60's American Horror Part Eleven

THE LEECH WOMAN

(1960)

Dir - Edward Dein

Overall: MEH

 

A forgettable, late monster entry for Universal Pictures' B-level branch, The Leech Woman has all of the typical, overtly-talky pratfalls of such dramas with dated cultural aspects thrown in for "good" measure.  This includes Hollywood's steadfast, insensitive depiction of natives who are seen as half naked, tribal primitives that will kill any white people who discover their ancient secret of rejuvenation and eternal youth.  This plays off of the particularly superficial characters who treat Coleen Gray as an annoyance at best and a leper at worst, unless she is temporarily rendered beautiful and irresistible after working the African mojo on herself, which naturally comes at the price of murdering people.  While there is plenty going on for a campy drive-in movie, everyone on screen is unlikable, several to a comical extent where their short-sided, vain behavior makes them difficult to relate to on any logical level.  Pacing wise, it is a chore to sit through and the old, withered makeup effects are awful, unconvincing, and not at all frightening if that was actually the intention.  In this regard, it barely belongs in the horror genre in the first place and serves a far greater purpose as mock-fodder for Mystery Science Theater 3000, which of course it was.

 

THE DISMEMBERED

(1962)

Dir - Ralph S. Hirshorn

Overall: MEH

An independent, Philadelphia-shot oddity and the lone full-length directorial effort from Ralph S. Hirshorn, The Dismembered is a long forgotten/barely remembered, regional cross between Roger Corman cheapies, sitcom humor, and local theater acting and production values.  The movie had a limited release in its own area, only to disappear for five decades before getting randomly unearthed in 2017.  Hardly any of the personnel on board went on to greater or better things, (if they went on to anything at all), but the results are actually more competent than one would expect from something that was allegedly made for less than $5,000.  Things begin far more hilariously than they continue with self-depreciating opening credits that clearly announce that the filmmakers were in on their own quirky joke, a joke that was done far outside the confines of Hollywood.  Sadly, the pacing takes a hefty drop after this with a monotonous structure involving a democratically organized stable of ghosts who have various sit-down meetings as to how they should deal with the small gang of criminals that are holding up in their cemetery-adjacent haunted house.  It has some spooky atmosphere here or there which mostly stems from the sound design, but it is far more charming as a curiosity than as a properly engaging movie.

PICTURE MOMMY DEAD

(1966)

Dir - Bert I. Gordon

Overall: MEH

The final directorial effort of the 1960s from Bert I. Gordon, Picture Mommy Dead is a snoozer with a derivative script involving unwholesome characters backstabbing each other in various fashions over a hefty inheritance that is tied up in legal formalities.  This includes grown child star Susan Gordon who returns from a convent years after her mother died in a fire, only to find her dad, former governess-turned-mother-in-law, and a butler with half a burnt face all clamoring for money while being in one-sided love with each other.  Of course Gordon immediately starts to question her sanity as a number of hallucinations occur where she sees her dead mother who keeps pointing her in the direction of a swanky, diamond necklace that everybody else on screen eventually seems obsessed with locating as well.  Don Ameche, Martha Hyer, and Zsa Zsa Gabor round out the familiar faces with Wendell Corey making an obnoxious cameo as an unnecessarily rude lawyer who unintelligibly mumbles all of his dialog.  There is a fair amount of lost potential to do something more spooky with the large, Gothic estate that the entire film is set in, plus the eventual reveals in Robert Sherman's overly-talky screenplay are not even silly enough to provide some unintended chuckles.

60's American Horror Part Ten

TORMENTED

(1960)

Dir - Bert I. Gordon

Overall: MEH

 

A conventional and dopey, psychological B-movie from writer/director/producer Bert I. Gordon, Tormented delivers some silly scares within its elementary yet sensationalized plot.  It is a more intimate, stripped-down affair coming from Gordon who had previously made a name for himself with special effects showcases like The Amazing Colossal Man, Earth vs. the Spider, and Attack of the Puppet People.  Though there is effects work here as well, it comes off as laughable by involving a floating head or crawling hand from a recently deceased mistress who, (as the title would suggest), spends the entire film "tormenting" her former lover that is about to marry another woman.  Accompanying such set pieces is a random hodgepodge of stock music, with blaring, up-tempo jazz causing a particularly clashing effect when things are supposed to be suspenseful.  Granted Richard Carlson of Creature from the Black Lagoon fame plays a jazz pianist so maybe the daft soundtrack choices were intentional, but they come off as no more or less inappropriate than in any other cheapie drive-in movie from the era.  Other unintentional laughs like an obnoxious beatnik blackmailer who calls everyone "dad" every three seconds, a blind housekeeper, and uncomfortable tension between Carlson and his wife-to-be's kid sister may provide enough campy fun for some viewers.

GAMES

(1967)

Dir - Curtis Harrington

Overall: MEH

 

Featuring early performances from both James Caan and Katherine Ross as an upper-class couple engaging in various acts of frivolous boredom that of course goes horribly awry, the simply titled Games backs itself into a predictable corner with its twists-on-top-of-twists framework.  A much different follow-up for filmmaker Curtis Harrington whose previous Queen of Blood was one of the many sensationalized, drive-in genre offerings of the day to be distributed by American International Pictures, this one plays out as an elongated Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode with a dash of classic domestic financial manipulation thrown in.  It is likely no accident that Les Diaboliques's Simone Signoret appears as the plot here bares several similarities to said landmark, French psychological horror film from Henri-Georges Clouzot.  In fact it is too similar in structure to various other movies where a woman is clearly being driven mad by the main characters around her, (usually the husband), which unfortunately dilutes the suspense-laden impact of the final act.  The one-hundred minute running time is also problematic as if feels cluttered with unnecessary filler, so the whole thing could have been punchier if told in a more compact manner.

DAUGHTER OF THE MIND

(1969)

Dir - Walter Grauman

Overall: GOOD

 

This ABC Movie of the Week adaptation of Paul Gallico's 1964 novel The Hand of Mary Constable explores the usual angle of how supernatural activity emotionally effects hard-edged skeptics who are particularly susceptible to its influence, yet it also uniquely mixes it with Cold War conspiracy.  Daughter of the Mind was one of many television films from director Walter Grauman and he keeps up an impressively brisk pace for something that is heavily talky and low on action.  Ray Milland's grieving father is a wonderfully two-dimensional character who is a career cybernetic expert that is not prone to taking ghostly activity at face value.  So, when his daughter presumably returns from the grave with vague warnings pertaining to his national security-sensitive work, he enlists someone who can utilize paranormal pseudo-science to get to the bottom of things.  Some room-tapping government agents, sleeper spies, and foreign mystics later, it all uncovers a satisfyingly convoluted series of events that is played straight enough as to not become ridiculous.  Perhaps the only downside for horror enthusiasts is that the would-be spooky bits do not convey a chilling atmosphere, but the presentation is compelling enough to keep the audience guessing.

60's American Horror Part Nine

HUSH...HUSH, SWEET CHARLOTTE

(1964)

Dir - Robert Aldrich

Overall: GOOD

Though not as ghastly as What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, Robert Aldrich and Bette Davis' follow-up Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte is still a solid companion piece exploring similar themes of family jealous, greed, and two-timing.  An adaptation of Henry Farrell's story "What Ever Happened to Cousin Charlotte?", (Farrell also having authored the Baby Jane novel), the film was initially set to star Joan Crawford as well, though her dysfunctional feud with Davis and alleged illness at the time made producers hesitant to combine oil and water twice, thus Olivia de Havilland took over Crawford's part.  As a Southern Gothic thriller, it has the quintessential antebellum mansion occupied for decades by Davis' nutty spinster, with town gossip, an unsolved murder with shady suspicions attached to it, plus lifelong grudges all coming to the surface.  Davis does the crazy old lady thing once again, though hers is a much more sympathetic and tragic character than the title role that she played in Baby Jane, with de Havviland and Joseph Cotton being the conniving pair behind most of the shenanigans.  The running time is excessive, but the movie is beautifully photographed and Aldrich knows how to get the most out of the sensationalized material.

 

TWO ON A GUILLOTINE

(1965)

Dir - William Conrad

Overall: MEH

The first of three films by Warner Bros. to be produced and directed by William Conrad in a foolhearted attempt to try and recapture the camp of William Castle movies minus the showmanship, Two on a Guillotine has one or two spooky bits, a brief yet scenery-chewing performance from Cesar Romero, and a laughably stupid mystery reveal, but otherwise it is an overly-long, lifeless slog.  Both star Connie Stevens and composer Max Steiner did not think highly of the finished project and it is indeed easy to dismiss it as lackluster fluff.  Many of the plot points are stock, such as Stevens and Dean Jones' budding romance which kicks off under false pretenses on Jones' part, all supernatural elements being mere red herrings, the accusations of certain parties only being interested in a dead guy's inheritance, the cockamamie set-up of Stevens having to spend seven nights in a "haunted" house in order to get said inheritance, etc.  Though all of the pieces are there for a Castle-esque bit of macabre goofiness, there are no clever tweaks to the formula, the script is padded, and Conrad does not lean into the schlock value enough to elevate it.

SHE FREAK

(1967)

Dir - Byron Mabe

Overall: WOOF

Answering the question that nobody anywhere ever asked as to what Tod Browning's Freaks would be like if half of the running time was nothing but real life carnival montages set to bad jazz music and the entire thing was made by somebody who does not know what movies are, She Freak is as bad as filmmaking ever gets.  Writer/producer David F. Friedman claimed that this was a deliberate, unofficial remake of Browning's seminal, oddball classic, but even though the "narrative" is unrecognizable from it, they at least tossed in the same book-ending segments which come off as a mere afterthought.  Every character on screen patiently waits for every other character to slowly enunciate all of their wretched, smart-ass dialog with an over the top, southern drawl, all of which makes every scene feel like it is nine hours long.  If the viewer does not seriously contemplate suicide while listening to one tortuously unnatural monologue after the other, worry not because absolutely nothing happens throughout the whole film and everyone on screen is either instantly forgettable or in the case of Claire Brennen's smirking protagonist, just pointlessly awful.  In fact "pointlessly awful" is the ideal tagline for this entire dung heap.

60's American Horror Part Eight

THE NAKED WITCH

(1964)

Dir - Larry Buchanan/Claude Alexander

Overall: MEH

 

Part D-rent nudie flick, part Häxan remake, The Naked Witch is the only collaboration between Claude Alexander and schlock-peddler Larry Buchanan, the former never garnishing a single credit on another movie again.  The first half is almost entirely a narrated history of witchcraft done by both an uncredited Gary Owens and the film's "star" Robert Short who takes over recanting his own tale of running across the title lady in a German Texas town while researching his thesis paper.  After that, the pacing takes a substantial plunge as bad organ music plays through scene after scene of Libby Hall staring into the camera, bathing in a stream, dancing around, or frolicking with her shirtless new college student friend.  The finale is laughably abrupt and anticlimactic, (Short yells at Hall to not kill another girl, she falls down, the end), but considering that this film was made for no other purpose than to have a tantalizing title as to scam a few bucks off of unsuspecting movie-goers, one should not be expecting much.  At least the comparatively more fun and campy elements are presented up front as to not render the entire thing an insulting waste of time.

BLOOD BATH

(1966)

Dir - Jack Hill/Stephanie Rothman

Overall: MEH

 

In the seemingly endless list of Roger Corman financed vehicles that were slapdash efforts of older, often foreign films spliced together with newly shot footage, Blood Bath, (Track of the Vampire), is one of the most legendarily mangled.   Corman purchased the rights to an unfinished Yugoslavian spy thriller called Operation: Titian, but he found it to be unreleasable.  Therefore, he hired Jack Hill to rewrite and film several new scenes, changing the title to the one that would eventually stick.  Yet hilariously, this still was not good enough for Corman who then had Stephanie Rothman shoot yet more scenes which changed the narrative even further since lead actor William Campbell refused to come back for a third time, forcing the production to explain his character's change of appearance.  Oh, and when the movie was sold to television, Rothman added still MORE scenes to pad it out past its theatrically released, sixty-two minute running time.  As one could guess, the final result is a mess of continuity errors and narrative confusion, but astonishingly, it is not a complete trainwreck.  Some of the sequences are chilling, the performances are decent, and it has an understandable off-kilter charm that mixes Corman's earlier A Bucket of Blood with cinematic vampire and witch trial tropes.

FEAR NO EVIL

(1969)

Dir - Paul Wendkos

Overall: MEH

The first of two pilots which in turn became television movies for NBC, (the following year's Ritual of Evil serving as the sequel), Fear No Evil is a laborious and slow example of the post Rosemary's Baby boom of occult films which were turned out in droves across continents and with various budgets.  Writer/producer Richard Alan Simmons adapted a story by Guy Endore with familiar elements like a cursed mirror and a clandestine black magic cult whose members are essentially bored, financially stable white people looking to summon demons for a hoot.  Louis Jourdan plays one of only two characters who appear in each film, a suave psychiatrist who cracks the code of what is going on.  Unfortunately, what in fact is going on is horrendously paced and ergo boring.  The supernatural sequences are few and far between and not at all creepy when they do arrive, mostly involving Lynda Day George merely staring into a mirror where her recently dead fiance makes out with her.  With so much talking revolved around such an uninteresting mystery with formulaic ingredients, there is very little here to recommend it above far better works of the era that involved diabolical witchcraft.

60's American Horror Part Seven

DEAD RINGER

(1964)

Dir - Paul Henreid

Overall: GOOD

The penultimate theatrical film to be directed by Paul Henreid, Dead Ringer, (Who Is Buried in My Grave?), continues Bette Davis' career revival in the psycho-biddy sub-genre post Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?.  Here, Davis plays a set of identical twins which she had also done eighteen years prior for A Stolen Life, with said movie's cinematographer Ernest Haller likewise returning.  Though mislabeled as horror and far more in line with intricately plotted noir, it serves as a remake to the 1945 Mexican film La Orta and has some of the usual noir tropes in place; a smokey nightclub, an infidelity murder scheme, a police inspector love interest, etc.  In place of the traditional femme fatale, Davis gets to excel in a more restrained performance as both the down on her luck, mistreated sibling and her conniving sister, with their role reversal serving as the main sense of tension as to how long she can keep up such a doomed-to-fail charade.  Cleverly, things unfold in a combination of both the obvious and the unexpected and though Davis' character arc is melodramatic enough, it is also well-rounded and leads to a satisfyingly dour finale.

 

DARK INTRUDER

(1965)

Dir - Harvey Hart

Overall: GOOD

Shot as a failed television pilot for a series to be called The Black Cloak, (and done by Alfred Hitchcock's production company), Dark Intruder was instead re-edited and released theatrically by Universal Pictures even though it has a running time of only fifty-nine minutes.  Brisk and to the point then, veteran TV director Harvey Hart keeps things moving agreeably and the period, 1890 San Fransisco's dark alleys are bathed in fog, giving it a Jack the Ripper type feel that is inherent in the actual material where a mysterious murderer is on the loose in dark attire where nobody can see his face.  Another working television personality in Leslie Nielsen is in the lead, perfectly cast as a wise-cracking occult expert who intentionally defuses his sarcastic wit to unveil the diabolical mystery afoot.  They also gave him a dwarf-sized butler in typical sidekick fashion.  The Mr. Hyde-styled makeup work is impressive and suitably monstrous, plus British-born screenwriter Barré Lyndon's screenplay dishes out the twists in a well-oiled manner.  All in all it is a gripping, well-acted, and atmospheric work, inadvertently fitting into Universal's Gothic horror heyday except just done several decades later.

 

MANOS: THE HANDS OF FATE

(1966)

Dir - Harold P. Warren

Overall: WOOF

 

Rightfully lingering in obscurity for decades and just as rightfully resurrected by Mystery Science Theater 3000 nearly thirty years after it was made, Manos: The Hands of Fate is a quintessential anti-masterpiece for the ages.  Following in the Ed Wood tradition of having one man to blame for all of its incompetence, the "film" was done on a bet by an insurance and fertilizer salesman Harold P. Warren in El Paso, Texas; a bet with the actual professional screenwriter Stirling Silliphant that horror movies are not that hard to make.  Warren certainly showed him, (or the other way around), as his lone written/directed/produced/stared-in cinematic exploit is a gem of "What in the goddamn fuck?!?" filmmaking.  A lack of proper coverage and no sound equipment on set gives way to inconsistent editing and audio, inconsequential cutaways to random characters are used to pad out the running time, each sequence consists of awkward actors having no idea what to do while Warren fails to say "Cut", the atrocious dialog is repeated literally verbatim at times, cliches are used in the most lazy of manners, and the plotting and character behavior is as illogical as you can imagine.  Sleaze, laughable melodrama, all the stupidity, plus Torgo the caretaker of course and this clueless abomination has the necessary goods and then some when it comes to being gloriously terrible.

60's American Horror Part Six

THE GHOST OF SIERRA DE COBRE

(1964)

Dir - Joseph Stefano

Overall: MEH

The lone directorial effort from screenwriter Joseph Stefano, The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre was one of the strangest made-for-television films of the 1960s.  It was initially done as a pilot for an Outer Limits type anthology series for CBS to be called Haunted, but in its feature-length, eighty-minute form, it is a clashing watch.  Stefano's script is clumsy as it introduces a few unnecessary components while feeling poorly fleshed-out at the same time.  Martin Landau, Judith Anderson, and Diane Baker, (all of whom had appeared in Alfred Hitchcock films as Stefano likewise had a connection to the master of suspense, having penned the screenplay for Psycho), give the material a solid try, but Landau seems tuned out while both Anderson and Baker give way to inconsistent, dramatic mannerisms in the final act.  Stefano's direction is the oddest aspect though as he lingers on certain shots for a noticeably prolonged time, fills some scenes with terribly over-blow music while others play to dead silence, and makes inconsequential cuts at regular intervals.  Some of the supernatural set pieces are excellently handled as well as being befitting to the overall oddball presentation, but the rest of the movie is too off-kilter to work.

 

BRAINSTORM

(1965)

Dir - William Conrad

Overall: MEH

 

Willingly ignoring the way that logical thinking and professional conduct works in the real world, William Conrad's neo-noir thriller Brainstorm stumbles to its inevitably cynical conclusion.  The third of three such films that Conrad produced and directed for Warner Bros. all within a single year, it has a sincere presentation despite a script that does not understand how insanity pleas work and also thinks that truth serum is a real thing.  This gives it a strange tone where its absurd aspects are presented matter-of-factly, leaving one to wonder if Conrad and screenwriter Mann Rubin were conducting some sort of sly joke on their audience.  Despite an intriguing and genuinely heart-racing opening scene, the rest of the story's outcome is broadcast from the get-go where we realize what is going to happen long before the characters do.  Speaking of characters, some of them disappear for long enough periods of time to wonder if handfuls of their scenes had to be trimmed off the running time, a running time which already feels bloated at a hundred and five minutes.  Whether this was meant to be a tense and clever depiction of a sucker duped by a femme fatale or just some B-movie silliness disguised as a prestige work, a mess is still a mess.

 

SECONDS

(1966)

Dir - John Frankenheimer

Overall: GOOD

Another highly effective thriller from the very much in his prime director John Frankenheimer, Seconds continues some of the clandestine operation shenanigans explored in his masterpiece The Manchurian Candidate, except here the focus is much more on a personal, human level as opposed to a political one.  This was famed screenwriter Lewis John Carlino's first credit for a full-length film, adapting David Ely's novel of the same name.  It is also one of the last works from cinematographer James Wong Howe whose deep-focus, handheld, and actor-mounted camera work is a certifiable highlight.  In an eerily potent role, famously closeted Rock Hudson is superb as a man who lives a false life that was artificially created for him.  His struggles with the manipulated yet selfish need to escape both the reality that he made for himself and the one that he was given at considerable cost both represent a deeply psychological look into the struggle with one's identity and mortality.  The mood is quietly tense throughout, with the frightening finale seeming wholly earned after a build-up with its fare share of surprises, such as a hedonistic, full-frontal nude sequence and more of Howe's unusual and effective cinematic techniques.

60's American Horror Part Five

NIGHT TIDE

(1961)

Dir - Curtis Harrington

Overall: MEH

Though he had been making short films as far back as 1942, Night Tide serves as Curtis Harrington's full-length, independent debut which was not theatrically released until two years after it was finished.  One can see direct, personal parallels with Harrinton's homosexuality to a story about an orphaned woman growing up as a side-show attraction who was raised to "not have normal relationships with normal people" by her lonely, jealous, and adopted guardian.  This results in Linda Lawson's mysterious "mermaid" Mora being an outsider who has become confused with her own natural feelings that are at odds with her manipulated upbringing.  Such subtext is ultimately more interesting than the movie itself though.  Harrington does not have the directorial chops to break up the monotony of the plot which is stagnant at regular intervals.  Dennis Hopper is good as a likeable Navy cadet even if his initial, pushy passes at Lawson have not aged particularly well.  Some of the more startling images are undermined by noticeably bottom-end production values, including an unintentionally hilarious dream sequence where Hopper is attacked by a giant stuffed animal octopus while pretending to be terrified by it.  Still, this is a curious footnote in early New Queer Cinema for those who may want to seek it out.

 

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?

(1962)

Dir - Robert Aldrich

Overall: GOOD

 

The legendarily nightmarish What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? kick-started the psycho-biddy sub-genre, (which was never done better than here), and also provided career revivals for Bette Davis and Joan Crawford.  Equally famous for both its melodramatic infamy as well as the real life rivalry between its aged stars, it would be a mere footnote in Hollywood lore if not for the fact that it holds up so well as a darkly comedic thriller of the wackadoo variety.  Davis turns in one of the screen's most memorably loony performances as the title character who is like a dialed-up, off her meds Norma Desmond.  Whether she is pathetically wallowing in delusion or gleefully torturing her sister, she delivers the chills through and through.  Crawford is equally excellent in the infinitely more sympathetic role of Blanche Hudson and the two make arguably the most dysfunctional sibling pair in any movie.  Lukas Heller's screenplay, (which is an adaptation of Henry Farrell's novel of the same name), has a couple of purposely aggravating close-calls where the audience is likely to yell at Crawford for not seizing her early opportunities to escape.  Yet Robert Aldrich's direction overcomes such mild grievances by being enjoyably macabre and heavy on the suspense.

MY BLOOD RUNS COLD

(1965)

Dir - William Conrad

Overall: MEH

The second of three thriller films produced and directed by William Conrad that were released in 1965, My Blood Runs Cold is notable for featuring heartthrob actor Troy Donahue in an against type role as an aloof, villainous conman who is also several sandwiches short of a picnic.  Donahue's character goes from annoyingly stubborn and standoffish to inexplicably irresistible to Joey Heatherton protagonist with daddy issues, all before sleepwalking through his eventual bouts of violent mania.  It is not so much that Donahue is bad in the part, it is more that he does not have anywhere interesting to go with it due to John Mantley's script which deals with simple minded, psychological cliches.  The movie is also almost entirely without action, making it a heavily talky affair that grows more tiring as everyone behaves like stereotypes out of a therapist's playbook.  Things get unintentionally silly by the end which compounds the plot holes, features Heatherton laying it on pretty thick, and a final set piece on top of a sand plant that is more stupid than tragic.  Everything looks slick and is taken seriously for a B-picture at least, but the components are definitely lacking in quality.

60's British Horror Part Sixteen

THE TELL-TALE HEART

(1960)

Dir - Ernest Morris

Overall: MEH

 

While it cannot overcome its monotonous structure due to minuscule production values, producers Edward J. and Harry Lee Danzinger's very loose adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart still achieves a decent amount of gripping intensity under the circumstances.  The source material is completely reworked, with a Poe stand-in played by Laurence Payne being an sexually frustrated eccentric who becomes obsessed with his neighbor, only to loose her to the throws of passion from his noticeably more suave and charming best friend.  Things head in an inevitable direction and the movie opens with a scene that is replayed later on just to slam home the case, plus anyone familiar with Poe's famous story even in its heavily bastardized form here will sense the macabre outcome in advance.  Still, Payne goes all in with a manic, sweaty, Oliver Reed worthy performance and director Ernest Morris uses the pounding heartbeat sound effect over deafening silence for eerie effect throughout several tense sequences.  The structure takes awhile to get going though and it regularly spins in circles enough to loose momentum, but it nails the psychological, guilt-ridden torment angle very well.

CURSE OF THE FLY

(1965)

Dir - Don Sharp

Overall: MEH

 

20th Century Fox squeezed just enough juice out of their Fly franchise with the final Curse of the Fly, the only entry to be a British production.  Virtually a stand-alone sequel, it features entirely new characters, no bug monster, and only a couple of throw away lines of dialog that reference the previous two films.  This is actually a refreshing deviation as the aforementioned The Fly and Return of the Fly were similar premise wise and a third such closely related attempt would have been redundant.  Director Don Sharp and producers Robert L. Lippert and Jack Parsons reunite from the previous year's Witchcraft and the script by Harry Spalding features an escape from a mental institution, a Chinese servant couple, (where only one of them is played by a Caucasian actor for a change), mutated victims of scientific experiments, and the "curse" of the title rendering a descendant of the Delambre family prone to rapid aging unless he gets his shots regularly.  A mess on paper, there are still some effectively startling scenes, yet the story is a bit too leisurely to remain interesting until the end.  Once we have seen the entire, uncut process of people turning on the transporting machine about half a dozen times while scream queen Carole Gray spends most of the movie in bed, viewers will probably be tuned out.

 

THE COLLECTOR

(1965)

Dir - William Wyler

Overall: GOOD

A rare horror-adjacent work from renowned director William Wyler, The Collector patiently explores Stockholm syndrome and societal detachment in its two leads played splendidly by Samantha Eggar and Terence Stamp.  Wyler chose to adapt John Fowles' book of the same name as his follow-up to the similarly acclaimed The Children's Hour, setting the film in London with his two English leads, (even though everything but exteriors where shot in LA), and ultimately cutting over an hour of footage to bring it within commercial length.  Wyler's somewhat tyrannical style was particularly troublesome on Eggars who was fired, then rehired with an acting coach, and then lost fourteen pounds over the course of the shoot.  Her performance shines through the on-set torment that she suffered though.  As a victim of kidnapping whose acts of desperation are persistently misconstrued as manipulative by Stamp's hopelessly disconnected abductor, our sympathy lies wholly with her.  Stamp's role is comparatively more complex as he is clearly a victim of mental illness, yet his demented justifications ride a very thin line between being deplorable and pathetic.  As almost the entire movie is spent with just the two of them, the material has plenty of time to treat their complex dynamic respectfully.

60's British Horror Part Fifteen

THE BRAIN

(1962)

Dir - Freddie Francis

Overall: MEH

 

Freddie Francis' first in a career's worth of directorial efforts in the horror genre, The Brain, (Ein Toter sucht seinen Mörder), is a British/West German co-production that is the third and final cinematic adaptation in almost twenty years of Curt Siodmak's novel Donovan's Brain.  It also suffers the same problems as the previous versions, problems which are inherent in the source material's convoluted story line involving a shady gentleman's brain being kept alive through pseudo-science nonsense and then going on to possess the doctor who saved it.  Blackmail, criminal dealings, murder, money, pharmaceutical drugs, and some other stuff that is presented in a thoroughly uninteresting and complicated manner is not helped by a dated, plodding presentation that meanders around without any compelling stakes.  Francis still being a top-notch cinematographer at the time, he does manage to get a few fetching shots in here or there, but some shadow-heavy lighting and clever camera angles are nowhere near sufficient enough to make up for a lousy, exclusively talky plot.

SÉANCE ON A WET AFTERNOON

(1964)

Dir - Bryan Forbes

Overall: GOOD

The subtly unnerving Séance on a Wet Afternoon is writer/director Bryan Forbes's top-notch adaptation of Mark McShane's 1961 novel of the same name.  Lead by stellar performances from Kim Stanley and Richard Attenborough as a dysfunctional couple whose only son suffered a stillbirth, the deeply troubled narrative is handled in a calm yet gripping fashion by Forbes.  Both Stanley and Attenborough's characters have processed their grief in polar opposite ways; the former as a professional psychic medium who is delusionally convinced that her child's spirit speaks through her, while the latter is a beaten-down, unemployed asthmatic whose humoring of his wife has taken a profoundly melancholic toll on him.  Though their kidnapping deeds are certainly on the mortally dubious side, at no point do their diluted intentions evoke anything besides sympathy from the audience.  Forbes patiently builds a sense of tension throughout the entire film, all with minimal use of incidental music and mostly restrained performances, turning the whole thing into an eerie yet touching essay on grief stricken mental illness and desperation.  Though it was singular enough to not be a remake, Kiyoshi Kurosawa likewise adapted McShane's book nearly four decades later as Séance; an even more excellent interpretation that featured significant supernatural components wholly lacking here.

 

THE VULTURE

(1967)

Dir - Lawrence Huntington

Overall: WOOF

Pure nonsense in the most talky, repetitive, staggeringly boring manner, The Vulture is the final film from writer/producer/director Lawrence Huntington.  A D-rent British production with a handful of B-movie Americans in the leads due to co-funding from Paramount oddly enough, the film opens with an effectively grabbing scene where a woman arrives in a cemetery for some reason during a particularly stormy night, only to see a screeching creature emerge from a grave; a creature which remains unseen, (save for its talons), from the audience throughout the entire movie.  From then on though, things settle into the age old, "We don't have a lot of money to make this movie so here is just a bunch of people talking in rooms for over an hour" trope.  The dialog is hilarious monotonous, with more than one character saying "Big black bird...like a vulture...with a human face!" verbatim several times early on, just to make sure that the audience really gets that there is indeed a big black bird like a vulture with a human face hanging around.  There are also perpetual warnings to keep the windows closed which of course are ignored, followed by people talking about how important it really was to keep those windows closed.  That is about as exciting as it gets folks.

60's British Horror Part Fourteen

HOUSE OF MYSTERY

(1961)

Dir - Vernon Sewell

Overall: MEH

 

British writer/director Venon Sewell filmed Pierre Mills and Celia de Vilyars' French play L'Angoisse four times throughout his career, House of Mystery, (Das Landhaus des Dr. Lemmin), being the final such adaptation and one that was later presented on the American anthology series Kraft Mystery Theater.  Told as a flashback within a flashback that bounces between three different timelines, the structure is clunky, though there are some interesting ideas at play.  A combination of murder mystery, infidelity drama, and ghost story with some scientific experiments thrown in as well, the under an hour running time does not lend itself to expanding on anything going on.  While this gives it a rushed feel coupled with the shifting chronology, it is also incredibly talky and difficult to pay attention to due to a severe lack of action.  That said, the finale almost makes up for the lumbering bulk of the movie as it introduces a clever comeuppance scheme and an effective, spooky twist to go out on.  Said twist might be predictable and the sly, pseudoscience maneuver at the end by Peter Dyneley may seem silly, but they still provide refreshing components to an otherwise stock production. 

 

THE SKULL

(1965)

Dir - Freddie Francis

Overall: GOOD

 

Amicus Productions' second horror film and also the second to be directed by Freddie Francis, The Skull also serves as the company's first collaboration with screenwriter Robert Bloch.  The Psycho author's short story "The Skull of the Marquis de Sade" was reworked by Amicus co-founder and producer Milton Subotsky as well as Francis himself; such script noodling being a frequent practice at the time.  Low on dialog, (at least during the final act), loud on music, and drenched in creepy atmosphere, the simple narrative is given an effective treatment where several unfortunate blokes including Peter Cushing are all supernaturally terrorized by Marquis de Sade's skull.  Though a highly sensationalized explanation is given as do who de Sade was, wisely the fantastical elements are never fleshed-out which gives way to several bizarre, tense set pieces that have no logical footing.  The best and longest of these is the roughly twenty-five minute finale where Francis and cinematographer John Wilcox really lean into the otherworldly mood, basking in Cushing's futile attempt to out-will the evil forces at play.  Christopher Lee, Patrick Magee, Nigel Green, Patrick Wymark, and Michael Gough round out the familiar British horror players, making this one of the better non-Hammer films with Cushing and Lee sharing a few scenes together.

THE FROZEN DEAD

(1966)

Dir - Herbert J. Leder

Overall: MEH

 

The first of two Hammer-style horror movies from writer/director/producer Herbert J. Leder, The Frozen Dead is notable as one of the early ones to combine Nazis with zombies, be it in an off-hand, sugar-coating manner.  It is viscerally uncomfortable to center the entire story on exiled Nazis in hiding who have spent the last two decades since the war ended clandestinely conducing experiments on frozen soldiers in order to eventually resurrect their political party for world domination.  Sans a few non-specific Holocaust references, all real life Nazi atrocities are noticeably omitted and things instead proceed in a bog-standard, campy, mad scientist route.  A severed, telekinetic-powered head being kept alive with wires, severed arms being kept alive with wires, soldiers that are either virtually mindless or frozen, one woman looking like a normal person when she puts on a mask to cover her scars, and various other silliness give it plenty of a tongue-in-cheek, B-movie charm.  That said, Leder's script is too wordy and padded, so the end result cannot overcome its stagnant pacing issues.  At least Dana Andrews doing a German accent is amusing though.

60's British Horror Part Thirteen

BUNNY LAKE IS MISSING

(1965)

Dir - Otto Preminger

Overall: GOOD

A psychological thriller adaptation of the novel of the same name by Merriam Modell, Bunny Lake is Missing is loaded with details and unveiled with painstaking patience by director Otto Preminger, even if Preminger himself basically dismissed it as insufficient fluff.  In typical murder, (or in this case, kidnapping), mysteries, red herrings are a vital component and each suspect that we meet here is given both credible excuses to be innocent as well as questionable eccentricities or shadiness to be guilty of at least something unwholesome.  Martina Hunt as an isolated old lady listening to tape recordings of children's nightmares, Noël Coward prattling on about his "melodious voice" that women find irresistible as he is aggressively harassing Carol Lynley's understandably troubled mother whose daughter has gone missing, and of course her brother played by Keir Dullea who seems up to no good long before such things are blatantly confirmed.  As the diligent, quick-witted police inspector, Laurence Olivier is in typically fine form as he pursues sly, intimate tactics to cross every T and dot ever I in his investigation.  Preminger utilizes long, elaborate takes to keep the viewer on edge, soaking in disturbing and somber specifics, particularly so during the final act.

 

THE DEADLY BEES

(1966)

Dir - Freddie Francis

Overall: MEH

A dopey nature horror work from Amicus Productions, The Deadly Bees crumbles under its lazy special effects and talky, uninteresting script.  Robert Bloch's initial screenplay had both Christopher Lee and Boris Karloff in mind, the latter reprising his role from a 1955 television episode of The Elgin Hour called "Sting of Death" which was based off of Gerald Heard's same novel A Taste for Honey.  Both Lee and Karloff were unavailable, (i.e. too expensive), so Bloch's treatment was reworked by Anthony Marriott and director Francis and the results have one or two familiar British horror faces, but no scene-stealing star power to carry the drab material through.  As the title would suggest, there are indeed killer bees who spring to violent action due to some asshole putting a certain fragrance on things in order to do away with his enemies, even though several other people also get attacked anyway which was apparently just an egregious oversight on said bad guy's part.  The super-imposed bees look ridiculous on screen and they only show up a small handful of times compared to how much other time is spent watching character's go about their petty, low stakes drama.

DOCTOR FAUSTUS

(1967)

Dir - Richard Burton/Nevill Coghill

Overall: GOOD

The lone directorial effort from Richard Burton and Oxford scholar Nevill Coghill, Doctor Faustus is a wonderfully pretentious cinematic adaptation of Christopher Marlowe's 16th century play The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus.  Itself a reworking of the often interpreted German legend of Faust, this one brings together Burton with the Oxford University Dramatic Society, whom along with Coghill, had done a production of the play the previous year.  An obvious vanity project for Burton, the noted thespian chews through what is essentially a ninety-three minute monologue, with A-list wife Elizabeth Taylor irregularly appearing as a dialog-less/usually painted up Helen of Troy.  Because the story itself is both so familiar and simplistic in its cautionary, tragic agenda of doomed vanity and avarice, the heavy, early modern English vernacular is less intimidating that it would otherwise be, which is further helped by a superb production design all around.  Colorful and elaborate sets, simple special effects, and soft focus lighting create a consistently engaging presentation of baroque macabreness which makes the whole thing excessive in a befitting way to the material; material which is anything but subtle.

60's British Horror Part Twelve

GORGO

(1961)

Dir - Eugène Lourié

Overall: MEH

 

Though it unfortunately hits the inevitable wall that all over-sized, reptilian, "monsters run-amok" properties do, (namely military firepower doing absolutely nothing to slow it down as it destroys endless amounts of real estate), Gorgo is better than many of its kind in a few respects.  An American/British/Irish co-production helmed by Eugène Lourié, (a man whose entire directorial theatrical film career was in giant monster movies), it features exceptional model work and the suitmation is significantly helped by utilizing slow motion to give the title creature more weight in its lumbering movements.  Gorgo's look is clearly stylized after Godzilla, but the addition of dark, glowing red eyes and a bulbous neck makes for an imposing beast all the same.  Story-wise, it has the usual motifs of man being punished for trying to control nature.  In this case, that entails capturing what they initially do not realize is merely a baby Gorgo and then parading it as a circus attraction before the comparatively towering adult version ignores all of the destructive power that human advancement has to throw at it and gets its offspring back to live happily ever after off the coast of Ireland.  There is ultimately not enough present here to elevate it above so many other films of its kind, (particularly from the sub-genre's home-base of Japan), but for those forgiving of more of the same, this Caucasian entry delivers the goods just fine.

 

THE PROJECTED MAN

(1966)

Dir - Ian Curteis/Jon Croydon

Overall: MEH

 

The only theatrical film from director Ian Curteis, (though he was replaced midway through by producer Jon Croydon), The Projected Man has above average production values for a B-movie, but it is still a meandering affair.  The script was initially done by Hollywood writer Frank Quattrocchi, reworked later by Peter Bryan and John C. Cooper with the location switching from American to London.  Heavily padded to the point of persistent boredom, the entire first half is nothing more than a series of lab experiments and genuine banter between scientists, plus some underdeveloped blackmail scheme amongst the bad guys.  Once Bryant Haliday inevitably transforms into the title monster and loses his sanity while gaining a deformed, Harvey Dent-worthy appearance as well as instant, flammable electrocution powers towards whatever he touches, the plot still regularly detours into more characters standing around and talking about what is happening.  Though it is hardly exciting enough to work, the makeup effects are gnarly and Stanley Pavey's cinematography is professional as well as periodically atmospheric.

 

THE TERRORNAUTS

(1967)

Dir - Montgomery Tully

Overall: MEH

 

Amicus Productions continued their brief foray into science fiction after two big screen Doctor Who adaptations with the laughably cornball The Terrornauts.  Based on Murray Leinster's 1960 novel The Wailing Asteroid, it consistently looks as if it was made on a budget consisting of loose change, becoming more hilariously embarrassing as it goes on.  The first half is unfortunately monotonous and drags along with scientists in wood-paneled rooms and in front of rickety equipment at a radio telescope site who mostly just argue with their crotchety boss.  When the setting switches gears to outer space and everybody puts on rubber bath caps with wires sticking out of them so that they can telepathically communicate with alien technology in order to blow up other aliens in green makeup, the barrage of cheap looking scenery and anti-special effects become a hoot to behold.  The miniature space ships, rear projection, set design, and costumes are all fully lit as to negate any unearthly atmosphere, plus the script by John Brunner makes sure that everything stays on the light and easy side with regular, cutesy comic relief, mostly provided by a tea trolley lady and an accountant.  Thankfully though, the film also has plenty of unintentional humor to go around.

60's British Horror Part Eleven

THE HOUSE IN MARSH ROAD

(1960)

Dir - Montgomery Tully

Overall: MEH

 

An adaptation of Laurence Meynell's novel of the same name, The House in Marsh Road, (Invisible Creature), is less a ghost story than an infidelity drama, though it has a couple of gripping moments and a grim ending to boot.  There are several problems in the presentation though, namely Montgomery Tully's stock direction, a lack of spooky atmosphere, and a completely ruining soundtrack that blares through almost every scene and in doing so, eliminates any and all would-be, nail-biting tension.  The performances are decent with Anita Sharp-Bolster as the no-nonsense, Irish housekeeper, Tony Wright as an unrepentant, dead-beat husband, and Sandra Dorne as his enchanting mistress standing out the best.  Curiously, the story itself utilizes its supernatural components so conservatively that large portions of the plotting play out without any need for or emphasis on ghostly activity.  The movie is notable as one of the first to actually use the word "poltergeist" as well as differentiate it from that of a conventional, wronged spirit simply lurking around with unfinished business.  Still, one is likely to forget that there is an otherworldly presence in the first place whether malicious or benevolent and in effect, the whole thing fails to utilize all of its ingredients sufficiently.

 

THEY CAME FROM BEYOND SPACE

(1967)

Dir - Freddie Francis

Overall: MEH

 

Released on a double bill with The Terrornauts, They Came from Beyond Space is a comparatively less laughably entry than its companion film, yet still wearing its piss-pour budget on its sleeve.  Even with director Freddie Francis on board who collects a paycheck here in between several other mostly better Hammer and fellow Amicus productions, most of the financing was apparently squandered on The Terrornauts, itself a pathetically cheap looking bit of science fiction stupidity.  Apparently there was not even enough money left over for an atmospheric, futuristic score as the jumpy jazz music we are given sounds more well equipped for a spy film or an episode of Batman.  While Francis still has a decent eye here or there and does not allow for the entire movie to be filmed with all of the lights on at least, it still looks low-rent with a minimal amount of special effects and goofy costumes/head gear.  All could be forgiven and would make a mediocre Doctor Who serial maybe if not for Amicus co-founder and producer Milton Subotsky's lame, simple-minded script which is an imitation of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, except with all of the menace replaced by a repetitive structure, hokey schmaltz, lazy plot holes, and a detrimental lack of action.

 

CORRUPTION

(1968)

Dir - Robert Hartford-Davis
Overall: MEH

Several variations of Eyes Without a Face have come and gone in its wake and Corruption is a rather sleazy one from exploitation director Robert Hartford-Davis.  The film miraculously scored Peter Cushing in the lead who portrays an obsessive yet emotionally-torn surgeon to the best of his abilities, but the trash-heavy presentation is far goofier than the cherish actor deserves.  Set in swinging London, there are moments that intentionally play off of Cushing's classier demeanor and reputation in more Gothic styled horror vehicles that clash with the vain, hedonistic behavior of some of the other characters, particularly his model girlfriend Sue Lloyd who is half his age.  Hokey violence, utterly awful use of a largely inappropriate musical score, and a comically silly ending make it a messy affair though.  The fact that the premise is already familiar and everyone watching knows perfectly well that it will all end unfortunately for everyone on screen, (no matter how much they try and convince themselves otherwise), leaves no room for any tension or shocks.  Instead it is mostly just a bunch of blaring jazz music, girls in skirts, and Cushing making ridiculous faces.

60's British Horror Part Ten

THE HAND

(1960)

Dir - Henry Cass

Overall: MEH

Mislabeled as a horror film as it is instead merely a police procedural drama with a lone macabre element, The Hand was one of the last projects produced by Walton Studios and it is one that slowly runs out of steam to the point where most audience members will probably check out before the measly sixty-four minute running time has run its course.  The opening segment sets things up with an, (incorrectly dated), flashback to World War II in the Burma campaign where a small handful of POV's are roughed-up appropriately, but once things switch back to Merry Ole England, the entire rest of the movie plays out with detectives following leads until things come full circle in a rushed, anticlimactic manner.  Henry Cass' direction is as flat as can be, though to be fair, he seems to be working with a budget of almost nothing and sans any atmospheric cinematography or gripping set pieces in Ray Cooney and Tony Hilton's script, the only move to be made is loading the film up with stock jazz music to try and create some sort of upbeat pace.

 

THE PSYCHOPATH

(1966)

Dir - Freddie Francis

Overall: MEH

 

Amicus steps into the psychological thriller vein with The Psychopath, the second film for the production company to be written by Robert Bloch.  Director Freddie Francis had several horror movies under his belt at this time already and he does good work here staging some eerily quiet, suspenseful moments.  Though clearly capitalizing on the "psycho" word in the title, Bloch's script is a far cry from his source material to Alfred Hitchcock's masterpiece even as it borrows some minor narrative details that are easy to spot.  Speaking of easy to spot, the mystery reveal is anything but surprising and is actually downright lackluster in the final moments, though we still get some odd/silly images to leave off on.  The movie is mostly a slapdash combination of weird dolls, detective work, a crazy old woman, and her slightly eccentric son, again ala Psycho.  Margaret Johnston is a delight though as said wacka-doo lady, chewing the scenery in heaping mouthfuls as one would expect or even demand.  There is not enough else here to heighten the proceedings, but it is an adequate production that was just made by many who have done much better.

IT!

(1967)

Dir - Herbet J. Leder

Overall: MEH

 

Deliberately tailored after Hammer Studio's unique brand of horror film by writer/director/producer Herbert J. Leder, It!, (Anger of the Golem, Curse of the Golem), has some intriguing elements despite a half-baked script.  Scoring Roddy McDowall in the lead is of great advantage to the production as he effortlessly portrays a young, eccentric would-be museum curator who finds himself in control of an ancient golem that has just been obtained.  There are bizarre elements to the story that are directly ripped off from Psycho that serve no other purpose than to further enhance the neurotic nature of McDowall's character who is plenty socially aloof enough without keeping his mother's corpse in his home while pretending that she is still alive.  Aside from that pointless ingredient, the story eases into its fantastical elements well enough, even if Leder scripts himself into a wall for the finale which ends on a whimper instead of a bang, (even though there is a literal "bang" present).  None of the other performances are anything of much note, leaving McDowall to carry the proceedings along with the indestructible stone monster of Jewish folklore, both of which thankfully get to some decent, macabre business along the way.