(1961)
Overall: MEH
A West German crime film set in England and dubbed in English by people mostly with American accents, The Dead Eyes of London, (Die toten Augen von London, Dark Eyes of London), was an adaptation of the Edgar Wallace novel of the same name, the Bela Lugosi-stared British version proceeding it by twenty-two years. Director Alfred Vohrer helmed a handful of other films based off of Wallace's works, this being the first of them. Focusing more on the police investigation aspects of the story than any horror ones present in the 1939 version, it stylistically dips its toes into more macabre visuals with low angle framing, a heavy use of shadowy lighting, and creepy shots of hairy hands reaching out for doomed victims. A few other odd embellishments such as a POV shot from the inside of someones mouth while spraying their teeth and a skeleton cigarette dispenser keep it at least visually quirky. There is also a young Klaus Kinski playing a, (of course), scuzzy low life which is always a plus. Still, for a German film made only a few short years before they would begin their own cinematic New Wave, the plot is confounding and it all inevitably comes off as dated in both presentation and subject matter.
(1962)
Overall: GOOD
Previous done as a British production by director Norman Lee in 1940, The Door with Seven Locks, (Die Tür mit den sieben Schlössern, Chamber of Horrors) is an adaptation of Edgar Wallace's 1926 novel of the same name. Klaus Kinski has a brief part early on, playing against type as a paranoid weasel before the story starts to weave its intricate plot of family members being picked off systematically from within due to an vast inheritance that is up for grabs. We also get some stuff about a mad scientist and a fair amount of Gothic window dressing to push the film closer into the horror realm. There are MacGuffins, (including the well-locked door of the title), a hulking and dim-witted brute, a gorilla in a cage, snakes, a comic relief police inspector named Holms, a guy with a gun for a hand, and Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D minor" pops up on the soundtrack. Some of the plot points are hilariously convenient and the scheme of Pinkas Braun's character proves to be too ridiculous to buy into, but this is not an issue since director Alfred Vohrer takes a breezy and humorous approach to the typically over-stuffed material.
(1963)
Dir - Alfred Vohrer
Overall: MEH
Director Alfred Vohrer continues his series of Edgar Wallace krimis with The Squeaker, (Der Zinker), based on Wallace's 1927 novel of the same name. This was producer Horst Wendlandt's twelfth such movie and the fourth version of the Wallace book, as well as the only one not made in the 1930s. Concerning a killer who is dubbed "The Squealer" for ratting on his victims to the police before doing away with them by way of Black Mamba venom, it has Klaus Kinski in his usual role as the unwholesome culprit, (Or is he?), who barely utters any dialog. There are still some zany closeups courtesy of cinematographer Karl Löb, (a frequent Vohrer collaborator), as well as a flash of animated blood in the opening title sequence to spice things up. As far as the plot goes, it follows the usual beats and is overstuffed with characters, red herrings, and the usual bouts of comic relief surrounding an ambitious journalist, which is a trope that goes back several decades at least. It is overly-talky and difficult to stay invested in, but Vohrer and Löb keep the camera moving and there are some macabre set pieces sprinkled in that tip-toe this enough into horror terrain to appease genre fans.
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