sexy" when it, well, doesn't. It just gets tedious and laughable more than anything else. It comes to something when I was far more willing to watch Dennis Price writing in his diary than two rather beautiful ladies having it away with each other.

The direction is full of "clever" and "artistic" shots of scorpions and moths and a kite (...), which are meant to make us nod our heads sagely and say "Ahh, mmm..." but just come off as pretentious and silly. We're also forced to endure a bizarre striptease performance (in which Nadine removes her clothes and puts them on her partner, who seems to be pretending to be a mannequin) twice, and both times it's dull as hell. Fortunately the group of 40-somethings in the club appear to be enjoying themselves, though since they staggeringly fail to notice Nadine killing her partner on the second run through and clap anyway, I'm not so certain that their opinion is valid.

Apparently this is a cult classic, with its dire soundtrack (the sitar has never been my favourite instrument) achieving acclaim in some quarters. Allegedly. I can't say that I was disappointed with this film as I knew it was going to be rubbish to start with. Fortunately it was vaguely worthwhile simply to see Price's performance, though it's certainly a disc that won't be given another spin in quite a long time.

Those Fantastic Flying Fools (1967)

The Mysteriously Teleporting Deliah Lavi. Oh, and it's rather dull, all told.

[6/10 · 26 March 2005]

"Rocket to the Moon" is a film that boasts some great actors and a fantastically whimsical central concept - yes, it's another of those "Victorians try to reach the Moon" stories, though this one's based on something by Jules Verne anyway, so hurrah for that. I've never read the original, so I haven't a clue which bits of the film are faithful to the book, though I'm sure comedy pratfalling wasn't high on Verne's list of priorities for narrative-inclusion. I've always loved Victoriana, and films set in the period always look sumptuous. The entire concept of the Victorian scientists trying to expand the horizons of humanity has always fascinated me. The 60's version of "The Time Machine" remains my favourite film after what must be over fifteen viewings, and even the dismal Ray Harryhausen venture "First Men in the Moon" dregs up some respectability for its early Victorian scenes with a rather excitable Lionel Jeffries (who's in this film too).

"Rocket to the Moon" sometimes contains the same levels of charm and enjoyment of similar "epics", but to use a whoary old clichéd reviewer's line, the whole is less than the sum of its parts. The whole inventors bit is still terribly entertaining, and an early scene where a bridge is held together only by the initiation ceremony ribbon, which then gets cut by Queen Victoria, is good for a giggle. However, though every so often there are such delights as debating how a rocket could be propelled to the Moon ("You would need a big cannon!"), and what to do should they meet any alien life ("Chloroform!"), in between there are some long stretches of not very much happening at all, and there are one too many misfired gags. The plot goes for a complete Burton during the last twenty five minutes or so, which descends into a drawn out and utterly pointless chase scene between a vintage car and a penny-farthing. The inclusion of what is suggested to be some kind of brothel to which Deliah Lavi's character is forcibly sent also seems terribly out of place with the playful innocence of the action surrounding it ("Why are there bars on the windows?" "Oh, that's not to keep you girls in. It's to keep the gentlemen out.") There is some top-notch comedy talent on display to keep the viewer periodically entertained. Terry-Thomas, as always, gives it his best shot, playing one of his most caddish characters - in fact, at times he actually does seem quite dangerous, which can make for one or two rather disturbing scenes. Lionel Jeffries is always good value for money, and even Graham Stark succeeds at being amusing here. For me, however, a quiet and understated performance from Dennis Price steals the picture, even if he doesn't actually have any jokes per se. The scene in which he slowly discovers that Terry-Thomas has a rigged pool table is probably the best of the film, and there's a rather electric bit soon after where he attacks T-T at a club, complete with shouting and copious stick waving.

However, the young leading man, Troy Donahue, is utterly wooden, and kills quite a few potentially funny lines. Comedy German eccentric Gert Frobe veers alarmingly between being hilarious ("What do we do now?" "I don't know, we've never got this far before,") and being tremendously irritating. And the less said about Deliah Lavi, the better. No, in fact, let's talk about her anyway. Maybe it's just the character she's forced to play, a bimbo who leaps into the arms of whatever young man may be nearest to her at the time. But Deliah doesn't try to give her much of a personality, and so just resembles a walking personality vacuum. The writer doesn't even seem to have bothered in giving her character any logical sense, as she appears to teleport from place to place for no reason at all except plot expediency (why the hell is she in the rocket at night for any reason other than to be discovered by T-T and Lionel Jeffries?) In the chase scene at the end she seems to acquire a penny-farthing from nowhere, and frankly just looks ridiculous - and it's painfully obvious when a double has been used in the long shots.

The plot groans with the attempts to include a bit of jeopardy, and so T-T, starting off as a harmless cad, embezzling the project money, suddenly turns into a bit of a leering psycho, determined to make sure the rocket never leaves the Earth, even if to do so means killing off Troy Donahue (then again, maybe that's not such a bad idea). There's also a running gag about a Russian spy that doesn't appear to really lead anywhere, and after the first use of it (which is actually funny) should really have been dropped.

I really wanted to like this film more than I did, and, indeed, on first viewing I found it a great, if a touch gentle, little feature. However, on subsequent viewings, the meandering nature of the story becomes more and more obvious, as do the number of jokes that just plain don't work. Fantastic actors appear wasted in roles that require them to change their character's personality practically every other scene - Lionel Jeffries' Sir Charles Dillworthy seems to harbour a loathing of T-T's Washington-Smythe at the beginning, then appears terrified of him, then angry, and then just willingly teams up with him by the end anyway.

Overall, though the concept of the film still remains a huge attraction, and actors like Dennis Price and Terry-Thomas still make it well worth watching on a Sunday afternoon, I can't help but feel a bit disappointed with "Rocket to the Moon", which would have been better having it's plot tightened up and getting rid of a few of the longer set pieces (Gert Frobe's cannon experiments, for example). Or maybe it just needed to be a bit funnier.

6/10

The Bobo (1967)

Sellers seduces his own wife

[8/10 · 19 March 2005]

This is one of Peter Sellers' more forgotten efforts that only occasionally appears in documentaries and biographies so that it can be ritually slagged off before being left to gather dust once more. And yet I'm going to have to say that I quite like this little film.

I've seen it twice now, and I can't work out what's supposed to be so wrong with it. Granted, it's not perfect, but it's nowhere near as bad as it's made out to be. In fact, Juan Baustista, the singing matador, is probably one of Sellers' better acting roles (and that's saying something as he's bloody brilliant in almost everything), with every line either arousing sympathy or humour. Though Juan shouldn't be hugely likable - after all, the plot is about him trying to "conquer" a particular woman in three days so that he can get a singing contract at the local theatre - Sellers makes him so, with baleful glances and a genuine romantic quality. It's a subtle performance in many ways, and also, at times, a very funny one, Sellers displaying his usual comic flair. "I may look to you like a man who is waiting, but I can assure you that I am actually looking like a man who is *not* waiting. Mmm." Whether the Spanish accent is realistic I don't know, but it worked fine for me.

Britt Ekland co-stars as the focus of Juan's attentions, the vamp Olimpia. Sellers and Ekland were still married at the time and apparently filming was very tense as they were going through one of many rough patches in their relationship. However, this doesn't show on screen, and the two have a delightfully interesting chemistry. As for Britt as an actress in general, she does quite well here, and neither overacts nor underacts as she has a tendency to do in various other films I've seen her in (the otherwise marvellous Amicus anthology "Asylum", for instance).

There are actors of various nationalities on display, and as a result I knew few of them - there's a chap wearing a fez identical to the one he wore in "I'm All Right Jack", and the excitable Pepe is played by Boulting Brothers Welsh regular actor Kenneth Griffith, all but unrecognisable under thick specs and an even thicker Spanish accent. However, the always lovable Hattie Jacques has quite a substantial role as Britt's maid/housekeeper/minder, and it's interesting to see her in scenes opposite Peter Sellers, after her many years having been on radio with the other comedy legend Tony Hancock in "Hancock's Half Hour".

Though overall this is a very gentle and humorous film, there are some flaws. There seem to be several subplots going on at the beginning to do with men falling in and out of love with Olimpia, all of which get forgotten about once Sellers actually gets involved in the main plot line a whole half hour into the film, having spent his time prior to this wandering around a cafe ordering cheese sandwiches. There's a hideously OTT French camp bloke in the pervy hotel scene, who is, quite frankly, as irritating as a mosquito with asthma. And the film grinds to a halt about forty-five minutes in to make way for a bizarre five minute flamenco-dancing scene that drags interminably and has the scariest looking woman I've ever seen in a film, snarling and wracked with pain throughout, the dance itself making one's feet hurt just watching it. I bet her honeymoon was memorable. Her hubbie's back must have felt like murder in the morning. The things people do for love, eh? As for the whole singing blue matador bit, which was used to promote the film on posters, trailers, and merchandise (including the video and DVD), I have to ask - why? Sellers only actually goes blue about ten minutes from the end, so I'm not sure what the point of it was. There's also some dire sound syncing during his opera bit in the arena.

However, these niggles don't really detract from the film as a whole, which moves along quite nicely with some whimsical humour chucked in and a rather top notch Spanish musical score. It's even quite touching in places towards the end. Certainly worth a viewing, I'd say, even if nobody else thinks so.

8/10

The Pure Hell of St. Trinian's (1960)

'Castaway' - starring Flash Harry

[6/10 · 18 March 2005]

There's just something utterly magical about the first three St. Trinian's films. Almost every character in them is played by an actor recognisable from over fifty other British films of the time, and they frequently have the best cast lists of comic talent ever seen in a British comedy. Quite often a film with a cast this distinguished can turn out to be a grave disappointment (such a fate befell efforts like "The Magnificent Seven Deadly Sins", in which most of the effort on the part of the film-makers seemed to have been in actually recruiting the actors, rather than giving them anything worthwhile to perform). However, "Pure Hell", like "Belles" and "Blue Murder" before it, has a script and a story good enough to support the weight of these amassed comedy greats, most of whom you'll probably never have heard of. They're usually actors who appeared in loads of films of the period, and you'd never have thought of making a film at the time without them, but who never became stars in their own right - chaps like Raymond Huntley and Nicholas Phipps (most memorable in "Doctor in Love" as the frankly spiffing Dr. Cardew). Those actors who, if you're a vintage comedy connoisseur like me, you'll see and then go "Ahhh, yes!"

As well as an admirable leading performance from Cecil Parker (taking over from Terry-Thomas in the last film as the guesting star), we have marvellous return appearances from the likes of Joyce Grenfell as Sergeant Ruby Gates, Lloyd Lamble as the superintendent who got engaged to her 16 years ago and still hasn't tied the knot (they almost achieve it, twice, in this film), Eric Barker as the civil servant Culpepper-Brown, Michael Ripper as the philosophical lift attendant, and, of course, George Cole as the best spiv in the business, Flash Harry. Quite why I think he's so class I don't know - I mean, he quite obviously *is* top notch, but I can't put my finger on why. He's just... hurrah! It's Flash! With his cockney lingo and jaunty theme music (yes, it's here again, punctuating most of his scenes and it never gets tiresome)!

We also have the likes of Thorley Walters (hurrah!), Dennis Price (double hurrah!) and John le Mesurier (HURRAH!) as various members of the civil service, and Raymond Huntley, Cyril Chamberlain, Nicholas Phipps and Sid James making random appearances (actually, the double act of Eric Barker and Thorley Walters is one of the continued highlights of this film), and even some scenes with perhaps the best comedy actress there ever was, Irene Handl (probably best known for having played Peter Sellers wife in "I'm All Right Jack). Irene always seems to play these "posh commoner" roles, with wonderful lines like "So what bit of culture are you going to have a bash at then?", effortlessly stealing most of the laughs in whatever scene she appears in.

That's another reason to love the film - genuine wit. Whilst a lot of comedies of the period tended to rely on farce and gurning and people falling over, such scenes are kept to a minimum here (and, furthermore, even when they do happen they're actually amusing), with witty lines and comments being brought to the fore instead. There's far too many to choose from, but my favourite probably has to be in a scene where Cecil Parker, George Cole and Joyce Grenfell are stuck in a boat in the middle of the ocean, sipping tea like the stiff-upper-lipped British citizens that they are. "Stranded in the middle of the ocean," Parker laments mournfully, "With only enough food and water to last us for... six months; two sugars please." Lines like this are delivered in a dry throwaway manner and just tickled me all the way through.

The plot in this is far more complicated than those of the other films in the series, with most of the action being focused on the civil servants and adult characters, as opposed to the schoolgirls themselves. But the rambling story, which at one point seems to have ten plot lines running and intertwining at once, takes on a wonderfully surreal quality which further adds to the majesty of it all. In one scene, Parker, Cole, Grenfell, Barker and Walters are stuck out in a desert market place sipping tea at a cafe, and Phipps and Chamberlain, British soldiers in disguise, sit down at the table next to them. Chamberlain leans back to Walters to try and give his identity.

CHAMBERLAIN: "Psst. I'm a-"

WALTERS: "No, sorry, I don't want any postcards thank you."

...

PHIPPS: "Well, what did he say?"

CHAMBERLAIN: "He said he didn't want any post cards."

PHIPPS: "Oh... You haven't got any have you?"

Oh, and as for the schoolgirls, though they don't appear that often (and when they do it's usually the fourth formers, played by child actors), there are a few "sixth formers" dotted about - the glamorous twenty-something year old actresses dressed in uniforms and the shortest skirts you're ever likely to see. The initial courtroom scene contains a slow pan up the most gorgeous of the lot, with her... legs, and everything, and my word, by jove, indeed. Ha ha.

It's a quaint British comedy and I'm feeling a trifle warm just thinking about. I should have taken the tablets.

The film does at times seem to be running out of steam, but there's usually another random plot twist to pull it back into shape. Though I probably still prefer "Blue Murder" for the sheer Terry-Thomas factor, "Pure Hell" is only slightly less marvellous, and stands up as a true comedy classic in its own right. Especially for dull 50s/60s comedy fans like me.

9/10

Theater of Blood (1973)

Phibes Goes to the Theatre

[4/10 · 16 March 2005]

No spoilers.

Before I begin, let me give you the basic premise of one of my favourite films, "The Abominable Dr. Phibes".

A mad man thought to be dead, played by Vincent Price, is actually alive and well and has decided to exact revenge on nine doctors who he deems to have committed a huge crime. The doctors are all killed in a variety of staggeringly odd and increasingly bizarre ways, Price rigidly following the plagues detailed in the Curse of the Pharoahs. By the fourth death the local police inspector has twigged that there's something strange going on, and susses the link thanks to somebody in the know giving him the details, but it makes little difference in the long run. Oh, and after each death, Price likes to return to his big, theatrical looking house and play loud music.

And now let me give you the basic premise of "Theatre of Blood".

A mad man thought to be dead, played by Vincent Price, is actually alive and well and has decided to exact revenge on nine theatre critics who he deems to have committed a huge crime. The critics are all killed in a variety of staggeringly odd and increasingly bizarre ways, Price rigidly following the deaths detailed by Shakespeare plays he performed in during his last season. By the fourth death the local police inspector has twigged that there's something strange going on, and susses the link thanks to somebody in the know giving him the details, but it makes little difference in the long run. Oh, and after each death, Price likes to return to his big, theatrical looking theatre and quote the Bard.

Ahem.

Despite having a different writer and director, "Theatre of Blood" bears so many similarities to the former horror classic (made only two years earlier) it's untrue! As a result, this review might not be hugely subjective as all the way through I was comparing it to "Dr. Phibes" as I just felt as if I was watching the same film anyway. Now, this wouldn't necessarily have been a bad thing - after all, "The Abominable Dr. Phibes" is one of my favourite films, so another version with some different actors in it wouldn't have automatically have got a thumbs-down from me. Unfortunately, "Theatre of Blood" is nowhere near as well plotted nor as funny. Whereas "Dr. Phibes" wowed me with its novel deaths that really stretched the imagination, and some superbly dark humour (as well as having Peter Jeffrey and Terry-Thomas in it), this film just uses gore and bad puns. It's nowhere near as good.

Perhaps it's a backlash against the hype. "Theatre of Blood" seems to be held up as one of the best horror films of all time, a dark masterpiece, so maybe my expectations were too high. Maybe the names of so many top notch comic actors in the cast list - Dennis Price, Arthur Lowe, Robert Morley, Eric Sykes etc. - put me in the wrong mindset. I don't know.

One thing different is that Price's character seems nowhere near as ingenious or cunning. Whereas in the two Phibes films he did most of the work himself, occasionally assisted by one beautiful maiden, here he's got a gang of about twenty tramps and down-and-outs (don't ask) to do his bidding. The deaths themselves are also just plain revolting, and not amusing at all - impalings, suffocations, electrocutions, decapitations etc. - and don't even get any humorous pay offs. In fact, only one death was even remotely amusing, and that wasn't even given to one of the nine critics but to a police sergeant! "I think I can hear a train... Yes, it's definitely a train! T - R - A -" *BANG* Amongst the unpleasantness there's nothing driving the plot forward, and most of the comic talent on display is wasted - Dennis Price is one of the first to get killed and Arthur Lowe gets about four lines and a weary glance. It's surprising how little humour there is, with most of it being left to the two main police inspectors, played marvellously by Milo O'Shea and Eric Sykes, though neither appear as often as they should. "Dr. Phibes" got away with some of its more gruesome deaths by immediately counterbalancing them with scenes of immediate contrast (Phibes dancing to 1920s jazz) or comedy. That only happens once here -

Price: "Officer, officer! I do believe that Mr. Psaltery is murdering his wife!"

Policeman: "Oh. Thank you."

This is the funniest bit in the film. Trust me. Oh go on. I've got nice eyes.

Anyway, I'm afraid I just didn't like this film much, despite its reputation. It's just too gory and too unpleasant, and has little point to exist when there are better films (one in particular) that do exactly the same things but press all the right buttons. Ironic me saying all this really as the film's about an actor killing off people who give him bad reviews. There's satire in there somewhere.

Oh, and if you're still wondering about seeing this film, may I give an additional warning to people who like animals, pies, sleeping, fencing, back massages, going to the theatre, joining dramatics societies and to women who have their hair permed, dyed or generally seen to by a hair stylist. If you fall into one, more, or all of the above categories then this film may give you supreme paranoia and prevent you from wanting to indulge in the above activities or interests ever again.

I warned you.

4/10

Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969)

Did Cushing just *do* that?!

[6/10 · 16 March 2005]

This film can't really be talked about without spoilers regarding a certain infamous scene that happens about 45 minutes into the running time. However, this review contains no spoilers regarding the plot itself.

The 5th in Hammer's run of Frankenstein films starring Cushing, "Frankenstein Must be Destroyed" takes a few liberties with its central character, turning him from a vaguely amoral yet still likable enough dandy-doctor (sort of like Jon Pertwee without the gurning) into a complete bastard who it'd be impossible to like at all. And yet it still works.

Peter Cushing is the reason to watch this film. To be honest, the plot itself isn't one of the best of the series, for the most part seemingly rehashing the basic premise of the superior "Revenge of Frankenstein", with Frankenstein back to conventional brain swapping, working with a foppish aide in various cellars, and a "monster" with an identity crisis. There are several plot strands working at once and not all of them really work (a duo of police inspectors investigate proceedings for the first hour or so, decide to go and find the Baron, and then are seemingly forgotten, never appearing again), and the monster stuff seems to have been chucked in as an afterthought.

However, the development of the actual core character is far more interesting, and one doesn't really mind the plot taking a back seat. One thing that becomes increasingly clear when watching these Hammer Frankenstein films is that they do actually have clear progression for the character of Frankenstein himself, which surprised me quite a bit. From being a young, cold scientist, through to a slightly nicer, though still rather unethical, sort, and finally settling down to become nicer still, by the time of this film he's completely gone and lost his humanity. The real monster of this film is Frankenstein himself, colder, more cunning, more manipulative and nastier than ever before. He no longer smiles, he sneers. He seems to hate everybody, using people as puppets for as long as they are useful to him - compare his relationship with his assistant here to that he shared with Thorley Walters in "Created Woman". Though he's killed before, never has it seemed as off-hand and easy for him as it does here, with several stabbings and decapitations being put down to his handiwork. And then of course there's the infamous rape scene.

In the sort of scene which I would never have expected Peter Cushing to be a part of, Frankenstein spies on Anna, the girlfriend (if I remember rightly) of his unwilling assistant Karl, as she stands in her bedroom in her nightie, and then continues to walk in, lock the door, and, yes, rape her. Though the camera cuts away before the actual act itself, there's enough physical contact and such to know what the end result would have been. It's the most harrowing scene Cushing's ever had to perform, and the long stretch of time he spends just staring at Anna cranks up the tension more than any other Hammer horror has ever managed to do. Incidentally, this scene was added to the film as a complete afterthought when shooting had almost finished, as it was considered by the distributors that the film as it was didn't have enough sex in it. Quite why a rape scene was judged as an acceptable addition I don't know (rather than, say, a random spot of nudity or an appearance by a randy courting couple), but the inclusion of it, though making for uncomfortable viewing, really does advance the character of Frankenstein himself and shows how depraved he has become, and how much emotion he now lacks. Peter Cushing and Veronica Carlson understandably didn't want to do it at all. If I may nick a quote from Veronica Carlson in "The Peter Cushing Companion" -

"Peter didn't want to do it. He took me to dinner one evening to discuss it but it didn't make the scene any easier. I couldn't refuse to do it. Terence Fisher (the director) was very understanding but it was totally humiliating. Every alternative was more vulgar than the last... Terry just said 'Cut, that's it,' and turned away. Peter and I just stayed there and held on to each other."

This does explain why, after this scene, Anna doesn't seem to act any differently around Frankenstein compared to before the rape, as most subsequent scenes were filmed earlier on. I suppose the validity of the scene's inclusion depends upon each individual viewer. Ironically, the scene was cut from American prints.

Though the film is incredibly dark, there is some vague delight to be had at actor spotting. For your Doctor Who fans there's George Pravda (who appeared in three stories, best remembered as Spandrell in "The Deadly Assassin") and the chap who played Dr. Warlock from "Pyramids of Mars". Then there's also Windsor "It Ain't Half Hot Mum" Davies as a policeman, and Thorley Walters as the chief inspector with Geoffrey Bayldon as his wonderfully cynical aide. The latter partnership provides the only comedy to be had in the whole feature, and it's a shame that they have no bearing on the story at all.

There's not much more I can say about this film, really. It's a very good story, and I've left most of it for you to discover. Beware however that it's not a rosy-cheeked bit of "so bad it's good" fun, and may actually disturb and even frighten you to some extent. It should definitely be near the top of any Peter Cushing fans' list of films to see.

She (I) (1965)

Cushing does his Funky Thang. Or something.

[3/10 · 12 March 2005]

"She" is a Sunday afternoon adventure film. It's got all of the ingredients; cheap production values, a wafer-thin plot, the same bit of music replayed ad-nauseam, and Bernard Cribbins. It's also, unfortunately, not very good, simply because it's dull. Very dull. At a 1 hour and 41 minutes running time, "She" struggles to find a way to keep its story going, and barely succeeds.

The opening scene is good for a few laughs, featuring scientist/explorer type chappy Peter Cushing and his lovable manservant Bernie Cribbins (yup, that fabulous starring duo from "Daleks Invasion Earth: 2150 AD" is back), accompanied by some curly haired twerp played by John Richardson (no, I don't know who he is either), sitting down in a bustling bazaar somewhere in Africa in the year 1918, Cushing enjoying the native dancing girls to a rather amusing degree (cue a "By jove!" or two). Watched by a not-very-blacked-up actor, the three have a chat about what they want to do now that the war has ended. The observant shifty Arab wanders off and brings back a nice looking foreign gal, and soon enough one of our British heroes (John) is wandering over to make his acquaintance and spout some dire courting dialogue such as "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be left alone in a place like this," and "Ustane? The name is just as beautiful as you are..." Soon he's told to meet her at a street corner later that evening, and so the first stage in a treacherous trap is set.

Not that you'll have been paying attention to any of this as during their little conversation somebody told Peter Cushing to stand up and do some belly dancing with the girls (luckily, unlike them, he keeps his shirt on). He and Bernard Cribbins both prove themselves to be a couple of swingers for a short time before a punch up about a kicked in bowler that gets them thrown out.

I'd just like to stress this - Peter Cushing belly dancing. Peter Cushing. Belly dancing.

*gibber*

Anyway, after one of the scariest moments in a British film, the "plot" continues as John meets the girl and gets promptly knocked out by the shifty Arab who doesn't appear again. He awakes in a sumptuous looking pad and meets Ayesha (better known as She Who Must be Obeyed, but that doesn't sound as appealing, frankly). Now here we come to one of the problems about these sorts of films, where the plot hinges upon the fact that the leading lady is presented to be the most desirable woman in the world. It happens here, in Richard Burton's "Dr. Faustus", in any number of Ingrid Pitt lesbian vampire flicks. The trouble is, and this is of course down to personal taste, I don't find Ms. Andress particularly attractive. She's an OK looking gal, but I've never been one for the whole "Mysterious and alluring femme fatal" type, which means I can rarely communicate with the leading male characters who instantly fall in love with said femme fatal and are willing to give up everything to be with them forever. The same applies here. Maybe it's because John Richardson plays it so blank throughout, I don't know. But when he gets set a long journey across the desert to locate a forgotten city and instantly agrees before going for his fourth snog, I was getting a trifle cynical, sounding more or less as I do writing this review.

Fortunately we're soon back with Cushing and Cribbins, who *un*fortunately seem to do very little in this film - it's mainly concerned with the boring decisions of Richardson and the love triangle he gets himself into (not with Cribbins and Cushing, no, with She and serving girl Ustane - though the former would have made for a far more interesting feature at the very least). The journey, all mix n' fade shots of our intrepid/insipid travellers looking weary and swigging from water gourds, gets tedious quickly, and a quick assault from rifle waving desert chaps doesn't cause much of a stir either. I won't say too much more about the story, but you'll probably find yourself, as I did, guessing what events and problems will befall Cushing and the gang about five minutes before said events happen - and about 80% of the time you'll be right.

The cast have probably made this film more memorable than it should be. As well as Andress, Cushing and Cribbins, watch out for Christopher Lee in a rather small role as a high priest (and, just as in "The Mummy", he gets to wear another stupid hat during a ceremony), and Andre Morell (Watson in Hammer's "Hound of the Baskervilles). Actually, the presence of Morell provoked some amusement for me. I've got so used to the "Oh, that actor's in..." game that now I'm so sad as to be able to a) recognise a 50s/60s actor even when under make up, b) recognise said actor even when his voice has been dubbed by a *different* actor, and c) recognise the voice of the actor doing the dubbing! So, though Andre Morell, a terribly English actor, appears as the chief of a primitive tribe, it is not his plummy tones that emanate from his mouth but those of swarthy foreigner actor George Pastell, better known to us Doctor Who fans as madman and swarthy foreigner Eric Kleig from "Tomb of the Cybermen" (and as the fez wearing swarthy foreigner who brings "The Mummy" back to life in Hammer's earlier monster movie).

101 minutes goes by very slowly, with yet more swarthy foreigners and a certain very old flame, and you'll probably greet the final caption with a yawn and a stretching of limbs to combat rheumatism. "She" isn't a particularly bad film, but it's just boring. Even a showing of some top notch British talent can't save it. And nor can a belly dancing Peter Cushing.

4/10

Sharon's Baby (1975)

Ron Grainer does porn

[7/10 · 7 March 2005]

Well stone me, what a farce. I actually enjoyed this film.

It certainly is, as somebody a long time ago said, a game of three halves. The first half hour or so is laughably bad, and had me chuckling throughout. Then the tone shifts slightly and you find yourself actually getting vaguely interested into what on Earth's going on and where it could all possibly be leading. And then the last thirty minutes are genuinely disturbing, with some rather scary bits in there and a few set pieces that you won't have seen coming. All in all, rather absorbing.

The plot itself sounds like something cobbled together from "The Exorcist" and "The Omen" (despite the latter film being released the year after, but stay with me). Joan Collins (?!) plays a woman (good show) who's given birth to an "evil" child, who spends the film apparently viciously assaulting people whilst those of the religious faith find it all terribly intriguing. The scenes of the aforementioned child attacking people are usually quite laughable, usually comprising of somebody leaning close to it, recoiling in horror clutching their cheek and moaning "It bit me!", followed by a shot of a not particularly frightening little child looking frankly bewildered at the fact that he's in a film. Ah ha, but the baby has "Surprising strength for his age," we are told, so that's all right then.

The rationale for all this, given to us as a flashback about 10-15 minutes in, is one of the funniest bits of the film. Joan's character used to be a stripper, and performed her acts with a small dancing midget who apparently fancied her like mad. On her last day of work, the midget toddles along to her dressing room and tries to feel her up, whereupon she screams and a spiv wanders in and tells the midget to get lost. The midget toddles away again and Joan and the spiv (her old boyfriend, and manager of the strip club) begin to make out, Joan switching from "horror-struck and upset" to "giggly and horny" in the space of three seconds. The whole scene looks like it was shot in one take, and is played so languidly to defy belief. Later that evening, as Joan leaves the club, the midget leaps out at her from the shadows and rather improbably cries "You shall have a devil child!!!" before scampering off again.

Quite why Joan (recounting the story to a bored-witless Caroline Munro) should assume that this is the only explanation for why her child has anger-management problems I have no idea. And quite why she turns out to be right is even more startling. Soon she starts seeing the baby transform into the very same gurning midget in the blink of an eye, and most of the deaths are accompanied by such supremely seminal camera work depicting the hands of the midget (hmm, now there's a title for a Hammer... "Hands of the Midget") groping around and punching people.

And this is just the basic premise of the story, all given within the first twenty minutes. From then on it's a whirlwind of the good and the bad. For the former we have Donald Pleasence giving a superbly understated performance as the doctor whom everybody seems to be seeking advice from (he actually seems like a doctor, somebody the makers had hired out from a surgery to appear in the film rather than just an actor, and it works wonderfully). The spiv, though a complete bounder, has a few amusing lines - "Said you'd come to me so I could cheer you up. I've got another six Irish jokes since we last met." Joan Collins, despite being a bit wooden at the beginning, actually gets better as the film progresses. And I was positively delighted by a cameo from Stanley Lebor, better known as lovable Howard in "Ever Decreasing Circles" (and, hurrah, a sitcom actor who actually survives the film - that's a rarity in the 70s). And then there's Pleasence with "I thought today was going to be normal routine, I didn't think I'd be discussing mysticism with an Italian nun." And then there's the laughably bad bits, including the rather shaky ground surrounding the "Midgets are evil" thing, the most unconvincing birth scene ever, in which Joan looks more as though she's being orally pleasured than having a child, and the gratuitous stripper scenes peppered about every so often which don't serve to do anything much at all ("Am I boring you?") In fact, various scenes of steamy romance and general sauciness seem to be chucked in just to give the film a higher rating - that's the only reason I can think of for a rather touching courting scene between Joan and blank-faced husband Ralph Bates (nice accent, Ralph) being followed up by the two of them having sweaty, fumbling sex whilst the melodious seedy music that we've been subjected to throughout the entire duration reaches a new low. And eyebrows will raise when you glance at the credits and see that this entire musical travesty (it really just sounds like porn music, I'm sorry) was composed by Ron Grainer, the man who composed the "Doctor Who" theme tune. Go Ron. You do your funky thang.

But yes, to sum it all up, "The Monster" (where "I Don't Want to be Born" comes from I have no idea, as it's not the title on the print) is at times a rather lopsided affair which manages to actually remain consistently entertaining throughout, whether by accident or by design. It's probably all a matter of taste, and maybe I just ended up liking it as it was nowhere near as bad as I thought it'd be, but it's a rather fun feature that does end on a few shocks. 7/10

Countess Dracula (1971)

Ingrid Pitt in non-lesbian non-vampire shocker. Or something.

[3/10 · 5 March 2005]

"Countess Dracula" is an odd film, though only in the light of all the myths and hype surrounding it. Taken on its own it's a very simple and mildly diverting little story that passes ninety minutes in an, at times, vaguely interesting way. It boasts some fine actors, including Maurice Denham (who Who fans will know as Azmael from "The Twin Dilemma", but he's done far better than that and this) and Peter Jeffrey (hurrah!) who are both in it quite a bit, though neither contribute much to the paper-thin plot.

Countess Elizabeth is an old woman who, whilst stringing along a fairly old lover, starts fancying a young general's son. After an accident she finds that the blood of young women can rejuvenate her skin and make her appear young again, and so she then poses as her own daughter (the real one of whom is locked up in a shed somewhere) in order to woo the young man and make love to him. However, it transpires that only the blood of young *virgin* women will do - will she be able to get enough of it? Well, let's get a few things straight - this is not another lesbian vampire film due to a) a complete lack of lesbians and b) a complete lack of vampires, the latter of which you would think would severely compromise its placing into a DVD set labelled "The Vampire Collection". I can only surmise that the chaps at Carlton looked at the title, saw that it was a Hammer with Ingrid Pitt in it and so shoved it into the DVD set based on that. So that's that out of the way. It also has some form of status as being an erotic horror; rubbish. Moments of passion are reduced to a few passionate snogs, and the nudity is almost coy, with a few breast shots here and there (there's more in various other horror films of the period - hell, there's more nudity in "Trail of the Pink Panther", and that's a bloody PG). Quite why this film gets an 18 certificate I don't know, as there's only one particularly violent scene towards the beginning, and that's a quick and bloodless stabbing. I might sound like I'm disappointed about all this - I'm not, I personally don't like violence that much, and, though I'm not against nudity in films, its not exactly the be all and end all of films either. It's just that it wasn't really the film I was expecting. There's some court intrigue going on which is vaguely interesting, but that's your lot. No sex, no nudity, no swearing, and hardly any violence. Not even one poxy vampire. So why on Earth is it an 18? I was geared up ready for the worst and it just didn't deliver in any real way, certainly not as a horror, and not even as a decent retelling of the life of the real Countess Elizabeth Bathory, upon which this film was (very loosely) based.

There's little similarity between the two countesses beyond the name and "bathed in blood." The real Countess only *believed* that blood made her appear more youthful - even if this were true, I doubt it would've done so to the same extent as shown here! It would have been more interesting if the Countess in this film had the same sort of mania, but no, it's all taken literally. The film also unfortunately rewrites the fate of the real Countess, which is silly as the alternative presented here is far less horrifying than the actual reality. When her crimes were found out, Bathory was placed inside a room which was then completely bricked up, save for a tiny slot through which food and water could be slid. She was never let out of that room, and actually survived for several years before she finally died (see, what wonderful trivia I've collected over the years). In comparison, the ending to this film is a damp squib. OK, it's a Hammer horror, these hardly ever stick close to their original source material. But when the original real life story was more horrifying than the supposed horror film adaptation of it then something's gone wrong somewhere.

Oh, and Ingrid Pitt is dubbed all the way through in a far nicer and lighter voice than her real one. But that's just me. I've just never found her that attractive m'self. Ahem.

By all means watch it, there's nothing intrinsically wrong with it. But don't go in there expecting a vampire film, nor an erotic thriller. If people wandering around in period dress murmuring to each other is your thing though, then this is the film for you. 5/10

The Uncanny (1977)

I tawt I taw a puddy tat a-cweeping up on me...

[4/10 · 2 March 2005]

No spoilers.

Well. Hmm. "The Uncanny" is another one of Milton "Amicus" Subotsky's anthology horrors, with a premise that at least has some form of interest and introduction (unlike, say, "Vault of Horror", in which Terry-Thomas prompts random people stuck in a lift with him to talk about their dreams - "Why don't you tell us about it?"). Basically, a rather nervous Peter Cushing visits a publisher to talk about his latest book proposal which will apparently deliver a very important message to us all - "Cats have been exploiting human beings for centuries!" Yes, Cushing believes that cats are going to take over and kill us all. No, really.

"The Uncanny" isn't a bad film per-se, it's just a bit lacking somehow. Maybe it's the fact that it only has three stories (the other Amicus ones tend to have four or five) and so each little tale seems far more drawn out than it really needs to be. It's also very varied in tone, and doesn't seem to completely know what it's really doing. Once it's finished you don't really sit back and think "That was rather good," nor "That was bloody dire." You just realise that 85 minutes of your life has gone by (or 105 minutes if you had a rather nice and loving phone call part way through - hurrah! But enough about my life...).

The first story concerns Joan Greenwood deciding to leave all the money in her will to her many cats rather than her nephew. Fortunately for him, Greenwood's maid also happens to be his girlfriend, and she's more than willing to get into her mistress's safe and destroy the copy of the will. However, when she's discovered, she has to do something rather unpleasant (the most disturbing part of the film for me, and the cats had nothing to do with it) and then faces the consequences via a long (a very, *very* long) spot of kitty revenge. Though it's horrendously padded (complete with a flashback to, bizarrely, an alternative take of an earlier scene), it does at least make the cats rather terrifying, which is something. There are actually quite a few repulsive moments in it, and there's far more horror in this segment alone than during the whole of, for instance, "Vampire Circus."

Cushing's publisher seems unimpressed however and decides to put his cat out instead. Cushing regales him with another story, furtively scratching around in his big folder of official looking documents. "Ah yes, Lucy..."

Second story has very little horror in it aside from some rather ghastly accents that appear to contain traces of RP English, Canadian and various bits of American. There's also a little snot of a girl who finds it amusing to taunt her cousin about the fact that her parents died in a plane crash (chases her with a toy plane, "Your don't have any parents! You don't have anybody! Ha ha ha!" - you know the type). Unfortunately for the spiteful little cow, her placid looking cousin has more to her than meets the eye. The only thing remarkable about this segment is the staggering ineptness of her aunt and uncle of looking after her, which includes burning almost all of her possessions (including a photograph of her with her mother)! Good grief! No wonder the poor little soul has issues. Oh, and there is a cat in it, but it doesn't do a lot, and seems pretty amiable really.

Third story stars Donald Pleasence as a creepy little git, and is introduced by Cushing handing his publisher a stock photo from "You Only Live Twice" (Pleasence as Blofeld holding his fluffy white cat), which will probably amuse somebody. Cushing's now gone into nervous overdrive, wringing his hands and exclaiming "It was the cat that did it!" A story set in 1930s Hollywood in which real devices of medieval torture are used on the actors (with the hilarious, yet seriously-delivered, "explanation" from a detective that goes "Well sir, there seems to have been a little mix up in your props department..."), it's all rather dull with yet more dodgy accents and, at one point, some misplaced slapstick and comedy music. Pleasence's character (who likes to swap puns before sex) goes to great lengths to attempt to kill his recently-deceased wife's cat (having flushed its kittens down the toilet - bastard), which, in return, goes to great lengths to make things difficult for him. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Ha ha ha... oh."

And after all this, what have we learnt? Well, you'll have to watch it and find out. Or better yet, don't bother and watch something actually halfway decent. Not even fun in a sort of "So bad it's good," way, "The Uncanny" is a dull, listless and at times thoroughly unpleasant little film that is best avoided - and Cushing's only in it for about 10 minutes, so it's not even worth watching for him. Best avoided, really.