(1940)
Dir - George King
Overall: MEH
Director George King and thespian Tod Slaughter's final and most agreeable collaboration together was the adaption of Wilkie Collins' 1860 novel The Woman in White, here re-titled Crimes at the Dark House. Chewing the scenery as if he has no qualms whatsoever by being typecast as a giggling scumbag who is allergic to morals, Slaughter plays what is practically a caricature of his on screen persona here. In the opening scene, he murders a man in the wild and assumes his identity, which is convenient for him since his victim is a man that has not been back home since he was a small boy and also that home and its finances are now presumably bequeathed to him. Things go as you would suspect with Slaughter's vile conman quickly making enemies with everyone, even the people who he conspires with in order to get his hands on the money, women, and lifestyle that he fraudulently desires. The Collins story is an ideal one for the actor in this respect and Slaughter leans into the role like a man who legitimately enjoys double-crossing and strangling women with his bare hands.
(1946)
Dir - Victor M. Gover
Overall: MEH
The first of Tod Slaughter's pairings with director Victor M. Gover, The Curse of the Wraydons, (Strangler's Morgue, Horror Maniacs), combines Napoleonic spies, an escaped lunatic uncle back for revenge, and the urban legend of Spring-Heeled Jack. Based on both the 1849 and 1928 stage plays Spring-Heeled Jack by W.G. Willis and Maurice Sandoz respectfully, it sadly misuses the horrific elements of the ole penny dreadful monster/vigilante, showing none of his documented exploits and instead only mentioning him in passing and focusing much more on Bruce Seton's wrongfully-accused soldier who quits the spy business due to a love interest and his own moral consciousness. There are a barrage of characters in similar wigs to keep track of and this becomes troublesome as it clutters up a back-and-forth plot to the point of disengagement. Still, there are some gruesome moments where Slaughter gets to loom straight towards the camera which is a POV shot of a woman that he is about to strangle, of course grinning like the batshit loon that he is portraying. He also has one of those compactor pits where the walls slowly inch towards each other and he cannot hide his giddiness over the fact that he gets to use it on his enemies.
(1948)
Dir - Oswald Mitchell
Overall: MEH
One of the earliest screenwriting credits for future Hammer filmmaker John Gilling, The Greed of William Hart is an unofficial retelling of the infamous Burk and Hare killings, with various details omitted and the names changed on account of British censors. Character actor Tod Slaughter was born to play the more aggressive mastermind out of the two murdering/body-selling scoundrels, recklessly strangling people, setting his sights on more high profile victims, and manically smiling at those who rightfully suspect him. Calling this the most loathsome of the many such characters that he portrayed is probably accurate, but Slaughter had long been typecast in such roles, at least on the screen by this point so really any of his odious roles could qualify as being lacking of any and all morals. Unfortunately, Gilling's neutered script shies away from all of the nasty stuff and spins its wheels until its inevitable conclusion where Slaughter and his wimpish cohort Henry Oscar are apprehended and fed to an angry mob. The first act in particularly is dreadfully stagnant, taking forever to set the diabolical plot in proper motion and made more annoying by the fact that everyone's ridiculous Irish and Scottish dialects and slang are near impossible to make out.
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